My session with Manchester Mistress Bryce Jones had been discussed on the phone and by email.  Now it was the day and hour to experience it.

I turned up at the bar at the appointed time.  Having purchased a drink, I looked around to locate Mistress Bryce Jones.  I saw her sitting alone at a table near the exit.  She was elegantly dressed in a close fitting leather jacket, white blouse and black skirt.  The skirt just touched the top of her long, shiny black boots with a 3 inch stiletto heel.  Mistress Bryce Jones sipped at her glass of wine as she read her magazine.  She looked stunning.  Casually watching her, I saw her finish her drink, put down the magazine and begin to pull on her leather gloves.  It looked like she was about to leave, and that was the agreed signal for me to follow her.  I was dressed in the distinctive jacket so she could readily identify me.  As we were getting to the end of October, it was now quite dark at that time of the evening.

Mistress Bryce Jones turned right out of the bar and walked down the road.  She turned into a small alley leading to a car park.  I was keeping about 20 metres behind her, admiring her graceful walk in the high heeled boots.  As I turned into the alley, I could not see her and began to quicken my pace to catch up with her.  I had gone about a dozen steps down the dark alley when a stern and authoritative female voice called out “STOP – do not turn round”.

I froze immediately, keeping my head facing forward.  I could hear the clicking of the high heels as they approached me from behind.  A leather gloved hand firmly gripped the side of my neck while a second gloved hand passed a silk blindfold to me.  “Put this on NOW” the female voice commanded.  I complied at once.  She quickly and thoroughly searched me, removing my phone, wallet and couple of pens from my jacket.  “Just putting these into a screened bag to make sure we don’t have anyone tracking us.  Put your hands behind your back!”.

I felt the cold metal of handcuffs being placed around my wrists, then firmly latching closed.  I felt Mistress Bryce Jones move beside me.  One arm went behind my back and held the handcuffs, the other held my arm so she could guide me.  “Walk forward slowly.  The car is a couple of minutes walk away.”  In the dark, with the limited street lighting, we would probably look like any other couple taking a stroll together.  I felt slightly unsteady walking blindfolded, but Mistress Bryce Jones had a strong grip and guided me forwards.

“Stop” she commanded.  I heard the clunk of a car door unlocking.  She carefully assisted me in to the car.  It was slightly uncomfortable with my hands cuffed behind my back.  I heard the seat belt being pulled out and felt the brush of her leather jacket against my face as she reached across me to latch the belt in place.  The car door closed beside me and I heard her get into the driver’s seat.  A gloved hand went to my throat, thumb down one side of my neck, fingers down the other.  “Don’t struggle and remain silent.  Otherwise I will have to gag you.”

We drove in silence for around 15 minutes.  I knew the area fairly well, but after a few turns and round abouts, I was totally lost.  I felt the car slow and then turn onto a gravel drive.  It stopped, and then Mistress Bryce Jones was at my side of the car, undoing the seat belt and guiding me away from the car.  We climbed three steps, then paused as she unlocked a door.  As we stepped through the doorway, she locked the door behind us.  We walked forwards for maybe 15 metres and it felt as though we had entered a different room.  She released her grip on my arm and I heard a door close behind me and a key turning in what sounded like a large lock.  She led me forward another several steps.  “Stand still” she ordered and I heard her walk away, followed by the rustle of clothing and zips.  She returned and I felt the gloved fingers drag across my chest to my nipple, which she then pinched sharply.  There was a small laugh at my sharp intake of breath.  Moving behind me, she released the handcuffs with the instruction “Do not remove your blindfold.  You don’t know where you are and nobody else knows where you are.  You are totally under my control.  You can scream if you want to (and you may well do later)… but nobody will hear or care.”.

I heard her move away and the creak of furniture as she sat down.  “Undress for me” was the next command.  I quickly removed my clothing, kneeling down to undo my shoe laces.  As my last sock came off, I stood up.  It was only at this point that I considered there may be other people in the room.  I had heard nothing, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.  Mistress Bryce Jones got up and stood in front of me.  A gloved hand grabbed my balls and the pressure slowly increased until I cried out.  She released her grip and I heard the stiletto heels click on the wooden flooring as she walked back to her seat.

“Crawl to me,” Mistress Bryce Jones ordered.  I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled towards the sound of her voice. “Stop” she commanded.  Her voice was only a couple of feet away.  I could now smell the rich scent of her leather boots.  “Show me your gratitude by worshiping my boots” she instructed.  I lowered my head towards where I thought the boot was.  My cheek touched the leather shaft of the boot and I moved downwards, seeking out the pointed toe of the boot so I could begin my task.  I experienced a mix of emotions; fear, not knowing what was going to happen; anticipation, hoping that I would not disappoint this dominant woman; excitement, this was one of my strongest fantasies but was now happening for real.

As I began kissing the toe of the boot, I felt the stiletto heel of the other boot press into the back of my neck.  She swiveled her boot heel into my neck.  “You forgot to thank me for allowing you to do this act” she said.

“Thank you Ma’am” I quickly  said, hoping that the pain would stop.  After a few moments, she lifted her heel away.  “Good!  The quicker you learn your place and what is required of you, the less pain you will have to endure.”  I felt as she slapped a leather riding crop against her boot, close to where my head was.

 

For Manchester Mistress Bryce-Jones

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