DOMestic Bdsm and Female Domination

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19 - part one

This story is dedicated to the real Victoria who proved a
formidable and eye-opening Mistress. Wherever You are now
Mistress, I hope You're reading this now, that it amuses You and
that one day soon our paths might cross again.

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Simon walked into the New York branch of international upmarket
department store House of Victoria. His was flying back to the
UK that evening and wanted to pay his usual visit and maybe
disguise its true purpose by picking up the nice jacket he had
spotted in the window earlier that day.

He scanned the cavernous lobby of the building and set off
slowly for the escalators to the menswear department. The
store's CCTV swivelled after him. As he picked his way casually
through the familiar rows of cosmetic counters. He couldn't help
noticing the heady mix of perfumes competing for the attention
of his nose. The delicate scents played across his sense of
smell like a symphony. A high note quickly replaced by a musky
low immediately followed by a strong mid-tone.

Simon slowed down to breathe in the intoxicating aroma, and even
more importantly, to feast his eyes on the incredibly attractive
salesgirls all around him. Each was carefully made-up to
perfection. He discreetly eyed up the women standing all around
him in their form hugging blouses and tight skirts. He could
feel his face flush and his pulse creep quickly up.

The sounds of the busy store faded away. All Simon heard were
the sounds of these gorgeous women's heels moving backwards and
forwards across the marbled flooring. He felt positively giddy.
Maybe a little uncomfortably so. He could feel light beads of
sweat forming on his forehead. The perfumes closed in on him.

Abruptly Simon found his path blocked by a tall imposing woman
with piercing eyes and a transfixing smile. She asked if he was
looking for something special. She wore an immaculately tailored
pin-stripe skirt suit which at once was business like and very
very sexy.

Simon mumbled something about "the escalator" as she took him
gently yet firmly by the elbow.

"You look a little flushed. Are you alright?" she said, guiding
him to a soft leather chair by the Aveda counter. "You'd better
sit down."

"What's wrong with him?" a salesgirl asked, concerned.

"He'll be alright. Victoria asked me to intercept him." She
replied.

"Oh. He's one of those?"

Simon was feeling a little queer. He realized he had been
inadvertently staring at the woman's chest as she stood over
him. Strangely, she seemed to have a glimmer of amusement in her
eyes. He immediately lifted his gaze to hers. She said nothing
merely looking down on him. For some reason she intimidated him.
He couldn't say why. He couldn't hold her stare and looked down
at her feet. She was wearing shining black patent heels. Jimmy
Choos if he wasn't mistaken. He was something of an expert on
women's shoes although he would never admit it.

"My name is Miss Logan and I've seen you here before, haven't
I?" she said.

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Simon loosened his tie
and nodded.

"May I have a drink of water?" he asked.

"Certainly" Miss Logan replied. "Follow me. There's someone who
wants to meet you." She took Simon's arm and helped him to his
feet. He leant on her to steady himself. He could feel her
strength. She must work out he thought as he let her lead him to
the lifts at the rear of the store.

Simon was blinking hard, trying to focus, but the perfume seemed
to be making it hard for him to breathe. He wondered if he had
some sort of allergy. But that didn't make sense. Didn't they
test for this sort of thing? He felt positively light headed. He
heard the ping of the lift arriving.

Miss Logan took out a key and inserted it into the lift's
control panel. She selected the nineteenth floor, accessible
only to senior staff and rumoured to be replicated in every one
of the forty plus stores world-wide. This was the floor Victoria
Markham occupied when visiting. No-one was taken to the
nineteenth floor without a very very good reason.

The doors clicked shut and Simon felt them begin to smoothly
rise. There was no music in this lift.

The heavy scent in the confined space of the lift was almost
overpowering. Simon was aware of Miss Logan standing very close
to him. He stared at the back of her head, inches away from her,
and slowly, behind her back, traced her figure from head to toe
as the lift rose up through the building.

"I don't appreciate being looked at like a piece of meat. If you
can't behave in a civilized fashion, keep your eyes to the
floor."

Simon gaped in surprise, and then noticed that she was watching
his reflection in the control panel. He flushed red with
embarrassment, his head pounding from the perfume, and
immediately lowered his gaze.

"Sorry" he mumbled.

"You will be" she retorted loudly and clearly. There was a
confidence in her voice that alarmed Simon. All he wanted was a
drink of water and to get out of this place. He clutched the
hand rail as the lift gently came to a halt. And to top it all
he could feel himself stiffening in his trousers. He hoped it
wouldn't show. It normally didn't.

The doors slid quietly open and Miss Logan stepped out and
walked briskly down a long polished corridor. Antiques, wall-
hangings, gilt-framed portraits of austere women and mirrors
lined the walls. Several polished mahogany doors led off to
other rooms. There were no name plates or numbers to identify
what lay behind any of the doors. A small man dressed in a tight
fitting black uniform complete with brass buttons, numbered
epaulettes and peaked cap was watering a large plant. He stood
sharply to one side and lowered his gaze as Miss Logan marched
past him. He stole a questioning glance at Simon before
returning to his chores.

"Come along. Don't dawdle." Miss Logan called over her shoulder
as she strode down the long corridor.

Simon hurried after her.

He was so intent at not staring at Miss Logan's bottom swaying
teasingly from side to side in front of him, that he almost
collided with her when she came to an abrupt halt at the end of
the corridor.

She pressed a buzzer and waited. She smiled up at what must have
been a camera above the heavy double-door in front of them. The
door had no apparent handles. A moment later it swung open. Miss
Logan marched in and Simon followed with a growing sense of
anxiety. This seemed like an awful lot of trouble for a glass of
water. Perhaps they had some sort of sick bay here.

A huge office opened up before them. Glass walls on three sides
of the room gave a breathtaking view across the city. A bank of
computer screens hummed away on one side of the office
displaying stock market information as well as CCTV footage from
the store.

Simon gaped at the huge water tank under the floor, as a shoal
of colourful fish swam lazily by under his feet. If Miss Logan
wished to put him at his ease she was doing a pretty poor job.
Simon suspected this was the last thing anyone here wanted to do
for him.

Miss Logan moved across the floor to a vast ebony lacquered desk
at the far side of the room. Sitting at it was one of the most
striking women Simon had ever seen. Her long hair was scraped
back behind her head in a high tight bun. She wore a slim
fitting suit of some light flowing material - a dark jacket
fastened with a single silver clasp. Next to her, on the desk,
lay a pair of long black leather opera gloves. She got up and
walked around to shake Miss Logan's hand.

Simon's mouth fell open. The mystery woman exuded power and
confidence. Simon couldn't take his eyes off her. He took in her
firm breasts straining against the black silk top she was
wearing under her jacket. It accentuated her waspish waist and
drew Simon's eyes straight down her tight red pencil skirt.
Perfect calves seemed to flow into a pair of 5" Louboutin heels.

"Sandra, Lovely to see you again," she said.

"Thank you Victoria. And you," replied Miss Logan.

"And what have you brought me?"

"This is the boy we discussed."

Simon was a little confused. Did they just refer to a previous
discussion they'd had about him? And call him a boy? This day
was growing stranger by the moment.

"Could I have a glass of water please?" he croaked. His eyes
were locked onto Victoria's Louboutin's.

Victoria's eyes narrowed.

"Silence boy. And you should say May I. And no you may not."

She gestured to Miss Logan to sit on a sofa and returned to her
leather chair behind the imposing desk. Simon was left standing
awkwardly in front of the two women who both seemed to be
enjoying his evident discomfort.

"The new scent seems to be working, or at least, partially."

"Yes it does. Although he seems a little groggier than we would
like," said Miss Logan.

Victoria beckoned Simon to step closer to her desk. He shuffled
forward.

Simon began to mumble "I'm Simon. I-"

"I don't care who you say you are. You're a little pervert. And
to make amends, you're going to come and work hard for me. For
nothing," Victoria replied with a half-amused smile.

Simon couldn't believe what he'd just heard! But he was
incredibly aroused. He could feel himself rock hard against the
soft wool of his trousers. He didn't want to be hard. Under the
circumstances it made him feel vulnerable.

"Who the hell are you? How dare-"

Victoria raised her manicured hand. Her perfect red finger-nails
glistened in the morning light.

"Silence boy. Miss Logan, please show the poor thing what you
have."

Miss Logan produced a remote control. She pointed it at the bank
of screens. At once the stock stat disappeared and the separate
screens filled with different images of Simon. He inhaled
sharply.

It was CCTV footage from a number of House of Victoria stores
around the world, New York, Cairo, Toronto, Tokyo, Paris and
London. And they all showed the same thing. Simon wandering
around the cosmetic counters, sneaking glances at the
salesgirls.

Victoria laughed a cold laugh. Miss Logan allowed herself a grim
smile.

"This was shot over the last two years. You come into a House of
Victoria somewhere in the world, cruise around the cosmetics
counters and buy nothing. We have hours of this footage," Miss
Logan intoned.

"This is a gross invasion of privacy" spluttered Simon.

"Yes it is" agreed Victoria. "The privacy of our salesgirls.
Their right not to have a pervert come into our store and ogle
them."

The images played on and on. Simon eventually couldn't watch
himself anymore and stared down at his feet, ashamed. Victoria
nodded and Miss Logan turned off the monitors.

"What do you want?" he asked in a low nervous voice.

"I want you to continue just as you are," Victoria replied.

Simon looked up at her puzzled. "What do you mean? You want me
to... cruise... the make-up girls?"

Victoria frowned. "Not exactly. Your cock is hard."

Simon instinctively covered his crotch with his hands. Victoria
got up and strode quickly over to him. She slapped his face.

Simon was astonished. His hands shot up to his stinging cheek.

"Never cover your genitals in front of any woman in this store.
Ever. Drop your hands to your waist."

Shocked, Simon did as he was told.

"Responsive. He can obey," Miss Logan noted with a satisfied
tone.

"You must address all women as Miss followed by their surname.
Your one single exception is me, who you will address as
Mistress Victoria."

"Please, I don't understand" he stammered.

Victoria slapped him hard across the face from the left and then
even harder from the right.

"You will speak when spoken to and at no other time. I am not
interested in your opinions. You will ask permission of any
woman if you wish to speak. If she refuses it you must remain
silent. If you fail to obey we will have absolutely no
hesitation in posting these images up on the internet."

"But what do you-"

CRACK

Simon crumples to the floor in writhing agony. Miss Logan steps
over him. She smiles down having just delivered a perfect hard
kick from behind Simon to his balls.

"You heard Mistress Victoria, Simon, you must ask permission to
speak," Miss Logan smiles sweetly before placing her foot on
Simon's crotch and gently increasing her weight on it.

"Yes, Miss Logan. Sorry Mistress Victoria."

Victoria smiles. "That's better."

"Permission to speak Mistress Victoria."

Victoria nods.

"What do you want me to do here?"

Victoria smiles and a chill passes through Simon. He knows right
then that he won't be boarding that flight back home tonight.
Life has just taken a dark turn. He starts to tremble.

To be continued...