“We’re going out today slave.”
It was Sunday morning, digging the house out had gone well. Saturday had been devoted to laying gabian blocks and putting the bridge in place. The bridge was fantastic to Claire, a miniature cantilever structure that seemed to float above the ground and end within a centimetre of the kitchen door threshold. Three steps leading into the carport where at the other end. What was striking was how level and flat the span was. The roof over the walkway thrilled Claire too, no more getting wet from the way in the rain to get from car to home.
The gabians were neat and obviously well laid but still bare concrete with little pockets for flowering plants. She had been delighted at the neatening effect they had and posted pictures on her social media boasting about the home improvements her husband was making. The bridge had got several reaction ranging between envy and admiration from her contacts. Most notable had been Claire’s mother who had commented about sending Mike dig a moat and build a drawbridge in Nelspruit.
“Very well Mistress, what will we be doing?” Mike replied.
“Shopping for clothes for you. Buying seedlings to put into the gabians. Mostly just getting out.”
“If we’re starting a garden we’ll need gardening tools Mistress.”
Claire smiled, that was Mike alright. He had a mania about tools, before she took control of the household finances he had easily spent half his wages on tools and seldom walked past the tool displays in hardware stores without getting stuck.
“Yes we probably will. Does your incredible knowledge base include gardening?”
“Not really Mistress. The green part goes at the top is as much as I know. Gardens always happened to other people.”
Claire found expressions like that said so much about Mike. She smiled as she spoke next.
“We’ll have to figure it out together then. Get my bath ready.”
Mike was smiling as he went to do her bidding.
“I always wondered something, you have no tattoos. You evaded last time I asked.”
Mike was quiet for a bit. Claire understood that he wasn’t unwilling to answer, just gathering complex thoughts to answer an unexpected question. If he was unwilling he would change the subject or get busy with some apparent work. She was in the bath Mike was shaving her legs, and had stopped.
“I could never see the point of getting one. I mean nothing says wannabe tough like a tribal tattoo or some ugly sleave. Few things are as tasteless as a heart with an arrow through it. And there is a language to tattoos too, Never get a butterfly tattoo, it proclaims you to be a whore. I knew from when I was seventeen that I would be owned. I figured that it was unwise to make all sorts of marks an owner might detest. As such I figured that if my owner wanted me to have tattoos it was her privilege to pick which ones and where.”
Claire took that answer in, she was actually flattered. Mike had thought about her tastes long before she even knew he existed. Mike at seventeen made her about five or six years old. Once again a memory surfaced. Claire, six years old and upset with her stepfather for being a prick.
“One day I will own my husband and he will be big and strong! And will beat you silly!” Came into her mind.
She laughed at the memory, she had made a drawing of her husband back then, she had been that upset. She wondered if the picture still existed.
“Keep shaving slave.” She said aloud.
Mike resumed his task. She stood up when Mike was at her thighs and looked down at him as he worked. She felt fantastically happy with him, far from becoming less of a man in her eyes he had become so much more. He was her husband. It was becoming natural for her to refer to him as such to others.
“Do some maintenance on my pubic hair while you’re busy.” She said and rubbed his head.
He needed a haircut. He hated having long hair. Hair dressing appointments were in order today too.
It was in fact a quiet day at the flea market complex they went to first. It was the only nursery Claire knew about nearby, the others were in Nelspruit, too far away. Mike pushed a trolley, predictably getting stuck anywhere near tools. Claire smiled, he was in many ways a typical guy. She just spanked him once, lightly with the palm of her hand to remind him that she was in charge and keep him by her side. They looked at seedling trays that had all sorts of annuals, fertilizers, and irregation systems. Pretty soon an assistant was attending to them.
“Do you deliver?” Claire asked first.
“Yes we could ma’am.” Uncertainty was all over the assistant’s face.
Claire could imagine why. She had seen a large variety of pickup trucks and station wagons in the nursery section’s parking area it seemed that most customers did not need deliveries. She had asked because it was clear that her home was going to need more than her Audi could carry. Mike’s Suzuki was not much better.
“Good.” Claire then asked about seedlings to plant in gabians and showed the assistant the pictures.
What followed was two hours of suggestions, questions, answers, and price lists. Claire watched Mike as the talk went on. He asked technical questions about how much water different plants needed, he look at some perennials obviously with an eye to the larger garden, and asked about irrigation. He never contradicted her, gently rebuked the assistant once for being condescending, and made it quite clear that the only opinion that mattered belonged to her. Claire’s heart sang.
They left the nursery with a good idea of what they would need but few purchases, only small items, and one big. Claire bought a garden trowel set, a rake, garden fork, two trays of seedling, a hose pipe and sprayer, and a good brush cutter for the weeds. They then strolled through the market generally looking around.
“What can you tell me about this market?” Claire asked as they had coffee at a coffee shop.
“That guy there is collecting protection money, that guy is looking to pick pockets. That woman is probably going to scam somebody. The stall operators are unhappy, probably about the protection racket and the way the market is managed. Watch out for the people at the perfume stall, they are probably cloning bank cards.” Mike answered.
“Mom is thinking of buying it.”
“Hmmm. The buildings look maintenance light being space frames, they’re not though and difficult to keep in good condition because of the number of feet moving through all the time. The security sucks,.”
“What makes the buildings difficult to maintain?”
“They have that tall central column, what twenty Meters high? That requires more that just a ladder to give it a lick of paint. You need a cherry picker and the the access routes are too narrow to give it access. The roofing is poly vinyl sheets, in the next three years they will require replacement, do you see the colour change as you go up? The sheets have been burned by the sun and are starting to become brittle. That is going to be a huge job to do while people are moving through here all the time.”
“What about the hairdresser?”
“Gay, prefers to bottom, likes late night parties, armed with a pepper pellet gun under the pay point.”
“I meant you need a hair cut.”
“Yes I do Mistress.” Mike replied in a fairly normal voice.
Claire noticed the slight blush as he said it. That he did say it was not lost on her though. He was reminding himself that the contract applied outside their home too. She leaned forward and beckoned him closer.
“Very good slave.” She whispered and kissed him. “There is no need to shout it out though.”
Mike smiled.
“I said it as I did for a reason Mistress. The man behind you is my ex sergeant, I was telling him something.”
“Call him to join us then.” Claire said leaning back.
When Claire saw the ex sergeant she was surprised. He was actually quite short and stocky, she had expected another rugby forward. He had the same air of not taking crap Mike had. He had greying black hair, deep wrinkles around the eyes, and a half moon missing from the top of his right ear.his eyes sparkled though and he had a charming smile. Mike simply introduced him as Sarge.
“Is boytjie here treating you well Ma’am?” Sarge asked.
It was the first time Claire heard that a capital letter could be pronounced. It was also the first time she heard Mike called a little boy.
“He’s wonderful Sarge.” Claire said.
“You’re Ingrid Aethdottir’s daughter right? I did armed response at her house a few years ago. Fantastic woman, I think her husband is an asshole though.”
Sarge obviously saw no reason to keep his voice down or keep an opinion private.
“Mike tells me you were his ex sergeant.”
“More than that Ma’am. We got our kicks at the same whorehouse. Mistress Angeline Beira we even visited the same girl.”
Claire felt her ears heat up. Sarge also saw no reason to be coy about what he said. Claire was intensely aware that every other patron in the coffee shop had probably heard what Sarge had just said. They were probably listening. Claire decided to go with it, there was no hiding now.
“He’s a one woman man now Sarge.”
“A man has no choice Ma’am, he’s only got one dick. He can only entertain one woman at a time. Better said, and it’s quite clear, that you are a one man mistress.”
“That’s a wife Sarge.”
“Yes Ma’am. He’s fucking lucky to have you.”
“Sarge likes you Mistress.” Mike said in the car as they left the market.
“You think so?”
“Yes, he is only that talkative when he likes somebody. And he likes Ma too. He would not mention her if he didn’t.”
Claire smiled as she drove to a high end shopping mall. Sarge had been loud, direct, and dead honest. He had been charming too, despite having a vocabulary that sergeants have gained a reputation for. She wondered if her mom would like him.
Clothes shopping for Mike turned out to be a little difficult. He picked the cheapest, Claire wanted quality though. Claire’s mom had made her accounts available to Claire for Mike to get a new wardrobe. Her only condition had been that Mike was to dress well. She saw what he picked and then took similar in better labels. It was a message he just did not get, regardless of the clothing store they went to. The only clothing Mike had not burned had been his shoes because they would not. Claire had thrown them out. As such it was a large purchase, she made him try clothes on and show her the fit in each store. The only wardrobe items Mike had no input in were underwear. Claire chose those, more panties, more camisoles, several nighties were an impulse buy.
It took three hours but eventually Claire was satisfied. She sent Mike to put the clothes in the car and meet her at a restaurant for lunch. While Mike was doing that she made a few purchases of her own. She met Mike sitting at a table calmly five minutes after he sat down. The restaurant was the most irritating part of the day as they continually looked to Mike about orders and presented the bill to him. It wasn’t his fault, Claire understood that, it was usually the men who paid at restaurants. She resolved to find a solution though because it was humiliating for Mike to pass the bill across and then watch as Claire paid, getting withering glances from the staff.
Claire’s mood lifted through the afternoon as she and Mike planted the seedlings. It was another of those easy periods of them being together, bantering as slave and Mistress. There was no demand for her to be stern and no need for firm instructions as both muddled though the process of learning to make a garden. At the end of it the clouds had rolled over and rain drops were starting to fall. Without rush, Claire took Mike by the cage and let the rain fall on them as she strolled around the house to the lobby to undress with Mike.
She led him to their bedroom and put her foot on the chair for Mike to undo the ankle chain with the key to his chastity cage. Mike took it off and handed her the key. Claire made him kiss it before unlocking.
“Can you hold your load until I allow it my Slave?” Claire asked quietly.
“Yes Mistress.”
“Prove it.” Claire said turning to the bed.
A long time later orgasms were colliding in Claire’s mind and body as her slave made unending love. Her thighs were burning, her labia were swollen and her stomach muscles were in sweet agony.
“Cum for me slave.” She breathed in Mike’s ear.
Two powerful thrusts later she felt the explosion on her cervix as Mike spent himself. They held each other until their breathing normalised. Mike stroking her hair and kissing softly, she patted him in approval until Mike moved to do something.
“No you don’t.” Claire whispered.
“The bed Is wet Mistress.” He said as he settled down again.
“That’s fine.”
Mike moved again later.
“What now?” Claire asked.
“I’m dozing off Mistress.”
Claire gently slapped Mike’s butt.
“Get the pink nighty I bought today and come back to bed slave. No more yoga mat.”
When Mike presented Claire with the nighty she was already in one. Her look was enough, he pulled it on and slipped back in beside her. Mike had new sensations to cope with as he held Claire again. She was running her fingers over the silk intensifying the sensation on Mike’s skin.
“Do you like that slave?” She asked.
“I love it Mistress.”
“Nighty every night then.”
Claire lay closer to him and closed eyes. In minutes both were asleep.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/103tq8w/the_contract_the_first_outing_femdom_flr