Leather Clad Women (Fem-Dom BDSM erotica) (3 page)

"With a man,
you mean?" Pauline asked excitedly.

Sheila chuckled
at her friend's wide-eyed and hopeful look.

"Remember the
farm manager I mentioned to you outside?"

Little excited
gasps escaped the women's lips and they looked eagerly and
expectantly around the barn to try to gain sight of him.

"Where is he
then?" was a disappointed comment.

"Don your suits
first ladies. Whenever the Clan meets it is leather-clad and no
other way."

An electrically
charged atmosphere existed as the women all stood and began to
undress.

"Baby oil,"
Pauline whispered to Marinella, "I'm bloody well using oil this
time!"

The dressing
took not some little time as the naked women helped powder each
other and to get into the tight, figure-hugging suits. When all
were set the women stood close together in the open area of the
barn, black leather-clad goddesses of simmering sexual power.

Sheila handed a
polished black riding crop to each of the women, "Courtesy of our
farm manger and victim for tonight. I have until now girls financed
the suits and the other set-up costs of the Clan. I aim to recoup
that expense from our first few catches."

"Yes, yes,"
Pauline said impatiently, "The first bloody hundred if you like -
let's just get at this first one."

The rousing
cheer from the other girls echoed her impatience and Sheila nodded
her approval. She strode importantly over to the back of the van
and paused with her hand on the door handle, "Ladies of the Clan,
the leather-clad Clan," she announced formally, "I give you - our
first victim."

She pulled the
doors wide open to excited shrieks from the girls.

The man was
totally naked and gagged with a white cloth tied around and over
his mouth. His hands were bound behind his back and he knelt
fearfully in the confines of the van. He cowered back as the women
piled into the van, grabbed him and pulled him unceremoniously out
to kneel on the straw-strewn floor of the barn.

"Ooooh," Anna
giggled. "Just look at that sausage will you, Beats my old man's
any day."

Her remark
brought forth much laughter and shouted comments. All were derisive
and humiliating, adding to the man's shame and embarrassment. He
knelt there, his head hung in shame and face flushed red as the
women mocked him mercilessly.

Sheila stepped
in, her hand raised, to bring the gathering to order, "Now girls,
let's see how the little shit likes the taste of the crop."

In one swift
and graceful move, Sheila raised the crop above her shoulder and
brought it down with a sickeningly hard thwack, directly onto the
man's pale buttocks.

A stunned
silence, a sexually charged and excited silence reigned. The women
watched in disbelief as Sheila laid lash after savage lash on the
murmuring man. They thrilled as his body jerked under the impact of
each savage lash. The way the vivid red marks appeared on his white
skin, but best of all was the wild excitement that Sheila
transmitted as she thrashed him.

She was like a
woman possessed, flailing frantically in her high excitement. Her
eyes blazed and her nostrils flared, her mouth hung open and she
grunted little gasps as she swung into each lash. Her sleek body
moved so sensually, the tight suit pulling into all the right
places with her body movements. Sheila was lost in a heady world of
high sexual excitement; she seemed detached and so aroused that she
had lost sense of how many lashes she had laid on the man.

All of the
women felt it too, that electric pumping thrill and sadistic
pleasure from watching the man suffering at the hands of her their
friend. Their pussies were wet, nipples hard and jutting. Their
clitorises ached their need and all of them felt the communal
sexual charge of the situation. They watched spellbound and
speechless as they viewed the erotic spectacle. To have a
grovelling man at their feet, to be abusing him so, inflicting pain
and under their command, the mix of emotions that they felt
exceeded anything previously known to them. It was a high to end
them all, a pounding, thumping thrill that coursed through their
bodies like tidal waves of sensation.

At last Sheila
halted, she was panting hard, her chest heaving, her face was
flushed bright red. Her eyes sparkled sexual thrill and she simply
glowed with an aura of sheer animal lust.

"Tie him," she
blurted between great gulps of air as she tried to stem her rising
orgasm, "over there, over a bale of straw."

It took several
moments for the women to break the compelling spell and to shake
themselves into action. They complied with Sheila's instruction,
without question or reluctance. The women worked as one to push,
drag and shove the blubbering man over to and to lie across the
bale. The stretched him and roped him, pulling his arms out to the
front, pulling his ankles wide apart and then tying those also.

He looked
slightly ridiculous in that position, bound and helpless. Face
down, his stomach and cock resting on the bale with his great hairy
buttocks presented high and pulled wide. The red crop marks stood
out on his bruised flesh to bear testimony to the severity of the
beating he had received.

"Thrash him,"
Sheila shrieked excitedly, "thrash the worthless shit of a
man."

Anna took the
lead, moving to position herself to the side of him. Hesitantly she
raised the crop and then swung down with a terrible force fuelled
by pumping sexual excitement.

His body bucked
and jerked, he pulled at his bonds and thrashed his head as he
suffered the agony of the cruel lash. Despite his pain the man
came, shuddering with the jerking spasms of orgasm as well as the
lash of the crop.

That sight, and
on her second lash Anna came too, her whole body locked rigid, her
back arched and a gurgle emitted from her open mouth. She shook and
shuddered as the ripping sensations tore at her insides. Anna
screamed a pained wailing of intense pleasure that broke the heavy
silence that existed in the barn. Her body then relaxed and she
slumped panting to her knees to roll over onto her side mewing
softly.

At that moment
they all knew. The erotic sight of Anna in orgasm, the powerful
climax she had received and the way her body reacted to portray the
depth of the sexual satisfaction achieved. There could be no
turning back now. All were totally committed, body and soul, to
serving the Clan.

***

She allowed
him, had given him permission to do so and he did so with a loving
reverence. Marinella was standing in her favourite spot before her
long mirror, watching her reflection and the man's back.

He was naked
and kneeling, his hard cock sticking out from between his thighs in
high excitement. His face looked up lovingly at the standing
Marinella and his hands stroked over the firm leather covering her
slim body. Her thighs, first the outer and then the inner parts of
her legs, his hands slipped around to caressed her taut buttocks
before sliding slowly over her waist and up to the jutting mounds
of her breasts. His trembling hands and fingers kneaded and
caressed her through the thin leather; the man moaned constantly
his need and that pleased the girl much.

This one had
been easy to snare. She didn't need the Clan or Sheila to 'train'
she was experienced enough and this private escapade simply proved
that. She knew him, a neighbour of hers. Middle-aged but not bad
she had always felt. He had leered at her constantly over the last
few years. Always seeming to be busy but ogling furtively. That
leering had continued after her divorce with a renewed interest,
her availability seeming to further his interest. Marinella watched
his hands roaming her body, in reverse, in the reflection of her
mirror. She recalled how his mouth had dropped open when she had
approached him. He had been gardening, mowing the lawn and looking
around him anxiously lest his wife should see him talking to her.
That in itself held a certain thrill, the naughtiness, the
secretive way that he desperately longed for her and yet was so
afraid. Marinella felt certain that the man had almost come in his
pants as she had suggested that he might 'come round to her
place.'

His hands now
slid down over her stomach, pausing hesitantly and then gliding in
circles around her mons before slipping in between her firm thighs
to brush against her leather covered pussy.

Her reaction
was swift and severe; Marinella lashed at his naked shoulders with
the riding crop in a series of wild blows that stung the man most
painfully.

"Not my pussy,"
she rebuked him, "I said not my pussy. Now get behind me and do my
back."

The man wobbled
and shuffled on his knees around behind her, his hands immediately
covering her firm, rounded buttocks to begin an adoring
caressing.

"Please," he
whimpered. "This has gone on long enough, please let me."

Her foot shot
hard backward, the thin heel of her boot digging spitefully into
the front of his thigh to bring a sharp yelp of pain from him.

"I will tell
when it time," she breathed to try to stem her rising excitement
and to make the sensations last. "I that is, I will allow you."

It looked so
wonderful to see herself standing as she was. Her reflection showed
a stunning slim girl dressed in shiny black. Her fair hair was
long, down to her shoulders and her bright red lips stood out in
prominence on her face. The girl looked sinister yet so alluring,
slightly evil yet so attractive. The new masks that Sheila had
issued them with added to that mysterious and devilish look.
Leather also and in matching black, the mask covered the nose and
around the eyes, enough to hide her identity but allowing her full
sight through the eyes holes and leaving her mouth fully usable -
and accessible.

The white of
the man's hands and fingers looked like wriggling little snakes on
the black leather as the stroked and felt over her hips and
thighs.

The pumping
thrill of having him at her command, a pathetic little wimp that
would anything she told him to simply in the hope of getting into
her. That thought pleased her more as she watched herself. Between
her legs her pussy was so wet that she could feel the juices begin
to leak down the inside of the suit. Her nipples were so hard and
throbbing that they ached, the time was getting near and soon, she
would have to break the wonderful spell and bring it to an end.

"Stand and come
around to my front," she ordered and chuckled inwardly as the
excited man almost tripped in his haste to comply. A great surge of
sensation shot through her at his hopeful and pleading
expression.

"Press yourself
against me," she said in a low and sensual tone.

The two naked
bodies met, separated only by the thin leather covering of the
suit. She could feel his hard cock pressing against her lower
belly, as it lay sandwiched between them. His chest pressed against
her firm breasts and his face close to hers, their lips only inches
apart.

"My pussy is
wet," she taunted, "so wet and ready."

He swallowed
hard and tried to speak but his words came out only in as a high
and excited squeak, "Oh please, please," he begged.

Marinella
smiled, her full red lips parting to show her pure white teeth in
stark and teasing contrast.

The man came,
his cock jerking to emit excited little spurts of his sperm. Up
between their bodies the thick globules jetted to soil the front of
Marinella's suit. He grunted and groaned both in pleasure at the
sensations but also in disappointment that he had finished so
prematurely.

Her body
throbbed in delight as he trembled and shook in orgasm. So powerful
was the feel of him against her yet he wasn't actually touching her
skin. It added to the thrill, the heady pumping thrill of being
desired to such a high degree of need.

"Oh dear," she
said evenly, "look what you've done to my suit."

The man backed
away fearfully, cringing and cowering, his arms raised defensively
as she raised the riding crop high.

He yelped and
screamed as the blows rained down on him, sliding down to a crouch
as he backed against the wardrobe. His body jerked under each harsh
lash of the crop and he sobbed under the ferocious onslaught. The
hard shaft of the crop stung cruelly at his shoulders and back, the
skin taking on a dull redness under the brutal assault.

Marinella
paused, towering over him and panting hard. She was coming; her
body was building toward what promised to be the most powerful
orgasm she had ever had. Her legs and thighs stiffened and her
buttocks clenched tightly together. She braced herself and cried
out as the pre-ripples of orgasm came to her in increasing strength
and frequency. She began to convulse, her slim body shaken
violently by the racking tremors. Her pussy felt on fire, a heat
such as she had never known developed between her legs. Her mind
was a blur of whirling confusion and her body then locked rigid.
Marinella screamed as she came, her wailing cry echoing in the room
to portray her deep and satisfying pleasure. She slumped, first to
her knees and then onto all fours. She rested there, her head
hanging down between her arms and sucking in air to regain her
control.

As her head
rose and her eyes open she received another jolt. The man was
staring wide-eyed at her, stunned by the power that she possessed
in orgasm. Fear showed in his eyes at the hungry way she had
devoured the sensations of her orgasm. It was a look of awe, of
deep respect and more than that, one of outright uncertainty of the
girl. That she felt was the final compliment to her position of
command. From this moment on she would rule over men. Never again
would she be guided and led, the thrill of command was simply too
great for it to be otherwise.