The speed with which the car overtook Saunders astonished him with its
audacity.
It shot past him in a blur of red - too quick for him to get the number.
Officer
Saunders felt his temper rising. Nobody does this on my patch, he thought to
himself, and pressed his foot to the accelerator pedal to give chase. He'd
already pulled over four people this morning and it wasn't even 11 o'clock.
Of
course he hadn't fined them - he'd just bullied them into handing over a
handful
of tenners and from the young lady he'd stopped he'd also got a name, address
and telephone number. More than anything, Saunders liked the power his job
gave
him. He loved extracting the forelock-tugging acquiesence from his
"customers"
as he liked to call them. He loved the reputation he had as a hard man and
was
always gratified at the way the surrounding traffic would slow down to well
below the speed limit when he was around. All the more reason why he was so
angry at the cheek of the driver of that red car. He was gaining on it now
and
was sounding his siren - the car had been clocked at 85. The car didn't look
as
if it was up for a chase and signalled to the left and started to slow down.
Saunders was up close now and signalling similarly. Now he could see the
number
plate clearly. One of those personalised ones, he noticed: DOM N8. Oh so it's
a
"Dominic", is it? he mused, cynically. The car came to a stop in the hard
shoulder and Saunders stopped his patrol car about twenty yards behind, got
out
and started walking towards the car.
The car's windows were of darkened glass so that he couldn't make out the
driver. "Flash git!", he muttered to himself. He was about ten feet away from
the vehicle when the driver's door opened slightly. A woman's leg emerged and
rested on the ground. "Bloody woman driver 'n' all!", thought Saunders,
"Stupid
rich bitch out driving hubby's car, I bet - this'll be fun." All the same,
from
what he could see it was a very nice leg, he thought. The leg was bare and of
an
unblemished milky white smoothness. Saunders could easily make out an
impressively toned calf muscle that tapered perfectly to a pretty ankle
culminating in a shiny red stiletto heel. For some reason Saunders had always
liked the sight of a woman in high-heels. He could never quite work out why
but
it had always "got him going". He remembered those furtive glances he'd taken
down at the station of one of the magazines appropriated by the blue-rinse
Gestapo in the Porn Squad. What was its name again...?
"Ahem...can I help you, Officer?" a cultured voice said. Startled, Saunders
shook himself out of his reverie. She had got out of the car now and was
standing by the open door, one hand on the roof. She was an outstandingly
attractive woman, he had to admit. About 5'6", he guessed, though taller in
those stilettos as the heels must have been at least two inches - more even,
he
thought. She had shoulder length blonde hair and very arresting eyes. Judging
by
the mode of dress she was a businesswoman, he decided. She wore a dark
blouse,
silk perhaps, underneath a very well-cut jacket which set-off the splendid
curves of her figure. The length of her legs was accentuated by the very
short
black skirt which clung almost unreasonably tightly to her muscular but very
feminine thighs."Ummm...Yes, Madam", he began, "I clocked you doing eighty-five miles per
hour
back there".
"Oh really?", the woman replied. "Just that? I thought it was at least
ninety. I
must've lost concentration," she added airily.
Saunders was surprised both by the admission and by the tone that betrayed
not
the slightest hint of embarrassment or apology.
"You...you know that the speed limit is seventy, don't you, Madam?", he tried
again.
"Oh something like that, yes, but I tend to look upon it more as a guideline
than a rule, Officerrr..?", her voice raised in enquiry.
"Saunders, Madam, regional traffic patrol", he obliged.
"Well then, Officer Saunders", she said in a somewhat playful way, he
thought,
"I suppose I'm in big trouble, am I?" - and with that pushed the car door
shut
and started walking towards him slowly. Something about the way she walked
held
Saunders transfixed. The graceful, hypnotic manner in which her hips, clad in
that short black skirt, swung from side-to-side, side-to-side....
"I'm sure we can sort this little business out like rational adults can't we,
Officer?". Again Saunders had to shake his head to come to his senses and
found
his mouth had become very dry. She was right in front of him now and looking
directly into his eyes. The cat-like eyes were of a deep shade of green with
long eyelashes. He could smell her perfume, too - very expensive, he thought
and
suddenly he became aware that he had an erection. "Uhh..I'm sorry, Madam" he
said - almost apologetically, he noticed.
"And I prefer to be addressed as 'Mistress'" she said. Although he towered
over
her physically, Saunders felt a curious rush of unreasoned panic come over
him
and he noticed that he was backing away towards his car. What was it about
her?
She advanced further. "So what do you intend doing then, Officer?" she asked
with a smirk, "Run me down to the station, perhaps?".
"Err...if...if it comes to that, then yes. Yes" he replied. Saunders was more
than a little disconcerted now. This lady was not demonstrating the nervous
deference he usually got from people.
"Well then" she said, looking him directly in the eye, "arrest me. Only don't
bother with the handcuffs, if you please" she paused, placing her hand on her
hip and brushing the material of her jacket aside to reveal a gleam of
silvery
metal beneath, "You see I always carry my own..." There was a gleam in her
eye
now and and a knowing smile on her face. Saunders stood agape. It was
starting
to dawn on him what kind of person he was confronted with. A montage of
recondite fears and fantasies flashed across his mind's eye. Things he'd
never
given voice to but things, nevertheless, of which he'd been (if only
slightly)
aware all the same. His eyes met hers again. "Well, don't keep me waiting.
Slave..."
That word. What was it about the way she said it? The way in which she seemed
to
linger on the 'a'. The way her voice seemed to cascade in its pitch from the
's'
to the 'e'. It seemed to wash over you in a delirious deluge of dominance.
Saunders' ego was dissipating. Up until this moment in life he'd been getting
everything his own way by way of his size and aggressive manner. But
confonted
by this person it was so different. Enraptured by the beauty of this
commanding
young woman; those legs, those penetrating eyes, the dreamy musicality of her
cultured voice and, of course, those impossibly high heels, the policeman was
sinking further and further into a sea of submission. Tears of embarrassment
and
humiliation started to well up in his eyes and his legs started to wobble
awkwardly. "N...n..no..ahhh", his legs buckled and he fell to his knees
before
Mistress Chloe.
She looked down at him, placed her left hand under his chin and raised his
head
so that he could look into her eyes. In his shame he tried to look away but
she
forcefully held his head in place.
"Well, slave", she began, pausing to wipe the large tear that was rolling
down
his cheek, "now that we have established our relative positions we can begin
your lesson. You've shown considerable interest in my shoes and so you're
going
to clean them for me right here in full view of all these people and you're
going to clean them as only a slave can - with your tongue" she teased,
gleefully.
Part of Saunders wanted to resist. He was a police officer - a feared one at
that. Wasn't he supposed to be the one in control here? Yet his authority
seemed
to mean nothing to this godde..this woman. How could he let a woman half his
size do this to him? She'd been taunting him the whole time since he pulled
her
over. She had that mocking grin - as if she could read the thoughts that were
going through his head.
"I haven't got all day, slave - you've delayed me enough already," she said.
A
hint of impatience had crept into Her voice, he noticed. His heart was
thudding.
Curiously, Officer Saunders was coming to the view that there really was
nothing
more he'd rather do than kneel before this perfect woman and worship her
high-heels.
Officer Saunders bent his head towards the ground and extended his tongue.
Starting at the toe of Her right shoe he began to run his tongue over the
shiny
red leather. The taste was strange, undefinable - neither sweet nor sour.
Continuing his path along the instep he could smell the fragrance of the
encased
foot. How he longed to be able to kiss the foot of this Goddess in homage. He
was now lapping at the spiked heel - this was the difficult bit. He had to
move
his head further in so that he was now directly underneath Mistress Chloe. He
stole a glance upwards towards the heaven of Her inner thigh and hoped She
hadn't noticed.
"The sole now - if you please," she said calmly, tilting her right foot back
on
the heel. Surely not the sole too, thought Saunders? Yet he complied with his
Mistress, starting to lovingly rasp his tongue underneath the toe and he felt
his erection growing. Suddenly, Mistress Chloe placed her foot to the ground,
trapping his tongue under Her shoe. Saunders squealed in pain (in as much as
he
could with his tongue stuck underneath Her shoe) and his arms flapped almost
comically against the ground.
"When I want You to look up my skirt, I'll tell you to do so - you impudent
little man!" she said.
"Not content with needlessly delaying my journey, you now have the effrontery
to
look up my skirt when I specifically told you to lick my shoes clean! Beg my
forgiveness now!" she commanded. She released the pressure and Saunders
rolled
over on his side and started moaning with his hands clutching at his mouth.
Struggling to his knees before Mistress Chloe, he clasped his hands together
in
entreaty. "Thorry, Mithreth", attempted Saunders with his aching tongue, and
started sobbing uncontrollably.
"Are you ready to do the left shoe now?" she asked - not that it was really a
question. She was terrifying Saunders now. He cowered from her but couldn't
move
far as his back was pressed against the bumper of his patrol car. "Well?",
she
added. Saunder's nodded his head in submission to Her. He threw himself at
Her
left foot and started frantically licking the shoe. He pressed his mouth hard
to
the leather, gratefully sucking every piece of dust and dirt he could that
was
sullying his beautiful Mistress's stiletto.
"That's better," Mistress Chloe commended her new slave, "are you sure you
haven't done this before?". Saunders looked up with an expression of utter
submission and shook his head. She could tell he was hoping his humiliation
was
over. "I'm not done with you yet, slave", she said. Grasping his tie, she led
him on all fours away from the relative refuge of the front of his car into
the
middle of the space between Her car and his.
"I don't see why the Great British Public should be denied some sport, do
you?"
she said - and with that yanked him round onto his back. Her physical
strength
astonished him and again he started to whimper. He lay there helpless with
Mistress Chloe standing astride of his head with Her hands placed confidently
on
Her hips. She looked magnificent. Traffic on the motorway was starting to
build
up now as passing motorists slowed down to take in the bizarre tableau
clearly
visible in the hard shoulder - a beautiful blonde woman wearing a lethal pair
of
spiked red stilettos standing astride a huge policeman. Mistress Chloe took
Her
time to look at the traffic and exchanged a smile with the passing drivers.
Some
of the cars were even stopping further up.
"See that, Officer Saunders?" she teased. "We've got an audience!".
Saunders looked up at Her beseechingly and shook his head from side to side,
"Please...not this!".
Mistress Chloe placed the spiked heel of Her right shoe on his chest and
applied
the pressure. Even through the thick fabric of his jacket he could feel the
spike digging into his flesh. "Please....", he whimpered, trying
unsuccessfully
to writhe out of the way. Suddenly he remembered the radio at his side and
grabbed it.
"Who are you going to call, slave? The police, perhaps? You think I can't
enslave a few more of you today?", she said mockingly. He realised the
futility
of his situation and started sobbing again. What had She reduced him to? She
released the pressure and again Saunders thought he was being granted favour
-
until She expertly placed the heel into his mouth and started rubbing the toe
against his nose.
"I hope this has taught you a lesson in how to show due respect to your
betters,
Officer Saunders", she said - now that calm voice again and she continued
rubbing his nose and cheek.
"Nnny..aarghhhhh", he groaned.
"I can't make out a word you're saying, slave?", she taunted. Now she raised
her
foot an inch or two balancing balletically on her stiletto-heeled left foot
and
Saunders noticed the impressive flexing of the muscles in the left leg as
they
took up the weight. She had legs to die for.
"Y...yes. Yes, Mistress. I'm so sorry for my impudence. I'm sorry for wasting
your valuable time in pulling you over today. Forgive me, I beg you - please
don't be cruel to me."
"I'm just about through with you now, slave", she said. She wiggled her
raised
foot tantalisingly in front of his mouth and Saunders wanted dearly to kiss
the
toe in gratitude.
"Your penance will be to crawl over to my nice new car and kiss each tyre ten
times. You will then crawl back to me to receive your final lesson. Do you
understand?", she commanded, adding, "Do you think you can count that far?"
With the precision of a dancer, She swivelled on the toe of Her left shoe and
placed both feet to his right - releasing him from the prison of Her legs.
Rolling over to his left, Saunders rose to all fours and crawled over to Her
car. Mistress Chloe surveyed the scene with amusement. She was enjoying this
-
so was the crowd of mainly women that had gathered - but the best was to
come.
He wasn't enjoying this at all. The tearful Saunders, being made to crawl in
front of his very appreciative audience, was completely humiliated yet still
he
wanted to please this mysterious woman in gratitude for Her opening the door
to
that room of his psyche he'd kept locked all these years. He pressed his lips
ten times to all four tyres of Her stylish car and, crawling back to where
She
stood majestically, he pressed his forehead to the ground in obeisance to
Mistress Chloe. Then the panic took hold again - of what final lesson did She
speak?
"On your back again, slave", she said casually. He complied and again she
placed
her feet either side of his head. Her beautiful face gazed down impassively
at
him and again Saunders felt the arousal coming on.
"Now I can't afford you getting into your car and following me as soon as I
leave here, can I?" she said rhetorically. What did she mean, wondered
Saunders?
Then, again with that ballet dancer-like grace, Mistress Chloe raised herself
onto the balls of her feet and swivelled her ankles inwards so that they
pressed
against the sides of Saunders' neck. He immediately felt the constriction
both
of air and blood and, panic-stricken, he tried to wrest himself free. She
smiled
down at him. "You can't get free, slave!!", she mocked - and She was right.
For
all Saunder's physical strength, Her lovely ankles were too much for him and
his
vision was becoming blurred. Her voice suddenly became soft, soporific.
"Sleep,
my slave. Sleep for a thousand years," He tried to fight it. He had to stay
conscious but always that seductive voice ushering him into dreamland,
"Sleep.....".
Mistress Chloe felt Officer Saunder's body become limp, released the pressure
and stepped aside. She surveyed the prone, inert form at Her feet and smiled
to
Herself. There was a damp patch between his splayed legs where he'd wet
himself
in his frantic efforts to get free. Struck by a fancy, She reached Her hand
into
the inside left pocket of Her jacket and took out a stick of lip gloss.
Crouching down beside him, She applied it to the lips of the oblivious
policeman
to the amusement of the onlookers. Rising to Her feet, Mistress Chloe turned
and
walked towards Her car - taking the applause of the incredulous crowd. She
got
in and, after a quick check of her hair in the mirror, started the engine and
pulled away. Her thoughts turned momentarily to the policeman She'd
humiliated
and rendered unconscious with Her ankles. He'd be out for long enough for Her
to
exit the scene. He'd wake up with a sore head, lots of explaining to do to
his
boss and a new personality - one respectful of Womyn.
All in all then, a good day's work.
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