(Tommy ) Manchester Mistress Helena servant
Sunlight shafts through the Victorian sash windows, the smell of strong, fresh coffee fills the air, a grandfather clock ticks reassuring in the background. The only other noise is the russle of a newspaper, a broadsheet of course. This peaceful scene is played out across the land. The timeless traditions of a Sunday morning, in a well heeled household.
The reader of the newspaper in this instance is a Lady. Exquisitely turned out, she is strikingly beautiful and sophisticated. She is sat as a Lady should sit, with a straight back. If one glanced more closely they would note the exquisite cut of her suit, Chanel, bought no doubt in Paris on a recent shopping trip, and a pair of high heels by Christian Louboutin. Such details would only confirm the view that this is a lady of sophistication and of class. A closer glance still would note her immaculate make up, manicured red nails and expensive jewellery. Undoubtedly you would think this is a Lady to be admired. You would not be wrong.
But this is not any glamorous Lady, this is the Manchester Mistress Helena. And knelt at her feet am I, her servant. I am naked and collared. My back is straight, and in my hands I hold a silver tray. On that tray is my Mistress’ coffee. My job, you might think, is easy. To hold a tray. But around my erect cock my divine Mistress, Manchester Mistress Helena, has attached two cock rings which are connected to an estim device rested on the arm of her chair. As she reads her newspaper, between her delicate thumb and forefinger she is twiddling the knob that controls the current. As the pain increases I am desperately trying to stay still. From time to time she looks over her newspaper. I swear I can see a twinkle in her eye, before she returns to reading. If my task is not difficult enough from time to time the toe her high heel, innocently prods my balls.
Still I persevere. I can think of no place that I would rather be that a my divine Manchester Mistress Helena’s feet. I am desperate to please my Manchester Mistress and serve her just as she wishes.
Eventually my beautiful Manchester Mistress Helena tires of her newspaper. Folding it carefully and placing it to one side, she looks at me. She is smiling, giving me hope I have done a good job. She reaches down and removes the cock rings. I feel her long nails stroking my cock, and then her delicate hand cupping by balls. I dare to hope I might be going to permitted to cum. But those hopes are dashed, as I am sent to the kitchen to tidy up. Such is the life of a servant.
Your obedient servant