Photos that changed my life

LIFE CHANGING PHOTOS (PART 1)

It started out much the same as any other day.

I work as a personal assistant to the CEO of a major Australian Insurance company. I am 36 years old and have been married for 15 years. No children, as I was always a career type and enjoy life’s pleasures too much. My husband runs his own IT company so we are quite well off and I have to admit until today I had never been happier.

I have a good, if somewhat top heavy figure but I work out like a madwoman to prevent gravity effecting my breasts too much. I love expensive well cut clothing and have my suits tailored to suit my figure so that at first impressions my breasts do not appear as large as they really are. I am 5ft 7 inches tall, athletic legs with a firm bottom and slim waist with slim shoulders although I am a 36D in bra size. I have long light brown hair with blond streaks and am told I could easily pass for 26.

When I arrived at work today I was dressed in black high heels, black business suit (Skirt and Jacket) the skirt tight fitting to just above the knee, and a white high necked shirt. I had matching white French knickers and lace bra under these. My nails were done in a light pink polish that matched my lips and my hair was brushed back on both sides and formed into a French pleat at the rear.

Things were pretty quiet at work until around 10.00 a.m. when I was summoned to the Boardroom where there was a directors meeting taking place. Apparently an important Overseer was coming in from the U.K. Lord something or other and arrangement would have to be made for his anticipated stay of 5 – 7 days whilst he reviewed aspects of the Australian Division. It was emphasised to me that this was a matter of great importance because quite literally many peoples jobs depended on him, including some of those present in the Boardroom. He was supposed to discuss the matter with the Board via a video link from Singapore, before heading back to the U.K. but had decided at the last minute to review it personally and had boarded a flight last night and would be arriving within two hours. In that two hours I had to arrange accommodation (Sheraton) a hire car (BMW 7 series) and secretarial back up (one of the other Directors lost his). Then out to the Airport to meet and greet.

First impressions say a lot and this man oozed power and class. He was about 6ft 4 in, solid built, clean shaven, early 50s,, short dark hair greying at the sides , expensive Saville Row dark grey suit and matching shoes, briefcase and even watch strap. He had those dark piercing eyes that seem to look straight through you and you cannot hold their gaze for any more than a moment.

He introduced himself to my little sign baring his name and we quickly returned to the car. Being the good PA I opened the door and took his briefcase, then walked to the driver’s side and got in. That’s when I became aware for the first time that this day may be something different. As I bent and stretched to get in to the car he ran his eyes all over me. Not a simple appreciative glance but full head to toes stare. An analytical stare as if he was comparing me to a mental image he had. He was not at all embarrassed when I caught him looking, quite the opposite it was I who blushed and looked away.

It’s only a 20 minute trip to the Office and he requested that he be taken there and that I take his bags to the Hotel and have his clothing placed in the wardrobe and drawers. Specifying that his dark suit and Dinner Suit be dry cleaned.

To be honest I was pleased to be on my own for a while as his look when I entered the car had my mind racing. I have always been a highly sexed person and had had the occasional fling during my marriage but nothing too serious, more the one night, never get caught type of thing. But this guy had me going.

At the hotel I was unpacking his cloths and admiring the quality of them. The perfect cut of the suits. The beautiful feel of the material. It’s amazing how some cloths just shout class. I laid out his dinner Suit and dark suit for the dry cleaners and put the rest away. As hotels only have those bags to put laundry in I called and asked ‘Housekeeping’ to pick up the suits straight away. To this day I don’t know what made me do it but I decided to check the pockets before they took them. The inside pocket of the dark jacket contained a plain manila envelope, not sealed, but from the feel of it, containing some cards or photos. I placed it aside as I went through the other pockets and then gave the lot to housekeeping.

Left alone in the room again I stared at the envelope for a long time then almost without thinking I opened the flap and took out four 6″x4″ coloured photos. Those photos changed my life.

The photos were all of the same naked female. I guessed her aged about 27, with a similar figure to myself. In the frontal photo her eyes were half closed as if in a dream/drugged trance. Because the photos were in colour it was easy to see what had taken place. The first photo had her standing, legs spread wide and hands tied to something above her head. Her breasts were covered in deep red welts, about an inch wide. These welts criss-crossed both beasts and wrapped around the sides of her ribs. Her nipples were swollen and purple from what looked like a few well aimed strokes of this strap. The front of her thighs and the whole of her shaven crotch area were similarly covered in welts. The ones on her genitals appeared to have been delivered from behind in an upwards motion as the ends fanned out above her pubic mound. Her lips were wet and swollen with the inner labia spreading the lips wide. Her clitoris was clearly visible. Her cheeks were wet from what I assumed to be tears as her eyes looked puffy. I stared at this photo for a long time. Drinking in the detail. It was as if I couldn’t move, I felt as if I was there with her witnessing it as it happened and I slowly realised that I was very aroused and my knickers were very wet. I put the photos down and stood up to remove my skirt and knickers, to be honest I was more scared of staining my skirt as I was leaking so much. I sat down on one of the chairs in the room, sitting on a towel on the edge of the seat and placed my feet on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide. Then taking up the photos again I began to caress my, by now swollen and very wet clitoris. I wanted to make this last so I purposely took my time. The second photo was of her from the rear, bent over, legs spread and hands tied behind her back with a thin leather belt. Again her buttocks and rear thighs as well as her cunt were covered in deep red welts from the same strap. Clearly whoever had done this was methodical as the welts covered all of her buttocks and thighs to the knee and had been delivered in an across the buttock as well as along the divide between the buttocks. The two further photos included a side on shot of this pose and a close up of her anus and cunt, clearly inflamed from the attention of the strap. By this time I was frigging myself furiously and soon I was shuddering in a gasping orgasm that caused me to ‘Spit’ all over the towel and my fingers. I was gasping for breath as it rippled through me causing second and third waves to course through my body. If someone had asked me to speak then I could not have done so.

I have never been punished in my life, although I have always known I was submissive to strong men, but right at that moment I wanted badly to be in her shoes. I wanted to be thrashed to the point of being broken. I wanted to be used, humiliated, I wanted to be enslaved.

But what to do now. I couldn’t just ask him about the photos. I cleaned up, made a cup of coffee and was considering this when I suddenly realised that I had seen the strap in his case. I opened the drawer and looked through his belts and there it was a 1″ thick leather strap approximately four foot long. I thought t had been a trouser b
elt, but now I noticed that it didn’t have a buckle or any
holes. I ran it through my fingers and sniffed the leather. Was it my imagination or could I smell the scent of a woman’s cunt and perfume on it? What would it be like to have it lash down on my defenceless buttocks or worst still my breasts and nipples? It felt soft and supple, but had a certain weight to it that suggested it would land heavily.

I replaced the strap, tidied the room and myself and started to drive back to the office. I had made up my mind I was going to feel the kiss of that strap, no matter what it took.

(To be continued)