Mistress Sin dressed in her finest, tight, white jodhpurs, black leather thigh boots, cute leather top and smart leather wristbands. She strode out into the sunshine and looked at the magnificent landscape. All she surveyed was hers. Her successful modelling career had brought her wealth and power. Now, still only a young woman, she enjoyed the fruits of her labours. Since an early age she had possessed a natural air of superiority.

Hanging out in the fashionable haunts of Paris, Milan, London and New York, she had been introduced to the fetish scene and had enjoyed what she had seen. Over the years, as boyfriends had come and cheated and gone, she had built up a hardness and coldness towards the male of the species. And as time went on, she embraced the fetish scene and had become more and more engrossed in the domination of men.

She strode past her stables, patting her favourite mounts as she went, and plucked a short hunting whip from a hook on the wall. With pinpoint accuracy, she snapped the whip and flicked the head clean off a daisy. She was not in the best of moods and she was ready for an encounter with any male worker who crossed her path. The males who attended to her every desire and the needs of her estate were handpicked submissives from the fetish clubs.

Over a period of years she had gathered dozens of willing slaves and she did not even know how many she owned. All of them had signed a pledge of obedience and had turned their lives over to her.

They slept in barns, without luxuries or property, and were expected to work long, hard hours, toiling on the land, or in her household.

Having spent years on the catwalk, being leered at by men, Mistress Sin had little regard for them. She would often take male lovers, as well as female ones. But generally she looked upon men as a lower form of life, to be used and abused and worked for her benefit. Having met many strict dominatrixes, she took advice regarding the handling and disciplining of males. It was well known amongst her female circle that men were lazy and scheming creatures who could only work and concentrate properly if they were kept constantly in check.

Mistress Sin had developed a fine whip arm and had learnt how to use the lash to great effect. With her charges, she learnt that the carrot and stick approach worked well, but with rather more stick than carrot. Now, as an experienced slave owner, she knew how to deal with disobedience and laziness. The men feared and worshipped her in equal parts. Every now and then, she might allow a slave a taste of kindness and her boots.

“Morning Mistress,” a slave said, falling to his knees with his head bowed, as she passed him by.

As she soon as she had passed, he went back to his task of cutting the grass with a scythe. Mistress Sin favoured old-fashioned methods of tending to her land and traditional ways of farming and gardening. Although these practices were more gruelling for the slaves, she believed that their efforts were worth the results.

Mistress Sin ambled idly towards the burbling river which ran through her land. She stopped at the pumping station to watch one of her slaves who was working nearby.