Continues from chapter twelve
Chapter Thirteen: The Loan
Part One: A Different Mistress
>From the Diary of Cheryl Branford
Friday October 23, 1998
I sit at the window of the fast food restaurant, watching the traffic go by. The workweek is over, and the roads are filled with people going home to family, shopping, and looking forward to the weekend.
In my purse are the directions to Mistress Lori's house, which Mistress Janet had given me the previous Sunday. Mistress Janet has fulfilled the second request that I have made of her, that she would loan me out to another Domme.
Actually, I know Brookline quite well, since I went to school here for a year. Janet had provided me with virtually fail safe directions to Lori's House, but I kept silent that I knew the area.
I cannot believe that I am here, having driven over a hundred miles for the purpose of serving another Mistress! I know that this weekend I shall be naked, whipped, and used sexually by another woman. Worse, I desire this treatment!
It has been just five months since I have willingly submitted myself to Mistress Janet. In that time I have learned both the pleasure and pain which has come as the price of submission to a Mistress.
In the back of the restaurant, trying hard not to be obvious, are a pair of teenagers in love. They sit on the same side in a booth, hugging and kissing, the boy's hands roving over her body when he thinks that nobody is watching.
I smile, wondering how she might react if she saw the marks I carry. Or what the small leather collar around my neck really means, the ring on my finger, and the chain on my ankle. When Janet gave me the collar to wear in public last week, I was pleased and happy. Until I realized one day while shopping that I am now collared, ringed, and chained in public. I now wear constant reminders of my slavery even when I am not in Janet's presence. I am a slave to Mistress Janet, which is what I feared that I might become.
Janet broke down my last wall of resistance when she asked me if her friend Master Craig could use me. How could I refuse to be used by the man of my dreams? He used me as Janet did, then made savage love to me afterwards. Had he asked me to return home with him I would have done so, as his slave.
I finish my drink, and walk to the bathroom to freshen up. I wash my face, and dry myself off. I apply lipstick, and straighten my sweater and jeans.
Summoning my courage, I walk outside, and get behind the wheel of my car. I start it, then pull into traffic, and the remaining drive to Lori's house only takes about fifteen minutes. My heartbeats faster as I wonder what pain and pleasure await me.
Mistress Lori and Gina live in a house in an upscale suburb of Brookline. I follow the directions that Janet has given me, into a winding series of streets in a new development of large homes.
I make certain of the address, then pull into a driveway. In the driveway I see a Jeep Wagoneer, and place my Lexus beside it. I exit my car, remove a small suitcase and clothing bag, then walk to the front door, and ring the bell, terrified.
"You must be Cheryl," greeted a woman, "I'm Gina, Mistress Lori isn't home yet. Please come in."
"Pleased to meet you," I reply, extending my hand in greeting.
"Welcome," Gina answers, "can I take your coat?"
"Thank you."
I place my suitcase on the floor, and my clothing bag on top. Gina takes my coat and places it in the hall closet.
"Let's put your things in your room," she suggests.
I take my clothing bag and Gina takes my suitcase, and we go upstairs to a nicely appointed bedroom. There is no hint that Lori is a Domme, no ringbolt in the wall. Just a nice brass four poster bed, which I know that I can be secured to easily.
Gina is in her thirties, and quite attractive. About five feet four inches, she is wearing an Ann Taylor blouse and skirt in red and modest heels.
"Mistress Lori is running a little late at work. I'm making Dinner, want to help?"
"Sure."
I follow her back downstairs and we pass through the Dining Room, where I notice that the table is already set for three. My eyes linger on the table and place settings, and Gina notices my attention.
"We'll be eating together, unlike at Mistress Janet's House," stated Gina, "Mistress Lori is a lot less formal than Mistress Janet. Besides, we don't own such a grand House like she does."
"You usually eat together?" I ask.
"Yes, except when Lori is entertaining a guest, when I may be called on to serve in a uniform. Other than that, we eat together, and sleep together also."
"Oh!" I answer, recognition dawning that there are different relationships in D/s than Janet's formality. I now wonder if Janet and Tina share meals together also, instead of her being served in the Dining Room whenever I am there.
"I'm just about to bread the fish, want to help?" asks Gina.
"Sure."
I follow Gina into the kitchen, where a pot of soup is slowly cooking on the stove, and the table is covered in everything needed for a fish fry. Fillets on a dish, a bowl with flour, and another with bread crumbs.
"I was just about to whisk the eggs," said Gina.
"I'll do it," I offer.
I break three eggs into a bowl, then whisk them until the yolks are completely mixed in. Gina then adds in some spices, and we are ready. Next I assist Gina by first coating the flounder in flour, then dipping them into the egg, then finally coating them in bread crumbs. We place the fish into the fridge when finished, and wash our hands together.
"We're having New England Chowder, Salad, Fried Flounder, and Baked Potatoes," listed Gina, "is this your first visit here?"
"I was here long ago," I answer.
"Perhaps we'll show you around tomorrow. You won't be cleaning the playroom all weekend," she laughed.
"That would be nice."
"Chowder's just about done," observes Gina as she lifts the pot's lid, the kitchen filling with a wonderful aroma.
I hear the front door open, and close. Gina replaces the cover and walks quickly to the front door, with me following.
"Good evening, Gina," greets Lori.
"Good evening, Mistress."
Lori hands her coat to Gina, who hangs it in the hall closet. She is wearing a dark blue business suit, her hair in a bun at the back of her head.
"How was your day?"
"Very good, Mistress."
"I see that we have a visitor, welcome, Cheryl."
"Hello, Mistress Lori," I bow as Janet has instructed me to.
"I'm going to change and freshen up, and you can start Dinner. Is everything prepared?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Good, I'll be down in ten minutes."
Lori walks upstairs, and I help Gina place the salad on the table, along with bread and butter. I help Gina in the kitchen, who evidently has had everything well prepared in advance.
We are all seated at the table as Gina serves the salad, and Lora and Gina begin making small talk about work. Then we have some bread, then Gina brings out three bowls of steaming New England Clam Chowder.
"Thank you, Gina," said Lori.
"You're welcome, Mistress."
"You're allowed to speak, Cheryl. I'm not quite as formal as Mistress Janet, but you must remember how to address me."
"Thank you, Mistress," I answer.
Lori and Gina continue making small talk, and then even before she's finished with her chowder, Gina goes to the kitchen. I see her light the fire under a frying pan. She returns and finishes the soup, which we have already finished. She takes the bowls and spoons back into the kitchen, leaving Mistress Lori and me alone at the table. Her black eyes bore into me like drills.
"How was the drive from Greenwich?" politely asks Lori.
"Fine, Mistress. No traffic, I left after lunch. A very pleasant drive, thank you."
"Have you ever been to Boston before?"
"No, Mistress," I lie.
"Perhaps we can do some sightseeing tomorrow, show you the town. I'm not going to be using you all weekend."
"Thank you, Mistress. That would be very nice."
I suddenly realize that I am in greater danger here than I was in Janet's house. There, I am a servant, usually naked, but now allowed to wear a rubber Maid's outfit. Here, I am allowed to sit at the table, directly facing Mistress Lori. Even to make small talk! Lori is already suspicious of me, having recognized me from that damn fetish shop in Los Angeles last year. She will try to befriend me, make me slip, do anything to admit why I am here on the East Coast far from home in Janet's house.
The sound of something frying suddenly comes from the kitchen, along with the wonderful aroma of fish frying.
"May I help Gina?" I ask.
"Yes," replies Lori.
I am glad for the reprieve, and I help Lori in the kitchen. I remove the potatoes from the oven, and place them in a dish. There is tartar sauce in the fridge, along with white wine and soda.
Gina fries the fish, drying off the excess oil on a paper towel before placing the main course on a plate. She has made more than enough for three, and rushes to place the oval serving dish on the table.
I follow with the potatoes, and tartar sauce, then another trip with the soda and wine. Lori already has an opener on the table, which she hands to me. I open the wine, hand her the cork, and wait.
"That will be fine, Cheryl, you may pour."
"Thank you, Mistress," I reply.
I pour the wine into three long stemmed glasses made of finely cut crystal. Once everything has been placed on the table, I seat myself after Gina.
"Very good, Gina, thank you," complimented Lori.
"You're welcome, Mistress."
I eat in silence, only answering when asked a question by Lori or her companion. The chowder was excellent, and the fish even better. Gina suddenly rises from the table, and retrieves a dish of steamed broccoli. The meal is now complete, and we settle down to eat.
Lori manages an office, and Gina is a graphics designer. They make small talk together, and I eat in silence. Once the main course is complete, Gina and I remove the dishes, and we bring out coffee and cake.
"Are you all right?" asks Lori.
"A little tired, Mistress," I answer.
"After Dinner, you can rest for a while before I'll want you."
"Thank you, Mistress."
Once I help Gina with the dishes I am allowed to go to my bedroom and I lay down on the bed. What am I doing here? To prove that I can serve another woman? Or that I can stand up to her use of me?
I fall into an uneasy sleep on the bed.
"Cheryl," I hear a voice waking me.
"Gina," I answer when I open my eyes.
"Mistress Lori will want you in an hour. She has asked that you prepare yourself for her as you do for Mistress Janet."
"I'll have to bathe, rouge my aureole, and perfume myself. That will take an hour or so," I reply sleepily.
"I'll help," answers Gina.
"Thank you."
True to her word, Gina helps me after I shower and dry my hair. I remove my leather collar when I bathe, but not my ring or my ankle chain. In the bedroom, she has stripped also, and I see that she is wearing a gold ring in her right nipple.
I prepare myself just as Tina has taught me, sometimes painfully, to get properly ready for Mistress Janet. The perfume stings as it dries between my legs, on the tender flesh that has felt the lash and crop. In between application, I rouge my nipples, conscious of the fact that I never prepared myself so thoroughly when I dated a man.
Then again, he wasn't expected to take a riding crop to me if I failed to be properly ready either.
"You've very beautiful," comments Gina.
"Thank you," I reply.
In the bedroom mirror I see the marks that Janet has placed upon me last week. I wonder if it was my imagination, or did she go easy on me then? Were the strokes of the crop lessened in order that Lori would use me more?
I place my feet into a pair of mules, then follow Gina to a small study downstairs. She knocks on the closed door and Lori bids me entrance.
"Come inside," Lori orders.
I enter the room, naked. It is a smaller version of Janet's library. Bookcases, a desk and computer. Including an unfamiliar leather clad woman seated behind the desk.
"Thank you, Mistress."
"You may stand in front of the desk."
I close the door behind me, and stand naked in front of Lori. In the past, I would be blushing a deep red by now, embarrassed. But I am past such things now, used to being seen and used by others.
"Hands behind your head, and turn around, slowly," Lori orders.
I do as I am told, having presented myself to Janet like this before on many occasions. My aureole are rouged a deep red, and I can smell the perfume that I have applied between my thighs. My underarms are shaved clean, and I wonder if Janet will eventually demand that I shave my sex as well.
"You are quite beautiful," observes Lori, "when were you last used?"
"Saturday, by Mistress Janet."
"With what instrument, and how many strokes?"
"Twenty-five strokes with the riding crop, Mistress," I calmly answer.
"Thank you, you may put your arms down now," Lori orders.
"Thank you, Mistress."
"Place your hands on the desk."
"Yes, Mistress."
Lori rises to her feet as I follow my orders in silence. I know that I am going to be used, even before we go to her playroom, but how?
"Why are you here?" asks Lori.
"To serve another Mistress," I answer.
"Aren't there plenty of Dommes in Los Angeles?"
"I am here today to serve you, Mistress Lori."
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
I received three blows on my bottom that would have staggered me before I was trained and brought me to tears, but I am used to such force by now.
"Why are you here being trained by Janet, a good friend of mine, three thousand miles from your home?
"I wanted to be trained by Mistress Janet," I answer.
"Her reputation extends to LA, to a woman with no connection to the scene?" demands Lori, steel in her voice.
"Yes, Mistress," I calmly answer.
"Do you consider yourself to be strong?"
"Yes, Mistress," I answer.
"Yes, Cheryl, I did remember you from the fetish shop in LA. It was sheer coincidence that you were there when I went in with a girlfriend of mine. I did tell Janet afterwards that I remembered you, yet you are here, loaned to me for a weekend. Aren't you worried that I may hurt you?"
"No, Mistress Lori."
"Why?" she softly asks me.
"Because I know that being an associate of Janet's you would never hurt or abuse a slave, Mistress," I answer.
"Ah!" I cry, when Lori's fingers invade my sex.
"Mistress Janet is a good friend of mine, and a well known and loved Domme in the scene. I may not be able to make you explain why you are here, but I will make you prove to me what you have learned from Janet's training. Do you understand?"
"Yes!" I cry, as her fingers dig into my sex.
"That's good," answered Lori calmly, as if she had been inspecting a car for purchase, instead of a woman.
She wipes her hands on a tissue, then selects a long wooden ruler. She hefts it in her hands, displaying it for my terror.
"Has Janet ever used a ruler on that bottom of yours?"
"No Mistress."
"Do you know why?"
"No, Mistress," I answer, terror in my voice.
"Because it has sharp edges, and can break the skin easily if used. And it can drive splinters into the wound as well. I'm not going to use it on you unless you give me a reason, by not obeying an order. Understand?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Very good, now sit in the chair, I have quite another test in mind for you," Lori orders.
I do as I am told, and sit naked on the cool leather. I had been fearful and afraid that the hard wood of the ruler was going to be used on me for the first time, and now I wonder what test Lori wants me to perform.
She places the ruler on her desk, then removes a vibrator and phallus. Holding the vibrator in her hands, she flicks the switch, and I can hear a slight buzzing sound.
"You may use your hand, the vibrator, or the dildo. I want you to give yourself an orgasm in my presence," Lori orders.
"I've never done that before in the presence of another woman, Mistress," I answer.
"Nice to see that I can ask something of you that Mistress Janet has not. Do it!"
Embarrassed, I place my hand between my legs, inserting my fingers into my already wet love box. I tickle and pull at my pubic hairs, then insert two of fingers inside where Lori has already probed. Then I begin to move my fingers in and out, simulating the motion of a man's cock.
There is a small mirror in the library, no doubt specially placed to reflect back upon the occupant of the chair. I look at my red face, and I feel acutely embarrassed by this action. Janet has never asked me to do this, and Lori has already threatened me with a fearsome instrument if I do not perform.
"May I have the vibrator, Mistress?" I ask in a soft voice.
"Yes."
I take the vibrator from the desk, turn it on, and place the buzzing shaft between my legs. The hard plastic is the remaining stimulation that I need, and I soon feel myself get wet and excited. My breaths become shorter, my chest heaves, and soon I climax.
"Ah!" I cry, one time after another as the waves of pleasure course through my naked body, for Lori's entertainment.
"Very good," compliments Lori.
I place the vibrator back on the desk, the plastic surface wet with my secretions. Surely Lori wants to lick my own juices from the device, just a Janet would?
"Thank you, Mistress," I answer.
"That was easy to do, wasn't it?" Lori asks, "much easier to bear than a session with the cane?"
"Yes, Mistress," I answer.
Last week, Janet again allowed me the use of another of her slaves. I let the girl choose the instrument, and she wanted the cane. I had wanted the crop, but instead the cane was her choice. It took all of my concentration to avoid drawing blood, to break the skin.
"Since you're now nice and wet, Gina will take you to the playroom, where I have a few different toys than Janet. Do you submit to my use?" asks Lori.
"Yes, Mistress Lori."
"What is your safeword?"
"Sin, Mistress," I answer.
Gina opens the library door. She has changed into a leather bra and skirt, and now wears a collar around her neck. I wonder what she is carrying in her hands.
"Stand up," Gina orders.
I comply quickly, and Gina takes hold of my right wrist, and I feel the bite of cold steel around it. Gina has a pair of handcuffs, and my left wrist is quickly made prisoner as well. I suddenly realize that in the entire time I have been used by Mistress Janet, she has only used the leather bracelets to bind me.
"Pull at the all you like," suggests Lori, "you'll never escape."
Naked and cuffed, I make a vain attempt to free myself from the implacable steel that holds me prisoner. But nothing I do is of any avail, and my wrists remain locked in steel.
"Take her down to the playroom, and place her in the cage," orders Lori.
Gina grabs hold of my arms, and I am forced marched down to the playroom. While the basement of the house is large, it is nothing compared to what Mistress Janet possesses.
Against the wall of the basement (done in fake brick, I notice, for atmosphere) is a large steel cage, of the sort used for large animals. Or I realize, big enough for a single person.
I am marched over to the cage, and I see that the door is open. On the cage floor is a wooden pallet, covered by a blanket.
"On your knees and inside," orders Gina.
I place myself on my knees, bend down low, and inch myself inside the cage onto the blanket. Once inside, the door is closed, and Gina padlocks the door through a hasp.
"Place your back to the bars."
I do as I am told, and my right wrist is freed of the steel, but not the left. I turn around, then look at my captor.
"Lock it back on your wrist, with your hands in front."
I take the cuff into my left hand, then lock it back around my right wrist, hearing each click as I close the ratchets tighter around my flesh.
"Lori will be along after a bit to attend to you, Cheryl. In the meantime, enjoy the cage. There's no escape."
Gina dims the lights, then closes the door behind her. With my wrists enclosed in steel, I pull at the bars without effect. Next my fingers try for the padlock. On my knees, I try to pull my wrists apart, fighting against the handcuffs that restrain me.
I am naked, locked in a steel cage in the playroom of another Mistress who is already suspicious of me. By my own choice! Tears fall from my eyes as I settle down to wait for Mistress Lori.
The cage is large enough so that I can sit with my legs pulled up close to my chin, or lay down somewhat. Regardless, I am a prisoner. I recall that Janet has a cell in her Dungeon that I was made to sleep in for a couple of nights after I had displeased her.
There is no clock in the playroom, so I have no way of measuring the passage of time. I can turn to look outside my steel prison, but a table or something blocks my view of the rest of the room.
I settle down to wait for Lori, occasionally pulling at the handcuffs on my wrists. My fingers caressing the smooth cold stainless steel that holds me captive.
"Wake up!" commands Lori, as she strikes the bars of the cage.
"Yes, Mistress," I dumbly answer as I struggle back to wakefulness. Have I really fallen asleep in my cage, and how long have I been inside?
Mistress Lori opens the door, and I wait inside, for permission to come out. I have learned from Mistress Janet not to make any moves unless having been given permission first.
"You may leave your cage," orders Lori.
I exit the cage, stiff from my confinement. I get to my feet, my muscles stiff from the ordeal of crouching in the cage for so long.
"There's a bowl of water on the table, plus a cloth to dry yourself with," suggests Lori, "let me remove your cuffs."
I hold out my hands and my cuffs are unlocked. I spy the bowl and cloth, and plunge my hands into water that feels like it is freezing cold! Then I withdraw my hands in surprise, and look sadly at Mistress Lori.
"Wash yourself or I'll pour the bowl over you," threatens Lori.
Even though the water is ice cold, I wash my face with it. The cold water instantly awakens me, and I dry my hands and face with a soft white towel.
It is while I'm drying myself that I look at what I thought was a table. At each end is a wheel and chains. It is a rack! I stop and stare, looking in horror at the device.
"Are you awake?"
"Yes, Mistress," I answer.
"Good. Gina, you may fit her collar and bracelets on."
"Yes, Mistress."
Trembling, I stand in place as Gina locks on the familiar instruments of my bondage. I am made to place my ankles one at a time on a stool so that Gina does not have to bend all the way to lock my ankle bracelets on. Soon, I am attired as usual.
"Kneel," commands Lori.
I kneel in front of Mistress Lori, conscious of the fact that I now deeply long for Mistress Janet.
"Do you submit to my use?"
"Yes, Mistress," I answer.
"You may then select the instrument of your use," Lori commands.
Against the wall is a wooden cabinet that Gina has opened for my inspection. I see all of the familiar instruments of a Domme. I breathe deeply, and select a rubber flogger. I know that the stands will sting and hurt, and mark easily. But I know that unless I prove to Lori that I am both submissive and well trained, she will use me even harder than Mistress Janet.
I remove the flogger from the cabinet, stand before Lori, and sink to my knees in front of her. Then I present the rubber flogger to her.
"Please flog me, Mistress?" I ask softly.
"Your wish shall be granted. Gina!"
"Yes, Mistress!"
"Hang Cheryl from the ceiling chain, with her legs spread. She's going to be severely flogged this night, perhaps harder than ever before. I want her naked little body totally available to me."
"Yes, Mistress," answers Gina.
I stand in silence as I am again hung from a ceiling chain, exposed to whatever mercies that Mistress Lori has in mind for me. Janet has never asked me to select the method of my torment, so I was shaking inside as I looked at the contents of Lori's cabinet.
Just a few miles from here I went to school and studied literature before I went back to Stamford. I remembered my walks at Harvard, Boston University, and others with the friends that I had made in my first year of college.
But now I'm naked, hanging from a ceiling, again expecting to feel the bite of the lash. Nor is it long in coming, as Lori does not even want me to kiss the flogger or ask for my use. Instead she draws her arm back, and lashes me against my outstretched breasts.
"Ah!" I cry, "ah!"
My entire body is to feel the flogger, and Lori circles around me, striking an area a few times, then moving on. Each stroke stings and probably marks, but I do not know or care. I have placed myself in this position, and I have nobody to blame but myself.
"Ah!"
"Ah!"
There are no sounds in the playroom except for those of the flogger striking my flesh, the click of Lori's heels as she walks around me, and my moans and breaths. In spite of the treatment that I am receiving, I stand proud and tall, just as Mistress Janet has taught me to.
"You have learned your lessons well," compliments Lori.
"Yes, Mistress," I gasp, between strokes.
My breasts, underarms, and thighs are all singled out for special treatment, and I feel the sting of each rubber strand as it strikes my flesh. I moan with both pain and pleasure, my mind divorcing itself from my body, as I enter that special submissive place in my mind. Which I did not know existed before I began to serve Mistress Janet.
"Kiss the flogger," directs Lori.
"Yes, Mistress," I answer, wondering how much time has passed and how many strokes I have endured, "thank you, Mistress Lori."
"Are you a bondage slut?" asks Lori.
"Ah!" I cry, as her fingers enter my sex and rub my clit, "yes, Mistress, I'm a slut!"
I have a Masters in Business that I earned from Stamford University, heiress to a family fortune (though I have kept my name and position out of the papers so that I can achieve this mad scheme), yet I have been trained as a slave. And to my horror, I have come to enjoy it! Being kept naked, used physically and then sexually, made to serve another man or woman.
"Slut!"
Lori's fingers are coated with my secretions, and she does not have to order me to clean them when they are placed in my mouth. I do so automatically, without prompting from the Domme.
"Gina, release this slave, I am not finished with her yet," Lori orders in a firm tone of voice.
I am released from my bondage, only to be made to kneel in front of Mistress Lori, who is not seated in a chair similar to the one that Janet has in her Dungeon. She is dressed in a skintight PVC Catsuit, complete with a matching corset around her waist.
"Lick my shoes," orders Lori.
Without hesitation I get on my hands along with my knees, and Lori crosses her legs, and extends her right foot to my lips. She is wearing a pair of shoes on her feet that are locked to her ankles by a leather strap and a small padlock.
I begin to lick and suck at the PVC material of her shoes without hesitation or shame. My skin still burns from the harsh flogging that I have received, but that only has made me more sexually excited.
First Lori made me give myself an orgasm in her presence, something that Janet never did. Now I am asked to lick a Domme's shoes, and I do so without question, my sex wet with desire.
Twice in one night Mistress Lori has made me do something different, and my heart thunders in my chest. I have discovered a new level of submission, and I yearn for more.
"Does Mistress Janet know what sort of submissive that she has unleashed?" Lori demands.
"Yes, Mistress," I answer.
"Does she whip you to a frenzy?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Make you scream with pain and pleasure?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Get over my knee, Cheryl. You need a paddle on your bottom, and I'm going to administer it!"
I quickly follow her orders, and I am now resting on her lap. Then I smell the PVC that Lori is wearing, and my own scent is that of intense arousal. Gina hands Lori a leather paddle, and my bottom is rubbed in advance of my next use.
Crack!
Crack!
Crack!
Crack!
Crack!
"Thank you, Mistress!" I cry after five harsh strokes, my bottom burning from the impacts
Crack!
Crack!
Crack!
Crack!
Crack!
"Thank you, Mistress," I gasp, tears falling from my eyes, for Lori has struck me harder on my bottom than Janet ever has.
"Kiss the paddle," orders Lori.
I do so without question, even as I feel my bottom burning from the use that it has already suffered. Then I feel Lori's fingers between the cheeks of my abused bottom, and I wonder if I am going to be used there too!
"Should I use all of your holes tonight, Cheryl, or leave your ass for tomorrow? Or are you already totally submissive?"
"I'm submissive, Mistress. You may use me in any way that you like."
"On the floor, Cheryl, on your knees," orders Lori.
I do as I am told, wincing when my bottom touches the heel of my feet. My rear has been used quite harshly, and I wonder how I am going to sit down afterwards.
"Gina, take this slut to my bedroom in a few minutes after you clean her up. I shall have her this night."
"Yes, Mistress," answers Gina.
Lori exits the playroom, leaving me alone with Gina. I am taken upstairs, and Gina cleans the sweat from my body, and my sex with a scented towelette. I am then perfumed again, and my hair brushed and set. Looking at myself in the mirror, I am amazed at the stripes that the flogger has left on my skin.
In her bedroom, Lori is naked upon the sheets, her fragrant sex open to my attentions. Without being ordered to, I quickly apply my lips and tongue to her sex, thinking of how I pleasured Mistress Janet last week.
Then I notice that Gina has removed her leather clothes, and joins us in bed. She gets under me, then begins to work on my sex just as I am doing with Mistress Lori.
I am having a hard time concentrating on pleasing Lori as I am being pleasured at the same time. My legs are open wide, and Gina plays her tongue over my clit, making me moan with pleasure.
"You must make me come before Gina makes you come, else you shall be beaten again," describes Lori.
With renewed vigor, I attach myself to Lori's lovebox, determined not to succumb to Gina's attentions. I apply myself, using everything that Tina has taught me in the arts of pleasing a woman, and eventually I succeed in making Lori moan and buck with pleasure.
Gina then removes herself from my sex, and I see that my juices are on her lips. We kiss, before Lori pulls me closer to her. She pulls the quilt over the two of us, and Gina leaves the room, closing the lights behind her.
Lori and I made languid slow love after that, until we both fell asleep together. Even though I have been harshly used and my skin burns, I feel quite happy about tonight. I fall into a dark, dreamless sleep.
Part Two: The Rack
>From the Diary of Cheryl Branford
Saturday October 24, 1998
It was late afternoon, and I was tired after a day of sightseeing around Boston. I have not been a tourist anywhere for a long time, and now my feet hurt.
"Would you like to rest?" asked Lori.
"Yes, Mistress," I answer.
True to her words of last night, on Saturday morning after breakfast the two of us had set out together. We had seen all of the usual tourist sites in Boston, then trudged through the city. I had followed her without question.
We go into a restaurant, and get a window seat. I look out the window, and see the grounds of Harvard University, where I had gone to school for a year before I transferred to Stamford in California!
Lori orders coffee for the two of us, and after the waitress delivers it, we are left alone. Her eyes bore into me like drills.
"Have you ever been here before, Cheryl?" plainly asks Lori.
"No, Mistress," I answer, lying through my teeth. I wonder if Lori can detect that I am lying to her?
"If I contact a friend of mine in the admissions department of Harvard, will she find your name?" questions Lori as she sips her coffee.
"No, Mistress," I answer softly.
"I have contacts and friends in many colleges in the Boston area, some say that it's the main industry here. If not Harvard, perhaps Boston University, or somewhere else? You don't seem like a Yale type to me," observed Lori.
"I went to Stamford University in California, Mistress, and received an MBA in Finance. My background is known to Mistress Janet."
"I'm sure that it is, Cheryl. Except that it doesn't answer the question of why you're here, after my seeing you at that shop in LA."
"I'm here to be trained by Mistress Janet, then loaned out to you so that I may experience another Domme, Mistress Lori," I curtly answer.
Lori says nothing in return but merely sips at her coffee, and stares at me. Her black eyes bore into me as before.
"Tonight, after Dinner, I shall put you to the ultimate test, Cheryl. Did you see the full contents of my playroom last night?"
"Yes, Mistress, I saw the rack," I answer.
"That shall be your test, Cheryl, the rack. You can, of course, refuse. That is your right."
"No, Mistress," I answer, "that will be quite all right. I accept the rack willingly."
"Brave words for one clothed in a restaurant in the heart of Boston, but you may change your mind later."
It has been five months since I have entered into the world of submission. I have been stripped naked, flogged, cropped and whipped. All of my orifices have been used repeatedly, and I have been lent out to Janet's associates. I wear a collar, ring, and chain on my ankle. There is nothing left for me but the rack.
"Tonight, Mistress," I answer, "I shall prove my submission."
We meet Gina for Dinner at another restaurant, Durgen Park outside Fanueil Hall. Originally, I had thought that we might have gone to Legal Seafood, but we had fish the previous night.
Usually, I would be serving Dinner to Mistress Janet, either naked or wearing a Maid's uniform. Instead, someone else is serving us, and I feel the leather collar around my neck marks me as a slave.
I eat a large steak and baked potato, and my only deference to Mistress Lori is that I do not have any alcohol to dull my senses. We are three women friends out for Dinner, and a man comes out of the crows at the bar to try to pick up Gina. She politely declines, and he leaves us alone after that.
After Dinner, we go to an Art Gallery opening. A friend of Lori's has an exhibition of his paintings. I stand off to one side as Lori circulates the crows, and eat some cheese and more soda.
We get back home, and Lori suggests that I rest in my bedroom. I take the opportunity, undress, and fall into bed, into a deep dream filled sleep of my time under the lash of Mistress Janet.
"Good evening," I hear through the fog of sleep.
"What time is it?" I ask.
"Eleven thirty," Gina answers.
I sit up naked in bed, and rub my eyes. After my rest, I feel reinvigorated, ready for anything. Even the rack.
"I had better get ready, then," I say aloud to Gina.
"Yes, I'll help."
I wash, the warm water returning me back to full awareness. Much to my surprise, Gina does not ask me to go through the ritual of rouge and perfume. Once I am clean and ready, she cuffs my hands behind my back and places a blindfold over my eyes.
Then I am marched down to the playroom, and made to kneel. I have not even been gagged, which is a surprise. My time on the rack is to be direct and with a minimum of ceremony.
Gina removes my blindfold, and I see that Lori is seated in her chair. I remain silent, as my training has taught me.
"Do you now accept the rack, Cheryl?" Lori asks.
"Yes, Mistress," I answer.
"You may still back out."
"Please place me on the rack, Mistress?" I ask.
"As you wish. Gina, please assist me."
I am released from my handcuffs, and made to lie down on the rack. My wrists and ankles are placed within fur lined cuffs, and locked. I am in the familiar shape of an X, my body totally exposed.
"You may still back out, Cheryl."
"No thank you, Mistress Lori."
"What is your safeword?"
"Sin, Mistress," I answer.
"Remember it well," Lori cautions.
Lori ever so slowly begins to turn the wheel, and I hear the ratchets click one after another. I do not feel anything yet, as merely the slack is taken up. But ever so gradually the tension begins, as I am pulled flat.
"Are you all right, Cheryl?"
"Yes, Mistress," I answer.
I stare resolutely at the ceiling light, concentrating on the light bulbs. My body is pulled taut, my breasts flat against my chest.
Lori begins to fondle me, and my breasts are her first objects of attention. She pulls at my nipples, which are erect, then holds one entire breast in her hand. Then one of her hands traces the outlines of my sex, and I moan with pleasure.
"Ah!" I cry.
My reward is to hear the ratchets click further and I am pulled tighter. If anyone had told me a year earlier that I would be in this position, I would have told him or her that they were crazy. Instead this is the final test of my submission.
"Ah!"
"AH!"
The pain is intense, and I swallow, my mouth has suddenly become dry and like paper. Fear and pleasure mixed together in a strange manner that I have never experienced before. I have a achieved a new feeling of total submission that is new to me.
"Are you all right, Cheryl?" Lori asks.
"Yes, Mistress," I answer.
"You are very brave, Cheryl," compliments Lori.
After what seems like an eternity, the chain is released, and the tension on my body falls away. I feel like I am seven feet tall as Gina helps me to sit up and take a drink of water.
"Are you all right?" asks Gina.
"Yes, thank you."
That night, I am not used again. I spend the night with Gina in a big double bed, and I suspect that she is awake through the night to keep an eye on me. I go back to sleep, wondering if my time on the rack was just a dream as well.
Part Three: Remembrance of Things Past
>From the Diary of Cheryl Branford
Sunday October 25, 1998
My apartment is just as I have left it. The Times is on the doorstep and I carry it inside with me. I place my coat back in the closet, and pour myself a stiff drink.
For all of the terror that the rack generated in me, I was not seriously hurt by it. Lori knew just when to stop before any real damage would happen.
Sunday I took a hot bath to relieve the tension in my joints, given breakfast, then sent on my way by eleven. Lori gave me a short exit interview, and then I departed for home.
My training is now over, and I have the marks to prove it. I am a slave, have been loaned to two of Janet's associates. A Male Dominant has used me, followed by a Dominatrix.
It is now time. From the top dresser drawer, I remove the manila envelope, and look at the pictures of her. Before and after, realizing that I have followed the path that she did, into submission.
I will call my contact in Hong Kong and set into motion my final plan. In scene language, the bottom will control the top. In plain language, I am now going to humiliate Mistress Janet, then make my final demand on her before going home.
Continues in chapter fourteen