Chapter 11

Epilogue, Janet’s story

WARNING, this story has A LOT of character development. If you are looking for one sex scene after another then go somewhere else. It is the result of a comment from a reader who wanted to see something of Janet’s journey and more of Mistress Karen. It rattled around in my head so I took a break from my Kidnapped Campers storyline to bash it out.

It is an example of what I cut out of my stories to keep them from becoming too onerous to read. I usually end up deleting stuff like this as my dick gets soft waiting for the next ball gag to crop up.

It takes place shortly after Chapter 8, then runs concurrently with Chapters 9 and 10. I hope you enjoy it.

Janet stood nervously on the front step, fiddling with her necklace, patting at her hair, pulling on the hem of her dress. Anything to delay the inevitable, but finally she worked up the nerve and rang the bell. After what seemed an eternity of seconds, the door swung open and Mistress Karen stood there, eyeing the anxious woman on her porch with familiar contempt. After another eternity, Karen crossed her arms, leaned against the doorframe and in a bored tone asked “What?”

Janet felt her knees go weak. How could this woman have such a hold over her, what was it about her that had so unceasingly occupied her mind for the past week? She glanced nervously over Karen’s shoulder at the door to the basement, the dungeon where she had been broken down so completely just a short time ago. She bit her lip in frustration, why wouldn’t the words come? She had rehearsed this moment for days, saying her lines over and over until she was sure they were perfect but now her head was a swirl of thoughts and emotions.

“I, um, I wanted...” she stuttered, shuffling her feet and feeling the heels of her stilettoes scrape on the concrete porch. Her eyes were drawn irresistibly to the raven-haired goddess who lounged so easily in front of her.

Karen was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and black leggings, the black strap of her bra winked out beside the lose collar. Her bare feet were crossed as she leaned against the doorframe and red painted toenails were tapping on the floor. Matching the tempo, her perfectly manicured fingernails were drumming slowly on her crossed forearms. Her long black hair was up in a messy bun and loose strands waved gently in the breeze. A sculpted black eyebrow lifted in an unspoken question and the corner of her mouth tensed in irritation.

Janet took a deep, shaky breath. How could this woman be so imperious and so relaxed at the same time? She had probably just interrupted a yoga session, but just a word from Karen would have driven Janet to her knees in submission. “I wanted, what I mean to say is...”

“No.” Karen said with finality, and Janet flinched as if she had been struck by the riding crop she knew was nearby.

“But...” Janet replied.

“I said no.” Karen repeated forcefully and Janet quailed in response. She closed her mouth and hunched her shoulders as if expecting a blow.

“How can I give you what you want, if you don’t know it yourself?” Karen said dismissively.

She looked Janet up and down, her discerning eye noting everything. The black shiny stilettoes that shuffled awkwardly on the step. The smoothly shaved and tanned legs that seemed to travel up forever until they reached the lacy hem of her tight dress at mid-thigh. The gentle curve of Janet’s hip that rolled like a wave to the narrow waist, then up to the impressive bust and cleavage that was on display beyond the lose cowl of her neckline. The sparkling of a single diamond on a fine gold chain that nestled just above the deep valley of her perfect breasts. The moist red lips that were parted ever so slightly in anticipation showing sparkling bleached white teeth. The immaculately made-up face and large eyes framed by long dark lashes and enhanced by the perfect blend of eyeshadow. The curly golden hair that was piled elegantly on her head, held in place by glittering combs and clips but for the two strands that fell to frame the anxious face.

Karen snorted in contempt at the display in front of her as she stepped back from the door. “You have forgotten everything.” She said with a tired sigh. “When you know what you want, and are ready to show me who you really are, then you can come back.”

“Wait, I...” Janet called out but the door slammed in her face. She stood on the porch, scared and humiliated, feeling the tears start to well in her eyes. She turned and hurried to her car, ignoring the annoyed looks of the people she shoved past. She turned the ignition hard and sped away, trying to escape the feeling of disappointment that replaced the expectant lust she had felt as she pulled up.

“What do I want? Who am I?” she sobbed to herself as she drove aimlessly.

Janet stood at the door and rang the bell. She took a deep breath and calmed herself as she heard footsteps approach, then braced as the door swung open. Mistress Karen stood there just as she remembered her and the sight took her breath away.

She was wearing a white silk blouse and black slacks. Her hair was flowing loosely and pulled over one shoulder, an avalanche of onyx over a field of snow. Streaks of white only added to her elegance and reflected her maturity, not her age. She had on elegant but business-like black heels and a black velvet choker with a white cameo drew attention to her long graceful neck. She could have commanded the scene in any board room or political office, only the tight black leather gloves she wore gave any indication of where she really ruled.

Janet drew herself upright and held her chin high as if presenting herself for inspection. In a way, she was and she had put a lot of thought into her outfit. She had on grey slacks and a sensible red blouse with comfortable but attractive boots and a modest heel. Her hair was pulled back in a business-like ponytail and a simple gold chain around her neck matched the earrings and bracelet that were her only jewellery. She shook her head, settling her ponytail down her back and crossed her hands in front of her respectfully.

“I have come directly from work; this is who I really am.” She said in a firm, clear voice. “What I want is...”

“No.” Karen said. She didn’t say it sharply, rudely or even in a commanding tone, but the short word stopped Janet cold again. Her mouth worked as she struggled to remember the speech she had prepared. She was ready to explain everything, if only Karen would listen.

Karen stepped out of the door, her presence forcing Janet to shuffle back awkwardly. She stumbled off of the step and staggered to the sidewalk. When she regained her balance, she stared up at the woman who towered over her.

“This isn’t who you are, this is another mask.” Karen said with a wave of her hand. “Another role with another set of rehearsed lines all designed to continue this charade you call a life.” Karen continued in a soft but firm voice. “I can’t help you until you accept who you really are. Until then, don’t waste any more of my time.” Again, the door closed and again Janet shuffled to her car, defeated and confused.

It was dark, late evening as Janet walked up the path and rang the bell again. Again, the doorknob turned and Janet undid the belt to her coat, pulling it open as Karen opened the door. Underneath it, Janet was naked. Her perfect, enhanced breasts gleamed in the porchlight from the spray of body glitter she had applied. Her spa waxed landing strip of pubic hair served as the punctuation to her display of sex and vulnerability. Her hair was loose, falling in long curls down her back and her makeup was elegantly understated in soft pinks and reds. She had on the red heels that she had worn when she and her daughter had first met the man who introduced them to Mistress Karen, she had considered them lucky ever since. Janet took a deep breath, afraid to speak as Karen inspected her latest effort.

Karen was in her full dominatrix gear of corset, boots and gloves, but may as well have been wearing sweats and sneakers given her relaxed attitude. She shook her head with a sigh of disappointment and Janet sobbed in frustration.

“What do you want from me?” she howled, not caring who heard or saw her.

Karen stepped out and pulled her jacket closed, tying the belt firmly as Janet sniffled and sobbed quietly. She reached up to cup Janet’s face and stroke a tear from her cheek. Janet looked at her desperately, pleading with her eyes for something, anything to help her.

“Your daughter asked her master the same question. Until you stop trying to be someone you are not, I can never help you be the person you want to be.” Karen said, gently tucking a loose curl of hair behind Janet’s ear. “You know what you must do, but you are too afraid to do it. When you have conquered that fear, I will help you conquer the others.” Karen turned and walked back in the house, leaving the softly sobbing woman standing on the sidewalk.

Janet turned and headed down the walk towards her car. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t see the man until she bumped into him.

“Oh, sorry.” She mumbled as she moved to go around him, her hands fumbling in her pockets for her keys.

“Hey baby, what’s the rush?” she heard and felt a strong hand grab her arm. She looked up in alarm at the young man who was holding her. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, then she saw the two other men behind him.

“I’m sorry, I was just leaving.” She said as she tried to pull away, but the hand gripped tighter and pulled her back.

“Hey, we were just leaving too.” The stranger said, “why don’t you come with us?” The two other men moved around to either side, effectively surrounding her as she was pinned against the car.

“No, thank you.” She stammered fearfully. “It’s alright, I need to get home.” She tried to pull away again but ended up bumping into the man on her right. He reached up to steady her and his hand slid in her jacket to grope her breast.

“Shit, this chick is naked!” he shouted as he tugged on the belt of her jacket.

“No, no, stop, please.” Janet pleaded as she struggled to hold her jacket closed.

Strong young hands yanked at the material, pulling her jacket apart and exposing her naked body to their lewd drunken gaze.

“Fuckin’ right dude.” The third man said. “Looks like we found the party tonight. Are you a stripper or something?” he asked as he reached out to grab Janet’s tit.

“Damn, must be a bachelor party around here or something.” The first man said as his hand slid between her legs.

“No, no, let me go!” Janet shouted, struggling to escape from the groping hands and leering eyes of the drunk men who surrounded her.

“Don’t worry babe, we have cash. What do you charge for an hour?”

“More than you can afford asshole.” Janet heard and she looked over her attacker’s shoulder to see Mistress Karen standing behind them. “Let her go and get lost.”

The first man turned at the new voice. “Shit, this must be one hell of a party.” He walked toward Karen, his hand reaching out to feel her up as he did.

“Ahhhh” he cried as Karen swung the crop she held, striking him on the wrist.

“Let her go, and you can leave.” Karen commanded again.

“Fuck bitch, that hurt.” The first man said. “Looks like someone needs to teach you a lesson about who’s in charge here.” He raised his arm to deliver a backhand slap, but instead his hand flew to his face as Karen’s crop left an angry red welt on his cheek.

“Last warning, go.” She repeated.

“Fucking whore!” the man shouted as he lunged for the woman, his arms outstretched to grab her throat. Karen pivoted, crouched and drove the rigid handle of her crop hard into his crotch as he moved past her. He howled in pain and fell to the ground, hands grabbing between his legs at his punished manhood.

“Hey bitch, we were just having fun here.” The second man called out as he charged at Karen. She rose from her crouch and took her crop in both hands, hammering the butt into her attacker’s chest. He whooshed as the air was driven from his lungs, then fell to his knees gasping for air. Karen gave him a contemptuous shove and he toppled to the ground, his mouth working uselessly as he tried to re-inflate his lungs.

“Are you the smart one, or do I have to mess up my lawn any more?” Karen asked and the third man raised his hands in surrender.

“Sorry, sorry. We had a game today and I guess the adrenaline is still in the system.” He said as he backed away.

“I don’t care if you just came from working the coat check at an all-night orgy.” Karen spit angrily as she swung her crop, stopping it a hair breadth away from the man’s nose. “When a woman says no, that doesn’t mean you have to convince her. It means NO asshole!”

The man staggered back, desperate to put some distance between him and the leather clad woman who stood over his friends. “Sorry, sorry, I promise it won’t happen again.” He plead as he backpedaled down the sidewalk.

Karen looked to Janet, and moved over to close her jacket and tie it shut. “Are you alright?” she asked. Janet nodded dumbly, again unable to speak in the presence of this woman.

Karen guided her around her car and opened the door, helping her to her seat and handing her the keys that she had dropped. Then she paused, and passed her the leather crop. “When you are ready, bring it back to me.” she said as she closed the door. Janet watched as the woman strode imperiously up her walk, ignoring the men who were staggering to their feet as she passed. Janet started the car and pulled out as the one friend was helping the other two lurch their way down the sidewalk.

She hurried home, barely able to drive from the adrenaline but comforted by the crop was still in hand. It was a symbol, a talisman of protection given to her by a goddess and the braided leather left its imprint on her palm from the grip she had held it in. She staggered into her apartment, kicking off her shoes and dropping her coat desperate to be rid of the fear that she had felt that night. She rushed to the shower and let the hot water sluice its way over her body, unknotting her muscles and calming her mind. She slid to the floor, sobbing in relief as the adrenaline wore off. She looked down, the crop was still in her hand. Hysterically, she reached up to turn off the water, would it hurt it? Had she damaged it in her selfishness?

She staggered from the shower, slipping on the tile floor as she grasped for the towel. Water streamed unheeded from her hair and body as she wrapped the crop in the fluffy absorbent cotton. She squeezed and hugged it to her chest, pleading for it to be alright. Slowly she unwrapped it, the brown leather shining in the light. She could still smell Mistress Karen’s hand cream on the handle and sobbed in relief, hugging the object to her chest like a cherished doll.

She walked to her bed, still wet from the shower but heedless to everything but what had happened that night. Karen had been magnificent! She had saved her from three men who were almost twice her size, and she hadn’t even mussed her hair doing it. Janet rolled in the sheets, remembering every elegant move like replaying her favorite action movie fight scene over and over in her mind.

Her breath quickened, and she slid her hand between her legs feeling the moistness there. She gasped as her fingers slid over her clit and between her pussy lips, probing and flexing with all to familiar experience. She stopped, and unbidden the loneliness came back. How many nights had she done this, how often had she pleasured herself, alone in her bed.

Even sadder were the memories of when she had done it after her companion had fallen asleep. Her conquest of the evening, satisfied all too soon and heedless of her needs. Her fingers suddenly felt rough and stiff, a tired replay of a movie she had once enjoyed but was now bored with. She sobbed in unrelieved frustration and in a fit of rage swung the crop hard against her thigh.

A flash of pain exploded in her brain, driving away all of the other thoughts as it spread like lightning across a dark sky. She stiffened in surprise, then struck herself again. The pain returned, for a second cleansing her mind of everything that she hated about herself. Again and again she flailed, striking her legs, breasts, back, anywhere she could reach until she had rolled off the bed and collapsed to her knees in exhaustion. She was throbbing all over her body, but that is all she felt. It was blessed relief from a prison she did not even know she had been in. She looked at the crop in her hand, such a tool, such a weapon, such healing in such a simple thing.

She bit her lip, then slowly slid the thick leather handle between her legs. She gasped as the braided material rubbed over her clit and pussy lips, massaging them like a new lover eager to please her. She fell forward, heedless of the rough carpet against her cheek as she worked the crop between her legs. She moaned in ecstasy as it slid into her, the soft but rigid material filling her in a way she had not felt in a long time. She shoved it in and out, touching her most sensitive areas in a new and exciting way. Her hand groped for her breast, squeezing the firm flesh between her fingers and pinching the hard nipple with almost painful arousal.

She rolled on her back, her legs spread wide as she shoved the crop deep in her pussy. Her moans filled the empty room while she fucked herself harder and harder with the rigid leather. Both hands now, shoving it deep and fast into her body, she howled in a way she had not done in years as her orgasm exploded out of her. She quivered and shook, her heels drumming on the floor as her hand vibrated the shaft of the crop, making it find places she had forgotten existed. It felt like forever as the pleasure washed over her like waves on the beach, until she lay gasping and spent unable to move barely able to breathe.

She staggered to her bed, the crop still gripped in her hand. The smell of her sex and the leather mixing with the still trace scents of Mistress Karen was the most beautiful thing she could imagine. She fell asleep, curled in a ball and holding the crop close to her body like a cherished friend.

The next morning, Janet awoke as the sun streamed into her bedroom. She dragged herself out of bed and to the kitchen, desperate for coffee. It had only been a few hours since she fell asleep, and she felt every day her age as a result. She fumbled for the kettle and set it on the stove to boil as she propped herself up on the counter. She glanced at the clock, then saw herself reflected in the toaster in front of her.

Every line on her face stood out in stark relief, her eyes were red and puffy from crying and her hair was a mess from sleeping on it wet. She took a deep breath and saw her breasts rise and fall on her chest, the only perfect thing about her because they were fake. How could anyone love something like this she wondered. She reached out to push the toaster away, hoping that losing the reflection will banish the person. She paused, and looked again.

Desperately she pounded on Karen’s door, banging repeatedly heedless of the hour. It was early morning on a Sunday, and she was getting some very awkward stares from people on their way to church or taking their morning jog. She didn’t care, all that mattered was Karen.

The door opened, and Karen stood there. She was barely awake, wrapped in a house coat with her hair pulled back in a hasty ponytail.

“This is who I am.” Janet said as she stood on the porch. She was wearing her most comfortable hoodie and sweat pants, her feet shoved in her pink crocs. Her hair was the same rats nest it had been when she rushed from her apartment and there wasn’t a speck of make up on her tired face.

“I am an old woman, putting on her face every day hoping that I don’t miss a spot and the world sees the real me.” She said in a rush. “I am lonely, desperate for companionship. No, not companionship, affirmation. Reassurance that I am still the woman I am trying to be every day.”

She sagged against the doorway. “But every day it gets harder.” She sobbed. “I spend more time trying to look young, because every day I am older. I am terrified that some day it won’t work anymore and then it will be too late.”

Janet looked up at the person in front of her, also devoid of make up or styling but still perfect. Confident in who she was, regardless of how others saw her.

“I want to be like you.” Janet sobbed. “I want to be happy with who I am, instead of fighting to be who I used to be.”

Karen reached out and took her in her arms, pulling her into a comforting embrace as Janet cried on her shoulder. “Now we can begin.” Karen said and Janet sobbed in relief.

Janet pulled herself up, wiping the tears from her eyes and tugging her hoodie back in to place. Then, hesitantly she held out the crop. “This is yours.” She said in a quiet voice.

“Keep it, you earned it.” Karen replied as she stood back and ushered Janet through the door. Then she sniffed, “and I think you marked it too.”

Chapter 2

This was Janet’s second session with Mistress Karen. The first was the day she finally accepted who she was, and what she really wanted for herself. They had sat on Karen’s sofa, drinking tea while Janet had gone on for what seemed like hours. Feelings that she had not admitted to herself, much less anyone else, spilled out in a torrent. When she was done, she felt like a sodden towel that had been wrung dry of everything that was weighing it down.

This session was very different. Mistress Karen had taken her to the dungeon and put her through almost everything imaginable. Stress positions, beatings, sensory deprivation, erotic stimulation overload, things she didn’t think possible. Her mind cast back to the final moments of that day.

She had been hung upside down by her ankles, her legs spread wide as the chains pulled her until she thought she would split in two. She moaned into her gag, an uncomfortably large ball that was hard and unyielding beneath her teeth but effectively muffled the scream she let out as Mistress Karen struck her again.

The dominatrix was standing across the room, far enough away that Janet could see her fully through her tear-stained eyes. Surprisingly, Mistress Karen was naked but for her shiny black stiletto heels. Despite the pain, Janet couldn’t help but admire the body of the woman who tormented her so well.

Long, pale legs strode confidently over the cold concrete floor as she paced back and forth like a tiger assessing its prey. One hand rested on her shapely hip, elegant black lacquered nails drumming idly on the firm flesh in contemplation. Janet’s eyes roamed up over the smooth flat stomach to the still firm but slightly sagging breasts. Nothing fake there, she didn’t need it Janet thought. She was surprised at how the light glinted off of the nipple piercing, but it was a bar and not a ring. More of a statement of self control than a symbol of submission. Her hair was up in a tight bun, leaving her long graceful neck clear of any obstruction. Her lips were as black as her nails and dark purple eyeshadow made her green eyes look predatory as they assessed her next strike.

The lunge whip hissed through the air and caught Janet just below her left tit, leaving a small red welt where the tip had barely grazed her flesh. Janet yelped, her overall stimulation making the minor contact feel like the touch of a branding iron.

Mistress Karen grunted in annoyance and the whip reached out again. This time a perfect strike on Janet’s left breast. She howled in pain, then again as the whip kissed the same spot on her other tit. Back and forth Mistress Karen alternated, not moving anything but her wrist but delivering sting after sting in rapid succession.

Janet thrashed back and forth, trying to escape the bite of the leather that struck her again and again. Finally, she could take no more and raised two fingers of her left hand. The whip stopped short of its final strike and she opened her eyes to see Mistress Karen moving towards her, coiling it in her hand. A click of a winch and Janet was slowly lowered to the ground, the cool hard floor feeling like a balm on her burning body.

“That is enough for today, I have what I need.” Mistress Karen said as she released Janet’s gag and unhooked her ankle cuffs from the hoist. Janet groaned and worked her sore jaw, taking deep breaths to calm her raging heart.

“What was that all about?” She gasped, levering herself up on her arms, but not yet trusting her legs to support her.

“My dear, that was about how far you would go to impress me.” Karen replied, lapsing into the clinical tone she used when she was working with a patient.

“And how did I do?” Janet asked, pushing her hair out of her face.

“What does it matter?” Karen replied, crossing her arms and looking down at the woman who lay on her floor. The look wasn’t contempt, or even disappointment. Instead, it was almost eager.

Janet paused, then raised herself to her feet. She was shaky, but held herself up and gratefully accepted the bottle of water that Karen passed her. After taking a long drink, she wiped her mouth. “I guess it shouldn’t, is that the lesson?”

Karen nodded. “Your healing began when you realized and accepted who you were. Today I tried to teach you that what you want from yourself is more important than what others want from you. It should not matter how well I think you did, what matters is how well you think you did.”

Janet ran her hands over her stinging body, massaging her sore breasts and carefully avoiding touching her bruised ass. “I think I did pretty well, although I was surprised at how scared I was when you put the hood on me.”

Karen nodded “That’s not unusual. Sensory deprivation is something that many people cannot handle. They need to see what is coming, even if there is nothing they can do about it.” She looked at her phone, then handed Janet a robe. “Same time next week?”

“Darling, how would you like to go to a BDSM convention?”

Janet knelt on the floor, her head between Mistress Karen’s legs as the woman spoke on the phone. She was licking for all she was worth, but Karen apparently didn’t notice as she carried on her conversation.

Karen laughed in response to something she heard, completely ignoring the efforts of the woman on the floor in front of her. “Oh dear, I believe that is the first time I have heard you not in complete control of yourself. Delightful” Karen said with a satisfied tone.

“Oh, don’t be such a fussbudget, remember getting out of your comfort zone is good for you.” She chided. “Don’t worry, this is a very exclusive event, invitation only. I have been several times and enjoyed myself immensely”

Janet groaned in frustration, and discomfort. She had been on her knees on the hardwood floor for almost half an hour and her arms and shoulders were killing her in the restrictive tie Mistress Karen had put her in. She slid her tongue deep into her mistress’s pussy, nuzzling the clit with her nose as she strove to earn some reaction from the woman.

“Afraid not darling. Word of my makeover has spread and I am swamped with work.” Karen reached down to stroke Janet’s hair; the only acknowledgement of her presence she had made since the call began. “I have three clients booked for that weekend, but I think that you and sweet little Jennifer are ready to spread your wings. Enter a new world as it were, and be assured it is a very new world.”

Janet stiffened. Jennifer, was she talking to him? She tried to listen in but a sharp knock from Karen’s knuckle reminded her of her place and she resumed her duties.

“Wonderful” Karen said in a happy voice, again ignoring the frantic efforts of the woman crouched between her legs. “I am also sending a list of links to articles and videos you need to review before you go. No one want’s to be the Noob at one of these things, and you are going as my guests of course.”

Karen paused again as she listened, then continued the conversation but in a very different clinical voice. “It is slow, but she is making progress. She had had a very rough life and that has left some pretty deep scars on her psyche.”

Janet perked up again, they were talking about her.

“This is a big haystack we are going through to find those rusty needles, but every time we pull one out, she gets a little better.”

Another pause, then “Not for a while yet, I don’t think. I am sorry but the reward must match the progress, and seeing you two would be a big reward. I will tell her you asked about her, that will make her very happy.”

Again, Janet froze, seeing her daughter? Was she ready for that? Another sharp knuckle rap on her forehead and she shook her head, the unexpected twitch earning a startled gasp from Mistress Karen. She smiled to herself and resumed licking at the pussy in front of her.

“I knew I could count on you darling. Kisses to Jennifer, ta.” And she ended the call, setting down the phone and looking sternly at her patient/slave.

“It is very rude to listen in on someone’s conversation dear.” Karen said, then delivered a sharp slap on Janet’s exposed rump with the crop she held in her other hand. Janet winced in pain, then again as Mistress Karen struck the other cheek with an expertly aimed blow. She then slid the crop slowly down her body, edging it between her crotch and the face of the woman working there.