Chapter 8

I sat comfortably in an overstuffed armchair, swirling the scotch around in my glass and let my eyes run over Mistress Karen who reclined on the divan across from me. She noticed my appreciative gaze and smiled over her wine glass, twisting her shoulders and hips to display herself to full advantage. Gone was the too tight corset and over the top thigh high boots. Instead, she wore a well fitted black bustier and slacks. Platform stiletto heels of course, but in elegant booties that could transition from the dungeon to the dance floor. Her hair was still streaked with grey, but gone was the cheap black hair dye and instead she had a natural luster to her maturity that suited her much better. She could have put on a jacket and commanded any corporate boardroom in the country.

“Like what you see?” she purred.

“Appreciate would be a better word I think.” I replied, and she nodded sagely.

“It seems that you are in the habit of getting women to re-invent themselves.” She commented, sliding her black manicured fingers along her ample bust line. “You were right, I was trying too hard to re-capture my youth when instead I should be enjoying my maturity. Thank you for your insight.”

“I didn’t do anything. I just said that as elegant a woman as yourself should not be forcing herself into anything, clothing or roles.” I replied, sipping my scotch.

“Thank you” she replied, then rose from her seat and setting her wine glass down on the coffee table. “Shall we go and see how our little project is doing? I think that I am not the only person here who is deluding themselves about who they really are.” I downed the last of my drink and rose to follow her down the stairs. The harsh light from the bare bulbs was a stark change from the warmth and comfort of the room above. It shone with cruel indifference over the two women who were bound in the room, moaning and sweating with their exertions over the last hour.

Jennifer and Janet were both naked, no lingerie or sexy shoes this time. Just the stark reality of their slavery on display for us to see. Jennifer was lying on a padded bench, her wrists and ankles secured together with thick leather cuffs. Her elbows had also been pulled together behind her and her ankle cuffs were attached to them with a short chain pulling her up into a tight hogtie. A ring gag filled her mouth and drool was running unchecked down her chin to puddle on the concrete below her. She moaned in a combination of pleasure and pain as the vibrating wand strapped between her legs continued its relentless assault on her pussy. As we entered the room, she turned her head and her glazed eyes slowly focused on Karen and I as we stood there regarding her with indifference. Karen moved over to a rack and picked up a brown leather riding crop. When Jennifer saw this her expression turned from pleasure to fear and she looked frantically at me.

“Don’t worry little one.” Mistress Karen said in a calming voice, the way you would speak to a startled horse. She moved over to where Jennifer lay and gently flicked a sweat soaked lock of hair out of her face. “Your master and I have spoken and I understand you now. I will not hurt you again, unless he condones it.” Jennifer looked at me and I nodded, watching her slump in relief. “Still” Karen continued, “pain and pleasure are two sides of the same coin. One can be used to enhance the feeling of the other as well as re-enforce the commitment and trust between a master and their slave.” She moved to where Jennifer could see her, shifting her weight onto one leg and pushing her hip out in the classic dominatrix pose that just looked natural on her. She crossed her arms, the crop swinging loosely from her hand as she regarded Jennifer with a level gaze.

“You are a good slave dear. You have given yourself to your master and as I understand gone through quite a period of change and personal growth as a result, am I right?” Jennifer nodded, a little drool falling out of her mouth to drop on the floor with a soft splat. “Yes, you didn’t know who you truly were until you met him” she gestured to where I leaned against the doorframe. “And when you finally agreed to allow yourself to grow beyond the boundaries you had set for yourself, your life became much better did it not?” Jennifer nodded again, looking at me with loving eyes.

Mistress Karen moved closer and crouched so she was eye to eye with where Jennifer lay on the bench. Her pants stretched attractively over her ass that had grown significantly firmer since we last met. “But this is a relationship is it not. In a relationship both people must grow and change together or else it becomes stagnant and, to put it simply, boring.” Karen glanced over her shoulder at me. “You may not have noticed it, but your master is still the same man that he was when you first came here. Probably the same man as he was when he first met you. There is nothing wrong with that, he is a fine man, but he has not grown as a Dom as you have grown as a Slave.”

Karen stood and moved over to me, running her manicured fingers across my shoulder. “He is a good man, but has his own boundaries just as you had yours. While he helped you move outside those limits that you had made for yourself, who will help him?” I looked at Karen with a quizzical glance, what boundaries, what was I doing wrong. Damn, things looked pretty much perfect to me.

“Take this for example” she raised the riding crop, running a critical eye over the braided leather. “This is the tool of a Dom. It is used to teach a lesson and correct an errant slave quickly. How long did it take for him to teach you your last lesson? A week, two? How close did you come to losing it all because he did not have the proper tools, or will to use them?” I considered her words for a moment, and she was right. When Janet and Jennifer had last failed me, I had kicked them both out and left them alone for over a week. The equivalent to sending a child to their room. But just like that, I had no control over what they were doing in that week, and could have lost everything if they had not been willing to come back. Corporal punishment was something that I never liked, but apparently it did have its merits.

Mistress Karen continued “Pain is not just for punishment. It can be used to enhance the experience for both slave and dom. The pain brings an instant stimulation that pleasure cannot. In fact, pleasure can be just as uncomfortable as pain if not used properly.” She had walked behind Jennifer and reached down to push the vibrating wand harder against her sensitive pussy. Jennifer arched and grunted, trying to pull herself away from the stimulation that she had been helpless to resist since we bound her here over an hour ago. “See, pleasure has become pain, has it not. And removal of that ‘pleasure’ can be just as desirable.” Karen switched off the wand and Jennifer moaned in relief.

“Now, your master is a very adept man at administering pleasure, or so I assume. You have come back to him seeking what he provides you for months now.” Karen had moved back in front of Jennifer and gestured over to where I stood. “But that is only half of what a Dom needs to be able to do. He is wary of using pain, because he is afraid. Afraid to hurt you, afraid to damage the trust you have placed in him, and afraid that he may enjoy it.” She wasn’t wrong there. She crouched down again, eye to eye with Jennifer. “Are you willing to help your Master become a better man? Are you willing to let him learn about himself just as he has taught you things you did not know about yourself?” Jennifer looked at me.

“This is your choice, Jennifer; it always has been. I am very happy with what we have and do not want to do anything to risk damaging it or you.”

Jennifer looked back at Karen and clearly nodded her head yes.

“Good girl” Karen said in a soothing tone and reached up to caress her cheek. Then she rose, picked up a matching black crop and handed it to me. “School is in session; your first lesson begins now.” Karen strode over to where Jennifer lay restrained on the padded bench, tapping the crop against her leg. “The body has several different places where pain can be best administered. You are probably familiar with most of them already.” She brought the crop down swiftly and with a sharp smack, and a heart shaped red welt appeared on Jennifer’s left ass cheek. Jennifer squealed in surprise and her breathing quickened through her gag spraying saliva out of her mouth. “The buttocks are obvious, fleshy enough to absorb the damage and sensitive enough to make the pain effective.” Karen swung the crop again this time striking the sole of Jennifer’s foot, eliciting another squeal. “The bottom of the foot on the other hand is often overlooked. It is just as sensitive if not more, and if used properly can leave a lasting impression on the slave for hours after the lesson is completed.” Karen struck again, this time with the shaft of the crop against Jennifer’s exposed shin. “The bony parts of the body can also be used but you must be careful. Without the fatty tissue to absorb the impact it is easy to cut through the skin and draw blood, unless that is your intent.”

Karen reached down and unclipped the hook that held Jennifer in her hogtie, and she groaned in relief as she stretched her legs. “See, even the bondage itself can lead to pain if you are not aware of what you are doing, but it can also be an effective form of pleasure once the tension is released.” Karen unhooked the ankle cuffs from each other, then crouched down to secure Jennifer’s legs to the rings at the base of the bench. “Up dear” she said, putting the crop under Jennifer’s chin and levering her up into a standing position, straddling the bench. “The crop is also a useful tool to guide the slave while keeping distance, allowing the Dom to maintain their dignity while still exerting control.” Mistress Karen stepped back, holding the crop out at arm’s length while still keeping it tucked under Jennifer’s chin. She angled it higher making Jennifer crane her face toward the ceiling, while still remaining back far enough that she could now run her gaze over Jennifer’s entire body with a simple glance. Damn but that looked sexy.

A swift flick of the wrist, a sharp crack and the same heart shaped mark appeared on the side of Jennifer’s left tit. Jennifer hadn’t even had time to lower her chin so instead of flinching back ended up pushing her chest forward where Karen came back with another stroke on the other tit. Another flick and Karen had the crop back underneath Jennifer’s chin who just now responded with a grunt of pain, to which strike I am not sure. “Posture, child” Mistress Karen chastised, “Posture and poise, always. Being a slave is no excuse to stop being a lady.” Damn, that was the most erotic display of power and control I had ever seen, but she may as well have been correcting a waiter on her drink order.

Karen stepped to the side “Your turn.”

I stepped forward, my stomach twisting in a manner that I hadn’t felt since my first high school dance. I guess this is what it feels like to step out of your comfort zone. I looked at Jennifer who was breathing hard, sweat plastering her golden hair to her head and chest. “Is this what you want?” I asked. She took a second, then nodded, raising her chin and pushing her chest out toward me. “I think I will start somewhere a little more my speed.” And swung the crop to strike her on the other ass cheek. The mark I left was nowhere as neat as Mistress Karen’s. Jennifer squealed through her gag and I saw angry red welt appear instead of a smooth even blemish.

“You flinched, and closed your eyes.” Mistress Karen said with a mildly disappointed tone like she was criticizing my golf swing, which in my defence wasn’t that good either. “If you are truly a worthy Dom, then respect your slave enough to look at her while you administer the beating.”

I took a deep breath and swung again, this time leaving a much neater mark right where I was aiming.

“Better, but you must practice. Each swing must be deliberate and made with the intention of imposing the Dom’s will on the slave. We do not flail about wildly, that is the method of amateurs, and people who lose control in their passion.” She glanced at the cat o nine tails hanging on the wall. “Again” she commanded. For several minutes the sound of leather smacking flesh echoed off the bare concrete walls. Red marks appeared over Jennifer’s ass, thighs, stomach and finally her tits. She was groaning in a long continuous moan, her breath coming heavy through her nose and mouth.

“Enough” Mistress Karen said, and I stepped back. I was in pretty good shape but my arm was already getting sore and sweat had appeared on my forehead. Guess it was time to give up rugby and take up tennis. Mistress Karen moved over to a small drinks cabinet in the corner and picked an ice cube out of the bucket. “Now that the slave has been aroused with pain, it is time to shift to pleasure so to take advantage of the moment.” She handed the ice cube to me and I slid it across Jennifer’s sweaty body, pausing wherever a red mark showed the results of my efforts. She moaned in relief at the cooling sensation, then in pleasure as I leaned forward and licked the salty drops as they ran down her body. I moved in front of her, ice cube melting in my hand and slid it through the ring gag onto her tongue. She moaned again and tipped her head back so she could quench her thirst as the water dribbled down her throat. She kept her eyes on me and I saw the passion and arousal that usually came after hours of teasing. I reached down between her legs and felt how wet she was, sliding my finger between her pussy lips and over her engorged clit. She shuddered and groaned as she ground herself against my questing fingers.