Chapter 10: Unexpected Advice

Over the next few weeks, Adam, Sarah and I settle into a routine. Sarah’s business goes from strength to strength and she’ll need to look at employing someone to help her before long. Even though she is very submissive at home, she runs her business with a strong no-nonsense hand. While I help her with some of the paperwork, I don’t otherwise interfere with her business.

Sarah and I check out the building on Water Street which might be a suitable alternative location for her business. Her business has now outgrown her garage and three spare bedrooms. Sarah decides that the building suits her needs. Since my Uncle Steven and dad own the building, I’m able to negotiate a lease on terms favourable to Sarah. We set up a company, J&SS Clothing. It is owned by Sarah’s trust since it is the trust money which we are using for capital. The J&SS stands for Jennifer and Slave Sarah, but we don’t broadcast that fact. However Sarah adds a ‘Slave Sarah’ tag to any of the bondage gear she is commissioned to make.

My new routine runs better than I expected. I manage to keep on top of my university assignments as well as fit in ample time for my university friends and Sarah. On the fourth Saturday since I became Sarah’s dom, I instruct her to join me on my morning run. A few years ago she would have jogged fifty metres and then need to stop for a long breather. Now she can at least keep up with me for the first half of our run. I don’t forget my contracted responsibility to care for her well-being, although in reality she is more than capable of doing that for herself. I find myself growing to like my control over Sarah, and she responds well when I exercise my authority over her.

Inevitably a situation arises when I must punish Sarah more seriously than having her stand in a corner of the room, or giving her a light spanking. We carry out our greeting ritual on Wednesday evening as usual. I sense that Sarah has something to confess which she knows may warrant a serious punishment. To make matters worse, her confession includes two different events, both of which leave me with a difficult decision.

“Adam and I had sex last Saturday night,” confesses Sarah.

Although I don’t admit it to Sarah, I’m slightly relieved they have broken my impulsive ‘no sex’ rule. I have been worried that Sarah’s time working as a prostitute has put her off having a normal sexual relationship. But it seems that she and Adam are getting on well together.

“You will need to give me some more details so that I can determine the appropriate punishment,” I reply, trying to avoid appearing like a voyeur.

“Um ... I undid the zip on his leather briefs and gave him a hand job,” replies Sarah.

It’s not as serious an infringement as I initially thought. Had it occurred a week or two earlier I would have treated it as nothing more serious than deserving a light spanking in punishment. But I’m now more attuned to Sarah’s needs from me in my role as her Domina. I might regard her infringement as minor, but she expects me to treat it as a much more serious crime. She deliberately broke my ‘no sex’ rule knowing that a punishment will follow, and that thought drove her to enjoy her act of disobedience all the more. If I don’t punish her appropriately, then she’ll be disappointed in me, and I will feel as though I’ve let her down.

“I’ll tell you your punishment when you have finished your confessions,” I reply, playing for time while I think of a suitable penalty. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes, Domina,” replies Sarah. “I had my nipples pierced so that the rings you gave me can be more securely attached. I did so without asking your permission first. I forgot that my body belongs to you and isn’t my own any more.”

“Show me,” I command, more annoyed that Sarah has done this than her confession about her sexual act with Adam. I also doubt that she ‘forgot’ that she signed her body over to me.

She lifts her top to reveal her breasts. I can see small ‘D’ shaped rings on her nipples. They are held in place by tiny fasteners either end of the horizontal bar piercing each nipple. I can’t deny that she looks extremely sexy. I’ve never previously had any inclination to have a sex with a girl, but these last few weeks have made me re-evaluate my feelings on the subject. I do something I would never have dared to do a month ago. I touch Sarah’s breasts and examine the rings. Sarah’s gasp ... I don’t know whether from pleasure or pain ... gives me a powerful erotic thrill. I remember from when I had my ears pierced that it takes a couple of weeks for the wound to heal, so I don’t linger with my hand.

“Very nice, Sarah,” I respond once I feel suitably in control of my emotions. “But as you said, your body belongs to me and I did not give you permission to have your nipples pierced. Do you have any further confessions to make tonight?”

“No, Domina. That’s all. I’m sorry that I have been so disobedient. Please punish me.”

“Very well, Sarah,” I say. “For having your nipples pierced you will wear leg shackles for a few hours. For performing such a disgusting act with Adam, you will eat like an animal from a bowl on the floor at the next three meals which you eat in my presence. Now fetch the leg shackles you have in your treasure box in your room, and then you can prepare our meal.”

I know Sarah has a collection of chains, locks, and miscellaneous bondage equipment in her room. I don’t know how often Pete made use of them, but I suspect Sarah uses them regularly when she is alone. However, operating her business from her new premises means she now has less opportunity to play with them. Nevertheless, I think I need to examine what she has in her treasure box and confiscate anything she might try to use without my permission.

Sarah returns a few moments later with the shackles. They are like large handcuffs with a linking chain about forty centimetres long. She also brings one of the boxes with a time lock on the lid. I lock the shackles onto her ankles and test that they aren’t too tight.

“Thank you, Domina,” she says. “How long am I to wear the shackles?”

“Do you have any dice? If so, go and fetch two dice.”

Sarah promptly shuffles off to fetch two dice from one of the upstairs rooms. The chain restricts her movement but it is long enough for her to safely navigate the stairs. She returns looking slightly puzzled by my command.

“Throw the dice. Whatever you throw will be the number of hours on the timer.”

Sarah’s smile tells me that she’s excited by this twist to her punishment. She rolls a five and a three, so I set the timer for eight hours. She goes into the kitchen to prepare our evening meal. Since she has been working all day at her new premises, she hasn’t had any time to prepare our meal in advance. We talk while she prepares the food. I know better than to offer to help her.

It might seem strange that we can hold a normal conversation while we are dressed as we are, but by now we are comfortable with our respective roles. It takes Sarah just over thirty minutes to prepare and cook our fish and vegetable meal. She sets the table for one person and finds a bowl for her own food. She waits until I’m sat at the table before serving us both. At my signal, Sarah picks up her bowl and places it on the floor near my feet. She goes down on her hands and knees and commences to eat like a dog. She hasn’t made one word of complaint about her punishment.

I soon realise a small problem with having Sarah eat on the floor. Her long hair keeps falling forward and is in danger of ending up in her food. Not only does it spoil my view of her eating like this, but it is messy and unhygienic.

“Stand up and fix your hair so it doesn’t fall into your food,” I say.

Sarah does as she is told and quickly binds her hair into a bun at the back of her head. I finish my meal several minutes before Sarah can lick her bowl clean. She’s slopped some of her food onto the floor, and she will no doubt expect to be punished for making a mess. It means that I’ll have to think of a suitable punishment.

“Clean the mess off the floor,” I snap, pretending great anger. “Leave the washing up for now. We will go upstairs and look through your treasure trove of toys.”

Sarah does as she is told and we go upstairs to her bedroom. Even though Pete has moved out of the master bedroom, Sarah still sleeps in the same room she has done since she was a child. The room is a bit small for all the furniture and personal belongings crammed in here, but so far I’ve not interfered in what I regard as her private space. Sarah fetches the suitcase crammed with her various sex toys and the other bits and pieces that she hoards. She puts it on her bed and opens the lid. I soon realise that we will need more space to examine everything inside the case.