Chapter 5: Initiation

The door opened. Alexandra looked down on the housewife with amusement and disdain.

"You're late! You'll be disciplined!"

"I'm sorry. I ... I'm not sure what I'm doing here. I..."

"Do you remember what I told you?"

"You ... you aren't serious."

"You're going to find out. Now let me hear it."

Catherine thought of turning and leaving, yet something, something this woman said, did, the way she looked -- what was it that drew Catherine to her, made her want to be near, to be played with? Her heart was already pounding.

" ... Please, Alexandra."

"Please what?"

" ... Please let me in."

"And?"

"And ... fuck me. Please fuck me," came the timid request.

Alexandra grabbed her by the hair and pulled Catherine's lips to her own.

"Sweet. See that you always taste sweet for me. Now come in," was the curt command. "Take off the coat."

Catherine wore a full length raincoat. Still not sure she even wanted to be here, she felt her hands unbuckle the belt and the coat slide to the floor. She wore nothing underneath except black stockings and matching spike heels. Alexandra inspected her nude body. "Have you been tanning?"

"uh ... yes. Twice," came the weak reply.

"Turn around. let me see." Catherine obeyed silently. "Hmmmm, the tanning lines are almost gone. You will continue. I want that body beautifully bronzed"

"Yes, Alexan ... I mean Mistress."

"Are you fresh?"

"Yes, I bathed and douched just before coming here."

"Perfume?"

"Behind my ears and neck and a touch in my nest hair."

"Good. You will ALWAYS freshen yourself before you present yourself to me. Understood?"

"Yes ... Mistress."

"You were three minutes late. You shall be punished for that. Come with me, I shall show you where the implements are kept."

Catherine followed her mistress into another room, a bedroom but one in which also stood an oversized wardrobe. Opening the doors Alexandra stood back so Catherine could see the vast array of tools of discipline and torture. There were whips, chains, ropes, straps, clamps and pinchers of varying sizes and shapes as well as dildoes, manual and motorized, and various and sundry other devices at which Catherine could only guess their use.

"I shall eventually use all of these on that beautiful little body of yours, but tonight I think we shall initiate you with the whip," said the hermaphrodite indicating a black handled whip with at least a dozen leather flails on its end.

Catherine's eyes widened in fear. "No, I don't think I want to..." but she never finished the sentence for Alexandra once again pulled the housewife to her and kissed her long and deep drinking from the woman whose arms started up in protest but then fell limply to her sides as she surrendered her mouth to the strong, vibrant invasive tongue.

Instantly Catherine was putty in the other woman's arms. She could offer no resistance and as she was drawn tighter against the other's body she no longer wanted to resist.

"You've been bad Catherine," whispered Alexandra.

" ... Yes ... bad," she repeated as if in a trance.

"You must be punished."

" ... Yes ... punished."

"Get the whip and bring it to me in the other room."

" ... Yes, Mistress," came the soft subservient answer. Catherine slowly took the whip from the cabinet and returned to the living room. Alexandra was seated, a drink in her hand. She held out her hand and Catherine placed the whip in her palm.

"Those manacles on the wall are for you, Catherine."

Fearful yet shivering with sensual expectation, she walked to them, noting how high they were placed, so high she had to tiptoe to get her right wrist in the first one and close it. She could just get her other wrist into the second but there was no way to secure it. It was just then that she felt Alexandra's strong hand close and lock the manacle.

Facing the wall, Catherine was tingling with both fear and a, somehow, eager anticipation. Already the calves of her legs were feeling the strain as even with heels she was on tiptoe.

What a reversal. She had actually thought as she stood outside Alexandra's door that she would tell the woman she intended to go home to her husband and marriage, but when the door had opened and she saw the beautiful, strong, and comanding woman, her determination evaporated and her resolve deserted her. She had known in that moment that she could never say no to this woman, that the excitement, the sexuality of Alexandra, was simply irresistible.

"Tonight you shall be initiated in the ways of the whip," said the lovely dominatrix. "You shall feel the exquisite sting of the leather and the burn of skin. You shall beg me to stop, but I will not, for I intend to destroy every last vestige of resistance in you. I will obliterate your self respect. I will replace your will with my own. And before the evening is out you will be begging me to defile you."

"No, please..."

"Ha, already you beg and you haven't even tasted the whip a single time."

"Mistress, I can't take pain. I just can't."

"Oh, you'll take the pain all right, physical and mental. By the time I fuck you, I will OWN you, you and that tight little cunt of yours!"

"Please don't! Don't hurt me!" cried Catherine. The other night had been painful but sexual as well. Now her mistress intended simply to punish her with pain, to destroy Catherine the housewife and replace her with Catherine the bitch, a dog to be disciplined and trained to obey unconditionally.

Alexandra grabbed her by the hair and kissed her forcefully, then flung her away as she stepped back and untied the floor length robe she wore. The silk slithered to the floor revealing a statuesque dominatrix dressed in patent black leather knee high boots, matching stockings, panties and garter belt below while a black leather bra, revealing ample cleavage completed the ensemble.

"Please! PLEASE!" pleaded the housewife.

"Shut up, you sniveling little bitch! Every time you whine or cry out I will add ten more strokes."

Catherine faced the wall so she could not see her tormentor or know when the lash was coming. The flails were not rawhide but a softer processed leather which did not cut the skin, but they did produce a series of stinging lashes which could wear down even the strongest woman. The fist lash was across Catherine's back. She was totally unprepared for the pain and gasped but did not actually cry out.

Alexandra smiled. The first lash had deliberately been weak, yet the woman's body had reacted as if it had been a powerful blow from a metal tipped cat-o-nine-tails.

"This one will be across your buttocks. Better not make a sound!"

The lash was stronger than the first and tears squeezed from Catherine's eyes and she was barely able to stifle a yelp.

In rapid succession three more lashes tasted her flesh, backs of thighs, buttocks and back. Catherine was trying her best to remain silent but the pain of each lash was intensifying as Alexandra was beginning to establish her stride and along with that came stronger and stronger blows.

Lashes began to fall where lashes had already landed, intensifying the pain of the terrified woman. Catherine tried thinking of something, anything to distract her from the next punishing onslaught.

Sweat began to appear on Alexandra's brow as she snapped the whip again and again and again. Determined to break the young woman, she sought out every sensitive part of Catherine's naked backside and when the woman began an inadvertent whining, she spun the housewife around, secured her ankles to the floor and began with a half dozen stokes across those perfectly shaped breasts to which Catherine cried out in anguish.

"So, you want more, do you?"

With that the whip rained across Catherine's legs and tummy and when she could no longer stand the pain and began screaming, Alexandra punished her further with several lashes across her nest.

Catherine was having trouble standing now, her mind and body beginning to fail her.

And still the punishment continued, lash after lash bringing shrieks and sobs from the attractive blonde.

At last Catherine collapsed, her limp body dangling from the manacles.

Another half dozen lashes from the dominatrix to be sure Catherine wasn't faking and she discarded the whip, walked over to the all but unconscious woman, grabbed her by the hair and again kissed her.