Chapter 2

We strolled along that stretch of Charles Street west of The Commons, passing other couples holding hands, packs of rowdy teens running and shouting, and a group of Chinese tourists, all wearing the same color tee-shirts. Even with all my experience in heels, I struggled to walk fast enough. She turned to me. "Keep up."

"Sorry, it's the shoes."

She shrugged. "Nobody forced you to wear five inch heels."

I squatted down and massaged my foot. She stepped to me and gripped my shoulder. "Come on. If you can't take a few aches and pains, it's gonna be a long night for you."

I stood and followed her along the dark sidewalk. "Yes mistress."

She stopped. "Not 'mistress'!"

"Uh – okay. What should I call you?"

"I told you. Call me 'Sara'. That's my name, and I hate all that phony roleplaying shit. Got it?"

"Sure."

Again, we walked on. After we passed Beacon Street and entered the old red-brick neighborhood, I asked, "So, anyway, what are you into?"

Quick as a cat, she turned, grabbed my throat, and shoved me against an iron fence in front of a recessed courtyard. She got real close, face to face.

"I'm into you." Her mouth was so close. Her eyes were so pretty in the soft light. "Kiss me." I kissed her, right there on the cold Boston street. "And let's take off that stupid collar." She reached behind my neck, undid the buckle, and removed it. Then she tossed it over the fence. When I turned and heard it settle into the bushes below, she reached around me, embracing me and pinning me to the fence. She squeezed my breasts. "I'll give you something much nicer than that, dear, a whole different kind of collar. Now, come along."

We began walking again.

"And keep up, or I'll strangle you and dump you in the river."

We climbed steep stairs to her apartment perched above an antique shop. When we arrived on the landing, she removed a set of keys from her purse and unlocked the door. Inside, the lights were on.

The apartment was elegant. Above us, there hung a lamp with a complex, twisting shape and clear, delicate bulbs. Their light shone over white walls and a hardwood floor. The walls were bare, except for a single piece of abstract art that hung along the hall. It was blue, mostly.

She set down her purse on a small glass table against the wall. On the table was a glass bowl full of mail. She took out the mail, sorted through it quickly, then tossed her keys into the same bowl. "Follow me," she said and headed down the hall.

As we neared the end, a figure emerged blocking our progress. A girl. A very pretty girl with black hair in ringlets, soft blue eyes over pallid cheeks, and rose colored lips forming a heart shaped mouth. She wore a little blue jumper dress that hung to her knees. Beneath that, a yellow tee. Her shoes were black and white saddle-stitch with flat heels. When we got close, she stepped forward and raised her chin to us. "Hi Sara!" she said with a gigantic smile. Then she posed with her hands gripped behind her back and her budding chest thrust out. She couldn't have been much over fourteen.

"Hello dear," Sara said. "This is my new friend Amber. Amber, this is Madeline, my niece."

"Hello Madeline," I said.

"Hi Amber." She stepped forward, near to me, her hands still behind her, pivoting and looking down in affected, but still delightful, reserve. Then she peered over to Sara with a fiendish grin. "Is Amber a dom or a sub?"

"A sub, dear."

"Aw." She looked up at me. She reached and touched. Touched! Her fingers passed lightly over my chest. "Too bad," she said. "I prefer doms."

"Uh – Madeline, how old are you?" I asked.

"Fifteen." Her pretend shyness had evaporated.

"Sweetie, that's too young."

A crime! Just being this close to her was a crime. I stepped back.

"Madeline, dear," her aunt said, "why don't you go to your room."

Madeline spun and faced her. "Aw! Why? She's a sub. Order her to play with me!"

"Not tonight, dear."

The girl stomped her foot.

"Madeline! Go! Now!"

Madeline faced her with a defiant look. They stared, the two of them. Then, gradually, the girl's eyes dropped. She stepped back. "Fine!" Her feet pounded back into the apartment. A door slammed.

Sara turned to me. "This is for tonight only. Any reservations you have, any inhibitions, I'll beat them out of you. Come along."

She walked deeper into the apartment. I followed.

The bedroom carpet was cream, the linens beige. The walls were bare, except again, there was one piece of abstract art, this time mostly green. Around the room there was a standard assortment of white furniture, a dresser, a bedside table, a small desk with a chair.

"Remove your shoes," she said.

I squatted, unclasped my shoes, and tossed them aside.

She motioned with her hand. "Get onto the bed."

I climbed onto the bed, sitting on my knees, and adjusted my skirt. She paced around me. As she passed to my side, I sat upright, facing forward.

"Remove your blouse."

"Wouldn't you like to do that?" I asked.

There was quiet, a long quiet. After a while, I turned to look over my shoulder. She stood with her hands resting on her hips.

"Remove your blouse."

I unbuttoned my blouse, parted the front, and slipped it from my shoulders. It dropped behind me on the bed.

"Nice bra," she said.

"Thank you." I still faced forward.

Soon, I felt her climb onto the mattress. She touched my shoulder and gently stroked.

"You're very beautiful," she said.

"Thank you." I turned to look at her, but she grabbed my chin and forced my head forward.

"Look ahead!"

"Yes, Sara."

She resumed her gentle petting. A flush passed over me, but I forced myself to relax. Soon, her hands worked their way to my front and, through my silky bra, stroked my breasts. "Your breasts are beautiful."

I bit my lip. My eyes closed.

Next came the first bit of pain, a hard pinch on my left nipple, then a sharp twist. I let out the slightest moan. Then more pinches, a few flicks. I squirmed, but only a bit.

"Mmm. That feels nice," I said.

It really did. It hurt, but still, a soft warmth spread over me. A hunger began to grow.

"Relax your arms and your shoulders," she said.

I let my arms hang limp. She removed my bra, letting my round breasts hang free. Then she grasped my elbows and pulled them behind my back. A sharp pain shot through my shoulders and chest.

"The trick is to get your elbows to touch," she said. "Relax a bit more."

I was relaxing all I could. She pulled harder, but they weren't near to touching. My tendons strained.

She released my arms and they dropped to my side. "I'll be back with some rope."

She left the room. I remained behind, still sitting on my knees. Soon, my legs and feet began to cramp. But I didn't move except to squirm and feel the fabric of my skirt shift over my skin.

Time passed and she didn't return. After a while, I reached up to my left nipple. Just as she had, I twisted and pinched, very hard, harder even than she, as hard as I could, until I grunted. I kept squeezing. Between my fingers, I felt my nipple swell.

Then I glanced and saw her standing in the doorway holding a length of rope.

"Enjoying yourself?"

I kept pinching. Then I pinched the other.

"Oh god, please hurry," I said.

She came to me and climbed onto the bed. Then she grasped my chin and kissed me hard on the mouth. "No. We're gonna take a very long time."

Then she got behind me, and again she pulled back my elbows, but this time she wrapped my forearms with rope, round and round. When she had them well wrapped, she pulled the rope tight.

Pain. Real pain. Through my shoulders and joints. No sissy little tweaks or pinches. I bit down hard and hissed. I grunted and squirmed. I couldn't take it. She pulled a bit more and I felt my elbows touch. Then I felt her tie off the rope and cinch up the knot.

"How's that?" she asked.

"Oh fuck it hurts." I gasped. Tears began to flow.

"Oh sweetie," she said, her voice sounding so far away, "we've hardly begun."

Then she shifted around in front of me. She caressed my face and brushed away a tear. "Aw, you pretty little thing, let's stop this crying."

I forced myself to stop, but my heart kept pounding. My breath came in sharp bursts.

"Now," she said, "you need to make a choice."

"Okay."

"Actually, you'll get to make exactly two choices tonight, and they're each very important. Are you ready for the first?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to be gagged?"

"Huh?"

"Myself, I prefer when the girl isn't gagged. I like to be able to hear her, for her to tell me what she feels, but still..." She arched her eyebrows. "There'll be a lot of pain, and if you scream or cry out, I'll kill you. So choose carefully. Would you like a gag?"

I didn't answer right away. She waited.

Could I stop myself from screaming?

She waited for a bit more. "Well, which will it be?"

By then, the pain in my shoulders had eased. My breathing was steady, my pulse had slowed. Plus, she was so beautiful.

"I don't want a gag."

A smile crossed her face, a pleasant smile. "Good. Very good. Okay, we'll start with your breasts. I find that the best way to warm up."

My eyes got wide. We hadn't yet warmed up?

She went to the dresser, opened a drawer, and removed a narrow black crop maybe twenty inches long. She returned to the bed. "Okay, sweetie, stick out your chest. And don't flinch. You don't wanna know what happens if you flinch. Ready?"

I sat upright pressing out my chest. She reached with the crop and pressed its end against a nipple. "Ready?"

"Yes."

She began with tiny swings, little impacts, mere flicks of her wrist. It stung, but I felt the warmth come. I squirmed and pressed out my chest more.

"That feels nice," I said.

She kept up the tiny smacks, but I sensed the impact increasing. Soon, she was using less wrist and more arm, her elbows then her shoulders, back and forth, forehand and backhand. The hits became serious. They made loud smacks. I began huffing and grunting. Then I groaned. Soon, just when I thought I could take no more, she stopped.