Chapter 21

Zoe

I immensely enjoyed being able to use my arm freely and almost couldn't stop flexing it. I even washed my hair twice in the shower, just because it felt good to massage my head with two hands. However, it wasn't long before I realized that my newly reacquired freedom of movement could be taken away by Mistress at any given time. Well, maybe not any given time. I mean, I knew Mistress wouldn't send me off to work with my wrists and elbows cuffed behind my back. But as long as I was with her, here, at home, she could tie me up and constrain me whenever and however she wanted. And boy, did that realization send a jolt of pleasure between my legs! It remained there, the pleasure, made my pussy tingle and buzz like a beehive and then the pleasure reached my eyes and told her 'yes, yes, yes and yes again!' as she held my wrists behind my back.

After that, it was pure lust and passion and I remember only parts of it. I'm not very experienced when it comes to sex, but even I know that when you've spent a night (or at least large part of it) having sex, and you remember barely half of it, it must have been good. I do remember that Mistress whispered into my ear for some time, describing things she'd do to me, but I can't remember most of them, only that I immediately liked many of the things she whispered about and that I liked some of them less and maybe there was one or two I can't see myself doing. But, then again, if someone would have told me a few weeks ago that I'd get all excited and aroused at the thought of being tied, I'd have had a hard time not to laugh at that person in their face.

Also, if that same person would have said that two women can fuck each other, I'd definitely have thought they're nuts. Well, maybe not. Maybe I'd have thought they're right and I just didn't know about it. But I do now. It's what we did when I just couldn't hold back anymore with all those things she'd whispered in my ear. Mistress fucked me and she fucked herself, using me, and I fucked her and myself on her. And when we were done fucking, I spent a long time between her legs, tongue, lips, teeth, hands and fingers all busy pleasing her. Even my hair was busy when Mistress didn't hold it in a tight grip.

But as good and satisfying and exhausting as the sex had been, nothing could beat Mistress's last words which reached me when I was already drifting off into the land of dreams.

Blonde hair, blue eyes and the smell of coffee greeted me when I woke up the next morning. But what definitely roused me was the soft touch of her lips on mine, plus her words reminding me that today was my special day. Except, with Mistress, every day was special.

A quick trip to the bathroom and a shower later, I joined her at the breakfast table. For a minute I just sat there, my legs pulled up and cradling my mug, looking at Mistress, losing myself in the sight of her.

"You need to eat, love," she said at last. But I hardly could. I was beginning to get rather nervous. I knew it was silly. After all, she was my Mistress, she wouldn't ever allow that something happened to me. But I kept picturing all kinds of situations, and I was worried that I'd be bad at modeling and she couldn't use the pics, after all the preparations she had put into the photo shoot.

It didn't go unnoticed, of course. "Come to me, Zoe." I went to sit on her lap and she told me that I shouldn't worry and that everything would be fine and if she was sure I'd be the perfect model then I'd better not doubt her. To put it in a nutshell, she soothed me like a little girl. It worked, too.

I still wasn't hungry, but at least much less nervous when I sat down on my chair again. Ann got up and stood beside me, her hand in my hair.

"I've laid out clothes for you in your room. Put them on. You will be picked up soon." Then she bent my head back and kissed me until I was all damp again. "I'll see you later, slave. I love you!"

"I love you too, Mistress."

I cleared the table and then hurried to get dressed. The clothes she'd laid out were different to anything I had ever worn. Different to what I had expected, too. I looked at myself in the mirror when I was finished. Nice, but not really my style. Which was probably just as well, since my personal style was mostly jeans and hoodies and trainers, and I don't think that would have looked good in a kinky photo shoot. But, then again, I had the feeling that the white pleated skirt, the white blouse and the wedge-heeled sandals would come off before the photo session was over.

To take my mind off the photo shoot I fired up the Mac and started to work; when the doorbell rang, I was completely lost.

Mistress Veronica smiled down at me when I opened the door. "Hello, Zoe. I assume you're ready?"

"Hello. Yes, Mistress Veronica, I'm ready," I answered and stepped outside. It was cold and the damp cold air immediately crept up beneath my skirt. Mistress hadn't said anything about a coat and I figured I wouldn't be outside for long, so I followed Mistress Veronica to her car. "Is that OK, to call you Mistress Veronica?" I asked.

"I don't expect anyone to call me Mistress except my slave," she replied. "Ma'am is fine."

"Yes, Mi ... Ma'am."

She stopped at the hood of the car and took off her coat while I walked around to the other side. I heard her chuckle just when I opened the door.

"Nervous or distracted?"

"I beg your pardon?" Only then did I realize that I had opened the driver's door. I blushed and grinned. "Umm ... I wish I could say I only wanted to hold the door for you, ma'am. But I know Mistress would be very displeased if I lied to you."

"You got that spot on. Thank you, anyway," she said and got in the car. "Now, get in, girl, we mustn't be late."

Ann

Walking to the studio always gives me time to focus on work, especially on a shoot day. To get the quality of image I'm known for, I need that sharp focus, no distractions. Multitasking is the perfect way to screw up several things at once, not acceptable. That morning, getting my focus was harder than normal: this time, my girl would not just be in my heart, but in my viewfinder.

Dee had already opened up and the aroma of fresh coffee was percolating down the corridor as I walked past the kitchen and through the heavy double doors into the studio, or rather the Dungeon; yes, definitely, the Dungeon.

"Yes, yes, no and yes!!" Dee's greeting was delivered with a grin, check-list in hand as she readied the last of the props.

"And good morning to you, too!!" I couldn't help joining her in a conspiratorial grin; today would be special for both of us, for different reasons. "Where's your pixie?"

"In the dressing room with the other check-list and that flea-bitten moggy."

I almost laughed, but that just encourages her. Exactly how the sleek lithe Kat could be seen as a scabby alley cat I had no idea, but doubtless, if she ever annoyed Dee, I'd get to see the sketch.

My first task of the day was to turn on the video camera, the source of my annoyance. Those who appreciate my work know that it is totally authentic, no special effects, no photoshopping. The client knew that full well, yet had still insisted on a video camera to record the shoot, a requirement that almost had me refusing the commission and telling them to go to Hell. Instead, I had agreed, subject to certain conditions. The camera was fixed high up, angled to cover the entire Dungeon area. Yellow duct tape on the floor marked its coverage and a big screen monitor showed what was being recorded, the picture distorted by the filter I had placed over the camera's lens. Every movement would be clearly recorded, but the fine detail, most especially the faces, would be utterly unrecognisable. Nothing and nobody will ever make me risk my models, their safety, or their anonymity, though some of the girls are happy to have their faces and identity known; many, especially the students, need to remain anonymous.

Because of the nature of the shoot, and especially because of Zoe, I had chosen those invited to participate carefully, not only because strangers would affect how Zoe reacted, but for what I had planned afterwards...

Next the cameras: I typically use several, often one hand held and two more mounted on tripods, all digital and able to be fired remotely or in sync. It is the only way to capture live action from different angles while working alone. Especially important today, as I would be part of the action.

When I first started, it was hard to get models willing to suffer for art. Many who would were poor subjects, not for their looks but for their attitude. Finding suitable Dommes was even worse, not to mention beyond my budget. So, I was forced to be both photographer and Domme. Now, I have Dee; her artistic eye and my training have allowed me to depend upon her to assist in some of the more challenging shoots, those where I need to be involved in the action.

Cameras ready, I headed for the changing rooms to get into my gear, meeting Bella and Kat, who were just finishing their preparations.

"Good morning, Ma'am." They chorused, Bella already into her role whilst for Kat it was natural to address me so.

I smiled. Bella's outfit was identical to the one I had laid out for Zoe. "Good enough to eat, and good morning to you," Bella grinned impishly, twirling to force her short pleated skirt to lift, exposing her eager sex, Kat purring as I caressed her head, her body brushing against me, her feline grace so natural. It was unusual to see Kat dressed as she was, though her black 'jump-suit' moulded to her lithe frame, black trainers completing her outfit; today, she was our 'gofer'.

Bella scurried off to report to Dee, checklist in hand, but Kat remained. "May I assist you, Ma'am? Mistress has instructed me to tell you that, today, I am yours to command." Her eyes twinkled, her voice purred, "and that I am to do everything to assist you." It was hard to tell if her smile was that of a cat with the first helping of cream, or one anticipating a second helping; either way, she looked ever so cute.

"Excellent, cum with me..." Two can play at that game and I can stress certain words just as emphatically.

Stripping off my street clothes, I was soon naked and ready to slide into my costume, though slide is not quite the right word, but it's close; the leather is custom-made to fit perfectly, which means it takes time to put on, though Kat's assistance made it much quicker, and rather more pleasant.

Once dressed and ready, I strode out into the Dungeon, Kat prowling by my side. "We are ready, O Evil One." Dee grinning, Bella at her side, eyes glazing with anticipation.

"Enough, strumpet... !!" I walked over to Dee, smiling, "and thank you, for everything." I turned to bestow a quick and wicked snarl upon Bella, "Kitchen, now! You've time for coffee before our star arrives, and someone had better have the kettle on..."

As I turned to head for the kitchen, Kat sprang ahead of me, racing to prepare my EG, whilst Dee grinned and started misquoting an old Righteous Brothers song, "You've bossed that lovin' feline..."

Soon, I was sipping EG and thinking of my girl. I had discussed the day with Roni, who had agreed to collect my girl and bring her to the studio. I smiled as I pictured Zoe opening the door to find Mistress Veronica. I knew Zoe was nervous; that was part of the reason I wanted her for this particular shoot: she would not need to act, just be herself, because — for the shoot — I needed her nervous, unsure; it suited the theme perfectly.

To help Zoe, I knew Roni would instruct her to simply be herself, hide nothing, not to try to act; for my part, I had arranged for there to be no delay. When my girl arrived, we would start; no time for her to get comfortable or more anxious.

Glancing at the kitchen clock, I emptied my mug and thanked Kat, who purred happily. I announced, "Time to get started. Bella, let's get you ready." I swear, that girl really is a nymphomaniac!! No sooner had I spoken, than she was already out the door, almost bouncing down the corridor. I followed at a more sedate pace, heels clicking as I strode to the Dungeon, Kat trailing after me whilst Dee headed to the gallery to await Roni and my girl.

When I first bought the studio, it was an empty shell, part garage, part mini warehouse. I had put a lot of time and thought, not to mention money, into the design, driving the builders crazy with demands they couldn't see the need for, largely because they imagined a photographic studio to be a room with a few lights and a backdrop or two. I gave them no idea of it being a Dungeon as well; only the specialists who built the larger items knew that, because they fitted them, after the builders had gone.

All that effort had paid dividends ever since. Especially where rigging is concerned, the multitude of recessed mounts and fixings allow the equipment to be placed and secured easily. Today's commission was very specific: the client has a preference for non-consensual BDSM, and for young women, not young girls. Bella already knew the outline of what was to happen, which only fired her enthusiasm, her body vibrating with eagerness as I closed the cuffs around her wrists and ankles, her body secured between the first pair of steel posts. A second pair awaited my girl, the two would be facing each other, far enough apart to give the whips room to work, close enough to see every detail, just as the camera would, though not the video camera; that would only capture the overall view, proof enough that everything was real, not just realistic.

"Remember, this is Zoe's first time, so behave: no winks or other mischief, young lady." Bella nodded obediently.

"Yes, Ma'am, this one understands." I nodded and smiled, she was already sinking into the mindset, eager to please, more eager to be used.

Whilst I had secured Bella, Kat had been busy re-checking everything was ready for Zoe. It was, of course; Dee is utterly dependable, as is Kat, not to mention Roni, who arrived at the gallery exactly on time.

As I had arranged, the moment Zoe entered the gallery, Dee locked the door; the blinds were already drawn; we were closed for the day. Roni tightened her grip on Zoe and part pushed, part forced her across to the doors and down the corridor, not stopping as Dee opened the heavy double doors; Zoe still caught by surprise and off balance as Roni and I fastened the cuffs and pulled the securing chains tight. My girl was suddenly trapped centre stage, unaware of what was to happen and more than a little overwhelmed by her surroundings and those present. Although she knew everyone, their roles were not exactly as she was used to.

Everyone knew what to do, so there was no delay. Dee and I were ready to start shooting as Mistress Veronica began.

Still photography does not need dialogue; even so, there are times when I regret not having a recording. Roni in full Mistress mode is pure eroticism. Her accent and tone lift even the crudest of words to another level, not that I dislike those words that society brands crude, to me it is the context that makes them so, not the words themselves. Bella obviously felt the same as she sank deeper into the scene, casting off the last traces of Isabella, to become, as Dee so accurately christened her, the nympho-pixie, her body responding to every touch as Mistress Veronica worked her over, rifling her body, invading her, pinching, spanking, not yet stripping her clothes, though that would happen soon enough.

Meanwhile, Zoe watched, wide-eyed, very aware of her vulnerable immobility, her breathing already quickened, her nipples stiff beneath the sheer blouse, eyes watching every move Mistress Veronica made, no doubt trying to imagine how the nympho-pixie felt. Only occasionally would her eyes flick across to me, but I was busy shooting, aware of my slave's attention, yet resolutely ignoring her, for now.

Soon the sound of ripping cloth filled the Dungeon, Mistress Veronica taking her time. Not content to undress her prey — oh, no — she contrived to shred the clothes, ripping and tearing, every inch of bared flesh greeted with a slap, a spank, a pinch, sometimes a combination, until finally there was nothing left, just nakedness and tingling flesh. It was only then that she turned her attention to my girl...

I was certain that Zoe trusted me. I had no doubt that, however real, however intense the scene played out, my girl knew she was in my care, that nothing would happen that I did not intend. Yet, as I looked through the view-finder and the camera zoomed in to catch my slave's expression, for a moment I held my breath, her look of shock so absolute, so perfect, no pretence, nothing hidden, just raw emotion moulding her features and flashing in her eyes. But for years of practise, I would have been caught, frozen, spellbound; as it was, my mind and body worked the camera whilst my heart leapt and my soul danced.

Mistress Veronica proceeded to treat my girl exactly as she had Bella, every touch, every spank and pinch. At first, my girl seemed too shocked to respond, but Mistress Veronica was not playing; she faked nothing; it was not long before my girl had to respond, her body already leading where her mind had yet to venture. She had never expected anyone but me to touch her in that way, to use her, and right then she had no idea what the limits were; I could see it in her eyes, and so could the camera.

Now, it was Bella's turn to watch, her body still freshly mauled, intensely aware of how each touch felt, so absorbed in watching that her body mirrored each response, her body shying away from the more severe pinches and spanks, even as Zoe suffered them. Two full memory cards later, both girls were stripped, sore and ready, not that they had a choice, of course. Time for me to take over...

I had thought long and hard about this scene. I wanted to fulfill the client's desires, but not with another version of the scenes so often used as to become cliché, even mundane. For the first time ever, I intended to fake whip marks, but with a twist, one I hoped my girl would appreciate, later if not now. The recipe is basically edible body oil and raspberry syrup, poured into moulds and frozen. Kat had brought the first batch from the kitchen freezer already.

Putting my camera aside, I nodded to Dee, took up the crop and strode towards the girls. The nympho-pixie had suffered for me often enough, probably less often than she wished, certainly not as intensely, some might say viciously, as she begged for; Zoe knew this, at least in part, yet she had never seen me do it. My head hoped that Dee and the cameras would catch every expression on my girl's face; my heart hoped I could bear to look at them. Without pausing, I raised my crop and brought it down, the nympho-pixie gasping as the leather bit. As I raised the crop to strike again, her skin reacted to the first, an angry red line forming where the leather had struck. My position allowed Zoe a clear view, her eyes fixed on that thin red line. She cried out as Mistress Veronica pressed the frozen stick to her body and traced the exact same line, the oily syrup leaving a perfect thin line; being frozen kept it thin and, of course, added a nice twist, drawing the perfect response from Zoe.

And so it went, every blow I struck upon the nympho-pixie with the crop was mirrored exactly by Mistress Veronica with the frozen sticks upon Zoe. On and on, until the pixie hung from her cuffed wrists, body dripping with sweat, her smooth skin alive as her tired muscles twitched and writhed beneath. Not that my girl was unaffected, she, too, had suffered every blow, watching so closely, feeling the icy touch of the frozen sticks tracing every line; my girl was far from unaffected.