Date: Tue, 16 Aug 2011 18:49:38 -0400 (EDT)
From: Bythe Bragis
Subject: The Price of Love

The Price of Love (F/F, M/F, D/s, BD, Interracial) by Bythe Bragis
============================================================================
Chapter  One -- Elise
============================================================================

Layla's  Leatherwear - it stocked nothing but leather -- clothing,
boots, chaps, whips and  more. If you wanted it, and it was made of hide, Layla'
s was the place to go.  Although expensive, the store always did good
business.
Elise loved to go  there. She loved the smell of the leather, the feel of
it, and even the sound it  made when it slapped against her bare skin when
she wore it.  She inhaled  the sweet smell and sighed. As she ran her fingers
over the smooth garments, a  little black skirt studded with metal rivets,
and obviously very short caught  her attention. She closed her eyes for a
moment and imagined herself wearing it.  How she would be stared at with such
lust. How it would be so disgustingly short  it would barely cover her sweet
little bottom and show off her lovely legs. How  men would wolf whistle and
women wink suggestively. She wanted it. She glanced  down at the price tag. "
Forget it," she told herself, "it's far more than you  can possibly afford.
" Having been out of work for more than two weeks, and  wondering how she
would pay her next week's rent, little luxuries like this were  simply out of
the question. She pulled it from the rack and held it up against  her hips,
turning this way and that to study her refection in the nearby mirror  --
and she knew she had to have it regardless!
On this particular day it was  quieter than usual. Kitty, the sales
assistant, wasn't anywhere to be seen, and  two other people, a man and a woman,
were the only other customers. The security  guard appeared to be distracted
by them as they flirted and teased each other.  The man held a pair of black
leather trousers; the crotch was completely missing  and a short strap with
a metal large metal ring hung from the front. The woman  pouted as she ran
her finger around the inside of the ring and told him, "I  don't think this
is going to be big enough for you."
They laughed.
"Not  once you get hold of me!"
They laughed more.
"I want you to try them  on."
Together, they disappeared into a changing cubicle. The door closed and
Elise heard a shrill feminine cry, followed by giggling and knocking.
Normally,  she would have moved closer while pretending to browse; she often enjoyed
 listening to the couples when they disappeared like that. Today, however,
she  had something more pressing on her on her mind.
She looked over at the  security guard. He glanced surreptitiously around
before sidling over to the  changing cubicles. She needed to do it now. It
would be risky, but she could do  it. For several moments she stood there,
looking down and pretending to check  the price tags, then she dropped her bag
off her shoulder and gently pushed the  garment inside. It was so small that
it fitted inside easily. There, it had been  so damned easy! She began to
walk away.
"Stop right there, sweetheart."
She froze then gasped as a firm hand gripped her shoulder. She spun around
to see a tall man in his early forties, with a slight paunch, beady eyes
and  greasy receding hair, wearing a dark blue uniform and a lecherous grin.
Previously, Elise hadn't particularly liked the look of the security guard;
now  she certainly didn't!
She managed a weak smile, then asked innocently: "Is  there some kind of
problem here?"
"Damned right there is. I saw what you  just did."
Elise let out a breathy little sigh. "Oh, you saw what?"
"I  saw you shove that skirt in your bag."
"Oh?" She smiled again. "Now, how can  you be so sure?" Feeling a little
more relaxed now after the initial surprise,  she looked straight ahead at
this chest and began fiddling with the buttons on  his shirt, fingering them
playfully.
That hadn't been the reaction he had  expected, he hesitated unsure of what
to do next, then grinned down at her. "So,  you like to play, do you?"
"I might. I might even like to give you a little  private viewing of me
wearing the silly little skirt that all this fuss is  about," she replied,
moving a little closer while trying to ignore the smell of  body odor and stale
cigarettes emitting from him.
"You know, I think perhaps  we might be able to come to some kind of
arrangement here," he told her. "Yes,  indeedy!"
Placing her hand over her mouth to hide a little grin, she thought  smugly:
"Some times it's just too damned easy. Oh, you're so damned good,  Elise,
you really are!"
He ushered her into an office at the back of the  store. Elise had expected
they would be alone in there, instead they were  confronted by an
attractive woman sitting behind a large wooden desk. She noted  a small brass name
plaque with the name `Ms. Layla Starr' engraved on it. "So  this was the
lovely Layla," she thought. How many rumors and kinky stories had  she heard
about this woman, and yet, sitting there flawlessly groomed and in a  crisp
white blouse, she actually looked quite business-like.
As the two  entered, Layla looked up and began studying the girl's
features. The sweet face  would surely have had a rather innocent appeal if not for
the scarlet red  lipstick so carelessly smudged over the mouth, and the
clear sapphire eyes  spoiled with overly dark shadow. However, the clothes were
what really told  Layla everything she needed to know. The tight red skirt
had ridden up and now  pulled across the girl's hips, and the black top,
clinging and stretching over  her breasts and nipples, revealed that she
obviously didn't wear a bra. "The  cheap clothes of a whore," Layla noted silently
to herself. She leaned back in  her chair and in a nonchalant manner
inquired: "Well?"
"I caught this one  trying to steal, Mistress Layla," the security guard
announced, adding, "she  almost got away with it too, but not with old Marty,
here, on the job. "
Elise swung around and glared at him. "What does the fool think he's up to?
"  she asked herself, while frantically trying to think of another plan.
"Is  that so? Well, what am I to do with such a naughty little girl, Martin?
" As  Layla stood up, and moved around to the front of the desk, Elise
couldn't help  silently swooning at the tight, black, leather skirt worn so well
by this  intriguing woman with the cascading dark hair and mysterious
cat-like green  eyes. Tall and slim, with long legs accentuated by high-heeled
shoes, anyone,  male or female, would have to have seen that Layla was all
woman.
"I could  think of many things, Ma'am," the security guard told her with a
smirk.

"Yes, what ever happened to the last one we had to report, Martin?"
"Last I heard she was still in that women's prison just outside of town. A
 friend of mine told me she's sorry now, real sorry, just like this one is
going  to be."
"Now then, Martin, let's not be so hasty. We really should give the  girl
a chance to explain," Layla smiled, leaning forward to gently brush Elise's
 curls back from her face and take a closer look.
"It's all a mistake!" Elise  protested.
Layla looked her up and down, "Well of course it is, dear. I  understand. I
really do." Then her expression changed. She pursed her lips and
continued. "Now understand this: I don't want to report you to the police -- I
really don't. If I do, you will be locked up for a long time, just like Martin
here said. You know Martin used to work at a women's jail." Layla sighed. "
Oh  dear, the stories he could tell you; dreadful, simply dreadful."
Martin  grinned.
"Yes, I know all about you. Only this time, my sweet little pet,  you're
not going to talk your way out of it quite so easily."
What did this  woman know about her? It wasn't important. Elise needed to
get out of there.  Yes, she would use the same little trick she had used time
and time before. She  began to cry. Sad, soft, little sobs at first that
made her whole body jerk with  each gasp. Then, burying her face in her
quivering hands, she stooped over, and  let the tears flow freely. "Please, it was
all a mistake! I've never done  anything like this before! I don't know
what came over me. Please don't report  me. Please!" she begged, stopping
only briefly to glance up and see if her  little performance was having the
desired effect.
Was it really her fault  she had to have nice things? It had been the same
ever since she was a little  girl. She would see something she wanted; she
would have to have it, and so she  would take it. Of course, there were many
occasions when she had been caught.  She would beg and plead. Her soft brown
curls would fall down over her sweet  face, and tears would well up in her
big blue eyes. She would cry, promise never  to do it again, and all would
be forgiven. Since then she had grown up into a  lovely looking young woman;
nothing else, however, had changed.
The truth  was, Layla knew nothing of her or the cunning little games she
so often played,  but she knew Elise's kind. Pretty little things who schemed
and planned, who  were conniving and conceited, and believed they could get
away with anything  with anyone. What sweet little fools they were.
Layla moved closer and  slipped an arm around the girl's shoulders. "Now
then, there's no need to cry.  I'm sure we can come to some kind of
arrangement here," she explained, pulling  Elise closer to comfort her, letting the
side of the girl's face rest against  her breasts. Wet tears began to mark
the fine fabric of Layla's blouse, making  little transparent patches and
revealing parts of her lacey bra.
The  security guard grinned and ogled the two women, licking his lips and
staring  unashamedly, as if by blinking he might miss some salacious little
detail.
"But, I have no money, and I've been unemployed for the last two weeks."
Layla smiled. Those were the words she liked to hear. Releasing Elise, then
 standing up, she told her, "No money?
Oh, you silly little thing you, who  said anything about money?" Then,
turning to Martin, added. "Leave us."
He  made an audible sigh, shook his head and shuffled out of the room.
"Please  sit down. I'm Layla Starr. You may call me... well, we can sort
that out later.  And you are?"
"Elise; my name's Elise, Ma'am."
"Well, Elise, you know it  just so happens I'm looking for someone..." she
hesitated for a moment before  continuing, "...a personal assistant. No,
not at the shop here, at my home. It's  not difficult work at all, really. In
fact, I'm sure it would suit a pretty  little girl like you. The pay is
good, in fact, you'll find that I can be a very  generous, to those who please
me." Layla smiled as she sat on the edge of her  desk then, leaning over and
placing her hand on Elise's knee, she added in a  whispered tone, "You do
understand what I am saying, don't you?"
"Oh, yes, I  understand completely. Thank you so much."
Elise wiped her face with back of  her hand while nodding and trying not to
grin.  "I did it again!" she told  herself triumphantly. "Working for
Layla will be so easy. Obviously, what I've  heard is true, she's got a thing
for women -- well isn't that just going to be a  sweet bonus. Why, if I
please her, she may even give me that skirt! Sure, she  will. Oh, she seems so
nice. Yes, I can use that to my advantage too."
Layla  slowly pushed her fingers between Elise's legs, gently rubbing them
up and down  the inside of her thighs before pulling away. "Of course, it
will be a live-in  position. I have a very large house. You can have your own
room."
As Layla  explained the details, Elise liked the sound of it more and more.
"Can you  move in tomorrow?"
"Yes, of course."
The following day, Elise packed her  bags.


Chapter 2 - Elise's New Home.
============================================================================

As  she sat in the back of the taxi, she felt excited about her new
position.   "You'll have your own room, and my maid will take care of all your
personal  needs", she had been told. A maid! "Please bring only your
essentials," Layla  also told her, with a disdainful look at her worn cotton
skirt and blouse. "I  will take care of your wardrobe and anything else you need.
" New clothes! And  maybe some leatherwear too!
"Isn't it funny how quickly things can turn  around," she mused, gazing
out of the window. They were on an open road now,  quite a way out of town and
driving through a lush rural area. When the taxi  eventually turned off the
main road, Elise was astonished by what she saw. At  the end of the long
driveway was a house, more like a mansion, made of stone  rather than bricks,
with a huge wooden door at the front covered by a portico  held up by tall
white pillars. On either side rose bushes bloomed with scarlet  flowers.
"Are you certain this is the right address?" she questioned the  driver.
"Yes, Miss. I'm quite sure."
Elise grinned and almost giggled  with delight. She paid him, then grabbing
her bags, slipped out of the car.  "Keep the change!" she called over her
shoulder before hurrying up to the front  door. She lifted the doorknocker
and hit it down a couple of times then waited.  Her heart raced as she began
to imagine what might be inside. How many rooms  were there? What would her
room look like? Was there a billiard room? A  ballroom? "Daddy always called
me his little princess, and now I'm going to be  living like one," she
thought.
The creaking of the door opening interrupted  her reminiscing. A tall black
woman with short-cropped hair and dressed in a  maid's uniform looked her
up and down.  "You must be the new girl. Nice,  very nice," she smirked
before standing to one side and allowing Elise to enter.
"Yes, that's right, I'm Elise Madison. I'm the new personal assistant to
the  mistress of this house," she replied, and this woman with the smug
attitude had  better not forget it or the fact that she was just the maid!
"My name is  Rose Redpepper; you may call me Rose. Your room is upstairs.
Please follow me,  Miss Elise."
A Rose by any other name could not have looked more hard-faced.  It was
difficult to estimate her age -- certainly over thirty. Although not a  heavy
woman, Elise couldn't help but notice her firm muscular arms. "She's got a
slave's build," Elise thought condescendingly. "She should have been born in
the  nineteenth century and been put out to work in the cotton fields."
The  marbled hallway was spacious and bare but for a small table with a
large  arrangement of fresh flowers set in the middle. To one side, Elise noted
a  sitting room. Several other doors also led off from this area; however,
they  were all closed. A wide and ornate wooden staircase opposite the front
door was  carpeted down the center with a plush red pile.
Rose lead Elise up to her  room without another word or an offer to carry
her bags. Elise made a mental  note that she would definitely have to set
some ground rules with this woman,  but for now she was just simply too excited
to care.
"This will be your  room, Miss Elise. Mistress Layla thought you would
enjoy the view from the  balcony over the gardens."
Elise blinked. The room was almost as big as the  entire flat she had been
renting in town. The walls were painted a soft cream  and matched the lovely
satin pillows and covers on the four poster bed. A large  dressing table
dominated another wall, and a few other pieces of furniture had  been placed
around the room: a velvet upholstered chair with matching footstool  and a
small table, again adorned by a vase of fresh flowers. On the opposite  side
from the bed, through an open door, next to a large wardrobe, Elise  glimpsed
the shiny cream-colored tiles of a bathroom. Her very own `ensuite'!
Unable to contain her excitement any longer, she dropped her bags and ran
over to bed, throwing herself on it and letting out a loud squeal of delight
as  she kicked her legs.
"I see you approve of your room, Miss Elise," Rose  observed without the
slightest sign of emotion. "Mistress Layla will be home in  a couple of
hours.  You will need to bathe and be ready for her. You will  find everything
you need in your bathroom." And with that, she turned and left.
For several minutes Elise just lay on the bed grinning. Certainly she was
aware of what her new position would almost certainly entail -- sex, sex with
 Layla.  "Little Elise is going to be paid to have sex with lovely Layla
Starr," she said out loud and then laughed. She liked the sound of that. "
Little  Elise is going to be paid to have sex with lovely Layla Starr... " She
softly  chanted it over and over again, then rolling off then bed, she
floated into the  bathroom to begin preparing, pouring copious quantities of the
expensive bath  oil into the water.
She undressed and stood in front of the full-length  mirror, cupping her
breasts, examining every delicate curve of her sweet young  body before gently
rubbing her pink nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.  Within a very
short time, she felt herself becoming aroused. Elise pouted at her  image
in the mirror then blew herself a kiss. "You're such a hot little bitch;
you know that, don't you?" She walked over to the bath and gingerly tested
the  temperature with her big toe before stepping into the warm water. Once
her whole  body had been immersed, she closed her eyes and let one hand slip
down between  her thighs. She moaned and gently rubbed her middle and index
fingers over  either side of her throbbing clit. Then, spreading her legs a
little wider, she  gasped and plunged one inside her throbbing pussy.
"How are you doing there,  Miss Elise?"
Startled, Elise immediately opened her eyes and looked up to  see Rose
standing next to the bath, licking her full lips and peering down. With  her
hands on her hips and her legs spread wide, Rose seemed some how even taller
than she actually was. Elise glared up at her.
Placing one hand across her  bare breasts, she immediately pulled her hand
from between her thighs and drew  her legs up to her chest. "Do you mind! I
would much prefer you didn't disturb  me while I am bathing!"
Rose pouted and gave her a look of mock  disappointment, then retreated
without replying.
Elise felt frustrated and  embarrassed, and having now lost the urge to
satisfy herself, sat up and climbed  out of the bath. She dried herself off
with a big fluffy towel then walked back  into the bedroom. Her bags were gone.
She walked over to the wardrobe and looked  inside; it was empty. The
drawers too contained absolutely nothing. She hurried  back to the bathroom but
soon realized the clothes she had just taken off were  gone also.
"Rose? Rose? Where are my things?" she began shouting as she  moved
towards the door. She grasped the knob, but it was locked. "Rose!" she  shouted
again, beating her fist on the door. "Open this damned door!"
She  stopped to listen and heard footsteps outside, followed by the
clinking of the  lock. The door began to open; however, Elise quickly stopped it,
leaving just  enough of a gap to speak through. "Where are my things? I want
them now!" she  demanded.
Rose stood there for a moment then, placing her large hand on the  door,
pushed it wide open, forcing her way inside past Elise. She walked  directly
over to the dresser and picked up a large wooden hairbrush.
Elise  stormed over behind her, "What do you think you're doing? Put that
damned thing  down and go and find me something to wear!"
Rose looked up and smiled at her  own reflection in the mirror then turned
around and grabbed hold of Elise's arm,  dragging her over to the bed. She
sat down and pulled the naked girl across her  lap. Elise struggled and
fought to free herself; however, the larger and older  woman's strength
overpowered her completely as she rested one arm firmly across  her back and
shoulders. Rose held her there in that position while she admired  Elise's smooth
white bottom; then, she raised the brush and brought it down on  the soft
sweet flesh. The shock of being slapped and the sudden burning sting  made Elise
jerk and cry out, but before she had a chance to protest or attempt  to
squirm free again, another stinging blow seared her tender skin. Again and
again, Rose struck her little victim until her pretty and pert cheeks were
covered with angry red welts. Tears now flowed freely down Elise's face.
"Please, please no more! Just tell me what you want?"
Rose grinned and  carelessly tossed the hairbrush to the floor. She always
found it so satisfying  to break in a new girl. "Rose wants you to be a good
girl. Now that's not asking  too much is it?"
"I'll be good. I'll be a really good girl."
Grabbing a  handful of Elise's hair, Rose then forced the sobbing girl off
her lap and on  the floor kneeling in front of her. She kept her firm grip
while she explained  the situation. "Mistress Layla has been extremely
generous with you.  You  know she could easily have reported you to police and had
you locked up for a  long time. Do you think you would get a room like this
in prison? Well?"
Elise's bottom felt hot and sore, and her bare breasts heaved with each
sob,  but she managed to mumble, "No."
"No, what?"
Elise didn't understand  what was expected of her, however Rose was quick
to explain, jerking the girl's  head back further and leaning down as if
wanting to make herself more clearly  understood, "No, `Rose". You will call me
Rose, and Mistress Layla, you will  call, Mistress Layla".
"Yes, Rose."
"Do you think you would be in the  service of a lovely Mistress like Layla
in a prison?"
"No, Rose."
"Well  then, at last you're beginning to understand then, aren't you?"
Rose pursed  her lips and gave Elise's head another quick jerk to reinforce
what she had just  been told.
"Yes, Rose. Sorry, Rose."
Releasing Elise's hair, Rose stood  up and slipped her hand under her white
apron, into her pocket, to produce what  appeared to be a black, leather,
dog collar.
"Put this on. Buckle it around  your neck," Rose told her, holding it in
front of Elise.
"But it's -- it's a  dog collar!"
Rose took a deep breath. She tightened both her fists around  the leather,
then, holding just the buckle, she lunged at Elise and slashed it  across
one side of the girl's face.
Elise cried out as it hit her soft cheek  with such force that it sent her
tumbling sideways onto the floor. She held her  hand to her to her stinging
cheek and began sobbing again while remaining  collapsed on the floor.
Rose tossed the collar onto the floor and walked  out, closing and locking
the door behind her.


Chapter 3 - Layla and Rose.
============================================================================

Rose  had always been there. First, as Edward's housekeeper looking
after him, and  then, after he and Layla had married, as a trusted servant to
them both.   Soon after Layla had moved into the mansion she and Rose had
become close  friends rather than mistress and maid. Layla had lost both her
parents at a  young age, and since Rose was more than ten years her senior, it
just seemed so  natural for the older woman to assume the positions of care
giver and  confidant.  Many mornings the two women would sit at the kitchen
table,  sharing a pot of tea and a chat. "
"Rose, I'm so lucky," Layla gushed one  day as she sipped her tea. "
Edward is the most wonderful man any woman could  possibly hope for. I love him
so much."
Rose simply smiled.
Many people  assumed Layla had married the much older Edward for his money,
but
they had  been wrong. Layla had been close to her late father, finding and
falling in  love with Edward filled a void she had lived with for a long
time. Of
course, she had known many men before her husband: younger men who had
served to
amuse and entertain her briefly. Younger men, who had none of the
knowledge and
experience of how to fully satisfy a woman's needs. Younger  men, whom she
had
become bored her so very easily. Once Edward had shown her  the true
meaning of
sensual pleasure, there had simply been no doubt in her  mind that he was
the one
for her
When, after five years of blissful  marriage, Edward had died suddenly of a
massive heart attack in the arms of  pretty young prostitute, it had been
Rose who stood tall and supported Layla  through the heartbreak. Of course
Layla realized it wasn't Edwards fault. After  all he was just a man, and men
have their weaknesses. No, it was that wretched  little whore who had
seduced him -- it was her fault -- she was the cause of  Edward's demise.
Late one evening, almost a year after her husband's death,  Layla sat with
Rose on the sofa wearing just her robe. She rested her head on  her maid's
lap and, sobbing softly, confided to her, "Rose, I will never let  another
man touch me.  No man can ever replace my Edward."
Rose smiled  and leaning down took Layla's hand and brushed it gently over
her lips. At  first, Layla had been surprised. Her maid had never shown her
that kind of  physical affection before, and so she immediately sat upright.
Then, as Rose  looked into her eyes and gently stroked the side of her
face, she felt herself  being drawn towards those strong and protective arms. It
began with a comforting  embrace then, as Rose let her fingers slip down
under Layla's robe to caress her  quivering breasts just like Edward used to,
everything felt so natural.
"Open your legs, Layla. Yes, just like that. Do everything I tell you, and
everything will be just fine," she whispered.
Layla sniffed back a tear, and  laying back, she let her long slim legs
drop open. Yes, Rose would fix  everything. Rose would heal her hurt. Rose
always knew what to do.
"There,  now. Doesn't that feel nice?" Rose slid her long brown fingers up
between  Layla's creamy thighs, stroking them with her smooth and soothing
hand.
Layla closed her eyes and mewed. It had been so long since she had been
touched like that -- so long since she had felt that sweet burning desire deep
between her legs. She slid her body farther down the sofa, letting her robe
fall  open to expose her erect pink nipples. Rose cupped one hand over a
pale breast,  then, leaning down, she kissed it gently before sucking the hard
nipple. Layla  remained relaxed and compliant, and so Rose gingerly pulled
the robe completely  open, to gaze upon her mistress's lovely body. It was
as if Rose was admiring a  special present she had been waiting a long time
to unwrap. Smiling, she  observed the fine brush of hair covering the sweet
treasure. Yes, it was a fine  gift in deed.
Rose had promised Edward she would always look after his wife,  and she had
every intention of keeping her word. She would care for Layla in  every
way, especially her precious pussy. Yes, that had to be protected. Rose  saw
the way men looked at her lovely mistress. Bastards! Even at the funeral,
when they had hugged Layla and pretended to comfort her, Rose knew what they
really wanted. Now, Rose would show her she didn't need a man's cock any
more.
Rose ran her wet tongue over her upper lip then placed her hands on the
inside of Layla's thighs to open her legs wider. She pressed her mouth down
onto  her mistress's soft petals and began to gently lap up her feminine
wetness. Her  nectar tasted just as Rose had always imagined it would -- too good
for any man  in her mistress's life now. None of them would taste that
sweetness if Rose had  anything to do with it.
It had been a long time since Layla had felt such a  heated womanly desire,
and her body soon writhed and twisted but with a new kind  of desire she
had never experienced before. All her heartache and pain began to  wash away,
and she became thoroughly immersed in the sweet erotic pleasure that  only a
woman is capable of giving.
Gently, Rose lapped at her folds before  sucking on her mistress's swollen
clit.  Within a short time, Layla cried  out, and her whole body quivered
with enjoyment she hadn't experienced since  losing Edward. Raising her hips
instinctively to meet the warm wetness of Rose's  tongue and mouth, Layla
climaxed long and hard in a rush of heated excitement.  For several minutes
afterwards, she lay there with her eyes closed while Rose  watched her breasts
rise and fall with each labored breath. Soon, Layla drifted  into an
exhausted sleep. Rose smile and gently pulled a warm blanket up over her  before
retreating.
Rose never touched her mistress again, and they never  discussed what had
happened between them that evening. From then on, however,  Layla grew strong
and powerful in ways she could never have envisaged. She knew  what she
wanted now and, true to her word, she never let another man touch her  again.


Chapter Four -- Elise Gets Shaved.
============================================================================

Later,  when Elise had climbed onto the bed and tucked her knees up to
her chest, sleep  had come easily, regardless of the fact that her poor
little bottom and face  still hurt.
When she awoke, it was to the sound of female voices -- Layla and  Rose --
discussing her as they stood on either side of the bed, looking down at  her.
"I have a feeling this one is going to be trouble," Rose warned.
"Perhaps, but I'm sure you can have her trained in no time, Rose. I have
complete confidence in you."
Then, leaning down and stroking the side of  Elise's face with the back of
her hand, Layla noted, "You're really rather a  pretty little thing without
all that awful make-up, aren't you?" Then,  inspecting the girl's face
more closely, "Oh dear, did Rose do that to you? You  must have been a very
naughty; Rose here has so much patience, she really does.  She amazes me at
times."
Elise tried to sit up, but quickly realized her  wrists and ankles had been
cuffed and chained to the corners of the bed, and a  collar secured around
her neck. And, she still had no clothes on! "Please  release me?" she
begged, straining to lift her head. "I promise I will do what  ever you want me
to."
"All in good time, little one, all in good time. Now,  Rose, all that hair
covering her lovely pussy, that will simply have to go. You  may shave her
now."
Elise was stunned. She fell back limp on the bed, for  now at least she
would have to accept her fate. If Layla wanted her shaved,  that's how it would
be.  What other choice did she have lying there naked,  chained, and
vulnerable? Yes, for now, it would be best to co-operate.
Rose  disappeared into the bathroom, returning a short time later with a
tray. On it  were a bowl of warm water, soap, towels, and a razor. She placed
it down on the  bed beside Elise. After wetting her hands, Rose began
rubbing the soap between  her fingers. It made light squelching sounds. She then
slid one hand down  between Elise's open legs and began covering her genital
area with the  sweet-smelling lather. An odd mixture of embarrassment and
arousal filled  Elise's head with confusion. She enjoyed the soothing
sensation, but then when  she saw Rose reach for the razor, she immediately felt
herself stiffen. She had  never been shaved before and certainly not by another
woman -- and a black woman!
"You enjoy doing this; don't you, Rose," Layla quipped. "Nice and close
now,  and be sure to get every little bit; I don't want any stubble left."
Slowly  and carefully, with an almost surgical like precision, Rose scraped
the blade  over Elise's soft folds. Elise felt sure no-one had ever taken
such an intense  interest in her genitals before. Rose leaned down and stared
intently, checking  just in case she had missed the minutest spot. Then,
when she was satisfied the  girl's genitals were completely bare, she took a
towel and gently patted it over  the freshly shaven area.
"There, now, that's much better," Layla purred,  smiling and running her
fingers over Elise's mound. "Have her ready in two hours  for dinner, Rose."
"Yes, Mistress Layla. Shall I release her now?"
"No,  leave her. I think it will do the girl good to be restrained a little
longer. It  will give her time to think things over."
For more than an hour Elise lay in  the slowly dimming room. She couldn't
be exactly sure how long it had been or  what time it was -- late in the
afternoon certainly. She began to feel hungry.  She had been so excited about
coming to this place she hadn't eaten since  breakfast. Maybe if she
co-operated things would be as Layla had promised,  rather pleasant, but what about
Rose? Already that woman was beginning to  aggravate Elise. Her smugness, her
arrogance, her lack of respect! "So Layla's  into a little bit of kinky
play -- well sure, if she wants to tie me up from time  to time, I guess I can
deal with that," she told herself. A cool breeze blew in  through the large
open window, rustling the flimsy curtains and gently caressing  her swollen
clit, now protruding from between her smooth folds. Elise sighed and  closed
her eyes. She wished her hands were free.


Chapter Five: Dinner for Two.
============================================================================

Elise  sat at the clear glass-topped dining room table. Layla sat
opposite, dressed in  long black evening gown, her dark hair pulled up in a knot
at the back of her  head and her neck adorned in a lovely diamond and pearl
necklace.  Elise  would also have looked rather formally dressed, in the
flowing red dress she had  been given to wear, if it hadn't been for the collar
secured around here neck.  For several minutes the two remained silent.
Then Layla spoke, "Good girl, I see  you are a fast learner, or, can it just be
that Rose is just a very competent  trainer?" Layla wondered aloud, looking
across at the sweet young girl with the  down cast eyes down sitting
opposite her.
Elise wasn't sure if this was a  rhetorical question or not, she glanced up
and then quickly down again.
"Answer your mistress, girl," Rose, who was standing to one side, told
her.
"Yes, Mistress Layla, she's teaching me all kinds of things."
Elise  couldn't be sure if Rose was a `good trainer' or not, however, she
could be  certain of one thing -- Rose was a sadistic bitch who wouldn't
hesitate to punish  her for the slightest misdemeanor.
"Get up," Rose had told Elise upon  returning to her room earlier that day
as she unlocked the cuffs that secured  her hands.
Elise felt stiff after being in the same position for more than  an hour as
she struggled to sit up before rubbing her wrists.
"I want to go  now," she told Rose. "It doesn't matter whether I took
that stupid skirt or not,  you can't keep me here."
Rose ignored her and continued unlocking the cuffs  around her ankles.
"Didn't you hear me? I said, I want to go now."
Rose  finished, then looking directly at Elise, she smiled as she produced
her leather  crop. Holding it between her fists, she flexed it and hissed. "
Don't you  understand? You're not going anywhere, you stupid little bitch!"
Before Elise  had a chance to reply, Rose slashed it across the girl's
delicate nipples.
Immediately Elise cried out, clutching at her breasts as sobbing, she
collapsed onto the bed in a fetal position. "You can't treat me like this!"
"Get down on the floor, slut!" Rose was losing patience. "I said, get down
 on the floor."
A full ten seconds elapsed. That was too much time wasted for  Rose. She
leaned over the cowering girl and applied several more welts to her  back and
ass.
Each time, Elise cried out as the burning lash of the crop  licked at her
tender flesh.
"Now listen, and listen good, you little bitch.  Your time here will be a
whole lot easier when you learn to do as you are told.  You will kneel, not
sit, unless you are instructed otherwise. You will keep your  legs spread
wide at all times.  You will not touch that pretty little pussy  of yours
without permission. Obey the rules, and you will only be whipped for  your
mistress's pleasure and amusement; disobey, and it will give me great  pleasure to
punish you." Rose smiled and continued, "Do you have any questions?  "
Elise sniffed a couple of times and looked up, "How long will I be kept
here, Rose?"
"A week, a month, a year, who knows? It's entirely up to  Mistress Layla.
The last one was here... let me think -- six months. "
"You  mean there have been others before me?"
"Well, of course there have been,  you stupid little whore. You didn't
really think you were something special did  you? Surely, you didn't think you
were the first stray cat Mistress Layla has  dragged home, did you?"
Now sitting opposite Layla, Elise began to wonder  exactly how many.
"You may serve now, Rose."
Dinner was a very pleasant  surprise: beef consommé, filet mignon with a
light salad, followed by fresh  strawberries and cream. Layla ate slowly,
sipping her wine and watching Elise  gobble hers down. It had been a long time
since the girl had eaten so well.
When they had finished, Layla questioned Elise about her former living
arrangements. Had she cleared out all her belongs? Had she finalized the
lease?  Did she need money to clear it? Elise, conscious of Rose standing  near
by with her crop in hand, answered each one simply and honestly.
Later,  as Rose cleared away the last dishes, Layla inquired, "You haven't
seen all the  house yet, have you, little one?"
"No, not yet, Mistress Layla."
"Well,  then, come; I will show you around now." She smiled and stood up.
Elise did the  same, but immediately Rose glared at her and began patting
her crop in the palm  of her hand.
"No, it's alright, Rose. The girl may walk next to me."
Elise gave Rose a quick, snide glance.
They left the dinning room and  walked out into a long hallway adorned on
both sides with many larger-than-life  paintings. Most were of erotic scenes:
men with women, women with women, and  others featured three, four, or more
naked bodies twisting and pressing against  each other in orgies of
pleasure and pain.
Elise stared wide-eyed at the  unusual artwork.
Layla stopped in front of one of the portraits. It depicted  a beautiful
young girl, totally naked, with her hands bound behind her back,  performing
oral sex on a handsome older man while he lay back on a velvet couch.
"My late husband had an eye for beauty," Layla told Elise, waving her hand
 about. "He just simply couldn't resist beautiful things." She smiled and
seemed  to drift into her own thoughts for a moment. "Come, I want to show
you my  special room now, little one."
Elise glanced down at her erect nipples  pressing through the fine fabric
of her dress as much from the arousal of what  she was seeing as the cool
evening air.  "This is her way of seducing me,"  Elise thought smugly. "Will
she take me here or maybe in one of the bedrooms?"
At the end of the hallway they came to a closed door. Layla opened it and
stood to one side. Elise stepped past, but halted immediately, shocked by
what  she saw. She gasped and blinked; could this really be what it appeared
to  be?


Chapter Six: The Dungeon.
============================================================================

The  room was dimly lit with only candles giving it an eerie glow.
Elise wriggled her  noise; it smelled odd as if it needed a good airing. Chains
and ropes hung on  the walls, and several odd looking pieces of equipment
were partially visible in  the shadowy corners. It was a dungeon!
"I don't want to be here; I don't  like this at all," Elise protested.
However, before she could turn around, a  pair of strong hands had gripped her
from behind. One clamped over her mouth,  and the other slid around her
shoulders and chest like a strap of iron. She knew  immediately by their
strength that they belonged to Rose. She began to struggle  wildly, but her
efforts were futile.  Rose forced her inside the room,  shoving her from behind.
Layla followed them and slammed the door shut.
"Struggle all you want, slut," Rose told her, smirking and forcing the
helpless girl to where she required her to be.
Elise squinted through tears  in an attempt to see more clearly, but it was
all happening too fast; it was  flashing before her like a terrible dream.
She felt her face pushed down on  something firm and smooth. Leather - yes,
it was a leather bench of some kind.  Hands were all over her body, then her
arms were pulled out in front of her and  her wrists cuffed to something
solid. She gasped as her ass was slapped, and she  was told, "Spread your legs
slut!" Her legs - yes, they were still free. She  kicked back wildly, but
her efforts were rewarded with more stinging lashes to  her ass and the back
of her legs. More tears began to run down her cheeks. She  relented and
moved her feet apart. Hands were on her again -- something was being  pushed
between her ankles... a bar of some kind.  Now, unable to move her  legs either,
she lay face down on the leather-covered bench, helpless to do  anything
but wait.
"I thought you might give us a little bit of a fight,"  Rose quipped as
she moved around in front of the bench, grabbing Elise by the  hair and
jerking her head up. "You're a fiery little slut, aren't you?"
Elise was about to answer when a loud ripping sound made her gasp. The
silky  fabric slipped down, and she realised her ass was now completely exposed.

Then Layla's voice: "Look at her, Rose; she's wet already. Didn't I tell
you  I thought this one was a hot little whore, and I was right!" Layla
rubbed her  hand between Elise's leg, feeling her soft clean folds and swollen
clit, before  lifting her hand and showing it to Rose. "She's a whore who
needs to be  punished, just like they all do." Leaning over Elise's body she
whispered, "You  want some cock don't you, little Elise? That's all any of
you are after."
Elise was confused, then as Layla walked around in front of her and held up
 a large rubber cock, she understood. Layla grinned, then placed the toy to
her  mouth and took a long, slow lick down its shaft.
"You want some cock so  badly, don't you?" Layla waved at Elise. " Well,
answer me, girl!"
"Yes,  Mistress Layla."
However, instead of pacifying her, the reply seemed to  anger Layla. She
scowled and then used the rubber phallus to slap the side of  Elise's face.
"You whores are all the same."
Elise cried out in shock as  much as pain.
"Look at her; look how her mouth gapes open for that cock.  Give it to her,"
 Rose instructed.
The cock was large, larger than any Elise  had experienced. When Layla
rammed into her mouth, it was more than she felt she  could deal with, and she
gasped for breath. This amused the two women, and they  laughed out loud.
Elise coughed and spluttered as the saliva-coated cock was  removed.
"What's the matter, whore, is this too much for you? I thought all  whores
loved a big cock."
Through loud sobs, Elise begged, "Please, no more.  Please, let me go!"
"Oh, so you've had enough now, have you? Enough cock? I  don't think so.
Whores like you have never had enough. You want more, yes,  always more!"
Layla hissed.
Layla walked around behind Elise, who strained  to see but was secured too
tightly. Fingers were between her legs again, feeling  and fondling her most
private parts.
"Since this is what you want to much,  take it, little whore!" And with
that, Layla pressed the rubber cock against the  girl's vagina and rammed it
inside her.
Elise screamed. Layla pushed deep,  only to pull it back again and repeat
the action. Obscene squelching noises made  Layla laugh as she plunged in and
then out of Elise's wet folds. "Take it all  whore!"
Tiny beads of sweat began to form on Elise's face and body. Helpless  to do
anything, she whimpered softly and waited for it all to finish.
Through half-closed eyes and tears, Elise could see Rose walking to the
back  wall where an assortment of whips hung. She selected one and returned,
handing  it to Layla.
"No pleasure without pain," she told Elise, raising the flogger  and
lashing it down across the girl's bare bottom.
It felt sharp, cutting  into her tender flesh then burning and leaving
several blistered welts, but to  her Elise's amazement it caused her whole body
to shiver with heated desire.  Soon her own sticky wetness was trickling
down the insides of her legs. An  intense and heated excitement like nothing
she had experienced before enveloped  her.
Pleasure and pain! Elise's head spun with confusion and mixed emotions  as
she writhed in perverted excitement, each lash bringing her to new heights
of  sexual gratification, each cry releasing a raw animal desire inside her,
and  each little quiver of her greedy cunt, making her hungry for more.
"Please,  please," she begged silently, but then questioning herself -- "
Please stop? Hell,  no!"
Within minutes it became too much for her to bear. Her cunt pulsated  and
her body convulsed, as opened mouthed and panting like a bitch in heat, she
gasped then screamed, and a feeling of totally glorious self pleasure washed
 over her.
Layla grinned down at her; she was pleased. "I like this one," she  told
Rose.


Chapter seven - The Preparation.
============================================================================

Elise  stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror and ran her
hands over the  smooth black stockings she wore. Her hair had been tied into
a tight little knot  at the back of her head. The black silk corset she wore
was too tight, and  already it felt uncomfortable as it pinched her waist.
The shoes were high and  spiked, and black also. Tiny padlocks ensured they
could not be removed until  Rose unlocked them. Her make-up felt thick and
caked on, and the perfume she  wore already had her head in a spin -- Rose had
had been more than generous with  her application of both.
Earlier in the day, Elise awoke to sunlight  streaming through her bedroom
window when Rose drew the curtains back. Sitting  up in bed, she stretched
and then pulled the sheets up around herself. She  wasn't entirely sure why,
but she just didn't feel comfortable being naked  around Rose.
"I've prepared you some breakfast, Miss Elise. I hope you will  enjoy it."
Rose walked over and placed a tray on the side of the bed, then  lifted the
cover. It smelled good: bacon, eggs, and toast on one plate, freshly
prepared fruit on another, and a steaming cup of tea.
"I'm not hungry, Rose,  " Elise said, pouting and rolling over to look
away.
"The cleaning staff  will be here today, so you're going to have to stay
in your room for most of  today." Rose indicated to a large pile of magazines
sitting on the dresser,  "I've brought you some reading material. There
are a few catalogues there too.  You may choose what-ever you want from them,
and I'll arrange to have it all  delivered here." Then as if it was an
afterthought, Rose added, "Of course,  you'll choose nothing red."
Elise rolled back over and gave a little frown,  "But I thought Mistress
Layla liked me in red."
Rose repeated herself,  "nothing in red," then she left.
Immediately Elise threw back the sheets and  hurried over to the door. She
turned the knob; it was locked. Resigning herself  to her day, she walked
back over to the bed, laid back, and began picking at the  fruit as she
pondered the previous evening.
Could she really admit to  herself that she actually enjoyed that
treatment? Her bottom and poor little  pussy were still sore! And yet, she couldn't
deny that that was the most intense  orgasm she had ever experienced. How
could this be so?  Once again her head  spun in confusion. And Rose, why was
she being so nice this morning? What did  she want? Most of all Elise wondered
about Layla -- yes, beautiful and intriguing  Layla. "L-Lay-la!" she said
the name out loud.
Her day dragged, interrupted  only once when Rose brought her lunch. Elise,
however, managed to amuse herself  for most of it by choosing a whole new
wardrobe from the catalogues she had been  given. She wondered how much it
would all cost? Certainly more than she could  ever have been able to afford.
Still, Rose had told her , "Choose what ever you  want," -- and so she had.
Late in the afternoon Rose returned. "You will need  to be bathed and be
prepared in one hour," she told Elise.
"Prepared?"
"Yes, Mistress Layla has invited a few friends over for a little dinner
party tonight, and she would like you to attend."
Elise liked the sound of  that. "I'll be sweet. I'll be polite. Above all,
I'll be sexy and seductive,"  she thought smugly, wondering exactly who
might be invited. "Yes, I'll show her  and that black bitch how good I can be.
"
"Quickly now," Rose told her,  pointing with her crop towards the
bathroom.
Elise stood up and waited for  the maid to leave; however, Rose just stood
there.
"I can take care of  myself."
"Oh, but I insist," Rose replied.
"That's ridiculous, I  don't..."
"I said, I insist. Now move that sweet lily white ass of yours,  girl."
Rose raised her crop and swung it through the air. It made a whooshing  sound
before landing on Elise's bare bottom.
"Arh!"
"I really get so  tired of telling you twice," Rose told her, delivering a
couple more quick  slaps. Elise jumped. Her face contorted, and she cried
out again.  That  seemed like enough to convince her that maybe it wouldn't
be such a bad idea to  be watched while she bathed. Elise's bottom lip
quivered, partly in pain, partly  in anger. She rubbed her ass cheeks with her
hands, then turned and stormed into  the bathroom.
When the tub was full, Rose indicated for Elise to get in.  This time the
girl did what was expected of her. Closing her eyes, she immersed  herself
down into the warm water and tried to forget about Rose standing there.  Elise
felt a hand on her breast! It Rose, of course.
"I will take care of  you," she said, smirking and gently brushing the
back of her fingers over one of  Elise's nipples.
"But I can wash myself!"
"Oh, but I insist," Rose told  her, cupping a little water in her hand and
letting it trickle down between the  girl's young breasts.
Elise took a deep breath and tried to relax. Being  bathed, by another
woman, was a new experience for her. Perhaps she may have  enjoyed it if Layla
had been kneeling next to the bath instead.
Rose had  almost finished when she smiled and rubbed her hand down the girl'
s belly,  forcing her fingers between her closed thighs.
Elise was mortified. How dare  this woman... this black woman... this
maid...  touch her in such an  intimate manner! She wanted to protest, but the
threat of the crop forced her to  rethink the situation. Instead, Elise
gritted her teeth and allowed herself to  be fondled. Rose took full advantage,
squeezing the girl's delicate clit between  her fingers, then sniggering when
she was unable to keep from crying out in  pain.
"There you like that don't you, little slut?" Rose purred.
Elise  ignored her.
Rose pinched her once more, then leaning down, hissed in her  ear, "I said,
you like that don't you, little slut?"
Elise cried out again,  then pursed her lips before replying, "Yes, Rose."
"Rose knows what little  sluts like."
Elise braced herself, waiting for the ordeal to end. Yes, she  enjoyed
being touched by another woman, and yes, confusing as it was for her,  she had
indeed discovered the sweet pleasure of pain last night, but pleasure  only
by the hand of the lovely Layla, not by that of this harpy . For a moment,
Elise closed her eyes and managed to block Rose out of her mind, letting her
thoughts drift -- she remembered the dress her mistress had worn last night,
and  how shiny her dark hair looked, how her perfume smelled so sweet and
intoxicating.... Oh yes.... Oh no... now what was that insolent maid doing?
Elise was jolted back to the present as Rose pushed a finger deep inside
her  vagina.
"What's the matter bitch, you ain't never been finger fucked  before?"
Rose
enquired, laughing and then, mercifully, removing her hand.  "Alright, we
haven't
got time for games now. Get out and dry yourself off"
For the first time since meeting Rose, Elise happily obeyed her. She patted
 herself dry, then wrapping the towel around herself, walked out into the
bedroom.
"You will put this on," Rose told her, holding up a black lace  corset.
Elise let the towel drop away, then exchanged it with Rose for the  corset.
She turned away and stepped into it, pulling it up over her legs and  body,
then cupping her breasts and giving them a gentle shake to ensure they
weren't caught at all.
"Here, let me help you with that." Rose grabbed hold  of the laces at the
back and began to pull.
"Ouch! Not so tight!" Elise  protested.
"This is how Mistress Layla likes it. Now the stocking."
Elise moved to sit down on the bed.
"No, stand, I want to watch you put  them on."
Elise's eyes narrowed -- How dare this woman treat her this way!  She
grabbed the stocking from the maid's hands and slowly rolled them up her  legs,
smoothing them with her hands, while avoiding all eye contact with the  other
woman.
"Oh, yes, you do have good legs don't you, little whore?" Rose  grinned
and moved closer to Elise, rubbing both her hands over the girls thighs.  She
tilted her head to one side and flicked her tongue out to almost touch  Elise
's mouth.
Elise was disgusted and immediately stepped back and made a  little
sniffing sound. "What else am I to wear?"
"Oh, how very forgetful of  me, Miss Elise. Why, of course we can't have
you going down to dinner looking  like that now can we?" Rose sounded sugar
sweet as she stared down at the girl's  semi naked body. She walked over to t
he wardrobe and pulled out a pair of black  high-heeled shoes. "You'll wear
these too."
"Yes, but where's my dress?  There will be other guests. I can't possibly
go
down..."
Rose laughed,  "You are dressed, slut. Now sit down I need to take care of
your hair and face."
Elise's head was full of questions; however, for the time being, she
decided  it would be best to just do as she was told. She sat down on the end of
the bed  and allowed Rose to make her ready.
Now fully `prepared' and gazing at  herself in the mirror, she began to
feel extremely uncomfortable in the  knowledge that this was all she would be
allowed to wear tonight.
Rose  finished tidying up, then waving the crop at Elise, announced. "Well,
it's time  to go and greet the guests, Miss Elise. And you had better be on
your best  behavior."
Swallowing hard, Elise stood up and followed Rose down the stairs  and into
the hallway. `So what if Layla wants me dressed like this,' she thought
as she stared down at the floor. ` So what if she wants to have a few ladies
over for diner, and I'm one of them.'
They were about to enter the dinning  room when a masculine voice from
behind them spoke.
"Are you going to  introduce me, Rose?"
Elise spun around to see a tall blond man wearing a  dinner suit and a smug
grin, leaning up against the wall and drawing back on a  cigarette. She
blushed, and attempted to cover her sex with her hands. Her face  burned with
embarrassment.  She felt extremely uncomfortable standing there  almost
naked, in front of this suave and well-dressed man. He stubbed his  cigarette out
in a nearby pot plant and hurried to catch up with the two women.
"Good evening, Patrick," Rose said without smiling.


Chapter eight -- Master Patrick.
============================================================================

Patrick; tall, blond, handsome, thirty-something, Patrick. Women threw
themselves at this man. How many? He'd lost count. Beautiful women -- so many,
that did it really matter if he broke a few hearts? There was really only
one he  wanted, and he couldn't have her. Layla, Layla Starr.
Sure, Patrick believed  he knew why Layla had married Edward when she could
have
had him; it was for  his money! He couldn't really hold that against her. "
Why, I
would have done  the same thing, given the opportunity," he told himself.
Now,
however, that  she was free again, he couldn't quite understand why she
chose to
ignore his  advances. "She's just playing hard to get, that's it. Fucking
women,
they'll  do that to you."'
Layla still wanted him, he was certain of that. Yes, even  at the funeral
when he had held her close to comfort her, he knew it as her  breasts rubbed
up against him. She needed him. He just needed to convince her to  come to
him sooner rather than later. "Women need men; they're all the same;  they
need a good hard fucking," he knew that. "Some times they just don't
realize what they really want, that's the problem, " Patrick would say. Patrick
knew.
They had met a year prior to Layla's marriage. At first, she had  seemed
impressed with his charm and good looks, not to mention his stamina and
virility. That, however, was before Edward had come on the scene.
"How could  an old man like that satisfy a woman like Layla?" he often
wondered.  A  woman with such a delicious sexual appetite, and a craving for
the perverse and  unusual. It amazed and frustrated Patrick that they seemed
so happy together. "I  tell you, it's all just a big fucking front," he
would tell people, when the  topic of the oddly matched Stars arose at diner
parties and such.
Patrick  had been captivated by Layla from the moment they met one evening,
at a mutual  friend's house. When the hostess offered to call a taxi for
Layla, that was an  opportunity Patrick couldn't let pass. "Please, allow me
to drive you home," he  said, flashing her one of his famous smiles.
She accepted.
On the way  home they had talked. Patrick told her all about himself. Of
course, he had been  aware of all those subtle messages. The way she crossed
her legs.  The way  she smiled. Little things that he prided himself in
noticing.
Upon arriving  at her home, he had done the gentlemanly thing and walked
around to open her car  door, however as she stepped out he had pushed her
down on the car hood, holding  his body down on her.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!"
"Just  shut up bitch. I know what you want!" he told her, grabbing the
inside of her  right thigh, then rubbing his fingers up between her stockinged
legs.
Layla  struggled to free herself, then slapped him hard across his face.
For a  fleeting moment, he was stunned. His cheek stung. He hesitated,
lifting himself  off her, then grinning, responded by pressing his lips down
hard against hers,  and forcing his tongue deep inside her warm mouth.
She thrashed about,  trying to push him off, but his strength overpowered
her.  She bit down. A  muffled cry escaped him and he immediately pulled
away, reeling back in pain.
"That's what you get for trying to mess with Layla," she told him with a
smug grin as she watched his face contort in pain.
Wiping his fingers across  his lips, he realised the bitch had drawn blood.
He took a deep breath. He  lunged forward and grabbed the front of her
blouse, ripping it wide open, to  confirm what he already suspected; she wasn't
wearing a bra.
Layla gasped  and glared at him. Her body visibly tensed as she stood
there, her naked breasts  rising and falling with each hot breath. Then, using
both hands, she grabbed at  his belt and began franticly unbuckling it...
For the next six weeks they  had been almost inseparable, then Edward
appeared.  Within weeks, she lost  all interest in her latest young stud, who was
left shattered and bewildered.  "And just when she was beginning to learn
exactly how to please me," he told  himself.
Within a month she had married the older and wiser Edward. His  sexual
prowess had simply been no match for the younger and less experienced  Patrick.


Chapter nine - The Dinner Party
============================================================================

Dinner  was almost always a formal affair at the Starr's house. That
was the way Edward  had liked it, and that was the way Layla insisted it
continue.
Rose opened  the dinning room doors. Just as soon as she entered, the quiet
hum of  conversation that could be heard only moments earlier ceased as all
eyes focused  on the semi naked girl standing there, looking so awkward and
uncomfortable.
Patrick slipped in behind them and took a seat between Layla and an
attractive blonde with broad shoulder and heavy breasts who sat to her left.  Next
to the blonde, a rather small man sat looking down and fidgeting with his
table napkin.  Opposite them, a couple of women dressed in matching evening
gowns sat close together. One leaned over and whispered to the other. The
table  had been set with fine china and silver cutlery, and a small
arrangement of  flowers and condiments had been place within reach of the guests.
Everything  looked as it should; only the end of the table had been left
completely bare.
Layla stood up and announced. "Everyone, this is Elise. Come forward so we
can all see you properly, dear."
Elise could feel her face burning. Unsure  of what to do, she stood there
blinking nervously and biting down on her lower  lip while placing her hands
across her denuded sex.
Noting this, Rose tapped  the back of the girl's hands with her crop, "
Show everyone your lovely pussy.  They all want to see it."
Flicking her eyes around the room, Elise then  moved her hands up to rest
demurely on her lower belly.
Rose walked around  behind and slipping her hands under Elise's arms, she
cupped the girl's breasts  in her large brown hands. "Note the firm tits,'
she commented, "good pert  nipples too."
Then walking around in front of Elise, she tapped the inside  of her legs
with her crop, "Spread them!"
Elise took a deep breath and  shuffled her ankles further apart.
Rose then ran her crop up and down the  insides of her thighs, tapping the
soft folds a couple of times while she  explained, "You will all note the
girl has been shaved for your viewing  pleasure. See how plump and round her
pussy lips are. The clit is rather large  for a white woman too."
Elise's eyes widened as she listened to Rose, but  then, suddenly it all
just became too much for her. Tears welled up in her eyes.  She turned and
rushed towards the door, grabbing the handle and twisting it, but  it wouldn't
open.  Feeling frustrated and humiliated, she let herself slide  down onto
her knees, hitting the door with her fist and sobbing. She heard a  clicking
sound, followed by tugging on her collar -- Rose, had attached a leash  to
it.
"I thought I told you to be on your best behavior tonight," Rose  scolded,
lifting her crop and striking it across Elise's back and ass several
times.  "Look at yourself, slut. You're a disgrace!"
Elise cried as the  crop hit down, then whimpered and cowered, waiting for
more of the same. It was  then that she heard Patrick's smooth voice
interject. "Oh, come now, Rose. Give  the girl a chance. She's new and doesn't yet
understand what is expected of  her."
Strong masculine hands gripped Elise's shoulders, lifting her up.  "Rose
just doesn't know how to treat a pretty little thing like you, does she?"
Patrick told her, gently brushing her hair back to study her face.
Sobbing  and sniffing, she nodded her head and glanced over at Rose, now
rolling her  eyes.
He gently lifted the metal leash to his lips and kissed it, then  suddenly
with one swift movement, he turned her towards the other guests and  pushed
her down onto the table. Elise gagged as he now pulled on the leash and
leaned down over her to whisper in her ear. "You want some cock don't you,
little one. You want some of my cock."
Upon hearing that man utter those  words, Elise couldn't help but feel a
little tingling sensation between her  thighs.
Of course she wanted it. "Oh, yes a man like him would be so good.  But
what about the other guests? Forget them," she thought, "nothing is going to
spoil this!"
She felt the loosening of her leash and her arms being stretch  out either
side of her. She heard a light clicking of metal and realised her  hands
were being cuffed and secured to the sides of the table. She heard another
kind of clicking. Straining her neck she could see he was removing his belt.
She  knew what was coming next. "Oh, yes, he's kinky just like Layla!"
Patrick  folded the belt in half then swung it down. Elise screamed as the
thick leather  seared her skin. "You need a man's strength; that's what you
need."
Within  minutes her tender little bottom was covered with a criss-cross of
angry red  welts. Patrick then dropped the belt onto the floor and cupping
his large hands  of her rear, gave her ass cheeks a squeeze. "Arh, yes, she
feels good and warm  now."
The other guests smiled and murmured their approval.
Elise braced  herself for more but instead heard the sound of a zipper --
yes, his cock!
"Tell everyone what you want, little one."
Elise's butt wasn't the only  thing burning now: Her face was warm from
her blush and her was pussy hot and  ready.
"I want your cock,' she managed to whisper.
"Louder! Louder so  everyone can hear," he told her.
"I want your cock," she repeated, her own  words now exciting her.
He continued to rub his hand over her ass cheeks,  caressing and massaging
them, then gently parting them.
She felt the smooth  heat of his cock drop down against her. She closed her
eyes to block out her  surroundings. She waited...
At first she thought he must have been overly  anxious to enter her, but
then suddenly she realized that he wasn't going to  fuck her pussy. Oh no --
he wanted her ass!
"No! Please no!" she begged;  however, her pleads were rewarded with
several slaps to her ass. She tried to  close her legs, but it was futile. Patrick
's had no intention of allowing her to  do any such thing until he had what
he wanted.
He pressed his cock head hard  up against her ass, then drew back slightly
before forcing the tip inside her  tight little virgin hole.
"This will be a whole lot easier for you if you  just co-operate," he
warned, but Elise just wasn't convinced. She looked up at  Layla at he end of
the table, who didn't seem at all concerned as she sipped on  her wine and
watched.
Patrick withdrew his cock, and for a moment Elise  relaxed. Suddenly she
felt another lash to her ass.
"Beg for it, bitch.  Everyone wants to hear how much you really want it,"
he told her.
Tears  streamed down her cheeks and though heavy sobs she managed to beg, "
Please..."
He pulled away slowly then grunting, he rammed his cock inside her. Elise
screamed as her hole stretched tightly around his rigid cock. Now gripping
her  hips firmly, he grinned and began pumping faster, ramming back and forth
with  his hard cock. Unbelievably, her clit began to throb and beg for
contact. She  opened her mouth and was about to beg again. She wanted to tell
him "please stop  and feel my swollen clit! Please use my aching pussy instead,
" but before she  had a chance to speak, a silk handkerchief had been
stuffed into her mouth. His  grunting increased with each thrust, and he started
to push deeper. Only mute  cries could be heard from behind Elise's gag. He
rammed his cock in and out,  closing his eyes, aware only of his own
depraved pleasure as his cock throbbed  and pulsed. He pushed himself up against
her until his body was pressing against  her ass.
He continued for several more minutes before making one final  thrust. As
he pulled out, his warm sperm trickled down onto her swollen pussy  lips. She
lay there on the table, sobbing and panting through her nose.
"You  see... You all see what the whore wanted -- didn't you?" Patrick
announced as if  trying to justify what he had just done.
"Honestly, Patrick, you're such a  horny bastard, but you haven't
satisfied the slut yet," Layla told him. She  waved her hand towards Rose. "Finish
her off."
Upon hearing that, Elise  braced her body for more pain but instead felt
Rose's long fingers stroking her  sex and inner thighs. All eyes were on her
semi-naked body now as the maid  teased her. Closing her eyes as if to try to
hide from her own embarrassment and  shame, she had little choice now but
to allow this woman to fondle and touch her  in any way she pleased. Elise
bit down on her lip, determined not to show the  slightest pleasure. However,
as Rose gently pinched and pulled her clit, no  amount of will power could
stop Elise from feeling the thrill of being used like  that. She hated Rose
for hurting and violating her!  She hated her for  using her like that! But
most of all she hated her for having that kind of  control -- for making her
feel so good about something so bad. Elise drew on all  her strength, but
when Rose suddenly plunged her middle and index fingers deep  inside Elise's
vagina, all sense of modesty left her. Elise closed her eyes and  cried out as
again and again. Each thrust seemed to penetrate deeper, as she
entertained and amused the guesses with her desperate struggle not to climax.  Within
a few minutes, however, she lost all control and gave in to her own
perverse pleasure. Feeling ashamed and embarrassed by what had occurred, she lay
there as the guests talked.
"She didn't come like that for you," the woman  sitting next to Patrick
smirked.
Honestly, Layla love, where do you keep  finding these sweet little sluts?"
When at last she was released, Elise  crawled to the corner of the room and
curling herself up, and remained there  quietly, but for an occasional
sniff or sob while the others finished eating.  They talked about the weather,
politics, and things in general, but nothing more  was said to, or, about
Elise. The food smelt good, but Elise no longer felt  hungry.
Everyone sitting at the table had finished eating when Layla  beckoned her.
"Please, come to me, little one."
She looked around but  saw no chair to sit on. Layla beckoned to her again
to come closer, then pointed  to the floor between herself and Patrick.
Since she was already kneeling, Elise  crawled over to her Mistress. Layla then
picked a piece of meat from her plate  and offered it to Elise, who lifted
her hand to take it. "Oh, no," Layla said,  "not like that," and she gently
pushed it into the girl's mouth, letting her  finger stroke her tongue as
she did so. Layla fed her several more pieces of  food off her plate as she
continued to chat with her guests before waving her  back to the corner.
It was after midnight when eventually the guests left.  Elise listened as
they exchanged their good byes. She was about to get up and go  to her room
when Layla walked back into the dining room.
"You did very well  tonight, little Elise," she told her, sitting down and
once again beckoning the  girl closer. Elise gave her a little smile and
moved towards the chair. Layla  looked down and smiled back, brushing the
loose wisps of hair back from her  face, then pressing Elise's head down onto
her lap.
The warmth of Layla's  legs felt good against Elise's cheek and so she
placed her hand on Layla's knee  also.
"Men are like that you know, little Elise. They will hurt you. They  don't
always mean to, but they will." Layla continued to stroke Elise's face. "I
 will hurt you too, but when I do, it will always be for your own good. You
 understand that don't you, Elise?"
Elise nodded. She was more confused than  ever, but for now she was content
to continue enjoying her Mistress's tender  touch.


Chapter Ten -- Daddy's Little  Princess
============================================================================

Two  people lay, side by side, upon a grassy knoll surrounded by
poppies and  cornflowers on a clear spring day. One, the man, sat up and gazed
lovingly down  at his little daughter as she basked in the late afternoon sun.
"You see  over there, my little princess? Over that hill is a lovely
castle. One day, when  you're all grown up, a handsome prince will come to carry
you away on his fine  white horse and you'll live happily ever after," he
told her.
Little Elise  lifted herself up on to her elbows to gaze over the colorful
fields, then  frowned and turned to look up at her father. "But what about
you daddy? Won't  you come and live with us?"
"Of course I will, princess."
Of course he  never did.
Parenthood had suited Elise's mother even less than marriage. She  was
young and beautiful, wild and independent. Life with Elise's father had
initially been a thrilling new adventure, however, within a very short time, she
had become restless. He had hoped a child might hold her. That caring for
something so small and precious would some how change her. How could anyone
have  not adore little Elise?
He stared down at the child lying next to him. Her  long lashes fluttered
as she squinted into the sunlight and her soft lips formed  a sweet smile.
How could her mother have left so soon after the baby's birth?
Can one miss what they have never known? If growing up without a mother
left  a void in Elise's life, her father was determined she would want for
nothing  else.  Whether it was something as simple as an ice cream or as
extravagant  as her pet pony, daddy's little princess always got what she wanted.
Then,  one month short of Elise's sixteenth birthday, it all changed.
Nothing would be  the same between them ever again the day he married Jean.
Everything would  have been perfect if it hadn't been for her. How could
her father just let that  woman take over their lives? How could he do that to
his little princess? Fuck  Jean! Why did her father have to be so weak?
Elise stared out of the window  to the lovely gardens below. Silently she
recalled Layla's words: "Men are like  that you know. They will hurt you.
They don't always mean to..." A single tear  trickled down her cheek; then, she
whispered, "...but they will."


Chapter Eleven -- The Training
============================================================================

The  following weeks Elise discovered exactly how life would be until
Mistress Layla  chose to release her. Each morning Rose would come in to her
room, and place a  breakfast tray on the bedside table before opening the
curtains and allowing the  sunlight to stream in. "Enjoy your breakfast, Miss
Elise," she would say, and  then she would leave. Upon returning a little
later she would follow Elise into  the bathroom. Rose never spoke, preferring
instead to observe her washing  herself in unnerving silence.
Elise had been allowed to choose a whole new  wardrobe of beautiful and
expensive clothes and accessories; however, during her  training, she was
always forced to remained naked but for a leather collar  around her neck and
matching straps around her wrists and ankles. Each band had  a metal ring
attached. "I'm sure you're wondering what those are for." Rose told  her. "
Well, little slut, they're to keep you secured when you're not feeling..."  She
hesitated, thinking for a moment before smirking and adding, "...quite as
co-operative as we might require you to be."
Before commencing her first  session, Rose reminded her of a few basic
rules that Elise would need to  remember, or pay a painful price for forgetting.
"You're here to please  Mistress Layla. You're here for her pleasure and
use for as long as she chooses  to keep you. Do yourself a favor: don't even
think about trying to leave before  we are ready to release you. There is no
telephone here, and I'm sure you're  already aware that we are a long way
from town."
Elise understood the  hopelessness of her situation only too well.
Each day she would be required  to crawl around the room as Rose held the
end of her leash. Often Rose would tap  or slap her ass if she felt the girl
was not holding her head up or crawling  correctly. When that exercise had
been completed, Elise would sit on the floor  with her knees spread wide.
Often she would be made to sit like that for a  couple of hours. "It's all
part of your training," Rose would tell her, "a good  little slut must be
disciplined."
A good little slut? Elise failed to see  how sitting for long periods like
that could possibly improve her ability to  please, sexually or otherwise.
It bored her and it made her back ache. One  evening, on one of the rare
occasions when Rose was not in attendance and Layla  appeared to be in a
congenial mood, Elise questioned her about it. "Rose knows  best," was all Layla
would say.
Often as she sat there, Rose would sit  behind her on the bed. Many times
she would just watch; other times she would  read a magazine or book. Elise
could never be sure what she was doing. Only  occasionally she would hear a
page turn and perhaps a little chuckle if Rose  happened to find something
that amused her.
When Rose felt she had sat there  long enough, she would stand up and offer
the girl her index finger, instructing  her, "lick it, little slut."
At first Elise had been unsure of this strange  ritual. Timidly she had
flicked her tongue out to let it touch the tip of Rose's  finger. It tasted
salty and felt dry.
"No, no, not like that! Let your mouth  relax. Wet your tongue first."
Elise swallowed and made a conscience effort  to coat her tongue with
saliva before lapping at Rose's finger a second time. It  slid easily from
between her lips over Rose's finger, and so she did it again.
"Now suck it, just the tip to begin with," Rose instructed her.
And so,  enveloping Rose's finger between her lips, Elise closed her eyes
let her  thoughts drift. Yes, this was Layla's firm and sweet clit. She
pouted and sucked  a little harder. Soon her tongue began darting in and out,
twirling, swirling,  and extending further than she had thought possible. Warm
saliva began dripping  down her chin, as she became more adept at keeping
her mouth moist while  sucking. In an odd sense, Elise felt rather proud of
her newly acquired  skill.
It took a little time, but with uncharacteristic patience, Rose taught  her
how to use her mouth and tongue in ways Elise could never have envisaged.
Elise now felt confident that when summoned she would be more than capable
of  pleasing her mistress.
After days of training and practice her progress  satisfied Rose. "Now it'
s time to learn a new trick. You may touch yourself for  me."
Elise blushed. "You mean here, Rose? In front of you?"
Rose rolled  her eyes. "Yes, that's exactly what I mean. It will please
your mistress and her  friends to watch you pleasure yourself, but I need to
be sure you do it  properly. "
Elise had masturbated many times before but always privately.  Certainly
she had done it `properly', if indeed there was such a thing. Taking a  deep
breath, she gingerly slipped one hand down between her legs to confirm what
they both already knew -- that her pussy had become good and wet. She looked
up  at Rose, who was peering down upon her nakedness, and cringed.
"I can't do  it!"
"You little fool!" Rose grabbed Elise's wrist and forced her hand down
between her open thighs. "Haven't you realized by now there's no room for
your  ridiculous modesty around here."
Elise felt her face burning. Tears began to  well up in her eyes as Rose,
gripping her hand, forced Elise's fingers in and  out of her wet pussy.
"Please don't..." Elise begged, but her pleads were  ignored.
"That's a good little slut. You like that don't you?"
"I...  I..."
Rose chuckled. Her actions were soon to be accompanied by the  squelching
sounds of Elise's juicy cunt.
"Good, now continue by yourself,"  Rose told her, pulling away and
standing up.
Again Elise hesitated.
"I've had just about as much of your prissy behavior as I'm going to take,
 slut." Rose lunged forward to pinch Elise's erect nipples between her
fingers  and thumbs. Elise's face contorted in pain and she cried out as Rose
squeezed  and twisted. "Now work those fucking fingers of yours!"
Her face wet with  tears, Elise sniffed and slowly pushed her middle and
index fingers inside her  pussy. Despite her humiliation, it felt good and so
she pressed them in a little  further. She looked up at Rose, now licking
her lips and audibly panting as she  focused on sweet young girl before her.
Elise took a deep breath, then bit  down on her lower lip and began pumping
in and out in a slow rhythmic motion.  Within minutes she could felt her
hard little clit rubbing against her palm, and  the unmistakable scent of her
sex wafted though the air.
She didn't want to  enjoy herself. She didn't want to give Rose that
satisfaction. She moaned.  The overpowering sensation of her arousal burnt
between her legs and a  trickle of warm sweat ran down between her breasts.
"I
won't do it. I won't  climax!" she told herself in silent defiance.
However, as
her hand rubbed  over her smoothly shaven sex and her fingers penetrated
deeper,
she realized  that would be almost impossible. The heat between her legs
now
radiated up  her body. It made her cunt ache and nipples tingle. Ignoring
the
fact that  she was being watched, she closed her eyes and began fucking
herself
harder.  Oh, yes, she was so close. Fuck that bitch, Rose. Any second now
she
would  have to...
Suddenly Elise's hand jerked and her mouth dropped open releasing  an
agonizing cry as the burning lash of Rose's whip licked across her backside.
"I didn't give you permission to cum!"
"Please, Rose. Please may I cum?"  Elise begged, still holding her hand
between her thighs.
"Oh, so you want to  finger yourself now, do you?" Rose smirked. "I don't
think you really know what  you want. How fortunate for you that Rose does.
Yes, Rose knows what little  sluts need." Then tapping the back of Elise's
hand, she added, "remove you hand  and keep your legs spread."
Elise hesitated.
Rose slapped the back of the  girl's hand with her crop.
Elise winced and pulled it away. Perhaps if she  co-operated Rose would leav
e her alone to finish what she had started.
"Show  me your fingers," Rose demanded.
Once again Elise felt her face burning with  embarrassment. She lifted her
sticky wet fingers. Rose immediately snatched them  up, leaned over and
slowly licked each one with her thick tongue. Elise  instinctively tried to draw
her hand back; however, Rose grinned and kept her  firm grip while
continuing to lick. Again Elise tried to pull away. This time  Rose released it.
"You taste good, slut."
Then looping her fingers into  the ring attached to Elise's collar she
dragged the girl across the room. Elise  spluttered, as her collar pulled and
tightened around her neck. Rose released  her grip then stood there shimmying
up her skirt before sitting on the edge of  the bed. Elise immediately
recoiled. She could clearly see, from her position on  the floor, that the woman
wasn't wear any panties! Her large purplish colored  clit, covered with a
frothy stickiness, protruded from between thick smooth  flaps like some kind
of grotesque mutant flower. Elise reeled back, only to have  Rose tangle her
fingers though her hair, and pull her forward again, forcing the  girl's
face between her muscular legs.
"Lick, little slut, just like I  trained you."
Elise inhaled deeply as if by holding her breath she might  spare herself
some of the revulsion.
Rose smelled clean but with a very  distinct and strong scent of arousal.
Elise parted her lips and pressed her  mouth against Rose's cunt. As that
oversized clit filled Elise's mouth, she  couldn't help but be amazed at its
size.
"That's a good little slut. Use your  tongue now."
Closing her eyes, Elise extended her tongue and lapped at the  underside of
Rose's clit before tasting the tip.
"Now use your whole  mouth."
As she sucked Rose's clit between her lips and teeth she could feel  it
throbbing
against the roof of her mouth and tongue. "Bite it! Bite the  bitch!" she
told
herself in an instance of loathing. "Yes, now..."
"Oh,  yes, you're such a good little slut."
"Yes, I'm good," Elise reminded  herself. "I'm very good, and good little
sluts do as they're told." She  continued the tongue fucking with expert
ease. Opening and closing her mouth,  Elise pouted her lips up against the
plump flesh, slurping at Rose's wet cunt as  if she were enjoying a ripe
peach. Then as she felt the woman's body quivering  with heated excitement, an
odd feeling of pride and power filled her.
Rose  lay back on the bed, resting on her elbows and panting like a bitch
in heat. She  tossed her head back, her upper lip curled, she moaned then let
out a labored  cry. A rush a warm fluid shot out of her, wetting Elise's
face and dripping down  her chin. Rose had climaxed.
Elise's back ached and she felt sweaty and  dirty. It all felt like a
disgusting dream; however, now that she had endured  this humiliation perhaps she
would be left alone? Yes, as soon as Rose had gone,  she would take a bath,
a long hot bath to rid herself of this woman's touch and  smell.
Rose stood up and smoothed her skirt down over her hips and legs. She  then
sat down on the bed again and addressed Elise: "You will stay there with
your back straight, your head up and your legs spread for an hour." She
glanced  at her watch, "your time begins now."


Chapter Twelve -- A Single  Rose
============================================================================

To  love someone so much that you can't bear not be around them and yet
to know that  you can never hold on to them, is a terrible curse.
Rose leaned up against  the doorway and gazed in at the two women, each so
totally immersed in the  other's pleasure that neither noticed her standing
there.
"Oh, yes! Yes,  just like that, my sweet little slut." Layla gripped the
ends of the armrests  and, closing her eyes, tossed her head back, allowing
her long silky hair to  cascade down behind the chair. Her lovely face, now
glistening with delicate  perspiration, flushed with pleasure.
Elise's soft brown curls gently bounced  as her head bobbed between Layla'
s open legs, one hand placed on her mistress's  knee and the other rubbing
and prodding her own sweet pussy.
"Elise, my  sweet little slut, Rose has taught you well. Oh, yes! Yes... so
very  well!"
Upon hearing those words, a rush of pride filled Rose, and her lips  formed
a faint smile. Once again she had been responsible for Layla's enjoyment,
and nothing could possibly please her more.
Rose had been attracted to Layla  the moment they had met. In the weeks
that followed, she had been powerless not  fall in love with her employer's
wife.  Night after night she would lay in  bed, fantasizing about Layla. Day
after day her heart would break as she watched  Edward and Layla together.
To care for someone so much that nothing else  matters except their
happiness... how many people experience that in their  lifetime? Rose knew that kind
love. To be able to comfort and care for Layla and  have her depend on her
for so much was an honor and privilege that Rose would  have to always suffer.
The day Edward died Rose felt her heart would surely  break -- but not for
him -- for Layla.
Treasured memories of that evening when  Rose had comforted and then
seduced Layla came flooding back, and for a moment  in her mind's eye, she
imagined herself sitting there with her mistress instead  of Elise. She smiled
wryly. A beautiful creature like Layla could never have  feelings for a woman
like her.  Rose knew that, and so she had never spoken  of that night since.
She stared wistfully at her mistress for a moment  longer before quietly
moving away from the door. Earlier Layla had mentioned she  might like a
chocolate torte for dessert. Rose would need to begin preparing it  soon... And
her bed... Rose had noticed the jasmine was now in bloom... Layla might  like
some sprinkled on her sheets... And the air was beginning to cool... Rose  would
needed to fetch a bucket of kindling in case Layla may need a fire to warm
herself later... Yes, there was always so much to do.


Chapter Thirteen - The  Gamble
============================================================================

"Mistress Layla and her guests will be playing cards this evening. You
'll be  required to keep them company," Rose explained to Elise as they
entered the  sitting room.
"And what a delightful little piece of company she is," a  masculine voice
from behind startled both women. A smug blond man, wearing a  dark dinner
suit, tapped the tips of his fingers together and relaxed back in an
armchair next to the door.
"Good evening, Master Patrick," Elise said,  without smiling, as she
recalled the last time she had seen him. Her poor little  ass had been sore for
days afterwards.
Rose ignored him.
"You know,  Rose," he said, now rubbing one finger across his chin, "I've
fucked uglier  bitches than you." He smirked and then added, "only they
all barked and wagged  their tails."
Rose stopped and took a deep breath as if trying to contain her  anger
before addressing Elise again. "Stay here. I'll be back in a moment. Don't  let
that man near you." Then turning to Patrick, "Keep your filthy hands of
her."
He frowned and gave Rose a look of mock disappointment. She had no  sooner
left the room than he stood up walked over to Elise, who was crossing her
arms in a useless attempt to cover her bare breasts; his mere presence made
her  feel uncomfortable.
"You don't look at all pleased to see me," he told her,  standing over her
so his warm breath caressed her neck, while he playfully  tugged at her
g-string.
"That's because I'm not."
"Oh, come on,  sweetheart. It's not my fault Layla won't let me fuck your
pussy."
Elise shot  him a puzzled look.
"That's right. She doesn't like my fucking her little  girls." He moved
even closer. His nose now touched her ear as he stroked the  side of her arm
with the back of his fingers. "Don' t you know? She wants your  sweet pussy
all for herself," he whispered.
"I thought I told you to keep  your hands off her!" Rose returned,
carrying a tray of sandwiches, which she  slammed down on the table.
"Such blatant disrespect!" Patrick retorted in  mock disgust. "I know what
you need Rose." Turning to her, he gripped the front  of his crotch and
jerked his hips forward a couple of times.
"Fuck off,  Patrick."
Elise was astonished to hear Rose say that, and even more so that  Patrick
didn't seem fazed by it. Instead, he calmly walked back to where he had
been sitting.  He picked up the glass from the table beside the chair and  took
a sip, before turning to Elise again, "She just needs a nice big bone to
lick. "
Rose rolled her eyes and let out an audible huff. "Help yourself to  a
drink, why don't you?" Then addressing Elise again, " Come here, girl."
Happy to obey, Elise quickly moved well away from Patrick. Rose grabbed the
 end of her leash and gave it a couple of quick downward tugs. "Sit!" she
commanded.  Elise dropped down on the floor with her back straight and her
hands resting on her thighs.
Rose wasn't really difficult to get used to.  Over the past few weeks Elise
had learned the secret to pleasing her was  pleasing Layla, and that
usually wasn't at all an unpleasant task. Apart from  her `training' Elise had
most of the day to herself--free to roam the house and  gardens, watch a little
television, or do pretty well whatever she pleased. Most  evenings were
spent with Layla.  Although her kinky ways often involved  whipping or spanking
Elise, that too wasn't difficult to get used to. In fact,  hard as it was
for her to comprehend, Elise frequently found herself becoming  aroused even
at the thought of being used or punished by her mistress. The  attention
Layla paid her and the intensity of her enjoyment were like nothing  Elise had
ever experienced before. It was as if her pain fed Layla's arousal and  her
mistress's pleasure fed hers in a feast of lust. Soon voices could be heard
outside. A man and woman Elise hadn't seen before entered, followed by
Layla.  They greeted each other warmly, hugging and rubbing cheeks while
ignoring Elise,  who remained kneeling. She had a feeling it would be a long
evening; however,  remaining in this position was no longer a problem for her.
Hours of training by  Rose had taught her to relax her muscles while remaining
perfectly still.
The four of them sat down at the table and began to deal the cards. More
than an hour passed. Layla and her guests continued to play, speaking to one
another only occasionally in whispered tones. Elise begun to wonder why
exactly  her presence had been required at all when she heard Patrick announce
triumphantly:
"That's it. I win!"
Standing up he turned to give Elise a  lecherous grin. Her stomach began to
churn.
"I'm sorry Elise, but a deal's a  deal," Layla explained; however, her
cool manner totally denied the apology.  "Patrick's won, and his prize shall
be to have you suck his cock. "
Elise  stifled a smile. She had been sure, when she had seen Patrick
hastily unzipping  his trousers, that she would once again be required to allow
him to fuck her  ass. A feeling a relief tinged with excitement now filled
her. It had been so  long since she had experienced the enjoyment of a man's
cock in her mouth -- she  stared -- and his was hard, hot and ready!
He moved closer, standing right in  font of her, his cock a mere lick away.
Grabbing her hair he jerked her head  back, forcing her mouth to drop open.
He then smiled down at her and told her:  "Ah, what sweet lips you have.
Lips that just begs to be fucked without speaking  a single word."
Elise panted with heated excitement, her breasts rising and  falling with
each breath, as Patrick teased and tempted her with his engorged  and
throbbing cock.
"Suck it," he commanded, grabbing his shaft and pushing  his cock head
into her mouth.
Immediately she enveloped her soft lips around  it and began eagerly
sucking.  Rose may have taught her many new skills,  but when it came to sucking a
man's cock, Elise was no amateur. Hungrily she  slurped, her tongue
flicking in and out under his cock while her teeth gently  grazed his shaft each
time he drew back.  It felt so good to have her mouth  filled by a man again.
Within minutes Elise became immersed in her own pleasure,  and she let one
hand slip down between her open thighs.
"Get your hand off  your cunt!" Patrick wrenched his cock from her mouth
and scowled down at her.  "Who the fuck gave you permission to touch
yourself, slut?  Well?"
Elise  was dumbfounded. She had never had a man do, or say, that to her
before.
"I  thought you would enjoy..."
"I told you to suck my cock." He then looked over  at the others still
sitting at the table. "Did any of you hear me tell the slut  to finger her cunt?
"
Soft murmurs of disapproval confirmed that indeed Elise  hadn't been given
any such permission.
Patrick whipped out the belt from his  trousers, then folding it in half,
walked around behind Elise and hit it across  her ass.
The leather lashed across her soft flesh with searing heat. She  cried out
and arched her back while remaining on her knees. He knelt down behind  her,
roughly grabbing her arms, then securing her hands with his belt behind her
 back.
He then stood up and walked around in front of her and once again,
grabbing a handful of her hair, jerked her head back. "Let's try this again," he
told her, holding his cock in his other hand.
This time he shoved it deep  inside her mouth. His rough pubic hair rubbed
on her nose, and his cool balls  slapped against her chin. She gagged as it
hit the back of her throat, but he  ignored her. Impatiently, he thrust his
cock in and out as if wanting her to  swallow the whole fucking thing. Tears
began to stream down her cheeks and  muffled cries could be heard to escape
each time he drew his cock out only to  thrust it forward again.
His upper lip curled, and he sneered as he looked  down at her. He wanted
Layla to see what she was missing -- yes, his fabulous big  cock! Fuck her!
Why did this little whore get to enjoy Layla and not him? Fuck  the little
whore!
He closed his eyes. His face contorted and, then with a  couple of deep
angry thrusts, he filled her mouth with his hot seed. Elise  swallowed, but
much of the warm milky fluid still dripped down her chin and onto  her bare
breasts as he withdrew. It tasted salty, just like she remembered it  should,
only this time it made her want to gag. She slumped over, panting and
gasping for breath. It had not been the enjoyable experience she had been  looking
forward to at all.
"What's the matter, slut? Was my cock too big for  you?" he teased, then
turning to Layla, "You see what you're missing out on?"
The others at the table chuckled.
Rose's eyes narrowed, and she clenched  her teeth as she watched him in
total loathing and contempt. Any man's cock was  too big, especially for Layla'
s delicate mouth. No, Layla didn't need his  fucking cock in her mouth or
any other place. She looked down at Elise, now  softly sobbing, and knelt
down next to her.  Then taking a handkerchief  from her pocket she gently wiped
over Elise's chin.  The girl didn't need a  man's cock either! ~~~~ The
next morning Rose assisted Elise in her bath,  kneeling beside the tub,
holding the sponge over Elise, and letting the water  trickled down over her pale
skin.
"You know you really are quite lovely --  too good for men. Men will use
you. They just want somewhere to stick their  filthy cocks."
Previously, Elise would have laughed at such a rash statement;  however,
now she began to believe Rose might just be right. Yes, she was good --  too
good for any man.


Chapter Fourteen -- A Company of  Three
============================================================================

Elise  stood there naked but for her collar. The rooms upstairs had
felt pleasantly  warm. She wondered if perhaps it was the cool air of the
dungeon now caused her  body to shiver, or perhaps her nervous anticipation? As
Layla and Rose talked  Elise squeezed her thighs together and felt a familiar
dampness.  Tiny  goose bumps began to form on her breasts and upper arms;
her nipples now tingled  and stood erect. As hard as it was for her to
understand, the mere presence of  these two women aroused excitement in her unlike
anything she had experienced  previously.
"Did she feel wet when you woke her this morning?"
"Yes,  quite damp."
Elise had in fact awoken to the sensation of Rose's fingers  poking between
her legs. Certainly she would have established her wetness in a  matter of
seconds; however, Rose had chosen caress her for several minutes,  pressing
her index finger deep inside, wriggling it about and then rubbing the  girl'
s clit and outer labia. Layla turned her attention to Elise, smiling and
tapping her between her legs with the crop. "Spread your legs." Anxious to
please her mistress, Elise shuffled her ankles further apart. Layla cupped
her  warm hand over Elise's baby smooth mound. "You want to touch yourself
now, don't  you, little slut?"
"I think I would enjoy that, Mistress."
"Oh? You would  enjoy it? And you think your enjoyment is important?"
"No, what I meant was..."
Layla's eyes narrowed as she moved closer, lowering her voice to a whisper
as her lips almost touched Elise's ear, "Your sweet pussy belong to me
now. It  is for my pleasure and use, not yours. If and when I choose to allow
you that  pleasure it will be for my pleasure, not yours." She then walked
around behind  Elise, swinging her crop high into the air then lashing it down
across the back  of the girl's legs.
Elise cried out. Tears began to well in her eyes, but  otherwise she
remained still as almost immediately a long red welt began to form  on her pale
skin.
"You've been touching yourself without permission haven't  you, slut?" "
No, Mistress. I wouldn't do that."
"Fucking little liar! Rose  just told me you were wet when she woke you
this morning!"
Since coming to  live at Layla's house Elise often masturbated before
falling asleep in bed. She  had been told not to, but sometimes the urge was just
too much. Up until now  neither her mistress nor the maid had objected to
her surreptitious late night  activities. Unsure of why it was a problem now,
and afraid of being punished,  Elise began to spiral into panic. "Please,
Mistress, please forgive this little  slut!" she begged, dropping onto her
knees and grasping the back of Layla's  boots.
"Forgive you? Why of course I will forgive you, little one... Layla  smiled
down at her, then added, "after I have punished you." Elise felt  helpless.
Obviously, her mistress intended to punish her, and it would be  useless to
try to reason otherwise. "Bring the slut over here to the spanking  chair,
Rose," Layla instructed.
The spanking chair -- it wasn't really a  chair at all., it was more like a
bench.  Made of wood, it was raised high  enough from the floor for a girl,
like Elise, to stand before it and bend over  at the waist. Two large holes
had been cut out of one end, where her breasts  would hang through. Metal
cuffs, attached by chains to each wooden leg almost at  floor level, would be
where Elise's hand and feet would be anchored. Rose pushed  Elise down onto
it, then when she had finished securing the cuffs she gave her a  playful
slap on the ass. "It's time for your lesson now!"
The first stroke  hit hard across the back of her legs causing Elise to
instinctively try to rear  up. The chain, however, prevented any such escape.  "
There, you didn't like  that did you, little slut?" Layla quipped,
instantly flicking her ass twice  more. "Think about it as you take you pain,
Elise. You belong to me now. You and  your sweet cunt are all mine!"
Tears began to trickle down the girl's face.  Her body ached, and her ass
soon
became covered in hot stinging welts, but  in her head things were becoming
clearer. Elise had been a bad girl, and bad  girls must be punished. Elise
must
please Mistress Layla. Oh, the pain, the  pleasure the thin line between
the two
began to melt as Elise drifted into  sweet euphoria. "Oh, Mistress ..."


Chapter Fifteen -- The Challenge.
============================================================================

Elise  jumped as she heard someone at the back kitchen door. She had
only slipped down  stairs for cup of tea and something to eat, and had not
bothered to wear more  than her panties and bra. The deliveryman and cleaning
staff usually came on  Fridays. But then, `It's that ugly old, Arthur, the
gardener,' she told herself,  rolling her eyes. Several times she had spied
him peeking in through the  windows, as he pretended to be tending to the
roses. He often came inside for a  glass of water. In fact, Elise was convinced
he must have a most overworked  bladder for the amount he drank some days.
Rarely would he bother to knock --  "Oh, dear, I'm so sorry. I didn't
realize anyone was here," he would lie, then  he would linger and take his time
sipping from his glass while having a good  long lecherous look! Elise
grinned, this time she was going to give the old boy  something to really get
excited about. She lifted herself up onto the kitchen  bench next to the sink,
then spreading her legs wide, began rubbing both hands  up and down the
insides of her smooth thighs, moaning as she ran her wet tongue  over her moist
pink lips.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" A faint  gasp escaped Elise's mouth
as she blinked and jerked her hand away. I was indeed  a shock to see
Patrick stroll in.  Immediately she slapped her legs  together and frowned.
"What are you doing here?" she snarled.
"That's  hardly any way to greet me now, is it?"
"You shouldn't even be  here."
"Can't a man call on his friends?"
"You should have used the front  door."
Patrick shrugged, then taking a chair, sat down and leaned back,  casually
lifting one booted foot up and resting it on the table. "I didn't feel
like using the front door. Besides, it's you I've come to see. I know how hard
 it must be for a hot little bitch like you to be cooped up here day after
day."
"Actually, I quite like it here," she lied. Patrick reached down to his
crotch and rubbed his hand over the bulge now forming in his trousers. "Even
though there's no man around here to fuck that hot little pussy of yours?"
"I  really think you should leave now," Elise said, ignoring his question,
before  slipping off the bench and walking towards the door.
Patrick, however,  quickly stood and moved to block her exit with his arm. "
But we haven't finished  our little chat yet?"
"Let me pass."
"But I just want to talk."
"I`ve  heard enough." Elise tried to push him out of her way. This rather
amused  Patrick as he moved sideways to block her path.
"You stupid little girl. You  haven't had enough of anything until I say
you have," he hissed, his congenial  mood suddenly evaporating.
Elise glared up at him as, again, she tried to  push past.
"I'll call Rose."
"Oh, you know you don't want to do that.  Besides, I saw that crazy bitch
heading out as I was coming around the back."
"Let me past!" This time, rather foolishly, she placed her hand on his
chest  and tired to force him out of her way.
He chuckled and grabbed hold of her  shoulders. "Oh, no you don't."
She squirmed to free herself, but his  strength easily over powered hers.
He grinned down at her then, as he leaned  over her, and she felt his hot
breath on her ear and neck. Again, she struggled,  but that only assisted him
in slipping her lacy bra down around her waist.  Leaning further over, he
licked her nipples with his thick tongue. It felt firm  and warm against her
soft skin, and his mouth made disgusting slurping sounds as  he lapped
hungrily at her breasts, exploring every part. Now Elise could break  free. Lashing
out like some kind of wildcat she dug her fingernails into the  sides of
his head, ripping into the flesh on his face and neck. He cried out,
immediately pulling back and touching the side of his cheek with his fingertips,
wincing at the stinging sensation.  His expression changed, he laughed and
asked, "So you like it rough do you, bitch? Ok, I can give it to you rough."
Grinning down at her and lifting his arm, `Patrick swung the back of his
hand  across the side of her face to send her tumbling helplessly across the
room.  Elise dropped to the floor, slumped over and panting to regain her
breath after  the struggle.
"Bastard!" she hissed as she held her hand to the side of her  face.
Again he grinned as he walked over to her and grabbed her hair, before
forcing her back up onto her feet and dragging her over to the kitchen table.
He  pushed her, face down, on to it. Holding her with one hand, he used the
toe of  his boot to tap between her ankles, indicating for her to spread her
legs. She  resisted -- struggling to break free. Still holding her by her
hair, he gave her  head a quick jerk, and her ass a sharp slap with his open
hand. "Spread them,  bitch!"
Still, Elise refused co-operate, squirming helplessly in a useless  attempt
to free herself. She managed to kick one heel up between his legs -- but
neither high nor fast enough. He laughed as he pulled back to avoid her foot.
"Don't worry, little girl -- I'm not interested in fucking your ass when I
can  have your sweet cunt instead."
Now pinning her down with his own body, he  slid his hand between her
thighs, rubbing up the insides of her legs, then  slipping his fingers inside her
panties to finger her moist pussy. "Mmm, I see  you are pleased to see me
after all," he smirked, leaning further over and  rubbing his wet mouth and
tongue over the side of her face.
Elise's arms  flailed about, as she hit the table with her fist. She heard
the clanking of his  belt buckle followed by the sound of his zipper coming
down.  "The bastard  thinks he's going fuck me!" she thought in angry
defiance. However, when she  felt his hard and hot cock drop against her ass, her
rage began to subside and  she silently began to reason, `It's been too
long since I've had a man's cock.  I'll just give him what he wants, Layla
doesn't have to know. I'll let him fuck  me.' But then she argued back with
herself, `No, I'm too good for this bastard!  I'm Layla's slut, not his!'
Impatiently he pulled her panties to one side to  press his warm cock head
against her moist sex, holding himself there and  savoring the moment of
power.  Maybe he would fuck her, and maybe he  wouldn't. As the dominant male,
it would be his choice, not hers. The rush of  excitement Patrick derived
from a situation like this was almost as good as the  sex itself. Of course he
was going to fuck her!
"Beg for it, slut!"
She  ignored him.
"I said beg for it, bitch!" This time he slapped her ass so  hard it left
a large red mark on her pale soft flesh. She cried out, but again
stubbornly refused to reply. Angrily, he hit his hand down on her ass several  times
more. Her panties were of a sheer fabric and offered little protection.
Soon her poor little backside stung and glowed with Patrick's full handprints.
Again he grabbed at her panties, pulling them to one side to expose her
sweet  sex. He grinned and ran the tip of his finger over her glistening cunt
lips  before plunging one inside, hooking it and giving it a little jerk.
Elise cried  out and a shot of her warm wetness spurted out onto his palm.
Patrick smirked  and drew his finger out, then lifted it to his mouth to suck it
clean, savoring  the taste for moment before pulling it out and making a
light popping sound with  his lips.
"You taste good, slut." Patrick smirked, then gripping his cock in  his
hand, he rubbed just the tip between her ass cheeks. How long had he waited
for this? He thought for a moment -- not long at all, actually -- however,
patience was one of his few virtues. Patrick was a man of action. When he saw
something he wanted he would strive to get it any cost. Every beautiful
woman  presented him with a challenge -- each a prized acquisition to be
relished and  enjoyed -- until the next one came along.
"Take it slut!" he told her as he  rammed his hard cock into her. "You
know you want it. You've been in need of a  good hard fucking ever since you
arrived here."
Elise closed her eyes. It  felt good -- so very good -- to have his
throbbing cock plunge inside her. He drew  back, immediately thrusting his hips
forward again to penetrate deeper. She  moaned, and her whole body quivered with
raw excitement.  She bit down on  her lower lip. Her warm wetness now
dripped down the inside of her legs as  Patrick began pumping her with
unrelenting force. Now fully aroused, it would be  impossible for her not to climax.
She knew that, however she wouldn't allow  Patrick the satisfaction of
knowing he had given her an orgasm -- no fucking way!  That bastard could take what
he wanted, but she would give him nothing return!  Absolutely nothing!
Stubbornly she refused to make a sound, stiffening her body  and drawing on all
the training and self-control Rose had taught her to show no  reaction to
the enjoyment she took so easily from his cock. Oh, yes, Elise had  control
now. She felt extremely smug denying her pleasure to the egotistical  Patrick.
"Thank you, Rose," she whispered softly.
"I bet Layla doesn't fuck  you like this," Patrick quipped. His words rang
in her head; No, Layla didn't  fuck her like this. "This is what you need,
isn't it, bitch?"
Patrick was  determined -- determined to make her cry out for his cock -- to
show her exactly  what she had been missing these past months. Grunting
with each thrust of his  hips, his breathing became labored and warm sweat
began to trickle on his face.  The bitch had better be enjoying his effort. His
balls could now be heard  slapping against her wet pussy, however, it was
his motion, not hers, that  created the soft squelching sounds of a man taking
a woman.
"What's the  matter slut? Don't you know I'm the best fucking fuck around!
" Patrick told her  between breaths, as the frustration of her silence
welled up inside him. Then,  suddenly, it hit him. He knew what the problem was --
 it was that fucking bitch,  Rose! She'd turned the little whore off men!
Yes, that was it! Still, nothing  was going to prevent him enjoying himself
with the little pussy licker! Closing  his eyes, and with one final thrust,
he released a full shot of his hot cum  inside her.
As he did, Elise felt a wave of heated pleasure quiver through  her body.
Her
heart raced and her cunt throbbed into a full and satisfying  climax. For
several
minutes afterwards, Patrick remained slumped over her,  his cock slowly
becoming
flaccid again while he regained his normal  breathing. When he eventually
lifted
himself off her, Elise remained  still
"What's the matter, slut? Admit it, wasn't that the best fucking fuck  you'
ve ever had?" he questioned her as he slipped his cock back in his
trousers.
Elise lifted herself off the table, and without the slightest show  of
emotion turned to him. "Actually, I've had a whole lot better."
Patrick  now stiffened, clenching his teeth and pursing his lips in sheer
anger and  frustration. No woman had ever spoken to him like that before, the
bitch had  better watch her mouth! He stared at her for a moment. Although
fully developed,  her body still retained the smooth softness of adolescence
and her sweet young  face and large eyes gave her a deceptive look of
innocence. His cock twitched as  he wondered how many men had fucked her before
him. `Men?' he smirked, `she's  probably only ever known boys.' Then
something else occurred to him -- he was the  best! He would have this little bitch
crawling and begging just like the  others.  He would just need to use a
different strategy with this one.  Patrick loved a challenge, and this was the
ultimate! Yes, he would turn her  into a cock loving little whore. But
first he would need to get her away from  this place, away from the influences
of that black bitch, Rose. Elise could stay  at his house, he smiled, until
he tired of her. It might be fun to have a sweet  little slut like her around
for a while until he managed to convinced Layla she  needed him again.
Brilliant! He smiled over at Elise, now pouting and  hurriedly slipping her bra
back on.
"I hope I wasn't too rough with you just  now. It's just that... well,
seeing you sitting there looking so lovely kind of  did something to me," he
told her, choosing his words carefully.
"Next time,  why don't you just go outside and wank off into the rose
bushes?"
Patrick  chuckled. This one was feisty, he liked that! "You know, you could
be stuck here  for a long time? But, today's your lucky day, I think I
might be able to help  you get away from here."
"Oh, and why would you want to do that?" Elise  questioned him
suspiciously.  Patrick thought for a moment. Alien as it  might be to him, perhaps the
truth might be best? He raised an eyebrow and then  replied, "Because, I
want Layla for myself."


Chapter Sixteen -- The Whore in Red.
============================================================================

"Quickly, Mistress Layla needs you now!" Rose rushed into Elise's
bedroom and  threw a silky red dress down on the bed. Elise looked at Rose
then put her  magazine down.
"Alright, I'll bathe immediately."
"No, no! There's no  time for that," Rose waved franticly at the dress. "
Put it on!"
"Alright,"  Elise picked it up and slipped it over her head. "But, please,
Rose, what's so  urgent?"
Rose impatiently turned Elise around and pulled her zipper up.  "Mistress
Layla needs you. The shoes -- you mustn't forget the shoes."
She  hurried over to the wardrobe and took out a pair of red patent
stilettos.
Elise slipped them on, and then began preening her hair with her hands.
"No, no, there's no time! Come," she said, grabbing Elise by the hand and
hurriedly pulling her out of the room and down the stairs. Elise felt
confused  and unsure -- what could possibly be so urgent?
As they approached the  dungeon, loud heaving sobs of a woman in distress
could be heard. Rose opened  the heavy door and pushed Elise forward. Through
the dim lighting Layla could be  seen dressed in black from head to toe
sitting on a large leather chair. To one  side of her, placed on a small table,
a photo album lay opened. The pages,  however, were too far away for Elise
to see the pictures clearly.
"So there  you are -- you disgusting little whore!" Layla almost spat the
words through her  tears. "Get over here now!"
Feeling totally confused, but not wanting to  exacerbate the situation,
Elise hurried over to her Mistress and dropped down  onto her knees without
saying a word. Layla grabbed her crop from the dresser.  Standing up, she
slashed it across the poor girl's bare breasts. Elise cried  out, in fear as much
as pain.  Terrified, tears began to form and then  trickled down her cheeks
as the extent of Layla's rage became clear.
"Spread  your legs! That's so easy for a slut to do!"
Immediately Elise pushed her  knees further apart, as far as her tight
fitting dress would allow. Not,  however, wide enough to satisfy Layla.
Immediately, she grabbed the neckline  and, with one angry wrench, ripped it down to
the waist exposing breasts marked  with a fine crimson line just above the
nipples.
"There, look at them! How  can any man resist a whore's tits?" Layla's
face contorted and she drew the crop  high, hitting it down across the girl's
breasts again and again, each time a  swift whoosh followed by a sharp slap.
Biting down on her lower lip, Elise took  her pain with agonizing
determination. However, within a short time, it all  became too much to bear. She
threw herself forward, burying her face between  Layla's boots. Her shiny red
dress fell around her on the floor as she pleaded,  "Please, Mistress, no
more!"
Layla, however, was in no mood for mercy. "No  more?" she bellowed. "That'
s not what little whores are say. Oh, no, you always  want more! You want
it! You just had to have my Edward, too, didn't you?"
Elise's mind raced; she tried to think. `Edward?' She knew a lot of men,
but  none by that name.
"Greedy little whores -- all of you!" Layla shrieked. Again  and again she
lashed at Elise's shoulders, back and ass, covering her in a  criss-cross of
angry red welts. Each time Elise jerked and writhed about on the  floor,
desperately trying to understand what she had done wrong.
"No more!  Please, stop..." Elise's pleas were now muffled as she buried
her face in her  arms and her words morphed into uncontrollable sobs.
"What's the matter?"  Layla questioned her as she used the back of her
hand to wipe away the tears  from her own cheeks. "You think you don't have to
pay for being a whore? Is that  it? Oh, yes, you'll pay for it alright!"
Layla hadn't finished. Oh no, not  at all. Sneering, she leaned down to
tear away at what little fabric still  covered Elise's body. Then, holding the
crop between the girl's legs, she  slapped at her soft and smooth cunt with
a couple of vicious and well-aimed  strikes. Elise cried out, and her body
shook before she collapsed helplessly on  the floor; tears of despair now
flowed freely as she realized her impossible  situation. Layla then grabbed the
other end of the crop and, leaning down,  rammed the handle up inside the
poor girl's wet vagina. That had been totally  unexpected. A howling cry of
overwhelming fear and panic broke the sound of the  powerless Elise's tears.
"Well, that's what you want isn't it, whore? You  don't care, do you? You
just want to be fucked!" Leaving the crop embedded,  Layla grabbed Elise by
her hair and dragged her towards a low wooden bench.  Forcing her up on to
it, face downwards, with her head at one end and her ass  hanging over the
other. "I'm going to fill every one of your filthy holes, slut!  But first...
"
Elise heard the clinking of metal. Layla grabbed hold of the  girl's right
hand.  Something cold touched against the warmth of her  wrists, and she
realised her hands were being cuffed behind her as she lay  there. Closing her
eyes, Elise hoped that soon she would wake up from this  terrible nightmare.
Instead, she felt something being pressed against her mouth.  Immediately,
she blinked and saw what appeared to be a large rubber cock -- much  too
large. Instinctively, she pursed her lips to prevent it from entering. Layla
then pinched her nose, and within minutes Elise had no choice but to open her
mouth and allowed the huge rubber phallus inside. Elise gagged and coughed
as  Layla pushed it hard up against the back of her throat before slipping
the strap  around her head. She couldn't spit the damned thing out, and she
couldn't  breath! Elise began to panic, writhed about in a desperate struggle
to free  herself, but to no avail.  Thankfully, she soon realised that she
could  still inhale, although with much difficulty, though her nose. She
sniffed and  tried not to cry -- if she cried then her nasal passages would
become blocked,  and she would quite simply suffocate on her own mucous.
"And now something  for your ass and cunt," she heard Layla say. Elise
felt the crop being wrenched  from inside her, allowing for a brief reprieve.
Then, something smooth and hard  pressed against her anus. Something large,
she suspected, especially when Layla  began forcing it inside. Her immediate
reaction was to try to expel it. "Don't  you even try to push the fucking
thing out, you little whore! It stays until I'm  ready to take it out,"
Layla warned her, slapping Elise's ass again with her  crop, as if to reinforce
her words.
Elise tried to speak -- to beg, but her  words were nothing more than
muffled cries. Now another hard and cold object  invaded her wet cunt. In and out,
penetrating her, not with lust, but with a  power of anger and rage. A
force that within a short time made her cunt feel raw  and tender as her body
yielded to the relentless attack. Previously, Elise felt  there had been a
fine line between her pleasure and pain--an amazing and erotic  indecision in
her head pulling her this way and then that. It had been a  delicate balance
that could so easily tip either way, but not this time. Her  world began to
spiral into darkness.
The following day, Rose came into the  girl's room as she usually did, only
this time without her breakfast.
"Mistress Layla would like to see you in her bed chamber now," she said,
drawing the curtains back as she did every morning.
Elise squinted as the  sunlight streamed in. She sat up and then closed her
eyes and groaned. Even the  slightest movement made her wince. She slipped
her legs over the side of the bed  and gingerly stood up. Her whole body
felt tender and sore from the previous  evening's events. She groaned again.
Layla was the last person she wanted to  see.
"Right now," Rose told her, becoming impatient.
"You mean like  this?" Elise held out the front of her nightgown. It was
long, pale pink, and  gathered to a lacy white yoke. She hadn't worn anything
like it since she was a  child, yet now, living at Layla's house, she
always wore it to sleep in. Like  many odd rituals at Layla's house she never
bothered to question it.
"Yes,  right now. Get moving, girl!"
Rubbing her cheeks, she padded barefoot out of  her room and down the
hallway to Layla's room--one foot after the other as if in  some kind of hypnotic
trance. It would be useless to resist -- Elise knew that.  She had never
been invited into Layla's room before and felt unsure of what to  expect. She
only hoped Layla would be in a more congenial mood than the previous  night.
The door was ajar, so cautiously pushed it open. She hesitated for  moment,
then entered.
Layla, draped in a long purple satin robe, sat  brushing her long dark hair
in front of her dressing table mirror. "Oh, there  you are, precious."
`Precious?' Elise queried silently, as she quietly  walked over to Layla
to kneel at her side.
Layla put her brush down and  turned to Elise, taking the girl's chin in
her hand and gently turning her face  one way and then the other.
"I see you are all right? I was a little  concerned that perhaps I had... "
 Layla hesitated before continuing, "I was  concerned I may have gotten a
little carried away last night."
Elise flashed  a glance up at Layla before quickly averting her eyes again.
Her whole body  ached, and her pale skin still carried a random array of
angry red welts.  Feeling a little nervous, she wriggled her ass about on her
heels.   Immediately the dull pain of her swollen ass and cunt reminded her
of exactly  what had occurred the previous evening.
"You have to understand little one,  that I didn't mean to hurt you like
that.
I'm really extremely fond of you.  You know that, don't you?"
"I understand Mistress..." However, quite simply,  she didn't. A
photograph on the dresser of an older, but still very handsome,  man caught Elise's
eye. Then, something dawned on her. "Edward?" she questioned.
Picking up the photo, Layla looked lovingly down at it then slowly traced
her fingertips over the image. "Yes, my Edward."
"And he was killed by  another woman?"
"You seemed surprised, little one. Yes, well, not directly,  but she
certainly caused his death."
"I'm so very sorry, Mistress."
Layla  carefully placed the photograph back on the dresser. Her body
appeared to  stiffen as she explained, "Some things you can forgive, Elise. I
forgave Edward  for being weak and allowing himself to be seduced--men are like
that you  know.  But that little whore-- never!"
Elise listened quietly. So many  things that had previously been a mystery
were now becoming clear.
"Do you  know she actually had the nerve to turn up at my Edward's
funeral? Oh, yes, she  made quite a spectacle of herself." Layla reached for her
handkerchief and  gently dabbed the tears now forming in her eyes.
"What did she do,  Mistress?" For a split second Layla's face contorted
into a dark and ugly  expression that caused Elise to gasp.
"As if that wasn't enough? I will  never forget that disgusting dress. Can
you imagine it? She turned up to my  Edward's funeral in a fucking red
dress!" Layla's body quivered as she clenched  the handkerchief in her fists,
twisting it to the point of almost tearing.
Elise hesitated, unsure of what to do or say, then she leaned over and
rested her head on her mistress's lap. Layla gently stroked the side of Elise'
s  face with her fingertips, as the two remained silent in their own
thoughts for  several minutes.
`Yes, men are weak,' Elise told herself silently. Her own  experience
proved that. Elise had tried so hard when her father married his  lovely young
secretary. `Everyone adores Jean," he told Elise. "Why don't you?"  But
Jean just understand. Jean wanted too much of his time, too much of his
attention... too much of his love. When, just after her eighteenth birthday,
Elise left home, she felt certain her father would realize how he had hurt his
little daughter. He would divorce that loathsome woman and things would be
just  how they had been before--just Elise and her father--but he never did.
Elise knew  why; he was just too weak. So, she made up her mind; he would
have to choose his  new wife or his daughter. She blinked and a single tear
trickled down her cheek  breaking her thoughts. Elise then she lifted her head
and whispered, "It's a  terrible thing to lose someone you love. I lost
someone very special, also. He  was weak, too."
"Oh, you poor baby. I had no idea." Layla wrapped her arms  protectively
around the girl's shoulder, then leaned over to rest her cheek on  top of
Elise's head.  "Who, little one?"
"My father," Elise replied,  hesitating, then nonchalantly adding, "His
whore wore black to his funeral."


Chapter Seventeen -- The Plan
============================================================================

"Sssh! Don't make a sound."
Patrick didn't try to hide his smugness as he  clamped his hand over Elise'
s mouth.
Before she swung around she already  knew, by his musky masculine smell and
his hardness pressing against her ass,  exactly why he had come.
"I told you, never come up to my room," she hissed,  pulling him further
into the en suite.
"Oh, so you want me to take you in  here, the bathroom?" he chuckled as he
looked around at the tiled and mirrored  walls.
"Will you please keep your voice down?"
"Oh, so you want me to  take you in here, the bathroom?" he repeated, his
voice dropping to a mock  whisper as he grinned down at her.
"Have you made the arrangements?"
"I  sure have." Patrick moved closer and began fondling her breasts
through the soft  fabric of her dress as he spoke.
"But when? When will you come for  me?"
"Sunday. Early Sunday morning, around eight," he told her, leaning down
and turning his head to allow his lips to brush over the side of her neck and
 shoulder.
"Oh, thank you! Thank you, so much," Elise grinned and let out a  little
sigh of relief as her body visibly relaxed.
Patrick hesitated, as if  gauging her reaction, before slipping one hand
down between her thighs. "You  haven't forgotten our other little agreement
have you?"
"Don't worry, I  haven't..."
The arrangements had all been made. Patrick would come for her  early one
morning after one of Layla's little get togethers. No one in the house  ever
stirred much before midday after these little parties, so it would be the
ideal time. Elise would then stay with Patrick for a few months, in hiding,
until things settled down. Of course, she was aware of what that would
involve.  Sex, sex and more sex with Patrick, and more than likely with a few of
his male  friends, also. She chuckled softly and thought, `Well, there are
surely worse  things in life.'
"Oh, you smell so fucking good, you sweet little whore..."  Patrick buried
his face in her hair and began roughly squeezing one of her  breasts. "You
love it hard and hot, don't you, bitch?"
"Will you stop it! We  can't do it here..."
Patrick ignored her protest, "Just relax; it's no big  deal." Elise moaned
and closed her eyes. There was no denying it--she had  certainly developed a
taste for sweet pain.
"Strip for me, bitch! Take off  all your clothes."
Gripping at her dress, Elise drew in a deep breath to  compose herself,
then took a step back. "No, not here, somewhere else!" she  hissed.
Patrick looked her up and down, gazing lustfully at her for a moment,  then
lunged forward. Impatiently, he grabbed the hem of her dress, whipping it
up to her hips, then rubbed his hands up and down her legs and ass.
"I don't  have time for this. We stay here!" He told her.
Elise's body stiffened. What  if Rose were to walk in and catch them?
No panties?" he quipped. "You must  have been expecting me after all."
"My mistress has forbidden me from wearing  under my dresses," Elise
hissed, tying to squirm free.
"I like the way that  woman thinks," Patrick smirked.
"I think we should continue that edict when  you come to stay with me."
Elise glared up at him as he pressed the lower  half of his body to hers.
Much as she disliked his smarmy attitude, she couldn't  deny his good looks,
or the hard bulge now in his trousers now pressing against  her belly. She
took a deep breath, inhaling his musky and masculine scent, then  grabbing
hold of his collar, she clenched her teeth and tore open the fabric of  his
shirt. Several buttons popped and fell onto the tiled floor. For a moment
Elise hesitated, licking her lips and running her hands on his firm muscular
chest, gently squeezing his nipples between her fingers. Leaning down, she
gently kissed his left nipple. He moaned, and she took a moment to smile up
at  him before pressing her lips against the other papilla, only this time
she  opened her mouth a little farther and bit down. Patrick's body convulsed
and he  cried out, "What the hell did you do that for?"
Elise smirked, "That's for  being such a bastard."
Patrick grinned, "You and I are going to get along  just fine, I can tell."
 And with that he began hungrily kissing and licking at  her neck and
groping at her full, ripe breasts. His hand slipped down between  her legs,
rubbing up and down the length of her thighs before roughly fingering  the soft
smooth folds of her cunt. Oh, yes, the bitch felt good and wet! As he  lifted
her ass up onto the vanity several bottles toppled, clanging as they fell
over. Patrick and Elise ignored them; nothing else mattered.
Now, panting  like a bitch in heat, Elise closed her eyes. The clinking of
his belt buckle  told her that his hard cock would soon be hers. Yes... his
cock...  for her  pleasure. Patrick may have been vain, but he sure had
plenty to be vain about.  Commandingly handsome, and obviously extremely virile,
Elise couldn't remember  experiencing a better man. She opened her eyes to
look into Patrick's, and she  realized, `The bastard's watching himself in
the mirror!'
A little while  later, as Elise lay soaking in her bath, she wondered if
Patrick's house would  be as large and palatial as Layla's. How long might
she stay with him? She  wasn't sure. Men needed to be deal with differently
from women. Her mind drifted  back to her father and her stepmother, Jean. Her
kind and loving father had  taught her many important things, but
ironically it was Jean who had taught her  the most important lesson of all. Not
directly of course, but seeing that woman  flirting with her father made Elise
realize, at a very young age that to control  a man's cock is to control him.
`Men are hard when they're soft, and soft when  they're hard.' Elise
smiled.
All that activity had made her rather hungry,  and so after bathing she
slipped downstairs for something to eat. Upon entering  the kitchen, she saw
Rose sitting at the table sipping a cup of tea. Her eyes  narrowed as she
looked up. Then, in a low, emotionless voice she said, "I'm  going to give you
some advice, Elise..."
`Elise;' just `Elise.'
Rose  never called her that! "...as a friend and nothing else. Keep away
from that  bastard, Patrick. He's nothing but trouble."


Chapter Eighteen -- The Piercing.
============================================================================

Elise  sat still -- knees spread wide and back perfectly straight --
Rose stood behind  her gently stroking the leather crop up and down the girl's
spine.
"Keep  still," Rose told her, then suddenly, and without warning, struck
the poor  girl's ass with a vicious blow. Elise cried out, and immediately
jerked her  shoulders back. "What did I tell you, slut?"
"You told me to keep still, but  how could..." Another stinging lash to
her ass interrupted her attempt to  explain herself.
"When I tell you to do something I expect you to do it! How  can you expect
to learn obedience if you have no self control?"
Rose slipped  her hand under her apron and into her pocket to pull out a
long golden chain in  the form of a `Y'. Each of the three ends had a small
gold clamp attached. "Sit  up straight, slut, and spread your legs wider."
Elise wriggled about to  spread her thighs wider and watched with nervous
curiosity the shiny thread  glistened against Rose's long dark fingers.
She leaned down then opened the  first clamp over on of Elise's erect
nipples.
"Are you ready for this,  slut?"
Elise felt her breath quicken. She opened her mouth to reply, but  instead
gasped as the metal teeth bit into the tender flesh of her nipple.
"Good girl, good slut," Rose told her. "Good little slut's always take
their  pain."
Elise bit down on her lower lip, then drawing on all her inner  strength
managed to stay that way as the second clamp was snapped onto her  breast.
"Now, where does the little slut think this one might go?" Rose  taunted,
holding it and letting it swing freely.
The gnawing pain in her  nipples had distracted her from what Rose was
saying, however, when she saw that  third clamp dangling between her open
thighs, there was no doubt about where it  might go. Instinctively, she drew back.
She tried to stand up, but as she began  to lift herself up onto her knees
Rose's heavy hand on her shoulder prevented  her from rising.
"Stay right where you are."
"Please, Rose, you can't be  serious?"
"You just earned yourself another five minutes punishment time,  slut."
Bewildered and unsure of how much more she could stand, or how much  more
Rose intended pushing her, Elise dropped her ass back onto her heels. Rose
knelt down, and slipping one hand between Elise's legs, used her fingers to
spread her pink folds and expose her most private parts. Elise felt the
painful  bite of metal as the third clamp bit her hard clit. This time she
winced and let  out a little cry.
Rose chuckled. "There, you don't like that, do you little  slut?" Then her
mood appeared to change. " Well, let me tell you something I  don't like
it when little sluts, like you, don't' do exactly as they're told so  you'
re just going to have to learn the hard way are you? Rose's way. Rose always
knows what's best."
Within a minute the vicious teeth of the clamp were  biting into her clit.
It throbbed between her open thighs like a miniature cock  begging for some
kind of release. Her nipples too had become unbearably  painful--a fine
pickling sensations shot through them like tiny electric shocks.  Elise closed
her eyes tightly as if by doing so she may perhaps wake up and  discover it
was all a bad dream, however, a sharp jerk on the chains made her  blink.
"Keep your eyes open, slut! You must learn to take your pain!" Rose
stood, with her arms folded, in front of Elise. "Some day you will thank me for
teaching you such self control."
Little did Rose know that Elise had already  used her training for her own
gain, however, she didn't answer. She knew by now  how foolish it would be
to speak without being out being asked a specific  question. Any other time,
perhaps she could but not when Rose was in one of her  `moods'. Elise
remained perfectly still and silent for twenty minutes, although  kneeling there
in such pain it seemed like a much longer. All the time Rose  watched her.
At last, and just when Elise felt she couldn't possibly stand  another moment
of the agonizing torture, Rose nodding and smiled. Leaning down  she
realised the clamps, on by one, and then with an unexpected gentleness  rubbed
Elise's nipples until the pain began to subside.
"You did well little  slut. Why don't you rest a few minutes?" Rose
motioning towards the  bed.
Feeling totally drained, Elise dropped down on her hands and crawled
towards the bed. Her engorged clit felt tender as it rubbed against her thighs
and her nipples were almost numb.
She climbed up onto the bed and then  dropped down onto her back.
"Now, just relax," Rose told her, lifting the  girl's right hand up to
hook the metal ring to the head of the bed. She then  secured Elise's other
hand and her feet also.
This hadn't been exactly what  Elise had in mind when Rose had told her to
rest, however, it was good to lay  back and stretch. How long would Rose
leave her in this position she wondered?  She lifted her head slightly and saw
her clit throbbing between her open thighs.  She smiled. It reminded her of
a boy's cock--like the one who had first fucked  her back in high school.
Perhaps Rose would lick her? Right now, Elise welcomed  the idea of having a
nice wet and warm tongue soothing her throbbing clit.
Rose disappeared into the bathroom.
"Oh, no, she going to shave me  again," Elise thought. The first time had
been a humiliating experience for  Elise. Fortunately, since then she had
been allowed to do her own grooming. Now  she wondered what Rose was up to.
Rose returned carrying a tray, its  contents covered with a small towel.
She placed it on the bedside table and then  smiled down at Elise. "You're
not going to like this, Miss Elise. But it's got  to be done."
Why Rose insisted on calling Elise that was a mystery to her.  Slut, whore,
and bitch, were names she could understand. `Miss Elise' just  seemed too
ridiculous!
When Rose lifted the cover, however, Elise didn't see  anything required
for shaving instead she saw something quite different--a  piercing tool! She
recognized it immediately from when she had her ears done.  Realising what
Rose intended to do, Elise froze in fear then a cool damn sweat  began to form
on her body.
"No, please!" Elise squirmed and struggled against  her bonds. Her breath
quickened and her heart raced. "Please, not that! Not  there!"
Ignoring her pleas completely, Rose leaned down and began fiddling  with
Elise's clit. She gave it a gentle squeeze, then peering down in deep
concentration, she skillfully pulled the delicate foreskin back. "I'm afraid  this
might just hurt a little bit," Rose warned with a smirk, "so scream if you
 must."
The metal device felt hard and cold pressed against Elise's throbbing  and
swollen clit. Tiny beads of moisture formed her face and body as she lay
there panting and gripped with panic. She closed her eyes tightly and braced
herself.  She felt a sharp prick followed by agonizing stabbing pain
through her clit that coursed right up into the very core of her belly. Her  mouth
gapped open and...
Layla sat in her study, quietly reading, when  suddenly her peace was
interrupted by a piercing scream from up stairs. She  immediately stopped and
looked up from her book.
She had wanted Elise to  have something special. Something that no one had
ever given her before. A gift  that would be a constant reminder to the girl
of who she belonged to. When Rose  had suggested attaching the gold tag
with Layla's initials on it to Elise's  clit, she knew nothing could possibly
be more appropriate. Rose always knew what  was best.
The house went quiet again. Layla smiled and returned to her  book.


Chapter Nineteen -- Layla's sweet  Elise
============================================================================

Rose  arrived home after shopping. She entered around the back, placed
her packages on  the kitchen table and then went in search of her mistress
to let her know she  had returned. At this time of day Layla would usually
enjoy reading in the  lounge or sitting out on the back patio, however, as
Rose entered the main hall,  she heard sobs from upstairs. She stopped and
leaned up again the wall, closing  her eyes she listened to the pitiful and
heartbreaking sound. Rose clenched her  fist and bit down on her lower lip. She
must find the girl! Yes, the girl must  once again have to bear her Mistress'
s pain.
"Miss Elise! Miss Elise, where  are you?" Rose called frantically as she
hurried up the stairs towards the  girl's room, but as she swung the door
open the sight that confronted her quite  literally look her breath away. Elise
sat on the floor, slumped over, while  systematically lashing her back and
shoulders with a long black flogger. Each  lashing sound was followed by a
faint gasp as Elise's head jerked, and she  closed her eyes for a moment
before striking herself yet again. The red dress  she wore had torn and now
pooled around her on the floor.
Rose felt a hand on  her shoulder and swung around to see Layla. "Leave us,
Rose, " she  said.
Elise immediately stopped and stared up at her mistress, unsure now if  she
had done the right thing.
Layla wrinkled her nose and sniffed, then walk  over to the girl. She
dropped down onto her knees beside Elise and gently  enveloped the girl in her
arms. "Oh, baby, you did this for me didn't you?"
Layla hugged her tightly, then drawing back slightly, looked down at and
gently wiped, the tears from Elise's face with her hand.
Elise nodded. "I  punished myself because I wanted you to see these welts
and know I did this for  you. My pain is my love. My pain is the love that
heals you.  I understand  that now, Mistress." Elise felt oddly safe as she
nuzzled her face between  Layla's warm breasts. `Can I really leave her?' she
questioned herself.   `Yes, she's a strong woman. She will be just fine.'
"What would I ever do  without you, my little Elise? You are the love of my
life."


Chapter Twenty -- The  Keeper.
============================================================================

Elise  showered and dressed, then bundled a few clothes up into plastic
bag before  creeping down stairs. Ever so carefully she opened the front
door. For a moment  she just stood there inhaling the fresh morning air. Soon
she would be free.  Elise sat down on the cool stone steps and waited and
watched for Patrick's car  to come up the drive-way. How long exactly had she
been here? A few weeks? A few  months? A few years even? It had been as if
time had no measure since she had  arrive at Layla's house.
She rested her elbows in her knees and cupped her  chin in her hands as she
let her mind drift over the past few months. In an odd  kind of way become
rather fond of Rose. In many ways she had become like the  mother Elise had
never known, guiding and advising her, teaching and  disciplining her. And
Layla -- Mistress Layla -- she had been so very generous and  giving in her
own special way. "You are the love of my life, little Elise, "  that's what
she said. No one else, except her father, had ever loved her that  much. What
would it do to Layla not to have her `little Elise' around? As she
thought about it and a wiry little smile formed on her lips--it would break  Layla'
s heart, that's what it would do.
In the distance, at the end of the  long driveway, she could now see Patrick
's distinctive red Porsche speeding  towards the house.
Elise stood up and took in another deep breath of the  fresh morning air.
Yes, it indeed it felt very symbolic. The past few months may  have been a
complete blur at times, but now everything was very clear in her  head. Today
would be a whole new beginning of a whole new and wonderful life for  Elise.
She smiled--a big happy smile that almost made her laugh. She couldn't
remember the last time she felt so good. Then, picking up her bag of clothes,
and without the slightest hesitation, she turned around and walked back
inside  the house.
Up in her room, Elise carefully put away the clothes she had so  hastily
packed earlier, then she paddled down the stairs, and into the kitchen.
"Would you like a cup of tea, Miss Elise?" Rose stood at the stove pouring
 boiling water into a china teapot.
"Yes, that would be lovely, thank you,  Rose." Elise sat down and Rose
poured.
"You know you've made the right  decision Elise. I'm glad you've decided
to stay, and I know Layla will be very  happy, too," Rose told her, nodding
and passing the cup and saucer.
Elise  shot her a puzzled look and then a little frown.
"Oh, it's alright, your  little secret's safe with me."
Elise gave a little sigh of relief then,  lifting the cup, took a sip of
her tea.  "Rose, I'm the luckiest," she  gushed, "Mistress Layla is the most
wonderful Mistress any girl could possibly  hope for. I love her so much."
Rose just  smiled.

============================================================================

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