Date: Sun, 12 Sep 2010 21:41:01 EDT From: sfmaster@worldnet.att.net Subject: THE CHALLENGE chapters 13-16 End Chapter 13: The Loan - Part One: A Different Mistress - Friday October 23, 1998 From the Diary of Cheryl Branford I sit at the window of the fast food restaurant, watching the traffic go by. The workweek is over, and the roads are filled with people going home to family, shopping, and looking forward to the weekend. In my purse are the directions to Mistress Lori's house, which Mistress Janet had given me the previous Sunday. Mistress Janet has fulfilled the second request that I have made of her, that she would loan me out to another Domme. Actually, I know Brookline quite well, since I went to school here for a year. Janet had provided me with virtually fail safe directions to Lori's House, but I kept silent that I knew the area. I cannot believe that I am here, having driven over a hundred miles for the purpose of serving another Mistress! I know that this weekend I shall be naked, whipped, and used sexually by another woman. Worse, I desire this treatment! It has been just five months since I have willingly submitted myself to Mistress Janet. In that time I have learned both the pleasure and pain which has come as the price of submission to a Mistress. In the back of the restaurant, trying hard not to be obvious, are a pair of teenagers in love. They sit on the same side in a booth, hugging and kissing, the boy's hands roving over her body when he thinks that nobody is watching. I smile, wondering how she might react if she saw the marks I carry. Or what the small leather collar around my neck really means, the ring on my finger, and the chain on my ankle. When Janet gave me the collar to wear in public last week, I was pleased and happy. Until I realized one day while shopping that I am now collared, ringed, and chained in public. I now wear constant reminders of my slavery even when I am not in Janet's presence. I am a slave to Mistress Janet, which is what I feared that I might become. Janet broke down my last wall of resistance when she asked me if her friend Master Craig could use me. How could I refuse to be used by the man of my dreams? He used me as Janet did, then made savage love to me afterwards. Had he asked me to return home with him I would have done so, as his slave. I finish my drink, and walk to the bathroom to freshen up. I wash my face, and dry myself off. I apply lipstick, and straighten my sweater and jeans. Summoning my courage, I walk outside, and get behind the wheel of my car. I start it, then pull into traffic, and the remaining drive to Lori's house only takes about fifteen minutes. My heartbeats faster as I wonder what pain and pleasure await me. Mistress Lori and Gina live in a house in an upscale suburb of Brookline. I follow the directions that Janet has given me, into a winding series of streets in a new development of large homes. I make certain of the address, then pull into a driveway. In the driveway I see a Jeep Wagoneer, and place my Lexus beside it. I exit my car, remove a small suitcase and clothing bag, then walk to the front door, and ring the bell, terrified. "You must be Cheryl," greeted a woman, "I'm Gina, Mistress Lori isn't home yet. Please come in." "Pleased to meet you," I reply, extending my hand in greeting. "Welcome," Gina answers, "can I take your coat?" "Thank you." I place my suitcase on the floor, and my clothing bag on top. Gina takes my coat and places it in the hall closet. "Let's put your things in your room," she suggests. I take my clothing bag and Gina takes my suitcase, and we go upstairs to a nicely appointed bedroom. There is no hint that Lori is a Domme, no ringbolt in the wall. Just a nice brass four poster bed, which I know that I can be secured to easily. Gina is in her thirties, and quite attractive. About five feet four inches, she is wearing an Ann Taylor blouse and skirt in red and modest heels. "Mistress Lori is running a little late at work. I'm making Dinner, want to help?" "Sure." I follow her back downstairs and we pass through the Dining Room, where I notice that the table is already set for three. My eyes linger on the table and place settings, and Gina notices my attention. "We'll be eating together, unlike at Mistress Janet's House," stated Gina, "Mistress Lori is a lot less formal than Mistress Janet. Besides, we don 't own such a grand House like she does." "You usually eat together?" I ask. "Yes, except when Lori in entertaining a guest, when I may be called on to serve in a uniform. Other than that, we eat together, and sleep together also." "Oh!" I answer, recognition dawning that there are different relationships in D/s than Janet's formality. I now wonder if Janet and Tina share meals together also, instead of her being served in the Dining Room whenever I am there. "I'm just about to bread the fish, want to help?" asks Gina. "Sure." I follow Gina into the kitchen, where a pot of soup is slowly cooking on the stove, and the table is covered in everything needed for a fish fry. Fillets on a dish, a bowl with flour, and another with bread crumbs. "I was just about to whisk the eggs," said Gina. "I'll do it," I offer. I break three eggs into a bowl, then whisk them until the yolks are completely mixed in. Gina then adds in some spices, and we are ready. Next I assist Gina by first coating the flounder in flour, then dipping them into the egg, then finally coating them in bread crumbs. We place the fish into the fridge when finished, and wash our hands together. "We're having New England Chowder, Salad, Fried Flounder, and Baked Potatoes," listed Gina, "is this your first visit here?" "I was here long ago," I answer. "Perhaps we'll show you around tomorrow. You won't be cleaning the playroom all weekend," she laughed. "That would be nice." "Chowder's just about done," observes Gina as she lifts the pot's lid, the kitchen filling with a wonderful aroma. I hear the front door open, and close. Gina replaces the cover and walks quickly to the front door, with me following. "Good evening, Gina," greets Lori. "Good evening, Mistress." Lori hands her coat to Gina, who hangs it in the hall closet. She is wearing a dark blue business suit, her hair in a bun at the back of her head. "How was your day?" "Very good, Mistress." "I see that we have a visitor, welcome, Cheryl." "Hello, Mistress Lori," I bow as Janet has instructed me to. "I'm going to change and freshen up, and you can start Dinner. Is everything prepared?" "Yes, Mistress." "Good, I'll be down in ten minutes." Lori walks upstairs, and I help Gina place the salad on the table, along with bread and butter. I help Gina in the kitchen, who evidently has had everything well prepared in advance. We are all seated at the table as Gina serves the salad, and Lora and Gina begin making small talk about work. Then we have some bread, then Gina brings out three bowls of steaming New England Clam Chowder. "Thank you, Gina," said Lori. "You're welcome, Mistress." "You're allowed to speak, Cheryl. I'm not quite as formal as Mistress Janet, but you must remember how to address me." "Thank you, Mistress," I answer. Lori and Gina continue making small talk, and then even before she's finished with her chowder, Gina goes to the kitchen. I see her light the fire under a frying pan. She returns and finishes the soup, which we have already finished. She takes the bowls and spoons back into the kitchen, leaving Mistress Lori and me alone at the table. Her black eyes bore into me like drills. "How was the drive from Greenwich?" politely asks Lori. "Fine, Mistress. No traffic, I left after lunch. A very pleasant drive, thank you." "Have you ever been to Boston before?" "No, Mistress," I lie. "Perhaps we can do some sightseeing tomorrow, show you the town. I'm not going to be using you all weekend." "Thank you, Mistress. That would be very nice." I suddenly realize that I am in greater danger here than I was in Janet's house. There, I am a servant, usually naked, but now allowed to wear a rubber Maid's outfit. Here, I am allowed to sit at the table, directly facing Mistress Lori. Even to make small talk! Lori is already suspicious of me, having recognized me from that damn fetish shop in Los Angeles last year. She will try to befriend me, make me slip, do anything to admit why I am here on the East Coast far from home in Janet's house. The sound of something frying suddenly comes from the kitchen, along with the wonderful aroma of fish frying. "May I help Gina?" I ask. "Yes," replies Lori. I am glad for the reprieve, and I help Lori in the kitchen. I remove the potatoes from the oven, and place them in a dish. There is tartar sauce in the fridge, along with white wine and soda. Gina fries the fish, drying off the excess oil on a paper towel before placing the main course on a plate. She has made more than enough for three, and rushes to place the oval serving dish on the table. I follow with the potatoes, and tartar sauce, then another trip with the soda and wine. Lori already has an opener on the table, which she hands to me. I open the wine, hand her the cork, and wait. "That will be fine, Cheryl, you may pour." "Thank you, Mistress," I reply. I pour the wine into three long stemmed glasses made of finely cut crystal. Once everything has been placed on the table, I seat myself after Gina. "Very good, Gina, thank you," complimented Lori. "You're welcome, Mistress." I eat in silence, only answering when asked a question by Lori or her companion. The chowder was excellent, and the fish even better. Gina suddenly rises from the table, and retrieves a dish of steamed broccoli. The meal is now complete, and we settle down to eat. Lori manages an office, and Gina is a graphics designer. They make small talk together, and I eat in silence. Once the main course is complete, Gina and I remove the dishes, and we bring out coffee and cake. "Are you all right?" asks Lori. "A little tired, Mistress," I answer. "After Dinner, you can rest for a while before I'll want you." "Thank you, Mistress." Once I help Gina with the dishes I am allowed to go to my bedroom and I lay down on the bed. What am I doing here? To prove that I can serve another woman? Or that I can stand up to her use of me? I fall into an uneasy sleep on the bed. "Cheryl," I hear a voice waking me. "Gina," I answer when I open my eyes. "Mistress Lori will want you in an hour. She has asked that you prepare yourself for her as you do for Mistress Janet." "I'll have to bathe, rouge my aureole, and perfume myself. That will take an hour or so," I reply sleepily. "I'll help," answers Gina. "Thank you." True to her word, Gina helps me after I shower and dry my hair. I remove my leather collar when I bathe, but not my ring or my ankle chain. In the bedroom, she has stripped also, and I see that she is wearing a gold ring in her right nipple. I prepare myself just as Tina has taught me, sometimes painfully, to get properly ready for Mistress Janet. The perfume stings as it dries between my legs, on the tender flesh that has felt the lash and crop. In between application, I rouge my nipples, conscious of the fact that I never prepared myself so thoroughly when I dated a man. Then again, he wasn't expected to take a riding crop to me if I failed to be properly ready either. "You've very beautiful," comments Gina. "Thank you," I reply. In the bedroom mirror I see the marks that Janet has placed upon me last week. I wonder if it was my imagination, or did she go easy on me then? Were the strokes of the crop lessened in order that Lori would use me more? I place my feet into a pair of mules, then follow Gina to a small study downstairs. She knocks on the closed door and Lori bids me entrance. "Come inside," Lori orders. I enter the room, naked. It is a smaller version of Janet's library. Bookcases, a desk and computer. Including an unfamilar leather clad woman seated behind the desk. "Thank you, Mistress." "You may stand in front of the desk." I close the door behind me, and stand naked in front of Lori. In the past, I would be blushing a deep red by now, embarrassed. But I am past such things now, used to being seen and used by others. "Hands behind your head, and turn around, slowly," Lori orders. I do as I am told, having presented myself to Janet like this before on many occasions. My aureole are rouged a deep red, and I can smell the perfume that I have applied between my thighs. My underarms are shaved clean, and I wonder if Janet will eventually demand that I shave my sex as well. "You are quite beautiful," observes Lori, "when were you last used?" "Saturday, by Mistress Janet." "With what instrument, and how many strokes?" "Twenty-five strokes with the riding crop, Mistress," I calmly answer. "Thank you, you may put you arms down now," Lori orders. "Thank you, Mistress." "Place your hands on the desk." "Yes, Mistress." Lori rises to her feet as I follow my orders in silence. I know that I am going to be used, even before we go to her playroom, but how? "Why are you here?" asks Lori. "To serve another Mistress," I answer. "Aren't there plenty of Dommes in Los Angeles?" "I am here today to serve you, Mistress Lori." Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! I receive three blows on my bottom that would have staggered me before I was trained and brought me to tears, but I am used to such force by now. "Why are you here being trained my Janet, a good friend of mine, three thousand miles from your home? "I wanted to be trained my Mistress Janet," I answer. "Her reputation extends to LA, to a woman with no connection to the scene?" demands Lori, steel in her voice. "Yes, Mistress," I calmly answer. "Do you consider yourself to be strong?" "Yes, Mistress," I answer. "Yes, Cheryl, I did remember you from the fetish shop in LA. It was sheer coincidence that you were there when I went in with a girlfriend of mine. I did tell Janet afterwards that I remembered you, yet you are here, loaned to me for a weekend. Aren't you worried that I may hurt you?" "No, Mistress Lori." "Why?" she softly asks me. "Because I know that being an associate of Janet's you would never hurt or abuse a slave, Mistress," I answer. "Ah!" I cry, when Lori's fingers invade my sex. "Mistress Janet is a good friend of mine, and a well known and loved Domme in the scene. I may not be able to make you explain why you are here, but I will make you prove to me what you have learned from Janet's training. Do you understand?" "Yes!" I cry, as her fingers dig into my sex. "That's good," answered Lori calmly, as if she had been inspecting a car for purchase, instead of a woman. She wipes her hands on a tissue, then selects a long wooden ruler. She hefts it in her hands, displaying it for my terror. "Has Janet ever used a ruler on that bottom of yours?" "No Mistress." "Do you know why?" "No, Mistress," I answer, terror in my voice. "Because it has sharp edges, and can break the skin easily if used. And it can drive splinters into the wound as well. I'm not going to use it on you unless you give me a reason, by not obeying an order. Understand?" "Yes, Mistress." "Very good, now sit in the chair, I have quite another test in mind for you," Lori orders. I do as I am told, and sit naked on the cool leather. I had been fearful and afraid that the hard wood of the ruler was going to be used on me for the first time, and now I wonder what test Lori wants me to perform. She places the ruler on her desk, then removes a vibrator and phallus. Holding the vibrator in her hands, she flicks the switch, and I can hear a slight buzzing sound. "You may use your hand, the vibrator, or the dildo. I want you to give yourself an orgasm in my presence," Lori orders. "I've never done that before in the presence of another woman, Mistress," I answer. "Nice to see that I can ask something of you that Mistress Janet has not. Do it!" Embarrassed, I place my hand between my legs, inserting my fingers into my already wet love box. I tickle and pull at my pubic hairs, then insert two of fingers inside where Lori has already probed. Then in begin to move my fingers in and out, simulating the motion of a man's cock. There is a small mirror in the library, no doubt specially placed to reflect back upon the occupant of the chair. I look at my red face, and I feel acutely embarrassed by this action. Janet has never asked me to do this, and Lori has already threatened me with a fearsome instrument if I do not perform. "May I have the vibrator, Mistress?" I ask in a soft voice. "Yes." I take the vibrator from the desk, turn it on, and place the buzzing shaft between my legs. The hard plastic is the remaining stimulation that I need, and I soon feel myself get wet and excited. My breaths become shorter, my chest heaves, and soon I climax. "Ah!" I cry, one time after another as the waves of pleasure course through my naked body, for Lori's entertainment. "Very good," compliments Lori. I place the vibrator back on the desk, the plastic surface wet with my secretions. Surely Lori wants to lick my own juices from the device, just a Janet would? "Thank you, Mistress," I answer. "That was easy to do, wasn't it?" Lori asks, "much easier to bear than a session with the cane?" "Yes, Mistress," I answer. Last week, Janet again allowed me the use of another of her slaves. I let the girl choose the instrument, and she wanted the cane. I had wanted the crop, but instead the cane was her choice. It took all of my concentration to avoid drawing blood, to break the skin. "Since you're now nice and wet, Gina will take you to the playroom, where I have a few different toys than Janet. Do you submit to my use?" asks Lori. "Yes, Mistress Lori." "What is your safeword?" "Sin, Mistress," I answer. Gina opens the library door. She has changed into a leather bra and skirt, and now wears a collar around her neck. I wonder what she is carrying in her hands. "Stand up," Gina orders. I comply quickly, and Gina takes hold of my right wrist, and I feel the bite of cold steel around it. Gina has a pair of handcuffs, and my left wrist is quickly made prisoner as well. I suddenly realize that in the entire time I have been used by Mistress Janet, she has only used the leather bracelets to bind me. "Pull at the all you like," suggests Lori, "you'll never escape." Naked and cuffed, I make a vain attempt to free myself from the implacable steel that holds me prisoner. But nothing I do is of any avail, and my wrists remain locked in steel. "Take her down to the playroom, and place her in the cage," orders Lori. Gina grabs hold of my arms, and I am forced marched down to the playroom. While the basement of the house is large, it is nothing compared to what Mistress Janet possesses. Against the wall of the basement (done in fake brick, I notice, for atmosphere) is a large steel cage, of the sort used for large animals. Or I realize, big enough for a single person. I am marched over to the cage, and I see that the door is open. On the cage floor is a wooden pallet, covered by a blanket. "On your knees and inside," orders Gina. I place myself on my knees, bend down low, and inch myself inside the cage onto the blanket. Once inside, the door is closed, and Gina padlocks the door through a hasp. "Place your back to the bars." I do as I am told, and my right wrist is freed of the steel, but not the left. I turn around, then look at my captor. "Lock it back on your wrist, with your hands in front." I take the cuff into my left hand, then lock it back around my right wrist, hearing each click as I close the ratchets tighter around my flesh. "Lori will be along after a bit to attend to you, Cheryl. In the meantime, enjoy the cage. There's no escape." Gina dims the lights, then closes the door behind her. With my wrists enclosed in steel, I pull at the bars without effect. Next my fingers try for the padlock. On my knees, I try to pull my wrists apart, fighting against the handcuffs that restrain me. I am naked, locked in a steel cage in the playroom of another Mistress who is already suspicious of me. By my own choice! Tears fall from my eyes as I settle down to wait for Mistress Lori. The cage is large enough so that I can sit with my legs pulled up close to my chin, or lay down somewhat. Regardless, I am a prisoner. I recall that Janet has a cell in her Dungeon that I was made to sleep in for a couple of nights after I had displeased her. There is no clock in the playroom, so I have no way of measuring the passage of time. I can turn to look outside my steel prison, but a table or something blocks my view of the rest of the room. I settle down to wait for Lori, occasionally pulling at the handcuffs on my wrists. My fingers caressing the smooth cold stainless steel that holds me captive. "Wake up!" commands Lori, as she strikes the bars of the cage. "Yes, Mistress," I dumbly answer as I struggle back to wakefulness. Have I really fallen asleep in my cage, and how long have I been inside? Mistress Lori opens the door, and I wait inside, for permission to come out. I have learned from Mistress Janet not to make any moves unless having been given permission first. "You may leave your cage," orders Lori. I exit the cage, stiff from my confinement. I get to my feet, my muscles stiff from the ordeal of crouching in the cage for so long. "There's a bowl of water on the table, plus a cloth to dry yourself with," suggests Lori, "let me remove your cuffs." I hold out my hands and my cuffs are unlocked. I spy the bowl and cloth, and plunge my hands into water that feels like it is freezing cold! Then I withdraw my hands in surprise, and look sadly at Mistress Lori. "Wash yourself or I'll pour the bowl over you," threatens Lori. Even though the water is ice cold, I wash my face with it. The cold water instantly awakens me, and I dry my hands and face with a soft white towel. It is while I'm drying myself that I look at what I thought was a table. At each end is a wheel and chains. It is a rack! I stop and stare, looking in horror at the device. "Are you awake?" "Yes, Mistress," I answer. "Good. Gina, you may fit her collar and bracelets on." "Yes, Mistress." Trembling, I stand in place as Gina locks on the familiar instruments of my bondage. I am made to place my ankles one at a time on a stool so that Gina does not have to bend all the way to lock my ankle bracelets on. Soon, I am attired as usual. "Kneel," commands Lori. I kneel in front of Mistress Lori, conscious of the fact that I now deeply long for Mistress Janet. "Do you submit to my use?" "Yes, Mistress," I answer. "You may then select the instrument of your use," Lori commands. Against the wall is a wooden cabinet that Gina has opened for my inspection. I see all of the familiar instruments of a Domme. I breathe deeply, and select a rubber flogger. I know that the stands will sting and hurt, and mark easily. But I know that unless I prove to Lori that I am both submissive and well trained, she will use me even harder than Mistress Janet. I remove the flogger from the cabinet, stand before Lori, and sink to my knees in front of her. Then I present the rubber flogger to her. "Please flog me, Mistress?" I ask softly. "Your wish shall be granted. Gina!" "Yes, Mistress!" "Hang Cheryl from the ceiling chain, with her legs spread. She's going to be severely flogged this night, perhaps harder than ever before. I want her naked little body totally available to me." "Yes, Mistress," answers Gina. I stand in silence as I am again hung from a ceiling chain, exposed to whatever mercies that Mistress Lori has in mind for me. Janet has never asked me to select the method of my torment, so I was shaking inside as I looked at the contents of Lori's cabinet. Just a few miles from here I went to school and studied literature before I went back to Stamford. I remembered my walks at Harvard, Boston University, and others with the friends that I had made in my first year of college. But now I'm naked, hanging from a ceiling, again expecting to feel the bite of the lash. Nor is it long in coming, as Lori does not even want me to kiss the flogger or ask for my use. Instead she draws her arm back, and lashes me against my outstretched breasts. "Ah!" I cry, "ah!" My entire body is to feel the flogger, and Lori circles around me, striking an area a few times, then moving on. Each stroke stings and probably marks, but I do not know or care. I have placed myself in this position, and I have nobody to blame but myself. "Ah!" "Ah!" There are no sounds in the playroom except for those of the flogger striking my flesh, the click of Lori's heels as she walks around me, and my moans and breaths. In spite of the treatment that I am receiving, I stand proud and tall, just as Mistress Janet has taught me to. "You have learned your lessons well," compliments Lori. "Yes, Mistress," I gasp, between strokes. My breasts, underarms, and thighs are all singled out for special treatment, and I feel the sting of each rubber strand as it strikes my flesh. I moan with both pain and pleasure, my mind divorcing itself from my body, as I enter that special submissive place in my mind. Which I did not know existed before I began to serve Mistress Janet. "Kiss the flogger," directs Lori. "Yes, Mistress," I answer, wondering how much time has passed and how many strokes I have endured, "thank you, Mistress Lori." "Are you a bondage slut?" asks Lori. "Ah!" I cry, as her fingers enter my sex and rub my clit, "yes, Mistress, I'm a slut!" I have a Masters in Business that I earned from Stamford University, heiress to a family fortune (though I have kept my name and position out of the papers so that I can achieve this mad scheme), yet I have been trained as a slave. And to my horror, I have come to enjoy it! Being kept naked, used physically and then sexually, made to serve another man or woman. "Slut!" Lori's fingers are coated with my secretions, and she does not have to order me to clean them when they are placed in my mouth. I do so automatically, without prompting from the Domme. "Gina, release this slave, I am not finished with her yet," Lori orders in a firm tone of voice. I am released from my bondage, only to be made to kneel in front of Mistress Lori, who is not seated in a chair similar to the one that Janet has in her Dungeon. She is dressed in a skintight PVC Catsuit, complete with a matching corset around her waist. "Lick my shoes," orders Lori. Without hesitation I get on my hands along with my knees, and Lori crosses her legs, and extends her right foot to my lips. She is wearing a pair of shoes on her feet that are locked to her ankles by a leather strap and a small padlock. I begin to lick and suck at the PVC material of her shoes without hesitation or shame. My skin still burns from the harsh flogging that I have received, but that only has made me more sexually excited. First Lori made me give myself an orgasm in her presence, something that Janet never did. Now I am asked to lick a Domme's shoes, and I do so without question, my sex wet with desire. Twice in one night Mistress Lori has made me do something different, and my heart thunders in my chest. I have discovered a new level of submission, and I yearn for more. "Does Mistress Janet know what sort of submissive that she has unleashed?" Lori demands. "Yes, Mistress," I answer. "Does she whip you to a frenzy?" "Yes, Mistress." "Make you scream with pain and pleasure?" "Yes, Mistress." "Get over my knee, Cheryl. You need a paddle on your bottom, and I'm going to administer it!" I quickly follow her orders, and I am now resting on her lap. Then I smell the PVC that Lori is wearing, and my own scent is that of intense arousal. Gina hands Lori a leather paddle, and my bottom is rubbed in advance of my next use. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! "Thank you, Mistress!" I cry after five harsh strokes, my bottom burning from the impacts Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! "Thank you, Mistress," I gasp, tears falling from my eyes, for Lori has struck me harder on my bottom than Janet ever has. "Kiss the paddle," orders Lori. I do so without question, even as I feel my bottom burning from the use that it has already suffered. Then I feel Lori's fingers between the cheeks of my abused bottom, and I wonder if I am going to be used there too! "Should I use all of your holes tonight, Cheryl, or leave your ass for tomorrow? Or are you already totally submissive?" "I'm submissive, Mistress. You may use me in any way that you like." "On the floor, Cheryl, on your knees," orders Lori. I do as I am told, wincing when my bottom touches the heel of my feet. My rear has been used quite harshly, and I wonder how I am going to sit down afterwards. "Gina, take this slut to my bedroom in a few minutes after you clean her up. I shall have her this night." "Yes, Mistress," answers Gina. Lori exits the playroom, leaving me alone with Gina. I am taken upstairs, and Gina cleans the sweat from my body, and my sex with a scented towelette. I am then perfumed again, and my hair brushed and set. Looking at myself in the mirror, I am amazed at the stripes that the flogger has left on my skin. In her bedroom, Lori is naked upon the sheets, her fragrant sex open to my attentions. Without being ordered to, I quickly apply my lips and tongue to her sex, thinking of how I pleasured Mistress Janet last week. Then I notice that Gina has removed her leather clothes, and joins us in bed. She gets under me, then begins to work on my sex just as I am doing with Mistress Lori. I am having a hard time concentrating on pleasing Lori as I am being pleasured at the same time. My legs are open wide, and Gina plays her tongue over my clit, making me moan with pleasure. "You must make me come before Gina makes you come, else you shall be beaten again," describes Lori. With renewed vigor, I attach myself to Lori's lovebox, determined not to succumb to Gina's attentions. I apply myself, using everything that Tina has taught me in the arts of pleasing a woman, and eventually I succeed in making Lori moan and buck with pleasure. Gina then removes herself from my sex, and I see that my juices are on her lips. We kiss, before Lori pulls me closer to her. She pulls the quilt over the two of us, and Gina leaves the room, closing the lights behind her. Lori and I made languid slow love after that, until we both fall asleep together. Even though I have been harshly used and my skin burns, I feel quite happy about tonight. I fall into a dark, dreamless sleep. Part Two: The Rack - Saturday October 24, 1998 It was late afternoon, and I was tired after a day of sightseeing around Boston. I have not been a tourist anywhere for a long time, and now my feet hurt. "Would you like to rest?" asked Lori. "Yes, Mistress," I answer. True to her words of last night, on Saturday morning after breakfast the two of us had set out together. We had seen all of the usual tourist sites in Boston, then trudged through the city. I had followed her without question. We go into a restaurant, and get a window seat. I look out the window, and see the grounds of Harvard University, where I had gone to school for a year before I transferred to Stamford in California! Lori orders coffee for the two of us, and after the waitress delivers it, we are left alone. Her eyes bore into me like drills. "Have you ever been here before, Cheryl?" plainly asks Lori. "No, Mistress," I answer, lying through my teeth. I wonder if Lori can detect that I am lying to her? "If I contact a friend of mine in the admissions department of Harvard, will she find your name?" questions Lori as she sips her coffee. "No, Mistress," I answer softly. "I have contacts and friends in many colleges in the Boston area, some say that it's the main industry here. If not Harvard, perhaps Boston University, or somewhere else? You don't seem like a Yale type to me," observed Lori. "I went to Stamford University in California, Mistress, and received an MBA in Finance. My background is known to Mistress Janet." "I'm sure that it is, Cheryl. Except that it doesn't answer the question of why you're here, after my seeing you at that shop in LA." "I'm here to be trained by Mistress Janet, then loaned out to you so that I may experience another Domme, Mistress Lori," I curtly answer. Lori says nothing in return but merely sips at her coffee, and stares at me. Her black eyes bore into me as before. "Tonight, after Dinner, I shall put you to the ultimate test, Cheryl. Did you see the full contents of my playroom last night?" "Yes, Mistress, I saw the rack," I answer. "That shall be your test, Cheryl, the rack. You can, of course, refuse. That is your right." "No, Mistress," I answer, "that will be quite all right. I accept the rack willingly." "Brave words for one clothed in a restaurant in the heart of Boston, but you may change your mind later." It has been five months sine I have entered into the world of submission. I have been stripped naked, flogged, cropped and whipped. All of my orifices have been used repeatedly, and I have been lent out to Janet's associates. I wear a collar, ring, and chain on my ankle. There is nothing left for me but the rack. "Tonight, Mistress," I answer, "I shall prove my submission." We meet Gina for Dinner at another restaurant, Durgen Park outside Fanueil Hall. Originally, I had thought that we might have gone to Legal Seafood, but we had fish the previous night. Usually, I would be serving Dinner to Mistress Janet, either naked or wearing a Maid's uniform. Instead, someone else is serving us, and I feel the leather collar around my neck marks me as a slave. I eat a large steak and baked potato, and my only deference to Mistress Lori is that I do not have any alcohol to dull my senses. We are three women friends out for Dinner, and a man comes out of the crows at the bar to try to pick up Gina. She politely declines, and he leaves us alone after that. After Dinner, we go to an Art Gallery opening. A friend of Lori's has an exhibition of his paintings. I stand off to one side as Lori circulates the crows, and eat some cheese and more soda. We get back home, and Lori suggests that I rest in my bedroom. I take the opportunity, undress, and fall into bed, into a deep dream filled sleep of my time under the lash of Mistress Janet. "Good evening," I hear through the fog of sleep. "What time is it?" I ask. "Eleven thirty," Gina answers. I sit up naked in bed, and rub my eyes. After my rest, I feel reinvigorated, ready for anything. Even the rack. "I had better get ready, then," I say aloud to Gina. "Yes, I'll help." I wash, the warm water returning me back to full awareness. Much to my surprise, Gina does not ask me to go through the ritual of rouge and perfume. Once I am clean and ready, she cuffs my hands behind my back and places a blindfold over my eyes. Then I am marched down to the playroom, and made to kneel. I have not even been gagged, which is a surprise. My time on the rack is to be direct and with a minimum of ceremony. Gina removes my blindfold, and I see that Lori is seated in her chair. I remain silent, as my training has taught me. "Do you now accept the rack, Cheryl?" Lori asks. "Yes, Mistress," I answer. "You may still back out." "Please place me on the rack, Mistress?" I ask. "As you wish. Gina, please assist me." I am released from my handcuffs, and made to lie down on the rack. My wrists and ankles are placed within fur lined cuffs, and locked. I am in the familiar shape of an X, my body totally exposed. "You may still back out, Cheryl." "No thank you, Mistress Lori." "What is your safeword?" "Sin, Mistress," I answer. "Remember it well," Lori cautions. Lori ever so slowly begins to turn the wheel, and I hear the ratchets click one after another. I do not feel anything yet, as merely the slack is taken up. But ever so gradually the tension begins, as I am pulled flat. "Are you all right, Cheryl?" "Yes, Mistress," I answer. I stare resolutely at the ceiling light, concentrating on the light bulbs. My body is pulled taut, my breasts flat against my chest. Lori begins to fondle me, and my breasts are her first objects of attention. She pulls at my nipples, which are erect, then holds one entire breast in her hand. Then one of her hands traces the outlines of my sex, and I moan with pleasure. "Ah!" I cry. My reward is to hear the ratchets click further and I am pulled tighter. If anyone had told me a year earlier that I would be in this position, I would have told him or her that they were crazy. Instead this is the final test of my submission. "Ah!" "AH!" The pain is intense, and I swallow, my mouth has suddenly become dry and like paper. Fear and pleasure mixed together in a strange manner that I have never experienced before. I have a achieved a new feeling of total submission that is new to me. "Are you all right, Cheryl?" Lori asks. "Yes, Mistress," I answer. "You are very brave, Cheryl," compliments Lori. After what seems like an eternity, the chain is released, and the tension on my body falls away. I feel like I am seven feet tall as Gina helps me to sit up and take a drink of water. "Are you all right?" asks Gina. "Yes, thank you." That night, I am not used again. I spend the night with Gina in a big double bed, and I suspect that she is awake through the night to keep an eye on me. I go back to sleep, wondering if my time on the rack was just a dream as well. Part Three: Remembrance of Things Past - Sunday October 25, 1998 My apartment is just as I have left it. The Times is on the doorstep and I carry it inside with me. I place my coat back in the closet, and pour myself a stiff drink. For all of the terror that the rack generated in me, I was not seriously hurt by it. Lori knew just when to stop before any real damage would happen. Sunday I took a hot bath to relieve the tension in my joints, given breakfast, then sent on my way by eleven. Lori gave me a short exit interview, and then I departed for home. My training is now over, and I have the marks to prove it. I am a slave, have been loaned to two of Janet's associates. A Male Dominant has used me, followed by a Dominatrix. It is now time. From the top dresser drawer, I remove the manila envelope, and look at the pictures of her. Before and after, realizing that I have followed the path that she did, into submission. I will call my contact in Hong Kong and set into motion my final plan. In scene language, the bottom will control the top. In plain language, I am now going to humiliate Mistress Janet, then make my final demand on her b efore going home. Chapter 14: The Legacy - Part One: Borrowed Time - July 1992 "Mistress, are you all right?" asked Andrea, concern and worry on her face. "What?" answered Erica, struggling back to consciousness. Erica realized that she had fallen asleep at her desk, resting her hands on the desktop, her arms for pillows. She had gone into the library to write a report on that new girl, Janet Davis who she had used the previous weekend. Then had she had dropped off to sleep, exhausted. "Are you all right?" "I'm tired," answered Erica. "I'll get you some coffee, Mistress. Then we have something to discuss," replied Andrea as she left the library for the kitchen. Erica wanted to get to her feet to follow Andrea, but found that she was too tired even to do that. She had used Janet all weekend, and now here it was Sunday afternoon, and she felt like she had run the NYC Marathon! "Here's some coffee, Mistress," said Andrea after she returned and handed Erica a steaming cup. "Thank you, Andrea," replied Erica as she sipped at the black liquid, the heat and caffeine restoring her. "You're welcome, Mistress." "What do you want to talk to be about, Andrea? And please take a seat." "Thank you, Mistress," answered Andrea as she sat in a library chair directly opposite Erica, "it's about Janet Davis." "Go ahead." "Why are you training her?" "Sally suggested that her friend wanted to try something new, since her sex life was a bore. Which was what she told me verbally, and in her written bio." "Do you really believe that, Mistress? That a normal heterosexual woman who is bored with her vanilla sex life would suddenly decide to serve a Dominatrix? Plus the face that she has no experience in the scene." "What of it?" "She must have had some boring sex life then. I would have thought that you would have been at least more curious before you placed her under the lash," commented Andrea. "Are you questioning my judgement?" "Yes, Mistress, when it concerns your reputation as a Domme," pointed out Andrea. "What else? I know that look in your face, Andrea, out with it." "What happened Saturday night?" "I don't know what you're talking about," answered Erica. "Did Janet tire you out? I know how you train new slaves, Mistress. And you wimped out on using the whip on her. That is, unless you want her to become Tiffany's lover?" "I felt that she had been used enough," answered Erica. "All right then, I suggest that you compare her training records to those of the others. You will find that she hasn't received nearly enough use as compared with the others at the same stage of their training." "Thank you, Andrea, for bringing that to my attention," said Erica. "I think that if a new girl like Janet can tire you out, I suggest that you see a doctor, Mistress." "Next week, Andrea," answered Erica, afraid to go back to a doctor. "Tomorrow, Mistress. Please?" "What's the problem?" asked Doctor Anderson. Erica sat in the doctor's examination room, on the table. Now she was the one being examined, not one of her slaves. "I'm tired all the time, sleepy. Can't concentrate, and I tire easily." "All right, then, I'll start with an exam and a blood sample. Roll up you sleeve, and let's get started." "Yes, Doctor." She submitted herself to a full physical exam, including samples of her blood and urine, being weighed and a heart exam. Everything that she had been avoiding for a very long time. Finally, she was allowed to dress, and was conducted into the office to sit quietly. Erica waited for the results of the blood analyzer. It was a new device that could do things that formally had to be sent out to a lab. Doctor Anderson entered his office, and closed the door behind him. The serious look on his face told Erica that what he had to say was nothing good. "I'm sorry I took so long," he excused himself. "That's all right," answered Erica. "Thank you," he said as he sat behind his desk, a manila folder in his hands. "How am I?" "I've been a doctor for many years, Erica. There's no good way to deliver news like this. Your hemoglobin count is very low, and I'm going to give you a prescription for iron pills. Also, eat as much red meat as you can, even if you have to have steak for breakfast. But that's not the main problem." "What is?" "Your blood count is very low also, and I want you over in the hospital tomorrow for further tests. I think that you may have leukemia, and we have to determine what type and if it's treatable." "Thank you," answered Erica softly. "There have been many advances over the years in treating leukemia, Erica. Drugs, radiation, marrow replacement, and if we've caught it early you have a good chance of having a normal life........." Erica sat in the bar, and opened a pack of cigarettes that she had just purchased from the machine. After all that she had gone through years ago to quit, now she wanted nothing more than a cigarette and bourbon over ice. She lit the cigarette, and inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs, happy that she didn't embarrass herself by coughing in response. Then she followed the puff with a swig of whiskey that burned her throat making her feel more alive than anything did in days. "You OK lady?" asked the bartender. "Fine, thank you." After hearing the news, she had called Andrea to tell her to cancel the one session that she had planned for Monday night. Since she didn't want to get caught in rush hour traffic, she had pulled into a bar and restaurant for a drink. She had planned a session for Beth Summers, one of her favorite slaves. But now her heart wasn't into it, after hearing the news that she was sick. Erica then called Andrea back to say that she wasn't having Dinner at home either, that Andrea should eat alone and that she would be home later. Her concentration was broken when the bartender placed a menu in front of her, and she looked at him. "Want some dinner to go with that bourbon?" he asked. Erica opened the menu, and finally noticed that other patrons were coming in and being seated for Dinner in the restaurant section. She had the bar all to herself, however. "Yes, I'll have the Prime Rib with French Fries, thank you. Medium Rare." "Thank you," he answered, "you don't want to drink and drive on an empty stomach." "No," answered Erica. When the Prime Rib arrived, complete with a sharp steak knife and a bottle of Steak Sauce Erica was actually hungry. The cut of meat was a good one, and it was very tender. So Erica laced into it, and finished the whole steak with the fries also. "Thank you, that was very good," said Erica as the dishes were cleared away. "You're welcome." It came as no surprise after the tests in the hospital when Erica discovered that she had leukemia. Overproducion of immature white cells, also called cancer of the blood. She had sat in the doctor's office, and he had given her pamphlets to read, and had talked about therapies, drugs, and treatments. But her mind was elsewhere, her concerns somewhere else. "Thank you, doctor," she said, shaking his hand on the way out. BEEP! The car horn behind her had startled Erica back to the real world, and she pressed on the gas to get moving into traffic. She pulled over into a McDonald's and ordered coffee, and wished for a drink instead. Death. She had cheated death when Stephanie had saved her life, inadvertently placing her on the path to submission when she had been a painslut to Mistress Martine. Then, in a strange twist of fate she had saved Stephanie from serving Lauren, who had learned all of the wrong lessons from their common Master, Daniel. Erica had died twice, but as Alana Peters. First after the car accident that had placed her on the path to D/s. Then in her Amazon trip to Brazil when she abandoned her former life to become Erica Riken. She swallowed, and wanted a cigarette. After finishing her coffee, she drove the remaining distance home, and told Andrea that she wanted to be alone in the library. Fortunately, she had no sessions today. Else they would have been canceled also. `I don't want to be an object of pity,' Erica thought to herself, `a Domme who can't hold a crop.' For the first time in years, she buried her face in her hands, and cried. Tears fell from her eyes, into her hands. They leaked onto the desktop blotter through her fingers, falling like raindrops. Part Two: Janet Davis - July 1992 "It's been a long time," said Karla. Erica had called Karla to investigate Janet Davis, to have him dig into her past and provide a full biography for her. They met in a parking lot to exchange money for his work. "Have you done what I asked?" "Yes, here it is," he said, handing it over, "pretty small fry, don't you think?" "That's my affair," answered Erica. "Janet Davis, secretary. Earns eighteen thousand a year. Works in Manhattan. Drives a ten year old Plymouth. Hardly the type to circulate in your circles, don't you agree?" "Thought you didn't ask questions?" "I don't," replied Karla as he opened the car door, "see you next time." "Thanks." `If there is a next time,' thought Erica. It was Saturday morning, and Janet would be helping Andrea with the household chores. She was treated like any new prospect: kept naked, collared and wearing bracelets, and her feet locked into punishing five inch high-heels. Before she had left the house, Janet had been paraded in front of Erica. Andrea had bathed and perfumed her, and Janet seemed eager and ready to serve. Her naked skin was freshly marked from the session that she had undergone the previous evening. Sally had told Erica that her friend was a little sexually inexperienced. She should have said that Janet was very sexually inexperienced, that had been a great understatement and Sally would one day pay for her inaccurate remarks. The house seemed like a prison, and Erica had wanted to get away for a while. She went to a restaurant, and got a booth all the way in the back, away from others. There she ordered a Coke, and sat reading Janet's file. Middle class upbringing, public schools, Queens College. Parents dead, one brother in Colorado. No serious debts, disdains jewelry, dresses well (worked at Macy's starting in High School), owns an old car. Takes the train every day to work in Manhattan. The very life that Alana had wanted to have was an anonymous one that would have left her free to enter the world of submission. But Erica had not been free, really. Serving Daniel, unable to have Keith for her Master, finally discovering that her true talent had been as a Dominatrix. Once Erica had gotten Karla's report on Janet she had wanted to demand the reason for why she had wanted to serve a Mistress. If necessary, she would beat the reason out of her, then send her packing. `No,' Erica thought to herself in silence, sipping at her Coke, `I knew nothing about submission either until I met Martine. I could afford Martine, couldn't I? But Janet certainly can't afford the fee that I usually charge the rich women of Greenwich to beat their bottoms.' "Want some lunch?" asked the waitress, a pretty brunette. "No thanks, just thinking. Please get me another Coke?" "Sure." Erica stared at the ice cubes floating in the brown liquid, watching them swirl around in the glass. `I'm going to train Janet like all the others, even if I'm sick and she will be my last slave. She deserves a good Mistress that will love and respect her, even I can't love her in return. Maybe I'll respond to treatment, maybe my energy will come back so that I can take her to bed. She's the first slave to ever wear me out, and she's not even trained yet.' Erica placed a few dollar bills under the empty glass, and walked out into the July heat. She couldn't wait to get home as she got behind the wheel of her BMW. When she got home Andrea had Janet waiting for inspection, but Erica wanted to place her file in the safe first. Then she would see Janet, alone. "Enter!" called Erica. "Yes, Mistress," answered Janet. Janet walked in the library slowly, measuring each step in the heels that she was forced to wear. Erica noted that the woman had managed to become used to be kept naked after only a few weeks. Good, that was the first and hardest hurdle to jump. After that, being used physically and sexually would come quickly. "Kneel." "Yes, Mistress Erica." "Have you ever served a Mistress before, been whipped or cropped?" asked Erica. "No, Mistress." "Ever been spanked by another woman?" "Not until I came to serve you, Mistress Erica." "Why do you want to serve a Mistress, Janet?" asked Erica. "My sex life with men was unsuccessful, so I wanted to try something new. Sally has told me of how she enjoys submission, so I wanted to give it a try," nervously answered Janet, as she swallowed a huge lump in her throat. "Just like that? You knew that you would be whipped, cropped, and sexually used, yet you still wanted to serve a Mistress?" "Yes, Mistress Erica, those are my reasons." "It's all right, Janet. They are quite good enough for me, and I said last month that I was satisfied with your interview," explained Erica, "now I want you to get on my lap, because I want to use a hairbrush on that bottom of yours." Erica rose from the desk chair, picked up the brush, then seated herself on the leather couch. She watched as Janet did as she had been ordered, presenting her naked bottom for Erica's use. "Are you submissive Janet?" asked Erica. "I want to learn submission, Mistress Erica," answered Janet. Erica fondled Janet's firm breasts, holding the globes in her right hand. The she placed her hand between Janet's legs, and felt the already wet sex. Her slit was moist and wet with excitement! "Are you going to behave?" demanded Erica. "Yes, Mistress." "You're such a good girl, Janet." Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! The hard wood of the brush smacked against Janet's upraised bottom, making her flinch with each stroke. Even though each stroke was harder than the one before, Janet resolutely remained seated on Erica's lap. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! "That's enough for now, Janet, I'll be using you tonight in the Dungeon after Dinner." "Thank you, Mistress," cried Janet as she got shakily to her feet. "You've done very well, Janet, for a new girl in so short a time," complimented Erica. "Thank you, Mistress." "Now go help Andrea in the kitchen with Dinner." "Yes, Mistress." `Yes,' thought Erica, `I shall train her with love and understanding. If she's so eager to learn submission then I must train her.' "What is your safeword, Janet?" "Mercy, Mistress." "Make sure that you do not forget it," advised Erica. "Yes, Mistress!" Janet was on her knees in the Dungeon, her hands bound above her head to the ceiling chain. Her breasts protruded, and she was sweating from the use that she had already undergone earlier. Taking a wooden stool from the wall, Erica sat down in front of Janet and held a crop in her hands, flexing the leather covered bamboo in her gloved hands. The crop had a leather pad at the end, which was what would be used on her. Erica could see how Janet watched the pad with anticipation in her eyes. "Hold out your breasts." Janet did so, and her reward was to have them struck several times lightly with the crop. She did not flinch, cry out, or draw back. Instead she remained in placed, and took the crop on her pretty well formed breasts, which bounced slightly after each impact. "Very good, Janet." "Thank you, Mistress." Erica got to her knees, and began to lick and suck at Janet's erect nipples, making the woman moan in response. What the crop could not do, Erica's mouth would do instead. "Ah!" cried Janet. "Slut!" commented Erica her mouth full of Janet's breast. Erica then placed one of her hands between Janet's legs, and the slave opened her legs to facilitate the entrance of Erica's fingers into her love box. Janet moaned as her Mistress probed her privates. "Do you want to be my slave?" asked Erica. "Yes, Mistress." Erica could smell Janet's sweat from her use, but it wasn't the scent of fear. Rather it was of pleasure, for that was what she wanted. "Andrea shall have you tonight, Janet. Only after you have proven yourself to me shall I take you into my bed," stated Erica. "Please Mistress, make love to me?" asked Janet, disappointment in her voice. "Not yet, Janet, not yet." On Monday morning, when it was just Erica and Andrea in the house, Erica had ordered a cheese omelet for breakfast. Instead, Andrea cooked two scrambled eggs, and a small steak. Erica ate everything in silence. "What's wrong, Mistress?" asked Andrea, "why are you taking those iron pills, vanishing for hours, then eating beef constantly?" "That's my affair, Andrea." "Then why didn't you take Janet to bed on Saturday night, she certainly earned it?" "All right, then, Andrea, sit down!" commanded Erica. Andrea sat in one of the dining room chairs, next to Erica. She waited in silence. "I'm sick, Andrea. I have leukemia, I may be dying," said Erica as she broke down in tears, "and I'm so scared." "Mistress," answered Andrea as she held Erica close to her, as the Domme cried, the tears falling from her eyes. Part Three: Excalibur - October 1992 The treatments had begun to work and Erica had started to feel normal again. Her energy was returning, along with her sex drive. Mistress Erica had returned to her regular schedule and habits. Until the phone call had come from Dr. Anderson. Even with the treatments, it was just a temporary respite. She was still seriously ill, and had just three years to live. Andrea was preparing lunch in the kitchen when Erica walked in. She was just about to tell Erica that lunch would be ready soon. "Mistress?" asked Andrea. Erica removed a can of Coke from the fridge, then opened it and sat on a chair. She took a long swallow before she began to speak in a soft voice. "That was Dr. Anderson, Andrea. I'm dying. I may feel better now, but it' s just temporary. I'll start to decline again, become weak and sick again. If you want, I'll release you from your contract. Being a nurse wasn't part of the contract that we signed." Ding! "Lunch is ready, Mistress. Chicken pot pie," stated Andrea. "Let's eat together in here," said Erica, "screw formality for once." "Yes, Mistress." Mistress and slave sat down to an informal lunch of salad, pot pie, sodas, and finally cake. Erica stayed in the kitchen after eating, just to talk and have some company. "You know," said Erica, the funny thing is that I died twice already." "Mistress?" questioned Andrea as she did the dishes. "Just a figure of speech, Andrea." "Perhaps you could die again, and live once more, as someone else," suggested Andrea, "but have someone take your place." "I wish that I could do that, Andrea." "Wake up, Andrea," insisted Erica as she shook her slave awake. "What's wrong Mistress?" Andrea looked at the clock and saw that it was three in the morning. "What did you say after lunch?" "Bout what?" sleepily answered Andrea. "Dying and living again?" "If you were to die and have someone take your place, Mistress," Andrea answered, still half asleep. "Yes, that's it!" said Erica as she sat down on Andrea's bed. "What?" "I love you, Andrea." "Yes, Mistress," replied Andrea, convinced that Erica had finally gone crazy, somehow. "Sit down, Andrea. I have a question to ask you. What do you think of Tiffany Gray?" Erica and Andrea sat in the kitchen after breakfast, sharing another pot of coffee together. Outside was a dark gray winter sky. "Selfish, unstable, a liar, I have never trusted her, Mistress. I have even suggested that you cease being her Mistress." "Yes, Andrea, I remember. What do you think of Janet Davis?" "Eager to please you and learn, faithful. Willing to submit to you in all things. The best slave you've had in a long time, Mistress. I'm sorry that I ever suggested that you shouldn't train her." "Perfect then. Tell me, Andrea, if you died, would anybody miss you?" "You know that I'm all alone in the world, Mistress. I was an only child, and my parents are dead." "So if you vanished into a harem, you wouldn't be missed?" "No, Mistress." "How would you like to join me then in death and rebirth?" asked Erica. "Wait a minute, Mistress. You're not thinking of doing what I suggested yesterday are you?" questioned Andrea. "Yes," answered Erica, sipping her coffee, "yes, and I need your help. Janet must be trained and quickly while I still have the strength to do it." "Between Janet and Tiffany? How?" "A competition both financial and in Dominance and submission. Each to be awarded a portfolio of stock, they have to run the house for a year supervised by Blanca Sanchez, their activities monitored by her also then the winner gets the estate. Plus the loser as her slave," Erica described in detail. "Tiffany will cut her to pieces, Mistress," stated Andrea. "That's why we have to train her correctly, now don't we? When I loan Janet to Stephanie, I'll tell her not to place Janet on the rack, for example. " "She will, anyway, you know how much she loves a new girl. And Janet is just the sort that she desires." "I'm counting on it, Andrea," answered Erica. Part Four: The Final Plans - May 1993 It was only by her strength of will that Erica mad managed to retain enough strength to continue training Janet. She had given many of her other slaves and paying clients to other Dommes, simply because she no longer had the energy to service them all. Some of her wealthy clients were bitterly disappointed, complained that she had serviced their submissive needs for years. That Erica had been the perfect Dominatrix, and that they would gladly pay her anything to continue. Erica had never been a Domme for the money. She had been quite well off from the family estate before she had began as Mistress Erica serving the needs of the elite in Greenwich CT. Over the years, she had taken her earnings, and placed them into the stock market. In 1987, she had made a killing by suddenly liquidating everything in the family's stock portfolio, including stock that had been held for generations. Weeks before the crash, she had sold everything, sensing that the market was simply too high. In just one decision, she had increased her cash position many times, and she had called on Blanca to keep her name out of the Wall Street Journal. Strange how in 1980, when she had done her first deal as an investment banker, she had wanted an article about her in the Journal so very much. Now, in her position as Domme, even though she had amassed a vast fortune in her own name, publicity was the last thing that she had wanted. She had bought portfolios of stock again for both Janet and Tiffany, and had arranged for brokers to handle their accounts, beginning after her death. Enough money had been siphoned off into accounts into the Cayman Islands that would provide her with enough money to live on in the time remaining to her, and to set Andrea up with a comfortable estate as well. She could have used Switzerland for numbered accounts, but the Caymans were a lot closer. Somehow the prospect of her own death no longer frightened her as it did almost a year earlier. Creating the competition between two of her slaves had given her a purpose and goal to continue living. She would even live the year to see who would win the competition. Janet's slave training had been almost rushed to an incredible degree. Used herself one week, she had been allowed to use other slaves the next. Every week that Erica had called to arrange for her Friday night pickup, she had been afraid that Janet would refuse her. Instead Janet eagerly sought to please her Mistress, having no idea of what was in reality being planned for her. Even when Stephanie had scared her half to death by placing her on the rack, Janet still wanted to serve a Mistress. It was only icing on the cake when Stephanie had allowed Janet to use her own slave Camille for a transgression. `I'm sorry, Janet,' Erica thought in silence. `I'm going to place you in a test that you know nothing about, possibly endanger your life, in a competition with a woman that you think of as your lover and friend, Tiffany. Please forgive me?' Janet had been bound and whipped into a sexual frenzy, her body covered in stripes every week. Her pussy had been shaved for months now, with Andrea shaving her each Sunday on her departure. Janet had never commented or protested to Erica about that new violation of her womanhood. Erica wondered sometimes just how much internal strength that the woman really had, her personality certainly didn't betray any indication of the nerves of steel that Janet must posses. Her choice of Janet against Tiffany would place two almost exact opposites against the other. Janet was cool, calm, and determined. Tiffany was emotional, easily excited, and possessed a short attention span. Tiffany would no doubt regard her sudden wealth as a gift from heaven. Janet would be far more suspicious about her sudden change in status. Even more so when she was fired from her job, and would find the clues around the house that Erica would have left for the two of them. It would not take long for them to realize that they were in for the test of their lives. `Forgive me, both of you, for the ton of bricks that are about to fall on you,' thought Erica, `but I don't want to go out as an object of pity, a sick Domme dying in a few years.' The week before, she had used Tiffany alone in the house, giving Janet the week off. Now it was Janet's turn, and Erica was determined to use her in the most sensual manner possible, as a last parting gift to her final slave. Erica had also made it her business to bring Janet to a few parties and clubs to show her around. She wanted others in the D/s community to know that Janet was her slave, but for far different reasons than normal. "Mistress," interrupted Andrea from the library door, "Janet has arrived." "Thank you, Andrea, you may conduct her into the library after you take her coat." "Yes, Mistress." Janet was soon seated in front of Erica. She was wearing a white blouse, plaid skirt, and red hose and heels. Holding herself stiffly, waiting for the first orders of her Mistress. "What did you do the previous weekend, Janet?" asked Erica. "I went out on Friday and Saturday nights as you ordered, Mistress. To a local bar and a disco." "What happened?" "Nothing, Mistress. A few men tried to pick me up, but none of them appealed to me." "So you disobeyed my instructions that go home with a man to have sex so that he could see your marks?" "Yes, Mistress," truthfully answered Janet. Erica had her followed the whole two nights, and all of the contacts that she had made had been reported back to Erica. "You have disobeyed my instructions, Janet. You do realize that this will mean a severe punishment?" "Yes, Mistress." "I shall use you harshly and make you cry, Janet. I shall leave your flesh marked more heavily than usual, for the crime of disobedience." "Yes, Mistress." "Strip," ordered Erica. Without any hesitation, Janet rose to her feet and silently and quickly removed all of her clothing. She folded all of her clothes neatly on the chair that she had just occupied, and soon stood naked in front of Erica. "Get up on one of the other chairs," commanded Erica. Janet did as she was told, her knees resting on the leather cushions, holding onto the top of the chair with her hands. Her breasts pushed against the seat back cushion. She waited for Erica's next move. >From the desk drawer, Erica removed a paddle, which she held in her right hand. She slapped it against her left as a display of power. "Do you consent to your use, Janet?" "Yes, Mistress Erica." "What is your safeword?" "Mercy, Mistress Erica." Erica rose from the desk and stood behind Janet. The paddle was offered to Janet's lips, and she kissed it without having it ordered to. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! "Thank you, Mistress!" cried Janet after five harsh strokes that quickly reddened her bottom. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! "Thank you, Mistress!" Erica placed her hand against Janet's bottom, and the red flesh was hot from the ten strokes. The she placed her hand up between Janet's legs to her shaven sex, and probed within. "Do you miss your pubic hair?" asked Erica. "Yes, Mistress," cried Janet. "How does having your sex like this feel?" "I feel naked, even when I'm wearing clothes," answered Janet, "when my panties rub against my pubes, Mistress." "Does this always remind you of me?" "Yes, Mistress." "Get off the chair and take your clothes to Andrea. She will outfit you and place you in the Dungeon for my use. Do not disappoint me this weekend, Janet." "No, Mistress." "Go!" Erica watched as Janet fairly ran out of the library, naked and holding her clothes. There was no longer any doubt; her submission was now total to her Mistress. Erica had dressed in a sleeveless Catsuit with just a pair of modest matching black heels. She had placed a belt around her waist to accentuate her figure, from which she had hung a pair of gleaming stainless steel handcuffs for effect. In the Dungeon was Janet, already bound against the whipping post. Her legs were locked open about two feet, her hands behind her back that was against the wooden post itself. Andrea had placed a leather strap above her breasts and one around her waist, welding Janet to the device. "Helpless, aren't we?" asked Erica upon her entrance. "Yes, Mistress." "I'm going to strike you with a crop on your breasts and stomach, with the rod itself. It will hurt and mark, but only for ten strokes. For the crop and paddle will only be your warmup for tonight." "Yes, Mistress." Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! "Thank you, Mistress!" cried Janet, tears flowing from her eyes, for Erica had struck her tender breasts. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! "Thank you, Mistress!" "Very good, Janet," complimented Erica, "hang her from the ceiling, Andrea. Janet shall be flogged tonight, then whipped tomorrow." "Yes, Mistress." When Janet was hanging by her wrists, Erica made certain to place clamps on her nipples and shaven sex, making her moan with each application. She cried out, but did not ask for their removal. "Perhaps I shall use clothespins on you next time, Janet. They can provide quite a bit of agony as well." "Yes, Mistress," cried Janet. "Kiss the flogger." Erica had chosen a heavy leather flogger. It would hurt fiercely, and mark immediately as well. "Two weeks ago, I used you lightly. Do you remember?" "Yes, Mistress." "I shall make up for not using you properly, and last week as well." "Thank you, Mistress." "You shall count each stoke, and thank me after every five." "Yes, Mistress." "One!" "Two!" "Three!" "Four!" "Five, thank you, Mistress!" The only sound in the Dungeon was the heavy thud of the flogger and Janet' s counting of each stroke. Her body bound, and now punished severely by Erica, Janet instead hung proudly in her chains. "Six!" "Seven!" "Ten! Thank you, Mistress!" Erica watched in admiration as her slave soaked up every heavy stroke of the flogger. Just a year before, Janet had known nothing, indeed had not been spanked since childhood. Now she was a true slave in sub-space, able to divorce her body from her mind. "Eleven!" "Thirteen!" "Fifteen! Thank you Mistress!" There were no tears in Janet's eyes as she was flogged, she merely strained against her bonds. Her pretty breasts with the clamps on her nipples shook with every stroke from the flogger. "Eighteen!" "Twenty! Thank you Mistress!" Erica paused briefly to run her fingertips over Janet's heated and punished flesh. Janet was going to be severely used this night, but she did not cry out. Instead she awaited Erica's next move. "You're very beautiful, Janet," complimented Erica. "Thank you, Mistress," panted Janet in response. "Just a few more strokes, Janet." "Yes, Mistress." "Twenty-one!" "Twenty-three!" "Twenty-five! Thank you Mistress!" gasped Janet, her chest heaving. "Twenty-seven!" "Thirty! Thank you Mistress!" "Thirty-three!" "Thirty-five! Thank you Mistress!" cried Janet, tears falling from her eyes. "Thank you, Janet," said Erica, as she kissed her slave on the lips, "you' re very brave, and loyal." "Mistress........." Janet's body was covered in fresh red marks and drenched with sweat. Her hair that had been so nice earlier in the night was now a mess of tangles. But the girl had never looked so proud under Erica's lash before. "Andrea, release her, give her a bath, then have her in my bedroom in an hour or so. I want to have my slave show her appreciation in the arts of love," ordered Erica. "Yes, Mistress," answered Andrea. "I love you, Janet," said Erica. "I love you too, Mistress." Erica left the Dungeon, not even bothering to have Janet kiss the flogger that she handed to Andrea on the way out. She made it back to the library, then sank into the chair, exhausted from the ordeal that she had just inflicted on Janet. `I'm dying,' Erica thought to herself as she buried her face in her hands, then began to cry alone. Erica entered her bedroom, to find Janet waiting naked on the floor. Her hand were locked behind her back, her collar chained to the ring-bolt set in the wall. "Are you ready to make love to your Mistress?" asked Erica. "Yes, Mistress Erica!" Quickly, Erica removed the shoes and Catsuit, and underneath she wore a lace black bra and panties, which she quickly removed. While Andrea had been bathing Janet, Erica had fallen asleep. She had needed a short nap to recharge before sex. Erica sat on the edge of the bed, and allowed Janet to begin by servicing her while she was still bound on the floor. This way, all she could use was her lips, tongue, and teeth to bring Erica to orgasm. Quickly Janet began to work on Erica's love nest, her lips touching Erica' s sex lips, her tongue probing deep inside her love canal tickling her love bud. Janet pushed herself against Erica, inhaling the scent of her secretions, knowing that she was satisfying her Mistress. "Ah!" cried Erica. It had not taken Janet long at all for Erica to be stimulated into orgasm as Janet tickled her clit time after her. She threw her head back and moaned, her bottom bouncing on the bed. Erica then pulled Janet onto the bed, and quickly released her hands. She then lay down on the bed and opened her legs to admit Janet once more to her sex. With only that pause, Janet began again to satisfy her Mistress. They both moaned in pleasure as Janet brought Erica one orgasm after another, all of her energies and training directed at the singular goal of pleasing the Mistress. "Ah!" "Ah!" cried Erica. Sweat poured off Erica's body as she bounced on the bed, screaming her pleasure from one orgasm after another. Janet held onto her thighs, and continued to bury her face between Erica's legs. Finally, Erica was spent, her breaths ragged from the waves of pleasure that had washed through her like a tidal wave. She lay on the pillow, unmoving. "Are you all right, Mistress?" asked Janet. "Yes, Janet," Erica lied, "just a little jet lag I returned from California yesterday." "Yes, Mistress." "Come here, Janet, I want to hold you in my arms, for you are truly my best and most loving slave." Janet did as she was instructed, and held onto Erica. Why was her Mistress sweating so much? "Let me make love to you, Janet." "Yes, Mistress," said Janet. In contrast to Janet's hurried lovemaking, Erica began by playfully sucking on Janet's nipples. Her arms enfolded Janet, their scents mingling together as one. Erica then began to suck at Janet pussy, and slowly brought her to orgasm, her tongue tickling Janet's clit. Her languid lovemaking continued, until Janet shook with one climax after another. "Janet, would you like a drink?" asked Erica. "Yes, Mistress." Erica got two glasses of water from the bathroom, and they both drank together. "Thank you, Janet," said Erica. "For what, Mistress." "Everything," answered Erica as she closed the lights, then threw the sheets and quilt on the bed, then she joined Janet under the covers. Erica was asleep within minutes, leaving Janet puzzled by Erica's lack of energy. Janet lay upon on her back, and let sleep claim her too, the taste of Erica still upon her lips. Erica awoke with a start. Sunlight poured through the windows, and Janet was no longer chained beside her. Instead she was alone in bed, naked under the covers as she had fallen asleep during the night. "Mistress?" asked Andrea from the door. "What time is it?" "Ten, Mistress Erica." Andrea entered the bedroom, carrying a tray in her hands. She placed it on the bed after Erica sat up in bed. "Where's Janet?" "Chained in the kitchen, Mistress. Since you couldn't awaken, I took her, gave her a bath and breakfast, and told you had a case of jet lag. Then I brought up a tray for you." "Oh god, Andrea. It's the end. I can't continue," cried Erica as she buried her face in her hands. "Just one more night, Mistress. One more use of Janet, that's all. Here's your juice and pills." "Thank you," answered Erica as she drank her orange juice, then downed her medication and iron pills. "You're welcome, Mistress Erica. Breakfast is scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee." "Thank you, Andrea. Janet wore me out twice last night, once in the Dungeon, then later in bed." "I know. You were dead to the world, literally," answered Andrea, concern evident on her face. "I just hope that I have the energy to use her again tonight," said Erica. "Then I prescribe a bath, then you dress in your pajamas and spend the whole day in bed. Janet will bring you lunch, and Dinner can be like normal downstairs." "Thank you, Andrea. Is the slave now giving her Mistress orders?" Andrea reached over and kissed Erica on the forehead, then on her lips. "Get some rest, Mistress. Before I place a collar around your neck and lock you to wall myself." "Yes, Mistress Andrea." Later on, Andrea checked on Erica. She had showered and put on her pajamas, then had fallen asleep again. Lunch was forgotten as Erica slept into the afternoon, to be awakened much later for Dinner, her stomach rumbling from hunger. "What's for Dinner?" asked Erica after Andrea had awakened her. "Rib Roast, Mistress. Medium Rare." "Thank you, Andrea. Set the table for three, I want you and Janet to eat at the same table with me. We'll drop ceremony tonight." "Yes, Mistress." As Erica dressed for Dinner, she watched as snow fell outside. The peaceful whiteness brought back memories of her playing in the snow in the estate during childhood. Erica chose a Gucci dress with one shoulder strap that she usually wore to affairs. She had ordered that since Janet and Andrea were to share her table, they were not to wear Maid's uniforms. Andrea wore a simple blue dress, and Janet wore a blouse and skirt, though she still had the collar around her neck. Andrea carved off three ribs and served Erica first. In addition to the roast was salad, roast potatoes, and steamed green beans. Plus a bottle of red wine to top off the meal. Janet looked surprised to be dressed and share the table of her Mistress. She ate silently, only speaking when spoken to by Erica or Andrea. Dessert was a chocolate cake and coffee, and afterwards Erica adjourned to the library to do some paperwork. "I want Janet downstairs by nine," ordered Erica to Andrea. "Yes, Mistress." `I hope that I can perform tonight,' thought Erica to herself in the library. For simplicity's sake, Erica wore a Dominatrix dress in black PVC that covered her arms, but not her legs. She had taken to storing some of her fetishwear downstairs so she wouldn't have to run upstairs each time. The Domme dress was similar to a Catsuit, except that it ended in a dress instead of tight fitting legs. It was quite attractive, and once when she had gone to a disco, she had seen a woman wearing it. Erica wondered if the woman knew the true origin of the dress. She stared at herself in the mirror, depressed. Her career as a Domme was over at age 36 from exhaustion. Erica had wanted to do so much, and just when she had established a name for herself, she was dying instead. Dinner was one of the best that Andrea had ever made, the roast had indeed melted in her mouth. Erica wondered if next she'd start to gnaw on car bumpers for iron. "Do you submit to your Mistress?" demanded Erica. "Yes, Mistress." "Kiss the whip." In order to save time, Andrea had hung Janet from the ceiling in advance, her arms and legs opened by spreader bars. Erica had always disliked those Dommes who went right into using a slave without any preliminaries first. But there was now no time left, none at all to waste. "Yes, Mistress," answered Janet. Erica drew the whip back and began to strike Janet with a series of light methodical strokes. Unsure of how much energy she had left, she wanted to make whatever she did last as long as possible. Janet had already been well marked the day before, so she didn't have to be as intense. Still, she knew that Janet remembered her previous times under the lash. She was certain that Janet was already suspicious of her lack of energy, and any failure of performance now would only confirm her suspicions. "Do you accept my use of you, Janet?" asked Erica. "Yes, Mistress Erica." "There will be no need to count tonight, Janet. After I use you, I shall take you into my bed again." "Yes, Mistress." Erica then began to whip Janet, and she secretly dreaded what would happen if she should fail. But then a strange thing happened, her body suddenly became alive with strength, her muscles energized as they had not been for months. `What's going on?' Erica asked herself. The whip struck Janet again and again, and Erica could see the effect that it was having on her. Each stroke left a mark behind as the whip wrapped itself around her body. "Ah!" cried Janet. Crack! Crack! Crack! The whip continued to strike Janet, and Erica noticed that her slave had begun to sweat. Glistening droplets ran down her body, reflecting in the lights. Crack! Crack! Crack! "Ah!" In the past Erica would have stopped, and felt the overheated flesh of her slave. But now if she stopped, perhaps Erica would be unable to start again. So she continued with the whip, never breaking Janet's flesh but instead leaving welts behind that would last for some time. Crack! Crack! Crack! "Ah!" Erica looked briefly between strokes at Andrea, who was captivated by her performance. In her mind she had kept careful count of the number of strokes that she had delivered, mindful of the number that she knew that Janet could safely take. Crack! Crack! Crack! "AH!" It was the sudden change in Janet's voice that alerted Erica to the fact that Janet was close to her limit. Erica wanted to continue, to use the newfound energy that her body had provided. But instead she knew that she had to follow Janet's limit. Crack! Crack! Crack! Erica had delivered twenty-five strokes, all without breaking the skin or making Janet bleed. A splendid performance, given that Janet's body was now covered in red welts. "Thank you, Janet," complimented Erica what she ceased, "kiss the whip." "Yes, Mistress." Erica reached between Janet's legs and found that her sex was sopping wet. "Slut! Do you want to make love to your Mistress?" "Yes, Mistress Erica," quickly answered Janet. "Andrea, I'll be in my bedroom. Have Janet there in half an hour," ordered Erica. "Yes, Mistress." When Janet was conducted into Erica's bedroom, she found her Mistress naked on top of the quilt. Her legs open, a dildo and crop on the night table. "Please your Mistress," ordered Erica, "now!" Janet immediately set to work on Erica's sex, her arms free from any bondage. In fact, Erica had not chained her in any way, leaving her slave free. Erica soon moaned and bucked with a satisfying orgasm, her bottom bouncing on the bed. Her body covered with sweat, she soon turned over and began to use Janet. Her tongue quickly drove Janet to sexual madness, bringing her to climax as well. Then Erica slipped the dildo inside Janet's pussy, then began to suck her breasts and kiss her on the lips. Under Erica's fierce attentions, Janet soon had one climax after another, with her mouth, sex, and breasts stimulated by her Mistress. "Ooooooh!" cried Janet, "Mistress!" Erica continued bringing Janet to orgasm, wearing her slave out. Each climax seemed to give Erica herself new strength. Finally, Janet dropped off to sleep after they cuddled and kissed under the sheets. Next Erica slept soundly, naked against her slave. During the night, Erica awakened to look at Janet's face in the moonlight that was streaming through the window. On her face was the look of a slave who had been given both pain and pleasure by her Mistress, who was smiling in pleasure as she slept. `Janet, forgive me,' thought Erica. Part Five: Death and Rebirth - June 1993 "Are we both packed?" asked Erica, nervous as hell. "Yes, Mistress, everything's done," stressed Andrea for the second time. Erica had used both of her slaves for the last time, and had removed some of her fetish and regular clothing from the Mansion. Next she had left clues, an empty envelope from Janet's company in the bottom of the library desk, a letter in the computer. The will and codicil had been drawn up months before, along with the package of documents that Blanca would give to Janet and Tiffany. Every last detail had been attended to and gone over several times. Erica and Andrea had tried to second guess how Janet and Tiffany would respond once they inherited the estate, then realized that they were in a deadly competition with one another. Finally, the trip to Mexico, their deaths in the mountains in a plane crash (which would be faked, complete with a plane that Erica had purchased for that reason). Then going into hiding, and the new identities that had been created. "Mistress, why did you leave your journals in the safe?" asked Andrea. "Because if Janet finds them, she'll read and cherish them. Tiffany will probably ignore them at best, burn them in the fireplace at worst." "Who do you think will win?" questioned Andrea. "Janet." "Tiffany will cut her to ribbons, Mistress. I believe that Tiffany will be the winner." "No, Andrea, that's where you're wrong. Janet has nerves of steel, even if it's not obvious. She will win, mark my words. I just hope that I'm alive one year from now to see that come true." At the gate, a black limousine had pulled up. Erica hit the button to admit the car. "Black, how fitting," commented Andrea. "Come, Andrea. Death awaits." Chapter Fifteen: Endgame - Part One: Past and Present - Sunday November 15, 1998 .........Janet closed the last of Erica's Journals, dated 1992, tears in her eyes. She cried, and placed her head in her hands, and sobbed loudly, no longer caring if she awakened Tina or not. The tears splattered on the leather of Erica's last journal, like raindrops. Wetting the dry leather that had remained in the safe for years until Tina's chance discovery six months ago. "Oh Erica!" Janet cried, "I forgive you, I know you loved me. Why couldn' t you tell me when you were here that you were dying?" Suddenly it was all clear to Janet, why Erica had lied about the reason for her leaving her position as Mistress. How she did not want to be an object of pity, but wanted to go out in a memorable fashion. Looking at the dates involved, Janet realized that Erica had lived a long time with her leukemia. Perhaps it had gone into remission, maybe even a cure? But Erica had not returned to reclaim her estate, instead she had let Janet continue and develop into the Mistress that she had been trained to be. Janet dried her tears with a tissue, even as more tears flowed. She remembered how Erica had placed herself in submission to her last slave, and Janet's harsh use of her, finally drawing blood. "Now I understand, Erica," said Janet to herself. Erica's mistreatment at the hands of her first Master, then being beaten by Lauren. Janet now understood why Erica came to be the good Mistress that she was. Erica may have been a demanding Mistress who had tested Janet to her limits, but she had never forced Janet to do anything without her consent. Janet had never been humiliated by her, in public or in private. Finally, Janet had come to love her Mistress Erica, even as Erica was planning to put her in competition with Tiffany. Not knowing that Tiffany had allied herself with Lauren, her enemy. Janet glanced at the clock, and saw that it was already past one in the morning. Monday morning! And she had an important business meeting at nine! She replaced the last volume in the safe, then closed and locked it, along with the wooden panel. Janet closed the lights, and ran off to bed. Part Two: Humiliation - Monday November 16, 1998 Janet placed her briefcase on her desk before she hung her coat up in her office. It was raining, and she had worn her London Fog raincoat. She had chosen to wear a conservative DNKY blue business suit since she would be making her presentation at a major staff meeting. "Janet," greeted Clara, her secretary. "Yes, Clara. Lousy day, isn't it? Is there any coffee?" "The President called, he said to join him in his office the minute you arrived." "I'll be seeing him at a meeting in a half hour, I have to go over my notes." "He said immediately," stressed Clara, concern on her face. "Ok, I'll go over there now," answered Janet as she grabbed her purse from the desk. "I'll call and say that you're on the way." "Thanks," said Janet, wishing that she had gotten some coffee first. Walking to Ron's office, she wondered what was so important. The project was completed, she would make her presentation, and everything was on schedule. So what was going on? "He's expecting you," said Audrey, Ron's secretary, "go right in." "Thanks," answered Erica as she knocked, then opened the door. "Enter." Janet opened the door, and entered Ron's office. He wasn't alone, also in the office was Steven, one of the corporate attorneys. "You wanted to see me?" asked Janet as she closed the door. "Yes, Janet, please sit down. You know Steven." "Yes, we met last year," answered Janet as she sat down in front of Ron's desk. "I don't know how to begin this Janet. Do you remember that takeover attempt last year?" "What about my presentation?" "Canceled, along with the meeting." "What! I've been working on that for weeks!" cried Janet. "That's academic now, Janet. Please listen, this is very serious. Last year, we fended off a takeover attempt. Now it's back, with a vengeance." "I don't understand? What does this have to do with me?" "In the last few months, a firm that we never heard of before has bought enough of our stock to hand over control to the buyout firm that wanted to sell us off last year." "You're not making any sense, Ron. How does this relate to me?" "CB Enterprises, Hong Kong, has said that unless you're fired and accused of misusing your expense accounts, we'll be acquired within days. I'm sorry, Janet, but you're the price of our independence. You have to be fired under humiliating circumstances." "No! I've worked hard here!" "Janet, you have. But the choice is clear. Either you go, or the whole company gets broken up and sold. Think of all the people who'll lose their jobs!" "Can I think this over in my office?" asked Janet. "Sure, call me when you're ready," answered Ron. Janet sat in her office alone. She had a cup of steaming coffee in front of her, and wished that it were a sherry instead. Outside, it was lightly raining, which matched her mood perfectly. Buzz! `Who's calling me on my cell phone?' thought Janet. "Janet here." "Morning, Mistress." "Cheryl?" asked Janet. "Gotten the news yet?" "What news?" asked Janet surprised to hear from her slave, "wait a minute, CB Enterprises, Cheryl Branford Enterprises, that's you!" "Correct Mistress. Don't make too much of a scene about your public humiliation before you leave, there's more to come. I suggest that you accept the terms of your dismissal, no matter how humiliating. Including misuse of your expense account, and so on. It'll go easier on you if you do. Once you've cleaned out your desk, come join me in the Diner down the road. Quickly please? Bye." The connection was cut on the other end, and Janet was in shock again, for the second time since Midnight. She stared at the cell phone, wanting to smash it to little pieces on the floor. Tears fell from her eyes, as she contemplated her firing. "Good morning, Mistress," greeted Cheryl, seated in a booth, "please join me." After Cheryl's phone call, Janet was delivered a sealed note from her suggesting that she accept her terms of dismissal. Tearfully, she had gone back to Ron's office, and agreed to the humiliating terms of firing. Which would include a small notice in the Wall Street Journal the next day. Then Janet had been allowed to clean out her desk, and had left Xylex for the last time. She had then pointed the car towards the Diner, and to meeting with Cheryl. "Why?" demanded Janet. "Take off your coat first Janet, we're going to be here for a little while. Before you drip all over the seat." Janet removed her raincoat, and hung it on the nearest rack to their booth. It was late morning, and the rest of the breakfast crowd was still leaving. "That's better, Janet. Much more ladylike." When they were seated, Cheryl called a waitress over for coffee for the two of them, but did not begin speaking until they were alone. "How does it feel being fired?" asked Cheryl. "I've been fired before. Why Cheryl?" Janet demanded. "Because you liked that job, that's why," answered Cheryl, "no other reason." "Do you own CB Enterprises?" "The family firm." "Is that the price you wanted?" asked Janet, fearful of the answer. "No," answered Cheryl, sipping her coffee, "that was just a little demonstration of my power. Yours is with the lash and crop. Mine is with the purse." "What do you want?" "Don't rush things, Janet." "All right, then. I'm listening." "Good," said Cheryl, "you trained me very well, Janet. I can't look at a woman with a leather skirt on without wetting my panties, and the thought of being cropped gets me excited. I'm a slave." "Is that what you wanted to tell me?" "This Friday night, Janet, I want to use you, alone in your Dungeon. Just the two of us, without Tina present. Perhaps you could send her off to Lori, I'm sure that she'd love that cage in the playroom." "You want to use me?" asked Janet. "Yes, naked and in your own Dungeon, but with me in control, Janet. So you can feel my lash." "No." "If you refuse, I have several packets of information about you that will be delivered to local reporters, gossip columnists, and others. Your world will crash in on you Janet, you will be the object of scorn and derision in Greenwich." "No!" "I made three requests on you, and you have honored two. It's time to do the third, else you will no longer be a Mistress. Not in Greenwich, anyway," threatened Cheryl, steel in her voice. "If you want to use me out of anger to punish me physically, and to hurt or harm me, no. I did not train you that way and you did not perform in that manner when I offered you the chance to use others. If you want to use me sensually as I have used you to demonstrate what you have learned from me, then perhaps. But not alone," protested Janet. "Mistress, I am a very rich woman, able to buy and sell companies at a whim. I even own an island in the Caribbean with a staff loyal to me. Now I could have had a Dungeon built there and had the two of you abducted, serving me as slaves forever. Or have Tina silently taken while I force you under the lash. Instead I want to do this without force, please send Tina away. Then I'll use you once, and you'll never see me again." "I did exactly what you wanted me to. I trained you like any other slave, with love and respect, without hurt or humiliation. This is how you reward your Mistress?" "Yes, in a manner of speaking. Do you know who I am?" "No, you stopped me from investigating you, remember?" "Yes I did. On Friday night, after I unlock you from the thrashing I'm going to give you, then I'll tell you who I am. Then you shall never see me again. You took someone very close to me and turned them into a slave, now that I know and understand just what submission really means." "Who?" asked Janet, "who was it?" "That's for me to know, Mistress. Do you accept my use, or even more humiliation? Decide now, Janet. All it takes is one phone call." "Yes," cried Janet softly. "What was that, slave?" "Yes," answered Janet, tears in her eyes, "I accept your use, Cheryl." "Friday, Mistress, I'll be in touch. You can pay for the coffee." Janet was left alone in the booth, crying silently, tears in her eyes. In less than two hours, she had lost a job that she had liked and enjoyed. Then she had been forced to accept humiliating terms of dismissal to save the jobs of her friends and co-workers. Now Cheryl had revealed that she had been behind it all, with a demand that she wanted to use Janet for her own reasons. Janet took a few bills from her purse and placed them on the counter, put on her coat, and left for home. "Mistress?" greeted Tina, "why are you home so early." "I was fired, Tina. For misusing my expense accounts," answered Janet as she handed her wet raincoat to Tina in the foyer. "Mistress, you barely used those accounts," pointed out Tina. "Yes, Tina. That's quite correct, I wish to be alone in the library. I do not wish to be disturbed." "Yes, Mistress. I understand." Janet locked herself in the sanctuary of the library, and poured herself a stiff drink now that she was finally alone. She sat behind her desk, and wanted to cry. But she was out of tears for the moment. Humiliated. She had been humiliated by a woman that she had placed so much effort into training correctly. There they had been together in the diner, with Cheryl clearly wearing the small leather collar around her neck and Janet's ring on her finger. Cheryl had first humiliated Janet by the manner of her firing. Now the price of her continuing as a Domme was her use by Cheryl, alone. What kind of person would Cheryl be when holding the lash? Janet had agreed, there was nothing else that she could do. Just like when Cheryl had forced herself upon Janet in June, blackmailing Janet into training her. Now Janet was blackmailed into being used by her own slave. In the safe was the money that Cheryl had been giving her for her training, just like the rest of Janet's other clients. Janet's blackmail was of a quite different kind, a physical one. First it had been to train Cheryl, now it would be her own body under the lash as the roles of Mistress and slave were to be reversed. Except that when Janet had used Erica, she had been a Domme for more than a year. Cheryl, meanwhile, had been a slave for just six months, and had used another slave only twice before. Part Three: The Interval - Wednesday November 18, 1998 "Tina?" asked Janet. "Yes, Mistress." Janet and Tina were in the library together, going over the reports on Janet's other slaves in training. It was strange again being home without her job and she missed both the work and getting out of the house. When she had arrived back home on Monday, Tina had been a little suspicious. Janet had told her that she was let go in an economy move, that her position had been eliminated. Until Tuesday when there was a small one inch long piece in the Wall Street Journal saying that she had been fired because of misusing her expense account, and her position at work. Tina had found the piece, and come running to show it to Janet. "I don't believe it," said Tina, "you've rarely used your expense account, never had a company car, and refused that promotion. Why would they let you go in an embarrassing manner like this?" "That's private, Tina." "No, Mistress. That's very public what they did to humiliate you." "Thank you, Tina, that will be all." Tina had never mentioned it again, but Janet knew that look in her eye. Janet knew that Tina had not believed her, and was suspicious of the explanation. So Janet had plunged back into her work as a Domme, and had realized that Cheryl had taken up a lot of her time. When she had weighed herself on the on the scale this morning (naked, of course) she found that she had lost five pounds. But it was seeing herself nude that had really scared her. The thought that she was going to be naked again, and under the lash of Cheryl that was potentially frightening. "What if she does want to hurt me?" asked Janet to herself. They worked together, discussing Dinner, running the Mansion, and slaves, which was Janet's main concern. But when to broach the subject at hand? "Tina, I have to tell you something," Janet began. "Yes, Mistress." They were seated at the kitchen table, manila folders spread out on the table, drinking Cokes together. "I have arranged that on Friday night, you are to be used by Mistress Lori. So you can take the Toyota to Brookline, be used by her Friday and spend the night, then return on Saturday." "Mistress?" asked Tina, shock on her face. "That's right, Tina. Just a one day use by Lori." "Yes, Mistress, it would be interesting to be used by Lori," answered Tina. Janet looked directly into Tina's eyes and saw that her slave was lying. Tina would have no intention of going to Lori's. Instead Janet knew she would go to Stephanie's and tell her the whole story, on Friday. "Thank you, Tina," Janet answered. "What about Cheryl this weekend, Mistress?" "I shall be alone with her, Tina. I'm quite able to handle her myself, thank you." "Of course, Mistress," answered Tina. Janet had avoided talking to Tina for the rest of the day when the phone buzzed into life. "Mistress Janet, is it all arranged?" asked Cheryl. "Yes, damn you. It's all set, Tina will be going off to Lori's on Friday morning." "Very good, Mistress. I see that you know how to take orders as well as give them. I hope that you perform as well under my lash." When the connection was severed on the other end, Janet felt like smashing the cordless phone against the floor. Wednesday night had been a disaster for Janet. Dinner had tasted like sawdust, she had no appetite. She had tried to entertain herself with books and television, and nothing held her interest. Then Tina had walked into the library wearing nothing but a robe, collar and leash, and asked Janet to use her. Janet had refused, and Tina had left her alone, disappointed. Finally Janet had gotten into bed, and after a short time, Tina had joined her. They had made love together slowly, and Janet had a series of disappointing orgasms, and had failed to excite Tina at all. "I'm sorry Tina," said Janet, "my mind isn't into sex tonight." "It's about Cheryl, isn't it?" "You know I won't talk about that, Tina. Please don't ask again." "Yes, Mistress," answered Tina, concern on her face, "then talk about Mistress Erica." Janet lay back on the pillow, in all of the years that they had been together, Tina had never asked about Erica. Until now. "What do you want to know?" asked Janet. "Why did you want to serve a Mistress?" "I was always having problems with the strange submissive feelings that I felt deep inside. When my friend told me about Erica, I jumped at the chance to serve her." "Did you love Erica?" asked Tina. "Yes, very much," Janet answered, "more than I loved another person in my life. Even though every weekend I served Erica I had new stripes on my body afterwards." "Did she ever hurt you?" "No, never. She tested my limits all right, scared me a few times, but no. It was Lauren that hurt me, remember?" "Yes, Mistress." "Tina, I don't want to be rude, but I've had a bad couple of days. This is the best pillow talk we've ever had, but I want to sleep." "Yes, Janet," answered Tina, "but I can't help thinking that somehow Cheryl and Erica are connected somehow, that the reason for Cheryl's presence is because of Erica." "Go to sleep, Tina," said Janet as she kissed Tina on the lips. "Yes, Mistress." Later that night, Janet awakened. She looked at Tina sleeping peacefully next to her, softly snoring. Janet had been unable to sleep decently, and now she was again awake. Even though she was wearing a pair of flannel pajamas, and they were sleeping under a thick winter quilt, Janet was cold. It was a comment that Tina had made hours before that kept repeating itself in her mind. `Cheryl and Erica connected?' Janet thought to herself, `how?' Realizing that she wasn't going to get any more sleep, Janet silently left her bed, trying not to disturb Tina. She removed her warm terry bathrobe from the closet, and her slippers. Janet walked quietly out of her bedroom, and closed the door silently. She walked downstairs, opening the lights as she went. Finally, in the library, she opened the safe, and removed the first few volumes of Erica's journal. Taking a Coke from the small refrigerator that she kept in the library, she began to read again from the first years of Erica's journal. It was just one line somewhere, and in almost the beginning of her story. When Erica had been Alana, daughter of wealth, not destined to be a slave. "So they are connected," said Janet softly to herself. Part Four: Legacies - Friday November 20, 1998 Janet watched from the front door as Tina took the Toyota out for the trip to Mistress Lori in Brookline. They had packed a small suitcase, and Janet had kissed Tina on her way out. But Janet knew that Tina would disobey her, that she would instead drive to Stephanie's and tell her the whole story on how Cheryl had forced herself upon Janet. All of the events of the last six months had come to this. Her training Cheryl and her deceptions involving Tina and Stephanie. Now she was all alone, having delivered herself to Cheryl as the price of her remaining a Domme. She went back to the library, and took a seat. Janet tried to work, hoping that it would change her mood. Instead, she felt like screaming. Buzz! "Janet!" "Yes, Blanca. You don't have to speak so loudly. What's up?" "I have to see you right away." "That's impossible for today, perhaps Sunday. I'm busy this weekend. What's that noise?" "I'm calling from a pay phone at Kennedy Airport, Janet this is very important. Have you been contacted by a woman named Cheryl Branford?" "No," Janet lied. "Don't lie to me, Janet, please! This woman is somehow linked to Erica." "What?" "Early this morning I got a call from a lawyer in San Francisco. Erica had instructed him that after her death he was supposed to send you a package. But the idiot forgot! He was keeping an eye on Cheryl, and in the event she would come East, to warn you. It wasn't until Cheryl had a car accident on Telegraph Hill on Wednesday and was revealed to be a fake that he remembered the package and called me." "But Cheryl's here in Greenwich!" "Exactly, Cheryl hired a woman look a like to substitute for her for quite some time." "Why are you at Kennedy?" "He sent his secretary with the package on a red eye flight from San Francisco that will be landing shortly. Then I'll drive up to your house." "No, you can't be seen here." "All right, where?" "How about the Rye Town Hilton? Meet me by the staircase by the Westchester Ballroom in two hours." "Fine. The plane's about to land, see you there." `What the hell is going on?' Janet asked herself. Janet waited outside the ballroom, pacing on the carpet. Blanca was probably stuck in traffic, thought Janet. "Can I help you?" asked a hotel staff worker. "I'm waiting for a friend," Janet answered. Just then at the end of the corridor, Janet watched as Blanca walked in. "Blanca!" called Janet. Blanca quickly strode over, puffing as she sought to catch her breath. Her face was flushed red from the outside cold. "Janet, glad you're here. Can we go somewhere private?" "There was a sales meeting here a little while ago, the door's open." Janet opened the door, which was really a conference room, not a ballroom in the usual sense since it could be separated into three small rooms. "Good," said Blanca as they walked inside and closed the door to the empty room. "Well?" "Here." >From her soft leather briefcase Blanca removed a large package, bound with tape. On the top were the words "To be Opened by Janet Davis Only." Below the words was Erica's distinctive signature. "Aren't you going to open it?" asked Blanca, as she poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. "Sit down, I have a confession to make first," said Janet. "Go ahead." "Erica and Andrea didn't die in the plane crash in Mexico. Andrea is alive and well, living in Taos New Mexico. The whole thing was a set-up." "What?" gasped Blanca. "Erica was dying of leukemia for the last years of her life, she was seriously ill and weak. She didn't want to be remembered as an object of pity, of sympathy, a Domme who couldn't hold a crop. So she and Andrea created the competition between Tiffany and myself to succeed her." "Why?" "To see which of her slaves was the better Mistress. I was, by virtue of the fact that I was a better stock market player, management of the house, and proper conduct. Unlike Tina, who had allied herself with Lauren, Erica' s enemy." "I understand now," said Blanca, "Erica wanted to see that she was to be remembered for her replacement. That's why you've acquired the aura of Erica's reputation." "Yes. I'm sorry that I've concealed the truth from you, Blanca. I was obeying my Mistress, even after her death." "Understood." Janet opened a small Swiss Army Knife that she carried in her purse, and cut the tape on the package. Inside were a series of envelopes, plus a wrapped rectangular object. "Letters for me, you, Cheryl, and Stephanie. Plus this," Janet held the object, which she shook in her hand, "videotape." Janet opened her letter, and handed Blanca hers. They stared at each other, then Janet opened hers and passed the knife to Blanca. "I didn't know!" cried Blanca, shock in her face after she had read her letter. "But I did." "This changes everything!" "No, this changes nothing. Cheryl forced herself on me in June. She wanted me to train her as a slave, hand her over to a another Domme, then make her final demand." "Which is?" "To use me in the Dungeon, alone." "You can't, Janet. She'll hurt you, thinking the way she does." "I don't think that she feels that way anymore," Janet answered. "Why?" "Because I've trained her, because she knows and understands what it means to both feel and hold the crop." "You're very confident about your own abilities, Janet. To place yourself at her mercy!" "All right then," Janet spied a pile of stationary on a table, and some envelopes. Janet wrote out something, then removed a key from her purse. She placed it in the envelope along with the letter that she had just written. "I sent Tina off to Lori in Brookline, but knowing her she's probably at Stephanie's now. Which is where you're going, with that envelope." "What's in here?" "Instructions for Stephanie and Tina, if I'm right about my companion. They're going to be the calavry." "What are you going to do?" questioned Blanca. "Submit myself to Cheryl Branford, just as she wants. I made a contract with her, and I intend to honor it." "If I had a pair of cuffs now, I'd lock you to the chair, since you're totally mad." "Perhaps I am, but I don't think that Cheryl means to hurt me now." "Good luck Janet," said Blanca as she kissed her friend on the cheek. "I'll need it," answered Janet. When Janet returned to the Mansion, she kept glancing at her watch. Even though it was hours until Cheryl would arrive, Janet wanted to be ready for her. Janet stripped her clothes off in the bedroom, then padded around naked as the tub filled. "What?" said Janet to herself when she saw movement behind her. It was then that she felt a cloth pressed to her face with the sickly sweet odor of chloroform before she passed out, the walls spinning. "Good afternoon, sleepyhead," said Cheryl. When Janet came to, she found that she was naked, collared, and bracelets were locked to her wrists and ankles. She was seated on the floor with her back to the bed, wrists locked behind her back, and a spreader bar locked to her ankles. "Cheryl, how?" "While you were out, I paid someone to let me in the house. Money can buy everything, you know." "What are you going to do with me?" asked Janet. "Worried aren't you?" smiled Cheryl when she answered. "Yes." "Anything that I want, Mistress. You're helpless, and at my mercy. I can use you any way I choose, to my heart's desire." "You said you wouldn't hurt me," protested Janet. "True." "Ah!" cried Janet. Cheryl had been hiding a riding crop behind her back, and she had cruelly struck Janet's breasts with an unexpected stroke. An evil grin spread across her face. Then Cheryl got to her knees next to Janet, and began to lick and suck at Janet's nipples, teasing them erect. At the same time, her right hand snaked between Janet's thighs and began to trace the outline of her sex, making Janet moan with anticipation. "No Janet, I'm not going to give you a climax, not yet anyway. You're quite a sexual person, aren't you?" "What do you want with me?" asked Janet. "I've got everything that I want right now. The famed Mistress Janet, helpless at my feet. I'll get dressed, do you mind if I wear some of your clothes?" "Go ahead, I can't stop you," answered Janet. "Oh how very droll, Mistress. I'll give you something to think about while I'm dressing." Janet watched as Cheryl opened her night table, and removed a vibrator. Cheryl the flipped the switch on and it made a buzzing noise. "Open wide," ordered Cheryl. Janet obliged, and Cheryl forced the vibrator into her sex all the way that she could. The buzzing vibrator instantly excited Janet, making her hot and wet. "Keep that in your cunt," threatened Cheryl, "or there will be worse to come." Janet watched as Cheryl stripped off her clothes, revealing that she wore no underwear. Naked, Cheryl walked around Janet's bedroom, and opened her dresser drawers. "Nice collection of undies, Janet. Bet you must be Victoria's Secret's best customer. Good thing that we're about the same size." Cheryl selected a matching bra and panty set of black lace, and put them on quickly. Then she removed one panty from the drawer, along with a single black stocking then closed it. Cheryl then advanced on Janet, who remained helpless on the floor. "How's that cunt of yours?" asked Cheryl. "Fine, thank you." "Vibrator still inside?" Cheryl then reached between Janet's legs and tweaked the buzzing vibrator. It was still held firmly in place. "You must have one trained sex, Mistress," commented Cheryl as she balled up the panty she was holding, "open wide." Cheryl then stuffed the panty into Janet's mouth, then wrapped the stocking around then tied a knot at the back of her head. "Mmmmmmph!" cried Janet. "You're mine, Mistress. All mine for one night. I'll do with you as I please, everything from a spanking to suspending you from the ceiling and striping that lovely body of yours. And you'll never know the reason why," taunted Cheryl as she walked into the closet to select some fetishwear. Cheryl sat in Janet's chair, wearing a black leather bodysuit and a pair of high heels. On the carpet knelt Janet, naked and helpless. Once Cheryl had dressed she had unlocked the spreader bar and removed the vibrator. Then she had pulled Janet to her feet, and had marched her down to the Dungeon, pushing Janet to her knees. Janet had not resisted or fought, or even tried to run. Instead, she had allowed herself to be taken down to the Dungeon. She knelt with the gag still in her mouth, in the pose of submission that she had taught Cheryl. "I would have thought that you would have tried something, Janet. But you are here at my mercy doesn't that scare you? The whip, the crop, and the cane are all available for my use. I could hurt you badly, Mistress." Instead of grunting through her gag, Janet remained silent. She bit down on the panty inside her mouth, glad for the dignity that the fabric gave her. Frustrated, Cheryl rose to her feet and untied the stocking, and pulled the panty from Janet's mouth, leaving Janet gasping for breath as Cheryl resumed her seat on the throne like chair. "Thank you, Mistress!" panted Janet, her chest heaving from the deep breaths that she now took. "You're welcome, slave." "Why do you want to hurt me?" asked Janet. "What did you say?" "I have trained you with the utmost care and respect that I was capable of, I tested you to your limits but never exceeded them, and treated you as a caring Domme and now you want to hurt me. Why?" "That's my affair, Mistress," curtly answered Cheryl. "You said that you had me investigated before you forced yourself upon me. What did your investigations show?" "Mistress........." Janet watched as the question that she had planted in Cheryl's mind brought her to mental confusion. A few moments earlier, she had been gloating over having Janet helpless at her feet. "What did you find out about me?" asked Janet. "That, that, you were a good Mistress," slowly answered Cheryl, her voice breaking. "Have I hurt you? Humiliated you in any way? Treated you badly?" "No, Mistress," answered Cheryl. "Made you kneel on the floor and eat out of a dog dish, for example?" "No, Mistress, you did not." "When you left here every Sunday, how did you feel?" "Pleased," Cheryl answered quietly, as if she was ashamed of the answer. "So you liked your treatment?" "Yes." "And you found out that I was an honorable Mistress, didn't you?" "Yes." "There was no need to drug me, Cheryl. I said that I would willingly submit to you, and I was going to bathe and prepare myself. Instead, you invaded my home and drugged me. Why?" "Because I didn't believe that you would submit, Janet." "I have done everything that you asked and more, Cheryl. Even letting a MaleDom use you." "Why did you have to do that?" suddenly cried Cheryl. "Because I thought that you might want to be used by a man, and Craig was visiting. He told me later that you were a good submissive, in the Dungeon and later in bed." "I'll never be able to separate my normal sexual feelings from submission because of you, Mistress!" cried Cheryl. "My purpose as a Domme is to determine your sexual needs, Cheryl. Even if you don't understand them yourself." "If you're thinking that I'll release you, I won't. I have you at my mercy, Mistress. I won't let you go." "I haven't asked to be released, have I?" "No, Mistress," answered Cheryl. "Then why do want to hurt me?" "Because you took someone close to me and turned her into a slave, Mistress," answered Cheryl, anger in her voice. "Was this person the worse for it? Are you the worse for your discovery that you are a submissive?" asked Janet. Cheryl suddenly was silent, not answering Janet's question. Her inner conflict now played itself out on her face. "I'm not a submissive!" cried Cheryl, "no!" "Then you are certainly a good actress, Cheryl. You have been trained and have performed very well in the last six months. I know when a person is acting Cheryl, and when they're not. You're a very good submissive Cheryl. You enjoy the cuffs on your wrists, spankings, and your use in bed." "NO!" "Face the truth Cheryl, you're a submissive and you enjoyed my training!" "I'm going to use you Mistress, here and now in your own Dungeon. I'm going to make you cry and moan, just as you did with me." "All right, Cheryl. Just use me as I trained you, with love and respect." "When were you last whipped Mistress?" asked Cheryl, "I'll bet that it was a long time ago?" "Six months ago," answered Janet, "just before you arrived. Once a year I submit to Mistress Stephanie so that I may never forget what the lash feels like." "How proper you are." "Thank you, Mistress." "I'm going to spank you now, slave. Perhaps a few strokes with the paddle on your bottom. Get ready, Mistress!" said Cheryl. Cheryl then pulled Janet again to her feet, then marched her over to the padded bench. She then sat down, and pulled Janet over her knee. Janet noted that Cheryl had already placed the paddle on the bench in advance. "You may count each stroke, slave. And thank me after every five." "Yes, Mistress!" Cheryl raised Janet's bound arms, and then struck a savage blow with her hand. "One!" "Two!" "Three!" "Four!" "Five! Thank you, Mistress!" Janet felt the skin on her bottom slowly warm as it was struck. She had not been spanked for a long time indeed. "Six!" "Seven!" "Eight!" "Nine!" "Ten! Thank you Mistress!" Crack! "Ah!" cried Janet, the force of the paddle staggering her with its effect. "Continue, slut!" "Eleven!" "Twelve!" "Fifteen! Thank you, Mistress!" Crack! "Sixteen!" "Eighteen!" "Twenty! Thank you, Mistress!" "Very good, Janet," commented Cheryl as she let Janet kneel on the floor. "Thank you, Mistress!" "Did you like the paddle?" "Yes, Mistress." Cheryl offered the paddle to Janet, and she kissed it without having been ordered to. Then Janet knelt in silence, awaiting Cheryl's next use of her. "I want to flog you," said Cheryl. "Yes, Mistress." "Nothing, no resistance? Or protest?" asked Cheryl. "No, Mistress, none. I would have submitted to you without the chloroform. " "Why?" "Because I trained you, Cheryl. Because you know right from wrong. Or at least I hope you do," answered Janet. "You're not going to beg me to stop?" asked Cheryl. "No, Mistress. Please flog me?" Cheryl then slapped Janet across her cheek, the sound clearly audible in the Dungeon. Janet fell to the floor, as she lost the balance that she had on her knees. "Why can't you be scared of me?" screamed Cheryl. "Because I was once nearly killed by a Domme who was evil," Janet answered. Cheryl then pulled Janet to her feet, then over to the ceiling chain. Releasing her wrists from behind her back, Cheryl then locked Janet's wrists to the chain. She then activated the motor control, and soon Janet was hanging by her wrists. "Prepare to be flogged, Janet!" "Yes, Mistress." "No need to count, Janet." "Thank you, Mistress." Cheryl had selected a flogger made of heavy leather strands that would mark on contact. She hefted it in her hands, feeling the weight. When Janet looked into her eyes, Cheryl looked back at her in anger. "I'm going to leave your skin on fire, Janet." "Thank you, Mistress." Cheryl then began to strike, the flogger leaving red marks wherever it landed. Janet's entire body shook with every stroke. "Ah!" "Ah!" "Ah!" "Ah!" cried Janet with every stroke. Janet dug her nails into her palms as she was flogged, her body one mass of pain as Cheryl would strike her in one place, then move on to another. Her underarms, breasts, thighs, and sex all were the target of the flogger, and Cheryl didn't stop. Each stroke left Janet gasping as she cried out after each one marked her. Tears fell from her eyes. "Open your legs, slave." Janet did as she was ordered, and the flogger found it's way onto her sex and the inside of her thighs. Cheryl relentlessly continued to use Janet without pause or mercy. "Slut!" cried Cheryl, "you're a slut, Mistress!" "Painslut, Cheryl," gasped Janet, "I'm stronger than you, Cheryl. Much stronger." "No!" Cheryl ceased using the flogger, only to take a crop from the cabinet to replace it. She flexed it in front of Janet, holding it in her hands. "Kiss the crop," ordered Cheryl. "Yes, Mistress." Janet kissed the crop, only to be rewarded with a series of slicing strokes across her breasts and thighs. She hung in her chains, moaning when the crop would strike her especially hard. "Twenty," stated Janet. "What was that?" "You used twenty strokes on me, Mistress," said Janet. "I wasn't counting, slut." "You should have, Cheryl. Because I taught you to be responsible." "What does that mean?" "To properly care from the submissive under your control, and to know the amount of use that they can take." Recessed into the ceiling were the lights, which could be bright or dim depending on their control. Janet looked up, and saw that one light had begun to flash on and off. The security system override had been activated. "You forgot to ask me for a safeword, Cheryl." "Go ahead, then, Mistress." "Alana Peters." "NO!" screamed Cheryl, "NO!" She grabbed a ball gag, then thrust it into Janet's mouth. Cheryl then picked up the single tail whip, and lashed at Janet with all of her might, breaking Janet's skin, the blood flowing down her back. Stroke after stroke hit Janet, tears falling from her eyes. The gag prevented her from pleading, just like before. Cheryl continued to beat Janet, oblivious to anything else. The thick Dungeon door burst open, and Tina and Stephanie raced inside. The look of horror on Tina's face was shocking. "Janet!" screamed Tina. Tina tackled Cheryl in a few strides, knocking her off balance. From her belt Tina removed a pair of handcuffs that she cruelly locked on Cheryl's wrists. Then she placed a ballgag in her mouth, and drew the roller buckle tight. Stephanie removed Janet's gag, then they both released her. Tina held onto Janet as they sat her on the bench, Janet's blood on their hands. "Are you all right?" asked Stephanie. "I hurt," said Janet, "nothing that some rest won't cure." "You've been badly used." "Yes," Janet weakly answered. Tina dragged Cheryl to her feet, then forced her to her knees in front of Janet. "What do you want me to do with her, Mistress?" asked Tina. "Take her to the library after my wounds have been treated," ordered Janet. "Why shouldn't I hang her from the ceiling and whip her until she bleeds, Mistress?" "Because she's Erica's sister, Tina," Janet calmly explained. After Stephanie had dressed the wounds, Janet had dressed in her nightgown and bathrobe. Janet then asked that they go to the library to conclude the events of the evening. Janet sat at her desk, with Stephanie in a chair beside her. Cheryl sat in a chair, her arms still bound behind her back, and the ballgag still in her mouth, with Tina next to her. "Janet, you really should go to bed, you've suffered a tremendous shock," said Stephanie. "I'm all right, Stephanie, thank you. I'll rest later. Thank you for being my friend." "I'll always be your friend, Janet," answered Stephanie. "You might not be after we're done tonight." "Why?" "Give me my purse," asked Janet, "now we begin. Tina, you may remove her gag." "I'm not saying anything!" protested Cheryl when her mouth was free. "You don't have to, your sister will do the talking. Stephanie, I have a confession to make. Erica and Andrea didn't die in the plane crash in Mexico back in June 1993. She really died three years later from a car accident, in a new life that she had created. Andrea is still alive, and lives in New Mexico." "Why?" cried Stephanie. "Because she was dying of leukemia that didn't respond to treatment at first. From 1992 on, just after I had begun to serve her, she was sick. I always wondered why she never took me to bed, even though I was eager to please her. She was sick and dying and did not want to be an object of pity and sympathy. Instead, she wanted to choose her replacement in a grand manner, in the competition between Tiffany and myself." "I never knew, I saw that she tired easily, but Erica never said a word to me!" "That's all right, Stephanie. Now we come to the question of Cheryl, here. Tina, unlock her handcuffs. She has some reading to do." "Yes, Mistress." "Six months ago," Janet began, "after I returned from my vacation to Stephanie's, at the Charity event last June, Cheryl forced herself upon me, threatening to expose me if I did not train her as a slave and fulfill her demands. I agreed to them in order to avoid public exposure and humiliation. Cheryl did not want me to investigate her to discover her true identity, which is that she is Erica's younger sister. Cheryl please read this letter that I received this morning that a lawyer was supposed to send me years ago, but didn't realize his mistake until your substitute had a car accident on Wednesday in San Francisco." Tina removed the cuffs, and passed the letter to Cheryl, who still looked bitter and resentful. She began to read silently, then tears formed at the corner of her eyes. "Read it aloud, Cheryl." "My dear Janet," Cheryl began, her voice breaking with emotion, "I am writing this at a lawyers office in San Francisco because I have unwittingly placed you in danger. When I submitted myself to you as a slave, I failed to tell you of my younger sister, Cheryl Branford, who lives in San Francisco. Mine was not a happy family, Janet. When I had you investigated I discovered that you had been raised in a proper house with a mother and father. How I envied you, for money is no guarantee of happiness." "Continue, Cheryl." "I was born into a wealthy household that was wracked by constant arguments and fights. Finally my father left for California, and my younger sister with him. My mother changed back to her maiden name, and changed my name as well. Cheryl chose her father's name." "I did not stay in contact with my sister, but she did say that she was guilty about not being closer with her mother. When Eve died of a sudden heart attack, she grew to hate me, saying that I had abandoned her to live my life as a slave, having changed my face and name after my car accident." "When I went to explain to her why I had given you the estate, Cheryl said that I was a sexual pervert. That you were an enchantress who had conned me out of the estate and my fortune, then Cheryl threw me out of her Mansion, never to see me again." "What Cheryl never wanted to hear was that I was dying of leukemia, and wanted to take revenge on you. First because she had taken no interest in Eve, our mother, and second for her wrongful perception of how you had come into my estate." "Cheryl has said that she may one day come East and take revenge against you. I do not know what form this will take, but in her Mansion I did see some D/s novels." "For you are my heir, Janet. From the beginning, I had a secret plan for you to succeed me. Please forgive me, Janet. I used you, denied you my bed, sent you to Stephanie, striped and beat you to ready you for the competition with Tiffany." "In the library you will find a safe containing all of my journals from 1980 when the car accident placed me on the path to my submission to 1992 when I set up my own death and the competition. I know you will read them for you always wanted to know more about me." "Read the end, Cheryl." "I want to say in closing that the reports that I have heard indicate that you have more than lived up to my expectations for you. You have done well, Janet. I shall always love you, deeply and with all of my heart. Please forgive me, Janet. I have written additional letters for Stephanie, Blanca, and a letter and tape for Cheryl. I love you, signed Erica Riken." Cheryl broke down in tears, the sounds of her crying filling the library. Janet passed a sealed envelope to Stephanie from her purse, and laid Cheryl 's on the desk with the videotape as well. "Erica died the following day in a car accident, she never called to tell me about Cheryl," described Janet, "I'll never know if she was responding to treatment, or dying. But once I assumed her position as Dominatrix, she never came back to reclaim her title or estate, which she gave to me as the victor of her competition." "I'm sorry, Mistress!" cried Cheryl, "I thought that you had taken the estate from Alana. I had it all wrong, I didn't listen to her!" "It's all right, Cheryl. Stephanie, I think that I'm ready for bed now." "I'll always be your friend Janet. Always." "Thank you, Stephanie." Chapter Sixteen - Epilogue - Six Months Later The leather conference was in Los Angeles, and Janet and Stephanie had decided to make a true vacation out of it. They had taken Tina and Camille with them, to make it a truly memorable experience. The conference was held over a weekend, and the four of them attended numerous panels and discussions, and had played with many other Dommes and their slaves. They had filled a couple of suitcases with purchases of toys to bring back home. Then they had gone to Disneyland, since Janet had never been to California before. They spent days there, with Janet determined to ride and see everything. In the hotel room, Stephanie had taken a picture of Janet in a Catsuit wearing Mouse ears. Before they left for home, there was one final duty to perform. They had driven to Santa Monica, to a quiet cemetery. Purchasing flowers before they entered, Janet remembered that Erica loved flowers. There were always fresh flowers in the house whenever Janet would serve her Mistress. The grave was a simple one, with the name "Alana Peters" 1957-1996 chiseled into the stone. Janet and Stephanie placed the flowers into the small cups near the grave. "She was my Domme, who I loved so much," said Janet, her voice choked with sobs. "Mine too," added Stephanie. >From the Diary of Cheryl Branford It is now six months since I have left Connecticut, and serving Mistress Janet. And my life has been changed forever. My penalty for using Janet without a chance to plead for mercy was to serve her for 24 hours a day, seven days a week, for a month. Which I readily agreed to. My punishment, in addition to being used by Janet (once she had recovered from my beating) and Tina, was to read my sister's entire journal from start to finish. Mistress Janet offered to give me Erica's diaries but I refused, as she is the one who Erica designated to have them. But she did ask if I wanted a copy of them, and I accepted. When I was set free to leave, Janet drove me to the airport and pressed an envelope into my hand. She said I would know when to open it. Two months after returning home, I passed a sex shop in San Francisco and went inside. I was immediately sexually excited by the scent of leather and latex. When I went home, I opened the envelope. Within was a list of Masters and Mistresses, all friends of Janet in California. But the one I wanted was the first, Master Craig. I called him, and have been serving him for months now. Every weekend I drive to Los Angeles where he lives, and he uses me. I wear his ring, collar, and ankle bracelet. And carry his love inside my heart. I went in search of my sister's sexuality to hurt her heir and replacement and in the process I discovered my own submissive feelings. I enjoy the lash and crop, the ballgag and paddle. Just as Janet told me, she understood my own sexuality better than I do. The feeling of freedom and release when I submit to Craig, and when he takes me sexually I am fulfilled. One day, I shall return to Greenwich and again place myself in submission to Mistress Janet. Only after I have served Craig and he allows my use by another, for I am now his slave. There is no way that I can repay the agony that I placed Janet through in the six months that she trained me, fearing the viper in her midst. Strangely, she bore me no ill will. Instead, she made certain that I understood the nature of Dominance and submission. As I sit here alone, writing my journal I feel a strange kinship with my sister that I never had before. Alana must have put herself though hell making the decision to shed her life and become Erica. I now partially understand what she must have felt emotionally. I have asked Craig if I may wear Janet's ring on my hand also, and he has agreed. For Erica lives on in Janet, of that I am sure. In the last twelve months I have experienced the lash and the crop, bondage, and the love of other women. My body has been used in ways that I never conceived even when I devised confronting Mistress Janet. In serving Craig I am happier than I have ever been before, a lover who will place me on my knees or over his. I go to work with a sore bottom, and stripes under my designer suits. When I am naked and collared, and serving Craig, I am free for the first time in my life. For that I must thank Mistress Janet, who I shall forever love as my first Domme. Just as Janet, I believe, loved Mistress Erica. Mistress Janet confronted me with the truth about my submissiveness, which I did not want to accept at first. But now that I understand my sister, I have also come to understand myself as well. The End