Date: Sun, 12 Sep 2010 21:34:18 EDT
From: sfmaster@worldnet.att.net
Subject: THE CHALLENGE chapters 4-6

Chapter 4: Rejection -  Part One: That Feeling of Power - February 1983

Erica Riken sat at her desk, a cup of black coffee in  front of her, papers
neatly organized, and the IBM PC humming away.  Trouble was, she just couldn
't  concentrate on her work.  In her new  job of bookkeeper she was
managing the finances of the liquor distributor, which  handled hundreds of cases
of hard liquor every day.  Oddly, all she ever drank was perhaps  wine with
dinner or a whiskey sour once in a great while.
Under her business suit, she massaged the latest welts  that she had
acquired the previous weekend.  She had been used severely by Daniel,  who had
beaten her with a riding crop until she had bled.  Crying when she returned
home, she had  managed to clean her back off, and bandage her wounds by
herself.  She had decided to wear a business suit  all week to work, just in case
the stripes should begin to bleed.
It had been weeks now that she had to share Daniel with  Lauren, who had a
strange effect on him.  Originally, Daniel had used her alone.  But then,
one night, Daniel had handed  the riding crop to Lauren.  Her  companion in
slavery then took the crop and used it savagely on  Erica.
Erica chewed on a pencil, aware that it was late Friday  afternoon.
Before, she would only  see Daniel on Saturday.  Now she had  been asked to begin
her period of slavery on Friday night.  It was therefore quite a rush to do
food  shopping, laundry, and other domestic errands before the weekend
should  arrive.
She watched as the other employees completed their tasks,  and talked about
the dates that they would be having.  Erica wondered just the others would
think if they knew what was going to happen to her.
In just a few hours, she would be wearing nothing but an  apron, cooking
Dinner for Daniel, Lauren, and herself.  Afterwards, she would clean up.
Finally, she would be used in the  playroom.  Sighing, at least she  realized
that he had taken no further interest in using her bottom again beyond  a
spanking.  She just couldn't bear  the thought of going through that again!
Erica realized that her project was done, so she saved  her work, then shut
the PC down.  She locked her papers in her briefcase and desk, checked to
see what the  others were working on, then bade them goodbye for the weekend.
She would now have to rush to get things done!
Beginning in childhood, she had been urged to help in the  kitchen.  While
they had servants  and a cook, she had been told that one day she would have
to keep a house.  That cooking was a skill that everyone  should learn,
along with the other myriad skills in running a household.  So she had learned
to cook, and her  mother had even sent her for cooking lessons at some
school in Manhattan.
At the time, she would have rather loafed with her rich  girlfriends.  Now
that skill was  coming handy in her new life!
Erica had shopped, and she would prepare roast duck.  The problem with duck
was that it  contained a lot of fat, and had to be pierced continually
during cooking.  Nor could it be overcooked else it would  be dry and tough!
So Erica had rushed to Daniel's house (he would pick up  Lauren) to start
Dinner.  She had  cleaned and prepared the birds, and stuck them in the oven.
 So she stood there, watching them cook,  piercing them with a fork,
draining off the fat.
Erica was glad when she heard the door open, and she  rushed over to the
foyer.  Daniel  & Lauren had entered the house, and Lauren was closing the
door behind  her.
"Sir?" greeted Erica.
"Good evening, Erica.  Is that dinner cooking?"
"Yes, Sir." Erica answered.
"Then you and Lauren had better attend to it.  I'll be changing."
"Yes, Sir," they both answered in unison.
Lauren set the table for three.  Erica had chosen a blush wine, since  Duck
was dark meat, unlike chicken or turkey.  Erica was removing the two birds
from  the oven when they were ready then Lauren intervened.
"Shouldn't you cook those a bit longer?" asked  Lauren.
"No," pointed out Erica, "now that the fat has drained  out, the meat's
done.  Any longer,  and it'll be tough and dry.  I took  a few cooking
classes."
"Okay," Lauren answered.
Of course, Erica didn't say that they had been in one of  the most famous
cooking schools in Manhattan!
Dinner that night went off rather well.  Lauren had set the table properly,
 according to Erica's instructions.  They had dined on Duck, parsley
potatoes, asparagus, the red wine, and a  cake that Erica had bought.  The  Dinner
went off rather well, without any problems, since Erica had directed
Lauren in what to do.
Daniel had clearly appreciated the meal, which was  clearly of restaurant
quality.  Impressed, he had complimented Erica a few times afterwards.  But
it was only after they had cleaned  up together, that all the dishes were
drying in the rack, that Erica realized  just how jealous that Lauren was.
"Do you think that by cooking dinner that will get you  off?" asked
Lauren.
"What are you talking about?"  Erica replied.
"Daniel asked you to do something.  You refused."
"That's none of your affair," said Erica,  nervously.
"Yes it is, girly.  And Daniel is mine, slut!" snapped Lauren.
"I was his before you came along."
"Erica, Lauren!" called Daniel from the living  room.
Both of them quickly walked to attend Master Daniel, and  knelt before him.
He surveyed his two slaves quietly.
"Erica, thank you for dinner this evening.  I had no idea that you were
such a good  cook."
"Yes, sir."
"Did you go to school for that?"
"I took a few classes over the years."
"Had I known about your ability, I would have let you  make dinner a long
time ago."
"Thank you."
"Tonight, I have something special planned.  Lois, a Dominatrix friend of
mine is  going to be bringing over her slave Jasmine.  I had wanted to use
her myself, but  since Erica made the fine dinner I think that the two of you
should be given the  right to use her."
Erica and Lauren stared at each other in silence, not  replying to Daniel's
statement.
"Erica, have you ever used the whip or crop on another  slave?" Daniel
asked.
"No, Sir."
"Good.  It's  an essential part of any slave's training to learn how to
use the crop as well  as receive it.  So this will be your  first time.
Lauren, how about  you?"
"Not for a long time, Sir."
"Excellent.  Master Richard and I will remain up here, and the two of you
can  entertain Jasmine down in the playroom."
"Thank you," they both said in unison, "Sir."
About an hour later, Erica and Lauren were called out of  the playroom to
attend the arrival of their guests.  In order to pass the time, Daniel had
ordered them to clean the playroom and the instruments of their torment.
Daniel had not wanted to bother to  supervise their every move, and had left it
up to the two of them to divide the  tasks between them.
Lauren had chosen to sweep the floor, and clean the X  cross and wooden
cage that Daniel used to confine them during a session.  Erica had taken the
more careful task of  cleaning and oiling the leather instruments of
discipline.  Naked, they both worked in silence, even  though Daniel had not ordered
them to be silent.
For weeks now, Erica had watched in silence, not saying  anything as she
watched Lauren slowly manipulate her into Daniel's  favorite.  No demand of
his was too  humiliating, and Erica knew that she was there almost every day.
One Friday night, she had entered the  house, only to see Daniel taking
Lauren up her bottom in the living  room.
True, Daniel had respected her wishes and had not asked  to use her there
again.  But she  wondered just when the idea might again occur to Daniel.  Or
even if Lauren might suggest it, as a  way of demeaning Erica still
further.
Erica surveyed the instruments of her torment, laid out  on the table in
front of her.  With  a shock, she realized that they all had been used on her
at one time or  another.  The whips, the crops, and  the paddles that had
made her into a slave.  The gags, and the dildos all had been  used to
introduce her to being Daniel's possession.  Which she was, at least until Lauren
had  arrived.
`How do I react in a love triangle when I'm a slave?'  Erica asked herself
in silence.
Since Lauren's arrival, Erica had slowly and inevitably  felt herself being
pushed out of the way.  She had been confined in the wooden cage when
Daniel had used Lauren,  then taken her up to the bedroom.  Or she had been
chained at the foot of the bed and ignored all night as  Daniel used Lauren
sexually.
Just as she had finished oiling a leather paddle that was  the last
instrument, Daniel had called to them to finish up.  Lauren had scurried to put
away her  cleaning tools, and Erica had carefully replaced everything back in
its proper  place in the cabinet.  Daniel would  be down later to make an
inspection to pronounce the playroom suitable before  use that evening, and no
doubt to show to his friend.
Erica took one final glance inside the cabinet to make  certain that
everything was correct and closed the doors.  The pushed the table back there it
had  been and gathered the cloths and jars of polish that she had used on the
wood  and leather instruments.
"I'll be right along," said Lauren.
"Okay," said Erica.
Upstairs, Erica stowed the oils beneath the kitchen sink,  and Lauren
joined her a few moments later.  They toweled off the dirt and oil that had
accomeulated on their naked  bodies as they had worked.  Erica  wished that they
had given an apron to work in, instead of being kept nude all  the time.
"Girls!" called Daniel from the living room.
They both scurried out to the living room, and quickly  stood at attention,
though with their eyes downcast as they had been  instructed.  Erica
nearest the door,  since she was his primary slave, with Lauren next to her.
Daniel had opened the front door to  admit 2 women guests, and had embraced the
first to enter, which would have been  the Dominatrix Lois.  Following
behind was another woman, which would have been Jasmine, her slave.
Lois was an attractive woman in her early 30s, wearing an  attractive red
dress.  She was tall,  well built, and pretty.  She was  wearing a knockoff
of a designer dress, carried a Coach handbag, and was wearing  a set of
modest heels on her feet.
Jasmine must have been in her late twenties, and was  quite pretty as well.
 She was  wearing a blouse and skirt, and Erica guessed that she wasn't
wearing anything  underneath.  Her breasts were free  under the fabric of the
print blouse, and her hips didn't betray a panty  line.  Nor was she wearing
hose  either.  She was perched on what  Erica guessed was a set of five in
high heels, which must have been  uncomfortable to walk in.  To  complete her
outfit was a leather collar that was locked around her  neck.
"Daniel, how nice to see you again," said Lois as she  held onto Daniel
and kissed him passionately on the lips.
"You're looking well, darling," said Daniel in return as  he held her
tightly and kissed her roughly.
"Mmmmm, plenty of time for that later dear.  You already know Jasmine,
here.  So are these two yours?"
"Yes," said Daniel as he closed the door behind Jasmine,  "this is Erica,
who has been my slave for some time now, and this is Lauren, who  is new."
When they heard their names mentioned, they each curtsied  to Mistress
Lois.
"I see that you've trained them quite well," complimented  Lois.
"Yes, they know what would happen if I become  displeased."
"Excellent, there's nothing better than a well trained  slave."
"I'm only sorry that I didn't plan to have you over for  Dinner.  Erica
made the most  wonderful meal, I had no idea that she was such a good cook.
So I thought that if it was alright with  you that we might let Erica and
Lauren use Jasmine for this evening."
"Fine, but what does that leave for us to do?" asked  Lois.
"I think that we can find something that we can do  together," answered
Daniel.
"Yes," beamed Lois, "I agree."
"Erica, why don't you prepare Jasmine in the  bedroom?  I've laid out a
few things  on the bed to get her ready.  Meantime, I can show Lois the house
and Lauren."
"Yes, Sir.  This way," indicated Erica.
Erica conducted her charge into one of the bedrooms.  Jasmine showed no
surprise at being  greeted at the door by two naked girls, and followed Erica
in silence.  Laid out on the bed were a set of wrist  and ankle cuffs, red
ballgag, and a leash.
Jasmine said nothing, but merely unzipped her skirt and  passed it to
Erica, who folded it and placed it on the bed.  Then she opened the buttons on
her  blouse, and handed the garment to Erica, who placed it on a hanger and
hung it  inside the closet.
Just as Erica had assumed, Jasmine wore nothing  underneath her clothes.
She had  been naked, without bra or panties.  Her white skin was well marked
with evidence both of the riding crop and  whip, with welts both fresh and
fading from past use.
"Aren't you going to get me ready?" Jasmine  asked.
"Yes," Erica answered, "I'm sorry, I was just looking at  your marks."
"That's OK," Jasmine answered, "I see that you've been  well used
yourself."
"When were you last used?" Erica asked.
"Yesterday.  I was late returning from work, so Mistress punished me.
You?"
"Last week."
"Do you live with Master Daniel?"
"No."
"Living with my Mistress makes me available for her  constant use,"
Jasmine stated.
"I had better get you ready," said Erica.
"Yes."
Jasmine stood impassively as Erica locked the cuffs  around her wrists and
ankles, then locking her wrists behind her back.  Erica then picked up the
ballgag, and  stood behind Jasmine as she placed it inside her mouth.
Jasmine opened her mouth wide to  accommodate the red rubber ball, then Erica
tightened the roller buckle at the  back of her neck.  Lastly, she  attached a
leash to the collar of the bound slave.
"Mmmmph!" grunted Jasmine from behind her gag.
With her wrists bound behind her back, Jasmine's breasts  jutted outwards
from her chest.  Erica noted that they had been used recently also, having
been  marked.  Jasmine was evidently a  slave that was used to being used
quite frequently.
Pulling on the loop at the end of the leash, Erica led  Jasmine out of the
bedroom back into the living room.  Lauren had been pressed into service to
offer drinks to Daniel and Lois, who were both seated on the couch
together.
"Ah, excellent," Daniel observed when Erica pulled  Jasmine into the room.
"Thank you, Sir," said Erica.
Daniel rose, and inspected Jasmine.  He placed his fingers under her chin,
and looked at her face.  Then her  fondled her erect breasts, and pinched
her nipples.  Tracing the outlines of her female  curves with both of his
hands, he massaged her naked behind.  Then, finally, he pushed two of the
fingers of his right hand into her wet slit, making her moan in  response.
"She's well trained," Daniel commented.
"Yes, I like to keep her on the edge of climax at all  times, and used
constantly.  This  way she only associates a sexual climax with the crop, mixing
together pain and  pleasure."
"Is she wet all the time?"
"Mostly."
"I see then that you've trained her quite  well."
"Thank you.  You haven't done badly with Lauren," Lois replied, seated on
the  couch.
Erica then noticed that there was a riding crop on the  table and that
Lauren had several fresh stripes on her bottom.  Evidently when Erica had been
preparing  Jasmine, Lois had been allowed to use Lauren for her own pleasure.
"You have each been granted the use of Jasmine for thirty  minutes only.
You may mark or use  her in any way you wish.  After  that, you shall draw a
card.  The  winner will get to spend the night with Jasmine, the loser will
have to service  the two of us in the bedroom.  Do  you understand?" Daniel
asked.
"Yes, Sir," answered both Erica and Lauren.
"Sir, may I ask a question?" asked Lauren.
"Go ahead."
"Mistress Lois, how severely may I use your  slave?"
Lois sat back in the couch, and twirled around the drink  in her glass.
She stared at the ice cubes, then took a sip.
"You may use her until she calls her safeword,  Mercy."
Erica's interest was suddenly piqued.  Safeword?  She had never heard the
term before, and  she was determined to ask about it, but only when the time
was right.
"Mmmmmph!"  Jasmine cried from behind her gag, shaking her head from side
to  side.
"Behave Jasmine, or else you know what will happen when  you return home!"
Lois cautioned in a harsh tone of voice.
"Thank you, Mistress," Lauren replied.
"Lois and I are going to change, then we'll be down to  the playroom.
Don't begin until we arrive," Daniel ordered.
"Yes, Sir."
Lauren joined Erica, and they pulled Jasmine along by her  leash.  Wearing
the high heels and  without the use of her hands made going down the steps
to the playroom  difficult.  Erica held onto her  change, helping Jasmine
maintain her balance as she walked down the  steps.
Once inside, they locked Jasmine's leash to a bolt on the  wall.  Erica
turned around, only to  see Lauren already holding a riding crop.
"We were told to wait," Erica told her  companion.
"So I'm waiting," Lauren answered.
"Who shall use her first?"
"You, since you've never used the crop on anyone  before.  Then it will be
my turn,"  Lauren answered.
"Okay," Erica agreed.
A few minutes later, Daniel & Lois joined them.  Daniel had changed into a
pair of  leather pants & vest, and Lois was now wearing a leather bra and
skirt.  Erica was reminded of Mistress Martine,  and missed her terribly.
Because they both had been granted the use of another  slave, neither Erica
or Lauren was naked.
Clothes had been left for them in the playroom, and they  had dressed
together.  Erica wore a  leather top, skirt, and heels.  Lauren wore a leather
bodysuit, and boots.  They still wore Daniel's collar around  their necks, but
they were each going to be using a slave for discipline.
"Erica, since you've never used a woman before, I think  that you should
have the honor of using Jasmine first," ordered  Daniel.
"Thank you, Sir," Erica said in response.
Erica was handed the set of keys by Lois, and a riding  crop.  She held the
leather and  bamboo object in her hands gingerly.  Some two years now, she
had felt the sting of the crop on her own naked  body.  Her flesh had been
decorated  by the marks that the crop had left behind, and she had screamed
in both pain  and pleasure from it's application.  Prior to her slavery, the
only time before that when she had handled a  crop had been when she had
learned horseback riding in Europe.  But  that was long ago, and in another
life.
Walking on the heels over to Jasmine, the shoes clicked  on the surface.
Soon Erica stood in  front of the bound slave that she had locked to the
ringbolt.  Jasmine was truly beautiful!  A magnificent mane of black hair, wide
shoulders and high breasts, a narrow waist, and a delicious looking pussy
all  made her something to look at.
Erica reached out with her right hand, and touched and  fondled Jasmine's
right breast.  Excited from being bound and naked in the playroom, the nipple
was hard  and erect.  Tracing a path downwards  on her flat stomach, Erica'
s hand reached the slave's sopping wet sex.  It had taken her descent into
slavery to  discover that she was attracted to both men and women, that she
wanted ever so  much to suck at Jasmine's cunt.
"Mmmmmph!" grunted Jasmine, her mouth filled by the gag  as Erica massaged
and inserted her fingers inside of the slave's wet  slit.
Conscious of the fact that she only had a limited amount  of time to use
Jasmine, Erica removed her fingers from the slave's cunt, and  unlocked her
collar chain from the ringbolt.  Holding Jasmine by the elbow, she walked  her
over to the whipping post.  Erica unlocked Jasmine's cuffs from behind her
back and then locked them  to hooks above Jasmine's head.  Then  she
unlocked the ball gag and removed it from the slave's mouth.
"Thank you, Mistress," said Jasmine.
"You're welcome, slave," answered Erica.
Erica then presented the crop to Jasmine's lips, and she  did not even have
to be ordered to kiss the instrument of her torment.  Jasmine quickly began
to kiss the crop,  her wet lips touching the leather.
"Prepare to be used, slave," stated Erica.
"Yes, Mistress."
Erica stepped back, and delivered her first stroke of the  crop on a
person.  Done without any  force or power behind it, it made no sound as it struck
Jasmine's flesh.  Erica swallowed conscious of the fact  that three people
were watching her.  So she began to strike Jasmine ever harder, with each
stroke now leaving  a mark behind.
Bound to the post, all that Jasmine could do was to rub  her naked sweating
body up against the wood.  Erica struck at Jasmine's back, behind,  thighs,
and her underarms and breasts.  It took little time for Jasmine to begin to
sweat from punishment that  she was taking.
After a few minutes, Erica stopped.  Jasmine's body was now covered by a
series of red welts, which covered the parts that Erica had been able to
reach.  Erica then looked at her  Master, who beckoned her to continue.
"Kiss the crop," Erica ordered.
For the first time since the accident that had nearly  claimed her life,
Erica had felt a strange surge of power surging though  her.  Before, she had
enjoyed being  under the lash, being used by her Master.  But now, suddenly,
she was thrust into a new plane of existence.  Erica gasped when she
realized that  after two years of being a slave, she had entered the Domme space.
"Are you all right, Erica?" Daniel asked.
"Yes, Sir!"
Erica then unlocked Jasmine's hands from the post.  There wasn't much time
left, so she  pulled Jasmine over to the Bondage cross.  She secured Jasmine
's wrist cuffs to the sides, then her ankle cuffs down  below.  The front
of Jasmine's body  was now available to Erica for her to use.
She displayed again the crop to Jasmine, then began to  strike her breasts
and between her legs with a series of stokes that made  Jasmine moan and
shake within her bonds.  Erica knew that what Jasmine was now experiencing was
a series of sexual  orgasms and pain at the same time that was driving her
to ecstasy.  The slave moaned and bucked under the  crop.
"Ooooh!" cried Jasmine.
Finally, sensing that her time was just about up, Erica  stopped and found
a dildo in the toy cabinet.  She held it firmly in her hand, and  pushed it
deep into Jasmine's wet slit.  Jasmine moaned, then came in rush of moans
and screams.
"Time's up, Erica," said Lois, "that was very  good."
"Thank you, Mistress," answered Erica, as she bowed to  her audience.
"Erica, go clean Jasmine up before her use by Lauren,"  ordered Daniel.
"Yes, Sir!" Erica answered.
Erica placed the crop back in the cabinet, then released  Jasmine from her
confinement.  Jasmine was used to being a slave, and was able to accompany
Erica  upstairs to the bathroom.  Erica  filled the bathroom sink with water,
and washed off Jasmine with a wash  cloth.
She ran the cloth over her shoulders, breasts, but  hesitated when she
reached Jasmine's mons.
"It's all right," laughed Jasmine, "my cunt won't  bite."
"I've never washed another woman before," said  Erica.
"Are you attracted to men or women?" Jasmine  asked.
"I'm not sure," Erica answered.
Jasmine grabbed the cloth from Erica and proceeded to  clean her sex and
the inside of her thighs.  Erica watched in silence.
"After I get used by Lauren, I get the distinct feeling  that Daniel and
Lois are going to take her to bed.  So that leaves us," hinted  Jasmine.
"I've never been to bed with a woman before," said  Erica.
"Well, there's always a first time."
Erica then returned to the playroom with Jasmine.  After her brief wash,
she had combed her  hair and tied it behind her head.  Jasmine seemed totally
free with her naked body, holding it like a proud  object on display.  For a
brief  moment in the bathroom, Erica had brushed against Jasmine, and their
breasts had  touched.  Jasmine smiled, and Erica  had seen that look of
lust before.
"Are we ready to proceed?" asked Lois.
"Yes, Mistress," answered both Erica and  Jasmine.
"Then you belong to me," said Lauren.
Suddenly, Erica feared for Jasmine.  She had seen that look, that sadistic
leer in Lauren's face before.  Whenever Daniel had allowed Lauren to use
Erica, a different Lauren  emerged.  Not the submissive slave  or even the
caring Domme that she had seen in the City clubs.  But someone else, someone
vicious and  perhaps dangerous.
Lauren took Jasmine from Erica, and led her over to a  chain hanging from
the ceiling.  She  locked Jasmine's cuffs to the chain, and ordered Erica to
get her a spreader  bar.  Jasmine's ankles were locked  to the back, opening
her legs about two feet.  Jasmine was now totally available for  whatever
that Lauren had in store for her.
"Erica, please bring me the whip?"
"Yes, Lauren."
Doing as she was told, Erica then found the whip, neatly  coiled from when
she had cleaned and oiled it before.  The leather reflected back the
playroom's lights, showing that Erica had done a good job in cleaning it.  Erica
then passed the fearsome device to  Lauren.
"Prepare to be whipped, slave," threatened  Lauren.
"Yes, Mistress."
Lauren began without even offering the whip's handle to  Jasmine, but
instead merely began to administer a series of light strokes.  Every time that
the whip would strike  Jasmine's body the girl would shudder in her chains and
moan both from pain and  pleasure.  Steadily Lauren increased  the power
behind each stroke, and the whip molded itself to the female curves  that it
was being applied to.
Each stroke of the whip ended with a crack against  Jasmine's naked flesh.
Tears fell  from her eyes and moans of pain escaped her lips, but she did
not call the  safeword that Erica had wondered about so much before.
Instead, Erica knew that Jasmine was  riding the pain, divorcing her body from her
mind so that she could endure the  ordeal of being whipped.
Sweat fell from her armpits, and ran down her  flanks.   It seemed as if
the  only thing that measured the passage of time was the regular crack of the
whip  against Jasmine's skin.  Lauren  would deliver a series of ten
strokes, pause, and then begin again.  After all, she had been having plenty of
practice.  On Erica's  flesh.
"Times up," said Lois.
Lauren then drew her arm back to strike Jasmine once  again, only to have
Lois rush over and grab onto her hand, stopping  her.
"I said, time's up.  You forget yourself, slave!"
"I'm sorry, Mistress, I beg your forgiveness," replied  Lauren, bowing to
Lois.
Lois then slapped Lauren strongly across her cheeks, and  her hands left a
red mark on her face.  She continued holding Lauren, and then pressed
against her.  She forced her mouth against Lauren's  then planted a savage kiss on
her lips, and forced her tongue inside Lauren's  mouth, making her moan.
"Daniel, I think that for this slave's insolent behavior  this evening we
should take her to bed with us for a little session, don't you  agree?"
asked Lois when she had released Lauren.
"Yes, I think that would be a very good idea.  I think that it would do
Lauren good to  be sucking on your pussy when I'm going up her cunt, or maybe
her  bottom."
"Don't forget the riding crop.  I'm sure that a few strokes will do her
good as well," Lois observed.
"Of course, you're my guest."
"That leaves Erica & Jasmine, doesn't it?" asked  Lois.
"Let them spend the night together," Daniel  offered.
"Excellent idea!"
>From the next room, Erica and Jasmine could hear the  sounds of Lauren
being used.  After  the session in the playroom, Erica had watched as Jasmine
took a quick shower,  followed by Erica and finally Lauren.  Then they had all
adjourned to the bedrooms, and being used.
On the dresser was a riding crop, cat, and dildo.  Both Erica and Jasmine
wore collars, but  their bracelets from their wrists and ankles had been
removed, and neither had  been secured to the wall.  Erica  felt strange being
naked in a bedroom with Jasmine.
She had not felt this way with Mistress Martine in the  city, but that was
because Martine had not taken her to bed.  When she had been young in her
early  twenties, she had worked at Gucci, interning there for a summer job.
She had been taken to bed by an older  woman in her thirties, and had enjoyed
the experience.  In the years since, she had gone to bed  with both men and
women, leading her into sexual confusion.  What sex was she attracted to?
"Scared?" asked Jasmine, a smile on her lips.
"No......no," stammered Erica.
"I can guarantee that it won't hurt at all, unlike a  session," said
Jasmine as she embraced Erica.
Jasmine began by tenderly kissing Erica on her cheeks and  lips, while her
hands roamed over Erica's body.  Her washed body smelled of Jean Nate,
which she had sprayed on herself in the bathroom.  Erica responded to her
slowly, by  holding the other woman to her.
When Jasmine began to suck and playfully bite her erect  nipples was when
Erica finally became aroused by her partner's attentions.  They were rolling
around on the bed, not  even bothering to get under the covers.
Then Jasmine's hand cupped Erica's mons and slit, and  inserted two of her
fingers inside Erica's sex.  Erica didn't flinch or stop, but instead
opened her legs to accommodate the other woman's attentions to her  sex.
"That's good, Erica," breathed Jasmine.
Erica didn't reply, but instead held Jasmine closer to  herself, their
breasts pressed tightly against one another.  She loved the scent of another
woman,  and the feel of her companion against her.
Jasmine disengaged her arms from Erica, then made Erica  lay back on the
bed.  She planted a  trail of kisses on her stomach as she made her way down
to Erica's wet  sex.
"I'm now going to make you scream with pleasure," Jasmine  said softly.
Erica felt her pussy sucked and tongued by Jasmine, and  when the woman's
tongue entered her lips and played with the bud of her clit she  moaned with
excitement.  Erica  opened her legs still further, and played with Jasmine's
long hair as the woman  sucked and lightly bit Erica's sex.  Sweat broke
out on Erica's body as she pulsed with new found erotic  feelings, then she
finally came with a rush that left her panting and  breathless.  Erica moaned
with the  greatest pleasure that she had ever known in her life.
"Thank you," said Erica as they snuggled up against one  another
afterwards.
"You're welcome."
"Jasmine, can I ask you something?"
"Well, we're naked and in bed, you've used me with a  riding crop and your
fellow slave has whipped me, so I guess that there are no  secrets between
us," laughed Jasmine, "what do you want to know?"
"What's a safeword?"
"You mean that you're a slave and you don't know what a  safeword is?"
asked Jasmine.
"No."
"You must be joking!"
"No, really," Erica answered.
"A safeword is something that you as a slave agree to  with your Master or
Mistress beforehand.  When you've reached the limit of your pain or
endurance, you call mercy  or something else, and that stops the action.  Period."
"I have never heard that before," said Erica.
"How long have you been a slave?"
Erica related how she had met Daniel and been attracted  to him, how he had
run her life and prevented her from reading anything about  Dominance and
submission.
"Hmmm," Jasmine answered, "I've never heard of anything  like that, but
being a slave doesn't mean having to turn your mind  off."
"What can I do?" Erica asked.
"Well, there's plenty of books available.  Why don't you look around in
Manhattan and you'll find  a whole group of shops that sell clothing and
whips, and they all have books on  the subject too.  That was how I  started, by
reading, going to clubs, then I met Mistress Lois."
"Oh," answered Erica.
When Erica was between Jasmine's thighs and exploring her  sex and tasting
another woman for the first time, Erica resolved that her period  of
ignorance was over.  She was  going to learn more about D/s no matter the cost,
which she was prepared to  pay.  She had been under Daniel's  spell long
enough, kept in ignorance, and only having to say "Yes,  sir."
Just as she had crossed one divide by having her  appearance changed and
becoming Erica Riken, she would now recreate herself  again.
"Good evening," said Lauren.
Erica awakened to find herself on a bed, lying face  down.  The last thing
that she  remembered had been Lauren using her with a cane, then she had
passed out from  the beating.
"How do you feel?"
"Hurt," Erica answered.
"You took the cane very well, before you passed out,"  complimented
Lauren.
"Why?" asked Erica.
"Because Daniel said that you were disobedient, which was  why I punished
you."
"Why are you so vicious, Lauren?"
"What do you mean, vicious?"
"Why are you so anxious to hurt someone?" cried  Erica.
"Because all my life I've been taking it from  others.  I was raped and
abused by a  family member when I was young.  An  athlete in school beat me
when I wouldn't put out for him.  Now I have the chance for a little  power,
and I'm going to use it," explained Lauren.
By then, Erica had ceased to care about, Lauren, Daniel,  or much of
anything else.
Erica's chance for knowledge had arrived just three weeks  and six beatings
later.  One  Wednesday morning the phone rang just as she had been dressing
to go to  work.  Her boss had called to tell  her not to come in, since a
power transformer had exploded near work.  Power had been knocked out to the
entire  block, and the police had cordoned the area off.  So there was going
to be no work  today!
Erica quickly stripped off her work clothes, and looked  at herself in the
mirror.  Daniel,  in a violent episode, had punched her in the eye.  Erica
had covered up the bruise with  makeup, and it was finally beginning to heal.
 However, she had been subject to a  series of very severe beatings that
had left her sore and stiff.
One night, Daniel had used her, then handed the whip to  Lauren.  Lauren
didn't stop until  Erica had hung limply in her chains, and her back had bled.
 Erica had wanted to scream mercy, but  had managed to keep silent.
In the last three weeks, Erica had planned her city trip  carefully.  She
had bought the paper  again, and found that fetish shops did indeed exist.
So she had called all of them, had noted  their locations in the city, and
had resolved to visit as soon as  possible.
Now she had her chance, and Erica decided to take  it!  She dressed in an
old blouse  and jeans, sneakers, and would drive into the city.  She had
resolved to buy every book that  she could lay her hands on, to finally learn.
Regardless of what her Master had told her!
The drive in to Manhattan was done after rush hour.  Erica parked her car
at a lot closest to  the fetish shops that she could manage.  Walking down
the streets, she realized just how long it had been since  she had last set
foot in the city.  How she missed it's excitement, and pulse!
Entering the first shop, she was immediately turned on by  the aroma of
leather, rubber & PVC.  She had seen the outfits that Martine had worn, and
wondered where the  Dominatrix had bought them.  Now she  knew.  But it was the
bookrack that  had been her reason for coming here, not clothing.
Feeling like the first time that she had set foot into  the famed library
at Harvard, she walked with purpose to the large display of  paperbacks and
hardcover books.  Swallowing, she selected one at random, leafed through it,
and started  reading.  Here was something that  was not coming from her
Master.
One by one, she looked over a copy of each book, then  placed in on the
counter.  Soon, she  had a pile of books on proper D/s practice; D/s devices;
books written by Doms  & Subs about the D/s experience; and fiction.
"Starting a library?" asked the store clerk.
"Kind of," Erica answered.
After selecting the pile of books, Erica took some time  to satisfy her
curiosity to try on some of the fetish garments.  She enjoyed the feel and
smell of their  materials, and how sexy that they made her look.  The woman
helping her noticed the marks  on her body, but said nothing, instead helping
Erica select garments that fit  her perfectly.
Erica left the shop with a big bag of books, plus some  clothing after all.
She realized that she couldn't get this sort of stuff in  Connecticut!
Stowing the goods in the car trunk, she  walked to the next shop.  She wasn't
surprised to find that there were only a few publishers of D/s books, nor of
 fetish clothing.
How often had she gone from Macy's to Stern's and then  finally Gimbel's
and seen the same dresses?  So it was no shock that her choices were
limited.
She ate a late lunch at a restaurant, and read a book  about D/s while
eating.  While her  choice of reading material raised the eyebrows of the
waitress, Erica didn't  care.  The drive back was  uneventful, and Erica half
wished that she could have taken the train.  But then she would have been
limited to  the amount that she could carry, not keep in the car.
Bringing the bags back to her apartment was a chore, but  one that she did
gladly.  Finally,  she opened each bag and emptied the contents on the bed.
Having brought a few cans of Coke with  her already, Erica took a notebook
and pen, and opened a book that looked  good.  She began to read, and
learn.
Erica Riken would no longer be a slave to ignorance any  longer, no longer
blindly accept whatever Master Daniel had told her.  Her belated education
had begun.
"Deep throat me," Daniel ordered one evening.
Still dazed from the punishment session with the whip  that she had
endured, Erica wasn't sure if she had heard Daniel's order  correctly.  She had
been made to  hang from the ceiling chain for what had seemed like an eternity
before first  Daniel and then Lauren had consented to use the whip on her.
Her shoulders ached, and her arms felt  like they were going to rip
themselves from their sockets for hanging so  long.
Her feet were inches from the floor, but they may have  been miles away for
all the good that it did her.  Every muscle in her body was strained  from
having been kept in suspension for so long, and she felt like she had been
placed on a rack.
But it was the lash that had hurt her.  Used by both Daniel and Lauren, it
had  been applied without mercy.  In  recent weeks, it had been made plain
to Erica that while both she and Lauren  were slaves, Lauren had taken her
place.  So Lauren was allowed the freedom to use Erica, which she took at
every  opportunity.
After this session, Erica had slumped to the floor after  being released,
not even having the strength to stand.  She felt like crying, since this was
not  the way that she had been treated before Lauren had arrived.
Daniel had then walked over to her, and unzipped the  leather outfit that
he had been wearing and exposed his hard erect cock.  His shaft was long and
hard, and Erica  had not minded taking him in her mouth before.  But not
after she had been beaten into  submission first.
"Deep throat me."
"Please Sir, I don't feel well!" Erica  protested.
"You'll feel a lot worse if you don't do as I  say!"
Reluctantly, Erica got to her knees and with her right  hand, guided his
organ into her mouth.  She licked and sucked, and Daniel remained hard.  But
without warning, he plunged his  shaft deep into her throat, making her gag.
"Take my cock, slave!"
It took all of Erica's concentration to avoid pulling her  mouth away from
his shaft, and he came quickly.  Erica tasted the salty pre-come before  his
shaft came alive and began to pulse with orgasm.  His hot come shot into
her throat, and  Erica swallowed the salty fluid, hoping that it would be over
soon.
Once he had finished, Erica slumped again to the  floor.  The floor cooled
her heated  flesh, and Erica wished that this nightmare of abuse and
punishment would  end.  But she had no idea how she  might leave Daniel.
Later that night, both Daniel and Lauren had taken her to  bed.  She had
been made to suck  Lauren's pussy as Daniel had used both of her bottom holes.
 First, she had liked the feel of his  cock in her sex, and she had been
driven to orgasm.  But Lauren, in her desire to show that  she was a better
slave, had always let Daniel use her anus without  complaint.
The next day, Daniel had informed her that they were all  going to attend a
D/s play party next week, and that he was going to have Erica  perform her
submission in public.  The following weekend, Erica knew, was going to be
very difficult on her.

Part Two: Rejection -  March 1983
The party was held the following weekend at a house in  Westport, just up
from Greenwich.  Daniel had worn a black outfit and was  carrying the toybag,
in which he had brought a short whip, a crop, and a few  other things.
Erica had worn a black dress, with nothing underneath,  leaving her feeling
strange not be wearing at least a bra and panties.  Lauren had worn a
blouse and skirt, also  without any underwear either.  Daniel had been acting
even more strange than normal, and had asked Erica  over to his house during
the week.  The sole purpose of her coming over on Wednesday had been to
lubricate  her bottom and make her wear a large butt plug for several hours.
It was one thing, Erica thought, to be used in a  consensual manner in
public, as she had been in NYC before she had met  Daniel.  But now, in spite of
the  face that she had politely asked him how she was going to be used, he
had  refused to tell her.  In fact, he  had belted her in the jaw, leaving
her in pain and shock.
The house was a large one, and several cars were already  in the driveway.
Daniel parked the  car, and he escorted his two slaves to the door and rang
the bell.  A woman wearing a halter-top, skirt, and  leather collar around
her neck admitted them inside.
Their hosts were Keith and Beth Simon, a married  couple.  He was her
Master, and she  the slave.  He was a doctor at a  local hospital, she was a
teacher at a local school.  They were quite an attractive looking  couple
together.
Several others had arrived before them, a mixed group of  Masters,
Mistresses, slaves both male and female, some in various states of  undress.  The
Dom(mes) were the only  ones talking, unless given permission to by their
owners.
Shortly after their arrival, Daniel had placed collars on  them both.  That
way, anyone would  know that they were both slaves.  He  had gotten them
both drinks, and they circulated amongst the other guests.  One female slave
had undressed, and was  displaying her marks.  Her nipples  were ringed, and
her Master had said that he wanted to have her sex pierced as  well.
After everyone had arrived, everyone went downstairs to  the playroom.
There, Erica noted a  X frame, a bondage cross, chains hanging from the ceiling
for suspension  purposes, a wooden cage (which Keith had said that he had
built by himself)  stocks, and plenty of other things.
The first person to be used was a female slave named  Daphne by her Master,
Jason.  He  undressed her, then locked her wrists to one of the ceiling
chains.  He had a long coiled whip in his bag,  and used that on her.
Daphne had been well trained, for she took fifteen  strokes with only moans
escaping her lips.  Once the series was over, she kissed the whip and Jason'
s hands, then  bowed at his feet.  Everyone  applauded the performance.
Next was a Dominatrix named Regina, who had brought  her slave William.  He
was tied to  the X frame, and cropped for twenty strokes, which he counted
off  perfectly.  Again, everyone  applauded.
As each Dom(me) used their slave, Daniel had gone to the  bar and taken
another drink.  Erica  knew that Lauren had been giving alcohol to Daniel as a
gift (since she had  refused to steal it from her firm) and that he was
perhaps becoming dependent  upon it.
Finally, their turn came.  Erica stripped, and was braceleted as  usual.
She was made to lie down on  a wooden platform, and her arms and legs were
stretched apart.  Daniel used a riding crop, and used her  bottom and the back
of her thighs, and finally between her legs.
Much to her surprise, she was released after her  use.  Puzzled, Erica
wondered why  her anus wasn't going to be used.  She rose from the platform,
only to be pushed down again by  Lauren.
"Now then," Daniel said, "you've all seen just how  submissive my slave
Erica is.  Just  to prove how good a slave she is, I'm now going to take her
up the ass with my  cock."
"No," said Erica.
"What did you say?" Daniel asked.
"No, Sir, please don't use my ass in public, please!"  Erica begged.
Daniel unzipped his black jeans, and everyone watched in  silence, waiting
to see what happened next.
"No, please, mercy," cried Erica.
"What was that, slave?" Daniel demanded.
"Mercy, Master, mercy!" Erica cried.
Erica felt his hard cock at the entrance to her bottom  and jumped away.
When she turned to  face Daniel, she was punched in the stomach, and then in
the jaw.
"Disloyal slave!" Daniel roared.
"Now that's enough," said Keith, as he placed his body  between Erica, who
was cowering on the floor, and Daniel.
"Go away!  She's mine."
"She's called Mercy, and has indicated that she doesn't  want to be used
up the ass," said Keith.
"She's mine, and mind your own business, damn you,"  screamed Daniel.
Just as Erica was rising from the floor, Daniel  maneuvered around Keith
and struck a blow with his fists that left Erica  staggering.
"Stop!" screamed Keith, "or I'll put you in the  hospital!"
"If you want this worthless slave so much, then you can  have her," said
Daniel.
It was then that Erica passed out, and slumped to the  floor, unconscious.
She had taken a  severe blow to the head, and it finally had knocked her
out.
Erica awoke to the feeling of a cold compress on her  forehead.  Keith was
standing over  her, and his wife Beth was holding her hand.
"Are you all right?" asked Keith.
"Where am I?"
"In one of our bedrooms."
"Where's Daniel?"
"After he gave you to me, which was witnessed in public  with everyone
there, he took Lauren and left right away.  How do you feel?"
"My head's ringing."
"Not unusual after the blow that you took.  Have you ever had a concussion
before?"
"Yes."
Erica thought to herself that Alana Peters had a great  fall and all the
king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Alana back  together again.
"Well, get some sleep, and we'll talk in the  morning.  One of us will be
with you  all night."
Keith pulled a sheet and a winter quilt over her naked  form, and Erica
quickly drifted off into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Erica awoke to the wonderful aroma of tea.  Beth had placed a tray with a
teapot,  and cup and saucer on the bed next to her.
"Good Morning," greeted Beth, "how do you  feel?"
"Okay, I guess."
"Sit up then and drink something."
Erica sat up, and Beth arranged the pillows behind her  back.  She was
naked, and bruised  from the session the night before, but that didn't matter.
Erica and Beth were both slaves, after  all.
"Thanks," said Erica.
Erica drank a few sips of tea after Beth had filled the  cup for her.  It
warmed her, and  felt so good going down.
"Can I have something to eat, I'm starved?" asked  Erica.
"Not yet," answered Keith as he entered the room and sat  on the bed, "no
solid food since you might have a concussion.  I want you to have x-rays
first."
"You're a doctor?" asked Erica.
"Yes.  It's  Sunday morning, and the hospital will be quiet now.  I've
arranged a private x-ray for you  all on my account.  So drink up, and  let's
get going," ordered Keith.
"All I have is my evening dress," answered  Erica.
"I'm sure that Beth can find something for you to wear,  can't you,
darling?" asked Keith.
Thirty minutes later, Keith. Beth and Erica were on their  way to the
hospital.  Beth had found  a top, and jeans and sneakers for Erica to wear.
Erica and Beth sat in silence in the  back, and when they pulled onto the
hospital grounds, Erica felt like she was  having a panic attack.
The Hospital.  Not the same one that she had been in before, but they all
looked the  same.  All smelled the same.  They drove to the doctor's private
lot,  and went in a side entrance.  Outside of security, maintenance and a
few visitors, the place was  empty.
It took all of Erica's will not to break down and cry in  remembered pain
from her accident and recovery.  She lay on the x-ray table as she was
scanned from head to toe.  The  technician developed the film, and handed the
pictures to Keith in an  envelope.  They then walked to his  office, and Keith
placed the pictures on a light box, and said nothing as Erica  and Beth
waited in silence.
"Beth, could you leave us for a few minutes, please?"  asked Keith.
"Yes, Sir."
Once she had left, and they were alone, Erica waited for  Keith to begin.
"Daniel has been using you in more than just a D/s  manner, hasn't he?  You
've covered  up a black eye in makeup, you have evidence of being kicked
and punched, and a  few hairline fractures.  Is that the  way he's been using
you?"
"Yes, sir," Erica answered softly.
"I've never liked him, he's an embarrassment to us all in  the scene.  One
day, he's likely to  kill someone.  At least that won't  be you, since
everyone heard him give you to me.  Do you want a new Master, Erica?  Do you
want to continue?"
"Yes, Master."
"I'm not your Master yet.  First, I want to interview you, see why  you're
a submissive, your sexual orientation, and so on.  Being a slave means more
than being on  the floor and saying Master."
Erica sat in silence, and swallowed.
"Your x-rays showed something more than just his  abuse.  You've had some
pretty  severe injuries lately.  A car  accident?"
"I fell off a ladder," lied Erica.
Keith sat back in his chair, the leather squeaking as he  shifted his
weight.  Erica could see  that he was considering his next words.
"I've been a doctor here for a long time, Erica.  There are the rich, the
old and new  money, and everyone else.  Families  going back to colonial
times.  There's a strange story running around the country clubs lately,
Erica.  About the daughter of a  prominent family who survived a car accident,
who quit her Wall Street job and  was seen going in a sex club in Manhattan,
then vanishing."
"What does that have to do with me?  I'm a bookkeeper at a liquor
distributor  in Darien,"  protested Erica.
"You must have fallen off some ladder then, to sustain  those kind of
injuries."
"Yes, and it hurt like hell."
"Do you know anything about a woman named Alana Peters?"  bluntly asked
Keith.
"No," Erica lied.
"Good, then let's go out for brunch.  You must be hungry."
"I'm starved."
"I'm going to train you Erica.  In posture, in submission.  In using the
lash also.  It's time you had a proper  Master."
"Thank you, Sir," answered Erica.

Chapter 5: The Test of  Wills - Part One: Submission - Friday July 10, 1998
Janet sat behind the library desk, chewing on a  pencil.  She had watched
from the  windows as Cheryl's limousine had pulled up to the landing; and
Tina had then  conducted her into the house.  Outside, the rain was pouring
down in sheets and flashes of lightning and  sounds of thunder could be heard.
In short a typical summer thunderstorm for this time of year.
Her only concession to her Domme status was that she was  wearing a leather
skirt and silk blouse, with stockings and modest heels.  Which was
perfectly ordinary dress for a  date.
Given the summer heat, she had told Tina just to wear a  normal outfit, not
made of any fetish fabric.  True, the house was air-conditioned; but  Tina
still had looked disappointed by Janet's orders.
Janet had noticed that Cheryl had worn a rubber  mackintosh raincoat.  Once
Tina had  taken Cheryl into one of the bedrooms to be stripped and readied
for use, Janet  had looked over the coat in the hall closet.  It was an
expensive ladies English coat  that Janet had seen when she had vacationed in
London the previous year.
The only reason that Cheryl could have chosen to wear  such a coat would
have been to antagonize Janet in some fashion.  Janet had specifically ordered
her  newest slave NOT to purchase or wear any fetish or scene attire at
home without  her permission.  She recalled  Erica's surprise when her Mistress
had discovered just what Janet had been doing  at home by herself; and the
punishment that she had received for it.
Resuming her library chair, Janet opened the manila file  that she had on
Cheryl.  Inside was  all of the information that Cheryl herself had provided,
plus everything that  had been added since.
"Why, Cheryl, why?" Janet asked herself,  softly.
During the past four weeks, Janet had introduced Cheryl  to the world of
submission.  Cheryl  had been stripped of her clothes, made to wear a collar
and bracelets, and  used.  She had borne the crop and  the lash, had her
breasts and sex used by Janet and Tina, and was in the process  of being
trained.
The strange part of this entire situation was that Cheryl  was actually
responding well to her training.  She bore her marks well; Tina had  informed
Janet that she was now ready for her bed; and Janet was now ready to  probe
her bottom and other actions.
But none of that answered the question of who she was and  why!  Janet
reflected that if she  had been Lauren, Cheryl would have been whipped until she
bled to force Cheryl  to confess her reasons.  Instead,  here was Janet,
wearing her Domme outfits and heels, at the mercy of her  submissive.
Cheryl had not once threatened since her initial  interview to expose
Janet.  Janet  thought that she would bring it up at every chance.  Instead,
Cheryl had gone tight-lipped  into her training, obeying every order given to
her.
Until now, with the raincoat.  Should Janet even bring it up to  her?  Make
it an issue, and thrash  her for it?  Or just ignore it  totally, and get
on with her usual schedule with Cheryl?
No, Janet decided that Cheryl had done this  deliberately.  Just as Cheryl
had  come out of the blue to impose herself on Janet, now she was defying a
specific  order.  In less then just a month,  she had broken one of Janet's
rules.
But what would be the correct course of action?  Beating her harshly in the
Dungeon?  Denying her sexual release?  Locking her in the cell all
weekend?
Janet reopened Cheryl's file looking for something that  simply wasn't to
be found.  There  was something in Cheryl's life that had propelled her to
seek out Janet in  particular.
And Mistress Janet Davis could not afford the luxury not  to know why.

"Enter," Janet ordered.
Tina led Cheryl into the library, as usual.  Cheryl was naked, and
collared, with her  wrists locked behind her back in a set of leather bracelets.
Her ankles were locked in a similar set,  and her feet were locked into a pair
of high-heeled shoes.  She was quite helpless in her current  state.
"Thank you, Tina," said Janet, "on your knees,  Cheryl!"
Tina pushed Cheryl to her knees on the carpeted floor,  and stood in
silence awaiting Janet's next command.
"Good evening, Mistress Janet," greeted  Cheryl.
"Good evening, slave," said Janet in return, "you have  been my slave for
just one month, and you have already displeased  me."
"Mistress?"
"That rubber mackintosh you just wore, shall I get it out  of the closet?
I gave you specific  instructions that you were not allowed to wear anything
made of leather, rubber,  or PVC except shoes.  And you have  deliberately
disobeyed one of my instructions to you."
"Mistress, I wore it because it was raining!" protested  Cheryl.
"You break my heart, Cheryl.  That's a special English mackintosh
raincoat made by a firm in London that's not even  imported into the United
States.  You didn't buy that at Macy's, Cheryl."
While she was talking, Janet opened the top drawer of the  desk and removed
the small crop that she always kept there.  She held it between her hands,
and  flexed the rod to display her power.
"Mistress?" asked Cheryl.
"This is not a game, Cheryl, you have come here of your  own volition.  You
have displeased  your Mistress by a deliberate act of disobedience, even
though until now you  have performed quite well.  For  that, you are going to
be punished."
"Mistress, no!  I didn't mean any harm or disrespect!"
Janet rose from her seat, and walked over to Cheryl.  She placed the tip of
the crop under  Cheryl's chin and forced Cheryl to look directly at her.
"What did you think that you were doing then?  This isn't a trivial matter
that you are  involved in but deadly serious business," lectured Janet to
her  captive.
"What are you going to do to me?" asked Cheryl with fear  on her face.
"Tina," softly asked Janet.
"Yes, Mistress."
"I want you to hang Cheryl by her wrists from the Dungeon  ceiling so that
her toes can just touch the floor.  Then we'll leave her alone for a while
so she can contemplate her disobedience to me."
"Yes, Mistress," answered Tina as she pulled Cheryl to  her feet, "come,
slave."
"No, please!" begged Cheryl.
"You still haven't learned yet, have you?" asked  Janet.
"Mistress?"
Janet responded to Cheryl by slapping her across the  cheeks with a
stinging blow that brought tears to her eyes.  Then Janet swiftly delivered one
stroke  with the riding crop across her breasts, leaving a single red stripe
behind.
"It's time that you learned the true meaning of  submission Cheryl, and by
your own actions, this weekend you will find out just  how strong that you
can really be.  Take her away, Tina."
"Yes, Mistress."
Tina pulled the sobbing Cheryl out of the library, and  Janet returned to
her place begin the desk.  She would let Cheryl hang for about an  hour,
until her arms would feel like they were going to come out of their  sockets.
Then the real discipline  would begin.

After an hour, Janet walked into the Dungeon.  She had changed into a
leather bra, a  simple skirt, and a pair of modest heels.  Hanging from the
ceiling chain, as ordered, was Cheryl.  She was clearly uncomfortable from her
ordeal.
While Janet had ordered that she should be left alone, in  reality Tina had
always been close nearby keeping an eye on Cheryl.  Janet reflected that
when she had been  here hanging in the same position Andrea had been with her.
A Domme, a good Domme, should never leave a slave alone  and in bondage.
Janet looked at the  cell, from which she had released Tina from Tiffany's
careless  action.
"Good evening, slave," said Janet.
"Mistress, please!" begged Cheryl.
Cheryl's ribs showed clearly beneath her skin as she  strained for her toes
to reach the floor.  Sweat ran down her flanks and between her breasts.
"Are you more tractable now?" asked Janet.
"Mistress, I'm sorry about the coat."
"Then where did you buy it?" demanded Janet.
"At that rubber shop in London, just like you said.  I didn't buy it here,
I had to go all  the way to London."
"Very good, Cheryl.  Tina, the whip, please?"
"Yes, Mistress."
Tina removed the whip from the cabinet and handed it to  Janet, who ran the
oiled leather through her fingers.  The whip would leave marks that Cheryl
would remember for quite some time.
"Kiss the handle," Janet coldly ordered.
Cheryl did so, meekly and in silence.
"I want you to count out each stroke.  Failure to do so will result in five
 additional strokes.  I will indicate  when I have finished with you.
Understand?"
"Will I only be whipped, Mistress?" asked  Cheryl.
"No, slave.  That will be only the beginning."
Janet lashed out the whip with a modest stroke, one that  had the effect of
curling the whip around Cheryl's body.  It left a thin red stripe  behind.
"One!"
"Two!"
"Three!"
"Four!"
"Five!"
Janet noted that thin beads of sweat had formed on  Cheryl's skin, which
reflected the Dungeon's lights.
"Six!"
"Seven!"
"Eight!"
"Nine!"
"Ten!" screamed Cheryl.
Janet coiled the whip in her hands, giving Cheryl as rest  from her use.
Tears dropped from her cheeks onto her  breasts.
"Thank you, Mistress," said Cheryl, weakly.
"Your punishment is not yet over, Cheryl.  It has just begun," calmly
replied  Janet.
"Eleven."
"Twelve."
"Fifteen!"
Janet resolved to pause every five strokes to give Cheryl  some time to
recover.  In the last  few weeks, Cheryl had been used for progressively longer
sessions.  Now Janet was going to prove to Cheryl  just how much of a
submissive that she could be by using her beyond what she  thought her limits
might be.
"Sixteen."
"Eighteen."
"Twenty."
"Twenty-five!" screamed Cheryl, sobbing.
"Twenty eight."
"Twenty nine."
"Thirty!"
Cheryl had just undergone thirty strokes of the leather  whip, her body was
covered in thin red welts.  Janet paused to let Cheryl recover her  senses.
 Just a little  more.
"Thirty one!" screamed Cheryl when Janet started  again.
"Thirty three!"
"Thirty five!" sobbed Cheryl.
"Enough!" said Janet as she coiled the whip, "Tina,  release her."
"Yes, Mistress."
Janet held onto Cheryl as Tina activated the motor that  lowered the
ceiling chain.  Cheryl  was limp in Janet's arms, almost a dead weight.  Janet
released her wrists from the  chain, and pulled her over to a leather-covered
bench, and sat her down,  followed by Janet herself.
"Tina, get a glass of water," ordered Janet, "and some  tissues."
"Yes, Mistress."
Cheryl burst out into a flood of tears, and Janet held  her closely.  Their
breasts touched,  and Janet let Cheryl hold her tightly.  Cheryl sobbed,
and Tina brought her a box of tissues, which Janet used to  dry the tears from
her cheeks.
"You were very brave, Cheryl," complimented Janet, "and  very strong."
"I didn't thank you for my punishment!" gasped Cheryl,  "please don't
hurt me again, Mistress!"
"It's all right, Cheryl," soothed Janet, holding her  slave close to her.
Janet let Cheryl cry it out, she would wait until the  woman regained her
senses.  For  Cheryl was on fire, her mind and body ablaze with sensations
that she had not  felt before.
Cheryl had undergone a severe session with a fearful  instrument, the whip.
 Her flesh had  been marked, she had taken thirty-five strokes and had not
called her  safeword.
"Mistress, I'm so sorry, I'll never disobey you again,"  sobbed Cheryl.
"You did very well, Cheryl.  You have proved your submission to  me.  Thank
you.  Are you all right?"
"I think so."
"Good enough to go upstairs?" asked Janet.
"I think so, can I have a drink?" begged  Cheryl.
"Of course.  Tina, please."
Tina held the glass as Cheryl slowly drank the entire  glass of water down.
 The shock that  she had undergone was now slowly fading.  Cheryl was
recovering from her punishment.
Janet lifted Cheryl to her feet, and held the slave to  closely to her.
She gently walked  Cheryl to the elevator, and took her to one of the first
floor  bedrooms.
"Mistress?" asked Cheryl, "didn't you want to take me to  bed?"
"Are you able to make love to me after your  ordeal?"
"Yes, Mistress.  Please?"
"Then we'll stay here, not in my bedroom this  evening.  Let me strip and
rub some  salve onto your skin.  Then we'll  see about making love."
"Yes, Mistress."
Janet walked into the bathroom, and filled a glass of  water.  In the
medicine cabinet,  indeed in every one in the house, was a full medical kit that
both Janet and  Tina had been trained to use by Stephanie in the event of a
medical  problem.  Janet removed a tube of  salve, and brought back both to
the bedroom.
Cheryl was seated on the bed, and Janet passed her the  glass.  The woman
held it for a few  moments, her mind off somewhere else.  Cheryl drank,
without shaking, her grip firm and tight.
"Feel better?" asked Janet.
"Yes, Mistress."
"Am I really hurt?"
"No, just shock mostly.  You're already over most of it, and  you've
learned to take the whip.  After this, you'll be able to take even longer
sessions under the lash,  to divorce your mind from your body."
"I still hurt," said Cheryl.
"I can fix that."
Janet removed her shoes and peds, then her leather bra  and skirt, and
finally stripping off her panties.  The aroma of the leather clung to her  like
a perfume.
"On your tummy," Janet ordered.
Janet opened the tube of topical anaesthetic, and spread  some on the welts
on Cheryl's back,  moaning in response as it was applied and absorbed into
her skin.  She soothed the pain, relaxing Cheryl  gradually.
"Feel better?"
"Yes, Mistress, thank you."
"On your back," said Janet softly.
Janet repeated the treatment that she had given to  Cheryl's back.  She
gently applied  the ointment, soothing Cheryl's welts.  Janet spread some on
her fingertips, then applied it to the inside of  Cheryl's opened thighs.  She
had  carefully delivered a series of strokes that had terminated between
Cheryl's  legs that had driven the slave to a frenzy of excitement.
"Are you all right?" asked Janet.
"Yes, Mistress.  Make love to me?" asked Cheryl.
Janet remembered the times that Erica had whipped her,  then soothed before
Erica had taken her to bed.  Now here she was, Domme herself; doing  the
same thing with her slaves.
"Tina said that you're ready to service your Mistress,  Cheryl.  Time to
prove  it.""
"Yes, Mistress."
Janet lay down on one side of the bed, with her head on  the pillow and her
legs opened.  She  had expected that Cheryl would begin by sucking on her
clit.
Instead, Cheryl began by holding Janet tightly to herself  and kissing her
on the mouth, their tongues playing together.  Cheryl's hands explored Janet'
s waist,  thighs, and sex.  Cheryl again  kissed Janet on the mouth, then
on the cheeks and neck.  She sucked and playfully bit one of  Janet's
nipples, then the other.  She left a trail of kisses as she gradually made her way
down to Janet's  sex.
Finally, Janet felt her outer lips being bit and sucked,  then Cheryl's
tongue on her erect clit.  She moaned and bucked as Cheryl serviced her,
bringing her to sexual  climax.
There was no doubt that handing Cheryl over to Tina for  this part of her
training had been a good idea.  First because Tina had proven that she  was
much better then Janet at teaching lovemaking; and secondly because denying
Cheryl the privilege of Janet's bed only made her desire it even more.  Just
as Erica had done with  her!
Janet's thighs exploded with one orgasm after another,  and Cheryl kept her
teeth and tongue busy making sure that her Mistress knew  that she had been
trained in the arts of love.
"Ooooh!" Janet cried as one orgasm after another raced  though her body.
After what seemed an eternity, Janet was finally  spent.  There was no
doubt that Tina  had done her job well.
"Thank you, Cheryl," gasped Janet.
"You're welcome, Mistress."
"Tonight I do something different with you," said  Janet.
Janet removed a belt from the night table, and strapped  it around her
waist.  She removed  another belt, which already had a phallus attached.  Janet
locked the second belt though her  legs, so that the phallus pointed
outwards.
"Ready, Cheryl?"
"Yes, Mistress, please!" said Cheryl as she arranged  herself on the bed.
Janet climbed onto Cheryl, and guided the erect phallus  into Cheryl's wet
slit.  She didn't  even have to check to know Cheryl's condition, as there
was no doubt that she  was ready and waiting for Janet's next move.  Janet
pushed the shaft deep between  Cheryl's legs, making her moan in response.
"Oooooh!"
She next began a steady thrusting motion, and Cheryl  returned each thrust
of Janet's with one herself.  Cheryl had become a willing, sensual  lover,
not just lying there unmoving as she had done the first time.
The erect shaft drove Cheryl wild with passion, and  Janet's sweat mingled
with Cheryl's own as Cheryl soon bucked and moaned with  orgasm.  Janet felt
Cheryl's  fingernails dig into her back, pressing her tighter to her
Mistress.
"Aaaaah!" Cheryl cried when Janet and the phallus finally  drove her to
climax.
Finally, they lay together, side by side.  Cheryl was resting, recovering
from the  climaxes that had driven her wild with desire.  Janet undid the
belt from around her  waist, and placed the belts back in the night table and
the phallus in the  bathroom sink.
"Mistress?" sleepily asked Cheryl.
"Go to sleep Cheryl, I'll use you again  tomorrow."
"Yes, Mistress."
Janet pulled a single sheet over the two of them, then  fell quickly asleep
herself.  She  had not even bothered to chain Cheryl's collar to the
ringbolt above the  bed.
During the night, Janet partially awoke and remembered  one of her actions
three summers ago.........
After a year of being a Dominatrix in her own right,  Janet had decided to
redo the Dungeons downstairs.  She had wanted most to get rid of  solitary,
that silly vinyl lined prison that had reminded her of an  MRI.
So she had moved things around a bit and had solitary  confinement torn out
and had placed a small office and fridge back there.  She had a desk,
chair, another computer  (linked to the main one upstairs); making the whole
place quite nice to  work.
In celebration, she had held a party, inviting many of  her Domme friends
and subs.  They  had a BBQ on the sundeck, and when they sun went down,
demonstrations in the  Dungeons.
Late that evening, after all the guests had left and  Camille and Tina were
cleaning up, Janet and Stephanie were alone in the  Dungeon.
"Stephanie," Janet began, "are you mad at me for redoing  Erica's
Dungeons?"
"No Janet," answered Stephanie, as she sat on a chair,  "I'm not,
actually proud of you."
"Proud?" asked Janet.
"Yes.  Had  you left the Dungeons exactly like Erica left them, as some
kind of Memorial to  her, I'd have been very disappointed.  You're a different
sort of Mistress than Erica was.  More caring, more sensual.  Less addicted
to props than Erica was,"  Stephanie explained.
"Do you remember that day shopping?" asked  Janet.
"How can I forget?"
Since she was dispensing with solitary, Janet decided  that she wanted to
buy a cage of some kind.  Since the fetish shops all wanted a  premium over
what the pet supply shops cost, the two of them had gone to a large  pet
store.
There they found the biggest steel cage for a pet (which  was the exact
same one from the S&M shop) and Janet looked it over.  Finally, she crawled
inside and locked  the door behind her, explaining that if she was going to
place her pet within,  she wanted to check it out for herself.
The staff had tried to ignore her, and Stephanie tried  not to look
embarrassed and laugh until Janet had her fill of the cage.  Finally, Stephanie let
her out, and  Janet got to her feet.
"Do you want it delivered?" asked the clerk.
"I'll call to order it," Janet answered.
When they were driving home, Janet said that she was  going to dispense
with solitary, and she didn't want a cage either, explaining  that it didn't
fit in with what her idea of what a Mistress should  be.
"Okay, doggie."
"I'm going to paddle your behind for that,  Stephanie."
"Woof!"
Later that night, Janet had fulfilled her promise to  Stephanie, who would
remember her remarks each time that she sat down for a  while to come.

Part Two: Changing the  Plan - Saturday July 11, 1998
The next day, Janet decided would be a special one for  Cheryl.  Tina had
taken her just  after awakening for a beauty treatment.  Tina had gone to
school for that too, and was an expert at making a slave  feel pretty.
So Cheryl first had been bathed, and her hair been done  and set.  Then her
nails and  toenails had been trimmed, and polished.  Her lips and breasts
had been rouged, and perfume had been sprayed  several times between her
legs, in order that the scent should  linger.
It was true that her naked body was covered in red welts,  but those were
the marks of her position as slave.  Finally, Cheryl had been readied, and
Tina escorted her downstairs before Janet.
Janet had gone back to sleep in an effort to kill time as  Cheryl was made
ready for her.  Still, she had awakened early, showered and dressed, read
the Saturday  papers, and finally started work on the computer.
"Mistress Janet, Cheryl is here for your approval," said  Tina.
"Thank you, Tina.  Cheryl, step forward."
Cheryl did as she was ordered, and stood rock still.  Her hair shone, and
was drawn backwards  by a clip.  Her nails were all done  in a bright red,
along with her lips.  Janet looked over every part of her, inspecting her
slave.
"Thank you Tina, you've excelled yourself today.  She's beautiful."
"Thank you, Mistress."
"How do you feel, Cheryl?" asked Janet.
"Fine, Mistress."
"Did I hurt you last evening?" asked Janet.
"No, Mistress."
"Good.  You  will now learn how to take more and harsher strokes from me.
You will desire the lash and crop.  Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"You may now prepare and serve breakfast."
Janet ate in the dining room, after Tina and Cheryl had  prepared a meal of
scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast.  Janet ate leisurely, keeping an eye on
Cheryl.
Her charge held herself, erect, almost proud to display  the marks on her
flesh.  Even as  Janet remembered how Cheryl had restrained herself from
screaming in pain as  Janet had applied them just the day before.
There was no better or effective action than to take a  slave in your arms
after a session, sooth their wounds and minds, and make them  feel wanted
and loved.  Janet knew  that Cheryl felt prized by the attention that Janet
had given her after last  night.
That stood in marked contrast, Janet remembered, how  Erica had ignored her
sexually for months only allowing her to make love to  Tiffany.  How Janet
had pined for  Erica, yet her Domme would chain her at the foot of her bed.
The same bed that Janet now encouraged her slaves to join  her in, to show
that they were wanted and loved, and that their stripes were not  applied
just for whims of a selfish, capricious Mistress.
For the rest of the day, Janet decided, Cheryl would be  taught posture and
submission.  Tina  had been teaching her that already for some time.  But
now it would fall onto Mistress  Janet to teach her slave by herself.
"Cheryl, you may join me in the library after you have  cleaned up and
eaten breakfast," ordered Janet.
"Yes, Mistress."
Janet rose from the table, and left Cheryl and Tina to  both clean up and
eat themselves.  She estimated that Cheryl would be with her in about an
hour, and that  would be just fine, as she had work to do.
"Enter," Janet ordered from her desk chair.
Cheryl entered the library and stood in front of Janet's  desk, in silence,
awaiting the next orders from her Mistress.  Janet had been working on some
Xylex  projects, and on the desk were groups of paperwork and reports, with
the Company  name and logo displayed.
"Slavery of a different kind," commented  Janet.
"Mistress?" asked Cheryl.
"Nothing, just thinking aloud."
Janet opened the desk drawer and removed a crop, nipple  clamps, a butt
plug and dildo, and a few other things.
"Do you know what these are?" asked Janet.
"The instruments of my slavery, Mistress."
"Yes.  All of  these things can produce both pain and pleasure in a slave,"
 Janet  described.
"Yes, Mistress."
"I want you to come and rest your hands on the desk, with  your legs apart,"
 Janet ordered.
"Yes, Mistress."
Cheryl did as she was told, and Janet got to her feet,  walked around to
Cheryl's rear, and probed deep into her sex.
"Ooooh!" cried Cheryl.
"You wet so easily, Cheryl.  Did you always get wet so fast before  you
came to me?" asked Janet.
"No, Mistress."
"Then Tina's training has proven successful, hasn't  it?"
"Yes, Mistress."
Janet picked up two small metallic objects in her right  hand and displayed
them to Cheryl by opening her palm.
"Do you know what these are?" asked Janet.
"No, Mistress."
"Clamps for those erect nipples of yours.  Hold still."
Cheryl gripped the edge of Janet's desk tightly as the  nipple clamps were
first applied them tightened onto her nipples.  Since she was already
sexually excited  they had become erect and distinct.
"Aaaah!" cried Cheryl.
"It's all right to cry out Cheryl," said Janet, "I did  the first that
they were used on me also."
Cheryl bore her ordeal in silence, her eyes wandering  over the surface of
Janet's desk, her eyes finally fixating on the company  stationary and
reports from Xylex.  She swallowed nervously, and memorized the company's name
for future  reference.
Janet next picked up the crop, and issued several  stinging blows to Cheryl'
s exposed bottom, leaving a red stripe behind on her  flesh.  Cheryl jumped
slightly after  every stroke was delivered.
"Aaaah!" cried Cheryl, in response to Janet last and most  severe stroke.
"There now," said Janet, "now you're in the proper frame  of mind.  Kiss
the crop."
Cheryl did as she was told, in silence.  Her painted red lips left traces
of  color behind on the black leather surface of the crop.
"Now the real training begins.  On your knees, Cheryl," Janet  ordered.
"Yes, Mistress," Cheryl answered, as she assumed her  position on the
floor, her knees opened wide with her hands on her  kneecaps.
"How do your nipples feel?"
"Numb, Mistress."
Janet noticed that Cheryl made no attempt to remove  them.  Good, that
meant that Cheryl  was learning her place.
"I'm going to put you though a series of postures, so  that you will know
many submissive positions.  You'll continue to wear the clamps at  all
times, until I remove them.  If  you remove them, I can promise you at least
twenty strokes with the crop.  So the only choices that you have are  the ones
that have been given to you by your Mistress, or not to serve me at  all.  Do
you understand?" asked  Janet.
"Yes, Mistress," answered Cheryl.
"Then we begin," said Janet.
For the next hour, Janet taught Cheryl numerous  submissive positions.
Cheryl was  made to place her body into many different postures, with Janet
carefully  teaching her each one.
When Cheryl couldn't properly do a position on her own,  Janet showed her
by assuming the position herself.  Then forcing Cheryl into the position
through the use of the riding crop.
Finally, after an hour, Janet ordered Cheryl to her knees  again, then
suddenly removed both nipple clamps, making Cheryl jump in  response.
"Aaaaah!" cried Cheryl, as her nipples became pinpoints  of fire.
"It will pass," said Janet.
"Thank you, Mistress."
"Once you've recovered, Cheryl, I want you to demonstrate  all of the
positions that you've just learned.  Without the clamps this  time."
"Yes, Mistress."
Cheryl did as she was ordered, and when she made one  mistake Janet
delivered a few strokes of the crop onto Cheryl's exposed thigh,  leaving stripes
behind.
"I hope that you're not planning on going to the beach  this summer,"
Janet cautioned, "since welts are a little hard to  explain."
"No, Mistress."
"Good."
Cheryl's training was interrupted by a knock on the door,  exactly at
twelve noon.
"Come," Janet ordered.
"Lunch, Mistress," Tina announced.
"Thank you, Tina."
Janet was served a lunch of roast beef sandwich, salad,  and iced tea on
the sundeck outside.  The weather was simply too good to stay indoors all day!
"Cheryl, you may eat with Tina, then resume your  chores.  I have some
other work to  do, though I may call you later."
"Yes, Mistress," answered Cheryl.
It was at four in the afternoon when the phone rang, and  things began to
go horribly wrong.  Janet picked up the phone, wondering who was calling,
since she had not  been expecting anyone.
"Janet here."
"Janet, it's Lori.  I'm so glad I got you, look I'm in trouble.  My car
overheated, and I'm on  Lake  Avenue, first exit I could find off 95.  Since
I was going to see you later  tonight anyway."
"I'll be right over," offered Janet, "sit  tight."
"Okay."
"Tina!" called Janet as she grabbed her purse.
"Yes, Mistress," answered Tina from upstairs where she  and Tina were
working together.
"Mistress Lori just called, she's stuck on Lake Avenue.  I'm going to go
get her."
"Yes, Mistress."
It wasn't until Janet was on the road that she began  wondering what Lori
meant that they would be seeing each other later that  evening.  After a
drive of a few  minutes, Janet saw Lori's car, a red Chevrolet, on Lake Avenue
not far  from the Parkway Exit.
Janet pulled her car to the other side of the road and  parked behind Lori'
s, who came running to her.
"Janet, thank you, I wouldn't know who else to call,"  greeted Lori.
Mistress Lori was a Domme from Brookline, Massachusetts.  Lori was just
thirty, blonde, five feet  five inches tall with a nice figure and a pleasant
personality and was one of  Janet's friend's in the scene.  She  owned a
house that she shared with her sub, Gina.  They had a small playroom in the
basement that they used for entertainment, and Janet had been there a few
times.
"Glad I could help, what's the problem?"
"I overheated, I think."
Janet raised the hood, and opened the radiator, which was  empty.  She
always carried a gallon  of water and anti-freeze with her, so she refilled the
radiator.  She had Lori crank the engine, which  emitted a metallic whine.
"Water pump," concluded Janet, "you're stuck."
"Can it be fixed?"
"I know a garage that can tow it, and they'll fix it  tomorrow.  This is
at least a  three-hour job, Lori.  Looks like  you'll be spending the night
with me," offered Janet.
"Well, since we're both going to that party for Nina at  the Lock & Key
this evening in Manhattan."
"That's next week," stated Janet.
"It's this week."
Lori opened her purse, and withdrew an envelope.  She removed the
invitation, and  displayed it for Janet to read.
"Damn!" exclaimed Janet, "I thought it was next  week!"
"Surprise!  Glad I happened by.  So we'll  get my car towed, and we can
all go into Manhattan together," answered Lori.
"Damn, there go all my plans," said Janet, thinking of  Cheryl.
Janet withdrew her cell phone, and called the  garage.  They said that they
would  be over in about a half-hour to tow Lori's car.
"Tina," said Janet as she called home.
"Yes, Mistress?"
"I've made a terrible mistake!  Dig out my desk calendar and find the
invite for Nina's party, it's tonight!"
"Yes, Janet."
"Then make dinner for two, we'll be having Lori over as a  guest, then
send Cheryl home early and go to the party."
"Good thing we got our clothes already,  Mistress."
"It will be a little tawdry for Cheryl to serve naked, so  get her into a
Maid's uniform and tell her to behave, or else!"
For the last month, Janet and Tina had been training  Cheryl in how to
behave as a slave.  Janet also recalled that Cheryl had wanted to be given to
another  Domme.  She wasn't ready yet, but  she was ready to be displayed to
another Mistress.
"Yes, Mistress," answered Tina.
"Thanks, Tina," said Janet as she cut the  connection.
"Who's Cheryl?" asked Lori as Janet stowed away her cell  phone in her
purse.
"A new slave I'm training," Janet answered.
"Any good?"
"She has to learn submission.  Where's Gina, normally you two are
inseparable?"
"Her brother was injured in a car accident, so she flew  home three days
ago."
"Will he be all right?" asked Janet.
"I think so, at least that's what Gina said last  night."
"Good."
In due time, the flat bed truck arrived, and the two  women watched as Lori'
s car was pulled onto the truck's bed.  Lori had unloaded her suitcases and
 clothes into Janet's Toyota while they had been waiting.
The mechanic said that he could do the car tomorrow, and  it would be ready
by one or two.  Janet thanked him, and the two women got into Janet's car.
Janet started the engine and they pulled  out into traffic and towards Janet
's Mansion.
"One of the benefits of living in a wealthy area is that  there's a shop
open on Sunday."
"Guess the rich get special treatment, right?" asked  Lori.
"Yes, at the business end of my crop," Janet  laughed.
Janet drove towards home, and looked at her watch.  It was already almost
five.  There was enough time for dinner, then  showing off Cheryl to her
guest. Then Janet, Tina and Lori would have to go into  the city to the party.
"So, tell me all about Cheryl?" asked Lori as Janet drove  home.
"Thirty five, nice figure, has never served a Domme  before."
"I'm jealous," commented Lori.
Janet wondered just how jealous Lori would really be if  she knew the truth
about Cheryl, how the stranger had forced herself onto  Mistress Janet.
"How is she responding to you?" Lori asked, clearly  curious.
"Very well, but she disobeyed an order yesterday, so I  gave her a
punishment that she's not likely to forget."
"The whip?"
"Thirty-five strokes."
"I think that she'll remember that for a long time,"  observed Lori, "and
how is she in bed?"
"Learning."
"I'm sure that when you're done, she'll be a superb  slave," complimented
Lori.
"Thank you."
Janet pressed the button as she pulled the car into the  driveway, and the
gate swung open then closed behind them as the car passed the  gates.  She
pulled to a stop in  front of the house and cut the engine.
"Home," said Janet.
They exited the car together, and walked up the landing,  where Tina had
already opened the door.  Tina and Cheryl were dressed in matching satin Maid'
s uniforms, complete  with a kerchief on their heads.
"Mistress Janet," greeted Tina.
"Tina, you know Mistress Lori."
"Yes, greetings Mistress," answered Tina, as she took a  small curtsy.
"Tina," replied Lori, "nice to see you again."
"This is Cheryl, who is still being trained," introduced  Janet.
"Mistress Lori," greeted Cheryl.
"Cheryl, you are owned by a truly wonderful  Mistress.  Learn from  her."
"Thank you, Mistress Lori," replied Cheryl.
"Tina, remove Lori's clothes from the Toyota and place them in  the guest
bedroom.  We'll freshen up  and be in the library.  When will  dinner be
ready?"
"Forty minutes, Mistress."
"Excellent," answered Janet, "come with me Lori, we have  much to discuss."

"Dinner is served," announced Tina.
After their arrival, Janet had shown Lori to her bedroom  and moments
later, Tina and Cheryl had arrived carrying her bags and  clothes.  Janet and
Cheryl had both  taken a quick shower, then dressed into the clothes that they
would be wearing  into the city.
The birthday party for Mistress Nina would be held in the  Lock & Key, an
S&M club in the meatpacking district down in Manhattan.  Since it would be
highly impractical to  drive down wearing their scene clothing, they would
change at the  club.
Janet was wearing a red DKNY dress that she had bought at  Macy's, along
with sheer nude pantyhose and sensible heels.  Lori was wearing a blouse and
skirt  combination from Anne Taylor, in blue, with matching blue shoes.
After hanging her things in the closet, Lori had phoned  the friends that
she was supposed to dine with in Manhattan to explain about her car breaking
down and she would be driving in with Mistress Janet.  So Lori could dine
with Janet without  having stood up her other friends.
Janet and her guest had been talking in the library,  drinking from a
bottle of white wine and sharing scene stories together.  Lori told her all about
Boston, a city that Janet  adored, but rarely visited.  Lori  was
overwhelmed by New  York, and could not imagine working or even living  there.
"Thank you, Tina," said Janet, "come let's see what Tina  has made for us.
"
Carrying their glasses, they two Dommes walked the few  steps to the dining
room.  Tina and  Cheryl had set the room for a semi-formal dinner.  They
would not have the time for a  formal, multi-course Dinner.  But  the table
was set with the best dishes, silverware, and flowers adorned the  table.
Janet sat at the head of the table, and Lori at her  side.  Cheryl pushed
their seats in  behind them, then offered more wine.
Tina then rolled in a cart from the kitchen, and placed a  large covered
platter and two smaller ones on the table.  She then removed the covers,
placing  them back on the trolley.
"Roast Chicken, parsleyed potatoes, and steamed broccoli,  Mistress Janet,"
 announced Tina.
"Thank you, Tina, excellent," complimented  Janet.
"Mmmmmm, smells good," agreed Lori.
Tina cut the chicken with a large knife and fork, then  served each
Mistress in turn.  She  gave both of them a generous helping of her cooking, which
they consumed  eagerly.  Cheryl would only serve  wine or water, as she was
just a new slave in training.
"If I ate like this every day, I'd be big as a house,"  laughed Lori.
"Why do you think I have a weight room?" answered  Janet.
"Do you have any exercise clothes for tomorrow?" asked  Lori.
"Exercise clothes, who needs exercise clothes," laughed  Janet, "you've
never been in my sauna upstairs."
"You have a sauna?"
"Yes," answered Janet between sips of wine.
"I should visit you more often, Janet," Lori  replied.
"I also have a constant supply of birch branches to use  on one another,
and towels are strictly optional in this house."
Lori laughed, and Janet joined her in mirth.  The world of D/s was so
serious, so  solemn, it was easy to forget that humor helped to break the
tension.
Dinner was a short affair, and had to end quickly.  They both looked at
their watches, and  it was already nearly seven.
"Cheryl, once you've helped Tina clear the table and stow  away everything
in the kitchen, please come to see us in the  library."
"Yes, Mistress," Cheryl quickly answered.
Janet was describing the training of some of her other  slaves when Cheryl
knocked on the door some time later.
"Enter."
Cheryl entered the library doors, and closed them behind  her, but remained
close to the doors.
"Report."
"The table has been cleared, Tina and I have eaten, the  dishes are in the
washer, and the leftovers stored in the refrigerator,  Mistress."
"Excellent, you may approach me, Cheryl."
Cheryl did as she was told, standing before her Mistress  in silence.
"You may unzip your Maid's uniform and show your body and  marks to
Mistress Lori," Janet ordered.
"Yes, Mistress."
Hesitantly at first, Cheryl did as she was told.  She was now displaying
herself to  another Domme, which was what she had requested.
"Very pretty, Cheryl," commented Lori, "now turn  around."
Cheryl did as she was instructed, blushing and feeling  embarrassed by
displaying herself to another Domme.
"May I?" asked Lori.
"Of course, you're my guest," offered Janet.
Lori walked forward, and fondled Cheryl's breasts,  pinching her erect
nipples.  Then  she walked around to Cheryl's back, and traced the marks that
Janet had placed  there the previous night.
"You have been well used, Cheryl.  With the whip?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Bend over," casually ordered Lori.
"Aaaah!" cried Cheryl as Lori roughly forced two of her  fingers into her
sex.
"Are you always that wet, Cheryl?" demanded  Lori.
"Yes, Mistress," cried Cheryl.
"Thank you, Janet," said Lori as she withdrew from  Cheryl.
There was a moment of silence in the library, with Cheryl  and Lori both
awaiting Janet's next orders.
"Cheryl, I'm sorry to say that I have to send you  home.  I have made a
mistake about  dates, and I have an engagement tonight.  I am therefore
sending you home, and will continue with you next  weekend.  Tina will free you,
and  has called the car.  Good evening,"  dismissed Janet.
Cheryl looked like she was going to protest, and Janet  could see both the
disappointment and anger in her face.  But she said nothing in  protest.
"Thank you, Mistress," answered Cheryl.
Cheryl picked up her Maid's uniform that she had draped  over a chair while
Mistress Lori had examined her.  She bowed, and left the library, closing
the door behind her.
After she had left, Lori turned to Janet with clear  concern on her face.
"Are you sure that she's a good choice to be trained as a  slave?" asked
Lori.
"Why?" asked Janet.
"Because she's dangerous, Janet.  Watch yourself with this one," cautioned
 Lori.
"Thank you."
"You usually like to loan a slave out to another Domme so  that they have
someone to compare to their own Mistress.  Janet I know that you use
Stephanie or  Blanca for that purpose.  Once she's  been trained, let me have her
instead," offered Cheryl.
"Why?"
"Because I think that I've seen her before."

>From the Journal of Cheryl Branford
I have learned this weekend that I cannot confront  Janet.  At least, not
yet.
I wore the rubber mackintosh raincoat in pure defiance of  her orders, and
was severely punished for my transgression.  Mistress Janet ordered me hung
by my  wrists from the Dungeon ceiling chain, my toes straining to reach the
floor for  what felt like an eternity.
Next Mistress Janet used a long thin leather whip on me  for thirty-five
strokes that I was made to count out, one after another.  I felt like
screaming from fear as I  thought that the flesh was being torn from my body, but I
counted out every  stroke of my punishment.
After my use was over, she released me.  I thought that I was going to be
left on  the floor, a sobbing beaten woman.  Instead, she tenderly took me in
her arms, comforting my hurt mind and  body.  She helped me to one of the
downstairs bedrooms, and rubbed salve onto my hurt flesh.
When I had recovered, I proved what I had learned by  making passionate
love to her.  I  have been both captivated and enslaved by Mistress Janet.
In the month that Janet has trained me, I have recently  had to confront a
disturbing truth about myself: am I submissive?  When I devised this plan, I
thought that  everything that would happen to me here I could somehow wall
off from the rest  of my personality and self.  Instead, I first found
myself sexually attracted to Janet after her very  first use of me.  Now, in less
than  one month, I have found that strange, disturbing submissive feelings
and  fantasies that I had kept buried deep within my mind have become free
to  manifest themselves in my conscious mind.
I now actually enjoy Janet pulling me over her knee and  spanking me until
my bottom hurts.  I become excited when I am suspended from the ceiling, and
flogged until  I cry.
I fear that when all of this is over, I shall be changed  forever, just as
Mistress Janet had cautioned me from the beginning.  I now know that I am
attracted to both  women and men sexually.  Now I  realize that I crave the
feel of the lash and crop.
What else will I learn about myself next?
The next day Janet put me through what she called posture  training.  I was
made to stand, lay  on the floor, and assume various submissive positions.
My mistakes were quickly corrected with  a crop, and I have no desire to
repeat them.
Saturday afternoon something important happened  also.  Janet got a phone
call, left,  and returned with another Dominatrix.  I was dressed, and made
to serve wine during Dinner.
After dinner, Mistress Lori fondled my breasts and sex,  invading me
sexually and subjected me to a close examination.  I had wanted Janet to loan me
to another  Domme, and now one was seeing me naked.
When I glanced into Mistress Lori's eyes, I saw what I  thought was the
look of recognition.  Has my plan collapsed already?            I then realized
that Tina and Janet had been talking on the phone about a  party, and Janet
had gotten the dates confused.  I was going to protest in front of
Mistress Lori that I wanted Janet to take me, then stopped myself.  For I realized
that my place as her  slave was to be silent, lest she take me to her
Dungeon and give me a thrashing  for misbehavior.  In addition any  party that
Janet would be invited to would also have Blanca and Stephanie  attending, and
I must keep my presence a secret.
I have learned one very important fact, that Janet has a  job in Marketing
for a firm called Xylex.  Great wealth is of no consequence if it is not
used  occasionally.

Chapter 6: Triumph and  Tragedy - Part One: Family Obligations - June 1983
Wednesday night was the slowest day of the week, so that  was the day that
mother and daughter usually met.  Each time, they met at a different diner
or restaurant, in a different town or city.  Erica had promised Eve that she
would  always live nearby, and had rented an apartment in Darien near where
she  worked.
After she had begun to serve Master Daniel, she had given  up her apartment
in Rye that she had taken as Alana Peters.  At least that place had cost
less, and  had been closer to Greenwich.
Darien lay further up the  coast, and they were meeting for Dinner at a
restaurant in Stamford, midway between Greenwich and Darien.   Erica had
returned home, changed,  then after fighting traffic arrived at the restaurant
just before  seven.
Eve's Mercedes was already in the lot, and Erica knew  that her BMW was
probably in the garage, unused.  Or rather, Alana's BMW. Erica Riken  drove a
Chevrolet, and parked it in the first available spot.  She rolled up the
window, grabbed her  purse, and locked the door behind her.
The restaurant was mostly empty, and Erica recognized Eve  seated in a
booth at the back.  She  made her way there, and Eve saw her and raised herself
out of her seat to kiss  Erica.
"Erica, how nice to see you," greeted Eve.
"Mother," Erica answered softly.
They both sat in the booth together, facing one  another.  Eve, who was in
her early  sixties, looked tired.  Erica  guessed that there was something
wrong.
"Drink?" asked a waitress, who appeared  suddenly.
"Any Tap beer will do," Erica answered.
"One for me also," added Eve.
The waitress took their orders, then walked away, to  return quickly with
their drinks.  Only after she was gone did they really begin to talk
together.
"How are you doing, Erica?  Everything all right?"
"Yes, the man I'm serving now is wonderful, not like the  first.  He cares
and understands,  and uses me properly."
"Does he beat you?" asked Eve.
"Not in the usual sense, that you're thinking about,  no.  But I get
spanked, cropped, and  whipped.  Does that answer your  question?" Erica replied.
"How can you talk about something like that so honestly?"  Eve questioned.
"Would you rather I lie?  This is what I came looking for when I  decided
to become Erica."
"Does he make love to you?"
"No, he's married, and his wife is his slave  also."
"When a mother talks to her daughter about sex, she  expects to hear more
normal things.  Like who snores, not her daughter being beaten."
"We've been though this before, Mom.  I know that it doesn't make any
sense.  But it makes me feel good,"  stated Erica.
They were interrupted by the waitress bringing their  dinners, Eve had
ordered a Chef Salad and Erica a cheeseburger and fries.  They both started
eating before  conversation resumed.
"I have changed the will to make Erica Riken the  beneficiary of my estate,
since Alana Peters was declared dead on the Amazon River," described Eve.
"Thank you," said Erica between bites.
"Erica, I just want to say that whatever you do, I still  love you."
"Thanks, Mom."
"Is this what you really want to be?  A slave?"
"Yes.  I know  that it's not rational."
They finished their meal making small talk together, then  Eve had to
excuse herself to go to the bathroom.  Erica kissed her good-bye, and Eve left
the restaurant first.
While Eve had gone to the bathroom, Erica had searched  her mother's purse.
 Inside, she  found a bottle of nitroglycerine tablets that had not been
there before.  Eve did not mention that fact, and  Erica's eyes grew moist
from the realization of what this meant.
"Mother," cried Erica, as she pounded her fists on the  steering wheel in
the parking lot as she prepared to leave.

Part Two: The Uncertain  Slave - June 1983
Erica pulled her car in Keith's driveway, happy that the  weekend was here.
Happy again that she could be a slave to Keith, for she  now looked forward
to serving her Master.
It had been five months since the party when her former  Master Daniel had
publicly given her to Keith when she had refused to let  herself be
sodomized in front of others.  Daniel had taken special delight, often with Lauren's
urging, to use her  in the one way that she detested.
When Keith had told her that she would be serving a  proper Master, she
really didn't have any idea what he had meant.  Now she did, and was truly
happy as a  result.
For the first month, while her injuries from Daniel had  healed, Keith had
made her write out extensive biographies of herself.  She had been examined,
and all of her  sexual feelings brought out in the light of day.
Erica was glad now for the money that she had spent to  create her new
identity.  When the  lawyers had recommended some shadowy people to her, and a
high price, she had  balked.  What they had done was to  create a new
identity for her, then ruthlessly drill it into her after her  recovery from the
plastic surgery.
Where she grew up, her schooling and friends.  Her grades, boyfriends,
sexual  encounters, and all of the other details of ordinary life.  At first,
Erica had resented all of this  silliness.  It was only later that  she
learned that the people she had hired were retired agents from the CIA and
Justice Department, who had trained undercover operatives for spy  missions.
Erica was then able to recite from memory her new life,  and she believed
that Keith accepted it.  He had not asked her about Alana Peters again, but
she always felt that  he harbored some doubts about who she really was.
Still, that did not matter.  For Keith was a wonderful Master.  Every
encounter with him left her  satisfied, and wanting more.  She  adored being with
him, feeling his lash, and following his training.  Which often left her
exhausted, and  hurting.
She had done the shopping the previous night, and  everything was in the
car.  She  would cook dinner for Keith and Beth!
Erica parked the car and opened the front door of the  house, then unloaded
the groceries.  She quickly brought them into the kitchen, where Beth had
laid everything  out for her in advance.
Repairing to a bedroom, she stripped off all her clothes,  then donned an
apron.  She would not  wear her collar and bracelets until later that evening
when she would be used in  the playroom downstairs.  Dashing  back to the
kitchen, she glanced at the clock, and set about preparing Beef  Stroganoff.
First, she cooked the meat and spices in a Dutch oven on  top of the stove.
 That would take  about an hour.  While that was  cooking, she prepared a
salad, and set the table.  She placed candles on the table, since  she wanted
this dinner to be special.
Just before the meat was ready, Erica heard the front  door open.  She
rushed out of the  kitchen to see Keith standing in the foyer, carrying his
case.
"Erica," he greeted her.
"Master," said Erica when she knelt before  him.
"You had better get back to the kitchen, that smells  wonderful!" he
commented.
"Thank you, sir," said Erica as she rose.
When the beef was done, Erica heard the door open again,  and guessed that
Beth must have come back from work.  She was soon joined in the  kitchen.
"Mmmmm," said Beth as she entered the kitchen, "I can't  cook like that."
"I took a few classes," said Erica.
"Can I help?" asked Beth.
"We can start with the Salad and Black Bread, and by the  time we're
finished with that, the noodles will be done and we'll be ready for  the main
course."
The three of them sat down, and opened a bottle of red  wine before eating,
and started on the salad first.  Erica would glance at the clock to gauge
how the noodles were cooking.  She  finished her salad, then excused
herself.
The noodles were done, and Erica drained them.  Beth joined her, and they
carried a pot  with the noodles and another with the main course itself into
the dining  room.  They placed both on the table  and uncovered them both.
Erica ran  back to the kitchen and placed some sour cream into a dish, then
placed that on  the table as well.
Beth placed a generous helping of noodles onto a plate,  and then Erica
topped it with the Stroganoff, finally followed by some sour  cream.  She
placed it in front of  Keith, who inhaled the fragrant aroma rising in front of
him.
There was also a pitcher of hot tea, making it as Russian  a meal as
possible.
"Excellent," he said after sampling some of Erica's  cooking, "simply
excellent."
"Thank you, Sir," replied Erica.
"You're welcome."
With that, Erica and Beth served themselves and they  began eating,
exchanging small talk about work.  Erica had finally found peace in serving  and
submission.  Her search had  finally ended.
In the first month of her service to Keith, she had not  been used.  He had
insisted that her  injuries from Daniel heal first.  He  had ordered that
she read all of the books that she had bought about D/s; then  assigned some
of his own as well.  She had to write commentary on each one, and understand
the point that  the author had written.  Once, she  had failed to read a
book as ordered, and he had paddled her until she could  barely sit down.
After that, she  had obeyed all of his orders without question.
After Dinner, Erica and Beth were washing up the kitchen  and stowing
everything away when Keith walked in.
"Sir?" asked Erica.
"When you're done with the dishes, I would like to see  you in the study.
Alone."
"Yes, Sir," Erica answered quickly.
Deep down, in the pit of her stomach, Erica was suddenly  afraid.  His look
and tone had told  her that something important was going to happen.  But
she had no clue what it might  be!
After Erica and Beth had finished, Erica removed her  apron that she had
worn since she had entered Keith's house and started  cooking.  Naked, she
felt vulnerable  again, even though the apron really hadn't covered her much at
all.
She was wearing mules, and walked to Keith's study.  The door was open, and
she knocked the  frame, holding her breath.
"Enter," Keith ordered, "and kneel."
"Yes, Sir," Erica did as she was told.
"Are you satisfied with your training?" demanded  Keith.
"Yes, Sir.  You have tested both my body and my mind."
"Good.  Then  I have achieved my objective.  Do  you consider yourself to
be a Dominant, or a submissive?"
"I am your slave," proudly stated Erica.
Keith opened the top drawer of the desk, and removed a  flogger the strands
of which were made of rubber.  Erica remembered that it had been used  on
her before.
"Hands behind your head," Keith coldly  ordered.
Once she had done so, and her breasts stuck out, Keith  rose from his chair
walked the few steps over to her, and struck her breasts  several times
with the flogger.  The  multiple strands stung each time they impacted on her
flesh.
"Answer the question," ordered Keith, "Dominant or  submissive?"
"I," Erica stammered, "I.........I'm not sure, Sir."
"Better," Keith answered, striking her breasts several  times more with
the flogger, before resuming his seat.
"Why?" cried Erica, "why?"
"You can put your hands on your knees, Erica.  You have been an eager and
willing slave  these last few months, and I'm proud of your progress."
"Thank you, Sir," Erica answered as she did what she was  told.
"But you must understand what we have discussed  earlier.  I can't keep
you as a  slave, Erica."
"Sir, I want to owned by you."
"I can't do that, Erica.  I'm sorry, but that's the way it has to  be.
Perhaps your destiny lies along a different  path."
"Sir?"
"I'm not really sure that you're a submissive.  At least, not totally.
When I let you Domme that female slave  Rachel last month, you displayed
excellent skills with her."
"Thank you, Sir."
"Tonight, for preparing such an excellent dinner, I shall  use you in the
playroom.  Then  perhaps I can arrange a surprise for tomorrow."
"Thank you, Sir," Erica answered, happy that she had made  her Master feel
the same way.
"Rest for a while, and then don your collar and  bracelets.  I'll be along
 shortly.  Thank you," said  Keith.
"Thank you, Sir," Erica answered.
On her way out of the room, Erica wished that he would  have fondled her
breasts, pinched her nipples or bottom, or done something with  her.  Instead,
he would only use her  in the playroom.
After she had been with Keith and Beth for a month, he  had told her that
they were called "Trainers;" a couple that would train slaves  for others,
both Doms and Dommes.  They would train her, but probably not keep her as a
slave  themselves.
At the conclusion of their training, they would help find  Erica a suitable
Master.  Indeed,  last month, they had introduced her to one.  He was
attractive, handsome, and he had  been allowed the use of her.  However, Erica
didn't like him very much, there hadn't been any chemistry  between them.
Pausing outside Keith's study, a wave of melancholy swept  over Erica.  She
desired something  else, and she returned to his door.
"Sir?" asked Erica.
"Yes," he answered.
"Could I be chained in the playroom for a while, alone,  before my use,
please?" asked Erica.
"Yes, go ask Beth and tell her that I said that it would  be all right.
You wish to be alone, then?"
"Yes, Sir."

Erica rested her bare bottom and the soles of her feet on  the polished
wooden floor of the playroom.  Her neck was encased in her collar, and her
wrists were wearing the  familiar leather bracelets. A single chain that began
at a ringbolt set in the  wall was first locked to her collar, then her wrist
bracelets, and finally ended  in a pair of steel cuffs that had been locked
on her ankles.
Bound like this, she could extend her legs until they  were flat on the
floor, but instead she preferred to draw her knees up and rest  her hands and
head on her kneecaps.
Erica sat in silence, not knowing or caring how long she  was bound.  Keith
had first placed  her in this position in the playroom, and she had been
forced to endure it for  hours.  But over time, Erica had  decided that she
liked being bound, and she even tugged at the steel cuffs on  her ankles.
It was strange, she thought, that her mind could roam at  will, and think
of all kinds of things, even as her body was chained to the  wall.
She fingered the steel cuffs on her ankles, and thought  of Irene at work.
Irene was a  secretary who was an active vital woman, indeed Erica had
tagged along one day  after work to happy hour and had shared a few drinks and
dances with her.  Irene had just announced her engagement,  and she had begun
to wear both a ring around her finger and a chain around her  ankle.
While she didn't double date with Irene, she had heard  from the other
girls who did that Irene was now playing dumb towards her  fiancée. She would
agree with whatever he had to say, did what she was told, and  keep her
opinions to herself.
The usual rationale that a woman gave in life for doing  that to herself
was that sort of conduct was the price of having and keeping a  man.  That was
the price of a  diamond ring.
Was that so different than the price that she was paying  to be a slave?
Except that in  exchange for being a slave and wearing chains, she was free
to be whipped and  striped by her Master.
At least what Erica did in being a slave was more honest,  submitting
herself and her body to the use of a Master.  It took a lot of strength to do
that,  thought Erica.  To endure the lash  and the crop showed not her
weakness, but her courage as well!
Seated on the floor, Erica thought that it just wasn't  fair!  She had
endured so much,  suffered so much, had finally found a Master who she could
love, and he couldn't  own her for long!  He would  interview other Masters for
her, and finally select one and that would be the  last that she would see
of Keith.
She had wanted to be chained so that she wouldn't even  have the illusion
of freedom.  There  was something implacable about steel and leather
restraining her.  Which had made slavery very real to her  in a physical sense.
Erica looked at the other toys in the playroom.  There was an X frame, a
padded bar that  a slave could be bent over and bound to, a set of stocks, and
various other  chains that a slave could be secured to.  In the last few
months, Erica had experienced all of these.
But nothing hurt a much as the knowledge that soon Keith  would find a
Master for her.  She  felt like crying, but tears wouldn't come.  All of her
life, she had been taunted as the rich girl.  First at Greenwich High School,
next at  Radcliffe, then at Harvard.
She wondered just how many other female graduates from  Harvard were into
D/s.  Probably not  many, and Erica thought that the experience might be good
for some of them.  Might just make them humble and teach  them a thing or
two.
If her concerns about Keith weren't enough, her sexual  confusion was
causing her problems as well.  Prior to making love to Jasmine that  night, she
had never before been made love to by a woman.  She thought that she had
always been  attracted to men.
But now every time that she passed an attractive woman in  the street or
the mall, she undressed them with her eyes.  More than once, her nipples had
hardened  and she felt her panties wet with desire.
Erica rubbed her toes together, enjoying the sound of the  chain clinking
together.  She pulled  at it with all her strength, fantasizing that she
could pull it from the  wall.  Instead, all it did was to  make the muscles
stand out in her arms, and she still remained  chained.
"All you all right, Erica?" asked Keith.
Erica had not heard the door open or his steps to  her.  She had been so
wrapped up in  thoughts that she had kept hidden for weeks.
"No, yes, I don't know!" declared Erica.
"Are you doing penance for something?  Would you like to be locked in the
stocks?"
"No, sir.  Chained on the floor is just fine."
"I'm sorry I don't have a cell of some kind, but I never  got round to
building one."
Erica laughed, and his comments brought a smile to her  face.
"What do you want, Erica?"
"Make love to me, Sir.  Take me on the floor, spread my legs,  and fuck me.
Hard, any way you like.  It doesn't matter."
"You know why I can't really do that," said  Keith.
Erica then clinked her chains in response.
"Do you still consent to be used tonight?" asked  Keith.
"Yes, use me, please.  Hard," begged Erica.
"As you wish.  Beth will be by shortly to hang you from the ceiling.  I won'
t keep you waiting too  long."
"Thank you, Sir."
Erica hoped that she would be in for a really intense  session.  One that
would leave her  body marked, one where she would be screaming in pain and
pleasure  afterwards.
Pain, she had read, sharpens the mind.
She waited in her chains for what would happen next, and  drew her knees up
to her chin.  Erica reached down between her legs and pulled at the steel
around her  ankles.  Bondage brought patience,  if nothing else.  After all,
she had  nowhere to go.

After some time, Beth joined her, who then released Erica  from the floor.
She glanced down at herself, and hoped that when Keith  would be finished
with her that she would be thoroughly striped.
"Come," directed Beth.
Erica had not worn her ankle bracelets, and the chain  that had bound her
terminated in two gleaming stainless steel cuffs.  So Beth had handed them to
her, and  Erica had locked them upon herself.
Beth was now wearing a black rubber bodysuit, and Erica  noted that she had
nothing on underneath.  Beth's nipples protruded under the rubber, and the
outlines of her slit  were visible from the tight rubber as well.  She was
wearing a thick black rubber  collar around her neck, earrings, and a pair of
matching black heels.
Erica remained silent as she was led to a ceiling chain,  and Beth secured
her wrist cuffs.  Then, Beth retrieved a spreader bar from the cabinet, and
locked Erica's  ankles apart.  Finally, Beth  activated a small motor, and
Erica rose off the floor a few inches.
Hanging from the ceiling made Erica's breasts stick out,  and made her
conscious again of just how exposed she was.  But that didn't matter, nothing
did.
However Keith would use her, she wouldn't protest.  She wouldn't beg for
mercy, or cry.  She wanted all of the punishment that  her Master could give.
"Are you ready?" asked Beth.
"Yes," answered Erica, "I don't care what Keith does to  me."
"I'll be sure and tell him that."
"Thank you."
Erica didn't know and didn't care how long she hung by  her wrists.  Her
feet were within  touching distance of the floor, which she could feel with
her toes.  After a while, her shoulders had begun  to hurt, but it didn't
matter.
She could not be possessed by the man that she loved so  what better than
to be severely used by him instead.  His marks would be the indication of his
 love for her, and those alone.
"Kiss the whip."
Keith's sudden orders startled Erica back to reality, for  she had been
captivated in her own little world.
"Yes, Sir!"
"Your use will come in two parts.  First, I am going to whip you  severely.
I shall not strike you hard enough to break the skin, or  make you bleed.
But I shall leave  many stripes behind that will sting and marks behind that
will last.  Do I have your consent?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"Then you shall be taken down and strapped tightly over  the bar.  I will
then use the cane  on your bottom and thighs.  Do you  consent to that also?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"Is this by your own choice?"
"Yes, Master."
"Do you want a gag?  You can hold a coin and when dropped it will be your
safeword  signal."
"No sir, I don't want a gag.  Please proceed?" she asked.
"Very well then, you will not have to count the  strokes.  Prepare to be
used."
Erica tensed in her bondage, aware that this was the path  that she had
chosen for herself.  Her muscles tightened by themselves, in anticipation of
the ordeal that  she was about to undergo.
"Now we begin," said Keith.
In the months she had been trained by Keith, she had  learned to recognize
his mood by the force and rhythm of his strokes.  He had asked her a direct
question, and  she had deliberately avoided giving him a direct answer.
Then she had asked to be chained in the  playroom and given a severe
punishment.
It was no wonder that his strokes were firm and  effective, as the whip
slapped itself against her flesh then wrapped around  her.  With each stroke,
her moved a  bit, gradually circling her, so that the whip would strike a
different part of  her body each time.
With her legs opened, every few strokes she would feel it  reach inside and
strike the outside of her sex.  Then either her breasts or underarms  would
feel the sting of the whip.
"Ten!" cried Erica.
"There's no need to count, Erica," said Keith.
"I'll count anyway," answered Erica.
"As you wish."
Nothing else in the world mattered now, as each stroke of  the whip
impacted on her flesh.  Nothing!  She was just a  naked woman, going under the lash
of the man that she desired, but couldn't  have.
When Keith and Beth had taken her under their wing, and  had begun to train
her, Erica thought that she finally had found what she had  always wanted.
But when she had  discovered that they were only going to have her for a
short period of time she  had felt betrayed.
"Twenty!"
Keith had fulfilled everything that he had said that he  would do with her.
 He had first  ordered her to begin reading and understanding just what she
had  chosen.
When her wounds from Daniel had finally healed, he had  started to use her.
 The very first  thing that she had chosen was her safeword, which was
mercy.  Not very original, but it would  do!
"Twenty-five!"
He had begun training her slowly, gradually at  first.  Her posture had
been  corrected, and she no longer slouched.  Instead, she held herself
straight, and her breasts stuck out.  Beth had taught her how to walk, and  show
off her body.
Even her co-workers had noticed something different in  her as the weeks
passed, and one woman had tried to set her up with a  neighbor.  Erica had
politely  declined.
"Thirty!"
At a scene party that Keith and Beth had taken her to,  she had overheard a
conversation about a sub that would wear out her Dom.  The woman could
simply absorb so much  punishment that she would tire her Dom out.
Erica never knew how long that Keith could use her, since  he had never
used her in anger before.  But now she didn't care!
"Thirty-five!"
The sweat was pouring off her body, dripping down her  breasts and between
her legs.  She  felt the drops join and run together, her skin heating up
from the constant  strokes of the whip.
"Forty!"
Her mind had divorced itself from her body, and she felt  herself floating
outside, looking down at herself.  Just as she had learned to do while in
the hospital bed, as they had denied her the painkillers that she had begged
for.
"Fifty!"
"Enough," said Keith, "Beth, take her down  quickly!"
Erica had not realized that she had been crying until she  tasted the
saltiness of her own tears running into her mouth.  Keith unlocked her spreader
bar, then  the ceiling chain.  Erica slumped  into his arms, her body unable
to support it's own weight.  He pulled her over to a leather-covered  bench,
and sat her down, holding her closely to his body.
"Are you all right?" Daniel asked.
"Fine," Erica sobbed.
"I should have stopped long ago."
"No, it's all right.  Really."
Erica's entire body was slick with her sweat, and she  felt Keith's hands
grip onto her strongly so that she wouldn't slip out of his  grasp.  Her
body was warm, like it  was on fire.  But she didn't feel  any pain at all, but
rather a dull ache throughout her whole frame.
Keith held onto her, and Erica remained silent, slowly  regaining her
faculties.  She rubbed  her hands together, and her hands and arms were the only
part of her body that  had not felt the lash.
Erica looked at her legs, and saw that they were  extensively marked.  Even
though it  was summer, she would have to wear pants until the marks healed,
as a skirt  would be out of the question.
"What are you thinking about?" Keith asked.
"Pants, I'm going to have to wear pants until my legs  heal."
"Would you like a drink?"
"Yes."
Beth handed Erica a glass of water, and she drank it  slowly, a swallow at
a time.  After  a session, she had once tried to drink too fast, and had
choked.  So Erica had learned to take water  slowly after an ordeal like the
session that she had just done.
"Are you all right?" asked Keith, again.
"Fine, Sir."
"We don't have to continue, we can stop now.  You've just had a harsh
session, not  many slaves could have taken that much use."
Glancing down at herself, Erica was shocked to see the  marks between her
legs, on her breasts, her stomach.  Everywhere except her bottom!  Which was
why she could sit down in the  first place!
Keith had not beaten her behind since he intended to use  the cane there
later.  She would  have been unable to sit down with her bottom on fire.
Erica guessed that a half-hour or more had elapsed, and  she had drunk two
more glasses of water.  She wondered just how much she had sweated out when
she had gone under  the lash, and she desired a bath, badly.
"I'm ready to continue," stated Erica firmly.
Had she really asked to be further used?  Keith had shown her all of the
instruments in his cabinet, including the cane.  She had weighed the rod in
her hands,  and feared the day that it would actually be used upon her.
"Are you sure?"
Erica had wanted to answer that if she could not have his  shaft inside
her, then she would settle for the cane instead.  But she had stayed silent.
Merely  nodding her assent.
Erica rose shakily from the bench, glad that she was  barefoot and not
wearing any kind of heels, high or otherwise.  There was a full-length mirror
set into  the wall, and Erica walked over to it.  It was hidden behind a
panel, which she unlocked.
Naked, she unlocked the panel and swung the door  open.  She almost wanted
to gasp  when she saw the fresh marks on her body, though she realized that
she had  regularly heard stories about slaves who were often whipped until
they  bled.
She closed the panel in silence, then walked over to the  vinyl-covered
sawhorse.  Erica  opened her legs, then bent over, her hair cascading down
around her  legs.
All that she needed now was for either Beth or Keith to  bind her to the
horse, and her second ordeal could begin.  She waited, wondering is Keith
would  continue, or decide to stop.
"Bind me," Erica ordered, "then cane me,  please?"
"There's no need for this, Erica, you've already proven  yourself tonight.
 You deserve  praise for a Dinner like that, not a severe beating instead,"
said  Keith.
Dinner seemed like a million years ago, had she really  done that?  Twice
now in her slavery  she had made an extravagant meal, and both times she had
been severely  used.  Though for different  reasons.
"Use me, please?"
"Beth," Keith ordered, "bind her."
Erica dully watched as her bracelets were locked to the  sawhorse and
pulled tight.  Her arms  and legs were stretched, and her bottom was sticking up
high in the air.  Her stomach was resting on the  vinyl-covered surface.
Beth pulled  the chains binding her taut, and Erica would no freedom of
movement at  all.
Keith displayed the cane for her in his hands.  He held it tightly in his
fingers.
"This is a rattan cane, made from bamboo.  It will hurt you very much.
There is no need for this Erica, you have proven your  submission to me."
"Go ahead, Sir.  I am ready to receive your punishment," Erica replied.
"As you wish then."
In her time as a slave, Erica had been used with a whip,  crop, cat,
paddle, and other instruments of punishment.  But nothing had prepared her for the
 impact of the cane, which felt like a streak of fire across her  bottom.
"Aaaaaah!" Erica cried.
Strokes with the cane were delivered slowly, one at a  time, each one
calculated to bring the most agony to the intended  subject.
"Aaaaaah!"
Erica quickly realized why she had been bound in this  manner.  The only
parts of her body  that Keith would use the cane on would be her bottom and
the back of her thighs,  two parts that had the most fat to cushion the impact
of the cane.
"Aaaaaah!"
Even though she had been harshly whipped for a long time,  Erica realized
that not even the most trained and experienced slave would ever  be able to
take many strokes from the cane.
"Aaaaaah!"
Not even the pain that she had endured in the hospital  bed as her body
healed from the accident had been like this.  This was different.
"Aaaaaah!"
Erica had not called mercy, even as she had been  whipped.  But now, for
the first  time in her slavery, she considered using her safeword.
"Aaaaaah!"
The sixth stroke of the cane landed on the inside of her  exposed thighs,
and Erica was concerned that she would lose control of her  bowels, which
stayed clamped shut.
"Aaaaah!"
Tears fell from her eyes onto the floor, and she saw the  playroom lights
reflected in them.
"Aaaaaah!"
The eighth stroke across her bottom left Erica wondering  not if she would
sit down, but if she would ever sit down again
"Aaaaaah!"
Pain, she had read, ennobled a person.  Evidently the person who wrote that
had  never been used with a cane.
"Aaaaaah!" cried Erica.
She had counted ten stokes, and then there were no  more.  Her body was
again ablaze,  even more than before.  Erica had  come close to calling her
safeword, for the first time.  There was a limit to her endurance and
tolerance for pain, which she had thought was limitless.
"Beth, release Erica," ordered Keith.
"Yes, Sir!"
Erica was released, and led over to the bench.  She sat down gradually, her
behind on  fire.
"I have to get some salve, Erica," said Beth, "you'll  feel better in a
bit."
Erica looked at Keith, directly into his eyes, which was  also forbidden.
"Thank you, Master," said Erica.
"You're welcome, Erica."
Keith then left the playroom, and Beth to take care of  Erica.  Beth would
massage salve  onto her skin, bathe her, and give Erica plenty of fluids.
Finally, she put Erica to bed, and Erica  fell quickly to sleep.
It was during the early hours in the morning when Erica  heard a noise in
her bedroom.  She  was naked under the single sheet, and still weak from her
ordeal.  Beth had told her that she would be all  right after a night's
rest.
The noise had awakened her, and she was afraid, was there  a burglar in the
house?
"Erica?" asked Keith's voice, "are you awake?"
"Yes, sir," she softly answered.
"How are you feeling?"
"Punished."
In the dim moonlight, she saw that Keith was wearing a  short black kimono
robe.  She  watched as he removed it, and draped it over a chair.
"Sir?"
Keith lifted the sheet and slipped into the bed next to  Erica, and faced
her in the darkness.
"I have explained your feelings to Beth, and she has  understood them.  For
just this one  night, Erica, I shall make love to a slave that I am
training.  Never again with you, or anyone  else."
"Keith," said Erica as she grabbed hold of him, before he  wrestled her
onto her back.
Erica did not need to be told what to do.  She opened her legs to admit his
shaft,  which was already hard.  He had a  few foil wrapped condoms in his
hands, which he deposited on the night  table.  He tore open one and Erica
unrolled the latex on his hard cock.
Her sex was already wet, and he penetrated easily.  Erica arched her back
so that her could  drive his shaft deep inside her, and she moaned with
pleasure.
He soon began to piston his thighs back and forth, and  Erica matched him
stroke for stroke.  She had not been made love to for a long time, and his
cock rammed into  her.  This was more than sex,  somehow.  He had whipped and
caned  her, had brought her to tears and the edge of her safeword.  Now he
was taking her sexually, between  her legs.  Everything else this  night had
been a prelude.
Erica came quickly, moaning softly as her nails dug into  his back.  She
held him tightly to  her, not wanting to believe that this was actually
happening.
They made love three times, before Erica was completely  exhausted.  He
kissed her, and she  returned his kiss.
"I love you," said Erica.
"Sometimes we love things and people that we can't have,"  said Keith, "
go to sleep, and you can sleep as late as you want."
By then, Erica was soundly asleep, with a smile on her  lips.
Erica awakened slowly, her body had needed the long rest  from the events
of the night before.  She felt her naked body under the sheet, and her
fingers flew to her  sex.
In a flash, she remembered everything.  Her request that Keith harshly use
her,  since her could not be her Master once her training was over.  The
whip and then the cane, followed by  his visit to her bedroom late in the
evening.
Erica sat up in bed, and got to her feet.  She walked into the bathroom,
and drew  one cold glass of water after another.  She was still wearing her
collar and cuffs, and Erica decided that she  looked like quite a sight in the
mirror.
Beth had left the keys on the dresser, so Erica unlocked  the steel and
leather from her neck, wrists, and ankles, then stepped under the  hot shower.
Erica had never felt so  exhausted or used in her entire life.
Keith was a skilled Master with the whip.  Though she had endured fifty
strokes,  there was no blood on the tub's floor as she showered.  Her body
ached, and she would feel the  effects of the cane whenever she sat down for
days, but she was not seriously  injured or hurt.
After her shower, she dried and perfumed herself, then  set her hair.
Finally, she replaced  the collar and bracelets, and put on a pair of modest
heels that Beth had left  for her.
She walked out of her bedroom, and through the house into  the Kitchen.
Erica glanced at the clock, and found that it was already  eleven AM.
"Good morning," greeted Beth.
"Morning."
"Did you have a nice rest?"
"Yes, thank you."
"How do you feel?"
"Fine."
"Hungry?"
"Starved."
"We'll be having lunch at one, but I'll make you coffee  and toast."
"That would be just fine, thank you."
What does one say to your Master's wife after he has made  love to you,
Erica thought silently to herself.  She ate in silence, and the juice,  toast,
and coffee quieted the rumblings in her stomach.
"Keith would like to see you in the study," said Beth  after she had
finished eating.
"Thank you," said Erica as she finished her last cup of  coffee.
Erica knocked on the door of Keith's study, which was  closed.
"Come," she heard from inside.
Erica opened the door, and Keith was seated behind his  desk, papers lined
up neatly in rows.
"Have a seat."
"Thank you," said Erica as she sat down, naked, in a  leather chair facing
him.
"How do you feel?"
"Fine, though my bottom will be tingling for days,  Sir."
"I have been thinking about your situation all day,  Erica.  A slave that
wants no Master  except the Trainer that she can't have.  You have been a
good student, Erica.  And you would make a superb slave for  any Master, but
you don't want that either."
Erica stayed silent, her legs open and her hands on her  knees.  She felt
the leather on her  bottom, and she knew that her skin had stuck to the
surface.
"Until now, I have trained slaves.  It appears that you are the first
Mistress that I have trained."
"Sir!" Erica exclaimed in shock, "Mistress?"
"Erica, when we begin a path in life, sometimes we finish  up on a totally
unexpected direction.  I read how you used that slave Jasmine months ago.  I
read it in your interviews, below the  surface.  That's why I wanted you to
 use another slave sometimes."
If Erica had been confused before, now she was totally  confused.  Slave to
Dominatrix?  In less than two years time?
"Do you want to be a Domme, Erica?  Will that settle your dilemma with
yourself?
"I don't know, Sir."
"There's always the stocks, I can lock you in them after  lunch.  Great
way to think, and they  did a lot of that in New England during Colonial times.
"
"No sir, that will be quite all right," Erica  answered.
"Your assignment today will be to write down all of your  Dominant
feelings, in between doing the housework.  Since the house is mostly clean anyway,
you'll have plenty of time.  And you  had better prepare yourself for
tonight."
"Sir?"
"I said that I was going to have a surprise for you, and  I will.  Beth and
I have a hospital  dinner to attend, a long and boring rubber chicken
dinner and plenty of speeches  as we try and raise community money for the
hospital."
"What am I going to do, Sir?" asked Erica.
"I have a good friend, Mistress Sharon.  She has a policy that once a year
she  likes to be used by me, so she doesn't forget what the whip feels like.
 I'm giving you the chance to use a  Dominatrix, Erica.  That will be  your
test to see if you can be a Domme yourself."
Erica swallowed, as she had a huge lump in her  throat.
"You're going to be graded on your posture, how you  handle her, your
language and bearing.  Also how you use her in the playroom, if you've learned
what I've taught  you.  If she pleases you, you can  take her to bed, or
chain her on the floor next to you.  Whatever you do, Sharon will give me a
complete report on your use of her.  That will determine your future, Erica.
Are you up to this?"
"Yes, Sir.  But I admit that I'm scared."
"A fork in the road is always scary, Erica.  But I think that your talents
lie  holding a whip's handle," said Keith.
"Thank you, Sir."
"You may go."
"Thank you, Sir," said Erica as she took her exit, rising  from the seat,
the leather sticking to her bare bottom.
Before she started the housework, she donned an apron,  and sat in the
kitchen, drinking a soda and wishing for a cigarette.  Had it been just 2 years
ago that she  had sought out Mistress Martine in the city?
Keith had chosen to wear a tuxedo, and Beth had chosen a  blue dress.  They
had both showered  and cleaned up, and Erica had helped them dress.  She
was no longer naked and collared,  but instead wore a blouse and skirt.
Just as Keith and Beth were leaving at 7 PM, another car  drove up.  Erica'
s stomach was in  her throat as she watched as the tall blonde exited the
car, and walked up to  the landing.
"Erica Riken?" asked the woman.
"You must be Sharon," replied Erica, "please  enter."
Erica escorted her inside, and closed the door behind her  guest.  The
woman was wearing a red  dress, and modest heels, just like she was going out
for a date.
"Have I missed Master Keith?" she asked.
"You just missed them," Erica answered.
"So I guess that I have to introduce myself.  I'm Mistress Sharon Kelly,"
she said,  extending her hand.
"Erica Riken."
"I'm your final exam," said Sharon calmly.
"You don't mind submitting yourself to a slave?" asked  Erica.
"No, because I started as a slave.  Keith trained me, I had a Master, then
I  became a Dominatrix."
"Would you like something to drink?" asked  Erica.
"A soda would be nice," replied Sharon.
Erica was really not sure what to make of Sharon.  All the time they spoke,
she had to  resist the urge to kneel in front of her.  They shared a soda
in the kitchen together, making small talk.
"I'd like to freshen up and prepare," said Sharon when  they finished.
"Sure, in the bedroom, then meet me in the study,"  answered Erica.
As she watched Sharon leave, Erica was more scared than  when she had
learned again to walk.  Or sought out Mistress Martine for her first experience
under the  lash.
When Sharon emerged from the bedroom she would be naked  and collared.
Erica rushed to the other bedroom to change into a  leather bra and skirt.
Her final exam had begun.
Erica looked at herself in bedroom mirror for the last  time.  She had
chosen to wear a pair  of elbow length opera gloves in black leather to
compliment her outfit, but now  wished that she had worn something else besides the
leather bra.  The marks on her stomach were showing,  and the choice of the
bra was just too revealing.  Still, it was too late now to  change.
She walked out of the bedroom into the study and seated  herself in Keith's
leather chair.  How often in the last few months that she had knelt naked
on the carpet  in front of his desk!  Now she has  the one in control.
Erica was startled by a knock on the closed door, and she  prepared
herself.
"Enter."
The door opened to reveal Sharon, and her beauty almost  took Erica's
breath away.  The woman  was naked, wearing only her collar and bracelets, and
shoes.  Clothed, she had been pretty, model  quality. Naked, she was the
loveliest woman that Erica had ever seen, outside of  a centerfold in a men's
magazine.
"Kneel, with your legs open and your hands on your  knees," ordered Erica
firmly.
Sharon quickly did as she was told, and she knelt on the  carpet in front
of the desk.
"What is your name, slave?" firmly asked  Erica.
"Sharon, Mistress."
"What is my name?"
"Mistress Erica.  Mistress Erica Riken," repeated Sharon.
"Touch yourself, your nipples, your breasts, play with  your pussy, but don'
t give yourself an orgasm," Erica ordered.
Erica watched, fascinated, as Sharon did as she was  ordered.  Her hands
began to feel  the outlines of her breasts, and circled her erect nipples.
With her right hand on her breast,  Sharon's left began to massage her slit.
Erica watched the woman closely, making certain that Sharon did not  insert
her fingers into her slit.  Sharon moaned, as she was close to giving
herself an orgasm.
"Stop, slave!"
Sharon ceased immediately, placing her hands on her  knees, bowing her head
in front of her Mistress.
Erica suddenly realized that every other time that she  had been allowed
the use of another woman, her Dom had been nearby, or  supervising her
actions.  But now  she was alone!  Sharon was in her  power, however briefly.
Memories returned to her, of Daniel abusing her, ramming  his cock up her
behind as she begged him not to.  Her anus sore for days afterward.  His
beating her without mercy until she  had bled, tears streaming from her eyes.
Erica picked up the riding crop that she had placed on  the desk, her hands
electric with power.  For the first time, she really felt down deep inside
what it mean to be a  Dominatrix.
`I swear,' she thought silently to herself, `I'll always  arrange a
safeword with a slave first, and never go beyond it.  I shall always respect a
slave's  dignity, and never humiliate them, in public or in private.  I shall
never hurt or cause harm.  I will never force a slave into doing  something
that they refuse to do.  I  will look out for a slave's welfare at all
times.  I shall be known as Mistress Erica  Riken."
"Mistress?" softly asked Sharon, "are you all  right?"
Erica glanced at the clock, and found that she had been  deep in thought
for several minutes.  She wondered just what Sharon had been thinking when
Erica had gone off  into her own space.
"Fine, Sharon, just fine.  What is your safeword?"
"Desire, Mistress Erica."
"What do you desire?"
"To serve my Mistress," answered Sharon.
"So you shall," said Erica as she rose from behind the  desk, then walked
over to the leather couch and seated herself, "over my  knee!"
Sharon scurried to place herself over Erica's knees, and  Erica was not
used to the weight of a naked woman resting on her  thighs.
"To begin, I am going to give you a light  spanking."
"Yes, Mistress."
"You will count each one," ordered Erica.
"Yes, Mistress Erica."
Thwack!
"One!"
Thwack!
"Two."
Thwack!
Erica watched as each stroke of her hand left a red mark  on Sharon's
bottom, how she jumped slightly with each impact.  Up close, Sharon wore an
alluring  perfume that only served to entice the novice Domme.  Erica marveled at
Sharon's silky smooth  skin, and she instantly desired her.  She decided
that Sharon would not spend the night chained on the floor  next to Erica's
bed, but would instead be serving her Mistress  within.
"Ten!"
Erica ceased spanking, leaving Sharon panting from the  session.  Sharon's
bottom was  slightly red, the skin warm to the touch.  Erica had decided
that a mild spanking would just serve as a warm-up for  the nights other
activities.  She  rubbed Sharon's warmed ass cheeks, then opened them to reveal
the anal bud  within.  Reaching between Sharon's  legs, she felt upwards to
Sharon's wet slit.
"Already wet, slave?" Erica demanded.
"Yes, Mistress."
"Kneel on the floor," Erica ordered.
"Yes, Mistress," Sharon quickly did as she was  told.
Erica rose from the couch, and went to the desk drawer  where she knew that
Keith kept all of his toys.  She opened it, and found just what she  wanted
inside.
She withdrew a leash, blindfold, and ballgag, plus a  small metal link.
Erica held that in her hand, feeling the stainless steel  in her fingers.
"Hands behind your back."
"Yes, Mistress."
Erica quickly walked over, and locked Sharon's hands  behind her back.  She
noted that the  woman held herself proudly in her slavery.
"Prepare to be made helpless."
"Yes, Mistress."
Erica first locked the collar around Sharon's neck,  brushing her long hair
out of the way, then closing the collar with a satisfying  click.  Then she
held the red  ballgag by the straps, and Sharon did not have to be told to
open her mouth  wide.  Erica buckled the ballgag  snugly, but not tight so
that Sharon would be uncomfortable.  She watched as Sharon's nostrils flared
with each breath that she took.  Finally, Erica placed the fur-lined
blindfold over Sharon's eyes, than  locked the leash onto her collar.  The metal
chain fell between her breasts.  Sharon was now totally helpless, and at
Erica's mercy.
How often Erica had been in this position, first  beginning with Mistress
Martine, then finally ending with Keith.  Now she was the Domme, with all of
the  responsibility that it entailed.
Erica grasped Sharon by her bound arms, and pulled the  naked slave to her
feet.  Sharon  grunted from inside her gag.
"Stand up, slave," ordered Erica, "we're now going to the  playroom."
Erica pulled her captive along behind her, guiding her so  the she didn't
trip against any of the furniture.  She unlocked the cellar door, and helped
Sharon down each step.  Finally, she  opened the door to the playroom
itself, and pulled Sharon along behind  her.
She guided Sharon over to the stocks, and placed her  ankles in the half
circles of the wood, then closed and locked the second  bar.  Then she
unlocked the leash,  and the link holding Sharon's wrists together.  Sharon did not
resist when Erica placed  her neck and wrists in the half circles, then
closed and locked the yoke.  Sharon was now bent over, and  helpless.
"Mmmmmmph!" cried Sharon when Erica probed her sex,  squirming within her
wooden prison.
"Silence!" ordered Erica, as she swatted Sharon's bottom  a few times, "
else I will not remove your gag and blindfold!"
Sharon ceased her squirming, and stayed  silent.
"Better," commented Erica.
True to her word, Erica soon removed the gag and  blindfold.  Sharon
blinked several  times as her vision was restored to her.
"Thank you, Mistress."
"You're welcome," replied Erica, "I think that we shall  start with a
flogger."
>From the cabinet, Erica selected a deerskin flogger.  It was made of plenty
of soft strands,  and unless used very harshly, was actually quite gentle
form of discipline.  Unlike a leather cat, especially one  with each strand
knotted at the end.
"Kiss the flogger, slave."
"Yes, Mistress."
Erica began by applying the flogger softly, swinging each  stroke for
maximum effect.  The  multitude of stands struck onto Sharon's flesh, with a
slapping sound.  Sharon jerked with each impact in her  leather prison, held
tightly inside the stocks.
"Aaaaaah!" cried Sharon.
Erica paused and rubbed her hands over Sharon's heated  flesh, massaging
and calming the girl under her control.  Just for effect, she pinched Sharon's
 nipples, making her moan.
Sharon's face was flushed and red as Erica began again,  striking her
bottom, thighs, and between her legs.  After a series of strokes, she would
pause to run her hands over her slave's body, her attentions helping to drive
Sharon into an even greater sensual frenzy.
"Kiss the flogger, slave!"
Sharon did as she was ordered, in silence, her red lips  leaving some
lipstick on the leather bindings.  She kissed the instrument that had been  used
to create physical torment like the lips of a lover.
"Thank you, Mistress for using me," said  Sharon.
"Your use has not yet begun," answered Erica.
Returning the flogger to it's regular place, Erica  decided that it was
time to use the front of Sharon's body.  She unlocked Sharon from she stocks,
and  pulled her over to the X frame.  Sharon mounted the X frame when
ordered, and Erica restrained her by  tightening the straps.  Soon, Sharon  was
tightly held against the wood, her ass against the wall.  Also, Erica had
locked her bracelets to  the frame as well.
Erica retrieved the riding crop, which she held in her  gloved hands.  She
flexed it for  effect in front of Sharon, who did not look directly at
Erica, but did look at  the crop itself.
The one that she had chosen had a folded leather pad at  the tip, and that
would be what Erica used to strike Sharon's body with.  It would leave a
nice red mark behind,  and would sing her flesh.
But first Erica massaged Sharon's sex with her right  hand, then inserted
two fingers into her sex.  Sharon jerked within her bonds, and  Erica
withdrew and the leather of her gloves was wet with Sharon's  juices.
"Taste yourself, slut."
Erica forced her fingers into Sharon's mouth, and she  sucked at the
leather.  After a few  seconds, they were clean of her juices.
"Thank you, Mistress."
"Kiss the crop," ordered Erica.
"Yes, Mistress."
Sharon kissed the handle of the crop when it was offered  to her, and Erica
watched as Sharon tried to anticipate what her Mistress would  do next.
Instead of just starting to beat her with the crop, Erica  instead pinched
both of Sharon's nipples at the same time.  Sharon squealed with both pain
and  pleasure at the same time.
"Silence!"
Then Erica began to use the crop, slapping the leather  pad against Sharon'
s exposed flesh.  She began, not on her breasts, but on her underarms
instead.  Sharon had evidently just shaved her  armpits, as the skin was smooth
and there was no trace of hair.
Next, she used the crop on Sharon's breasts, making her  squirm on the X
frame.  Erica made  certain not to strike the same area twice in a row, and to
strike hard enough to  gently redden the skin.  Erica  wanted her charge to
slowly heat up, to be released later.  Much later.
But when Erica began to slap the pad between Sharon's  thighs and sometimes
onto her sex did the slave become truly animated, moaning  in response each
time that the tip struck her flesh.
"Ooooh!" cried Sharon, "ooooh!"
"Moan all you want slave, there will be no respite for  you yet," stated
Erica.
Erica used the crop repeatedly, until the front of  Sharon's body was quite
red.  The  leather had left a mark behind with each impact, and when Erica
felt Sharon's  flesh, she found it warm to the touch.
"How do you feel slave?" demanded Erica.
"Fine, Mistress," replied Sharon.
"Kiss the crop."
Sharon did as she had been told.  Erica knew by then that her slave was
quite ready for her final use in the playroom, followed by her use in the
bedroom.
"It is now time for the cat," calmly explained Erica, "as  you hang from
the ceiling, your legs kept open."
Erica removed Sharon from the X frame, wishing that she  had an assistant
to help her.  If  she should ever have a house with a playroom, she resolved
that she would have a  Maid.  A Maid clad in black Latex,  obeying her every
order, in the Dungeon and the bedroom.
She pulled Sharon over to the ceiling chain, and locked  the D rings on
Sharon's cuffs to the last link.  Erica had readied a spreader bar in  advance,
and locked that to Sharon's ankle cuffs.  She activated the motor from the
control, and Sharon's body was pulled taut, and she could barely reach the
floor  with the toes of her shoes.
"You look divine, with your ribs showing," said Erica as  she lightly
tickled Sharon's flesh, making her laugh.
Before her last use in the playroom, she wanted Sharon relaxed.  For the
next use might not be so  pleasant after all.
Once Sharon had been calmed down, Erica removed the  rubber flogger from
the cabinet.  The strands were made of rubber, and would mark easily.  They
would sting, and make Sharon moan with pain when  applied.
"Did you think that I would whip you?" asked  Erica.
"Yes, Mistress."
"I am a bit more creative than that, slave.  You shall taste the rubber
flogger, next  time I shall use the lash instead," said Erica.
`If I ever get to use you again,' Erica thought to  herself, `more than
likely it will be Sharon who puts me under her  lash.'
"Thank you, Mistress," said Sharon.
"Kiss the flogger."
Sharon did as she was told, and soon Erica  began to punish her with it.
The  strands were heavy, and each one could mark.  Instead, Erica slapped
Sharon's body with the  flogger, so that the strands did not always mark.
Erica wanted to show that she could  control whether or not she could mark,
demonstrating her  control.
"Oooooooh!  Oooooh!" cried Sharon as the flogger was applied to  her.
"Do you submit to me, slave?"
"Yes, Mistress, yes!"
"Kiss the cat, I shall now use you further."
Erica allowed Sharon to  kiss the cat, then ran her fingertips over Sharon'
s flesh.  The woman was burning up with excitement  and passion.  Erica then
replaced  the cat in the cabinet, and released Sharon, who fell into her
arms.
She helped Sharon to a bench, and held and soothed the  slave in her arms.
Then she took  her by the hand, and walked her upstairs to her bedroom.
She locked Sharon's collar to a chain  the other end of which was locked
around the bedpost, which would limit her  freedom of movement.
Erica then stripped until she was nude, and she noticed  that the aroma of
leather had clung to her like a perfume.  She lay down upon the bed, and
make  certain that a crop and dildo were on the night table next to the  bed.
"Satisfy your Mistress, Slave," Erica ordered, "else you  will be
punished.
When she felt Sharon's tongue and lips on her clit, Erica had  no doubt
that her charge was very experienced in the arts of lovemaking as one
explosive climax after another rocked her body.
Sharon then sucked on  Erica's nipples, and then Erica wrapped her arms
around Sharon as they rolled on  the bed together.  Erica then  grabbed hold of
the dildo, and inserted in between Sharon's legs.  Sharon opened her legs
to accommodate the  phallus inside her.
Erica did not know, or care, when they stopped.  First Sharon drifted off
into an exhausted sleep, and  Erica followed.  Her body was sticky  with her
sweat and Sharon's juices, and she had never felt so  wonderful in all her
life.
The next morning, Erica showered and was allowed to do  her toilet.  Then
Beth cuffed her  hands behind her back, locked a collar around her neck, then
a ballgag and  blindfold.  Erica was made to kneel  for what seemed like
hours, her stomach grumbling from hunger.
`At least Beth didn't put a plug up my ass,' thought  Erica, `I never
have to wait for grades like this in Harvard.'
Finally, she was made to rise, and she was walked into  what she presumed
was Keith's study.  Then she was sat in a chair, and her blindfold and gag
were  removed.
Keith was dressed in a casual shirt and jeans, and in the  chair next to
her was Sharon.  She was dressed in a white cotton blouse and denim skirt.
"Good morning, Erica."
"Good morning, Sir," Erica replied to her  Master.
"Sharon and I have been discussing your use or her.  Would you like to hear
the  results?"
"Very much, Sir!"
Erica was so intent on Keith's words that she didn't see  Sharon lean
over, enfold her in her arms, and kiss her on the cheek.
"You pass, Erica," said Sharon with a smile on her face.
"I passed?"
"Yes, darling," answered Sharon, "you do.  Keith will want to go over how
you used  me, which was quite nice.  But you  passed."
Erica broke out into tears, something that she had not  done since she'd
passed that class in Economics.  Sharon released her wrists, and passed her a
box of tissues.
"Thank you, Master Keith," sobbed Erica.
"You're welcome, Erica.  You've earned it.  Breakfast?"
"I'm starved," Erica replied.
When the four of them sat down to breakfast, Erica was  allowed to wear a
short robe.  She  had graduated from nakedness to clothes, and she helped
Beth prepare and  serve.  They cooked cheese omelets,  toast, and home fries,
and served Keith and Sharon first, before they sat down.  Erica greedily tore
into her food, as  she was famished.
After the meal and washing up was done, Sharon packed her bags and  made
ready to leave.  Erica was  divested of her collar and bracelets, and helped
Sharon carry her things outside.
"Erica?" asked Sharon.
"Yes, Mistress."
"One day you must come up and visit me, I'm sure that I  can paddle that
bottom of yours to a lovely shade of red."
"I'd love to," said Erica in response.
"You were very good, darling.  Very good indeed.  Be a good Dominatrix,
please?"
"I will," said Erica, remembering the silent conversation  that she had
had with herself, "I swear."
Afterwards, Keith and Beth provided her with a detailed  examination of how
she had performed.  The only real criticism was that she had held herself a
bit too stiffly,  like a robot.  Still, Sharon had said that she  was a
skilled Domme, and had lots of promise.
"Looks like I've trained my first Dominatrix," said Keith  as Erica
prepared to leave.
"Yes, Master."
"I'm not your Master any more," answered Keith, "we'll  have a public
ceremony for you in a club in Manhattan, or a leather bar.  Then you'll be on
your way."
"Thank you.........Keith," Erica answered.
"Don't disappoint me, Erica."
"I won't, ever."
"I know you won't, Mistress Erica," said Keith as he  reached over and
kissed her, a kiss that she returned.
When Erica drove away, she realized that her life had  changed again.
Slave to Dominatrix.

Part Three: Triumph and  Tragedy - September 1983
It happened when Erica had gone to the supermarket in  Darien.  She had
forgotten to go shopping, so  after work and dinner, she had to get back in the
car and go food shopping,  since she had nothing in the apartment.
The days of summer were over, and night came earlier as  the days
shortened.  When she had  finished checking out, the sky was dark with the oncoming
night.
She loaded her bags into the trunk of her Chevrolet Nova,  then closed the
lid, only to find Daniel standing on the driver's side of the  car.
"Good evening, Erica," said Daniel, softly.
"Go away, please!" Erica answered swiftly.
"Is that any way to greet your Master?"
"You're not my Master any more, you gave me to  Keith."
"Only because you were such a disobedient slut that  night.  If I hadn't
taken you up the  ass, you'd still be mine now."
"I'm a Domme now, so go away, Daniel!"
"Yes, I heard about next weeks little party for you in  Manhattan, at  that
little gay leather bar.  What's  wrong, Keith's little pet can't have her
ceremony in a proper  Dungeon?"
"It's my ceremony, so don't spoil it!" cried Erica, as  she withdrew the
keys from her purse.
"I have no intention of spoiling it.  What they don't know is that you're
really just a fake, just a true slave at heart.  Who was never happier when
I was using  you."
"You mean beating me to a pulp, abusing me, and keeping  me ignorant, don'
t you?" Erica demanded.
"You seemed pretty happy at the time, slave."
"Go away," said Erica as she slid the key in the  door.
"You'll be back on your knees, begging me in six months,"  Daniel sneered.
"You should live so long," Erica answered as she opened  the door, jumped
in the car, started the engine and drove off.
She was half-afraid that he would try to do something  physical to her
outside, but he didn't.  He was too smart for that, which was good for her.


Keith had rented the leather bar for a closed party.  All of his friends
were there, Dom(mes)  and their subs, plus a couple of friends that Erica had
managed to make in the  scene.
Keith was dressed in a leather outfit, and Beth was  wearing a black dress
with a collar around her neck.  Erica had decided on a vinyl Dominatrix
dress, pantyhose, and sensible heels.
She was kneeling on a raised platform, before Keith, who  held a crop in
his hands.
"Do you, Erica Riken, understand the position that you  are assuming?"
"Yes, Master."
"That you shall be responsible for the well being of a  slave at all times?"

"Yes, Master."
"That you shall never place your desires over the safety  of another?"
"Yes, Master."
"That you must always remember that absolute power  corrupts?"
"Yes, Master."
"Based on my experience as a Trainer, and a Dom, I  pronounce Erica Riken
fit to be a Dominatrix.  Arise Erica," Keith ordered.
Keith handed Erica a riding crop, with a leather pad on  the end.  She
flexed it in her  arms.
"Thank you, Master Keith," Erica answered, tears at the  corners of her
eyes.
"Welcome, Mistress Erica," said Keith as he kissed her on  the cheeks.
"Thank you," she whispered in his ears.
"I know you won't disappoint me," he replied.
"Never."
The rest of the party that night was composed of small  demonstrations.
Erica did not have  any slaves of her own yet, so she was allowed the use of
others.
It was the best party ever, Erica thought as she made the  long drive back
to Darien, even better than the one when she had  graduated Harvard.  But
that had  been in another life.
Or so she had thought that night.

Erica was seated at her desk when she saw something that  chilled her to
the bone.  Her  mother's lawyer, Robert Alexander, had entered her firm's
offices!
He spoke to her boss Jason, who called her over to his  office.
"Erica, this is Robert Alexander, a lawyer.  He would like to speak to you
in  private.  Use my office," said  Jason, as he left the two of them alone
then closed the door behind  him.
Robert sat down behind Jason's desk, and pulled a picture  of Erica from
his briefcase.  Erica  recognized it as the one she had given Eve when she had
recovered from her  surgery.
"What's this all about?" asked Erica.
"Are you Erica Riken?"
"Yes."
"Eve Peters died this morning, two hours ago of a sudden  massive heart
attack."
"No!" cried Erica as she placed her head in her  hands.
"You have been named as beneficiary of the estate,"  Robert said calmly.
Erica cried, for last week she had skipped her weekly  meeting with her
mother to instead use a woman for the first time.  Eve had given no hint in her
voice just  how sick she was, and now Erica was paying the price.
Robert rose from the desk and whispered in Erica's ear,  "Eve told me who
you really are, Alana, why you gave up your life to become  Erica Riken.  You
're not the first  person in Greenwich Society to fall off the wagon, you
know."
Eve's funeral had been well attended, and everyone from  Greenwich had
attended.  Erica had bought a black  dress, and had sat in the back, alone.
Everyone said that it was such a tragedy that Alana had  disappeared,
leaving Eve alone in her last years.
Erica had done everything possible to cease being Alana  Peters, but in the
end, she had instead come full circle.  Robert Alexander was working
overtime to  keep her name out of the papers, and the publicity down to a minimum.
She would work at her job for a few more days, then quit  and move into the
mansion.  Erica  would inherit a vast estate, of money, stocks, and real
estate.
In her mind, plans circled like exciting dreams.  The vast basement, which
now housed a  pool table, bar, and entertainment center.
Erica imagined a vast Dungeon complex, like the one that  Mistress Martine
had at the House of Domination in NYC.  There was room for two Dungeons, a
cell,  and plenty of space for other things down there.