Continues from chapter five
Chapter Six: 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 through 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, 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 be 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 fiancé. 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 as 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, she 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 alright. 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 if 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 had 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 he 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 he 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 in 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 the 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 meant 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, then 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 a 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 its regular place, Erica decided that it was time to use the front of Sharon's body. She unlocked Sharon from the 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 made 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 it 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 of 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.
Continues in chapter seven