“Hands behind your head, Crystal,” Mistress Morgan Blair ordered.
I’m standing totally naked in front of my Mistress in her library. The sun is just coming up in the Library windows. Today will be the most important day in my new career as a submissive.
I do as I am told, and place my hands behind my head. I wait for her next orders.
“Have you showered and dried your hair, Crystal?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Good, because if you cannot obey simple commands then I cannot trust you to obey more complex ones. Like when I give you orders on how to prepare and treat my other submissive women.”
“Yes, Mistress,”
“That’s so we understand each other. Serving a Mistress is a rare honor, and you have proved yourself so far to be a willing submissive. But now I need an assistant, since Betsy has had to leave me for family problems. I hope that you understand the importance of the position that you are about to occupy,” explained Mistress Morgan.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Good.”
Mistress Morgan rose from the leather chair behind her desk and got to her feet. She is 35 years old; a Brunette with Black eyes; 5’ 6” inches tall; about 125 lbs.
She is wearing a t-shirt with a white bra underneath, blue denim shorts, and sneakers. Her legs are sheer and silky smooth. I should know, since it is my job to shave her legs so that she can be beautiful and feminine.
In contrast, I am 29 years old and have Blonde hair and Blue Eyes, I’m 5’ 3” and weigh 110 lbs.
Three years ago, I became interested in submission after I discovered it online. I began by dressing up and going to clubs and parties. I was lucky to have met some good people who steered me in the right direction. I discovered that I enjoyed being bound and punished. I craved being bound and gagged; and enjoyed the taste of the lash. Then I was referred to Mistress Morgan two years ago; and I have been trained by her ever since. Pleasure and pain are now my weekend companions; and while I am attracted to both men and women I discovered that I wanted to serve a woman.
“Hands down at your waist, and keep your legs apart,” Mistress Morgan orders when she stands directly in front of me.
“Yes, Mistress,” I answer quickly.
She reaches out with her left hand and feels my dry Blonde hair. I know that if I had not washed and dried my hair properly this morning, I would get an immediate punishment.
“I see that you can obey my orders, Crystal.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
With both of her hands she then cups my breasts, and pinches my already erect nipples. When I am in her house, I am in a constant state of arousal. It doesn’t matter if I am to be used sexually or disciplined.
“You have a beautiful body, Crystal. Has anyone ever told you that you were made for the whip?” Mistress Morgan asks.
“No, Mistress,” I answer.
I think back to all of the men I have ever slept with; and none of them had ever suggested that I be whipped. It was only when I entered the scene that I discovered my true nature; which is that I wanted both pleasure and pain.
“Pity, I believe that there are a lot of women who would benefit from being disciplined. It would put some order in their lives; and they would be happier.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Then her left hand traced it’s way down my belly, past the belly button to my sex. Her index and middle fingers were thrust into my already wet passage; making me moan with pleasure.
“Randy little minx, aren’t you?” asked Mistress Morgan.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Were you always such a slut before you came to me?”
“No, Mistress. But you helped me discover my true nature,” I answered.
“Good.”
Mistress Morgan then withdrew her fingers and placed them in her mouth, sucking at my female juices. I expected that she would make me clean them, but she instead wanted to taste my arousal for herself.
“Turn around,” she orders.
I do as I am told, and I feel her fingers on my shoulder blades.
“Raise your arms slightly.”
Her hands probe the sensitive skin of my underarms, and I know that I will probably feel the bite of the whip there later today.
Then her hands trace the small of my back down to my bottom, and I know what is coming next.
“Bend over and open your bottom for inspection.”
Mistress Morgan removes a single rubber glove from her right pocket and places it on her right hand. I do as I am told, and expose my bottom hole to her.
Again her index and middle finger enter my naked body, this time my bottom hole is the subject of her inspection. I relax my anal sphincter to allow her easy access to my nether regions, where no man has ever dared use me. It wasn’t until I began seeing Mistress Morgan that she placed a butt plug in my bottom, and would wear a dildo harness and take my virgin bottom. I remain silent through the entire procedure.
“What a good girl you’ve become,” commented Mistress Morgan, “what do you enjoy more, my whip or my prick?”
“Both, Mistress,” I quickly answer, for it is the truth.
Every weekend for the past two years I have been systematically trained by Mistress Morgan; and I now crave pleasure and pain. Monday mornings I stand naked in front of my full length bathroom mirror and admire the stripes and marks that Mistress Morgan has left behind. Every week, I find myself wanting more and harsher punishments. I want to scream my submission as I am whipped to a sexual frenzy.
Her two fingers probe my bottom hole, without any lubrication of any kind. This is deliberate, or course. She could have inserted her gloved fingers into my sopping wet pussy, inflaming me even more. But instead I feel the rubber clad fingers deep within my bottom hole, the same place where I am made to wear a butt plug to widen access to my nether regions.
“What a good girl you are,” Mistress Morgan compliments me.
“Thank you, Mistress.”
Her fingers are removed from my bottom, and she commands me again to stand straight an in front of her. Mistress Morgan removes the glove and places it in a wastebasket next to her desk; which I know that I will be emptying later when I do my household chores.
“Your latex Maid’s outfit in on the chair behind you, and you may now get dressed. However, this time there will be some additions to your wardrobe,” Mistress Morgan orders, “you may proceed.”
Mistress Morgan then walks behind her desk and seats herself; naked I walk over to the chair, which has been covered by a black latex sheet. I uncover the chair, which I have sat in many times, both naked, clothed, and wearing fetish apparel. Today I already know that I will be spending another day in black latex once more.
I pick up black latex panties with a dildo inside, and gasp in astonishment.
“Since I had you in the Chastity Belt last weekend I thought that you might appreciate a little change of pace. The rubber cock will keep you in a constant state of arousal, Crystal. Just be sure and use the condom I’ve provided to make cleaning up easier,” ordered Mistress Morgan.
“Yes, Mistress.”
I suppose that any other woman would feel immense shame at being forced to wear such a garment. But this is nothing new for me. I find the foil packet on the chair, open and then unroll the condom onto the shaft. Then I sit down on the chair next to the first, step into the panties, stand up and gently pull the latex garment up my legs, past my knees, and position the cock into my sex. Then I tug the panties over my waist, and finally the garment is properly on my body. I walk a few steps, and I can feel the invader inside my sex. It will be sheer erotic agony to wear this rubber cock all day long.
“How do you feel, Crystal?” Mistress Morgan asks with a slightly impish grin on her face.
“Aroused, Mistress.”
“Good, you may continue,” she orders.
In a matter of minutes, I am transformed into a Rubber Maid. First I placed a rubber garter belt around my waist, which was quickly followed by a pair of rubber stockings. To get these on my legs, I use rubber lubricant, since talcum powder has been found to have nasty side effects.
I hook a rubber bra over my breasts, and I carefully position my erect nipples through the holes in the center of the breast cups. This way my Mistress will have easy access to them, should she want to use them in some way. I have felt the clamps on them many times.
Next comes my Latex uniform, and Mistress Morgan walks over and help to zip me into my uniform. I was afraid that I would be laced into a corset for the day, but mercifully I will not have to endure that as well. I then place my feet into a pair of matching black three inch high heels, and lock a strap around my ankles with a small keyed lock. I won’t be taking off these heels for the rest of the day. Lastly comes a pair of full length latex gloves, a white apron, and a headpiece.
I look at myself in the Library mirror, admiring myself. I cannot believe the change from naked woman to Latex Maid. Strangely, I feel empowered by the transformation that I have undergone.
“Enjoying yourself?” asks Mistress Morgan.
“Yes Mistress, very much,” I reply.
What woman doesn’t want to play dress up? When we’re bored we often go out shopping to try on new clothes we have no intention of buying, just for the experience of seeing ourselves in something new that we may not need or can’t possibly afford.
“Just a couple more things and your ensemble will be complete, darling,” Mistress Morgan tells me with a hint of malice in her voice.
I know what is coming, and stand beside her by the desk. She produces a collar that is locked around my neck; along with matching wrist and ankle bracelets. Mistress Morgan then produces a short length of chain that she attaches with small keyed locks to protruding “D” rings from the leather. First my wrists are confined, then my ankles. Not only and I bound in latex, but my limbs are bound as well. I now have all of twelve inches of freedom of my bound limbs.
“There now, your outfit is complete,” concludes Mistress Morgan, “how do you feel?”
“Fabulous, Mistress, thank you,” I say to her.
“Excellent. Here is a list of the day's chores. Call me if you have a problem removing the panties if you have to go to the bathroom; and I will gladly assist. You know you will be punished if you rip the latex, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress,” I quickly reply.
“Good. Now you may attend to your chores, Crystal.”
“Thank you, Mistress Morgan.”
***
I curtsy, and leave my Mistress to her affairs. I will have a busy day ahead, and if my household chores are not completed, I know I shall feel the lash. But then again, I desire the whip, and whatever punishments my Mistress will mete out to me.
As I attend to the chores on the list, I look at myself in the first mirror that I see. I am now a black latex Maid, in chains.
But here is the most interesting fact about me: I’m rich.
I come from a wealthy family in Boston, complete with servants. I even had a personal Maid, at least until I went off to college in New York City.
I have a large trust fund that provides me with interest income alone so that I don’t have to work. It was just a few years ago that I was a Debutante at a Cotillion Ball where I was expected to meet a rich man from a prominent family, marry, produce kids and continue the practice of inherited wealth.
With every step I take and every movement that I now make, I am reminded that I am now in inescapable bondage. The latex cock buried inside my pussy gives me one orgasm after another; and if that isn’t enough the tight confinement of the black latex also has me on edge. Finally the heels and chains upon my wrists and ankles are an erotic turn on as well.
Mistress Morgan holds the keys to my bondage, and paradoxically I don’t want to be released. Instead, my bondage has freed me from the suffocating circumstances of my birth.
In chains and latex, I have never felt so free in my life.
***
My household duties are those of any Maid; save for the fact that I am dressed in latex and chains. I have to change the linens, vacuum the floors (which I am sometimes bound and have to sleep the night on), do laundry, dust, and cook for Mistress Morgan.
One Halloween, when I was going to a party back in College, I bought a Maid’s uniform that I found in a nearby thrift store. It was brand new and had never been worn, in fact it still had the price tag attached. I had never owned anything like it before, and after the party I didn’t throw it away. Instead, whenever I had to clean my apartment I wore it, imagining that I was actually a Maid. Sometimes, I would go out in my Maid’s uniform, and I discovered that I could disappear into the city crowds. After all, I was just a Maid. I could only imagine how my parents would react if they knew that their upper class daughter was fantasizing about being a Maid.
I enjoyed wearing the black satin uniform, complete with matching stockings and garter belt. Whoever had donated it had bought the complete outfit, so I had a white apron and headpiece as well. I already had a pair of four inch black leather high heels; so I looked and played the part of a Maid quite well.
All I needed was a Mistress to command me. I did not go into fetish shops at first, but started simply by buying a leather dog collar in a pet store. I got wet between my legs simply by wearing the collar around my neck, both in private and out in public.
Afterwards, I ventured into a fetish shop and bought a simple rubber ball gag. I would masturbate with it in my mouth, imagining that I was being punished by a Mistress. I followed that with a penis gag; and a harness to hold a dildo in my wet sex.
But what I really craved was a Mistress who would place me in bondage and punish me. I wanted to scream under the lash and have my naked body marked by the whip.
Then I was introduced to Mistress Morgan who has fulfilled my desires for physical chastisement. The harsher the discipline, the more I want it.
As I do my chores (which I know will be done by other submissives that I will command when I am her assistant) I occasionally touch my rubber clad breasts and reach under my uniform and the rubber panties which hold the dildo deep in my sex.
I glance at myself in the mirror, seeing the latex woman that I have now become. How many people in life can say that they have fulfilled their life’s ambitions?
By rights, I should have wanted a successful career and husband, based on my background and social class. Complete with a wedding announcement in the Times.
Instead, I have chosen submission and the whip.
***
“Enjoying yourself?” asks Mistress Morgan. I was so deep in thought, I had not heard her approach.
“Yes, Mistress, thank you.”
She stands in front of me, and her right hand reaches beneath my skirt and finds the rubber panties. Next she presses on them, moving the rubber shaft inside my sex, making me moan with pleasure.
“What a slut you are,” comments Mistress Morgan.
“Thank you, Mistress.”
“Something unexpected has come up. My friend Mistress Joyce Anderson has to leave on a short business trip; just a couple of days. So she has asked me to look after her submissive Vanessa Ross. As of this moment you have now been promoted to my assistant. Yes, I did want to give you a severe session and then take you to bed afterwards. But she’s a dear friend who has done me many favors over the years; and I couldn’t refuse her. You have disciplined other submissives before under my direction; and you’re ready. Have you completed all of your chores?”
“Yes Mistress, everything has been completed.”
“Excellent. Now that you’re going to hold the whip instead of being on the business end, you have to dress for the occasion. Come up to your bedroom and I’ll remove your chains and get you out of your Maid’s uniform so that you can get cleaned up and into the PVC Dominatrix dress that I bought for you as a gift for your promotion.”
“Thank you, Mistress, I…..I don’t know what to say,” I reply, my voice choked up with tears.
“No need to cry Crystal. It’s not like I’m giving you a severe session with the whip, after all. You’ve earned your promotion to my assistant; and I’ll still keep you in latex and chains. Except that from now on, you’ll be assisting me in training new submissives,” explained Mistress Morgan.
“Thank you, Mistress Morgan.”
“Tonight, Crystal, you have been granted a very special gift. You shall be dominating another submissive; and then as is proper you shall have the opportunity to take her to your bed. Vanessa will be yours, to punish and to give you pleasure. How do you feel?”
“Excited, Mistress Morgan. Thank you,” I tell her again.
I am suddenly jealous of the fact that another submissive will be joining us. Two’s company and three’s a crowd. Isn’t that the way the saying goes?
Never having met either of them, so I have no idea who my new companion Vanessa will be; how she has been trained, or how she will behave. But now that I have been promoted I shall be the one holding the riding crop. If she misbehaves or not, she will still be punished. Just like I am on a regular basis.
***
It is early evening, after dinner which I shared with my Mistress in the kitchen. We were in the library with our guests.
Mistress Morgan was in a black latex bra and skirt and seated behind her desk. I was seated on her right; wearing my new PVC Dominatrix Dress, sheer black stockings, and a pair of matching three inch high heels. It seems strange not to be in my latex Maid’s uniform.
After questioning me in the playroom, we went up to my bedroom and Mistress Morgan released me from my chains and collar. Then she helped me out of my Black Latex Maid’s uniform; and it’s hard to describe what it feels like when my second skin of latex that both confined and excited me was removed. The uniform was carefully hung up on a padded hanger, and Mistress Morgan instructed me to take a hot steaming shower to reinvigorate myself.
After I had showered and cleaned myself I was amazed that Mistress Morgan had washed and cleaned my Latex Maid’s uniform.
“But Mistress,” I told her, “that is my job.”
“I cleaned my uniform and the fetish garments of my Mistress Sally when I was a submissive, Crystal. Besides, today is a special day. I’m making you my assistant for your two years of loyal service. Not only are you a good girl in bed and under the lash yourself; but you have also shown talent when I let you use others as well.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
“Crystal, you’ve earned it.”
“But Mistress, what I really want is to be punished by you, and the harsher the better,” I told her.
“Yes, I know that, Crystal. Just because you’re going to be my assistant doesn’t mean that I’m going to be sparing the rod. Since you’ll be with me now 24/7 I fully intend to use you for my pleasure any time and any way that I want. Does that excite you?” asked Mistress Morgan.
“Yes, Mistress, thank you.”
“You’re not going to be neglected, if that’s what you’re afraid of, Crystal. Just remember, you belong to me, and I fully intend to continue using that luscious, naked body of yours in any way I want.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
“Good, now I want you to dress in mundane clothing, we’ll eat and then you can take a rest. We have a big night tonight; it’s your coming out party.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
“You’re welcome, darling.”
***
I have learned that Mistress Joyce Anderson is 32 years old, stands 5’ 5” and has Black Hair and eyes; and weighs 120 lbs. She is a beautiful woman indeed, with a luscious figure and I would love to worship her naked body. After a good session, of course.
Her submissive is a girl named Vanessa Ross, who is 27 years old, a brunette with green eyes, height 5’ 3” and weighs 115 lbs. She is wearing nothing except for a collar and a pair of high heels, and from the glimpses of her naked body, she has already been subject to harsh discipline in the past, but no recent marks.
Vanessa is kneeling naked on the carpet, with her legs wide open to expose her sex and her head bowed. She will be silent unless directly spoken to: anything else will be a breach of etiquette. Which will be severely punished, with a whip and many strokes administered so that Vanessa will know her place. Given what I have already seen on her naked body she is no stranger to both the whip and harsh discipline.
As I am.
“Mistress Morgan, you are certainly a lucky woman. Why I remember when you started training Crystal, and now you’re promoting her to your assistant,” Mistress Joyce observed.
“Thank you, Mistress Joyce. She has more than proven herself to be loyal and submissive. Crystal has shown that she has what it takes to be my assistant. Perhaps she’ll be a Mistress before long, and then I’ll have to start searching again for a new girl,” Mistress Morgan replied.
I carefully remained silent, since this was a conversation between two Dommes. I may have been the subject of the conversation and they may have been praising me to the sky; but I was still owned by Mistress Morgan. A submissive has to tread carefully.
“I thank you for agreeing to take care of Vanessa here for me. Truth of the matter is, she has been a little petulant lately, and I haven’t had the time to properly whip it out of her. Perhaps you could take care of that for me?”
“Certainly, Mistress Joyce. It will be good training for Crystal here to properly use the whip on Vanessa. Isn’t that right, Crystal?”
“Yes, Mistress Morgan,” I quickly reply.
Had I not answered promptly on queue and been caught daydreaming or worse, sleeping, my punishment would have been harsh indeed.
“When did you last use the whip on another submissive, Crystal,” questions Mistress Joyce.
“Three weeks ago, Mistress Joyce. A submissive named Audrey, owned by Mistress Shelley, I delivered thirty strokes with the whip.”
“And how did Audrey react?”
“She was difficult at first because previously she had only been disciplined by her Mistress, her being new to the scene and not understanding that as a submissive she could be used by anyone that her Mistress wanted. But I soon changed her mind with a skillful use of the whip. I had her screaming her submission,” answered Crystal.
“Did you take her to bed afterwards?” asked Mistress Joyce.
“Yes, I was allowed to do so, and I taught her that her body no longer belonged to her as was at the disposal of whoever her Mistress allowed to use her.”
“Excellent, Crystal. I can see that everything that Mistress Morgan has told me about you is true. You will make a fine Mistress someday.”
“Thank you, Mistress Joyce.”
“Well, I’m sorry Mistress Morgan but I must be going. I’m sure that both you and Crystal here will properly take of Vanessa while I’m gone.”
“I’m sure we will, Mistress, and thank you. It will mean so much for Crystal here to whip the petulance out of Vanessa that you described. There is nothing like taking on a challenge as a first assignment,” said Mistress Morgan.
“I’m sure.”
“Let me escort you to the door, and we can let Crystal get to know Vanessa in private,” suggested Mistress Morgan, “since they’re going to be on intimate terms very soon.”
“Yes,” replied Mistress Joyce, “very intimate terms.”
***
After the library door had closed, I was alone with Vanessa. Since I was the Dominant, I began the conversation.
“How long have you been a submissive, Vanessa?” I asked.
“Three years, Mistress.”
“We’ve been in the scene for about the same length of time then,” I said.
“Yes,” Vanessa answered.
“You’ve had some serious use,” I observed.
“Yes, I’ve been severely used and marked. I enjoy the whip, the riding crop, and the flogger. Please use me harshly,” Vanessa asked.
“Doesn’t Mistress Joyce use you enough?” I asked.
“For me, the answer is no. I was very happy to sign on with Mistress Joyce when I was offered the chance. She is a well known Mistress, and I wanted to experience her. However, she gets quickly bored with her submissives. After six months, I was more a servant than a submissive. She didn’t punish me harshly enough, nor take me to bed enough either. Now I know what a neglected wife must feel like. More often than not, I get a perfunctory session, then get sent to my bedroom while Mistress Joyce entertains another Mistress or submissive.”
“That must be very disappointing.”
“It’s not what I became a submissive for, and why I may leave the scene. Whip marks are going to be a little hard to explain to a vanilla husband, I’ll tell you that.”
I remained silent, not sure of what to say next.
“Does Mistress Morgan treat you properly? Give you harsh sessions? Take you to her bed, leave you with marks to show her Dominance over you?” Vanessa asked.
“Yes,” I answered.
“I suppose so, that’s why you’re getting promoted to assistant, and she has left me with your Mistress while she goes and fools around with someone else, while I dearly wish that I was the object of her attentions,” said Vanessa.
“I understand,” I told her, “is this the cause of your petulance?”
“Yes.”
“I promise not to tell a word of this to Mistress Morgan,” I answered Vanessa.
“Good, and I thank you very much. Just be sure and make me scream under the whip tonight. I haven’t been properly used in months. The last time was when Mistress loaned me out to Master David. At least he gave me a few good sessions, then took my cunt and my bottom with his massive cock,” Vanessa explained.
“Is this true?” I asked.
“You’ll just have to take my word for it,” Vanessa replied, “naked girls have no reason to lie.”
“If I’m to place you under the lash, I want to get a better look at you,” I told Vanessa, as I rose from my chair, “please stand up.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
I walked over to Vanessa and I watched her get to her feet. I circled around her, noting that she was a pretty girl indeed. I looked carefully at her whip marks, wondering why she had endured such punishments? Then I stood directly in front of her, and noted her shapely breasts, belly, sex, and legs.
I placed my left fingers under her chin, and gently raised her head so that I could look directly at her face.
“Oh my god,” I said aloud, “I know you.”
“I know you too, Mistress Crystal. We attended the same Cotillion Ball together, the same upper class meat market where we were supposed to meet a man and get married and produce kids. I suppose that you didn’t want that future either,” said Vanessa.
“No,” I answered.
“Your secret is safe with me, Mistress Crystal. Provided you don’t tell Mistress Morgan about what’s wrong with her friend, Mistress Joyce.”
“Of course, we both have something to hide,” I told Vanessa.
“Both of us, for our own reasons, have decided that a life as a submissive is far better than as a breeding cow. Frankly, changing dirty diapers has no appeal to me, and luckily I haven’t met anyone in the scene who is into infantilism. All I want is to be bound and disciplined,” said Vanessa.
“I want the same thing as well,” I replied.
“Good, then we understand each other.”
“Better get back on your knees, Vanessa.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
I was shaken to my core that someone from my former affluent life had reached the same decision I had. We were two rich girls that had chosen bondage and discipline over family life.
***
We are next downstairs in Mistress Morgan’s playroom, except that it will be Vanessa who will be under the lash, administered by me. I had been hoping that I would be the recipient, under the lash of Mistress Morgan. Instead I will be using our guest tonight.
The playroom is a converted basement, hidden behind a locked door. It contains a raised dais, on which sits two padded wooden chairs that look like thrones. They are for Mistress Morgan and a guest.
There is a small jail cell that was constructed of sections that can be dis-assembled if need be. A small wooden cage can also contain a naked submissive, something that I have experienced many times. Chains hang from the walls and ceiling; and there is a rack that contains whips, riding crops, floggers, and other devices of torment. There is also a wooden horse, which when a submissive is made to place her naked body on a small piece of wood will feel like she is being split in two. Next, there is an “X” frame to tie a submissive to, but that device only allows access to the front of the body. Lastly, to complete the inventory, there are a couple of padded benches.
The playroom also contains another room beyond which is a small bedroom and bathroom.
In short, there are plenty of things designed to give a submissive a painful time. The ceiling has been soundproofed so that anyone upstairs will not hear the screams of a person being whipped.
Mistress Morgan is seated on her throne on the dais, wearing a simple black latex bra and skirt, and matching thigh high latex boots.
I am wearing the gift of my new PVC Dominatrix Dress from Mistress Morgan, which she has zipped me into from the back. I have on a pair of matching boots with three inch heels; and opera gloves that reach past my elbows.
Vanessa is naked on the floor, kneeling again. We have provided a small white rug for her to kneel on so that she does not hurt her knees.
Which is awfully strange, given what I am about to do to her.
“Crystal, since you do not have an assistant I will be happy to serve as one for you,” Mistress Morgan offered.
“Thank you, Mistress.”
“From this moment on, whenever you wear your Dominatrix Dress, you shall be called ‘Mistress’.”
“Thank you, Mistress Morgan,” I reply.
Proper etiquette must be observed in a D/s relationship at all times. After all, I still wear her collar.
“State your name,” I begin what I have learned from Mistress Morgan.
“Vanessa Ross.”
“What is your age?”
“Twenty-nine years old.”
“Are you here of your own free will?”
“Yes.”
“Do you understand the ordeal that you are about to undergo?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“What is your safe-word?” I ask.
“Class,” Vanessa replies.
“Arise,” I command her, “and you may go to the rack and select your instrument of torment.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Vanessa does as she is told, gets to her feet from the small rug (the rest of the playroom is a bare wooden floor). Then she clicks her heels on the floor and walks to the rack, and removes a single tail whip.
It is a good thing that for the past two years I have been well trained by Mistress Morgan. The whip is a potentially dangerous instrument that can deliver real harm unless properly used. It can break the skin and leave marks behind that will never fade. Marks that both Vanessa and I carry on our naked skin.
She walks back to me and hands me the coiled leather, and bows. Her naked body beckons, and I desire first to discipline her, then take her to bed.
“Mistress Morgan?” I ask.
“Yes, Mistress Crystal.”
“Could you please place leather restraint cuffs on Vanessa’s wrists and ankles, lock them into spreader bars, and then hang her from the ceiling?”
“Of course, Mistress,” Mistress Morgan replies.
It would have been a severe breach of etiquette for me to refuse the offer of help from my Mistress. There is a reason that we call them “scenes”; there is nothing spontaneous about BDSM. Everything has to be planned out in advance; even the simple whipping of a submissive.
I watch in silence as Mistress Morgan places the familiar bondage cuffs on Vanessa, cuffs that I have worn many times myself and will again do so in the future. Vanessa is an experienced submissive and allows herself to be cuffed, even helping Mistress Morgan to close them tightly. This way there will be no danger of her possibly slipping out of them during the scene and causing an accident. I saw this happen at a demo once, and the submissive nearly damaged her other shoulder.
Mistress Morgan then locks the leather cuffs to a pair of spreader bars which are two feet apart. Vanessa will be exposed and vulnerable to the whip.
Finally Mistress Morgan locks the spreader bar to two ceiling chains and two on the floor. She activates a remote control on her belt and Vanessa is first pulled taut, and then her feet can barely touch the floor.
Having two chains on each bar means that she will be unable to twist and avoid the whip. Vanessa will be totally helpless.
“Thank you, Mistress Morgan,” I tell her.
“You’re welcome, would you like her to be gagged?”
“No thank you, Mistress Morgan. Since I do not know how this girl will perform under the whip, even though she asked for it herself, I do not believe that is a good idea,” I reply.
“Very good, Mistress Crystal. I see that I have taught you well.”
“Thank you, Mistress. You can be seated if you like.”
“You’re welcome, Mistress Crystal,” Mistress Morgan replies.