Mrs. Hart's Ache Ch. 18

"Which reminds me," I continued, "be sure to make an appointment to get your 'pretty' waxed again next Saturday morning. It is to be done before you go to see Mistress Gwendolyn. Since you probably don't own the type of bikini that will appeal to Mistress Saundra, you may as well make the appointment in person. You can take the opportunity to buy several different styles while your there. You can guess the kind of thing she likes to see a woman wear for her. Also, be sure to apologize to and tip the ladies as I've instructed."

Again, it was all Mrs Hart could do to keep silent, though her expression spoke volumes. The idea of actually being forced to apologize to someone sent her blood pressure soaring again. The thought of being forced to wear a skimpy bikini for another woman didn't help. I made a mental note to have her get it checked. I wondered in passing what her doctor would have to say about her piercings. Her Gynecologist was in for a surprise too. The thought made me grin inside.

Mrs Hart was grinding her teeth and shifting in her seat, partially from the need to say something, but also because her ass was still tender from her session with Mistress Gwendolyn. I decided to give her a bit of good news with the bad.

"You'll be happy to know that I've decided to delay your session with my flogger scheduled for tomorrow night for now," I said, letting my grin show. "Apparently the lessons you had earlier taught you some discretion. We'll see if it sticks. The thought of giving your bare pussy a few slaps makes my dick hard, but you've earned a reprieve."

I watched her, waiting. She struggled for a moment, then capitulated.

"Thank you sir," she said quietly, her tone sincere, if in her heart grudging, "I appreciate your forbearance."

About then, the waitress delivered our food. We each ordered another drink to go with the meal. Mrs Hart really needed another, to help choke down that apology if nothing else.

Jesus! She is way fun to fuck with. Dangling participle or no, it is the truth.

"Besides, I have a few other things to do tomorrow. After all, I can't spend all my time with you teaching manners," I said as I squeezed a wedge of lemon over the oysters. "And after tonight, you'll need a rest."

Mrs Harts eyes jerked up from her plate, grey eyes wide with concern. My last sentence was the first indication that her day – her weekend – was not yet complete.

"Don't get your panties – by the way, you are wearing panties aren't you – " flushing, she glanced around out of the corners of her eyes to see if anyone had heard, then nodded quickly, " – in a bunch Mrs Hart. I think you'll enjoy at least part of what I have planned for this evening. We'll be staying again at the townhouse. We'll have company."

Her fork clattered against her plate. Her eyes widened. A touch of panic glinted. She clutched her glass, then took a deep pull of vodka.

I gestured toward her plate.

"Calm down and eat. You need sustenance. And quit worrying, only Cassandra will be joining us. She volunteered to show you how to care for your piercings. We don't want any chance of infection in such a delicate area now do we," I stated, rather than asked.

Mrs Hart couldn't help but give a sigh of relief. She said, "It's just that I've never been..." She blushed then tried again, "I've never been 'with' another woman. Thank goodness it's Cassandra."

She didn't regard Cassandra as a threat of any kind. After all, she'd seen her as a victim rather than a perpetrator. Little did she know.

I waited until she'd taken a few bites to hit her with the next one.

"By the way Mrs Hart," I said after taking a pull of Guinness, "you seem to have forgotten that you lost the game yesterday."

She looked at me in confusion, obviously trying to remember what game we'd played.

"You lost your panties for the weekend, remember?"

Confusion turned to alarm as the memory came flooding back. I could see that she was wondering what effect that particular omission – rather that commission – would have.

"Don't worry about it now," I said soothingly. "Despite what you might think, I'm not a complete asshole. Nor am I ignorant of the health aspects. Cassandra warned me that you'd need to wear panty liners for the next week or so to protect both your pussy from infection and your clothes. Don't be surprised if the piercings seep a little. So you'll need the panty liners, and you can't wear panty liners without panties, can you. I'll wait for you to heal a bit before collecting on that debt. Just remember, you owe me a couple of days sans underwear."

Mrs Hart blushed at the thought of walking around in a dress or skirt without panties. Only sluts went without panties, and she was not a slut, despite what the engravings on her clit jewelry might state to the contrary.

Was she?

The oysters were superb, the Guinness as good as ever and Mrs Hart left little on her plate. She must have been starving. She also polished off two glasses of ice water and three full ounces of premium vodka before we were through eating. Alcohol isn't recommended so soon after piercing, but she deserved – hell, she needed – the relief. It had been a long day for her.

It was time for some R&R. And some R&R.

The ride to town was almost pleasant. Mrs Hart was happy to be gone from the dungeon, even if she knew she'd be returning within the week. If she hadn't been with me, I think she'd been cheerful. Well, me and the twinges in her butt. Miata seats are perfectly comfortable, but the stripes on her ass were irritating at best. While watching her squirm, I made a mental note to apply more cream when we got back to the townhouse.

I parked in a visitor's spot in the garage beneath the residences. Cassandra's Land Rover was in the owner's space. The lady herself called a greeting from the Master bedroom when she heard the door open. Keiko Matsui's piano was soft from the hidden speakers. Mrs Hart went directly to the bar to pour yet another vodka. I put the bag that Saundra had prepared on the bar beside her.

I thought, what the hell: if she got tipsy, maybe she'd relax and enjoy herself a little. That was certainly my plan. Cassandra's too.

Knowing Cassandra's tastes, I fashioned a pair of tall Sapphire and tonics for us. The refrigerator behind the bar offered fresh limes, so I was able to do it right. Mrs Hart moved around to keep the bar between us. Her caution was amusing. I smiled and shook my head. She didn't notice.

While I was making the drinks, Cassandra appeared at the bedroom door tastefully dressed in a crop top, clear blue Lucite mules with four inch heels and a fresh pair of panties, a sheer g-string, white with powder blue ribbon ties stretched high upon her hips. The fabric of the panties was tight to her mons, displaying the hairless lips of her plump vulva.

The crop top was loose on her, having been fashioned from a man's crew-neck T-shirt. The bottom had been cut away then washed. The ragged cut curled up under to display the bottom curves of her bare breasts. Her ringed nipples indented the soft white cotton. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, held in place with a multi-colored scrunchy.

"Hi sweetie," I called. "You look scrumptious. Give us a kiss."

Jesus! Watching her stride across the room on those mules, with her bare breasts swaying beneath that top was something to behold. If I hadn't been horny before, I got there quick just observing. Mr Snake appreciated the view too. He was standing up, sniffing for prime pussy again.

Cassandra saw my reaction and grinned, giving her boobies an extra shake as she neared. Damn that's choice!

She offered the kiss in exchange for the drink, then smiled just for me. She gave Mr Snake a friendly caress too. He loves that kind of thing. Makes him stand up higher, begging for more. We stood together behind the bar and looked at Mrs Hart.

Mrs Hart was standing on the other side of the bar, studiously avoiding our eyes and concentrating on her drink. Her eyes flickered to us, then down again. She looked like she was waiting for the hammer to fall.

Rather than a hammer, I gave her a pillow. A soft one.

"Relax Mrs Hart," I said with a friendly smile. "The hard part is over. You've endured enough punishments this weekend. It's time to loosen up and play a little. The worst thing that I plan is to spread some lotion on your butt which might sting a little. And Cassandra is here to help you care for your piercings. I thought we'd have a drink, listen to some music and later we can either go out to eat, or order in again. Your choice. I'll even pay for it."

She glanced at me suspiciously, but loosened her stance to lean against the bar. The glass was no longer clutched tightly in her hand. I would have told her to take a seat, but I knew her butt was still a bit tender.

"Why don't you finish your drink," I said gently. "Then you can take a shower. Afterwards we'll put some lotion on your bottom, and Cassandra can help you care for the piercings."

The tension left her face. She took another sip of vodka, then started to say, "If you don't mind, I'd rather take a bath – ", but Cassandra interrupted.

"Oh no," she said quickly. "That's a very bad idea. Those piercing wounds are too fresh. Hot bath water isn't sterile. You could get an infection very easily. I brought a bottle of antibacterial soap for you. For the next couple of weeks it would be best if you took showers and used that soap. Stay away from swimming pools and hot tubs too. And let those piercing wounds get plenty of air."

Mrs Hart's eyebrows rose, then her face began to cloud.

Cassandra interpreted the look and headed off the explosion.

"Look. I don't mean that you shouldn't wear underwear," she said waving her hands, signaling 'halt'. "In fact, you should wear both a bra and panties, first to protect the wounds from infection and second, to support your breasts. Your breasts are obviously larger than average. Those nipple rings may ache more if the skin is stretched. I know. It happened to me when I was pierced and I wear a smaller cup size than you."

Mrs Hart relaxed. I think she finally realized that Cassandra was really giving good advice. Advice based upon experience. Mrs Hart may be many things, but stupid isn't one of them. She listened, then began asking intelligent questions.

While the ladies talked, I played bartender. Before long, they were sitting side by side at the bar actually having a friendly conversation. The topics changed eventually, any Mrs Hart learned more about Cassandra as a person. She shuddered when she heard that Cassandra's hobby was free climbing.

I let the two women talk, only adding a comment now and then. Mrs Hart was would shift her seat frequently. Cassandra noticed and eventually suggested that Mrs Hart take her shower, then they could treat the piercing sites and get some lotion on her bottom.

It was Mrs Hart's idea that Cassandra go into the bathroom with her, to show her exactly how to care for the wounds.

I blinked, but Cassandra took it in stride, leading the way.

While the ladies took care of their business, I took care of mine. After a quick shower of my own – five minutes hot to get clean, then two minutes cold to get the blood flowing – I donned my robe and watched the end of a ballgame. The Yanks and Toronto, with Johnson throwing K's like the old days. Rivera and outstanding defense ended it for him with about eight pitches in the ninth. Jeter caught a first pitch rocket. Matsui got a fly ball to the wall in left and the last guy went down lookin' at it. Seven to one, Yankees. Good game.

I was at the bar, making another drink when I heard the ladies exit the bathroom. They were actually giggling together about something. A major surprise, but also a very good sign. Soon afterward, they came back together looking for liquid refreshments.

Mrs Hart apparently decided to give her piercings the airing that Cassandra had suggested. A smile feathered her lips at my reaction to her selection of apparel. Those vodka rocks seemed to have taken the edge off nicely. Mrs Hart appeared to be ready to party.

Both ladies had changed. Cassandra kept her scrunchy, thong and mules, but replaced the crop top with a off the shoulder white mesh top that left her taut belly bare and did little to hide those bodacious boobies of hers. This was not Cassandra's favorite mode of dress. I know she did it just for my viewing pleasure. Well, that and to stay even with Mrs Hart.

I say that because Mrs Hart was stunning in a shorty robe of sheer black silk, thigh high black silk stockings and a half-cup balconet bra that left her ringed nipples bare. Oh and clear Lucite mules that matched Cassandra's. She'd left her panties behind. The robe was casually belted at her waist, leaving a gap which displayed the sides of her breasts and her hairless vulva. The silver of her jewelry flashed as she walked toward me. Like Cassandra beside her, the smooth flesh of her heavy breasts quivered with each step.

The lady surely did know how to make an entrance.

"I see from your expression that I have managed to please you James," she said with an intimate laugh. "Your friend and sometime submissive Cassandra has managed to convince me that I will have more fun this evening if I relax and go with the flow. She and the Stoly anyway."

She stepped beside and kissed me on the cheek, giving Mr Snake a gentle pat through the robe as she did so. She too had her auburn mane gathered loosely in a scrunchy at the nape of her neck.

I thought,Whoa! What the shit is this all about!

Mrs Hart could see the question in my eyes. She answered without the question being asked.

"It's been a very long weekend for me. I can't say that I've enjoyed everything that you've put me through. We still have major problems between us. But for tonight, I'd like to call a truce. Besides, Cassandra, among other things, is very astute. She recognized immediately how much this excites me. She also convinced me that I haven't hidden that..." she paused for a moment, searching for just the right word, "...that 'condition' well from either you or the Mistresses Saundra and Gwendolyn."

She accepted a fresh drink from Cassandra, mouthing a 'thank you' then continued.

"You three are making me do things that I'd never dare on my own. I can't promise you that I won't fight you sometimes, but I'm also intelligent enough to realize that you have the control. You and I both know how foreign that is to me. I hate it, but there's nothing I can do about it right now, and I'm weary of the battle. At least for tonight."

Then she grinned, taking ten years off.

"But the real reason, in case you haven't guessed..." she whispered intimately kissing my cheek again, "...is that I'm hornier than I've ever been in my life. You have no idea what these 'decorations', as you call them, do to a woman's libido."

At that moment it hit me. I understood. Mrs Hart was attempting to change the game. She had failed to intimidate me. As she saw it, the next logical step was to seduce me.

"That's one of only two things you've said tonight with which I take issue, Mrs Hart" I said laughing. "I'm intimately familiar with the effect such 'decorations' can have. Ask Cassandra."

"I did. She agreed," Mrs Hart said in a throaty murmur, you know; the voice designed by a woman to make a man's dick hard. It worked. "She also promised me the story of the day you branded her bottom."

She turned to Cassandra. "I still don't understand how you could do that dear," she said with a shiver. "Even the thought of it gives me goosebumps. See?" She held out her arm. All the fine hairs were standing tall.

"I didn't do it," Cassandra answered quietly, her soft voice calm and sure; her eyes unseeing in memory. "James – my Master did it. He tied me down, naked, to a workbench, then gagged me. When I was completely helpless, he fucked me. Hard. Fast. Brutal. Totally uncaring of my needs." She shivered; sudden goosebumps rose from her arms. No question about the condition of her pussy: I knew without the need to check that it was flooded.

"I can still feel the rough leather of his gloves on my naked ass holding me open as he fucked me; as he used my body for his pleasure," Cassandra continued, softly, "the sound of his naked skin slapping mine; the feel of his body pounding against mine; that huge cock pumping into my defenseless pussy like a jackhammer; the edge of the bench hard against my hips with each thrust; the feeling of the rough wood beneath my breasts; the ropes around my wrists and ankles holding me open; helpless. I was so turned on."

She shivered again, still deep in the memory. "Then, just before I was ready, he came in me. I remember feeling his dick ramming deep inside me; then the wet as he spurted into me. He seemed to fill me with his cum, but he didn't allow me to climax. I was devastated because I hadn't made it with him. He left me hanging, right on the edge. He did it on purpose. He can be so cruel."

Mrs Hart was spellbound. She stood with drink sitting on the bar forgotten, watching Cassandra's face. Her breaths were short, almost panting. Her nipples were crinkled dark beneath areolae shrunk to red-brown knots upon her bare breasts. The rings stood out from her breasts, rising as her nipples contracted.

Below, the lips of her hairless vulva were flushed full, the inner lips crinkled dark red and glistening, peeking from between. The hood of her clit was exposed, the silver of her new jewelry glinting in the light. She seemed to vibrate with excitement. One hand rose to cup a breast with forefinger brushing the ring hanging there.

Still lost in her memory, Cassandra's voice sharpened. "Then he did it. His cum spilled down my leg as he stepped away, pulling his dick from my vagina. God, I felt so open and vulnerable; so used. But I was completely helpless as he whispered in my ear: 'You'll be a slave forevermore.' Before I could think, I felt the brand searing the flesh of my asscheek. The smell of my burning flesh filled the room. He held it there for..." a vast tremor raced through her body, "...for a lifetime. Then as it pulled away, something burst deep inside me. I was defenseless against his power. The orgasm that surged through me was the best I've ever had. That was his gift to me, for taking everything else. I don't remember anything after that; just the rush, the power of that orgasm savaging me."

Cassandra's eyes cleared again. Another shiver ran through her body. She smiled at me.

"He tells me that I passed out for a while," she said, savoring the experience. "While I was gone, he released me from the ropes and treated the burn. God, it hurt! It hurt for two weeks. I couldn't sit down. Not for long anyway. He wouldn't let me wear pants, only dresses and skirts, but he was there for me, whenever I needed him. He took care of me, and dressed the burn every day."

She laughed. "You should have seen me, stretched out wherever, with my skirt flipped up, my panties pulled down to my thighs and my butt hanging out while he rinsed the burn and replaced the dressing. Usually I was bent over that damn workbench. But the good part was that he'd usually fuck me first, before he changed the dressing. And he made sure I got mine every time. He's very good at that. When he wants to be."

Arms folded beneath her breasts and pressed to the rail, she leaned over the bar, offering her lips for a smooch. I obliged.

"May I see it again?" Mrs Hart asked timidly. "May I see your..." she paused, blushing as we glanced at her, "...your s-scar; your brand?"

"Sure," Cassandra answered with a smile feathering her lips. "Come on, I'll show you. You can get a close look," she said as she turned and walked toward the bedroom door. "But it's not my brand. It's his. It always will be, even when he's gone."