O-A Little Later Ch. 06

We stood side by side as she showed me her pictures. I felt a little embarrassed, the image of her naked submission was so graphic and degrading that I had to look to see her response to my viewing. She kept her eyes down, yet she was standing proudly naked beside me.

"How do you feel about these images, O? This one of you is humiliating, it shows every part of your body and the suffering in your eyes, yet you do not hesitate to open it and the others to me and you seem to want to talk about them. They are of girls experiencing pain, being submitted to torture and being marked as possessions." I felt that to ask was an invasion of her minimal personal space, yet she did not hesitate to respond.

"I am proud of my status and what I have done to show the work at Samois. I have long since abandoned any pretence of ego or personal privacy. These images will be immortal to the tiny elite that have been able to know them. Many of these girls are no longer in the life for various reasons. The life itself is no longer what it once was- so much has changed. I knew all these girls and shared their time at Samois. Their suffering and trained submission was a crucial time in their lives, as it had been in mine. The record I kept is a celebration of submission and the gift that a slave makes of her body and essence to serve another." She spoke clearly and calmly, with utter conviction underlying her words.

"Older slave women had been seen by me at Roissy and were often broken in spirit as well as body- it was a hard life I had chosen. To be fair though, I had also seen two women who were still proud and generous in their submission who gave me hope. One had a master who was much older, she took responsibility for his body needs and his affairs while still subservient to him. The other was part of the Roissy ménage, helping the valets with girls, managing the housekeeping of the Chateau and occasionally lending herself when someone wanted her.

"As I told you earlier, you are the first man to use me and take pleasure in my body for many years. The background to that is something that I wish to offer up to you, but there are a number of things that I need to make clear to you first. Will you bear with me as I follow my story, please?" She looked toward me with pleading in her face- a surprise considering the gentle, acquiescent manner that she had shown until now.

I nodded my consent, as many other questions boiled up in me at her words. Patience was to be my lesson, for now.

Her initial picture was a full folio size, monochrome with her in full frontal figure, from knees to head. The subsequent pictures of the other girls were of differing sizes, with differing body parts displayed. While they were either headless, or with faces turned away in the early sections of the folio, later there were faces clearly visible in the later ones- clearly the anonymity was discarded as time progressed. The ones with no visible face were very graphic in their display, yet the ones with face displayed were more shocking- the emotions and pain etched in them made them immediate and obscenely shocking. They were all utterly pornographic, in a way that consensual photos could never be, regardless of the quality of acting.

She began to explain to me the girls and their stories that unfolded with each opening page. "One of the first girls to arrive was Nathalie, who was sent by the man who had taken her. She was still girlish and showed the naïvete that I remembered from the first time she had revealed her love to me in the villa in the south of France where she had learned of my enslavement". She went on to tell me that Rene had returned her to her parents on our return to Paris, and had gained a promise that she could accompany Jacqueline the next summer as well. She returned to her Lycee for which Jacqueline's modelling work was paying. The impatience she had was ultimately satisfied that following summer when Rene added her to the ménage at the same villa. Any resistance that Jacqueline may have had at having to share Rene with her sister was silenced by the time she had spent at Roissy earlier that year. Her arrogant manner had been quelled as she had been shared, forced and whipped by the members.

The photos she showed of Nathalie's petite form were faceless, yet showed the treatment that Anne-Marie was so good at- opened and whipped on the dais, walking naked in the garden, then ultimately having a single ring inserted in her nether lip- not with the second ring and disc that O had been laden with, nor the brand on her rear. The only feature that was unmistakable was long black hair, her face was invisible in all the shots.

"Tell me, O, were you able to use Nathalie during her stay there? Did you whip her? What did you feel when you saw her?" She was silent for some time while she considered her response.

"She was taken to bed by Anne-Marie and Irene on several occasions. I was able to caress her while she was tied open in the Music Room. I sometimes drew the number that meant I was to whip her, which I did with relish, then I lay with her for a long time afterwards. To help her learn the link from the whip to sexual pleasure was my mission. She gave every sign of loving me yet was in complete submission to the man who had taken responsibility for her. She preferred to give me pleasure than to receive what I could give her. She was tiny, so it was a daily challenge to insert the phallus into her rear to stretch it. I drove it with a mixture of savagery and love which was irresistible to me. Her suffering was beautiful to behold and she bore it with pride.

"These two others were on their second visit to Samois, you can see that their markings have been done- the tattoo across the pubic bone of the blonde, the Cross of Lorraine branded on the buttock of another girl. Her man was strong in the Resistance, I believe". All told, there were some twenty-five girls shown in the folio, all that had passed through Anne-Marie's hands in that year.

All were beautiful, with some unmarked, skin clear except for fresh whip cuts, while others were heavily pierced, lower lips, clitori and nipples all bearing metal. O's photos had some sequences showing the action of the piercing, including the face of the victim as the pain was done to her. Such an intensity of pain and visual eroticism was hard to see, yet there was no thought of rebellion in any of the faces that I could see.

She finally closed the folio then went to the same room and brought back a large bound book with a plain black cover and glossy photographic paper. "This is the book that we had made by a very exclusive printer in Montmartre. The print run was 250 and we sold them for the price of a luxury car- yet no-one to whom we offered a copy refused or even hesitated. I believe that these now are traded within the community at many times their original price. Anne-Marie took half the proceeds and gave me the other half. I made investments, which continue to provide an income for me and my daughter. I have taken on other similar projects since those days, which have kept me involved with the Society of Roissy. Many men wished to record their possessions, with the ephemerality of a slave's beauty captured at its height, or in their most intense passion.

"Mine is a clandestine art, I will never exhibit to great audiences, nor can my patrons or models be named openly, yet I have all the fame I would want among a tiny elite."

She placed the book beside the folio on the table, adjusting their alignment to be precisely parallel with its edge. This seemed to be a ritual, or was it to cover an agitation that was occurring within her?

I moved over to stand behind her, took her hands in mine and crossed the wrists behind her back. She leaned back against me with a sigh and I held her to me with a hand cupped to her breast while the other held her wrists. "Close your eyes, please" I whispered, then turned her and propelled her before me towards the bedroom again. The images and story had stirred me and I could not get the mistreatment of those young women from my mind's eye.

In the bedroom I bade her stand in the middle of the floor, in the exact centre of the Turkish carpet's pattern. I unlaced her corset then unhooked it from around her. I wanted her fully open to the beating I would give her. I went to the dresser, where I found a black scarf, which I tied around her eyes.

"Put your hands on your head please, and keep them there. I intend to whip you now so will put the choice to you- which whip should it be? You could not answer Sir Stephen then, so answer me now." I could feel her tremble as I spoke.

The four tools were there clearly visible on the wall across from the bed. The many-tailed lash with its knotted cords, the narrow green riding crop, the bamboo rod and the long dog-whip were part of her day- she must have seen them as she woke, and last thing at night for all those years. I wondered if the rather grand light fitting suspended from the middle of the ceiling had ever been replaced with a simple chain.

She spoke at once, without any doubt in her voice, "the dog whip again, s'il vous plait, monsieur." This was a decision she had imagined many times in her past. Whether it was a wish to imagine the hand of Sir Stephen beating her again, or that she loved the special bite of that vicious narrow braid, I would not ask her- it mattered little and I was not sure if I wanted to know her answer.

I crossed the room and took it from the hook. The lash was nearly two metres long with a thickly braided handle. I felt the softness of its leather, someone had cared for it with oil on a regular basis. I wondered if that was the silent woman's work, or if O herself had made it her ritual, against the day she might feel it on her again.

I went close to her, so close I could hear her heart pounding and her ragged breathing- anticipation was a big part of her sensation. I used the handle to guide her legs apart to shoulder width and caressed her moist lips, which drew a gasp from her mouth. Her other lips were dry from the stress and rapid breathing.

"Stand straight, with your shoulders back and keep your legs apart. This will be a test of the quality of your training- do not disappoint me." I stepped a long pace from her, turned and struck firmly, watching the lash wrap around her waist, where the skin was still embossed with the pattern of the corset. She let out a long breath which she must have been holding. The mark went from white to red in a second or two. The second stripe went around her hips, at the top of her buttocks, wrapping nearly to her pubic hair at the front- she gasped and flinched, yet quickly straightened again for the next stroke.

I drew a little further back and laid the whip with all my strength on the full flesh of her rump, which twitched as she struggled to keep her stance. She issued a low moan and drew herself straight again. Two more close to that one, above it and below turned the moan to a strong cry as I admired the results. Her breaths had turned to sobs, jiggling her breasts which were yet pressed forward, so I moved a quarter circle around her and laid the whip across them from the side, twice. Her voice rose to a loud cry as the sensation penetrated deeper within her. Her face was tilted back with a look of rapture, yet tears flowed from beneath the scarf. The last mark crossed both nipples, which must have been intense for her. She was trembling and looked as if she might fall.

I held her by the waist and threw her forward across the bed, then drew her back until her bottom was at the edge. I opened my trousers and drove myself into her rear without preparation- she opened easily to my member and moaned constantly as I worked within her. I gripped her hips and was driven to higher pleasure as a little blood oozed from the marks I had placed on her. She writhed constantly and spread her thighs wider, her moans rose towards her crisis which seemed to overwhelm her. The muscles of her bottom gripped me firmly as I spilled within her. I pulled her off the bed to her knees and made her clean my penis, which she did with enthusiasm. As she did this, I noted the white counterpane was streaked with pink, from the welts on her chest and belly which oozed a few drops of her blood.

I left her on the floor while I went to use the bidet, again. When I returned she had resumed her kneeling position, with hands behind her. "It is very convenient that I do not need to tie you for a whipping, your servility is well advanced, my whore." She blushed a deep red and adjusted her position to spread her legs wider and thrust her chest forward. As well as physical pain, she required regular reminders of her humiliating role.

The day was wearing on. The autumn sun was weakening in the window as we returned to the other room and it was good to feel the warmth of the fire again. My needs had been satisfied and the bond that had been forming between us had strengthened.

I returned to the point at which we had digressed. "While you were recording the girls at Samois, what was happening with your daughter? She must have been a disturbance to the household and its work, surely? And what had happened to the girl Claire that had been at Samois before?" I was beginning to clear some of the minor questions in her story and other clues that I had observed in this household.

"The business of preparing the material for the book took more than a year. Anne-Marie was exacting in her standards- I was often whipped for failing to achieve the quality she felt was vital. My daughter was cared for by the housekeeper, Clothilde, who you have seen here, and by Irene at times. Irene had another job that took her away from Paris for weeks at a time. I never asked, but I think she was a nurse for women in the military, which was a new innovation. Those poor girls had to allow that lesbian to handle their bodies with no right of objection."

I was taken aback by the link with the silent housekeeper- I should have guessed. That Irene had found herself a position of power where she had access to many young women's bodies was unsurprising, I had been raised in the Catholic faith.

"At the time that my girl was taking her first steps, and needed my breast less often, Anne-Marie came to me with her thoughts. After that first outburst of punishment she had retained control of those feelings well, though at times her abuse of me had been focussed on my breasts, especially after I had fed the girl. She said 'you may remember Claire who was part of my household when you were first here? She is no longer mine. She asked to be allowed to find happiness away from the life that surrounds us here. I granted her that freedom- to have an unhappy or unwilling slave is of no value to me, though others seek that quality.

"'That was two years ago, she has found a young man that she says she loves and they are living in a village near Paris in a house with a garden and a dog. He goes to some Bureau in the Elysee Palace each morning on the train and returns to her each evening. I imagine her meeting him at the door with an aperitif and a kiss.

"'He does not know that at least once or twice each month she returns here to me for a whipping- her man does not fill that need in her, He trusts her utterly, does not know the debased slave that she really is. She is two women, the angel of the daytime village and the needy slave that I know. She tells me that he is a little shocked at her sexual hunger after she visits me here, but never has noticed the marks on her. I fear he never sees her naked skin, though she has introduced him to the pleasures of her mouth and buttocks, which offended him at first, yet now he revels in their use. Perhaps there is hope there after all?

"'I had sterilised her before I sent her to Roissy the first time- a pregnancy was of no value to me. The need she has told me of is to be a mother. She willingly consented to the procedure I carried out on her, as further proof of my mastery of her, yet later came to see the lacuna in her life in the village. Her husband thinks she was sterilised for a genetic weakness in her line.

"'Your girl no longer needs your body's nourishment and your work here has become more demanding. The book is nearly completed and another project awaits you. I have seen your need to work and that you have gained great satisfaction from this book and what we do here. This work is to continue and expand while you remain with me, but of course you always have the option of asking to be released.

"'What I propose to you is that your daughter shall go to Claire to be raised as her own, to complete her rural idyllic life. There is plenty of money and a healthy environment. In that place she will learn all those sports and pastimes that used to be normal before the war. Claire and her man will be good parents to her. I want you now to go and spend time with your girl, consider what your futures will be. I have arranged for you to meet with Claire later this week, then again with her husband if you wish to go ahead with the arrangement.

"'I will tell you, O, that I myself was raised by an adoptive couple who had no children of their own. They were loving and kind and gave me many opportunities that my natural mother could not. She was raped by a German in the Great War and I was a source of terrible shame to her. Her family of established farmers and minor landowners cast her out so she became a prostitute in the slums outside Clichy. The chance to have me adopted was quickly grasped.

"'My education was a surprise to my mother when we met- I was one of the earliest women to qualify in medicine in France. My parents explained my birth to me when I was sixteen, yet it was many years later that I sought my true mother for the first time. I had suffered a similar fate at the hands of our occupying force and my child was born then taken from my breast and murdered in my sight by the Nazi officer who had taken me as his prize of conquest. I have never let a man touch me since, and can never forgive the scum who came here.'

"Her face was turned away from me. Her voice was thick with emotion. I longed to reach for her and hold her and with trembling fear, I did so. She returned my embrace fiercely, then broke off, saying 'Go, make your choice'. I found my girl playing in the kitchen, took her in my arms and carried her out to the garden, where spring was taking hold with real vigour. I was so used to being naked at all times, unless Anne-Marie had me corseted or I was aproned in the darkroom.

She had easy access to my breasts and fed often. I liked the warm sun on my bare skin and it helped my thoughts to flow steadily. She needed me less and less each day for milk, and the housekeeper and Irene cared for her other needs. She was never in the front of the house while girls were there being prepared for their future, but I could imagine a toddler curiously opening the Music Room door and suffering the sights within- not fair or safe to a child. Should the woman so displayed be her own mother then so much the worse.

"I could remember Claire well, she had often comforted me as I lay tied and exposed after a whipping, even if it had been her hand that had flogged my open thighs. Her caresses were kind and her voice was soft- I felt she might indeed be an answer for my child. I began to feel a rightness in this possibility, but there were many issues around it.

"First in my mind was the responsibility to her father- I was Sir Stephen's slave and responsible for his daughter. Should he seek me out I must be able to show her to him. Her welfare and success were my life's mission.

"Secondly was the need I had of her touch and the feel of her in my bed at night. She eased my heart and stilled the craving that rose in me for abuse and torture. Would I become more needy of violent attention from men and women without her? This resonated with my first need- if I was not in good condition I could not meet him again to lead him to her.