Pretty Woman Ch. 01

Teresa was dashing around in something of a panic, having been presented with unexpected company to cater for, and her eyes met mine with something akin to sympathy, as she held a tray of sherry-glasses out for us all to take one.

'I rather like the way your…er young lady dresses,' said Marcelo, to Lars, 'but you've been keeping her a secret from us, you sly dog.'

'Well, she's not been with me long,' said Lars, 'and she hasn't been properly, er….introduced to everything.' He finished the sentence lamely – I was sure he had really been going to say 'trained.'

A look passed between the two guests. They were obviously unsure of my status, and my erotic form of dress had them thinking. My corset felt suddenly unbearably uncomfortable, and I was acutely conscious of my nakedness. When I turned my back to the others in order to set my glass down on the coffee table, I knew my bare buttocks would be pushing against the thin, pleated fabric, for all to see. I looked around as I put the glass down, and caught Marcelo watching me intently. When I returned to speak to them, Selina reached out and fingered my collar, running a long, elegant, manicured finger around the silver ring that ws set into it.

'What a charming thing this is,' she remarked, smiling, 'it looks almost as if it's designed for you to be put on a leash.'

I'd had enough of pretence. 'It is, actually,' I said.

Lars stepped in – I had probably saved him the trouble of bringing up the subject.

'Katherine has consented to be my slave,' he said simply, 'and is currently receiving training.'

There was a short, awkward, silence, broken by Selina. 'How absolutely charming, darling,' she said, 'and of what does her training consist?'

'She will learn discipline, of course,' said Lars, then after a pause, 'when her training is complete, I may loan her to you if you wish.'

'We'd love that,' said Marcelo quickly, 'wouldn't we, my dear?'

'Yes of course,' his wife replied, 'we certainly would.'

We sat down and ate, but I was too nervous to eat much. I was anxious to be alone with Lars, but intrigued by the prospect of being 'loaned' to the attractive couple.

As soon as they had left, and we had seen them off in a taxi, Lars turned to me, a stern expresion on his even features.

'I suppose you realise you have let me down this evening?' he said, 'I am disappointed in you, Katherine.'

'I dressed specially for you, sir.'

'But not appropriately for this evening.'

'I'm sorry, sir, I didn't know……..'

'You didn't know? You didn't ask! You will know that I shall have no option but to punish you. Go and get those thing off, and prepare yourself for punishment as I told you to!'

As I walked off to my room, I had all kinds of mixed feelings going around in my head.

I felt indignant that I'd been unjustly admonished, terrified of my punishment, but terribly excited by the prospect of it – all at the same time.

I tried to remember what I had been told to put on, a I felt the huge relief of unbuttoning my corset, and waited a few minutes, savouring the feeling. I took off my stockings.

Then I put the heavy belt around my waist, knowing that was required of me without having to be told. I gasped as I pulled the string dangling from my asshole, and the two balls plopped audibly out.

Then I fished out one of the long white cotton dresses, put it over my head, and found that its hem fell just about perfectly to the floor. I buttoned up the bodice, right to the top, then poked around in my drawer until I found the leather anklets and bracelets I sought. I buckled them in place, then found the two lengths of chain, clipping one between my anklets before joining my wrists with the other.

I took a look in the mirror. Looking back at me was the somehow medieval image – I shuddered as I thought I looked as if I was going to be executed. Shrugging off the thought, I shuffled off barefoot to meet my fate.

Lars was waiting for me in the lounge, wearing a maroon dressing gown over pale blue silk pyjamas. He opened the door, and led me down the steps to the dungeon. My chain clanked on the rough stone as I went carefully down.

He threw the light switch and turned to me, then did a surprising thing – he took me into his arms, and kissed me, our tongues entwining, with a tenderness at odds with what he was about to do to me. After a moment, he eased me away from him, and slowly unfastened the buttons down the front of my dress, then slid it down off my shoulders. I was naked down to the waist. His pale eyes never left mine as he took something from his pocket.

'I shouldn't think you've ever worn these, my dear, have you?' he said, and when I looked down, I saw he had two silver objects in his hand. I knew instantly that they were nipple clamps. I flinched as he took a sensitive nipple between thumb and forefinger, then the sudden pain was excruciating as the strong spring of the clamp bit into my engorged nipple, cutting off the blood supply. I groaned as he moved to the other one, and gasped with the awful shock as he put it in place.

'I imagine that hurts?' he said, rhetorically, and he saw from the unbidden tears that rolled down my cheeks that he was right.

'My experience is that you will come to enjoy wearing them,' he said, and I wondered briefly about his 'experience' despite the pain I was in. It was then that I knew I wasn't his first slave.

He led me across the floor, and had me stand under a chain which hung below the cross-beam. There, he unclipped the chain from my wrists, then yanked them up above my head, clipping both wrists together onto a snap-link at the chain's end. My arms were not fully extended, and I could stand normally.

He stood away and regarded me for a moment, his head on one side. I must have looked all right to him, semi-suspended, stripped to the waist, nipple-clamps in place, because he gave a grunt of satisfaction. I was trembling now, not because of the cold, although it was chilly in the basement, but because I knew he was going to hurt me much more than the cruel clamps did, even though their tightness tortured my poor nipples.

'Now Katherine, I need to whip you. I have chosen the coach whip, as it will sting terribly, but will only leave your lovely skin prettily marked for a little while. Look!'

He held the long leather thong furled in his hand, and let me study it. My trembling became a visible shudder.

'I think twenty strokes will be enough for the first time, darling, don't you?'

'Yes, s-sir,' I managed to stammer, as he stood back and gave a swish through the air with the long whip. It cracked as he flicked his wrist.

He walked around behind me, and I heard the rush of air as he wielded the whip – and, nothing! I realised he was trying out his swing, and wondered for a brief moment if he was bluffing. But then there was a whistling noise as the lash flew, and I felt the awful sting as I got my first whip-stroke, just below my shoulder blades. I cried out.

'Keep quiet!' he ordered me, 'or I'll gag you.'

I didn't want to be gagged, so I bit my lip as the second vicious stroke landed, a shade lower, but I couldn't help writhing under the awful agony the whip was visiting on me.

When the third blow landed, I saw the tiny knot at the end of the thong as it snaked around just under my left breast, and instantly raised a vivid red spot on my white flesh

I soon learned to accept the rhythm with which he was inflicting the pain on me, and to concentrate on the fact that I was pleasing my new master.

When he had given me ten, he came up to me, taking a mirror from the nearby table, He held it up for me to look over me shoulder, and I saw that my back was, indeed, prettily ladder-marked with stripes that would soon go away.

'Are you ready for the rest?' he asked, and I heard myself say, 'Yes, master!' It was the first time I had called him that, and it sounded somehow better than 'sir.'

He concentrated on my tender lower back for the second half of the punishment, and I could scarcely believe it when the pain started to mingle – to mingle with something I had read about, but didn't think possible. I was taking pleasure in the whipping, even though the pain was almost unbearable, and a warm wetness was evident in my pussy. Somewhere around stroke sixteen, as I squirmed under the lash, I rubbed my legs together, desperate for some way of massaging my clit, feeling the soreness of my nipples like an exquisite bolt of thrilling ecstasy, then, on the next cruel stroke, I came, my eyes closed, as my scream rent the air.

He knew – my master knew I had cum, and threw down his whip, even though I was a few strokes short. As he came up and unclipped me, I felt a huge erection against my buttocks. I reached into his pyjamas, took his long prick in my hand and gave him just two or three pumps before he came, in a great hot stream, over my skirt.

'Sleep with me tonight, darling Katherine,' he said, and I would have died for him if he had asked me.

We made love twice before we slept that night. Both times he took me tenderly, gently, like a young lover, sliding his rod into my wet cunt, then playing me like he might play a fish on the end of his line, pulling me in to the brink of an orgasm, then letting me subside, stilling himself as I gripped his tool with my cunt-muscles. Then he would start again, rhythmically driving in and out, in and out, until I could hold off no longer, and dug my nails into his back, screaming with passion as my shuddering climax came.

When I awoke next morning, he was watching me.

'Don't move!' he said, as he got out of bed and slipped a robe on. He left the room, and was gone a few minutes. When he returned, he was leading Teresa by the hand, still in the short slip she wore to bed. He pulled her onto the bed between us, and I knew what to do. I licked her sweet pussy, getting her ready for my master, so that when he finally entered her, his long prick drove in up to the very hilt. Then I kissed her while Lars fucked her, his finger hard up my asshole as he did so.

When he came, I did so too, and, at that moment, thought I had never been so happy in all my life.

'I will probably want to continue your training this evening, my dear,' he said, as he dressed, 'until then, get some rest!'

The future, I thought, held much promise.