The Birthday Party Ch. 01

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Kathryn's mentor makes an interesting request.
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Part 2 of the 4 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 03/21/2013
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cora852
cora852
13 Followers

What a sight to behold. His torso was lined with clothespins and the pressure from the long amount of time they had been held there was causing the skin around them to become very red. I was standing in front of him holding the end of the strings that would pull them off collectively and was gently tugging on them to make the end of the clothespins move slightly...not much at all, really...but it was enough to make him wince.

He was breathing very heavily. Beads of sweat formed around his brow and he refused to look at me. His bound hands struggled against the steel shackles holding him in place to the St. Andrew's Cross he was displayed on.

"Please, Ma'am," he whispered. "Please, please, please..."

"Please, Mr. Birch? You know your pleas hold no bearing to me. ...and while I do appreciate your begging and pleading, it won't help you." I was trying not to laugh but I was definitely smiling. I was masked as usual so he couldn't tell and I was grateful for the fact that my cheesy grin was hidden.

He exhaled sharply and looked as if he was about to cry. Martin Birch had been coming to see me every Wednesday for about five years now. He was a recovering alcoholic and found that, along with "normal" therapy which he had Wednesday mornings, he found that my kind of therapy Wednesday nights helped as well.

"Please, Ma'am, I can't do it!" he exclaimed.

"Yes you can...and you will. This isn't so bad, Mr. Birch. I could always whip them off for you. Would you like that?"

"Uhhhhhh.....no, Ma'am."

"I'll take them off for you but soon. I just want you to suffer a little bit longer for me. Do you know how happy you make me when you suffer like this?"

He just continued to writhe in pain. I resigned to be nice and prepared to take them off. Getting into a better stance, I wrapped the ends of the strings around my fingers and made a fist around them in order rip the clothespins off in one felled swoop...kind of like a Band-Aid.

"Okay, Mr. Birch. They're going to come off now because you've obviously suffered enough. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good boy. Okay, one...t..."

I couldn't even get the word "two" out of my mouth and, all of a sudden, the door to the dungeon flew open and in burst Marisa with the cordless phone in her hand. All bubbly and smiley as always, she said, "Mother! Phone call...."

Now, unfortunately, I was so inside my own head at that point, I turned around quickly and, forgetting the strings were still in my hand, inadvertently ripped off all the clothespins before I even got to "three." Mr. Birch yelped like a dog that just got hit by a bike and I turned back around, horrified that I had hurt him in the wrong way. He seemed just fine, though. Still, I had to make sure.

"Martin! Are you okay?"

He laughed and said, "What happened to three?"

I said, "What happened to two is more like it! ....I suppose that's one way to take them off, eh? Seriously, though, are you okay?"

He smiled sincerely and looked at me. "Yes, Kathryn, I'm fine. Thank you as always."

I sighed, relieved; however, I was furious at Marisa. I told Martin that I'd be right back and marched over to Marisa who was standing there, visibly frightened. She knew she fucked up.

So as to not let Martin hear our conversation, I forcefully grabbed Marisa's arm and yanked her out into the hallway and slammed the door shut. "What in GOD'S name do you think you're doing?" I whispered through clenched teeth. "You NEVER interrupt me during a session! Now look what you made me do! You know of Mr. Birch's condition. Our relationship is based on very serious trust and I just violated that."

"Mother, I..."

"No, you listen to me. If you EVER do that to me again, you're out of here. I don't care what I've told you or what I promised you. This isn't a game, Marisa. I don't think you know how seriously you fucked up just now."

"But..." she implored, her eyes welling up with tears.

"Yes, please. Tell me your excuse for barging in like that. I'd LOVE to know."

She sniffled and held up the phone. "It's Tristan Andrews."

My heart stopped beating. "Tristan?" I said in a hushed voice.

"Yes, Mother," said Marisa, fighting back the urge to burst into tears.

Marisa handed me the phone and I was staring at it for what seemed like hours. Snapping back to reality, I said, "Go take care of Martin. If he seems off in any sort of way, keep him here so we can talk. I...have to take this now."

Marisa nodded demurely and went back inside to take care of Martin. I felt like a child on Christmas morning waiting to see what presents await under the tree. I excitedly bounded up the stairs and went to my office. I shut and locked the door, sat down, removed my mask and tried to sound calm.

"Hello?"

A soft English voice came over the other end. "I've heard that you were a bit cruel at times but did that poor girl really deserve all that?"

I chuckled, embarrassed. "I...take it you heard all that. I'm so sorry."

"Not at all, Lisa. After all, you learned from the best. I just suppose I didn't realize that you had taken all my lessons so seriously."

"Well, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do."

Here's the abridged back story on Tristan Andrews...

Back when I was a second year law student, Seattle's richest and most eligible bachelor, Tristan Andrews, came to the university to give a seminar on corporate law and philanthropy. When he walked in the door, I remember being completely flustered at how incredibly handsome he was. He strode in with such grace and elegance. He's quite tall, standing at six foot four and he's very slender. He's just an all-around good-looking guy. Anyway, in the middle of his seminar, I guess he caught me staring at him and, when I realized that he was staring back at me, smiling, I quickly turned back to taking notes, all the while trying to hide my blushing cheeks. After a while, I glanced up at him again and he was still staring at me. That time, I smiled back.

Thinking nothing of it, after class, I gathered up my things and headed toward the library. I walked out the doorway leading to the quad and Tristan was there waiting. I stopped dead in my tracks. He gave me a half-cocked smile and sauntered over to me with the same amount of grace and effortlessness that caught my attention in the first place. He confidently asked me why I was staring at him and I told him I didn't know. I didn't want to seem like some gushy idiot so I just kept my tone very stern and to the point. He said that he had noticed something about me and wanted to have coffee to discuss it later. I didn't know why he wouldn't just tell me then and leave it alone. Hell, I don't even know why he bothered talking to me in the first place. Clearly, he knew how handsome he was, he's incredibly rich...I'm sure I wasn't the only girl who had been caught staring that day.

Later that evening, we met and sat down for coffee and he didn't really say anything to me for the first ten minutes or so. He was just sitting there looking at me...staring, judging, reading me inside and out. It was easily the most awkward meeting I've ever had and his intense stare was making me uncomfortable. I decided to try and break the ice.

"So...I...really enjoyed your lecture today. I didn't know you knew so much about corporate law."

I tried to gauge his reaction but he didn't say anything. He just sat there practically boring a hole into my soul with his deep, unbreakable gaze.

It seemed odd to me that he invited me out to talk to me about something and he wasn't saying a word but fine. If his idea of talking was sitting there making me feel uncomfortable, well...two can play that game. So, I sat back and stared right back at him with a coy smile on my face and an uplifted eyebrow as if to say "your turn." Suddenly, he put down his coffee, crossed his legs, leaned toward me and said, "Lisa."

"Yes, Mr. Andrews?"

"Tristan, please."

"Uh," I stammered, "okay...Tristan."

"You seem like a tough young woman, you know?"

"Um...thank you, I guess...I'm wound a little tight, I know," I said with a nervous laugh.

"Mmm," he said with a smile, "Yes, you are. Wound tight...stern...strict...dominant, even."

I laughed internally on that one. Dominant. Oh yes, Mr. Andrews. That I am. Oh hell, why not play along? "Dominant. Interesting choice of words. Do dominant women intimidate you, Tristan?"

He laughed. Of course he would laugh. Who could intimidate this man? "Oh no. Much the contrary, Lisa. They intrigue me...but why would a female who possesses the same characteristics as I do not leave me intrigued?"

"Same characteristics?"

"Dominance, Lisa. I noticed that about you right away. That's why I asked you to come have coffee with me. I can spot people like me...like us...a mile away. How much experience do you have?"

"Experience in what?"

"Playing, having a submissive, a slave...anything."

"Oh...god...none!" I giggled, nervously. "Well, I mean...you know...some things here and there but..." I trailed off. This was the first time I've ever really talked to anyone about any of this. It was always just my little secret and I wanted to keep it that way.

"Some things? Well, do go on. I'd love to know what you've been up to."

Oh lord. This guy wasn't going to let up. I sighed and crossed my arms tightly against my chest. "Well, you know, I kind of...sometimes tie...people...and, um...hit them...a little." Fuck, this was embarrassing.

"All right. Light bondage, some impact. Excellent. I can help you out, though, to be the best at what you do. Would you like to be trained?

I nearly spit out my coffee. "Trained? I don't understand."

"Please don't be coy, Ms. Townshend. It doesn't suit you. I've been in the game longer than you've been alive and I'd like to train someone, specifically you. You hold promise. What do you think?"

I don't know why I was so flustered. Maybe it's because that was always my big secret and for someone to see right through me like that really caught me off guard. "Mr. Andrews...Tristan...I don't... I mean...I don't....uh, I just..."

"Excellent! Here's my number. You are to be at my house at 8 PM tomorrow night and, to ensure that you aren't a minute late, I'll have you picked up." My jaw was practically on the floor and he simply reached across the table and brushed my cheek with his hand. With that, he laid down some money on the table and, without saying goodbye, walked out. It was all very abrupt but that was Tristan's style.

After I went to his house the next night, that was pretty much all she wrote. He ended up training me for about two years on everything there was to know about having a submissive, having slaves, training them and also about the ins and outs of bondage...knot-tying, different compound ties, double binds, tools to use...pretty much anything you could think of, he taught me. He also told me to reach inside myself and gain my own personal style. He taught me how to tap in to everything that turns me on, turns me off, my fetishes, visuals I find appealing and put it all together to create my own little world of perfection. After those two years, though, he brought all my ideas for my house together, funded it, wished me well and I hadn't heard from him since. That was ten years ago. Now, all of a sudden, I'm holding a phone in my hand with the almighty Tristan Andrews on the other line, seemingly back from the dead. Our conversation continued.

"No doubt, Lisa. Do what you must. Now, I have a bit of a proposal for you."

"Tristan, with all due respect, I haven't heard from you in ten years. Now, all of a sudden, you just call me up out of the blue? I mean....what happened to you? Why haven't you kept in touch?"

"My apologies, Lisa. I didn't really think about it to be honest but you've clearly been doing quite well for yourself. Honestly, when I went back to England, I didn't maintain contact with anyone in the States. Is everything all right?"

"Well, yeah, I just..."

"Excellent! Then back to what I was saying about my proposal. I need you for something, Lisa."

I was exasperated. "What could you possibly need me for?"

"Well, I'm turning 50 this year and I'm having a party to celebrate both my birthday and my return to Seattle and you, my dear, are going to be my guest of honor."

"Tristan, I'm not the D.A. anymore. I would have no business there."

"Oh but you're not going as the D. A. You're just going."

Insufferable. "I would love to come but I'm really busy and I don't think..."

"As my birthday present."

I stopped, confused. "What?"

"Honestly, Lisa, pay attention. You will attend my birthday party as my birthday present."

"I'm...your present?"

"Yes. Do you accept?"

Sarcastically, I said, "What am I gonna do, pop out of a cardboard cake?"

"Hilarious, Lisa. I'm simply dying of laughter. Now, if you would please take me seriously, I really want you to do this for me."

"Well, what do you mean 'your present?' It doesn't sound very good."

"We can discuss specifics later tonight at my home. Does 7:00 sound reasonable?"

"Well, I'd have to ch..."

"Excellent," he interjected. "I'll send a car to pick you up at 6:30. See you tonight."

"Tristan, honestly! ...Tristan? Hello?!" He hung up on me! Ohh that man pisses me off sometimes. Obviously I had no say in this whatsoever so I guess I was going to meet him tonight. All of that would have to wait for a while, though. I had more important things to take care of.

Back downstairs, I found Marisa and Elise in the parlour. They both looked up at me. Marisa had been crying and Elise looked pissed.

"Uh, Elise could you...leave us please?"

If looks could kill, I would have been dead on the ground. She just nodded and got up from the couch. She put her hand on Marisa's shoulder and smiled down at her. Marisa smiled back and looked down. I sat down next to her and put my hand on her knee. She sort of turned away but caught herself. She probably thought that would make me even more upset but I wasn't upset. I was here to apologize.

"Marisa, earlier when..."

She cut me off. "Mother, I am SO sorry. You were right. I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't thinking! It's just that it was Tristan and I know how much he means to you and..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down, sweetie. Calm down. Just listen to me. Earlier when you entered the dungeon, I overreacted and I was very disrespectful to you and I am the one that is sorry. I didn't mean to be so rude to you. It was just that it happened at a very bad moment and it just happened to be with Mr. Birch and he is in a very fragile state right now. We both just need to be a little more careful from now on, all right?"

She smiled and nodded. "Okay," she said. I wiped away a tear from her cheek and I knew we were good.

"Now, was everything fine with Martin when I left?"

"Oh yes. He said it was as good a time as ever and he can't wait until next week!"

I sighed heavily. "Oh thank God. Well, that's one less thing I have to worry about. Okay. I have an involuntary appointment tonight so can you handle the house while I'm gone?"

Marisa looked at me, confused. "Involuntary appointment? Ohh...heh! Mr. Andrews?"

I rolled my eyes. "You guessed it. Anyway, if I have any clients tonight just call them with my sincere apologies and re-schedule if they'd like. Otherwise, you got this?"

"I'm good!" she said. I smiled. "Yes, you are, dear. Okay! Wish me luck!" With that, I got up from the couch and slowly climbed the stairs to my room.

Once inside, I locked the door, ripped my mask off my face, threw it on the floor and flopped down on the bed. "Uhhhhhh what the fuuuuck?!" I shouted. I loved Tristan to death but this whole "I want you to be my present" scenario was bothering me. I tried to think about it from my end. If I said that to someone, I would mean that they would be my piece of property for the night. So, if that's what he means, I don't think I'm up for it. I'm a Domme, for Christ's sake. I can't just shut that part of me off. I guess if he wanted me to attend his party as Kathryn, that would be fine. I was hoping that was what he meant, anyway.

* * *

It was about 6:15 and I was just doing finishing touches on my makeup. I thought I looked pretty good. I was wearing a black chiffon dress that fell just above my knees, a string of white freshwater pearls, some very cute black peep-toe heels with a bow on the front, my hair was curled and pinned back on one side, my eyes were their signature black and I chose a nice dark burgundy to accent my lips. Since it had been so long since I had seen Tristan, I wanted to look my best. I grabbed a white satin clutch purse and put on my short black trench coat. One last pass by the mirror and I was out the back door.

Sure enough, there was a black limousine in the front of the house and the driver was waiting outside. I smiled warmly at him and he back at me. "Ms. Townshend?" he said.

"That's me."

"Good evening, Ma'am. Forgive the intrusion but...why are you here?"

"Excuse me?" I said.

"Well, I mean, you're the D. A....or you were. What are you doing there?" He nodded toward the house.

Shit! "Um, the...lady who runs the place needed...some...legal advice." I scrunched up my face. I am a terrible liar.

"Oh! Very well. After you." He bought it! ...or at least, I hope he did. He opened the back door for me and I hurriedly went inside. Feeling my heart finally leave my throat, I buckled in. Very cute, Tristan. Next time, I'll drive myself.

Thirty minutes later, I arrived outside Tristan's palatial estate. It was just as I had remembered it all those years ago. It looked more like an L. A. mission-style mansion, which is odd for Seattle but that was Tristan...always the one to stand out above the rest. As if being a billionaire wasn't enough, he always had to go one step beyond reason. I got out of the car and shut the door. As the limo pulled away, I started my trek up the large, limestone stairs that led to the top of the hill where his house was. Finally at the top, I was greeted by a large, gray stone fountain in the middle of a circular driveway that made a loop in front of his house. There were perfectly-manicured hedges all around. I felt like Maria in the Sound of Music the first time she was going to meet Captain Von Trapp.

I made it to the large heavy wooden door and was just about to ring the doorbell when the door flew open and Tristan was standing there with a huge grin. "Lisa," he said with hushed excitement.

"Hello, Tristan," I said. I was less enthusiastic than he was because I knew that he had something up his sleeve. There was just something about this whole "present" thing that was not sitting right with me. I couldn't wait for him to divulge his plans.

"Oh, you look absolutely stunning. Please come inside. We'll go to the living room. Would you care for a drink? Malbec, right?"

Oh...he remembered my favorite wine. "Uh...yeah! Sure! Sounds great. Thank you."

I followed him inside down a long and very open hallway and we made a right at the end. It led to a very large yet very cozy looking living room. He had a white overstuffed sofa facing a large fireplace with a flat-screen TV mounted over it and two lounge chairs to match on either side of a cherry wood coffee table right in the middle. I sat down on the sofa and he went to the bar to pour the wine. He returned quickly and sat down facing me with the same goofy grin on his face.

"To you," he said, raising his glass.

"Mhmm," I said, clinking my glass against his. The malbec was delicious but it wasn't wine I was craving. It was information. "Tristan, please tell me what all this is about. It's killing me."

His eyes--the stormy blue color of the North Pacific--met mine as his took a sip and he slowly swallowed and set his glass down. "To business then, yes?"

cora852
cora852
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