Alan Ch. 25

"What happened to her?" Kate asked in horror.

Alan turned to her and locked his eyes to hers. He stepped forward as she collapsed towards him, and he caught her before she fell.

"Pleasant dreams, ladies," he chuckled as he nudged Jenna aside to make room next to her for Kate on the narrow dorm room bed.

* * *

Jenna opened her eyes, scared by her unfamiliar surroundings, and by the fact that she was naked. The torch on the stone wall cast dim light through the dungeon. She tried to get up and look around but she was shackled to the damp wall by her wrists, flat on her back, reposed on a straw mat; it was itchy on her soft skin.

She started as she heard the door to the cell open with a rusty squeak and tilted her head as far as her stiff leather collar would allow. Through the bars she could see Alan, his hand moving the barred opening over to the side, allowing his entrance. Once the cell was open she strained against her bonds, trying with all her might to free herself, but it was useless. Through teary eyes she saw him watching him from the entrance. He had made no move to enter. He was laughing at her, a soft yet powerful sort of chuckle, and it sent chills running up and down her spine.

"W-what are you doing--"

"Silence, slave," he boomed.

Her mouth closed in mid sentence, and she looked away from him in fear.

She heard him take a few steps into the room, but she refused to look up.

"Look at me, slave."

His voice was so powerful, and she was unable to remain defiant. Her body was wracked with the shivers as she looked upon him. He was chilling to behold. He was dressed in black, from top to bottom, his boots, pants and jacket leather, a fabric shirt under the jacket. Suddenly he was leaning over her, and she felt him fiddle at her wrists, releasing her from the wall.

Her first thought was to fight, to knock him down and run away, but she was unresisting as he pulled her up and spun her around. He clipped the wrist cuffs together and spun her back.

Her eyes were glued to the floor, well, as much as the uncomfortable collar would allow. She felt his hand on her neck, and he played with the collar for a few seconds before cupping her chin and forcing her gaze upwards. She gasped as she saw his face clearly for the first time. The light of the torch reflected off his gentle eyes, but she felt the power that was emanating from them.

"Do you know why you're here, slave?" he grunted.

"No, Alan, I don't. P-p-please let me go," she sobbed.

She squeaked as he swatted her bottom.

"I am your master, and you will address me as such."

She tried to spit in his face, but she was restrained by fear.

"Do you know why you're here, slave?"

"No. LET ME OUT OF HERE RIGH--" Slap, harder this time. "N-no, Master."

"You've been naughty." He placed his palm flat against her forehead and a stream of words and images swam through her mind, the scenes of this afternoon and evening played like a movie through her brain. A tear escaped and slid slowly down her cheek.

He unshackled her with his free hand.

"I'm sorry," she cried, understanding filling her. She was wrong. Her Master had shown her that. She felt an overwhelming need to repent. Master's hand skimmed up her head to the top, and he took her by her hair; it hurt a little, but she knew she deserved it. He pushed her to her knees.

CLIP CLOP CLIP CLOP. Footsteps approaching. Her terror returned.

* * *

Kate stood at the entrance of the cell, a little disoriented. She was in a dungeon, torches lining the hall as she had passed a series of empty cells on each side. It sort of reminded her of her dorm, both from the smallness of the rooms, and the same distance between each door. She could see that the last cell on the right was open, and she made her way there, though she couldn't say why. As she entered she saw Alan and Jenna. He was clad in black and she was naked. Kate smiled, a wicked look on her face. Right then she noticed her own attire. Like Alan she was in all black, all leather in her case. Her boots were knee high, four-inch heels. She wore a bustier and black leather panties. There was a riding crop in her right hand which she hadn't previously noted.

"Mistress Kate, so glad you could join me," he said, not turning to greet her. Kate fell into her role in an instant.

"A pleasure, Master Alan. Has this one been naughty?"

"Indeed, indeed. In deeds and words, Mistress Kate, she has been very naughty."

Jenna moaned in despair, and to her alarm, arousal. She could feel moisture at her cleft, a bead of her feminine nectar dripping down her inner thigh. Alan took one step to the side, and Jenna gasped at the sight of Mistress Kate.

"Hmmm, Master Alan," she said in a thoughtful tone, "Be so kind as to remind me what we do to naughty slaves."

"Tell us, slave, what do we do to naughty slaves?"

"I don't know," she said morosely. Alan leaned over and slapped her on her butt again, this time harder than the last. She yelped at the sting. "I don't know, Master," she whispered, her voice bursting with fright.

"Mistress Kate, please be so kind as to tell this little slave what we do to naughty slaves."

"It would be my pleasure, Master Alan." She strode with confidence to the cowering blonde girl and hoisted her to her feet. In her high heels she towered over the shivering slave, when without the shoes they would have been roughly the same stature. Jenna shivered when Kate cupped her chin just as Alan had, and she looked up into the raven-haired girls eyes as her whole being shook in fear. Though Kate was looking right at her, the answer was directed at him. "We punish them, Master Alan, we punish naughty slaves so they wont be naughty anymore."

* * *

Though hoping against hope that this nightmare would end this instant, Jenna resigned herself to her fate. She watch in horror as Alan ("Shit, Master Alan, Master Alan, Mistress Kate, Mistress Kate," she drummed into her own mind, hoping to avoid another smack on her ass) pulled a leash from the pocket of his leather jacket, handing it to Mistress Kate. She heard a click and realized that the leash was now attached to her collar, and she offered no struggle as she was dragged across the stone floor to the other side of the room. She allowed herself to be bound to a leather upholstered sawhorse, her cuffs fastened to opposite ends of the horse, her leash wrapped around the crossbar so that there was less than two inches of slack from her collar.

She could hear them behind her, feel the breeze caused by the air being displaced by their movements. Neither of her tormentors spoke, nor did they touch her, but she could hear their footfalls nonetheless, preparing something.

Suddenly Alan stood before her, his groin inches from her face, the smell of his leather tickling her nose. He fiddled with the leash and she felt more slack come to her leash as he held her head between his powerful hands, lifting her view to him. His eyes were scary with determination.

"I want you to count each one," he said in that quiet and commanding tone of his. She betrayed no reaction, not quite understanding what was about to happen to her, not quite knowing exactly what was expected of her.

* * *

With a start Kate realized she was gripping a paddle in her right hand. I was padded with calf leather, and she stroked the fingertips of her left hand over the surface of it. The handle was walnut, and she thought the piece was beautiful as she admired it in the flickering torchlight. She felt his eyes on her and looked his way.

"Now," he said sternly.

Kate struck Jenna, the blow slapping across her cheeks. Jenna screamed, though louder than she should have considering the force of the smack Kate had dealt her.

"Count it," he ordered the bound girl.

"Why are you doing this?" she sniffled once she was able to deal with the pain.

"Now," he repeated. A replay.

"Please," the blonde girl cried. "I'm sorry! I-I-I'm a liar! I admit it!" she bawled. "Kate, please don't do this to me. I lied! I came on to him! I admit it! I admit it! Please!"

"Again!" Smack. "Count it."

"Three," she whimpered, her face wet with tears.

"No, little slave. No. That was one."

"NO!" she screeched. "That was three. She hit me three times! Please."

"Count it, slave. That was one. If you don't count it, it doesn't count," Kate said, and even though Jenna couldn't see her, she could almost visualize Kate sneering at her.

"One."

Her head was yanked up by her blonde mane, and she shook in terror as she saw Kate before her, Alan having taken a short step aside. The paddle was right in front of her face, just below the eye level, and she whined, fearing Kate was about to hit her in the mouth.

"Kiss it," the black-haired girl commanded, "Kiss it and thank me for punishing you, you worthless little lying slave."

"Thank you Mistress Kate for punishing this worthless little slave liar," she moaned as she showered the shiny leather of the instrument of her torment with little kisses. She moaned again as Kate retreated to the position behind her, steeling herself for another blow.

"Two!" she screamed out, her ass afire in pain. "Thank you Mistress Kate for punishing this lying slave," she sobbed. Kate held the paddle before her once more, and she worshipped it with her trembling lips.

"Three! Thank you Mistress Kate..."

"Four! Thank you Mistress Kate..."

"FIVE! Oh my GOD!"

The bound coed trembled as ecstasy consumed her. Her body convulsed and she thrashed against her bonds. Her pussy spurted girl come and she felt both her inner thighs soaked, almost to the knees.

A sinful smile spread across Kate's face.

Jenna felt weak. Her tremors had not yet subsided, yet she felt her arousal accelerate again. As she gathered her wits about her she realized that someone was playing with her pussy, dragging their fingers through her silky blonde pubic hair and rubbing their fingers against her dripping slit. Her eyes shot open and she saw Alan still standing in front of her, so by simple process of elimination it was Kate diddling her. Just the thought of it made her want to vomit, but her body was betraying her, and she felt unable to control her reactions, wiggling her butt against Kate's probing fingers.

"Uh, ugh UGH UHUHUHUH!" she screamed, her voice echoing off the stone walls of her cell as she approached her peak. Kate withdrew her hand and Jenna slumped against the hide cover of the sawhorse, whimpering in frustration.

"Did she thank me for number five?" Kate asked with an arched eyebrow.

"No, Mistress Kate, she most certainly did not."

Black leather obscured her vision as she was at last able to pry her eyelids open. Without bidding her kissed it, slobbering all over the smooth surface. "Thank you, Mistress Kate," she hissed between kisses.

"Why are you thanking her, little lying slave?" Alan asked, his voice hard.

"For punishing me, Master Alan."

"And why are you being punished, slave?" Kate asked, gripping her by the hair to look her in the face.

"B-b-b-because I've been bad," she said with a gulp. Salty tears slid down her pretty face and into her mouth, her mouth she was unable to close to her continued panting.

"And how was it that you were bad, slave?" Alan asked quietly.

"I was going to accuse you of rape, and Mistress Kate of being a lesbian," she whimpered.

"So being a lesbian is an accusation?" Kate asked the bound girl, outrage clear in her tone.

"It's disgusting," she whined, quickly adding, "Mistress Kate." She opened her eyes as she heard them move about her. Before she knew what was happening each of them were unlocking her wrists. She felt like a used-up rag doll, unresisting as they each took one of her arms and led her a few steps away from the sawhorse. In mere seconds she was on her hands and knees on the damp stone floor of the dungeon, each wrist anchored to a peg set in the floor. Alan put similar cuffs on her ankles, and she offered no opposition as he attached these to another pair of pegs.

* * *

Alan decided to awaken Kate first. She was confused and disoriented, but he used his powers to allay her concerns. He instructed her to retrieve her gear from the closet and don the dominatrix outfit. She was excited, never having an opportunity to wear it as yet. Together they undressed the unconscious blonde, and Alan let Kate have the honor of snapping the collar closed around Jenna's neck. The split duties when it came time to put the cuffs on her, Alan handling the ankle set, Kate the wrists.

* * *

The room began to change subtly as she scanned around. The walls became less blurry. As she looked up at Alan she noticed over his shoulder that a poster of Rene Magritte's "The Betrayal of Images" was tacked to the stone wall. Jenna found that curious, because the same poster, a painting of a pipe with the legend "Ceci n'est pas une pipe" scripted at the bottom, also hung on Kate's wall, right over her desk. The lines between this dream and reality were smudging, and it was starting to make her even more upset.

As these disturbing thoughts coursed through her brain she abruptly realized that the scene was continuing to shift; no longer, she realized, was she bound to pegs on the floor. The walls surrounding her were still wet stone, but she was now half on a bed, her wrist cuffs clamped to the metal frame. The bed was identical to the one she slept in, and she was startled to comprehend that she was now bound to Kate's.

She blinked. The walls changed.

She blinked. The torches were gone, the room now illuminated by the overhead lights and the lamp on Kate's desk.

She blinked again. All trace of the dungeon was gone. She was in Kate's room, she was sure. It had been a dream.

She sighed in relief and closed her eyes, happy the nightmare was over.

"So, my little lying slave, you are awake?"

The shock of hearing those words jolted her and she tried to stand up. To her horror she realized she really was tied to the bed. She was naked. She felt a collar around her neck, and she could feel the leash resting centered on her back. She tried to shift position, rattling the cuffs on her wrists against the bed frame. Her knees dug into the bare floor, and she could feel the moisture drip slowly down her inner thighs.

Her ass hurt, like she had been--"Ohmigod! NO!" her mind screamed "It was just a dream. This can't be true! This cannot be happening!"--spanked. She wriggled in her bonds, her chest rubbing against the bedspread. The coolness of the room was soothing against the overwarm skin on her butt. Kate walked into her line of vision, and she gasped as she saw Kate was wearing the dungeon apparel like in the dream.

"Please just let this be more of the dream," she thought.

"If you will it, it is no dream," Alan said from behind her.

She was shocked, it was like he could read her mind! She tried to kick back at him, but to her dread she realized that her ankles were shackled as well, the bond connected to each other by a short length of chain. (She figured this out by the tinkling sound made when she tried to attack him.)

"What did you say?" Jenna asked, bewildered.

"If you will it, it is no dream," he repeated.

Kate arched her eyebrows, amused. She came over to him and whispered, "What in god's name are you chattering about?"

"It's a line from a movie. The Big Lebowski."

She giggled.

Jenna shivered despite the warmth of the room. Alan picked up the paddle from the desk, and Jenna flinched when she felt him rub it over the flesh of her ass.

"P-please," she begged.

"Why are you being punished?" Kate asked, her voice sharp.

"Please," she cried.

"Master Alan," Kate said, nodding towards Jenna's upturned butt.

SMACK.

"Why are you being punished?" she repeated.

"Be-because I was bad," she whimpered.

"And what happens to little slaves who've been bad?"

"They get punished, Mistress Kate, they get spanked."

SMACK.

She gasped aloud at the sting but she could feel her slit moistening again, droplets wetting her thighs.

"Thank your Master," Kate instructed. "Thank him for taking the time and trouble to punish you, you little liar."

"Thank, ah ah ah, you," she gasped out as she trembled.

"How many more, do you think, Mistress Kate?" Alan asked through his grin.

She shared his smile while she considered the situation. "Hmmm, well she has been bad, hasn't she?" Jenna quivered as Kate debated with herself. "Hmm, but it's just her first time, so I figure two more. Sound about right?"

Kate ordered Jenna to count off the two remaining swats and thank her Master for both, and she complied. After that Kate released Jenna from the shackles, rubbing her wrists and ankles to help get the circulation flowing. When at last she was free Jenna dropped to her knees and hugged Kate around her waist, crying and thanking her new Mistress. Kate stroked the girl's hair gently, consoling as the blonde got the shakes out of her system.

"It's going to be OK, little slave, I promise," Kate assured, and Jenna looked up at her with a look an admixture of fear, arousal, joy, and submission. Kate pulled her up and sat her on the bed, allowing her to use a small blanket around her shoulders to keep the shivers away, and Jenna was profoundly grateful.

"Where are my clothes?"

Kate took her by the chin and kissed her lightly on her lips. "Don't worry your pretty little head about that, little slave," Kate assured, kissing her again.

And she didn't.

She could hear Alan move about the room, doing things, but she didn't have the will to raise her eyes, which were fast on her hands folded in her lap, to see what he was doing. He had obviously turned on the heat, because she felt the room warm, and heard the rattle and hum of the unit kicking to life. Still, she shivered slightly. Kate held her tight, her arm slipping under the small blanket, and if Jenna had the energy to be startled by anything she would have been startled to realize that she was enjoying the touch of the dominant girl; she purred quietly as Kate massaged her.

"Are you OK, hon?" Kate asked, her mouth inches from Jenna's ear.

The blonde nodded, and Kate repositioned them so that Jenna was on her lap and she herself was half-reclined against her pillows, her hands lightly caressing Jenna's belly and hips. "She has a really nice body," Kate judged. Jenna was firm of flesh with small perky breasts. Her stomach was flat, and her body tight, unlike Kate's own curvy form. The blonde shivered as Kate lazily stroked her flesh.

She recoiled slightly, fearful as Alan sat at the edge of the bed right before her, and began to tremble as she watched him place a hand on her knee; the leather paddle rested across his lap, and she stared at it with immense dread. Kate took this as a signal to continue, and Jenna gasped when she felt Kate's fingers ruffle through her golden thatch. Her head began to shake as Kate masturbated her, signaling her objection to this handling, and she fought the pleasurable sensations in order to speak.

"No!" she hissed, "P-p-please Kate. Don't do that."

"Doesn't it feel good?" Kate whispered, her mouth less than an inch from the trembling girl's ear. She gave it a slow lick around the perimeter for punctuation.

"It's wrong. It's wrong." Jenna cried as she bucked to and fro, trying to shake herself loose from Kate's soft embrace. In response Kate tightened her arms around Jenna, and her free hand seized one of the girl's nipples, pinching it hard.

"Ow! Shit! That hurts!" she cried as Kate began to twist the nipple. The hand massaging her pussy picked up speed, and despite the discomfort of her chest her arousal accelerated.

"Kate, please, stop tha--"

The hand at her pussy shot up and now Kate began abusing both her breasts, and the pain silenced her long enough for Kate to speak. "That's three times, just now, Slave Jenna, that you have failed to address me by my proper title."