Beaudry's Realization

Pensive Beaudry, Punished.

Beaudry was a little startled when she ran into Arline Zanotti on the corner of Nestertchouk and Colonel T. Varnum Buttermilk Circle.

Arli had gained a good fifteen pounds but the cheap glitter lip gloss and the smirking pouty mouth was so familiar...and the grotesque beehive hairdo.

"Arli, how-how nice to see you."

Arli smiled. "Is it?" Then, seeing Beaudry's face fall, she patted Beaudry on the arm. "I'm just joshin' sweetie, Hop you're doin' okay. This near your job an' all that?"

"More near my house." Beaudry said with a bit of a pained smile. She wasn't crazy about seeing Arline, but Beaudry knew she had to be polite.

God, the woman shouldn't be wearing such a tight top, must be bands of steel holding those jugs up. Beaudry had seen Arli naked, and those boobs fell practically to the knees.

Erielle, Beaudry's assistant crossed the street behind them and wrinkled her nose at Beaudry like...who's the dirtbag?

Beaudry was Vice President of Web Development at her firm, and Arline was what, a waitress?

Funnily, Arline seemed to be reading Beaudry's mind.

"Yeah, I'm still at the Oil-Burner. Y'all don't seem to come in there no more." Of course Arline knew why.

"Well, after you and Preston--you know, decided to live together without me--" When you threw me out in the front yard of the house I'd paid for, naked with a dog collar in the rain-"Well it seemed prudent to avoid--"

Beaudry coughed. "I didn't want us to be uncomfortable.

I did enjoy the Oil-Burner's T-bone steaks--" Except when you served them to me with cigarette butts sticking out of them--"but I'm vegan now. And of course I've given up gluten."

Remember when Arli and that other waitress Cerise tied me up in the back room of the Oil Burner and shoved hot meatballs up my twat?

I'm a big deal. I have a window office in the Bethencourt Building and this ridiculous sow of a waitress is effing with my head.

Look, Tyrmand The Vermin, our grossest mail clerk is smoking on the corner, sneering, probably thinking that Arli is spare-changing me.

So why don't I just spin on my high heel and walk away?

I can't be afraid of this silly old bitch, Beaudry reflected. Just yesterday I was instrumental in assisting with the corporate takeover of the Knestout conglomerate...and that was out of my expertise, being a computer scientist. But I'm tough and brilliant, my bosses tell me so every day...

But Beaudry could see the old contempt in Arli's eyes, beneath that horribly vulgar Seventies applied shadow.

Beaudry remembered how Arli's eyes would gleam as she'd order Beaudry to shave her crotch and then forced her to stand, hands on her head as Arli pulled the stray hairs out as Preston roared with laughter.

"Didja ever get rid of them pockmarks on your back thighs, honey?" Arline asked helpfully, her double chin bouncing with humor. "I think plastic surgery could help."

Beaudry looked at her feet. Stop this. It's been nearly eight years since you were licking t his bitch's oversized, smelly twat, sucking her bloody tampons and being kicked around by her and your supposedly loving husband.

Why do I feel ridiculous around this woman? I've won the Schmalzbauer Award, the highest tech honor given by the Buttermilk Falls Design Committee. I head volunteer groups, am a senior warden in my church, and I'm in damned fabulous shape.

Sure, that bitch Spruill Edrine, sneers at me because after I beat her in the 2012 racquetball tournaments at the Club, Arli made me bend over for a racquet whipping from Spruill and then I had to go down on her in the locker room.

And then was forced to blow Neuwirth Miggs, the creepy locker room attendant, oh that had been a banner afternoon. I think Neuwirth had crotch fleas.

But I moved my schedule to Tuesday and Friday workouts, when Spruill's not there.

I've made my way up in Buttermilk Falls Society, what there is of it...moved to Swithenbank Square, the ritziest neighborhood in all Buttermilk Falls.

Beaudry thought of this rapidly. It was a long way from being daughter of loser Pollard Polinger, a bookie-slash-rodeo clown-lead singer of "Broken Fishbowl"(and then less successfully back up roadie for the "Neon Nomads" and "Datin' Satan")

After her Dad's O.D., Beaudry had quit her hometown, Stennheiser, the sinkhole of the area, to take a scholarship at Buttermilk Falls Teacher's College, it was on the other side of the state, and Beaudry had been grateful for that.

Beaudry had gotten out of poverty. Had Arline?

Arli probably lives in the Buttermilk Narrows STILL. She did the last time I Googled her. She had this roomie in her Facebook profile, sort of a sad looking chick called "Claveau" and I could tell by Clav's earring that she was a member of the Paincafe's Thumbscrew Society.

Claveau looked to be a quivering submissive...I began diddling myself and feeling so envious. Dr. Aurelian suggested shocking myself every time I wanted to fantasize, but of course that excited me even more.

Beaudry ruminated...

What did this cow have over Beaudry? Was it a sickness, masochism?

This had been a problem for Beaudry even before she'd married Master Preston and then encountered his cruel assistant Arline.

In college, Beaudry's sorority sister Elice had been quite a sadistic bitch. "You didn't iron my blouse, Beaudie Bitch-let. Take down your panties and bring me the carpet beater."

But even when Elice was leaving Beaudry alone, Beaudry would seek her out--insult Elice, provoke her.

And Elice had certainly returned the favor, ensuring that Beaudry serve as a bullied pledge long after her fellow pledges had become full fledged Kappa Psi sisters.

Indeed, for four full years Elice, a frosty blonde, had encouraged new pledges to take turns whipping Beaudry's poor buttocks and making the full fledged sisters serve them, nude and weeping!

And, Beaudry had gone through a sub period. After the divorce she'd seen Lady Zeitlin, who casually would burn little rings on the inside of Beaudry's thigh with her car cigarette lighter.

Zeit had known how to make Beaudry collapse with masochistic joy.

So could she really blame Preston and Arline that much? Initially, even before the honeymoon, Beaudry had asked Preston to spank and dominate her, and when she'd discovered Pres couldn't keep it in his pants, she'd asked him to bring the girls home.

In an unguarded moment, Preston had discovered that there was nothing more erotically humiliating for his wife than being forced to serve the girls he cheated on her with.

Especially if the said women were quite low class and vulgar.

And it had turned out that Arline had quite the fertile imagination.

Beaudry recalled how Arlie had brought her daughters over, pouting sluts in their early twenties, and the girls, roaring with laughter had shoved an imitation horse tail up Beaudry's ass.

What were their names? Alayna and Velissa and Soleil, and how they seemed to hate Beaudry!

Arline had discovered that Beaudry had been employing an intern at work, teaching her about the world of web design.

Tamblyn was a sweet girl, blown away by Beaudry's intellect, and so flattered that the older woman was grooming her for better things at the company.

But Tamblyn had a bit of dysmorphia or dysgraphia, and had really had a tough learning curve, and Beaudry hadn't always been as patient as she could be, and then Arli had taken Tamblyn to lunch and stoked the fires of resentment.

What fun it had been when Beaudry had been forced to strip and grovel in front of Tamblyn. Simmering with resentment, Tam had taken up Beaudry's training with alacrity.

Tamblyn had used a peashooter and bits of gravel from Beaudry's driveway to make Beaudry dance as it had stung, as the angry girl had shot at Beaudry's sagging breasts and along her tender thighs....

And Beaudry had happily frigged herself as she'd reflected on the humiliation and betrayal later on!

For the entirety of Tam's employment with Beaudry, things had been a little lively at Beaudry's job.

Bare-bottom whippings in the copy room, being threatened with the paper cutter--sometimes when Tam was working industriously at her desk, the big boss was underneath it, licking Tamblyn out!

(It was really the best way to keep the girl focused, Beaudry realized later...)

And, although it had been quite a harrowing time, Beaudry had been sad when Tam had left the company, eloping as she did with the Comptroller, who had happened upon Beaudry getting an enema in the coffee room.

Instead of firing them both, the Comptroller had confessed to Tammi that he wore adult diapers and needed her assistance in a 20 year toilet training...

So, Beaudry had spent years after leaving Pres and Arli thinking about what had happened, sometimes late at night with her vibrator, after Dahl, her new and very loving hubby had fallen asleep beside her.

Beaudry's therapist, Dr. Aurelian considered this a "slip" and said Beaudry should focus on decent, caring Dahl when she fantasized, or better, just throw the damn vibrator out.

Beaudry hadn't mentioned to her doc that when tweaked herself, she also enjoyed hot candle wax down there, and twisting clothespins...Oh God.

And Beaudry had met a wonderful second husband, Dahl Lindegren.

Dahl was so different from Preston, Beaudry's first husband, who had responded to her need to be enslaved with alacrity, and then furthered her subjugation and humiliation by having his rotund mistress Arli dominate her further.

Dahl was a lot better looking than Pres, and he was more successful as well. Dahl was kind and supportive, he brought her little gifts, that sort of thing. Dahl was also innovative in bed, though not in the peculiar ways that had shadowed much of Beaudry's life.

"Why would I want to hurt you, darling?" Dahl had asked once, when she'd timidly requested a spanking. And of course that made a lot of sense.

Dahl brought Beaudry little gifts, and impulsively sent her flowers at work. They shared cultural interests, went backpacking in Tibet, spent summers in Tuscany, where Dahl had a nice cottage.

They did Christmases at a chalet in Switzerland, and loved skiing and snowboarding together. And, when Beaudry didn't feel like lovemaking, Dahl would cuddle her. Truly, it was an idyllic life.

"You done for the day?" Arline asked, bringing Beaudry back down to earth. " I saw a spread in th' Buttermilk Falls Today" magazine, you have a nice little place, you and your guy--"

"My husband, yes."

"Y'all bought a big-ass house. It was quite an article."

You can't fucking read you nasty cow, Beaudry thought. She remembered how Arline had been struggling with a night class, and Preston had asked Beaudry to tutor her.

And they'd come a long way, but Arli had resented Beaudry having to help her, and just to ensure that Beaudry didn't think she was "smarter" Arline had viciously caned Beaudry five or six times, and used the multi-holed Spencer Paddle, and made poor Beaudry recite...

"I am a dumb-bunny" over and over again!

"Make you screech like a goddamned hamster if I want to!" Arli had said, viciously knocking Beaudry down with a slap after Beaudry had corrected Arli's comments about "condiments" and vowels by gently reminding her it was "consonants"

And who knows if hamsters have a voice at all?

Of course in that house, Beaudry never did.

Finally, after Beaudry and Pres divorced, Beaudry had heard that Preston and Arline had taken in another younger, cuter sub, Jessalyn, and it seemed the submissives were lining up to be mistreated by the perverse pair!

It was a good goddamn thing that Beaudry was over this, and blissfully happy with her second husband.

Arline looked closely at Beaudry. Arli and Preston had eventually split, and now Arli was seeing Wagshal, a guy she'd met by the nipple clamp counter at the Dungeonopolis gift shop, a little store in the lobby of the Buttermilk Falls Paincafe, the town's BDSM oriented hotel.

Arline had not been into the "scene" before she met Beaudry and Preston, but she found she had a bit of a mean streak, and then Wagshal, who was intellectually and experientially Arli's superior, had taught Arli even more about being a dominant Mistress.

She had Clavi, the girl-slave, but Wagshal had made things far more interesting, and she lived in his big house...and Clavi visited weekends.

Arline wondered if Wagshal thought he'd created a monster, though of course Pres had started the whole thing.

Unlike Pres, Wag was a male submissive. Just the night before, after Waggy had given Arli a long massage, Arline had cuffed Wag's wrists behind his back and ordered him to kneel by the bed while she took a nap.

Arline had draped a pair of her bright pink panties, stained with her juices over Wagshal's erection, and told him that he had to keep them hanging there while she slept.

"That means, Pig-Boy, that you'd better keep thinkin' about how hot I am, so your hard on doesn't go down, or you'll pay dearly when I awaken!"

Yes, it would be all mental energy that Waggy would have to use to think about how hot his Mistress was, praying that his erection wouldn't flag.

Of course if his penis went down and the panties fell to the floor, Arli would know when she rose, and Wag couldn't cheat by replacing the panties after jerking his dick a little to get it excited!

She'd given Wag a long, wet kiss and told him "Baby, if you can't keep yourself excited for an hour or two, we will be ordering a chastity belt so I can assure myself that you aren't beatin' your meat on the sly, and you'll be much hornier...and of course you'll be severely beaten as well!"

Arli remembered the look of terror in Wagshal's eyes when she'd turned over and gone to sleep, but he'd maintained his dick, and she was very pleased when it was still hard a good ninety minutes later.

Although she had given him a severe whipping for the look of triumph he'd had on his face...

Now, she gazed at pompous little Beaudry, who kept her shape no matter what, and was so put together.

When Preston had taught Arline how to spank and torture his submissive wife, it had been easy for Arli's class resentment to come out and to be especially cruel.

"So we're near your new house, right?" Arli said with a smile. "I'd love to see it"

Beaudry breathed. "Sure, come on over, we've redecorated it again." Beaudry smiled to herself. She was in great shape, and would make Arli apologize for her appalling behavior, and how blown away Arli would be by all that had happened, and all that was created by her former submissive...

Her Queen Anne bed with the thousand count sheets....but why would Beaudry show Arline the bedroom? No, just the bottom floor.

When the ladies arrived at Beaudry's gate, Beaudry smiled at Jorge and Chauca, the landscapers, and they grinned back at their beautiful employer, although it seemed curious that she would be accompanied by this muy gordo woman.

And, a few minutes later, after the door closed, the fellows heard Miss Beaudry screaming. First there were bellows of what sounded like agony...

And then..."Yes, oh yes, Miss Arli, thank you for giving me what I need!"