From the Closet to My Knees Ch. 02

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Her life with a dominatrix spirals.
3.1k words
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 06/05/2003
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Lassie
Lassie
18 Followers

A great weight had been lifted when Stina broke the ice and established the fact that we were now an item. Her expectations weren’t as shocking as one would expect and I could comfortably accommodate her provided she made these requests clear. The message and delivery were so far well received. There was tranquility in submission. Any attempt to command respect or take charge in the past was somewhat of a ruse and I knew it at the time. I wasn’t good at it and was relieved to relinquish that role to someone else.

I did have a major albatross around my neck and his name was Carl. What to do about Carl. I had read that unfaithful men are likely to give up the house to the wife in divorce cases. We had less than five years left on the mortgage as a result of Carl’s aggressive payment plan so the equity alone could carry me if worse came to worse.

“You are not to utter a word about me,” said Stina. “He will be less than cooperative should he find his estranged wife shacking up with another woman.”

“You’re right. I’ll let him know I’ve contacted our attorney and to plan on staying in California. That will come as no surprise to him,” I said.

I stood up as Stina removed the cuffs from my wrists and ankles. Her hand smoothed the skin on my hips down to my thigh as I turned and kissed her cheek. My inhibitions made such a hasty exit and soon I could not keep my hands off her.

Stina was still upset and my apologies only aggravated her. I learned quickly that her brand of apology was the whip and a no repeat promise.

“You said something about shopping?” I asked playfully.

Stina gave a half smile and assured me we’d go soon.

“In the mean time I’d like for you to try on the clothes I have already.”

“Is it about the money?” I asked. “I know these clothes can be expensive.”

Stina didn’t respond as she rifled through a couple boxes. She pulled out a rubber mini-skirt and a matching top. The shoes were clearly too small for my feet.

“Come on,” I said as I gestured her to follow.

She handed me the two items and a rubber thong as we walked out the door. I led her back to the house and gave her a credit card that she reluctantly accepted.

“This is from me to you. You can do anything or buy anything with it. There is hardly a balance but keep it under ten thousand.”

“Why would you give this to me?” she asked. “Why are you paying me to live here?”

“Forget about the tenant/landlord shit, Stina! I’ll sleep in the garage and you can have the house.”

There was a look of ambivalence in her face as she thought for a moment. I knew what was going on. She was in charge but the dilemma of taking my money and simultaneously dominating me was confounding. I did my best to say the right thing to maintain her interest.

“I would have to pay a dominatrix from now on anyway!” I said.

It worked. Stina smiled and waved the card in my face.

“Yea, but I’m going to crush your comfort zone with this. There’s no turning back now!”

“Bring it on!” I exclaimed.

I was still stark naked and holding my bathrobe when I grabbed the skirt off the kitchen counter. I stepped into it and pulled the rubbery slip up my thighs and around my hips. The skirt was basically a pair of shorts without the crotch and one that pulled with each step. My natural tendency was to continue tugging the hem downward.

“It’s futile,” said Stina. You’ve got to get used to it and go with it. Try the top.”

I pulled the matching corset and bra over my head and held my breath as it grappled my waist.

“It’s too small!” I said.

“No, no. It’s perfect,” replied Stina.

There was absolutely nothing that this top did not reveal. My nipple rings were outlined and suspended and it provided enough lift to give me more cleavage than I’d ever imagined.

“This is insane. I can’t leave the house like this.”

Stina’s face grew stern.

“You will starting right now. We’re going shopping – like you said. Set that thong down and go grab some pumps.”

She had no intention of letting me out of this nor was she going to allow the panties. She grabbed my car keys and told me to hurry up. I couldn’t decide which shoes to wear. Most of them were conservative but several went well with my assortment of little black dresses. My heart was pounding with excitement as I heard Stina start my car. Any one of these heeled shoes would work – I looked like a streetwalker no matter how I chose. Stina was being obnoxious as she hit the horn several times. Now anyone walking by would see me get into my car dressed like a whore. I had to laugh.

I stepped into the car and made the futile attempt to pull the skirt lower. I shrank in my seat as we pulled out of the drive and headed downtown. Of course we drove straight to where I would expect to find such depraved attire and the ilk to which it belonged. I reminded myself that I, too, was a part of that ilk except that I wasn’t nearly as brave. I would soon be put through the paces.

We drove up to an empty spot and parallel parked against the curb.

Stina bounded from the car as I continued to lay low.

“Get out! You’re up, babe!”

I climbed out of my side of the car and looked around discretely. No one seemed to pay attention to me and I hurriedly entered the boutique. The next hour or two was a shopping spree that ran the bill into the thousands. All the items in my bag were different but gave me a common look: that of a woman of ill repute. I was, however, giddy with excitement as Stina joined in my enthusiasm. The clothes looked fantastic. There were Corsets that looked to be from bygone days. There were rubber panties, leather restraints and catsuits that I couldn’t wait to wear.

“How is this?” I asked pointing to a riding crop.

“I’ve got one already but if you insist!”

We drove back home and I expressed my concerns about being recognized.

“We are going to give you a drastic change that will rid you of any concerns,” she announced.

We stopped at a hair salon and Stina gave me instructions to remain in the car. Five minutes later she returned with a bag of provisions.

“This is where I used to work. I got some hair stuff for you.”

We pulled into my drive and I quickly ran toward the house. Stina took her time and shouted, “Take your clothes off!”

I shushed her in embarrassment as she walked in through the side door. She beamed knowing I was sensitive to the neighbors and was mortified of them finding out. Well, that was something I played up. It was very exciting to flirt with such danger and soon I was on our bedroom sundeck naked awaiting a haircut by my new girlfriend. To make matters worse, Stina produced a set of handcuffs and I offered my wrists to her. We were both completely aware the restraint was unnecessary but I offered no protest.

She pulled my shoulder length hair into a ponytail on top of my head and cut it off completely. I shuddered as she dropped the tuft of hair onto my lap.

“Oh, my god!” I said as the rest of my hair flopped down in front of my face.

“It’s okay, You won’t have bangs for long.”

Stina proceeded to cut my locks until I had no more than an inch of hair anywhere on my head. The electric shears worked its way up the nape of my neck and over my ears. I looked at my reflection in the bedroom window and my silhouette resembled a Marine’s. I never had hair this short.

“High ‘n tight, bitch. That’s your look from now on.”

“I could get used to this,” I said with little joy.

“We’re not finished,” she reminded me.

The hair dye from the salon was at an arm’s length and was soon prepared for application. The paste was jet black and soon my hair was the same color. While the pungent paste sat on my scalp, Stina propped my legs up and over the railing of the deck.

The clippers clicked and my pubic hairs were drifting in the breeze. The vibration of the teeth grazing my genitals was arousing to say the least. Stina’s dainty fingers pulled on my skin as she maneuvered the blade over the remaining hair. The handcuffs behind my back were the only thing preventing me from pleasuring myself at that moment.

“Now for the fun part!” announced Stina as she reached for the cheesecloth.

The next five minutes was agony as she repeatedly waxed and pulled the cloth from my skin.

Stina left but returned with a two-gallon watering can and proceeded to tilt my head back and flush the dye off. She towel dried it and combed it straight up. There wasn’t much of an option for style and she stepped back and watched admiringly.

I was escorted to a mirror in the bedroom and was amazed. The shaved head made me look taller and my pussy was clearly visible without hair. I hadn’t been this bald since I was eleven. I stood staring at myself and turned to the side to see my hands bound and helpless. I breathed heavily with arousal and all I could think about was sex.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a doctor’s bag – the type they used for house calls.

“Is that your bag?” I asked.

“It is,” she replied as her hands reached around me from behind.

I watched our reflection and shivered as she cupped my breast.

“That’s for later,” she teased. “Tonight we’re going to do the town.”

Stina perused my closet and removed one of my little black dresses. She chose the heeled shoes and picked out a pair of shiny white briefs that were in my top drawer. As an afterthought, she handed me a garter belt to accommodate the black thigh highs.

She removed my cuffs and let me get dressed by myself as she went back to ready herself for the evening.

The dress seemed to fit loosely compared to the rubber outfit. I had fun applying make up and hadn’t looked forward to a night on the town in ages. It took Stina very little time to get ready and she returned holding a wig. It was shocking white and not unlike the length of my previous style except that it had bangs.

“Here. Wear this tonight,” she said handing it to me.

It completely contrasted my false eyebrows but gave me a distinct look.

“Are you ready?”

I nodded as we headed out of the room and to the car. I wasn’t as worried about being recognized with this look but it definitely drew stares as we entered the half-full restaurant. The restaurant was upscale and we were seated practically in the middle. Stina looked great in a striped business-like suit. All that was missing was the fedora.

We started with wine and after we ordered, Stina slid a note across the table. My eyes widened as I read her request. ‘Go to the restroom and remove your panties. Carry them back in your extended hand and hand them to me when you return.’

Stina nodded as I shook my head and pleaded.

“Do it or you’ll get ten lashes!” she whispered.

“No, Stina! I can’t!”

“Twenty!” she whispered through her gritting teeth.

I stood up and walked to the restroom. I waited for a woman to leave and worked my panties off and held them in my hand. I took a deep breath and exited the bathroom. I walked towards our table as my face burned with embarrassment. The panties dangled from my fingertips as men and women I’d pass by would stop and stare. My pace was nonchalant but I churned on the inside. To make matters worse, Stina accepted my panties and brought it to her nose. I was mortified. She placed them in her purse just in time for our salads to arrive.

Part of me let the embarrassment go and I was at ease in the company of my new girlfriend. She knew what she was doing and I had passed the test. The test was only half over as she announced we were going clubbing. She told me about a couple places I’d heard of and others that could’ve only been women’s bars. We left the restaurant and drove a couple miles to the first bar. We found a parking lot of one bar that was midway between the other two so that we could walk. I was about to open my door but Stina told me to wait. She got out and opened the door for me. I thought she was being chivalrous but that was not to be.

“Get out,” she ordered. “Lift your skirt and lean over the hood.”

I shot her a look of disbelief.

“You heard me. This is the twenty you have coming.”

I looked around to see people walking on the sidewalk and to and from their cars.

“No, Stina! Not here…please!”

“Thirty! Now get out!” she yelled as she pulled my wig off .

She guided my elbows to the hood and lifted my skirt above my waist. If the sight of my bare bottom wasn’t bad enough, the sound of the whip echoing off the surrounding buildings added insult. She let loose a barrage of powerful blows as I tried to keep count. I heard the whistles and laughter of folks as they took notice. Some college-aged guys came within ten feet to watch and offered no help in case I might’ve been in trouble. This pissed me off to no end and I began to wonder how I had become the laughingstock and sex object in contrast from the week prior.

The blows of the small whip ended with Stina’s hand feeling up the backside of my crotch before pulling my dress back down. I didn’t even bother making eye contact with the jerk-offs that cheered us on. I just wanted to get a few drinks in me as soon as possible. I wasn’t too happy but after several shots of Scotch all was forgotten. We went to several bars that were becoming increasingly strange. The number of men in the last one was scarce as the scantily dressed women raved to the deafening music. The drinks were strong and so were many of the women. Stina was in her element and I was growing increasingly uncomfortable by her women friends hanging off of her. More than twice my dress was raised as I was inspected and judged by these dykes. In spite of my drunken state I was cognizant of the games Stina was playing. The feeling was reminiscent of the conflicts between Carl and I in social settings. My response was to begin flirting heavily with some of the unsuspecting girls on the dance floor. The next several hours were a complete blur except for the argument in the restroom between Stina and I that left me stripped of my dress and staggering around the dance floor searching in vain for my overcoat that I NEVER EVEN HAD!

The following morning arrived early and I found myself naked and crashed out in the back of my Volvo. Fortunately, we made it home but my headache was awful. I could barely lift my head and maintain balance. I staggered around the car and noticed we had sideswiped something on both sides of the wagon. My main concern was getting inside my house and I finally found the hidden key. I drank what seemed like a gallon of water and climbed into my own bed. I slept until early afternoon to be awoken by a knock on the front door. It was the police. My car was witnessed sideswiping a row of parked cars. I was relieved no one was hit or killed and I apologized to the police and took full responsibility. I felt fortunate not to have been arrested but was unsure I was actually behind the wheel at the time. After the police left I looked for the keys and decided to find Stina. I was not happy with her or the drugs she fed me the night before. The police was a sobering reminder that I was out of control and Stina was partly to blame. I did not want to repeat my mistake of barging into her apartment but the door was ajar and I let myself in. This time she had been sleeping with someone else and I was furious.

“Wake up!” I screamed.

Stina didn’t even to pretend to hide the fact that she had been caught.

“Stina! Get the fuck up!”

“GET OUT!” she screamed back.

I was in tears by this point and I didn’t know what else to do but turn around and leave. I was halfway down the stairs when I decided to put my foot down.

“STINA!” I bellowed. “I want you out of here. I’ll be back and I want you gone!”

I dressed myself and drove around aimlessly in my battered car. I ended up driving to my dear friend Greg’s house. We had been friends since college and it had been too long since we spoke. He was understanding as usual and provided me a place to hang for a few hours until Stina had left. I was so pissed off and my only way to rid myself of her was not to see her again. Greg volunteered to drive past my place and make sure she’d gone. Fortunately, she was in the process but I stayed at his house that night just to be safe. I was almost afraid of retribution but didn’t know Stina well enough to be worried about an ugly side of her. Greg’s brother was a mechanic and offered to fix my car for next to nothing. Life was beginning to return to normal in the weeks following Stina’s departure but I missed her terribly. She was right when she said we were different but I sometimes think I can’t live without her. Most of the time I’m okay but I cannot go up to the empty apartment without bawling. She turned my life upside down but it needed some serious jarring. I’ll never be the same and if she showed up on my doorstep tomorrow I’d do it all again.

The end (I think)

Lassie
Lassie
18 Followers
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