Jennifer and Slave Sarah

"I promised you a replacement for your steel collar and cuffs," I say. "I have them with me. Present your neck."

Sarah lifts her hair from her neck and I fasten her new collar in place. Like it's predecessor, it is made of bright steel, but this one is made of three narrow strands of metal twisted around each other like a cable. To the casual eye it would pass as a necklace, which is what I want it to seem. Whereas Pete's collar had a magnetic catch locked with a tiny screw which Sarah could unfasten, this collar is locked by a tiny combination lock under my sole control. Sarah's eyes light up when I lock her collar in place.

"You will wear this collar all of the time as a symbol of your submission to me," I say formally. "In future I will remove the collar on my arrival on Wednesday night, and only if I am satisfied with your behaviour during the previous week will I return it to its rightful place around your neck. Do you understand, Sarah?"

"Yes, Domina," replies Sarah. "I understand. Thank you for your gift."

"I have another gift for you as well, but you may remove these when you are not in my presence if you wish," I say, reaching into my bag. "Lift up your top."

Sarah does as I instruct, revealing her bare breasts. I produce two steel rings each attached to a small clip, which I fasten to each of her nipples. On reflection I should have chosen slightly smaller rings as these seem a bit too large and heavy. But Sarah doesn't seem to mind and she kisses my hand once I finish securing the clips.

"Oh, thank you Domina," says Sarah in delight. She doesn't even seem to notice the weight dragging on her breasts. Only with the greatest reluctance does she obey my command to lower her top.

Once the opening ritual and Sarah's punishment is served, we settle down to enjoy an evening of girl talk and kinky pleasure while we wait for Adam to arrive later tonight.

Chapter 10: Unexpected Advice

Over the next few weeks, Adam, Sarah and I settle into a routine. Sarah's business goes from strength to strength and she'll need to look at employing someone to help her before long. Even though she is very submissive at home, she runs her business with a strong no-nonsense hand. While I help her with some of the paperwork, I don't otherwise interfere with her business.

Sarah and I check out the building on Water Street which might be a suitable alternative location for her business. Her business has now outgrown her garage and three spare bedrooms. Sarah decides that the building suits her needs. Since my Uncle Steven and dad own the building, I'm able to negotiate a lease on terms favourable to Sarah. We set up a company, J&SS Clothing. It is owned by Sarah's trust since it is the trust money which we are using for capital. The J&SS stands for Jennifer and Slave Sarah, but we don't broadcast that fact. However Sarah adds a 'Slave Sarah' tag to any of the bondage gear she is commissioned to make.

My new routine runs better than I expected. I manage to keep on top of my university assignments as well as fit in ample time for my university friends and Sarah. On the fourth Saturday since I became Sarah's dom, I instruct her to join me on my morning run. A few years ago she would have jogged fifty metres and then need to stop for a long breather. Now she can at least keep up with me for the first half of our run. I don't forget my contracted responsibility to care for her well-being, although in reality she is more than capable of doing that for herself. I find myself growing to like my control over Sarah, and she responds well when I exercise my authority over her.

Inevitably a situation arises when I must punish Sarah more seriously than having her stand in a corner of the room, or giving her a light spanking. We carry out our greeting ritual on Wednesday evening as usual. I sense that Sarah has something to confess which she knows may warrant a serious punishment. To make matters worse, her confession includes two different events, both of which leave me with a difficult decision.

"Adam and I had sex last Saturday night," confesses Sarah.

Although I don't admit it to Sarah, I'm slightly relieved they have broken my impulsive 'no sex' rule. I have been worried that Sarah's time working as a prostitute has put her off having a normal sexual relationship. But it seems that she and Adam are getting on well together.

"You will need to give me some more details so that I can determine the appropriate punishment," I reply, trying to avoid appearing like a voyeur.

"Um ... I undid the zip on his leather briefs and gave him a hand job," replies Sarah.

It's not as serious an infringement as I initially thought. Had it occurred a week or two earlier I would have treated it as nothing more serious than deserving a light spanking in punishment. But I'm now more attuned to Sarah's needs from me in my role as her Domina. I might regard her infringement as minor, but she expects me to treat it as a much more serious crime. She deliberately broke my 'no sex' rule knowing that a punishment will follow, and that thought drove her to enjoy her act of disobedience all the more. If I don't punish her appropriately, then she'll be disappointed in me, and I will feel as though I've let her down.

"I'll tell you your punishment when you have finished your confessions," I reply, playing for time while I think of a suitable penalty. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes, Domina," replies Sarah. "I had my nipples pierced so that the rings you gave me can be more securely attached. I did so without asking your permission first. I forgot that my body belongs to you and isn't my own any more."

"Show me," I command, more annoyed that Sarah has done this than her confession about her sexual act with Adam. I also doubt that she 'forgot' that she signed her body over to me.

She lifts her top to reveal her breasts. I can see small 'D' shaped rings on her nipples. They are held in place by tiny fasteners either end of the horizontal bar piercing each nipple. I can't deny that she looks extremely sexy. I've never previously had any inclination to have a sex with a girl, but these last few weeks have made me re-evaluate my feelings on the subject. I do something I would never have dared to do a month ago. I touch Sarah's breasts and examine the rings. Sarah's gasp ... I don't know whether from pleasure or pain ... gives me a powerful erotic thrill. I remember from when I had my ears pierced that it takes a couple of weeks for the wound to heal, so I don't linger with my hand.

"Very nice, Sarah," I respond once I feel suitably in control of my emotions. "But as you said, your body belongs to me and I did not give you permission to have your nipples pierced. Do you have any further confessions to make tonight?"

"No, Domina. That's all. I'm sorry that I have been so disobedient. Please punish me."

"Very well, Sarah," I say. "For having your nipples pierced you will wear leg shackles for a few hours. For performing such a disgusting act with Adam, you will eat like an animal from a bowl on the floor at the next three meals which you eat in my presence. Now fetch the leg shackles you have in your treasure box in your room, and then you can prepare our meal."

I know Sarah has a collection of chains, locks, and miscellaneous bondage equipment in her room. I don't know how often Pete made use of them, but I suspect Sarah uses them regularly when she is alone. However, operating her business from her new premises means she now has less opportunity to play with them. Nevertheless, I think I need to examine what she has in her treasure box and confiscate anything she might try to use without my permission.

Sarah returns a few moments later with the shackles. They are like large handcuffs with a linking chain about forty centimetres long. She also brings one of the boxes with a time lock on the lid. I lock the shackles onto her ankles and test that they aren't too tight.

"Thank you, Domina," she says. "How long am I to wear the shackles?"

"Do you have any dice? If so, go and fetch two dice."

Sarah promptly shuffles off to fetch two dice from one of the upstairs rooms. The chain restricts her movement but it is long enough for her to safely navigate the stairs. She returns looking slightly puzzled by my command.

"Throw the dice. Whatever you throw will be the number of hours on the timer."

Sarah's smile tells me that she's excited by this twist to her punishment. She rolls a five and a three, so I set the timer for eight hours. She goes into the kitchen to prepare our evening meal. Since she has been working all day at her new premises, she hasn't had any time to prepare our meal in advance. We talk while she prepares the food. I know better than to offer to help her.

It might seem strange that we can hold a normal conversation while we are dressed as we are, but by now we are comfortable with our respective roles. It takes Sarah just over thirty minutes to prepare and cook our fish and vegetable meal. She sets the table for one person and finds a bowl for her own food. She waits until I'm sat at the table before serving us both. At my signal, Sarah picks up her bowl and places it on the floor near my feet. She goes down on her hands and knees and commences to eat like a dog. She hasn't made one word of complaint about her punishment.

I soon realise a small problem with having Sarah eat on the floor. Her long hair keeps falling forward and is in danger of ending up in her food. Not only does it spoil my view of her eating like this, but it is messy and unhygienic.

"Stand up and fix your hair so it doesn't fall into your food," I say.

Sarah does as she is told and quickly binds her hair into a bun at the back of her head. I finish my meal several minutes before Sarah can lick her bowl clean. She's slopped some of her food onto the floor, and she will no doubt expect to be punished for making a mess. It means that I'll have to think of a suitable punishment.

"Clean the mess off the floor," I snap, pretending great anger. "Leave the washing up for now. We will go upstairs and look through your treasure trove of toys."

Sarah does as she is told and we go upstairs to her bedroom. Even though Pete has moved out of the master bedroom, Sarah still sleeps in the same room she has done since she was a child. The room is a bit small for all the furniture and personal belongings crammed in here, but so far I've not interfered in what I regard as her private space. Sarah fetches the suitcase crammed with her various sex toys and the other bits and pieces that she hoards. She puts it on her bed and opens the lid. I soon realise that we will need more space to examine everything inside the case.

"Bring the case downstairs. It's high time I took control of this collection."

The look on Sarah's face tells me that I've struck gold with a means of punishment and reward. There must be items in here which Sarah likes to play with, and denying her the use of them is a good form of punishment, just as allowing her to use them is a reward.

We tip the contents out onto the living room floor and sort them into different categories. There's an assortment of chains, padlocks and handcuffs. Two sets of wrist and ankle cuffs; one set made of strong leather, the other of fake-fur lined plastic. Three different gags and a wicked looking bondage hood which has zips over the mouth and eye slots. Two items which I have absolutely no idea how they are used. The last pile contains an assortment of vibrators and toys which she must use to masturbate.

"These I am confiscating," I say picking up the last pile. "Earn a reward and I might let you use one from time to time."

"Yes, Domina," replies Sarah meekly, trying to hide her disappointment that her special toys have been impounded.

"The rest of this stuff we can use for our new games," I add.

"New games, Domina?" queries Sarah with some enthusiasm.

"Yes. Do you remember how we used to play pirates and captured princesses?" I ask.

"Yes, Domina," says Sarah, clearly getting more excited.

"Well, what I have in mind is something similar. Are you willing to play?"

"Oh yes, please, Domina."

"Good. But first I must punish you for that disgraceful mess you made with your meal. And then you must do the washing up. By hand. From now on you are forbidden to use the dishwasher on Wednesday nights. Hand me that gag and the pair of leather cuffs."

Sarah does as she is told and I fasten the ball gag in place. The soft ball sits inside her mouth, forcing her jaw slightly open. The flexible plastic strap passing through the centre of the ball buckles at the back of her head. I fasten the wrist cuffs to her arms just above her elbows and connect a short linking chain across her back. It severely restricts her ability to use her arms, but leaves her with just enough freedom to be able to do the washing up ... albeit with a lot of difficulty. Satisfied that I've adjusted the length of chain correctly I lock the cuffs and chain in place.

"Now go and do the washing up," I say.

Sarah mumbles something through the gag with I assume is her acknowledgement of my order. By now we are both in a highly charged emotional state. Each time Sarah and I meet like this I feel my boundaries are pushed further and further into strange but exciting territory. I wait patiently as Sarah struggles to do the washing up. Twenty minutes later she has finished and she joins me in the living room. Then our fun games begin.

Sarah and my relationship is starting to benefit from me knowing more about the boundaries of Sarah's submissiveness. As a consequence, I feel more confident in the way which I treat her, and she responds in ways which encourage me to go further. I become able to read the tiny clues in her body language which help me gauge whether I'm being too strict or too soft. But it isn't a one-sided arrangement. She's careful never to show any desire for something she thinks I'm not ready to handle. We help each other to develop our relationship far beyond what I initially thought we could achieve. My inhibitions begin to melt away when we are alone, although I'm still uncomfortable about the prospect of dressing and behaving like we do together when we are in the company of others.

Needless to say the fateful day arrives when my parents discover my secret life. I suppose I should have expected it, and in my defence, I have mentally rehearsed some possible confrontations between my parents and I. The discovery occurred when the land agent acting for Uncle Steven and dad made a routine inspection of the Water Street property. He reported back to dad, who in turn must have said something to mum. Without warning I'm faced with a mother-daughter conference on a subject I've dreaded discussing with either of my parents.

"Since you are a trustee of the Lindström trust, am I correct in thinking that you know what sort of business Sarah-Anne operates?" asks mum.

"Yes. She designs and manufactures clothing," I reply. "She's doing quite well and now has lots of customers."

"Clothing made of leather and latex," adds mum. "The sort of clothing commonly used in a sexual situation."

"Bondage gear. Yeah. Some of what she makes fits that category, but mainly its more regular clothing made of vinyl, leather or latex. I've worn a couple of her outfits myself. They're sexy but not indecent."

"Hmmm ... just be careful that your dominant nature doesn't lead Sarah-Anne astray. You know how she always liked you to tell her what to do."

"You think I have a dominant nature?" I ask with mock innocence.

"Ha ha! Don't be coy, Jennifer. I know my own daughter's nature. I've had two decades of experience. I can just image you strutting about in black leather with a whip in your hand. Just be careful with Sarah-Anne though. She's very submissive, as I'm sure you've discovered. She went off the rails after her parents died, and she needs someone to take a firm hand with her. You perhaps."

"Are you saying that you would be alright with me being Sarah's ... um ... dominatrix?"

"If that is what works for you both, then yes. You are old enough to make your own decisions. And you are just the sort of dominant friend Sarah-Anne needs in her life."

"And will dad be alright with this too?" I ask.

"He may need a little more time to accept you as Sarah-Anne's dominatrix. He's worried that your relationship with Sarah-Anne will damage your academic studies. He wants you to succeed in life, and a university degree goes a long way towards that. He remembers how upset you were when you got behind with your assignments in college."

"I'm not about to quit university," I reply. "And I'm keeping on top of my assignments. I learned my lesson after that episode in college."

"That's good to hear. Now, do you have one of Sarah-Anne's outfits here? I'd like to see what you regard as sexy."

"Mum!" I cry in nervous surprise. I had never imagined the conversation we've just had, and certainly not mum asking to see me in one of Sarah's creations. "Okay. But I can't guarantee that you'll approve."

"Oh Jennifer! You youngsters think it's your generation which has discovered all this sexual revolution stuff. Bondage and discipline, sadomasochism, master and slave; all that sort of lifestyle goes back many years. I'm not inexperienced in that area myself. Whose genes do you think have given you your dominant nature."

I'm both shocked and relieved by mum's attitude. I've never liked lying to my parents and it was becoming increasingly hard to hide the nature of Sarah's and my relationship. Not that I plan to parade our relationship in public, but at least I no longer need to worry about my parent's reaction.

I go to put on the latest outfit Sarah has made for me. It's a black vinyl sleeveless dress which opens completely at the front. A matching bodice with white laces holds the front together, although there is plenty of cleavage showing. It is risqué and bound to attract notice, but I feel confident enough to wear it in public. I put it on and return to where mum is waiting. She examines my outfit with a critical eye before making some minor adjustments; like tightening the bodice laces to push my breasts higher.

"Right. Let's go show you off to your dad. The sooner he gets used to your new clothes the better."

This isn't how I anticipated our mother-daughter conversation would end, but I'm not complaining.

Chapter 11: A Harsher Regime

There can't be many modern-day mothers who teach their daughters how to use a whip on someone. My mum's revelation that she was once involved in the bondage and discipline scene is a shock which takes me a few days to get over. Mum doesn't go into many details about how she became involved, but it seems that meeting dad more or less ended her foray into the BDSM scene. Dad is what mum calls 'vanilla' when it comes to sex, so while he knew about mum's interest in BDSM, he wasn't keen to take part. Mum decided that she would rather have dad than the BDSM scene, which is fortunate for me since I wouldn't have been born if she had chosen otherwise. Now it seems that my emergence as a budding dominatrix has given her former passion a new lease of life.

I don't tell Sarah about the coaching I'm receiving from mum. In addition to mum showing me different sorts of whips and how to use them, she guides me in a number of diverse topics, including safety tips and how to judge the right balance of pain and pleasure a submissive receives from a punishment.

"Remember that your submissive must always believe that they only exist to please you," says mum during our private session in my bedroom on Monday evening. "Their own pleasure must always come second to yours, and your submissive must seek your permission before they enjoy anything as powerful as an orgasm."