Mistaken Identity Ch. 02

The Countess took Sue's hand and stood up leading her gently off the bed and through to the main room of the suite. Sue was still so shell-shocked from her orgasm that she hadn't fully taken in what the Countess had said and it wasn't until she saw the horse that she put up any resistance. The Countess gripped her wrist firmly and Trixie came across and took Sue's other hand. Together they half led, half dragged Sue towards the horse.

"But... please... Countess," Sue stuttered as she pulled back from their grip.

"Come along now, don't make this worse than it already is," the Countess said sternly. "You're in enough trouble already and if you don't start behaving I'll only have to punish you more. If you don't go over the horse willingly then I will be forced to call for help and you will be made to go over. Trust me when I tell you that you don't want that to happen. Now, are you going to behave?"

Whether it was the Countess's words or her tone that got to Sue is immaterial. The threat was real enough and she was currently not doing very well in her campaign to allay suspicion by being a well-behaved slave. If she was going to have to go over the horse it would be best if she went of her own accord. Maybe it would help alleviate the worst of what was to come.

"I'm sorry, Countess," she said, bowing her head and allowed herself to be led towards the horse. "I was forgetting myself."

The horse was a little more than waist height with a broad leather padded top and, inevitably, was fitted with leather cuffs attached by chains to the bottom of the four legs. Indeed, it appeared to have been designed specifically for punishment rather than any real gymnastic use. Guided by the Countess and Trixie, Sue lay across the top and, as her wrists were cuffed to the legs, so her feet were lifted off the ground and she was entirely supported by her stomach. This done, Trixie and the Countess went round to her ankles and Sue felt herself being spread wide as they were similarly fastened. She glanced sideways to where a full sized mirror hung on the wall and she could see her reflection. Upended and wide open, ready for a spanking, there was no dignity left to her at all.

"Now then, little Rosalita," the Countess said, coming up behind her and gently stroking her finger up and down the crease of Sue's buttocks. "You are new to this so I shall be gentle. I shall use a paddle, not a crop or a whip, and maybe twenty strokes will be enough to remind you in future. What do you say?"

"Err...," Sue tried to think herself into the role of the compliant slave. She was supposed to be grateful for everything the Countess did to her. Was she supposed to be grateful for this as well? "Thank you," she essayed.

"Thank you, is that all?" the Countess's tone was icy.

"I'm sorry, Countess, I'm grateful, really I am. I want to be better, I want to learn self control. Please, please don't hurt me too much."

"That's better," the Countess replied. "That's more like it." She seemed in no hurry to start the punishment; rather she continued play with Sue's buttocks. She let her fingertips stray over Sue's sphincter, feeling her tense as she gently probed.

In fact Fiona was mulling over her next move. This punishment scenario was, once more, straight from the script but, as with the head shaving, she was well aware that there was often a gap between what the clients asked for and what they really wanted. After all, levels of pain tolerance varied widely. She prided herself on being able to read the client's real wants and hated the rare occasion when she heard the go-slow word or, worse still, the stop word. But this client was different and almost impossible to read. The way she had baulked when she had seen the horse spoke volumes; she certainly wasn't looking forward to this in the way that many of the clients did. On the other hand she had capitulated easily and there had been neither hide nor hair of any safe words. It was like the head shave. Before they had done it Fiona could have sworn that the client was horrified at the prospect but, once they had started she had really got off on it. Anyway, the solution was simple. She would use a moderate paddle, nothing too heavy, start off easy and slowly ramp it up until the client started to show signs of distress. She'd stop from time to time and keep a close eye on things; that way she could judge just how much the client really wanted.

With this in mind she went to the chest of drawers and fetched out a suitable paddle. Then, because its flowing lines got in the way of her swing, she ordered Trixie to take off her dressing gown and, dressed only in her shift, returned to where Sue was upended over the horse.

Although she enjoyed playing the Domme, Fiona was no sadist. She would never want to really hurt someone but the sight of Sue's twin shapely globes so nicely presented to her simply called out to be thoroughly spanked. She was professional enough to enjoy her work whatever the client but this one, who was both as cute as a button and deliciously submissive, was a real joy. Again she traced the outline of the twin upended globes, enjoying the anticipation of what she was about to do.

"And why do I have to punish you, little Rosalita?" the Countess asked.

"I... I came without permission," Sue replied.

"Indeed, little Rosalita, but it's far more than that. You must learn that, from now on, you are my toy, my plaything. When you put your pleasure before mine, when you let your needs rather than mine dictate your actions, then you are less than I demand, less than you can be. When you learn to serve, really serve, then you will be something very special. You want to be something special, don't you?"

"Yes, Countess", Sue replied although she felt she would have preferred to be someone special rather than something special.

"Well then, I'm helping you become what you want to be. That's why you should be grateful. Are you grateful for me helping you so?"

"Yes, Countess, thank you, Countess."

"So grateful that you would like me to add another ten strokes of the paddle to really drive the message home?"

"Please, Countess...," Sue started automatically, and then realised she had effectively asked for ten more strokes of the paddle. However, she couldn't see an easy way to get out of this so she just kept quiet.

And the worst of it was that, all during this conversation, the Countess was spending more and more time playing with her fingers in the groove between Sue's buttocks. To Sue's consternation this was, for some reason, incredibly erotic and, when the Countess's fingers reached far enough to start playing with Sue's labia, she couldn't help but respond, to push back, to open herself up as far as her restraints would let her. The Countess noticed this and probed further until the tip of her forefinger was gently stroking Sue's clitoral hood.

"And does little Rosalita like being played with?"

"Yes, Countess, thank you, Countess." And she did. Sue's life was turning topsy-turvy and not just because of the upended position she was currently in. This bizarre world where she was some sort of sex toy for this mad Venezuelan Countess should have been terrifying but her libido was saying otherwise. She hadn't really come down from the orgasm she had had rubbing herself against Trixie's knee and now it wasn't just the Countess's finger in her pussy that she wanted, she actually craved the sting of the paddle against her buttocks. The jolt of pain from the clamps around her nipples had been the force behind the intensity of her last orgasm and something told her that there was a fair chance that a spanked bottom would have the same effect. Even now, the throbbing coming from her nipples where the clamps still grasped them was part and parcel of the reason she was still flying high.

And then the Countess took her hand away and, smack, the first blow landed. It stung rather than hurt but that didn't stop Sue's whole body jerking forward and this made the bells hanging from her nipples swing about, tinkling as the clips they were attached to tugged at her nipples. Smack, the next blow landed, and the next, and the next. Each blow in itself wasn't too bad but the cumulative effect was increasingly hard to bear and Sue couldn't help but give little yelps of pain.

After ten blows of the paddle the Countess paused for a moment and let the tips of her fingers gently glide over the twin globes of Sue's battered buttocks. Sue winced as she did so but managed to keep quiet.

"And is little Rosalita learning her lesson?" the Countess asked. She let her fingers trace down to where the glistening edges of Sue's labia spoke of her continued arousal. She probed inside to once again play with the sensitive flesh concealed within. "Well? Answer me. Are you learning that your pleasure is to give me pleasure?"

"Yes, Countess, I am, Countess," Sue replied somewhat breathlessly.

"Then you will welcome the next ten stokes to help drive home the lesson. Look how good I'm being to you. What do you say?"

"Thank you, Countess, thank you." Sue had been expecting this and, curiously, she actually meant some of it. The combination of the warm glow from her butt cheeks and the Countess's finger playing with her pleasure button was, once more, driving her towards an orgasm and she was unashamedly pushing back, rubbing herself against the Countess's hand as much as the Countess's hand was rubbing her. The Countess let her ride like this for a while before withdrawing. Sue couldn't suppress a sigh as, realising that the stimulation was over, she flopped back down on the horse.

"Now, let's continue, shall we?" the Countess said sweetly. "I believe we have ten more strokes to go."

Fiona, reassured by the obvious arousal of the client, set too with the paddle striking a shade harder against the already inflamed flesh. With each stroke Sue couldn't suppress a mew of pain and her eyes were filling with tears. However this didn't stop the need between her thighs and, as she squirmed about, she wished she could just bring some pressure to bear, something, anything, to feed this hunger.

"...and twenty," the Countess said as the last stroke fell. "There, little Rosalita, that wasn't so bad, was it? Now, what do you say?"

For a moment Sue couldn't say anything. Her backside was on fire but that was nothing compared to the need between her thighs. She wanted to beg, to plead, to promise anything just to get the Countess's fingers back, just to give her the relief she so badly needed. However, even though her thoughts were in turmoil, she knew that pleading was bound to fail. Her best course of action would be to appear compliant and hope, pray, that the Countess would take pity on her and allow her further relief.

"Thank you, Countess," she said, rather unsteadily. "Little Rosalita is grateful for her punishment."

"And have you learnt your lesson? Will you be a good little girl and only come when I allow it?" the Countess, once again, reached between Sue's thighs. She cupped her hand and Sue gratefully pushed back, twisting and turning as much as her bonds would allow. The Countess looked over at Trixie and mouthed the word 'rabbit'. Trixie gave a grin in reply and went to the relevant drawer and fetched out the vibrator and handed it to the Countess. She removed her hand and started to use the tip of the vibrator to stroke up and down Sue's labia, which seemed to open up and welcome the invader. There was no doubting the extent of Sue's arousal now as the full length of the rabbit slid smoothly inside her eliciting a groan of 'Oh my god!' from Sue. Once the rabbit was fully inside the Countess switched it on to a low setting.

"Ooh, little Rosalita likes that, doesn't she?"

"Yes, Countess, thank you, Countess," Sue gasped.

"But you're still not to come unless I allow it. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Countess, of course, Countess."

In truth Sue was seriously conflicted. She knew she shouldn't come and, as such, she should do everything possible to avoid coming. On the other hand that was like putting a chocolate gateau in front of a starving chocoholic and telling her not to eat it. She wasn't sure that there was that much self-control in the world. The feel of the rabbit, the way that it filled her up while, simultaneously, hitting all those sensitive spots was just heavenly. So much of her wanted just that little bit more, that little bit that would push her over the edge, that bit which would let her release all this pent up tension and to hell with the consequences.

Fiona turned the rabbit up another notch. She could tell that the client was right on the edge of coming and her job was to keep her there. As the Countess she would strongly disapprove were little Rosalita to come again. As Fiona her job was to give the client the best orgasm possible, to make her come despite herself. She eased the rabbit back and forth a bit and each time she pushed it inwards, pushing the rabbit bit against the client's clitoris, the client found it harder and harder to control herself.

While Fiona was busy teasing Sue, Sarah Bolton was pulling into the car park outside. The Hollywood trip had been successful; she had made significant headway with a potential new client who had been particularly impressed by the discretion and professionalism of her organisation. The potential client's goody-two-shoes on-screen image would be badly tarnished if her adoring fans knew of her real proclivities. Sarah had been a little concerned that she had not been there to oversee this first session with Jennifer Harris but was content that there was nothing that Fiona and the rest of the cast couldn't handle and, anyway, except when she had been in the air, her mobile had been on at all times. She parked up her 'S' class Mercedes and went inside. Gill and Ruth were on duty in the control area and, as she came up behind them she glanced through the one-way mirror where she could see Fiona and Angela in role as the Countess and Trixie along with the client who was upended over a horse. The client was facing away from the mirror so Sarah couldn't see her face but the tanned backside spoke volumes about how they were proceeding.

"All well?" she asked Gill.

"Fine boss. She's just had a paddling and now Fiona and Angela are doing the orgasm denial bit. She's a strange one, though."

"Strange?" Sarah's anxiety about not supervising this one from the start moved up a notch. "How do you mean?"

"Well, it's as if she actually believes it," Gill replied. "I've never known any client get so deep into the role."

"But she's getting off on it?"

"Oh yeah. Fiona and I have both been making sure of that. What's more, she came like a good'un on the auction post, she came again this morning doing a show for 'the Countess' and, if I'm any judge, she's right on the edge of another."

Sarah went over to the controls and flicked the switch, which enabled the hidden microphones so that they could hear what was going on. The client was far from silent but moans and mewing sounds she was making were certainly not those of a woman in distress. They watched as Fiona once more eased the rabbit out, leaving just the tip inside her and the plaintive wail from the client was almost painful to hear. Still, this was what she had signed up for and there was no denying how aroused she was. She watched through the one-way mirror as, once more, Fiona eased the rabbit back deep inside the client, forcing a groan from her lips.

Sue would have preferred to be paddled again, better than this endless teasing. Time and time again that bitch of a Countess was taking her right to the edge and yet, every time, she was denied relief. But it wasn't just the vibrator doing its stuff that was fuelling this crisis; the still warm glow from her buttocks and the constant throbbing from the clamps on her nipples were adding their piquancy to the mix and, whisper it quietly, the whole scenario, upended over a horse and at another's mercy, was equally disturbing. This time the Countess seemed to be holding the rabbit inside her for longer. She knew she had been forbidden to come and part of her was terrified at the prospect of another beating but, quite frankly, she had little control over it and, as the nubbin on the side, the rabbit bit, played with her clitoris, she could feel the dam breaking within her. She tried, with limited success, to bottle up all the cries that threatened to burst from her but the tension kept on building and... and....

The climax, when it came, was overwhelming. Every nerve in Sue's body seemed to be singing out in release and she was barely aware of where she was or what she was doing. She seemed to float away, mindless, formless, lost in a soft haze. Dimly, at the edge of reason, she was aware of the rabbit inside her, and the Countess controlling it, but she was too enraptured by the experience to really care. Slowly the dream began to unravel, slowly she returned to earth, slowly her world came back into focus and, exhausted and depleted, she collapsed across the horse. If she were to receive further punishment then she didn't care; at that moment she didn't care about anything.

Fiona removed the rabbit and let the client get her breath back.

"Oh dear, little Rosalita, it looks like you haven't learnt after all. Maybe the crop will help push the message home."

Sue just lay there, flopped over the horse, overpowered by it all.

Back in the control room Sarah, satisfied that Fiona had everything under control, switched off the microphone and poured herself a cup of coffee. When she turned back to the one-way mirror Fiona was stroking the client's backside with the riding crop. It looked as if this particular client really did want the full package.

Sarah went to her office and settled down to the inevitable paperwork. In one corner there was the box containing the client's possessions: her shoes, her coat, her handbag and her umbrella. Her clothes, of course, had been destroyed as part of the 'preparation for auction'. Again and again it caught Sarah's eye. There was something not quite right but she couldn't put her finger on it. In the end she had to go over and look closer. It was the umbrella, there was something wrong about the umbrella. She pulled it out and, sure enough, it wasn't the real thing, it was a copy and not a particularly good one at that. She'd got a pretty good feel for Jennifer Harris during the initial interviews and it simply wasn't like her to have a knock off copy of a Gucci umbrella; surely she'd have the real thing. She reached for the handbag, rummaged around inside and found the client's purse with all the false documents. Once glance at the driving license was enough. The name was right, Susan Brown, but the address was wrong. Her stomach lurched at the implications and she felt as if she were going to vomit. With shaking hands she reached for the phone and dialled her legal advisor.

"Francine, hi, it's Sarah," she said once the connection had been made. "Look, think I've got a crisis, a big crisis. Can you get down to the warehouse, right away? .... Yes, I know it's Saturday but I need you here soonest. ... What sort of crisis? It's a total fucking nightmare. I think we may have kidnapped the wrong woman. No, I'm not joking. I only wish I was. Now, how soon can you get here?"

Assured that Francine was on her way, Sarah went down to the control centre. She looked through the one-way mirror. The client, or rather, the non-client, was still over the horse. Vivid red wheals on the back of the non-client's legs attested to the way the crop had been used. Sarah couldn't see her backside as it was obscured by Angela who was, judging by the straps around her backside and rhythmic movements of her hips, sodomising the client with a strap on. Sarah knew she ought to stop it, she ought to stop it right away, but, as a way of putting off the inevitable, first she felt she had to make completely sure. She turned to Ruth and asked her if she had a recording of the auction. Sure enough Ruth had kept the footage from the webcam and, after a few keystrokes, it was playing on her monitor.