My Week with Elvira

When I was dry, and Dita had changed into a fresh uniform, she oiled me from head to foot with lovely-smelling essence, then fetched me a long, finely-pleated, sheer white gown, unbelted, so that it fell from my uncovered breasts to the floor. It had wide sleeves too. I wore only my waist chain and a pair of high-heeled mules apart from that, and, when Dita had brushed my hair until it shone, I looked in the mirror – a 'sacrificial virgin' looked back. As an afterthought, I pulled out my butt-plug and left it behind. Walking without it now felt a little strange.

I walked into the lounge, and Elvira was standing in her customary place, by the fireside. She turned to me. 'You look lovely, darling. Are you ready?'

I nodded.

Harshly, she repeated, 'Are you ready? You must reply.'

'Yes, Mistress Elvira.'

'Good, kneel on that cushion, will you my dear.' She pointed at a big, embroidered cushion on the floor, with her toe. Off to one side, she had wheeled into place a huge mirror, so that I had only to turn my head to watch the proceedings. Obediently, I gathered up my gown and knelt. I hadn't realised that Dita had followed me into the room, and Elvira was whispering to her. The dusky girl scampered away, but was back in seconds with folds of braided leather I took to be a whip. Then she carefully lifted my gown off over my head, so that I was left, naked and vulnerable, my new mistress's plaything. Dita twisted my hair up deftly into a knot.

Elvira showed me the whip. It was, indeed, a braided leather one, and looked an awful, cruel implement, though I had no experience of such things.

'I'm going to hurt you now, darling,' said Elvira, 'you know that, don't you?'

'Yes Mistress Elvira,' I managed, though my mouth was unaccountably dry.

She stood back and I heard the hiss of the leather thong as she gave it a trial swish.

I scarcely dared glance at the mirror at that point. There was never a moment's doubt in my mind, however, that I wanted to feel my mistress's whip on my back, and I could already feel wetness starting to form in my depths. I couldn't have explained the feeling to all the world's shrinks.

When the first stinging lash fell across my back, though, it hurt terribly, and I gave an involuntary gasp. I was aware of the very tip of the thong snaking around under my breasts, and leaving a red wheal where it had struck.

I plucked up the courage to take a look in the mirror, and saw Elvira's lovely eyes lidded with passion as she wound herself up to strike me again – I thought she was the sexiest human being I had ever seen, somehow revelling in the restraint of her extra-tight skirt. I looked away as the wicked lash hissed through the air and fell with a resounding 'crrrack' across my buttocks. I felt sure she had drawn blood, and twisting slightly, looked over my shoulder into the mirror, but was rewarded by the sight of a livid, thin stripe, right across the width of my behind. It stung horribly, but when Elvira said, 'Do you want me to stop, darling?' I heard myself saying, 'No, Mistress Elvira!'

One more vicious stroke across my lower back, and Elvira dropped to her knees beside me, and inserted her hand into my crack. Whether it was that action which caused me to be wet, or whether the whipping had already made my juices start to ooze, I couldn't have said, but Elvira said, 'You're really wet, darling, aren't you? I think you like to be whipped.'

With that, she stood again, and resumed flogging me. With each blow, I looked at the damage it had done to me, and saw that it was no more than superficial – but it stung like hell. After three or four more strokes, one landed just below my shoulder-blades, and the very tip of the thong curled around to kiss an engorged nipple. I cried out, but this somehow seemed to encourage Elvira to whip me harder, and the next terrible stroke fell on my lower back, the leather lash wrapping itself around my tender belly.

I came, a rushing, tearing, all-enveloping tornado of an orgasm that almost made me black out, and caused Elvira to throw down the whip, and drop to my side, cradling me in her arms.

'I'm sorry, darling,' she said, and there were, indeed, tears in her eyes, when I turned to face her, 'I know how much that hurt you.'

I looked ruefully at her, wondering if she really did know how much her ferocious lash hurt. She read my mind. 'I too have been whipped,' she said, to my surprise, 'now let's go to bed, shall we?'

A little later, Elvira held me tenderly, soothing my wounded back and buttocks with a scented gel, and talked of her plans for me. She spoke of things which should have had me running for the door, but I was intoxicated by her nearness as she told me how she would like to see me chained to the wall, how she would whip me until I bled, pour hot wax onto my breasts, cane me to the limit of my endurance, and many, many more things. Her soft voice, as she described such awful punishments to me, seemed to belie the things she was speaking of, and her knowing hands, delving now into my cunt, now introducing two long fingers deep into my arsehole, very soon brought me to another, much more gentle, climax, in which I lost myself completely as waves of pleasure swept through my body.

'Oh, Mistress Elvira, I've never been so happy!' I said, yawning, and meant it. I fell sound asleep.

Next morning was my day off, and Elvira told me she was taking me to lunch with a friend who lived the other side of town. She told me over breakfast that, as usual, Dita would have clothes ready for me after I had taken my bath, and I found that she had laid out for me a short Thai silk dress, unbelted, all tiny pleats, which fell over my breasts from the gathered neck to mid-thigh, light as a feather, so that the slightest breeze would display everything underneath. And underneath, I was clearly not meant to wear panties. I had been given a minimal white suspender belt and white stockings – that was all – apart from a pair of very high silver stiletto-heeled sandals. My waist-chain draped prettily over the suspender-belt, I thought, should I have the occasion to be seen without the dress. I grimaced when I thought about Elvira's tastes, and how that eventuality was quite likely.

Elvira herself was as magnificent as usual, in a backless maroon velvet cocktail dress with an ultra-tight skirt over black hose and patent heels, ropes of real-looking pearls around her elegant neck. Her hair was up in an elaborate knot.

Dita drove us to another big mansion, where the door was answered by another uniformed maid, this time maybe Korean or Thai – I couldn't say. She led us into a spacious lounge, where we were greeted by an olive-skinned beauty, whom Elvira introduced as Mila. Mila was shorter than Elvira, and quite slight in build, though what immediately came to my notice were her eyes – they were huge, and so dark they were almost black. It was also not at all easy to take my eyes off her body, encased, as it was, in a gold cat-suit, which fitted her like a second skin. A glittering shawl flung around her shoulders obscured the view of her breasts, but the rest of her was moulded to perfection by the suit.

'What a lovely suit,' said Elvira, 'I can't think how you ever got into it!'

'Mmm,' said Mila, 'I suppose I could answer that in various ways.' She licked her luscious lips in a suggestive fashion, so that I began to see what sort of a lunch date this may turn out to be. But Mila was still talking. 'You must meet my new girl, she won't be a minute. But in the meantime, this lovely creature must be yours?'

I almost bridled at the possessive description, but then thought – yes, I suppose I was!

Elvira introduced me to her friend. 'This is Greta. I have high hopes for her. Isn't she lovely?'

'Why yes, darling, she certainly is. Has she been whipped yet?'

'Just a little.'

'And how did she respond?'

'I think she liked it.' Then, to me, 'Didn't you darling?'

'Yes, Mistress Elvira.' Did I? I tried to get clear my thoughts on what had happened to me the night before, and knew then that I had answered truthfully, that pain, for me, was going to become a need, a way of life even. Had I really enjoyed it, though? Was it possible to actuallyenjoybeing hurt? I sneaked a look at my mistress then, and knew, knew with perfect certainty, that she could hurt me much more than she already had, and I should only love her more deeply. But my thoughts were suddenly interrupted.

'Look, here's Sarah,' said Mila, and we looked to the door to see a petite girl, with long, raven-black hair, dressed so identically to me that I was led to wonder, with some amusement, if it were some kind of 'slavegirl's uniform' – her dress was red, whilst mine was green, but otherwise it was exactly similar. Sarah curtsied to Elvira in a curiously old-fashioned way, and shook hands formally with myself.

The maid served us all with coffee, and we sat around making small-talk for a while, then Mila said, 'Sarah has been with me for two weeks now, and she would like to be punished, wouldn't you, my dear?' She held the girl's chin in the crook of her hand and looked directly at her as she spoke.

'Yes, Madam,' said Sarah, her voice steady and forthright.

'It's what she's really been waiting for,' said Mila, 'but I've made her wait.'

'You are so cruel, darling,' said Elvira, chuckling.

'Yes, I am,' said Mila, 'go now, Sarah and ask Li to prepare you – we don't want to keep our guests waiting any longer, do we?'

Sarah got up, gave another little curtsy and left. We had another cup of coffee and some rather nice almond pastries, as we talked, incongruously, about the news in general.

Perhaps fifteen minutes passed before a transformed Sarah returned. She walked in, holding up the skirt of a long, natural cotton dress as she negotiated the step down into the lounge. The dress was tied at the waist with what looked like a hemp rope, and gave her the appearance of a medieval sacrifice – perhaps a deliberate intention on the part of her mistress – and this effect was heightened by the fact that she wore leather cuffs at her wrists, into each of which was let a dull metal ring. The maid, Li, was just behind her.

Mila stood and walked up to face Sarah. As she did so, her body was moulded by the thin gold material of the cat-suit, her breasts, now that she had discarded the shawl, firm and pointed, nipples jutting.

'You are wearing too much make-up! It is not appropriate!' she snapped, and slapped Sarah hard across the cheek, bringing tears to her eyes.

'I'm sorry, madam,' she whispered.

'We'll see how sorry you are, you slut,' she rapped, 'undress her, Li!'

The maid stepped up, and unfastened the buttons at the back of Sarah's dress.

'Quickly, girl!' said Mila, 'or you'll be the one to feel the whip.'

Li slid the dress from Sarah's shoulders, and, sarah having already untied the rope at her waist, she was soon naked. Then I saw that she had restraints at her ankles just like the ones on her wrists.

Mila strode over to the wall, and drew back a curtain I had supposed to be covering a window, revealing a St Andrew's cross, with metal rings at its extremities, from each of which dangled a snap-link.

Sarah walked calmly – proudly, even - towards it, then turned and looked back at her mistress. Mila spun her around to face the wall.

'Your back, for the first time, my dear,' she said, and proceded to clip Sarah into a spreadeagled position against the cross.

Once she was satisfied that Sarah was nicely secured, Mila, stood beside her, lifted the girl's long, heavy mane of hair from her ear, and said, 'You really do want me to hurt you, don't you, darling?'

'Yes, madam,' replied Sarah, as Mila thrust her hand up between her legs.

'Oh my, she's so, so wet!' she exclaimed, 'Li, fetch me the tray, please.'

Li was at her shoulder almost instantly, bearing a big tray with an assortment of whips and other instruments. I wondered then if, although Mila had said that Sarah hadn't been with her long, she wasn't the first girl to be so treated – Li certainly seemed to know her role.

Mila took from the tray a leather flogger, consisting of many narrow strands of brown leather, bound into an ornate handle. Then she simply stepped up behind Sarah, drew back her arm, and began lashing her across the white flesh of her back with considerable force. Sarah made no sound, and apart from writhing a little, gave no sign of being in pain, though to judge from the redness and the tracery of deeper red lines which started to show against the pallor of her skin, she must have been in agony.

After a few minutes, Mila stood back and addressed the patient, waiting Li.

'I don't think I've been harsh enough, do you?'

Li spoke – the first time I had heard her, 'No madam. Perhaps try crop?'

Mila smiled and exchanged the flogger for a long, black riding crop. Then she hesitated, and standing back, gestured to Elvira to take a turn.

Readily, Elvira got to her feet and took the crop from her friend, walked up and took a trial swish through the air with the cruel implement. Then she thrashed Sarah viciously across her lovely rounded buttocks with it, drawing a whimper of pain from the brunette, and raising an instant red welt across both cheeks of her arse.

I was beset, all of a sudden, by an inexplicable surge of jealousy. My own lovely mistress was whipping someone else, when it should have been me! But at the same time I found the scene irrepressibly exciting, and my hand found its way, unbidden, up under the hem of my short dress, to the outer lips of my rapidly moistening pussy. So intrigued I was, as Elvira's arm drew back again and again and her brutal strokes were now eliciting cries of agony from Sarah, that I failed to notice the girl's mistress slide in beside me on the sofa, and made no effort to resist her when her hand replaced mine and found not jut the outer lips, but penetrated deep into my cunt. I squirmed and moaned with delight as she worked first three, then four fingers, into the innermost recesses of my fuckhole, then she was fisting me fully, in a way I really hadn't thought possible. My jealousy forgotten, I screamed with pleasure, matching Sarah's scream of pain, as we were both overcome by mighty orgasms. Our respective mistresses were looking pleased with themselves as Li released the wounded Sarah, but what happened next was another surprise: Mila detailed Li and myself to tend Sarah's welts and soreness, then took Elvira by the hand and said, 'Come, darling, we'll leave them to it for now.' With that, they left, presumably bound for the bedroom.

Li soon left me alone with Sarah, and trotted off to attend to her chores.

'That must have hurt terribly.' I said.

She looked at me curiously, from under hooded eyelids. 'Don't you understand? I thought we were.....similar?'

'All this is still a little strange to me,' I said, 'I've only been with Elvira for a few days.'

'But your mistress is so lovely,' said Sarah, 'I think we are both very lucky, don't you?'

I did, and nodded.

There was something I wanted to know. 'When you were....whipped, did you..er, did you...?'

'Did I cum? Yes, twice! I felt myself getting ready to climax as soon as I was tied up.'

So now I knew that I wasn't necessarily a freak, having had a shattering orgasm when my mistress Elvira took the whip to my back – it made me feel somehow better.

We held each other, quietly comfortable in each others'company, until our mistresses reappeared, both looking remarkably serene – not a hair out of place.

We had a nice lunch, then Elvira summoned a cab to take us home. Home! I was already thinking of her mansion in those terms, I mused. Only a week ago, I had been married to an up-and-coming young businessman, living a normal life in suburbia. Now I was........what? A lesbian sex-slave? Was that too dramatic a description? Perhaps it was more complicated than that. Or just possibly, I shouldn't try to give myself a handle?

But Elvira was speaking quietly to me in the back seat of the taxi, first having made sure that the glass panel separating us from the driver was shut. And her gloved hand was on my knee, fondling gently. 'Did you enjoy our visit?'

'Yes, Mistress Elvira.'

'You talked with Sarah?'

'Yes, she is very nice.'

'How did you feel when she was being whipped?'

'Excited, but then.......'

'Then, what?' she demanded, a little more sharply.

'Then, when you whipped her, I was jealous.'

'Oh, my sweet Greta, I didn't want to make you envious, my dear.' She leant over and kissed me, and I yielded my lips to her instantly, letting her darting tongue probe my own, studded one.

When she parted from me, I looked into her lovely violet eyes. 'I love you so, Mistress Elvira,' I breathed, just as we pulled up outside the house. My legs felt strangely weak as we walked up to be greeted by the smiling Dita, holding the door open for us.

'I could do with a rest now,' said Elvira, 'why don't you have a nap too, and I'll see you at six, say?' That gave me a couple of hours, and I was grateful for the chance of a rest. I went to my bed, pulled my dress over my head, and lay down on the satin sheets. Now that I was alone, I had time to reflect on what had happened to me that day. I had been thrilled to the core watching Sarah's whipping, then I had not only allowed her mistress to fist me – I had loved it! Then I had enjoyed the nearness of Sarah herself, so it wasn't only Elvira. I was going to have to face up to it – I was well on the way to being a hundred percent lesbian! I tried to remember what it was like being with Mike, and images of his colleague Jake groping me at the firm's party kept intruding, giving me feelings of revulsion. I switched it off, like changing the channels on the TV, and it was the image of Elvira's lovely face that lulled me off to sleep.

I awoke to a quiet knock on my door, and a smiling Dita entered at my invitation.

'What time is it?' I enquired.

'Ten to six,' she replied, 'the mistress wants us in her room.'

Us? I thought. Ah well, but Dita was busily getting things ready for me, and, as she went to the drawers, I was surprised to see that she was not in her maid's uniform now, but wore a short white silk slip. As she leant over to take something out of the drawer, I saw that she was quite naked underneath, her neat, dark pussy-lips a pretty invitation. She looked back over her shoulder and smiled, her hair falling in a heavy cascade across the side of her face. I got off the bed, conscious of my own nakedness.

'You are very pretty, Miss Greta,' said Dita, lightly touching my left breast as I stood.

'Thank you, Dita, you are very lovely, too,' I said. She looked as if she was about to kiss me, then thought better of it, and returned to the drawer, pulling out a mid-length red silk slip with spaghetti straps. 'You'll be beautiful in this,' she said. She stood back and admired me as the soft silk fell over my body. 'You should put on some jewellery – the mistress likes that.' I was about to remind her that I was wearing, as usual, my heavy chain around my waist, but she was already rummaging around and came up with several bracelets, some very long pendant ear-rings, an anklet and a variety of rings. To humour her, I put them all one, noticing that she, too wore a lot of gold jewellery.

I slipped on mules, and attended to my make-up, while Dita put finishing touches to my hair, then she pronounced me ready to go to my mistress's room, and we walked there hand-in-hand. I had always thought that Dita must have fulfilled more than just household duties from time to time.

When we got there, Elvira was reclining on her huge circular bed, wearing a luxurious silk negligee, her long white-blond hair draped across the pillow. She was reading a book, which she set aside as we entered.