Poor Claire: Week 02

Julia bounced off the bed and stripped off her dress, her panties and, finally, her bra.

"Come here." She dragged Cunt in front of the wardrobe mirror and stood beside her. They really were very alike, except for the bruised bosom and vermilion soreness of Cunt's sex and the dark stripe of pubic hair Julia still sported. "Frank said fucking you was like raping me. I think, next time, I'd like to see that for myself."

Julia fell backwards onto the bed, spreading her legs languidly. "Lick me." Her tone, so absurdly conversational, became severe, commanding. Cunt had dreaded this from the moment she had heard Julia's voice. She knelt slowly between Julia's knees, her mouth dry and her stomach knotted with loathing for the act she must perform. Her loathing didn't stop her though. She knew well the rule of obedience and she held to it, dipping her head to her task and pressing lips and tongue against Julia's sex.

She lapped at the exposed flesh inexpertly, never having learned, nor wanted to learn, the art of cunnilingus: Never even having experienced it, though several men had moved in that direction only to be rebuffed.

As the cries from downstairs diminished, becoming somehow more forlorn, more miserable, her gorge rose at the taste of Julia. The slippery mucus coated her tongue so that it was all she could do not to retch. She screamed inside, keeping company with Maria, whom she would gladly have traded places with at this moment. A hand on Cunt's head grabbed a fistful of hair and forced her mouth harder against the hot, soft flesh, stifling her breath. She squirmed her tongue into Julia's insides, gagging even as she made it writhe in the girl's vagina. Dragged upwards by her hair, she turned her attention to Julia's clitoris, hiding in its little cowl. She lapped at it like a cat for a few minutes before Julia, frustrated at her clumsiness, cast her away so that she sprawled on the floor. She noticed in the silence that followed that there was indeed silence in the house.

"Useless!" Julia shouted at her. "Useless." She sat up, glaring at Cunt in absolute Rage.

Cunt cowered before her. For all her master's cruel use of her, none of it had ever been in anger. She quailed now at the thought of what this mistress might do in recrimination.

"Get out!" Julia raged. "Get out! Wait in the hall. Daddy will deal with you."

Cunt practically ran along the landing and down the stairs. In the hall she stood and waited, unable to avoid glancing at the cupboard that held the crop. Would he beat her? Or let Julia do it? She shook with terror at the thought of that instrument in the hands of one who so obviously hated her.

Julia didn't so much as glance at her as she stomped down the stairs, dressed again and still clearly angry. She knocked on the Study door but entered without waiting for a reply. Through the open doorway, Cunt saw him fastening his trousers.

"Daddy, she's useless. She knows nothing of pleasing a mistress. Nothing. I knew more than her before I left boarding school."

"Calm yourself, my Sweet. She is merely untrained. I'll ask Dolores to give her instruction if you like. Yes?" He hugged his daughter then held her at arms length, his hands on her shoulders, looking at her in earnest affection. "Yes?" He repeated, as she only pouted at him.

"OK Daddy... But you should still punish her. I don't think she was even trying."

Cunt trembled as she heard this indictment.

"So? Then it will be accounted for on Saturday. I shall not beat her before then. Good enough?"

"'Spose so." Julia grudgingly gave in.

"I'd invite you to come and do the offices yourself but Frank said you're going to the villa this weekend."

"Yes. It's the 2nd anniversary of our 1st date."

"Young people!" He raised his eyes in mock exasperation. "Any excuse."

"Daddy!" she smiled at him, her sulk all forgotten.

"Cunt!" He called her to the study. As she entered she saw Maria sprawled across his desk. She appeared unconscious. Her overlarge bottom was a purple and crimson mass of welts, both horizontal and vertical, the latter traversing not just her buttocks but the more delicate parts between. Her sex was swollen and trickles of blood marked where the tender skin had split under the whipping. Her anus gaped, semen oozing from it – a testament to sodomy. She tore her eyes away.

"Cunt, I wanted you to see this so you will be well prepared for Saturday. You may go now."

As Cunt dressed in the hall, she could feel Julia's eyes on her, scrutinising the minutiae of the ritual. Watching as the awful plug invaded her bowels and the cord settled between her labia. While she put on her blouse and skirt, Julia rummaged for something in the sideboard, raising a tiny red tin triumphantly.

"Aha!" she sounded delighted as she turned toward Cunt with a malicious leer. "Open your blouse." She ordered, while half the buttons were still undone. Cunt obeyed meekly, baring her bosom to Julia who, dipping one finger into the little container, smeared each of Cunt's nipples. "Tiger balm." She explained. Cunt could already feel the heat rising where the balm touched her. "Burns like blazes. Consider it my parting gift."

Julia left her alone to finish dressing. The balm soon kept its promise. Her nipples felt as though someone held a flame to them. The agony seeped through her all the way home.

"I should have known about Maria, should have guessed. Why, when she arranged my introduction to Him, did I never think that she might suffer as I do? How obedient must she be to have her clitoris removed for him? Could I ever submit so much?

He will not ask this of me – my clit is more use to him, as a means of hurting me, than it ever is to me. He will not deprive himself of such an exquisite means of torture."

"Maria didn't come to work today. When I see her, will I want to ask her about him? Discuss our concubinage? Or will I avoid the subject as she does? Certainly, she could have spoken of her past with him. Does the rule of silence bind our tongues even between one another?

Saturday. I have seen what awaits me then. I knew it and now I have seen it. It terrifies me, disgusts me, but fear will not prevent me giving my body to him knowing that is all he requires – no talk of hearts or love. Obedience is not so much to ask of me, I think."

"Julia said her fiancé had fantasised about raping her as he used me. Should I feel then that I was raped? Two weeks ago, perhaps, but not now. I have learned my rules well. If I were raped, here on this train, tonight, I would not plead for mercy or call for help. I could not call it rape when any man who chooses can use me so for his gratification. Submission will be my redemption."

"My daughter told me about the Tiger balm." He was examining her in the dining room, noting how her bruises had gone, except the three faint stripes across her bosom. "It has its uses, though I prefer the nettles when they're in season." He pinched her nipples to see how sensitive they were, increasing the pressure until he made her gasp. "It's not possible to fuck someone straight after Tiger balm, as one can with nettles. Still..." He noted with approval the raw crescents under her breasts, running his fingers along them. "It has its uses. Bend over." He turned her and had her present her bottom, legs slightly parted. His finger probed easily past her sphincter, feeling slight after the massive intrusion she had borne all week. "The dildo is doing its work I see. I shan't need to be gentle on Saturday." He toyed with her labia, smiling at the lividity where the horse hair had rubbed between her lips and across her clitoral hood. He pinched her hood violently, eliciting a shriek from her. "This is the best place for Tiger balm: It reaches where the nettles don't. Before her surgery, Julia's mother would suffer it for hours, lying on this very table. It made a marvellous centrepiece for dinner parties. Suck me."

She turned to see him moving to the very edge of his chair. She squatted by his feet and unzipped him, freeing his cock, already quite firm. He relaxed, lifting a moist finger to his nose and inhaling the smell of her sex and – probably, she thought – her bottom. His finger had violated there first. She felt vaguely nauseous at the thought of it. The soft flesh in her mouth did nothing to settle her stomach either. It wasn't soft for long and soon she was demonstrating the full range of her cock sucking skills. She no longer had to be told to swallow his semen. She even drew him deeper into her mouth as he came, a trick to keep the salty slime as far from her taste buds as possible. She had to taste some of it though, as she withdrew his again flaccid cock and it dribbled a final libation onto her tongue. She was dismissed even before he'd put his penis away.

"Why do I hate him? I am as complicit in my suffering as he is. How can I blame him for the pains I endure when he is so clearly true to his nature while I live a lie, too ashamed to admit my own reasons and motives? It is not his hand that tortures me, but mine. Not his will that orders my ordeals, but mine. So why do I hate him?

Because he's shown me my nature and the truth hurts more than the abuse.

He has shamed me so much I am moving beyond shame. Soon, very soon, the only secret part of me will be my Secret. How will I hide from it then?"

When she arrived at his house, Claire found a note on the sideboard.

"Cunt, I shall be out all evening. I have made an appointment for you with Dolores at the address below. Go there at once. L."

She took the note and left. Dolores' address was almost an hour away.

Dolores answered her knock and let her in with a smile, taking her handbag and coat.

"Do you have a name other than Cunt?"

Claire opened her mouth to respond then thought better of it and simply nodded.

"The rule of silence applies only when naked. You may answer." She smiled reassuringly.

"Claire." Claire introduced herself. It felt strangely intimate to share such a secret with this woman who held so much authority over her.

"Well, Claire... Please, sit..." Dolores indicated a sofa, taking one end for herself. "Louis has asked me to tutor you. He wishes you to learn the art of cunnilingus. You understand why?"

"Yes...For his daughter."

"Not just Julia, though I hear you displeased her. Louis knows several mistresses, including me." She saw the look of surprise on Claire's face. "Oh yes. When I touched you in the shop, did you not realise my interest?" She was unabashed at the admission.

"I-I didn't think about it, Dolores."

"You should call me Mistress. It is not proper for a concubine to be so familiar. I shall not mention the impropriety to Louis though. It'll be our little secret until I have an opportunity to chastise you, then I'll punish you for it myself." She said this as if it were a favour. "Both of my junior staff are my concubines. They're upstairs now, waiting for us. Have you ever performed cunnilingus before?"

"No Mistress, except with...Mistress Julia."

Dolores smiled at the almost-but-not-quite slip in etiquette. "And how often have you received it?"

"Never, Mistress."

"Never? Did you come to Louis a virgin?"

"No Mistress, but I would never let a man..." She made a face, indicating her distaste.

"So?" Dolores realized there was much work to be done here. "Follow me."

Dolores led Claire to a large bedroom occupied by two naked girls about her age. One was of the blonde haired blue eyed, Arian stereotype, tall and large breasted. The other was dark, Latin and petite. Both still had pubic hair though it was severely trimmed and did not appear to reach their sexes.

"Put your clothes there." Dolores ordered Claire, indicating a small footstool.

Dolores watched Claire disrobe while her own concubines carefully undressed her too She stopped them when she was down to corset and stockings, perhaps out of vanity, having by 20 years the oldest body in the room. "Leave that in." She admonished as Cunt squatted to remove the plug from her rectum. "Kneel." She tossed a pillow onto the floor at the foot of the large bed. Cunt obeyed, kneeling.

"We shall start with Michelle I think. She's the most easily stimulated." She nodded to the dark girl who clambered onto the bed, legs akimbo and presented her bare sex to Cunt. Dolores sat on the bed beside her so that she could see and direct what was going on. At a gesture from her, Cunt bent to her task.

"Cunnilingus is 90% teasing and 10% gratification... Do not go straight for the clitoris, circle it, stalk it like prey. Advance within a hair's breadth of it then back off, tease her until she is desperate for that touch." She watched Cunt's tongue circle Michelle's clit. "Detour down the length of her labia... Pluck at her inner labia with your lips...Just so. See! She responds to that." Michelle did indeed respond, sighing with pleasure. "Delve inside her to lubricate the tip of your tongue. Vaginal secretions are much better lubricant than saliva... Use your fingers to spread her... See how wet she is? You have aroused her. Insert a finger or two into her... Turn them slowly: don't ram them in and out... Flutter your fingers like so." She wiggled two fingers with lightning quick movements in front of Cunt's eyes. "Keep returning to her clit... Brush just the tip of your tongue over it. There! See how she tenses. Good... Draw the hood back. Thus." Dolores placed a finger either side of Michelle's clitoris and drew the skin taut, making the tiny nub peek further from its cowl. She released it so that Cunt could try for herself. "And swift flicks. Barely touch it. Tease her... Excellent! She is very near to climax. When she comes, press your fingers against her Graffen spot – behind her pubic hair. It will heighten her orgasm...Now!... Lash her clit, now. Harder! Hear her screams... Pure pleasure. Enough... Let her relax... fingers gently out... Good. Now kiss below her clitoris, ever so gently." Dolores gently pushed Cunt's head away from the prone girl. "See how heavily she breathes, the perspiration on her breasts? You did well. Now try with Lizzie. She is not so easy to turn on."

Michelle rolled languidly over to make room for Lizzie and Cunt bent to her task a second time.

Dolores spoke very little this time, only fine tuning Cunt's technique. Fellatio had taught Cunt to use her tongue expertly and her technique adapted well to this. She was an apt student even though she showed such evident distaste for what she did. It took nearly twice as long to bring Lizzie to orgasm and Cunt's mouth ached with long and unfamiliar exercise. This did not go unnoticed by her eagle-eyed tutor.

"Rest a moment." She told Cunt. "Michelle, bring us all some tea please."

Michelle scooted off the bed and left. Dolores lay down in front of Cunt. "Now Cunt, show me what you have learned tonight." She parted her stocking clad legs and lay back. Cunt stared at Dolores' sex. It was unkempt by comparison with the other women, being possessed of a full thatch of pubic hair. There were traces of grey in that hair too. The fleshy lips were looser and more prominent than the younger ones. Cunt sighed inwardly, resigned to her task and went to it, trying to put into practice everything the mistress had told her, the sooner to be done with this. After an interminable time, Dolores finally climaxed, less dramatically than her concubines, but she seemed satisfied. While she caught her breath, Michelle poured tea for the four of them. Cunt was not fond of tea but welcomed anything that took the taste of female sex away.

"You learn quickly, Cunt. Would you like one of my girls to show you what you've been missing all these years?"

Cunt looked away, repulsed at the prospect.

"No? Well I shan't force you. You may go then."

Dismissed, Cunt dressed and was shown out by Lizzie. She was startled that Lizzie leant forward and kissed her gently on the cheek at the door.

"Saturday. Time, having raced so fast to get here is exhausted, dragging out the empty hours until evening. I have been naked all day, hiding from my trepidation, my anxiety, behind the rule of silence. My submission is all that passes for peace.

Is this what I am becoming? Is poor Claire someone Cunt used to be? No. Or... not yet. The question is its own answer. Only Claire would ask it. Cunt wouldn't need to, or dare to.

And my secret? Will Cunt keep it or, when everything else has been stripped from me, will what remains be too transparent to conceal?"

She arrived early, stripped and waited in the hall. Faint domestic sounds placed him in the kitchen. Eventually, he passed her, on his way to the dining room.

"Cunt. Bring your crop." He carried a large tray.

She followed. The dining table was set for two. He placed the tray on the sideboard and took his usual place at the head of the table, gesturing for her to serve.

They dined in silence, Cunt's eyes rarely straying from the crop on the table. She barely touched the food on the plate, couldn't eat at this moment, even if she were starving. It pleased him to draw out her ordeal with this calm before the storm.

He prolonged her anxiety even more when, dawdling over desert, he chose to remind her what was to come.

"Sometimes, Cunt, it does one good to deny oneself a thing. Anticipation can heighten one's gratification immeasurably. Your bottom for example: I know I could have sodomized you anytime I chose but instead I have endured this week of self denial, just as you now endure the wait for your whipping. I'm sure you've been dreading this evening and that this final delay is a further ordeal.

Dolores made very good report of you last night. I trust Julia will have no further cause for complaint. However, I will keep my promise to my daughter when I whip you tonight." He put down his desert fork, pushed his chair back from the table and stood. "Your breasts first, I think." He picked up the crop. "Stand up." His tone was suddenly peremptory, cold.

Cunt stood and stepped clear of the table, clasping her hands behind her back and breathing in to present her bosom. Her eyes remained open, watching his approach, crop flexing between his hands. She knew what was to come and, knowing, she submitted herself to him.

The crop swished through the air, landing white-hot across her breasts, tearing a scream from her lips as she collapsed in pain. Standing, tear streaked and trembing she presented herself to the whip a second time, a third, a fourth. After six strokes, she could not stand up. Her bosom was almost completely purple and her areolae showed traces of blood where the more delicate skin had split. The scraping of chair legs across the marble floor drew her out of the foetal ball of agony. His hand on her elbow urged her up but only so that she could drape herself over the chair back. Her breasts swung free and throbbed: The searing of the whip giving way to the dull ache of bruised flesh. She winced as she stretched to reach the brace across the front of the chair.

No sooner had she gripped it than her nervous system seemed to spontaneously combust as one brutal stoke after another cut deeply into her bottom and the backs of her thighs. Her cries merged into one prolonged wail of agony as he thrashed at her nether regions, contriving to land the folded tip of the crop on her exposed labia and clitoral hood with each blow.

The crop took her from blinding white, through red, into the black of oblivion as she passed out.

She came to as strong hands lifted her from the chair and deposited her less than gently, face down on the end of the dining table, her tortured breasts, pressed against the polished wood. She lay motionless, unable to move her brutalized body.

She was still barely conscious when his erection nudged against her anus and, with a single thrust, buried itself in her rectum. True to his word, he didn't hold back, fucking her bottom with all his usual vigour. If she'd been more aware of her surroundings, she would have been nauseated at this painful violation, prepared as she had been. As it was, she was barely aware of him as she moaned in renewed torment with each thrust against her burning backside and the pummelling of her bosom against the table.