Pretty Woman Ch. 02

(See Calandria for part 1)

*

Two days had passed since the morning when my Master took Teresa into bed with us. The evening after, he whipped me again, harder, if anything, than the first time, and made Teresa watch. She cried for me, but knew also that it was just what I wanted. That night he made love to me alone, with wonderful tenderness, before announcing that he would be away the next day, and not back until very late.

When I awoke next morning, he had gone. I spent my day doing things I liked – reading, working out in the gym, going out for a walk with Teresa. I asked her to tell me all about herself – how come she was a maid, when she was obviously an educated girl, and so forth. She told me she was a Colombian immigrant sin papeles (without papers) and that Lars had saved her from a life on the streets. That makes two of us, I thought, and I suspect she had guessed at my shady origins anyway.

What she wanted to know from me was more about my willingness to be a slave, and how I could long to be punished by our Master. I was at a loss to explain to her, and I don't think I really understood it myself – I just knew that I could scarcely bear waiting

until my Master returned the following day, aroused by the very thought of him, and the speculation as to what he had in store for me. I had been born to be a submissive, but had hated myself for feeling horny when my stepfather, years ago, had forced me to take his sweaty, smelly prick into my mouth, and made me swallow his cum. Some of my clients at the puticlub had wanted to tie me up, but the owner had warned us not to let them, and there was a secret video camera in every room. I think the owner used to sit in his office, jerking off, while he watched what was happening on his monitors.

So when Lars had picked me up and brought me to his home, I was totally inexperienced so far as being a slave was concerned, but from the time when he first talked to me about restraint, then gave me the Jean de Berg book to read, I knew sex would never be the same for me again.

When I told all this to Teresa, she took my hand, and said, dreamily, 'It's so exciting, Kate. I'd like to try….you know….being whipped, I think, but I've never been very good with pain – I can't even stand the dentist's.'

We sat on a bench in warm sunshine, in a deserted corner of a wooded park, and I turned to her and toyed with a long glossy black strand of her hair. In no time at all, we were kissing deeply, while she ran a hand slowly up my naked thigh under my cotton print dress. I eased my legs apart to encourage her, and her long, slim fingers went unerringly to my clit.

'You've got a lovely clit, Kate,' she breathed, virtually into my mouth, massaging the bud as it grew, sliding its bald head out from behind the protective hood.

'Oh, oh!' I replied, feeling the inevitable orgasm burgeoning in time with her busy fingers. All it needed was for her to drive three fingers deep into my cunt, and I closed my eyes, bit my lip, and shuddered convulsively as I climaxed, there and then. A man walking a dog approached from behind a rose garden, giving us barely time to look respectable. I caught him looking speculatively at us, and looked away.

'When we get home, I'll do the same for you,' I said.

'It's not necessary – I…I just wanted to do that!'

We started walking back, arm-in-arm, and Teresa said to me, 'Would it be nice to be pierced, do you think?'

'I don't know – where do you mean?'

'I was thinking about your clit.'

'I hope it was a nice thought?'

She smiled, a little secret sort of smile that I liked.

'I believe it could be done,' I said, 'I heard some of the girls where I used to work talking about it. One said she had a big enough clit to pierce, but the other said she was just going to get her labia done – I didn't stay to find out what happened.'

'It must hurt like hell,' said Teresa, 'but I wouldn't mind having my tongue done, would you?'

I thought about it, running my tongue reflexively around my mouth, and trying to imagine the discomfort of having a big dumbell hanging from its tip.

'You just want to feel something different around your pussy!' I teased her.

'You have a point there,' she said, 'and it would certainly improve a blow-job, wouldn't it?'

We resolved to ask the Master's permission to have our tongues done, and walked slowly home.

'This evening,' I told her, 'I'd like you to help me prepare to welcome the Master back home.'

'Of course,' she replied, and we went on to discuss what I ought to wear.

But we were interrupted when the phone rang, and Teresa answered. Then she came back to me and said, 'That was the Master. He says the meeting is taking longer than he thought – he's staying over in Lisbon until tomorrow, and won't be back until the afternoon.'

I was disappointed, but my easy friendship with Teresa was blooming into something more intimate, and I saw the chance of inviting her into my bed for the night – an appealing prospect.

I was already in bed by the time Teresa came into my room. She was wearing just a little maroon silk slip, whilst I had slipped on one of my luxurious long nightgowns. Her sensitive fingers started to caress my body through the soft silk as soon as she slid between my satin sheets. I loved her gentle stroking and kneading, and moaned out loud as her fingers started to tease my nipples, bringing them to instant erection.

'Tell me what you'd like me to do,' she said, 'whatever it is, I'll love it!'

For an answer, I pulled up the hem of my nightie, and, taking one of her hands by the wrist, directed it between my buttocks, spreading them for her.

'Only if you'll do the same for me!' she surprised me by whispering, and she began sliding a long, sharply-nailed finger slowly up and down my crack lingering tantalisingly to encircle the little hole of my ass. It felt wonderful.

'Wait a second!' I told the Colombian girl, and flipped over so that we were in a '69' position, and my face was in her pussy. I couldn't resist licking her slit, lapping her slowly, while I flicked her tiny, almost invisible clit with a fingernail. I made her part her legs wide, so that her feet were just about projecting from either side of the bed. I stretched my own legs wide apart too. Then I tongued gently the very entrance to her rectum, making a circle of my tongue, and pushing it into her, dragging nice little moans from her, which I matched as I, in turn, felt her penetrate my most sensitive place, first with her tongue, just a short way, moistening me at the same time, then with her finger, which she drove in to its very limit.

'More!' I gasped, and she understood, adding a second, then a third, finger, and fucking my asshole with them. I found her little velvet tube much tighter than mine, and she groaned with pain when I worked two fingers deep inside her. Thinking I had really hurt her, I pulled them out, but she grasped my wrist. 'No, Kate, don't stop – it's so fantastic…..,' she breathed.

In a very short time, we both reached our climax, then lay together, quite exhausted, until sleep came and washed over us.

After a lazy morning, we took an early lunch, because I had asked Teresa to prepare me for Lars' homecoming. She knew better than anyone what he liked, and I knew I could trust her to make me beautiful. Now she came to my room in her maid's uniform of a tiny black silk minidress over fishnet tights – she grinned sheepishly when she lifted her skirt to how me that the tights were open-crotch ones – with black patent stilletos and a delicate gold ankle-chain.

While I showered, Teresa put out my clothes.

'The Master likes things like this,' she told me, and when I saw what she had selected for me, I knew she was right.

I buttoned myself into the stiffly-boned red satin corset, then winced when Teresa laced it up in back until I could hardly breathe. My naked breasts were pushed up on top of the lace frill at the corset's top, and Teresa wordlessly handed me the gold nipple clamps. I looked a question at her.

'Your lovely breasts will look even prettier with those on,' she said, so I carefully clipped them on to my nipples, wincing again as they bit terribly into the engorged flesh – wearing the corset had already aroused me, making my nipples throb and grow hard. I clipped my waist-chain over the corset, while Teresa fetched my black, lace-top stockings. I rolled them on, and attached them to my long garter straps, then stood up to wriggle into the black transparent sheath she handed me. It had long, tight sleeves and a high neck. Its hem was just above my knees, and consisted of a broad leather band, which was pulled tight by means of a big silver buckle. I stepped into silver-heeled stilettos sandals, then sat down at my mirror while Teresa brushed my hair, and put me on a pair of long drop ear-rings.

She had just finished when we heard the Master's car draw up, and as a finishing touch, she clipped a bejewelled leash to the ring in my collar, smiled at me, and led me out to meet my Master. I didn't think I had ever looked remotely as sexy as this, and there was something highly erotic about being led by my maid.

Lars strode in with an executive case in his hand, his raincoat over the other arm, looking serious. He stopped in his tracks as he saw us, his mouth falling open.

'My Katherine!' he exclaimed, 'you look sensational!'

He took the end of my leash from Teresa, and pulled me to him, kissing me as if he were desperate.

'I've been eaten up with worry,' he said.

'Whatever for, sir?'

'I thought I might have hurt you too much, the night before I had to go away. I thought you might have decided to leave, after that. I've been almost frightened of coming home.'

'Oh Master,' I whispered into his ear, 'I love you so much, and as for hurting me – you must know that's what I want, what I want more than anything in the world.'

'And Teresa, she has helped prepare you, han't she?' He looked appraisingly at the little brunette, who was stood respectfully to one side, her hands behind her back.

'Welcome back, Master!' she said.

'Teresa would like to undergo some training, too, whenever it is convenient, sir,' I said.

'Yes,' he said, 'we'll have to talk about that. But first things first – I want to enjoy my beautiful slave. Come into the lounge with me – both of you.'

Once there, Lars sat down, his long, slim body sprawled nonchalantly in an armchair, and told me to walk up and down, so that he could look at me, while Teresa fetched drinks. Walking was no easy matter with the hem of my dress fastened tightly just above my knees, obliging me to take tiny steps. Lars' eyes never stopped following me, even when Teresa put a large Scotch in his hand, but then he said, 'Come on, we'll go downstairs!' and waved the end of my leash at Teresa, who took it from him.

He got lithely to his feet, and went quickly though the door, and down into the basement, leaving the maid to lead me down. When we got to the top of the steps, I saw that he was already sitting on the couch below. He had wanted to watch me negotiating the steps – which wasn't at all easy with my legs effectively hobbled. However, Teresa helped by going very slowly, and we reached the basement without incident.

Lars got up, and walked across to a padded block, like a vaulting-horse, that I hadn't seen before. It was equipped with leather straps at each corner.

'Take your dress off!' he instructed, and I unzipped it down the back, while Teresa undid the buckle at the hem, then I wriggled out of it, so that I was stood wearing just the cruel corset, stockings and shoes. He stood in front of me, and, without saying a word, unscrewed the nipple clamps, bringing instant biting pain as the blood rushed suddenly into my excited nipples. I grimaced, but to silence me, he pulled me close and kissed me, slowly and deeply on the lips, savouring the experience, transporting me to heaven.

'I love you, my Katherine,' he said, but when he pulled away, he beckoned Teresa over, and pointed to the straps on the block, then stood aside.

In no time, I found my wrists encircled by leather straps at one end of the block, my ankles similarly bound at the other, so that I was secured, face-down, bent over the block, my legs apart, presenting my bare ass. At first I was sure he was going to whip me, and prepared myself for the thrilling, terrible, kiss of the lash, but then felt him smearing something around my anus. Before I had realised fully his intention, I was suddenly, brutally speared, as he drove his long, rigid cock, in one great thrust, deep, deep into my asshole.

'Aah!' he gasped, as he remained motionless, filling my whole body, it seemed, with his rampant maleness, then Teresa knelt before me, and kissed me gently as my Master started slowly to drive in and out of my velvet tube, giving me a sensation that transcended pleasure – ecstasy would be a better description of the sensation I knew.

'Cum in my ass! Cum into me, Master!' I breathed, between agonised moans, as his pace increased, then I lost all control, and came in what seemed like torrents, triggering off his mighty final, shuddering thrust as he shot his hot load into my bowels.

Later, we sat together, cradling drinks, and he told me about his business trip, whilst Teresa busied herself making dinner. I asked him what he thought about our idea of getting pierced, and he said he was in agreement where I was concerned, but that he would prefer if Teresa waited a while: 'We'll know when it's time,' he said, 'Now go and change for dinner, and we'll have a quiet evening – I'm a little tired.'

While we ate, Lars dressed in an immaculate white tux, me in a long white silk halter-neck gown, he said almost casually, 'I'd like to whip you in the morning, my dear.'

'Yes, Master.'

'So perhaps you'll dress appropriately after breakfast, then come to my room.'

I raised my eyebrows – surprised that he had told me to go to his room, and not to the basement, or at least the lounge.

'I have something different in mind,' was all he said.

I slept surprisingly well that night, and Teresa woke me up with a breakfast tray.

'Can I do anything for you?' she asked when she came to collect the tray.

'You can put my hair up for me,' I told her.

'You're going to wear it up?'

'Yes,' I said, 'to keep it out of the way.'

'Oh,' she said, 'then you're going to be whipped?'

'Yes, Teresa.'

'Aren't you frightened?'

'A little,' I admitted, 'but it's so exciting, as well.'

'It must hurt terribly.'

'Oh yes, it does, but the pain is like a drug – I want more. I really believe I could die under his lash. Last time he whipped me, I came twice while he was doing it.'

The Colombian was fascinated, and kept asking me questions as she put my hair up in a French knot. I couldn't answer many of them, because I hadn't really formed my own opinions about my new lifestyle yet – I just knew it was what I wanted, that for the first time in my life I was truly happy. I was in love, and a part of me didn't want to share my Master with Teresa.

I slipped on the long white cotton dress, and asked Teresa to shackle my ankles and cuff my wrists, and clip a leash onto the ring in my collar. I checked the mirror, and again thought I looked like some medieval heroine going off to be executed – presumably that was the effect Lars wanted.

I let the maid lead me to Lars' room, then, as she left me there, and went off to her kitchen duties, I knocked the Master's door.

'Come in!'

I went in, and he was sat in an armchair, reading, dressed in a dark blue silk dressing gown. He put the book down on the arm of the chair, and nodded to me.

'Go into the bathroom!' he told me, and I shuffled through the door, my chain clanking on the tiles. He followed me in.

'Under the shower!' he rapped, and I started to unbutton my dress, hampered by the handcuffs.

'I said nothing about getting undressed,' he said sternly, his breath hot on the back of my neck as he came up behind me. He walked round me in the huge, mosaic-tiled shower alcove, and grasping the chain which connected my wrists, lifted it up above my head until I thought he would wrench my arms from their sockets, slipping the chain over the shower-head, which was some way above my head, so that I was forced to stand on my toes.

'Hmmm!' he mused, standing back to look at me, 'very nice!'

Then, quickly, he reached around me and turned on the shower control. A stinging torrent of freezing cold water cascaded over me, taking my breath away, drenching me instantly, so that the thin cotton dress moulded to me like a second, soaking skin. After a couple of minutes, he turned off the shower, and left the bathroom, so that I was sure I should get pneumonia, suspended there, sopping wet and frozen stiff.

But my Master was back in no time, carrying a long leather implement.

'I will introduce you to the singletail whip,' he said, 'I believe it hurts a lot, and your wet skin will enhance its effect, even through your dress.'

Without further delay, he stood back and gave the whip a trial swing, and it fizzed as it passed close to me. His next stroke fell across my drenched back, and I screamed as I felt its awful bite just under my shoulder blades. He tortured me through twenty more vicious strokes, making me count every one after the first. After ten, he paused and asked me if I could take ten more.

'Yes, Master!' I told him, and writhed in agony as my punishment continued. A couple of brutal strokes into the second ten, I felt an orgasm approaching like an express train, and I slumped under it raging force as the next stroke lashed my ass. I think my scream must have told him I had cum, but his whip wasn't stilled.

As soon as I had taken the twenty strokes, he unhooked my wrists and forced me to the floor, then parted his dressing gown to reveal a mighty erection. I rounded my lips and took him in my mouth, but it would be more accurate than describing it as a blow-job, to say that he brutally fucked my mouth, and after half a dozen choking, pounding slams, he shot his hot load of spunk deep down my throat.

When I had tenderly dried my naked body – and I found that his whip had actually torn my dress in several places - Lars rang for Teresa, who took me back into the bathroom, where I looked in wonder at the red wheals which he had caused, all over my back, ass and upper thighs, and which Teresa now tended with loving care.

At lunch, I sat demurely in a soft summer print dress, my ass aching, my back sore as hell, but Lars was attentive and solicitous.

'I have nothing planned for the rest of the day,' he said, 'so you'll have some time to recover before tomorrow night.'

'Tomorrow night?'

'Oh, I thought I'd told you. Marcelo and Selina are coming to dinner. I did say that I'd loan you to them some time, so I may let you go home with them for the night.'

'Master,' I said, aghast, 'It's you that I love. I don't want to go with anyone else.'

'If you do indeed truly love me, you will want to do as I say, ' he said, in a tone that brooked no argument.

After lunch the next day, as I was just going to my room to rest, my master said, 'Backless, tonight, my dear, I think.'

'But then my marks will show.'

'That's right!' he nodded. Looking back at him over my shoulder as I left, I went to lay down.

Later, I came down to greet our guests. I had followed my Master's instructions, and wore the silver, silky, halter-necked gown which left my back completely naked, right down to the start of my ass-cleft. When I had looked over my shoulder into my long mirror, I saw that it would be impossible not to notice the random pattern of red curling lines which criss-crossed my pale flesh, the whole length of my back. My unfettered breasts jiggled as I walked, nipples jutting out through the soft, thin material. Apart from the gown, I wore only my Master's waist-chain and collar, and a pair of extravagantly high needle-heeled sandals. I had brushed my long black hair out until it shone then braided it into a long rope, so that it didn't cover my wounded back.