Retraining the Little Bitch

I understand this is a long lead in to a story, but the following chapters will be worth it I think and this is necessary to set up the story properly. Bear with me.

I had been a BDSM Master all my adult life and mysti was the best little slave slut I had ever had. There quite literally wasn't anything she hadn't professed into wanting to try. At 4'11" and 110# she was a little hottie and her ass was one of those that if you were assembling the template for the perfect female body, you would want for that portion of the anatomy. It was, simply stated, exquisite. It would soon become a good target.

She had that timeless look of youth any man would covet. She was 19 (I had seen her passport) but could easily pass for 14.

I say she was the best, but that was limited to her desires and her looks. In other ways she was woefully inadequate.

When she first came to me, online on AOL, she had asked for a collar then promptly balked and vacated it without so much as a "by your leave." Then she came back and I re-collared her.

She came to me for real-time training and after a very enjoyable week for both of us, she went back home. I lived in Texas and she lived in Missouri.

As soon as she got back to Missouri, she started acting like she was going to vacate my collar again.

About a month after returning home she called and asked for release. I granted it, because this is supposed to be "voluntary fun," but immediately put my plan together to get her back into my collar.

I loved her timidity and her seeming shyness, but she needed the discipline and structure of a collar or she would spend her life drifting from relationship to relationship, and unhappy. And he naivete would get her in trouble, regularly. So, I immediately started to put my plan together.

Part of the problem, was that when she had come to me, I had been in a down cycle that life presents us with on a regular basis, or at least had all my life. That almost immediately started to change as soon as she left. First, I had to go to the bottom, before I could come back out. Nature's rule, not mine.

I was fired from my job two weeks after she left. So I was atthe bottom. The nice thing about being at the bottom is there is only one direction to move in, Up. That unless you let it get to you, and commit suicide or something. I just wasn't built that way, though.

Her new Master, or should I say the man she was talking to about becoming her Master was extremely controlling. Her contact with me was immediately severely curtailed. So I stopped trying to get in touch with her at all.

Then a miraculous thing happened. An insider contacted me. This isn't the first time this has happened. I don't know whether it is the Fates intervening or a manifestation of my limited psychic abilities? My catbird as I refer to them filled me in on things I would never have thought possible from my understanding of her. Once I thought on it though it made all the sense in the world. She wasn't much of a communicator. She would give you a word or two to tell you what you wanted to hear and letyo fill in the blanks, just agreeing with what you said. Then figure she could extricate herself if the need arose. From the information I received through this person, I found out a lot of things about this man she was "interviewing for a collar."

First he was a hardcore sadist. She had safe-worded when I put a clip on her clit, now she was going to a man who would potentially beat her silly, and likely would ignore safe words. A safe word is designed to protect the submissive from physical harm during period of intense training, like pain/pleasure training usually employed.

She had told him she liked play-rape and that she liked pain. I knew she liked play rape, for I had inquired when I learned of her rape fantasy if she wanted me to arrange for her to get raped for real if it could be done without her getting hurt. She had said yes. It isn't unusual for submissive women in the BDSM lifestyle to have a rape fantasy, and play rape was common role-play. But no woman actually wants to be raped. Mysti was getting herself in real deep and this guy wasn't about to let her squirm out when the rubber met the road.

The pain part was what scared me. He was a sadist and I was certain he had asked her if she liked pain and she had said yes, but her version was like an ass paddling across the knee before sex, mostly foreplay. Not the extended hours of caneing or the nipple piercing followed with titty torture he had in mind.

I loved her and I had to do something to stop this, but the only problem was he was intercepting my emails, or she was forwarding them to him. Further, anything I might say, about him, would only be seen by her as trying to paint him in a bad light, to better my position. So I was hog-tied in what I could do, beyond watching and being ready to "rescue her", if necessary.

It was also apparent she was little more than a gold-digger. Her reasoning for dumping me was that I was in a down cycle, financially. She hadn't said this directly, but her reasons for going to him made it obvious. My down-cycle was the whole reason I had gone back to college.

In 2000 I was making $105/hr as a computer-programming consultant. Then 911 came along and I couldn't get a job in information technology. It was because of several factors. Not really 911, 911 was just the catalyst that brought the other factors to the fore.

It went back to Y2K. There was so much speculation regarding problems with dates and date/time calculations in the new millenium, that IT project mangers had no choice but to throw large amounts of money at the perceived problem. This forced a shortage of qualified people. Retirees came out of retirement to help in the process. Then when Y2K went "bust" meaning there was no problem, the project money for other projects had been used up, and CEO/CFOs and Boards of Directors were unwilling to fund new projects, for a while. Couple that with retirees deciding not to go back into retirement and the glut of the high tech/silicone valley bust of a few year earlier, and the conditions were rife for the economic downturn after 911 to have a heavy-duty ripple effect through the IT sectors.

So I was forced back into menial jobs. I clerked and managed a convenience store for a couple of years at $9.50/hour at my crescendo of earning. I had bought a new automobile right before the bust and was paying $500+/month in payments. So I was even forced to return to living with my mother.

I quickly determined, first, I wasn't going to retire from a convenience store job, and, I wasn't going to live with my retired mother longer than I absolutely had to. So I returned to college to see if I could go to law school. It was an uphill struggle, but I was maintaining a perfect A grade transcript after returning, but I had a legacy GPA from 25 years earlier that was beginning to make my attempts at getting into law school an exercise in futility. I had two aces in the hole, so to speak. One was the LSAT. If I could score well on it, my GPA would mean less in the application process. The other was, there were traditionally all-black law schools. Schools that had been established during the days of separate but equal, which would first off likely make me a minority candidate. An enviable position if you are trying to get something in our affirmative action based society, and second they tended to have lower standards of admission, though they were still ABA approved law schools.

But when I lost my job, though I was still committed to getting my undergraduate degree, I started trying to move back into IT.

It was looking promising, but going slowly, when the Fates intervened again.

I had known since the spring of 2002 that I was going to win a substantial Lottery. I knew this psychicly. The only problem with psychic ability is as it relates to yourself. Likely because you are too close to the subject, things are never very clear, At least not for me, either because it was me or because my psychic ability is limited. I was beginning to think it was only "wishful thinking" it had been so long, since I first felt that way and nothing had happened.

Sure I had won $5 here and $40 there playing Lottery and had even won as much as $200 playing scratch tickets, but that wasn't the win I had perceived and certainly no offset to the amount spent to win it. I just knew I was set to win millions.

Then right before Christmas 2004, it happened. I won $50 million on the multi-state game Texas was a member of. This all happened when these problems with mysti were at their peak. I had had the feeling, again, it was going to happen, so had planned what I would do.

The morning I logged onto the Internet and discovered I was the owner of the winning ticket, my heart started to race. I am sure that is a normal reaction, but mine was more than just being thrust into the ranks of the newly rich. It meant I could reclaim my mysti.

Sure she was a gold-digging bitch, and her naivete had gotten her hooked up with a sadist master, but I loved her. Ain't love a bitch? I have always said, "Love is often a cruel taskmistress." I had seen psychically again, the reason this catbird had come to me was to change my mindset about mysti.

When I had found she could abandon her "professed" love for me just because of money and that she was a gold-digging bitch, I had all but washed my hands of her. Then I found out what I did about her soon-to-be new Master and a love-centered compassion in me rose. I would take her back if she asked, or go get her back if I could, but things would certainly be different.

I went to the state capital the next day and claimed my winnings. Then I started paying some local obligations, arrearage child support, and other stuff. I packed a few clothes and moved out of my mother's despised home and into a nice hotel suite. I went to a men's clothing store and bought several nice suits. And then to a jewelry store and bought a 5-carat engagement ring. The stone on this ring, Marquee cut, looked so large that if she were to go swimming with it on, she would likely go straight to the bottom and drown, or so one might think. It was the perfect "bait" for a gold-digger. When I presented it there would be no way she couldn't realize I had come into some money, somehow. That plus the clothes I would be wearing should do it.

Then to a Lincoln dealership and got fleet prices because I was going to buy a half-dozen vehicles. I had promised a barmaid at Hooter's I would buy her a Lincoln Navigator if I won the Lottery and she had been a friend when I needed one, so I intended to fulfill that promise. I had also told all four of my teenaged sons when they were 16 I would buy their first car. I had given my oldest boy a used car and he promptly burnt the engine up in it. But two others had turned 16 after my downturn and I hadn't been able to buy for them. I ended up buying four Lincoln Navigators and a Town Car. So especially when I said I was paying cash, they were pretty amenable to my terms. I was ready to go now.

I chartered a private jet and flew to where mysti lived. There was a no-frills airline that had a non-stop fare between her city (or close anyway) and mine. This would have been fine with me, but there was also American Airlines and I could fly first class, but I was trying to impress a gold-digger, so the chartered jet seemed the better idea I thought. Besides the Chartered jet added the flexibility of being able to fly directly to her town rather than to St. Louis, a four-hour drive away.

She worked from 10-10 each day at a little Italian restaurant. She would hostess through lunch then waitress through dinner.

I wanted my arrival to be a surprise so I was a bit clandestine locating where the restaurant was and I saw her once, but fortunately she didn't see me. I put my plan in motion. Her community was a vacation destination in the Ozark Mountains. And since it was primarily a summer destination, I got a rustic luxury cabin for cheap.

The day I put the part of my plan that applied to contact with her, into effect, I waited until 9pm to go into the restaurant. This had a three-fold purpose.

First, being late the restaurant would likely be through with its evening meal rush and I could get seated in mysti's section without a problem. Second, this late she wouldn't likely have an opportunity to call her new Master where he could potentially thwart my plan, and lastly, I would be there until she got off work, where my plan was that she would go back to my cabin with me.

I walked into the restaurant, looking dapper in my finely tailored Italian silk suit and overcoat. I also had a Fedora and had grown a beard, hindering mysti recognizing me from afar. My beard was solid white on my chin and salt & pepper on my cheeks, so I would look different until mysti got up close. The hostess greeted me when I walked in.

"Good evening, one for dinner sir?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Smoking or non?"

"I would like to sit in mysti's section, so where ever that happens to be is fine."

"This way sir."

I followed the hostess to a table, and scoped out the area. When she started to seat me in a chair where my back would be to the wait station, I pointed to the one on the opposite side and moved to it. I wanted to see mysti's approach. So far, so good.

Of course I knew once mysti got involved things could change in a way to thwart my plan. I took the menu the hostess offered me and lowered my head to look at it. The brim of my hat would partially obscure my face, but I could see anyone approaching from the wait station. I would normally follow decorum and remove my hat as soon as I sat, but not tonight.

I saw mysti approaching with a glass of water, a basket of bread sticks, and bowl of flavored olive oil for dipping. I had set the menu aside to prompt her service and had reached into my pocket to retrieve the ring in its velvet box.

"Good evening sir, thank you for dining at Luigi's. Are you ready to order?"

I raised my head up to look into her eyes and it was certainly a Kodak moment. Her eyes got as big as saucers once recognition registered in her mind.

"Well I'm not really hungry, my purpose in being here is to reclaim what is mine. So I guess I will take the appetizer sampler."

I opened the box and laid it on the table in front of her. The diamond sparkled like it should and her eyes got even bigger.

"Will you marry me and make me the happiest man on earth?"

She stuttered and stammered a minute then the fact I couldn't have afforded that big a stone without a sizeable chunk of change in the bank account must have registered in her mind. She gathered her aplomb and responded.

"Gosh Chuck, I never envisioned you being able to come for me this way, and I must say I am pleased."

I had no illusions in regard to her response or the false genuineness of it. It was her gold-diggers heart that was putting the words in her head likely, and not some deep love for me. That's OK I could afford the gold-digger, I did love her, and my revenge would be sweet when the time came. I recalled from the movie "Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan," the old line Ricardo Montalban used in his role as Khan. "There is an old Klingon proverb that says 'revenge is a dish best served cold'." All my life I had avoided being a vengeful Scorpio, but I was going to enjoy this. It occurred to me at that moment I was no different than the sadist that she was running to. Mysti must bring this out in people.

"So will you marry me?" I asked again.

"Yes, of course."

"Well then that is yours, put it on."

She picked up the ring and slipped it on her finger. It was a perfect fit, I had guessed the size of her dainty little fingers perfectly.

"With that ring also goes my collar. You will be going with me tonight when you get off."

"OK." Was her only response, I began to assert myself.

"That is not an acceptable answer and you know it."

She lowered her voice and looking around quickly to make certain she wouldn't be overheard spoke again.

"Yes Master."

"You aren't to contact Espitia without me present, am I clear?"

Espitia was her potential Master. With that last name and living in NM he was no doubt of Mexican decent.

"Yes, Master. Let me get your order in and I will come back and sit with you. You are my only customer now and there won't likely be any others tonight."

She left and returned a few minutes later and sat in the chair next to mine.

"You get off what at about 10:30?"

"Yes, Sir, but when we are slow like tonight we usually have the prep for the next day done by closing, so more like 10:10."

"You will go home with me tonight. Back to the cabin I have rented."

"Yes Sir. How can you afford all of this? Cabins aren't cheap."

The gold-digger was in fact-finding mode. It was time to feed the fire.

"First it is the off-season and cabins are cheaper. Second I won the Lottery. I have $50 million dollars, now."

Her eyes got big again and I could almost here the cash registers going chu-ching in her money-grubbing, pretty little head.

"I can get the place I have always wanted and we can travel like we talked about."

"Let me check on your order."

She got up and left the table returning with a plate full of stuffed mushrooms and other Italian appetizer fare. And a plate and cutlery for me to eat it with.

"Get yourself a plate and join me, I can't eat all this."

She got a plate and we ate in virtual silence. I guess perhaps she did have a sense of shame, even if it was a small one. Her guilt of having abandoned our love (if in fact she had ever really loved me), was rearing its ugly head. That or she was already spending my money in her head. I thought to assuage her guilt a little, if guilt was what it was.

"Now I can give you all the things I have wanted to and then some."

She just smiled and continued to toy with her appetizers. It was a quarter to ten and we had exhausted all we could say in public, and I gave her, her marching orders.

"I am going to pay my bill and we are leaving, now. You need to go tab out or whatever you do to close your shift, and give them notice that you quit. We are leaving now."

She started to protest, but saw the look on my face I guess and just resigned to it.

"Yes, Master. But I need to give notice don't I?"

"You will never have to work again and won't be living in the area any more and I quite frankly don't trust you enough to allow you to work out a normal two-week notice period. From what I see they shouldn't mind, it is the off-season and so business is slow. Just tell them you are engaged and your soon-to-be-husband is taking you out of state, tomorrow."

"Yes, Master."

I pulled one of those fancy folio-style billfolds out of my coat pocket and peeled a $100 bill from the bunch in there, making sure she saw all the others keeping it company, and handed it to mysti.

"Keep the change as your tip and get your coat, we're leaving."

"Yes, Sir."

She rose and returned a few minutes later her coat in hand. I stood and put my coat and muffler on and my Fedora and we left the restaurant.

I had rented the nicest car the local rental company had but it was only a Ford Crown Victoria, like a police cruiser, but it served the purpose of transportation in the area. She snuggled in close on my arm, as I drove. I wasn't sure if it was good feelings (I hesitate to call it love), or if she was just cold. It was after all December in Missouri.

We walked into the nicely appointed cabin a few minutes later and I took my coat off and went to the refrigerator to retrieve the bottle of champagne chilling there. It was already in a bucket of ice, the neck wrapped in a waiters towel as it would be served in nice restaurant, and I carried it and two stemmed champagne glasses to the table.