Sarah's Adventure Ch. 01

"Horny little slut, aren't you?" she commented. I could sense her standing behind me, as I thrust my ass out, but I didn't dare look back.

"Yes, Ms. Lucy," I whispered, unable to trust my voice. Truth was, I felt a little cheated by the whole thing. I had wanted her to make me stay and do it, not offer me a way out or give me a choice in the matter.

"Call me 'Mistress', or 'Ma'am', unless I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?"

"Yes Mistress, I do," I replied. How natural the title sounded. It came easily, a reverent susurrus, a mantra.

"Good," she commented as she took a seat. "Now strip for me. I want to see what I'll be working with."

Okay --- I wasn't too surprised. I knew that she would get around to it sooner or later, but I thought maybe she would choose a more private time and place, maybe work a little moonlight and roses seduction number. I didn't expect her to have me peel down in the kitchen while she stood watching, but I guess I probably should have, no?

I blushed. I couldn't (or wouldn't?) look at her as I unbuttoned my blouse, but could feel her eyes burning holes through me as I draped it over the chair. My nipples were already hard, poking through the thin bra I wore. "Very nice," she cooed. "Now the skirt. Turn around first."

I wasn't surprised by that. She had asked me all those anal questions, so I assumed she was a bum rather than a breast girl, and I guess she wanted to see what she would be working with. Well, I would do my best to give her a show. My skirt was tight, and as I bent over and started to slither it down my hips, she stood and set her cup down. Alarmed, I threw a glance over my shoulder, just in time to see her run her tongue quickly over her lips. "Eyes forward," she warned, and I quickly faced forward again, trembling slightly as she ran a fingernail down over the dimples above my ass cheeks and let it trail down the crack of my ass.

"Incredible," she said. I let go of my skirt and let it drop, then stepped out of it, and the next instant I was standing there in my underwear. "Those too," she cooed, and without hesitation (well, maybe a little), I undressed all the way. "There you go," she offered, once my panties hit the floor. "Very nice. Incredible skin tone, I'm very impressed with that. Yes, absolutely stunning."

"Thank-you, Mistress."

She snaked a hand between my thighs and dipped a finger into my slit. I started to close my legs, but the look in her eyes stopped me. "Spread those long, long legs." There was a warning in her voice. I spread, pissed at myself for being so totally easy... but once again, this is what I had wanted, what I was looking for and where I wanted to be, wasn't it? Her hand dallied in the valley between my legs until I could feel my clit starting to swell.

"A very tempting offer," she murmured, "but not quite yet." She wiped her fingers across my flat belly, teasing me with the evidence of my arousal. She picked up her tea cup and sat down again. I remained standing and fidgeted, hands still clasped behind my neck, elbows out. "Well, long legs, great skin, a perfect ass... so far so good."

"Thank-you, Mistress."

"Now tell me more about your life."

Hah! And like it was the most natural thing in the world, standing there naked in front of another woman, hands clasped behind my head, legs wide open, chin up, my pussy dripping and trying my best not to look her in the eyes, I started rambling. I told her how I always like to be pushed to find my limits in my normal life, so now I was interested to see what those limits would be sexually and in the bdsm world, I suppose. I told her how I hadn't found very many physical limits on my own yet, so maybe that's where she would come in? I even said that last part with a grin, testing and poking the lion for a second time tonight, before we even truly got started. When prodded, I told her about my high pain tolerance, how the dentist always commented on it, and then how I ran triathlons, obstacle courses, etc. I was always looking for the next challenge, the next way to push myself farther.

We then talked about comforts and then any limits I might want to impose, all the while I was still standing there naked in the kitchen, with her sitting down in front of me. "What's your ideal outcome?" she finally asked. I replied that I wasn't sure, that I had no plans, that I didn't know and kind of liked that. "Me neither," she replied for the first part, shrugging. "Still don't," she smiled for the second. Why did I not believe her? I'm sure she had all kinds of machinations, and the gleam in her eyes was saying as much.

"No expectations?" she asked. "Maybe there's a piece of fiction you like? You must have thoughts, something that you want to grab onto, want to see manufactured?"

I told her how there was one book in particular that I had read, the Beauty Trilogy by Anne Rice, and how it had me all hot and bothered and led me to experiment on my own. I told her how there were nights I couldn't sleep because it had me so entranced and that I couldn't put it down, and how it got me so incredibly horny during and after reading.

"Hmm, I see," she said afterwards with a smile. Or was it a grin? "I've read that book too."

Of course, she had! All I could do was offer a demure smile in return as she asked about my favourite parts and which ones had me squirming as I read. Which parts had me afraid, which parts had me hiding under the covers, which parts had me playing with myself or wanting to make into reality. I told her everything she wanted to know, without hesitation.

"How about getting fucked? she asked afterward.

"Hmmmm?"

"If I want to fuck you, would you be good with that?"

"Ohh. Yes, Mistress," I replied.

"Where? Mouth, ass, pussy?"

"Anywhere, Mistress," I said. Hah! Already I was giving her full permission to do whatever she wanted, and I had absolutely no idea what I was offering myself up for. Of course, I had SOME idea, but really I had no idea at all.

"Hmm, good," she cooed. She had a long wooden stick in her hand, like a long ruler. "Have you ever been hit with one of these?" she asked.

Now where the hell did that come from? "No Ma'am," I replied. See, I told you she was lying when she said she had no plans in store. She was a schemer, this one.

In one surprisingly quick motion, she had me draped over her knees while she sat on the chair. In all my fantasies, I had never considered the intimacy of this position; I could feel the warmth of her breath on my back, her hard thighs under my belly, her hand sliding up and down my ass cheeks and thighs, not to explore the territory but to tell me where the hurt would be.

She hit my ass once and I jumped, but silently, no sounds coming from my mouth. Then again and again, whack-whack, and then again and I let out a little "OOooo" with the fourth smack. Again and again and again, the ruler came down on my ass, while she talked and asked more questions and I answered them all in turn, determined not to let any other sounds escape my lips but my answers to her questions. I maybe let out some soft little moans in between, but I was determined to show her that I was a good girl and that I could take whatever she could dish. She worked the other ass cheek then, delivering 8 smacks like the first, then back to the other one as we asked and answered some more.

"This is one amazingly spankable ass." She continued to slap away and away and finally soft "OOooooh's" started to come out with more frequency. "And I really like those sounds you make," she finished, but then she had me up and standing once more before any more spanks could come down.

"Now bend over, hands on your knees, back arched, and spread your legs, please."

Hah! She added a please to the end of that! I thought that kindly odd.

I know. It was my time to say "Fuck you very much!" and grab my clothes that I had folded neatly on my chair, grab my now reddened ass, and get the hell out of there. I was curious though, swept along in a current, to abuse a cliché, and her finger had just plucked my clit like a guitar string. It was still thrumming.

I turned around and spread my legs, even raised my ass so she would have a full view of everything. So eager to please, eh?

"From now on, you must never cum without permission. You will obey all commands without question, and accept all punishment without complaint." Still behind me, I felt her bare toes tickling up and down between my legs, feeling the moisture pooling there. "You will strive to be accessible to me in all ways."

Her big toe moved up and poked at my anus.

"Ah! That made you clench, didn't it?"

I didn't say anything in reply. The question was rhetorical after all? She had divined the one thing I had found both ever-so-slightly frightening, but more so fascinating. The one thing I had little to no experience with so far but yet but wanted to delve into headfirst (or ass first?), and I felt certain that she would exploit that discovery.

Looking over my shoulder, I saw her take a tube of lubricant out of the pocket of her robe and knew what was coming. "Eyes forward," she commanded, and I thought about that tube as I looked away; how she planned ahead for me, pocketing it before she sat down and waited for her little victim to fly into her web. I suddenly felt as though I were in some X rated movie, and no one had given me a script.

"Bend a little more."

I did, grabbing my ankles with both hands. She smeared my asshole with lubricant, then I felt a finger spearing into me, clear to the knuckle. She wiggled it, finding nerves in there I never knew I had. She added another finger, stretching me, making it hurt ever so slightly. I tightened up. "Please!" I whined.

She shushed me softly. There was something very intimate about having her reach into me like that, and I relaxed again, aware that her fingers were scissoring apart, opening me. I was squeaky clean inside, at least; I had been seeing to that for a long time now, in preparation for the one day when I would let someone in back there. Well, it arrived!

"Stand up and turn around."

I lifted myself up and did as I was told.

She smiled and poured herself another cup of tea. "Play with yourself."

"Now?" I asked. The command had been delivered so casually that I wasn't sure I understood. Though our conversations up until now, not too mention her fingers that were just inside my bum, had been a clue that privacy was one of my luxuries that I would now be doing without, it seemed insane that she would find entertainment watching me play with myself on demand. Once again though, I suppose I should have known better. Had those books I read taught me nothing?

She frowned. "Your hesitation had been noted. Yes, now!"

I dropped a hand to my crotch and began to fondle myself. Self-consciousness made me temporarily numb, but in a few moments my body remembered the familiar sensations of pleasure as my fingers automatically stroked the most sensitive places. The knowledge that I was performing for her was an added stimulus.

"Keep your eyes open," she warned. "Play with your nipples as well."

I tweaked a bare nipple, twisting and pinching it hard. The thought occurred to me that she was studying my technique to find out where my buttons were, so I was deliberately rough. In moments, I was panting and sweating. Ordinarily, my mind would be occupied by fantasies, but now I had no need of them. The reality of masturbating in front of this arrogant, beautiful woman had more potency than anything I could ever imagine. Her eyes bore into mine, and I struggled to keep her gaze. They were filled with cruel humour, but also something deeper and far more intrinsic that connected us. My eyes, I suspected, were glazed and unfocused.

I began to quake -- close, so close!

"Stop," she said.

Reluctantly, I let the hand that was fondling my breast drop for an instant, but continued with the other one down between my legs. I had heard her command, or at least some part of my brain had, and in the second or two it took to really compute her request and to realize that the game had truly begun and I was now the slave and that I was supposed to stop... on some other level I just couldn't. I had already poked the lion twice with my words and maybe once more with my hesitation; call me a rebel or even impudent, and maybe I was starting things off on a bad note, disobeying my second real command and all -- but this whole experience was as much about me testing her, as she was testing me. I wanted to see how far she was willing to go, and wanted to see, maybe just what such a punishment was for disobeying. What exactly did three strikes earn you?

And so I continued, as if I hadn't heard the command, and much to my chagrin she didn't repeat the request either. At least if she had, I might have been able to feign innocence and afterwards say I hadn't heard her the first time, being too busy to concentrate and all that, but she just let me go. She was the master at this after all, and she knew the game and how to play it better than I did. It was all a game of chess, and though I had made the first move, she was the pro and mere seconds later, I was quaking as an orgasm washed through me.

"You are quite a performer, my dear. I can see sexual desire isn't lacking in your firm, athletic body. I like that, a lot, it shows the signs of a true exhibitionist lurking deep inside," Ms. Lucy said as she waited for me to get down from my high. "But you did disobey me..."

"I'm sorry, Mistress." The apology was for the sake of form, of course. I had no illusions that she was about to pardon me and I had no desire to be pardoned either. Wasn't that why I disobeyed in the first place? I was too turned on to resist the temptation, and curiosity alone would have provoked me to continue. I had to know if any reality could match the power of my dreams.

"You will be," she finally said.

Chapter 3: Mistress Lucy's Discipline

"Now I'm going to instil an impression on you," my new Mistress said, as I was once again bent over at the waist. "That I'm really quite serious, and I'm going to keep hitting you until I think my point is made. Of course, you know how to stop it, and if at any point it's too much and you want to call an end to this whole thing, we can do that and never see each other again. No hard feelings. Ready?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Hmm." She stood beside me then, grasped my hair in her hand and wrapping it into a tight ponytail which she held onto. No more stick, she had a cane in her hands now and my eyes were wide. Without hesitation, she started tapping away, softly but repeatedly and in a flurry of hits with no end, all over the backs of my legs to start with. "Nice long legs," she cooed. I shuffled around and her hand grasped my hair tighter, but there was no crying out as the hits landed. "The more you move, the longer I hit." She worked both legs up and down, and I tried to stay silent but then started to let out soft little moans.

"Hmmm, you like that don't you?"

"Yes, Mistress."

She then started to work my calves. "I suspect before the end of the day, I'm going to be hard-pressed not to put a couple of stripes on these nice legs of yours. Especially these pretty calves." Tap, tap, tap. "Would that be OK with you?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Well you're already panting like a tramp," she commented in reply. "And I've hardly hit you at all."

She then began tapping my ass with the cane, little swats, then a hard whack and finally, she got a loud "Ohhhhh!" as the result. Before they had been love taps, like little kisses, but that really stung! "Going to have to leave a couple stripes on that perfect ass for your earlier disobedience, but don't worry, they won't stay for too long."

Whack. "Ahhhh!" Whack. "Ahhhhhh!" Whack. AAaahhh!" They weren't the most painful strikes, not by any means, and I think it was more the shock and awe that was making me cry out, than the actual pain of it. She went back to the tapping then, down my legs, and the soft little moans were coming out again. These I could take, and if anything, I was actually, just mildly, maybe just a smidgen, enjoying the cane. It was much different than the flat ruler, and this light tapping at least, was not at all too much. It was the little pinch of salt you put on an otherwise perfect meal, to enhance the flavour.

"I want you to know, I'll hit you much harder as I get to know you better." A whack! on the right thigh and 'Ohhhh!' then tapping down my left thigh, and then whack! Again, all around, back and forth, and I whined softly. "Breathe. Good girl." Back to tapping away, gently holding me down by my hair anytime I tried to raise my back up. "I just love hitting pretty girls, and you do make the most enticing little sounds," she cooed, tapping away and then whack!

"Ohhhhh!"

"Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes, Mistress!"

"Good. I can hurt you very badly," she paused. Whack! "And make you feel very good, if you're good to me." Another whack, but softer, then I'm stood up straight once more. I get a smile as my eyes catch hers, or maybe it's that grin? Either way, she's the happy cat with her milk, and my ass is blazing! But in a good way, not a hold-your-ass-while-you-ran-from-the-fire kind of way. She turned me around then, pirouetted me once, and then her hands massaged my ass. Firmly, grabbing one cheek and then the next, then slapping a couple of times for good measure to get me to gasp.

I glance at the clock on the wall; it's only been 10 minutes since she first bent me over. She sees my eyes dart to it. "That's right," she cooed, "hasn't been very long at all. Well little one, you sure you're up for some more? "

"Yes, Mistress."

"Kneel down, and sit back on your thighs."

I do as I'm told, the perfect little slave now.

"Am I flipping you out yet?

"No, Mistress. I'm OK."

"Are you trying to figure out if I mean this shit or not?"

"I think you're serious, Ma'am," I replied. I even had a damn smile plastered all over my face, if you could believe it, between the nods and sucking on my lower lip. I'm a mess in between thinking that it's real and thinking that she's making shit up as she goes, and my ass is no doubt red... but here I am kneeling on a slightly cold tiled floor, and where else would I rather be? Nowhere else in the world.

"How are you? Still ok?"

The smile crept back for an instant and then I replied, "Yes, Mistress."

"Hmmm," she huffed, and then she was there squatting beside me. "How about you just go ahead and cry right now, get it out?" She stood and walked around me. "Because," she continued, and right there and then I started to sob soundlessly, eyes closed and almost tearing up, lips pouting. What that frak was wrong with me? I hadn't cried during the ruler spanking, nor the caning, not even a single tear, but now I was all sniffle, sniffle, pouty face. "If we keep going all afternoon with you bottled up like this, it won't be any good." Sniffle-sniffle some more, lips still pouting. "You have to recognize these things right away, and deal with them."

The tears started to flow then and I was truly mind fucked now. "And there's 2 ways to deal with that," she kept going. "Can sit you down, pat your head and make sure everything is OK. Or we can hold you up by your hair, and beat it out of you until you cry. Nothing serious mind you, no major marks," she continued, and I sniffle-sniffled. "There we go, there's the trickle. That's good, let it out," she said and I was truly surprised what hold this woman had over me. I never cried, very rarely anyways, and even while she was whacking away at my ass, the tears didn't come... but now like this, she simply tells me to let it out, and I complied so freely. It wasn't an upset crying, or a painful crying either, and I couldn't really put it into words mind you what it was, since I wasn't used to being in that position.