The Connoisseur Ch. 19

In Which Sarah Meets Alice, and Both Renew Their Acquaintance with Their Old Friends, Master Whip and Master Cock

I left Sarah bound to the tall X frame of a Saint Andrew's cross in the training room, with my subliminal messages working subtly on her unconscious mind through earphones, and with twin vibrators set on low working their subtle magic in her cunt and ass, and went upstairs to my drawing room to await a delivery. It arrived precisely on time, and moments later, I was escorting lovely Alice back downstairs to my wine cellar.

"It's been a long time since first welcomed you down here, hasn't it, Alice?"

She blushed and looked away. "It certainly has, Sir," she said, and I realized I'd missed her charming accent, so like Sarah's in many ways, though softer and higher than my present trainee's sultry alto.

"Tell me, Alice, are you happy?"

Alice beamed. "I am, Sir. My old life, my life as Caroline... it all seems like a dream to me now. Like a nightmare. No real friends, no boyfriends worth a damn. Nothing. Just... just empty, unfulfilled days and lonesome nights."

"I'm glad, Alice."

"Someday... someday I'll have to ask how you knew. About... about me. About things I couldn't admit even to myself. How you knew you could find a way to make feel so... so... content. Safe. Treasured. Womanly."

"Someday perhaps I will, my precious pet. In the meantime, isn't enough that you are happy? Isn't the mystery sweeter that way?"

She raised her eyebrows. "You mean that I'm happier as a captive sex slave than as a free woman with the world at her feet?"

"Just so."

She laughed. "Perhaps I am better off not knowing." She stood on tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek. "But thank you, Sir. Thank you for bringing me home."

I nodded once. "Now then, Alice. Before we proceed into the next room, I believe you know the rules."

Alice blushed again, and I saw her shiver.

"Are you afraid?" I asked her.

"Yes." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Would you like to turn back?"

Her voice was even softer. "No, Sir. Never."

"Then proceed."

Alice wore a simple peasant blouse, cut low, and a long skirt of deep blue. She shrugged off the shirt with the elegant grace of a dancer, swirling her thick mane of blond hair, grown longer since I'd seen her last, in a most enticing manner. Her bra followed, freeing her magnificent breasts with their full, stiffening pink nipples. I ached to take them both in my hands and hungry mouth at once, to pinch and taste them, but with considerable effort I kept my composure, satisfied myself with one simple squeeze, and nodded for her to continue.

Alice removed her shoes next, leather pumps that matched her skirt. The skirt followed, leaving her clad only in stockings and a garter belt of the same deep blue as her skirt. Naturally, she wore no panties. The lips of her plump pussy were visible at the crux of her shapely legs; as with Sarah, a laser had denuded her of her pubic hair permanently.

Alice spun artfully, giving me the full view, proud, bouncing breasts to round, bouncing bottom. She looked up at me then and raised a questioning eyebrow. Should she continue, or leave the stockings and garters? No doubt her new master liked to keep her in that state, nude save for her stockings, and I could scarcely blame him. But Sarah was completely bare, and I wanted Alice likewise. It seemed only fair, after all. I nodded curtly, and she bent in a most tantalizing manner, her heavy breasts hanging down, to remove garter belt and stockings.

I locked cuffs to Alice's wrists and ankles and a slave's collar around her neck, all of stainless steel lined with soft leather, before opening the heavy door to the training room and guiding her, with my hand set firmly just above the swell of her naked bottom, inside.

Sarah, still bound to her Saint Andrew's cross and every bit as naked and vulnerable as the delectable Alice, waited for us inside. And ah, what a delicious pair they were, both fit, voluptuous, and lovely almost beyond comprehension. Perhaps the two most beautiful women I had ever encountered -- which, I confess with all appropriate modesty, is saying a great deal indeed. Here was a twosome of womanly perfection, the very ideals of feminine beauty, both blue-eyed and full-breasted, one brunette and the other blonde, one pale and the other tanned, sister light and sister dark.

I saw them make eye contact, Sarah and Alice, and I watched them regard each other with appraisal, curiosity, and perhaps even a hint of jealousy. And something else. Not quite desire, I suppose, but something akin to it. Anticipation, most likely. Both would know, or guess, that I meant for them to pleasure--and punish--one another. And, of course, both knew they would be expected to please me. Each, doubtless, meant to outdo the other. A competition! That thought made my cock twitch eagerly. I smiled to myself. Whichever of the captive lovelies won, I would be the ultimate beneficiary.

Mostly, I think, they each recognized in the other a kindred spirit. They shared something rare, something most women would never understand. They were sisters, sisters in submission, sisters in slavery.

My goal for the day was to continue Sarah's training, especially when it came to dealing with others of her own sex. With Jane, she had learned to service a Mistress. Now, with Alice, she would deal with an equal, where both captive girls were required to perform for the pleasure of a gentleman, rather than for each other. The goal, then, would be the performance, the show, rather than the climax of the partner.

But if I was to keep my mind focused on my work, I was going to need a little relief. The twitching in my cock had grown (if you'll pardon the pun once more) into a rather large distraction, one I would have to deal with anon.

Leaving Sarah bound, I guided Alice to a padded bench shaped like a gym horse, of the perfect height for bending and binding a naked female bottom over. Just beyond was a second bench, slightly lower, were the girl could rest her head, albeit with her face looking forward, and to which the cuffs on her wrists could be attached. I positioned Alice just so, and locked chains to the cuffs on her wrists and ankles. Next, I added a short chain to the ring on her collar to hold her head in place. I didn't bother to wrap a strap around her waist; I wanted her to have some ability to writhe and buck. I added a ring gag to complete the ensemble, silencing her a bit while giving me access to her warm and waiting mouth. Alice was bound tightly, but her lovely swinging breasts and curved bottom were at my disposal. I paused to give the breasts a lingering caress, enjoying again the feel of her nipples as they swelled under my touch.

I had set up a duplicate set of benches and chains next to those that held Alice, perfectly arranged for dealing with a brace of captive women at the same time. In moments, I had Sarah similarly bound. I saw her smiling just before I tried to insert her ring gag. Then she refused to open her mouth, pressing her full lips tightly shut. The minx wanted to make a game out of it! She wanted me to punish her. Reaching forward, I pinched her nose shut. When she opened her mouth to gasp for breathe at last, I pushed the right in and buckled it firmly in place. Sarah winked at me then.

I reminded myself to punish her indeed later. Her job was to obey, not to tease or provoke. She would learn to be careful what she wished for. That wink was going to cost her bottom dearly.

But later.

By then, the blood in my cock was nearly boiling, and Sarah deserved to be punished, even though her resistence was playful. Alice would share it. That was a lesson both slaves should learn well; what one does can impact (again, forgive the pun) the other.

Moving to my whip wall, I considered carefully, then chose a favorite flogger, one with a longer than usual leather-wrapped handle, and more than double the usual strands of smooth but heavy garment-quality leather. The strands were wider than one usually finds on a flogger, so the sound was louder, more like the clap of a crop or a whip. The crack was loud, too, when it met female bottom flesh, almost as loud as bullwhip. This tool gave me a range of options, from soft, almost caressing swipes to full, heavy blows designed for maximum sting.

And now I had two perfect captive female bottoms, one pale and one tanned, naked and positioned perfectly for attention from a gentleman's whip. I intended to make them both red as a pair of autumn apples.

"Alice, Sarah has earned a punishment just now. Because she is your sister in slavery, what she earns, you, too, will receive. Likewise, if you earn a punishment today, Sarah's bottom, too, will pay the price." I heard Sarah squeal a protest behind her ring gag, and I saw her struggle wildly in her bonds. She'd known she was earning a spanking, she'd clearly done it on purpose, but she hadn't intended to make a stranger suffer with her. I ignored her objection.

I began with Alice. Twirling my wrist, I started the strands spinning rapidly, and then struck the curving slower Alice's left bottom cheek, just above her toned and milky thighs, a solid blow. The great CRACK of the stands of the whip was louder than even I had anticipated, and poor Alice leapt in her chains and squealed behind her gag. Another blow followed, this time to her right bottom cheek.

I decided to repeat the lesson, to be sure that both girls would remember it. "Alice, poor Alice," I said. "You are suffering now for Sarah's misdeed. You are sisters in sexual submission; the rewards and punishments one receives are shared by the other. Let that be a lesson you remember well. When you misbehave, you will be punished, and your sister will share it."

I attended to Sarah's bottom next, raining four sharp blows in quick succession, first to her right cheek, then to the left, and then I repeated the pattern.

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

The gag did little to muzzle the music of Sarah's screams, and it occurred to me for the very first time how very alike were her cries of pain and pleasure. If I didn't know the cause, I am not sure I would be able to distinguish them.

Now Alice was behind (another pun! Forgive me) so I whipped her twice, once on each of her nether globes, to even the score. Her cries, pain and pleasure, were distinct, if equal in enthusiasm.

Both of their bottoms were taking on a fine and lovely shade of pink, so I paused for a long moment to caress them both. A gentleman should always pause to massage the bottom of a woman he is punishing. It soothes her so that the punishment can be prolonged, and it reassures her that she is treasured. Also, he can monitor the steadily growing heat as the bottom is warmed by the firm attentions of his whip. Besides, there is joy in handling a girl's bottom, both for the gentleman and for the captive, especially when it is properly bared. When there are two, the pleasure is doubled. If you have never had the pleasure of alternately whipping and caressing a pair of perfect captive female bottoms, I can't recommend it highly enough.

After attending them gently for a good few minutes, I have them both a sharp spank with my open hand (as always, firm but slightly curved) and then retrieved my flogger and set to work again.

The great CRACK! of the whip provided staccato music to the dance the two girls performed, moving desperately and violently to the very limits of their chains. They shrieked and leapt wildly with every blow, alto and soprano, each providing harmony to the other. I let the strikes fall ever the harder, from above, then swirling up from behind. I made sure that at least a few of the ends of the straps caught the open and moist lips of their cunts and clitorises with the upper cuts. Ah, they screamed especially when I scored a direct hit one their engorged clits!

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

I whipped one girl, then the other, one lovely bottom cheek, then the other, from above, from below. The glow on their bottom cheeks deepened from pink to red.

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

And then I paused again for caresses, marveling at how fast their bottoms where warming. This time, I paid attention to their wet and open cunts, and I heard the shrieks take on different tones indeed.

For a natural slave girl, like Alice or Sarah, pain and pleasure are joined, yin and yang. To neglect one is diminish the other. I alternated between teasing touches and caresses and hard cracks of the whip, until both girls were in a veritable frenzy of arousal, and I feared my cock would surely burst through my trousers.