When the Cat's Away… Ch. 08

Before I had the chance to reach down for the phone, one black boot had shot out and knocked it behind me. If I had thought about it, the reason would have been obvious. I spun around and bent at the waist to retrieve my phone. Of course, and really it shouldn't have been any surprise, the little red dress rode up appealingly at the back, exposing the string panties running down between my ass cheeks. I froze, feeling a gentle hand caress my ass cheek before running down between my legs. Without thinking I spread them slightly, as if conditioned to make myself accessible. Fingers stroked my sex through the skimpy fabric of my panties, then . . .

"Ow!" I shouted as a hand slapped hard against my bare ass.

"What was that for?" I asked, grabbing the phone, standing back up and spinning around to face her before Gemma had a chance to hit me once more.

"For not obeying what Mistress had asked of you," she replied.

"But . . . I . . . I wore the dress."

"Oh yes, and it looks fabulous on your petite frame. But . . ."

I watched as she reached down and lifted up the front of the dress.

". . . I don't remember Mistress leaving any panties, however sexy they may be, with the outfit. So, I guess, you didn't follow her orders. And, what's more, shouldn't you be wearing something else?"

"Something else? OK, you got me on the panties but there wasn't anything else."

"Something you should have brought with you? Something Mistress gave you as a sign of your ownership, your obedience?"

Suddenly the penny dropped. The collar. I had it in my bag, but in the excited anticipation of my new role, I had totally forgotten to wear it.

"I'm s . . . s . . . sorry," I stuttered. "It's in my bag. It just . . . it just slipped my mind, in the excitement of being here. Give me a minute and I'll . . ."

I never finished the sentence, Gemma cutting me off in mid-speech.

"That's a good idea. How do you think Mistress would feel if she knew you had forgotten to wear the beautiful collar she had given you? I'd hate to have to tell her how you had broken the rules on your first day."

Before Gemma had time to continue, I had already retrieved the collar and was busying myself to secure it around my tiny neck. It was as I did this that I glanced at Gemma's neckline. There was no collar in sight. I knew better, but still I asked the obvious.

"What about your collar?"

"Oh, you have much to learn, my little one," she replied, at the same time rummaging in one of the hidden drawers. "I'm so happy that Mistress has given me permission to teach you."

I watched as Gemma turned back to face me, her hand now clutching a coil of black leather. Purposefully, almost forcefully, she paced towards me. I held my breath, suspecting what was to come. Naty, sorry Mistress Natalia, had already warned me a couple of times about being obedient, wearing the collar whenever I was with her and using the correct term to address her. She had even made me utter that word, the word which came with disobedience . . . the word was . . . punishment. I closed my eyes as Gemma drew close, that single word filling my mind. In the darkness I could almost feel the sting of that single leather strand as it bit down on my bare ass. All I had done was momentarily forgotten to wear my collar. Was it really deserving of a whipping? It was like I could feel everything. Her footsteps as she came close, the trace of fingers as they ran down my cheek and then her warm breath on my neck.

"That's a good slut," Gemma whispered. "Now, are you going to be a quick learner, or will I need to spell it out for you?"

In that moment I felt like a naughty schoolgirl. I had done wrong and teacher was going to punish me. I knew not to object, not to make matters any worse than they already were. I simply stood there, and waited . . . waited . . . waited, for what never came. Instead of the swish of leather, a single metallic click was the only sound. I opened my eyes as Gemma backed away. She still held the leather strap, or at least she held one end of it. The other was now attached to the loop on my collar. As I watched, Gemma removed any slack to the point of almost pulling me towards her.

"There, that's better," she said, smiling broadly at her handiwork and knowing that I was under her control. "Now, where shall we start? A little tour around the office sounds like a good place."

My eyes probably said it all. Was she being serious? Was I going to me paraded around the office on the end of this leash, like nothing more than a simple slave girl? Yes, I'd done the exposure in the office thing, but this was something else, something much more degrading than just wearing a slutty set of clothes and flashing the odd bit of flesh.

"Oh, but I nearly forgot."

"Forgot what?" I asked.

"Forgot about those little panties you are wearing. Now, slut, are you going to be a good girl and take them off or will I have to make you?"

The smile on her face told me that Gemma would enjoy making me remove them. I wasn't going to give her the pleasure though. I was, however small it may be, going to keep just a little of my own dignity. There was nothing seductive in the way I removed the skimpy garment. I simply hoiked up the front of my dress and, holding it in place with my forearms, looped my fingers around the waistband of the panties. Then in a single movement I pulled them down, flashing my fiery bush, before finally allowing the dress to drop back into place.

There was a slight shake of the head and an, almost audible, tut from my captor. I gave a questioning look—I really didn't know what I had done this time to bring such a disapproving gesture—but Gemma was already one step ahead in whatever she had planned for the day. A pull of the leash, downwards, told me it was time to move on.

"On your knees, slut!" Gemma commanded.

I just stood there. For all I liked this young woman, and actually I had to confess that the dominance thing was a bit of a turn on—it was the confident, controlling nature of Naty which had gotten me into this whole arrangement in the first place—I wasn't going to have her treat me in this way. For Naty, I might have played along, but Gemma wasn't Naty. What control did she have over me, anyway?

Another pull of the leash was followed by another command. Once again, I stood my ground, expecting Gemma to realise she wasn't getting her own way. I guess she did so as, instead of pulling downwards, Gemma now pulled me forward. I had no option but to follow her towards the desk. As I stood on one side, Gemma walked around to the other, relaxing the long leash as she went. Before long we faced each other across the brown table top, her facing the door and me the windows.

"Bend over!" came the next command.

I just smiled. If she wanted me to bend over then she was going to have to make me. In that moment I learnt just why the desk was decorated in so many metal rings. She had been quick, looping the free end of the leash through one ring and pulling hard. She was strong and before long the collar was digging into the back of my neck, painfully. In an effort to gain relief, I bent over. As I bent, the leash shortened. Before long, my top half was pretty much lying across the soft leather desk. Finally, Gemma stopped, reaching down out of sight at the side of the desk before taking a step back and smiling at me. I tried, with all my effort, to get up again but with no success. I could only guess that the leash had been tied to one of those metal loops.

"Okay, okay, I've learnt my lesson," I pleaded. "You can let me up now."

"Oh, I don't think so," came a teasing response. "Maybe you don't quite understand what that collar represents and what it means to be owned. It is better I teach you that lesson. If Mistress must do it, then it will be much harder for you. I can vouch for that."

I struggled against the leash, but to no avail. Okay, well to say I struggled was probably a bit over the top. It was more for effect than through intent. I knew there was no escape from my predicament, yet I felt better for having put on a show of trying. Actually, and against my expectations, the experience of being restrained was just a little bit exciting. Why I was feeling excited was a bit of a mystery, but excited I was. It was though a feeling tinged with an edge of fear. I'd felt similar before, usually before Steffen went into one of his rough fucking sessions, but this was taking it to the next level.

I listened as Gemma, now out of my field of vision, rummaged around in the background once more. She returned, hands full, and started to lay her treasure trove down on the soft leather table top. I gasped as what looked like a riding whip, stiff shaft with loop of leather dangling at one end, was first to be deposited. That was followed by what could only be described as a wooden paddle. It was something like a miniature rounded cricket bat but with a rather long handle for the size of the blade. Finally, was a multi-stranded whip, a short handle connected to some twenty or thirty soft-looking leather strips.

"So, slut, you're not really in a position to choose, but I will grant you this one wish. Tell me, slut. Tell me which one you would like me to use on your soft ass. Will it be the sting of the riding crop, the caress of the paddle or maybe the bite of the flogger? Don't take all day though. I could always decide to use all three."

"Shit," was the only thought which came to mind. She had me tied down and now she wanted me to pick my own punishment. The crop scared me, so it had to be the paddle or the flogger. I'd felt her hand slap down on my bare flesh earlier, so I sort of thought I knew what to expect with the paddle. The flogger though was a bit of an unknown.

"Come on, slut!" she ordered. "I'm waiting."

"The . . . the . . . the paddle," came a nervous reply.

"Oh, good choice. I would probably have done the same in your position. Now, I do hope you're not too much of a squealer."

Gemma picked up my chosen instrument of torture and dangled it in front of my face.

"Look how the polish glints in the light," she teased, as she swished the paddle from one side to another, before bringing it down gently on my cheek. "Can you feel how smooth it is? Wouldn't you like to feel its smoothness against your soft ass?"

I trembled slightly as I watched Gemma disappear behind me. Maybe, just maybe, she was only wanting to scare me, to make a point of how she was in control. If that was the case, then she had done so. I waited, for what seemed to be an eternity, wondering just what she was intending.

The silence simply added to my apprehension. I felt my dress being raised up above my hips, not that it covered much of my ass in this position anyway, and then the gentle caress of a hand against my naked flesh. I relaxed a little, somewhat relieved in the assumption that she was intent on nothing more than caressing my soft cheeks. A playful slap, and a kick at my ankles told me to spread them wider. I duly obeyed, knowing that I was now giving my tormenter a full view of my snatch. There was something strange, something I couldn't quite understand. I was just a little scared, my trembling told me that, yet at the same time I had to say that there was a flicker of excitement inside. It was the latter I couldn't put my finger on. Was it the thought that this young woman could take my sex any way she wanted, and I could do nothing about it, or was it something else? Something more physical?

"Ready?" Gemma asked, so politely.

What if I had said no? Would she have given up on the idea of punishing me? In the end I didn't reply, but simply bit my lip and waited. When it came, it was a soft slap against my naked flesh, softer even that when she had slapped me with her hand. One by one, soft blows caressed my bare ass cheeks. I relaxed, quite enjoying the gentle massage that my backside was receiving. If I didn't know better, I would have said that I could get used to this type of punishment. I could only imagine how I looked to my tormentor. I could feel it in my loins, the tingles of excitement flickering in my sex and just a touch of dampness inside.

I guess Gemma must have noticed it too as, in a break from proceedings, a hand cupped my sex, long fingers soon running along my snatch. I moaned softly at her touch, hoping she was intent on turning her attention to my waiting pussy. Much to my disappointment a sudden pain, heat searing through my backside, told me she was only teasing. The blows were fewer and further between, but each left a stinging burning feeling accompanied by a loud yelp of pain. I lost count of the number of blows but suffice to say that when it was finally over, I could still the fires burning. They were, though, not the fires I was hoping for. These were not the flames of passion, but more the burning pangs of pain.

"Now, where is that phone of yours?" came a rather surprising question.

Before I could answer, she had taken the phone once more and positioned herself back behind me.

"There," she responded, placing the phone back on the table. "One more little selfie for your collection."

I turned my head, as far as I could, and glanced at the screen. There, was a picture of my naked ass, the pale flesh on each cheek now a shade of rosy red. It was no wonder that I could still feel the burn. What surprised me though was my sex itself, my lips now taking on an aroused, engorged look. As the screen faded, I could still see the image in my mind, and I liked what I saw.

I felt my restraint loosen and slowly, a stiffness now in my lower back, I stood upright facing Gemma.

"I'm sorry, but I think you needed to be taught what is your current position. That collar around your neck is a symbol of your ownership. Unless you are given the option, then you are to follow what is asked of you. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, Mistress Gemma," I found myself replying.

"Oh, I am not your Mistress. If I was, then I wouldn't have gone so easy on you."

My mind was confused. Had she really said she wouldn't have gone so easy on me? Earlier she had mentioned that she could vouch for Naty being much harder. Had Gemma been in the same position but had Naty been the one to teach her the lesson? Suddenly I was back in that cabin reliving a comment that Naty had made as to how they sometimes used it for training purposes. Had Gemma undertaken one of those training sessions?

"Now, show we start again?" came Gemma's softened voice. "On your knees, slut," she commanded in a less forceful way.

I found myself, without hesitation, kneeling in front of this woman. It was degrading, yet at the same time I sort of knew it was nothing more than I deserved.

"Good slut. I think you have learnt today's lesson. Now, would you like me to show you around?"

"Yes, please," I responded.

Slowly, Gemma in front and me waddling behind on my knees, we set off down the corridor towards the lifts. My heart sank as she pushed the down button. She really intended to parade me around the office as her submissive slut. I knew I had no option but to comply. The bell rang and the doors opened. Much to my surprise, we didn't enter.

"Well done, slut," she commented. "I think you have learnt your place but let this be a lesson. Next time we might actually take the lift downstairs."

I took a huge sigh of relief.

"Now, shall we get on with some actual work? We can have more fun later, but Mistress won't be happy if we haven't made the necessary arrangements."

"Arrangements?"

"Yes, she's holding an event in a couple of weeks for some of her most important clients and she's asked us to do the necessary. You can stand now, if you want."

I hadn't realised how natural it had suddenly become to kneel in front of this woman. Gemma, Naty, they could have been one in the same. I now knew my position in their company. I hesitated before finally standing. Together, joined by the single leash of leather, we walked back to the office. Gemma closed the door behind us. It was down to business now.

I stood and waited, my hands by my side and my head bowed ever so slightly. I had become the submissive slut, waiting to be given my next commands, wanting to avoid another paddling on my still tender ass. I felt the tug on the leash as Gemma pulled me towards her. What were her intentions? Was she looking to degrade me further, bound to the chair or maybe atop the table itself?

I had to admit that I really didn't know what I wanted. What had happened in that short time had really confused my emotions. It had been exciting to be dominated, restrained and punished. But then there was the degradation, the humility of being treated as little more than a willing slave. Underneath both though, was the knowledge of what servitude could bring, the delights of pleasing my Mistress. Gemma though was not my Mistress, so why was I having similar feelings about her? Was I simply lost in the moment, pandering to their immediate needs, or was this another side of my character coming to the fore? If I had taken the time to think, something I tended not to do so much these days, I might have noticed the similarities with my real life. With Steffen, he would take the lead and I would follow, the ever-willing obedient wife . . . the submissive wife.

Why though was I letting them treat me this way? Was it simply the avoidance of pain, or did I just want it to happen?

I was broken out of my contemplation by Gemma's mouth pressing gently against mine. It was such a sensitive kiss, so different to the way she had paddled me earlier. Every move was pure seduction as she caressed my waiting lips. I was so engrossed in the embrace that I never noticed her unclipping the leash. I was hoping that this was the type of business Gemma had been referring to, but it seemed not as all too soon she pulled away.

"You liked that, didn't you slut?"

"Yes," I replied head once again bowed.

"Yes, what?"

I was confused. Naty was my Mistress and I was sure she was Gemma's also. Gemma herself had already told me that she wasn't my mistress, so how did she want to be addressed.

"I'm confused. You told me you were not my mistress, so how should I address you?"

"That's right, your Mistress is the one who gave you the collar and should be addressed as such. You can simply refer to me as . . . Gemma."

"Yes, Gemma," I responded.

"In situations like this, I will call you slut and you will call me Gemma. Having a name shows your position in Mistress' family. One day you will get your name back, Claudia. Such a pretty name, but first you will have to earn it back. For now, though, you will be known as slut whenever you are wearing the collar. Do you understand, slut?"

"Yes, Gemma," I responded again, bowing my head slightly further.

"You asked about my collar. Yes, I have one, just like yours. And, yes, I still wear it, usually when Mistress expects me to be nothing more than a slut. At other times I have this."

She rolled up the sleeve of her dress and showed me a black bracelet. I'd seen one before, adorning Jack's wrist, and the penny dropped. The collar was the most visible sign of ownership, and the bracelet signified a higher position in the family.

"At least you do understand one thing, slut. You understand your position and how, when being addressed by your mistresses, you will stand or kneel, hands behind your back and head bowed. You have nearly mastered that already, I see."

Quickly I moved my hands from my sides and held them together behind my back. Here she was, younger than me, yet in a position of power. I was being controlled and degraded, and yet I wanted to be seen to be compliant, to accept my position, to submit to what I knew I was. I had lost my name. Now I was simply to be called . . . slut.