Danielle: Genesis of a Submissive

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Caroline -- Part Thirty-Three

Caroline got back to the office at half past one and reopened the Fletcher files in the computer. Other than to run to the ladies’ room twice, she didn’t look up from her reading until sometime after six, when Allen came by her office and asked a number of penetrating questions about Fletcher’s ventures. Caroline was very pleased with herself that she not only knew the answers, but knew them in deep detail, and was rewarded with a satisfied smile from Allen, who even complimented her on learning all this material so quickly. “I figured you’d need two weeks to be all the way up to speed on that account, but you seem to have it down pat already,” he told her. “We need to get going to Fletcher’s place, though, Caroline. Follow me over to Rachel’s and we’ll all leave from there, okay?”

Caroline shut down her office and was on the road five minutes later, wondering if she’d have time to shower before changing clothes. Fletcher was a bit informal to be comfortable around office formal attire like suits and the like. Apparently that was exactly what Allen had in mind, because he was soon in jeans and a polo shirt after Caroline got there, and in moments all three of them were similarly attired, and were off and running to Cuervo Rojo in Allen’s BMW, this time with Caroline in the back seat.

“Once we’re home tonight, I want to debrief you both about the weekend,” Allen said. “But I don’t want to go into it now and have to interrupt it for this dinner. I really wonder if this is on the up and up or if there’s some ulterior motive involved, but I want to think I’m just an overly cynical and suspicious son of a bitch.”

“Probably,” Rachel snorted, and laughed. “They seemed to be genuine people, what I remember of them, Master.”

“Like I should take the word of you while you were off being a space cadet,” Allen chuckled. “What were your thoughts, Caroline?”

“Master, he whipped Danielle bloody out there,” Caroline said, trying not to shudder. “I can’t see how or why they’d fake it, so yes, I think they’re for real.”

“Okay, then,” Allen said, still sounding dubious. “We’ll proceed on that presumption.” They made the balance of the drive in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, still very much surprised about yesterday’s news, and highly curious as to the events to unfold over the next couple hours. There were several cars parked in front, some of which Caroline recognized, and several of which she didn’t, and she felt a little thread of nervousness, wondering who else she was about to meet.

Danielle answered the door again, smiling cheerily at them as they entered, and Bill approached from the living room and offered his hand to all three of them, welcoming them with a broad smile. It was much like the day before, with all the guests out back socializing, except tonight the supper was Mexican food, catered in from Tio Antonio’s, one of the better Mexican restaurants to be found in all of Texas, it was widely agreed by the locals.

Chance Donovan wasn’t there, but everyone else who had been there on Sunday was in attendance for this Monday evening dinner, and a few others were present as well. The one instantly recognizable was a drop-dead beautiful black woman named Karen Everson, a local celebrity on the area news station. There were another half-dozen there, and introductions were made all around. Caroline was surprised that she knew one of those half-dozen, a man named Colin Jones. He was built like an ox, well over six feet, burly, with sandy hair and a bushy beard. He owned a local auto shop where she had been taking her Honda for maintenance and what had recently become an all-too-routine series of repairs with spit and baling wire to keep it road worthy. She would never have guessed that he’d be into this. He’d always seemed such a gentle soul, that she couldn’t imagine him wielding a whip or cane on a woman.

“Miss Loring,” he said, smiling at her happily. “I’m glad to see you here. I need to make another house payment, so I really need that Honda of yours to puke its cookies sometime this week or next, okay?”

“Oh, I’m afraid you’re way out of luck,” Caroline said, and then giggled. “The Honda is due an honorable burial at whatever junk yard will accept it. I got a company car, and a promotion, so I think I’m going to get something a bit newer and better for personal use.”

“Well, I can surely change the oil in that company car too, honey,” he said, smiling. “It’s a shame we didn’t know this about each other a long time ago, isn’t it?”

Caroline blushed bright red. “I wouldn’t have had the guts, Colin,” she said. “I’m amazed I have the guts to be here tonight.”

“Oh, we’re all nice people,” he said as a woman approached him, shorter than he, an Hispanic woman. He smiled at her. “Caroline, I’d like you to meet my owner, Carmen Escontrias.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Carmen said, offering her hand to the shocked Caroline, amazed that Colin was a submissive just like she was. Carmen was very pretty, albeit short at perhaps just over five feet, with hair as black as jet reaching almost to her butt. She had sparkling dark eyes and a ready smile that charmed Caroline. “I hear that we missed a hell of a good time here yesterday. We would have been here, but had some family obligations to attend. We’ll also have business at the mall, or I will, anyway. I think Colin has decided to keep his shop right where it is for the time.”

“And what kind of business do you run, Ma’am,” Caroline asked.

“A jewelry store,” Carmen said with quiet pride. “I make all my pieces. Learned it from my grandfather and his father before him.”

“Really,” Caroline asked, impressed. She’d always envied that kind of artistry. “I’ll have to stop in and see what you have to offer, Ms. Escontrias.”

“Carmen, please,” the lady smiled. “If you wind up joining our club, you’ll find some more special pieces for sale there, by the way. Did you notice that ring George Bank wears?”

“I didn’t give it a lot of attention, I’m afraid,” Caroline said.

“I made it,” Carmen said, smiling. “It’s the BDSM emblem, that tri-spoked wheel. There’s other stuff like that which the club sells to earn a bit of money. I also made this pendant,” she finished, indicating a necklace of gold that looked to be 18-karat with the ever-famous (among lifestylers, anyway, Caroline though) tri-spoked wheel.

“That’s beautiful,” Caroline breathed, meaning it. “I’m going to have to get one of those somehow!”

“Yes, she does superb work,” Danielle said, approaching them and smiling warmly. “May I offer you a drink of some kind, Caroline?”

“A Coke, please,” Caroline asked. In truth, she was nervous enough that she would have killed for a blast of rum to go into the Coke, but didn’t think that a good idea.

“Of course,” Danielle said. Caroline only then noticed that Rachel was corralled in a talk with Fiona and that Allen was in a similar talk with Karen Everson. She smiled as it dawned on her what was happening. They were all being felt out, so to speak, privately interviewed by people who were probably on the membership committee, or otherwise in positions of authority with whatever this club was. Oddly enough, that was when Caroline stopped worrying. What was to happen would happen, and it was really entirely out of her hands.

“Okay, dinner is ready to rock if anyone’s hungry,” Bill called from the serving table, where he’d been busy setting up serving trays while his wife had been schlepping drinks hither and yon for everyone. Everyone lined up and loaded their plates, and Caroline went to the picnic benches, amazed to see that there were place cards for everyone, and no couple or triad was to be seated together, evidently. Caroline was seated with George Bank, Sharon Carter, Julieta Orozco and Danielle Fletcher. Rachel and Bill were at separate tables.

The meal was excellent, and casual chit-chat prevailed, just getting-to-know you stuff, none of it about their common lifestyle. George talked about his airplanes, a passion he’d long held. He owned a Gulfstream business jet, a twin-prop Cessna, and had recently came into two more purchases, one a retired fighter jet, an F-4 that he’d apparently had to pull a few strings to obtain, and a Bell Jet Ranger helicopter, which he was slowly but surely learning to fly. Sharon talked some about the new store to open in the mall, and her passion for computers, which was impressive to Caroline, who couldn’t care less how they worked. Sharon apparently made a good side income from building and repairing computers, though, and loved it. Julieta enjoyed horses, it seemed, and had recently purchased a big enough spread that she could have some horses of her own and not be clobbered on renting a stable every month. Danielle blushed and could only really talk about being a geek and engineer, but Sharon finally coaxed out of her that she was enjoying authoring her own blog, and that she was just starting to learn and get into radio-controlled aircraft as a hobby. Caroline smirked some, knowing that Bill would have been far more at home with these people than she was. But once prompted, Caroline confessed that she enjoyed reading quite a deal, and had been toying long and long with the idea of trying to write. She’d started on perhaps two dozen stories, but never seemed to be able to do more than a few pages before hitting a writer’s block or in some other way running out of steam. Coaxed further, she even told them that she liked to write poetry, and finally even quoted a poem she’d written a year after her benighted ex-relationship came to its end, about a submissive being alone and having only herself for a scening partner.

A pale sliver of moon looking over the night
Lying in her bed, eyes closed so tight
Her master filling her spirit's inner sight
Mind slipping its moorings, preparing for flight

She feels his hands teasing her below
Although already filling her, passion starts to grow
Time becomes flexible, ebb and flow
What comes next she already knows

She climaxes hard, it fills her head
Then she's roughly flipped over on the bed
She's spanked with a paddle till her butt goes red
Resistance gone, like the wind it fled

Her ears hear his order, "up on all fours"
She eagerly obeys, his happy whore
Knowing all that waits in store
Knowing even so, she wants so much more

Finally spent, she collapses into her sheets
Her master's attentions at long last complete
He drifts cross her vision, light and fleet
As fantasy and vibrator go back to sleep



The poem was applauded roundly by her compatriots, and Caroline was surprised when Danielle slid her hand across the table and held her hand, smiling at her. The two women laced their fingers together, and their blue eyes met, and they both smiled faintly at one another.

“You and I lived the same life for a while,” Danielle said softly to her. “Or at least close enough, I suppose. Bill was my master online for three years and had no idea he’d known me for so long in a time before, and I never could quite manage the guts to tell him until I moved back here last year. I spent many a night playing do-it-yourself games with a flogger and a vibrator, like in your poem, with Master filling my mind and soul. I never even got the guts together to give him my phone number, for fear that he might recognize my voice.”

“Jesus, that must have been terrible for you,” Caroline said. “To have him so near and yet so far away must have been a constant heartache.”

“He wasn’t too happy when I came clean with him,” Danielle said, her voice soft as she remembered the events of a year ago, a lifetime ago. “But I earned my place with him, even if I do keep seeming to get myself in fresh trouble. I want to apologize again for yesterday, Caroline. I really should have zipped my lip.”

“It’s forgiven and forgotten,” Caroline smiled, squeezing Danielle’s hand. She realized that she genuinely liked this young woman of some twenty-three years, and knew there was nothing wrong with Danielle that some growing up wouldn’t fix in the fullness of time.

“Thank you,” Danielle said, sincerely.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Bill announced loudly, cutting off all the conversations. “If you’ll all come inside, we’ll get everyone’s drinks refreshed and then talk a bit more formally with our new guests. Danielle, clear the tables and trash out here, please. Karen, if I may press you into service, can you get fresh drinks for everyone?”

“Of course, Sir,” Karen said, and started working the crowd for their drink orders, just like a waitress in a club somewhere. Caroline was impressed by what appeared to be Karen’s automatic submission, and was impressed further that Karen took orders for drinks from everyone here without taking a single note.

A moment later, everyone was seated in Bill’s spacious living room, Caroline beside Allen and Rachel, and Bill gave the floor to Kate Norris while Karen started delivering drinks to everyone, as unobtrusively as possible. “Well,” Kate began. “This is a bit of a strange situation, since people usually don’t apply to the membership committee by flying into subspace at a vanilla-style party. On the other hand, it’s one hell of a good way of showing off your credentials, I must admit!” She paused for the expected round of chuckles, as Rachel and Caroline both blushed beet-red and grinned sheepishly. “But seriously, it’s always pleasing to meet more of our own kind in whatever ways we wind up meeting, however surprising those meetings may be. Allen, I know you are Rachel’s and Caroline’s master, and therefore I’m assuming the decision about applying for membership will rest with you and not with them.”

“I’ll get their feelings first,” Allen said. “But yes, the decision ultimately rests with me.”

“Well, I’d like to tell you some about the club, which we just innocuously call the Five Counties Social Club. I won’t belabor you with the legalities and details of how it’s run, since I think only George’s lawyer would really have a grasp on it,” Kate said, smiling. “I’ll just say that there’s a physical facility that the club runs, and that it’s open every weekend to its members’ unlimited use. You can come and go there, or stay the entire weekend, and there’s usually something for everybody insofar as play goes, and also plenty of support and conversation for people wanting advice or just to vent like we all need to do sometimes.”

“I’m the club’s president this year,” Carmen chimed in. “If you want in, I can take you out there tonight and give you the grand tour and you can come back when it opens come Friday.”

“I see,” Allen said in a neutral tone with a poker-face, while Caroline wondered how something this special had been under her nose all along and she’d never gotten wind of it. “Are we invited to join, then? Or is there some sort of process prior to an invitation?”

Kate didn’t answer for a moment, but looked about her compatriots, who one by one nodded silently. “The necessary people are all here, and yes, the invitation is extended.”

“Thank you,” Allen said. “May I have a few moments alone with my ladies?”
“Of course,” Bill said. “My study is down that hall. Take as much time as you three need.”



“Your thoughts,” Allen asked the ladies a moment later, as they all took chairs in Bill’s study, a nice room turned out with two computer set ups and an array of bookshelves laden with an eclectic mix of reading material.

“Master, I think it’s worth joining,” Rachel said. “The worst case scenario is that we decide it’s not for us, and we’re out whatever the membership dues were. But I don’t think I need to go chapter and verse on best-case scenarios, do I, Sir?”

“No, not really,” Allen remarked. “What about you, Caroline.”

“Master, I want in,” Caroline said simply. “I like these people, and with or without our three-way relationship, I think it would be personally beneficial to me to be among my own kind, so to speak. I’m hoping, obviously, that the three of us make a lifelong successful relationship, but I also know that I’m brand-new to you two, and that it’ll take time. To that end, I think the club can only help us to get over whatever hurdles face us.”

“I see,” Allen said. “Okay, that was easy enough. Let’s find out how much it’s going to cost and what comes next, ladies. Shall we?” He led them back to the living room, where they all retook their seats.

“So what did you decide,” Carmen asked once they were settled in.
“I think we all want in,” Allen said. “What are the dues to join, et cetera?”

“One hundred dollars yearly per member,” Carmen said. “Plus whatever you spend at the club, such as overnight rooms if you stay the night there, meals, and what-not.”
Allen merely nodded and reached for his back pocket to retrieve his billfold. He produced six fifty-dollar bills, and handed them over to Carmen. “I guess that means we’re members,” he said, smiling.

“That does,” Carmen grinned in return. “Would you like to go out there tonight and see the place?”

“Actually,” Allen said, “I’m exhausted tonight. Can we perhaps go out there Friday?”
“Of course,” Carmen said. “Why don’t you all meet us here after work Friday and we’ll make a motorcade?”

“Good deal,” Allen said. “We’ll all be here by seven.”

Danielle -- Postscript

It just doesn't seem fair to some folks, I suppose, when good things happen to rotten people, but that's the way of the world, and this time it's finally worked to my benefit. I'm pleased beyond compare to report that Danielle: Genesis of a Submissive has been accepted by PublishAmerica, and is due to be published soon, hopefully by early summer of 2005. I'll surely keep you all posted on the progress! I got the word on 15th December of last year, and I've been sitting on the information ever since, not daring to let the cat out of the bag for fear that the deal would be derailed and that I'd look like a fool or a liar.

The novel, of course, has been removed from this blog. Now that I'm going to get paid for it, I'm not allowed to have it posted here for free. Sorry, guys, but if you wanna read it now, you gotta pay for the privilege. LOL

I hope you all still have enough interest to order a copy from the publisher, and I'll shamelessly point out to you that they make great stocking stuffers and presents for other occasions to give to other kinky friends and acquaintances. Hell, I'd appreciate you recommending the book even to people you don't like, and I'm also asking you all to recommend this title to your favorite brick-and-glass book stores, especially those specializing in adult fiction. I don't mind keeping y'all supplied with good smut, but I gots to eat, and if I can make my living at this, it'll only mean that I can provide y'all with more and more good smut. ROFL To that end, I'd seriously appreciate all the help you can give me in getting this book sold far and wide, 'round the world. I'm also on the verge of setting up my own website to push this book as well as the e-book version, to which I own all the rights. I'm likewise considering selling autographed copies of Danielle from my website, but I'm unsure if I'll follow through on this or not. What do y'all think? Is it worthwhile for me to explore this venture, to buy 100 copies in the hopes that I can sign and sell them online, or is it wiser just to let PublishAmerica do the dirty work and not wear myself out on a risky investment?

Seriously, I want to say thank you to all of you from the bottom of my heart for all the support and encouragement you so readily offered to me while I was writing Danielle, and in those dark hours when I thought the novel would never actually get published. You people know who you are, and you know how I feel about you. It's frightening in a way to submit my novel to people I don't know, and I'm sure you all remember how much that first rejection stung until I could get my mojo back and keep whacking away at it, and your encouragement helped me to do that, and so Danielle's success in print is due in large part to you, my loyal readers, who wouldn't hear of me giving up the fight in the darker hours.

I also want to offer a special thanks to Eric, who troubled himself to write me such a heartfelt letter about the impact Danielle's tale had on his relationship with his young lady Carla. That letter will always be special in my heart, and even more so, will Eric and Carla themselves, two beautiful souls madly in love, and two beautiful souls whom I flatter myself to claim as my friends.

God bless y'all, and keep in touch.

--Patrick--

Caroline -- Part Thirty-Two

Chance was able easily to help Rachel into the BMW a few moments later, all the more so since Rachel was mostly out of her trance by then. The drive home was done in silence, each woman lost in her own thoughts about the events of the day, and whatever might be its consequences. They got back to Rachel’s house and went inside, Caroline ordering Rachel to bring her a Coke, and taking her seat on the sofa, her mind still racing down numerous pathways. Rachel returned with the Coke, and knelt before Caroline on a pillow absently tossed to the floor.

“It seems like we fucked up some, Mistress,” Rachel said. “But it sounds like there might be a golden opportunity in this too.”

“You have a remarkable talent for stating the obvious,” Caroline said in an irritable tone.

“I’m sorry, Mistress,” Rachel said, upset and near tears that she’d angered Caroline, but unsure and confused as to why Caroline, usually even-tempered, was this angry.

“No,” Caroline said. “I’m sorry. I just worry that Master’s going to tear my head off and shit down my neck when he learns what happened, and I’m being a bitch and taking it out on you, and you don’t deserve that.”

“Mistress, this is such a unique situation that I can’t even guess how he’ll react to it,” Rachel said. “And I’ve been in his service for a long damn time now. In truth, my best guess is that he’ll be fascinated that we might be getting into a local scene that we never guessed existed, but is equally likely to take us to task for being so irresponsible. Julieta gave me a little talk about what was probably happening to Danielle out in Bill’s barn, something about brine-soaked willows. We deserve it as much as she does, I’m afraid.”

“You’re right,” Caroline said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m exactly happy about it, you know. And yes, Danielle got a really horrid punishment out there. Bill laid two dozen lashes on her bare back with brine-soaked willows, and then everyone out there got to lay a reprimand on her for her indiscretion. I was embarrassed for her. I can only imagine how it must have been to have been her right then. God, what humiliation!”

“Bill is her master, and must have her trust to treat her as she requires,” Rachel said gently.

“I know that,” Caroline said. “And I think he’s a hell of a nice guy for the most part. But I’m glad he’s not my master. I couldn’t take it.”

“I can’t imagine those switches are worse than Allen’s horsewhip, Mistress,” Rachel remarked idly, reminding her that they were also under the stewardship of a hard master. Caroline knew that, but something about those brine-soaked willows horrified her, the thought of cut skin and a burning mixture ground into it. She shuddered as she nodded at Rachel.

“I don’t think it’s the switches that upset me, but the brine,” Caroline answered. “That just seems excessive to me.”

“But not to her, and not to her master, Ma’am,” Rachel pointed out with infuriating calmness.

“I know,” Caroline said, and told Rachel about George’s reproof in the barn. “Fuck it. Master is going to do what he’s going to do, and I’m not going to make myself sick worrying about what I cannot change. I’m going to go swimming again. You want to swim too?”

“If I may, Mistress,” Rachel said.

“Let’s go,” Caroline said, standing and shedding clothes along the way to the pool before diving in, Rachel right behind her. The women swam about for a while as the sun started its dip toward the horizon, and ended up in the hot tub after a while in one another’s arms for some intensive necking, very aroused by all that the last couple days had brought them. Caroline was even darkly aroused at the thought that Allen might put them on the whipping post together to be beaten in unison for their little stunts of this day out at Bill Fletcher’s place. The beating didn’t arouse her so much as returning to her place as a slave, and facing their master’s justice together. There was something about that emotional tableau that seemed right to her, somehow.

They came out of the hot tub after a while, feeling love and passion for one another, but both too tired for lovemaking from the events of the day, tacitly deciding to reopen this door at bedtime. Supper was light, just a salad. Both women were still pretty stuffed from the huge luncheon. Afterwards, Caroline went and sat on the sofa, and had another fun idea to do to Rachel, and told her to get on all fours, her ass to her mistress, facing the television. And then Caroline used Rachel’s rump for an ottoman, crossing her ankles on her submissive friend and leaning back easy as Rachel maintained her place, not at all happy with this, but taking it because she had zero choice. Rachel was gratified that Caroline apparently found this to be lame or boring, because Caroline soon removed her feet from Rachel’s lower back, and told her to go fetch another Coke, and then just kneel on her pillow.

In truth, both women were completely exhausted pretty early on. It had been an eventful weekend, and Caroline suddenly had the insight that Allen had to be a man of strong endurance to so easily master both of them seemingly on instincts. They went up to bed before ten, and in moments were naked and sound asleep in one another’s arms. Daybreak would rise on them again as equal slaves, since Allen was due to return.




Caroline woke early the next morning, and was showered and gone before Rachel got out of bed. Indeed, she was already in the office as Rachel stirred from her sleep, and deeply into the entire Fletcher file, furiously taking notes. She never looked up from her work, not even surprised at how intrigued she was by its challenges, until her phone rang shortly before noon, jarring her from her concentration. It was Allen on the other end.

“Come on down to my office,” he said. “Let’s all go do lunch.”

“Yes, Sir,” Caroline said, and shut down her computer as she felt a rush of butterflies in her belly. She’d known all along that she would have to face the music sooner or later, but wasn’t overjoyed that the hour had finally come around. But the thread of worry was doing her zero good, she knew, merely wondering if she’d be beaten soon, or if she’d be made to wait for the axe to fall. She went downstairs and found a nervous-looking Rachel waiting, with Allen standing beside her desk, not looking terribly happy.

“Let’s go,” he said evenly. “We’ll take your new BMW, Caroline.”

“Yes, Sir,” Caroline said and walked on quivery legs to the parking lot, with Allen and Rachel in tow. They got into the car, Allen riding shotgun and Rachel in the back seat, and started down the road, Caroline utterly in the dark as to where they were going.

“This is a nice choice,” Allen said, approvingly. “I like this shade of blue.”

“Thank you,” Caroline said, feeling slightly more relaxed. “Where are we going for lunch, Sir?”

“I ordered a pizza at the Domino’s up the highway there,” Allen said. “I figured we could stop at the park and eat at a picnic table. It seems to be a good day to eat outdoors, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir,” Caroline said, keeping her eyes on the road as she piloted the car to Domino’s Pizza.

“And we obviously need to talk,” Allen said. “You’ve both apparently fucked up by the numbers somehow. I don’t know what you did just yet, but you’re both so high-strung right now that a kid with a firecracker could kill you both with a heart attack right now. I just hope it has nothing to do with the out-of-the-blue invitation to go deal with the Fletcher account tonight. He specifically asked that you both come with me this evening, and I had better not be blindsided by some whacko business shit that one or both of you cooked up that’s going to fuck up the whole deal there.”

“No, I don’t think we fucked up the deal,” Rachel said, and Caroline’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror to see her eyes sparkling, and then both women burst into laughter so hard that Caroline had to pull off the highway before she totaled this new Beamer. Allen looked at them in bemusement, unsure whether to laugh or snarl, but sure that he didn’t like being on the outside of an inside joke.

“Would you girls like to explain yourselves before I call in the guys with the butterfly nets,” Allen asked after a moment.

“Perhaps we can discuss it over lunch, Sir,” Caroline said, dabbing tears with the cuff of her blouse, she’d laughed so hard, knowing that it wasn’t nearly so funny as the laughter implied, but needing the release from the stress. She knew she was probably in worse trouble now than she’d been before this giggling fit, and that was a sobering thought, but in truth, she needed the emotional release and was happy to pay whatever price it cost her. She hoped.

“Drive on,” Allen said, simply. Caroline drove to Domino’s, and Allen went in for a moment and returned with two pizzas and a six-pack of Coke. They drove to David Foster Park, and found a bench in a shady spot, where they all sat, Rachel and Caroline on one side and Allen across from them. They all had a slice of pizza before Allen reopened the topic of Sunday at the Fletcher place. “So what happened that I’m suddenly called over there to deal with his account,” Allen asked.

“It’s not about the account, Master,” Caroline said. “I’m afraid I fucked up bigtime with Rachel yesterday morning and it spilled over into the thing over at Mr. Fletcher’s place.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Rachel whispered, and blushed, looking downward as her face burned cherry red.

“Oh, boy,” Allen said, his voice still even, and surprisingly bordering on amusement. “Lay it on me, Caroline.”

“Well, I flogged her yesterday morning, and sent her into space, apparently deeper than I’d realized,” Caroline said. “No, let’s be honest. She was far deeper than I’d realized. Anyway, she came out of space and we went to the luncheon over there, and things were going fine. This Fletcher guy seems savvy and like he’s a nice guy. I also met that billionaire guy, George Bank, and his wife and their PA, as well as Kate Norris and some woman named Sharon Carter, a doctor named Julieta Orozco, and Chance Donovan. But that’s aside from the point.

“After we ate, Mr. Fletcher wanted to show people an act he’s doing for the county fair,” Caroline continued. “It’s a bullwhip circus act, if you get the picture, something pretty well done and redone and overdone, but it’s small-town Texas stuff, and to be honest, he’s skilled with that whip. Maybe he’s too skilled with it. After the third crack of it, snapping sparklers out of his wife’s hands, Rachel here shot straight back into space and collapsed from her lawn chair.”

“Holy shit,” Allen muttered. “Well, there goes that contract!”

“Actually, there’s more,” Caroline said.

“Then keep talking,” Allen said, glaring at Caroline while contemplating firing her once and for all, even if he had found himself falling in love with her.

“Well, Mrs. Fletcher told everyone there that Rachel was in subspace,” Caroline reported. “She’s also her husband’s slave, and it turns out that everyone there was in the local BDSM scene. I didn’t even know there was a local scene, so it was something of a shocker to me. He even whipped the hell out of his wife in front of everyone there because of her indiscretions, and then gave everyone there the chance to read her the Riot Act for her mouth. The reason Mr. Fletcher wants to meet us tonight is to see if we’d be interested in joining up, and if they’d be interested in us.”

For the first time in a long time, Allen was caught utterly flat-footed, clueless as to what to say or how to feel. It was more than lightning from a clear blue sky. This was more like a space ship landing in his back yard, and seeing Elvis himself disembarking to tell the world that all the tabloids were telling the truth, and that he was now the deity of this planet and four others, can ya say hallelujah, amen. He sat there for perhaps two full minutes with his mouth agape, like something out of an old screwball comedy show from the Fifties.

“Master, are you still here,” Rachel asked, half torn between amusement and concern.

“How the hell you can fuck up by the numbers and come up smelling like a fresh-cut rose is a mystery, Caroline,” Allen finally managed to say. “But maybe you haven’t come up roses this time. I guess we’ll see if this indeed derails the contract when he takes a moment to reflect on your irresponsibility. Time will tell.”

Caroline’s expression was pensive, and Allen got annoyed with it as Rachel dug into the pizza, deciding to stay as far out of this little mess as she could get. “Sir, he indicated to the contrary,” she finally gathered the courage to say. “He said that he’d rather trust someone in the lifestyle than out, since we’d obviously be socially associated and not merely on a vendor-client basis in a relationship.”

“We’ll see,” Allen said. “Let’s finish lunch and get back to the office.”

Caroline -- Part Thirty-One

Before Caroline could even get out of her chair, Dr. Orozco was hunkered down beside Rachel, checking her pulse as she tossed her keys to Sharon with orders to fetch her medical bag from her Expedition. Sharon hustled toward the doctor’s truck as the doctor asked Caroline the first obvious questions about Rachel, was she diabetic or on drugs? Caroline shook her head, visions of her career and this plum contract going up in smoke and ash. After all, Caroline had a very good guess as to why Rachel had just keeled over like this, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with drugs or diabetes or any other medical complication whatsoever.

Julieta returned her attention to Rachel, and was interrupted by Danielle, kneeling and whispering something in her ear. Julieta nodded, and asked Bill and George to help Rachel, who wasn’t quite unconscious, into the house, to the guest bedroom, where she could examine Rachel more privately. Danielle shepherded Caroline to the guest bedroom as well, and remained there as the men left. Sharon hurriedly came in with Julieta’s doctor bag, handed it off, and left. Danielle shut the door and smiled oddly at Caroline.

“Would you like to tell the good doctor what’s wrong with Rachel,” Danielle asked Caroline. “Or shall I?”

“Shit,” Caroline moaned, clenching her fists to drive her nails into her palms, wondering just how the jig was up. “She’s not on drugs, and she’s healthy as a horse. She and I … um … well, she’s in a bit of a euphoric condition, and I guess the bullwhip cracking was kind of another trigger.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Julieta said, and chuckled with humor that somehow wasn’t to ridicule, Caroline sensed. “You mean she’s in subspace!”

“Well, yes,” Caroline said, blushing bright red, only very belatedly wondering how it was that Danielle and the doctor knew exactly what subspace was. “How did you … well …”

“How do we know what subspace is,” Danielle completed the question with an amused little smile. Caroline merely nodded, still blushing. “Rather than answering that question, why don’t I let you think about that, okay? I really hate overstating the obvious, Caroline, so I’ll just say I enjoy my own little visits to space when I get to go, and we’ll leave it there. I knew what was going on with her as soon as y’all got here, knew the look on her face. She confirmed it when she looked at you for permission to get a drink from me. My guts told me right then and there that she’s your submissive. You need not worry,” she continued in a softer tone, not one of amusement at all, seeing embarrassed horror on Caroline’s face. “You’re among friends and similar people, Caroline.”

“She’s right,” the doctor said, tenderly stroking Rachel’s hair while she drifted in that twilight between space and present. “You must’ve done one hell of a job on her if she could get sent back into space on the sound of a cracking whip. Is she injured at all, Caroline? Does she require treatment?”

“She’s just pink and welted, mostly,” Caroline said, deciding to face whatever music this was. “I only flogged her today.”

“I see,” the doctor said. “Let’s talk, Caroline. We need to decide what to do.”

“Okay,” Caroline said, uncertain, as she sat on a love seat along one wall of the spacious guest bedroom.

“Danielle, will you excuse us please,” Julieta said. “I think maybe it’s better if you retain some deniability. I’m unsure how happy Bill is going to be with your big mouth already, sweetheart.”

Danielle ground her teeth for a moment, her jaw bulging as her facial expression made it crystal clear that she in no way liked being talked to this way, but she nodded and left, quietly closing the door behind her. Caroline wondered what was going on, exactly, certain that nothing at all was quite what it seemed when she’d gotten here ninety minutes before, and looked at Julieta in quiet expectation.

“Do you know what ‘gaydar’ is, Caroline,” Julieta asked, after Danielle left them alone. Caroline mulled this over while she leaned forward and took Rachel’s hand in hers, and rewarded with Rachel’s sleepy smile.

“I don’t know the word, or I’ve never heard it before, but I can take a guess,” Caroline said. “Is it something like how gay people just know who’s gay and who’s not?”

“Exactly,” Julieta said, pleased. “Well, there are a number of local people involved pretty heavily in the BDSM lifestyle as well, Caroline, certainly to include myself. I guess Danielle kind of tipped her own hand too just now, and I have no idea what her master is going to do to her for that, but that’s his decision and not mine.”

“If she’s lucky, her master will do to her what Caroline did to me,” Rachel said dreamily. “Jesus, this is great!”

“Go back to space, Rachel,” Caroline said, laughing despite the embarrassment.

“Anyway,” Julieta said. “I’m involved heavily in the local scene, like I said, so I see all sorts of things that I don’t talk about to others. I don’t know if you ever watch Karen Everson’s show on the local news magazine program, but she’s done a couple very good stories about the local S&M scene.”

“I don’t watch much television, I’m afraid,” Caroline said.

“It raised a lot of eyebrows and she only scratched the surface with it all,” Julieta said. “There’s a really huge club here in the Five Counties, in fact.”

“Really,” Caroline said, astounded and unsure what else to say by way of reply. “You tend to only think of there being a ‘scene’ in big cities like New York or LA. I’d have never guessed there’s one here as well.”

“Where do we sign up,” Rachel asked, still with her eyes closed and smiling dreamily. “I want in!”

“Well, if you’d like, I can have someone from the membership committee contact you in the next few days and you can all do a little touchy and feel together and see what you think,” Julieta said, chuckling at Rachel.

“I’d like that,” Caroline said. “But our master would have to approve too.”

“Of course,” Julieta said, smoothly. “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. Give me your number, and I’ll have someone from the committee contact you, perhaps this evening. You can talk it out with your master and set up a time and place to meet and talk, and y’all can take it from there. Meanwhile, one thing more for you ladies and your master to consider here, if I may?”

“Please do,” Caroline said, hoping that Allen wasn’t about to skin her alive along with Rachel for the events of today. “Honestly, he’s probably going to kill us for this, and when our boss finds out that Rachel had a fainting spell here, we’re probably also about as fired as we can get and still live.”

“I don’t see any reason that he’ll ever find out,” Julieta said. “I’ll see to it that this never happened, but please don’t ask any questions.” Caroline nodded, doubting that anything was going to save her from Allen’s wrath, and then Julieta continued. “Anyway, physicians are required, of course, to report suspected abuse, but we’re on our own judgement as to what, exactly, constitutes abuse and what was just consensual play that might require medical attention to follow. Because of my own understanding and proclivities, I’m entirely willing to see you, either of you, for treatment of things you’d as soon your regular doctor didn’t put on your records.”

“Thank you,” Caroline said, meaning it very much. “Do you have a card I can use to get in touch with you, Doctor?”

“Sure,” Julieta said, and handed Caroline two business cards from her doctor bag. “Do you have a card in return that I can pass on to the membership people?”

“Yes,” Caroline said, reaching into her pocket for a small business-card wallet that Joel had advised her to get and always carry with her. She produced two cards of her own, and fetched a pen and wrote her home number on the back of one of them, explaining to Julieta that it was probably easiest to call on her cell phone most of the time. Julieta nodded and slipped the cards into her breast pocket as a gentle knocking came from the door.

“Come in,” Julieta announced, and Bill entered.

“I hope it wasn’t my poisoned barbecue,” he joked, winking at Julieta.

“If you talked to Danielle, you know it wasn’t,” Julieta shot back, smiling after a moment. “Bill, she’s a good girl, and mostly I like her, but I really wish you’d put her automatic mouth under control sometimes.”

“She’s had that addressed, and we’ll be discussing it a bit more … intensively … this evening,” Bill answered, then turned his attentions to Caroline. “Having said that, you obviously can figure out that I’m a bit more than merely Danielle’s husband, Caroline, yes?”

“Yes, I think I can do the math, Sir,” Caroline said, wincing as she remembered he’d already told her to not say sir to him.

“I spoke with the rest of the … guests ... and they’ve all agreed that I can tell you that they’ve all seen spacey girls before, and that as far as they’re concerned, this never happened,” Bill continued. “Your boss will never hear a word of this from anyone who was here. Guaranteed.”

“You mean everyone else here is … is …” Caroline stammered, shocked. She saw Bill and Julieta wink and grin at one another, and then nod at her with broad smiles.

“And you and your friend Rachel came as a very delightful surprise to us,” Bill remarked. “I’m guessing that she was feeling suggestive enough still after whatever you did to her earlier that the cracking whip just sent her deep again.”

“Did you know we were into this,” Caroline sputtered, still trying to assemble a line of thought here.

“No,” Bill said. “Everyone here today just happens to be in the local scene in one way or another, and has some business or other in my coming mall. That said, them knowing that you two are in the lifestyle makes them trust you just a bit more, and that nice little added bonus is likely to be handy for us all. After all, nobody would rather to business with an enemy than a friend who has common interests outside the business dealings, I think. There’s a certain implicit trust we have among one another when we’ve seen into one another’s deepest secrets. Everyone out there is very close to me, not because of business, but because of commonalities outside of business.”

“That makes sense,” Caroline said, amused with a sideward thought. There was certainly going to be some sort of trust among people who could be naked together and completely casual about it, now wasn’t there? Caroline had only been to one S&M event with her ex-master back when, and one thing she remembered most was people being stark naked and as casual as people hanging around the office water cooler in a JC Penney catalog. Not everyone, to be sure, but plenty enough people nonetheless, including one man, bald and in his sixties, walking around naked but for a new pair of white sneakers. And nowhere near all those naked people were perfect physical specimens. Indeed, Caroline had learned something interesting there that evening at the big play party, something that her master had pointed out to her privately. They’d watched two scenes, one involving a submissive woman perhaps fifty or so years old, far past her prime, overweight, and altogether not what one would expect to see in the centerfold of a girly magazine. Another scene perhaps twenty feet away involved a younger dom with a very beautiful submissive, a tall girl who looked to be Arab, with flawless olive skin, and a face and figure that would have looked marvelous in a centerfold. Both women were being flogged. The older woman was flying, making deep sounds of gratified pleasure as her dominant spurred her onward with the flogger, and before too very long, she had flipped into space, moaning and purring the whole while, utterly absorbed by her dom’s attentions. The other one, the beautiful one, was making sounds like she’d learned how to do S&M from a low-budget porn movie. She wasn’t into it for the scene, but only because she wanted to flaunt her beauty. The dom or top or boyfriend or whatever he was didn’t play her hard, had indeed barely flogged her hard enough to turn her even slightly pink. It was a total bore to Caroline to see it, and indeed, there really wasn’t much of a crowd surrounding this scene, not like one might expect.

Later, Caroline’s master had told her that the older woman’s scene, the one flying on her scene, completely absorbed in it and lost in a world that only included her and her master, was far and away the sexier of the two events. He’d agreed with Caroline that the other scene, while the submissive girl was indeed eye-candy, was an utter bore. For Caroline, it had been a good and enlightening moment in her life. She herself had far from a perfect face or figure, she’d always felt, although she knew she wasn’t entirely without appeal either. But his remarks that day made her feel far better about herself, because she’d seen with her own eyes that many others likewise agreed with him that it took more than a submissive’s looks to really work into a dom’s heart. Indeed, Caroline had long since learned that looks were secondary at best. That event had been a huge growth experience for her. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and return to the present.

“I told her I’d pass her information to the membership people,” Julieta said, smiling. “She says their master would need to approve, of course.”

“Yes, of course,” Bill said. “But we can at least get that ball to rolling, I suppose.”

“That was my thinking,” Julieta confirmed. “If nothing else, the ladies have something a bit more informative to bring to their master than that there’s just a BDSM club in the area and would he like them all to join up.” She winked at Caroline and then Rachel started to sit up, looking around with hollow eyes that finally were starting to get some snap back to them.

“Caroline, I think Master’s going to be okay with this,” Rachel said. “Fuck, you have his number. Call him, why don’t you? And why don’t you just admit that he’s Allen?”

“That’s enough, Rachel,” Caroline said mildly. “How about if you just shut up for a while before you dig this hole any deeper, okay?”

“That happens sometimes,” Julieta said. “I don’t think she’s being so much a loose cannon as that the endorphin rush for her is like a big rush of sodium pentothal. She’s too blasted right now to know what’s appropriate or inappropriate to say, and I’m certain Bill will keep this all between us. Besides, I’d pretty well done the math and figured out that your boss was the most logical choice for your master, anyway. If Rachel is his PA, it means she probably works a ninety-hour work week or so, and if you’re high enough up in his company that you’re managing an account this large, it means that you probably scarcely work less than Rachel, and so QED, it’s more likely that Allen Martin is your master than anyone else, since you work so closely with him all the time anyway.”

“Jesus H. Christ, he’s going to skin us alive when he gets a hold of us,” Caroline moaned. “Just like a couple of catfish.”

“Would it help if I talked to him about this before you did,” Bill asked. “To see if I could calm him down, dom to dom, so to speak?”

“I don’t know,” Caroline said, fretting and worrying. “He’s likely to be furious that I sent her to space and then blithely brought her along to a business function. I mean, we got lucky by the skin of our teeth here, Bill, that apparently we happened to be meeting with people in and around the BSDM scene, but let’s face facts, what I did was pretty Goddamned stupid.”

“How about we just call it ill-advised,” Bill said, smiling. “Here’s what I’m going to do, if you two please. I’ll call Allen and tell him you two impressed me very much – which is true, by the way – and ask him to come out here tomorrow evening with both of you, and we’ll tell him about the local scene and see where it goes from there.”

“But I still have to tell him what I did to Rachel,” Caroline said.

“Perhaps so,” Bill remarked. “But I’ll make it plain to him that it turned out to be perhaps an even better thing for all concerned.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Caroline said. “Maybe he’ll only peel off half my hide this way.” Her mind’s eye was filled with that whipping post in old Mexico, and Allen with his strap and his whip. That she’d be tied to that post sometime soon and pretty awfully punished for this stunt was not in question, but only deep dread and resignation.

“Well, maybe I can prevail upon him to leave your hide pretty much where it is now,” Bill smiled. “You wear it well and it would probably look disconcerting to see you just in your innards.”

“But if he does peel you,” Julieta said. “I only charge a dollar a staple to put your skin back on you, okay?” She laughed and Caroline returned an uneasy smile, and an even less sincere chuckle of her own.

“Rachel’s going to be okay though,” Bill asked Julieta, who merely nodded. “Good! I’m going to go call Allen right now and tell him I need him to come out here tomorrow night with you two, and I’ll have a couple other guests here, and we’ll talk to him about the BDSM stuff. For your part, let him know that tomorrow isn’t about the mall, but about personal stuff. That way he’s not caught utterly flat-footed. Okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” Caroline said, meaning it. Bill ducked out of the room and Caroline stroked Rachel’s hair for a moment.

“This was your first time to put her into space,” Julieta asked softly.

“Until Friday, I’d never laid a lash on another human being in my life,” Caroline confessed, deciding that if she was in for this penny, she was in for the entire pound. “Doctor, I’m a submissive, maybe even a full-out slave. But I got left in charge of Rachel while our master is out of town, and I’ve come to find that I enjoy that side of the fence too. I know how it is to submit, but I guess I’m a ways yet from learning the physical skills a dom or top needs, and maybe a ways from learning Rachel as fully as I should know her. But I doubt our master is likely to hand me this kind of trust again to see what new and amazing ways I can find next time to fuck up.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Julieta said idly. “Life’s about learning and changing, and sometimes shit happens, right?”

The door opened and Bill reappeared. “You’ll be here tomorrow evening at eight,” he announced. “Allen sounded happy for the invitation, which really means he’d rather have a gasoline enema and fart on a campfire, but that’s okay.”

“He’s been out of town and buried in busy,” Caroline said. “I’m guessing he wanted to just put his feet up after hours tomorrow, and debrief us about this weekend. It’s been something of an experiment, you see.” Caroline went on to explain, briefly, what she’d said to Julieta.

“That’s interesting,” Bill said. “Julieta, do you think you could tend to Rachel while I take Caroline with me for a few minutes? There’s something I think she should see.” Julieta eyed him for a moment, looking nearly angry, and then softened her expression and nodded.

Curious, Caroline followed Bill from the room, deeply surprised to find the whole house empty, and then she followed him on out to the barn out back, which he opened to reveal all the visitors standing around a support post, to which a fully naked Danielle was tied securely. Her long black hair, gleaming like volcanic glass, was bound up high, baring her back for whatever awaited her.. As Bill walked in, Fiona handed him a bundle of very thin switches, wet and dripping, and Caroline wondered what was going on here.

“Danielle, is there anything you’d like to say to Caroline about your conduct today,” Bill asked in a terrifyingly cold and calm voice.

“If I may, Master,” Danielle said, sounding not frightened or even dreading the events apparently soon to come, but instead merely sad and disappointed with herself.

“You may,” Bill said.

“Ms. Loring, while I was right about my guesswork, I was wrong to be so indiscreet, and I really am very sorry that I added to your embarrassment,” Danielle said. “It’s a lesson I should long since have learned as Bill’s slave, and one I have to learn also in the job I do for George and Fiona at the electronics plant. I hope this is the last time I need to learn this lesson, and I hope you forgive me. Thanks for letting me speak, Master. I’m ready now.”

“Bill, can I just forgive her and call it even,” Caroline asked, a bit annoyed with Danielle’s big mouth, but not so much that she wanted to see what gave the appearance of a pretty savage beating. She couldn’t imagine Danielle’s humiliation right now, and was glad she wasn’t in the younger woman’s place. “I don’t think she meant any harm, and I’d rather she didn’t remember the first time meeting me as a day when she was beaten in front of this many friends.”

“If I may, Master,” Danielle spoke.

“You may,” Bill said after a moment to consider her request.

“Ms. Loring, what I did to you and Rachel was wrong, but this isn’t about you getting justice, necessarily. It’s about me learning to rein in my mouth, which seems to get me into too much trouble sometimes. Master’s spoken to me about this a few other times, but I didn’t take a painless lesson to heart. In short, this is about me, about correcting me so I don’t do this and alienate more people than I seem to already do. Dr. Orozco can barely tolerate me half the time, and I can’t blame her. I can’t hate you or feel angry at you when I’m the one in the wrong.”

“Okay,” Caroline said, dubious.

“Caroline, Danielle has been running around with her mouth on automatic for a bit too long here lately, and today was just one more illustration of the problem, and perhaps of my failings as her owner,” Bill interjected. “This isn’t your doing. I think everyone here would agree that if it hadn’t been with y’all today, it would’ve been tomorrow or the day after about something else.”

“He’s right,” Fiona interjected, scowling at Danielle. “And one hell of a lot more than her submission is at stake if she doesn’t learn to control her mouth. She works for our company, and is a damned good engineer, but she’s never going to get my approval for a security clearance there if she doesn’t learn to curb her mouth until I’m comfortable that she won’t be released from Bill’s custody and into Leavenworth’s.”

“I see,” Caroline lied, wondering why Leavenworth would give a hooter’s damn about Danielle’s mouth, and then it dawned on her that Danielle was probably on some secret government project or another, or needed to be, but couldn’t be trusted to keep her mouth shut about the goings-on in her work. Obviously, if Danielle ran her mouth about something secret or top secret, it would indeed find her for an extended stay in the crossbar hotel at Club Fed. “Then I gather Danielle needs to learn this lesson soonest,” Caroline remarked after her ponderings. “I hope you do, Danielle.”

“Thank you,” Danielle whispered. Sharon approached Danielle with a bandanna in her hand, and slid it into Danielle’s mouth, and Bill took his position while Caroline found a place as out of the way as she could manage. He lightly touched her pale shoulders with the bundle of switches, and Caroline heard Danielle whimper a sound that communicated clearly her dread of what was soon to follow.

“Two dozen,” Bill announced in a calm voice. Danielle’s instant whimper and shivering didn’t seem at all calm, but she was hardly in a position to affect the outcome now, Caroline well knew by her own time on a whipping post. He drew back with the switches, and Caroline saw water dripping from them, curious as to why they’d be wetted. He laid the first stroke to her, and Caroline winced in empathy as she saw a broad cluster of welts rising diagonally across her shoulders, and trickles of the water running down her skin to her buttocks. Danielle whimpered and jerked some, but was bound too fast to the post to move even so much as an inch, Caroline saw. Bill lashed Danielle at a slow and measured pace, taking his sweet time to impart a hard lesson to his slave-bride. Before long, Danielle was screaming to the skies in agony.

“The switches are brine-soaked,” Caroline heard George whisper behind her. “They’re heavier and have more impact, and burn like hell if the skin opens. Danielle is accustomed to hard discipline from her owner when she rides off the range like she did today.”

“Jesus, no wonder she’s hurting,” Caroline breathed to George, barely audibly, as another lash fell and Danielle screeched, whipping her body back and forth as much as her tight bonds would allow. This lash broke the skin, Caroline saw, and she couldn’t imagine the exquisite agony Danielle must be undergoing. She remembered getting lemon juice in a small cut on her finger before, and had nearly fainted with the burning. Caroline knew Allen was a hard-ass in his own right, but was glad that Bill wasn’t her own master. Indeed, she was suddenly worried about what evil Allen might learn and emulate from an association with Bill, but it was far too late now, wasn’t it?

“Ms. Loring, every one of us in power chooses how we deal with our submissives and slaves,” George said, his voice so low that Caroline was convinced that only she could hear it. And as gently put as his tone was, she heard the reproof in it, and knew that he was disappointed that she was standing in negative judgement of Bill’s treatment of his slave-bride and her big mouth. He walked a few steps away while Caroline stood alone, feeling shamed. George was right, she knew, and she knew that if Danielle was on that post it was because she’d made a choice to serve Bill and suffer the consequences of her personal failings. She returned her attention to the whipping, seeing that it was nearly done, and glad for Danielle that such was the case, despite the presumption that Danielle deserved this entire beating. Finally, it was over, and Bill merely dropped the bundle of switches, which were looking frayed and worn by then.

He untied Danielle, from the bottom up, Caroline noted, and then he held her closely and gently as she cried her last onto his shirt. Nobody in the audience moved a muscle, and Caroline took her cue from her peers, if they could be termed so. Finally, Danielle was more or less back under control, and approached Caroline on unsteady legs, then fell to her knees in front of her, and took Caroline’s right hand in both of hers, looking up at her with a pleading expression.

“Am I forgiven, Ms. Loring,” Danielle asked, keeping her tone as neutral as the pain flaring from her harshly whipped back would allow.

“Well, yes,” Caroline said, taken aback. She honestly didn’t think Danielle had done that great a sin. Yes, she should have had a bit more discretion, but Caroline was honest enough with herself to know that Danielle had just been excited to meet more of her own kind so unexpectedly. And in truth, Caroline was also glad to meet more of her own kind out of the blue like this. “I don’t think there’s anything to forgive on my part, but if there is, it’s forgiven.”

“Thank you,” Danielle said, kissing Caroline’s hand and weeping. “I’m so sorry I embarrassed you, Ms. Loring.”

“If you don’t start calling me Caroline, I’m going to start thinking you don’t like me, and I’ll ask your master if he’ll redo this whipping because my feelings are hurt,” Caroline said, kneeling down to Danielle’s level and smiling kindly at her.

“Thank you, Caroline,” Danielle said, still sounding subdued.

“May I hug you, kiss you,” Caroline asked kindly, wanting to show Danielle that there were indeed no hard feelings on her part, and that if forgiveness was required of her, it was readily and fully given.

“It’s okay, Danielle,” Bill said softly, and Danielle nodded. Caroline knee-walked the last foot toward the whipped slave, and held her in her arms tenderly, hands low on Danielle’s back, kissing her cheek gently and then just holding her. Danielle started sobbing again, but the crying was of a different quality, not from pain but the catharsis of forgiving herself for so upsetting her master and letting herself down in the process.

Danielle cried long enough that Caroline was starting to regret her kindness as her knees ached on the floor of the barn, but there was no way she was going to let Danielle free until the tears were done. Caroline didn’t have that kind of selfishness in her. But the tears and shuddering finally ceased, and Danielle pulled away, this time able to look Caroline in the eye. “Thank you,” she said emotionally. “Thank you for your kindness.”

“No thanks required,” Caroline said, feeling a bit flustered that she was suddenly very aroused, having this naked and submissive woman in her arms. But she stifled the arousal, knowing that this wasn’t the time or the place. Sometimes it was better to have a desire than to push for a fruition that was unlikely to happen and far more likely to cause even more problems than she was facing. “Can I help you to your feet now?”

“Please,” Danielle said. Caroline stood and took Danielle’s hands in her own and helped her to her feet, and kissed her cheek again, then let her go to her master’s side, where she belonged.

“Every one of you was placed at risk by Danielle’s indiscretion,” Bill said to the assemblage. “Feel free, any of you, to speak your mind to her.”

“Danielle, I guess I’m the one here closest to your age,” Sharon said. “I know that we’re young and sometimes overly excitable, and that you honestly mean no harm. But BDSM is based on trust, and absolute discretion is a cornerstone of that trust. I hope this lesson doesn’t need to be taught to you again. You know I love you, but if I can’t trust you, I’m afraid all the love in the world won’t let me be close to you, and we both cherish that closeness, or I’d like to think that.”

“Well said, Sharon,” Fiona interjected. “I’ve already said my part, and that still stands, Danielle.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Danielle said, sounding shamed and scared.

“Fiona spoke for me as well,” George said. “I hope you don’t forget this lesson, Danielle.”

“I was about your age when I got into this lifestyle,” Kate spoke up. “And I remember how thrilling it was to be a part of something so fulfilling, and wishing people weren’t so Goddamned narrow-minded that we have to keep our proclivities under wraps, but we’re in the buckle of the Bible-belt here, Danielle, and that means people think anything out of the ordinary is evil, and that those participating in it are to be shunned. The wrong word at the wrong time could have wrecked everyone’s lives here today, save maybe George’s and Fiona’s, since they have more money than God, but even so, it would’ve made their lives here very difficult, and probably seen them having to leave the area. I’m a small businesswoman, and Sharon is a part of that business. Chance here runs his own business, and Bill certainly does. A wrong word at the wrong time could derail many good lives here. Keep that thought in the front of your mind when your tongue wants to go on automatic, okay?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Danielle said, eyeing the floor.

“For my part, I don’t think I’d be completely wrecked,” Chance interjected. “But I tend to be a very private person about my personal life, and I would’ve been very hurt by losing your trust, if for instance Caroline had left here to announce to God and the world that we’re all perverts. What if you’d been wrong? What if Rachel had just had heat-stroke or a diabetic episode or an overdose on something? Anyway, that’s my feelings.”

“Yes, Sir,” Danielle said.

“I guess that leaves me,” Christine said. “On my own, I’d be about as obscure in this area as the average prairie dog, but since I’m George and Fiona’s personal assistant, that makes me fairly visible in the area, and fairly well-known. Unfortunately, a part of my duties is that I coordinate a scholarship program for the local schools, and that means that you also risked one hell of a lot of deserving kids getting good college educations and a chance at a better future. I know that’s probably getting far-fetched, but there it is. Danielle, I’m close to your age too, and I remember like Kate does how exciting it is to first be among your own kind. Maybe someday, hopefully someday soon, we’ll find some acceptance in the mainstream. The gays did it, although it’s still a struggle for them, and perhaps our time is also at hand. But the time isn’t arrived yet, Danielle. You screwed up today. But you’re a bright girl, and as I understand it, Bill rarely has to give you the same punishment twice.”

“I’m sorry I let you all down today,” Danielle said in a subdued tone, still unable to look anyone in the eye. “I guess I should ask if you all feel I was punished enough or if it will take more for you to forgive me.”

“Well, I’d love to take you over my knee and spank the hell out of you,” Chance snarled, then grinned widely. “But more because you’re sexy as hell and it’d get my ancient rocks off!”

Despite her pain and shame, Danielle snorted and then laughed, and soon the rest of the group was chuckling too. It impressed something upon Caroline, and she wondered if this indeed wasn’t the objective of the round-robin ass-eating, that what was being said was perhaps as much or more for her benefit as Danielle’s. There were two issues that were plainly obvious to Caroline. First and foremost, her complete discretion would be required about the goings-on in this group. Secondly, but perhaps of equal importance was the plain fact that these people were intimately close, and shared a trust among one another that was absolute and unquestioning. What had happened here today wasn’t a kinky scene, but a slave being publicly beaten by her master, humiliated and abased before people she respected and held dear, to impart upon her a hard lesson in good behavior. Whatever this assemblage was, Caroline knew for sure that she wanted in, and hoped against hope that Allen and Rachel wanted the same. She felt something come alive deep in her soul with these thoughts, to live for a time among more like-minded people than just those in her own relationship sounded like a slice of heaven in many ways to her.

Christine announced then that the barn was too stiflingly hot and that she was going back to the house, and slowly but surely everyone filed out behind her, leaving Danielle the privacy and dignity now to dress herself before returning to their company, her place and esteem among them returned to her now that she’d paid her price. Already, Caroline knew the discussion with Rachel on the drive home would be intensive, and she would have given all she had in this world to see the future, the next few days, at least.

Caroline -- Part Thirty

They arrived at Bill Fletcher’s house a few minutes early, and rang the doorbell, impressed with a variety of cars parked in the driveway and front yard. Caroline felt a bit smug that hers was by far the most luxurious of the cars there. It took her a moment to realize that all but one of the vehicles, however, was a relatively late-model Ford of some sort, mostly pickup trucks, and a couple SUV type vehicles, and two cars, a Taurus and a Crown Victoria. The only other non-Ford was a bright red Corvette that gleamed in the sunlight. Another vehicle arrived just as they were getting out of the BMW, this one a black Expedition. A woman emerged from it, who looked vaguely familiar to Caroline, who decided she must not have seen her before after a moment’s consideration. The woman was far too striking to forget. She was an Hispanic woman, pretty, tall at around six feet, and with long white hair that stretched nearly to her waist. She was one of those people who would be all but impossible to forget, Caroline knew.

“Hi, I’m Julieta,” the lady said to them with a disarming smile. She pronounced her name as HOO-lee-etta. “You must be Caroline and Rachel.”

“I’m Caroline,” Caroline said, offering her hand as she grinned. “The pretty one with me is Rachel.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Julieta said, and shook Rachel’s hand as well.

“And you, Dr. Orozco,” Rachel said, also smiling, albeit a bit dreamily, Caroline noted with a smile. Rachel wasn’t quite out of space just yet. Caroline fervently hoped this state wouldn’t be plainly obvious to everyone here. She’d hate for people to think that Rachel was some kind of a stoner, considering her position at TCBS as Allen’s right hand, so to speak. Caroline also realized that she had indeed seen Dr. Orozco before, or at least her grainy black and white photograph, in the local yellow pages, when she had been looking for a new doctor when her last one had retired and she didn’t like the doctor that had taken over his practice. Dr. Orozco didn’t even make her short-list, because her office in Cuervo Rojo was just too far to have to drive, close neither to her home nor her office.

“Let’s go in and meet everyone,” the doctor said and led them into the house without knocking, obviously a show of some close association with their host. Julieta Orozco, M.D. was comfortable in the home of Bill Fletcher, and Caroline’s instant judgement was that the doctor was a nice woman. Since a man is judged by the company he keeps, he’d already scored a brownie point with Caroline before she ever even met him. They were greeted in the foyer by a pretty dark-haired young woman, slightly plump, wearing jeans and a red polo shirt.

“Hi, you must be Ms. Loring and Ms. Cook,” the woman said, smiling. “I’m Danielle Fletcher. Come on in! Everyone’s out back having a beer while Bill does some cooking. Can I get you ladies a drink?”

“Please,” Caroline said. “I’m just Caroline and she’s just Rachel. And yes, I’d like a Coke, if you have any, or water if you don’t.”

“Okay,” Danielle said. “And you, Rachel?”

Rachel shot a look toward Caroline, then just shook her head and said, “nothing, thank you.”

Danielle nodded with a strange look on her face and disappeared toward the kitchen, and Julieta led them out to the back yard, promising that Danielle would bring Caroline’s Coke to her outside. The yard looked to be nearly an acre in size, and at the back of it was a biggish red barn with the doors closed. There were a dozen or so people milling about the large back yard, casually chatting with one another, and two other men standing at a big barbecue pit, billowing clouds of smoke into the hot summer air. Unsure what to do, Caroline and Rachel followed the doctor toward the barbecue pit.

“Shall I schedule you now for your bypass grafts,” Julieta said, laughing. “Let me guess, you’re cooking lots of pig in there, and probably a big-ass brisket with a role of fat on it that would give a heart-attack to a grizzly bear.”

“Of course,” one of the men said, as they both turned. He was about six feet, of medium build and with jet-black hair interspersed with a scattering of white strands, and had what Caroline thought were the most startling green eyes she’d ever seen. He was dressed in blue jeans that looked fairly new and a dark blue Dallas Cowboys tee-shirt. He hugged the doctor and gave her a kiss, grinning all the while.

“Bill, these ladies are Caroline and Rachel,” Julieta said.

“Welcome to my home,” Bill said, offering his hand to Caroline with a wide smile.

“Thank you, Sir,” Caroline said, taking his warm and strong-feeling hand in hers. “I’m Caroline Loring and this is Rachel Cook.”

“Now, didn’t we already go over you calling me ‘Sir’ like I’m ninety years old,” he said with a snarl and a laugh, and then rolled her hand over, palm down, and smacked it with his left hand, more or less playfully. But something about it sent a little thrill through Caroline, a thrill that was equally dismaying. “It’s just plain old ‘Bill’ around here. If you start calling me Sir and Mister, I’m going to start thinking I’m important or something. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Got it here,” Danielle said, handing Caroline a twenty-ounce Coke, still in its bottle. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink, Rachel?”

“Can I have some water,” Rachel asked, still sounding fuzzy to Caroline’s ears.

“Of course,” Danielle said, heading to the kitchen again.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Rachel,” Bill said, letting Caroline’s hand go and offering his hand to Rachel.

“And you as well, Bill,” Rachel said, taking the hand and smiling slightly.

“This gentleman trying to teach a master chef such as me how to cook dead animals is George Bank,” Bill went on, as the man waved and smiled at them, a bit too far from them and a bit too crowded to offer his hand. “You should probably call him Mister and Sir and all the rest of that shit since he has sixteen more dollars than God showing on his last tax return.”

“Actually, it’s twenty-seven dollars and fifty-three cents,” George joked. “I just massaged the numbers some to keep me in a lower bracket.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Sir,” Caroline said, suddenly feeling a deep thread of disquiet. Although he had a local reputation far and wide as a very good man, and was well-loved by most of the locals in the Five Counties region, Caroline knew that he was a multimillionaire, perhaps even a billionaire, and could buy and sell her a dozen times over with just his pocket-change. To be fair, you wouldn’t know it to look at him, she judged. He was a couple inches shorter than Bill, and just beginning to get a paunch. She figured him to be perhaps forty-five or so. He had brown hair and brown eyes, and she knew if she bumped into him in a Wal-Mart, she would have given him zero notice beyond the polite apology that decent etiquette would require of her. She somehow expected a filthy rich person to somehow look the part in some non-specific way, and here she was confronted with just a regular guy. Wearing fairly ragged jeans and a grey polo shirt that was sweat and grease stained, he looked more like Bill Fletcher’s hired help, a cowhand pressed into service to help with the big party. The only two things that gave it all away were a very expensive wrist watch, indeed a Rolex, on his left wrist, and a heavy gold ring, what looked to be twenty-two karats by its particular color and gleam, with a tri-spoked emblem, the spokes curved, on his right ring-finger. Inside each of that ring’s hollows was a fairly large diamond.

“Prostrating yourself won’t be necessary,” he joked with his own broad smile, seeming to sense Caroline’s discomfort. “Just buy a statue of me in the lobby gift shop and pray to it regularly.”

Instantly disarmed, Caroline bellowed laughter at his joke, and Bill and George joined in with the laughing, so that was all good. Even Rachel mustered a smile as Danielle brought her a bottle of Ozarka water. Bill led them about and introduced Caroline and Rachel to a number of people, many of whom Caroline knew by reputation, including Fiona Brezhnev, the wife of George Bank, who was apparently independently nearly as wealthy as her husband. She was also introduced to their personal assistant, a very tall black-haired woman named Christine, who smiled as she took their hands. She also met Kate Norris, the owner of a local chain of pet and feed stores in the area, as well as a young woman with her named Sharon Carter, a pretty blonde-haired woman with an open smile, who Caroline judged to be perhaps twenty-three years old, maybe twenty-four. There was another man present named Chance Donovan, a big guy, grey-haired and with a full bushy grey beard that matched, who looked somewhat dangerous, like a retired biker out on parole. That said, his demeanor seemed soft and rather gentle, and he had a ready smile and blue eyes that twinkled, and Caroline was amused at the image of Charles Manson and Santa Claus perhaps spawning an illegitimate love-child.

“It’s been a long while, Mr. Donovan,” Rachel said, still with a bit of a dreamy smile as she took his hand. “How’re things at Second Chance’s these days?”

“Busy as ever,” he smiled. “Actually, that’s why I’m invited over here. I’m about to be a chain of sorts. I’m going to open a restaurant and bar at the mall.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Rachel said, smiling a bit more intently now as she turned toward Caroline. “Mr. Donovan here cooks some of the finest barbecue in all of south Texas out at his place.”

“Just call me Chance, please,” he smiled, actually even blushing a little bit.

“Oh, okay,” Caroline said. “I’ve heard of Second Chance’s, but I’ve never found my way out there before.”

“Tellya what,” he said back to her, still smiling warmly. “You come out any night and the first beer is on me, and I’ll even spot you to a free meal just to show you I’m full of southern hospitality and good manners.”

“Or just old-fashioned bullshit,” Bill chipped in, strolling up to them. “You’ll note that this ruffian surely didn’t offer to prove his legerdemain around the pit today, Ms. Loring.”

“Screw you, Bill,” Chance laughed. “You want my barbecue, drag your ass out to my place and buy some!” Bill laughed too, and that put Caroline at ease as well. She liked Bill on instinct, and decided Chance should perhaps be judged by the company he kept. She wondered what all businesses these people meant to have at the new mall, and decided she’d find out all that information soon enough.

“Maybe I need to replace Danielle with you for my rodeo act and learn you some manners,” Bill joked back, affecting a thick southern drawl.

“Not on your life, Chief Smoke,” Chance shot back, and then men laughed once more, obviously enjoying the banter. Caroline was curious as to what this was about the rodeo act, but filed it away.

“Actually, we figured to give everyone a little demo after lunch,” Bill said, then explained to Caroline. “The Cuervo Rojo County Fair is coming in a couple months, and the rodeo with it, Caroline, and a lot of locals do different acts there just for the entertainment. It’s in a good cause. The rodeo money, the profits, all go to local youth activities. It’s not nearly so big as that rodeo in Houston, mind you, but they do the best they can. So Danielle and I are going to do a little show for it during an intermission, and you people all get a little preview today.”

“I look forward to seeing it,” Caroline said, hoping they weren’t going to burst into song or something like that. She liked Bill, but his voice, while pleasant, wasn’t that of a singer. But instinct told her to outrageously compliment his singing even if it sounded worse than a cat in a blender.

“Let’s eat,” George called out from the barbecue pit, and everyone lined up for food. The barbecue was delicious, and Caroline raved over it. Rachel, meanwhile, ate a full meal, but still seemed rather off. After the meal was done, Danielle went around with a trash can, tossing everyone’s plate and cleaning off the picnic tables, while conversation turned some toward the new mall. Dr. Orozco was moving her office over there, it seemed, and Kate Norris was opening up a branch of her business there as well, to be managed by young Sharon, which surprised Caroline. She seemed awfully young to take on such responsibility, but then, Kate Norris was known for her successes in business, and Caroline doubted that Kate was putting a fool in charge of anything. But the talk about the mall didn’t go into deep details, just general plans. Caroline was grateful that nobody wanted to lay out details, because she was just about entirely in the dark on this mall project.

“So who’s up to see the show,” Bill asked loudly. He’d disappeared to the barn and Caroline’s eyes widened to see a bullwhip coiled in his right hand. He’d also donned a cowboy hat, she noted. Everyone got up from the picnic tables and got into lawn chairs to watch the event to come in a bit more comfort. Danielle, meanwhile, came out to the middle of the lawn, carrying a small box. She and Bill kissed a moment, and then she stood about six or seven feet from him, and lit a cigarette, crossing her hands behind her back and puffing at it some. Caroline figured out what was coming next, and wasn’t at all surprised when Bill expertly cracked the whip and sliced the tip right off of the burning cigarette. She smiled as she heard Rachel squeak in surprise as Bill handed Danielle two sparklers left over from the Fourth of July, and she held one in either hand, standing with her arms out in a cruciform position. Rachel loosed a deep moan next to Caroline this time, and Caroline didn’t know whether to be amused or worried. And then three lives changed forever as Bill cracked the bullwhip a third time, snapping off another sparkler as Rachel slid from her chair in a boneless heap.

Caroline -- Part Twenty-Nine

They woke earlier that Sunday, albeit not by choice. The phone was ringing loudly at seven in the morning, and a sleep-muddled Rachel answered. It was Allen, asking for Caroline. It took Rachel a while to rouse her mistress, but finally Caroline came to some semblance of wakefulness.

“I hate fucking up your Sunday,” Allen began when he got a sleep-muddled hello from Caroline. “But I need you to handle some business today.”

“Yes, Sir,” Caroline asked.

“Bill Fletcher called me a few minutes ago, and wants to meet you today, if at all possible,” Allen said. “I told him I didn’t think that would be a problem, but that you were still getting up to speed on his account. He said it wasn’t so much about business as a social get-together, but he wants you to be there, at his place, later today. He’s putting on lunch, apparently, and wants you there to meet and greet people. No pressure, but sometimes things like this are more important than all the research in the world on his file. You can learn a lot about someone at lunch that just doesn’t quite make its way into the files.”

“I see,” Caroline said, frowning.

“Go ahead and call him, and make the arrangements,” Allen said. “He’s awake already. He knows I tend to be an early-bird, although he didn’t know I was out of town. I just told him I wasn’t going to be able to come there with you. I’m going to be buried in busy the rest of the day, but call me this evening and let me know what happened, okay?” He gave her Bill Fletcher’s phone number, which she cited aloud for Rachel to write down on a notepad on her bed stand.

“I’ll call him as soon as we’re off the phone, Sir,” Caroline promised.

“How are things going with you and Rachel and your little exercise this weekend,” Allen asked.

“I think better than expected,” Caroline said, smiling as she took Rachel’s hand in hers and squeezed it.

“We’ll talk about that too this evening,” he said. “It looks like I won’t be flying home until tomorrow morning. This stuff here is a total train-wreck.”

“Yes, Sir,” Caroline said. “I’m sure I can keep Rachel busy another evening.”

“I figured as much,” he said, and snorted a small laugh. “I need to go, Caroline. I love you, and you be sure and tell Rachel I love her too. I’ll see y’all tomorrow, honey.”

“Yes, Master,” Caroline said and hung up. She crawled out of bed and went to the bathroom, taking a long moment to pee and then wash her face, trying to get more awake before calling Mr. Fletcher sounding like she was in the throes of a hangover or something. Rachel took it on herself to go get coffee going, and was back upstairs in a few minutes with a fresh mug of it for her mistress right as Caroline was reaching for the phone. Caroline thanked her, and then dialed the phone.

“Hello,” a woman’s voice answered on the first ring.

“Hello,” Caroline said. “My name is Caroline Loring. I’m calling for Mr. Fletcher. May I speak with him, please?”

“Yes, Ma’am, of course,” the woman said. “I’m his wife Danielle. Hold on one moment please, Ms. Loring.” Caroline heard the phone clunk to the table, and a moment later a distant voice saying it was a Ms. Loring on the phone, and yet another moment later, a man’s voice.

“This is Bill,” a warm-sounding voice said. “I didn’t expect you to call back so soon, Ms. Loring.”

“It was no problem at all, Sir,” Caroline said, surprised at how smoothly she told the lie, indeed annoyed that she’d been robbed of a couple more hours’ sleep. “Mr. Martin said you wanted to see me today, Sir?”

“Well not if you keep calling me Sir like I’m some ninety-years-old geezer,” he shot back, and chuckled. Caroline smiled despite herself. His voice and manner thus far were indeed disarming. “What I had in mind was to invite you out for a good lunch, to meet a few friends, some of whom will be occupying spaces in the mall, and some who are just friends. I’ve found that it’s always better to know one’s associates socially rather than just in a business atmosphere. Besides, I do a lot of my work from home, so you’ll probably be out here a lot over the next year or so while we’re getting these things rolling, so you may as well learn to be comfortable here, right?”

“Yes,” Caroline said, cutting off the automatic Sir that usually followed. She couldn’t help being southern and brought up with such mores, and saying sir and ma’am to people was as natural to her as breathing for that reason alone. “I need to know when and where, of course.”

“Naturally,” Bill said. He gave her directions to his house, and then added that she could certainly bring a friend, or a date, if she wished.

“Yes, if I may, I’d like to bring along Mr. Martin’s assistant, Rachel Cook,” Caroline said.

“By all means,” Bill said. “Make sure y’all come hungry now. We’re putting on a huge barbecue. Be here at about one?”

“We’ll be there,” Caroline confirmed. “Do we need to bring anything?”

“Only an appetite,” he answered with a smile clear in his voice. “Oh, and it’s casual here. Just jeans and shirts, nothing fancy. Okay?”

“Alright, then,” Caroline said, her mood improving. If he was as nice as he seemed, it would be a good working relationship to follow, she knew. “One o’clock it is, Bill. We’ll be there.” They hung up, and Caroline finished her coffee.

“So it’s lunch at one, Mistress,” Rachel remarked. “We’ll need to be out of here at a quarter past twelve, by the look of the directions. What do we need to wear, Ma’am?”

“He said it’s casual,” Caroline answered. “Why don’t you get breakfast ready for us? I’m going to go do a few laps in the pool and then we can eat and see how we can kill a couple hours.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Rachel said, and went down to the kitchen. Today wouldn’t be the first social event she’d had with TCBS’ business associates, but she was annoyed that it was cutting into this little precious time she was having with Caroline. On the other hand, she knew that neither of them had much of a choice, and she knew enough about the Fletcher deal to know that Caroline’s monetary circumstances were soon to take a major shift upward. As she started whipping together pancakes, she smiled at a fresh and random thought. Caroline had pretty well given Rachel free rein over the kitchen, bowing to Rachel’s superior expertise here. She was very much enjoying the stoke to her ego that Caroline’s positive ranting about the chow had engendered. She started cooking the pancakes as she heard Caroline splashing in the pool, wondering if Caroline would buy a new house for herself with this newfound wealth, and if she would have a pool of her own put in. She sure seemed to love that luxury here.

“What do you know about Bill Fletcher,” Caroline asked Rachel over breakfast several minutes later. “I’m afraid I got caught kind of flat-footed here this morning. That was going to be tomorrow’s day, learning his file. All I know is that he’s the guy building a mall over in Cuervo Rojo.”

“Not much, really, Mistress” Rachel said. “He owns a hell of a lot of rental housing in the area. I seem to recall that he recently married a woman who works for Bank & Brezhnev, but I’ve no idea what she does for them. I’m afraid he’s a cipher to me. Allen hasn’t said much about him, and I don’t know who even did the work compiling his file. A piece of advice, Mistress?”

“Please,” Caroline said.

“Most people are pretty well up-front about things, and if he’s indicated to you that this is really a social event, it’s probably safe to take him at face-value,” Rachel said. “Besides, by the time you got to the office and opened his files up and started reading up on him, presuming there’s much there in the file to know about him personally, it would be time to haul ass over to his party anyway. Mistress, do you know the phrase ‘stuck like Chuck?’”

“All too well, I’m afraid,” Caroline said, and snorted. “And point taken. These are very good pancakes, by the way.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” Rachel said, once again pleased with herself. They finished breakfast and Caroline told Rachel to come out to the pool after she got the table cleared and the kitchen cleaned. While Rachel did these things, Caroline swam a few more laps. She’d found out she enjoyed the swimming more than she’d remembered, and doing so nude was also something of a liberation. Another benefit was that it helped to loosen the soreness in her shoulder from the epic beating she’d laid on Rachel the other night.

She’d been in the pool for maybe twenty laps when she stopped for a breather to see Rachel in attendance, smiling that Rachel had taken it upon herself to fix another Coke for her. Caroline came out of the pool and drank some of the Coke, then eyed Rachel, circling her while she stood nervously and a bit self-consciously. Her marks were healing nicely, Caroline noted. In fact, the welts were only faint traces on her shoulders this morning, although her butt was still a black-and-blue mess, and was likely to be for several more days. Caroline lightly traced her wet fingertips down Rachel’s spine, and was gratified to see Rachel quivering in response, loosing a bit of a whimper and then jumping as the fingers apparently traced over a ticklish spot.

“Would you like to swim some before I take you inside,” Caroline purred. “Or would you just like to be taken, my dear?”

“As you please, Mistress,” Rachel moaned. Caroline slipped her arms around Rachel and cupped her breasts with her hands, feeling hard nipples as Rachel’s breathing quickened. Outstanding, Caroline thought inwardly, feeling a touch of her own arousal. Jesus, Rachel was turning her into a slut, she thought with dark glee. Caroline’s own nipples had hardened quite nicely too, and she lightly tickled Rachel’s back with them, swaying some to let them swing easily. She was rewarded with another moan from Rachel, and then turned her around, kissing her deeply, letting her know that she was very much desired. Caroline didn’t want to waste time drying off from the pool, and didn’t want to waste time dragging Rachel indoors, for that matter, and so she walked-pushed her to the grass that lay beyond the patio, and they fell to the grass for a wild session of more sex, using one another and both of them exploding into hard climaxes in the soft green grass. After maybe a half-hour of this, as the sun rose higher in the sky, getting the yard already extremely hot despite the early hour, they went into the pool and paddled about the water for a while, cooling off and exercising some. But they were soon tired, and Caroline was just beginning to burn in the hot sun and UV rays intensified by the water, and so they dried themselves and went indoors.

Caroline went to the bathroom while Rachel knelt beside the living room sofa, and when she was done in the bathroom, she went into the dungeon and found a flogger with deer-skin tails, dyed red and black over a handle woven in the same colors, then returned to the living room with it. Rachel eyed the flogger with intermingled fear and desire as Caroline approached, but she held her place, and merely bowed her head to look toward the floor in what Caroline thought was a very nice supplicant posture indeed. Without any preamble, Caroline gave Rachel eight or nine strokes of the flogger, painless ones that only warmed her skin and pinkened it fetchingly.

Rachel purred and growled with the sensation, loving a slow and easy flogging that built her up, heated her, and she could endure one hell of a lot of it when it began just as Caroline was doing. Caroline took a moment and caressed Rachel’s shoulders, then raised the flogger again and laid another dozen or so strokes, these a bit harder, letting the warmth set deeply into her. “Get your little ass to the dungeon, right now,” Caroline ordered. “Crawl, Rachel!” And Rachel did crawl, but it wasn’t a shamed or humiliated crawl, but a proud one, like a great cat in the wild, on the way to her den. Caroline was impressed, and very much excited by what was in store in the dungeon.

Once in the dungeon, Caroline pointed Rachel to a St. Andrew cross, and then told her she had the choice whether to be attached to the cross facing it, or facing outward, to be flogged in front. Rachel shivered a bit, but then crawled to the cross and stood, then about-faced, and spread her limbs to be secured. Caroline secured her to the arms of the cross, then blindfolded her, and then nibbled Rachel’s belly while Rachel squirmed and even giggled, before she retrieved the deerskin flogger and started working her breasts and thighs with the soft leather tails, taking her sweet time in heating Rachel’s skin with the flogger while she moaned and purred in sheer ecstasy. After perhaps a hundred of these easier lashes, Caroline started stepping it up, and by the time she’d laid a hundred more, she was going full bore at Rachel, who was starting to get that distant look on her face of a submissive detaching her mind’s moorings before hurtling off into subspace.

Caroline tired of the deerskin flogger, knowing she’d done all she could with it, and moved to a heavier flogger, an equally beautifully crafted tool with jet-black tails of bull hide. She started off easily again, knowing this item was far heavier and with a greater thud to it than the one that preceded it. But in a moment, she was lashing Rachel quite well with it, deepening the redness on her breasts and thighs, and even her sides, as Rachel only swayed and moaned, her eyes half-lidded on the verge of some special fantasyland. Caroline thought about changing floggers, then decided to stay with this one, since the results seemed to be quite nice. A minute later, her decision was rewarded when Rachel slumped into a swoon in her bonds, shot off into subspace at the speed of light. Caroline envied her this. She hadn’t been to space in a long while, some four years, she supposed, remembering the long-ago event, but not the particular date when her ex had so masterfully send her into this lovely flight fueled on endorphins and trust.

Caroline grinned, quite pleased with herself as well as with her girl, and gently removed Rachel’s cuffs, helping her to the bed, where they lay together a long while as Caroline gently stroked and caressed the cruising Rachel. It took a long while for Rachel to return to some semblance of normality, perhaps an hour, but then she was about to function well enough that they went upstairs, showered and dressed, and were on the road to the Fletcher place in plenty of time.

Neither of them had a clue that the events of this morning would come to light by sundown, and would perhaps irrevocably change three lives. Sometimes life turns in all-new directions on unpredictable little variables, and so would the events of this day take them.

Caroline -- Part Twenty-Eight

The first thing they did the next morning was to eat. They were both starved, and Caroline sent Rachel downstairs to prepare a good brunch for them. Rachel immediately went downstairs, still naked as birth, and feeling a bit sexy and naughty for it, and got a brunch started, deciding on grilled steaks and omelets for two. She had a grill set into her stove, which had cost her a serious chunk of money back in the day, but she’d never regretted its purchase for times like these, although to be truthful, the food from her pit out back was far better, if slower to prepare. She also brewed a pot of coffee and made a pitcher of orange juice, uncertain what would be Caroline’s preference.

Rachel was very sore from last night’s beatings, and swallowed a red flare of resentment that emerged unexpectedly when she twisted to retrieve a spatula and felt a pain in her shoulders. She knew that she’d asked for this, and that if any lesson needed learning, it was to be more careful in the future what she asked to get. And, to be honest, she felt better today in some places in her heart, more at peace to still be controlled even in Allen’s absence. She knew she’d been needing exactly this, and for a long time, to put a point on it. Just as she was finishing, Caroline arrived in the kitchen, wearing a bathrobe and nothing else, and looking very fetching to Rachel.

“Oh, my God, your marks,” Caroline blurted, amazed at how battered her girl looked this morning in the stark light of her kitchen. Her buttocks were a black and blue mess, looking raw where the skin had worn away. And her shoulders scarcely looked better, swollen with long ugly welts that had scarcely faded from their application some twelve hours earlier.

“It’s okay, Mistress,” Rachel said gently. “I’m sure it was a lesson that needed to be learned.” She wondered if Caroline got the subtext of it, that it was a lesson needing to be learned by both of them, and not Rachel alone. She saw Caroline’s eyes widen, and knew her comment had struck its mark, in short, that Rachel was entirely Caroline’s to be used however Caroline pleased, but she should be used with care. And also with a bit of compassion and wisdom, Rachel knew.

“Well, I think the lesson has been successfully learned,” Caroline said after a couple blinks of her eyes. “And I doubt either of us needs to keep relearning the same thing, right?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Rachel said, smiling. “Would you prefer coffee or orange juice, or both?”

“Coffee for now, please,” Caroline said. “I’m still half-asleep even after we slept so well.”

“Black, Mistress,” Rachel asked, and Caroline merely nodded. Rachel fetched a coffee mug from a cupboard, an oversized one with a big image of the Warner Brothers Tasmanian Devil grinning on it, and filled it with the rich black brew, then handed it to her mistress, who smiled and then took slow sips of it. Rachel busied herself getting the small steaks off the grill and the omelets onto the plates, and then took the plates into the dining room. As she fetched the orange juice, Caroline entered the dining room, and sat while Rachel stood, apparently waiting for orders. Caroline sipped more of her coffee, then handed Rachel the mug.

“Refill this, and pour some orange juice for both of us,” she ordered, and Rachel hustled to obey her order, returning in a moment with the mug refilled, and a pitcher of orange juice, quickly filling two glasses. She returned the pitcher to the kitchen, and then came back, standing before her place at the table, awaiting any further commands. “You may be seated and have your breakfast,” Caroline said after a moment of eyeing Rachel, pleased with her demeanor.

“A favor, Mistress,” Rachel asked. Caroline silently nodded, curious what Rachel could want. “Mistress, I’m terribly tender still. May I eat standing, please? I’d rather not put my butt on anything hard, if that pleases you.”

Caroline smirked some, considering Rachel’s request. “Yes, this time you may eat standing,” she said. “But the rest of your meals will be with you seated. Understood?”

“Yes, thank you, Mistress,” Rachel said, then slid her chair out of the way, and bent over the table. “May I eat, Mistress?”

“Yes, you may,” Caroline said, as she cut off a piece of her omelet with her fork, and slid it into her mouth, delighting in it. Rachel was one hell of a good cook indeed, it seemed. “This is very good,” Caroline said, taking a sip of the orange juice and slicing off a bite of the steak.

“Thank you, Mistress,” Rachel answered after swallowing a bit of her own omelet. To Caroline, she looked rather comical bent over the table, and she could imagine that eating breakfast that way would be challenge enough alone, to say nothing of the story of Allen lashing her while she had to eat from this position. Caroline decided to go a bit easy on Rachel today and not spank her or whip her unless she disobeyed or misbehaved. No sense in playing her too hard if her butt was already such a tender mess, after all.

After breakfast, Caroline went out to the pool and swam some while Rachel cleaned in the kitchen before coming out to attend her, if needed. Caroline knew she could come to enjoy this life of luxury, and hoped she wouldn’t need Allen to jerk her too hard back into line on his return, but determined to please herself with Rachel’s service anyway. After she’d spent twenty or so minutes swimming, she came out of the pool and sent Rachel to fetch her another Coke, then sat on a chaise soaking in some of the sun on a bright and surprisingly not-too-hot day. Rachel retrieved the ordered drink, and then again stood near to Caroline, awaiting further instruction.

“I suppose last night wasn’t so great for you, was it,” Caroline asked idly.

“On the contrary, Mistress,” Rachel answered. “Everything after leaving the dungeon was terrific, Ma’am. I can’t say I much enjoyed the time in the dungeon, though.”

“Which reminds me,” Caroline said. “You need to clean the dungeon today, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Rachel said, chagrinned that she’d forgotten temporarily about it. “Shall I tend to that now?”

“Yes, I think so,” Caroline said idly. “And once you’re done, I’ll inspect it and if you’ve done a good job, perhaps you’ll be rewarded with a good climax, and if you’ve done a poor job, then we’re going to make more use of the dungeon until you get it right. Get going now.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Rachel said, and disappeared while an amused Caroline sipped at her Coke, glad she’d thought of a way to remind Rachel to clean up in the dungeon without having to treat it as a forgotten order that might require punishment to set things back in order. Caroline was actually fairly pleased with herself in this, not wanting to inflict more pain on Rachel until this evening, perhaps, when she meant to play her with a few toys and work her way up to sex with her again. But a spanking for fun is altogether different than an engagement to correct and punish. Caroline loved being spanked prior to sex, being dominated, being ruled, being used to please her lover. She somehow suspected, by the completeness of her dungeon, that Rachel felt little different. She smirked and put her robe on, then went into the house and found a book to read, settling on a Dean Koontz title.

For her own part, Rachel had just a little bit of a panic attack, and eyed the dungeon very critically before going on a rampage in cleaning it. She dusted stuff that hadn’t seen cleaning in over a year, like crevices and high spots, and used disinfectants and Windex and two rolls of paper towels cleaning every surface but the floor, and then got a mop and bucket and mopped the floor down. Altogether, as much as a dark and mysterious place such as this was able to do, the dungeon sparkled when she was done with it. What Rachel hadn’t realized in all this, at least until she was done, was that she’d been working four hours in the dungeon, and hadn’t gone to attend Caroline in all that while. A touch of horror encased her as she suddenly hustled into the living room, to find Caroline idly reading a novel, with a glass beside her, empty and bone-dry.

“Mistress, I’m sorry,” Rachel said. “Time got away from me while I was cleaning in there. May I get you another drink, Ma’am?”

“Yes, you may,” Caroline said, eyeing Rachel frostily. Rachel took the glass, knowing deep in her soul that she was about to be returning to the dungeon, clean or dirty, to be taught another lesson in service. Rachel eyed the glass critically, and put it in the dishwasher, grabbing a clean one from the cupboard and refilling it with more Coke, glad she’d thought to stock up before the weekend arrived. She ran it out to Caroline, and then knelt before her while Caroline took a deep drink of the soda and eyed her without expression, something that for some reason chilled Rachel. Caroline set the glass aside, and reopened her book, studiously ignoring the kneeling Rachel, who valiantly struggled not to squirm or draw attention to herself, feeling butterflies erupting in flight in her belly at whatever consequences awaited her. And, of course, in whatever good time her mistress decreed.

There they remained for an hour, while Caroline quietly read her novel and Rachel nervously waited for whatever was to come next. Caroline finished her Coke and shook the glass idly to get Rachel’s attention, a rather arrogant order for a fresh drink, and Rachel went to fetch it, unsure whether to be impressed or infuriated by her mistress’ newfound sense of patience that was keeping her nerves tightly wound.

Actually, Caroline had stolen a page again from her ex-master’s book. He’d done something similar to this a few times with her, making her wait interminably for the axe to fall, sometimes twelve or sixteen hours, while her mind vividly played a nasty variety of details as to just what his vengeance would be. On one of those occasions, literally in the eleventh hour, he’d said that should teach her the lesson, and then went up to bed without another word while her mind went awhirl. She never forgot these lessons, only two of which saw her untouched at the end of the wait, the rest of which found her pretty harshly punished by him. In truth, Caroline wasn’t sure yet whether to punish Rachel physically for this, and was mostly leaning toward just letting her squirm today. She would go to the dungeon and inspect it in a while, and would offer no feedback to that either, letting her worry some more, she decided while Rachel was pouring her drink.

When Rachel returned, Caroline merely eyed her for a moment, and then told her to prepare an early supper. Rachel said, “yes, Mistress,” and disappeared into the kitchen, and before long, delicious aromas started floating toward Caroline, who was becoming quite hungry by now as she read her novel and idly drank her Coke. Caroline wondered what Rachel was cooking, but knew on instinct that she’d never in her life have complaint one about Rachel’s culinary efforts.

“Mistress, dinner is ready,” Rachel said a bit later. “Would you like another Coke with it?”

“Yes, please,” Caroline said, standing and handing Rachel her empty glass. “What’s for supper, Rachel?”

“Stuffed pork chops and mashed potatoes with green beans, Mistress,” Rachel said.

“Very well,” Caroline answered. She went into the dining room to find the table already set and her plate waiting for her. Rachel set her drink at her place and stood waiting while Caroline seated herself. “After I eat, you will sit and eat your dinner while I inspect the dungeon,” she said, and saw Rachel quiver just a bit. Good, she thought. You need to be on the ropes here, Rachel. Supper, as expected, was superb, and Caroline even said so, rewarded with a slight silent smile from Rachel. Finally, Caroline pushed herself from the table, knowing she’d have to watch herself around Rachel’s cooking if she didn’t want to weigh 300 pounds before the next year passed. She quietly resolved to use Rachel’s pool later to burn off some of these calories as she told Rachel to sit and eat. Rachel groaned slightly as her tender butt settled into the hard wooden chair, and Caroline marched to the dungeon to do her inspection of Rachel’s labors.

In truth, Caroline was very much impressed, her nose not missing the powerful smells of Windex and other cleaning agents. No wonder Rachel had been gone so long doing this, she noted inwardly, ashamed of herself that she’d thought Rachel was just being slow on purpose, or wasn’t a fast worker. Obviously, she’d busted her hump in here, although Caroline knew it would be better to make Rachel worry longer and not heap praise on her just yet. And so she left the dungeon with a neutrally cool expression on her face, pleased with the results as she saw Rachel dart a quick look at her from her supper, and fresh worry settling in on her pretty face.

“Bring me another Coke out to the pool,” Caroline ordered. “I’m going to go swimming now for a while.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Rachel said, starting to stand. Caroline stopped her.

“Finish your supper and clearing the table first,” she ordered. “The Coke can wait a few minutes.” Caroline strolled outside into the shady back yard, and dropped her robe to the ground, then dove into the pool, swimming hard laps back and forth until she was exhausted at one end of the pool, panting for breath from the exertion, but feeling good for it. She looked up to see Rachel standing beside the pool, and saw that Rachel had set the Coke on the table next to her chaise. Caroline came out of the pool, dazzling Rachel with her wet and shimmering nakedness, and took a deep drink of the Coke, then sat on the chaise for a time, enjoying the pleasant evening.

“I think it’s time you got your ass to the dungeon,” Caroline said at length, menace in her tone. “Move it!”

“Yes, Mistress,” Rachel said, and moved quickly to the dungeon, her belly suddenly fresh in knots. She was worried as to just how much trouble she was in with Caroline, and how badly she would be punished for it, and exactly how she was to be punished, for that matter.

Caroline followed a moment later, glaring daggers at the nerve-raddled Rachel. “Do you call this dungeon clean,” she asked in an incredulous tone.

“Yes, Mistress, it’s clean,” Rachel said, feeling a little spark of anger at this question.

“Do you think it was acceptable to spend all that time in here without checking to see if I needed your services, Rachel,” Caroline pursued.

“No, Mistress,” came the answer from an abashed Rachel. “And for that, I’m very sorry, Ma’am.”

“Bend over the table there, where you were for your paddling last night,” Caroline said. “Spread your legs. Now!”

“Yes, Mistress,” Rachel said, miserable, and took her ordered position. She whimpered when Caroline put a blindfold on her, but lay there as submissively as possible. Caroline left Rachel there and prowled around in the cabinet and in a drawer unit next to it, getting a few items she’d decided would be handy for what she had in mind. Caroline set these things aside before lecturing Rachel a bit.

“Just so we’re clear, your main task is to serve me, and that means that if I send you to do a chore, it’s with the understanding that you need to check in on me often to see if I have further needs, Rachel. Are there any questions on that before we proceed,” she began.

“No, Mistress,” Rachel said, her voice quivering with her body.

“Perhaps you’ll take heart in the fact that your punishment is my disappointment with that, and we’ll speak no more of it so long as there is no recurrence,” Caroline said to her girl as she lightly stroked Rachel’s bottom, feeling the rough surfacing left by last night’s paddling, and feeling Rachel’s relief as she gusted out a ragged breath. “But we still need to discuss the condition of this dungeon,” she continued after a moment of caressing Rachel’s battered tail. Rachel opened her mouth to object, and Caroline cut her off. “You’d be best not to speak right now if you know what’s good for you,” Caroline said. “Just accept what I give you and you’ll be better for it and not so much a sorry girl for objecting.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Rachel grumbled, feeling distant anger and wondering what chickenshit problem Caroline had with the dungeon’s condition.

“You deserve every last bit of what you’re about to get,” Caroline said with menace in her voice as she selected an item for use on Rachel. “This is going to be applied to your private parts, to put it delicately. Brace yourself, Rachel.”

“Oh, God,” she moaned, stiffening her stance on the table and already grasping its edges in her darkness. “Yes, Mistress.” And then she gasped and growled as she felt a vibrator touching her labia, and then finding her clitoris with Caroline’s skilled hands. She was soon shuddering, caught utterly off her guard in this little reward where she’d feared a punishment, and was soon quivering and whimpering, on the verge of a bone-wracking climax.

“You want to fly, don’t you,” Caroline purred to Rachel, slyly smiling at her while she worked the vibrator skillfully on her clitoris, keeping her right on the brink of climax, thinking wryly that one good turn deserved another, after all. “You want to cum all over this nice clean floor, don’t you, my dear?”

“God, yes,” Rachel moaned. “Please, Mistress!”

“Not yet,” Caroline said, smiling. “We want you to have a very intense little explosion here, don’t we, my dear?”

“Please,” Rachel begged, near tears with her desire.

“Yes, you may,” Caroline purred. In a second, Rachel’s body locked tight and she screamed as a climax was ripped from her body and soul to fly her to the skies above. She shuddered and thrashed, bucking in the throes of her climax for a long while, before collapsing to the table, exhausted and sated, while Caroline smiled, very pleased with her girl. She casually turned off the vibrator and set it aside, impressed with the nice puddle left on the floor in the wake of Rachel’s explosion. She gently stroked Rachel’s skin in long gliding motions as she lay there trying to reassemble. It took a while for Rachel to recover from the climax, and the mind-ride that preceded it, and in truth, Caroline’s caresses were doing more to keep her afloat than to serve as an anchor to the here and the now, but that was a good thing. After all, nobody wants to be jarred back into things after a good hard climax, right?

“Oh, Jesus,” Rachel finally breathed. “Thank you, Mistress. That was … wonderful.”

“And so are you, Rachel,” Caroline smiled. “The dungeon looks marvelous except for this puddle you’ve left right here. Don’t slip in it, okay?”

Rachel giggled, a rare enough sound that Caroline soon was giggling right with her. And then Caroline helped Rachel up from the table and they went upstairs to bed, this time making sweet and tender love for quite some time before exhaustion claimed them and they fell into another deep sleep, both sated and pleased by the events of the day.

Caroline -- Part Twenty-Seven

Caroline went upstairs after about ten minutes, allowing Rachel enough time to get the bath ready to go. She didn’t particularly need a bath, having only showered just before giving Rachel her whipping, but wanted to be pampered and served, spoiled some. Rachel was waiting for her in the bathroom, and Caroline’s nose picked up the scents of some sort of expensive-smelling bath oil, mentally chalking up a couple brownie points for Rachel and her consideration in so doing.

“May I undress you,” Rachel asked. She tried to keep her voice even, but for some reason the thought of bathing Caroline, such an intimate act, had aroused her intensively, and the act of undressing her was also erotic in Rachel’s mind. She hoped so much that she’d be allowed to entertain Caroline between the sheets tonight, even if it didn’t involve her own climax.

“Yes, you may,” Caroline said, and felt her own arousal heightening as Rachel approached her. She wasn’t terribly surprised, remembering how she loved to be undressed by her ex-master way back when. Both women would have been surprised to learn that they shared a common experience with this.

Allen, the day after Rachel went into his service, did a little ceremony with her. He had her come to his house, fully dressed in her finest attire, a fairly new skirt and jacket suit that she had bought scarcely a month before. She didn’t know that day what was on his mind, and hoped it didn’t involve the ruination of her outfit, but knew that she’d be grateful for whatever came her way from him. Amazing her, he was gentle with her that evening, acting around her in nearly reverential awe. “You are a gift to me,” he’d told her that night. “You’re a gift I’ve waited my whole life to have, and tonight, I’ll unwrap you, Rachel, but not like a greedy child on Christmas morning, no. I’m going to savor unwrapping you, my most cherished property.” And then he did just what he said he’d do, slowly undressing her, taking his time, caressing and fondling her, and then kissing every part of her as her skin was bared to him. He took a long while doing this, and by the time it was done, Rachel was a quivering mess, so in love with him that she could just melt. And then, just like some old sappy romance movie, he swept her into his arms and carried her into his bed, and made the sweetest love to her that she had ever felt to that point in her life. It was one of Rachel’s most cherished memories, and would always be.

Similarly, Caroline had been undressed like this too by her ex, the night he put his collar on her, in fact. She’d been in a blouse and slacks, and with a plain bra and granny-panties, unaware that this would happen to her on that night. For Caroline, as with Rachel, it had been the very first time anyone had undressed her, and he took his time as well, albeit with less patience than had Allen with Rachel. He unbuttoned the cuffs of her blouse first, and then removed her watch, and even a ring that she wore. And then he very slowly unbuttoned her blouse, ruining it in the process for tearing those buttons off in his teeth, but Caroline was rapidly beyond caring and very excited by this show of dominance that wonderful night. He tore her blouse from her and dropped the ragged tatters to the floor, and then nibbled her belly, and whispered to her, “I own you, Caroline. From this night forward, from this hour when I undress you, opening your gifts to my eyes, I own you, body and soul.” Caroline remembered shivering in her passion as he continued stripping her, regretting that he hadn’t tipped her off to wear sexier undies. He gave her some spanks on those undies and clucked his tongue at her, and then tore them from her body. He at least gently removed her bra. Once fully naked, he circled her and smiled at her, complimenting her loveliness to outrageous proportions. And then he surprised her by kneeling before her, and holding up her collar in both hands, asking if she’d take it and be his. Never for a minute had Caroline tarnished this memory, and even to this day took all the blame on herself for the end of this relationship with him, and so being stripped again in such a loving manner was deeply moving to her.

Rachel was gentle with her, nearly reverent, as though she were performing a holy rite in this bathroom, The Bathing of her Owner, so to speak. She very gently and slowly unbuttoned the cuffs of Caroline’s blouse, and then just as gently undid the buttons down the front, and took her time sliding the tails of her blouse from her grey slacks. And then she slid the blouse down her long slender arms, from behind, and gasped as she saw the obviously very fresh whip marks on her mistress’ back.

“Mistress, what happened here,” Rachel blurted, completely shocked at the sight of the lash marks, one of which had opened her skin slightly.

“Isn’t it obvious,” Caroline asked rhetorically, then answered the question anyway. “While you were getting me a Coke, before I whipped you, I tried it on myself, to see just how bad it would be for you. For what it’s worth, Rachel, it made me regret that I’d sentenced you so harshly,” she added, hoping it didn’t make her look weak to Rachel. She knew she should probably show only confidence and no regrets, but she couldn’t posture like that. Not yet, anyway.

“Oh, God,” Rachel said. “No, please don’t think that, Mistress. I hated it, but I had it coming, and you doing that proves to me all the more what a good thing this is that we’re doing, that you’d care enough for me to try a bit of my suffering. I think it makes you an even better mistress to me this weekend.”

“I want to do my best by you,” Caroline said, touched by Rachel’s emotion as she gently undid the hooks of her bra and slid it off of her body.

“Mistress, you’ve been wonderful to me, even if I did make an ass of myself in the dungeon down there,” Rachel said. “Pardon my crudity.”

“It’s pardoned,” Caroline said as she heard Rachel going to her knees from behind, and felt her hands sliding around her to undo the button and zipper of her slacks, slowly lowering them down her long and silken-skinned legs to her feet, and helping her to step from them. And then she felt Rachel’s slender fingers reaching into the waistband of her panties, and sliding those down her legs as well, making her as fully nude – as unwrapped – as she had been that long-ago day when she’d first taken a collar. She also felt every bit as cherished right now as she did back when, and the feeling warmed her considerably.

Caroline stepped into the bath and easily lowered herself into the very pleasantly hot water, and Rachel knelt on a folded towel beside the oversized tub. She fetched a bath sponge and soaked it in the water, saturating it, and then soaped it with a scented liquid soap that she’d gotten at some hoity-toity shop in San Antonio a year ago and then never even opened. She was glad now that she hadn’t, that she was giving Caroline a pleasure that she herself had never experienced. It seemed right, somehow, and Rachel smiled furtively as Caroline leaned back in the tub, eyes closed in the dim lighting of the bathroom. As Rachel began running the sponge over Caroline’s upper chest, Caroline loosed a moan of pleasure that broke Rachel out in goosebumps. She kept to her tasks, keeping silent so as not to disturb Caroline’s peace, wincing as her marks stretched and flexed with her motions, but not giving into the pain and whimpering or whining.

For her part, Caroline hadn’t been bathed by someone else since she was a toddler, and was certain the experiences then couldn’t stand in the shadow of the experiences now. She felt completely spoiled as Rachel lavished her in rich-smelling lather. It was one of the most sensuous experiences of her life, and she wallowed in the luxury, knowing the ached for the chance to do this for another, and hoped the opportunity came sometime soon, very soon. She felt Rachel scrubbing her lovingly all over her body, and yes, she felt her arousal rising higher as the sponge caressed over her pubis and inner thighs, as well as her lower belly and nipples. In short, she was as relaxed as she could ever remember being, and nearly as horny as she had ever been, all at the same moment in time. She moaned louder as Rachel’s attentions continued, and knew that she was likely to use her well in bed, as close as two willing women could get to an outright raping.

She felt Rachel’s hand covering her eyes as she used a cup to wet her hair thoroughly, and then heard Rachel’s soft voice close in her ear. “Mistress, may I get into the tub with you to wash your hair,” she asked. “It would be more comfortable to you, I think.”

“And to you as well, I’m certain,” Caroline said with a sly smile. And then she scooted forward some in the water. “Yes, you may, Rachel.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” Rachel said, and got easily into the tub, hissing as the hot water stung her harshly beaten rump, and hissing again as the marks on her back became immersed. She leaned back, then slid her arms around Caroline’s body, and pulled her back to cradle against her, and then lathered her hands with shampoo, and took her sweet time slowly massaging it into her mistress’ scalp, her hair glowing like fiery copper under the low lighting. Caroline was making a sound not far from purring while this went on. Rachel’s strong fingers massaging her scalp were hypnotic in a way, and Caroline kept herself in the present rather than sliding off to sleep by sweet tormenting thoughts of what she wanted to do with Rachel in bed before this night was done.

For Rachel’s part, pleasing Caroline was a special thrill to her, but with the punishment behind her, and forgiveness granted, the pain of her buttocks on the hard floor of the tub, and the pain in her shoulders from the hot water sloshing about was arousing to her even more. She’d always been something of a physical masochist, and had therefore always enjoyed at least some measure of pain, and this, coupled with the naked intimacy and just the basic eroticism of a shared bath, had her ready to be used however Caroline pleased, only hoping that she’d likewise be allowed to climax. She finally finished the massage and rinsed her hair clean as Caroline leaned back into her, completely relaxed and contented. There they sat together, nestled naked and wet in the hot bath, as the water cooled. There they would remain for perhaps a half hour, until the water grew uncomfortably cool, and then Rachel helped Caroline from the tub, and briskly dried her, then brushed her silken and wet hair, again admiring its glow. Caroline turned and kissed Rachel deeply, their tongues dancing together with the promise of what soon awaited them on the satin sheets in the bedroom, and then told her to dry herself and do her hair, and report to her in bed.

“Yes, Mistress,” answered a smiling Rachel, as Caroline exited for the bedroom.

Rachel hurriedly dried herself and ran a brush through her hair, not wanting Caroline to be made to wait one second longer than was necessary. She entered the bedroom, surprised to find that she was as nervous as a virgin bride, and clueless as to why this would be. She’d been with a handful of women, and had even been with Caroline before. But this seemed different somehow, stronger, perhaps even sacred in some sort of way.

“Come to me,” Caroline purred in a low and sexy voice that kept Rachel’s excitement rising. Rachel walked toward the bed, her spine straight and her head high, giving Caroline just a bit of a show, wanting her to feel the anticipation too, and to see Rachel’s pride in serving her new and temporary mistress. Rachel slid into the sheets, almost catlike in her grace, which surprised her actually. She wasn’t a klutz, by any measure, but neither had she ever had the fluid motions of a dancer like she had tonight. Something about Caroline was bringing out the best in her, she knew, and that was also pleasing to Rachel.

The two melted into a slow and sensuous embrace as they kissed deeply, longingly, craving what each other brought into this bed. Soon, hands were roaming freely over one another’s bodies, electrifying them with passion and desires. Their tongues did a slowly heating liquid dance together as their hearts started pounding harder, and their breathing became faster and deeper. And then Caroline gently manipulated Rachel’s head downward, and Rachel easily took her cue, trailing kisses down her mistress’ body, a slow run of kisses down her belly, and then up and down each inner leg, knowing the tease was as important as the finale. She finally worked her way up to her mistress’ labia, and started teasing with her tongue while her ears were gratified by Caroline’s whimpers of desire. Rachel loved Caroline’s flavor, and the aroma was outright intoxicating to her. She felt a bit of a buzz, like a high from some really good booze, as she started tasting and sampling her mistress, so delightfully laid out before her.

Caroline was already an erotic mess, needing so badly to climax that it was nearly a physical pain, but knowing that the build up to the whole thing was sure to make it ever so much more powerful to her. She whimpered louder as the attentions grew stronger, and then finally cried out as her clitoris was attacked by Rachel’s tongue. Rachel lost no time getting Caroline to the brink of her climax, teetering at the edge of the thrilling plunge into the abyss, and then tapered her efforts, keeping Caroline right at the edge, whimpering and crying, her fists knotted in the sheets, doing all she could not to beg. And just as she was on the brink of crying out to Rachel to please let her climax, Rachel took matters into her own hands and went at her fast and furiously, and in seconds, Caroline was screaming and thrashing about the bed, body quivering as she broke out into a sweat, panting and gasping for air as the climax shook her endlessly.

Rachel personally could never tolerate anything touching her clitoris in that immediate time following her climax, and therefore broke away from Caroline’s, trailing kisses up her body. They melted into a long and passionate kiss, sharing their souls in it, an exchange of love and passion and a thousand other beautiful things born of the trust in this exchange. There was a bit of pillow talk that followed, but moments later, Caroline was sound asleep, completely spent. Rachel turned out the lights and was dead to the world moments later. There they would remain for a long while, until the sun woke them both in the middle of the morning.

Caroline -- Part Twenty-Six

Caroline got downstairs quietly, so quietly indeed on her bare feet that Rachel never heard her approach, and jumped a bit in surprise when Caroline spoke up. “Until Allen returns, consider yourself to be my property, Rachel. Get your ass to that dungeon right now!”

“Yes, Mistress,” Rachel said, sounding alarmed as she hustled to the dungeon to await Caroline’s appearance. Caroline took her time, first calling Allen to briefly report to his voice-mail that she was indeed going to take Rachel’s reins for the weekend, and then pouring herself a Coke, which she decided would be the last self-service she’d do this weekend, and drinking it down. She set the glass aside and went to the dungeon, where Rachel was waiting for her, standing and with her hands crossed behind her back. Caroline remembered seeing some movie or other about the military, and knew that this was something called “at ease,” and she shrugged off the trivial memory.

“You get naked, and position yourself on that table for a beating,” Caroline said. “When I return, I’m going to beat you, and I’m going to beat you hard, so you understand just who owns your ass for now, you little bitch.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Rachel said, hurriedly undressing herself as Caroline left the dungeon, slamming the door shut behind her. Caroline went back into the living room, and checked the time, deciding she’d give Rachel ninety minutes to sweat it out in there before tending to her. Besides, she was still plotting what to do to her in there, knowing only that it would be wisest to make her hurt pretty badly so that she had no question of her part in this weekend’s role alterations. The phone rang, and she checked the caller ID. It was Allen, so she answered.

“I just got your message,” he said. “I wasn’t able to take your call a while ago. I had something going on here.”

“Yes, Sir,” Caroline said.

“So you decided to take Rachel up on her offer,” he remarked. “Have you told her yet?”

“Yes, Sir, I did,” Caroline said. “I have her in the dungeon now waiting for me, but I’m not sure what I’m going to do to her in there just yet. So I’m just making her fret and worry some.”

“I see,” he said, and chuckled. “It seems like everyone in this lifestyle with more than two days’ experience knows that little trick, and yet it still works magnificently.”

“Well, if it works on me, I’m guessing it’d work on her,” Caroline said, a bit of good humor replacing her worry. It was always nice to be complimented by Allen, to know that she had earned his approval. “But I still don’t know what else to do to her, other than to make sure it establishes our roles for this exercise.”

“Do you mean to punish her for how she behaved last night,” Allen asked.

“I’m even in a quandary about that,” Caroline confessed. “She was already punished by you, but she makes the good point that she wronged both of us. I know the Constitution hardly applies here, but double jeopardy seems awfully unfair nevertheless.”

“Who said anything had to be fair,” Allen asked rhetorically. “I hear people howling all the time about fair and unfair, but how much in this world is really going to be universally accepted as fair, Caroline? I’m not going to tell you to punish her or don’t punish her, but I want you to keep in mind that fairness is a very liquid thing to define. Am I making sense here?”

“Yes, Master, you are,” Caroline said, understanding his meaning, and its implication. “Master, I’ve never even spanked someone in my life, so this is all just a bit unnerving to me.”

“Caroline, you have good instincts, and you’re a smart woman,” Allen said. “My best advice to you is to dominate her the best way you would be dominated in her circumstance, and I think you’ll do just fine. If you can walk and chew gum, you can use most of the toys in the dungeon except the bullwhips, I’d think. In fact, I’m going to insist that you leave those untouched. Everything else is fair game though, Caroline.”

“Yes, Master,” Caroline answered. “Actually, I hadn’t planned on going near those things anyway.”

“If you get in a jam, you call me twenty-four hours,” Allen ordered. “But otherwise, I’m going to stay out of this, and you’ll see me when I come over Sunday evening. I assume you’re spending the whole time at Rachel’s house?”

“Yes, Sir,” Caroline said. “I’m afraid mine is awfully small, and all I have is a twin bed in my bedroom, and just way too much clutter otherwise.”

“I see,” Allen said. “Okay then. I love you, Caroline.”

“Love you too, Master,” she said, smiling, and glad he didn’t hang up so damn quick this time. “Goodbye, Sir.”

“Bye-bye,” he said, and hung up. Caroline put the phone back on the charger and sat back down, sticking to her ninety-minute plan and finding a news program to watch for a little while. She actually felt better and more confident for having talked with Allen, and started adjusting her attitude accordingly, feeling more and more self-assured that she did have the tools, both physical and emotional, at her disposal to do a good job of this and not muck it up. The time finally elapsed, and she stood up, surprised that not a bit of nervousness could be found in her anymore, and strolled easily into the dungeon.

Rachel, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck by the time Caroline entered the dungeon and loudly slammed the door behind her, and then walked to the cabinet where so many of the weapons of ass destruction were stored, ignoring Rachel’s fearful whimpering while choosing from the array of instruments at her fingertips. She selected a paddle, one of those fraternity-style items, with a geometric pattern of half-inch holes shot through the maple wood, and turned to face Rachel, setting the paddle gently on her shoulders, then turning to see what other selection she wanted to make. She clucked her tongue as she ostensibly perused the items available to her, although she’d already made her choice. No, she was just making Rachel sweat it out right now, taking her time, knowing that she’d be going fucking nuts in her place right now. God knows she’d been there enough times with her ex-master before things went sour.

She finally decided she’d waited long enough, and retrieved a particularly evil-looking homemade flogger, several lengths of sheathed wire attached to a wooden handle with a radiator clamp. Caroline only needed to heft this weapon to know that it would definitely leave a memorable impact. She turned around, and was gratified to see Rachel’s eyes widen with what could only be outright terror.

“Oh, God, please not that whip,” Rachel pleaded, tears leaking from her eyes. “Please don’t use that one, Caroline!”

“Silence,” Caroline snapped, just short of a shout. “How dare you try to take charge of me after begging me to possess you, Rachel? I’ll do to you as I please, and you’ll take what I give you, and you’ll do so with gratitude and a respectful tongue in your head. Do I make myself clear, or should I triple the lashing that your tongue has already doubled?”

“But,” Rachel began.

“But you’d better be very careful with your mouth right now,” Caroline snapped, cutting her off. “That ‘but’ of yours just tripled your twelve strokes to thirty-six, and I can go all night long on you if I need, Rachel.”

“Mistress, may I have permission to speak,” Rachel asked, her tone one of tightly reined anger.

“Yes, you may speak, but keep it respectful if you want any skin left on your back before we’re done with you tonight,” Caroline said, feeling a funny near-drunkenness on her newfound power over Rachel, something that some deeper instincts told her she’d best also keep under a tight rein. She didn’t know the term dom-space, and therefore didn’t know this was what she was feeling, a zone where the dominant feels the emotive rush of power held over another. But she was just bright enough to recognize this newfound feeling as one that could be of potential danger if not controlled, and so she took a couple very deep breaths, trying to stifle it some. She knew on instinct that this mind-set could become as addictive as sub-space, and suddenly had a better feel for why the dominants enjoyed their position of power. She was surprised to find that she was having a hell of a good time, and was surprised all the more so that she was nearly dripping down south with her arousal. Right now, she wanted to beat the hell out of Rachel, and then fuck her pitilessly for her own pleasure, and maybe then she’d let Rachel have a climax. Or maybe not, she reflected.

“Mistress, that whip was one we made a long time ago, and Master used it on me once, and I screamed so hard and it hurt so badly that he promised me after that beating that he’d never use it on me again,” Rachel said, sounding and looking horrified that Caroline had chosen this instrument. “It’s only there as a reminder to me to not let my desires overcome my better senses, because I made that whip for him to use on me, and found out from the first lash that I’d bitten off far more than I can chew. Please, Mistress, he promised me.”

“Yes, he did,” Caroline remarked, and then gave a smile that turned Rachel’s blood to ice. “But I did not issue that same promise, and neither did either one of you put this whip off-limits to me, Rachel. Now, are you going to take your punishment from me, or are you going to give me a fight, where we’ll have to have Allen settle this matter on his return? I would expect that he’ll go somewhat rougher on you than I’m about to do after you’ve backed out of your submission at the first shot out of the gate.”

For a long moment, Rachel was dead silent, and then uttered a low and miserable moan as she considered her position, knowing instinctively that Caroline was right, and that she’d had the opportunity to make this wire whip off-limits, and it had never occurred to her, and that Allen was far the more likely to agree with Caroline. Rachel knew better than Caroline that the possibilities of his retribution could boggle the mind and make the devil, reeking of hot brimstone from the lowest pits of Hell, quake in his boots. She wanted to scream with the anger and frustration of the moment, and hadn’t even been touched yet, at least not physically. It still wouldn’t occur to her for a long time that Caroline had gotten into her mind with artistic skill and instinct, and had already dominated her fully before even one lash was laid. All she knew, all she could see in this moment, was that she was trapped, hoist on her own petard to be perhaps more poetic. “Yes, Mistress,” she finally said. “You’re right, Ma’am. Please forgive me.”

“That had better be your very last time to buck me, you uppity little bitch,” Caroline sneered. “Once more, and you’ll get one hundred of this whip on the spot. Do I make myself clear?”

Rachel made a choked sound that may or may not have been a reply, and then merely nodded at Caroline, miserable in her anticipations of what was soon to follow.

“That’s not an answer, Rachel,” Caroline said impatiently. “So your thirty-six lashes just became forty-eight, and if you don’t answer me right now, it’ll become sixty, and then I think I’ll just up the ante to a round one hundred lashes, just to keep it simple.”

“Yes, Ma’am, you make yourself clear,” Rachel wailed, sounding afraid for her very life, and angry enough to come off the table and do murder. Good, Caroline thought. She needs to be in the right state of mind, after all.

“That’s better,” Caroline remarked with blatantly artificial good cheer. “Good girl! So would you like to know what’s going to happen to you tonight, Rachel?”

“If it pleases you, Mistress,” Rachel said, after a moment’s pause. She wondered just how badly this was all going to go for her. It was like she’d flipped a switch inside Caroline, almost like a Satanic version of that Mickey Mouse movie where he made the brooms start marching and had not the first clue how to stop them.

“It does please me,” Caroline said. “First, just to make certain we understand who holds the power here, I’m going to paddle you very harshly. After that, I’ve decided that I agree you need to be re-punished for your feelings and conduct last night, as well as for your little defiance routine just now. Those lashes will be with this wire whip, and will be laid to your back. If you come off of that table before I give you permission, you will be tied and then you’ll find a whole lot of you ain’t seen nothin’ yet from me, so I’d suggest that you white-knuckle the edges of that table and brace yourself.”

“Permission to ask a question, Mistress,” Rachel asked, as she started a loose grip on the table’s edges.

“Granted,” Caroline said in an impatient tone, throwing in a sigh for good measure.

“How many strokes am I to be paddled, Mistress,” Rachel asked in a more humble tone,
almost that of a little girl in trouble.

“As many as I decide to give you,” Caroline answered, and was rewarded with a shiver that ran through Rachel’s body, making the table creak some in audible testimony to how rattled the woman was.

“Yes, Mistress,” Rachel said in a faint tone, willing herself to remain in place, to submit to this and take it, because that was her place now, and she was the one who cooked up this harebrained scheme. She watched Caroline, her head turned to the side, as she approached and laid the evil flogger in front of her, just to taunt her, while she picked up the paddle and lightly touched Rachel’s rump with it. She shivered again as the cool wood lightly touched her butt, and the table creaked again with her shivering as Caroline’s mouth curved slightly upward in a smile that again unnerved Rachel. It wasn’t a smile to inspire confidence in the soon-to-be-beaten, but one to instead instill a deep sense of dread for what awaited her. Rachel took a deep breath and held it a moment as the paddle left her butt, and Caroline raised it back, taking aim. And then she gushed out the air in a rushing exhale as the paddle impacted her at high speed, sending a shockwave through her body as the maple board made a loud smack that echoed from the walls, soon overpowered by a yelp from Rachel that was louder still, as she tightly grasped the table’s edges, forcing herself to remain in place as ordered, suddenly terrified that she wouldn’t be able to obey Caroline’s order before this event was done.

From her vantage point behind Rachel, Caroline took a moment to examine and admire her handiwork, knowing that the lovely reverse-image of the holey paddle branded into Rachel’s tail would be messed up starting on the second stroke, to say nothing of the number she ultimately intended on visiting on the woman. She’d been entirely honest with Rachel in not assigning a number to the swats she would lay on that hapless rump, and more or less decided to paddle the woman until her own judgement told her that was enough. She remembered something from her long-ago relationship with her ex-master, that on a few occasions he would whip or paddle her on some sort of a just-because justification. The pain would get very intense early on, and before long she was angry with him for hurting her without a good reason, furious. But he kept to what he was doing, and sooner or later, the anger broke, and she could wail aloud, not so much in pain but in a catharsis of sorts. It broke her to his will, she knew, but it also just let her release a million little pent-up negativities that built and festered inside her. She couldn’t honestly say she liked anything about those long-ago whippings, but by that same token, she liked the results, and found herself far more at peace and more contented in the aftermath. She figured that with the short time she would be in possession of Rachel, it would be best to strive for some intensity here and to try to press as many of her buttons as possible in an effort to make her feel as utterly enslaved as these couple days could allow.

Caroline took aim with the sturdy maple plank again, and delivered another bone-jarring swat to Rachel’s already-blistering butt, and Rachel shamelessly cried out as she grasped the edges and forced her body to the table, as though she were trying to join it as one. Caroline smirked, but knew that she’d be in no better shape if their places were reversed. She wasn’t going easy on Rachel, but was applying a harsh discipline to the woman, and there had been no warm-up to this, and would be no mercy until it was over and done. She took aim and whacked Rachel’s blistered tail several more times while Rachel struggled and developed more and more anger. Caroline’s blows were slow and measured, but every one of them was without mercy, as hard as she could strike. She kept up a count, and knew that Rachel’s temper blew on the thirty-seventh swat.

“Goddammit, stop it you fucking bitch,” she screeched, her whole body shuddering. “That’s enough. That’s fucking enough!”

Caroline opened her mouth to reply and then shut it, and merely kept to the paddling, wincing some in empathy as she saw blisters that had risen on her butt starting to wear away. Rachel wasn’t bleeding, but the water blisters were leaking, and Caroline knew the paddle would require a good cleaning after this was done. Rachel’s mouth opened and poured forth a stream of obscenities, but she held her place, quivering with rage and pain, until the anger finally snapped on the fifty-third swat, and she slumped to the table and just started sobbing in great braying wails, a different quality than the earlier pained screaming, and somehow Caroline knew this was her cue. She set the paddle down and helped Rachel to stand, then led her to the bed and lay down with her, just holding her and making soothing noises for perhaps twenty minutes before Rachel finally snuffled a few times and the tears stopped. Caroline’s blouse was soaked in Rachel’s snot and tears by then, but she just held Rachel and showed her some love and tenderness for the time.

“Oh, God,” Rachel moaned huskily. “Mistress, I’m so sorry I acted that way.”
Caroline was by some unknown means able to maintain a poker face, stunned that Allen had apparently never done something like this to her, or Rachel would’ve known more of what to expect. Or so Caroline surmised. Well, Allen was a bright guy, but perhaps he didn’t quite know everything just yet. She wondered if she should tell him about this, suggest it to him, and shuddered with a thrill of her own dread coupled with desire. If she told him, he’d surely be hearing it for the second time. So yes, she’d tell him, she knew.

“Don’t be,” Caroline said. “I think we both needed for this to happen, and exactly the way it has so far.” She realized as she spoke that this wasn’t exactly a catharsis for her, but it came close. She felt strong and confident, dauntless, and knew she was equal now to the tasks that lay ahead. “You know you still have a punishment coming, Rachel.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Rachel said, sounding shaky, but offering up no begging or wheedling for mercy or amnesty. In fact, Rachel was at peace with it. She was still too emotionally rattled to divide and examine her every feeling, but at the bottom of it all, she had just been put in her place, and broken to Caroline’s will quite skillfully. “Mistress, thank you for taking me in hand,” she offered after a moment, remembering belatedly that she’d been ordered to be grateful, and surprised that she meant it. “I’m sorry I didn’t thank you sooner, Ma’am.” She meant this too, and hoped the result wasn’t about to be even more sorrow.

“Well, you were busy crying there,” Caroline said with a distant smile. “Now, go and bring me a fresh Coke on ice, so I can refresh myself before I whip you for last night.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Rachel said. “May I have some water to drink?”

“No, you may not,” Caroline said, somehow knowing that denying little things to Rachel would perhaps hold a big impact on her. “Perhaps after you’ve been punished, you can have some refreshment, but not until then.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Rachel said, painfully removing herself from the bed, and shuffling toward the kitchen. Dreading what she knew was necessary, but steeling herself for it nevertheless, Caroline quickly removed her blouse and picked up the wire flogger, then gritted her teeth, and raised her left arm out of the way. She swung the whip sideways, so that the heel of her hand landed over her left breast, and the wires wrapped around her at high speed, slashing into her back with an agony she could scarcely imagine existed. She whimpered, and felt tears leaking from her eyes, but stayed silent and laid two more lashes just like it, getting a picture of the terrors that awaited Rachel, and wishing she hadn’t sentenced her so stoutly, but then, maybe that’s what was needed, a harsh whipping that would work to break Rachel of any other rebellion or misconduct that might come to the fore this weekend. She heard Rachel approaching in her painful shuffle, and hurriedly put her blouse back on, dabbing her eyes on a sleeve before Rachel came in with her Coke.

“Your drink, Mistress,” Rachel said, even gazing downward as a token of her status as Caroline’s slave, as Caroline’s property, as her lesser.

“Thank you,” Caroline said, hoping Rachel didn’t hear the quiver in her own voice as she still came to grips with the pain of her lashes. She took the glass and took a long drink from it, and felt a bit refreshed. She could feel a tightness in her right shoulder that already told her she’d be very stiff and sore after a night’s sleep. She tried to shrug it off as she drank more of the Coke.

“Do you require any further service, Mistress,” Rachel asked.

“So that you can avoid the beating you have coming,” Caroline asked archly.

“I’m sorry, Mistress. No, Ma’am,” Rachel said hurriedly, darkly amusing Caroline with a cringe of fear at whatever consequences could await Caroline deciding she’d been trying to delay or evade her punishment.

“That’s better,” Caroline said. “Much better indeed, Rachel. Now, I’m going to give you a choice tonight, and you know you’ll get few choices from me. You may choose which item of furniture in here we’ll use to tie you for your beating.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Rachel whispered. She hated to be tied, because it horrified her, but she knew there was no way in this world she could take forty-eight strokes of that whip and not try to run if she wasn’t tied. She doubted she could take six of them without trying to climb the walls to escape. There was a simple cross, T-shaped, in one corner of the dungeon, sturdily built, and Rachel pointed to it, and Caroline told her to move it out of the corner where it could be used, and then told Rachel to prepare all the necessary cuffs and ropes. Rachel hustled to obey, and Caroline, feeling a bit sadistic, swung the whip hard into the oak table, making an evil sound before the thunk of the impact, and was rewarded with a frightened hiss from Rachel as she got things in preparation.

Once everything was in readiness, Rachel took her position and waited for Caroline to come do her part, wishing by now that she’d just stop dragging it out and just do it. Caroline was in a corner lost in an aimless reverie when her daydream was finally pierced by Rachel politely clearing her throat in the hopes that it would get her new mistress to get a move on. It worked, and in a moment, Rachel was tightly cuffed and bound to the post, her raven hair clipped out of the way. Caroline gave Rachel the only kindness she would get for the next several minutes, kissing her tenderly between her shoulders, over her spine, and offering a quickly whispered “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mistress,” Rachel said, her voice making it plain that this wasn’t just an empty phrase, but the straight plain truth.

“Forty-eight lashes,” Caroline whispered, and then steeled herself to her task, and viciously swung the tales into Rachel’s tender bared skin, still bearing livid marks from last night’s session with their master’s rattan. Rachel cried out with the pain as a broad red nest of welts began rising on her flesh. Caroline watched these marks rising, and then grunted with the exertion as she laid an even harder lash, followed soon by the third as she fell into a slow and steady rhythm, just wanting to get this behind them and wishing she’d been a bit more lenient with Rachel.

If Rachel had been capable of focusing on more than the agony, she would have enthusiastically agreed with Caroline that the sooner this whipping was done, the better. She’d been struggling to convince herself that she’d bought and paid for every one of these lashes, all with her automatic mouth that engaged too soon ahead of an active brain that would have stopped it, and while her intellect agreed, her fear kept returning to that awful whip, which she should obviously have destroyed the day Allen promised her he wouldn’t use it on her again. But, she told herself coldly in another voice as she’d waited for this beating that her own stupidity was what put that whip in Caroline’s hands tonight, and perhaps the added lesson was not to be so thoughtless. This thought provided absolutely zero consolation, however.

From the first lash, Rachel was gripped in agony that was only rivaled by Allen’s bullwhip, and it was worse than she even remembered, breathtakingly painful. She didn’t even bother counting, just feeling lost in the agony of her mistress’ discipline, distantly praying to the powers that be to please not let her shame herself further this night and get more lashes than were already coming, and promising those same powers that this whip would be permanently removed from her collection at her next opportunity if they’d only grant her the strength to survive this onslaught against her stupidity.

Caroline stepped up the pace after the twelfth lash, just wanting to get it behind them, wanting Rachel to stop having to suffer like this, wanting to take some time and be tender with her, to take her upstairs and make love to her. Her selfish dom-space feelings when this had first begun had died away entirely. It was no longer intoxicating or fun for her, but pretty frightening, that she was inflicting such agony on someone she liked and loved, even if she knew that she herself would offer no objection to being treated in this manner by their master if she herself had misbehaved. But she was really unsure by now if she ever wanted to hold Rachel’s reins again after this weekend experiment. She was also amazed at how worn-out her right arm was becoming as the lashing continued. It didn’t occur to her when she was selecting the paddle and this whip that they were awfully heavy items, and she wasn’t accustomed to this kind of manual exertion.

At long last, it ended, even if the long last in question wasn’t much more than six or seven minutes, and after Caroline laid the forty-eighth and final lash, she tossed the wire whip aside in disgust, hoping she never had to see or touch it again. Rachel’s back was a mess of welts crisscrossed over more welts. She wasn’t openly cut by the whippings, but there were several dots of blood amidst purple streaks where lashes had intersected. Rachel slumped in the bonds when the beating was done, not quite in a faint, but close enough that the difference was probably academic. Caroline left her on the cross and went to fetch the first-aid kit, actually a cavernous Plano tackle box, from near the toy cabinet, and returned to Rachel with it, irritated with herself that she hadn’t thought of this at first. She cleaned Rachel’s wounds with some peroxide, which brought her around some as she hissed with the fresh insult of pain and stinging.

“I’m sorry, Rachel,” Caroline said, feeling empathetic pain for her. “I think we need to clean these wounds, though, honey.”

“I know, Mistress” Rachel said through teeth clenched against the pain. “I’m just glad you’re using the peroxide and not that orange or yellow shit in there. Jesus, that stuff burns worse than alcohol. It’s got to be an instrument of the devil.” This last was said with a touch of wry humor to her tone that heartened Caroline.
She knew that if laughter was possible, then the spirit was alive and well. Caroline did the best she could with the wounds, knowing they would just need time to heal, and praying that Rachel wouldn’t need to be brought back here any time soon.

“Are you strong enough to stand now, or do you need a bit more time on the post to gain some more energy,” Caroline asked.

“I can stand, I think,” Rachel said, flexing her knees what little the bonds would allow. “But if it’s all the same to you, Mistress, I’d as soon not go up the stairs just yet.”

“Okay,” Caroline said, and started releasing Rachel’s bonds from the bottom up, figuring that if Rachel weakened, at least the wrist restraints would hold her long enough for Caroline to grab hold of her and let her down gently. But Rachel was able to stand strongly, and in a minute was out of her bonds. She still needed a bit of Caroline’s help to stand and walk a couple steps, but was soon doing better, although Caroline decided it would be mean to tell her she looked like hell right now, even if it was true. Rachel was pale and sweaty, didn’t smell too delightful if the truth be known, and her hair was a sweat-soaked disaster. They made their way out of the three-car dungeon and into the house, and Rachel asked if she could get Caroline anything from the kitchen, or perform any other service required.

“Another Coke, please,” Caroline said, kicking herself for the thoughtlessness of not retrieving her glass from the dungeon. She started to turn and retrieve her glass, and Rachel stopped her.

“With your permission, Mistress,” she said. “I’d ask that you allow me to clean the dungeon tomorrow, and get you a fresh Coke and glass?”

“Very well,” Caroline said. She went into the living room and sat on the sofa while Rachel prepared a Coke for Caroline and water for herself.

“Will you be requiring anything further, Mistress,” Rachel asked a moment later as she presented Caroline her Coke.

“Not at the moment,” Caroline said. “Would you like to be seated?”

“Mistress, if you insist, I will, but I’m awfully tender and I think I’d prefer to kneel,” Rachel said.

“That makes sense,” Caroline answered, and then tossed a big throw pillow onto the floor. “But I suppose your conduct thus far has earned you at least this much comfort.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” Rachel said. Caroline found herself oddly irritated by Rachel’s patterns of speech, using the word mistress as though it were a comma. They both called Allen their master, but neither did they overuse the word. But perhaps, Caroline reflected, Rachel needed to do this to constantly remind herself of this new world order that she was living for a couple more days. Caroline decided to let it pass for now, too tired to play Twenty Questions, and not wanting Rachel to feel on the defensive for a while yet. Let her enjoy her water and rest up some, Caroline decided. Rachel soon drained her glass of water and asked if she might have another, and Caroline nodded absently, letting Rachel kneel again when she returned.

“When you’re done with that glass of water, we’re going to go upstairs,” Caroline said. “You may as well come to the understanding here and now that I shouldn’t have to lift a finger to serve myself until Allen returns. You will be providing me every service imaginable until you’re released back to him. Now, you’ve had a taste of what to expect from me when you misbehave. If you have questions or misgivings, now would be a very good time to put voice to them.”

“Mistress, I’m certain you’ll give me no orders that would harm me or that would be impossible to obey,” Rachel said.

“Go upstairs and draw me a hot bath,” Caroline ordered. “I’ll be along in a moment.”

Caroline -- Part Twenty-Five

Caroline dressed herself, frowning at the mussed condition of her attire, and departed for home to pack a few things, her mind racing at top speed all the way, feeling butterflies erupting in her belly in an aerobatic parade. She’d never dominated anyone in her life, not even in an Internet chat room, and the thrill it shot through her to even do what little dominant things she’d done to Rachel astounded her, and left her feeling a bit dismayed and awed at the tremendous responsibility this could impose on her if she decided to take up this challenge. She packed a few changes of clothes, mostly things she decided could be left at Rachel’s, and to that end, decided to stop on the way back to Rachel’s house to buy some basic toiletries, figuring that it would probably be convenient to her to have such items there, and possibly also at Allen’s house, if that also became a regular stop for her. Ten minutes and ten dollars later at a local Walgreen’s, Caroline was back on the road to Rachel’s, her mind still awhirl as she wondered after her decision.

As she was leaving Walgreen’s, her cell phone rang and she answered it. It was Rachel asking if she wanted to go out for supper or eat at home. After a moment’s discussion, they both decided that Rachel would grill some snapper fillets, and Caroline agreed to stop along the way and get some salad fixings, and poke around to see if a dessert leapt out of the cold case into her basket. Caroline hung up, amused, and not for a second fooled by the real reason behind Rachel’s call. She knew that Rachel was probably on as many, if not more, pins and needles than she herself was, and just wanted to reach out and hear her voice, perhaps to ensure that Caroline was indeed going to return. What to do about supper just made for a convenient ruse to gaining her needed reassurance, Caroline knew, smiling.

Caroline ran into an HEB and got a couple salads-in-a-bag and decided to get some oil and vinegar dressing and some ranch dressing, which seemed universally neutral, and then found a really tasty looking chocolate cake with coconut icing in the bakery section, and on an impulse fetched a couple bottles of wine, one red and one white, in case they decided to imbibe some tonight. She paid for her purchases and was at Rachel’s door five minutes later, only then realizing that she’d been so preoccupied that she’d forgotten the joy of driving this new BMW.

She smelled the smoke of Rachel’s grill, and the aroma alone had her nearly drooling as she fetched her bag and the groceries and went inside, not bothering to knock this time. She put the groceries up in the kitchen, and took the toiletries and her bag up to Rachel’s bedroom, where she set the bag at the foot of the bed, and then the toothpaste and the rest on the bathroom counter. She went back downstairs and found Rachel in the kitchen, putting seasonings on two really nice snapper fillets, and asked how she could help.

“For the time, I’d like to do this on my own,” Rachel said, sounding surprisingly shy. “Even if you’re not going to own me this weekend, you’re still a guest in my home, and besides, I kind of like getting to be Betty Crocker, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Okay,” Caroline grinned. “That’s fair enough, and thank you. I’m one of those hopeless people you hear tell about who can burn water in a refrigerator, I’m afraid.”

“Ack,” Rachel exclaimed with a chuckle that tickled Caroline. “Then one way or another, get your ass out of my kitchen! We can’t have you setting the water on fire in here, after all.”

Caroline laughed and went to the living room, and turned on the television, idly surfing the channels for something worth watching. She settled on a re-run of Saturday Night Live and laughed at some of the antics of the performers, although much of it was dated humor. She could feel her belly growling as time went by, but soon enough, Rachel announced dinner, and asked what Caroline would like to drink. Caroline decided on another Coke, tipping her hand as a Cokeaholic, but knowing with an inward smile that her dirty little secret had to come out sooner or later. She followed Rachel into her dining room, and wasn’t really surprised to see her plate set at the head of the table, knowing that Rachel was trying to do everything to prove to Caroline that she really wanted to submit to her this weekend.

The dinner was marvelous, the fish cooked and seasoned to perfection, and the corn on the cob alongside it perfectly sweet and wonderful. Caroline saw that she had wasted a couple dollars on dressing, since Rachel had made a vinaigrette dressing that was out of this world. Caroline raved over the meal, while Rachel blushed with pride that she had done so well. The cake that followed was also a little slice of Heaven, and Rachel admitted that she wasn’t worth a hoot in hell with pastry, and was glad that HEB was. All the while, they confined their talk to the meal itself and other small talk, tacitly agreeing not to discuss the important matter until supper was done and the dishes were in the dishwasher and they could focus on one another. And both women were secretly glad to have a brief respite from the nerves and wondering, but the avoidance of the topic that the meal afforded could only last so long, and then it was time to talk, and to decide what they were going to do.

“Rachel,” Caroline began. “I may as well lead off by telling you that I’m still up in the air about this, and that I still have some strong misgivings. I’m worried that I’ll fuck this up and that it will derail our happy little choochoo train here, and I think that’s the last thing we want. On the other hand, I’d be lying if I didn’t say that this proposition of yours isn’t very enticing, because I think the possible upside is a great one for us all.”

“I don’t think the risks are as great as the potential rewards,” Rachel said carefully.

“Perhaps,” Caroline said. “For the moment, let’s presume on the hypothetical situation that I’ve agreed to this. I asked you earlier to think on this, and so I’ll ask you again now that you’ve had some time. What would be your limits in this, Rachel?”

“Actually, very few,” Rachel said. “No permanent marks of your ownership on me, try not to leave scars on me, and return me willingly to Allen when he gets back here.”

“Those conditions make sense and would be acceptable,” Caroline said, keeping her tone neutral. Actually, the thoughts of any of Rachel’s specific limits hadn’t occurred to her anyway. She certainly had no intention of laying her own brand on the woman, and neither would she endeavor to leave lifelong scars on her, body or soul. And she suspected that even if she were willing to do this exercise over the next few days, she’d be only happy to return Rachel to Allen’s control. Herself too, for that matter, she reflected.

“Caroline, if you take up this offer, I’d be pleased if you didn’t lift a finger for yourself this whole time,” Rachel pursued. “I’ll serve you in every way you’d wish me to do. Your wish would literally be my command.”

“And if you failed me, disobeyed,” Caroline asked idly. “What then, Rachel?”

“Until Allen’s return, you would hold all of his power and authority, Caroline,” Rachel said, her voice betraying a bit of worry at this thought. “In fact, something else that I guess needs to be put on the table is this. I didn’t flat out tell Allen this, but I think he got the picture clear enough anyway. He doesn’t have the world’s best people skills, but he can read me like a book, and always has, for some reason. I don’t understand how he’s so good at reading me and not so good at reading other people all the time, though.”

“Rachel,” Caroline snapped, interrupting the tangent. “You’re beating around the bush again, and if that’s how this is going to be, we may as well cut to the chase and I’ll just decline now and go up to bed and get an early night’s sleep.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Rachel said, nearly crying. “I know I’m a nervous wreck, Caroline, and as much as I want this, it isn’t easy.”

“It isn’t supposed to be easy,” Caroline said. “Now what’s this other issue? Speak up now, or we’ll just call this off and go have a girl’s day out tomorrow.” Caroline was surprised by her own assertiveness, a quality that she only rarely found within herself, but was pleased with the results, that it got Rachel back on track rather than running off willy-nilly with some hope that she could avoid things all night.

“Okay,” Rachel said, and drew in a deep breath to settle herself, then laid it on the line. “Allen beat me for my little jealous tirade, and I deserved every bit of that from him, but I think I deserve for you to punish me as well, since you were really the offended and injured party.”

“So you think I could cane you on your back like Allen did,” Caroline asked, feeling a little tug in her belly that she couldn’t quite identify as fear or desire.

“I think you should punish me for that however you see fit to do,” Rachel said. “To not even consider what Allen did to me, but instead to give me the punishment you think I deserve, as though he’d never laid a hand on me. All I’ll ask there is that you punish me as your capabilities allow. If you don’t know how to use a horsewhip, for instance, please don’t.”

“I see,” Caroline said. “And that makes sense. I’d probably try to crack a whip and find myself lynched by misadventure anyway.” She chuckled at the imagery, seeing only a ghost of a smile on Rachel’s face, her eyes still wide and hopeful. “Okay, Rachel. For now, I want you to stand on your knees in that corner there, nose in the corner, hands crossed behind your back, while I decide what to do here. I’m going to go upstairs and do a bit more thinking, and then I’ll return and tell you whether or not you remain under my power.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Rachel said, and shivered a bit as she positioned herself as ordered, at the same breath craving and fearing Caroline’s control. Altogether, it was a delicious experience.

Upstairs, Caroline undressed and got into the shower. She still smelled of the strong chlorine of Rachel’s pool, and wanted to smell a good deal more feminine than that. Besides, time in a bath or shower had always been good time for her to do some thinking. Her decision made, she went downstairs to announce it to the kneeling Rachel.

Caroline -- Part Twenty-Four

“Wow,” Caroline said, as she turned onto Rachel’s street. “That’s one hell of a story, Rachel. I wonder why Allen is even interested in me, considering your devotion to him.”

“Because he sees something in you, and so do I for that matter, that’s worth having and holding,” Rachel said in a matter-of-fact tone. “At a few points, maybe two or three times a year, we’ve had submissive playmates for a long weekend here and there, sometimes they’d come to his place or mine, and sometimes we’d meet up out of town, but it was more a kinky topping and bottoming weekend rather than real dominance and submission, but you’re different, Caroline. You were only too happy to give yourself to Allen, and you remind me a lot of myself back then, eager to serve and please, even knowing you’re going to have your fubars now and then.”

“I’m flattered,” Caroline said. “I just hope I can live up to your expectations of me, Rachel.”

“I don’t really think that’s going to be a problem,” Rachel said, smiling, as Caroline pulled the new Beamer into her driveway. “Let’s go inside, and see what else awaits us this day, okay?”

Inside, Rachel poured a couple Cokes for them, and then led Caroline outside, on the back patio, which Caroline realized right then she’d never seen. There was a very nice pool set into the patio, surrounded with flagstones, and with a huge stone waterfall at one end and a hot tub built into the other end. Altogether, it looked like a little piece of Heaven, and Caroline said so. She was also impressed with the wall surrounding Rachel’s spacious back yard, an edifice of stone cladding that stood eight feet tall. Looking around, Caroline could see that the pool area was completely secluded from all eyes, so skillfully had the wall been placed. Rachel started undressing, and told Caroline she was welcome to do the same.

“Why waste a bathing suit that’s not needed, right,” Rachel asked rhetorically. Caroline grinned, kind of enjoying the whimsical thought of doing this, and started to peel off her own clothes. In a moment, they were both paddling about the pool, and a moment later, they were in the hot tub, both groaning as the stresses of the day drained away from them. They sat drinking their Cokes and just relaxing, but Caroline knew that Rachel was looking for the right words to say to lay out whatever this big secret was that Allen had hinted to her on the phone.

“Caroline, I talked to Master this morning, and told him I had an idea for us to try, if you’re okay with it,” Rachel began in a shaky voice, finally breaking the heavy silence only punctuated by the humming motors and swishing water in the hot tub. “You’re an intelligent woman. Indeed, it’s a big part of your appeal here. But there’s such a thing as an intellectual understanding, and such a thing as a visceral understanding. Are you following me so far?”

“Yes, that while my mind understands something, that I don’t have it locked in, deep in my gut,” Caroline answered. “I get that part, but I have no idea where this is going, Rachel.”

“Well, it’s obvious that we’re conducting ourselves in some sort of alpha and beta relationship,” Rachel continued after a deep breath and a slug of her Coke. “And it’s just as obvious that we shouldn’t be doing so, Caroline. I’m not your superior, no matter the fact that I’ve been around here longer. I’m your equal. And there’s something else …” she trailed off.

“I’m listening,” Caroline said, becoming impatient and a bit annoyed with Rachel’s beating around the bush, but keeping her voice even.

“Fuck it. I just need to take the bull by the horns,” Rachel said. “What I proposed to Allen was that I spend the weekend, starting this evening, in your service, Caroline. That you dominate me, use me however you see fit, and therefore prove to both of us that you’re not my inferior.”

“And the rest of it,” Caroline said with a calm that belied intense fluttering deep in her belly at what Rachel proposed. She didn’t even have a clue what to think about this, and suddenly wanted nothing more in this world than to reach out to Allen and ask his advice. And then she remembered that she was supposed to call him in a while anyway, and decided to make no decision whatsoever until she sought and received his counsel.

“Everywhere else in my life, mostly on the job, I’m an in-charge person,” Rachel said. “Hell, Allen even says I’m his dominatrix at the office, and he’s not altogether joking. I’m in charge of his schedule, and making sure everything in his life in and out of the office is well-oiled and moving smoothly. After he enslaved me, he gave me more and more responsibility on the job too, and the upshot of it all is that I went from being his executive secretary to something more like his personal assistant, and that gives me one hell of a lot of power and responsibility. And I found out that I have a good knack for being in charge of one hell of a lot of things, both in his comings and goings as well as at the office. But it never quite occurred to Allen, who’s usually pretty good at picking up on these things, that I need a corner of my life where I have no control, where I’m just at the bottom of the food chain and without any power at all.”

“Okay,” Caroline said, her interest in what Rachel had to say as obvious as her confusion.

“In short, I don’t want to be in control of a damn thing in my life, even when Allen’s gone,” Rachel said. “If we can make it work, I’d far the rather play beta to your alpha when Allen is away. Are you still with me?”

“Yes, I’m following where you’re going,” Caroline said. “But I don’t know if I’d be good at that, Rachel.”

“That’s why I propose to serve you over the weekend,” Rachel said. “To start seeing how, or if, we can establish those roles. I know it’s not an easy thing for you, Caroline. But if one of us is going to be in the lead of the other whenever Allen’s out of town, I’d far rather it was you than me.”

“But you’ve been with him longer,” Caroline objected.

“I’m not saying I can’t be a good point-source of information,” Rachel interrupted. “I know Allen better than you do, and we’d both be foolish to deny that, and when we’re together with him, we’d be equals in his eyes, or alpha and beta as he sees fit for us. But he’s out of town quite a lot on this business run or that, and in those times, I’d be better off still under control rather than on my own.”

“I think it goes without saying that I’m going to need to talk this out with Allen,” Caroline said. “This is a bit much for me to manage just out of the blue.”

“I know,” Rachel said. “But if you made an instant decision to do it, I’d worry that I offered up my service to the wrong person anyway. What I want from you will be pretty hard for you to do, Caroline, and I know that. Hell, I even know I’m asking for the easy part of this, because I don’t have to be the decision maker or the leader. All I have to do is obey you, or suffer the consequences. It puts a burden on your shoulders, and it might get confusing when I submit to you but still stand as your adviser sometimes, even in a bit of a mentoring role, especially with specific regard to Allen. But I think that even if it turns out to be a desolate failure for us, at least we know we tried it out.”

“I understand what you mean,” Caroline said. “I don’t even necessarily think you’re wrong about it, but I’d still like Allen’s advice and counsel on it.”

“Of course,” Rachel said. “Shall I bring you a telephone and then give you some privacy?”

“Yes, please,” Caroline said, not even aware that she had already taken a small measure of control from Rachel, although it didn’t escape Rachel’s attention at all, who instantly got out of the hot tub, dried herself with a towel very quickly, and then walked toward the house smiling to herself, then returned with the phone and disappeared back into the house, tempted beyond compare to listen in on the call, but not allowing herself to do so. She knew that some things would have to be hidden from her, and fair was fair. She hadn’t been one hundred percent honest with Caroline either, after all.

Out in the hot tub, feeling decadently spoiled in the circumstances, like some high-powered bitchy Hollywood star, sitting in a hot tub, phone in hand, and a cool drink by her side, all provided by someone aspiring to be her serving girl. The image actually amused her quite a lot, even as it worried her some at the same time. She tried calling Allen’s cell phone and got a flurry of static and a disconnect, and so waited a few minutes, then tried again. This time, he came in loud and clear.

“I just talked to Rachel,” Caroline said. “She says she wants to serve me while you’re gone, Sir.”

“Yes, that’s what she’d run by me earlier,” Allen said, sounding a bit amused. “You’re dubious about it.” This last wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“It’s worrisome,” Caroline admitted. “I’ve never in my life had that kind of responsibility, Master, and I know that it’s not easy to be the dominant. And I suspect Rachel is something of a handful anyway.”

“Not once you’ve jerked a knot in her ass really good,” Allen said idly. “And that should happen soon. She as much as said that if you were to beat her for her little jealousy stint last night, she’d be grateful for it, because it would mean more coming from you than it did coming from me.”

“Master, do you think this is a good thing,” Caroline asked. “For that matter, are you hoping I do this or hoping I won’t, Sir?”

“I think this is one of those times when you’re going to have to stop relying on me and make a decision. This won’t do you or Rachel one whit of good if I’m just pulling the puppet strings all the way from Minnesota, now will it,” he asked rhetorically. “I’ll just say that if I didn’t approve, I would’ve told Rachel that and it would’ve gone no further. So do with that as you will, Caroline.”
“You’re not being a lot of help,” Caroline said, still chuckling some, even though she was annoyed and afraid of making a bad choice without his advice.

“Actually, I am,” Allen said. “Caroline, you know that my work calls me out of town often, where I won’t be directly available to you or Rachel, and this is a test to see if you can perhaps be in charge in my absence, or if not, if you can at least behave in a manner that means I won’t have to worry about how you act or perform while I’m gone. So right now, this is a way for you to prove yourself, one way or another, and for me to gauge my reaction from that.”

“Wow,” Caroline said, chewing on this new food for thought. Her ex-dom hadn’t had a job where he had to travel a lot, so he was pretty much available to her all the time, so long as she hadn’t driven him up a wall to the point that he wanted nothing to do with her, which she sadly recalled was far too often. She wanted to think she’d grown up a lot since then, and had learned a thing or two about how to keep the sticky side down. One way or another, she was wise enough to know that she’d been handed a challenge, and to back down from it would probably disappoint Allen as well as Rachel. Besides, perhaps Rachel was right and they needed this to prove to their guts what their heads already knew.

“One way or another, I want you to spend the weekend with Rachel, there at her house, or at yours if you prefer,” Allen said. “I want you to share the same bed, and I want you two to get to know one another and to get comfortable with one another, okay? For my part, I’ll see you girls on Sunday evening sometime. I’m going to take some time to just put my feet up. It’s nothing against either of you, but sometimes I need some alone time, and this looks to be a very good opportunity.”

“Yes, Master,” Caroline said, understanding his meaning, and actually a bit aroused at the thought of sharing all this time with Rachel. Well, actually, a good deal more than just a bit, she admitted to herself. She had the hots for Rachel, and that was that. “Sir, do I need to decide right this minute?”

“No, but I think Rachel deserves to know something by the time you two go to bed tonight,” Allen answered.

“Thank you, Sir,” Caroline said.

“One thing more, and I’ll let you go and do some thinking,” Allen told her. “Whether you decide to accept or decline this offer, you and Rachel are both snitches to me about one another, because it’s for your own good that I know everything I need to know, good or bad, about how you conduct yourselves. I’m sure she’ll give me a full report about you, good and bad, when I return, and I’ll expect the same from you. I think it’s important that you’re both monitored by me, even after the fact. Got that?”

“Yes, Sir,” Caroline said. “Actually, Rachel talked to me along those lines, but not as completely as you did. It goes against everything we’ve learned since we were kids, but it makes sense, Sir. After all, what good is this if we keep hiding things from your view?”

“Exactly,” Allen said, sounding pleased with her attitude and thinking. “I’ve got to go now. I’ll be in touch sometime tomorrow. I … umm … hell, I may as well say it, right? I love you, Caroline.” And then he hung up before she could say she loved him too, surprised indeed that she actually meant it.

“I love you too, Master,” she said into a dead phone anyway, and then turned the phone off and leaned back in the tub, closing her eyes and doing her best to think this matter to a good conclusion. She sat there for perhaps ten minutes, when her ears registered the patio door opening, and she turned to see Rachel approaching her.

“So do I call you ‘Mistress’ or just ‘Caroline,’” Rachel asked with a slight smile.

“I don’t know yet,” Caroline said, being honest, and then shook her glass, empty but for the clinking ice cubes. “But get me another Coke, please, while I’m thinking this through.”

“Yes … okay,” Rachel said, and Caroline knew that Rachel wanted to call her Mistress or Ma’am, and smiled to herself as Rachel disappeared into the house.

Rachel wasn’t the type to pray all that much, and wasn’t even sure where her spiritual leanings lay these days, but she prayed to whatever gods might be listening that Caroline accept the offer. While she’d patiently waited for Caroline to talk on the phone and then do some thinking, she’d tortured herself with delicious fantasies of serving this sexy redhead she was starting to love, and wanted to make those fantasies come to life. Even so, Rachel had felt a thrill course through her to be sent on even so mundane an errand as to fetch Caroline a fresh drink, so badly was she wanting to submit to her. She wondered what was going on with her, because she’d sure never felt these things before with anyone but Allen, and certainly nobody she’d met online, or even the occasional real-life get-togethers they’d had with others, to include on dominatrix who really gave her a good working-over while Allen watched nearby. But all of those events were just physical, really, and Rachel enjoyed them immensely, but never really felt an emotional attachment to these others. But something about Caroline, on getting to know her, moved Rachel very much, deep inside her heart and soul. And so, she wanted very much to spend this next few days in her service, to prove her love, as well as to teach them both that she wasn’t Caroline’s superior by any means.

Of course, Rachel and Allen had both kept one facet of this from Caroline’s eyes, deciding if she didn’t figure it out on her own just yet, perhaps so much the better. They both knew that if Caroline took up this challenge, that she would be the sort of dominant to Rachel that she herself wanted and needed. It was simple human nature, after all, but often overlooked. And such information would benefit Allen and Caroline greatly, even if Caroline didn’t quite know it. After all, everyone wanted this to be immensely satisfying to everyone else, and Caroline was new to this triad, and therefore an enigma, if not intentionally so. Rachel doubted that Caroline had it in her to be less than perfectly honest with them about her needs and desires, but she also knew quite well that sometimes more could be told in an hour of action than a week of words.

She topped off Caroline’s Coke after the fizz settled, and walked it back outside to her, finding her resting naked on a chaise near the pool, her still-wet body glistening enticingly in the afternoon sunlight, and her hair glowing like copper set alight. Rachel just stood there admiring the view for a moment, captivated by Caroline’s loveliness, even as a dim part in the back of her mind told her that she needed to serve Caroline’s drink, and that perhaps she should also suggest some suntan lotion for her before she burned under the blazing sun that heated this part of Texas most of the time. She finally got her feet back in motion, and handed Caroline her Coke, not daring to breathe a word that would upset the applecart of Caroline’s decision-making process.

“Thank you,” Caroline said absently, taking the Coke and a long deep drink of it. “Get me a towel, please, Rachel. I don’t know where you stash them.”

“Of course,” Rachel said, amazed at herself and how excited she was to get yet another mundane order to follow, no matter how the wording couched it as a request. She went to a tall plastic Rubbermaid cabinet and opened it, finding a dozen or so towels in it, and fetched one, along with a tube of Bullfrog that she always made sure to keep on hand, and then returned to Caroline with these things. “I have some sun block here if you’d like to use it to keep yourself from getting burnt, Caroline.”

“Thank you,” Caroline said, taking the towel and leaving the Bullfrog. She stood up and started to dry the water from her skin. “I’ve been out in the heat enough, though, so I’m going back inside anyway, Rachel.”

“As you wish,” Rachel said, letting her demeanor communicate her desires. She watched Caroline hungrily as she toweled herself off, and then strolled inside, still naked as birth, to take a seat on Rachel’s sofa. Rachel was bright enough and perceptive enough to know that Caroline was testing the waters, perhaps to see how well she could handle this new role, and that this was the reason Caroline had walked inside and left her clothes scattered about the patio. Rachel was pleased by this, and gathered up her own clothes as well as Caroline’s, folding them neatly and then entering the house, setting them on a table in her living room. She stood quietly at a distance, facing in Caroline’s direction, silently hoping that she was soon to be taken in hand by her guest, and hopefully run through the wringer. From time to time, she desired such deep intensity from Allen, and was very eager to experience such at Caroline’s hands as well.

“Come to me,” Caroline said. “Kneel down in front of me.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Rachel said softly as a thrill coursed through her soul. She came to Caroline’s feet, and as gracefully as she could, knelt before her with her buttocks resting on her heels, looking up to Caroline’s face, and was rewarded with a slight smile that warmed her heart. Caroline leaned forward and cradled Rachel’s face in her hands, eyes locked onto hers.

“Is this really what you want,” Caroline asked. “If I agree to this, there will be no turning back until Allen comes and takes you from me, Rachel. If I agree to this, you’ll be as enslaved to me for the days to come as you are to Allen.”

“Caroline, I want this more than anything, believe it or not,” Rachel said in a matter-of-fact tone that hid her deep thrill of excitement. “I want to know what it is to be in your service, to be taken in hand by a fellow slave, and run ragged to prove myself to you.”

“Would you impose any limits,” Caroline asked idly.

“A good question,” Rachel answered. “May I have a moment to consider my answer?”

“Of course,” Caroline replied. “I’ll tell you what. One way or another, Allen suggested that you and I spend the weekend together, sleeping in the same bed, et cetera. So here’s what I suggest. I’ll go home and pack a few things to bring back over here, and that hour or so will give us both time to consider and reconsider, and then after we’ve talked again, I’ll render my decision.”

“As you wish,” Rachel said once more, feeling vaguely disappointed that Caroline was still considering this and hadn’t decided to just take her up on this proposal. Patience, she counseled herself. At least she could take comfort in the thought that Caroline would render a well-considered decision, even if Rachel didn’t like the decision. And then she mulled it over, and realized that Caroline couldn’t make a wrong decision in this, really. If she declined the offer, it would be far better than doing something she wasn’t really willing to do, like some sort of pity-fuck. Something like that would only be damaging to everyone involved, Rachel understood on instinct.

Caroline -- Part Twenty-Three

It all started quite by accident, you see. I’d been working for Allen as his executive secretary for eight or nine months, and we had a good working relationship, but neither of us associated outside the office. And then a big weekend came up for an S&M event out of town. I’d been dating a dom online for a few months, and we agreed to meet there, and so I jetted out of the office to the airport as soon as I got off work that Friday and zoomed out there. Jesus, I was so excited that I didn’t know what to think or feel on the flight up there.

So I got there, got checked into the hotel, and then we met for a very late dinner that evening. It kind of seemed like a fizzle, but I chalked it up to both of us being tired for all the traveling, and it being the end of the week, blah blah, you get the picture. Well, we went back to our separate rooms and met up the next morning for a late breakfast, and then went back to his room to do some of the things for real that we’d done online together. Well, that was a fizzle too, let me tell you. The putz came in his pants as soon as he ground his hips against me, after he’d spanked me maybe a dozen times, maybe less. And as soon as he came, he lost all interest in doing anything, and so we sat and watched TV in his room while the cum dried in his pants. Jesus, that was disgusting to have to think about, even.

Anyway, a couple hours later, he decided to stop watching Geraldo or whatever the hell was on TV, and to act like my dom again, or at least my top. Mind you, all this while, just like we’d done online, I was curled up at his feet like a favorite hunting dog or something, acting like it was still the chat-room, which honestly should’ve been a big clue to me from the start that this wasn’t going to work. Anyway, he told me to bend over the bed, and then got a cane out of one of his bags, and oh God, I could feel my heart hammering away like ninety. I’d never been caned before, and had only heard the horror stories in Victorian fiction, and in chat rooms, so I was expecting this terrible agony. It indeed did hurt pretty badly, but not as horribly as I’d been led to expect, and it was a moot point anyway because he was clumsy with it and broke it in two pieces on the fourth stroke, just as I was really being pushed. To be fair, I was really enjoying it, not so much the pain but being used as he pleased, and I was pretty disappointed when the cane snapped. I offered to go buy us a new one in the vendor area, where the party was, and sort of suggested that he perhaps whip me in public, to make a spectacle of me to a point. I think most of us like a bit of humiliation, and I was still silly enough to want to show others that I was his, I guess, to be publicly enslaved to him.

But he refused, and instead put me on all fours and just stuck it in me. I guess to him, foreplay was the four strokes with that cane before he broke it. The clown didn’t know a damn thing about women, and all I can say is thank God he did know a little something about K-Y Jelly, because that was the only wetness I got. He just lubed up and stuck it in me, and he came again in about twenty seconds, and then the sorry fucker told me to go away and went to sleep. It took that for me to realize he wasn’t a master. No, he was just a womanizer who happened to be kinky, and wasn’t even a good lay. And so, I walked out of his room, and went to the main hall where the party was, and enjoyed the show while my heart was breaking inside. It wasn’t a very good idea to go and watch all the other doms and subs having fun, though. All it did was serve to remind me that I didn’t have a dom, and might never have a dom, all the more so that I lived in such a remote corner of the world as Tres Cruces. And so I made a decision that ultimately changed the rest of my life, believe it or not. I decided to go get drunk, and I mean I had it in mind to get so utterly polluted that I’d still be hung over when I got back to the office on Monday.

As it turned out, Allen had been on another server and had an online submissive. They’d planned to meet there, just like I met with old what’s-his-name. He’d paid for her airplane ticket, and reserved a room for her at the hotel, adjacent to his, but to give her privacy in case things didn’t go well. In short, he paid for everything so that she could come be with him, and see about maybe making a life together eventually. The sorry little bitch stood him up. He’d called her when she didn’t arrive at the airport and she said she just couldn’t do it, she was scared, whining all the way. He told her she would never betray his trust again, and then made a beeline to the bar, where he was already pretty maudlin and drunk when I got there.

And so he was drunk enough to talk to me, and before long, I got drunk enough to tell him my story too. Our tales were different, but close enough that we made decent mutual support for one another. God knows we were both astounded to meet each other there, and I think it’s the first time he ever saw me as more than just the somewhat pretty woman who typed his letters and schlepped coffee for him. To be honest, I always thought he was kind of handsome, but forbidden fruit, so to speak, so it was the first time I’d ever seen him as anything but my boss.

And so we drank until we closed the bar, and staggered back up to our rooms, blind-drunk. I invited him into my room and he came in, and we had a nightcap from a bottle I’d brought with me, and that’s the last thing I remember. I passed out on booze for the first and last time in my life. I don’t know if he passed out or not, but when I woke that Sunday at ten, he was sleeping in one of those terribly uncomfortable chairs they give you in hotel rooms. It took me a while to figure out why he was there, and exactly where I was. I’m afraid I was still half-drunk on all the booze I’d had the night before, and was in too much of a hurry to get into the bathroom to … well, I was in worse shape that morning than you were this morning, Caroline. Unfortunately, I also wet myself while I was vomiting, and just as Allen came in to check on me. It was humiliating, just mortifying, as I heard him clear his throat while the urine soaked through my pants. As it sunk in that he’d just seen me wet my pants like a little girl in potty training, I started crying. I wished I could slither under the tiles in that bathroom and slide out of there and never return. But I couldn’t, and I was so grateful that he walked out of there, and let me have a bit of privacy. He was back in a minute and passed a change of clothes to me from my dresser. Didn’t even look inside, and it didn’t dawn on me that he probably had to take a pretty huge leak too. I made a hurry of ducking into the shower and cleaning myself, feeling just rotten all the while, and I’m afraid I was in there a while, maybe a whole half-hour in the steam.

Allen was so sweet. He called up room service for breakfast and coffee, and didn’t poke in on my privacy. God knows how he held his bladder that long before I poked my head out of the bathroom. I’m ashamed to say that I’d really been hoping he would’ve left, and I’m very glad to say now that he stayed. He looked like hell too, Caroline, and you know how dapper he usually is. His clothes were mussed and wrinkled, he looked grizzled and shaggy. And he quick-stepped into the bathroom the second I cleared the door. Even as rotten and embarrassed as I felt, that cracked me up to see him in distress at all. He shut the door behind him, but I could hear through the door, and it sounded like he peed ten gallons, and then I giggled again when he loosed a very relieved sigh about midway through pissing. He came back out looking no better, really. His eyes were bloodshot. In short, he looked like I felt, Caroline, and in a way that made me feel better. I mean, at least I wasn’t the only one who crawled into a bottle and showed my ass that night.

We both picked at our breakfast. I’m afraid we were both feeling pretty queasy. We didn’t talk much, and I was starting to wonder if that pub-crawl with Allen was the last hurrah of my career at TCBS, and if that wouldn’t be for the best anyway. Obviously, we’d never quite be the same at the office. We’d seen one another without or masks, Caroline. We’d been emotionally naked together, and then I wet my pants in his presence. I mean, how were we going to go back to the work relationship we’d had before then? I knew I’d have to worry about that later, though. I felt too rotten to worry about much of anything but surviving the day, at the moment.

So after we finished eating, Allen asked if I’d like to come to his room so he could get cleaned up, and then we could go back to the party together. He wanted to shop around in the vendor area and watch a few scenes. I looked him over and took pity on him, and knew there was no way he’d want to be caught dead looking like he did right then, so I offered to go bring his suitcase back here if he wanted to just use my shower. For the first time since I’d known him, he looked grateful to me, that I was sparing him some undue embarrassment, and he handed me his key and I went to his room. In a way, I wonder if that wasn’t maybe my very first act as his submissive. It was certainly the first time I’d ever done him a personal service. He was very good at work about never sending me out to do his dry cleaning or shopping, like so many bosses do to their secretaries.

So we went to the party together, and in spite of some nasty hangovers, we had a great time. We laughed, made jokes, hell, we even held hands for a little while as we walked about the place. I even surprised myself by taking his hand and putting it on my butt, to let him know I was at least willing to play. I think that caught him off-guard, but he didn’t remove his hand very quickly. He whispered in my ear that he didn’t want me biting off more than I could chew, and I’m afraid I played the slut, telling him I never bit, and swallowed it whole very nicely, thank you very much. I think I caught him off his guard. I surely shocked myself, but as we’d spent the day together, I was coming to find that I really did like him, and was attracted to him as a man, and who knows, maybe as a dom. By then, I’d more or less convinced myself somehow that he would just transfer me to the secretarial pool or something. Don’t ask why I’d come to that conclusion, because he did nothing to lead me to that conclusion. Anyway, we went and had lunch in a quiet spot, and while we ate, we negotiated a scene in the dungeon area.

Caroline, I’d had dominant and submissive fantasies since I was fifteen, and had never gotten the guts until I found the Internet to explore those fantasies any deeper. I’d never asked a boyfriend to spank me, much less tie me up and really lower the boom on me. The last time I’d been spanked was when my mother caught me smoking and wore me out with a switch when I was twelve, and that certainly wasn’t a turn-on for me, but when I started developing my sexuality, that was the dark desire I wanted to fulfill, and I could hear my heart hammering in my ears while Allen and I negotiated things over lunch. We’d agreed that he’d tie me to a spanking bench, then spank me with his hand, and paddle me, and use a strap on me that he was going to buy from one of the vendors. I surprised myself by agreeing to take one dozen of his best with the strap as the finale to the scene, and told him I wouldn’t use a safeword for that part of it. He didn’t ask that of me, Caroline. I gave it to him. I wanted to know what it would be like to have no control over my fate, to be taken rather than just offering myself. We talked about that for a moment, and I surprised myself by telling him exactly these things I’m telling you right now. He was reluctant, since I was really brand-new to this, but he agreed, and I asked him again to give me no mercy on those last dozen, to just tap me on the small of my back with his fingers to let me know the time had come. He agreed. I didn’t know then just what a sadist he could be when a woman gained his attentions.

So we went back to the vendor area, and he bought a really evil strap, broad and heavy black leather, with a really nice wooden handle out of some kind of exotic wood. I think he called it cocobolo or something like that. Allen swears it grows in some parts of Mexico, but I haven’t seen it on his ranch there, anyhow. Anyway, I was on shaking knees by then, but I don’t think I could have wanted anything more than what we’d planned to do, no matter how mild it was by comparison to other things we’d seen going on in there. A friend of mine online used to love telling people that it’s only kinky the first time, but it was my first time, so I was thinking it was going to be pretty damned kinky. And I hadn’t been naked in a public forum before, and was glad that my body wasn’t likely to cause vomiting far and wide, but surely wishing all of a sudden that I’d spent much more time in the gym toning up, doing sit-ups and maybe swimming, just to try to look like a magazine model.

Anyway, we found a spanking bench, and I’d barely started removing my shoes when a crowd started forming in a circle around us. So by the time I was all the way naked, there were maybe thirty people circling our area, and a dungeon master there to keep things under control. Jesus, wasn’t he a scary looking specimen! This guy, Caroline, he was nearly seven feet tall, and looked like he could’ve crushed those guys from the barbecue place with one hand tied behind his back. But he never said a word, and I noticed that he didn’t look at me below the eyes, and looked me right in the eye and gave me a slight smile that encouraged me. I somehow knew that between him and Allen, I had no worries about my safety. And, to be honest, it was very darkly exciting to know that I might just be fantasy fuel for some of these peoples’ masturbation fantasies. Heady stuff, wouldn’t you agree?

So anyway, Allen had brought his toy bag with him, and had a few things in there that he was going to use on his online girl before she stood him up. Most of it was brand-new, even, and I thought it was kind of sad, but at the same time I was thrilled that I’d be the first girl he’d use with those toys. He put really nice cuffs on me, the same ones that are in the dungeon at my house now, in fact, and used some rope to tie me off to the rings on the spanking bench. I don’t think I’d ever been that aroused and excited before in my life, Caroline. I wanted it all, and I wanted it right now.

I have to say that Allen was far more patient and controlled than the schmuck I’d been with the night before, and I was glad that the cane stripes I’d gotten from that asswipe had mostly healed. He started spanking me, and took his sweet time with it, just enough to sting at first, slowly heating … well, he heated lots more than just my butt, although that was the only part of me he touched with his hand. I never asked him how long he spanked me, but I’d have to guess it was fifteen or maybe twenty minutes. By the time he’d finished with his hand, I can’t guess how many spanks I’d had, but he was whacking me full-power for a long time before he stopped, and I was loving every bit of it! After a while, I felt a bit detached, like I was watching the spanking right along with the crowd, but still able to feel Rachel’s pain, which was delicious. Of course, I know now that I was a bit spacey at the moment, and I’d heard of subspace, but I’d never felt it before then, of course. It’s addicting, Caroline. Oh, my God, I love when Allen sends me there.

The paddle, I’m sorry to say, brought me right back into my body though. There’s no give to one of them, only pain. I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t as sensuous to me as him using his hand to spank me. He started out medium-hard with it since I was already very much warmed up for the event, and whacked me maybe two dozen times. I know my butt was hotter than hell and starting to go numb in that few minutes that he paddled me, but I was still loving every minute of it. It honestly exceeded my fantasies, Caroline. You’ve been there before, I’m sure you can understand what I mean by that. And then he set the paddle aside, and out came the strap he’d just bought, and he gave me a few loud smacks with it while I moaned. Jesus, if he’d touched me between my legs right then, I’d have came to death, I think. I was that aroused and rattled. And then I felt him lightly tapping and stroking the small of my back, and I said to him, “I’m ready, Master.” He really let me have it. Twelve lashes with all of his might, and I was screeching and fighting the bonds, but I wouldn’t call red. I was too prideful, too much up on my honor, and more especially, Allen was my first, and there was no way in this world I wanted to disappoint him. And you know what? I don’t regret it for a second, Caroline.

After those twelve were done, he was so gentle with me that I couldn’t believe it. He undid the ropes and helped me up, then led me to a sofa that was nearby, and just held me while I drifted about and returned to the world. He’d kissed my forehead, and stroked my hair, but he didn’t touch me sexually, although I could easily see the lump straining at his zipper, and that excited me too, Caroline. I was a wanton woman and I was a-wantin’ Allen. I was so excited that it didn’t matter to me that I was still naked as birth, or that we still had something of an audience surrounding us, and I wasn’t even upset that there was one wanker there in a trench coat and nothing else, jacking off into a paper towel while he ogled us.

It took a while, but I was finally more or less on an even keel after a half hour of him holding me and cuddling me, and I got dressed very reluctantly – I loved being so utterly naked and powerless, I found out – and went with Allen back to his room with the world’s goofiest grin pasted to my face. I was still halfway in space, mind you, and as soon as we got into his room, I came onto him. I dove straight for his zipper and stuck my hand right on in before he put a stop to it. He sat me down on the edge of his bed, and sat beside me, and I was crushed. He didn’t want me!

But he did want me, he told me. But he wanted me when I wasn’t halfway in space, and knew what I was getting into, and wouldn’t take me to bed just for a quickie that I might come to regret in the cold light of day. My mind knew he was right, but it didn’t want to listen to my heart and the rest of my body, because I wanted him to strip me and use me, Caroline. I wanted Allen to molest me, to fuck me half to death right then. But I’ve learned since that sometimes a wise dom doesn’t do what you want, but what you need, and in this case, he sensed I needed to be in a place where I could make a more informed decision. He was right, looking back, but in some ways I still wish he’d thrown caution to the winds and taken me right then and there. But that can’t be gotten back. He tucked me into his bed, still in my clothes, and let me nap for a while, an hour or so, I guess. When I woke up, there was more room service. He’d ordered up seafood platters for both of us, and it was a very good meal. I offered to pay for mine, as well as the breakfast, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

As things turned out, we were on the same plane back to San Antonio, although he was flying his own plane – he has a little Cessna for getting around Texas – back to Tres Cruces. So we shared a taxi back to the airport that evening. He was in first class and offered to upgrade me from coach, but I refused. I didn’t think it was right to take that kind of advantage of his good nature. It would’ve made me feel like I turned a trick with him or something, and that would’ve cheapened it all, taken away all its real meaning from me. He kept trying, and then finally told me he just didn’t want to ride home alone when there was someone he knew and liked who’d be on the same plane, so I gave in. We refused the champagne on the flight home, but both drank a couple Cokes, and just lightly talked to one another, just the getting-to-know-you stuff that had gotten overlooked while we were doing that scene in the big dungeon and what-not. Anyway, as the plane was touching down, he invited me out for a late dinner at IHOP, and I took him up on it, but told him I was paying this time, and he reluctantly agreed to that. When we got on the ground, he made a couple calls and found someone who’d fly his plane back to Tres Cruces, and then rode with me in my car back to the IHOP. I was ashamed to let him ride in my car, but there wasn’t a choice offered, really. It was an utter piece of shit back then, a worn-out Taurus that had long since stopped being even as nice as that little crappy Honda you drive. But he just hopped right in and never said a word about the car, which surely testified to my financial condition.

So we had a late breakfast at midnight, and I was glad he and I were about the only people in the place, and that it wasn’t full of drunks from the bars who didn’t want to go home just yet. I always thought there was something a bit sad and maybe even pathetic about that. We talked more just about ourselves and what-all, and then on the way back to his house so I could drop him off, we started talking about our tastes in BDSM, just a little bit of a round-robin where we’d ask questions and volunteer little bits of ourselves. It seemed that we were a decent match, although I was inexperienced but for the spanking he’d given me earlier that day, and he was rusty, by his own admission. He’d had a submissive a few years before, but it didn’t work out, and he was like me, out of options living in such a rural place, all the more so that he’s pretty well-known as a local businessman, which was why we went out of town so far for an event.

By the time I got him home, we were both yawning hugely and exhausted, so I knew nothing was going to happen that night, unless he got a sudden burst of horny going on. I would’ve been more than willing, mind you, but I sensed that he wanted it to happen, if it happened, when the time was right and we were both one-hundred-percent up for it. But he did give me a very sweet and tender kiss before he got out of the car, and then told me he’d want to spend more time with me out of the office, although any mention of this at the office was strictly off-limits. I was only happy to keep my private life out of the gossip mill there, so that was no problem.

Anyway, we were swamped that week at the office. He had me working until eight every night, and he was usually there till eleven or midnight, so there was no chance for us to pursue things. He even had me come in on Saturday and work until nine that night, the slave driver! But he told me by five that Saturday that we’d be off on Sunday. Allen doesn’t so much think in terms of blue laws and religion and taking off on the Sabbath day, but he knows that old saying about all work and no play, and he knows that people need a day or two out of the office to recharge the batteries. Anyway, as I was shutting down my computer before leaving, he called me into his office. We were the only two people left in the building, and I guess that made it close enough to being “out of the office,” so to speak.

He asked me straight up if our last weekend had been on my mind at all, and I told him honestly that outside work, I’d thought of nothing else that whole week, but had more or less resigned myself to the fact that it was a one night stand, since not a peep had come from him in the time since, not even an email or a late-night phone call to flirt some with me. But he told me he’d had his reasons, and it made sense. For one, he wanted to give me some space and not crowd me, and certainly not make me feel pressured or coerced into anything I really didn’t want. He also said he himself needed some time to think things through, and he’d also just been worn out by the hours that week. To be fair, he’d worked one hell of a lot more than anyone in the office, and he looked weary. But he asked me out to a late supper, once more at IHOP – it amazes me how even someone with his money just loves that place – and I was only happy to accept.

I followed him there, and we just lightly chit-chatted, since there was a crowd there either coming from the bars or headed there, one or the other. It’s not far from that place out there called Second Chance’s, that big beer joint, and just a couple miles from where Allen lives, and so we went out there after supper, and he treated me to a beer and then trounced me shooting pool five games running before some drunken twit slammed her fifty cents on the table and challenged the winner. Jesus, what was her name? Diella something or other, pronounced it dee-ella, as I recollect. She was drunker than Old Cooter Brown, loud, obnoxious, and insisting on shooting a game of pool against Allen. He tipped me a wink, and then threw the game. He intentionally shot the 8-ball into the corner pocket on his first turn, then told Diella that we needed to get going. She got kind of ugly and obnoxious, but he just smiled and led me out of there. Frankly, it amazed me that anyone could get that drunk on just the beer they serve up at that place, but then, she was a pixie-like little thing, so who knows.

We arranged for me to follow him to his place, and when we got there, he invited me in, of course. His house is a nice one – I think I told you he’s going to build a new one soon – out on maybe six or seven acres. Anyway, I went in and he poured me a Coke, and we sat and talked, and I told him I wanted to be used, taken, to know what it was to be treated like property, even if only for a night. I won’t tell you everything we’ve ever done, Caroline, since he might do some of those things to you sooner or later, and a surprise is always a good thing, I think.

So we negotiated things, just like you hear all the websites and books advising you to do, and before I knew it, he’d torn my blouse off and dragged me out in his back yard by my hair while I staggered after him, and then he tied me to a post in the ground out there. The post had brand-new ropes on it already, and Allen hadn’t been out of my sight that whole day. He had me tied to that post in seconds, and before I knew it, I felt some seriously cold steel slipped into my pants, and then he sliced them off of me like they were just spider webs. I was trembling out there, and wondering if I hadn’t just bitten off more than I could chew when the whole yard lit up all of a sudden. It was almost like a ball park out there, and even though I knew we were in the middle of nowhere, I was suddenly nervous like that proverbial long-tailed cat. I’m glad it was a warm night, at least, but then you know how summer is here, right?

So there I was naked, tied up to a post in his back yard under white lights as bright as the sun, and then up he comes with a whip and a package of clothespins, and I knew I was in for a hell of a night! Well, it wasn’t really a whip, like a bullwhip. It was a quirt, but I didn’t quite know the difference. Bullwhips hurt worse, I found out some months later, but the quirt is still damned impressive. But he didn’t start with the quirt at first, although he put a few clothespins on me, starting with a couple on my nipples. Did you ever notice how those don’t really start hurting until they get removed, and the pain just gets so intense that it takes your breath away? Aah. Anyway, I digress some.

He started in on spanking me then, but this time, he didn’t confine himself to my ass alone. He spanked pretty much everything from my lower thighs to my shoulders, and only skipped over my lower back so he didn’t do any accidental kidney damage. Allen is mean and sadistic when he plays, and I love that to be honest, but he’s never once endangered me, Caroline, and he’s never done anything that either of us saw as excessively risky. But it was a whole new experience having my shoulders spanked, to say nothing of him reaching around and spanking the sides of my chest and my breasts. He made me gasp a few times, I can tell you, but every time he got me close to my limit, he seemed to know it, and stopped and caressed me, letting me regather myself. But every time the spanks started again, they were a bit harder and went a bit longer, and it didn’t take long until I started to feel my mind slipping its moorings.

But Allen didn’t want me going to space just then, and the next thing I knew, I felt a deep burn crossing my thighs and yelped out quite nicely, and I got a bit angry to hear him just chuckling as he lashed me again with that quirt. But even with the anger, I was still too turned on to let it get to me, Caroline. He played me like he was Jerry Lee Lewis and I was a grand piano at the Grand Ole Opry! In short, he took maybe an hour and a half out there, spanking me, whipping me, caressing me, kissing me, just playing me, turning me into this quivering puddle only being held up by bones. And then he decided I needed to cum, and I felt his fingers toying with me while he started putting a hickey on the back of my neck, marking me as his, he whispered. I wanted nothing more right then than to be his, and right then, I was all his, Caroline.

He knew just what to do to my clitoris. He knew just how much pressure to apply, just how to work me, to bring me right to the brink and then let it fall off some, until I wanted to cum more than I wanted to breathe, even. He had me shivering, whimpering, hell, I even cried like a baby one time when he had me right to the brink and then backed off again. It was like he was building a charge, filling the lake all the way before letting the dam burst. And believe me, he burst that dam very skillfully. Caroline, I screamed so loud I think you could’ve heard me a half-mile away, and then I nearly fainted. I was just rubber when it finally ended, panting and gasping like a beached fish. And then, he cut me down from the post, sore and whip-marked and in a post-orgasmic haze, and he had me. There was no tenderness, no affection. Caroline, for the first time in my life – seems there are a lot of firsts here, hey? – I was used, taken by a man for his own pleasing.
Goddamn, it was powerful. He just put me on all fours there in the dirt, gapped my legs some, and took me. I was so exhausted already that I couldn’t hold my head up, and my face just dragged in the dirt, so that it was sticking to my sweaty skin. It was a bit humiliating, but that was good for me. It put me in my place, if you can understand that, and I’m betting you understand it perfectly. He lasted a few minutes, his hips pounding into my ass while he plundered me, and then had a pretty big cum. Jesus H. Christ, it was messy, and, of course, I hadn’t learned the benefits of shaving so that I’d be easier to clean afterwards, not that he offered me the option right off. I slumped naked in the dirt, on my belly, filthy and gritty, and it still hadn’t even sunk in with me that he’d slashed every stitch of clothing from my body.

So I laid there in the dirt for a while, trying to regain my senses as my sweat dried with the dirt on my body and his seed dried to a sticky mess in my pubic hair, dimly aware that he was laying beside me, stroking my sweat-matted hair and smiling at me. I was filthy, grungy, still wallowing in the filth like a pig, and I even loved it, because this man who was my master for that hour in time had put me there in that condition.

After a while, I came to my senses and he helped me to my feet. He has a big barn out behind his place that hides a swimming pool with a spa, and even has a sauna built into it, along with a huge shower. He led me in the shower and we spent a long time cleaning each other off, and that wasn’t quite erotic since we’d already had some intensive sex, but it was very intimate and relaxing. He made me feel safe, and he made me feel attractive and desired. In short, he made me feel like a protected submissive for the first time ever. But I knew it couldn’t last. I had to get home. I had a cat and a dog that needed to be fed and dealt with, and it wasn’t until then that I realized everything I’d worn over there was in tatters and beyond mending, far beyond it.

I was rather horrified and blushing deep red when all these things occurred to me, and gingerly brought up the subject with Allen. He told me he obviously didn’t have any of my clothes at his house, and that perhaps driving home naked would be good for me, to remind me of my place, and would also encourage me to be careful so I didn’t get the attention of the cops on patrol. Jesus H. Christ, I blushed red like a fresh cooked lobster, and stammered around for a moment while he just looked at me blankly, and then he spoke up again, and asked me, “Who said you could leave, anyway?”

Holy smokes, I about creamed myself again when he said that. It never occurred to me that I’d be … well … detained there. God, it was great to have even that freedom robbed of me, Caroline. I didn’t know how badly I needed something like that, to be jerked into place, to be enslaved, even if only for a brief time. And he did it without any effort or thought, which I think really got under my skin in a big way. He wasn’t posturing or pretending to be a dom or my master. It was just natural to him. It was just Allen in his own skin, if that makes sense. I think that was probably the first real step to my becoming his slave, Caroline. He just took control of me as easily as though we were both born for it.

He made me sleep on the floor in his bedroom that night, naked as birth, although he let me have a quilt to keep warm. The next morning, he shook me awake and sent me downstairs to cook breakfast for both of us, but then he did something else kinky, that surprised me, but I kind of liked it anyway. I had to stand there naked while he ate his breakfast, looking at my own plate, and once he was done, I had to take his plate to the kitchen before returning to the dining room to eat. But I had to bend over the table and could only take a forkful of food when he allowed it, which was to say, when he gave me a stinging lash with a riding crop he retrieved from a hook on his living room wall. I was really wishing I hadn’t woken so hungry and scrambled three eggs for myself, because it was hell having to take a lash every time I was allowed a mouthful of food, and worse still that he told me I’d have to clean my entire plate. So it was a big breakfast, and he made it last a while, thirty or so minutes, I guess. And I fucking loved being taken under so much of his control, pardon my French.

But sooner or later, breakfast was done, and so was the cropping. We spent a couple hours just talking, me still buckytailed naked and him in his jeans and a western shirt, just as relaxed as he could be. He wouldn’t let me use the furniture, so I had to sit or kneel on the floor, close to his feet. That was sort of like the online stuff, but not really. It was more him taking another step to put me in my place, if you can dig it. He sent me outside to get the grill going when it got close to lunch time, and I amazed myself by walking out there in broad daylight still fully naked to do his bidding. I was in that kind of head space right then, where disobeying him didn’t even occur to me. He told me to do it, and I did it, and that was that.

Of course, he lives out in the middle of nowhere, basically, so nobody was around to see it anyway on any given summer Sunday, but think on what it meant, that I was so utterly vulnerable to him, but felt safer than I had in forever or so. So he had me cook up some steaks and baked potatoes out there along with corn on the cob, and this time, he let me sit and eat my lunch with him. He smiled at me an awful lot, and I took that to mean he’d been very pleased with me and how I’d conducted myself. I thought it was awfully nice of him to give me that kind of trust too. It surprises me how many submissives never get a grasp on the fact that the trust is exchanged, and not merely given by the sub to the dominant, but I won’t go down that tangent. Anyway, it was a good lunch. He flattered me by raving about my cooking, but I know I am indeed a good cook, especially around a grill with real charcoal and wood and a real fire, and then afterwards, we watched a baseball game on TV. He even let me cuddle with him on the couch. He didn’t say way, but I didn’t think I needed to ask. He knew I was in my place, and so he could give me some privileges.
The Astros won, which put his good mood even better. He’s something of a closet fanatic about baseball, I found out, although he doesn’t seem to care about any other sports. We had sex again after the game, up in his bed, and this time he was gentle, considerate. It wasn’t as powerful as what we’d done out in the yard, but in a way, he let me inside his heart some the way he did it, just taking his time, being my lover and not a fast and furious fuck, again excusing my French. In the afternoon, he asked my sizes, and told me that the least he could do was to replace the clothes he shredded off of me with his knife, and he left me there while he ran to Wal Mart and got me a few changes of clothes, three pairs of jeans and as many blouses, along with undies and a couple bras. He spent way too much, but he told me there was a sale on, and a few casual clothes wouldn’t hurt me to have anyway. He can seem cold sometimes, and he is cold sometimes, but he also has a broad streak of decency that he doesn’t always hide so well. So I got dressed, and everything fit well, and then he took me out to supper, come to think of it, at that same barbecue place where you and I just ate.

Afterwards, we kissed goodbye and both went home, and went to work as usual that week, although he did ask me out to dinner on Wednesday of that week. He was pushing himself too hard at work to be all that horny during the week, at least at the time, and so it was a casual date for us. He was out of town that weekend on a trip somewhere or other, and didn’t get back until Thursday, but invited me out to dinner on that Thursday night, and again on Friday. We played again, and it was every bit as hot as the last time, but he had to do meetings on Saturday, so I couldn’t stay the weekend, and went home after breakfast on Saturday morning.

The next Saturday morning was what I think really changed it all, once and for all, and brought me to being Allen’s slave. I needed to go into work again, for what was thankfully the last weekend we’d have to do for a while, but I got out the door late, I’m afraid, and got in a hurry leaving my neighborhood. Well, I went screeching around a corner where I damned well knew I should’ve stopped and looked, and I ran over a puppy while the kid that loved him watched it happen. It was a poor neighborhood, Caroline, and I knew that kid and I knew he was flat busted broke poor, and that puppy was the only thing in this world he loved. The kid – his name was Billy Gomez – named the puppy Sparky, and they were all over the area playing together, and I killed the one and only thing that little boy had and loved and could call all his own. I’ll never forget the wail he let loose when he saw me crush Sparky like that. It sounded like I reached in and murdered that little boy’s soul, Caroline! I can still to this day close my eyes and hear that miserable wail. And I knew I had to be at work, and so I hurried up and scooped up Sparky and took him back to Billy’s house, told Billy I was very sorry, and hauled ass to work. I shouldn’t have bothered. All I did was make mistakes, and stupid ones. I couldn’t get Billy or Sparky off my mind. I felt like a fucking murderer. That poor puppy, and that poor little boy.

Allen finally came out around noon and told me to go home if I couldn’t do a better job than that. He said I was causing more work with my mistakes than the project itself was generating. So I left, but I just couldn’t go home, Caroline. I couldn’t risk driving by there and seeing Billy looking at the woman who killed his puppy. So I went to IHOP until I got sick to death of coffee, and then I went to Second Chance’s and had a couple beers before Diella got there and started stirring up shit, but by then it was after ten, so I figured it was safe to go home and Billy wouldn’t spot me. I got home to seven messages from Allen, and each one was a bit more irate than the last, I’m afraid. The second of them was that he’d told me to go home, and that didn’t mean for me to go gallivanting about the county and having fun, since they had questions that needed my answers sometimes. The fifth message told me I’d best call him the minute I got home if I still wanted to work at TCBS. The seventh message had come in about twenty minutes before I got home, and it was just a very annoyed “Goddammit” from him.

So I called him back, and he read me the riot act. You know, I reveled in it, Caroline. It wasn’t that I felt all that badly about being out of contact or the job, but that I was getting chewed out, yelled at, and I deserved it for Sparky and Billy. How’s that for insanity? I was more worried about a dead puppy than I was about my career, I felt so guilty. But I couldn’t get that miserable wail out of my heart, and I didn’t deserve to, because it was all my fault that I’d broken that little boy’s heart. Anyway, I answered Allen’s questions, and then he asked me what was wrong, and in a second I was blubbering so hard that he couldn’t make out a word I was saying. He told me don’t go anywhere, he was coming over, and hung up, and so I sat on my couch and just cried for perhaps a half hour, and then he knocked on the door just as I was settling down. And so I let him in and practically flooded him with tears while I hugged him and blubbered fresh and he dried to make heads or tails out of what I was trying to say.

I finally got the story straight for him, and he just held me and let me know he cared while I tried to get a handle on the guilt. Of course, it was too late right then for us to go to Billy’s, but Allen told me he wanted me to go with him the next morning to talk to the kid, to see how we could make it right for him, and as badly as I wanted to shy away from looking into that little boy’s hurt eyes, I knew I had to do that if I was ever going to move past this. And so Allen slept on my couch that night and we woke the next morning and walked over to Billy’s house. His mother answered the door and looked like she’d as soon spit on me as to look at me, but Allen sweet talked her somehow and she let us in.

She woke Billy, and he came in and glared at me, and I swear, I couldn’t even look that little boy in the eye, I was so ashamed of myself. Allen made me apologize to Billy, just like I was another nine-year-old, and then told Billy that he’d make sure I never did something like that again. I guessed what he meant, and I was amazed to find that it was lifting my spirits to know that I was going to get some sort of absolution from this. And then Allen asked Mrs. Gomez if we could take Billy up to the shelter and see about finding him a new puppy, or to a Pet Smart up in San Antonio if the shelters locally didn’t have anything. Jesus, she looked so pathetically grateful that it tore my heart up again, but she let us take Billy with us. Billy still wouldn’t talk to me, and I followed behind him and Allen back to my place, and rode in the back seat while he rode up front and Allen talked to him about baseball. Billy was also crazy for the Astros, but wasn’t in the local little league. It was pretty plain that his mom couldn’t afford the enrollment cost for that, much less to cart him back and forth to practices and games.

Well, we found the perfect little scruffy mutt puppy at the shelter over in Rio Diablo, and Allen shelled out all the money for the shots and adoption fees and all the rest. He was a cute pup, some little golden retriever mixed with God alone knew what, and that little shit bonded instantly to Billy, which did my heart and his a lot of good. He named the little guy Zippy, and I think that’s when he started to heal from losing Sparky. Allen drove us all over to Kate’s Pet and Feed, and got a collar for the puppy, and food and, well, he spent about five hundred dollars there, including a kennel much like the one he’s stuck me in a few times. Of course, the kennel wouldn’t fit in his car, but Kate Norris has always been more than happy to do deliveries. In fact, she had a young lady working for her then who’s something of a celebrity now, that reporter girl Karen Everson, deliver the kennel and dog house and four hundred pounds of Puppy Chow behind us in the delivery truck. She even brought along some tools to get the kennel and dog house set up. Billy charmed her too. He was a cute kid. He’s still a good kid. And I don’t think I got back on his good-guy list just then, but Allen sure the hell did. The kid wrapped him in a big enough hug that it whooshed the air out of him, but he hugged Billy back and told him take good care of Zippy, and then told me to get in the car. I waited while he and Billy talked a bit more, and then Allen got in the car and drove me straight to his house, and didn’t say a word the whole ride over there, while I squirmed and felt butterflies doing all kinds of stunts deep in my belly. I knew something bad was coming my way, and even if I deserved it and knew it was for my own good, that didn’t mean I was anxious to undergo whatever he had in his mind.
When we got to his house, he told me to wait for him by the whipping post, and that I may as well get naked and save the cost of another change of clothing. What could I do but say “yes, Sir” and obey him? And that’s what I did, Caroline. I went out there and got naked and stood at attention like a soldier, facing the whipping post for what seemed like nineteen lifetimes before he finally came out of the house. It seemed he’d bought a few other items at Kate’s while I was off looking at other things, avoiding Billy and still feeling like a heel.

He came out with more ropes, and a short bullwhip that still had a price-tag dangling from it, and tied me to the post very securely. Hell, he damn near mummified me from my ankles to my mid-thighs, and then cinched a padded belt to my lower back, and tied my arms off, of course. Jesus, I was a wreck by then. The waiting for him to come out was terrible, and seeing the bullwhip just outright horrified me, but I knew I deserved it, and I knew I’d need something God-awful to be done to me to move me past this guilt. He told me I’d be receiving forty lashes when he got to me, and then cracked the whip a couple times before he walked away. I yelped and I’ll be damned if I didn’t wet myself again on the spot, and just blubbered and cried, humiliated. It was a lot like your punishment, having to stand in the sun and get a bit of a burn before the beating came, so that the whip would hurt even worse. I didn’t know all that right then, of course. All I knew was that I was terrified and embarrassed that my pee was drying on my legs, and that I was sweating one hell of a lot.

I don’t know how long I stood there and cooked, and I never asked Allen. But finally, he started the whipping, and that first lash was a total surprise, and it burned like the very fires of Hell, and I screamed to the skies for God to take me that second before I had to undergo more of it. But God apparently was kind of peeved about Sparky too, and decided this was just my tough luck. I got all forty lashes, and I screamed through the first twenty-nine of them before my voice broke and I could just grunt the pain. I could feel some of my blood leaking from the lashes, but I was too stunned by the agony to realize what that was. But it only seemed to last nine eternities, so that’s all good, right? When he was done, he came to me and simply untied me, and held me while I found my legs again. And then he sent me to the showers, and told me after I was cleaned up, I could come inside the house.

You know, I had good parents before they died so young, and my daddy taught me lots of lessons that sometimes come back on me, and one of them did that day. He told me once about a conscience, and how that’s really what makes us do the right thing so consistently. He told me that everything I do in the day will be something I’ll take to my bed in the night. Boy was he right about that. The night before, I hadn’t slept two hours in total, I felt so badly about what I’d done. And so, while I carefully showered, trying to not let the spray hit my marks directly, I was yawning hugely, and then it hit me! I was tired, sleepy, because I’d forgiven myself, Caroline, and believe it or not, I was smiling all of a sudden, like a dark cloud had blown out of the path of the sun. I was exhausted, still in tremendous pain, my voice was completely blown by the screaming, and it was worth every bit of it that my spirit was unburdened, that I could forgive myself now. And so I finished the shower and very gingerly dried my back along with the rest of my body, and walked naked and proudly back into the house.

Allen had broken me out there on the whipping post. He’d delivered me more pain than I thought it was humanly possible to suffer, Caroline, but he took me to where I needed to go. I didn’t realize just exactly how profoundly he’d changed me with that whip, in fact, not right then. All I knew is that I was forgiven, and my soul felt wonderful again. And Allen had totally reversed from his coldness out there to being warm and inviting with me. He handed me a robe that was very soft, although it still stung some on my back, and let me sit with him, and he even stroked my hair. It was his cue that I could be forgiven, but somehow I’d already learned that on my own. But I cuddled up to him, yawned twice, and was sound asleep in the crook of his arm in minutes. I kind of remember him helping me up and leading me to bed, and I know that’s where I woke up the next morning while he was in the shower.
He told me that as far as he was concerned, I was out sick that day, and that if I needed to run to my house, I was free to use his pickup truck. He’d even laundered my clothes from the day before, and suggested that I perhaps bring two or three changes of clothes over there if I was going to be a routine overnighter at his place. He winked at me, and smiled some, and in that second I knew that he would be satisfied to have me there frequently, and I winked back and whispered I’d do just that. My throat was still blown from all the screeching out there on his whipping post, and that was a bit embarrassing, to only be able to whisper and croak at him. He kissed me on the cheek and left me alone there, and I got dressed and went to my house to check on some things, and then packed a bag with four changes of clothes, including a pantsuit I could wear to work if I stayed over on a work night, and went back to his house.

I did some picking up, just light housework, to keep myself occupied. I was hurting, but somehow knew that if I didn’t keep moving, my skin would tighten up and it would get worse. I’d looked in the mirror before I got dressed, and only four of five of the marks had actually bled, and I was already healing, although I was marked up pretty badly still. The welts were really nasty, but to be honest, they also looked a bit sexy to me, and I liked what they stood for, if you understand. And I took a lot of time to think while I did these mindless tasks, and I came to what for me were some earth-shattering revelations about myself. I was happy, and more importantly, I was content to be there in Allen’s house, doing little chores for him to please him.

And that led me to the big revelation, of course. I was content to be a submissive, perhaps even a slave to Allen. I needed that kind of control over me, that kind of check on my recklessness. And more importantly still, I wanted that. I swear, when that thought struck home, I just slumped to the floor with my jaw dropped open, like I’d just seen a pig flying by on eagle’s wings. What didn’t dawn on me was that Allen had already come to those conclusions, and somehow figured I’d be better off taking a day alone and discovering these things on my own.

We had a very long talk when he got home that night, and I gave my rights to him, everything, for ninety days, with no promises from either side to follow that time. When the ninety days were up, we were both still very pleased, and so I gave him another nine months, and after that, a whole year. And when that second year was up, he branded me one night there at his Mexican place, and took me as his for life. And that’s my story.

Caroline -- Part Twenty-Two

“I got your email last night after we found you were gone and freaked out some,” Rachel said. “I really wish you’d overheard the whole conversation rather than the little bit that you did, Caroline, because what you heard got taken way the hell out of context. I was in the middle of telling Master how wrong I was to be such a jealous little bitch, all the more so that I really like you, Caroline, and I think it wouldn’t take much for me to be in love with you as well. Allen has said your resignation is not going to be accepted until you can convince him that you should resign and it would be in everyone’s best interest, and you’re on your honor to him anyway, Caroline.”

“On my honor,” Caroline parroted in incredulity. “There’s the implication in this whole thing that you two would be honest and honorable with me, and yet, there you are making sounds like you’d be happy as hell if I were to disappear. So let it not be said that I’m not trying to accommodate you, Rachel. Jesus, excuse me,” she finished, darting from the room. A moment later, Rachel could hear the sounds of Caroline dry-heaving in the bathroom down the hall. She must have really hit the bottle hard, Rachel considered, remembering ruefully more than one morning in her younger years that had seen her in a similar condition.

As Caroline retched miserably in the bathroom, Rachel came to a few decisions, and made a quick call to the office, to report that she wouldn’t be in today, and for Jennifer Porter to handle the incoming calls and relate what was important via cell phone at ten and again at three. And then she called Joel’s cell phone, and told him briefly that Caroline wasn’t going to be there today, that she had called in sick to Allen last night, and Allen had asked her to pass the word to him, in case anyone wondered where she was. Joel told her he’d handle any inquiries and they rung off as Rachel heard Caroline’s toilet flushing.

Caroline reappeared in the kitchen, and took a sip of her coffee, then shuddered and gagged again, and poured the remainder down the sink. She drew a glass of ice water and sat back down at the table, still glaring at Rachel in anger and humiliation. “So why are you here,” she asked. “You said I misunderstood something, but we both speak English, and I know what I heard, Rachel.”

“And you didn’t hear me telling Master that I knew I was being stupid and wrong, and that I really liked you,” Rachel shot back. “Master was teaching us both a lesson last night with his preferences toward you. It was obviously a lesson I needed to learn.” She stood from her chair and shucked her t-shirt, then turned around to show Caroline her back, still vividly marked by her master’s caning last night. “And he made sure the lesson stuck,” she went on. “He caned me a dozen strokes after you cut and ran. I wish if you’d started eavesdropping on us, that you’d finished eavesdropping on us.”

Despite herself, Caroline was impressed, and the marks on Rachel’s back made her more willing to listen to what Rachel had to say. She doubted that Allen whipped Rachel on her account alone, after all. He didn’t seem the type to exact revenge, but instead to brutally correct misconduct on the part of a slave. “That looks like it hurt,” Caroline said, trying to keep her voice neutral.

“For me, the only thing worse is his horsewhip,” Rachel confirmed. “And the way I acted last night, I probably deserved his horsewhip. Caroline, he was proving a point to both of us last night with the extra attentions he was giving you. In part, I think he was rewarding you for your guts in asking for more lashes the way you did. It sure the hell impressed both of us, I can tell you. But what he was teaching us, what I obviously needed to have impressed on me a bit more intensively, is that we’re to be equal in his eyes so long as you’re in his service. Sometimes one of us will be the alpha girl, but more often than not, we’ll be equal slaves to him.”

“But that’s obviously not what you wanted,” Caroline said, groaning as her head started thumping more painfully and her belly twisted again with the hangover. She made up her mind to throw out all the booze so she didn’t make a fuckup like this again. Jesus, this was terrible!

“Caroline, I forgot my place, and Allen needed to remind me of my place,” Rachel said. “My place is as his slave, serving him however it pleases him, and not getting above my station. I need some humility, and perhaps even some humiliation, and he gave me a little dose of that last night, and it was good for me. To be honest, I came over here last night feeling more enslaved to him than I have in six months. You’re something of a challenge to me in a way, because you sometimes show me how a slave really should act. Your attitude, believe it or not, is far better than mine insofar as striving to please our master. That’s right, I said ‘our master’ and not mine or yours, because we both share him, and I think he’s starting to love you, and I know I’m starting to love you, and we may be an item for the rest of all three of our lives.”

“Jesus,” Caroline said, suddenly fighting a new kind of tears, and feeling more the fool and disgusted with herself than anything else. She’d so long craved this kind of acceptance, this kind of love, and had again come an eyeblink from losing it. She was loathing herself, and wondering if she even deserved to be a part of this three-way affair. And then she cried out loud, wailing in pain and love and a hundred other emotions stewing in her heart.

“It’s all okay,” Rachel said, suddenly on her knees before Caroline’s chair, taking her gently into her arms while Caroline sobbed, letting all the emotions run free. Caroline cried a while, perhaps five or six minutes, while Rachel held her and soothed her, doing her best to ignore the pain in her knees from the hard concrete floor, not really padded by the worn linoleum covering it. In time, the storm of tears passed, as they always must, and in that amount of time, Rachel’s mind was racing in unexpected directions while she wondered if she was losing her mind, or finding it.

“I’m sorry I’m being such an idiot,” Caroline said, ashamedly.

“You’re not being an idiot,” Rachel said in a kind tone, groaning as she came to her feet. She put her t-shirt back on, then looked at Caroline. “I already called you in today, and I’m not going into the office either. I think we both need something of a mental health day here, honey. Go get dressed. We’re going to take care of your Beamer, and then you’re going to be staying with me, at my place.”

“Are you sure,” Caroline asked.

“I asked Master specifically, before we found out you’d run away, if you could stay with me while he’s gone,” Rachel confirmed. “Now, get moving before I call him up and tell him I think I need to whip you to get you moving.” She grinned with this last remark, but Caroline somehow knew Rachel wasn’t bluffing.

“I want to take a shower first and see if it’ll kill off some of this hangover,” Caroline said, still ashamed that she had turned to the bottle in her hour of crisis.

“How much did you have,” Rachel asked.

“That much,” Caroline said, pointing to the bourbon bottle still on the counter. “It was a brand-new bottle last night.” Rachel whistled a low sound as she looked at the bottle, which was just about half-gone now.

“Damn, no wonder you’re suffering today,” she said, smiling without humor. “Go get cleaned up and dressed. I’ll wait.” Rachel began doing some light cleaning in Caroline’s kitchen while she heard the shower running, just putting dishes from the dishwasher into the cupboards and wiping down the counters. Just as she was finishing up, her cell phone rang. It was Allen.

“What’s going on with Caroline,” he asked without preamble.

“I think I have her settled down some,” Rachel said. “She’s taking a shower now, and we’re both taking a day off to do some girl stuff.”

“Why don’t y’all go make arrangements for her car too,” Allen said. “You have access to the accounts, so there’s no reason she can’t be in a new car this afternoon, is there?”

“Not any reason that comes to my mind,” Rachel said. “Actually, we were going to go and place the order today anyway, but I can handle purchasing it as well. Should be zero problem.”

“Good girl,” Allen said, sounding pleased with her. “We’re somewhere over Dallas now, and I don’t want to stay on the phone very long, so I’m about to let you go.”

“One thing, real quickly, Master,” Rachel said, and then shared the thoughts she’d been having while she had been holding the weeping Caroline moments before. She talked about two minutes, laying out everything in narrow detail. Allen was silent for a long moment that followed, surprised very much by what Rachel had brought to the table just now. He’d long since been a very difficult man to surprise, and even as he pondered her thoughts, he was amused that she’d shocked him so.

“Approved,” Allen said. “And if Caroline needs my confirmation, have her feel free to call me later this afternoon and I’ll be happy to tell her the same thing. But you’re stuck like Chuck now, Rachel. This isn’t something you’ve thought of doing, but something that you will indeed do. Are we clear on that, honey?”

“Yes, Master,” Rachel said, feeling her heart lurching a little bit, but a greater sense of peace overcoming her. Deep inside, she sensed that she was doing the right thing in her plans, no matter that she would just as soon have not had to say what she’d said to her master. They said their love-you stuff and hung up, and a couple minutes later, as Rachel was finishing a second cup of coffee, Caroline returned, looking far better for some time in a hot shower and more time spent prettying herself up. Her hair positively glowed like fresh rose gold in the sunlight pouring through the window, and she was dressed to kill in a jacket-and-skirt combination, jet black with a black silk blouse, that Rachel remembered had alone gobbled up a goodly chunk of the clothing budget they’d had for their recent shopping excursion. Indeed, seeing Caroline looking so good made Rachel feel like a truck-stop blowjob girl, and she decided that it would be wisest if they started by running to her house so she could get showered and dressed up as well. A moment later, they were off, running back to Rachel’s house in her Buick, where Rachel hurriedly did the best she could to try to look as good as Caroline had managed to do. Rachel personally thought Caroline was far prettier than she, and that the redhead looked far less forbidding and cute than Rachel could ever manage to do at her height, and with the more or less severe clothing that filled her own personal wardrobe. It might have surprised her to learn that Caroline had similar feelings, positive that Rachel was the more appealing of them, and that she herself was the ugly duckling of this little relationship they were striving to build. In truth, most people would see both of them as very attractive in different ways, albeit certainly not magazine models. They were two pretty women in their thirties, attractive enough to have no trouble getting the attentions of unattached men.

They stopped at an IHOP and had a late breakfast, since Caroline was suddenly hungry as her hangover abated some. They ate basic bacon-and-egg breakfasts with orange juice and coffee, and the meal made Caroline feel much better and stronger to face the day, and whatever awaited her. They both got coffee to go, and then sped off toward the BMW dealer, where Rachel shocked Caroline by writing a purchase order on the spot for the nicest blue 760 on the lot. “I didn’t think it worked this way,” Caroline said.

“Usually, I fax it over to them and the car gets delivered the next day, but Allen said just buy the thing before you waffle again,” Rachel said, smiling.

“Ma’am,” the salesperson said to Caroline with a broad grin. “Your car should be through the detail shop in thirty minutes. I’m sorry it took so long, but the gas station was running slow. Can I get either of you ladies a cup of coffee?” They both shook their heads, and just quietly sat watching the television in the customer lounge for a while until a porter came in and handed Caroline her keys. She’d already gone through the whole delivery process, and had the owners’ manual in hand, and was ready to go as soon as she got the key.

“Meet me back at my house,” Rachel said. “And then let’s take this puppy out and see how it runs.”

On the drive back to Rachel’s house, Caroline’s cell phone rang. It was Allen, she saw on the caller ID as she answered it.

“Did Rachel talk some sense into you this morning,” he asked.

“Yes, she did, Master,” Caroline said. “And I’m sorry I acted so childishly, Sir.”

“We’ll deal with that later on,” Allen said in a friendly enough voice. “Did you make your way to the BMW lot yet?”

“Yes, Sir,” Caroline said, smiling. “I’m driving it now. Rachel got all the purchasing stuff done on the spot, and I’m following her home in it.”

“Outstanding,” Allen said. “And right on time too.”

“How do you mean, Sir,” Caroline asked.

“I want you to take a long weekend, because you’re likely to spend the next two weeks jumping like a cat on a griddle,” Allen told her. “I’m going to make you the go-to-girl on the Fletcher account.”

“The Fletcher account,” Caroline parroted, a bit confused after coming up empty remembering what account that was. It rang no bells at all in her mind. “I don’t think I know that one, Sir.”

“Oh, you probably know it as the Cuervo Rojo Mall account,” Allen informed her. “Bill Fletcher owns it, and he’s probably going to work you half to death on all kinds of odds and ends getting things smoothed out.”

“Wow,” Caroline answered, feeling a flurry of butterflies erupting in flight in her belly. “That’s a huge account, Sir. Are you sure you want me on it?”

“I think you and Bill will like each other,” Allen said. “And you’ll find he’s a pretty good guy, and it’s easy to get along with him. And it might parlay into something bigger and better in time. Besides, it’s time you started earning your keep on the A-Team, and I think you’re more than ready for the challenge to it, Caroline. Once you get to the office Monday, I want you to bring up the account on your computer, and get to know it better than the back of your hand, and then we’ll go out and I’ll introduce you to Bill. He’ll let you know everything he needs, and you’ll be in charge of making it all happen. And yes, you’ll be paid quite well for your efforts on his account, Caroline. I think the manuals covered all of that, but if you keep Bill happy, you can count on making more money in the next two years than you’ve made your entire life put together.” Caroline was silent a long moment, indeed remembering quite well what the pay plan was on new accounts. In short, she’d be paid two percent of the billing on anything new for the first year, and so long as the contracts were renewed and she was the person in charge, she’d get one percent annually for managing the account on that mall. She recalled skimming over the information in the folder on the mall, and remembered that there was a projected first-year billing of some ten million dollars, and follow-on billing of a projected two million annually to follow. Jesus H. Christ. Allen had just handed her a two hundred thousand dollar payday if she didn’t fuck up. Fucking up didn’t bear contemplation.

“Are you still there,” Allen said, sounding amused more than annoyed. “Earth to Caroline!”

“Yes, Sir, I’m here,” Caroline said, jarred from her greedy reverie. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Is there a problem,” he asked.

“No, Sir,” she answered. “I’m just amazed that you’re giving me this big of an account to handle, Master.”

“Welcome to the bigs, kid,” he said, and chuckled. “Try not to scratch your crotch too much on the pitcher’s mound, okay?”

“Yes, Sir,” Caroline said, then burst into laughter at the unexpected crudity. “I’ll certainly keep that in mind.”

“Well, now that we’ve handled office business, I want to bring up something far more personal,” he said. “Caroline and I had a lengthy discussion this morning while you were getting cleaned up and ready to go out today. I’m not where I can lay out the details to you, but she’s going to give you the benefit of her thinking later today. You will not encourage her to lay things out for you, but if she doesn’t surprise you with a proposition by five o’clock today, you will call me and report that to me. What she has to propose to you has my full approval, and while I’m not ordering you to take her up on her proposition, I think you should do it. Okay?”

“Yes, Sir,” Caroline said, baffled. “Should I call you either way, Sir?”

“Yes,” Allen said. “I think what she has in mind will be beneficial, but since I’m absent, I’m going to have to trust your best judgement if you think this is something you can’t quite handle, okay?”

“Yes, Master,” Caroline said, wondering whatever in the world Rachel had cooked up, and whether it would be a good or a bad thing in the long run. But she figured there was little sense in pestering Allen for answers, and he’d ordered her to not pry with Rachel, so she’d just have to see what came to pass when it did. “I’ll keep that in mind, Sir, whatever’s going on.”

“I’ll look forward to your call,” Allen said. “Have a great day of it, Caroline.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she said, and hung up, following Rachel’s Buick and feeling a huge sense of curiosity that she knew she’d have to stifle before they got back to her house. Meanwhile, Caroline got lost in the joy of driving such a fine machine as the BMW, and it was indeed the carrot that went with her stick, her incentive to continued success. They got to Rachel’s house, and Rachel merely parked her Buick and then got in the passenger seat of the BMW, and they were down the road, enjoying the open interstate laid out before them. Having nowhere else to go, they drove down the highway to Cuervo Rojo County, and stopped at a café’ for some barbecue.

They ate a wonderful meal and then had a couple beers, just relaxing, when a pair of men casually took chairs at their table, introducing themselves as Don and Chuck, and then beginning to flirt outrageously, albeit in a surprisingly gentlemanly and humorous fashion. Caroline was flattered by the attention, honestly, and thought that Don was a very sexy guy, actually. He was tall, well over six feet, and built like a circus strongman but for his bushy beard and longish hair. His hands were huge, and rough, silently testifying to a long life of hard physical labor. But he didn’t talk like most would think he would. He spoke in a soft voice, and intelligently, and his conduct was refreshingly that of a gentleman, and if Caroline wasn’t so nuts about Allen and Rachel, she’d have definitely made it plain to Don that she was on the market. But as it was, she was off the market, at least for the time being, although she still felt a bit uneasy about where things were going to go with Allen and Rachel. But it was still a very good stoke to her ego to have such a sexy man making in plain that she had his interest. Caroline could see that Rachel, however, wasn’t nearly so charmed by Chuck, or by Don for that matter, although she was struggling to remain polite throughout the conversation. Caroline took her cue from this, and apologized to Don, saying that they needed to get back on the road for a meeting. He seemed disappointed at the transparent white lie, but they put a good face on it, and hit the highway back to Rachel’s place.

“We need to talk, I suppose,” Rachel said after a long and heavy silence on the return drive.

“Okay,” Caroline said, wondering if this was at long last the unraveling of the mysterious call Allen had made earlier. “Every time you say ‘we need to talk,’ I know it’s about to be heavy, so let’s hear it, I suppose.”

“Yes, I guess I did telegraph that punch,” Rachel said with a slight chuckle. “But at least it gets you on your guard, and lets you know that it will be heavy, yes. I need to get a lot of this out on the table right now, and I’d appreciate if you didn’t ask any questions until I’ve gotten through at least the beginning of everything I have to say, Caroline.”

“Okay,” Caroline said, her curiosity whetted by this preamble. “I’ll zip my lip until you come up for air, then.”

“Thank you,” Rachel said. “I guess the first thing I want to talk to you about is our loyalties, and where they lie. I’ve come to find that I like you a great deal, and that I’m even starting to love you, like I mentioned to you this morning, and from me, that buys enormous lots of my loyalty. But you need to understand that my first and primary loyalty lies with our master, and that so should yours. What I’m saying is that as far as he’s concerned, it’s more than just okay if we betray one another to him, if it’s the best for all concerned. I don’t keep secrets from Allen, and you shouldn’t either, and if you have a problem with me, it’s your duty to rat me out to him as soon as you can bend his ear, and you’ll get the same from me with regard to him. But outside of Allen, my loyalty to you is going to be absolute, and I hope that yours is similarly reflected.”

Caroline made a sound that wasn’t quite a grunt, but indicated that she’d just gotten some food for thought. She didn’t speak up or interrupt with questions just yet, Rachel was gratified to see. She still had a good piece to travel with Caroline in this talk before she’d really welcome any commentary or questions. For Caroline’s part, she was still coming to grips with the concept that it wasn’t only okay, but indeed encouraged and expected of her to drop the dime on Rachel any time she saw Rachel doing wrong, and this was in opposition to everything she’d learned in social mores since she was in kindergarten long ago and far away. In short, she didn’t say anything because she had no idea what she should say at this point anyway.

“I think that we both intellectually understand that we’re equal in Allen’s eyes,” Rachel continued after a deep breath. “But I don’t think I’m all the way on board viscerally, deep in my belly, and I’m betting you’re not to that place either, Caroline. And that’s something we have to address before I let my attitude and pride tear us apart, and you ride off the range again and won’t return. I don’t want that. Allen doesn’t want that, and I like to flatter myself to think that you surely don’t want that.”

“But it’s only expected,” Caroline blurted. “You’ve been with him for years now, you wear his brand, even. And I’m just a new amusement who may or may not stay in this, Rachel.”

“It sounds like you needed a caning on your back as badly as I did,” Rachel observed idly. “Yes, I’ve been there longer, but I’m still only Allen’s slave, and now I’m not his only slave, pardon all the word-play, and we need to take steps to ensure that we both understand our place as equals before him, Caroline. You need to understand that my natural bitchiness isn’t to be tolerated, and so do I.”

Caroline opened her mouth to object, and Rachel started talking again before Caroline could get a word in edgewise. “If you were about to say I’m not a natural born bitch, please don’t belittle us with lies, okay? In the office, and in a lot of social situations, that serves me quite well, but this isn’t a professional or social bond we’re having here, Caroline. This is an affair that may well be lifelong, and bitchiness is going to be poison to it, on my behalf or yours.”

“I’m listening,” Caroline said, still highly curious as to exactly where this was all going, and uncertain what else she could say until she got the lay of the land here.

“I think we need to get a visceral understanding of just exactly what our places are, that neither of us is the other’s superior here, and I’ve come up with something that I mentioned to Allen this morning on the phone,” Rachel went on, feeling suddenly terrified of what may or may not come her way in the days to follow. “Since the problem is that we both seem to think that I’m the alpha to your beta, perhaps we need to intentionally reverse those roles for a few days, while Master’s out of town, Caroline.”

“Okay, that requires some Dick and Jane work,” Caroline said, acting baffled, but actually trying to come to terms with this little bombshell Rachel had just dropped at her doorstep. “You’ve lost me entirely.”

“That will take a bit of explaining,” Rachel said, then pointed to an Exxon at an exit. “Pull in there for a moment, please. I need to use the bathroom before I do much of anything else, and then we can talk for the rest of the run back to my place.”

Caroline stopped at the Exxon, and bought them each a Coke while Rachel used the ladies’ room, and in a few minutes they were back on the road, although Rachel was still being silent and mysterious like the Sphinx out in Egypt. Somehow, Caroline decided the right thing to do was to let Rachel stew in her own juices about whatever she had in her mind, but the silence was oppressive, and Caroline needed a break in it.

“How did you and Allen come to be master and slave, anyway,” she asked. “I don’t think I ever asked.”

“Believe it or not, quite by accident,” Rachel said, and chuckled. “It’s a longish story. Are you sure you want to hear all of this?”

“I know I want to hear it,” Caroline said. “If I’m going to be a part of this, I want to know your stories, and I’m guessing you will want to know mine as time goes by, yes?”

“Good point,” Rachel agreed. “Okay, get your ears ready, because it’ll be a longish tale here.”

Caroline -- Part Twenty-One

While Caroline semi-dozed in the king-sized bed, Allen had Rachel start the shower, and once it was hot a moment later, they both got in, and Rachel began bathing Allen, soaping his body and shampooing his hair, but all the while with a sour and sullen expression on her face. Allen didn’t miss that expression, but kept his peace for the moment while she detached the shower head and sluiced the lather from his body. After she was done cleansing her master from his day, she shut off the water and then toweled him dry.

“Come with me,” Allen said once he was dressed.

“Yes, Master,” Rachel said, still in a sullen mood that was betrayed in her tone of voice. She followed him downstairs, and felt a nasty lurch in her heart when he entered the dungeon and told her to get inside.

“Would you like to tell me what the hell’s your problem,” Allen asked, turning to face her, his tone one of irritation. “You’ve been acting pissy with me since I put you in the corner up there.” Actually, Allen had a good idea of her reasoning, but he needed to hear Rachel confess nevertheless.

“Goddammit,” Rachel exploded, suddenly feeding oxygen to the embers of anger. “You just completely ignored me so you could fuck your new girl up there, and I’m feeling like secondhand junk here, to some new little Jenny-come-lately, and you’re wondering why I’m in a bad mood about it!”

“Who owns your ass, Rachel,” Allen asked, his tone calm, but stern.

“You know you do, Master,” Rachel answered, pointing to the brand he’d implanted on her chest in a ceremony that bound them for life. “And that brand means that I should get more of your attention than Caroline gets.”

“Wrong,” Allen said, and pointed to a chair. “Sit down, Rachel.”

“Yes, Sir,” Rachel said, sitting and still glaring at Allen, who couldn’t escape the thought that she was acting like a teenager being grounded unfairly by Mom and Dad, and not at all like the grown woman in her thirties that she actually was. Allen was surprised, and pleased, that he’d gotten this sort of reaction from her. Obviously, Rachel did indeed need to be brought down a couple pegs, and although the hour was late, the time was nevertheless right.

“Caroline is new, and I think she needs a bit more attention,” Allen began. “And if you’re thinking you’re going to be her superior in this triad, you’d best rethink your position immediately, Rachel. If she remains with us, she’ll be your equal, and not your inferior. That means sometimes she’ll be the number one girl, and sometimes you’ll be the number one girl, but you’re not going to lord it over her because you’ve been with me longer.”

“But…” Rachel started to object, then cut her objection short when Allen raised his hand in a clear gesture for her to shut up.

“But nothing,” he told her. “We made it crystal clear between us when I took you as my slave all those years ago that my power over you and your life is absolute, and that you had no rights then and wanted no rights. You reaffirmed all this again the night we branded you as mine, and that agreement is in force until one of us gets wrapped in a shroud, Rachel.”

“Master, I just feel like she’s taking my rightful place,” Rachel said in a miserable tone. Somehow, she knew she was in for a bad time of it in here before he’d let her go to bed while he drove back home. But she determined to speak her mind, come whatever hell he was about to visit on her, or the proverbial high water too, for that matter. “That’s my bed up there. This is my house, and she’s stealing you from me, and it makes me angry, Sir.”




Unbeknownst to them, Caroline had woken when they’d left for downstairs, and walked down a few seconds behind them. She had been standing just outside the door of the dungeon, never acknowledging the fact that she’d been eavesdropping. At this announcement from Rachel, she choked back a sob, and ran to Rachel’s bedroom, looking for something to wear home. No way could she stay here and face this level of humiliation, and she just wanted to sneak away, find a hole to hide in, and pull it in over her head, and maybe never come out. She finally swiped a robe, and tiptoed back downstairs, where she fetched her purse and keys from the foyer, and slipped out of the house, starting her Honda and hauling ass home, wailing in her humiliation all the way, and knowing that her days at Tres Cruces Business Solutions had come to an end in Rachel’s dungeon.

Once home, she dashed into her house and showered the smell of her “master” and her sex with him from her body, and then debated whether to go to the office now and clean out her desk, or to go in early tomorrow, before anyone got there. She decided to go in tomorrow, and pulled down a bottle of bourbon from her liquor cabinet, and filled an old-fashioned glass with the amber liquid, then drank it dry, and refilled the glass once more before going into her living room, and booting up her computer, the whiskey doing more of her thinking than was probably safe.

She typed up an email, addressed to both Rachel and Allen:



Allen and Rachel,

I don’t know if your objective was to finally humiliate me beyond what I could be expected to suffer, but that’s about where you got me. I give up. You win. I’ll come in and clear out my desk and you can drop the current resignation letter in my file, although I wish you’d have the decency to give me a good reference.
Rachel, I never tried to steal Allen from you, and never meant to intrude on your hallowed ground, or to take away from you what you termed your “rightful place” as Allen’s slave. I didn’t deserve that. I was invited into your relationship, remember? Oh, fuck it. Who cares? You win, okay?

I’m done,
Caroline



With that, she hit the send button before her better senses could make her stop, and then knocked back the rest of her Weller’s 107-proof bourbon, and staggered off to bed, where she cried herself to sleep in maudlin sorrow, helped along on a wash of good bourbon.





Back at Rachel’s, Allen and Rachel were unaware of these things, and had never heard Caroline’s retreat. “Are you handing me an ultimatum,” Allen asked, his voice still calm, but with a tone that told Rachel she’d best rein in her mouth if she didn’t want to go for Double Jeopardy, where the scores can really change.

“And if I was,” Rachel asked carefully.

“You know I don’t accept ultimatums,” Allen said. “And if that was indeed an ultimatum, you can consider our relationship done, and I’ll go right now.”

“Then you know why I’ve never handed you an ultimatum, and why I’m not doing it now,” Rachel said, knowing she’d pushed him tonight further than was safe or wise, and wondering just how hard it was going to go for her now that she’d dug herself a pit with her mouth and attitude and jumped right in. “The hell of it is, I really like Caroline, and I think with the experience of getting to know her, I’m likely to love her before long. But it just scared me, that she might be taking my spot with you.”

“No,” Allen said. “She’ll be equal to you, and that means you’ll be sharing your spot with her. Are we clear on that?”

“Yes, Sir,” Rachel said.

“And you’re going to welcome Caroline into this home the same way you welcome me into your home, and you’re going to make it crystal clear to her that as long as she’s with us, she’s your equal in my eyes, and not your lesser, except in those times when I might put one of you over the other. Obviously, you’ve been needing to be brought down a couple notches lately, which was why I put you in the corner tonight. And now you’ve proved me right, Rachel, and it’s going to cost you more than a bit of wounded pride.”

“I expected that it would when you led me back in here,” Rachel said, more in a tone of sadness than fear or dread. She knew she’d let her mouth overload her ass this time, and she knew that there would be a price to be exacted from her for having done so, and as much for having lost her faith in her master. She deserved whatever was about to happen, she knew, but that didn’t mean she was eager to face his justice. “Master, I want you to know I really do like Caroline,” she repeated. “She’s a good person, and fun to be around. I just let jealousy overcome my good sense, and I’m sorry.”

“And about to be sorrier,” Allen remarked, then pointed to the bondage furniture that Rachel despised the most, a padded board, three feet square with a low cross mounted to it. “Take your position there, Rachel.”

“Yes, Master,” Rachel said, and knelt before the cross, on the padding, while Allen busied himself cuffing her ankles to rings inset in the kneeling board, and then cuffed her wrists to the crosspiece, binding her helplessly for whatever beating was to ensue, which she only knew by bitter experiences would be something laid to her upper back. And then she quivered in terror when she saw that Allen had selected a thin and long cane for her punishment, what Rachel had always thought was the worst thing he could use on her short of a bullwhip. She was glad he’d already bound her before choosing his instrument, because she’d have had hell submitting to the bondage if she’d had this foreknowledge.

“I think a round dozen should just about teach you your lesson,” Allen remarked in a matter-of-fact tone, then lightly touched her back with the cane, gauging his aim before laying her beating. “If there’s anything you’d like to say, now’s your last best chance, Rachel.”

“Just that I regret how I’ve acted tonight, and I know I deserve what I’m getting,” Rachel said, near tears in anticipation of the agony soon to beset her.

“Then perhaps this caning will remind you to behave better in the future,” Allen said, then reared back with the cane and laid a harsh stripe to her unmarked shoulders, bringing an instant furious-looking red welt to her skin. Even expecting the pain, Rachel was overcome with it, and screamed to the ceiling, her head thrown back and her face a mask of intensive agony. Allen waited several seconds while Rachel gasped and gulped at the air, trying to cope with the pain, and then slashed into her with the second stroke, harder than the first. Rachel screamed louder this time, already struggling in futility with her bonds, and Allen merely waited several seconds, then lashed her again, and again, until he’d laid all twelve lashes to his slave in the space of perhaps three minutes. Rachel screamed on every stroke, and if Caroline had remained there, she would have heard the screams clearly all the way to Rachel’s upstairs bedroom, since the door had been left ajar. Indeed, despite the soundproofing, Rachel’s screams could have been heard by someone standing in her driveway, so harsh was her screaming, and so terrible was her agony. But nobody heard her cries but her master, and he turned a deaf ear to them before they could break his heart. He was whipping Rachel because he loved her and wanted her to be the best she could be, and it hurt his heart because he loved her and regretted the necessity of correcting her.

But the beating was finally done, and Allen was happy to put the cane away, and to release Rachel from her bonds. Allen helped her to her feet, and then held her closely while she cried her last onto his shirt for a moment. And then Rachel fell to her knees and kissed Allen’s hand. “Thank you, Master,” she said. “Thank you for teaching me this lesson.”

“You’re welcome, Rachel,” he said, and drew her back to her feet.

“Master,” Rachel began, and then shut her mouth, with a pensive look on her pretty face.

“What is it, Rachel,” Allen asked, trying not to sound impatient. “Out with it, baby.”

“Yes, Sir,” Rachel said, then spoke her mind. “Master, perhaps it would be good for me, and for Caroline, if I asked her to stay here tonight and tomorrow night, perhaps to share my bed, and see what happens between us. Maybe it’ll bring us closer, and maybe it’ll let me get over any residual jealousy that might still be there.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Allen said, pleased with the better attitude that Rachel was instantly displaying. “Let’s go up and tell her. I won’t give her the choice, so we’ll overcome that objection.”

A minute later, upstairs, they both looked at one another in bafflement, wondering where Caroline had gotten off to. In a couple minutes, they figured out that Caroline had left, and in a couple minutes more, they were again baffled when they rang her cell phone, and got only her voice mail, then rang her house and got only the buzzing of a busy signal. They looked for a note from Caroline, and found none, and finally Allen told Rachel to wait while he drove over to Caroline’s house to see if she was there or if she’d had car trouble on the way in her little rolling beer can of a car. By the time Allen had arrived at Caroline’s house, finding her car in the driveway, she was already in bed and dead drunk, and never heard him pounding on the door or ringing the doorbell. And then his cell phone rang as he was getting back into his car.

“Master, it’s Rachel,” he heard his slave say over the phone. “We have something of a problem, Sir.”

“What is it,” Allen asked. “Explain.”

“Sir, somehow Caroline overheard some of our conversation,” Rachel said, reading her email and feeling sick about it. “And it seems she thinks we’d be happier, or at least I’d be happier, with her out of this. She said she quits and she’s going to clear out her desk at the office.”

“The fuck she is,” Allen said, sounding annoyed. “You get your ass dressed and get the fuck over to her house, and I don’t care if you have to sleep in your car in her driveway tonight, you will talk with her and talk sense to her tomorrow morning first thing, Rachel. Now, I’m going to go home and try to get what sleep I can before I have to run off to Minnesota tomorrow, but you get your ass over here and you do what needs done if you don’t want real trouble from me. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes, Master,” Rachel said hurriedly. “I’m on the way out the door now.” She hung up, hurriedly dressed in jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt, not even bothering with a bra, and was out the door and on the way to Caroline’s house in less than five minutes, upset with worry to the point where she cried almost all the way there, where she indeed did wind up sleeping most uncomfortably in her Buick, which she’d parked tightly behind Caroline’s Honda, to block her exit. She woke with the sun, and with a myriad of aches and pains, most of which had nothing to do with her whippings taken at Allen’s hands the day before. She got out of her car, groaning with stiffness and soreness, and sat on a lawn chair on Caroline’s porch for another hour, desperately needing to pee, before Caroline opened the door, looking stunned to see Rachel there, which in turn kind of surprised Rachel.

“What are you doing here,” Caroline asked, surprised to see Rachel there. “I hope you’re above coming out to gloat.”

“No, I’m not here to gloat,” Rachel said, irritated that Caroline would think that of her, but taking a deep breath and setting that to the side. “First, I really need to use your can, and then you and I obviously have some huge talking to do, because you got the wrong signals last night, sister.”

“Fuck. Sure, come right on in,” Caroline said, and walked back into her house, annoyed that Rachel was here in light of last night’s events. Wasn’t it bad enough that things had gone as they had without her coming here to make things even worse?

“Gee whiz, thanks,” Rachel muttered under her breath as she followed Caroline into the house and then went down the hall to her bathroom while Caroline got coffee running, and swallowed some Tylenol to stave off a hangover that was threatening to kill her this morning. She knew better than to knock back bourbon like she’d done last night, so the hangover was entirely her fault. And, seeing Rachel here this morning, she regretted all the more that she’d gotten so hammered last night, and wasn’t at her best this morning, feeling and looking like hell. It hadn’t sunken into her muddled brain just yet that Rachel wasn’t hung over, but looked no better.

Rachel returned to the kitchen just as the coffee finished brewing, and she asked Caroline to have a seat, and poured them both a cup of coffee. She’d seen enough hangovers to know that Caroline had to have a prize winner going. “We need to talk,” she said, sitting down and handing Caroline a mug of the steaming black brew.

Caroline -- Part Twenty

“There you are,” Allen said with a sleepy smile as the ladies entered the bedroom upstairs. Caroline couldn’t help noticing the room was spacious and very plush, decorated with a lot of wood, and with the dual focal points of a stone fireplace and an enormous king-sized four-poster bed that must have set Rachel back a pretty penny when she bought the thing. Caroline would later learn that the bed had cost four thousand dollars, and had been custom made by a woodworker over the span of six months, made of rich Texas mesquite wood, and with a rich blue set of sheets and matching canopy covers.

Caroline couldn’t help noticing that Allen was buck naked on the bed, and that his male member was mostly erect already. She was gratified that her suffering had so excited him, and was instantly in a state of heightened arousal, wanting nothing more in this world than for him to fuck her. Not to make love to her, she decided, but to fuck her like crazy, to force her into her climax, and leave her a sweaty shuddering mess, wanting more and more from him. She was aware that a trickle of her wetness was drizzling down an inner thigh, and was aware that this didn’t embarrass her in the least. No, she was excited and wanting her master to take her, to use her. God, she was a mess!

“Get on this bed, Caroline,” Allen ordered. “Take me in your mouth and get me all the way hard. Rachel, pleasure Caroline with your fingers while she attends me.”

“Yes, Master,” both women said in unison, almost like they’d rehearsed. Caroline got onto the bed, on all fours, gapping her thighs wide for Rachel’s access, and gently took Allen’s balls in her hand, then gave a long gliding lick up and down the shaft of his penis while he growled his pleasure. Caroline loosed her own sexual growl as she felt Rachel’s fingers teasing her labia, sliding easily through the wetted fiery red hair down below, and slowly gliding up and down her wetted folds. She wondered if there’d be a penalty for her if Rachel brought her to climax, and knew that it would be worth whatever price Allen exacted from her. She was that much in need of satisfaction, she knew, as she suddenly sucked her master’s erection all the way into her mouth, swallowing around the head of his erection as he made a nearly painful sound of passion and his fists clenched in the sheets. His body was quivering, and in Caroline’s periphery, she could see his belly tightening, and she knew that it wouldn’t take too much of her deep-throat attentions before he pasted her throat with his seed. Can’t have that, now can we, she thought. She slacked off some, just gliding her mouth up and down on his erection while Rachel’s fingers slid into her vagina and danced, bringing her closer and closer to the brink of her own climax.

Caroline deep-throated her master again, just to make sure she still had his undivided attention, as Rachel’s attentions increased as well, and suddenly, Caroline was sent reeling over the brink, howling as her climax overtook her by surprise, and she weakly shuddered as she fell to the sheets, on her belly. With effort, Rachel didn’t let up, still teasing her and now tormenting her clitoris, and then she felt a flare of pain as Allen gave her two hard spanks to her back. “Continue sucking on me, you little slut,” he growled. “Unless you’d like to go back downstairs for four dozen of my best to remind you to obey me, Caroline?”

Wordlessly, Caroline immediately took his erection back into her mouth, bobbing up and down on it as Rachel worked her toward another climax. This second one was expected, but was twice as powerful as the first, and she felt tears running from her eyes as she strained not to bite down on her master’s erection, the consequences of which just staggered the mind with nasty possibilities. Somehow, as the climax coursed through her at light speed, Caroline kept bobbing her head up and down on Allen’s erection, twirling her tongue around the head of the erection as she came up the shaft.

“Stop,” Allen commanded. “Get up on all fours, Caroline.”

“Yes, Master,” a very eager Caroline answered, and positioned herself as ordered, more than happy to be his bed slut tonight, or any time, come to think of it.

“Rachel, put your nose in a corner,” Allen ordered his more senior slave. “You’ve served your purpose tonight.”

Rachel obeyed, feeling hurt, angry, and jealous all at the same time. She stuck her nose in the corner just like a third-grader caught throwing paper airplanes in class, and was a bit ashamed that she was actually pouting and furious that her master had humiliated her like this before Caroline. She pricked her ears to the sounds coming from the bed – her bed – and stewed while things progressed with her master and her new sister slave, whom she was starting to despise, no matter how admittedly unfairly. She wondered if she’d somehow displeased Allen, and if this was her punishment for having done so, but knew that this wasn’t the time or place for questions if she didn’t want to be horsewhipped before bedtime tonight. Rachel had far too often suffered the ravages of Allen’s whip cutting across her bared back to want to do anything that she flat-out knew would find her facing the whip again. She could get in enough trouble by accident, thanks just the same, and didn’t need to go looking for it. She determined to ask him what this was all about as soon as the proper opportunity arose, though.

Caroline moaned half in pain and half in pleasure as Allen stroked her battered buttocks with his hands, feeling the welts he had laid so deeply into her skin. And then he gave her a hard spank to each buttock and Caroline yelped in surprise. “Just to remind you that I own this ass,” he remarked as she calmed down, wondering if more of a beating was on her plate tonight.

“Thank you, Master,” Caroline said, knowing there was really nothing else to say.

“You’re welcome, Caroline,” Allen answered, then knee-walked behind her and teased her labia with the head of his erection as she purred and stretched all of her resolve into not pressing her ass back toward him to impale herself on his erection. This was Allen’s show, she knew, and she somehow figured that if she tried to take charge of things, this night would probably end with her on the whipping post screaming as his horsewhip branded her back for her insolence, and would almost certainly not involve her getting laid, as was apparently about to happen, if she’d just stay patient.

In no more than five seconds, her patience began to reap its reward, as Allen slowly slid his erection into her, taking his sweet time in running its entire length into her until his hips mashed tightly into her sore buttocks, the pleasure/pain combination utterly delicious to her. Caroline moaned and purred as her own fists clenched in the bedding, trying to stave off her climax, in the hopes that it would intensify before it finally struck home. Allen took a moment to sway his hips against her battered butt, making more pain flare as his erection swayed inside her from left to right, and Caroline could feel the weight of his scrotum pressed to her clitoris. Altogether, she was in a state of high delight. And yes, she was also in a high state of rut, wanting more than the air she breathed to be ridden hard and used by this man, her master Allen, until she was completely spent. She somehow suspected he wasn’t about to dissatisfy her desires in this bed, and distantly wondered, not really caring because she was horny and therefore a bit selfish, if Rachel had displeased Allen somehow.

That thought was scattered as Allen drew back and delivered a hard thrust into her, his hips colliding harshly into her ass as the tip of his erection probed her cervix, and Caroline cried out in ecstasy, nearly jolted to orgasm already before they’d really begun. Before she could assemble her mind around the sexual jolt, Allen drew back and thrust in again, just as hard, just as rampantly, and Caroline knew that this oncoming climax was going to be life-altering and mind-bending. She might even use it to start a whole new religion, she considered, as he started a fast pattern of thrusting in and out of her. He wasn’t making love to her this time. No, she knew, he was using her for his own pleasure just as she’d hoped he would, and she knew that if she didn’t manage to climax this time, it wasn’t going to be his problem. But just as quickly, Caroline knew she was about to cum as hard as she’d ever done, and very soon. Allen’s hips kept slamming against her butt at a hard and furious pace as she heard him grunting with every thrust, and the shockwaves rolling through her body from her vagina and clitoris were sending her reeling over the brink in a huge hurry.

She lasted through nine more of his hard thrusts and then screamed into the bedding as her climax ripped through her body, making her shudder helplessly as she rode the sexual whirlwind. She bucked and thrashed about as much as her position and weakened state would allow, and felt the pain as Allen gave her a couple very hard spanks to still her, and then resumed thrusting in and out of her with his hands roughly grasping her hips to hold her in place for what was a rampant and furious fucking. In truth, the pain of the spanks only served to fuel the fires raging inside the cauldron of her raging climax, but she was too weakened to buck and thrash much more anyway. Allen didn’t last very much longer in any event, perhaps thirty more seconds or forty-five, before his own climax erupted violently into her, spewing what felt like a pint of his seed into her vagina while she weakly mounted toward a second climax that fizzled and then returned with a vengeance when he began thrusting again, harder and faster, apparently not wanting to waste whatever might be left of his erection. A moment later, Caroline screeched into the bedding again as another climax slammed into her at Mach speed, and she shuddered and jerked for a moment and then slumped to the bed, halfway into a swoon. She was dimly aware of Allen leaning in and kissing her gently between her shoulders, and caressing her lower back for a moment before getting off the bed. She heard him tell Rachel to follow him into the shower, and fell asleep a moment later as she heard the water running in there.

Caroline -- Part Nineteen

"Looking good," Joel greeted her the next morning when she arrived at her office.

"Thanks," Caroline said, trying not to blush at the compliment. She thought she indeed looked smashing in her new attire, today a dark green skirt with a tan colored silk blouse. This particular ensemble had eaten a good chunk of the clothing budget from the shopping trip. But she was also a bit uncomfortable by Joel's observations. His eyes seemed to be roaming all over her figure, and she hoped she wasn't about to have to fend him off. He was a nice guy, but she just wasn't interested in him that way. But she nevertheless couldn't help feeling flattered that she so obviously appealed to him in this way.

"I apparently have to go car shopping tonight," she continued. "I'm still not sure what I want to get, though."

"Would you like me to go with you," Joel asked.

"Thanks, but I think I'd better do it alone," Caroline replied. "Besides, I have a date tonight." Her little white lie seemed to have the desired effect of dampening his building ardor, she saw, as his face took on a look of disappointment.
"Oh," he said. "I see. Okay, then. Well, I need to get some of this Belize shit ready to rock, so I'd best get on it."

Caroline's day passed uneventfully until lunch time, when she got a call from Rachel instructing her to come to her office. The two went out to lunch together at a nearby Mexican place, and devoured an order of fajitas for two, and a couple margaritas each. When they returned to work, Rachel gave Caroline a thick envelope and told her to go to her office and review it, make a shortlist and then go car shopping early. She would be wanted at Rachel's house for a private meeting at seven, a couple hours earlier. Allen, it seemed, would be flying to Chicago and back the next day and wanted to get into bed early.

Caroline did as instructed, seeing that the garden variety cars were off-limits to her. She was to aim for luxury, for the top of the line, as Joel had informed her the day before. Not a single car on the approved list would carry a sticker price under fifty-five grand, and the MSRP allowable was capped at one-twenty, she saw with a surprising sense of dismay. She hoped she didn't fuck up and lose this job, and this shot at the good life that she was being given, and redoubled her resolve to do a good job for Allen from here on in. She short-listed a BMW, an Infiniti, a Cadillac Escalade, a Mercedes-Benz, and a Lincoln Navigator. In short, the parameters told her she had to get a luxury sedan or SUV, and she wondered how she would adapt to this new high-dollar lifestyle. Her little Honda, to be blunt, was a piece of shit, and it was no better or worse than the five other cars she'd owned in her life. She'd long since given up even dreaming of ever owning a new car, not even a low-end cheapie, and here she was looking at several vehicles that cost more than her little house, which had only priced out at sixty grand when she bought it. Jesus.

The packet also contained a list of approved dealers, all within a close drive from the office, and so Caroline drove to the Infiniti dealer first, but she didn't really like the cars, basically hyper-Nissans, and the salesman was rather snotty with her, seeing her Honda and deciding she couldn't buy anything on the lot anyway. Fuck him, she decided, and went to the BMW lot a mile down the Interstate, where she drove and mostly fell in love with a 745 Li sedan that was loaded to the gunwales, and generally nicer than her house, even. She got the saleswoman's card -- a woman of some forty years named Anna McCreary -- and wrote down the VIN and other pertinent information, grimacing inwardly at the price tag of $86,000 and some change, then went ten minutes to the Lincoln lot, where she test drove a Navigator, built on the chassis of Ford's venerable F-150 series pickup truck. She liked the Navigator, and the price was far less at just under $61,000, but left there for the Mercedes dealership a half-mile away still liking the BMW better, but perhaps the Mercedes would be better still. She was about to find out.

If Caroline liked the BMW, she positively adored the Mercedes, although there was another salesman who pissed her off with his sneering attitude at her "trade-in." Caroline wondered if this guy and the guy at the Infiniti store were kin somehow. The price was significantly greater too, she couldn't help noticing. The Mercedes she drove, an S-500 sedan, came in with a sticker price just over a hundred grand, and while that was comfortably inside the pricing range, Caroline didn't feel right spending that much of Allen's money on what she still saw as a probationary position. She smiled at the salesman as she parked the Mercedes, and asked for his card, just from a sense of politeness that he didn't deserve, and decided on the spot to go for the BMW, and drove home, then filled out the form for the car that was included in the packet, all the while feeling a flurry of butterflies erupting in her belly in a crazed display of aerobatics. She wondered what she'd do with her Honda, and decided first things first. She'd need to get the Beamer before she dispensed with the Honda. She left for Rachel's house a bit early, and got there at a quarter before seven to the enticing aroma of wood smoke coming from behind Rachel's house, where she was grilling something on a barbecue.

As she was ringing the doorbell, Allen arrived in his own BMW, which gave Caroline pause about her own decision to get one for herself, not wanting to look like a copycat or worse yet, abusive of her perquisite of a company car. But she'd settled on a 745, while Allen went for more ostentation with the 760 series, which came in at a much higher price. Allen hugged and kissed her at the door and let her in, to find Rachel in the foyer coming to let her in.

"You're both a bit early," Rachel said. "Caroline, can you get the table set while I finish up the steaks out there?"

"Sure," Caroline said, and got the dining room table set, and tea poured for everyone. A few moments later, Rachel entered with a platter containing three very nice ribeye steaks and three big baked potatoes, straight from her grill, presumably out back on the patio.

"This is all cooked over one of the ten zillion mesquite trees I cut down in Mexico," Rachel said, smiling. "I hope you came hungry, Caroline."

"Starving, actually," Caroline reported honestly. "Lunch was good, but the car shopping didn't allow me any time to eat, and it's a good hour past my regular supper time." Caroline didn't add that her supper would most likely have been a sparse one. Money had been tighter than tight the last couple months since she'd needed to borrow eight thousand dollars against the house to hire a plumber to replace most of the house's pipes. She'd been trying to get the house refinanced to pay off that loan, and lower her monthly notes, but the bank was being difficult about it. She'd always been very private about money, though, and saw no need to belabor Allen or Rachel with her financial difficulties. She hoped the promotion would see her getting a decent raise before long, though, or she'd probably have to put her house on the market and go find a little apartment somewhere.

"Did you choose a car," Allen asked over supper.

"Yes, Sir," Caroline said. "A BMW 745 looked like the right one for me."

"That's not very fancy," Allen remarked. "Why not go for the 760, like what I'm driving? It's a hell of a good car."

"I didn't want to take too much advantage," Caroline answered, uncomfortably. "It's an awfully expensive car, Sir."

"It's under the ceiling I set," Allen answered. "And to be honest, I'd rather my A-Team people have the best of everything. It leaves a stronger impression on the clientele, some of whom you'll be getting to know quite soon, I think. If you look successful, you'll be successful. The car is a nice perquisite of your position, Caroline, but it's not entirely a gift for you so much as an investment in your efforts. Okay?"

"Yes, Sir," Caroline said, feeling a bit better about it, and wondering if she shouldn't go for the 760 in light of what he'd just said. She had noticed one on the lot, in the blue color she'd liked. She randomly wondered why they felt like they had to give special names to the colors for cars, in this case "Orient Blue" instead of just plain old blue, or dark blue or medium blue. They all did it, and she thought it was the height of silliness. You can call it snow or paper or summer clouds, but it was still just plain old white at the end of the day, wasn't it? She shook her head to dispel the random thought. "I'll go give the 760 another look tomorrow, if you think that's best" she continued.

"Do that first thing in the morning," Allen ordered. "Come to work late, if need be, but I want Rachel to have paperwork on the car by two tomorrow, so she can go ahead and make the arrangements for it. I'm going to be sending you out to deal with some clientele next week, and I'm afraid that Honda of yours won't quite get it done. Nobody's going to do two-comma business with a woman driving up in a four-wheeled beer can." He smiled at her, and Caroline smiled back, but she took his point.

"Yes, Sir," she said, deciding that she'd go for the 760 unless she was somehow allergic to the thing. Besides, Allen's Beamer was tan in color, or whatever infernal title they bestowed upon tan at the BMW marketing shop, and Caroline's heart was set on Orient Blue.

"But that's not why I wanted you to come out here tonight," Allen said as Rachel cleared the table and he led Caroline into the living room. "I'm going out of town until Friday evening, on a business run to Minneapolis -- Jesus, I hate that city -- and that means you and Rachel have some business with me about your submission."
"I don't understand, Master," Caroline said.

“Rachel, why don’t you explain to Caroline what happens when I go out of town,” Allen ordered.

“Certainly, Master,” Rachel said, then turned her attention to Caroline. “Caroline, whenever Master is going to be gone more than a day, it’s been his habit to give me a pretty good spanking before he leaves, just to remind me of my place, and that just because the cat’s away, it’s not advisable for the mouse – since you’re here now, perhaps that should be mice – to play. It’s usually nothing serious, but enough to keep the butt hurting for a day or two. I’m certain Master has you in mind to be spanked right alongside me this evening before he departs for Minnesota.”

“I see,” Caroline said, feeling far more excited than dismayed at this prospect. She hated being punished, but she had once loved being disciplined, put in her place, by her former master, and she was betting she would love it from Allen not one bit less, and probably a great deal more. “Is this to be before supper or after?”

“After,” Rachel said while Allen chuckled. “I’m half-starved, and I’m certain you and Master are also hungry.”

Dinner was marvelous, and Caroline raved over the delicious steaks. Rachel, as it turned out, was a hell of a good cook, at least out on the barbecue. “Well, thank me too,” Allen joked. “That steer was one of mine! I had it butchered a couple weeks ago.”

“Then thank you too, Master,” Caroline said, smiling. “You give good meat.”

“Jesus,” Allen gasped after a long moment’s laughter, joined by Rachel, and finally, a blushing Caroline, who in no way meant to utter a double entendre, but was ultimately glad she did, no matter how accidentally.

“So are you going to … umm … ‘meat’ one of us tonight, Master,” Rachel joked.

“Maybe after I’ve given y’all some smoked … umm … hams,” Allen shot back, to Caroline’s amusement. “But you girls must have hot hams before I leave for the frozen northlands.”

“Yes, Master,” replied a smiling Rachel, obviously at ease with her master, and what the balance of the evening would hold for them both. “And if you make us wear tight jeans, I guess we’ll have pressed smoked hams, right? Can we stop with the puns now, or shall I get out my really bad ones?”

“Okay, I surrender,” Allen said, holding his hands high as though the victim of a stick-up, while Caroline grinned at the exchange. It felt good to her to be a part of this easy closeness, like she’d finally come home after a long journey to places she hated visiting.

“Whew! Lucky for you, Sir,” Rachel said, mimicking re-holstering an imaginary six-gun after blowing smoke from the finger that was her barrel.

“Cute,” Allen said with his own grin. “Now, you two ladies get your asses out to the dungeon so I can start getting spankful with you. Move it!”

In the garage-dungeon, both women stripped naked, and Rachel guided Caroline to a padded table, and had her bend over it, then bent right next to her, hip pressed to hip, and held her hand while they waited for Allen, who had made a quick run to the bathroom before taking care of business. He apparently was really full of it, Caroline realized with humor, because he was in there a while before they heard the flush, and then the water running in the sink while he evidently washed his hands. But Caroline’s humor was greatly offset with strong arousal fed by a good river of delicious fear of the unknown, since she really had no idea what to expect here. It was also surprisingly erotic to her to be naked and bent over with Rachel, and she realized it was going to be a good bonding experience for them both, presuming things worked out and she ultimately found herself permanently welcomed into this budding tripartite relationship.

Suddenly, Caroline was surprised by a quick flash of light, and spun around without thinking to see Allen aiming a digital camera at them. “This just has to be recorded for posterity,” he smiled. “Two lovely asses on such delightful display for their master! Now, turn back around, Caroline. You weren’t given permission to move from your position, were you?”

“I’m sorry, Master,” Caroline said, quickly resuming her position as the camera flashed again at her rump. She was actually pleased with her butt, and thought it was perhaps the best feature of her body. She had breasts that she’d always thought were too small, and since she’d turned thirty, had started to sag some anyway. But her butt had, for some reason, stayed shapely and firm, and flared quite nicely from her waist and hips. She was uncomfortable with the thought that she indeed had a nicer butt than Rachel’s, although she was candid enough with herself to admit that of the two of them, Rachel was the more attractive with her height and long legs and big bust.

These thoughts were scattered to the four winds when she felt Allen’s hand caressing her butt, just lightly stroking and squeezing while she uttered a helpless moan of desire that he do far more to her tonight than merely this. He was apparently also fondling Rachel, because she was making similar sounds and squeezing Caroline’s hand quite agreeably. And then Caroline heard the unmistakable splatting sound of a hand delivering a good spank on bared flesh, and felt Rachel jerk some next to her, and heard Rachel’s moaning deepen some. Caroline was amazed to find that her own arousal had jacked up quite considerably, and then felt the first of her own spanks, and loosed a pleasured coo as the sting dissipated into nice warmth spreading into her left buttock, where he’d spanked her. She heard Rachel’s next spank, and a moment later felt her own spank crashing into her right buttock, stinging some, but far the more warming and sensual, she thought. And she also thought it was for damned sure an arousing experience. Right now, it was all she could do to hold still and not come off of this table and try to seduce Allen on the spot.

And then he fell into a pattern, giving Rachel two spanks, left and right, and then doing the same to Caroline. She lost count after forty or so, and it went on a while after that. Altogether, it wasn’t at all a terribly hard spanking, or terribly painful, but Caroline new her butt would be a bit tender from it for probably the balance of tomorrow, and maybe the day after. But she was enjoying it too much for that to be even close to a complaint, and knew that she’d probably seriously enjoy squirming on her slightly sore butt for as long as it lasted her.

After a while, the spanking stopped, and for a couple minutes, nothing happened. Caroline took her cues from Rachel, and remained stock still next to her friend, still with their fingers laced together. And then they heard the door behind them open and close as Allen left them.

“What’s going on,” Caroline asked Rachel in a very quiet whisper.

“What’s going on is that he’s going to come back and cane us now,” Rachel said. “And it’s going to hurt like hell, and we’re going to take it, and when it’s over, we’re going to thank our master for reminding us of our place.”

“A caning,” Caroline asked, trying to stifle her horror. Her ex-master had caned her one time, two dozen strokes, just to show her what it was like, and she had hated it and begged him to never cane her again. The pain in her tail lasted a week after that, and the marks lasted two weeks before finally fading away to nothing. That was five years ago, and the thought of canes still horrified Caroline. When she went looking for kinky fiction to read, anything about a caning turned her off, and she had to lay it aside, never to read it again. Indeed, kinky books she had bought were usually flipped right into the trash can if they had references to canings in them. “Jesus, I hate being caned, Rachel!”

“Well, you should’ve thought of that before you agreed to join in with our little assemblage,” Rachel said. “Say the word and I’m sure he’ll let you put your clothes back on, and then he’ll drive you home and I’ll follow in your car, Caroline. Or you can stop being a wimp, stop whining, and step up to the plate like a good slave is supposed to do. He’s your master, and it’s his right to do to either of us as he pleases. Get on board with that or get the hell out of here. Either way, I don’t care.” With that, Rachel opened her hand and drew it away from Caroline, and Caroline knew the insult and the challenge that had just been issued. Did she pick up the gauntlet now, or walk away?

“I’m not going anywhere,” Caroline said, her voice betraying her anger a bit. She wondered if Rachel was suddenly jealous, or just what was the deal, but in that second, she wouldn’t have walked away from this if she knew Allen was to return with a brine-soaked cane and five hundred lashes in his plans.

“Okay, then,” Rachel said, taking Caroline’s hand in hers while hiding her own smile at how easily manipulated Caroline was once you knew the buttons to press, in her case, those marked PRIDE. “Don’t worry too much, Caroline. The caning hurts like hell, but thus far, I’ve survived every one of them, and unless he’s in some sort of an evil mood, we’ll both survive tonight’s.”

“We can only hope so,” Caroline said with a touch of dark humor. A moment later, Allen returned, and Caroline looked in surprise at the wall before her to see his silhouette approaching them and the silhouette of the cane projecting from his hand. It looked to be about nine feet long, but she knew that was just an optical illusion. That knowledge, however, did little to relieve her dread. The shadow on the wall was that of what she was certain would prove to be a particularly evil length of rattan.

“I think a dozen strokes for each of you should keep you on the straight and narrow while I’m away,” Allen remarked in a matter-of-fact tone, as though he’d suggested something as routine as getting their tires checked before driving to Dallas, or making sure there was a new filter in the air conditioner.

“Thank you, Master,” Rachel said, echoed a second later by Caroline. What else was there to say, after all?

“You’re very welcome,” he said with a bit of a smile in his voice, and then gave Rachel three lashes, slowly measured out. By the tightness in the hand-squeeze, Caroline knew it had to have been beyond painful to her friend, but she uttered no noise beyond a quiet hissing through clenched teeth. Rachel, of course, was to Caroline’s left, which made her the better target for Allen’s right-handed strikes, or so Caroline believed until learning just a moment later that Allen was ambidextrous. She yelped out with surprise and pain as the searing stripes set into her skin, raising three large welts on her curved and pre-reddened rump, the greatest of them on the left buttock, where the tip end of the rattan struck her. She had likewise clenched tightly on Rachel’s hand, distantly aware that Rachel had hissed louder at the hand-squeezing than she had done at the caning, but Caroline was in too much of her own pain to really give a damn what Rachel was feeling, or even to notice. It was all she could do already to restrain herself to pained yelps and not to scream outright at the agony of the cane on a butt that Allen had already made so tender with the preliminary marathon spanking.

And then it was Rachel’s turn again to be stroked with the cane, and in the minute or less that it took Allen to lay three more stripes on her, Caroline wondered if he was being cruel or kind in splitting it up this way. Already, her body was sheened in a light sweat as she tried to cope with the agony flaring from her inflamed rump, and she’d only undergone a quarter of what was to happen to her while she was so docilely bent over this table in Rachel’s dungeon. But whether it was all too soon or too late, it was her turn again, she knew, as she heard Allen pacing around them, positioning himself to lay more strokes to her. Caroline tried to tighten her buttocks against the cane, even knowing that it would do her no good, and randomly reflected that she was glad there were no ginger figs about, as she’d read in some Victorian fiction, to ensure that she kept her buttocks relaxed in submission to her discipline. She heard a small grunt escape from Allen as he slung the cane in her direction, and heard the split-second of the cane cutting through the still air of the dungeon before making an innocent sound of impact on her buttocks, right in the midst of the existing welts. Caroline responded with a far less innocent sound of pain, yelping out her pain quite loudly, to her own consternation and embarrassment. She tightened her grip on Rachel’s hand, but tried not to hurt her friend this time as the cane struck her again, catching across the tops of her thighs. She cried out and felt tears dripping down her cheeks, and knew that sitting tomorrow would be a little experience in hell. Indeed, the drive home tonight was bound to be terribly displeasing, she knew, as the cane laid into her a third time, punctuated with her shameless screaming in agony as her hand clenched mercilessly in Rachel’s.

And then it was Rachel’s turn once more, and Allen laid another three ruthless strokes on her butt, still quietly presented in stock-stillness to his discipline, her only outward sign of discomfort the quiet hissing, and the tight squeezing of Caroline’s hand. Altogether, Rachel’s performance was shaming to Caroline, and she struggled in that moment to find the resolve to suffer her discipline with Rachel’s resolve, but she knew that would be a losing battle tonight, although she promised herself she’d do better on the next two sets than the last one, or beg Master to redo her caning. She wouldn’t allow herself to be a disappointment to him in any venue of her service to him, in or out of the office.

She heard him walking around, positioning himself to whip her another set, and took a deep breath, holding it while she waited for the stripes that were sure to come. Her tactic had amused Allen, who meanly waited several seconds for her to exhale, knowing she couldn’t hold her breath forever. Indeed, Caroline had a hell of a hard time holding her breath as long as she did. It wasn’t that she was out of shape, or that she was a heavy smoker or had some other difficulties with her health, but simply that she was in a lot of pain, and her heart was pounding faster in response to the dump of adrenaline into her bloodstream, and her heart was demanding more air, and right this second. And then, the second she exhaled, before she had the chance to inhale, Allen struck with the cane, and Caroline made a pained inward gasp as she desperately gulped air into her lungs, panting like a dog in August. Her body shivered as her mind fought in internal war, one part of it demanding that she get her ass off this table and run for her life, and another only very slightly stronger part insisting that she remain in place and face her discipline as a good slave ought to do. She wanted to scream, to curse, to spin around and kill Allen for doing this to her, but she only viciously squeezed Rachel’s right hand in her left, and waited for the remaining two lashes in this set, which came spaced perhaps twenty seconds apart, forcing her to endure every nuance of the agony the cane could impart. She could feel her butt throbbing rapidly, in time with her pounding heart. Jesus H. Christ, she raged inside herself. Nine down and but three to go. She hoped she could take the last three just a bit better. Already, she knew this caning would remind her for far longer than his little out-of-town trip of just what her place was in this relationship. Her butt was a flaring mess of sheer agony, and she wondered how awful it looked. She decided to take a peek in a mirror before she got out of here tonight. She wondered if her skin was broken. She was surprised to find herself hoping that she was bleeding some. It would be almost a badge of honor to her if it was, a silent testimony that she had walked through the fire, and had the wounds to show for it. This was an all-new thought to her, and it astounded her so much that she was surprised when Rachel’s hand relaxed in hers, the sign that all three of her last set of lashes had been laid on her skin.

She felt the light touch of the cane on her butt as Allen measured his aim one final time, and then sucked in a breath as she heard the cane cutting the air again on its way to her already-battered ass, exhaling in a gust as the impact set in, and the pain flared a split-second behind it. But she didn’t cry out this time, and was pleased with herself for that, even if she did have to fudge a bit to get the desired result. She did the same thing again as she heard the cane whistling its way toward her, and gusted out a blast of hot breath as the second of this final three strokes crashed into her, but this time she whimpered some as her hand clenched Rachel’s once more, and the pain washed through her in huge red waves of searing agony. She desperately tried to brace herself for the last lash in the seconds she had before it came, but her attempts were in vain, and she shamed herself by screaming loudly and writhing painfully on the table, sliding around some on her sweat-slickened belly, her teeth grinding together as her tears ran in buckets down her face. She got herself under control again after three or four seconds, and forced herself to go limp and still as she heard Allen setting the cane aside, and saw more flashes of light as he evidently photographed the results of their dual beatings.

Caroline found herself then in a bit of a moral and ethical dilemma. She was pretty well disgusted with herself for the childish way she’d acted while Allen whipped her, especially in light of Rachel’s stoicism to an identical beating. She had promised herself she’d beg Allen to redo the beating, but was having enormous difficulty finding the nerve to follow through on that promise, even knowing that she’d hate herself if she didn’t do so.

“You to may come off the table and kneel before me,” Allen finally remarked. Caroline was at least a bit pleased to see that Rachel was in a good deal of pain too as she grunted her way into a standing position, and Caroline was likewise gratified to see that Rachel was pretty sweaty too. At least she wasn’t the stone statue that Caroline was starting to worry about. They both stood on wobbly legs, and then Caroline followed Rachel’s lead in kneeling before Allen, standing upright on her knees before her master. Rachel took Allen’s right hand in hers, and kissed it tenderly, then looked up to him and said, “thank you, Master. I won’t forget my place in your absence, Sir.”

“You’re welcome, Rachel,” he said. “I’m certain your conduct while I’m gone will be pleasing to me.”

“Master, I also thank you,” Caroline said, kissing his hand as did Rachel a moment before. “And I’ll also remember my place while you’re away, Sir.”

“You’re welcome, Caroline,” Allen said. “And I know you’ll be as pleasing to me as will Rachel.”

“Master, I acted shamefully while you were giving me my discipline,” Caroline said, surprised that the words just tumbled out of her mouth, seemingly unbidden. “I deserve it for you to lay more lashes on me until I can suffer your dozen in silence, Sir, and I’d be pleased if you’d do so, to teach me to behave properly for your discipline and justice.”

“You really want more lashes,” he asked, his surprise obvious in his tone of voice.

“No, Sir, I don’t want more lashes,” Caroline replied truthfully. “But I deserve them, and perhaps I even need them, Master.” Caroline cast her eyes downward some, and was surprised to see a lump growing behind Allen’s zipper. She kept the surprise off her face, as well as the sudden lust that surprised her as well. Knowing she’d excited him sexually by her request was somehow very pleasing and reciprocally exciting to her.

“Reposition yourself on the table,” Allen commanded. “Rachel, get cuffs and secure her in position. I’ll return in a few moments.”

“Yes, Master,” both women replied in unison as Allen spun on one heel and left through the main door to the house.

“Jesus, have you lost your mind in here,” Rachel asked, incredulous, as Caroline lay back over the table, positioning herself once again for the cane as her heart pounded loudly in her ears.

“I think I may have done exactly that,” Caroline remarked. “But I really am ashamed of acting so childishly just then. I should take my lashings as well as you take yours, Rachel.”

“I have far more practice,” Rachel said in a sour tone as she deftly secured cuffs to Caroline’s ankles and wrists, drawing her wrists tightly to opposing legs of the table with long braided ropes that had almost no stretch factor in them. Her ankles were tied together, and the ropes drawn to the opposite legs, keeping her legs tightly bound to one another. Rachel added to this by wrapping her thighs in rope, just above the knees, making sure her thighs were presented to the cane as one long and slender target. “Jesus, your ass is already a swollen mess,” she went on. “You’re bleeding in two spots back here, Caroline. He really went rough on you.”

“I don’t think he went harder on me than he did on you,” Caroline answered. “I don’t like this, but I’m at peace with it, at least until he gets back in here and resumes,” she added with dark humor. “Wish me luck.”

Caroline was surprised when she felt Rachel’s lips on her back, between her shoulder blades, kissing her ever so gently. “I’m very much hoping you take them all in silence the first try,” Rachel said. “I won’t wish you luck, but some strength and guts, okay?”

“That’s even better,” Caroline said, touched. “Thank you, Rachel.”

“You’re welcome,” Rachel said, as she let her fingers lightly caress Caroline’s battered butt, which was at the same time comforting, arousing and scary, since even this hurt some. “I hear him coming down the hall,” she then said, and returned to the kneeling position where she’d been when Allen left moments before.

“Master, Caroline is in position and restrained, as ordered,” Rachel said when Allen walked back into the dungeon. “She awaits your pleasure, Sir.”

“Very good,” Allen said. “You may stand if you wish, Rachel. I’m certain your knees would prefer that.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Rachel said, then came to her feet.

“Caroline, I’ve considered your request, and it has a bit of merit, but I think you’re overly enthusiastic about proving yourself, and you’re letting your guilt feelings override your better sensibilities about this,” Allen announced. “I’m not as disappointed in your performance just now as you were, although I’ll grant that you could have, perhaps should have, performed better under the cane. But it hurt a lot, and it was supposed to hurt a lot. Believe me, the first time I caned Rachel, she was a screeching train wreck before I was done with her, and she had the good sense not to ask me to lay extra lashes on her, at least, not until I’d come back from that trip and had a bit more time and patience to train her with the cane. So here’s what I plan to do, Caroline. I’m going to lay six strokes on you, and you’ll be expected to take them without an outcry of pain. If you succeed, we’re done beating you this evening. If you make too much noise, and by that, I mean anything exceeding a whimper, you’ll be given another six lashes. You can scream as much as you want to for those, because I won’t give you more lashes tonight, although I will consider training you on my return as I did Rachel way back when. Do we understand each other, Caroline?”

“Yes, Master,” Caroline said. “Thank you, Sir. I’ll work hard not to displease you.”

“I’m going to be a bit more fair and lenient with you,” he went on. “I’m going to give you a few minutes to get your nerve together, and I’m going to leave Rachel here with you if you need her advice or support. But when I return, there will be no more waiting or delays. It’ll be six lashes, or twelve, without mercy.”

“Thank you again, Master,” Caroline said, quivering. Somehow, this announcement, his carrot-and-stick, made things even harder for her to face, but face it she would, and she redoubled her determination not to shame herself, or her master, with more childish outbursts. She somehow felt a bit better knowing that once upon a time, Rachel had endured similar difficulties with the cane. It made Rachel seem less superhuman, somehow, and made Caroline feel a bit less unworthy of her place here. She wondered if that was wishful thinking or if she was on the money, and knew she couldn’t ask. She’d be told, or not told, and would have to live with it one way or another.

“You have guts,” Rachel said with a slight tone of admiration in her voice. “I don’t think you’re terribly long on smarts, but you’re a gutsy one, Caroline.”

“He had to train you too,” Caroline asked.

“And how,” Rachel answered. “It was three weeks of hell before I earned my spurs with regard to the cane. Do you want to hear about it?”

“Maybe it’ll help me understand what’s coming my way,” Caroline said. “I don’t know if surprises are such a good thing in this venue.”

“Good point,” Rachel conceded. “Well, the first time Master decided he was going to give me a going-away-present caning like this, it wasn’t pretty. You took yours just then a lot better than I took it back when. I screamed and howled like a banshee, and he had to stop and tie me down so I’d hold still. I was certain that he was Lucifer himself, risen from the lowest pits of hell and reeking of brimstone, and I think I said something to that effect. No, let’s be honest here. I wailed it at the top of my lungs while I prayed that I’d just fall into unconsciousness, or maybe die before he was done. I was a bit of a drama queen, I’m afraid.”

“That’s hard to imagine,” Caroline said, stifling a giggle at the thought of self-possessed Rachel having such a tantrum.

“Not for me, it isn’t,” Rachel said. “Caroline, I get the idea that I impress you somehow with my submission and resolve, and it’s an undeserved impression.”

“But you take it, and you take it well,” Caroline objected.

“That’s called experience,” Rachel shot back. “And you’ll gain that in time, Caroline. I wasn’t born this way, and neither did it automatically come with Master’s collar when he took me as his. And I’d imagine that if he didn’t lay a finger on me for three months, I’d be back to responding to the lash as badly as I did in the beginning, which is one hell of a lot worse than you’ve done tonight. That cane fucking hurts, Caroline, and it’s not shameful to admit it. If it didn’t hurt, it wouldn’t be terribly effective in its purpose, now would it?”

“Point taken,” Caroline said, surprised at Rachel’s forthrightness. She’d always taken Rachel to be rather prideful, but Rachel was taking pains to reassure Caroline that they were both equally human, and that perhaps Caroline’s base makeup was of sterner stuff than her own. It was a deeply surprising thought, Caroline found, and not at all unpleasant to her suffering ego.

“So when he got home from that trip, he told me I’d be spending my nights at his house, or he’d be spending his nights at mine for the immediate future,” Rachel continued, telling a tale well-remembered. “And he trained me to accept the cane.”

“How did he do that,” Caroline asked, deciding she perhaps needed to know this information. If it had worked on Rachel, it would likely work on Caroline, and she knew that Allen believed in results. So Rachel’s long-ago fate was perhaps very likely to be Caroline’s as well, she knew.

“Every morning, before I even got to go pee, he caned me a dozen strokes,” Rachel recalled. “Every afternoon when we got home from work, it was another dozen. If I cried out during either event, I got an additional dozen at bedtime that evening. If I cried out both times, there was a dozen waiting for me over the weekend. He told me that if my performance during the week was satisfactory, I’d be excused from being trained on Saturday and Sunday, but that any additional strokes I had coming would be laid on me on a schedule of four times on each of those days until I’d paid the price.”

“Jesus,” Caroline breathed in horror at the very thought, wondering if this was to be her fate when he returned from Minnesota.

“That first four days, I couldn’t get through four lashes without howling like I’d been set on fire,” Rachel said. “So by that first weekend, I had eight sessions coming my way, four on Saturday and another four on Sunday. Thank God I got through Friday and only cried out on the morning whipping, and not the other two, so I didn’t have a carry-over to the following weekend. I didn’t get through the weekend very well, though. I screamed on two of the whippings on Saturday and three of them on Sunday, which were carried over to the next weekend. Imagine that, Caroline. I had a second week of whippings coming my way, and was already due for five of them the next weekend before I’d gotten the first stripe laid on me on that second Monday.”

“Sounds like you were trying to stay ahead of an avalanche,” Caroline remarked, feeling her heart pounding and her buttocks tightening at the thought.

“Very much so,” Rachel said. “But he told me on Sunday night that I was going to get a three-day break, so my butt could heal some. I was pretty badly marked up, as I’m sure you can imagine. I still had to spend my nights with him, though, or he was coming here. That was bad too, actually, because he added a wrinkle to things. He had at his place a big dog kennel, one of those things you can buy at Tractor Supply, made of chain link fencing, oh, about six feet by six, and covered with more chain link. He tossed a mattress into it in his guest bedroom, and I had to sleep in there when I was at his place. And then he bought another one to bring over here, and made me sleep in the same sort of thing here, until I was trained. It made for one hell of a strong incentive in its own right.

“My objective, he told me, was to get through five days in a row of whippings without an outcry, at which point he’d declare me to be properly trained,” Rachel continued. “And believe me, sleeping in that cage, like some sort of an animal that probably needed housebreaking, was a strong incentive in its own right. That was humiliating to me, Caroline.”

“And I’m sure it’ll be no better for me,” Caroline answered in a glum tone.

“Only time will tell,” Rachel said. “And right now, what may or may not happen next week is immaterial. What may or may not happen in five minutes is far more important, honey.”

“I don’t know what got into me,” Caroline said. “Did I lose my mind?”

“No,” Rachel said. “You just got a good dose of integrity. Sometimes that can bite you on the ass, but more often than not, you wind up glad that you have the integrity.”

“It’s cold comfort right now, when I’m about to be given more lashes because of my automatic mouth,” Caroline said. “But I guess you’re right. I wouldn’t want to live with myself if I was some snotty bitch without a conscience, just trying to take the easy path all the time.”

“Then buck up and face these lashes well,” Rachel said, leaning down to give Caroline one final tender kiss as Allen opened the door, entering with a cane already in hand. Rachel stepped aside as Allen wordlessly took his position behind and to the left of Caroline, once more lightly touching her skin with the cane, gauging his aim. Then, still without any words offered, he reared back and instantly slashed the cane into her pre-beaten rump, the first of this set of six lashes. To Caroline, the pain was intense, like he’d put a runner of Napalm across her ass and set the match to it. But she held her tongue, and kept her outraged scream of agony locked ruthlessly in her chest, only uttering a tiny grunt that was barely audible even to her as her mind was seized by the pain that coursed relentlessly through her body.

For his part, Allen was already impressed with Caroline, since he had been certain he’d have broken her resolve and her pride with the first of these six, and would then go on to punctuate this lesson eleven more times. He’d already decided that no matter how she performed on these six lashes, that he’d do some training with her soon after his return. It would be good for her to be taught some lessons in humiliation, obedience and endurance, he reasoned, and perhaps it would likewise benefit Rachel to have to spend a week or two taking a back seat to Caroline, a silent reminder to her that despite her value to him, she was still only property, to be treated or ignored as he pleased. He reared back, unsure if he was pleased or disappointed with Caroline’s newfound stoicism, and laid a second lash, even harder than the first, this one catching the tops of her thighs, which he knew were ever so sensitive to pain. The welt from this lash started rising instantly to mark the outrage of the high-speed impact of the rattan on such tender white flesh.

It was all Caroline could do to keep quiet for this second searing brand of agony from her new master and his evil rattan rod. Indeed, it was all she could do to remain conscious, so intense was the pain that overtook her, and instead of screaming, she bit hard on her tongue, and soon tasted the sickening metallic flavor of her own blood leaking into her mouth. But it re-centered her on how she needed to perform, and she slowly and calmly loosened the tension in her body. She’d been coiled like a spring ready for action, and she knew she needed to take this in as limp and submissive a posture as she could arrange. She not only wanted to suffer these lashes in silence, but to prove to Allen that she would be utterly submissive to anything he chose to inflict on her.

Rachel was likewise very impressed with Caroline’s new performance, and felt a touch of jealousy as she noted the lump behind Allen’s zipper, knowing she wasn’t the one who put that lump there, or even helped in the process. No, this erection he was getting was all Caroline’s doing, and while Rachel inwardly saluted her for her courage and resolve, she also stewed with a bit of the green-eyed monster’s anger at Caroline riding on what she’d long considered her own range. She wondered what this all meant, and she also knew that it was incumbent on her to confess all to Allen for his decision and judgement. But not tonight, she decided. He’d be back soon enough, and Rachel swore to herself that she would come to him with a full confession as soon as possible on his return, and would face whatever music he decreed necessary. Meanwhile, she also promised herself that she would treat Caroline no differently. After all, this wasn’t Caroline’s fault so much as her very own, yes? Allen would never have taken Caroline into this kind of submission if I’d just kept my mouth shut, she said to herself as she watched the third lash cut through the wind and collide brutally with the middle of the redhead’s buttocks. Again, there was an enormous welt to offer silent testimony, and not even a peep from Caroline, who may as well have been a rag-doll for all the reaction she offered. Yes, Rachel decided, Caroline was doing very well, and had just raised the bar for both of them. It was a bit dismaying, she found on reflection, but she’d take whatever her master dished out to her, and show her gratitude for it all, because even when he’d done things to her that she hated, she’d come to find that they were for her own betterment, and even if she wasn’t grateful in the moment, she was ultimately delighted with him for what he did to her.

By now, Caroline had decided to focus all her pain into her hands, and as the pain rose, she clenched her fists viciously tight, focusing on the stinging of her fingernails driving into her palms, and ignoring the fact that her hands were likely to be painful for a couple days to follow. Right now, any diversion from the burning agony of the lashes being laid to her ass was welcomed with open arms. She clenched her eyes shut in preparation as she heard the cane cutting through the air for the fourth time, and tightly clenched her fists as the stripe was laid, as the welt grew, and as the pain enveloped her, seeming to overtake her body from the focal point of her ass, perhaps two inches above her thighs. She’d honestly rather be taken back to Mexico and horsewhipped than to have to face this caning, she knew, but that probably meant the caning was good for her, a challenge to her devotion, so to speak. From the fires of the forge comes the finest steel, as the saying goes. And God alone knew her ass right now felt like it was hot enough to hammer on an anvil.

Somehow, she kept silent as the pain crested and then abated some, but the abatement only lasted a second before Allen sent the fifth lash flying into her butt, just beneath the last one, and her entire body involuntarily clenched as she helplessly fought her bonds before her resolve reasserted itself, forcing her to be still, to patiently wait for her master’s discipline, which she reminded herself in sharp terms she so obviously deserved. Her butt felt like a swollen mess, and she was dreading examining the damage in a mirror, but there was still one more lash left if she could hold her resolve, or seven if she abandoned herself right now. She took a deep breath and let it out, and as the last of the air left her lungs, the cane whistled home, striking its hardest blow of the night as Allen issued the strongest challenge of the evening, trying to break her.

Allen was an unrepentant sadist. He didn’t get aroused when laying a punishment, because that wasn’t for fun by any measure, but this wasn’t a punishment so much as a disciplinary action, reminding the girls who was their master. Also, for him, it was arousing beyond compare when Caroline so willingly begged him to lay more lashes to her tonight, giving herself to him fully for his pleasure, so to speak. He found that he wanted to give her more lashes, to show her that he could and would break her as he pleased, and was surprised that he hadn’t done so in these five lashes. But fair was fair, and he wouldn’t whip her more tonight if she got through all six strokes without an outcry, although he meant to do his best on this final lash to make her scream to the heavens for his mercy, which would not be forthcoming. He also meant to screw her, and screw her very hard, once the whipping was done, as her reward for the gift she had made to him of herself. And so he laid the sixth lash as viciously as he was able to do, aiming low, wanting her to be pained by this lashing for at least the time he’d be gone, and hopefully for a couple days after his return.

As it turned out, if this was a contest, it was one that Caroline handily won. She absorbed this lash in utter stillness and silence, and didn’t even clench her fists this time, only letting the pain of the last lash of the night flow through her, hopefully strengthening her to face whatever trials lay ahead in her future. She was weakened by the pain, and that also helped her to endure the lash in silence. She was too exhausted to make a big production of things, to put a point on it. Her hair was soaked in sweat, and sweat was running off of her in small rivers, despite the fact that this dungeon was actually a slight bit on the cooler side of things.

“She did well,” Caroline heard Allen remark to Rachel after the camera flashed three more times, illuminating the walls. “She did very well indeed. Remove her cuffs and bring her to me.”

Allen left as Rachel undid Caroline’s cuffs. “He’s very proud of you,” Rachel said, truthfully. “You did way better than I thought you would. Hell, you did better than I think I could’ve done, come to think of it.”

“Thanks,” Caroline said weakly in a hoarse and whispery voice. “Would it be okay if I got something to drink? I’m parched here.”

“That’s no surprise,” Rachel said. “You’ve been sweating like we locked you up in a sauna. And I don’t think Master will object to you getting some refreshment. You need to revive some, because I’m pretty sure he’s about to give you a hard screwing up there.” Rachel grinned, and despite her jealousy, felt her own arousal at the thought of watching Allen molest Caroline. She made a bet with herself that Caroline would sleep like the dead tonight in a postcoital coma. “Let’s get you upstairs, and then I’ll bring some water to you. Can you stand okay?”

“If you’ll help,” Caroline said, embarrassed that the lashing had so weakened her. Rachel helped Caroline to stand, and held her gently in her arms while strength slowly returned to Caroline’s legs. “How bad is my ass right now,” she asked after a moment.

“I’ve seen worse, but there’s no question you’ve had a hell of a whipping tonight,” Rachel said, then let Caroline out of her embrace and turned around to display her own battered ass to her friend. “Mine is in far better shape than yours. I’ll put it that way.”

“Jesus,” Caroline said, her eyes welded to the welts and bruises that were purple in some places on her friend’s rump. She also was surprised to find that seeing Rachel’s marks were darkly exciting to her. A freshly whipped submissive, well-marked by the lash, was something sexy to Caroline’s eyes. She’d spent more than one night on the Internet looking at such photos, and being turned on by them, letting them fuel her own masturbations these last three years. While most of those photos were faked, she was sure, the imagery still was strong to her heart. Right then, she knew that seeing her own marks was going to excite her even more than seeing Rachel’s, and she was suddenly anxious to see the damage her master had done prior to the reward she was certain to get in bed with him. “Is there a mirror around here where I can look at my marks?”

“We can do better than that,” Rachel said, and reached for the camera that Allen had set aside. She removed the disk from it, and Caroline followed her unsteadily through her living room to her home office, where Rachel loaded the disk onto her computer, and brought up her graphic program to show Caroline her marks. “Holy shit, he really worked me over,” Caroline breathed after a moment’s examination of the photographs. Her ass was in far worse shape than Rachel’s, and the swelling she felt was easily seen in the photos that Allen had shot.

“You got one hell of a whipping,” Rachel confirmed. “I’m going to email these to you later tonight. We’ll want to talk some about this later, but we don’t want to keep Master waiting, because you really don’t want to return to the dungeon for a punishment tonight, do you?”

“God no,” Caroline said in horror. “Where is Master?”

“Upstairs, in the master bedroom, no pun intended,” Rachel grinned. “Can you manage the stairs?”

“Just so long as I can hold onto the banister.”

“Let’s go, then,” Rachel said, and led Caroline upstairs to their master, who was just starting to become impatient with the wait.

Caroline -- Part Eighteen

As things turned out, it wasn't a bad day, and was certainly eye-opening for Caroline, as she was given an assignment to do several business follow-ups, studying how several deals were structured and learning how the company did business, and sought new business. She went and had lunch with Joel at a local IHOP, and listened impassively as he ranted about Rachel, whom he apparently despised nearly as much as he feared her. Caroline made a mental note to find out more about this, and found herself personally in something of a quandary about the rant. Did she tell Allen and Rachel about this, or did she keep her own counsel and Joel's confidence? The complication for her was that her relationship with Allen, and with Rachel, went outside the office too, and she was emotionally attached to both of them, obviously. She was bright enough to know that she couldn't afford to get labeled by the A-Team as the bossman's (or his henchwoman's, for that matter) snitch, because any effectiveness she would have there would be cast out the window as though it was never there. But she was also well aware that if Joel's conversation with her came to light, Allen would certainly, and perhaps even rightly, see her silence as a display of disloyalty.

But then she decided that Rachel and Allen were both smart people, and that Joel hadn't indicated any intention of harming the company in any way, or even doing Rachel any harm. He just hated her ass, and in Caroline's experience, such feelings were usually mutual. She did decide, coldly, that if Joel rode off the range in any way whatsoever, Allen would hear it from her that instant, though. Her loyalties were to the company, and to Allen and Rachel, and so she set her unease aside.

"--car," Joel said, and Caroline jerked some, embarrassed that she had been wool-gathering while he talked merrily away.

"I beg your pardon," she asked.

"I asked if they've made arrangements for a company car for you," he said, smiling. "To give the devil his due, Allen takes good care of the A-Team people, and the bonuses and pay are pretty good. One of the perks is a company car, which gets replaced annually. I'm surprised they didn't tell you."

"Things have been hectic lately," Caroline said. "I guess that got overlooked in the mix. They're supposed to give me a clothing allowance, though."

"Yes," he smiled. "When I got promoted to the A-Team, I didn't even own a fucking necktie, so they cut me a check and told me to go buy no less than ten new suits, with shirts and ties. I had to go to my parents' house to get my dad to teach me how to tie a tie, even. I've been on the A-Team for three years now, and there's been an annual clothing allowance to go with the Christmas bonus checks. The only thing with the allowance is that we have to prove we indeed spent at least ninety percent of that money on business clothing, but it at least keeps us from looking like failed Fuller Brush salesmen when we have to go meet with clients and all."

"Why the company car," Caroline asked, surprised that Allen's Lexus was owned by the company. "It seems awfully excessive to spend that kind of money, no matter how nice the cars are."

"Allen's philosophy is that if you want to succeed, you have to look the part," Joel explained. "So he has us dress for success, and puts us in cars that make us look successful, and you know, he's right in his philosophy, Caroline. People see someone and decide in that first second if this is a winner or a loser, and we mostly only want to do business with winners. When you get sent out to meet a client, you want that son of a bitch impressed with you in every way, and you'll find out he cooperates better with you for that."

"Any recommendations on a car," Caroline asked.

"Just get the top-of-the-line model of whatever you buy," Joel suggested. "Honestly, I could take or leave the Lexus, but they're high-dollar cars that only rich pricks and drug dealers usually drive, and I think I don't quite look like the drug dealer at a kindergarten near you."

"Good point," Caroline laughed. The hell of it was, she liked Joel, despite his hatred for Rachel. He seemed like a helluva nice guy, and she wondered again what was at the bottom of his dispute with her.

"Make sure you ask him about that when you get back to the office," Joel said. "I saw that piece of shit you drove to work today, and that's just not going to cut it."

"It's seen its better days, for sure," Caroline said, trying to not feel embarrassed. She'd bought the Honda secondhand, or maybe fifth or even sixth-hand, with over one hundred thousand miles on the clock already, but it was cheap, and all she'd ever wanted was a transportation car anyway. She'd often reflected that she spent more every year on liability insurance for the car than the car was worth, but she had to have a car. Public transportation was a joke in this part of the country.

"Once it's time to trade it off, if you want, Allen will let you buy the car," Joel said. "The first one I had, I bought from the company, and my daughter drives it. It's a pretty nice Land Rover, and Allen lets us buy them with a one percent interest loan. Most of the A-Team's spouses are in our grounded company cars. I suppose if I still had a wife, she'd be in the Land Rover and my daughter would be in a junker like your little Honda."

"You're divorced," Caroline asked.

"I divorced her after she went to prison," he said, matter-of-factly, not offering more details.

"I see," Caroline said, feeling inane. She obviously didn't see a damn thing. She had a natural curiosity that was craving satisfaction, but she wasn't about to look nosy or intrusive by playing Twenty Questions with Joel. If he wanted her to know the details, he'd tell her. Elsewise, he would not, and it was none of her business one way or another.

The balance of the afternoon went quickly enough, and at five o'clock, Caroline hopped into her rattletrap car and headed over to Rachel's house, as directed. Rachel was just getting out of her own car as Caroline pulled into her drive, and she waved Caroline into the house. Rachel went to the bathroom and then sped through the kitchen to fetch them each a bottle of Coke, and in moments they were on the road to the shopping mall. By the time the mall closed at nine that evening, they'd completed one hell of a mission, and Caroline had clothes like she'd never had before in her life, as well as shoes and other accessories, and her feet were as sore as she could ever remember. Rachel had also bought Caroline, from her own pocket, some work clothes and work boots, along with a couple changes of simple clothing that would go to her own house for those times when Caroline would need clothes.

Rachel suggested that they drive straight to Caroline's house so that she could help Caroline get everything moved in, and Caroline was only too happy for the assistance. Rachel, of course, was genuinely happy to help, but she also wanted a peek into Caroline's home, to see how the little three-bedroom tract house, built in 1966, was being laid out and utilized. She had her reasons for this, beyond mere nosiness.

Caroline's house was well-maintained, Rachel saw, but terribly small, as was the custom of the time when it was built. She could look up and down Caroline's street and see exactly five different house plans, despite different facades and decorations. Two of the house plans, she was certain, were merely mirror-imaged. Caroline's garage was a two-car model, attached to the house, and containing junk from corner to corner, but for her washer and dryer. A pity, Rachel reflected. It would've made a nice dungeon for her house, and would have cost little to have arranged, but like most Americans, Caroline had a garage full of shit that would need to be thrown out or stored elsewhere, and she would probably oppose that. Well, Rachel decided, there were other options. She'd just have to go to the hall of records and get the blueprints to Caroline's house. They were a matter of public record, after all, but having eyeballs on the house helped her as much as anything.

Fifteen years before, Rachel had been about to embark on her last semester of college, and had been an architecture major at the University of Texas, when her parents decided to come visit her over the Christmas holidays. They didn't survive the trip, having been clobbered by a dump truck before they even got out of town. This left Rachel with a younger brother and sister to raise, and no other family, and so she had to drop out of school to handle feeding and raising them. She promised herself that she'd go back and complete her degree, but life broke that promise as surely as a crystal glass hurled into a stone hearth. On the upside, her brother Tommy got through UT's school of business with his MBA and was making good money working for Exxon in Houston, and her sister Jeanette got a degree in psychology and was now a major in the Army, doing some sort of psy-ops work that she couldn't talk about to Rachel. But that last semester of school mattered little to Rachel, who had designed her own house, and built it from scratch over three years with local help. It was the only way she could have afforded such a palace, despite the fact that Allen paid her quite well. She'd also designed an enormous house for Allen, and it was going to be underway as soon as he found the right patch of land for it.

And so, retrofitting Caroline's house with a dungeon wouldn't really be a challenge at all to Rachel's talents or imagination. She had a few ideas and would just need to monkey around with her CAD program for a while, and then would see what Allen and Caroline thought of the idea. Even if Caroline parted company from them, which was obviously altogether possible, at least they'd have left her with the gift of a nice dungeon to use with whoever came in her future. It seemed a nice gesture, and Rachel figured it could be done for far less money than they'd spent on clothes at the mall.

"You're also getting a company car," Rachel remarked to Caroline as they got back into her Honda for the ride home. "Stop by my office tomorrow and we'll give you the specifications. Find the one you want and bring us a salesman's card and the VIN number of the car you want, and we'll have it in the parking lot by close of business on Friday, okay?"

"Okay," Caroline said. "Joel had mentioned something about a company car, but I didn't know if I'd qualify for one, considering my status."

"Joel's an ass," Rachel remarked as Caroline's eyebrows rose. "But he's right. You get a company car if you're on the A Team, Caroline, and so far as anyone's concerned but Allen, you just got a huge promotion, and you'll be treated like anyone else there, because you really did earn his trust and faith. Also, be at my house tomorrow night at nine o'clock after you've done your car shopping. Allen wants you there, and so do I."

"Okay," Caroline said, wondering what the heck kind of car she was going to get now, and what to do with her Honda. After she dropped Rachel off at her house, she drove back home and studied the manuals for a while, but was sound asleep by midnight.

Caroline -- Part Seventeen

Caroline was on the whipping post again in Mexico, but this time, her back was to it, and she was facing outwards, tightly and helplessly bound to the heavy post. She could feel the rough wood on her back, a few splinters poking into fresh whip marks, but she was filled with competing emotions of desire and dread. The only light on this starry night was from a fire blazing forty or so feet from where she stood, and she could make out Rachel and her master in silhouette.

"Who owns you, slave," she heard Allen say in a thunderous voice, like he was Thor, the Norse god of thunder.

"You own me, Master," Caroline replied, feeling at peace with his ownership, but still feeling some unnamed dread that she couldn't quite identify.

"And I plan to own you for the rest of your life, Caroline," Allen said, his voice still thundering, as if from far above, filling her. She really couldn't make out his face as he approached her in the starry night with the flickering fire backlighting him, but then she felt her hair being pulled from behind, and felt cold steel on her neck as he snapped a collar in place on her. "And this collar will go with you to your grave, slave," he said.

"Oh, God," Caroline moaned. "Thank you, Master."

"We're not quite done yet, Caroline," Allen boomed at her as Rachel's grasp in her hair tightened. Caroline watched as he walked away from her to the fire, and returned with a branding iron, a brightly glowing representation of his initials, presumably the brand that had been placed on Rachel's chest in a long-ago ceremony perhaps much like this one. Caroline's eyes widened and she could hear her heart pounding forcefully and rapidly in her ears as her breathing quickened and deepened, bracing herself for the burn that was to be hers in mere seconds now. And then the brand sunk into her skin, right above the valley of her breasts, and Caroline screamed to the heavens, and her scream woke her from her nap on the sofa in her living room, where she'd fallen sound asleep reading one of the manuals sent home with her.

She was in a cold sweat, but was also dismayed that the dream had ended, and she knew that she wanted to go through the rite of passage that had just played so vividly in her dreams. She spied her clock on the living room wall, and saw it was nearly four in the morning, and as her poor mind came to a fully conscious state, she realized the last time she'd noticed the time before she fell to sleep was at around midnight. She stood from the sofa and groaned as stiffness and soreness asserted themselves in her exhausted body. The sofa was hell on her for sleeping, at least in the awkward position in which she had slept. She went to the kitchen for some water, and drank the glass down, then went to the bathroom and stumbled off to bed, where she knew nothing more until her alarm jarred her awake at six-thirty. She showered and got dressed, leaving a bit early so she could find some powerful coffee for the drive into the office. She suspected she'd need it, with the day ahead and the shopping to follow.

Caroline -- Part Sixteen

If asked Caroline would have said she remained in this position, untouched, for an hour, perhaps two or three hours. She would also have said she was as alone as a person ever could be, and while that may have been true emotionally, she never knew that Rachel was sitting on a bench not five feet from her the whole while, observing, for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was Caroline's safety. But Rachel was also highly attracted to Caroline, which surprised her. Caroline had habitually dressed in rather frumpy clothes at work (they'd have to do something about that soon, considering Caroline's new position and responsibilities), and her usual attire did nothing to hint at her very appealing figure. Rachel was also watching to see Caroline's reactions, from tension to relaxation as she got accustomed, however uneasily, to her new realm of helplessness.

The truth was that from the time Allen kissed her between the shoulders until he got to work on her in earnest, only thirteen minutes and ten seconds had elapsed by Rachel's watch before Allen returned pushing a rolling cart with a variety of fun little items, many of them prosaic little pervertibles that most people would never guess could be used in kinky enterprises. And so it was amusing and sexy all at once to hear Caroline squeak loudly when Allen trailed an ice cube down her spine, from the base of her neck all the way down the groove of her ass, taking his sweet time while she helplessly squirmed in her bonds. He dropped the remaining sliver of ice back in the bowl on the rolling cart and then produced another interesting little item, and trailed it across her shoulders as she madly guessed as to what the hard plastic object in his hand was, exactly. Her guesses were all wrong, as it turned out, and then she learned what it was as she felt a sudden flash of intense heat on her buttocks as Allen flicked the wheel and shot flame from the lighter onto her ass for just a split-second in time. Caroline, helpless, jerked and screeched as Allen set the lighter aside, turning to face Rachel as they both grinned broadly at one another.

Allen then nodded to Rachel and she quietly approached Caroline from her front, well aware that earplugs only did so much to dampen sound, and wanting these events to be surprising to her, to heighten their overall effect on the lovely redhead in their charge. And so, Allen held up one finger, then two, and then three, and on the stroke of three, Rachel sunk teeth and lips into Caroline's belly to put a long-lasting hickey there while Allen did the same to the nape of her neck, and Caroline gasped and cried out in passion and desire, gratifying them both.

Scarcely had the hickeys come to an end when Allen gave Caroline a couple of very hard spanks to her rump, starting a nice pink glow down there while Caroline moaned and gasped, teetering on the brink of a climax that would take only a feather's touch to send her flying into the orgasmic abyss. And then she felt a feathery tickle on her fiery pubic hair as Rachel gently blew on her, only stoking the fires hotter deep inside Caroline's libido. She uttered a moan that gave Rachel her own goosebumps while Allen smiled at her and then lightly traced his fingertips over Caroline's back, eliciting even more impassioned moans from a woman who dared not beg to be given her climax.

And then, Rachel's eyebrows rose in question and Allen shook his head, going to fetch a riding crop. He nodded to her and Rachel grasped Caroline's hips and sucked her clitoris into her mouth as Allen laid a half-dozen hard strokes to her butt with the crop. But Caroline scarcely noticed the lashes, and in seconds was screaming her way through an orgasm that felt like it was a sexual earthquake, starting from deep within her and rocking her world entirely. The cropping continued as Allen peppered her ass with the slapper tip, not particularly showing mercy to her, but by now, Caroline was in such a state that it only fueled the fires hotter and hotter as Rachel showed similar enthusiasm down south, soon sending her reeling into a second earth-shattering climax that had her in a swoon, barely keeping her feet beneath her. She was then aware of Rachel holding her in a close embrace as her arms were lowered and the handcuffs removed, and then she felt the spreader bar being removed as Rachel held her steady, knowing she was really unable to stand well on her own.

Caroline was aware of Rachel making soothing sounds to her, hearing her distantly through the earplugs, which were just the cheap foam-rubber kind available at most any job-site in the world. They'd dampen major sounds, and eliminate quiet ones, but wouldn't work, say, around jet aircraft on a tarmac. The purpose was to keep her in suspense until they had worked their will on her, and for that purpose, they served wonderfully. Caroline had never in her wildest dreams imagined such intensity in a scene with anyone, much less these two. She felt herself being led, she knew not where, nor did she really care, and then she was helped into a big bed and was cuddled closely between Allen and Rachel, who were both naked. Caroline had never in her life felt so safe or warm, and could have happily spent the rest of eternity right here like this.

She felt lips on her skin, and fingers caressing her skin while other fingers caressed her hair, and had no idea who was doing what to her, only that she loved it as she floated gently back to here and now. At long last, the earplugs came out and the first voice she heard was Allen's.

"You did very well, Caroline, but there's still more, isn't there," he asked, his voice making it clear that the question was rhetorical.

"Yes, Master," Caroline answered, unsure what was next, but somehow certain she was going to love it. She felt fingertips, Allen's, gliding down her belly to her pubis once again, and then felt his fingertip slip into her and start teasing her clitoris once more, bringing her quickly back into what could only be called a high state of rut. She wanted him not to make love to her, but to fuck her like they were Neanderthals mating in some prehistoric cave, perhaps with the walls decorated with primitive paintings of this conquest soon to follow.

He moved suddenly, and was between her thighs, grasping them in his hands and drawing her upward until he slid his erection into her, compressing her body enough to make her struggle some to breathe while Rachel stroked her hair and kissed her. Caroline had never before felt so utterly used as she was at this moment in time, and she loved it. Allen wasn't directing her to cum, or anything else, seemingly inside her only to please himself this time, fiercely thrusting in and out of her as she fought for breath and passionately returned Rachel's kisses all at once until her orgasm overtook her once more and she loosed a scream stifled by her compressed position, more of a high-pitched series of grunts while Allen delivered several more thrusts and then groaned loudly on his own as he came deeply inside her, his erection throbbing intensely while his body shuddered against her. And then he started thrusting again, apparently not wanting to waste anything that was left of his erection, and Caroline was soon on her way to yet another climax, panting in time with his trusts as she felt weaker and weaker in the throes of the evening's events. And then she came, and she came harder than all the others of the evening combined, her body locking tightly as she shuddered and convulsed, ultimately fainting for a few seconds as her mind and body were overwhelmed by her passions.

Consciousness returned soon enough, and she was aware of hands caressing her all over, tenderly stroking her, again making her feel safe and loved. At some point, one of them removed her blindfold as she lightly dozed, and perhaps an hour or so later, Rachel gently woke her, and then handed her a cup of coffee.

"It'd probably be a good idea for you to bring a couple changes of clothes over here," Rachel said, at the same time handing Caroline a cup of coffee that went down very well. "But while you were napping, I got you a few things to wear home, at least, nothing special."

"Thanks," Caroline said. "Where's Master?"

"He had to go to the can," Rachel said. "He'll be around in a moment. You were very pleasing to both of us just now, by the way. I think you can probably count on one or two invitations over here every week, and perhaps Master will seek an invitation to your house as well. It's powerful, at least to me, to be dominated in my own home and not someone else's, so to speak."

"I can imagine it would be," Caroline answered, never having considered this thought before. She'd bought her house after the split with her ex-master, and when they'd been together, she'd always gone to his place, which was bigger and nicer than her efficiency apartment at the time, and had all the toys lined out in a spare bedroom.

"We also need to go do some shopping," Rachel said, changing the subject. "So when you get off work tomorrow, come straight here, okay?"

"Okay," Caroline said, trying not to panic. "But you should know that I only have ninety dollars in my checking account to hold me to Friday, so I'm afraid it won't be much of a shopping excursion."

"You worry too much," Rachel said. "Tomorrow. Here. Five-thirty. Got it?"

"Okay," Caroline said, trying to not feel embarrassed at her relative poverty. She got out of bed and followed Rachel to Rachel's bedroom, where some clothes were laid out, albeit Rachel's clothes and not her own. Caroline was grateful that Rachel was a bit larger than she was, as she put on jeans with a waist a couple inches too big, and legs a couple inches too long. She rolled up the cuffs, and Rachel handed her her belt, which Allen had thoughtfully removed from her rather than chopping it with his evil-looking knife, that she was able to cinch tightly enough to keep the pants in place. She felt oddly like a little girl playing dress-up in her big sister's clothes, or perhaps her mom's, and this thought amused her for some reason as she put on an oversized tee-shirt. There were no underwear offered, which wouldn't have fit her in any event, and Rachel lastly handed Caroline her sandals, which also hadn't been cut away.

In the living room a moment later, Allen smiled at Caroline's comical appearance, but didn't offer any jokes at her expense, Caroline was grateful to note.

"When you get home tonight, do some reading in those manuals you got," Allen directed her. "Rachel's taking you shopping tomorrow so that you can get some more appropriate attire for the office. Don't worry, it's on the company, and it's not charity. Every member of the A-Team was promoted from jobs like yours, and so I've long had a policy of making a one-time disbursement of a chunk of change to get you the right clothing. There'll be a few other changes to come, but we'll get to those when we get to them."

"Yes, Sir," Caroline said, stifling a yawn. The events of the weekend, coupled with this Monday-evening dalliance, had sapped her energy.

"Go on home and we'll see you in the morning," Allen said, standing and kissing her tenderly. "Goodnight, honey."

"Goodnight, Master," Caroline said, and then gave Rachel a kiss as well, and trudged out the door, then drove home.