Okay, client profile number two coming right up. This one should be a lot easier to write without that nymphomaniac Frenchman Kingsley hanging around. Big mistake trying to write these files at Kingsley’s house. The man just cannot keep his nose out of my business sometimes. And by “nose” I, of course, mean “penis.” And by “my business” I mean...
Well, you know what I mean.
Hello, dear reader. I’ll assume that if you’re reading this file you’re also in Kingsley’s employ as either a pro-Dom or a pro-sub. He has some ridiculous notion that I am the greatest Dominatrix working today and that all pros can learn a thing or two from my interactions with clients. All right, maybe it isn’t that ridiculous. I’m pretty damn good at this. What can I say? I learned from the best. But the less said about Him the better.
Back on topic. As you know, Fellow Minions of Kingsley, this job we do is really just a job. Most days at least. We show up. We kick ass—or get our asses kicked...I’m not forgetting you cute little subs out there. We yell, we flog, we insult, we beat and bruise, and then we send them home happy and hand off our 15 percent to Kingsley.
But some days the job is more than a job. And those are either the best days or the worst days. Some days I’m less a Dominatrix and more a therapist. A lot of people come to me already broken and only by breaking them again can they finally heal right. I like those days, although they scare the shit out of me. You try never to take the job home with you.
Although, on rare occasions, you go home with the job.
Client: Robert Bruce, age 45.
Wife: Cara, age 36.
Robert came to The Mistress on a Thursday afternoon during her office hours. Kingsley had scoffed at the idea of a Dominatrix holding a weekly salon for her clients. Anything that involved kinky people in the same room together keeping their clothes on baffled his poor French brain. But The Mistress understood that the dynamics with her clients changed and their bonds strengthened when they could interact as Domme and sub without the erotic stress of a scene looming. The subs brought her their bruises for inspection and applause. The Doms came to learn her secrets. One hour a week could breed a lifetime of well-paid loyalty. The Mistress, as always, knew what she was doing.
When Robert entered the room—Kingsley’s private lounge on the first floor—The Mistress couldn’t quite discern exactly what he wanted from her. He stood in the corner and watched as The Mistress rubbed the shoulder of her favorite female submissive. Her Little Miss had played too hard with a sadist the night before and had a pulled muscle to prove it. The Mistress loved to coo over her broken-winged doves. This Little Miss melted into her hands as the sub regaled The Mistress with the story of last night’s erotic adventure. Robert listened attentively but without any discernable lascivious intentions. He had the posture and the bearing of a Dominant. He stood straight with his chin high, and at no point did he shrink from eye contact. Although the Little Miss at The Mistress’s feet told a lurid story of pain and passion—and some double penetration while suspended facedown from the ceiling, via a leather harness and some elaborate Kinbaku, i.e. Japanese rope bondage, see attached diagram—Robert never once batted an eyelash. The story neither repulsed nor astonished him. He listened as if he’d heard the tale before. Or perhaps even lived it.
Curiosity got the better of The Mistress and with a quick kiss, she sent her Little Miss on her way. Alone with Robert at last, she lounged back in the black-and-gold embroidered armchair, crossed one booted ankle over her bare thigh and waited for him to speak.
He clearly sensed her interest in him and withheld his words as he sat across from her on the low sofa by the quietly burning fireplace. A handsome man in his forties, he looked just enough like Denzel Washington that The Mistress rather hoped she was wrong about the whole Dom thing. Robert was new to The Mistress, but he must not have been new to Kingsley to be inside the inner sanctum.
“I’ve heard of you,” Robert said as he clasped his large, well-manicured hands by his knees.
“Who hasn’t?” The Mistress asked, giving him a smile.
He didn’t take the bait and flirt or flatter her. Her estimation of him, already fairly high, inched up further.
“My name is Robert Bruce. I need your help.”
“My name is Mistress Nora. I sell help.”
“I can pay.”
“I know you can. Otherwise King wouldn’t have let you in the door. Let’s talk about the situation first. I’ll write up the invoice later.”
Robert sighed and sat back on the sofa. A tall man, he carried himself with dignity, but still The Mistress sensed a struggle within him. Men often came to her at war with their consciences. Society had taught them, and rightly so in most instances, to never lay a hand on a woman. So when dark desires crept into their dreams, desires to tie up a woman and flog her or spank her, beat her and bruise her even as she begged for more...they came to The Mistress for absolution. Absolution wasn’t her area. But she could show them how to throw a flogger like a pro and that was the next best thing.
“I’m married,” Robert finally said.
“My sympathies.”
He laughed then, a rich warm laugh, and The Mistress wrinkled her nose at him by way of apology.
“I actually like being married, Mistress. Love it even.”
“Fascinating. You’re here because of your wife?”
“Yes, she...she’s something, my Cara.” The smile left his mouth and moved to his ebony eyes. The Mistress saw love in that smile, love in those eyes. Married and in love? The Mistress was half-tempted to take a blood sample from the man and send it to the labs.
“She must be to put that rise in your Levi’s.”
Robert sat up straighter and gave The Mistress a wide-eyed stare.
“Don’t worry, Robert. If there aren’t at least three men in this house at any one time walking around with full erections, Kingsley calls a staff meeting. You love your wife. She must be incredibly beautiful to get you in a manly way by just thinking about her. I might have to meet this woman.”
“I want you to meet her.” Robert pulled one of the gold pillows across his lap. “I can’t really bring her here. Not yet anyway.”
“Do you want me to meet your wife? Or do you want me to beat your wife?”
Robert exhaled heavily. He rubbed his forehead and gave a short rueful laugh.
“She wants me to beat her, not you.”
“And you don’t want to do it?”
“No. Hell no. I’d love to. It’s just...”
The Mistress waited. From the moment she saw Robert standing in the corner, she knew her day was about to get interesting. She did so love interesting days.
“Just what, Robert?” The Mistress leaned forward and let one lace-encased arm drape over the other as she studied him. Her breasts were on ample display in her black-and-white striped corset. But Robert only looked into her eyes.
“Just...I’m afraid to ask for this. It’s crazy. I know you’ll say no.” He paused for a breath. Whatever he was about to ask clearly required as much courage as the man had within him. The Mistress couldn’t wait to hear what perverted, sadistic, terrifying plan the man had in mind. “Will you come home with me and meet my wife?”
“You sick twisted motherfucker.”
Robert blanched. The Mistress laughed.
“Come on,” she said as she stood up and threw her toy bag over her shoulder. “I’ll drive.”
* * *
The Mistress drove and Robert sat in the passenger seat, eyeing her warily.
“What? Did you think I’d say no?” The Mistress asked.
“I assumed you would. Isn’t coming home with clients a little...”
“It’s not usually done, no. But I’m not your ordinary Dominatrix. I make ten times what my sisters in sadism do because I do the stuff they won’t. Like...”
“Go to client’s houses?”
“For starters. Now tell me how you know Kingsley. You must know Kingsley somehow.”
“I know Kingsley.”
“Carnal knowledge?”
“He wishes.”
“I like you, Robert Bruce. Keep talking.”
Robert toyed with his watchband as The Mistress took them to the edge of Manhattan.
“Don’t do that. You’re not the fidgeting type. It hurts my soul to see a dignified Dom fidgeting.”
“Sorry, Mistress. How do you know I’m a Dom, though?”
“I’ll eat my own underwear if you’re a sub. Switch? Maybe although you seem like a man of hard and simple desires. Switches are much more flighty and fucked-up. I know this from experience. So Dom?”
“Yes. Ex-Dom.”
“Future Dom. You’ve topped before?”
“Old girlfriend,” Robert explained. “She got me into it back when I was in grad school. MBA.”
“MBA? I stand corrected. You’re obviously a masochist. Continue.”
“Not much to tell. She was one of Kingsley’s crew back then. That’s how I know him.”
“True love?”
“Yeah...for about six months. Loved her with all my cock and soul.”
“How romantic.”
Robert laughed at himself. “She was kinky as hell. Been in the scene since she was a teenager. Told me I couldn’t lay a hand on her without tying her up first. She gave me the basic tour of BDSM. After a couple nights, she called me a natural.”
“I can see that. So cock-and-soul girl? She went by the wayside?”
“Wasn’t meant to be. Met my Cara a few years later. Real true love. Married. One little one. Not so little really. He’s nine now.”
“Hope he’s not home. I tend to scare children. On purpose.”
“No, he’s not home. At his grandmother’s. Thursday night is our night. Cara and I always make sure we have our private time.”
“You two are so damn cute. I can’t even guess what the problem is here. Is there really a problem or are you just trying to trick me into participating in some sort of unholy threesome with whips and chains and butt plugs as big as bugles? I’m fine with either, really.”
Robert chuckled again, nervously this time, and The Mistress heard a note of real distress in that too-casual laugh.
“There’s a problem, I promise.”
They arrived at Robert’s building and took the elevator up to a pleasantly understated penthouse apartment...or as understated as a two-million-dollar penthouse apartment could be.) The Mistress watched as Robert took off his shoes and sat them on a bench by the door. The furniture, plush and monochromatic, sat arrayed in symmetrical lines. Nothing seemed out of place. She’d never seen a home more scrupulously tidy before. Not even a stray shoe littered the floor.
“Your wife is either OCD or some sort of serial killer. I can’t wait to meet her.” The Mistress hoisted her toy bag high on her shoulder.
“The wife can’t wait to meet you, either” came a voice from the kitchen. A lovely woman of about thirty-five emerged from an open doorway and smiled blankly toward Nora’s voice. She had sleek red hair cut into a simple bob and wore no makeup other than a splash of pale pink lip gloss. “And I promise the wife is neither OCD nor a serial killer.” Cara, the wife, held out her hand in The Mistress’s general direction as her eyes looked past, not at, The Mistress’s face. “The wife, is, in fact...”
“The wife is blind,” The Mistress said.
“That she is,” Cara, the wife, said with a wide grin.
Robert put his arm around Cara’s shoulder as The Mistress released her hand.
“Now do you see the problem?” Robert asked.
The Mistress looked Cara up and down. Beautiful woman—pale skin, ample curves, a beauty mark at the corner of her mouth...and pale hazel eyes that stared unseeing at nothing and no one.
“Nope. I don’t see a problem at all,” said The Mistress.
“I definitely don’t see a problem,” Cara added.
“Funny and blind. I like this wife of yours. Now...is there any booze in this house?”
Ten minutes later the three of them sat around the kitchen table with glasses of white wine before them and awkward silence between them. The Mistress loved awkward silences. She’d create them on purpose sometimes just to see who would break the silence first. Tonight she put her mental money on Cara.
Cara was smart money.
“He worries too much about me is the real problem.” Cara took a sip of her wine only after speaking, as if to prove she didn’t need the liquid courage.
“Cara, you’re blind. I feel like I have to remind you of this more often than I should.” Robert laid a large hand on his wife’s thin forearm before reaching up to touch her face. The Mistress noted the gesture. He’d done the same thing earlier before putting his arm around her. He must touch her arm first to give her fair warning of his proximity before touching more of her. Overprotective indeed.
“I wasn’t born blind,” Cara explained, turning her head, if not her eyes, toward The Mistress.
“What happened?” The Mistress asked and Robert shifted in his chair.
“Accident,” Cara explained. “I was nineteen. Standing on a street corner—”
“Prostitute?”
“Hey—” Robert interrupted angrily, but Cara only laughed and patted Robert’s hand.
“Yes. I was turning tricks on the way to class,” Cara continued with a grin. “And someone bumped into me. Just an accident. No malice. Went down and hit the back of my head on the curb. Slammed my occipital lobe. The lights went out and they never came back on again.”
“Incredible...” The Mistress exhaled. “One question.”
“Of course.”
“Did that help or hinder your prostitution career?”
Cara burst out laughing as Robert buried his head on his wife’s shoulder.
“She’s fun, Robert. Let’s keep her.”
“She’s a little out of our price range for full-time employment.” Robert kissed Cara on the cheek.
“Is she pretty?” Cara asked Robert. “She sounds pretty.”
“I’m hideous. I look like a shaved Muppet.”
“Robert?” Cara prompted.
“She’s the second most beautiful woman in the entire city,” Robert said. “White girl. Long black hair. Wavy. She’s got part of it pulled back but it still looks a little messy—sexy and wild. She’s short, although her boots put a few inches on her. Curvy but muscular. Fantastic breasts especially in that corset. Green eyes. About thirty. Total goddess.”
“Thank you, darling.”
“Wait. This is your husband’s job? To describe women to you?” The Mistress asked. “This is a damn good gig.”
“Since I wasn’t blind from birth, I can still visualize people. Old habits die hard.” Cara turned her head to Robert. “I try to guess what people look like by their voices and personalities. Then Robert tells me if I’m right or not.”
“He probably lies to you constantly,” The Mistress said before taking another sip of her wine. “I would.”
“I do,” Robert admitted. “She doesn’t even know I’m black.”
“Great. Now she does.” The Mistress rolled her eyes.
“My parents are going to be shocked,” Cara said, trying to keep a straight face. “What will we tell the children?”
“We have more than one child?”
“You’re not the only one with secrets, dear.”
The Mistress sat back in her chair and studied the playfully bickering spouses. Rarely had she seen a couple so comfortably in love with each other. Something ached inside her at the sight of such easy affection. She’d had this once, this kind of perfect peace. A name she tried to never speak echoed in the empty parts of her, reverberating off the hollow walls of her heart.
“Yes, well,” The Mistress said when the cuteness reach its zenith. “This is all well and good, but if I’m here then someone has got to get their ass kicked tonight. Do we have any volunteers?”
Cara’s hand shot up straight in the air. Robert reached up, gently clasped her wrist and pulled her hand back down.
“Now that was uncalled for.” The Mistress shook her head in disgust.
“Mistress, Cara is blind. Completely. You don’t go around beating up blind women. Especially not when the blind woman happens to be my wife.”
“Your wife clearly wants to be beaten,” The Mistress reminded him. “Remember this?” The Mistress threw her arm up in the air and waved it eagerly. “You should. It happened like seven seconds ago.”
“Yes, you should, Robert,” Cara said, an edge of irritation in her voice. “I want it.”
“You only you think you want it. You’re just curious because we ran into Toni last week.”
“Toni was your kinky ex-girlfriend?” The Mistress’s ears perked up at that. “Not the Toni? Toni the sexy masochist who used to sleep with Kingsley? And by ‘sleep’ I mean anything but sleep?”
“She also used to sleep with me,” Robert admitted with a sheepish shrug of his broad shoulders. “And we did actually sleep sometimes.”
“God damn. You used to fuck Toni the Tiger. That girl scared half the sadists in the Underground. I saw her play human pincushion during an erotic acupuncture play scene once. She didn’t even bleed. You must be even more hard-core than I pegged you for.” The Mistress turned to Cara. “I mean ‘pegged’ metaphorically. I haven’t pegged your husband. That costs extra.”
“Understandably,” Cara said, nodding. “Here’s the thing, Mistress. He is hard-core. We ran in to this Toni woman and I could hear her drooling over him. I grilled him that night. I wanted to know everything. I’m not jealous at all. Really.
“Really?” The Mistress raised an eyebrow.
“Fine. I am jealous. Not that he had a relationship with her, but that he had that kind of relationship with her, and he won’t have it with me.”
“That you wanted something like that, too?” The Mistress finished for her.
“Very much.”
Robert groaned.
“None of that.” The Mistress waved her hand at him in a scolding. “The Mistress is talking to the sub in the room right now. You just sit there and look pretty. Cara, why do you want that kind of relationship? Just curiosity?”
“No. I mean, yes. I mean, yes I’m curious. I’ve never done it before. But I’ve had fantasies about it since I was a teenager and found my mom’s stash of smut.”
“God, I love smut. Let me guess...The Sleeping Beauty Trilogy?”
Cara’s mouth fell open just slightly. “Yes! How did you—”
“Seriously, I should start sending a cut of my checks to Anne Rice. I owe that woman half my clients. But come on now. Surely it’s more than that.”
Cara exhaled heavily and crossed her arms over her chest.
“It’s more than that. Robert...he takes such good care of me. So protective. I swear he’d lay down his jacket over mud puddles I have to cross if I’d let him. Just once in a while, I wish he wasn’t so protective of me. He loves me like a wife, yes. But sometimes he treats me like a child.”
“I have heard this story before,” The Mistress said, smiling.
“And maybe if he treated me like he did Toni, if he saw me like he saw her...I don’t know. I just want to try. I want to be a woman to him—a whole woman. A woman he’s not afraid to treat like a woman, and not like his fragile blind wife who needs to be saved.”
“Robert, are you hearing all of this?” The Mistress asked, turning her attention to him.
Robert looked up at the ceiling. “Yes, Mistress.”
“Good man. Is any of this sinking in? Or at the very least, giving you a semi?”
“Yes, Mistress.” He rubbed his face and laughed. “I want to make her happy.”
“It can’t just be about her, though. You have to want to do this. You have to want to top her. You can’t just go through the motions or she’ll know it. You enjoyed what you did with Toni, right?”
Robert glanced at Cara, who clearly sensed his diffidence to answer even though she couldn’t see it.
“It’s all right.” Cara found Robert’s hand and squeezed it. “I wasn’t a virgin when we met. I had boyfriends I loved being with before you. You’re allowed to have fond memories of ex-girlfriends.”
Robert raised Cara’s hand and kissed it.
“I wouldn’t trade a thousand nights with Toni for five minutes with you, my love.” He kissed her hand once more. “But yes, I loved topping Toni in the beginning. She loved pain, loved being used and abused. The sex was never rough enough for her. At first it’s a sexy challenge. But then it got old. I love playing Dom but not every night.”
“I don’t want every night, either,” Cara said. “I love our sex life. But I do want to do this tonight. And if we both enjoy it maybe again in a week or two.”
“Do you want some help here?” The Mistress offered. The more they kept talking, the greater the risk Robert would chicken out. They needed to get started doing. “I can play wingman. The first scene’s always the hardest. I’ve got floggers with me, some cuffs and stuff. We can do this together.”
Robert put his hand on Cara’s shoulder. “Would you be comfortable with The Mistress watching and helping?”
“She’ll keep her clothes on, won’t she?” Cara asked Robert.
“I’m already naked,” The Mistress said. “Bedroom, perverts. Now. I have an idea.”
“I’m going to admit to being terrified by your idea,” Robert said as he ushered The Mistress and Cara into the master bedroom. Master bedroom was a perfect name for the room. Perhaps Robert hadn’t consciously decorated his bedroom to look like a dungeon, but it certainly gave off a darkly erotic air. The king-size bed was draped in black-and-white linens. The four-poster bed frame was constructed of sturdy metal bars tailor-made for restraining a willing submissive. The walls were painted a deep red. Low leather chairs sat under the windows that overlooked the streets. The Mistress couldn’t help but picture a naked, helpless Cara with her legs draped over each chair arm as her owner violated her with his fingers and mouth as the whole city watched.
“You should be terrified of my idea,” The Mistress said. “It’s pure evil genius, just like me. Now Cara...” The Mistress stood in front of Robert’s wife and took her hands. Cara had already begun to pant a little in both in nervousness and anticipation. “I’m going to talk Robert through this. You’re not going to hear a word I say. Once the scene starts only he can hear my voice. You’ll just ignore it. It’s background music and that’s all. You’ll only listen to your husband. You’ll do everything he tells you to do without question. You’re his sexual property. Aren’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Cara whispered. Out of the corner of her eye, The Mistress saw Robert stand up straighter.
“You love him. You trust him. You belong to him. He’s going to flog you and he’s going to fuck you. And you’re...?”
“Going to love it.” Cara’s face broke into a wide grin.
“Did you hear that, Robert?” The Mistress asked.
“Oh, I heard that. Every part of my body heard that.”
“I might help Robert. I might even touch you. But it’ll merely be an extension of him. Are you comfortable with that?”
“Very, Mistress.”
“Good. Now for Kink 101, Cara. You’re going to get a beating and it’s going to hurt. You’ll say ‘ow’ and ‘no’ and that’s fine. You’re getting flogged. It’s supposed to hurt. If you don’t want Robert to stop, you need a safe word so you can keep up with your ‘oh, ah, ow, shit, fuck, damn that hurts’ and he’ll keep on flogging. So pick a word you’ll remember that wouldn’t possibly cross your lips unless you were one-hundred-percent certain you wanted the scene to stop.”
“Um...suggestions?”
“What’s your favorite guilty pleasure food?”
“I don’t know. Popcorn?”
“Don’t insult me.”
“Okay. Funyuns.”
“Disgusting. And perfect. Funyuns it is. Let’s do this. Don’t be afraid. Just have fun.”
“Having fun already.”
“Now, Robert...what do you want Cara to call you. Sir? Master? Daddy?”
“Daddy?” he asked with some horror.
“Don’t judge.”
“I think ‘Sir’ has the least amount of baggage here.”
“Good choice. Sir is a classic. Let’s get started. Cara, take your clothes off and kneel on the bed. We’re going to leave the room while you undress. Robert will come back in and that’s when the scene will start. You’ll be safe. You’ll be protected. You’ll get your ass kicked. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“This way, Sir,” The Mistress said as she took Robert by the arm and led him from the room. Once outside the bedroom, The Mistress closed the door and let Cara have a last moment of privacy and Robert a final minutes of mental preparation. “You can do this.”
“I can do this. I can’t do this.”
The Mistress slapped him hard on the side of the arm. Robert winced and mouth an “ow.”
“Did that hurt?”
“Yes, it did.”
“Is it going to kill you?”
“No...”
“There. That’s why you’re doing to Cara. Just giving her some thwaps. It’ll hurt. It won’t cause a bit of harm. If she ends up with even a bruise after this, I’ll be surprised. I’ve got light floggers, great for beginners. You know what you’re doing. If you used to top Toni then I know you know what you’re doing.”
“I know what I’m doing. It’s just...” Robert paused and took a deep breath. His face clouded over with both love and concern. “My wife is blind, Mistress. She is blind. She can’t see anything. She can’t protect herself. When she goes out alone, I’m a wreck until she gets back. She could get hurt so easily. Anything...a break in the concrete, a piece of trash on the ground, a dog off his leash...or worse. A mugger...a rapist...anything.”
“But you let her go, right?”
“Well, yeah. I can’t make her my prisoner. She’s an adult after all. She’d divorce me if I treated her like a child in need of constant protection.”
“You treat her like an adult outside the bedroom. Now you’re just going to do it inside the bedroom. And I have something that will help.”
“More alcohol?”
“Better. Let’s go. She should be naked by now.” The Mistress clapped her hands together and rubbed them with maniacal glee in the hopes of getting a laugh out of Robert. He did laugh but he didn’t sound like he meant it.
The Mistress put her hands on his face and forced him to meet her eyes.
“Trust me, Robert. I know what I’m doing. Say that you trust me.”
“I trust you, Mistress.”
“Good. Now let’s go beat and fuck your wife.”
The Mistress took Robert by the shoulders and spun him toward the bedroom door. When he touched the knob The Mistress spoke one last word of warning to him.
“Don’t be afraid. And if you are, don’t act like it. Got me?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Let’s do it.”
Robert opened the door and inhaled sharply when he saw Cara kneeling naked at the edge of the bed. She was a sight to behold with her dark red hair coming just to the top of her long elegant naked neck. Impossible to believe the woman had carried a child once. She had smooth creamy skin, a taut body and full, high breasts, and only her softly rounded stomach betrayed her age and experience.
“My God...” Robert whispered at the doorway, whispered so quietly only The Mistress could hear. “That’s my wife.”
“Your wife and your property. Go claim her.”
Nodding, Robert headed toward the bed with eager footsteps. He started to reach out for Cara’s hand that rested on top of her thigh.
“Is that the part of her you really want to touch?” The Mistress asked softly as she stood at his side.
“I always—”
“I know. You always touch her hand before you touch any other part of her. She’s your property. You own her whole body and can use it any way you want. You don’t have to pussyfoot around your own property. Touch her how you want to touch her, not how you think you should touch her.”
Robert pulled his hand back. The Mistress watched. She knew this was the crucial moment, the moment when Robert would either reclaim his bedroom dominance or remain a scared, vanilla husband.
“You own her,” The Mistress reminded him. Cara stayed still with her eyes closed. She seemed to be holding her breath.
“Yes,” he said and gripped his wife by the back of the neck. “Yes, I do.”
The Mistress would have applauded but she was too busy enjoying the show.
Cara gasped as Robert brought his mouth down hard onto her shoulder and bit into the soft skin. He stood behind her and cupped both breasts in his hands. Soft murmurs of pleasure escaped Cara’s lips. The Mistress bent and opened her toy bag. She pulled out one special item and held it out in front of Cara’s face.
“What is that?” Robert asked, eyeing the object.
“Blindfold. Use it.”
“But—”
“I told you to trust me.” The Mistress gave him her steadiest, most commanding stare. Robert took the black silk blindfold and wrapped it around Cara’s eyes and tied it at the back of her head. Cara smiled with silent understanding. “Now you’re wife isn’t blind anymore. She’s just blindfolded.”
Robert looked at The Mistress for a long quiet moment. He mouthed a mute “thank you.” The Mistress merely bowed her head toward the blindfolded Cara.
“Do it,” The Mistress ordered.
He did it.
Robert’s ex-lover Toni had loved being blindfolded. Anything to intensify a scene. He was used to this, dominating a woman in a blindfold. Now the reason Cara couldn’t see had nothing to do with an accident and injury. Now she couldn’t see because Robert had blindfolded her. He owned all her body now, even her eyes.
Without any further diffidence or hesitation, Robert took control of Cara’s body. He slid his hands down her chest and held her breasts again. Her nipples went hard at his touch. One hand slid farther down and found her clitoris nestled inside the soft red curls at the apex of her thighs. He kneaded it gently as Cara began to moan and move her hips.
“You like that, don’t you?” Robert rasped the words into Cara’s ear.
“Yes, Sir.”
“You’re a slut for my touch, aren’t you?” He punctuated the question with another bite on her neck.
“Only yours, Sir.”
“Better be.” He took her by the shoulder and pushed her forward onto the bed. Robert kneeled between her legs and shoved her thighs open with his knees. “I know this is mine and nobody else’s.”
He reached between her legs and shoved two thick fingers into her. Cara clung to the sheets even as she raised her hips to take him deeper. He fucked her with his hand for a few minutes, digging into her as she writhed and squirmed with need.
“I think you might like that too much,” Robert said as he pulled his hand out of her. “I don’t think you’ve earned an orgasm yet, have you?”
He gave her a viciously hard spank that left even The Mistress flinching. The Mistress gave him two thumbs up. She knew a nice hit when she saw it. And the bright red handprint on Cara’s bottom certainly testified to the force of that blow.
“No, Sir. But I want to earn it,” Cara said as Robert bodily flipped her onto her back.
“Pleasure’s earned with pain. You ready to earn it? Don’t answer. I don’t care if you’re ready or not.”
The Mistress nodded her approval as Robert dragged Cara off the bed and pulled her to her feet. Back into her toy bag she dove and came out holding a set of dark leather wrist cuffs and a snap hook.
“I think you know what to do with these.”
Robert did. He took the cuffs and buckled them onto Cara’s wrists. Using the snap hook he locked her arms high above her head over the top bar of the canopy bed. Good thing Cara was nearly as tall as he. Still she had to strain to stay on her toes. It had to be uncomfortable for her. Good.
The Mistress handed Robert a light flogger. It would sting nicely but not cause too much of a shock. Better to break in a new sub slowly. She’d learned that lesson the hard way.
With a possessive hand, Robert caressed Cara’s unmarked back, her full hips and bottom, her long shapely thighs. He glanced at The Mistress once and she winked at him.
“Turn that white girl red,” she said by way of encouragement. It was all the encouragement he needed.
He took his stance behind Cara, raised the flogger over his head and hit clean and hard right at the center of her back. Cara gasped and flinched. Robert gave no quarter. Another hit followed on the heels of the first one. And another and another. He worked his way down her back and up again.
“Like riding a bike,” The Mistress said with an approving courtesy clap. The man might not have flogged a woman in ten years but he still had the chops for it.
He aimed lower and struck the sides of her hips, her bottom and the back of her thighs, before making the circuit again. Cara moaned in the back of her throat, cried out a time or two, but she never uttered her safe word or begged for mercy.
When a strike to her thigh unleashed an expletive-laden protest, Robert immediately ceased the flogging. The Mistress tensed. Pain was par for the course in S&M scenes. A Dominant couldn’t afford to have a weak stomach with a submissive who wanted the real deal. It hurt. Of course it hurt. That was the point, after all.
“Do you think you’ve had enough pain?” Robert asked, the flogger still aloft. “Answer me.”
“Yes, Sir,” Cara panted, trying to sag into her bonds but not able to.
“Really? Because I don’t.” Robert let one more strike fall hard and fast and right on her ass. The Mistress beamed with pride.
Then and only then did Robert drop the flogger. Once more he ran his hands over his wife’s body.
“You’re bright red from your neck to your knees,” he said into her ear. “You remember what bright red looks like, don’t you?”
“I remember,” she said, smiling at his touch.
“Maybe next time I’ll turn you black and blue to go along with your red.”
“I’d like that, Sir. If I can’t see colors, I’d at least like to be colors.”
“That’s my girl.” He slapped her bottom right on the reddest spot and she released another cry of pain and shock. Reaching up, he released the snap hook and her arms fell to her sides. Cara herself nearly fell to the floor but Robert caught her just in time. He picked her up and threw her roughly onto the bed. While she grimaced in discomfort from her welts, Robert positioned her between the bed posts, her hips right at the edge of the mattress.
“Rope,” he said to The Mistress with the authority of a doctor demanding a scalpel from his faithful nurse.
“Coming right up.”
The Mistress dug into her toy bag and pulled out two lengths of silk rope. While Robert tied Cara’s right ankle to one bed post, The Mistress tied her left ankle to other. Her legs formed a V. She couldn’t close her thighs to hide herself even if she wanted to. And as wet as she appeared, Cara clearly didn’t want to.
“What would you suggest I do to this little slut of mine, Mistress?” Robert asked as he gave his wife an appraising look.
“She did take the beating beautifully. Perhaps she’s earned a little of this.” The Mistress pulled a large phallic-shaped vibrator out of her bag and covered it in a condom.
“Or maybe a lot of this...” Robert took the vibrator, turned it on to a medium setting and pressed it to Cara’s clitoris. She flinched again but this time in obvious pleasure.
“Shall I help make this more interesting?” The Mistress offered, pulling a set of nipple clamps from her bag.
“By all means.”
The Mistress ran a hand over Cara’s breast while Robert continued to massage her clitoris and outer labia with the vibrator while Cara pleaded for penetration. Such a tease. He was damn good at this.
With fingers that knew exactly how to touch a woman, The Mistress kneaded Cara’s nipple until it swelled and hardened. She carefully applied one nipple clamp and let it dangle provocatively from her breast. The other nipple clamp provoked an even stronger reaction.
“I have rope and clothespins if you get in the mood for a zipper.” The Mistress gazed mischievously at Robert.
“We’ll have to save something for next time. Zipper sounds good for a second session.”
“A zipper?” Cara asked, her voice flush with fear and desire, a combination The Mistress had come to think of as the sound of submission.
Robert pressed the tip of the vibrator an inch into his wife.
“You get thin rope and thread it through clothespins,” he explained. “You take the clothespins and put them all over the sub’s body. Then you take the end of the rope and yank. It’s excruciating.”
“I do them all the time,” The Mistress said. “I’ll even give you my spare bag of pins. You know...for next time.”
Cara shivered but The Mistress couldn’t tell if was from fear or pleasure. Probably both.
“You’re about to kill your poor wife, you know?” The Mistress nodded toward the area of erotic torture.
“Well...I am pretty fond of her. Can’t have her dying,” Robert said before plunging the vibrator deep into her.
Something bordering on a scream of ecstasy emanated from Cara’s throat loud enough to send both Robert and The Mistress laughing. Inflicting pleasure could be nearly as enjoyable as inflicting pain. And often just as humiliating for the writhing submissive.
Robert fucked his wife long and hard with the vibrator, plunging it into her over and over again. He pushed the tip into her G-spot, shoved it deep into the back of her vagina and pulled it out to massage her labia once more. As much as she panted and moaned, Robert didn’t let her orgasm. Vicious man. The Mistress wanted to give him a medal.
“You want to come, don’t you?” Robert demanded as his wife’s hips moved in desperate undulations.
“Yes. Please, Sir,” she begged. The Mistress heard real need in her voice.
“I’ll let you. But not with this. You come on my cock alone.”
“I want it so much.” Cara’s fingers dug into the sheets and a series of barely articulate pleases escaped her lips.
“Keep begging and you might,” Robert said as he untied Cara’s ankles from the bedposts. He grabbed her arms and pushed her onto her stomach and then pulled her legs to the floor.
“Please, Sir...” Cara said as she spread her thighs wider and lifted her hips by way of invitation. Robert slapped her hard on the bottom again, and she inhaled in surprise. The Mistress could tell Cara wasn’t used to being touched by Robert without any sort of warning. She seemed to like it.
Robert opened his pants and gripped his wife by her hips. Every inch of him disappeared into her wet and waiting body. As he thrust into her, Robert ran his hands over Cara’s back, which was now marbled with red welts. He touched them lovingly, tenderly, even as he pounded deep into her without mercy.
After a minute or two he pulled out and forced Cara onto her back again. Her ankles met his shoulders, and his hands held her thighs as he entered her once more.
“Nice. Deep penetration,” The Mistress said, leaning casually against the bedpost and thoroughly enjoying the show. “Are you trying to give her cervix a black eye or just going for a blow job from the other direction?”
Robert took the hint and lowered Cara’s legs, letting her wrap them around his back. He slipped a hand between their bodies and teased her clitoris with his fingertips. Cara groaned with pleasure. She found his forearms and held onto them as he pushed into her.
The Mistress watched as Robert gazed down at his wife’s face through half-closed eyes.
“You have a beautiful piece of property there.” The Mistress inclined her head at Cara’s writhing body.
“I know it,” he said as he traced a faint scar on Cara’s stomach, the product of a long-ago C-section. The Mistress looked away a moment as Robert bent to kiss his wife on the mouth. The sex she didn’t mind watching. But a kiss, that was personal.
The kiss ended but Robert kept his mouth near her mouth.
“I want you to come for me. And I want to look at all of you while you come. Say ‘Yes, Sir.’“
“Yes, Sir,” she breathed. Robert gathered her close and lifted her as she wrapped her legs and arms around him. He sat on the edge of the bed and rolled back, Cara straddling his hips. She started to move against him, her hands searching his body until they found his chest. At first she moved slowly, clearly relishing the position, the angle, the pleasant press of his body against her clitoris. She ground against him, moving in ovals. Robert teased her nipples, tugging lightly on the clamps as Cara started to push faster. With hunger and frenzy, she rode her husband with animal need. Her breathing grew loud and came in short, quick puffs.
“Do it, Cara,” he said in a stern voice. “Come for me. Come right now.”
Her body rocked wildly. She dug her fingers in the fabric of his shirt. Her head fell back and with a strangled grunt she came loud and hard. Hard enough even Robert groaned.
She collapsed onto Robert’s chest but she didn’t stay there long. Robert rolled over quickly and pulled Cara onto her hands and knees. He entered her from behind. He didn’t thrust. Instead he stayed still as he jerked Cara’s hips against him with bruising precision. The Mistress had seen true masochists who would have tapped out by now from the sheer brute force of the fucking. But Cara seemed to glory in it, groaning and gasping in pleasure until Robert let go and finally came inside her with a few final thrusts.
He pulled out of her and rolled onto his side with an exhausted sigh. Laughing, Cara joined him as Robert dragged her to him. As he kissed her shoulders, he untied the blindfold and tossed it aside. Gently he removed the clamps from her breasts and massaged her sore nipples. The Mistress picked up the discarded toys and put them in her bag. She’d clean them at the dungeon and put them to good and bad use again very soon.
Hefting her toy bag over her shoulder, she gave Robert a wink and left the bedroom. But she didn’t make it out of the house before she heard footsteps behind her.
“Mistress?”
The Mistress turned around to find a sweaty, happy, barefoot Robert coming toward her.
“You should be spooning your wife right now. Go. Scoot. I’ll send you a bill.”
“That was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.”
“Congrats. I make a great wingman, don’t I?”
“The best. The blindfold...the lectures...I’m adding a big tip. You earned it.”
“Why yes, yes, I did. Speaking of tips...she’s just had her first scene ever. This is a big damn deal. She’ll need a lot of aftercare. Hold her a long time. Tell her you’re proud of her. Hell, rock her if she likes that sort of thing. Then give her a long hot bath. No more playing. If you want to fuck her again, fine. Just go easy—bondage at most. No more hitting. Also...tell her you love her and that she’s your prized possession. Tell her that a lot. Every day even...” The Mistress said and heard those words ringing in her ears. Someone had said that to her a long time ago, and the echo of them had never fully dissipated.
“I will. I promise. And I guess I need to get one of those,” he said, nodding toward her toy bag.
“No need. Neckties make good blindfolds. Garbage bags are great for tying up wrists and ankles. Spatula for a paddle. Well...I better leave this with you. Not easy to MacGyver a decent flogger.”
The Mistress took out the light flogger and handed it to Robert.
“Thank you...for everything.”
“Don’t thank me,” The Mistress said as she opened the door and stepped into the hallway. “The flogger’s going on your bill.”
END OF SESSION
Whew. Robert and Cara. I never saw them again after that. Not together anyway. Robert could handle Cara just fine on his own. But every now and then he’d show up during my office hours and ask for some suggestions. I taught him my trick for the perfect zipper, gave him some hints on how to tie better knots, helped him trade up to a heavier class of floggers.
I never went home with them again. Never had to. But sometimes when the job gets too dark, too difficult, too ugly, I unpack my memories of them and bring them home with me.