by Jack Quaiz
“Master, how do I compare to all these women in the pictures? Am I attractive enough for you?”
“Don’t worry, Little One. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you Master,” the subby tone in her voice was obvious.
“I’ve thought about photographing you like that and I’m sure you’re very photogenic, but there’s something that keeps me from doing it. It’s taken me a while to figure it out. I think that I took many of those pictures so that I could have something to hold onto after those people were gone. It’s different with you. I know that you’ll always be here for me to pose any way I want, to tie up, to fuck, to spank, to snuggle with. Rather than reach for a photo, I just reach for you. See what I mean?”
“Yes Master.” Her irregular breathing signaled her arousal.
“I hear that, Little One. Looking at these pictures makes me horny too. Do you want to go into the dungeon?”
With scented candles and good music to create the proper atmosphere in the dungeon, Cole announced that he would be giving Monica a lesson on proper fellatio technique. He had noticed that she was a bit inexperienced and that was not acceptable. They used the low futon bed that was covered with a black linen sheet.
Lying nude on his back, he instructed her to begin softly stroking his half erect organ with her fingertips. He guided her to the most sensitive spots and told her how she would be punished if she gripped him too hard or allowed her teeth to touch him while she was giving him pleasure.
When he was almost fully erect, he told her to take his penis entirely into her mouth and apply as much suction as she could. This immediately made him completely hard and he had to turn his thoughts elsewhere for a moment to prevent himself from becoming too aroused.
She performed the licking and kissing tasks perfectly, running her tongue along the underside and gently kissing the head. He showed her how to grab his balls with just the right amount of force to pull the skin tighter on the penis and enhance the sensations. She only hurt him a little in her enthusiasm to perform well.
When he reached the limit of his willpower, he announced, “You have done reasonably well, Little One. I’d say you’ve moved up to Felatrix Second Class. You only let your teeth touch me twice and you pulled too hard on your Master’s balls once. Bring me the cane so that you can receive three strokes. You will kneel on the bed with your ass up.”
She seemed to prance across the wood floor with the cane held before her in both hands. After presenting the instrument to her master, she knelt on the edge of the low bed and bent forward so that her head was touching the mattress. Her ass was offered up in the perfect position to receive a caning.
“Arch your back more. Let your nipples touch the bed as lightly as possible.”
Standing to her left, Cole sliced her buttocks three times with the rattan cane and listened to her inhale sharply and moan sweetly with each stroke. “Hold that position,” he ordered.
Moving directly behind her, he trapped her ankles between his knees and reached down to finger her cunt. He was not surprised when his fingers felt like they were sucked into the wet opening.
Damn, she’s tight, he thought. He did not understand how she could be so tight and so wet at the same time. Most women loosened up when they were wet and aroused, but not Monica. He used his hand to guide his virile organ into her and began the slow in and out movement that would bring him to orgasm. He could tell that she was going to climax before he did, but when he was feeling this dominant, he didn’t care about anything except using her for his own pleasure. Of course, that was just the way Monica liked it.
To increase his own arousal, he reached around to pinch her hard nipples, which had the unintended result of putting her over the orgasmic edge. He had to hold onto her hips desperately with both hands to keep his overheated weapon from being dislodged. When her wild pelvic motions partially subsided, he was able to remove his right hand from her hip and brought it down with great force on her ass. “Stop moving slut! I’m going to come in you and I want you to hold still for me. Give me your hands”
“Yes, Master.”
Keeping her head down, she placed her hands together behind her back and he grabbed her wrists as if they were reins. With a flurry of quick thrusts, he allowed the hot sensation in his cock to spread farther into his balls and then throughout his body. When he came, he felt like the end of his erupting phallus was disintegrating in a fireball of lust.
Lying in bed together later, Monica brought up something that she had been thinking about for some time. “Howard, do you know what I miss?”
“What’s that, my dear?”
“Your pro-Dom career. It was one of the things that I found most attractive about you and you haven’t seen any customers since we got together.”
“We’ve been pretty busy with each other,” Cole said, “but maybe it’s time to get back in business. I haven’t posted any ads in months, but I’m still getting email from women who are interested. Apparently, they’re hearing about me from previous customers. I’ve been telling them about you and they don’t seem to mind that I have a partner now. In fact, they seem to prefer it that way.”
Monica sat up and started massaging his back. “Master, do you think I could be your assistant, like we talked about a few months ago?”
Face down on the bed, Cole answered, “I’d love it and I think our customers would too. Oooh, rub that area some more.”
After a minute of contemplation, Cole said, “I did have a request from someone new recently, but I’ve been putting her off. She’s very interesting, let me tell you about her.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Striding through the Seattle-Tacoma airport in her blue aircrew uniform, Captain Amanda Sumner moved through the crowd like Moses parting the waters. Seeing the serious look on the tall pilot’s face, people moved out of her way without question. They assumed that she was probably on her way to command one of the long range 747-400’s waiting at one of the many gates for a flight across the Pacific. In actuality, she was an instructor pilot, who simply hitched a ride to Sea-Tac in the jumpseat of a regular flight from Minneapolis. There wasn’t a pilot in the air who wouldn’t offer a professional courtesy ride to the attractive and impressive Captain Sumner. Indeed, many of them had been her students at one time or another.
Her aristocratic features were nicely framed by her auburn hair that she kept at slightly less than shoulder length. When she was working, she often pinned it up to look more professional, but then her delicate neck was revealed which at least partly defeated her purpose. Her six foot frame moved with an unusual grace and beneath her uniform was an attractively lean figure which on several occasions had caused her to be mistaken for various woman athletes.
A small suitcase trailed behind her on a collapsible cart as she made her way to the rental car desk. The clerk at the rental counter responded like a well trained soldier as she snapped out her orders. “I need a mid-sized car with a full tank and I need it now, if you please.” She tossed her car rental card onto the counter and waited silently while the clerk conversed with his computer.
“Why don’t you wait right here, ma’am?” the clerk said. “I’ll have the car brought up to the door so you don’t have to wait for the shuttle bus.”
Her car appeared at the door within five minutes and she was soon immersed in the Saturday afternoon madness of Seattle traffic. She drove North on Interstate 5 and turned right at Southcenter to follow I-405 along the Eastern shore of Lake Washington. Her driving demonstrated an uncanny precision as she instinctively calculated the safest position in the traffic stream.
She took the Parkway to an upscale neighborhood of large houses nearly hidden in a forest of evergreens. Finding the one she was looking for, she pulled into the private driveway and parked her rental car near the front door. Retrieving her suitcase from the backseat, she carried it to the front door and rang the bell. The door was instantly opened halfway by a stunningly bea
utiful woman with long curly brown hair who looked like she spent half her life maintaining her hairstyle. The woman peered around the door to examine the visitor.
“Hi, I’m here to see Master Cole.”
As they made eye contact, the woman said warmly, “Hi, you must be Amanda. Please come in and follow me.”
Amanda followed her in and immediately noticed that the woman was wearing a most unusual dress. Her breasts were completely exposed in the style of ancient Minoan women and her skirt was divided up the back all the way to the waist. Amanda’s nearly photographic memory immediately made the connection as she remembered the dress from “The Story of O”. The women of Roissy had worn dresses like that to make themselves available to the men at all times. If Amanda was right, the dress would also be slit to the waist in front.
This has got to be the famous Monica, she thought, as they made their way to one of the bedrooms. When they entered the spacious guest room, Monica turned around and Amanda could see that the dress was indeed slit up the front to reveal her smooth pubis. On Monica the dress wasn’t the least bit tacky, she looked like she had been born to wear it.
“Welcome to our home, my name is Monica and I’m to help prepare you for your appointment later today.”
“Nice to finally meet you. Love the dress,” she said shyly as some of her professional demeanor slipped away. “Master Cole was lucky to find you. And I’m lucky that he’s still available. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“I think I might have some idea,” Monica said with a sly grin in her voice. “Let’s get started. You have about two hours before your appointment and we need to get you all cleaned up and relaxed. Put your clothes over there and I’ll take care of them.”
While Monica filled the large tub, Amanda undressed, already feeling slightly submissive. She allowed Monica to take her by the hand and guide her to the large triangular tub which was almost filled with hot water and heaps of bubbles. She entered the water slowly and was told to sit with her back to the room. She was handed a razor and told to shave herself in whatever manner she preferred. Monica pulled up a small stool, sat down behind her and started massaging her shoulders.
After several minutes, while Amanda was shaving her legs, Monica turned a knob which started gentle jets of hot water pulsing and shifting under the surface. Amanda left her pubic hair untouched. The short auburn patch was soft and inviting, more a decoration than a hindrance to access.
“Master Cole hates the smell of cigarette smoke and you have a little in your hair. Lean your head back and I’ll wash it for you.”
Amanda was becoming more and more relaxed as she let Monica take charge. When the bath was over, Amanda was told to stand still while Monica toweled her dry. A small hair dryer was used to dry her straight auburn hair while Monica used a comb to curl a little shape into it.
Monica complimented her as she worked, “Your hair is such a pretty color, I love that light auburn. It’s very striking with your blue eyes.”
When they were finished, Monica told her to lay face down on the bed and buckled a pair of leather cuffs on her wrists. They were locked behind her back with a small padlock. Monica took a moment to study Amanda’s figure. Although she had an athletic physique, Amanda had very pretty hips which were slightly narrow and well formed breasts that were just a bit small for her tall body. Her stomach was lean and hard from untold hours of exercise and her long, athletic legs didn’t have an ounce of extra weight. With her height, she could have been a fashion model, but her facial features, while pleasant, were not classically beautiful. Monica noticed distinct areas of paleness from a conservative swimsuit, which she found rather charming.
Covering her with a sheet and blanket, Monica told her warmly, “You have an hour to rest now. You can sleep if you like, I’ll wake you at the right time.”
Lying on her left side, warm, naked and with her hands locked behind her, Amanda felt quite safe and secure. She drifted off into a light sleep marked by short dreams from her past.
Amanda Sumner spent her childhood as a military brat with one younger brother. Both of her parents were Air Force officers and her life was in constant turmoil. They never stayed in one place for more than three years and on one occasion, they moved twice in a single ten month period. Many of the normal experiences of childhood were missed. Amanda had to grow up largely on her own, taking responsibility not just for herself, but for her parent’s reputation. She knew that her parent’s chances for promotion depended to some degree on their ability to keep their children from causing trouble on the base. Unfortunately, this did not always offset her headstrong nature.
The family still loved to talk about the three years that they had been stationed at an airbase in Southern England. Amanda’s parents took advantage of the opportunity to send their somewhat rebellious daughter to an English private school for girls.
They had hoped that the strict discipline would help their daughter mature faster and in a way it did. She still dreamed of the day when she had been given the option of being reported to her parents or receiving a spanking. What could have been merely an embarrassing memory turned into a serious relationship with a much older man. Contradicting the stereotype of the abusive male teacher, he turned out to be a warm and caring friend. She was almost eighteen when she graduated with the equivalent of a high school diploma. Her parents sent her back to the states alone to attend college. In many respects, Amanda was forced to assume adult responsibilities before she had a chance to enjoy being a child.
When she graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in Aeronautical Engineering, she applied to the Air Force and was accepted for pilot training. When she left the Air Force six years later, she was one of the top rated pilots of C141 Starlifters. She loved flying the massive military transports and would have continued, but she was starting to realize that she needed something that was not going to be available to her there.
Something in her genes or in her childhood development caused her to crave sexual domination by a man. At age thirty three, her current job as an instructor pilot was only making that need worse. Riding herd on a class of egotistical student pilots required her to maintain a dominant attitude full time. If any of her students smelled the slightest hint that she was submissive, it would cause serious problems. She was particularly wary with the foreign pilots, who had little respect for women in general and deeply resented being under the control of a woman instructor.
Fortunately, as a civilian she had considerable freedom to explore on her own time. Taking to the internet, she discovered an online forum for people interested in dominance and submission. It didn’t take long for her to understand that her need to submit was tied in with her desire to be a little girl again. It seemed to be a fairly common combination of fetishes. She had no trouble meeting eligible men on-line, but after meeting with and sometimes trying to submit to an endless series of potential partners, she had not found anyone who met her high standards.
Three months ago, she heard about Cole from a friend who told her of a man who was a professional dominant for women only. She quickly contacted him by email. He explained that he had recently found his submissive soulmate and was not available at the moment. When she received an email indicating that he was now available with his beloved Monica acting as his assistant, Amanda was extremely excited. She hoped that his professional services might help fill a very large emptiness in her life, at least for a little while.
She had done enough checking to feel safe and finally meeting Monica had allowed her to fully relax and enter the submissive mental state that she so deeply desired. Their play session had been planned well in advance and she trusted Master Cole to carry it out safely.
Amanda awoke to a hand gently shaking her shoulder and Monica’s soft voice calling her name. Monica was now wearing a businesslike outfit of dark slacks and a beige blouse. Amanda waited a moment while Monica unlocked the wrist cuffs, then rose from the bed and stood perfectly still as directed whil
e Monica dressed her. The outfit consisted of a short plaid skirt over plain white cotton panties and a simple white shirt. In short, a schoolgirl’s uniform. Amanda took the pair of white knee socks she was offered and pulled them up over her long, smoothly muscled calves.
The leather cuffs were replaced and fastened behind her back again. Still without shoes, she was led down the hall into an office, where Howard Cole sat behind a large desk. Monica made the formal introduction as she handed him a folded piece of white paper.
“Headmaster Cole, this is Amanda Sumner, the girl who has been causing all the trouble. Here is a note from her teacher, Mrs. Krebbins, describing her offenses.”
Amanda stood before the desk and took note of Cole’s sinister look, which was created by the well sculpted dark beard and mustache. He was wearing a dark suit and looking directly into her eyes. The effect was exactly what she imagined it would be like. She looked at the floor and trembled as he read the note.
“Well, well. It looks like you’ve really done it this time, Amanda. Mrs. K says you’ve been smoking in the girls lavatory again, is that true?”
