Mistress Blackheart

by Francine Whittaker

  “We met some months ago,” she explained matter-of-factly, “while I was abroad. He arrived here from Paris this afternoon and will be enjoying my hospitality for a few days, after which he’ll be meeting up with some rather important people in London.”

  “He must be in agony,” Nina observed.

  “Must be,” Ali agreed, “and his bum should be warming up nicely.”

  “So it’s true - you really do have a black heart.”

  Ali turned her glittering black gaze to the blonde. “And I’m not afraid to prove it.” Standing with her legs apart, she placed her hands on her hips and returned her attention to the unfortunate Pierre as she addressed Nina phlegmatically.

  “I’ve been doing some digging, Nina. You’re right, your husband’s been having it away with his patients - and with a friend of mine. He’s been giving her a rough time of it, so the two of us have come up the idea of paying him back. The thing is this, how do you feel about it?”

  Nina’s eyes sparkled with a new delight as she imagined Owen receiving some extra special treatment.

  “The bastard’s hurt me enough over the years! He needs teaching a lesson. Do what you want with him.”

  “Then we’ll start on Monday.” Ali went on to say that, as it would be Nina’s first day as the new receptionist, she was very welcome to join in the proceedings if she felt the urge, then gave a huge sigh of relief when she declined. As much as she liked Nina, she really didn’t need her getting in the way of her own plan, which had little to do with Owen but everything to do with Leigh.

  Unhooking the cane from her waist, Ali strode across the room towards Pierre. She swished the cane through the air a couple of times, “it makes a rather nice whistle, don’t you think?” then tapped it against her palm.

  Standing at one side of Pierre’s body, already covered in a sheen of moisture, she took up an open-legged stance level but slightly back from his shoulders. She laid the cane down across his shoulder to fix the point in her mind, then raised it again. In a flash she brought it down, so hard across his shoulder blade that his body jerked in its bonds and beads of sweat sprang up in a fine spray. The candle flame flickered ominously and a globule of hot wax dried on his skin.

  There was a grunt from behind the gag which could have been from pain or pleasure. Regardless, Ali lifted her arm again and took aim. She crashed it down with a sharp Crack! that crossed the first stripe exactly in the centre. With joyful fervour she repeated the process with the other shoulder, then started over until she’d given seven savage blows to each shoulder.

  “Has he had enough yet?” Nina asked.

  “He’s still conscious, isn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then no, he hasn’t had enough. Our Pierre likes to be beaten into oblivion, don’t you, worm?”

  There was another grunt, which Ali answered with a particularly vicious strike across his right shoulder.

  “What about the candle?”

  “It’ll burn itself out soon enough.”

  There was another dreadful strike of the cane, followed by clanking of chains as his body jerked. And so it continued, until she’d laid down a network of fine red crosses that covered his shoulders; his eyes closed, and he hung limply in his chains.

  With perfect timing, a draught caught the flame, it flickered, and died.

  Seated on Gothic style chairs made of black wrought iron, Ali and Nina were finishing off the main course of a lavish meal, expertly prepared and served by Jurgen. They washed it down with liberal amounts of an excellent vintage wine.

  “She’s beautiful!” Nina observed, jerking her head in the direction of the naked, hooded girl who’d been so charmingly displayed throughout the meal.

  Ali shrugged, not wanting to expose the weaker side of her nature.

  “Who is she, the girl that you’re training for someone else?”

  It was vital to Ali’s plan that neither Nina nor Leigh knew the identity of the other - yet. Glancing towards the platform, she imagined how much Leigh’s leg must be aching. It must be unbearable...she smiled proudly.

  “Actually, she’s mine, but it’s not important who she is. I picked her up solely for corrective purposes. In time she’ll be for my exclusive use but, as part of her training programme, I’ve decided she should be at the disposal of my friends.” Ali extended her hand towards the platform where Leigh was displayed like any other item of merchandise. It was as if she twisted a knife in her own breast as she invited Nina to be her guest.

  “As much as I’d like to take you up on the offer,” Nina began doubtfully, “you can’t really expect me to beat the poor kid when she’s strung up like that!”

  “Poor kid? You can get rid of that bloody attitude for a start! If you want to be a dominatrix, dish out beatings and have slaves at your feet, you can’t have any room in your heart for sympathy!”

  “Well, you’re the expert.”

  Nina got to her feet. She circled the wooden platform in awe, admiring the webbing of red weals dissected by the white rope,that adorned the captive’s pale body. Momentarily focusing her attention on the enchanting red pubes that curled and fizzed between the girl’s taut, shapely thighs, Nina reached out a hand and smiled when Leigh flinched under her fiery touch. First, she gripped her mons tightly then, with her thumb pressing against Leigh’s hardened bud, she slipped two greedy fingers between her swollen labia and energetically agitated Leigh’s insides, at the same time tormenting her bud.

  “My God, she’s wet!” To Nina’s delight, Leigh bore down.

  Ali swelled with pride. “Yes, she usually responds well.”

  If she could have seen, Leigh would have recoiled in terror at the look of burgeoning brutality that glittered in her tormentor’s gaze, but as it was she merely burned with shame on hearing the note of amusement in the woman’s sardonic voice.

  “A most extraordinary parcel of flesh tied up with string!”

  “Perhaps you’d like to warm her up a bit?” Ali gestured toward the rack of canes and whips that she’d had Jurgen bring from her bedroom. “She’s the perfect subject on which to practice your technique.”

  Nina’s high heels click-clicked across the wooden floor. She selected a whip that had one braided leather lash. Her heels click-clicked on the return journey and she positioned herself at the side of the platform.

  “I don’t know where to begin!” Nina watched enthralled as, under her unwavering gaze, the girl’s already glowing flesh took on an attractive, deeper hue from her ankles to the point where her flesh met the black hood. “What do you suggest?”

  “Only her tits and cunt are off limits - I’m saving those pleasures for myself! Other than that, beat her anywhere.”

  Ali herself was enslaved by the sheer sensuality that radiated from every fibre of Leigh’s being. She strode aggressively across the room to stand on the other side of the platform. With the need to humiliate her cherished possession as potent as the hunger to take her to her bed, Ali’s veins were scorched by the fire that swept through them. Her powerful, teasing fingers closed around Leigh’s nipple while her other hand skimmed over the angry ridges that covered the slight swell of her abdomen.

  “As you can see, her belly marks up rather nicely. Her back hasn’t really seen the lash yet, so you might like to start there. If not...” Ali worked her nipple into a hardened peak, “you could go for the cheeks of her bum. They’re nice and tight, but at the same time have a fleshiness about them that makes them particularly susceptible to laceration and bruising.”

  Removing her fingers, Ali replaced them with her eager-lipped mouth which she closed over the cherry red tip and clamped her other hand firmly over Leigh’s other breast, teasing the nipple.

  While Ali sucked and twirled, Nina continued to rub and agitate until, scarlet with shame and quivering, Leigh fou
nd it hard to maintain her balance.

  Then a blinding light of pain shot through the tormented girl as without warning, Ali closed her teeth sharply around the highly sensitised morsel of flesh. Leigh, unable to scream because of the gag, hopped around the platform in agony. Disaster struck when her foot slipped away beneath her. The two disciplinarians stepped back, laughing joyously at the spectacle while Leigh was left to dangle helplessly by the knee.

  “Now might be a good time to start,” Ali encouraged.

  While Ali backed up a bit so she could view the proceedings without hindering them, Nina moved closer, correcting her stance by opening her legs as she’d seen Ali brace herself in the playroom.

  She struck the first explosive blow with such force across Leigh’s upper thigh that she swung like a pendulum from side to side across the platform.

  “Very good.”

  The roof of Ali’s mouth went dry as she watched her prized belonging being maltreated before her eyes. She’d expected more hesitation on Nina’s part, yet she wasn’t altogether disappointed. It was months since she’d experienced the thrill of standing back to watch pain and degradation dished out, and it gave her an extra buzz to know that it was still she who was in control of Leigh’s fate.

  With smoky indifference she instructed, “don’t lose momentum. Give her another one.” And so the thrashing progressed, with Ali encouraging her pupil every step of the way. “Keep your eye on your target. Again!”

  With a resounding Crack! the wicked braid struck across the soft flesh of Leigh’s belly, curling round to flick painfully in the hollow of her back, causing the chains to clink as Leigh’s poor, abused body jerked.

  “Now you’re getting the hang of it.”

  A lascivious heat coiled in Ali’s belly. Her clitoris twitched madly, yet there was nothing she could do to relieve herself if she were to maintain her air of indifference. She swallowed her lust and continued with the tutorial.

  “At this stage there’s no need to give her too long between strikes. Only when she’s been under the lash awhile need you give her a breather. So, take aim - strike!”

  The next strike missed altogether.

  Ali wiped the back of her hand across her sweating brow. “Don’t worry. A moving target is always hard, but it’s something you’ll want to master because it can be very rewarding. Get ready, aim - strike!”

  Traumatised beneath her hood, Leigh’s scalding tears flowed freely as she continued to swing back and forth, never being allowed to find her footing. Her poor, sweating body was racked with pain, yet still the blows kept coming. Never would she have believed that such cruelty existed, especially in one whom she’d always considered to be her dearest friend; that that friend could have cold-bloodedly turned her over to be abused by a stranger was inconceivable.

  She heard the satin menace of Ali’s voice.

  “Try a bit lower, where the flesh is softer. You’ll get a better reaction and a very satisfying stripe.”

  The lash caught her just above her pubes.

  Her assailant’s tone was incredulous. “You’ve certainly trained her well. She hasn’t made a sound. I thought...”

  “Don’t stop! You can still flog her while we’re talking. You were saying?”

  The next stroke fell exactly over the last, cutting viciously into the soft flesh, “I was just saying that I thought she’d be screaming her head off by now!” This time there was no let up as the conversation continued.

  “Thanks for the compliment,” Ali paused to laugh, “but I’m afraid I cheated - I had her gagged! But it is possible to train slaves to such a high standard. I’ve seen both men and women have designs scorched into their skin with irons without the need for a gag, and in time she’ll learn to take whatever’s meted out in absolute silence, without the need for a one. Perhaps one day I’ll have her branded, too.”

  The words swam round and round in Leigh’s head as the never ending torture went on, minutes becoming hours. And all the while, Ali continued to direct the stranger who beat her so savagely that Leigh thought she’d die. Lightning exploded into a million starbursts behind her eyes as the blows kept coming, across her back, belly, thighs, until she couldn’t discern any longer where the whip struck for her whole body was one seething mass of pain. And something else that in her present state, she was unable to name.

  God, she was wet, so wet between her legs that she could feel her juices dribbling down her thigh. Her body tensed, and even as she swung to and fro across the platform under each terrible blow, the convulsive tremors hit her as she was beaten to orgasm. The heat spread through her body, down her leg, warm and wet.

  The last thing she heard before blackness enveloped her was the unknown woman’s sneeringly brittle voice.

  “Oh my lord! She’s wet herself!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was claustrophobically dark when Leigh awoke and for a moment she thought she was still wearing the hood. Her heart took up the rapid thumping of panic, until she realized that she was back in the unlit, hutch-like room that she thought of as a prison cell, lying on the hard mattress. She knew a moment’s joy when she found her hands were free. She reached upward to feel for the collar; her heart sank, for it was still fitted in place, hugging her neck snugly but just loose enough for her to poke a finger up between the leather and her skin.

  Still naked, it was just as Leigh realized her feet were also free that Ali opened the door and the room was bathed in light. Leigh was immediately filled with horror as she heard the familiar chink-chink of metal and fastened her gaze on the length of heavy linked chain which dangled from Ali’s hand.

  “Stand up and come here.” When Leigh stood before her at the foot of the mattress, Ali clipped the chain to the ring at the front of Leigh’s collar. “Did you sleep well? You may answer.”

  Not able to read Ali’s mood yet, she mumbled a simple, “yes.”

  There was a quick, downward jerk on her chain. “Yes what?”

  “Yes, thank you, Ali.” Another jerk on the chain did wonders for her memory. “Yes, Mistress Blackheart.”

  “You’re learning. And on the whole you performed well last night, though we’ll have to concentrate on your obvious inability to hold your pee!”

  She turned abruptly, giving Leigh little choice but to follow. Ali led her through the apartment, past Jurgen who was carrying dishes through to the dining room and paid her no attention, to the bathroom.

  Without detaching the lead, she flung open the bathroom door and with a quick shove and a caustic, “get your sorry arse in there!” launched Leigh headlong into the bathroom. “Have a quick shower and use the toilet. Today you can have privacy but don’t get used to it - in future I’ll have Jurgen bring you.

  “I’ll wait outside and when you’ve done, I’ll take you along for breakfast, the last meal you’ll eat at my table. Afterwards, you’ll eat from the dog bowl or be fed by hand. Don’t look so shocked... seeing as you’re not housetrained and act like a she-dog, it’s only right that you’re treated as one.”

  Ali had her stand in the centre of the lounge, her legs apart and arms stretched out at her sides, with the cold metal of the heavy-linked chain dangling between the swell of her fevered breasts.

  Then it was with an extreme tenderness which belied the cruel indignities of the previous day that Ali attended to the livid ridges and bluey-purple bruises that covered Leigh’s weak, abused body. Using soothing ointments and sweet scented oils, she swirled her deceitfully sweet fingers over Leigh’s highly sensitized flesh in a way that was wholly erotic and, even in her present state of abuse, Leigh’s arousal swirled skittishly through her veins.

  Yet the tenderness didn’t reach Ali’s eyes, and fearing the mercurial mood swings that had been Ali’s trademark since youth, and the dog whip that lay across the arms of Ali’s favourite chair, Leigh
fought to keep in check her murmurs and hedonistic sighs.

  “Mustn’t forget to do here,” Ali curled her fingers over Leigh’s nipples, which responded to the feathery touch by jerking to attention, “or here.” She stroked her oil laden digits of her other hand over Leigh’s already drizzling sex, making Leigh shudder with arousal. For several warm, smokily-erotic moments, Ali continued to tease and tweak.

  But instead of inserting her fingers into Leigh’s hungry, grasping channel, Ali snatched them away and strutted around behind her. In a quick movement she seized Leigh’s wrists, and dragging them down behind her back, fastened them together with handcuffs that closed with an ominous click.

  Not daring to protest, Leigh remained quivering silently.

  Ali dipped her hand between Leigh’s legs once more and sought out her clitoris. At first she used sensual, circling motions, but as her own torrid lust took hold, her ministrations became fierce, rubbing movements. She agitated the hard bud until Leigh was unable to stop her sighs any longer and let them escape in a series of whimpers.

  “Enough!” Again Ali wrenched her hand away, and coming round to the front, snatched up the lead. “Just as I thought, you’re nothing but a wanton slut,” and returned her to her room-cum-cell.

  With sudden insight Leigh realized that Ali’s torture didn’t consist of brutality alone; having brought her to a highly agitated state she’d backed off, leaving Leigh trembling with frustration. This was almost as hard to bear as the beatings themselves. Oh, if only her hands were free she’d at least have been able to relieve herself, but Ali’s foresight had put paid to that.

  For the most part of the day, Leigh was confined to her room, lying on her back and chained down on her mattress in an X, though in truth her body hurt so much, she couldn’t have moved even if she hadn’t been chained.

  She saw nothing at all of the Frenchman, who according to Ali, would be staying on for a few days, though she heard the unmistakable sounds of vicious whacks on skin coming from the next room, along with Ali’s satin, derisive tones.