by Susan Sass
“Where are you going?” Faith pleaded, loathed to be left alone.
“I am returning to our Master, sweet little sister.” Marc replied. “I must submit myself for punishment.”
“Punishment?” Faith cried in alarm.
“Yes, little one.” Marc replied with a rueful smile. “Like you, words were forbidden to me as well. I forgot to trust our Master to know when the time was right for my release. Your wonderful Ministrations clouded my thinking and I lost the control necessary. The consequence was I was denied coming down your beautiful throat and now I must complete my penance.” He pressed his fingers to Faith’s lips, cutting off any further discussions. “You are not at fault, so don’t worry your pretty head. Remember, with punishment, we grow and are perfected and once completed, it is always followed by forgiveness.”
Kissing her goodnight, Marc left her to her thoughts. She lay there, still deep in afterglow, wondering what would happen to Marc. She didn’t have long to wait. From far down the hall, the muffled whistle and crack of a cane reached her ears. After several blows, each strike was punctuated by the very unnerving sounds of male wails. They sounded as though they were torn from Marc very core and Faith shuddered with each hit as through the cane was landing on her.
Eventually the punishment ended. While she couldn’t her what was being said, she heard Marc’ remorse as he brokenly apologized and how JD’s voice changed from stern scolding to comforting absolution. It was only then Faith could relax and sleep.
Chapter 5
Layla knelt before Aya, the flogger proffered on her palms.
“What is this?”
“Forgive me, Mistress, I have disobeyed you.”
Aya stared at the vicious rubber flogger, recognizing the same whip that she had commanded Layla use on her, the same whip that she had directed the girl to throw away. The very sight of it made echoes of agony cascade across her flesh. “You did not throw it away.”
Layla’s voice was agonized, “I tried. Over and over, I tried. I just couldn’t.”
“Why?”
Layla’s eyes lifted to Aya’s for the first time, still haunted by the memories. “Mistress, I don’t know. All I know is I cannot do it. I stand before the can and as I lift it to throw it in, I freeze and I have this feeling that there is something that is unfinished.” Layla’s eyes filled with tears, “Mistress, that is why I had begged for you to whip me at the show. I wanted to be punished, punished for doing that to you and punished for this, this failure to obey, to throw it away.”
Reaching down, Aya took the flogger and ran it across her palm. “I did promise you that. But I want it clear that I will not punish you for your wielding of this whip against my body.” Aya lowered herself so that her eyes were even with Layla’s. “Slave, I do not know if there forgiveness in this whip. That is yet to be determined, for both of us.”
A tiny shudder shook through Layla, “Forgive me for perhaps correcting you, but, Mistress, I cannot help but wonder if it is not whose hand that holds the whip, not the whip itself. I do know that when I tried to strike myself with this whip, I instantly knew it was the wrong thing, that it would only make the pain in my heart worse. I could not do it a second time.”
Aya looked sharply at the slave kneeling before her, “You tried to strike yourself?”
Layla nodded and whispered, her eyes brimming with tears, “Sometimes it just hurts so bad inside.”
Aya nodded solemnly, “I know.” As the tears spilled over and began to run silently down Layla’s face, Aya gently touched her face. “Do not despair, slave, perhaps this hand will hold redemption.” Then she slid her hand down and gripped the girl by the back of the neck, and stood lifting her to her feet, her voice turning crisp and cool, “Follow me.”
Layla fell into a matching pace, two paces behind, her eyes locked on the swaying tails of the flogger that still hung from her Mistress’s hand.
Aya knew Faith was scheduled to help Jimmy in the kitchen today, but when she entered, the newest slave was not in evidence. Jimmy shrugged, “Marc called and told me that the Master had said to let her sleep late this morning, something about a reward.” Aya s, thinking back to JD’s brief message to her, informing her that Faith had done well. As she walked out, Layla following silently behind, Aya felt a little bounce of anticipation in her walk. Now was the time to see how well the girl would respond to pain.
Faith was walking toward the compound her hair still damp from her shower. Aya could not help but notice how a sudden smile lit up the slave’s face at the sight of her Mistress, and as they met on the pathway, the girl dropped to her knees and murmured, “This slave greets her Mistress.”
Aya spoke crisply, “Little slave, come along.”
It was pleasing to see the new slave instantly stop and turn to follow, her eyes filled with questions but her lips sealed. First they stopped by the playroom and Aya filled a bag with ropes and handed it to Faith, “Little slave, carry this.” As they walked from the house, Aya did not even look back at the two slaves following along at her heels. She idly swung the flogger, listening as it cut through the air with a hissing swish. She had a special place in Mind, a quiet clearing in the forest behind Master’s villa with two trees in just the right place.
The sun was perfectly overhead, shining down warm. Aya s and on impulse unbuttoned her cotton jumpsuit, letting is slip down her body and stepped out of it, reveling in the sensation of the sun on her skin. “Come my slaves, join me, and worship the sun.” Both girls quickly slipped out of their slave dresses and stood nude. Aya looked at them; Layla was slightly fairer, dark honey blond hair contrasting with Faith’s soft brunette. They were close in height, with Layla slightly more lush, with fuller softer curves.
“Kneel.”
Both slaves dropped to their knees.
Aya stood before both of them but her words for Faith, “Layla has expressed to me the wish that I whip her.” Faith stiffened, glancing at Layla, her eyes apprehensive. Aya noted her fear. “Yes, little slave, it is her wish.” Aya looked to Layla. “Perhaps you can explain.”
Layla nodded solemnly, “Oh yes, Mistress, it has been growing inside me ever since I did that to your back. I have been feeling a horrible pain in my heart. All I can think about is that I need to feel the lash just like what Mistress did.”
“Enough,” Aya held up her hand, “enough, I have told Layla that there will be no blood, no scars, but there will be pain. I do not trust her to judge her own limits. I will leave that to you.”
Faith frowned in confusion, looking up at Aya, “What?”
Flicking the whip casually at Faith, snapping her lightly across her breasts, Aya corrected her, “You really must think before speaking. And you forget respect. I said you will be in charge of your sister slave’s limits. You will tell me when to stop. But each call for mercy will come with a price.”
As she spoke Aya began to tie lengths of rope to the two trees and snapped her fingers at Layla, “Come along, you know the position, arms up. I want to be able to get at all of you.”
Layla obediently stood and held her arms up and her legs spread in the classic ‘X’ position that Faith was beginning to recognize. As Aya began tie her, Layla moaned out the words, “Oh thank you, Mistress, thank you so much.” Soon she was bound, arms up and wide, feet flat on the ground spread wide and tied to the same trees as her arms were. Aya glanced at Faith, “You next.”
Faith flinched and almost spoke again, her eyes wide. Hesitantly she stood and approached, her face filled with unspoken questions. Aya nodded, once again pleased with how quickly the habit of obedience was becoming ingrained into this new slave’s every action. “Good, stand facing her, press your body against hers, arms too.” Soon Faith found herself bound in a Mirror image, facing her sister, their bodies tight against one another. Aya had even bound them about their waists and again at the shoulders. Both girls found themselves face to face, breast to breast, noses touching, lips gently pressed in a perpetual kiss.
Faith found herself blinking rapidly, nervously, and Layla’s eyes warmed and she whispered gently against her lips, “Don’t be afraid, sister, this is my ordeal. You are here to accompany me on my journey. I am glad you are here.” And her lips parted and she slowly deeply kissed, and Faith leaned closer, opening her mouth, sighing, seeking comfort from her fears.
“A very pretty picture, my two darlings, soon you will share more than kisses.” The cat whistled and Faith felt Layla’s body convulse against hers and a scream filled her mouth. Again the terrifying sound of the whip slicing the air and again the body jerking spasmodically against her own, silently this time, and, inexplicably, Faith found herself bursting into tears. Layla spoke frantically, “Don’t stop it. Please don’t stop it. It has only begun. Believe I need this. Give this to me.”
Faith found herself fighting the ropes holding her, not to escape but to somehow wrap her arms around Layla, to cradle her, hold her. Each blow felt like it was slicing into her own heart. Soon Layla could not contain her cries, burying her face in the corner of Faith’s neck she fought to choke down her screams. Over the girl’s shoulder, Faith could see her Mistress as each time she lifted the whip, each time she selected a target, each time she s at the result. Each blow seemed to start at Aya’s feet and would surge up, her whole body moving, golden, perfect in the sun, and she would snap as the whip would come down, hissing down, driving down. Over and over Aya would meet Faith’s eyes and tip her head, as if daring Faith to call for mercy.
Finally, when Layla was almost Mindless with agony, her cries turning to hoarse howls, her body jerking and writhing, Faith called out, “Stop, please for the love of god, stop.”
To her amazement, instantly Aya stepped back, her brow raised speculatively, and simultaneously, Layla shrieked, “No, oh god no, not yet!”
Quickly and without warning, Aya stepped around behind Faith and to she heard the whistle of the whip, just Microseconds before she felt it impact her back, shoulder blade to hip. For the tiniest of instants it was just impact and sound, then her whole body exploded in agony. Her scream was more shock than anything, and then she heard Aya’s voice, “Each call for mercy will come with a price. And, my dear little slave, the price will go up and up.”
Aya stepped back around and lifted the cat and began once more, bringing it down sharply on Layla’s body.
This time the girl under the whip, screamed out, “Yes, yes, me, whip me.” Faith blinked and shuddered with her own pain and the sudden understanding that her call for mercy had only brought a temporary reprieve. She reeled as she heard the relief and joy in Layla’s voice, as her sister came to the same realization that this was not the end, that it was not over, that her redemption was still within her grasp.
Faith tried to wait, to understand, telling herself that Layla wanted this, needed this, but somehow she could not fight the fear, the fear and, oddly, the curiosity. Her back itched and tingled in a way that was almost maddening. And she could not help but wonder at Aya’s words, ‘up and up’. What would the price be now? Her eyes met Aya’s, her voice barely audible over Layla’s, she begged, “Mercy.”
And Aya paused and s, nodding, knowing that as much as Faith feared it, she wanted to taste it again. “Twice this time, my little slave.”
Again she heard it before she felt it, and this time she was ready and did not scream. And as Aya went back around again, Layla lifted her head and their lips met once more, speaking in soft panting whispers, against her lips, “Yes, you feel it too. You want it too. But do not steal too many from me, little sister.” And once more as the whip tore into her, Layla screamed into Faith’s open lips as if to share the pain.
The third time Faith called, “Mercy,” nothing else was said. All of them knew it was a step in the dance.
Gradually Layla’s cries seemed to take on a different tone, a softer, fuller sound, and Faith could not help but notice the grind of the other girl’s body against hers. Her hips and torso twisting and surging in a steady primal rhythm that Aya seemed to pick up on and enhance with faster, and faster blows, targeted blows that seemed to lick out, kissing Layla’s ass and inner thighs. More than once Faith flinched as a sharp sting of a stray lash found her own tender skin. Layla cried out, her voice throaty, “Mistress, I am on fire, please Mistress, your permission, please.”
And Aya’s voice was jubilant, “Do it for me, do it for your Master.”
And Layla gasped out, “Sister, kiss…” But Faith’s lips cut off the words. The whip continued its dance as Layla began to convulse, soft agonized grunts of pain and pleasure bubbling up into Faith’s open mouth.
Their bodies were slick with sweat, and Aya’s blows were almost lax, when Faith raised her head up again and whispered the word, “Mercy, please.”
Aya’s eyes seemed to glow with approval, “Yes, little slave, I will give you mercy.”
This time it was not the expected four. It went on and on, this time the whip finding them both, curling around them, lacing them together with bands of pain. Faith found herself dancing, writhing, screaming against her sister. And curiously, when she thought she could not bear another blow, another scorching flame of agony, she felt her body soften and her Mind ease in its panic and in that instant she realized what it was that Layla had been seeking. There was a beauty in this, and peace and perfection. And when Aya stopped, only when she stopped, did Faith burst into sobs, and she did not know exactly why. She did not know if it was because of the pain, or if it was because she had wanted the pain, or perhaps because it had ended.
Layla and Faith walked back to the villa, their arms around each other, their hands tenderly tracing the marks of their shared pain and Aya brought them almost gently to her room, pulling them both into her bed, enfolding them into her embrace.
Chapter 6
JD was pleased with the Faith’s progress. It seemed to him that Faith took to anal with relish. Now it was time for him to have a well deserved holiday with Aya. He had some plans that had been percolating in his brain for some time now and he wanted to implement them.
He called Aya and told her to meet him on the boat dock with whatever she needed for the next few days. Aya had made arrangements with Doc to keep things running, with tiffany and Marc’ help, there shouldn’t be anything to worry about. Things would go smoothly. At least, that’s what JD kept telling himself. He then called the Doc to say goodbye and leave some last minute instructions. The doc wished his friend a good time and told him not to worry, all will be well.
“I’ll definitely have a good time and you know how to reach me if you need to. Good bye, Doc.”
Aya had initially felt delighted and blessed when JD had told her that he intended that they spend some time alone together. Those times when they could be truly alone, allowing her to focus completely on serving him, those times were becoming increasingly rare and precious.
But as the day to leave approached, she’d become increasingly uncomfortable. Too many things had been left undone when JD had forced her to live up at the house after her self inflicted injuries. And Faith was at that critical stage of her development when she was letting go of who she had been but was not quite sure who she was becoming. She was easily frightened and confused, and desperately needed frequent guidance, reassurance. Aya trusted the Doctor, Marc, and tiffany but there was a huge part of her that had to be in charge, that just could not let go of the control of the thousand little things that needed to be done to keep the island ticking along like a fine Swiss watch. But her Master’s wishes always took precedence, she tried to leave endless lists of things to be done, spoke at length with Marc and tiffany about her wishes regarding Faith’s continuing transformation and finally as the morning dawned, walked down to the dock, her small bag of personal items in one hand.
JD headed down to the boat dock to meet Aya. She came down carrying a duffle bag slung over her shoulder. There wasn’t a whole lot in it as she figured she wouldn’t be wearing many clothes on this trip. As she came to
JD, she started to kneel. JD stopped her, kissing her lips very softly.
“Good morning my pet, are you ready to start our holiday?”
Aya was looking forward to this holiday, but had some trepidation. She looked at JD and replied, “I am very much ready to start. I am looking forward to serving and pleasuring you for as long as you wish.”
“You will find that this holiday will be like nothing we’ve had before. We have needed this time to get our bearings back on track.”
His words were a little confusing but Aya chose to accept them rather than analyze their meaning. It would all be revealed in the end.
JD stepped onto the deck of his 20 foot Bayliner and beckoned Aya to come aboard. He told her to start the engines. He cast off to the dock worker. Climbing up to the bridge, he throttled up and took off. Aya sat in a chair on the deck watching JD pilot the boat to their special place.
It was a beautiful day and Aya sat watching her Master’s face as they ran around the island in the boat, drinking in his expressions of pride and satisfaction as he piloted the boat, she tried to put the worry out of her head. She told herself that nothing could go so far wrong that it couldn’t be remedied once she returned. Oddly she did not let herself think of what her Master may have in Mind. Somehow the idea of serving him, being his, was too precious, and somehow frightening. She did not fear him, she feared failing him again. As she sat on the deck she wondered at the swirling thoughts that were so much at odds to her calm demeanor.
