Forty Four Hours

Forty Four Hours

Twilight engulfed Continental Flight 1837 as it descended into mountain daylight
time.  As other passengers dozed or continued reading, the woman seated in 19F
flicked on the overhead reading light and pulled the folded letter once more
from the side pocket of her carryon bag.  The tiny overhead bulb illuminated the
features of her face and hands.  Long slender fingers quivered slightly as they
slowly unfolded the paper.  Her liquid blue eyes focused on the words printed
off her computer the previous evening.  Her mind began once again to process the
words, stopping and rereading each sentence.

My dearest

What a pleasant thought that you've decided to come to me this weekend.  What
you seek is here and all can be consummated in the 40 plus hours we will have
together.  I want to remind you of a few things, things that can add
immeasurably to your weekend if you put your mind in the proper perspective.

First, I again want to remind you that I am married, and, while I plan to be
with you most of those precious hours, there will undoubtedly be times I will
not be by your side.  Those times are unavoidable and will be kept to a minimum. 

Secondly, while I'm not with you, I've arranged certain activities that will
occupy your time.  Some of those you will endure alone, some may be times where
selected and trusted friends will be visiting you to assure a complete
experience for both you and I, as well as themselves.

We've discussed via email and phone your need for dominance and humiliation. 
Yet I assure you, Kara, that until you've actually experienced what is in store
for you, you have an incomplete mental framework of what that will involve.  By
the time you crawl back on that plane, you'll have an unquestionable and clearer
picture of the submissive experience, and perhaps yourself.

Again, upon arrival, take the shuttle to the Marriott.  My friend, Lori, is the
manager there and she will have certain facets of the weekend and instructions
explicitly prepared.

I understand the tension and overwhelming apprehension you must feel. It will
pass.   Do not disappoint me and I assure you, I will not disappoint you.  The
weekend will be worth your time and servitude.  I'll see you at midnight.

Mistress Sophia

Kara folded the letter and returned it to the side pocket of her bag.  She
settled back in her seat and folded her arms across her breasts and let out a
long thin sigh to control the nervousness that flowed through her body and
closed her eyes once again.

Mentally she rummaged through the events that led to this weekend journey.  She
had been with her domme', Maya, twice since the initial claiming.  On the second
of these, Maya had been displeased at her willingness to accept the role as a
complete submissive.  Perhaps it was the closeness of the friendship each of
them had with Debra; perhaps the attitude that she wasn't completely open to
things Maya orchestrated; or perhaps she was still attempting to top from the
bottom.  Over four weeks ago, when she had arrived at Maya's home, Maya had
refused to subjugate her and instead told her that she needed further training. 
She strongly urged Kara to contact a domme' in Denver.  That contact quickly led
to the demand that Kara rid herself of familiar surroundings and travel to the
Mile High City for a weekend to spend an appropriate amount of time with
Mistress Sophia.  Should she pass an attitude adjustment and fully acknowledge
her position, her status as pet to Maya would be restored, but only if Sophia
was satisfied with her demeanor and performance.

Arrangements were hastily concluded and dates were bantered about and finally a
suitable weekend was agreed upon.  For Kara, it was a weekend when hubby had
scheduled an out of town baseball trip to Detroit, thus providing her an excuse
to visit "an old friend from her days with a former employer."  She booked
reservations and left, the ruse hidden from her spouse.

Now the tires of the aircraft thudded against the concrete and the contact again
with mother earth jolted her back to reality.    The low whine of the engines
died and the front door opened sending 89 people scrambling to the aisle and
pulling traveling possessions from under seats and overhead bins.  She avoided
eye contact, shouldered her carryon bag and slowly walked out of the plane.       

At the lower level she found the shuttle bus to the Marriott and slumped into
the seat, her heart beginning a familiar pounding and her eyes nervously darting
down to her body.  Waves of conflicting emotions rolled through her and the ride
to the hotel was all too brief.  She glanced again at her watch and noted the
time ... 8:35 p.m.  There were 44 hours ahead of her until her flight left
Sunday afternoon.

Trying to ignore the pounding inside her body she walked toward the hotel
reception desk and timidly asked the desk clerk if there was a "Lori" present. 
He nodded politely and disappeared into the back room.  Kara stepped back and
glanced over her shoulder at the lobby door ... still time to flee.

"I'm Lori.  May I assist you?"  The voice jerked Kara out of her thoughts and
she turned and stood mute momentarily.  The voice belonged to a woman with hair
the color of straw, about 5' 2", a body slightly heavy for her frame, piercing
gray eyes but a warm, cherubic smile that seemed pleasant.

Slowly she forced the words from her lips, trying not to show the anguish within
here soul.  "I'm ... Kara ...  uhh ... I was told to ask for you?  Sophia
...told me to ask for you."  As she spoke she continued to size up the woman
whom she took to be around 30.  Somehow this was not was she was expecting and
the mental picture of Lori she had previously formed quickly left her mind. 

As she tried to discern what Lori knew, if she was domme' or sub, Lori spoke. 
"Yes, of course, Kara ... Welcome.  Follow me into the lounge, we'll talk
there." 

Kara followed her hostess through the elegant marble-tiled lobby and into the
dimness of the lounge.  Lori motioned to a corner table and Kara sat with her
back to the other occupants of the bar, not wanting to glance at anyone for any
reason.  A dark haired Hispanic waitress approached and smiled warmly at Lori,
then look straight at her with a slight smirk.  She asked for drink orders. 
Kara was about to order a Manhattan when Lori spoke, "coffee for both of us,
Angelique." Kara saw the barmaid cast a glance at her and turn away.  For a
moment her eyes followed the slimness of Angelique's legs and feet. 

After brief chitchat about the flight, Lori leaned over the table and expounded
directly at Kara.  "I've reserved a room on the top floor, a junior suite.  All
you need is there, munchies, drinks, wine ... and of course, a few things Sophia
required."

The little drums in Kara's body pounded louder as if they would break through
the skin. She knows ... dear god.  She knows ... ran through her brain.  The
tension found its' way through her body and awakened her senses and her full
bladder.  "I'd like to be excused ... the ladies room..." she stammered.

"No.  Sit right there for a few more moments.  There will be time for relieving
yourself soon.'' The cherubic face retorted.  "We need to cover a few salient
points, first."

Leaning farther across the table and over her coffee cup, Lori continued, "When
you leave the bar, you are to go straight to your room.  You are to place all
your clothing, including what you have on now, the black party dress you were
instructed to bring, even your purse ... all in the closet.  There's a metal
locking bar we've installed with a padlock. Everything ... all your clothing in
the closet except for the pair of black thigh highs and heels.  Place the bar
across the closet door and lock the padlock.  Are you understanding this?"

Kara only nodded.

"Sophia has the key.  Then place all the personal items, toys you were to bring,
on the bureau across from the bed.  Shower.  Reapply your entire make up and
then, and only then, you are to pee.  Now listen ... you are to stopper the tub
and pee in the tub.  Don't dare think about doing otherwise, or the weekend is
over."

Kara nodded weakly and felt the crimson blush spread over her cheeks and down
her neck.  She ran her right hand across her face as if to remove the telltale
signs of nervousness.   Dear god, she knows all...me ... in front of a stranger
..."

Lori began again, "put on the thigh highs and the black heels.  Then, there are
three pieces of masking tape stuck to the carpet.  Find them.  Your nose goes on
the small one and your hands alongside your face, your knees are to be placed
squarely over the other two squares of tape.  You'll see them.  You are to
remain like that until Sophia arrives.  If you want something to eat or drink,
and I might mention now that Mistress wants you to enjoy the wine, do it before
you take your position on the tape.  Understand?"

Again Kara nodded her acquiescence of the instructions.

Sliding the room key card across the table Lori concluded, "I believe it's time
for you to go.  Be in place on the tape no later than 10:00 p.m.  Oh, and one
more thing ... you are not to speak until you are addressed.  If someone enters
the room, you are not to remove your face from the tape, not to look around ...
understand?  Once you are in position, consider yourself a statue, frozen. Now
go..."

Kara rose and without looking back followed the signs to the elevator.  The
pressure in her balder quickened her pace and she entered the shaft and inserted
the keycard for the top floor.  She exited the elevator and found the signs
pointed to room 801.  She paused outside the door and then with a quick motion,
slid the card through the slot and entered her prison.

She hurried quickly through the predetermined routine, sighing as she snapped
the padlock in place, locking her clothing within the small closet.  Thoughts
rushed through her mind ... what if Sophia doesn't come ... I'm naked, trapped
... a strange city ... alone. Naked ... dear god ... what if Lori's not here
...if something goes wrong ...

She dismissed the fears and placed the personal items on the bureau.  She rushed
to the shower and cleansed the residue of the trip from her body and hair.  As
she toweled off, she glanced in the mirror and observed her nakedness, her
shaven sex, her toned thighs, small breasts and slim ankles and long feet. 
Finally after her hair was restyled and makeup applied, she stoppered the tub
and squatted and relieved herself in the white tub.  The first streams
splattered and then the lower area of the tub was slowly covered.  She was
amazed at how it looked, all yellowish and slightly odorous filing the lower
reaches of the tub.

Stepping from the tub, she sat on the edge of the bed and ran the hose up each
leg to the upper parts of her thighs and slipped on the heels.  Satisfied, she
looked at the clock by the bedside. 9:30, 30 minutes to consume something to
satisfy her hunger and thirst and the nervousness.  After consuming two glasses
of wine and nibbling at two of the small sandwich halves and a piece of fruit,
she rose and explored to find the tape squares.  She breathed a sigh of relief
at her discovery and then quickly realized the position it would leave her in. 
Her face would be away from the door, her knees up under her tummy with her slit
pointed directly at the entry door of the room.  She sighed heavily and looking
once at the clock on the bedside table, realized that 10:00 was rapidly
approaching.  She sank to her knees, placing them over the two larger spots of
tape and placed her nose on the smaller square and her hands against her face. 

Please... Mistress ... please ... come quickly

Time passed.  She almost dozed off only to be startled by the sound of the door
opening.  She quickened her breathing as footsteps clicked across the marble
foyer of the suite.  The footsteps paused momentarily.  Her body trembled ...
how much time had passed, was it Midnight?   The footsteps resumed and a light
in the ceiling flicked on illuminating her kneeling body.  Somehow she had
missed the light in the ceiling above her.  The footsteps entered the bathroom,
clicked across the floor and she heard the tub being drained.  The footsteps
resumed and came closer and paused. A navy blue open toed sling encasing a small
feminine foot was pressed between her face and the carpet.  "Lick ..." the voice
said.  Kara quivered.  A willing tongue complied as one foot and then the other
was placed under her lips.  Kara dragged her tongue over the leather, the open
toes and the graceful arch of the foot.  As quickly as it had appeared in her
view, the foot disappeared and the footsteps receded.  The sound of the door
opening and shutting left her trembling.  Silence returned and she heard her
heart pounding rapidly.  Dear god ... who ... Lori?  Someone else, Sophia?  Who
...?

She remained statue-like on the floor. Her pounding ebbed and slowly subsided,
she felt the familiar secretions matting around her labial lips and she wanted
desperately to wipe them away.  Had the unseen footsteps noticed?  Her mind
raced. Someone ...they... are checking on me... to see if I obeyed...who ... and
had they actually left or had they paused in the foyer and now were watching
her?  She dared not raise her head from the tape and turn to see.

Mentally, she thought one more of her situation and the rapidly building
awareness of what was happening.  Her mind carefully weighted the choices. 
Staying as she was positioned, she knew intense humiliation undoubtedly waited. 
Should she choose to get up and try to leave, she also faced deeply humiliating
circumstances.  Fleeing the room passed through her mind.  After all, she was
unfettered and had the power to leave, albeit with no clothing, perhaps with a
simple bed sheet wrapped around her body, but flee to where, and to whom?   She
knew no one here who would shelter her.  If she stayed, certainly the
depravation would intensify.  At the age of 41, could she actually endure
physically what her mind fantasized?

In essence, she concluded, she had little choice. Humiliation by fleeing
unclothed to nowhere, or humiliation by remaining and becoming subjected to the
whims of others.

She heard the door open!  Her heart beat rapidly once again.  Footsteps, heavier
than the ones she previously heard crossed the foyer and the door shut.  This
time she felt her body resonate with vibrations of footsteps approaching her. 
She quivered and tensed.  The footsteps stopped, and then resumed walking to her
right side.  She heard wine being poured into a glass and the bottle set down on
the bureau.  The footsteps resumed and walked to the chair and she heard the
chair being drug toward her kneeling form, then the sound of the cushion giving
way to a body settling into the softness.  She shifted her hips.  Silence again
permeated the large room.  Countless time passed as the unseen form sipped the
wine.

Then the footsteps resumed and walked in the direction of the bureau, then again
behind her.  She perked her ears and tried to envision what was happening.  The
sound of a rubber glove snapping across a wrist was distinguished from the other
soft sounds and then a finger pressed against her anus.  Cool moisture covered
her anus and a rubber-encased finger pushed against the coolness and into her
rectum.  She cringed and emitted a soft moan.  The finger plunged deeper.  Kara
gasped louder!

The sharp slap of a paddle rocked against her left ass cheek.  " You were told
to remain silent, kunt!  I expect silence!"  The finger probed deeper and hooked
upward into her canal.  She bit her lower lip in protestation.  The finger
continued exploring her and then slowly withdrew.

Steps again plodded around her left and the unmistakable image of the toe of a
woman's black pump was pressed under her face.  "You may use your hands and
remove my heels, kunt!"  The voice was firm and pitched on low octaves.   She
extended her hands and removed both of the black pumps.  "Lick".  Kara extended
her tongue and began running it over the nylon-encased toes.  Silence again
prevailed and only her licking was discernable.  The other foot was pushed under
her face and she let her tongue bathe the softness of that one also.  The gloved
hand reached into her hair and suddenly yanked her head backwards and upward. 
She stared into the face of a woman, about 40, an angular face with high
cheekbones, framed by blunt cut black hair.  Penetrating eyes drilled down at
her and the face, immaculately made up, drew closer to her face.  "Need I tell
you, Kunt, I'm Mistress Sophia?  Hands behind you head, fingers interlaced,
elbows out to your side.  Then you may speak!"

Kara trembled and the grip of the gloved hand raised her face even higher.  "I'm
... Kara, Ma'am..." She could think of no other words and her body quivered as
she replied. 

She positioned her hands behind her head, raised her face and caught the full
presence of Mistress Sophia.  She was tall, very tall, immaculately attired in a
short black skirt and matching jacket that hung open around her shoulders. 
Under the jacket she wore a red silk blouse and her jewelry and make up left no
doubt of her aristocratic femininity.  But it was her face that Kara could not
take her eyes from.  It was framed by jet-black hair, short and tastefully
styled and feathered.  Kara looked into the deep brown eyes ... those, eyes,
dark, showing no nonsense and no mercy. 

The slaps to her face terminated her gaze.  Again the hand struck her across the
cheeks until her face glowed.  "You are not to refer to yourself in any way
except as 'kunt' " she spoke.  "Now let me hear you say it again. Greet me
properly!"

"I'm ... kunt, Ma'am," she stammered."

Mistress slipped her jacket off and laid it across the bed and the scooped neck
top and spaghetti strapped blouse displaying her firm upper body.  Kara noticed
immediately her toned, muscular upper body, the shoulders, arms and upper back
seemingly carved by a sculptor.  She turned and sat again in the chair.  "You
know why you're here, don't you?  Tell me.  I want to hear it all."

"Yes Ma'am."  Kara began to recite her brief acquaintance with Maya, not daring
to leave out any detail.  As she spoke she began to feel more humbled and her
body quivered.

"The success of the weekend is in your hands, kunt.  You'll see that as it
progresses I've left nothing to chance.  You'll do what pleases me."

A light knock at the door and the sound of the keycard and the door opening once
again diverted Kara's attention.  Though now on her knees and her upper body
erect, her back was still to the door but she dared not turn to see who entered. 
The soft click of heels strode across the foyer and into the room.  Sophia's
face smiled and she leaned forward as the cherubic face of Lori bend down to
kiss the crimson lips. 

"And how is the little tart, Ma'am?  I had Angelique, the cocktail waitress,
check on her earlier this evening.  She found her to be rather, well, shall I
say, compliant?"  Kara quivered, realizing the depth of the humility she had
earlier displayed, literally licking a servers foot.  After a warm embrace,
Sophia nodded to Kara's kneeling form, her hands placed behind her head, legs
spread showing her arousal.  "Darling, I think the kunt will be fine; I'm about
to start in on her. You're just in time.  Off duty now, Love?"

Lori nodded and shuffled over to the counter and raised the bottle of wine. 
Empty, she mused,  "I'll order another one to be brought up."  She dialed the
lounge and made her request and then turned and faced the kneeling kuntgirl.

 "So, Ma'am, have you begun testing her endurance?"

"Actually, no.  I was just about to begin.  Why don't you wrap our little
present in something appropriate?"

Lori emitted a light laugh and wrapped a leather cuff on Kara's left wrist and
pulled it behind her back.  She took the right wrist, wrapped it tightly, and
pulled it to join the left one in the small of Kara's bare back.  She snapped
the small padlock through both of the d-rings locking the slim wrists behind
her.  Kara grimaced at the bondage and tested her wrists. Sudden fear swept
through her mind and her look of total helplessness caused both her captors to
snicker.  "I see you've worked her face well, Ma'am," noticing the still red
marks from the slapping to both her facial cheeks.

"Perhaps her breasts need some of the same.  Do the honors, won't you?  I'd like
to sit back and watch, I need to see what she's made of."

Lori took both of the hardened nipples and pulled them out and rolled the buds
until Kara's face grimaced and an anguished look covered her face.  Lori's
release of the nipples was followed by a slap to the right breast and she
alternated her slaps from the right one to the left.  Kara emitted a loud groan
as the severity continued, building and covering the soft undersides of the now
reddening mounds.  Tears formed in Kara's eyes and she begged silently until she
could tolerate no more.  She opened her mouth and screamed, "Mercy!!  Mercy,
Miss Lori!"

Sophia spoke quickly, "Mercy?  Is that your safe word?  None are permitted here,
slut!"  'Mercy' is that I don't allow Lori to slap you harder!  I harbor dark
desires, kunt!  And you are to remain silent!  Continue, Lori!" 

------------

Maya tossed the novel onto the coffee table and shifted restlessly on the small
sofa of her home.  Each time she drifted and closed her eyes her mind wandered
to Kara and what she might be enduring in her first few hours with Sophia.  Her
thoughts recalled the first meeting with Sophia in September at the Folsom
Street Fair in San Francisco.  She'd met her at one of the exhibits where a new
slave was privately being degraded.  She'd marveled at Sophia's expertise with
the flogger as she covered the girl, barely 20, with soft blows of the flogger
until her skin was reddened from her lower thighs to her breasts, front and
back.  Conversation led to the two of them canvassing the fair together and
discovering their dominate desires.  She recalled her piercing eyes and short
black hair and exquisite figure with large breasts amply displayed by the
leather top she was wearing.  Throughout the day they became intimate, closely
bonded by their similarities.

Sophia was tall, 44 and married to an older, distinguished man, a rancher who
owned a large ranch and considerable land-holdings north of Denver.  She spent
little time with Calvin at the ranch, preferring to remain in the historic
district of the city in her restored townhouse.  At their marriage he had
presented her with the title to a small farm of 200 acres nestled against the
foothills of the Rockies.  The farm, while dilapidated, was slowly restored and
provided a source of amusement and refreshing moments for the tall, articulate
woman.  By profession she was the assistant director of an art museum in the
city.  While the job rarely demanded her full attention, it provided her with
fulfillment and a host of interesting people from which she drew inner
satisfaction.  Calvin definitely found Sophia to be a trophy wife; yet sexually
he did little to satisfy her cravings.  Those she found in her continued desires
of domination.  Several women and an occasional male had found themselves as
guests, willing or unwilling, at her farm for days on end.  

During Maya's visit to the farm, she witnessed one such hapless young woman
being broken as if she was one of the animals ... pigs, cattle, horses ... that
roamed the fences and fields of the farm.  Sophia's hobby was training horses
and her dominant attitude served her well in dealing with the
sometimes-recalcitrant beasts.

Now Maya imagined where her distant slave might be ... in the hotel?  Or perhaps
sequestered at the farm? Or was she imprisoned in the tastefully decorated
townhouse in the city with the no-nonsense dungeon tucked away on the upper
floor.  She knew Sophia had a reception at the museum that evening and would
arrive late to meet Kara.  She wondered if she had been too demanding of Kara,
to send her to certain degradation at Sophia's skillful hands.  She knew Sophia
to be one who took what was before her, to toy with the object and use her as
she saw fit, ignoring the pleadings of the slave.

As she pondered, her fingers skillfully found her erogenous zones and her hands
found the wetness between her own legs and worked her clitoris to orgasm,
imagining the torment Kara might be enduring.

(End of part 1)

7Forty Four Hours

Part Two

Kara bit her lower lip.  Her body quivered and her breathing became more
erratic. For the first time in her sporadic experiences she felt completely
helpless to stop or meliorate the situation in which she now found herself.  Her
mind raced, paused, and raced through the possibilities searching for
alternatives, anything at all that would allow her to regain some semblance of
control or that would allow her to barter some measure of compromise.  There was
none. 

Kara looked down at her breasts, reddened and slightly swollen from Lori's
prolonged slapping, and watched wide-eyed as two hands pulled her right breast
out, compressed the base and slipped the thick purplish rubber band over the
distended globe and manicured fingertips rolled the band up tightly around the
base of that breast.  The procedure was repeated on her left breast and now she
watched as the globes began turning the slightly purplish color.  She gasped
slightly at the simplistic, yet so effective technique and her eyes again looked
up at two people seemingly intent on testoing every ounce of resistance out of
her tiring but electrified body.  She rocked slightly backwards and forwards as
if to find a way to ease the spreading discomfort. Her eyes begged, pleaded for
relief but it only increased the tenderness in her knees from kneeling on the
carpet.  Her body began to ache.  Her mind yearned for some measure of relief.

Mistress Sophia sat casually in the blue wing-backed chair and cast an
occasional glance in Kara's direction.  Her attention focused on Lori as she
related the events of the evenings fundraising event for the museum.  Kara was
stunned at how purposefully she was being ignored.   She began to feel more like
an object and her psyche wanted to rebel, to say something, to be noticed, to be
given some credit for the overwhelming discomfort and objectification she was
experiencing.  Mentally she was in shreds.  Her rocking intensified as if to
say, "notice me!"

She heard the knock at the door of the suite.  "Ahh!  That must be the wine!" 
Lori smiled and raised her voice, "Come on in!"

The click of the key card in the slot preceded the opening of the door and the
entrance of an unknown waiter.   The door opened and Diaz entered and his dark
eyes focused on the naked, cuffed woman.  He gasped and stopped in the foyer. 
Lori smiled and nodded for him to enter.  Somewhat reluctantly, he pushed the
linen draped serving cart containing the wine, fresh glasses, a cheesecake, and
brandy and desert plates into the room.  "Miss Lori, I've ... I brought the wine
and dessert items... but, but ...I should ...   go..." his eyes riveted on Kara.

A sly smile crossed Sophia's face, "No, stay." 

Lori quickly introduced Diaz to Sophia and motioned for Diaz to place the tray
on the small table. 

Kara's disheveled countenance became immediately more embarrassed.  Her thoughts
elicited each factor of her helplessness and exposure.  Her face blushed and she
squirmed as if to hide her nakedness from the waiter.  She looked down at her
swollen breasts, and her body that had begun to glisten from the beads of
perspiration.  Idle glances passed between the two women and Sophia's mind began
to work as she saw Diaz stare at Kara and the nervousness that now overwhelmed
her body.

Sophia seized the moment and spoke to the waiter, "Diaz, you seem perturbed,
disturbed.  I assure you what you're seeing is perfectly natural.  Some women
play bridge, some shop, some, like us, do other things.  Now be a good boy and
hand me a glass off the tray, would you?  The young waiter nervously slipped his
fingers around the base of the goblet and handed it to Sophia, his eyes never
leaving the humiliated Kara.

Sophia grinned as she took the goblet and pressed it between Kara's moistened
slit, settling the base against the floor and the rim of the glass between her
moistened labia.  "Kunt, I believe I'd like to see you fill the goblet for us. 
So pee while we talk."

Kara emitted a soft mournful "dear god please, no"

Sophia's open hand slapped at Kara's face nearly knocking her from her kneeling
position.  "One more word, slut, and Lori and I walk out of here right now and
leave you to him.  Is that what you want?  Is it?  We're waiting..."

Kara shook her head no.  She broke into a quivering sob and small tears caressed
her cheeks.  With futile effort, she worked her wrists against the cuffs and her
fruitless struggles resulted in snickers from Sophia.   Trapped...like a
prisoner... why... is this what I bargained for...  Never had she envisioned
this degree of degradation actually happening, though she'd fantasized countless
times of similar situations.  And now, here she was; experiencing what to Sophia
was mere child's play.  She painfully recalled the old axiom, 'be careful what
you wish for, for it may come true...'

"Then, kunt, I suggest you fill the goblet, or, do you wish me to send you back
with Diaz?  Perhaps down to the kitchen staff ... naked ... tied across the
cart?" She tilted her head back and laughed.  "I can see that so vividly. 
Certainly you can well imagine what would await you there.  Would that make you
more comfortable?"

Kara shook her head back and forth furiously.  She strained and though her
bladder ached from the pressure, nothing happened.  She relaxed her muscles,
closed her eyes, and the yellowish liquid dribbled, then streamed into the faux
crystal.  Laughter echoed from Sophia and Lori and the waiter gasped as he
witnessed what he saw. 

All will to resist ebbed from Kara's rapidly spinning mind.  She knew she had
now relinquished power to Sophia and Lori with each moment.

"Look at her, Lori, Diaz."  Sophia's face glowed.  She then turned to Diaz,
"Remove the goblet from between her legs and empty it in the bathroom."  Diaz
paused, looked at Sophia and then walked to the kneeling slave and carefully
removed the goblet. He carried the treasure to the bathroom and returned.

"Diaz?" Sophia turned toward him and slowly let the words roll from her lips,
"Have you ever fucked a gringo bitch?"

Trembling consumed Kara's body and her shoulders and upper arms began to shake
noticeably.  Her upper body slumped forward and her swollen purplish breasts
hung with her swollen nipples now pointed at the floor.  The pounding resumed in
her breasts and her mouth fell open as if to speak.  The previous hours had left
her confused; dazed and constantly unsure where the next attack upon her psyche
would emanate from or what form it would take.  Each attack, each wave of
humiliation sank her deeper into submission.  Her mind was exhausted and her
body ached from the kneeling position she had endured for hours.  

Sophia instantly noticed the despair that washed over the slaves' body and the
sharp command to kneel straight again brought her back to the proper position.  
Satisfied, Sophia continued, "Have you, Diaz?  The bulge in your trousers tells
me you want her." 

He nodded at Sophia's words, yet remained standing still glaring at what he saw. 
Sophia looked at the fear sweeping over Kara's face. She smiled knowing she had
struck a nerve and crossed a line that Kara had never expected.

"That will do.  Leave us, Diaz" her voice sternly admonishing the confused
waiter.  An intense sigh of relief emanated from the slave girl.  Diaz gathered
his wits and departed.

"One thing you need to understand, kunt.  "Sophia spoke at Kara, "there will be
times in the remaining hours you'll have strange eyes glaring at you.  He won't
be the last.  I suggest you get used to it.  Do you understand me?"

Kara nodded meekly.

With a fluid motion, Sophia stood and walked to Kara.  She removed the cuffs
from her wrists.  "Now slave, we need to be served in an appropriate manner,
which you'll do without hesitation. Think of us a honored guests at a dinner
party." she motioned to the serving tray and succinctly suggested her actions. 
"Now, stand and serve us."

Kara struggled to her feet.  The flimsy attempts at standing reminded Sophia of
a newborn colt attempting to stand for the first time. Blood rushed back into
her slave's knees.  She watched, her lips half open, as Kara stood on her
shaking legs. 

Kara walked cautiously to the cart, her breasts still compressed and swollen by
the rubber bands.  She began the simple act of submissiveness, serving slices of
cheesecake and filling glasses with wine and brandy and presenting it to each of
the women.  Her next instruction was to serve her own plate and place it on the
floor and eat kitten style.  She placed the plate on the carpet and knelt on her
knees and elbows.  Lori poured wine into a small bowl and sternly spoke, " Eat,
like the simple house cat you've become."  Kara lowered her face into the creamy
confection and mouthful by mouthful consumed the cake and licked the bowl. She
turned to the small bowl of liquid and sucked like a kitten.   More wine was
poured into the bowl and again consumed.  Conversation passed between the two
friends and the slave bitch was largely ignored except for an occasional comment
tossed at her as to her broken status. 

Sophia glanced at the clock on the nightstand and mused at the lateness of the
evening.  "It's 2:00 a.m. sweetheart and I must be going.  But there's a couple
of things to accomplish this evening."  She rose from the sofa, setting her
plate aside and draining the last of the amber fluid in her glass.  She looked
at Kara and spoke a single word, "kneel." 

Sophia reached into her purse and withdrew a thin black leather collar
embellished with crystal.  A single small d-ring hung in front.  She ordered
Kara to kiss the collar, then fastened it around her neck and closed a small
hinge at the back, snapping it shut.  She tightened a small setscrew with a thin
tool Kara could not see.

 "I've had this one modified a bit, just so you know, Sophia spoke, "The buckle
has been replaced with a simple hinge lock and setscrew for reasons you'll
understand later."  She clicked her leash in place and turned Kara towards the
full-length mirror.  "Look at it closely.  Touch it."  Kara lifted her hands to
her neck and ran her fingers over the leather, touching the crystals embedded in
the collar and fingered the d-ring that hung down an inch in front just over her
throat.

"What are you now, kunt?  What do you see in the mirror?" Sophia asked.

"A slave, Mistress, a collared slave," came the soft reply.

"It's a good beginning."  Picking up her crop she glanced at Lori and inquired,
" How many rooms are on this floor, Darling?"

Lori paused momentarily and replied, "18, Ma'am ... Nine on this end of the
floor, then the elevators and then nine more.  Why do you ask?"

"Pets customarily need to be walked before bedtime, wouldn't you agree?"

Lori laughed slyly and responded, "You are a devil!  But, I couldn't be seen in
the hallway.  Too risky for me if some of the staff should happen to be cruising
the floor.  Diaz was no problem; he knows he's hanging by a thread with me
anyway, but I don't want to push my luck."

Sophia tugged at the pets' leash and pulled her to hands and knees.  Kara began
to fully understand the simplicity and total abject humility of what was to
occur; she wanted to resist but mentally she was exhausted.  She reluctantly
crawled and followed the tall aristocratic woman to the door.  Sophia turned and
looked down at the pet, sensing the humility, knowing she had become completely
broken in the course of the past few hours. "You're to follow me, stopping at
each door between here and the elevators.  You'll lick the carpet in front of
each door we pass, all nine of them.  When we reach the elevator I have an idea
rolling through my head that you'll follow.  Any protestations on your part and
we'll return to the suite and I'll tie you to the serving cart, roll you to the
elevator, push all the buttons for each floor and let you end up in the lobby. 
You do understand, don't you, kunt?"

A simple "Yes Mistress" was the soft reply.

Her face reddened as the door was opened and the Mistress took her pet on a
final pee walk for the evening.  The door softly shut behind her and Kara
followed clad in only her hose to the first door and bent her upper body to the
carpet and licked the floor just outside of suite 802.  A tug of the leash and
the humbled animal crawled to the next door and repeated the same procedure. 
Sophia's crop slapped harshly at the exposed ass cheeks and the pet struggled to
keep pace with her owner.  As they reached the door of suite 805 Sophia looked
at the hapless pet and spoke, "Brush your nipples against the carpet, here,
outside this door and at all the remaining doors. If I'm pleased I'll allow the
rubber bands to be removed before I leave.  But I want to see those swollen nips
brushing the floor.  You do understand, don't you?" Kara nodded and spoke a
simple yes Mistress.  She brushed her nipples heavily against the hallway rug
and grimaced at the pain.   She crawled toward the last of the doors, her knees
aching from the rug burns that ravened her skin through the black thigh hi's. 

Finally at the elevator, Sophia spied what she hoped to find ... a brass
cigarette butt receptacle situated between the two elevators.  She tugged on the
leash and pulled the pet to her knees, then to her feet and led her body over
the cigarette canister filled with white sand.  "Kittens like to pee in sand,
don't they, so you may pee here, slut.  Straddle it and show me your compliance.  
And remember the serving cart..."

Kara didn't have to be reminded.  She nervously straddled the canister and
positioned her sex over the white sand with the little "M" emblem molded in the
sand.  She relaxed and taking careful aim, let her bladder release, spewing her
urine into the sand.   The sand darkened from the pee and the forceful stream
obliterated the molded "M".  Bits of sand and urine splattered against her upper
thighs.

The tug of the leash returned her to her rug-burned knees.  Sophia pushed the
elevator button and looked closely into the stunned face of her subject. 
Moments passed and the intense beating of the drum within her body pounded Kara
into anguish.  The bell chimed and elevator door opened to an empty carriage. 
Kara gasped audibly and the foyer echoed with the laughter of her Mistress.

"Must be your lucky evening, kunt!"  Sophia led her quickly back to the suite
and related the events to an equally amused Lori.

Turning to the pet she pulled her to her feet and opened her lips and kissed her
deeply.  "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon.  I leave you in Lori's care and
perhaps a few others you'll meet at appropriate moments."  The taste of her
Owners lips against hers caused her to tremble with passion and desire, desire
pent up from hours on end of the torment she had endured. 

Sophia returned to Lori and kissed her passionately and winked, "You know my
plan ... have her there on time."  She walked to the door and exited the room.

(end of chapter two)

Forty-Four Hours, Part 3

Drapes being pulled open and sunlight flooding the room caused the slumbering
form to stir slowly.  The instinctive turn to avoid the unexpected sunlight and
the sharp feel of the stainless steel collar jerking her neck back to the bed
momentarily startled the slave.

Kara's first thoughts were disoriented until she remembered where she was and
the confinement of the collar Mistress Sophia placed around her neck hours
before.  Her hand went instinctively to the collar and found the chain padlocked
at the d-ring of the collar.  From the d-ring, her hand followed the chain until
it found the other end, padlocked around the bed frame.  She toyed with the
padlock there and let her hand return to her nude body. 

Kara nodded weakly as Lori approached the bed.  There was a subtle softness that
she found to be almost comforting.  From her robe the hotel assistant manager
produced the keys that opened both of the padlocks "It's after ten. You have to
get cleaned up, so drag your butt into the bathroom and be quick about it."

Kara rubbed her neck where the collar still remained secured and nodded. 
Methodically she stumbled into the bathroom and relieved the fullness in her
bladder and bowels and turned on the shower. The shower awakened her body and
mind and brought back the concluding moments of the evening after Mistress
Sophia left.  She recalled her mistresses parting kiss and then the silence that
penetrated the room until Lori had grabbed her by the hair and flung her to the
bed forcing her face under her skirt and into her naked sex.  She'd serviced
Lori until her explosion coated her face, then dragged to one side of the bed
and secured her to the king sized bed.  Sleep had come quickly to her exhausted
body.

She turned off the shower, finished her routine and emerged from the bathroom. 
Lori had ordered breakfast and Kara knelt naked with her hands clasped to her
ankles and mouthed at a plate of fruit, eggs and toast on a plate balanced
delicately on Lori's lap.  Coffee she lapped and sucked from a saucer.  Lori
took a folder piece of paper from her robe and handled it to Kara.  "Read it,
slave; it's from your Mistress."

Kara picked up the note.  She unfolded the pale lavender paper and began to
read.

	Slave

	By now you've acquired a taste of what I'm all about (and a taste of
Lori as well, literally and figuratively, if I know her as I think I do.)  I
trust you are not disappointed.  I know thus far I am pleased at what has
transpired. 

	I will continue your torment, humiliation and servitude at my ranch
outside the city in the foothills.  There you'll be subjected to more of what
you've received.  Shortly, my handler will arrive to transport you to the ranch. 
You are to obey Lori fully as well as the demands of your handler.  I will join
you during the afternoon.  You may miss me now, and I suspect you do, but when
you gaze upon my countenance, you'll fear me.

	I know you've touched your collar around your slave neck.   It is an
outward symbol of an inner mystical journey into a high state of consciousness;
in this case consciousness of your submission.

	Until you gaze upon me,

	Mistress Sophia
  
Kara folded the note and a soft smile almost crept over her face and looked at
Lori briefly.  A moment of compassion and understanding passed between the two
women.

She paused and spoke, "May I ask a question?"

"You are not permitted questions at this point", snapped Lori.  She walked to
the dresser, compassion receding with each step, and opened a drawer.  She
returned with two black strips of cloth and a pair of cuffs connected by about
12 inches of thick chain and a set of leg irons. The silence was broken only by
the light clinking noise Lori made as she lifted the chains.

"Kneel, slave.  It's almost time ..."

The cloth was quickly pulled over her eyes trapping her in darkness and causing
a quiver throughout her body.  She felt the cloth being knotted behind her head
and then the other strip pressed against her lips.

"Open your mouth!  Quickly!"

Kara briefly relaxed her jaw muscles and felt the cloth pulled tightly between
her lips and knotted behind her head.  

She felt her left arm being extended in front of her and the coolness of the
metal locked around that wrist and her right wrist treated in the same
fashion... then she felt the pressure of Lori's hands on her shoulders, forcing
her down and twisting her naked body onto her back, her arms extended over her
head with the backs of her palms resting against the floor.  Lori knelt beside
Kara and locked leg irons connected by a short chain around her slim ankles. 
She traced her fingers over Kara's labia and lingered momentarily, probing
gently until she heard her captive's soft moan.  Kara lay still daring not to
breathe as if she would break the spell.  Her body responded to the stroking
against her sex and she was embarrassed at how quickly she wiggled her hips
seeking more.

The ringing of the room phone interrupted the spell.  Lori got up and walked to
the phone.  She uttered five simple words "Bring it up here now."  She put down
the phone and cast a glance at Kara and muttered, "Your handler will be here
shortly.  You are to remain as you are." 

Minutes passed seemingly as hours.  Kara lay as Lori had placed her feeling the
fire Lori briefly ignited within her ebb.  Her mouth was dry and she sucked at
the saliva soaked wad of black cloth tightly embedded between her lips.

The knock at the door of the suite caused a sudden pounding beneath her breast
and she felt the all too familiar trembling roll over her body as Lori open the
door.   She heard brief greetings exchanged and to Kara, it was obvious Lori
knew who entered the suite.

Panic-stricken thoughts and spasms of despair deepened within her as she heard
footsteps approach her prone nakedness from the left side of her body.  Her sex
quickened it's throbbing and she desperately wanted to bring her hands over her
head and cover her most private areas.  Those thoughts were drowned as she felt
a foot placed on the chain connecting her wrists as if the owner of the foot
read her fleeting thoughts.

"She looks like she's scared out of her wits," Kara heard a voice, definitely
male, "Are you sure she's up for this?"

"Just get her ready while I get her things in her bag.  She won't be coming back
here."  Lori turned and looked menacingly at Kara, "slave, these are your
handlers.  They'll take you where you need to be next."  Her footsteps moved
away and Kara heard the closet door open.

"Well, little darling, ain't you a cutie, all chained up," a voice, new,
strange, female, drawled at her.  "Too bad we can't see those eyes of yours,
though, I bet they're big as saucers right now, just wondering what this is all
about! Does seem, though, you're in for a little trip this morning, so I guess
we best get on with it."  She traced her hand lazily against Kara's sex. 
Laughter from unseen faces permeated the room as Kara jerked her hips at the
touch.   The same hand journeyed up the quivering stomach and circled each
nipple squeezing and twisting each hardened bud until Kara moaned into the gag. 
Fingers continued toying with her nipples and another hand touched her sex and
sought out her clitoris.  She tried to twist her body from side to side, jerking
her hips as the pressure on her nipples and clitoris increased.  Spasms of
uncontrollable urge spread through her body until she moaned forcibly into the
gag, her hips bucking wildly.  The slave simply was about to loose control. 
Perspiration beaded on her forehead as the orgasm rolled through her.  Unseen
strangers had just taken her.

Kara heard something heavy plop against the floor and more subtle sounds that
she also could not identify.  She bit hard against the strip of cloth between
her lips sucking her own saliva back into her mouth.  She heard something being
drug closer to her and something flick briefly against the left side of her
body, then footsteps move around to her right.  She felt hands against her, one
on her shoulder, and another on her side just below her right breast, another
hand was at her right hip and another grasped her knee and in unison rolled her
onto her stomach.  She felt the texture against her stomach change from the pile
of the hotel carpet to something smoother.  She screamed into the gag as she
felt the hands push her over on her back again and the smoothness of a heavy
fabric pressed against her outstretched nakedness. She was rolled over again,
then again, each time the fabric heavier, more confining around her.  She
screamed louder though it resonated at a duller tone, even to her own ears.

"You're being rolled in a rug, sweetie, bet you never had this treatment
before," she heard the unseen female voice taunting down at her, "relax, it
ain't going to kill ya! So shut up, you prissy bitch!  We got things to do!"

Unseen by Kara, now a quivering sobbing wreck and on the verge of hysteria, the
man reached into the pocket of his jeans jacket and withdrew two short strips of
hemp and tied them around the rolled rug in the area of her breasts, and then
another in the area of her thighs, drawing the rug tight and preventing it from
unrolling.  Kara felt arms reach under her imprisoned form, discerned a muffled
grunt and felt her body and the weight of the rug lifted as if it were no more
of an encumbrance to him than a sack of grain.  Her body bent slightly as she
was hoisted over his shoulder. 

Lori heard the muffled groans and sobs emanating from the rug and tried to
imagine the abject horror the slave must be experiencing.  Turning to the
taunting woman dressed in jeans and a white western style shirt she handed her
the bag and the keys to the cuffs, "I'll walk with you to the service elevator. 
You'll need my key to activate the buttons." then walked ahead of the party to
the elevator and activated the door.  As the terrified bundle passed into the
enclosure, she said in a raised voice, "Slave, just be still; I'm sorry it has
to be like this!  Give my regards to Mistress." 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sophia lounged in the chair on her secluded patio off her bedroom at the ranch. 
As she gazed at the mountains of the Front Range, she though through the events
she had planned for the next 24-hours.  The faint knock at her door was answered
by a command to enter.  She shifted her eyes to the form of a woman who
approached on her knees, her eyes at the floor, the cordless telephone
instrument held in front of her.  She looked at Jessica and smiled as the 35
year old advertising executive by weekday, slave by weekend, bowed her head and
spoke, "Mistress Sophia, it is Mistress Lori with an update, Ma'am."

Without addressing Jessica directly, Sophia took the phone, cradled it to her
ear, and listened until a smile crossed her crimson lips.  She spoke brief words
of thanks to Lori then silenced the instrument. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a blind, timeless environment, Kara surmised she was in the back of some kind
of truck. She faintly heard the traffic on the road, whatever road it may be,
and the muffled sounds of tires against the road.  Beyond those simple sounds,
her world was dim, unspeakable, alone and confined beyond her here-to-fore
wildest imagination.

Her panic has subsided to emotions of dread and raging fear. Her first thoughts
as the hemp was tied around the rug were that she would fall into hysteria and
her heart would either stop beating altogether or spring from her body.   She
tried to convince herself, or was she merely hoping, that she would be quickly
released.  She had to be!  What raged through her mind was that she now belonged
to the complete mercy of strangers, unseen, and unknown and apparently otherwise
disconnected from her horror.  She squirmed uneasily never able to gain any
measure of true comfort from her outstretched position.  While the confinement
inside the rug shielded her from the suns rays, it also caused her to sweat
profusely and she now felt herself drenched in her own perspiration. 

The ride continued, tires droned against the pavement.  Thirst built insatiably
in her throat.

To comfort her overwhelming fears, she tried to gather what she knew, what she
heard, what she could remember.  She recalled from the previous evening Mistress
saying to have her there on time ... and from her email prior to her flight out
that before she was back on the plane she'd have a better understanding ... and
from her note this morning saying she'd be with her this afternoon ... so her
only hope right now was to dwell on Mistresses words.  Mistress literally was
her only salvation at this point.  

The rug seemed to touch Kara literally over every inch of her naked body.  She
tried to recount the number of times she had been fully turned back in the hotel
suite; vaguely, for some reason, perhaps as a mental refuge from the reality,
her mind recounted being flipped from front to back about five or six times,
thus, she reasoned, there were probably that many layers of the rug around her. 
She knew she had no power to escape. 

The truck slowed almost to a stop and took an abrupt turn.  The road become
rough, the ride bouncing her unceremoniously against the metal floor of the
truck though the rug rolled around her cushioned her somewhat.  Dust filtered in
through the openings at each end of the rug causing her to cough.  Her
conveyance made another turn and finally came to a stop.

Doors shut and voices called back and forth.  Kara attempted to cry out a
frantic help me but it came out as nothing more than a hollow echo in her
cylindrical confinement.  She felt her prison lifted, this time in a more
horizontal way and carried up steps.  She thought she heard a door creak and
then shut. 

She felt herself being lowered and placed against the floor.  Her heart began
racing again as the ropes holding her imprisoned were cut and she sensed the
cylindrical confinement loosen slightly around her... then she started spinning,
rolling around and around.  The last shove against her imprisonment sent her
sprawling, chains clanking, against the base of a dais, which she as of yet
could not see.  She only sensed that freedom and air surrounded her
perspiration-covered body.  The black strips of cloth were hastily pulled off
her eyes and mouth.  She squinted at the sudden environment of light as she
sprawled at the end of the rug. 

Kara looked up to her left and immediately recognized Sophia, seated, dressed in
complete riding attire, shiny black boots, tan breeches, and a white blouse. 
Her blunt cut black hair wickedly slicked back.  A crop dangled from her gloved
hand.

Emotion welled and tears flooded her eyes as her face hugged against the shiny
leather boots.  Tears fell against boots as if they had no other purpose except
to wash the surface. Kara extended her still chained hands forward and grasped
Mistress Sophia's boots holding them and burying her face against the leather,
crying from relief, letting fear ebb from her body and mind.

A delicate finger encased in a black riding glove gracefully reached down under
Kara's chin and lifted her tear streaked face slowly until her eyes gazed
directly into Sophia's. 

"Are you relieved to see my face, slave?"

Sobbing through tears and desperately clinging to Sophia's booted feet, Kara
gave a weak barely discernable reply.
   
 Sophia broke her gaze from the slave and looked at the two handlers.  "How did
she take it?"

The taunting woman spoke, "she was a complete, quivering idiot.  I thought we
were going to loose her at first.  She kicked and screamed like a wild horse."

Kara instinctively turned her face to the right to see the source of the voice
but Sophia's gloved hand grasped her lower jaw and tilted her face straight at
her.  "Don't," she said, "you will never see who they are.  You have no reason
to know.  But they'll always know you, who you are.  Compose yourself and kneel,
face to the floor, hands out in front of you."

Kara complied and Sophia's boot rested on the chain that connected her
outstretched hands.  However, Kara was completely unprepared for what happen
next. 

Music began playing and filled the room. Kara strained to identify the notes and
recognized the macabre strains of the allegro from Liszt's "Totentanz." 
Footsteps entered the room and bodies crowded around her.  Movement ceased until
the music faded.  Sophia's voice broke a prolonged silence. "The supplicant
woman before you ... the one called Kara ... has been sent here to atone for her
transgressions ... and to draw nearer to what lies within her heart and soul. 
Through her own selfishness she failed to learn simple lessons of her humility
at the caring hands of Maya ... one who wishes to claim her.  She is here before
me today at Maya's direction  ... to be admonished for her failures and to be
punished in whatever manner I so chose." 

Kara's tears again flowed down her cheeks and she wanted to race from the room
as Sophia's voice continued. "You will witness and participate in her
humiliation in what remains of her brief time here.  In 24 hours she will leave
here ... unless I decide otherwise."

Sophia turned to her left and spoke, "Jessica, Chuck, you know of my plans.  I
want them carried out on her immediately.  She is permitted no peace until I say
so. Is that clear?" 

Kara heard two voices utter in unison, "Yes Mistress."

Sophia nodded again, this time in the direction of the taunting woman and Kara
heard footsteps approach from behind.  The blindfold was drawn across her eyes
and again knotted behind her head. Sophia lifted her boot from the chain that
connected the slave's wrists. A hand loosely touched her ankles, then her wrists
and removed the cuffs and chains.  She remained kneeling her face to the floor
and heard Sophia's words aimed at her, "Slave, the time of your torment and
humiliation is at hand.  I suggest you reflect on it wisely."

Hands touched her upper arms and lifted her up to her feet, then turned her
around. She felt fingers at her collar and the snap of something around the
d-ring.  She was led slowly, her feet plodding tentatively across the rug that
had been her prison and then onto the cool wooden floor.  She sensed the
presence of whoever surrounded her walking with her.  The tug at her collar was
constant and the fingers clasped around her upper arms never diminished.  She
heard the creaking of the door again and the sensation of warmer air around her
body.  Sunlight bathed her body and her bare feet touched dirt.  The leash was
pulled; she followed beneath the confines of the blindfold.  She wanted to
scream but dared not utter a sound.  The walk continued, the hands never leaving
her arms, the tug at her collar constantly pulling her forward in through an
environment she had never seen.  When she didn't walk fast enough or showed the
slightest hesitation, hands slapped at her naked buttocks.  No words were
spoken.

Her feet continued to plod through dirt, occasionally stumbling over small
stones.  She yearned for the slightest hint of vision and lifted her face to see
if she could peer under the blindfold, but to no avail.  Dirt beneath her feet
turned to rougher surfaces.  She felt the path rise and she shifted her position
using the muscles in her calves, thighs, and buttocks to force her body up the
slope.  She stumbled and hands tightened their grip on her upper arms.  Sun beat
down oh her and she perspired from her effort.  As she pushed her body up the
slope hands swatted at the soft undersides of her buttocks.  Behind her she
heard in the distance the clopping of what she sensed to be a horse pushing its
way up the rocky slope.  The clopping sounds came nearer and then followed as
the tug at her collar increased. 

The terrain beneath her feet leveled and her feet touched soft grass or
something other than the dirt and rocky terrain she had just traversed.  Without
prelude, an unfamiliar voice called out for her to stay.  Movement ceased, as
did the tugging at her neck and the clopping of the horse.  She stood still and
silent.

The movement of bodies approached her again and pulled her arms away from her
body.  Almost as if on command, ropes were tied around her wrists and ankles at
the same time. She was turned slightly and her arms stretched out, her legs
pulled apart.  She felt tension in each of the four ropes and her body being
opened, crudely spread into an X.  

She tugged at each of her extremities instinctively only to find there was
minimum slack in her position.  Anxiety drenched her body like the perspiration
the covered her from the walk to god-only-knows-where.  Her breathing increased
and her heart pounded again like a small drum inside her.  Something tube like
was pressed to her lips and she smelled the freshness of water and drank without
hesitation, letting the coolness sooth her dry mouth and throat.  The tube was
quickly drawn away and the last droplets of water dribbled down her breasts and
tummy.

She heard the clopping of the horse again, this time approaching her from behind
and the animal now so close behind her she could smell it.  Then it stopped. 
Anxiety reigned throughout her. A hand untied and lifted the blindfold.

Kara blinked at the sudden rush of sunlight and her eyes adjusted to the
brightness.  Her eyes drank in the scene.  She was spread between two large
posts, perhaps eight feet tall, sunk into the rocky earth about ten feet apart. 
She indeed was stretched, spread wide, her wrists tied by thick ropes then tied
close to the top of the posts, her legs stretched and tied by ropes leading
around the base of the posts.   From her position she gazed down a sharp slope,
undoubtedly the one she was led up. Her position overlooked the ranch, now
seemingly far below on flatter terrain.  Outcropping of rocks were everywhere
around her.  She was partially shaded by a few tall evergreens, mostly behind
her. 

The horse clopped around her and she gasped as she gazed on Mistress Sophia
fully clothed in English riding attire astride the chestnut horse. 

To Kara's right she saw a man and four women. The man appeared to be around 40,
tanned, muscular and worn a simple brown cloth tied around his waist which did
little to hide his manhood. One woman, an auburn haired stunning creature, was
draped in a short purple tunic.  The other three women were naked save for
moccasin type shoes that probably spared their feet the discomfort her feet had
endured.  Each also wore a collar

Sophia spoke directly at her, "Slave, this will be your position for the next
few hours.  These are my slaves, people who worship me and beg for my attention
on selective weekends at my ranch.   Some pay for this privilege, others I grant
it freely, as do I you this weekend.  They in essence serve me, carry out my
orders, and do my bidding.  Each of them knows that if they fail me punishment
will be meted out to them as well.

She pointed to a tall auburn haired woman;  "Jessica is my personal servant on
weekends, my hand maiden.  She will be in charge of you when I depart and will
oversee your punishment.  She will also be in charge of your urination when it
becomes necessary.  You will ask her permission."

Sophia gestured to the man.  "Chuck over there, pays me for the privilege of
servitude and constructs certain things for me, such as planting these posts to
which you are bound.  Later this evening you may witness more of his work. 
Ronda," gesturing to a petite blonde woman who appeared to be barely 20, "is in
charge of attending to your water.  When you need it, and I might add, you will
need sufficient amounts to avoid dehydration in this sun until it passes behind
the tall pines, you will ask her politely.  Annie and Rikki," Sophia nodded
towards the other two women, "are simple slaves who have submitted to my darker
desires merely for the pleasure of being able to assist in your punishment.  You
are not yet worthy to be beneath my whip.  Perhaps by this evening, that all
will change.  Think of that and reflect on your transgressions as my slaves
punish you."

Kara shook as if the words had been spit into her.  She strained against the
well-worn ropes and her eyes darted from one person to another.  All remained
silent with resolute complicity written over their faces. 

Sophia turned her horse and Chuck removed the saddlebags and laid them on the
ground.  Sophia spurred her horse and the beast began a slow decent down the
rocky slope.  She had descended no more than a hundred yards when she heard the
slave's first scream.

Forty-Four Hours, Part 4

Sophia's departure spawned feelings of abandonment and overwhelming despair for
Kara.  She felt alone, almost as if she didn't want to be here.  Her stamina
faded.  For the first time since her arrival, she began to believe she'd gone
too far, taken beyond what she could endure.  The idea of crying out to Sophia
rolled through her but she let the thought pass.  What if she broke?  Would
broken slaves be treated with some compassion?  Or were they treated worse than
those with the strength to continue?

Now Kara turned her eyes to those who remained on the ridge, looking at them as
if they represented impending doom.  She wondered at their role, and what
latitude they had to impart servitude to her mind and body.  She recalled
Sophia's letter saying that other trusted friends would be assigned to make the
weekend experience as complete as possible, but never had she envisioned this. 
Her head turned sided to side gazing at the posts and the cords that restrained
her.  She shifted her feet and flexed her wrists in an attempt to ease the
discomfort, but nothing alleviated her mental bewilderment or her physical
vulnerability.  She was frightened and she knew it.  Were the others standing
before her aware of just how much?  She saw hands gesture toward her body, heard
words spoken that didn't fully reach her ears and felt glances penetrate beyond
her nakedness.  Dear god, they must know! 

Annie walked toward Jessica and engaged her in a quieter conversation punctuated
by laughter.  Though three years younger than Jessica and in service to Sophia
for half the amount of time, there were shared similarities between the two
women, which created a certain bond.  Both women were single, tall, and
articulate.  As with Jessica, Annie had also met mistress at a woman's
professional business organization in the city where each had attracted Sophia's
attention.   Both were in highly demanding executive positions for their
respective firms.  In Annie's case, these demands led her to seek the personal
solitude of submission where she could explore her inner feelings and the
gratification of servitude.  Now, on select weekends under Sophia, Annie was
finding her true status despite her past experiences as a domme.

Jessica's role was to orchestrate the hours on the ridge and ensure the selected
members added their own intensity to the slave's torment and training as Sophia
had planned.  She nodded silently back at Annie giving her permission to began,
knowing Annie's role was to tease and leave the slave balanced between desire
and frustration.

Annie approached with an athletic poise and a triumphant gaze as if she had just
won a 10k race and was coming forward to claim her prize.  Without speaking a
word or breaking her stare into Kara's eyes, her hands moved to Kara's nipples
and quickly twisted and pulled the thick rose-colored buds.  The unrelenting tug
elicited a scream from Kara that echoed over the bluff and was followed by
plaintive pleas for mercy that was completely ignored.  The blonde tormentor
grinned at the reaction from her prize and repeated the gesture eliciting
another plaintive uttering.  Annie's fingers then roamed downward until they
found the tenderness of Kara's mound and delicately circled her zone until she
saw the hint of moisture; her fingers toyed, plunged, withdrew and started
again.

Her eyes drilled into Kara's eyes.  ""Look at you... horny slut.'  She brought
her face inches away from Kara's and whispered in clipped words while her
forefinger worked at the edge of a vulnerable sex, "You love it, don't you?  I'd
love..." her faced pressed closer to Kara's eyes, "... to have the chance to
have you all by myself ... "

Kara shook her head back and forth, her eyes half closed, her mind trying to
find some realm in which to retreat.  At the same time she couldn't ignore the
sensations Annie's probing created.

Annie gauged the slave's reactions and slowed the probing of her finger,
watching the slave hang on every movement.  She withdrew and let her fingers
lazily trace the slave's outer lips and then work her fingers delicately back
into the warmth and building goo of Kara's treasure pit.   She withdrew again
and let the tops of her nails trace down the taunt muscles of each inner thigh,
then slowly dragged her nails back toward the center of Kara's craving.  She
smiled wickedly as she saw hips strained forward, increasing the pressure
against the ropes. 

Annie circled the hapless prey and approached from behind, separating her cheeks
and dragging her fingers in a feathery touch down her crevice until she found
the puckered anal orifice.  There she lingered.  Manicured nails traced firmly
down perspiring inner thighs again until moans gasped slowly from a parched
mouth.  She heard the breathing of her object start to come in short gasps. Then
she withdrew and stood away from Kara, leaving her inner tensions burning hotter
than the early afternoon sun.

Minutes built upon minutes and passed uncounted as Kara remained spread between
the poles with Annie slowly attacking in a drama that drove the captive to the
edge of sexual release only to retreat and have those same feelings recede like
waves rippling back into the ocean.  As Annie concluded her final assault, Kara
again rocked her hips lewdly thrusting her pussy out into thin air as if someone
among the group failed to notice that she had not cumm.  Twice during that
ritualistic teasing and denial, Kara had pleaded for water and Ronda, true to
her duty as the water bearer, unhesitatingly filled her mouth each time knowing
the inevitable outcome.  Kara, too, felt the pressure in her bladder increase as
the minutes passed.

Annie returned one final time and stood in front of the slave.  She pressed her
own nudity against the slaves perspiration soaked emotional charged body.  Her
long arms wrapped around and pulled their bodies together tightly as if to touch
every inch of flesh against flesh.  Her lips pressed to Kara's and the passion
of an unexpected kiss passed tongue to tongue.  Annie withdrew her tongue and
whispered softly, "You're going to love this ..."

An explosion erupted across the lower curves of Kara's buttocks just above her
outstretched thighs.  Pain followed in microseconds and she jerked forward
deeper into Annie's sinister embrace.  Mesmerized by the rapture of Annie's
embrace Kara failed to sense Rikki moving behind her.  The leather paddle
exploded against her again and her scream mingled with Annie's laughter.  Annie
pressed her palm into Kara's lower abdomen as the third blow crossed her already
inflamed buttocks.  The combination intensified the urge to urinate that Kara
knew she was approaching.  The seductive Annie unlocked Kara from the embrace
and stepped away.  

The transition to Rikki was intended to strike fear into the captive and leave
her mentally pleading for the soft seductiveness of Annie.  Rikki bore little
physical resemblance to Annie.  She was five inches shorter than Annie's 5'10"
height and her body was well defined and muscular.  Her special talent was
giving erotic pain, yet Sophia had warned her not to abuse the slave
unreasonably or leave her unable to endure what was planned during the evening
... her purpose was to simply leave no doubt in the slaves mind that what she
received could be worse.

Rikki walked to the front of Kara and held the paddle up to Kara's lips.  "Kiss
it."  Kara glanced at the slightly flexible piece of leather not more than 2 or
3 inches wide and probably not over a foot long before the flat surface
disappeared in to a well-formed handle.  Rikki rubbed the device over Kara's
body allowing the leather to glide over her flesh, first her face, her neck and
across her breasts, and then up under her armpits, down across the sides, her
tummy and down to her mound.  She repeated the process again, this time tapping
slightly harder leaving Kara dizzy with a mixture of fright and anticipation. 
When Rikki started a series of strokes with the paddle against her lower abdomen
Kara lost her battle to hold back her stream.  With a moan of relief and
embarrassment, she gushed until a damp puddle formed on the ground in front of
her outstretched legs.  The last droplets of her stream trickled out of her
smoothness and down her thighs.  In a makeshift fashion Rikki rubbed the edge of
the paddle through Kara's slit coating it well with the mixture of unfulfilled
arousal and urine then held it to her lips.  Kara stubbornly extended her tongue
and closed her eyes; unable to comprehend in her sun-soaked mind that anything
could be more degrading.  As the slave licked Rikki held her face close to Kara
and said, "that's all for now, puss, but I'll be back later to finish you off
..." she planted a light tap on karas tongue and stepped away.

Jessica walked in front of Kara and signaled for the ropes to be released.  Kara
slumped against the ground falling into her own personal dampness.  As the sun
moved behind the tall trees providing much welcomed shade, Ronda returned with
the water bottle placing it into Kara's lips and squeezed a stream, which her
parched lips accepted.  She allowed her rest then thrust it between her lips
again.  Kara could focus only on the gratification; Ronda though, knew she was
initialing the cycle all over again.  

Ronda, 19 and a first year enrollee at a local art institute, was by far the
youngest member of the group on the plateau that afternoon.  Four months ago she
wandered into the museum needing to perform 100 hours of community service for a
slight indiscretion with the law.   With her papers from the municipal court in
hand she pleaded with the assistant director that she was available to do
anything.  Sophia was always enticed by the word 'anything' so she allowed Ronda
to become an aide in the gift shop, deliberately keeping her hours low.  After
three weeks Ronda realized she'd never meet the court mandated deadline for her
community service and begged to work off the hours more quickly.  Sophia studied
the pixyish-framed darling with the intriguing oversized breasts pressing
against her sweatshirt and told her there might be a way.  At the ranch Ronda
learned the full meaning of the word 'anything'.

Now, the pixyish Ronda looked at the woman more than twice her age lying sweat
soaked and exhausted in dirt dampened by her own pee.  Telltale traces of
redness streaked her firm ass and inner thighs but best of all, her ample
breasts and anguished face seemed treasures to explore.  "I get you next, you
old bitch!  Kneel in front of me."  Kara's face reflected a bewildered
expression of disbelief as she looked at the wisp of a woman at barely over 5
feet tall and scantly more than 100-pounds.  Then she looked pleadingly at
Jessica whose nod only confirmed the nightmare. 

Kara knelt before the pixie.  She quickly grasped the idea of what was coming
but in her present environment felt helpless to alter the course of events. To
her right she heard the steady click of the camera recording for god-knows-who
the bizarre humiliation of the moment.

Using a short thin stick she'd picked up, Ronda lightly pressed the end of it
against Kara's left breast leaving a redish indentation on her skin and then the
right one.  "What are these, bitch?' she asked.

Kara responded almost dumbfounded, "my breasts, of course."

Laughing, Ronda retorted, "no, slut. I have breasts.  You are a slave, so what
do you have?  And slut, look at me when you respond to me, "

Kara sensed where the pixie was going.  She replied barely above a whisper, "I
have tits."

Ronda's chiding tone continued.  "Slut, when you respond to me you will address
me as 'Miss Ronda'.  And when refer to yourself, always use 'this slut', never
anything else.  One more thing, since I now am in charge of you and you belong
to me, you don't have tits. They now are my tits, aren't they?  So lets try this
again."

Ronda probed the stick harder against the fullness both tits and asked, "What
are these, slut?"

Kara raised her face shamefully and looked into the gleeful expression sweeping
over the pixie, "They are your tits, Miss Ronda."

"So if they are my tits, then I guess I can do anything to them I want.  Would
you agree slave, and be very specific with your response?"

"Yes, Miss Ronda, they are your tits to do anything with you chose."

"Kneel up straight, slut.  Cross your hands behind your back and stick 'my tits'
out," her youthful voice adding emphasis the words at the end of her phrase.

Kara did so.

For a few moments, Ronda stood quiet, as did the four other members of the
party.  Then she placed her hands at the base of the slaves left breast and
squeezed until it resembled a swelling piece of fruit ready to explode with
ripeness.  Kara exhaled a sigh of desperation as she saw the contorted
distention of her breast.  Then Ronda's fingers released and began their
ritualistic dance of exploration over what she now owned.  The length and
thickness of Kara's nipples were particularly fascinating to her, so much better
defined than her own.  She cupped, raised then dropped the fullness of each ripe
globe smiling at the still evident firmness and the seductive way they jiggled. 
Her fingers returned to the nipples and she began extending, twisting and
pinching, all the time watching the reaction on Kara's face.  She removed her
hands and said, "uncross your hands and bring them up to 'my tits', slave.  I
want to watch you play with them for me." 

Kara looked back completely mortified.  With quivering lips she slowly said,
"Miss Ronda, please ... don't make me ... "

Ronda brought the stick down sharply against the top of the left globe and
raised her voice!  "You're going to play with 'my tits' for me, slave, for all
of us.  So, put on a real show, bitch.  Work yourself into a frenzy and make
yourself hot!  I'll give you ten minutes.  If I don't think you're doing it hard
enough or if I don't think you're sincere or passionate enough, I'll swat 'my
tits' with this stick again.  Then I'll make you beg out loud for the privilege
of playing with them.  Also, spread your knees wider so we can see your pussy at
the same time.  Got me, stupid?"

Kara looked at the red mark forming on the left tit and nodded slowly.  She
spread her knees wider in the dirt, then brought her hands up and cupped the
familiar form of her tits.  She forced her hands to roam over each one and began
what she had done so many times in private but never before another person, let
alone one so youthful, so demanding and suddenly so demonic.  She tilted her
head forward as if her eyes needed to coax her hands into action.  Then her eyes
closed and her hands fondled, squeezed, pulled.  She felt the heat of
embarrassment flush over her face but she couldn't control the perverse passion
that began to form inside her.

"More, slut!"  Ronda yelled.  "Hold 'em up close to your face, spit on 'em, and
keep going!"

Kara opened her eyes and aimed her mouth at each swelling globe and spit.  She
felt like a complete robot responding to the demands of this demonic child. 
Yet, heat began to rise within her.  Laughter and taunts flooded her ears almost
as if they were spurring the desires.  She kept on.  She closed her mind to what
she was doing and just listened to the words from Ronda.  The commands became
more perverse and probed deeper into her psyche ... lean forward ... milk them
... pretend you're a cow ... moo for us ... one after the other they kept
coming, wickedly driving her deeper into frenzy. 

Ronda slipped her right moccasin off her foot and pressed her bare toes into
Kara's oozing slit.  She saw the rush of passion in the slaves face.

Kara felt the big toe roam through her sex and settle on her clitoris and
massage.  She kept going, faster, deeper, eyes closed again, the toe wiggling,
massaging.  The surge of emotion rolled through her like a tidal wave.  Her hips
worked against the toe and her lips opened with a moan that built into a
crescendo of crazed lust.  Her body tensed and then succumbed to the inevitable. 
The intensity left her in shambles.

Ronda's foot pushed Kara into the dirt sprawling her on her back, her legs still
shaking, her spasms ebbing, her nipples pointing toward the clouds dotting the
sky above.  The pixie ran her toe through the flooded sex again and then pushed
her toes against Kara's mouth.  Kara licked and then lay gasping in the dirt,
slowly regaining her breath.  Before she fully recovered, Ronda squatted over
the slave, let her weight settle down firmly over Kara's face, and used it for
her own sexual gratification.  After achieving her release, she rolled the
exhausted slave over on her tummy, tied her wrists together behind her, and left
her. 

The group watched Kara's passion subside as she lay face down in the dirt. 
After a brief interlude, they pulled her up, hooked a leash to her collar and
began walking back into the trees.  Ronda pulled Kara by the leash, her hands
still tied behind her back. 

Chuck stared frequently at the slave as they walked.  Unknown to Kara, stare was
all he could do.  Sophia had ensured his subservience with a male chastity
device that kept his throbbing manhood locked in a mesh cage hidden beneath his
waistcloth.  For him to gain release Sophia would rely on Jessica's statement
that the male had kept his hands off the slave the entire afternoon.  Chuck knew
that Sophia had the only key.

He led the party and examined the myriad of trees until he found one with a
thick branch extending out about seven feet up from the trunk of the tree.  From
the saddlebags slung over his shoulder, he took two pulleys and a pair of
suspension cuffs.  He threaded the pulleys with rope and hoisted Ronda up on his
shoulders and she tied each pulley to the branch about two feet apart.  She
tossed one end to Rikki and one end was tied through the rings on the suspension
cuffs.  Kara was pushed down on her back and the cuffs were strapped around each
ankle.  With Chuck on one rope and Annie and Rikki on the other, they pulled
until Kara was hoisted by her ankles until her legs were straight up, her hips
hovering inches above the dirt and dried leaves beneath the tree.  Kara flailed
her body desperately.  She heard the camera click again and again.  Her
struggles were futile, as she knew they would be.

The group stood away and watched and waited.  For Kara the situation was
becoming more desperate.  Mentally she was completely exhausted and again she
fought back the frustration.  Screaming had become useless.  She suddenly hung
by an emotional thread and knew she was again close to breaking point. 
Everything that had happened today, the rug, the ride in the back of the truck,
the proclamation by Sophia, the processional out of the house, the humiliation
at the hands of Ronda and now this, had caught her completely off guard and
reached into mental recesses of her psyche that she no longer could fathom.  Her
struggles did nothing except to tire her and her upper body finally fell
exhausted against the floor of the grove.  She looked up to see Jessica
approaching and squatting down beside her.

Jessica said, "One hour to go, slave, before we head back to the ranch and
Mistress Sophia.  Think you honestly can last that long?"

Kara shuddered and replied, "I don't know..."

"Oh you will and I'll tell you why ... it'll get much worse for you if you
don't."  She nodded to Chuck and Annie, the ropes were pulled again, and her
hips raised another few inches away from the earth and higher in the air.

Kara gasped, weakly shook her head back and forth and moaned, "No...please!"

The ropes were hoisted again and her hips raised another few inches leaving only
her shoulders and head on the ground.  She felt a crop contact her left buttock
and another slap against her right ass cheek.  She looked up and saw Rikki, crop
in hand carefully aiming at the inviting target her inner thighs and buttocks
provided.

Jessica leaned down and said, "These are little love taps compared to what we
could do, slave.  They'll keep up for a few minutes.  When they stop you'll pee
again, just as you are, or we'll flail the daylights out of you!"

Kara broke into tears again protested, "but if I do, I'll pee all over
myself..."

"That's the general idea, slave girl.  It happened to me awhile back.  I don't
think you're any better than I."

The swats against her defenseless buttocks and thighs continued.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forty-Four Hours, Part 5

Two time zones to the East of the drama that continued on the ridge, late
afternoon sunlight filtered through the oaks and bathed the outdoor cafe in
swatches of sunlight as Maya and Deborah sipped coffee.  Maya had slumped down
in her chair and propped her booted feet up on the low white rail that separated
the tables from the passerby's on the sidewalk.  She glanced up at the pristine
blue sky and exhaled another puff of her Marlboro into the air. 

"How do you think she's doing?" quizzed Deborah?

"I don't know, you've known her longer, so how do you think she's doing?"

"But I don't know Sophia..."

"I do.  She'll work the daylights out of her, which is why I urged her to go
there."  She sipped again and took another drag off the cigarette.  "Kara has to
understand something she hasn't realized.  Being a slave to another person isn't
about bondage, or even being forced under physical duress.  It's mental.  In
your mind, you have to know what's expected of you.  You have to be ready to
comply, in essence to serve."  She exhaled again sending wisps smoke skyward. 
"For far too long, Kara hasn't understood this.  She didn't understand that when
she flew out, but I'll bet my last cigarette she'd know that when she returns
Sunday night.  That is, if she returns Sunday night."

"If she returns?  I don't understand", Deborah asked with puzzled looks.

"Sophia doesn't put up with any crap.  If she thinks Kara hasn't learned, then
she might keep her there until she does.  It's not past her.  "


Chuck led the procession down the slope.  Ronda led Kara by the leash attached
to her collar; for the descent, she was not blindfolded and the bindings were
removed from her hands.  Jessica followed, observing every move of the slave. 
The party fell into a looser formation when they reached level ground and
plodded through the dust within a half-mile of the ranch.

Kara's eyes took in the scene she had not been able to observe earlier when she
was blindfolded.  She began to feel weaker as they came in sight of the ranch,
the barn and a few outbuildings.  Trepidation grew as the buildings came closer. 
The afternoon had been traumatic.  She reflected on every scenario that for
nearly 24 hours she had encountered.  Each had intensified its effect on her. 
Now she looked back on the previous evening in the hotel as she knelt on the
carpet waiting for Mistress.  At that time, it had seemed so humiliating; now,
by comparison, it was remembered as merely child's play.  Every hour that had
passed since, each change of venue had challenged her psyche deeper until she
wasn't sure who she really was at this moment. 

Physically she wasn't much better.  Her wrists and ankles bore telltale rope
marks from the hours on the bluff; her nipples and breasts ached with every step
and bore faint reminders of the squeezing and constant attention.  Her buttocks
and thighs simply hurt from multiple slapping with the crop and the diabolical
paddle. 

 Her appearance was ghastly.  Her hair was matted with debris and dirt and hung
disheveled around her face.  Her face bore dried residue and scent of Ronda's
exuberant orgasms.  The remnants of her own orgasm faintly and embarrassingly
matted against her inner thighs.  Also, she simply reeked from her own
perspiration and her own urine, which she finally succumbed to peeing on herself
to avoid being hung upside down.  Anyone who saw her get off the plane last
night would surely not recognize her now by any stretch of the imagination.  Her
body appeared to belong more to the earth than to herself.

Upon reaching the ranch, Annie and Jessica prodded her towards a large barn.  At
the wide doors, the threesome paused and Kara drank ravenously from a bucket of
water pumped from the depths of the earth far beneath the prairie.  She was
guided past three stalls occupied by creatures that snorted and pawed at their
straw covered floor.  They, Kara noted were far better cared for than her.  Upon
reaching a vacant stall, Annie attached the leash to a ring in the stall. 

Kara sank against a thin straw filled cover.  She was left that way alone,
dirty, sore and afraid.  Sleep consumed her fatigued body.  Images raced through
a realm that hovered between consciousness and sleep.  A door was opened, she
went through the door, and then turned to leave, only to find the door locked. 
She struggled with the door, yelled, called out to anyone to open the door. 
Then the floor began to morph into something that resembled melted butter and
she was sinking, desperately clawing at the door, her lower extremities
dissolving into the butter. 

Kara awakened from the dream and gasped for breath, her body heaving and bathed
in perspiration.  She opened her eyes and realized once again where she was and
that day had faded into twilight.  She had no idea how long she slept nor why
she had dreamed what she did.  Her nostrils inhaled the aroma of food and she
realized that she was ravenously hungry.  Footsteps approached through the barn
and she tensed and sat up, her back pressed against the wall of the stall. 

Sophia entered the opening to the stall and peered down at her.  She had changed
into a short black leather mini and vest under which she wore a white blouse. 
Her riding boots had been supplanted by a pair of black form fitting heeled
boots that extended smoothly up nearly to her knees.  She was resplendent and
formed the perfect dichotomy to the totally disheveled slave at her feet.  The
fingers of her right hand delicately held her glass of white wine. 

"Well, slave, you absolutely reek! 

Kara nodded and said in a low voice, "yes Mistress."  Her eyes fell to floor to
hide the tears that welled within her.  

"They have some dust on them; clean them with your tongue.  I shouldn't have to
tell you everything!"

Kara knelt forward, groveled at Sophia's boots, and used her tongue to lick the
dust off.

Sophia stood quietly, sipped her wine and watched as a smile of satisfaction
slowly swept over her lips and cheeks.  "Stand up and turn around.  I want to
have a look at you."

Kara stood to the extent her leash would permit and turned slowly, feeling
Sophia's gaze.

"Nice!  They didn't mark you too badly except for a couple of deep welts on your
ass.  And these?  Who gave you these?" as her fingers traced the marks around
each globe. 

Kara hung her face slightly and said, "Miss Ronda did, Mistress."

Sophia raised the glass to her lips and sipped then spoke, "I'm sure I'll hear
all about it from Ronda.  She's an impetuous little darling and one of my better
finds and will make an excellent domme' someday with proper training which, of
course, I will provide.  Right now though, she can get a bit carried away.  If
you were here with me fulltime, I'd probably give you to her more frequently.  I
thought you might find her particularly humiliating.  She is only 19; did you
know? 

"No Mistress, I did not."

"Do you wish to tell me how it feels for someone your age to be provided as an
object for someone half your age?  Some have deep fantasies about such a scene,
others find it terribly degrading.  Of course, I can always rely on the pictures
Jessica took, but I'd like to hear your thoughts." 

Kara responded that she had been completely humiliated.  Yet, she wanted to say
more, to almost confess how she had been at a breaking point twice during the
afternoon.  Even now, she wasn't sure she could continue.

"Well, Slut, all this is a prelude to the evening.  In fact it will provide a
good beginning to what I have in store for you tonight."

The shudder that went through Kara's body was visible to Sophia and she
continued, "Here's the menu for tonight ... in short, I'm hosting a public
exhibit, but not quite the kind I host at the museum.  Namely ... the exhibit
tonight is ... you!" 

Kara's breathing stopped momentarily, her mind froze, not wanting to comprehend
what Sophia was saying.  Quivering consumed her and she turned her face up at
Sophia as if her own ears were betraying what they just heard.

"Oh yes, slave!  You are going to be exhibited all right ... I always find it
amusing to take what people do in private and bring those things out into the
open a little.  I tend to think of it as a character building experience and one
that tests the resolve of submission.  First, you're going to be given a bath
and cleaned up from this pigsty condition you're in right now.  That always
seems to be amusing." Sophia let her words trail off into silence then
continued, "after that you're going to be exhibited in public and humiliated
some more ... and if you are good and please me, I'll allow you an orgasm, in
front of my friends, of course. 

The words tore through Kara like pages being ripped from a book.  Her lower lip
and chin began their uncontrollable quivering.

Sophia continued, "I've invited some of my friends most of whom are in the
scene.  A select few, though, are not and they've paid me handsomely to watch
you.  Now, if you please me, you might make your plane tomorrow.  If you don't
please me ... then, well, slave,' she paused, "...  I don't when you'll go
home."

The shudder that slashed through her body only brought Sophia's face closer. 
Words of pleading formed in her mouth though none were able to escape her
trembling lips.

"And just so you know, I've exchanged emails with Maya and sent her a few of the
pictures Jessica took up on the ridge this afternoon.  She's in full agreement
with me.  She doesn't want you back if you can't be trained to perform."

Kara's gasped, her face turned ashen and her she fought to control the
quivering, "But I'm expected back ... my husband ... "

"Fuck him!  He's your problem, not mine!  Annie and Rikki will be here in a
moment to begin your preparation.  I suggest you don't give them any trouble. 
I'll be in the audience watching."  She turned her back to Kara and stepped to
the entryway to the stall, then stopped and turned back.  "Oh, and one more
thing, everything we do to you tonight will be documented with a digital camera
and a video.  If you behave, I'll mail them all to Maya and that'll be the end
of it.  If you don't, they'll make dynamite web fodder for anybody with a credit
card and an interest.  Got me, stinkpot?"

With that she walked away and left Kara in tears.

Annie and Rikki found a sobbing form huddled in the corner of the stall.  Kara
looked up, surprised to see both of them attired in bikinis.  She tried to mould
her body deeper into the corner of the stall as she saw the wrist manacles Rikki
held in her right hand.  Annie reached down and turned Kara's face toward her.
She spoke softly "listen to me, slave, you need to get it together.  What you're
going to experience tonight is unavoidable; it's already been planned.  If you
go out there crying, it'll be a mark against you.  You've endured it this far
..." She pulled the slave up to her feet and Rikki quickly brought Kara's arms
to the front of her body and placed the manacles over each of the slaves wrists
snapping them in place rendering her hands cuffed in front of her body.  Then
Annie untied the leash from its hook and drug the woman to her feet.  The duo
led the whimpering, stumbling slave out of the barn and into the night air in
the direction of a platform about 100 feet away, positioned between the barn and
the main house.

Kara gasped as she saw the platform, roughly ten feet by ten feet, bathed by the
light of four spotlights.  To her right and in front of the platform a group of
people sat in folding chairs, eating, drinking and laughing among themselves. 
Then the crowd caught sight of the threesome approaching and cheered.  Kara
tugged back on the leash and stumbled, falling in the dirt.  Catcalls rang out
as she was scooped up by Annie and placed back on her feet again and pushed
forward.  Kara intuitively drew her wrists together to cover her sex and let her
upper arms shield her breasts in a desperate effort to cover herself.  Rikki and
Annie laughed at the feeble attempt and tugged her forward.  Kara tried
desperately to retreat but she was no match for the force that Rikki and Annie
exerted as she was pulled closer to the crowd and the platform.  The slave tried
not to look but her eyes couldn't help but focus on the gathering of about 30
people, nor could her distraught eyes' miss the statuesque Sophia standing
behind the seated crowd.  Beside her, Chuck stood with the camera aimed at the
slave recording her actions.  She struggled against the prodding's of Annie and
Rikki but was pulled slowly and unrelentingly up three steps into the
illuminated area of the platform. 

The lights glared through the night and completely flooded the platform.  At the
back of the platform stood a single post slightly higher than her 5' 7" height. 
Ronda waited beside the post, hose in hand.  Beside the post were a bucket, two
sponges and a small stool.  And then the full impact of Sophia's words hit her
like small cannons aimed at what dignity she had remaining ... public bathing. 
She screamed!

Annie pushed Kara's back against the post, mounted the stool, and attempted to
hook the short chain between her wrist manacles to a hook embedded at the top of
the post.  Kara struggled trying to avoid the inevitable.  Her struggles
delighted the audience and jeers and taunts flooded her ears.  Rikki stepped
into help and the two wrestled briefly with Kara finally hooking her wrists over
the hook, leaving her elbows now even with her eyes.  Kara turned frantically
toward the post in a futile struggle to free herself but she couldn't reach the
hook.  Her tugging and struggle brought more jeers and hooting from the crowd. 
Rikki spun Kara back toward the crowd and Ronda opened the nozzle full force
catching the shrieking slave in her stomach.  Diabolically, Ronda then aimed the
spray at Kara's sensitive breasts and sex for a few moments as if they were
little targets, then the spray moved over her body.  Kara tried to turn away
again but the short chain didn't permit enough length to go more than a foot or
two in any direction.  Annie and Rikki picked up the sponges dipped them into
the bucket of soap and began to lather her hair, face, and torso then probing
between her legs, down her legs and to her feet. 

Most of the crowd had gotten out of their chairs and moved closer for a better
view, surrounding the stage on three sides.  Kara had no place to hide, no
refuge from the spray or the laughter.

A man standing next to the platform captured the action, the flash from his
camera firing as he squeezed off several shots.  Startled, Kara turned toward
the flash and saw a large denim clad man grabbed the camera, smashed it beneath
his booted feet and crudely ushered the overzealous watcher out. 

By now Annie was working the suds into the slave's sex, turned her, parted her
cheeks and soaped her anal crevice.  Kara now resembled one giant glob of suds,
which hid her tears; the laughter and whistling from the crowd muffled her
protestations.  Ronda aimed the nozzle again and began spraying working the
stream across her hair and face, and then rinsing down her body to her feet. 
When Kara was rinsed, Annie turned Kara toward the crowd, and kicked her feet
apart and ordered her to hold still and remain spread.   

Kara's mind reeled, unbelieving how diabolically orchestrated things were
happening as shaving foam was applied to her sex and the crowed roared approval. 
Annie picked up the razor, and thought the shaving was more symbolic since Kara
had carefully taken care of that detail Friday morning before she left home, the
mental debasement was all the same to the slave. 

At that point, Ronda came forward with a towel and wiped the slaves body down,
then picked up a blow dryer and plugged it into an extension cord beside the
platform and began drying the slave's hair.  The crowd quieted momentarily;
however, laughter erupted again when Annie picked up the make up bag and began
applying a generous coating of blusher, eyeliner and lipstick. 

Rikki mounted the small stool, took the key from a hook on the post, and freed
the freshly scrubbed slaves wrists fr4om the manacles.  She grabbed her elbows,
held her arms behind her back, and pushed the slave forward.  Annie picked up
the soaked leash and led her to the edge of the platform nearest the gathering. 

For a finale' Ronda came forward with the tube of lipstick and coated the
aureole surrounding Kara's nipples.  She then knelt and with the end of the
lipstick, scrawled the word "Sophia's Slave" above Kara's freshly shaved sex.  A
roar went up from the crowd again. 

From the edge of the crowd, and standing near the back, Jessica yelled," Her
hose!  Her heels!" and waved a small bag.  Annie jumped of the platform, ran to
Jessica, retrieved the bag, and returned to the platform.  She began working the
thigh high hose up each leg, smoothing them up toward the tops of her thighs. 
Kara gingerly wiggled her feet into the 3-inch open toed slings, which were
buckled around her ankles.

Sophia was definitely pleased.  She stood and quieted the crowd, which by now
was delirious with lust and laughter, and shouted, "My friends, gather up your
drinks, what food you want and move into the house.  In a few minutes you'll see
her next in the great room for her public display!"

The crowd moved in a haphazardly fashion toward the ranch house.  Annie held
Kara's leash and kept her at the edge of the platform in full view.  A few of
the guests detoured by the front of the platform to get what amounted to them as
a private view of the slave who had aroused certain lust in their alcohol fueled
groins.  Kara felt absolutely humiliated as one older man stopped in front of
her, his eyes even with her sex and commented that he'd pay good money just to
see that again.  He reached to stroke Kara's thigh but a towering denim clad
figure, the same one who had grabbed the camera, clasped his own hand around the
overzealous onlookers forearm.  "No one touches the mistress's property without
her permission."  He pointed in the direction of the ranch house. 

Kara heard the voice and froze.  It was the same one she'd heard back in the
hotel room before she was rolled in the rug.

Annie waited until no one else lingered then led Kara toward the front porch
where Sophia and Jessica waited.  Without being told, Kara knelt and kissed
mistress's boots.  The smile washed over Sophia's face.  "Well, slave, so far
you're right on track.  There are still a million ways for you to screw up.  Put
this on."

Jessica handed Kara the black cocktail dress she was instructed to bring. 
Almost astonished that she was allowed clothing, Kara spoke a brief thank you
and slipped it up her body and zippered the back.  She immediately noticed that
the dress had been altered. The hem that previously fell just above her knees
had now been shortened to her upper thighs allowing the tops of the thigh high
hose to be visible.  Nevertheless she was grateful for what she had.   Sophia
looked at the spaghetti strap; v-neckline garment and nodded approval then
snapped a new leash into the d-ring of her collar.  She led her prize toward the
house.

Forty-Four Hours, Part 6

Triumphantly, Sophia led Kara into the great room.  Amused eyes focused on the
collared toy dressed in the shortened black dress, and the visible thigh highs. 
Her heels clicked against the floor echoing behind the more solid clicking
sounds of Sophia's boots. Blusher and makeup hid the toys embarrassment, but
somehow she began to feel a sense of pride at finally being led by Sophia,
almost as if being at the end of her leash would somehow protect her from
further indignations.  Sophia climbed the two steps to her dais, turned to sit
in her chair and snapped her fingers at Kara who instinctively kneeled.  The
leash was wrapped around the arm of her chair.  She motioned with her gloved
hand for the party to continue and sat down. 

Kara looked out into the crowd.  She let her eyes roam over combination of
partnered couples; female dominates with their female slaves, domme' with male
slaves and even a couple of apparently gay men with their male slaves. 
Conspicuously absent, though, were males with female slaves.  In one corner she
noticed five men and two women sitting without slaves and she gathered they were
probably the ones whom Sophia had referred to as paying handsomely to attend the
gathering.  Kara saw the lustful looks and for a moment, dropped her gaze.

Her eyes also took measure of the great room as well.  She estimated it to be
perhaps 40 feet long and about half that distance in width.  Shallow alcoves
winged each side of the length and those were about eight to ten feet deep and
dotted with sofas, chairs and small tables where most of the guests claimed
their space.  The main part of the room was open to the ceiling and exposed
beams crisscrossed the space, meeting with three posts down each side that
framed the alcoves.  Hooks had been embedded at intervals into the beams and
chains of varying lengths dangled from the hooks.  The dais on which she and
Sophia sat was at the far end of the room; a bar tended by a leather-clad man
was at the opposite end adjacent to the main door that led out to the porch. 
Jessica stood statuesque behind Sophia. 

Annie, Rikki and Ronda, now stripped of their soaked bikinis and dressed in the
briefest of black maids aprons trimmed with white lace, served drinks and food,
tottering almost miraculously on red spiked heels.  Kara watched Annie, by far
the smoothest of the three, as she carried her tray, bowing before various
domme's to dispense what libations they had ordered.  Annie seemed almost
unaffected as one domme she was serving lifted her apron and stroked at her sex.

Her focus was interrupted as a woman and her male submissive approached Sophia. 
The male, perhaps 30 and well tanned bowed and kissed Sophia's boots while his
domme addressed Sophia.  The conversation was muted and Kara could not catch the
intention of the conversation.  At one point Sophia paused and looked at Kara,
"arch your back, stick out your tits, pull the dress up to your waist and spread
your knees wider.  She wants to see your sex."  They talked for 5 or 10 minutes
more while Kara remained displayed.  A strange uneasiness crept over her face.   
Finally Sophia sent the couple away and leaned down to Kara and whispered, "She
wanted me to lease you out to them, $10,000 for a months servitude, aren't you
pleased?"  It was a question she would have rather not answered but she meekly
spoke a simple 'yes Mistress' in response, trying to hide the humiliation that
swelled within her.  Did Sophia really have the wherewithal to sell her or could
such a thing actually happen?  She didn't want to find out!

Throughout the evening, Kara kept focusing on the partnered couples,
particularly the dommes' with their female submissive, and the way in which an
unspoken flow passed between some of them.  She watched one lesbian butch,
dressed in jeans and a white tee, a pack of Marlboro Lights tucked into the left
rear pocket of her jeans as she brought her partner to the center of the room. 
As the crescendo of Enigma erupted from the CD player she seductively danced
with her partner, stroking her buttocks rhythmically to the music until the two
were lost in a lustful embrace.  Kara focused on the partner, taller, long black
hair cascading down her shoulders, her slender body clad in black jeans, a tight
black long sleeved top that covered well formed breasts.  After a grinding
dance, the butch stripped the submissive of her clothes, again to the beat of
the music until the taller woman was unashamedly nude. 

Kara watched the submissive eyes, and marveled at their complete focus on her
dominant partner.  The butch pulled a set of handcuffs from her jeans pocket and
snapped them around her partner's wrists in front of her then raised them to one
of the chains that dangled from the exposed beams.  As the beat continued she
began arousing the taller woman with her hands, rubbing her from her thighs to
her neck until she pulled the black woven belt from the loops of her yeans and
began a passionate lashing of the fettered body, covering her back and shoulders
and buttocks in well timed strokes that brought moans of passion from her
partner.  The butch concluded with a long lingering kiss returned equally by the
chained woman.  Kara heard herself emit a small moan of lust as the butch
released her partner and led her back to the couch.  Somehow, she envied the
couple and her thoughts drifted to Maya.  Something began to creep into her
mind, something she had failed to see weeks ago. 

Sophia snapped her fingers at Kara and interrupted her contemplation.  "Walk to
the bar, slave girl, and get me a drink."  While she spoke she unsnapped the
leash from the collar. 

Kara carefully contemplated her actions.  She crawled around in front of Sophia
and dropped her face to Sophia s boots, kissed them and whispered, "Yes
Mistress."  She turned and stood and gathering up what pride she could, began
the short journey to the bar.  The revelry from the crowd quieted somewhat and
30 pairs of eyes watched the journey.   The leather-clad bartender had already
poured the glass of Sauvignon Blanc and nodded toward the glass. Kara picked it
up by the stem and turned back toward the dais.

"Slave!"  Sophia spoke, still seated on the dais. "Amuse me and my guests and
remove you dress!"  From 40-feet away her eyes looked straight in Kara's and she
didn't miss the quivering in the hand that sent little ripples through the
contents of the crystal goblet.

Kara felt the eyes.  She set the goblet back on the bar and said, "Yes
Mistress." 

From the dais Sophia spoke again, "Here is how I want it accomplished.  Turn and
face Luke, the bartender. I want to watch your fingers as they unzip the little
zipper in the back.  Step out of the dress and lay it across the bar. Now!" 
Silence permeated the room.

Kara knew she had only one course to pursue.  She turned towards Luke and stood
straight.  Her heart pounded and her hands quivered.  Though the crowd had seen
her naked on the platform there was something more humiliating about being
unfettered and taking her own clothing off simply by obeying spoken words of
another person.   Her right arm reached behind her back almost as if it had a
mind of its own and unzipped the dress, letting it fall at her feet.  She bent
at the knees exposing as little of her sex as possible, picked up the dress and
placed it across the bar in front of Luke.  Coolness of the night air surrounded
her and her nipples hardened as she watched his smile consume his weathered
face.  Her face reddened visibly even under the make up as his eyes quietly
savored her body.

She stood and waited for the next command, praying that it would come quickly.

But Sophia paused, allowing her next command linger, giving both her and the
crowd time to fully observe the woman's behavior and her body.  Seconds to Kara
passed again as minutes.  Then slowly the words rolled from Sophia's lips, "Now,
pick up the wine, turn and face me!"

Kara did.

"You may bring my wine, slave.  Hold the goblet arms length, at eye level; look
directly into the wine as if it were the most important thing you possessed. 
Proceed!"

Kara tightened the fluttering muscles in her stomach and thighs and raised the
goblet to eye level.  She extended the gift at arms length and took the first
step. Slowly she walked, realizing with each step the symbolism. She was
offering more than wine, she was almost offering herself.  Deep within her, she
felt a small sense of pride awaken.  Her nakedness was momentarily forgotten.

She approached the dais and knelt, never taking her eyes off the goblet.  She
bowed her head, extended the goblet upward in her own symbolic gesture of
subservience and offered the wine to mistress.  Sophia smiled, took the wine and
kept her eyes on the kneeling woman.

"Crawl to the center of the room."   

Kara looked puzzled.

An expression of dominance crossed Sophia's face, one that Kara had never seen. 
"What you just brought me is mine.  Now I wish to share it with my friends so
they may also be pleased with what I have.  Go!"

Kara pondered the words carefully; each one adding meaning to what Sophia was
asking her to do.  She pivoted on her hands and knees and began a slow crawl. 
Her hair hung around her face, her breasts swayed, she knew the picture she must
be presenting but nevertheless, she crawled until she arrived at what she
believed to be midway through the great room.

"Now, stand, face toward me and adjust your hose back up tightly on each leg."

She did so.

Sophia watched in silence for a moment and saw Kara's rapt attention.  Her
original plan was based on a presumption that the slave would not be quite as
compliant as she actually seemed to be at this point.  Briefly she considered
modifying her approach for the remainder of the evening but then she figured
what lay in store would be a true test of her servitude.  She spoke, "bend
forward at the waist until your face is inches away from the front of your knees
... wrap your arms behind the bend at the back of your knees ...  and interlace
your fingers."

Kara slowly bend forward realizing that her ass would be pointed straight at the
bar and the majority of the attendees.  She bend until she could feel her own
heated breath exhaling against the smoothness of her trembling knees, then she
extended her arms behind her knees and interlaced her fingers.   

Sophia rose from her chair and nodded to Jessica, then exited the room through
one of the doorways behind the dais.  Jessica followed her. 

Kara heard the clicking of her mistress's boots receding, a door closing and
then silence.  She had no idea what she was to do other than remain as she was. 
Murmurs and muted laughter slowly rose from the crowd and Kara felt as if a
thousand eyes were staring into her.  Her mind drew the parallel that she was no
more than an object on display at a gallery, no more than some unearthed
Egyptian vase on a pedestal in a museum.

From the door behind the dais, the familiar clicking of heeled boots echoed
quickly across the floor.  A hush fell over the gathering save for a comment
from an unknown source ... "now we're going to see something."

Sophia entered with Jessica following.  A wave of anticipation began to sweep
over the crowd and voices began to rise in approval.  The crowd murmured
approval at a Sophia they could see but one that was hidden to Kara in her
crouched over position.  Sophia had changed into tight leather pants that hugged
every curve of her hips and legs.  An equally tight fitting leather sheath top
that laced up the front of her body had replaced the blouse and vest.  The
calf-high boots had been replaced by ankle length boots and their menacing click
of the heels echoed toward the slave.  From a belt around Sophia's waist hung a
riding crop and in her right hand held a black handled flogger.  Jessica carried
a small bag.

Both women approached the hunched over slave who still was unable to witness the
change in Sophia's mood or her attire. Jessica came forward with the bag and
opened the drawstring.  With a fire in her eyes and determination in her
motions, Sophia withdrew a pair of red kid leather mitts.  She took Kara's left
hand and pulled it out and slipped a mitt over an astonished Kara's left hand
and buckled the inch-wide buckle tightly around her wrist.  Kara glanced at the
mitt noticing instantly her fingers were now rendered useless.  She saw the
single ring sewn into the end of the mitt.  Unhesitatingly and in a no nonsense
mood, Sophia quickly encased Kara's right hand in the other mitt then ordered
her to put her encased hands behind her knees again.  Her trembling was clearly
visible as Sophia pulled Kara's encased hands tighter behind her knees until
Kara's face was a scant few inches from the front of her quivering knees.  She
looped a carabineer through the two rings at the end of each glove imprisoning
Kara's hands securely behind her knees.  Mistress's movements were skilled,
fluid and passionate as she unbuckled Kara's black heels and slipped them off. 
She reached into the bag and withdrew red patent leather pumps, with an ungainly
higher heel and ankle straps.  A small metal ring was embedded at the back of
each shoe.  Kara felt her legs tilt awkwardly as her feet were fitted into the
shoes.  Her exposed sex and buttocks became all the more prominently displayed
as she tottered briefly getting her balance.  Sophia kicked at the tottering
right foot and pushed it out until Kara had to shift her balance.  Her feet were
now about 18 inches apart.  Sophia removed a short spreader bar from the bag,
extended it to fill the distance between the slave's ankles and clipped quick
release clamps between the ends of the bar and the rings in the back of the
heels.  Kara was uncompromisingly trapped in this position. 

Laughter permeated the gathering but the determined mistress had one more item
she required.  Her hands fondled Kara's hanging breasts and her fingers found
aroused nipples.  She rolled the left one and attached a clover clamp at the
base of thick bud causing a brief but definitive shriek from the slave's lips. 
The short chain that connected that clamp was drawn through the carabineer
behind her knees and then brought back to her right nipple and that clover clamp
quickly pinched around the nipple behind the bud.  Another groan emitted from
the lips of the slave, now completely locked in abject humility.  She quickly
recalled Sophia's words hours before as she stood over her in the stall ...
public bathing ... public humiliation ...

Sophia stood and examined her handiwork to the approval of an awakened crowd. 
Sophia well understood the awkwardness and humiliation her subject was
experiencing.  In essence, she was bent over lewdly displaying herself.  She had
no way to cover herself without enduring the pain of pulling the clamps off her
nipples and substantially altering her position by sliding her hands up her
legs.  Her ass protruded which would work well to Sophia's advantage.  Her
calves strained and quivered. Her breath came in little clipped segments.  Her
nipples throbbed.  She stood unsteadily on the platform heels.

Sophia walked around the slave a few times and stopped behind her.  Kara's heart
pounded as she sensed the presence.  She did not see Sophia's motions, simply
that she heard the swoosh of the flogger a split second before it impacted
against her fully exposed buttocks.  The unexpected impact caused her to jerk
and the clamps tugged deeper into her nipples.  Five additional strokes followed
in fluid succession creating agony against her buttocks and exposed sex.  With
the grace of a lioness, Sophia circled her bewildered prey.  The flogger fell
six more times in fluid motion and slave cried out.  Sophia cut a devilish smirk
at her prey and circled.  When she came behind her target again, it was the crop
in rapid succession that struck her inner thighs nearly causing her to tumble.
Kara fought every stroke until she realized her wiggling was only increasing the
pressure on her nipples and delighting her tormentor that much more.  Her sobs
were lost under her hair now hanging in disarray around her face.

Sophia circled and circled again.  This time the flogger found the exposed upper
back for another series of strokes.  Kara groaned loudly.  Sophia was in her
glory.  She stopped directly behind the slave's buttocks and took aim with six
well-placed strokes leaving welts from the crop spaced over each buttock.

Sophia looked at Jessica and uttered one word, "Hands!"  She continued to circle
back to the front slowly as Jessica bend and released the carabineer holding
slaves wrists.  Sophia reached under the quivering form and released the clover
clamps in rapid order. A pained scream rolled through the room as the blood
rushed back into the tortured buds.

"Stand, slave!" Sophia spoke.

Kara raised her stiff body and as she did so Jessica brought her mitten hands
together behind her back and connected them again with the carabineer.  A quick
release clamp was attached to the carabineer and connected to one of the hanging
chains from the exposed beams.  Kara felt her arms drawn up behind her tilting
her upper body forward at a 45-degree angle.  For the first time since Sophia
reentered the room, Kara looked in awe at the transformation of her mistress.

Sophia noted the tear-streaked cheeks and streaked make up  ... she looked into
the disbelieving dazed blue eyes that stared in fear at her. 

"Do you fear me now slave?"

Sobbing, she replied, "yes, Mistress"

For Kara the world beyond Sophia was suddenly unimportant.  Her entire sphere of
existence resided with the circle Sophia had claimed to mete out her punishment. 
She knew other people were watching, enjoying, chanting but in some strange way
it made little difference.  Her focus was on Sophia.  Her body heaved with each
breath; her eyes never left the dominance that seemed to bore holes into her
soul.  Kara knew that the whole weekend had come down to this moment.

"I'm not finished!"  Sophia spoke as she gazed at the pendulant breasts.  She
reached forward and cupped them released each one watching the intensity build
in the slaves eyes.  With the tips of the flogger she began working, building
Kara with each stroke.  Kara bit her lip as she felt it brush against her
tormented nipples and ample swaying breasts.  The strokes increased then paused,
then striking harder with each series. Kara moaned, then shrieked!  The crowd
was strangely silent as if each attendee was collectively holding their breath.

As the slave caught her breath, Sophia aimed at the words scrawled in lipstick
on the slave's mound ... She swung the flogger slowly causing Kara to forget
about her swollen breasts.  After ten well timed strokes that covered her from
the scrawl of the lipstick on her mound to her tingling sex, she tossed the
flogger to the floor and walked to the bar, leaving Kara in shambles.  Luke
poured another Sauvignon Blanc. Sophia leaned against the bar, sipped her wine
and cast a steady gaze at the slave.   A strange admiration tingled inside of
the lioness.  In a way she was almost peeved at herself for harboring the
thought; there were many she had whipped harder but few with such passion.

In the center of the room Kara tried to regain her breath.  Her body was bathed
in perspiration and the glowing warmth of a well-delivered whipping.  Within a
span of 20-minutes she had endured what she would never have dreamed.  Her body
ached and she felt like she was coming down off an endorphin high.  Sophia had
worked her far beyond what she had ever experienced.

From the bar Sophia continued to gaze at Kara.  To her, the whipping was a thing
of absolute beauty and the slave's body simply resonated that beauty.  She
stared for another minute and then called out to Jessica, "Release her!
Everything off her!  Put her on the floor."

Within the span of a minute Kara was unfettered and stripped naked of everything
including the thigh highs.  She lay naked on her back in the center of the room
with Jessica standing over her.  Sophia surveyed the crowd, called four women by
name, and asked them to join her in the center of the room.  Then she called
Ronda.  In no uncertain tones, she told the rest of the crowd to leave the room. 
Having just seen the heated lioness in action, no one dared protest.

The four women, all domme friends of Sophia, joined her and Jessica in the
center of the room.  Ronda also stood among the small gathering.  Sophia picked
up the flogger and the group formed a circle around the slave.  Kara eye the
flogger and gasped. 

"No, slave," Sophia smiled as she turned the flogger around showing the slave
the six-inch black hard rubber handle shaped like a penis.  "You're going to use
this.  I'm mitigating part of your evening.  You're going to work this into your
overheated sex before you lose the glow of the whippings, while your body is
still craving something, or before I decide I want to give you more.  The rest
of us are going to watch you.  And you're going to do it until we tell you to
stop..."

She tossed the flogger on the Kara's stomach.

Kara needed no further explanation.

Forty-Four Hours, Chapter 7


When the festivities in the great room concluded that evening among Sophia's
select group, Jessica slipped the chain through Kara's collar and motioned for
her to assume a position on her hands and knees.  The slave waited while Sophia
hugged each of her friends warmly and with a smile, indicated Jessica to bring
the slave.  The trio reached the haven, Sophia's bedroom, heretofore unseen by
Kara.  The room itself was immense with polished wooden floors that reflected
the labors of constant care by various male slaves.  Bright oriental rugs
adorned the polished wood on both sides of the bed and one at the foot where a
small reading area consisted of a chaise lounge and a chair and end table with a
small lamp.  Bookcases along that wall held row after row of books, mementos,
and sculpture.  To the left of the reading area was a door leading to a bath and
on the opposite side of the room French doors lead to Sophia's private patio. 
In the far corner of the room was an object that made Kara silently gasp, a
large dog cage. 

Her trepidation was not lost on Jessica and Sophia.  Jessica spoke in soft tones
at Kara, "Only the most prized of mistresses pets are permitted in this room. 
You're allowed five minutes in the bathroom and then you'll return for
instruction."

Kara nodded her thanks and crawled into the bathroom, the chain from her collar
dragging across the wood of the bedroom and then against the tile of the
bathroom.  When she returned she found Jessica already nude and undressing
Sophia.  Unsure of what to do, she stopped a few feet inside the room and
remained on her hands and knees.  She silently watched as Jessica disrobed her
mistress and carefully removed the garments to the closet and returned.

Sophia looked at Kara and then at Jessica, " I think she'll need something
special to keep her emotions in check tonight since we still have the morning to
contend with before she departs.  Too much sex can dull the senses as we all
know."

Jessica nodded and told Kara to stand, legs apart at shoulder width and hands
behind her head.  Kara did so and remained standing as Jessica went to the
closet again, this time returning with a small velvet bag from which she
withdrew a leather and metallic  harness.  Kara emitted an audible gasp and
stared in disbelief at the device.  Though she had never seen one she knew
instantly its' purpose would be to deny any contact with her sex.  She tried to
control the quivering in her thighs as it was buckled around her waist and a
thin stainless steel covering positioned over her sex.  The delicate chain from
the end of the covering was pulled back between her buttocks and locked to the
rear of the waist belt.  Kara felt the cool metal against her sex and moaned,
her sex now unreachable and completely unavailable, locked away from all
contact.  It felt strangely sensuous.  For a moment, she wanted to rub her hands
against the covering that would ensure her chastity until it was removed. 

"Have you ever worn one before, slave?"  Sophia inquired as she looked into
Kara's astonished eyes. 

"No Mistress, I've never."

Motioning to the cage, she asked, "and that, have you ever been inside one?"

Kara shook her head and replied, "No, Mistress."

Sophia snapped her fingers and pointed to the floor.  "Back on your hands and
knees, slave, and crawl inside.  If I remember, it's about 48" long by 30" wide
and 30" high.  I think you'll find it better than some in which I've imprisoned
people."

Kara fell again to her hands and knees and stared at the door of the cage some
eight feet away.  A slap against her buttocks from Jessica sent her crawling to
the doorway of the small enclosure and another slap drove her inside.  Once she
was inside Jessica snapped the lock over the entry door and returned to her
Mistress.  She turned out the lights in the room.  In the privacy and darkness
of that haven, Jessica willingly used every resource of her body to bring
mistress her pleasure. 

Kara tried to stretch out as best she could and then abandoning the effort,
snuggled into the blanket on the floor of the cage.  In the darkness, she heard
the moans from Sophia.  She tried to find her own sex but knew it was useless
and her exhausted body fell into a deep slumber. 

Upon awakening, she sensed the absence of Sophia and Jessica and laid there in
silence.  A feeling of panic swept over her until Jessica had entered the room
wearing a yellow robe.  Behind her, a naked male slave carried a tray with a
carafe of coffee and two flowered mugs.  He knelt while Jessica unlocked the
tiny door to the cage.  Kara crawled out and stretched.  She exchanged glances
with the male and immediately noticed the cock cage restraining his manhood.

"Hopefully, you slept well, slave.  I'll unlock the flap of your enclosure,
allow you to visit the bathroom.  You will not shower nor arrange your hair. 
You may clean your face, your sex and brush your teeth with the toothbrush in
the case on the vanity.  Then you'll have 10 minutes of free speak with me
before your day begins, do you understand?"

She replied, "Yes Ms Jessica, thank you," then at Jessica's command, she stood
while the flap between her legs was unlocked and headed to the bathroom.  Under
the glow of the lights surrounding the vanity mirror, Kara looked for the first
time at her body.  A sharp scream pierced the silence of the bathroom as she
stared at her image in the mirror.  Her skin was marked from the ropes and the
multiple whippings leaving no doubt to anyone what she had endured thus far. 
Shaking, she flicked off the lights as if it would erase the evidence of her
weekend.  Upon entering the room again, she noticed the male slave on his knees,
his hands extended with a cup of coffee, which Kara gratefully accepted. 
Jessica again positioned the metal flap over Kara's sex, locked it again and
motioned her back to her knees. 

"You looked at your body, didn't you," said Jessica.

Kara nodded, "these will take days to heal."

"Yes, that was the intent, to give you a reminder of what transpired."

While Kara sipped, the coffee Jessica dismissed the male and spoke.  "It's now
nearly 10 o'clock.  Assuming you give us no trouble and accept what is in store
for you today, you will be driven to the airport leaving here precisely at 2:45. 
I believe your flight leaves at 4:49.  At the airport, someone will accompany
you inside; escort you to a restroom prior to your going to your concourse.  In
the restroom, they'll remove your chastity device.  We don't want any
unnecessary attention called to your condition or setting off any metal
detectors, now do we."  She smiled briefly and continued, "your collar alone
will set off the detector, but it's visible enough that a simple explanation to
the security guard that you are a slave and you don't have the key.  You're a
clever woman, I'm sure you'll handle it.  But things can change at any step of
the way, so I would advise you to be very compliant."

Kara's fingers went immediately to the collar and her face flushed.  Gad!  What! 
She'd never dreamed of this part.

"I will also say," Jessica continued, "that Mistress did receive an inquiry last
night about your availability.  Also, there is someone else who wants you, and
then again, Mistress herself may have additional plans for you.  Jessica paused
and looked at Kara before continuing, "I, myself, used to live in Chicago.  I
met Mistress at a business function while I was on a temporary assignment here. 
I joined her here for a weekend, and a few weeks later, well, she sent for me is
a nice way of saying it."

Kara stared in shock at Jessica.  "You mean ... you came here freely or she
kidnapped you.  I don't understand."

"You don't need to understand.  But know this, in several major cities, there're
small groups known as 'The Coterie'.  Its' members are women like Mistress and
their interests are such as you've seen this weekend.  But I've said enough, I
suppose.  Finish your coffee.  Free speak is over.  Hand me the chain attached
to your collar." 

Kara set down her cup on the end table still in disbelief at what she'd heard. 
Jessica could see the troubled expression on her face.  She handed Jessica the
chain.  Jessica led her across the room and out into the hallway, then through
the house to the porch.  She chained her collar to one of the posts by the front
steps and ordered her to hands and knees.  Then she disappeared back into the
house. 

Nude, except for the chastity device, Kara waited and felt the warmth of the day
began to form tiny beads of perspiration on her body.  Her mind still tried to
make some sense out of what Jessica had mentioned.  The front door opened but
this time it was the pixyish Rhonda with a length of chain and locks in one hand
and a bowl of oatmeal in the other, which she set on the wooden floor of the
porch.  Kneeling over the bowl like a housecat, Kara buried her face into the
food and quelled her ravenous hunger.  While she ate, Rhonda mocked her
incessantly.

Then it began again.  Rhonda kicked the empty bowl away.  Releasing the padlock
to the post, Rhonda shoved her foot against Kara knocking her to the rough
weathered floor.  She grabbed the dazed woman by the ankles, wound a short chain
around her left ankle and snapped the padlock through the links, then wound it
around her right ankle and secured it with another padlock giving Kara only a
few inches of movement between her ankles.  She tugged her back into the house,
leading her through the house on hands and knees and led her back into Sophia's
room and onto the private patio.  She gazed back on the womanly form noting the
features that comprised the crawling Kara.  Her eyes noted the long legs, toned,
shades of fading suntan, and the smooth skin.  Her eyes roamed up to her sex,
her flat tummy and small, but well rounded breasts.  Her gaze stopped at Kara's
face and she looked at the mixture of perspiration, anxiety and disheveled
blondish hair faintly streaked with strands of gray.

"Do you fear me, bitch?"

"Yes Ma'am, I do..."

A swift kick of her foot into the captive's stomach caught Kara completely off
guard and Rhonda watched as the older face contorted in agony, desperately
struggling to suck air back into her lungs.  "Ma'am, my ass!  I'm not your
Ma'am!  Can't you remember what I told you yesterday on the ridge?  You'll call
me Miss Rhonda!  Do you understand?  And while we're at this, never refer to
yourself again in the first person.  Always, always use 'this slut' until I
think of something more degrading!"

Kara struggled to get rational thoughts formed into words but finally managed to
mutter, "Yes, Miss Rhonda, this slut understands."

Rhonda went to the outdoor bar on the patio and mixed a Bloody Mary, then
settled in a reclining chair and sipped her drink.  Kara wasn't about to tell
the imp that she wasn't of legal drinking age.  Rhonda bent forward and stared
at the older woman and the device around her sex and the chain around her
ankles.  Using her feet she rolled the bitch on her back, placed her feet on the
soft warm body, and slid her feet back and forth from the slave's neck to her
thighs.  

"You don't know what I had to promise Mistress this morning to have you.  She
had other plans for you this morning, but I can be very persuasive when I have
to be.  The only thing I couldn't weasel out of her was the key to that damned
belt you're wearing.  If I had, I'd be flogging your worthless cunt 'til hell
won't have it.  But mark my words, slut, sooner or later, I'm going to own you. 
I don't care whom you think you belong to."

The pixyish Rhonda stood and moved a foot to Kara's stomach and slowly shifted
her weight until she was standing on the woman with both feet.  Then Rhonda, her
arms outstretched for balance, slowly walked over Kara all the while watching
the woman grimace with pain and disgrace.  Her feet moved across the flattened
breasts, then she moved the toes of each foot over a nipple and scrunched her
toes, trapping the protruding buds.  She used her toes like clamps and toyed and
pulled the nipples, then slid one foot forward to her neck, letting it rest
against her neck briefly then stepping that foot against the side of her face
and pressed down until Kara's groans became unfamiliar gasps for air.  She
stopped and walked back down the mature body ending up with one foot planted on
the woman's mound, her other one just above her breasts, and shifted her weight
back and forth slowly watching the measured spasms of pain emanate from Kara's
face.  She smiled inwardly as she realized she had just walked over her victim
from her face to her sex.  She returned to her chair.

Kara let her eyes roll half shut.  Her mind wavered between wishing it wasn't
happening and trying to deny the sudden feral urge it created in her psyche. 
She moaned.

"You like it don't you, kunt."  Kara moaned and nodded her head and felt more
humiliated simply because her Miss Rhonda sensed she did.

"Thank the feet of your Miss Rhonda, kunt, for what they just did to you."

Kara struggled from her prone position on her back and rolled over on her tummy. 
She slid her body across the patio to Rhonda's feet.  She lowered her head and
looked at the delicate toes, the high arch of the foot that moments before had
walked up and down her body.  She began passionately kissing and licking across
the soft toes and feet.  Her hands cupped each foot reverently and held the feet
warmly as she extended her tongue and licked the soft under soles, letting her
tongue lap as if she were kissing a wine-filled chalice.  Little triggers
exploded in her mind.  Never had she so desperately wanted to please as she did
now.  She nuzzled, licked and kissed as if her very existence depended on her
humility.  Her mind raced back to Jessica's words of complete compliance and the
bizarre group known as "The Coterie" and the hint that Jessica herself was
somehow lured, perhaps forced, into the situation with Sophia.  The perversity
of the thought scared her, yet excited her.

Rhonda relaxed in her chair and murmured between moistened lips, "my slave, and
my humble foot-worshipping servant.  Look at you, a 41-year-old woman, wearing
my chains, now a slave to my feet.  This is so natural for you, isn't it, kunt?"

Guttural moans and a nod of the head told Rhonda all she needed to know. 
Animalistic desires rolled through her own body and her hands toyed with her own
body.  Hands tugged frantically at hair and she pulled a transformed face into
her overheated sex forming a union of Rhonda and slave.  Mouth found sex and
Kara locked her lips and tongue in a sensuous series of kisses and movements of
her tongue as she felt Rhonda's soft feminine flesh pressing against her.  The
climax was swift, wanton and left Rhonda exhausted and Kara's face covered with
Rhonda's lust.

When Kara lifted her face from Rhonda see was surprised to see Sophia standing
at the doorway from the bedroom to the patio.  She paused momentarily; again
unsure of what to do, then intuitively bent her head until her face contacted
the flagstones of the patio.  She remained that way and sensed Mistress stepping
down from the doorway and onto the patio and settling herself into a cushioned
wicker chair with a rounded fan-shaped back and a crest woven into the wicker at
the top of the fan.

"So slave, you've again had the experience with Rhonda, I see.  She paid a huge
price for this interlude and one that I will extract from her in time.  Rhonda,
get the keys for her padlocks, bring them to me, get my whip, suspension cuffs
for her wrists, the camera and be quick about it."  Rhonda quickly slid from her
chair, kissed Mistress feet and crawled back into the bedroom. Sophia turned to
Kara "Slave, stand straight, spread your feet as wide as the chains permit, your
face toward me, your eyes looking into mine and hold your arms above your head. 
I want you on display until I tell you otherwise."

Kara did so immediately and leveled her gaze at Mistress.  What she saw was
regal, mistress in a crimson silk robe, her arms resting on the arms of the
wicker chair and wedge heeled slippers on her feet.  Uncounted moments passed,
her arms beginning to feel the tension of being straight above her head until
Rhonda crawled back with the items.  She deposited them at Mistress feet and
then crawled away again.

"Now listen to me closely, slave, and follow my directions precisely.  You will
come forward, pick up the suspension cuffs and offer them to me.  I'll wrap them
around each of your wrists.  Then I will attach a carabineer to each d-ring of
the cuffs.  Do it now."

Kara dropped her arms and immediately went to her hands and knees and crawled
forward.  She picked up the cuffs, bent her body forward and handed the cuffs to
Sophia.  Mistress remained silent as she attached them around the slave's wrists
and attached a carabineer to the d-ring of each cuff.

Sophia continued.  "Crawl over to the arbor behind you and drag the footstool
from the lounge chair over there.  You will mount the stool, which may be
difficult with your ankles chained about eight inches apart as they are, but you
will figure out a way to mount the stool and stand.  When you look up at the
beams that provide the top of the arbor, you'll see two thick u-shaped bolts
screwed into the beams.  The hooks are thick and well embedded into the wooden
beam.  You'll notice carabineer's I attached to your cuffs.  Place one over each
of the hooks.  Then you will bend your knees a sufficient amount to allow your
arms to straighten.  When you have done so, you will tell me that you are ready
for me.  Should you fail to carry out my instructions precisely, you will not
make it to the airport and remember, your transportation depends entirely on me. 
Do you understand?"

"Yes Mistress."

"Then begin."

Kara crawled to the arbor tucked away in a corner of the private patio and
pushed the stool over, tilted her head up to find the hooks and positioned the
stool directly under them.  Then she sat on the stool and brought her chained
ankles up onto the stool, positioned them firmly and using her hands for
support, stood slowly and reached up for the hooks.  Facing Sophia, she drew the
left wrist close to the hook and let the carabineer fall over the u-shaped hook
until it was secured.  The metallic sound of the carabineer settling over the
hook chilled her.  For a brief moment, she questioned her own sanity.  Gathering
her courage, she repeated the motion with her right wrist and slowly bent her
knees until her arms were straight above her head.  She looked straight at
mistress.  "Slut is ready, Mistress."

Mistress paused, then gracefully stood in front of the chair and walked over to
Kara.  "I'm going to kick the stool out from under your feet and you will hang
suspended by your wrists.  Lower your body and extend your arms from the hooks. 
It'll make the impact on your shoulders much less traumatic."

Kara looked straight into Sophia's eyes and nodded.  She bit her quivering lower
lip and positioned her body.  From the corner of her eyes she saw the quick
motion of Sophia's foot and felt herself suspended in space as the stool fell
away and clanked against the patio stones.  She dangled in midair her feet
inches above the patio, the chain connecting her ankles slightly dragging the
surface of the patio.  She pointed her toes and tried desperately to make them
contact the surface of the patio but they were still scant inches between them
and the surface.  She squelched the desire to scream, already knowing it would
only lead to graver consequences. 

Sophia circled her like a cat.  Camera in hand she snapped a few quick shots of
the slave.  Her eyes drank in the helplessness of the woman and her fingers
began tracing the marks on Kara's body. 

For Kara it was a world of strange sensations, the feathery touch of Sophia
mixed with the trepidation of her plight.  She moaned as Sophia explored each
area of her body each mark left by an instrument of pain or a rope.  She hung as
Sophia's fingers skillfully traced under her breasts, her armpits and down her
sides.  Then they traced the edges of the chastity device, found sensitive
nerves at the edge of her tightly imprisoned sex and aroused a passion that
could not be quelled.

"I could whip you, you know, you're a lovely target, but I think you've had
enough, " her voice trailed off, "for this time anyway."  She returned to her
chair and continued, "Your time here this weekend is about at an end. In a way,
I want you left in a mental state of wondering what else could have occurred
this weekend.  Shortly, I'll send someone to assist you down and you will be
permitted to bathe.  The device will be removed while you do so, and then
reattached.  I will be leaving.  Is there anything you wish to say?"

Kara muttered, her body straining for breathe and simply uttered, "Thank you,
Mistress for allowing me to be here, to experience and to serve.

"Have your desires been awakened?  Do you know what you are?"

Again, Kara uttered, "yes, Mistress."

Sophia smiled.  She stood and walked to the doorway and paused.  She turned to
the hanging form, looked directly into Kara's eyes, and spoke softly, "you will
see me again."  Then she disappeared into the bedroom.

Kara hung by her wrists and turned her head toward the doorway.  She wanted to
beg.  Five minutes passed, then another five, and then another.  Jessica and
Annie appeared.  Without a word being spoken, they replaced the stool.  Jessica
unlocked the device from her waist and then the chains around her legs and then
looked at her.  "You will not speak, not utter a word until I give you
permission.  Do you understand?"

Kara nodded.  Annie climbed up and freed Kara from her restraints.  Holding her
tightly, she lowered her to the patio.

A few minutes later, Kara emerged nude from the bathroom.  For the first time in
hours, she felt almost human again after a shower and the opportunity to style
her hair.  Jessica reattached the chastity device and handed Kara the black
party dress.  Kara almost asked about a bra and panties but remained silent and
slipped the dress on.  Then Jessica handed her the carry on bag and motioned her
out of the room and through the house.  Stepping across the porch, Kara saw the
black Suburban with deep tinted windows and Luke standing by the right rear
door.  He motioned her toward the door and Kara slipped into the back seat. 
Annie got into the front passenger seat and Jessica sat next to Kara in the
back.  Kara took one final look toward the house hoping to catch a glimpse of
Sophia.  Her gaze was quickly blocked as Jessica slipped a black cloth around
her face covering her eyes and knotted it behind her head.  Luke slipped the
Suburban into gear. 

Kara heard the crunching of gravel under the tires.  Her heart pounded. 
Goosebumps covered her body as she departed the ranch.

Forty-Four Hours, Chapter 8


During the drive to the airport Jessica noticed that the thin straps and
neckline of the cocktail dress did little to hid the tell tale marks on Kara's
upper body.  The hem that had been hastily shortened the previous evening to her
upper thighs allowed additional marks to show.  That concerned Jessica.  She
reached behind her into the rear area of the Suburban and rummaged through
Kara's carryon bag until she found a white button up cotton sweater and a pair
of dark taupe panty hose.  Though not the perfect fashion statement, she knew
the sweater would cover the marks and the hose would at least make less
discernable the marks from the crop so visible on the legs. 

The suburban eased off I-25 and onto E470.  Since they were now well beyond any
point of Kara being able to retrace her route, Jessica loosened the knot of
Kara's blindfold and removed the covering.  Kara acknowledged her gratitude and
rubbed her eyes. 

"I'm going to do you a favor, one I probably shouldn't.  Perhaps I'm doing it
more for mistress than you, but I don't want to draw any unnecessary attention
to your marks, and goodness knows with your legs and the brevity of the dress,
you'll get enough as it is.  We just don't want them looking too closely." 
Jessica said slyly.  She handed Kara the sweater.  "This you can put on when you
get out of the car and the pantyhose, though, will have to wait until we remove
the chastity belt in the restroom at the airport." 

Minutes later, Luke guided the Suburban to the curb at the departure level of
the airport.  Jessica exchanged a few brief words with him instructing him to
return in thirty minutes for her and Annie.   With Jessica in the lead, the
three women walked briskly into the terminal.  She motioned them to the left
toward a rest room she knew would be less crowded.  Spying the half open door of
the handicapped stall, she knew luck was with her and she guided Kara into the
stall with her and slid the bolt.

A few minutes later, a slightly more normal Kara emerged from the restroom. 
Freed of the chastity device, she'd taken a moment to rearrange her hair and
check her make up in the mirror. She picked up her carry on bag and followed
Jessica and Annie out of the rest room.  The trio proceeded toward the screening
area where Jessica stopped and turned to Kara.  "This is as far as we can go. 
We'll wait until you've safely passed through the screening.  Do your best,
sweetheart."  Eyes met eyes and tears blurred Kara's vision as she held Jessica
tightly and broke into an emotional release.  Traces of moisture filled the
corners of Jessica's eyes.  "I love you.  I have a feeling we'll meet again
sometime."  She hugged Kara tightly one last time.  Softness enveloped the two
women until Jessica broke the embrace.  Kara then turned to Annie and exchanged
a passionate embrace.

As expected, Kara was detained at security and led to an area where she was
questioned on the collar.  Finally, when she said she was undergoing a type of
initiation and this was her symbol, the watchful eye of the female security
agent nodded her head and indicated she was free to go.  Now she walked down the
corridor, quite relieved that passing through the security checkpoint had not
been more embarrassing.  What she had feared most was the possibility of a strip
search; what she didn't know was that Jessica had lingered specifically in the
event it happened. 

Kara scanned the reader board to confirm her departure gate and proceeded to the
line of travelers waiting to obtain their boarding pass.  Moments later she
stood before the airline attendant, a tall well groomed brunette who appeared to
be her age, and handed her the ticket.  "I'm in 17 C, I think."  Kara spoke
quietly.  The attendant keyed some information into her computer and then looked
up at Kara.  "No, you've been upgraded to 3A, first class." 

"Upgraded?  But I ..." Kara hesitated.

The gate attendant extended the ticket receipt and boarding pass across the
counter.  "Courtesy of 'The Coterie' "

Kara looked stunned and took her flight envelope containing the boarding pass
for 3A.  "I don't understand," she spoke softly at the attendant.

"The collar, honey, it's their trademark.  From what I saw and what I've been
told you need a little extra comfort."

Astonished looks swept over Kara's face and her lips quivered.  "From what you
saw....  Please I don't understand!  What are you trying to tell me?"

"You probably didn't remember me.  There would have been no reason too, really. 
I was seated back in one of the alcoves Saturday night.  Enjoy your flight. 
Next in line please!" 

Dumbfounded and unable to control the trembling that suddenly consumed her body;
Kara stood aside, took a final look at the attendant, and walked to the gate. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------

She'd halfway expected Maya to be at the terminal though no definite
arrangements had been spoken between either of them.  She slowly walked through
the terminal, stopped, turned searched for Maya and when she finally realized
she wasn't there she clutched her carryon bag and walked downcast through the
outer doors of the lower level of the terminal and then slowly toward the
overflow parking lot just east of the main deck.  She spotted her silver colored
Volvo, and a moment later, the jeans clad figure leaning against the trunk
staring at her through the glare of the parking lot lights.  It was a moment
that would be framed forever in her mind. 

Maya tossed her cigarette to the ground and crushed the glowing tip under her
boot.  "Hello, slave," was all she said.  Kara's eyes filled with emotion and
the forty-four hours of servitude flooded over her and rushed like waves at high
tide onto the beach and into her eyes.  Tears flooded down her cheeks.  She
dropped her bag, hugged Maya, and sobbed as if she was a child until Maya's
hands wrapped around her shoulders providing some sense of comfort, of
acceptance and understanding.  Maya felt the dampness of Kara's face against her
black cotton top and she lifted Kara's face and pressed her lips into hers.  The
kiss was forceful, consuming and consoling.

Maya broke the kiss and looked into the tear stained face.  "I understand they
marked you pretty good.  I've spoken with Sophia."

Kara weakly nodded, trying to hold back her tears. 

Maya slowly pushed Kara back to arms length and her eyes focused on the thin
stainless steel collar still locked around her slim neck.  The thin white button
up sweater Kara had worn on the plane hid the full effect of the collar.  There
was clearly no evidence of a bra and Maya suspected no panties as well, though
she did not explore her thought.  At the moment, it was irrelevant.  She glanced
down at Kara's toned legs and noted the panty hose and the black high heels. 
Even under the artificial glare of the parking lot lights, the tear streaked
face that echoed the tiredness in her body and the disheveled hair, Kara was for
all intents and purposes, still stunningly attractive considering what she'd
endured. 

From the shadows of a minivan parked adjacent to her car another figured
appeared, "hello, Kara"

Kara turned.  Debra!  Oh baby!"  She fell into the arms of her long time friend
and broke into tears again.  Friendship and passion permeated the lingering
embrace until Maya intervened and turned Kara back to face her.

Maya's fingers found the two pearl covered buttons at the neck of the sweater
and quickly undid each one and slipped the sweater down her arms and threw it
across the trunk of the car.  "Slide the straps off your shoulders and the dress
down to the waist.  I want to see." 

Kara remembered looking at Maya in astonishment.  "Here?"

The reply was adamant.  "Yes, here!"

At this hour approaching midnight she looked at Maya and Debra and then quickly
around the lot.  She slipped the straps from her shoulders gathering the top of
the cocktail dress in her hands around her waist.  Maya motioned her to turn and
then turn back to her.  Marks from the flogging lay on top of marks from the
afternoon on the ridge and on top of those, the telltale rope marks still so
evident from the stringent bondage

"Oh my god,' Debra gasped. "  I had no idea!  Oh Kara!"

"Pull it back up," Maya spoke again.  "I'll want you at my place Tuesday evening
promptly at seven o'clock.  I'll want a complete look at you and a chance to
hear your side of it.  Debra, you should be there, too."

"What did Sophia say?  I know she talked to you and sent you pictures."

"That doesn't matter right now.  We'll discuss it Tuesday.  Now, can you drive
home or do you want Debra to drive you?" 

"I think I can manage, but what about the collar?  I can't wear it home."

"That I can take care of, but the marks, how will you hide those from him?" 
Maya withdrew a small hexagonal wrench from her pocket, reached for the collar
and inserted the end into the tiny hole that secured it.  A few twists of the
tiny wrench loosened the lock and Maya pulled it free.  Kara rubbed her neck
feeling a strange feeling of freedom since the collar was attached to her neck
Friday evening in the hotel.

Kara sighed and paused before speaking, "Obviously he can't see me naked for a
few days: it's my problem, I'll handle it."

Maya reaffirmed that Kara was to be at her place Tuesday night, at seven sharp,
kissed her again.  Kara turned to Debra.  Again, the two exchanged an embrace of
a friendship that spanned several years. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------

Kara arrived at Maya's promptly at seven Tuesday evening.  Debra had preceded
her by a few minutes and was sipping wine when Kara entered.  Upon entering,
Kara dropped to her knees and bent until her face was at Maya's feet.  Maya
smiled and stroked the blondish hair of the woman and then spoke, "Debra, I want
you to be a witness to what has transpired.  Kara, stand and remove your
clothes.  I need to see you."

Kara did so and unashamedly removed her clothing until she stood naked facing
Maya. 

"Turn slowly for me. Hold your arms out straight.  I want to see all of you."

Kara rotated her body in a slowly in a complete circle until she was again
facing Maya.  Debra was stunned and nearly blurted something out until a look
from Maya froze the words in her throat.  Kara looked at Maya and hesitatingly
asked, "What do you think?"
 
Maya smiled.  She reached for the decanter of wine, poured three glasses of her
favorite Chianti, and handed one to Kara.  "I've seen worse, but I want to hear
about the entire weekend, from you.  I want your thoughts.  Sophia gave me the
highlights.  Now I want the details and I want them from you." 

Kara began.  She recaptured the mental images from her mind and began relating
them one by one to Maya beginning with Friday evening in the hotel, kneeling on
the tape squares in the suite waiting for Sophia and how almost without warning
she'd been led deeper into submission hour by hour, event by event.  Through the
narrative, Debra felt strangely uncomfortable and fought the urge to rush from
the room.  By the time Kara reached the events of Saturday evening, all wine
glasses were empty and after asking Maya for permission to refill the glasses,
she continued into the events of Sunday morning and concluded with her
experiences at the airport.   

Segments of clipped conversation followed between the three until Kara seized a
pause.  "Maya, tell me ... what is 'The Coterie'?  What is it really?  Are you a
part of it?"

Maya looked straight at Kara,  "I'll answer this way.  There will be changes in
your life now.  You don't know them; I don't know all of them.  There will be
fears.  Fear is an evolving process.  What does someone in your position fear
most?  Acceptance?  Is it acceptance of their place or the fear of being
rejected?  Of being left?  Being physically beaten?  Being brought out?" 

"Am I a part of the Coterie?  I will only say that slaves ... true slaves ...
have real fear of me as I do have a history.  I look at a slave and see memories
of many years and faded faces.  Confrontations, leaving beating marks, words
loud and hurtful, leaving errant property to explain their being found, leaving
them to be ostracized, to face humiliation."  Maya paused and sipped her wine
then continued, "No, not this one, not you.  Not now.  Not this way, at this
time.  Might in the future but there is something else here, but lessons will be
taught.  Lessons will be learned."

Maya, what are you telling me?  I don't understand, I only asked ..."

"Silence!  I approach slaves as property.  It tries to speak, to grovel.  A cuff
of my hand it knows better than to say a word.  Hands are joined behind, chains
are put on its ankles, leashed... driving forward ... leading it around what is
to become it's former home... coming to the foyer of its home. Oh yes, I've
shoved the slave to the wall ... then turn its face back to its home, letting it
take one last look at what it had. 

Maya paused, lit a cigarette and exhaled the smoke slowly in Kara's direction. 
"I have said to some, 'that was your last look slave.  What was will not be
again.  This is how you come into my world, naked as the day you were born.  If
you return here, if I allow it, you will reenter the same way, but with a
interesting reception I am sure.'  " 

"I have quickly opened the door and shoved the slave outside, pushed it to my
van ... watched it seated in the small back seat.  Attached its' chains to the
runners on the floor.  I drive it away.  Looking back in the mirror I see its
eyes look back at what it thought was its home ... hear a sob ... and
resignation that new life springs from the old."

"Will I take you?  No.  It will not be me.  Will you be taken?  Isn't that your
real question, Kara? 

Tears welled in the corners of Kara's eyes and she lowered her face to her palms
and sobbed.  "Yes dear god....  Oh Maya...."

Debra reached for her friend and wrapped her arms around the trembling body. 
She too broke into tears. 

"What do you envision, Kara?  Do you seek the face behind the mirror?"  Maya
spoke softly and forcibly at her quivering prey.  "Picture a working warehouse,
people moving machinery, goods moving, boxes, cargo.  The slave looks, yes
nudity.  The workers are nude.  They're collared and chained, both male and
female.  They take no notice of the slave.  A look earns punishment, the slave
can see some marked.  A male in a chastity device, obviously didn't know when to
be excited.  Slaves chained to tables, packing, moving.  Tits, asses, cocks,
legs and arms jiggling ... males flexing, and a new butch chained here also.  My
loud laugh as it struggles to accept.  On to the back, the bosses,  hard people,
the slave is turned over for preparation.  Led by a male, the slave is made to
void into a bucket, then cleaned out.  It's packed into a kennel cage as for a
dog, a pet.  Tagged, and put onto a van with other goods.  I see the slave peek,
watching me, much as my loyal dog bitch does as she sees me leave each day. 
Still smart enough to not cry out.  Obviously the slave has seen one brand being
worn in here, and doesn't want the same treatment."

Raising her tear-stained face from Kara's shoulder, Debra flashed a furious look
at Maya and screamed.  "You can't!  It's inhumane!  I didn't bargain for this
when I brought her to you, you bitch!  I thought you were my friend!" 

"What I am doesn't matter, does it, Debra?"  She shot a look back at Debra. 
"What matters now is what Kara thinks, what she does, where she goes."  Maya
turned back to Kara, "What matters is that you may be called, not by me.  You
weren't meant for me.  I was simply finding someone.  Am I a part of 'The
Coterie?'  It doesn't matter.  I am my own person.  Now dress and both of you
get out!" 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------

Kara sat at her desk and stared blankly at the stack of memoranda that begged
attention.  None of it created a sense of urgency nor made any impression that
she should snap out of her reverie.  How long had she been sitting, staring, and
it wasn't the first time.  Three weeks had passed since she returned from
Colorado and the periods of reflection were becoming more pronounced, entering
her mind more frequently and interrupting her daily routine.  At times, she
almost thought she heard voices in the space around her.   

Now she looked up, glanced around the office and reassured herself no one was
there except within her thought.  She got up, closed the door to her office and
walked over to the window that overlooked one of the several courtyards of the
office campus.  Four story office buildings framed three sides of the open area
and a small lake, largely inhabited by geese formed a panorama on the other
side.  From her second floor office, her eyes fell to the small stone bench by
the lake tucked under a cluster of pines and hardwoods and dotted with under
plantings of azaleas and holly.  The shade beckoned invitingly.  Her mind
flashed back to the shade deep within the trees that dotted the ridge some 1300
miles to the west and that fateful Saturday afternoon when she has been
repeatedly forced into submission on the ridge and then her thoughts flashed
forward to the final hours of that fateful weekend.

Kara sighed and shook her head as if that would disperse the memory, as if she
was casting a bad dream out of her mind.  She picked up her cigarettes, filled
her coffee from the carafe, and headed toward the stairs.  On her way by the
second floor lobby, she briefly told her administrative assistant, that she'd be
back.  She passed through the outer door of the sprawling building and into the
courtyard.  Upon reaching the bench, she sat and stared out over the lake
watching the geese paddling back and forth.  Her mind seemed transfixed on the
ripples they created on the surface of the lake and her mind wandered again,
this time to the Tuesday evening at Maya's where more questions had surfaced
than answers has been provided.   

For three weeks, she had wrestled with the memories and tried even harder to
make sense out of Maya's ramblings.  Her daily life for all practical purposes
had been at a standstill.  Here body now bore no reminders of that weekend but
in her heart and soul, it was if she was still at the ranch.  She withdrew
another cigarette from her pocket, flicked her lighter, and watched the smoke
dissipate in the afternoon air.

Now Kara's eyes returned to the ripples on the lake and she followed the
rhythmic pattern to the grassy bank on the far side of the lake.  Her eyes
glanced up the slope to another bench; another bench occupied by another woman
who seemed to be staring back across the water at her.   

----------------------------------------------

Forty-Four Hours, Part 9

The woman on the other side of the pond continued to stare across the 200 feet
that separated her from Kara.  Sensations of uneasiness pervaded Kara's body and
she quickly snubbed out the cigarette, gathered her coffee cup and turned back
to the building. 

Entering her office, she closed the door and fell into her chair, letting her
trembling that consumed her body subside.  She closed her eyes s if trying to
reassure herself that she had over reacted to the woman sitting on the other
side of the pond.  When calmness returned she picked up a manila folder and
started reviewing the contents until a ring on her cell phone interrupted her
concentration.

Kara cradled the device to her ear but before she could speak, a female voice
flavored in alto tones, with a raspy, clipped accent spoke into her ear, "Why
did you run?"

"Who is this?  What do you want?"  Kara blurted back.

"Who I am isn't important, what I have to say, is.  So listen.  Take notes if
you wish to, but take a deep breath first and calm down."

Kara sighed and exhaled slowly into the phone, "alright."

The voice continued, "you've had some time to reflect since you returned from
Colorado ... time to reflect on what happened, what you are, what you want, what
perhaps may lie in store for you."

"Did Maya send you here?"  Kara blurted out again.

"Asking questions can sometimes be viewed as a bad habit that displeases some
people.  This is not about Maya; it's about you.  Now," the voice paused, then
continued," you have two choices.  You can disconnect the call right now,
receive no further communication from us and always wonder what would have been. 
Or, you can listen and consider what I have to say.  You have exactly 15 seconds
from right now to decide..."

Kara glanced at the wall of bookcases opposite her desk.  Her heart pounded and
her frightened mind raced like waves rushing to pound against a sandy beach and
she started quivering, almost dropping the cell phone.  Her fingers tightened
around it.  From somewhere within her a voice that was almost not hers spoke, "
I'll listen."  For another ten minutes, she listened afraid to breath as if the
sound of her own breathing would interfere with her aural senses.  Furiously she
scribbled notes into her planner!  Then the voice ceased; the line went dead. 
Kara sat breathless for a few minutes, then gathered up her things and left the
office.

The next morning, a Thursday, an express mail envelope arrived via postal
courier exactly as the voice said.  Now Kara stood in the foyer clutching the
envelope in both hands and pressed her body against the front door as if she
never wanted it to open again.  She remained like that for a few moments and
then gathered up enough composure to walk across the white tiled floors of the
large foyer, through the great room and into the kitchen.  There she poured
herself another cup of coffee, went back to the great room, reached into the bar
and added a healthy splash of Baileys.  Heaven knows she would need it!

Pulling the pale yellow robe around her otherwise nude body until her perky
nipples pressed hard against the silk fabric, she retied the sash, and took the
coffee and the envelope upstairs to her personal study.  There in complete
solitude, she eased her nervous body into her reading chair.  She lit a
cigarette then touched a flame to the wick of the jasmine scented candle on the
table by her chair.  Sunlight that would flirt with the 90 degree range later in
the day filtered through the sheers behind opened flowered drapes and cast a
warm glow around her small but sumptuously decorated study.

The upstairs air conditioner kicked in and the low humming was all that
interrupted her thoughts as she stared at the envelope.  The humming distracted
her.  She got up, put Beethoven's Seventh Symphony on the CD player and sat down
to music in which she could get lost.  And she felt lost, beginning to doubt her
desires and questioning how had she let it go this far?  Courage, or was it
curiosity, came from somewhere deep within her.  She pulled the tab back on the
envelope and withdrew the documents.  Just as the voice had said, they were all
there: a Personal Services Agreement, a Schedule of Payments, a Waiver of
Liability and a Power of Attorney. 

She looked at the documents without reading, knowing that she would read them;
she would have to, but at that moment, all she could do was question her own
sanity.  No one could be this insane.  Or could they?  As she stared at the
documents, she drew heavily on the cigarette and sipped frequently at the
Baileys and coffee.

Then she began to read.  The documents were expertly drafted; she should know,
for at that moment she still was an attorney.  She continued.  The more she read
the more her sensations built under her robe, her thighs ached suddenly in a
strange way.  Her tummy fluttered then tightened and the documents danced before
her eyes as her hands began shaking.  She finished the three pages of the
Personal Services Agreement and glanced at the schedule of payments.  It was
exactly as the voice said it would be.  She picked up the one page Waiver of
Liability and finally the brief Power of Attorney.  By then, the sensations
consumed her body and became overwhelming, desperately begging for attention. 
She untied the sash of the robe and lifted her feet to the ottoman in front of
the reading chair. 

She opened the robe and let it fall away from the front of her nude body then
placed the documents on the chair side table.  Her eyes glanced at her body and
wanted to touch it in a passion like never before.  The fingers of her right
hand found the glistening sex as her left hand began roaming across her breasts. 
She pinched her nipples and drove her fingers deeper against the insatiable
craving of her lower body.  Her mind raced back to the ridge, to the great room
of Sophia's ranch house and the whipping so skillfully administered.  Within
30-seconds she was exploding as if she were twenty years younger and making love
for the first time.  The spasms ebbed; fingers wiped over the firmness of her
abdomen, and then drew the robe around her, almost ashamed at what she had just
done

She lit another cigarette and drained the last of the coffee and Baileys.  The
aroma of her secretions wafted around the room mingling with the fragrance of
the jasmine candle.  She picked up the documents again and flipped through them
to the blank signature line on each.  One thought pervaded her mind ... would I
actually sign myself into slavery?

Her mind digressed for a moment ... $300,000 for a five-year contract.  $50,000
payable upon purchase and $50,000 paid annually into a trust.  Money wasn't the
issue; it was, in truth a pittance compared to what she gleaned from her
practice.  She reflected on the voice, how the voice outlined details that left
her literally trembling.  But what struck her most poignantly was that this was
not idle chatter; this was planned completely. 

She closed her eyes and sank deeper against the chair.  Where was this perverse
fascination with servitude originating?  When did it start?  As her hand
lingered slowly around her now satiated sex, her mind traced back to an event
that happened when she was 14...

...She was in high school and a starter on the freshman girl's basketball team. 
After practice one afternoon, there was some chiding between her and another
girl on the team, Lynn.  She was taller but far less developed.  Kara, on the
other hand was well on her way to the 36 C's that graced her body today.  It
started verbally with each taunting, Lynn making fun of Kara's breasts, and Kara
retorting that Lynn was jealous since she was so flat and barely had any hint of
boobs.  There was some pushing in the shower but it stopped short of an
amateurish catfight.  Confident that she'd won, she had toweled off and put on
her bra and panties when Lynn reappeared with three other members of the team. 
An all out scuffle ensued.  Kara was overpowered and drug half clothed and
screaming back into the shower, pushed under the cold water and her soaked
lingerie ripped off.  With the other three girls holding her arms behind her and
keeping her under the spray, Lynn attacked her with her hands venting her fury
at those well-formed boobs, virginal sex and anguished face.  Finally, she drove
her fist into Kara's stomach and left her doubled-up on the floor of the shower
gasping for breath.  What made it worse was that every member of the team stood
egging her on. 

...That same evening, in bed between bouts of tears and humiliation, she
replayed the scene over and over in her formative mind.  Somehow the shame, the
humiliation she'd experienced began to turn into strange sensations of pleasure
as if it were the only way to make sense of what happened.  She imagined them
again, this time in her room standing triumphantly around the bed glaring down
at her, stretched and tied to the corners of the bed, and the four of them
continuing the beating and inserting things into her.  The thoughts wouldn't
leave and she frigged off again and again to that image and the experience in
the locker room.

And now, here she was, at 41, relishing in her own secretions.  Her mind flicked
from the locker room scene to the experience with Sophia.  It raced to other
situations she'd encountered in the 27 years between these events.  In each she
was the submissive, the object, be it at age 27 with a man, or at age 32 with a
lover, Diane, who has used her for months sadistically.  But in actuality, in
her mind, the feelings never subsided; only found a more hidden, less
conspicuous place in her psyche, turning into demons that ravaged her ancient
history.

Now there was Sophia, The Coterie, the voice on then phone and the documents
that lay beside her on the table.  Demons of that nature could not be so easily
dismissed.

After work on Friday, she sat in the law office of Elizabeth, a friend and
colleague who dealt in legal situations closer to these documents than her own
narrow specialty of software licensing.  Elizabeth also was a practitioner and
devotee of dominant and submissive activities whom she'd met originally at a
scene party.  Elizabeth reviewed the documents, paying particular attention to
the Personal Services Agreement.  "This is interesting," she stated slowly as
she took her reading glasses off the bridge of her nose, "In essence, you are a
commodity.  We both know slavery is illegal.  But as to how this particular
document is written, you're being treated like goods to be purchased.  Now if
something should arise and this came before a judge, it would be tossed out in
all likelihood.  But, honey, there are some crackpot judges out there, as we
both know, who might entertain this concept as legally binding." 

Kara exhaled the cigarette smoke slowly and sank back into the sofa.  

"Do you really want to do this?  And, if you do, would you stay here?  Be
allowed to maintain your practice?  Your marriage?"  She picked up her glass of
Irish whiskey over ice and sipped, studying Kara intently.

Kara sipped her own Irish whiskey and water.  "I don't know the answer to any of
those questions, Elizabeth" she replied, "I really don't.  Would you think I was
crazy?" 

"Maybe, but there is an escape clause in here.  If you don't work out or want to
leave after two weeks, you do have that option.  It's clearly stated."

Kara put down the glass.  "Yes, I saw that.  I guess I've got some thinking to
do, then..."

That evening Kara sat alone again within the solace of her study.  Her mind
reached back to Sophia then back farther to her husband, the coolness and lack
of passion in his relationship with her.  In a moment of naivete, frustration
and desire, she sighed each document and penned beneath her signature 'I'd like
to talk about this face to face.'  She sorted the copies and stuffed the
originals in the envelope The Coterie provided.  In her mid, she felt the
weekend would provide an adequate buffer of time, allowing her to decide to
actually mail the envelope on Monday.

Tuesday afternoon around 4:30, Kara's cell phone rang.  The voice again
beckoned,  "I see you follow instructions reasonably well.  Now ... copy down
this address, then, leave the office.  Take only your purse.  Be sure to have
your cell phone on.  Say nothing to anyone.  I expect to see you exit the front
door of your building within two minutes."  The call ended, leaving Kara
breathless.

She drove her Volvo to a shopping plaza some 15 miles away from her office and
parked.  Her fragmented mind rushed through all possible scenarios and brushed
past the legality of the documents she'd signed and mailed  ... maybe they are
willing to talk face to face ... maybe just clarify some issues, ask some
questions ...  Probably just go somewhere for a drink.

Within a couple of minutes, a dark green minivan with deep tinted windows pulled
up in the adjacent parking spot.  The rear sliding door opened and a woman's
raised voice resonated out of the van indicating for Kara to get in and bring
her purse.  Kara did so and settled into the right rear captain's chair while
the sliding door shut automatically, then locked.  She turned to her left to
look more closely at the woman who beckoned her.  She open her mouth but the
words 'hi, I'm Kara, I'm pleased to meet you' never escaped.  Without warning
from behind her in the rear of the van, strong hands grabbed at her arms and
pulled them around the sides of the seat.  Cuffs were snapped around each wrist
and secured her hands behind the seat back. 

"Please ... don't!"  She yelled.  She squirmed until a slap across her face
silenced both her words and her struggles.  A hood was forced down over her face
and ash blonde hair.  She shook her head violently from side to side until a
blow against her tummy left her gasping for breath.  Hands tugged the hood
quickly to her neck and zipped it down the back of her head.  Scissors began at
the hem of her red skirt.  She kicked at something unseen but succeeded only in
driving her foot into the back of the front seat.  By now the scissors reached
her waist, and hands ripped the skirt from her body.  The white blouse was next
and hands tugged the buttons apart while the scissors cut the bra away from her
breasts and then meticulously cut the blouse to shreds. 

"Lift your hips, bitch, and be quick about it!"  It was the voice, the same one
that had chilled her on the cell phone.  Kara contracted her sore tummy muscles,
tightened her legs and lifted her hips as far from the seat as she could.  She
felt the material of her panties and pantyhose cut apart and pulled crudely
away, exposing her body.  She sensed moisture between her inner thighs.  Her
thought was interrupted by another hand removing her black high-heeled pumps
from her feet and forcefully yanking the remnants of the pantyhose off her feet. 
Coolness settled over Kara's nude body and she gasped air into her lungs through
tiny slits around the nose of the hood.  She sank back against the seat while
hands worked the shoes back on her feet.  Pounding ebbed and slowly subsided. 
She felt the familiar secretions matting around her labial lips and she wanted
desperately to wipe it away.  Had her unseen captors noticed? 

They drove for a few minutes until Kara quickly lost all sense of direction. 
The delicate touch of feminine fingers traced across her sex and she heard the
voice again,  "I see you haven't been keeping yourself smooth here.  We'll
change that, of course, and a few other things as well.  We'll be there in five
minutes."

Kara could only nod and wonder where 'there' was?  After a sharp turn, the van
came to a stop and the doors were quickly opened.  She felt a collar wrapped
around her neck and heard the buckle snap shut.  Someone unfastened her wrists. 
She felt a sharp tug pulled her neck.  "Lets go, bitch!  Out!

Hooded, collared and leashed, Kara stumbled across a parking lot she could not
see.  Fingers wrapped around her upper arms and guided her through the rear door
of an old building.  She was tugged, pulled, guided down a corridor and into a
small room.  A chair was pushed behind her knees.  "Sit down."  Kara slowly
inched back until hands shoved against her shoulders and forced her into an old
wooden chair. 

"I'm going to remove the hood now, but before I do, I want you to sit quietly
and consider your situation.  First of all, you don't know where you are. 
Secondly, you are without a stitch of clothing.  What you wore when you entered
the van has now become rags and is being burned in the alley behind the building
as I speak.  Am I getting my point across, bitch?"

Kara nodded.  Almost as an afterthought she added, "Yes Ma'am."

The voice continued.  "The contents of your purse are being sorted through in
another part of the building.  Anything we find that should be mailed to that
cheating scum of a man you call a husband will be done so tonight.  There'll be
a typed note enclosed telling him you are safe and have chosen to leave him. 
Your car will be removed from where we left it.  Now, the hood." 

Kara felt fingers work the zipper up slowly, taking care to keep her hair from
getting entwined in the zipper until the hood was pulled free.  She blinked her
eyes and adjusted her vision to the bright light of the room.  Three women stood
before her, each attired in a crimson robe that fell to the ankles.  The only
difference being that one robe was trimmed with gold.  Kara surmised that woman
was the voice that had tormented her mind.  She stared at each in turn without
recognizing any of the faces that stared down at her.  Her gaze went beyond the
women and focused on the bareness of the room, the old red brick walls and
chipped paint of the doorway.  Her eyes fell on the two iron rings mounted into
the wall about head height and six feet apart.  She could only guess at what
they were there for.

The woman adorned in the robe with gold trim spoke in the alto voice Kara had
heard over the phone.  "There is no escape from this point on.  What was your
home is no longer your home.  What was your work is no longer your work.  You
have entered into our world.  You have become property of The Coterie."

An anguish shriek spilled from Kara's lips.  Chilsl crawled over her naked flesh
as she recalled Maya's ranting from three weeks ago.  She screamed again, this
time a clearly definable "NO!" echoed throughout the room.  She felt tears form
in the corners of her eyes and race down her cheeks.  She buried her face in her
hands and sobbed while her body shook uncontrollably.  Although she was
unfettered at the moment, she felt incapable of rising from the chair.  

"Yes, I'm sure you feel a certain sadness.  Change is fraught with emotion, but
discovery requires a journey.  Cry, slave, cry it out." the woman spoke softly
and paused until the pinnacle of emotion began to subside.  Then she continued,
"Let me explain the evening's events.  You are in the basement dressing room of
an old theatre.  Although plays are no longer staged here, tonight this theatre
will once again witness drama as it has for us in the past.  This time the drama
will be you and your future.  In approximately an hour and a half, you will be
led onstage just as you are now, naked as the day you came into this world. 
Your wrists will be restrained behind your back.  Your sex will once again be
smooth before you go on stage.  Once you are there, you will be expected to
stand quietly, yet erect and proud. 

The woman paused and looked at Kara deeply.  "Someone will come forward and
speak on your behalf.  You will, the entire time, remain displayed.  Though this
theatre seats approximately 100, there will be only 10-12 women in the audience. 
At the conclusion of that speech, you will be given certain commands.  If you
are told to spread, you will spread.  If you are told to turn, you will turn. 
Then after a few minutes, there will be bids placed.  In essence, you will be
auctioned.  The process will be silent.  Each woman will submit a sealed bid. 
The one who submits the highest bid will walk away with your leash.  You will
give nothing less than 100%.  If you give less, then you will be thrashed
severely to the point that what you endured in Colorado will seem like child's
play until you comply.  Do I make myself clear?"

Tears burst from her eyes again and she murmured a weak 'Yes Ma'am.'  Though
thoughts of who would speak for her quickly ravaged her mind, she dared not ask. 

The woman looked at her watch and then straight at Kara and nodded, "Then we
have no need of further conversation.  It's precisely 6:36.  The performance
begins at 8;00."  She turned and looked at the woman on her right.  "Prepare her
accordingly ..."

At 7:55, a freshly showered and prepped Kara stood off stage right.  The simple
collar that had been secured around her neck before she left the van had been
replaced with an exact copy of the one she wore during her weekend with Sophia,
a thin black leather collar embellished with crystal and a single small d-ring
hung in front.  To this d-ring her leash was attached and the short leash
dangled between her breasts.  Her wrists were bound with crimson cords snuggly
behind her back.  The woman selected to be her handler reached for the end of
the leash and gave one final look at her captive, then with a tug on the leash
led Kara to center stage to a spot the handler knew by heart even in the dark. 
The house lights of the old theatre were already darkened.  The clicking of
Kara's heels across the old wooden stage and the plodding of her handlers bare
feet were the only noises heard.  When she was positioned facing the audience,
her back straight, her hair falling to her shoulders, three spotlights
illuminated and captured Kara's full nudity in their glare.  Blinded by the
intensity of these lights, Kara stared out into the audience, unable to see past
the first row of empty seats. 

To her left the shuffling of sandaled feet and the swishing of cloth foretold
the presence of someone.  As desperately as she wanted to look, she dared not
turn her head.  In a moment, the crimson robe trimmed with gold passed into the
corner of her vision and stopped and the voice resonated into the old theatre, 
"I bid welcome to the each Countess of the Order of the Coterie.  Tonight there
will be two offerings presented for your consideration.  The first you see
before you, the second subject has just been led into the preparation room due
to an unfortunate incident with her attitude.  She will be brought onstage when
you have finished with this one.  You see before you, Kara, age 41.  You each
have been given the dossier on her, which in addition to the standard bio we've
assembled includes the pictures and comments provided by Countess Sophia. 
Momentarily, you will hear intimate details provided by the one who speaks on
her behalf.  Her contract is for $300,000 and five years.  Place your bids
accordingly.  As always, our evening will conclude with the Feast of
Consecration of the goddess in the suite upstairs.  We shall now begin."

The robed figure disappeared.  The clicking of another set of heels resonated
from stage right.  An unidentifiable figure of a woman now positioned her body
behind the podium and clicked on a tiny blue light that illuminated the surface
of the podium. 

Kara took a deep breath and closed her eyes.  Silently she whispered a small
prayer for courage.

Forty-Four hours, Part 10,


The pale blue glow from the reading light on the podium revealed little of the
woman who now stood quietly, only the soft curves or her breasts and upper arms,
the shoulder length brown tresses and the paleness of her skin.  She exhaled
softly, and then spoke, "Good evening.  My name is Debra; I'm a friend of
Kara's. 

At the first syllables of Debra's words, an anguished cry escaped Kara's lips
that began in low octaves and then build into a crescendo that filled the old
theatre with a discernable "Noooooo....  How could you!"?  Tears filled the
corners of her eyes and traced down her cheeks.  Her body trembled and turned
toward Debra.  Her trembling escalated into a spasmodic shaking; her tears
transitioned into uncontrollable sobbing.  

Two crimson robed figures rushed onto the stage.  Four hands quickly
repositioned her beneath the glare of the three spotlights.  One set of hands
released her and slapped her across the face twice.  Low hisses emanated from
one pair of lips directly into Kara's tear streaked face, "You will resume your
position ... you will not break it ... or you will be thrashed."  The other pair
of hands quickly drew a posture collar around her neck and tightened the
buckles, rendering useless any further movement of her head. 

Behind the podium, Debra paused and turned to Kara, " I'm sorry Kara, but, whom
better than I?"

The two robed women stood on either side of their charge and waited until her
emotions subsided and the labored breathing that caused the rapid rising and
falling of her breasts resumed a more normal rhythm.  They wiped the tears from
her face and quietly slipped back into the darkened recesses off stage.  For a
moment, Kara closed her eyes and recounted her thoughts in the brief span of
time since she was told someone would speak for her.  In her mind, she had
assumed it would be Maya.  Perhaps even someone from the ranch in Colorado, but
the faintest trace of Debra never crossed her frayed mind.  

When stillness returned, Debra continued.  "Kara and I have been friends since
we met at the university.  In a way, the friendship might seem unlikely; she was
in law school and I was a part time undergrad student, part time administrative
assistant.  I'm five years younger than she.  We shared many similar thoughts,
one of which was that neither felt particularly suited to the role of
motherhood, the "mommy track" we called it back then.   

Our friendship is, and has been, simply that, a friendship, someone to talk to,
to shop with, to share coffee with on a Saturday afternoon, and at times, to
share our private thoughts.  There was a time just before my own brief marriage
that we explored one another intimately." 

Kara's fondness for submissive sexual fulfillment is a desire that I've never
quite possessed yet I respect her and find the desire fascinating.  I admire the
way she's opened up to me and those conversations heightened our friendship. 
There was one particular afternoon, though, that I want to mention and this is
really where I want to begin."

As Debra's words flowed, Kara could only stand and listen.  The rigidity of the
collar prohibited any significant movement of her head and the final threat of
the crimson robed woman still echoed silently within her.

Debra relaxed and gazed out into the audience, which she could barely see.  In a
trace-like state, she began speaking again...

"We were having a late lunch at the Evergreen, a restaurant that had become a
gathering spot for a more open, unconventional type of crowd; one the typical
tourist to the district rarely frequents.  I looked at Kara.  Her head leaned
against the painted brick wall of the cafe, her eyes rolled upward and stared
into the upper dining alcoves on the mezzanine level.  I'd seen that look
before, a restless yearning look."

I softly smiled and said, "Hello?  Where are you"?

Without looking at me she spoke, "I'm in the concert hall ... leaving the lower
balcony after Burckner's Eighth. "  Her eyes rolled in my direction, her voice
was melodic, "you know, you were there with me..."

I nodded and recalled the evening.  There was scarcely a dry eye among the
patrons leaving the hall as if the sheer reverence of the 90-minute symphony,
played without intermission, had cast a spell over the entire gathering.  But as
I looked at Kara, I knew there was more.  I'd seen this look before. 

She now focused her eyes on me, temporarily ignoring the slightly effeminate
waiter as he placed the second glass of the house white wine beside her half
consumed salad, the little scraps of chicken, mandarin oranges and walnuts
scattered about the orchid colored plate.  "Don't ... don't ask.  I know what
you're about to say ... I know you, Kara.  And you know me.  I can't do it."

Her body relaxed in the soft cushion of the chair and settled back, her right
hand drawing the glass of wine closer to her.  "You can tell, can't you?"

I knew the look, the visible body language, the way her hand slightly shakes,
the way her lips curl.  I recalled our conversations that began years ago.  One
afternoon at her home, I was seated on the edge of the hot tub, she came up to
me, fully immersed in the swirling water, and her lips began forming words of
her inner desires.  She'd asked me to take her, not in just an intimate way, but
to fully control her.  Just for the evening.  In no way did I disbelieve what
passed from her lips but I knew that wasn't within me to fulfill.

As I finished my salad, Kara leaned across the table and spoke softly, "You
could, if you put your mind to it.  I'll guide you..."

I looked her straight into her eyes.  "It's more than that for you, Babe.  You
don't need a guide; you need more than I can give.  And you know it.  You
remember a few months ago what happened.  That's as far as I know how to take
it.  But I'll listen..." The conversation continued until we both knew any
further talk was futile.  I picked up the check and pushed her money back across
the table telling her that it was my treat and the least I could do.

Throughout the week, I drifted back to the conversation with Kara.  And then my
mind went to a thought that had lingered in the back of my consciousness a
couple of days before ... there was a woman whom I believe some of you know,
Maya, whom I'd met recently.  Maya had a certain air that at first I couldn't
quite describe.  I work in the performing arts so I meet a wide variety of
people.  I'd assisted Maya in lining up sponsorships for a dance company
comprised of underprivileged high school kids.  One day after work, she invited
me out for a drink, a friendly way of saying thanks for my help in arranging the
sponsorship.  A couple of other women, friends of Maya's, joined us.  During the
second round of drinks Maya shot a look at Allene, one of the other women who
had joined us and asked her where she found that 'thing' she was with Saturday
night.  Allene replied that actually the 'thing' had been staring at her on
flight out of DC and she'd confronted her, called her bluff and drug her away. 
Maya chuckled that she needed to find one of those right now.  I didn't ask too
many questions but I caught enough of the conversation to understand that
'thing' had been kept at Allene's getaway cottage along the shores of Lake Erie
that particular weekend.

Even after the arrangements for the dance performance had passed, I'd had
several opportunities to spend time with Maya and I really found her
interesting.  Then I started piecing together things ... things like Maya and
Kara.  But was it really my place to intervene in either of their lives? 
Throwing my inhibitions aside, I dialed Maya's office.  I mentioned briefly
there was a topic I wanted to discuss, something that bordered on what we talked
about back at the bar and a friend of mine.  We agreed to meet at her house for
drinks and a light meal.

I arrived at Maya's home the following Friday evening.  Her house was small,
cozy and decorated in violet and blue tones.  We settled in on the sofa and I
looked at the alluring nature of what sat across from me.  Even under the faded
jeans, black sweater and suede hiking style boots a certain eminence pervaded. 
Her curly chestnut hair was pulled back and a bandana knotted around her head. 
Looking into her face, I became intently aware of how much I wanted to deliver
Kara to her, to somehow show my participation in this situation

Maya had placed several candles, lavender and white tapers on a large table. 
Intermixed with them were two novena candles, their red wax forming a pool
within the glass cylinder.  On the coffee table was a mirrored tray where
tall-pillared candles emitted scents of lilac.

Strains of a symphony drifted from her cd player.  "It's pretty.  What is it?"

"Shubert's Ninth," Maya replied.

I smiled and sheepishly said, "I had no idea you went for classical music."

She laughed.  "I'm not all hard butch, I have many moods.  Wine?"

Maya poured expensive Chianti.  We engaged in small talk while I worked my way
through the first glass of wine.  The mood was soft, perfect for me to begin. 
Maya refilled my glass and looked at me.  "This friend of yours, tell me...
what's going on?"

I sipped the wine and began slowly, "I've known her for years.  She's also an
attorney, early 40's, attractive, physically fit and ... I've just wondered
lately if it might be appropriate for the two of you to meet, ... she's rather
... submissive in her nature ... married, but no kids.  Ever since the
conversation between you and Allene at the bar about three weeks ago, I just
wondered.  I think she's looking for someone ... she's even asked me to cater to
her.  I have no problem with her desires, but it's not really my forte'.  Maya
leaned forward, listening intently, catching every word, and the look on her
face urged me to continue.  

I nodded, not exactly certain of where to go next with my portrayal but I told
her music is almost always involved.  It sets a backdrop for her moods.  Kara's
visions and experiences revolve around two things...  the music plus she has a
penchant for themes of redemption, absolution ... how she views herself as a
sacrifice ... almost like she's an offering to the one controlling her. 

Maya spoke reassuringly, "Yes, I've known a few others with similar feelings. 
The thought is, that if one offers herself to another under the pretext of a
religious nature or a higher calling, it somehow makes what they're doing more
palatable, and with less chance of internal guilt afterwards."
 
I continued, "Kara has been with two or three partners before she was married
and she's slipped in one or two since her marriage.  Probably the strongest was
a woman named Diane.  She wandered in and out of her life for about eight
months.  Kara had even shown me the pictures.  I recalled the times she
mentioned after a good session with Diane she would go jogging the following
morning and the pain in her breasts, thighs and buttocks from the bondage and
floggings intensified the run.  She once told me of an afternoon with Diane. 
After making love, she was tied, lying on the floor.  Diane put several
classical CD's on the player, mostly from the Baroque era, and left the house
for several hours.  Kara told me how she rolled on the floor, absorbing the
music and feeling the ropes.  As the intensity of the ropes became more
pronounced, she drifted into some form of subspace, savoring her helplessness. 
To her, it was heaven.

Looking at the candles, I nodded, and a devious smile crossed my face and I said
to her, Wax ... let me tell you about something that happened recently.  One
evening when her husband was out of town, she called me and said she was going
to do what she referred to as a deep session on herself..."

At these words, Kara felt her face redden.  Was it guilt?  Shame? 
Embarrassment?  She knew where Debra was going.  For the first time she closed
her eyes and silently wished the floor would open up and swallow her ...
anything to remove her from hearing the words that were to follow... though her
body was bared, Debra was now delving into her soul, stripping bare her most
private moment...

Debra continued, "The plan was that if she had not called me by 10:00, I was to
drive over to her place, use my key and check on her.  I waited until nearly
10:20 and still had not heard from her, so I drove out to her place.  I entered,
called out to her and didn't receive an answer.  I figured she was either in the
basement or one of the upstairs bedrooms.  I went to the basement first and
didn't find her so I went back, checked the main rooms, even the pantry, and
then started up the stairs to the upper level.  As I did, I heard a soft muffing
sound from the back bedroom.  I knew she was there.

By now Maya's smile had covered her face.  She unlaced the boots and curled her
feet up under her.  She asked me pointedly what I found.

I took another sip of the wine and continued.  "She was nude and leaning back
against a wall in a spare unfurnished room in her home.  Her ankles were tied to
her thighs with thick rope, left ankle to left thigh, right ankle to right
thigh, until her heels were almost against her buttocks.  She'd wound rope
around her upper body, above and below her breasts, then run a rope from the
lower rope between her breasts and tied it behind her neck.  She had gagged
herself with a red ball gag.  Her hands were cuffed behind her, you probably
know, with those police type cuffs." 

Maya gave me a knowing smile and then asked of Kara's reaction, was she
embarrassed or was she excited to be found like that? 

Truthfully, I think she was relieved to see me.  No lights were on in the room. 
The moonlight through the windows and the glow of the candles she'd set around
her cast a mood about the room.  I could see the remnants of wax from one of the
candles still on parts of her body.  She'd used a variety of clamps on her labia
and nipples apparently but they weren't on her when I arrived.  A bottle of
pinot noir, about half empty, was sitting on the floor along with her cigarettes
and an ashtray.  I asked her if she was okay.  She nodded.  I stood there for a
moment and contemplated what to do.  I told her I'd be back in a minute and she
started making those muffing sounds again into her ball gag.  I ignored her and
went back downstairs, leaving her muffing into the gag.  I sat on the sofa for a
few minutes and thought.  Then I got another wine glass and went back upstairs
to her.  I poured myself a glass of wine and sat against the wall opposite her. 
I lit a cigarette, sipped my wine and asked her if she wanted the gag out.  She
indicated she did.  I looked at her while I finished my cigarette.  My presence
was having an effect on her.  I told her to move her knees out as far as she
could, that if she wanted the gag out it was going to be my way. 

In a strange way I began to realize that I had complete power over her.  I
really didn't want it, but I knew that if I walked out right then and there,
she'd be like that all night.  But, she's my friend and I couldn't do that.  I
snubbed out my cigarette and walked over to her.  I told her if I took the gag
out, there'd be a price to pay.  I don't know why I said that but she nodded her
head as if she understood.

I looked at her and saw her drool had trickled down her chin and onto her
breasts.  I made some insinuating remarks about her drooling like a baby and
took the gag out.  Then I removed my flats and pushed my toe into her sex.  She
moaned like crazy and tried to wiggle her body against my toe.  I knew she'd
cumm in a minute if I kept on so I stepped back.  Then, I went back the opposite
wall and sat down.  I looked at her and started chiding her, calling her a slut. 
I told her to tell me about it, what she'd done.  I lit another cigarette,
picked up my wine and told her to start talking.  

She said things had been bad lately, that her moods were really peaking, so she
thought of this, asking me to come over if she hadn't called.  She told me she
absorbed the scene she created in the back room as long as she could.  From time
to time, she flagellated her breasts and thighs and used the clamps from time to
time.  She took the candles and repeatedly poured the wax across her body.  She
had no idea how long it had gone on but I remember she called me around 7:30
that particular evening.  She'd used her small vibe until she was wild then
she'd cuffed herself.  Listening to all her babble and looking at her still tied
up, really turned me on.  I unzipped my shorts and rubbed myself to an orgasm. 
After I relaxed, I went over to her, picked up the flogger, took the handle, and
rubbed her pussy with it until she screamed and orgasm again.  I took the key
from the floor and unlocked her cuffs.  That's all.  I figured she could get out
of the rest of it.  I kissed her.  Then, I walked out and told her to call me in
the morning at the office. 

At that point, I paused in my conversation with Maya.  I knew that I was
betraying all Kara told me in confidence; yet, in the betrayal I began to feel I
was leading her toward fulfillment.  I leaned forward close to Maya's face, and
asked her directly, am I off base here, or is this the kind of thing that
interests you?

Maya reflected on everything I'd said ... redemption ... absolution ... beatings
... captive feelings ... letting go ... giving up control ... and then we agreed
on a time and place for them to meet.

The following Saturday afternoon, Kara and I wandered around Dupont Circle,
browsing a couple of art shops.  We stopped for coffee near the circle and Maya
arrived as I planned.  Kara was instantly attracted to the mysterious presence
of the taller chestnut haired woman.  Maya was dressed to project a certain
image, from the tight jeans, to the Western styled brown boots.  Hidden behind
her thin dark glasses, Maya looked at Kara, spoke directly towards her and I saw
Kara recline, giving up space into which Maya advanced.  Maya ordered an
espresso and lit a cigarette.  She blew the smoke across the table and muttered, 
"been a bitch of a week."

"What do you do?"  Kara inquired.

Maya sipped the steaming black liquid.  "Attorney.  Small stuff ...nothing
glamorous.  I work with social services organizations, churches, that kind of
stuff ... making sure everybody gets a fair shake."

Talk continued for a few minutes as two attorneys traded elements of their
respective practices.  I noticed Kara slowly becoming absorbed in Maya's
conversation.  Then Maya looked at Kara and said there's something I'd like to
show you.  Maya remarked that she knew of a place, an Old Catholic cathedral
just a few blocks away that she'd like to show us.  I looked at Kara and saw her
eager to explore.  Deep within me, I knew she had no idea what was to follow. 

We left the coffee bar and walked south through the crowded streets in the brisk
air, talking about non-descript things until we arrived at the Cathedral of the
Saints.  The three of us climbed the two-dozen or so stairs from the street. 
Entering, Kara gasped at the vastness of the stone interior from its' carved
relief's, to the mammoth dome, rising nearly 100 feet above the sanctuary floor. 
To each wing was a small altar with rows of candles burning.  I watched Kara
walk halfway down the right aisle and sink to her knees behind a pew.  She
stared upward.  The three of us sat there for a few minutes while a priest
prepared the center altar for the evening Mass.  Kara was absorbed and I knew
it. 

For a few minutes, we knelt and Kara became immersed by the beauty and reverence
in the surroundings.  Maya softly grasped Kara's upper arm and rose first,
motioning for us to follow her.  She quietly walked back toward the entrance and
into a small baptismal room off to one side.  The floor was cut from large stone
blocks perhaps three feet square.  The walls were entirely of stone.  Layers of
blocks perhaps three feet high and six feet long encased the interior walls of
the room.  A cross was chiseled into the corner of each block.  Small narrow
windows near the ceiling emitted the only light into the room.  A dais stood at
one end of the small room and a carved wooden chair stood alone there.  Save for
the font and the chair, no other furniture or objects graced the room.

Kara walked to one wall and reached out and touched the stone, letting her
fingers drift across the coolness and trace around one of the small-carved
crosses.  Her breath came in short heavy gasps and I noticed the slight
trembling in her fingers.  Maya walked over to her and touched her hair softly. 
Kara turned, her back against the wall.  The touch was sensual yet
non-threatening.  Maya looked into her eyes spoke softly,' this intrigues you,
doesn't it?'

Kara nodded weakly and her body shifted against the wall as if she were trying
to slink away from Maya.  Maya continued, sensing Kara's emotions tottering,
"Look at the dais.  Where do you see yourself?  On it?  Or kneeling in front of
it?" 

Kara was off guard.  I looked at her face and knew she was beginning to feel
exposed "please... why do you ask?"  Her eyes looked down at the floor.

"It's a simple question.  I'm just asking", Maya softly spoke and with a finger
raised, she softly touched Kara's face and looked into her eyes.  "Debra's told
me a little bit about you, girl.  Just enough that I think you have a gift to
offer, don't you, Kara, to someone very selective, someone very special who
would appreciate your gift."  Maya continued, her left hand pressing against the
wall and close to Kara's neck.  I saw Kara shudder slightly and try to look away
but Maya leaned further into Kara's space, "I'm interested in your gift, what
you offer, what you represent."

Kara's breath was coming in short gasps now and her breasts rose and fell
rapidly with the labored breathing.  Kara pressed her body tighter against the
coolness of the stone.  Maya drew closer to her until her lips were inches away
from Kara's and spoke softly,  "I want you to think about what I said, girl ...
just think about it.  That's all.  I can help ..."

Kara nodded weakly and broke away from the wall, avoided looking at Maya and
nervously walked toward the door.  I knew where her thoughts drifted, what she
was envisioning.  As I looked at her, I saw a woman now turned to putty.  Maya
looked briefly at me, nodded her head and smiled.  The capture was only a matter
of timing.

Debra paused and glanced at Kara then shifted her gaze into the audience.  " I
could go on, but I think you know the story from here.  Kara did indeed become
engrossed with Maya for a couple of sessions.  It was then that Maya made the
decision to obtain Countess' Sophia's opinion on Kara's suitability.  Perhaps
the friendship between Kara, Maya and I got in the way of what Maya was trying
to accomplish.  I don't know.

There have been bumps in the road that I could not foresee; times I almost wish
I'd left things to their natural course.  But now we are here.  I would only add
that whomever claims her, wherever you take her, please, let me come just once
in awhile and visit her.  Please?"

Debra turned to Kara and spoke with a slight quiver in her voice, "Darling, I
love you.  I thought I was doing what was right.  I honestly tried to.  Don't
hate me..."

From the darkened alcove, the crimson robe with gold trim appeared and gently
took Debra's forearm.  She stood between the two long time friends, effectively
blocking any further eye contact.  With a nod toward the alcove, she motioned a
reluctant Debra toward the darkened alcove.  She hesitated for a moment until
she received a nod from one of the handlers back stage, indicating Debra was now
being escorted back downstairs. 

She returned to the podium and spoke firmly, "The subject is now available for
your instructions and auction.  Proceed."

Forty-Four Hours, Part 11

The house lights were slowly brought to half, then after a pause, raised to
full.  Kara stared into the audience.  Now a different embarrassment swept over
her as she saw the handful of women, some gazing intently on her, some scanning
the file in front of them.  A moment of silence passed, then from the center of
the third row a woman who appeared to be barely 30 shifted her position and
spoke.  Her words caught Kara somewhat by surprise,  "Would you please untie the
subject and remove the posture collar?  I want to see her fully, how she carries
herself when she walks."  A crimson robed figure came forward and removed both
items, while whispering in her ear that she was allowed to rub her wrists.  Kara
gratefully took advantage of the opportunity then turned to her right and slowly
walked across the stage then turned, momentarily facing the audience and walked
back to center stage.  The spotlights followed and illuminated every movement.  

From the end seat on the fifth row, a woman watched silently as the subject
carried out one command after another, some consisting of simply posing, others
bordering on a scintillating perversity.  She brushed the honey colored curls of
her hair away from the freckled face that belied the intensity that roamed
within her.  She observed not only the subject but also the other ten women in
the audience.  She recognized a few but most were strangers to her eyes.  After
all, this was only her second month as a provisional member and her first
auction in the District.  Two days ago, she sat in similar surroundings in
Chicago and made her first purchase, a 31-year-old subject.  Next week she would
be in Miami where she intended to bid on a rarity, a 38-year-old raven-haired
Hispanic woman and her 20-year-old niece, who were being offered as a pair.

As she continued to study the subject before her, she mused at the strange,
almost bizarre turns her life had taken within the past year.  At the age of 43,
she'd resigned her position as director of research with a small but prosperous
biotech firm outside the District.  Years of uncompromising work and intense
dedication to her career field in molecular biology had left her with wealth
beyond her wildest dreams, largely as a result of stock options that had
multiplied profusely.  Shortly after her resignation, she received a call from a
woman who stated she represented an elite women's group.  The call led to a
lunch.  It was there she met Anna.  Though easily in her late fifties, Anna
exuded sensuality, grace and composure one rarely encountered, and yet, a
presence signifying her wisdom, refinement and wealth.  She cautiously broached
the subject of what a wealthy woman in her early forties intended to do with her
life.  The response had been only that she'd purchased a small horse farm with
12 stalls and both indoor and outdoor training arenas nestled in the mountains
of eastern West Virginia.  There she intended to pursue a long time passion of
training and showing horses.  Anna had slipped a business card into her hand
that said simply "The Coterie" and a phone number.  The freckled face recalled
the odd remark ...'If you train horses, then why not women?'  Anna introduced
her to an idea that, at the time, she thought was utterly insane.

Now her attention was diverted back to the stage as the Countess in the gold
trimmed robe announced that bids were to be placed.  Hastily the woman with the
honey colored curls scrawled a six-figured number and her name on the form
provided and slipped it into the envelope.  She got up, walked confidently to
the edge of the stage and dropped the envelope into the silver chalice.  Seven
other women did the same with three choosing to remain silent regarding the
feminine offering on the stage. 

Within moments, she returned to her seat and focused her gaze on the subject who
stood still beneath the glare of the spotlights, her hands clasped behind her
head and her feet shoulder width apart.  The wait seemed an eternity as eight
envelopes were opened and bids recorded and Kara stood still, scarcely
remembering to breathe.  Finally, the alto voice announced, "The winning bid for
Kara belongs to one of our newest members, Countess Roslyn."  

With a sigh of relief, Roslyn brushed the honey colored curls from her face,
rose from her seat, climbed the five steps up to the stage and walked boldly to
what she had purchased.  Eyes met eyes.  Chills raced across Kara's bare flesh. 
In an instant Roslyn's right hand slapped Kara sounded across her left cheek. 
"Never look me in the face!  Do you understand?  In my presence, your eyes will
always be lowered unless told otherwise."  

Kara quickly lowered her eyes and uttered a somewhat distressed "Yes Mistress."

"Furthermore you will address me as Mistress Roslyn until that name is fully
ingrained in your mind.  It will be 'Mistress Roslyn, how may slave please you? 
Mistress Roslyn thank you for beating me!'  Do you understand, slave?"

Kara felt the trembling consume her wondering what species of woman had just
purchase her but somewhere within she spoke again, "yes, Mistress Roslyn."

"Now that we have that straight," Roslyn quickly unsnapped the coteries leash
from the collar and quickly hooked her own black braided leash into the ring,
"on your hands and knees, slave, and let your tongue find my boots."

Kara dropped to her hands and knees.  The feral urges she experienced weeks ago
at Rhonda's feet flashed through her mind, except this time it was not bare feet
that were presented for service, but the soft black leather of Roslyn's boots. 
Instinctively she began by kissing the toe of each boot then letting her tongue
move toward the instep and continue licking up to the ankle then slowly over the
arch.  As she did, the image of what she was doing penetrated her mind ... nude,
on her hands and knees, face against the leather, her ash blonde hair hanging
around her face and brushing against the leather, onstage, uncounted pairs of
eyes watching.  Somehow, none of it seemed to matter.  She felt a passionate
stirring in tummy that transmitted itself down to the core of her sex..  The
urges consumed her.  The experience of the forty-four hours with Sophia seemed
suddenly closer, closer than it had been in the weeks since her return.  The
passion was interrupted by a sharp tug on the leash, jerking her head upward. 
Instinctively she knelt, keeping her eyes focused only on Roslyn's boots.

Roslyn again brushed the honey colored curls away from her face again.  She
turned toward the podium and gave a firm tug on the braided leash.  "At my right
heel, slave. Crawl as I walk." 

Kara complied and followed Countess Roslyn toward the podium.

At the podium, one of the handlers waited.  Roslyn handed her the leash,
whispered something to her and then disappeared back into the audience.  When
she was seated, she pulled out her cell phone and mashed the preprogrammed
number.  "I've purchased her.  She'll be prepared for shipment."

"You've done well.  Your generosity will be rewarded in our organization...I
will keep my end of the bargain." a voice responded.

At the top of the stairs, the woman who was designated as Kara's handler paused
and pulled her charge back against the old brick wall.  Kara glanced down the
stairway and caught sight of another slave being led upward.  The clicking of
chains resonated against the concrete stairs with each step until the slave was
close enough for Kara to fully discern her situation.  The subject was obviously
in more distress, her hair matted around her face, a bit gag pulled sharply
between her teeth.  Kara could see the black leather straps running across the
shoulder and then as the woman passed, the single leather glove laced up her
arms, pinioning them inescapably behind her.  From a ring embedded at the end of
the glove, a thin chrome plated chain dangled and connected to a similar chain
between a pair of ankle cuffs.  The chain slapped against the steps with every
step.  For a brief moment, their eyes met and Kara could see the fiery
determination in the younger woman's eyes.  Glances were exchanged between the
two, one auctioned and one moments away from a similar fate.  Then a tug on
Kara's leash refocused her attention and she stepped slowly down the stairs
behind her handler. 

Kara was led to a long narrow room below the stage that years before had served
as a dressing room for the actors.  The handler hooked the end of the leash to
an overhead pipe and indicated to her charge that she was to remain still. 
Feeling the slight strain on her neck, Kara remained as motionless as possible. 
The handler moved away from her for a moment then returned behind her and
uttered a simple command, "arms behind your back, slave, elbows as close
together as possible, your palms pressed together, thumbs against your waist."

In an almost robotic fashion, Kara moved her arms responding to the handler's
commands until the flat of her palms pressed together.  Arching her back and
thrusting her breasts forward, she drew her elbows closer toward each other
until her arms felt an unnatural strain.  It was only when she felt the leather
sheath quickly slid up along her hands and forearms did she grasp the
consequences of what the handler intended.  The handler wiggled the sheath, the
single leather glove up past the forearms, above the elbows and around her upper
arms.  Then she began lacing, drawing the strings expertly compressing Kara's
arms together behind her back.  Kara muttered an audible gasp yet stifled the
question that raced through her mind of ... why me?  Haven't I complied?  Why am
I being treated as if I were like the unruly woman I passed on the stairs? ... 
But she swallowed her words and left those thoughts unspoken as the laces were
drawn quickly into position until the strange sensations of enslavement rendered
her arms useless.  Then the straps were passed around her shoulder and back to
the buckles on the top of the glove locking the insidious device in place.  The
clinking of chain passed through the ring at the end of the glove then dropped
to the floor was followed by the cuffs snapped around each ankle, leaving her
only about twelve inches of freedom between each foot. 

Still behind her the handler spoke sharply, "Open you mouth, bitch!"  In an
instant, a black leather covered wad was shoved into her mouth and buckled
behind her head.  Now she shook almost uncontrollably and her breasts heaved
rhythmically with her breathing.  As Kara stood trying to recover a woman with
short black hair and piercing blue eyes who seemed incongruous to the others,
neither clad in a crimson robe nor seemingly one who had been in the theatre
walked up to her and began slowly fondling her breasts and toying with her
nipples.

"Nice specimen, who gets her?" was all she said as she continued toying with the
throbbing nipples and pressed a finger down against her sex.  Unseen behind her,
the handler mouthed silently a few syllables eliciting the response, "poor
bitch, guess I'd better leave her property alone then" from the woman who slowly
released her hands from Kara's body.

The handler released the leash from the overhead pipe and led Kara a few steps
to her left, then pushed down on her shoulders, forcing Kara to her knees.  The
leash was removed and a short length of chain replaced the leash.  It was then
that Kara saw directly beneath her head the old ringbolt protruding from the
floor and an open padlock large enough to secure the doors of a warehouse.  The
other end of the short chain was threaded through the padlock and the lock
snapped in place leaving Kara a scant twelve inches of freedom between her
collar and the ringbolt.  She knelt in the fetal position, her breasts were
against her lower thighs, and her body strained uncomfortably, her eyes unable
to discern any movement above the level of the feet that passed by her. 

Like some cowered animal, she remained in this position for an uncounted amount
of time as feet and boots passed by her.  Conversations of things she didn't
understand reached her ears and occasionally remarks about her were spoken as if
she was not there.

Now Kara began to feel the reality of her situation.  There was no ending, no
friend to unlock the door and release her, no flight to catch to return home, no
one with which to speak of her longings nor any counting down of the hours until
forty-four had passed.  Suddenly it was not a game.

Then a pair of brown suede hiking boots appeared at her limited range of vision. 
A hand touched her hair.  Fingers ran softly against the leather straps that
held the gag in place.

"New life from the old, isn't that what I told you weeks ago, bitch?"  The voice
was unmistakably Maya's.  Do not raise your head; make no attempt to do so.  For
this is how it begins, the chains of servitude, the fetal position, the feeling
of being one step above dirt on the floor.  You remember my words, don't you?"

Kara could only nod.  Her drool seeped from the corners of her mouth and
trickled against her knees.

"I've come to see you one last time, to see what you truly look like as the
property you heretofore only dreamed you could be and to witness your
transportation.  You're going to a place that previously only existed in your
mind, but it exists.  Oh yes, believe me, it exists!"

Tears began streaming from Kara's eyes, staining her cheeks.  Her entire body
shook as she sobbed.

Maya knelt beside Kara, her hands caressed her shoulders, and the sides of her
back until one hand slide almost innocently to her right buttock.  From a
satchel around her neck, Maya withdrew a syringe, and then depressed the plunger
until a few drops of clear liquid spurted to the floor.  She spoke quietly,  "Be
very still, girl."  Then with an expert quickness, she sank the needle into
Kara's hip and depressed the plunger until the clear liquid was drained from the
tiny chamber of the syringe, then the needle withdrawn.

To Kara, it was as if she had been stung by a bee and even in her emotional
state realized what was happening.  She tightened her fingers inside the glove,
wanting to somehow fight the release of the liquid into her. 

Maya paused for a moment until the tenseness began to ebb from Kara's body then
unbuckled the gag and remained kneeling beside the slave.  She watched as Kara
opened her mouth and tried to form words.

Kara tried in vain to say something but her words wouldn't leave her lips in an
intelligible form.  She fought the sensation but instantly knew her world was
going dark, that consciousness was leaving her body.  She slumped forward and to
her right against Maya's thigh.  Maya gently guided Kara's head to the floor and
allowed her body to sag unconscious against the old floor.  She quickly checked
her pulse and nodded a gesture of approval.  "She's out.  Get a size 44 crate
and get her ready."

Footsteps hastened around the old dressing room and a 44" long cage was drug
over to the limp unconscious form.  Several pairs of hands lifted Kara over the
shallow 24-inch high sides and gently placed her onto the green foam covering
the bottom of the crate, leaving her still bound and lying on her right side. 
Maya pulled the ash blonde hair away from the nose and mouth of the sleeping
face.  The lid of the cage was swung into place and strapped securely down. 

Maya turned to a woman who waited to one side and looked into the piercing blue
eyes, "you're the one who'll be going with her?"

"Yes."

Maya handed her the satchel.  "There's another syringe in there.  What I gave
her should last about 4 hours.  Take care of her.  She's special."

"I know.  I've already sampled her, the poor wench." 

Maya laughed, "Knowing you, Joan, I'm sure you have, but hands off.  You know
who she's going to?"

"Yeah, and believe me, I won't touch her in that way."  Joan replied. 

Maya smiled then turned to look at Kara one last time... 


Kara stirred and awakened to strange noises, the smell of filtered air, and the
sensation that her environment was unnatural.  Through foggy eyes, she tried to
look around.  How long had she been unconsciousness?  Hours?  Days?  She stirred
again until her feet touched the end of the cage.  The glove that had imprisoned
her arms had been removed but her hands could only weakly move out to touch the
bars of the cage.  Her body felt weak and uncoordinated.  She focused her eyes
until her vision found the black haired woman and muttered, "Where am I?"

Joan looked at her, "you're on a private plane.  We'll be there shortly."

"Be where?"  Kara forced the words out slowly.

"It doesn't matter.  You'll find out eventually."

"I think I need to pee..."

"If you do, then do so."  The foam you're lying on will absorb it.  Here drink
this."  She held a water bottle through the bars to her lips and Kara sucked a
few swallows of water from the tube into her throat until the bottle was
withdrawn.  "Hold still, you'll need one more injection..."

Kara felt the needle prick her left hip.  She was too weak to avoid the hand
holding the flesh of her hip or the injection.  As her mind tried to ascertain
if what she'd spoken was part of a dream or some strange, warped form of
reality, she lapsed into another bout of unconsciousness. 

Moments after she drifted back into her personal darkness, the small jet began
its descent from 41,000 feet.

Morning sunlight filtered through high wispy clouds and found its way through
the small window near the top of the enclosure.  First, the beam of sunlight
found the fresh straw that covered the scrubbed concrete floor of the enclosure. 
Driven by the natural forces of the universe, the beam of sunlight slowly
advanced across the straw until it began its journey over the nude body the
slumbered on the fresh straw, first creeping over her left hip and then slowly
working its way across her upper torso, finally reaching the ash blonde hair
that framed the sleeping face.  She lay on her back and as the sunlight lingered
over her dazed eyes and highlighted the iron collar fastened around her neck. 
The polished iron glistened and the sunbeam highlighted the two iron rings, one
on either side of the collar.  From each of those rings, welded chain wound
across the straw ending at padlocks securing it to similar iron that held each
delicate wrist.  The beam of sunlight captured it all.  Finally, the brightness
and warmth caused the nude slumbering form to stir slowly. 

She shook the cobwebs from her fuzzy brain, her tongue poked at the dryness
inside her mouth.  Before her eyes opened there was the sensation of tenderness,
something different resonating from sensitive parts of her body.  Kara opened
her eyes and brought her hands to shield her eyes from the beam of light. 
Before the thoughts of 'where am I' fully engulfed her consciousness, she felt
the sensitivity, the numb sensation of pain.  She raised her head from the
straw, toward the dull pain.  It was then she saw the gold rings eloquently
adorning her nipples and her labia.  She sank back in the straw.  Her mind
reeled; her breathing intensified.  'My god, what have they done' was all that
flashed through her mind.  She muttered an anguished cry and extended her right
hand towards her nipples but the chain stopped her inches short of touching the
new adornments.  She sat up and leaned forward until her fingers barely touched
the smoothness of the nipple rings.  Her fingers lingered at her nipples
touching the foreign metal and then the sensitivity of her nipples.  She wanted
to touch the similar rings in her labia but knew such efforts were useless. 

In the distance, she heard the creaking of a door opening, or was it shutting. 
Footsteps walking toward her resolved the question ... distant, yet coming
closer.  She refocused her eyes at her surroundings.  A horse stall, yes,
freshly painted, freshly cleaned, but where?  Where was she?  Who approached? 
Her natural instinct was to try to stand and run, but run to where?  And could
she even stand in her still groggy condition?

Boots!  Heeled boots coming closer, every step ... her breathing intensified! 
The beam of sunlight fully captured her ringed nipples, her heaving breasts.  It
was then that she noticed the iron rings around each ankle and the short chain
between the two ankles.  As she stared at her ankles, boots came into her field
of vision.  Something familiar crossed her mind.  She raised her head.  She
gasped!

"Sophia!!"

"Welcome home, bitch!  You didn't think you'd escape me forever, now did you?"

Kara's eyes embraced what stood before her, Sophia in her back leather mini, the
white blouse opened nearly to the waist, her angular face, and the wickedly warm
smile.  Sophia walked over to Kara, knelt and kissed her cheeks.  She placed a
finger under Kara's chin and lifted her face.  Lips languished upon lips until
Sophia broke the kiss.  "They're all here waiting for you, slave.  Well, almost
all.  Annie was shipped back east this morning on the private jet that brought
you here.  She'll become Roslyn's main slave.  Roslyn has great potential in our
organization, but more of that later." 

Sophia paused letting the full effect sink into Kara's awakening consciousness. 
She bent forward and clasped Kara under her armpits until the dazed woman stood
wobbly on her legs for the first time in hours.  "But Jessica and Rhonda are
here, and now I have you.  In a manner of speaking, we all have you..."

Forty-Four Hours, Part 12

Maya waited patiently at the dead end of the narrow lane that ended abruptly in
a forest of evergreens and maples, resplendent in their fall color.  Behind
aviator style sunglasses, her eyes focused on the driveway of Kara's former
home, a brick two-story structure tastefully tucked away on a secluded wooded
one-acre lot some 300 feet west of her vantage point.  She glanced at her watch
... 7:45, probably any minute.

At ten 'til eight that morning, her body tensed slightly and she slowly exhaled. 
The Mercedes backed out of the driveway then proceeded west and made a right
turn at the end of the lane.  Methodically, Maya pulled the pack of Marlboros
off the dashboard and tapped one out of the pack, lit it and waited.  When she'd
finished the cigarette, she pulled thin leather gloves over her hands, gunned
the rented van to life, drove slowly up the lane and pulled into the drive from
which the Mercedes had departed minutes before.  She shoved the Marlboros into
her denim jacket pocket, checked that the list she'd been faxed last night was
in the pocket and walked quickly to the front door.  The door gave way to the
key taken days before from Kara's purse.  Maya quickly shut it behind her,
walked to the alarm box and mashed in the code to prevent any unnecessary
disruption. 

At the same moment, a soft feminine voice called down from the upstairs.  "Is
that you, honey?  Did you forget something?"

Maya froze.  For a moment, she was consciousness of hearing her own heart
beating.  She exhaled slowly ... so hubby hasn't exactly wallowed in pity for
his missing wife, nor did he waste any time getting his squeeze into the marital
bed, she mused silently.

"Is that you, sweetie?"  Footsteps descended the stairs. 

Maya crouched behind the nearest chair in the family room and waited.  Her mind
raced.  There was no turning back! 

The footsteps reached the last step and turned the corner into the family room. 
Again, the cherubic voice called, "Where are you, Sweetie?"

Now Maya's eyes drank in the source of the voice ... a petite blonde, the white
negligee, the tousled hair, the ample breasts and flaring hips.  Then a smile
crept over her face ... can always use another slave ...might as well. 
Confident of the situation she confronted, Maya stood up.

"Who the hell are you?  Get out of my house!"

"Your house?  My ass!"  Maya snapped back!  She surmised the stunned woman,
probably in her late 20's.  The look of complete fear in her youthful face was
all it took.

"I'll call the law!  Get out now!  Or you'll go to jail!"

"I AM THE LAW, BITCH, MY OWN LAW" Maya roared!  "And jail can't even come close
to where I know you're headed!"  Maya lunged like the seasoned lioness she was,
her gloved hand slapping the pretty face, driving her back against the wall.  A
jab to the stomach drove the petite form to the floor, leaving her mouth open
and uselessly begging for air. 

"You fucking little whore!  Bedded down with the old man and she hasn't gone
three days!"  Maya slapped the blonde again then rolled the gasping form over on
her tummy and held her to the floor with her knees.  She drew the blonde's
wrists behind her lower back.  From the hip pocket of her jeans, she withdrew a
pair of cuffs, worked them over each slim wrist and snapped them shut.  Again
her mind raced ... something to gag her with before she gets her breath back ...
Maya's eyes scanned the room finding nothing useful ... then getting off her
prey and sprinting to the kitchen ... opening drawers until she found the one
every kitchen has ... sorting through the myriad of junk ... grabbing the roll
of duct tape.  When the petite blondes mouth had been taped and her ankles
wrapped together, Maya relaxed, reached in to her jacket pocket, withdrew a
Marlboro and lit it.  She took a few puffs, snubbed the remainder out on the
pristine white tile floor inches away from the preys face and then put the butt
in her jeans.

Exhaling, she stood and looked at the face frozen in fear and spoke, "Okay
bitch, don't know about you but I could use a beer."  Maya bent to grab the
taped ankles and drug her prey into the kitchen, letting the negligee slide
unceremoniously up her thighs exposing her slim waist and bare buttocks. 
Leaving the muttering blonde in the middle of the kitchen floor, Maya pulled a
beer from the refrigerator and swallowed the first sip.  "Okay, bitch, now
here's the rules!  I came here to get a few things.  You weren't exactly on the
list but ya know?  You take what you find.  At least I always do."  She took the
toe of her suede hiking boot and pushed the prey over on her back, trapping her
hands underneath her.  The boot pushed the negligee higher to her waist,
exposing the smooth vee at the top of her thighs and causing a series of
mutterings from the taped mouth.  "Nice, bitch!  We'll see that it's used well. 
Hope you weren't too addicted to cock, though.  Not much of that in our
organization."  She snickered at a face that completely failed to comprehend any
of her words.  "Now I'm going to collect what I came for, you're going to lie
right here real still and try to imagine life like you never saw it."  She
tilted the beer again and drank then poured the last few ounces over the face
that looked up at her from the floor.  "Just in case you were thirsty..."

Maya pulled the list from her pocket, noted the location of each item, stepped
over the whimpering form and began her task in earnest.  Within a few minutes,
she walked out the front door with two pillowcases filled, tossed them into the
van and returned to the kitchen.  Pulling her cell phone from her jeans pocket,
she mashed in the number and waited for the voice on the other end.  

"I have everything," she spoke, while gazing down at the wide-eyes, disbelieving
face on the floor.  "And something else, too.  The husband's bimbo was in the
house; I'm bringing her along as well ... yeah ... she's all packaged ... to
Roslyn's?  No, too far out, ... have Shelby meet me at the theatre in an hour
... I don't give a rat's ass what you do with the bimbo after that.  Okay?  I'm
going to do my thing and I'm out of here."


In the late afternoon of the same day and two time zones to the west, Sophia
reclined on the sofa idly swirling the wine, noticing the reflection of the fire
dancing across the wine glass in an almost hypnotic fashion.  A few feathery
wisps of jet-black hair lay against her forehead and framed the aristocratic
features of her face.  Her deep brown eyes examined the images again reflecting
in the wine glass.  The fire in the stone fireplace danced and provided light to
the otherwise unlit room, save for one small lamp at the end of the sofa.  What
natural light remained of a fading rainy day only accentuated the coolness of
the fall air.  Night crept slowly forward and Sophia relished the seclusion of
darkness.

She exhaled softly as she languished on the sofa, her body wrapped snuggly in
the warmth of the green satin robe, her feet extended to the small footstool. 
The glow of the fire warmed them and made her feel snug, comfortable and
completely in touch with her surroundings.  Her gaze shifted from the shimmering
reflection that danced within the goblet to the source of the image itself and
the womanly form outlined by the fire.  The woman was kneeling in front of the
fireplace and positioned between Sophia and the fire so that she fully reflected
the glow that backlit her ash blonde hair and a body glistening with
perspiration. 

Eyes looked back at Sophia, eyes that felt the stare, eyes that reflected the
past three days.

Upon arrival Kara had been taken to one of small outbuildings some distance from
the main house and sequestered in a small room, no more than 10 feet in width by
12 feet in length.  Periodically an unknown female, presumably a slave of some
status, led her outside to walk and attend to her personal needs.  During those
times the piercing in her nipples and labia were examined and cleansed.  Twice a
day she received ample quantities of food and water.  Though nudity was standard
for the slave during the day, blankets were provided for comfort against the
chill of the fall evenings.  But foremost in her reflections was the diabolical
way she was left confined when alone, loosely chained to an old wooden bed in
such a manner that prohibited her hands from reaching her sex and achieving
gratification.  During those confinements, she heard no voices; saw no one, only
reflected.  The routine was broken only once when Jessica appeared and thrust a
pad of paper and pen into her hands.  The instructions seemed strange to Kara
but she wrote what Jessica wanted.  Otherwise, she had been purposefully
ignored.  Late in the afternoon of the third day she had been bathed, a raincoat
hastily thrown around her, led nude to the Suburban, driven some distance though
a pouring rain to what she could only discern as a small cabin.  Now her eyes
riveted on what she saw, the elegance of Sophia, and the lavishness of the room
itself and her own state of total helplessness. 

Sophia's eyes slowly inhaled what she saw.  Kara was nude, and a thick black
leather collar tightly fitted to her neck, with a tag indicating the undeniable
fact that she was property of the Mistress.  A small chain was attached to the
d-ring in front of the collar.  From there two equal lengths of the small
glistening chain were drawn loosely between the rings embedded in each of her
nipples and across the flat tummy, and met at the upper folds of her shaved sex. 
At that point, they were threaded through her labial rings and then snaked their
way across the floor finally ending in Sophia's hand.  Her hands were clasped
together behind her head, fingers interlaced and her elbows in line with her
shoulders.  Her body ached from maintaining that position.

From time to time, Sophia tugged lightly on the two ends of the glistening
chrome chain sending waves of fear and erotic stimulation through Kara's body. 
She continued to toy, to methodically use her accomplished skill, testing the
slave's endurance.

The slave gasped audibly, "Please ... Mistress ...  I ...  I."

Sophia snickered between her teeth and looked directly into the face of the
prize.  "Please what, slave, please stop?  Or please do something harsher?"

Kara silenced her protestations. 

Almost as in another dimension, Sophia spoke, "You might well wonder what
happened to Rikki.  You do remember Rikki don't you?"

Kara nodded and exhaled a weak "yes Ma'am". 

"Rikki displeased me, " Sophia continued, speaking in no particular direction as
her eyes shifted to the rain pelting against the windows.  "  The first time I
gave her fair warning, followed by a thrashing I thought would suffice, but
apparently, I misjudged her inner soul, something I rarely do.  The second time
she failed to please me, I ended up selling her to someone within the Coterie'
who was less caring, more sadistic, shall we say.  You probably don't need to
hear the details.  Jessica is well aware of the situation and perhaps someday
I'll allow her to give you the details."

Sophia's voice trailed off and she turned to her left and now looked
matter-of-factly at Jessica and her alluring form clad in a black corselet and
high heels, her appearance exuding a slight hint of dominance, the way her
auburn hair cascaded down to her shoulders and her brown eyes gazed back at her
own.  "Speaking of Rikki, Jessica, perhaps its time for you to demonstrate to
Kara exactly what loyalty means to me.  I know when she was here before that a
certain fondness developed between the two of you, a certain subliminal passion,
even perhaps a certain degree of trust."  Sophia paused, and sipped her wine. 
Sophia continued, "I could summon Rhonda, I suppose, but that might not get my
point across."  Focusing her eyes once again on Jessica, Sophia concluded her
thoughts.  "Jessica, I wish this woman slave to be beaten.  I will tell you when
I think she's had enough.  I'd like for you to see to it, now." 

Jessica was caught off guard by the remark and exhaled.  She experienced a
momentarily pounding of her own heart within her body, cast a glance at Kara
then back at Sophia; then she spoke, "It would be my pleasure, Mistress."  She
rose, shifted her weight solidly into the black high heels, and walked slowly to
the kneeling slave.  She reached down and pulled the ash blonde hair back.  For
a moment, eyes met eyes recalling the moment of a passionate kiss at the airport
weeks ago.  Then spit flew from Jessica's mouth and into the astonished face of
the slave woman.  Fear clearly radiated from Kara's face and the spittle ran
down her cheek

She reached to the coffee table and took the chain from Sophia's hand.  Grasping
the chain close to the collar, she pulled the protesting woman to her feet. 
Jessica took a length of rope from the bag next to the coffee table and tightly
tied it around the woman's wrists.  As the rope bound her wrists tighter behind
her back, Kara began to moan and an all-to-familiar quivering began to flow
through her body, sending her into subspace.  Jessica continued winding the
rope, crossing the wrists and knotting it.  She took another length of rope,
tied it to the crossed wrists and then tossed the length of rope over the
rafters of the exposed beam ceiling of the secluded cabin.  She removed her
heels and stepped up the top of the coffee table so she could reach the nearest
beam and tied the rope securely, extending Kara's arms upward and away from her
back

Kara's upper body now bent forward at a 45-degree angle to the floor.  Her
breath came in irregular intervals.  Her breasts swayed away from her body and
her back was open and exposed as Jessica traced her fingers down the shivering
spine.

"Lets use a spreader bar, Jessica," Sophia spoke. 

Acknowledging the command, Jessica placed the end of a three four-foot spreader
bar against the back of Kara's left ankle, She took more rope and threaded it
through the eyebolt in the end of the metal bar and wrapped the rope tightly
around the left ankle and cinched it, ensuring the rope bit firmly into the
skin.  Kicking Kara's legs apart, she secured the right ankle in a similar
manner until the slave was roped, spread and displayed for her Mistress. 

Sophia spoke "Look at me Kara, straight into my eyes.  Regardless of what
Jessica will do to you I want to see the expression on your face and I
especially want to see your eyes.  Now speak to me and tell me you understand."

Kara raised her face and despite the dryness in her mouth, she moistened her
lips and spoke, "slave understands, Mistress."

"Before you begin, Jessica, it might be best if you remove the chain from the
rings, we don't want anything interfering."

Jessica again acknowledged the wishes of her mistress, unsnapped the small
chrome chains from the collar, and left them slide free of the rings in her
nipples and labia.  Then returned to the front of Kara and eyed the small
hanging breasts.  She grasped the ringed nipples and rolled them each between
her thumb and forefingers.  Kara grimaced.  The sensation was overwhelming.  Her
face flushed.  Jessica's hands continued and squeezed the breasts and compressed
and squeezed.  Kara shuddered.  It was the first time in three days she'd been
touched sexually and little skyrockets of passion exploded within her body.  Her
eyes only saw Sophia laugh and nod approval.  Jessica paused, picked up the
heavy leather strap and held it in front of Kara's face.  She trembled knowing
what was in store.

The first blows were against her thighs, the strap doubled over and finding the
tender flesh of each.  Jessica repeated the blows until 10 strokes landed on
each inner thigh.  Kara's slim legs danced back and forth and she bit her lip
until it bled, holding back the screams.  For a moment, the pain made her forget
the eye contact with Mistress.

Eyes ... she quickly raised her face again!  She began to feel the strain in the
back of her neck.  The belt moved up her body finding her tummy and lingering,
then striking the soft skin causing Kara to jerk against the ropes and cuffs. 
The belt moved higher, aiming for what Kara knew would be the inevitable.  The
belt exploded against the underside of her right breast and sobs and screams
echoed around the room.  The screams continued and became more intense as the
belt again and again found the tender targets swaying now profusely before
Sophia and Jessica.

"Hold for a minute, Jessica." 

Jessica paused.

Sophia continued, "Remember where your eyes are supposed to be.  I didn't fail
to notice the momentarily lapse.  Your concentration will have to improve.  Now,
were you surprised to see me three days ago, slave?  I want an honest answer and
speak to me in complete sentences.  You're an intelligent woman."

Again moistening her lips, Kara spoke, "yes Mistress I was surprised to see
you."

"Think back to the first night we met at the hotel.  I did not allow you to
refer to yourself in the first person vernacular, did I?"

Kara's face reddened as she reflected.  "No, Mistress, you did not."

"What was the word I told you to use?  Say it for me ... just the word."

Kara blurted out the word, "Kunt." 

"Exactly," Sophia smiled.  "Now tell me again if you were surprised to see me."

By now, the pain at the base of Kara's neck was intensifying and the pressure at
her wrists from the ropes was causing her to loose sensation.  Deep within her
she knew Sophia was toying with her, perhaps testing her endurance, but she had
no alternative.  "Mistress, kunt was surprised to see you three days ago."

Sophia's smile widened.  "Do you know the moment I decided to purchase you, or
shall I say more exactly, the moment I knew that you would be purchased and
returned to me?"

"No, Mistress, kunt does not know."

"It was the moment in the great room that evening, in front of my guests, when
you forgot your nudity and brought me my wine.  There was a look in your eyes,
perhaps unaware to you but not lost on me, that you were offering me a gift, not
just the wine, kunt, but yourself.  It was the way you walked, focused on the
wine and how you presented it to me.  It was then at that very moment; I knew
you were destined to become mine.  I knew no job, no career, no man; nothing was
strong enough to supplant the desire within you.  Does kunt understand?" 

"Yes, Mistress, kunt understands and thanks you for sharing."

"Very good, kunt.  Jessica you may continue."

Jessica moved to the side and aimed for the jiggling buttocks of the woman.  The
blows were harder; more focused here and covered the tender flesh as Kara begged
for mercy.  She lost count at 25 on her ass and shook her head back and forth
begging.  Her tears fell against the hardwood floor.

Sophia rose and walked to the beaten pet and Kara mistook that gesture as a sign
of cessation, but, oh how wrong she was!  Sophia reached around Kara's body,
grabbed the reddened ass cheeks, and separated them.  "She lost eye contact
Jessica.  Her sex, Jessica, and her hole... make her think of me every time she
sits for the next few days.  Perhaps that will help her remember."  The belt
found it's way insidiously inside the crack of her spread ass and landed against
her rectum.  Again and again, the belt connected with the tender flesh and soon
reddened the inner soft skin.  The aim moved to her slit and smacked against the
swollen labia several times.  Kara jerked, swaying in the ropes that restrained
her, shrieking with each blow until she hung limp in Sophia's arms against the
ropes restraining her arms.  Sophia examined the body and ran her fingers over
the tender flesh, tracing her fingers through the countless red welts that now
graced Kara's body. 

"That'll do for now," Sophia snickered, "Untie kunt and bring her over her to
service me".

Kara collapsed on the floor as the spreader bar was removed from her ankles and
the ropes connected her wrists to the beam were untied.  Jessica grabbed Kara's
hair and dragged the slave over to where Sophia again reclined on the sofa. 
"Lick me, slave."  The slave pressed her tear-stained face deeply against the
treasure.  Swirling her tongue against the opening, she sucked and probed until
a wave of telltale passion erupted from Sophia. 

Sophia pushed the slave away, resumed her position on the sofa, and again
extended her feet over the ottoman.  "Pay homage to my feet while I tell you a
story." 

Kara rose to her hands and knees and crawled to the pedicured toes and gently
knelt and kissed each digit, sucking it slowly into her mouth. 

"Earlier today, this morning in fact, someone you and I both know, using the
house keys that were taken from your purse at the theatre, arrived at your
former home and retrieved the items you listed for Jessica on the yellow pad. 
Those items, those bits of antiquity passed to you by your family, those
specific books and classical music cd's you so cherished, are being shipped
here.  They'll be available for you, given to you, only if and when I deem
appropriate.  Continue licking, kunt, you are a good foot servant..."

Kara let her tongue bath the sensitive areas between Mistresses toes and licked
the soft under soles of Sophia's feet.  She moved to the other foot and repeated
the same procedure culminating with her tongue against the soles of the right
foot.

"The memento's of your past were not all that Maya retrieved.  Your scum of a
husband wasted little time in finding someone to fill the emptiness of the
marital bed, someone he undoubtedly knew before you were brought to us.  How you
could have been so blind to his ways is beyond me but it doesn't matter.  Maya
made an on the spot decision, something she is quite good at doing.  She easily
overpowered the tramp and that insipid bitch now belongs to us, not to him. 
She's sequestered until we find a place for her.  She'll be sold as chattel at
some auction in the not too distant future." 

Sophia paused and absorbed the homage to her feet.  "Your see, kunt, this is
more than sex or slavery or control.  Oh yes we have our moments; moments that
enrich our inner desires and at times moments that fill the coffers of our
organization, such as the night you were first here.  But the Coterie is an
organization of another purpose.  There is a structure ... certain women we
chose carefully as we foresee the need.  Arts, law, politics, technology,
medicine, marketing" Sophia looked down at the completely disheveled slave.
""You'll have your tribulations, provide those moments of quiet pleasure, but in
time, you will be used in a different way.  You'll provide your skills for us,
to enrich what we do, just as Annie, just as Jessica, and in time, just as
Rhonda will when she finishes her schooling.  Eventually Jessica will move to
other responsibilities within our organization.  I will need someone to replace
her; that someone could be you.  But understand something; your future depends
on how you progress, how you accept things.  Fail me and you will meet a similar
fate as Rikki; please me, and you'll begin to understand how our organization
works.  Now push the ottoman aside and make yourself into a footstool."

Not quite certain what Mistress commanded Kara positioned herself on all fours
in front of the sofa.

"Very good, kunt, you're learning."  She smiled at Jessica and patted the sofa
beside her, beckoning Jessica to sit next to her.  Jessica sat and extended her
feet to their footstool. 

Sophia slipped her arm around Jessica's shoulder and sipped her wine.  "The
journey has no end, kunt.  Yes, there's a contract for a specific period of
time, but when its over, I don't think you'll want to go back, ever.  Maya says
it best.  I'm not sure of her exact words, but it goes something like this ...
'New life from the old ...' "

Kara exhaled and trembled...   


(Authors note:  This concludes "Forty-Four Hours".  When I began, in my mind
this was a three or four chapter story, then expanded to six or seven chapters
and finally to what I consider a logical conclusion.  Kara may be revisited at a
later date but in a different context.  In the meantime, there are other themes
I may wish to explore. 

I wish to thank the reviewers and those who wrote me directly with your thoughts
as well.  Your comments were most gratifying and encouraging.  I would also like
to thank the Webmaster for maintaining a marvelous site.)

Review This Story || Email Author: Kay

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