Sunday, October 19, 2014
Chapter 9: Let the games begin. Cheryl participates in Mistress Margot's games as the sole contender.
I was giving head.
Mistress told me I talked too much, so she had me put my mouth to better use. She leaned back in her chair. One hand was holding a magazine she was reading, with the other she kept pressure on the back of my head. She really didn't need to, since I did not dare stop, but she liked to remind me constantly who was in control.
I was moving my lips back and forth over the strapon, tickling the underside with my tongue. As I slid them up and down, my lips kept tension around the shaft. Tight like a cute little sissy hole, as Mistress had told me.
The penetrator's material left a foul taste in my mouth, and my jaw was getting tired, but it was my knees that were bothering me the most. My outfit squeaked as I shifted my weight from one knee to the other. I heard chain links jingle.
But I was smiling happily as I sucked on the strapon, moving it in and out of my mouth again and again. Every now and then I looked up, trying to catch Mistress' eye and show her how much I was enjoying myself. Occasionally she would look down at me, smile contently, and give me an encouraging little squeeze in my now tender breasts, causing me to moan softly.
Yes, I smiled as I continued humiliating myself. I was very happy that Mistress decided to honour me by putting a dildo in my mouth. Of course I was. Or at least I tried to be. Tried very hard.
As I teased the tip of the penetrator with my lips, I could not stop thinking about the previous night, when Mistress' two maids dragged me of to see her and the 'penalty box'. It had scared the living daylights out of me, and I was going to do anything to prevent her from sending me there.
I felt tired, as I did not get much sleep last night. The fear and dismay was still way too fresh. I was sure I would have made a run for it if I wasn't tied down to my bed. But my movements were restricted to some mere tossing and turning.
I must have fallen asleep at some point during the night, because next thing I knew was Jeanne and Bernadette standing over me, wishing me 'good morning' as they reached out for me. Startled, I tried to evade their grasping hands, but my defiance was short lived when Bernadette grabbed a nipple and twisted it around. I squealed as sharp pain shot through my chest.
“You behave, yes? Or we blindfold you,” the tall maid said. I mumbled a confirmation as I avoided their gaze.
I was hardly awake when they unchained me from the bed. They left the handcuffs on, but locked them behind my back again. Jeanne leaned down and put my three-inch sandals on my feet, closing the straps.
Bernadette linked her arm around my left one, Jeanne did the same on my right, and together they firmly marched me out of my room and towards the bathroom.
“You stand here,” Jeanne spoke as they positioned me in the middle of the bathroom. “Do not move, chéri.”
I tried to be a docile as possible, but when the women pulled my hairnet off and started to dabble with my hair, I felt very uncomfortable.
“C'est encore très bien,” Bernadette said as she plucked at my curly platinum blonde locks. Jeanne sprayed my hair with something that would apparently make it even more vibrant.
“Okay Cheryl, let's get these off you,” Jeanne said as she pulled my panties down.
“Jeanne! What are you doing?” I cried.
“Getting your clothes off, obviously,” she said with a patronizing smile. “We need to get you cleaned up.”
“I can do that myself,” I said loudly.
“Of course you can. You are a big girl, aren't you?” She said mockingly.
“Jeanne, I'm serious! Let go of... Gah!” I groaned as Bernadette twisted my nipple again. Those damned sensitive boobs!
“You be quiet now! Or do you want us to tell Madame Margot?” The tall maid said with a severe tone, looking me straight in the eyes, her nose barely an inch removed from mine. “Want her to take you to the penalty box?”
“...No...” Was all I could utter.
“Very good,” Jeanne said with an unconcerned voice as she pulled my panties down to my ankles. “Would you step out of these, chéri?” After a moment of reluctance, I heard my heels click twice.
Next was my night corset, which Jeanne quickly unlaced. Bernadette lifted my frilly babydoll and pulled it over my head and shoulders. She couldn't remove it completely due to the handcuffs, but left it folded around my wrists. Aside from my heels, I was completely naked. I felt very self-conscious.
Which became a lot worse when the two maids began cleaning me. I felt like a piece of meat as they wetted wash cloths and started to clean my skin from head to toe. I groaned at the indignity of having these women put her hands all over me. I felt tears in my eyes as Bernadette cleaned my privates. Then Jeanne cleaned my face once more, complaining about me soiling my pretty face.
When they were done they dried me with a pair of towels, followed by a liberal application of a range of of health and beauty lotions on my skin. Apparently, you should use a different product for your face than one you use on your legs...
Jeanne inspected my new breast, making sure the attachment was flawless. You could hardly even see where my real skin ended and the fake one began. Finally, completely moisturised and what not, I was ready.
They locked arms with me again, and directed me towards the door.
“Jeanne? Bernadette? What are you doing?” I asked in dismay.
“We are going to the dressing room. Doll you all up,” The raven-haired maid spoke.
“But I'm naked!” I cried.
“Don't worry,” Bernadette said. “It's not cold outside. Besides, you cannot get any smaller than you are now.” Both maids laughed. I felt more like crying as they forced me out in the hallway.
I tried to put up a brave face as I was firmly guided along the corridor. But I was very self-conscious about my nakedness, wearing only heels and handcuffs.
And my fake boobs of course, but they did not count. As completely alien they were, they had also become part of me at the same time. Without a bra, I could feel their awkward bounce as I paced forward.
Every time we turned a corner my heart skipped a beat. I was terrified that Mistress Margot would see me like this. But without encountering anyone, we came to the dressing room and the maids took me inside.
It was a large and old room. I saw furniture that was probably old when my grandparents were young, its heavily varnished wood a deep reddish colour. A massive closet covered most of the opposite wall.
They placed me on a small platform in the centre of the room, warning me not to move, and walked over to the closet.
As they opened the doors, I couldn't believe what I saw. Where the whole room had an air of muted and dignified tradition, the contents of the closet was an explosion of colours, with many different skirts and dresses ranging from demure to very frilly. This must have been Danielle's wardrobe, I surmised.
The maids ignored the dresses hanging there, but after some discussion Jeanne took out the leftmost one of the closed boxes stored on its shelves. She put it on a small table in front of me. Smiling she opened the box and showed me its contents.
My mouth was agape. They could not be serious!
I was to wear a parody of my usual outfits, which is saying something. It was fetish wear made almost completely from a combination of shiny patent leather and latex.
After showing me what to expect, my two escorts first put a white latex bra on me, tight enough for my fake nipples to be prominently displayed. Next came matching panties of the same material, which both woman had to pull hard to get it up my legs. I was horrified to notice that the item had holes in its front and backside.
“You cannot expect your Mistress to have to pull these tight knickers down every time she wants access to you,” Jeanne explained as she guided my privates through the front opening. “Now she can play with your clitty and hole without even touching the material.”
At least they had forgone giving me a plug, albeit the implications of that were unsettling too.
They prepared white stockings of the same material. They unbuckled my sandals and made me step into one, then the other, rolling them up my leg until everything up to eight inches above my knees was covered by the latex. It felt even tighter than my undies, and I could feel the stockings resist against bending my legs.
The heels were next. Lime green pumps with T-straps, that my jailers had secured on my feet with small padlocks. I suffered another indignity when Bernadette, despite my pleas, attached cuffs to my ankles with in between a chain that was hardly a foot-and-a-half long.
Then came the dress, made of patent leather. It too was green, though a bit darker than my heels. It had a very deep décolletée, so my bra and boobs were clearly visible. There was an abundant mockery of frills around the edges of the skirt, cleavage and sleeves. It was short enough to show some skin just above my stockings. Petticoats went underneath to give it a lot of volume. When Jeanne zipped me in, snapping shut another lock to fasten it, I could feel how tight it was around the shoulders.
It immediately became clear why. The sleeves were attached to the sides of the dress, which kept my upper arms against my body tightly, forcing my elbows against my sides. With straps at each sleeve, the maids fastened it even tighter, allowing only my lower arms to move.
“Miss Margot had this made specifically for you,” Jeanne said with a wide grin. “Helps you to keep your hands very ladylike.”
Not that my hands were spared, though. White latex gloves were rolled up my arms just under my elbows, and green leather cuffs were attached around my wrists. Fortunately, my hands were not bound, but the D-rings suggested that could change at any moment.
Then came a white leather waist corset that, to my surprise, went over the dress. I gasped as Bernadette pulled hard on the straps and buckled them tight. I saw the reflection of metal links on the garment, revealing its other function as bondage wear.
The penultimate item was a thick and wide collar that was fastened around my neck, also holding rings, that made turning my head difficult. The finishing touch was hanging a ballgag around my neck as a necklace.
“Just in case,” Jeanne said smirking. “Always good to be prepared.” I heard Bernadette chuckle.
The maids then directed me to a vanity table, where the two women - no way I could do it myself in this outfit - laid my makeup on thick. Literally. Bright and obvious colours. Fiery red lips, a lot of blush, dark eye shadow.
They subjected me to a cloud of strong but feminine perfume, and then were done. My attire squeaked as they got me out of my chair and placed me in front of the full length mirror. I was shocked as I saw the live-sized fetish doll in the mirror.
Almost an hour after entering I minced out of the dressing room, followed closely by the two maids who were sniggering loud enough for me to hear.
“Faster, chéri,” Jeanne urged me in a highly amused tone, poking me with a crop. “Click those heels of yours. Must not keep your Mistress waiting.”
I struggled to obey this order in my absurd attire, which made even the slightest movements awkward. I felt its tightness all over my body, the latex very unfamiliar on my skin. The heels and ankle cuffs reduced my gait to ridiculous short steps. The integrated bonds around my sleeves ensured I could only use my lower arms to keep my balance, forcing me to hold my hands outwards at my sides.
Fortunately Ingrid and Brigitt had been drilling me for two weeks now, so I somehow managed to keep my balance and make my gait look properly sissy-like.
“Très bon, ma chérie,“ Jeanne complimented “You look excellent. You wear your bonds with a grace like they are merely fancy accessories.”
“Oh Jeanne, don't you know girls like her just love being put in chains? To her they really are an accessory,” Bernadette jested.
Aside from making more humorous remarks on my appearance, the maids repeated the 'house rules' Mistress mentioned yesterday. Stay close to Mistress at all times. Otherwise ask her to assign one of the maids as an escort.
I had to entertain Mistress with my submissive and feminine behaviour and pretend as if I had some huge crush on her, so I had to be very affectionate. My speech should be very silly, to properly reflect just what an ignorant little bimbo I was. Any shortcomings would result in punishment, obviously. Possibly even being sent to the penalty box.
They further elaborated on the fact that I was still her guest, not a maid or anything, so I didn't need to clean the house like at Mistress Christina's. However, they suggested that it would certainly amuse Mistress to see me fumble around with a duster.
“As for the rest, well... You'll discover what to do soon enough,” Jeanne said with a mean tone. “I'm sure Madame will make you feel it, one way or the other. Turn left here, Cheryl.”
If that was supposed to scare me, it worked. But I had to concentrate on my hobbled gait so I did not give an outward sign.
They directed me to the other wing of the mansion, where Mistress' private drawing room was located. With every step my ankle chain tingled, my stockings squeaked and my heels clicked.
They walked me up to a door, and Jeanne knocked.
“Yes?” I hear Mistress say.
“Little miss Cheryl is here to see you, Madame,” the maid with the black hair said.
“Send her in.”
She opened the door, and Bernadette gently nudged me forward. I stepped over the threshold.
In a comfortable chair at the left sat my tormentor. Mistress Margot was again dressed in leather, but her attire seemed a bit more casual and comfortable. Yesterday's tight skirt was replaced by a looser and more voluminous one.
I minced up to her, keeping a respectable distance, then bobbed a curtsey. It was much harder with my legs in my stockings and chains.
“Good morning, Mistress,” I said as I tried to smile, hiding my nervousness. “You look wonderful today.” Well, what can I say? She did.
She looked at me with a mixture of radiant glee and wickedness.
“Why, look at you Cheryl!” Mistress said with a smile. “You are quite the sight as well. That is some outfit you are wearing. Leather and latex? You did not strike me as a girl who would like this attire. And the cuffs! Are you are into bondage, my dear?”
I hesitated for a moment. Was I into bondage? She put me in this outfit! Of course I did not say that out loud. The glint in her eyes spoke volumes, and I was not about to be sent to the penalty box. So I took a deep breath and forced myself into character. My outfit squeaked as I struck the pose that Ingrid had taught me the day before.
“Oh yes, Mistress,” I said while giggling like an idiot. “I just love being tied up. It allows my Mistress to do everything she desires to me, with me unable to do anything about it. And I want nothing more than to please my Mistress.“
Her smile grew wider. She knew I was lying, that I was afraid of her. Which was exactly how she liked it. My eyes drifted towards the crop laying across her lap. I giggled, then continued saying what she wanted to hear.
“And my clothes, they are so tight, accentuating my curves wonderfully. I can barely walk in them, but I do not mind because it makes me look very sexy. I really hope my Mistress will notice me as I mince around. I like it if Mistress watches me.” I bent over a bit further, putting more emphasis on my cleavage, then winked at her seductively.
Mistress laughed “Oh my, aren't you a cheeky little lady! Trying to seduce an old woman, sweet-talking like that.“
I brought my hand to my mouth in an expression of feigned shock. “Oh no, Mistress. I would not dare seduce an old woman. You on the other hand...” I puckered my lips.
“Really girl, you have a no shame,” she said with a smirk. “ Your mouth will get you in trouble one of these days. No wonder you carry a gag around your neck. Perhaps I should put it in right now, keep you out of trouble.”
I tried to ignore the fact my mouth was suddenly dry. I giggled instead.“If you are the one who would put it in my mouth, I would be more than happy to accept it, Mistress.”
“But I would not do it myself, my dear. I'm a high-born lady, I would not lower myself to manual labour. I have staff to do that for me.” She spoke amused. I could hear Jeanne and Bernadette snigger close behind me.
That made me feel really uncomfortable. I felt like I was treading on thin ice. One false step and Mistress would sic her maids on me.
“That is okay, Mistress. It would be enough just to know you paid attention to me,” I said.
“Aww, is that so? You simply want attention? Then come here girl. Give your Mistress a kiss. Jeanne? Bernadette? That will be all, thank you.”
I heard the two maids leave the room as I tittered up to Mistress. She did not get out of her chair, simply letting me bend over and give her a kiss on her lips. I felt one hand go around the back of my head and the other to my bra. She pulled me closer as her tongue went into my mouth, while her other hand gently fondled my breasts. I gasped at the touch. I felt myself get excited beneath my skirt.
She let go and leaned back in her chair while I postured myself in my sissy-stance. She looked at me with content. “Well, then I guess there is no harm in letting you frolic around in that attire,” she said with a wicked grin.
After our kiss, she got up from her chair and went about her business. Turned on the TV, while she checked her mail, doing nothing strange.
Which in itself was very strange indeed, and I had no idea what to think about it. She appeared to completely ignore me, save for the fact that her eyes occasionally wandered in my direction.
I saw her frown. She was getting impatient.
Then I understood. I was to not supposed to do what she said – well, I was, but not just that – I was supposed to do sissy stuff without her direction. Letting me frolic around, as she called it so colourfully.
And frolic, I did.
At first I just minced up and down the room, showing of my perfected sissy gait despite my bondage. I did not have to keep my elbows at my side, my outfit did that for me, but I swung my hands slightly and daintily with every step. My ankle chain jingled as I minced to and fro, my behind swaying seductively.
This amused Mistress. For a while, at least. It wasn't long until I saw her holding her crop again as she eyed me. I had to do something else to keep her content. I had to get creative, submerge myself further in my role as infatuated little bimbo.
I saw a spider crawling on the windowsill. It was a common garden spider, brown with some white markings. It wasn't a particularly big one either.
As a child I was always fascinated by spiders. I fearlessly picked them up to have a closer look. Sometimes I would even take them home and show my mother, much to her dismay.
But that was a long time ago. Now it looked like some horrible alien monstrosity, with eight crooked legs and a freakishly large abdomen.
I shrieked in fright.
I startled Mistress. “Cheryl?” I heard her ask. But I did not respond. As fast as my heels and chain would allow, still squealing in disgust, I fled from the beast. I somehow managed to climb a low footstool, balancing precariously as I alternated raising one leg so the spider could not possibly climb up my legs. I pushed my skirt down hard, so my vulnerable clitty was protected from the monster.
“What are you doing up there, girl?” Mistress said sternly, as she walked up to me.
“It's horrible, Mistress!” I wailed. “A spider! There on the windowsill.” I felt I was about to cry as I pointed to the brute, which Mistress probably barely saw as a tiny dark speck on the wood.
“You are afraid of a spider?” She asked incredulously as she walked to the window, fearlessly picking up the vile animal. “This little thing?”
“Please Mistress, get rid of it. It's horrible.” I felt the tears in my eyes. “Save me.”
Mistress smiled widely as she opened the window and with a flick of her wrist threw out the spider. Casually she walked towards me, and I noticed the crop she was holding in her left hand.
She offered me her hand, and gracefully I accepted it.
“You saved me, Mistress,” I said with an excited tone, eyes wide with admiration.
“Of course, my dear. I wouldn't let anything happen to my cute guest. You can come down now.” She tapped my leg with her crop.
As elegantly as possible with the ankle chain, I stepped down.
She was still smiling when I rearranged my dress, regaining my composure after the horrible experience. I felt Mistress' eyes on me, and I shyly avoided her gaze.
I bit my lip and fumbled with my fingers. I inadvertently glanced at her, and she caught me with her eyes. I wiped away a stray lock of hair from my face.
Then I suddenly kissed her on the lips.
I had surprised her; that was clear as she backed up slightly. Heck, I had surprised myself! Mistress quickly regained the initiative though, as she leaned forward, her arms wrapping around me. I could feel her tongue forcefully entering my mouth.
As she kissed me, her hand went to my breast and gently squeezed it. I felt a warm tingle radiate from it. My clitty got excited, touching the soft fabric of my petticoats underneath my skirt. And if I did not know better, it seemed Mistress was excited too. But as she pulled me closer, I knew the hardness I felt under her skirt was actually a strapon.
Without warning she released me and pulled back. “That is enough, Cheryl,” she said with a wicked grin.
I was flustered at the sudden interruption. I must have been very deep in character, because I truly felt disappointed. It must have shown on my face.
“We have all week, my dear. No need to rush.” She pinched my cheek.
I blushed. Not just from being patronized, but also realization when hit me of what just happened. Was I really scared of a spider? And I just voluntarily kissed this dreadful woman! The ease at which I had slipped into character was very concerning.
Not that I broke character though. The rest of the day I was a perfect little bimbo to my Mistress. When she showed me around the estate, I was suitably impressed. I must have sounded like a bunny being shown around the playboy mansion for the first time. I giggled and squealed at the remarkable sights of the old mansion and its large garden. The fact that Mistress would occasionally fondle me beneath my dress exacerbated it.
I asked questions a only toddler would ask. “That wall looks old. I bet it's old. Is it old, Mistress? It will not collapse, I hope.”, “That is a lovely fountain, Mistress. That marble fish looks funny. Isn't it supposed to spew water? Is it turned off?”, “What nice line-up of bronze statues, Mistress. Are they of real people? Important people? Are they family?”, “What a lovely portrait. Is that you, Mistress? How old were you when it was painted?”
She was initially very amused by my exaggerated ignorance, but at some point she sighed and rolled her eyes as she spoke: “Now I understand why you wear that gag around, my dear. You really do talk too much.”
“I am sorry, Mistress,” I answered with a conflicted giggle. “I do not want to talk too much. But I do not want to wear a gag either. Unless you want me to. Then I would love to wear it.”
“No need. I have a better idea to put that motor-mouth of yours to good use,” I couldn't suppress a nervous shudder as she grinned at me.
And shortly after that, I was kneeling in front of her, her strapon in my mouth. My lips running tightly over the length of the dildo while she was reading a magazine. It was a big magazine, and it took her a long time to finish.
After dinner she retired to the salon, and of course I joined her, trying to keep up with her pace despite being hobbled. Sitting on her sofa, drinking a cup of herbal tea, we discussed the various delights of being a sissy. I explained her at length how great it was I could wear uncomfortable and sticky latex underwear, and how I could wear to my heart's content bondage that bound my arms and legs.
At some point, she interrupted my babbling and asked me a question.
“Tell me, Cheryl,” Mistress said. “Are you a boy or a girl?”
I was a bit perplexed by this question, because she already knew the answer. “Neither, Mistress. I am a sissy. I look and dress like a girl, but I can never grow up to be a woman.” I smiled my dutiful smile as I spoke.
“But if you were to choose between the two, you'd be a girl then?”
“Oh yes, Mistress. I have some boyish... features... But I look like a girl, walk like a girl and talk like a girl. So I must be a girl.”
“Well, there is one way to find out for sure,” she said with a wicked smile. She twirled around the crop she had been carrying around all day.
“Mistress?” I asked confused.
Her content smile that she had worn all day was suddenly gone. Her eyes were wicked now. Malicious even. I started to get anxious.
“You see, Cheryl. In my life I've known both men and women. And the differences between the two aren't nearly so obvious as you might imagine.”
She looked me up and down, then smiled mockingly. “Well, perhaps you could imagine it quite well. But there is one thing that invariably separates men from women.”
“Which is, Mistress?” I asked wondering.
She chuckled. “Even at their best men can only orgasm two times in a row. Tops. After which they get soft and ask you if it was the best fuck you've ever had. Then they turn around and fall asleep. Not that I blame them, It's just the way a man works. 'La petite mort', it is called. The little death.”
A dreamy expression came over her face. “But women... Oh, we are blessed with multiple orgasms. We can go on forever.”
She focussed on me again, the wickedness radiating from her face. “So you are saying that a sissy-boy like you is actually a girl? Prove it then! Have more than two orgasms.”
“What? Right now, Mistress?” I asked incredulously.
“Sure, why not.” She tilted her head a bit. “You know what? Let's make this interesting. We are going to make a game out of it. You are to orgasm three times as a sissy. If you do, you win. As your prize I'll allow you to watch TV for an hour without me bothering you. If you lose, we'll spend that time in the penalty box.”
I gasped. A cold shiver went down my spine.
“Any questions? No? Good. Let the game begin,” she said grinning.
I hesitated, unsure what to do. Did she really just ask me to play with myself?
Mistress watched me expectantly, clearly amused by my discomfort.
I took a deep breath and tried to smile. With my hand I reached under my skirt.
Pain shot through my hand. I shrieked as painful heat radiated from the spot where Mistress' crop had hit my skin.
“WHAT do you think you are doing, Cheryl?” She sneered.
I felt tears in my eyes as I rubbed my sore skin. “Mistress? You just told me to...”
“No cheating! You must orgasm as a sissy,” she said severely. “You may play with your little hole, your boobs, your mouth, but do not touch your clitty. That right belongs to your Mistress alone.”
My jaw dropped. She couldn't be serious! I was to come three times in a row without actually touching my privates?
“Well, what are you waiting for? Giving up already?”
“No, Mistress...” I said uncertainly.
“Go on then. If you take too long, you'll forfeit the game.” Her smile was disconcerting.
Slowly, reluctantly, I did as I was told. My hands went up to my breasts, and I began to rub them.
“Good place to start,” Mistress commented with a smug tone.
I gently pinched my nipples and squeezed my breasts through the latex of my bra, the clamps underneath transmitting the feeling to my real chest. I felt something radiate from my bosom. I closed my eyes as I worked, feeling something tingle in my clitty.
And soon my hands began to find their way to other parts of my body. My outfit squeaked as my latex gloves stroked my stockings. Mistress kept close watch, but did not mind me touching the insides of my thighs. I don't know when I put my fingers in my mouth, but I tasted the flavour of the material as I slowly sucked on it. I hear Mistress chuckle.
I did not want to, but I knew it had to be done. When my gloved finger was wet enough, I got on my knees, my torso leaning against the back of the sofa, and my heels sticking out over the cushion, chain dangling slack in between. I lifted my skirt at the back and my finger found the opening at the back of my panties. I gasped as my finger found its mark. Mistress grunted approvingly.
I think I moaned as one hand teased my breasts, the other my behind. I felt how hard my clitty was, the soft material of the petticoat tickling its tip.
I did not notice that Mistress was suddenly behind me. “Do not make a mess, dear,” she said as she reached around me, lifting my skirt. I felt her put something around my clitty; a condom most likely.
At some point my body shuddered as I came. I felt tired as I withdrew from myself.
“That's one down, two to go,” Mistress spoke cheerfully.
The second time was more difficult. I stroked, touched and teased, but using my hands just wasn't enough anymore. My fear of the penalty box was rising.
Mistress laughed at my increasing desperation. “Don't worry, Cheryl. You may use these.”
In my left hand she put a dildo. In my right a vibrator.
What can I say? I used them on both ends. And it worked. Eventually.
“Just one more,” Mistress said grinning.
“Yes Mistress, “ I replied. But I felt tired. Drained. I felt I could no longer lift my toys. I told Mistress.
She raised her left eyebrow. “Are you giving up?” She asked me.
“No Mistress!” I said frightened “I can orgasm again. It's just... I'm just a sissy. I do not... er... have the... strength... yes, the strength to hold my toys for long.”
She smiled. “Nice save, my dear. Tell you what? I will help.”
“You would?” I asked surprised.
She shrugged as she smiled patronizingly. “I never said you couldn't ask me for assistance.” Then her eyes grew stern. “But keep in mind I'm not some man who will just put his cock in you. You will have to tempt me, and then keep me interested.”
I nodded. I took a deep breath and tried to gather whatever energy I had left. Thoughts of the penalty box drifted around in the back of my head, but I ignored them. I forced a smile on my face.
I got on my hands and knees and, in spite of my bonds, I slowly crawled over the cough towards Mistress, smiling lustful and seductively. Mistress return my smile with a voracious one.
“Oh Mistress, you look so strong tonight. So powerful,” I said. “And I am so weak. A weak little sissy. May I feel your power inside me?”
Part of me couldn't believe I was asking this woman to put her strapon in me, but that part was quickly silenced by my desire to avoid the penalty box.
“You want my power, my dear?” She replied. “What would I get in return?”
I crawled up to her. “Anything you can claim, Mistress.” The I kissed her on the lips. This she had anticipated, and her tongue was waiting for me. One of her hands went op to my boobs. The other still held the crop, and she guided its tip beneath my skirt. I shivered as I felt the mean item touch my privates, but she just slowly tickled my clitty with it.
“No. It will be something I'll give you...” She said ominously.
It wasn't easy with my bound arms, but I reached under her leather skirt and lifted its hem, revealing the strapon underneath. I withdrew from her lips and lowered my head.
“Christina taught you very well,” she said as my head went up and down slowly.
I looked up into her eyes, smiling thankfully with the tip of the dildo still in my mouth. Then continued.
I withdrew my mouth, then said: “Mistress, you are so powerful. So long, and so hard...” I quickly put my lips around the penetrator again.
She put her hand on the back of my head. “Cheryl, if I valued your judgement, I would take that dildo out of your mouth,” she admonished, but she didn't sound annoyed.
When the strapon was wet and slick, she pulled my head back and turned me around on the sofa. I was on all fours as she knelt behind me, lifting my skirt and petticoats. I felt her put the tip though the opening of my latex panties, pressing it against my hole.
She applied pressure, my chain jingling as I kicked my legs slightly, and then entered me. She started rocking back and forth, then slowed down.
“I told you to keep me interested, sissy,” she said severely. “Do not just kneel there. Be active.”
I thought about that for a moment. She had impaled me on her strapon. What could I possibly do in this position?
Well, I could humiliate myself further, I concluded. “Mistress, you are so long, and so hard...” I said sweetly.
“Better, but hardly original,” she spoke chuckling, then increased her pace again.
I followed her motions, until one hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me against her. The tip of her crop stroked the side of my face, then went down to my breasts.
She gave my nipple a short but sharp tab, making me yelp. I didn't hurt much, but it startled me. I pulled forward, but Mistress pulled me back again.
The next strike hit my thigh. “Ow! Mistress!” I squealed.
Immediately after, I gasped as she pushed hard, the dildo going in deep. “It is just a love tap, my dear. My price for helping you. Do not fight it,” Mistress said as she pulled back again.
And I didn't. But I did squirm and squeal and kick and groan as she struck me repeatedly. And Mistress loved it, each time rewarding me with a combination of soft touches and deep thrusts.
It was so unreal. She was screwing my little hole with her dildo, hitting me with her crop, her hands all over me. By all rights I should be weeping, but I was getting excited. I felt warmth flow through my body and the pounding of my heart seemed to echo in my mind.
I don't know when I stopped squealing and started spurring on my Mistress.
“Mistress, you are so long! And so hard!” I yelled as she took me from behind. I heard her laugh victoriously.
She kept laughing as she pumped me, and was still laughing as I came.
I was completely drained and barely noticed her removing my condom. She sat me down on her lap, smiling gleefully as she kissed me on the lips. I tried to smile but was too tired to make it look sincere. She looked me in the eyes. “Congratulations, my dear! You've won. You are a girl. I never doubted that even for a moment.”
Mistress was true to her word. She gave me another kiss and turned on the television for me, leaving the room soon after. I was just sitting on the couch, not really looking at the Swiss show that I couldn't understand anyway.
I felt pretty relieved though. I had managed to avoid the penalty box. For now, at least. And I did orgasm more often in one night than I ever had before. Still, Mistress hardly looked surprised at my victory. Or disappointed for that matter. And it was only the first day of a long week...
Jeanne and Bernadette came to collect me exactly one hour later. I was escorted to my room and prepared for bed. They stripped me of my outfit and removed my false breasts and nipple clamps. If I had hoped I could spend the night without them, I was sorely mistaken. After inspecting my real nipples and applying an ointment, the clamps were reattached, and so were the breasts.
After cleaning me up and putting me in my night corset and babydoll, Bernadette tied me down to the bed again. I do not know it was my fatigue or simple resignation with my fate, but I did not resist or complain.
Mistress came to kiss me good night.
“I hope you enjoyed yourself today, Cheryl. I certainly did. Tomorrow will be even better. I promise.” Her smile was frightening.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
Chapter 8: In the lioness' den. Cheryl stays at Miss Rosenberg's estate.
I did not call Mikaela that day. Nor the day after that.
After leaving the shop we dropped off Danielle and Mistress Margot at Miss Daphne's salon, where she had parked her car, and went straight back to Miss Christina's mansion. It was close to dinner time by then. I was to slip into a maid's outfit and resume my duties.
Before I closed my door I checked the hallway left and right, making sure no-one was near. I could not lock my door, since Mistress wanted to be certain she had access to me at all times. I didn't want to be surprised while I handled my clandestine item.
The door clicked as it closed. Actually, it was possible to lock the door, but only from the outside. Mikaela was wrong, I thought. Mistress was quite capable of locking me up in my room. I turned around and walked up to my purse, which I had placed on my vanity table.
I opened the small white bag, and took out the black leather collar I had worn for much of the day. Mistress Christina had told me to put it away, saying it was a filthy second hand item. We had better ones at the mansion. She would have it sent back to the salon first thing in the morning.
I put the collar aside, then unloaded other items: makeup set, my lollipop, lipstick... and then I found it lying on the bottom; a flimsy little scrap of paper. I looked over my shoulder towards the door, double checking nobody was sneaking up on me.
The paper had crumbled into a little paper ball, and I gently unrolled it. I saw the row of numbers in smudged blue ink. Mikaela's handwriting was abysmal, but I could recognize the numbers. I gasped as I looked at it. I was holding my ticket out of here.
I had to be careful though. I was not allowed to call anyone without permission and then only with a very good reason. Even when I was alone I could not just pick up a phone. The women in this house all had cellphones and the only landlines were behind the locked doors of Madame Directrice's office and Mistress' study.
And even if I did manage to contact Mikaela, get her to pick me up, I had to slip away unseen. If anyone managed to catch me... I shuddered.
I put the little piece of paper in the drawer of the vanity mirror, far at the back, out of sight. Ingid occasionally inspected my room. She would probably not notice something like this, but better not take any chances.
I thought about my options. This was not the right moment, I finally decided. I needed time to come up with a plan to make this work. And time was something I did not have right now. I needed to get changed, get into my uniform.
I got out of my lavender polka-dot dress and took off my gloves, but kept the other items, including the corset and that annoying gaff.
I opened my closet and looked at its contents. It was cram-full. A week ago Mistress' daughters had bought me a present: a big box full of outfits, each one more frilly than the last one. And every other day they would show me another dress or two they had bought for me. The number of outfits had already doubled compared to when I first arrived. Perhaps even more.
I selected a bright yellow maid's outfit on the criteria that it matched well with my white heels, wasn't any frillier than most other dresses, but above all because it was easy to reach in the crammed closet.
I put the dress on, fumbling with the zipper on my back when it got stuck, and stepped into the same petticoats I had worn today so the dress flared up prettily. I found a few gloves that weren't that durable, but complemented the yellow of the outfit. I put a white apron over my neck and tied it at the back with a big bow. I checked my hair and makeup, glad to see I didn't have to do anything with it. Daphne's salon certainly delivers quality.
I stepped in front of my full length mirror to inspect my appearance. As my training had continued over the past two weeks, so had the ladies' tolerance for mistakes or flaws diminished. Everything from a unfeminine stance to a crooked seam of a stocking could earn me a black mark, which Madame Directrice would register in a little black notebook.
Once a day I would report to her office. Then Madame Directrice would take out her notebook and give me an appropriate chastisement in order to erase the day's black marks. It often meant receiving a good spanking, but it could also mean being assigned additional training, or forced to do something humiliating. Like when she had me sing 'I'm a little teacup' to improve my voice.
I struck a few feminine and submissive poses that Ingrid had taught me. If you are confused or unsure what to do, she had said, just try to look more girly. Mutter may be strict, but sometimes she's merciful with sissies that look particularly cute.
I shifted from one pose to the next, carefully inspecting my reflection from top to bottom. I couldn't find anything wrong. I was good to go.
I left my room and went down to the kitchen, where Frau Seiler was already making the final preparations on tonight's dinner. With a grumpy command in German she gestured me to prepare the dinner table for Mistress' arrival.
In the stately dining room I cleaned the table, then prepared plates, glasses and cutlery for Mistress and Madame Directrice. Her daughters were out for tonight, so I didn't have to make preparations for them.
I had just lighted the candles on the large varnished wooden table when Mistress entered. I immediately bobbed a respectful curtsey. “Good evening, Mistress. Frau Seiler is about done with dinner. May I get you something to drink?”
“Just some cold water,” she said without even looking at me. I held back her chair as she sat down at the head of the table. She didn't thank me and said nothing when I poured her water. Madame Directrice entered soon after. After pouring her some soda I took position at my serving station in the corner. Frau Seiler brought both ladies their food and they were talking in Italian while they ate. Aside from having me refill their drinks once, they completely ignored me.
Standing still for a long time was tiresome, and I felt my feet ache in my heels. I needed to put more and more concentration in maintaining my proper posture, but could not prevent myself from moving my body a bit.
She startled me when Mistress suddenly turned around, fearing that my movements had disturbed her somehow. I immediately froze when she lay her gaze on me.
“Cheryl, would you come here, please?” Mistress said.
“Of course, Mistress,” I replied as I bobbed a curtsey. I minced up to her right, the traditional serving side.
She leaned back into her chair. “Sit down, please,” she told me. “No, not there, my dear. On my lap.”
“Of course, Mistress.” I answered uncertain. I had no idea what this was about. I sat down slowly, girlishly, my legs together on her left side, my heels just touching the floor. I kept my hands in front of me as I looked at her sideways, but kept my eyes down submissively.
With her left hand she touched my hair, then her fingers went down my back towards my skirt. I shivered as her fingers reached my lower back and went down to further over my tail bone until she reached my sissy-hole.
She frowned. “Where's your plug?” She asked with a stern voice, tilting my chin to force me to look at her.
I explained how this was not my fault. “I'm sorry Mistress. I was not aware I should be wearing one. I was not supposed to have one when going to the salon, and no-one said I had to put one in later, so...”
“Hush, girl,” she said as she silenced me. “Just because I cannot be around all the time to check up on you, does not mean you are off the hook. You are a sissy. My maid. Your everything you do reflects on me. After what happened at the salon, I thought you would have realized that.”
“Yes Mistress,” I said confused. “But I assumed that if no-one...” She interrupted me, shutting me up
“...As such, you are obliged to do your utmost to play the part. And to enjoy it. Even when you are alone. That is a black mark. Would you make a note of that, Ester?”
“Already on it, Christina,” Madame Directrice said as she opened her booklet. She wrote down my transgression with a blue pen.
“I'm sorry Mistress,” I said remorsefully. “I will do better next time.”
“See that you do,” she replied with a severe tone.
I thought that would be it, but she didn't tell me to get off. She just looked at me with an enigmatic expression. She gently stroked my lower back, then sighed.
“Cheryl, Margot has mentioned I've loaned you to her, hasn't she?”
“Yes Mistress,” I said. I could not suppress a shiver. “In exchange for Danielle, she told me.”
She nodded. “Indeed. And the exchange will take place soon.”
“How soon, Mistress?” I couldn't help asking.
She didn't take her eyes off me. “Tomorrow,” she simply said.
I gasped. “Tomorrow? But that is impossible! I'm not ready. I... I... “ I suddenly felt very frightened. I tried to find a good excuse, or any excuse, not to visit the mean woman. “I still have so much to do. I was supposed to vacuum the hallways tomorrow. And I need to help Frau Seiler with scrubbing the pans, and...” I rambled on.
She interrupted me. “Your chores will be suspended for tomorrow. We will use that time you find you a lovely dress to wear and make your appearance immaculate. Ingrid will also give you a refresher on some of the skills you'll most likely need at Margot's.”
I sighed in resignation. “Yes, Mistress.”
She continued talking. “In the afternoon, we will drive up to her mansion and have dinner with her and Danielle. Afterwards, I will go home with her, while you stay at Margot's mansion.”
I closed my eyes. “For how long?” I asked. I forgot to properly address her, but if she even noticed she took no offence.
“One week,” she said.
My eyes shot open. “A week?” I called incredulously. I wanted to say more, but her stern expression silenced me. Then she simply nodded.
“After seven days she'll drop you off here, where we'll have dinner again, after which they'll go home. Until then, Margot will be your Mistress. You are to obey and serve her as diligently as you have me. Is that understood, Cheryl?
“Very good.” She looked to the side pensively. Then looked me straight in the eyes.
“Cheryl, I want you to listen closely,” Mistress told me. “You have to be... Attentive with Margot. She has a particular... Taste. She could not submit Danielle to that, but I believe she is itching to try it out on you.”
I was silent, but my dismay must have been visible on my face.
“You need to be at your very best. Make her appreciate you. Do not antagonize her.” She said cryptically.
“I do not understand, Mistress.” I said.
“Please her,” Mistress said, “or she'll hurt you.”
I must have turned pale. “...Mistress?... I can't... I....” I whimpered. “I'm scared, Mistress.”
She nodded. “I understand, Cheryl. But you must realize that is a good thing. Margot likes it when sissies fear her. So be scared of her. Show her you are afraid.”
“...Yes Mistress.” What else could I say after hearing something like that?
“Good girl,” Mistress said to me. She gave me a soft peck on the lips. It felt gentle and comforting.
She nudged towards my serving station. “You can go back to your position. Let us finish our meal,” She told me.
I got up, bobbed a curtsey, and took my place again. The two ladies continued chatting. In French this time. Mistress did not address me again during dinner. Or the entire evening for that matter.
While I was standing at my station, I softly touched my lips. I could still feel the warmth of Mistress' soft kiss.
The car swayed as it drove up the road. Mistress Christina lived close to the river, so the countryside there was mostly flat. Miss Rosenberg lived in a mansion in the foothills of the mountain the Swiss called 'Alte Mann', and the road towards her place curved left and right as it climbed up the hills.
I was looking down at my boots. They were pink patent leather knee boots with four-and-a-half inch heels. Zippers ran on the inside of their shafts down to the ankle, where straps ran around the circumference.
These boots were a part of the gift from Mistress' daughters I received a week ago. Shortly before that, Martina had questioned me extensively about what I found attractive about girls. I had casually mentioned how it always excited me if girls wear sexy boots.
So of course that was exactly what I received as part of my present.
“You like girls in sexy boots, don't you? Well, now you can be one yourself!” Brigitt had said with a grin.
At the time she had put me in a matching outfit, then made me model it in front of a mirror where I got a good look at the girl with the sexy boots. Brigitt almost doubled over laughing when she saw that my clitty was getting excited by the view.
I turned my right ankle so I saw my heel from the side. It was higher than usual, but Mistress said I'd mostly be sitting down this evening. And it did look very sexy...
I quickly focussed my attention to my surroundings. I was wearing a gaff again, and it is a bad idea let yourself get excited when you do.
Mistress was sitting with me on the back seat. She was wearing a semi-formal power-suit that accentuated her stern expression. She gave me a smile when she saw me looking at her. I wasn't sure if it was meant to be an encouraging gesture, or if she just liked the sight of me in my pink-and-white outfit.
Apparently Mistress Margot very much enjoyed my appearance as a coquette, and had requested I'd be dressed in something similar. My dress was a pink cloud of satin with white frills and bows. My petticoats caused the hem of my dress stand up almost vertically. Thank goodness my panties were not crotchless this time.
It was technically not a maid's outfit – I was not supposed to play the role of maid tonight – but the all the items associated with a maid were merely replaced by suspiciously similar substitutes. The maid's cap was replaced by an ornamental pink rose made of satin that was pinned to my hair, for example. The apron by the white fabric of my blouse that peeked through the lacing in front. The cheap plastic jewellery was swapped with expensive looking gloves and a striking bracelet that matched my chocker.
The curls I had received at the salon still held firm, and my springy hair fell loosely on and over my shoulders, with only a few hairpins keeping it out of my face.
Ingrid had put me through my paces before we left the mansion, making sure my movements and posture were as feminine and submissive as possible.
“Always show weakness in front of Margot,” Ingrid had said. “She will break any signs of strength.”
That did not make me feel much better.
I looked out of the window. The area looked a lot flatter now we had reached the top of the flat hill.
“Almost there, Cheryl.” Mistress said to me. I was starting to get nervous, shifting uncomfortably in my seat as my mind started to imagine things that Mistress Margot might do to me. Not to mention the fact that the plug was very annoying. I wore a surprisingly little one today, but I'd been sitting on it for almost an hour by now.
Still, there was some good news. Mistress had told me to be afraid of Miss Rosenberg. That part would be easy.
I saw the mansion when we finally broke from the cover of the forests surrounding it. It was about the same size as Mistress Christina's, but it looked much older. No white plaster covered the walls, just bare mountain stone. It looked like its walls supported centuries of history and tradition.
We passed the gate that lead towards the main entrance of the mansion, where I saw a symbolic representation of a golden lion against the background of a red mountain. The family heraldry of the Rosenbergs.
Madame Directrice, who was at the wheel, circled a statue of a proud lion and drove us up to the front of the mansion where a maid was waiting. She opened the car door for Mistress when she got out. I then took Mistress' hand as she helped me out of the car, after which she escorted me up the granite stairs to the main entrance. My heels clicked seductively as I daintily minced at Mistress' side. Another maid, remarkably tall, opened the great and ancient wooden front door. As it swung open, it somehow reminded me of the maw of a gargantuan beast that was about to swallow me whole. I saw Miss Rosenberg waiting for us inside, on the far end of the entrance hall.
We walked up to the low platform on which Mistress Margot was standing, stopping a respectful distance away from it. I could hear the great door being closed behind us with a loud thud, after which three pairs of low heels walked towards their assigned places. Madame Directrice and the two maids, no doubt.
Without turning my head, I tried to absorb something of the inside of the mansion. The aura of ancient tradition had clearly penetrated to the inside of the building. Many of the walls were made of the same mountain rock as its exterior, with only the floors in white marble. There was a lot of wood visible, both in the building's construction as well as its furniture, invariably being dark oaken.
The two maids took up position to either side of the platform.
“Miss Rosenberg,” the smaller one called, “may I present to you Miss Christina Jäger and her protégée, Cheryl.”
Protégée? Sounded a lot better than some of my more usual monikers.
“Miss Christina,” the maid continued, “Miss Rosenberg welcomes you heartily in her humble home.”
I was smiling prettily, of course, as was my duty. For a second my smile was genuine though, and I needed to fight back a snigger. 'Humble' home? Really?
Mistress nudged me forward and together we made a couple of steps. I then made a deep curtsey, staying low to the ground. Mistress then made a respectful nod, meant for social equals. Miss Rosenberg answered it with a similar gesture, then signalled me to rise.
Then Mistress Margot laughed. The formal introduction was over and the personal one began. “Christina, you look lovely. Did you have a good journey here?”
Miss Rosenberg stepped of the platform and walked over to us, hugging Mistress. They chatted among one another for a moment until Mistress Margot turned to me. “And who is this lovely creature?” She jested. “Really Cheryl, you seem to look cuter every single time I meet you.” She smiled, but it did not quite hide something voracious.
“Thank you, Mistress Margot. It is lovely to finally see your beautiful home.” To be fair, it was quite a sight. But now that I had seen it, I just wanted to turn around and get the heck out of here. “I am so glad you've invited me.”
“I'm glad you've decided to come,” she said with a pleasant voice, like I had any choice in the matter. “It will be my pleasure to show a lovely girl around my estate.”
“Speaking of lovely girls,” Mistress said as she looked around, “where is Danielle?”
“Oh goodness,” Miss Margot said with a teasing tone, ”I knew I was forgetting something. Jeanne?” She turned to the smaller of the two maids.
“Miss Christina, Cheryl, may I present to you Miss Danielle Rosenberg, first in line and heir to the Rosenberg estate,” the maid called out.
Mistress Margot turned towards a door behind the platform. We all followed her gaze.
We waited for a moment. Noting happened.
I saw the annoyed frown on Mistress Rosenberg's face. She looked at the maid called Jeanne and gave a slight nod towards the door. The maid immediately turned around and opened it, entering the room on the other side.
We waited some more, and then the maid reappeared.
“May I present Miss Danielle Rosenberg,” she called again.
Danielle stepped out of the room. Reluctantly. She slowly walked over to us, her gait very feminine. You could see it did not come natural to her, but she had clearly been practising. She held her head upright, but it must have take her a lot of effort, her blush betraying her desire to curl up in a little ball.
Still, she looked beautiful.
They had dressed Danielle as a teenage princess. She wore a loose white dress that fell over her knees. She wasn't wearing any petticoats, but the cut of the dress gave it some volume. She wore heeled mary-janes with a similar shade of white, as well as lacy ankle socks that matched the wrist gloves on her hands.
And she had a cleavage! Her dress showed her feminine curves and it was cut reasonably high, but just low enough to give a tantalizing view of her boobs, which I could only assume were glued to her chest.
She didn't wear a choker like I did, but there was pretty necklace around her neck, the hanger of which rested just above her breasts. It showed the same gold lion against a red mountain I saw at the gate.
Her hairdo was the same as the one she had received at the salon. Very high, old-fashioned and exactly what Mistress Christina liked. They had further embellished it with jewellery. A silvered tiara was pinned to her hair. I do not think those where diamonds that reflected the light, but it wasn't glass either. Zirconia perhaps.
Her makeup mimicked what she had on yesterday, but a bit more subtle. It still accentuated her youth, but did not hide her natural blush for looking - as far as she was concerned - utterly ridiculous. Her eyes were a bit red as she fought to hold back the tears.
She forced a smile on her face. “Mistress Christina, what a pleasure to see you again,” she said while she bobbed a curtsey. It was a remarkable improvement compared to yesterday, but lacked natural grace. “May I welcome you to our home. I hope you will feel most welcome.”
Mistress accepted the greeting with a smile. “Thank you, Danielle, I'm sure I'll feel right at home. And may I say you look absolutely wonderful today. Your aunt has outdone herself this time.”
She gave a girlish giggle and turned to me, her broken smile still on her face. She bobbed again. “And may I welcome you too, Cheryl. It is always nice to welcome a girl as pretty as you. It is nice to have a frie... fellow sissy over.”
I accepted her welcome with a curtsey of my own. “Thank you, Danielle. I feel very honoured for being here. And I am elated by your wonderful compliment, but I must admit that my appearance pales to yours.” It actually stung a bit to say that last part. Surely I was prettier than her? But it is traditional to mention that the beauty of the lady of the house is unsurpassed.
Mistress Margot chuckled. “Don't be so formal Danielle,” she said. “There guests are our friends. Why don't you welcome them with a nice kiss instead?”
“...Yes, aunt,” she replied.
She bent forward, hands to the sides, and puckered her lips. She wanted to kiss Mistress Christina on the cheek, but at the last moment she turned her head and kissed the girl right on her lips. This startled Danielle, who tried to pull back, but Mistress leaned in herself and stole herself a big wet French kiss.
There was a wide smile on Mistress' face and she pulled back. Miss Rosenberg was clearly amused as well. Danielle looked quite flustered.
“Cheryl too, Danielle,” Mistress Margot then told Danielle. “Kiss her properly. Make her feel welcome.”
“Yes aunt,” she answered disheartened. Like before, she puckered her lips and leaned in to kiss me. I mirrored her movements, striking my well-rehearsed sissy-stance where I keep my knees straight, bottom a bit outward, torso tilted forward to show my ample cleavage, and elbows at my side and hands outward. A perfect picture of submissive femininity as Ingrid had called it.
I turned my cheek to Danielle. She gave it a soft peck.
That was not enough, apparently. “On the lips, my dear,” Mistress Margot told Danielle. “Lovingly.”
“You too, Cheryl,” Mistress Christina told me with a stern expression.
Oh no... She wanted me to kiss a boy, I thought alarmed. Danielle probably thought exactly the same, the dismay showing on her face. We sighed in unison. Let's get this over with...
We leaned in on each other, slowly. Just before our lips touched, we hesitated. We looked each other in the eyes, and I saw confusion and uncertainty in her eyes, something she must have read in mine as well.
Then Danielle made the first move, and put her lips on mine. I felt her part her lips, and I followed suit. Our tongues made contact.
I heard Mistress and Margot whisper to one another as our tongues tickled and probed, each sissy tasting the other. She was warm and gentle, and looked beautiful, I thought. I closed my eyes.
I felt her hand come up to my mine, touching my fingers and then my hand. It felt soft and tender. My heart skipped a beat as it slowly went up my arm. I felt the pressure of my gaff increase...
“THAT is quite enough, dearies.” Mistress Margot called.
That broke the spell. Danielle quickly drew herself back, and as my eyes shot open, I saw her blush furiously. She looked very distressed and humiliated as she realized what we just had done. What we might have done if Mistress Margot had not intervened. I can only assume I must have looked equally shocked and confused as well.
“Aw, sissy love,” Mistress Christina said mockingly. “Don't they make a cute pair?”
“They do,” Miss Rosenberg said with a snigger, “only I cannot help but wonder who in the bedroom would be on top.”
“Well, that is simple,” Mistress chuckled as she spoke. “They would lie down sixty-nine and suck on each other's clitties.”
The two Mistresses laughed together. “Look at that, Christina, you are making the girls blush. Simultaneously!”
Miss Rosenberg coughed as she regained her composure. “But enough pleasantries. It's time for dinner. Let's see what the chef has prepared for us. This way, ladies.”
Just like yesterday, Mistress Margot locked her arm in mine, and escorted me towards the door behind the podium.
Mistress Margot turned to me as we walked past the two maids that had already opened the door for us. “Cheryl, these are my two parlour maids: Jeanne,” She nodded towards the smaller one, with raven-black hair. “And Bernadette.” The other maid was taller than anyone else in the room, over a head longer than I was. Both maids bobbed slightly as we passed, nowhere near as elaborate as I was required to. Their clothes were vaguely recognizable as maid's outfits, but mostly just looked very practical.
We passed the a hallway and entered the dining hall. It was large. Several long tables stood parallel to each other. But Mistress Margot ignored these and escorted my towards a cosy round table that had already been prepared for us, with four elegant candles at its centre. Mistress Margot pulled me a seat, and I muttered a shy 'thank you' as I sat down. Mistress Christina did the same for Danielle.
Mistress Margot sat down to the left of me. So it was official now. By seating me at her right hand, she had made me her protégée, put me under her protection. For the next seven days, I was hers.
Danielle realized the significance as well, nervously looking sideways to Mistress Christina.
The two maids poured us drinks. I got some wine too, even though I did not ask for it. Danielle received soda. Mistress Margot toasted to good health, best friends, and great sissies.
“May they be forever frilly and submissive,” Mistress Christina added. Danielle and I both toasted to that, but neither of us cared particularly much for it.
The appetizers were brought immediately after that, served by the two maids.
As we ate, we casually chattered amongst ourselves. That is to say, our Mistresses had quite a lively conversation. Danielle and I remained silent mostly, trying to avoid attention, but they would drag us into the discussion every now and then.
For my benefit, they mostly spoke English, but occasionally drifted to German. At first I was quite amazed that Danielle could apparently understand them.
“I didn't know you spoke German, Danielle,” I said surprised.
Mistress Margot almost choked on her food. “Don't be silly, Cheryl,” she said in an amused tone. “Of course she does. German is her native language. Her French and Italian are quite inadequate, but I'm glad her English is decent enough.” Danielle just nodded.
The main course consisted of the smallest steak I had ever seen, served with fancy vegetables on a disproportionately large plate. That was one of the things I missed most about the US: T-Bone steaks that completely covered the plate on which they were served. I had been on a constant diet from the moment I entered Mistress Christina's service, and eating a piece of meat bigger than my thumb was rare. Remarkably enough, I was never hungry. Perhaps my tight corsets took away my appetite.
I had just taken a properly small bite, finding that the sauce was very good, when Mistress Margot addressed me.
“Tell me, Cheryl, what do you think?” Mistress Margot asked.
I had no idea what she was talking about. “Apologies Mistress, but what do I think about what?”
“Oh pay attention, girl! It is unbecoming for a young lady to have her thoughts wander off while others talk,” she admonished. “Now, what do you think of sissies who hit women?”
Mistress Christina looked at me with interest, folding her hands in front of her.
“Hit women?” I asked unsure. Where did that come from? “Well, that is just horrible, Mistress. A sissy is sweet, obedient and submissive. She adores real women. It is an abomination for a sissy strike a one.”
“Do you think they should be punished?” she asked me.
“Oh yes, Mistress. Severely.” I wasn't planning to hit a woman anytime soon, so I could just tell her what she wanted to hear.
“How severely?” Mistress Christina asked.
Thought about that for a moment “I would say, spanked with a crop until her bottom turns red. Twenty-five lashes.” That was severe indeed, but anything less would earn me displeasure for sure.
Mistress Margot looked content. She turned towards Danielle, who was looking very miserable right now. “You hear that, Danielle? Even Cheryl thinks you should be punished. Twenty-five strikes, no less.”
I was shocked! Why would they want to spank Danielle? She didn't...
Then I remembered. The disturbance at the salon! Oh, I was so stupid. I had just condemned Danielle!
Danielle looked stricken as Mistress Margot continued. “Hopefully that will be enough to make you to keep your hands to yourself. Be glad I wasn't there when it happened, and that Katherine wasn't particularly impressed. Or else I would have taken you into that room and given you a chastisement that makes Cheryl's suggestion seem mild. That will teach you to strike Miss Katherine.”
“She didn't strike Miss Katherine!” I blurted out.
Three pairs of eyes shot in my direction. My two Mistresses looked at me in surprised annoyance. Danielle looked downright astonished.
Frightfully, I looked down in front of me, avoiding their gazes.
“I beg your pardon?” Mistress Margot said as he focussed her gaze on me.
“I mean...” I stammered. ”Well... She did... Kind of... But she didn't mean to!”
Mistress Margot frowned and Mistress Christina rolled her eyes, but neither said anything.
“Miss Katherine startled her! She just... It was a reflex, I'm sure. It wasn't even a real slap.” I felt my arms flap as I made consolatory gestures. “More like a... A... a push. Danielle just flexed her arm and accidentally....”
Mistress Christina interrupted me. “Cheryl? Honey? Shut. Up,” she said threateningly. I fell silent immediately.
My two mistresses looked at me, than at each other, exchanging thoughts with a look.
“Well, well,” Mistress Christina spoke. “One sissy who can't keep her hand to herself, and another who tells lies. For it is a lie, isn't it, Cheryl?”
I hesitated for a moment. Then nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”
“Thought so.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “Well, young lady, you just bought yourself a world of trouble. Not only did you lie, you also tried to cover up Danielle's crime. Well, if you insist in protecting your little girlfriend, then perhaps you can give her mental support while we punish her. By having you bend over right beside her.”
I gasped. I didn't want to get Danielle into trouble, but I most certainly didn't want a lashing myself. I felt my fork fall out of my hand. I saw Danielle give me a concerned look.
Mistress watched me with a determined and authoritarian expression. But then Mistress Margot spoke soothingly. “Oh Christina, you are being very harsh. This is supposed to be a nice dinner, we must not let this issue spoil it. We can always address it later. And I have no doubt our girls feel very sorry for what they've done, don't you two?”
“Yes Mistress Margot,” I answered. “Yes, aunt.” Danielle said almost simultaneously.
“I thought as much. Come, let's forget it for now. We will not mention it again tonight. As a matter of fact, let's not mention it for the whole week and start off our little holiday with a clean slate.”
Mistress Christina looked at us both, then nodded in agreement.
“Thank you, aunt,” Danielle said. She sounded relieved. She had been spared, at least for now.
“Thank you, Mistress Margot,” I replied. I felt very surprised by this. This seemed remarkable lenient of Mistress Margot. But I was not about to complain.
Our two mistresses immediately changed topics, discussing the wonderful outfits Danielle and me were wearing. After I had described at length the corset I was wearing underneath, I finally got around to making a second bite from my tiny steak.
We were waiting for the dessert when I addressed Mistress Margot.
“Excuse me, Mistress. But I need to powder my nose,” I said. “May I please be excused for a moment?”
She smiled at me. “Of course, dear. Bernadette will show you to the nearest bathroom.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” I said as I got on my heels.
“Actually, aunt, I need to powder my nose too.” Danielle suddenly said. “I'd be happy to show Cheryl the way.”
Mistress Margot looked at her surprised, then shrugged. “Very well, but Bernadette will escort the both of you and make sure you do not get into trouble.”
“Of course, aunt. Would you follow me, Cheryl?” Danielle got up too. “This way please.”
“Danielle? Cheryl here is easily confused,” Mistress Christina said with an amused grin. “I suggest you hold her hand to guide her.”
“...Yes Miss Christina,” Danielle replied. She hesitatingly held out her hand, and just as reluctantly, I took it.
“Off you go, you too,” Mistress Margot chuckled.
Holding hands, we both paced daintily through the door and down the hallway, our heels clicking as we made our tiny steps. Both our skirts swished as our legs scissored back to front. Bernadette walked just behind us.
When we arrived at a bathroom, the maid opened the door for us. Still holding hands, Danielle pulled me inside.
After doing my business (sitting down, obviously) I walked over to the sink. Danielle was already standing there.
She looked concerned. Anxious. I felt a pang of guilt. This must have been a very difficult day for her, and I had managed to make it worse.
I felt the need to apologise. “I'm sorry...” I said.
She quickly put her finger over her mouth, indicating me to be quiet. She opened the water tap, and noisily it started to pour from it.
“Bernadette is listening,” she whispered.
“The maid?” I said surprised.
“Shhh. Lower your voice,” she spoke softly.
She turned to the door. “That is a lovely scent, Cheryl. What is it?” She spoke, but did not look at me, still watching the door.
What was going on here? Danielle turned to me, pointing at the door. I decided to follow her example. “Er... I got it from Miss Daphne's salon. Forgot the name though.”
“Oh, that is unfortunate. It smells wonderful. I'll ask Miss Christina later. Perhaps she'll know.”
She leaned in on my ear. “Beware of Jeanne and Bernadette,” she whispered. “They may look like regular maids, but they are mean. They only obey my aunt, and she has them discipline me if I misbehave or rebel. They have beaten me on occasion. They are her enforcers.”
I looked at her in dismay. I saw the resignation in her face.
“My jailers,” she spoke saddened. Then looked at me, concern in her eyes.
“Your jailers now, I'm sure.”
I just looked at her incredulously. This seemed so unreal. I was a good girl. An obedient sissy. Surely this would not be necessary?
“Want to try some of my lipstick, Cheryl?” She suddenly called out loud.
“What?... Er.. Yes, please,” I answered. “I'd love to.”
Danielle opened her purse, and took out a small tube. She turned to the mirror as she started applying it. I followed her movement.
“Thank you,” I said silently. I didn't know what to think of this, but at least she'd warned me of danger.
“No, thank you,” she replied.
“For what?” I asked surprised.
“For helping me.”
“Helping? I made things worse for you. Twenty-five lashes...” I said remorsefully.
She winced. Then sighed. “At least you tried.”
She handed me the tube. It was a slightly different colour than the one I was wearing now, but close enough.
“We need to go,” Danielle said softly. “Bernadette is probably getting suspicious.”
I nodded. The our eyes crossed. She looked very nervous. Conflicted.
“Wait... Cheryl. One more thing. It is very important.” She was barely audible.
“What is it?”
She looked very concerned. “Don't let her take you to the 'penalty box',” she whispered softly.
“The what?” I replied confused.
She turned towards the door, watching intently, making sure nobody was about to come in, then turned back to me.
“The 'penalty box', that is what aunt calls it. After that night at Christina's, where you entertained my aunt, she started to furnish the old guest room. Workmen arrived, carrying big boxes that she had them take inside. They have been working there for days. She built something in there.” Her voice was frightful.
“Built something? Built what?” I replied.
“I do not know! I'm not allowed anywhere near it and she won't tell me either. I'm not even supposed to mention it. I'd be in deep trouble if I did.”
She looked at me for a moment. There was fear in her eyes.
“I'm scared, Cheryl. Scared to go with Christina. But I'm scared for you too. My aunt has been mentioning you a lot lately, and she gets that evil glint in her eyes whenever she does. She is up to something, and it involves you.”
This deeply unsettled me. I heard myself gasp.
She continued. “Whatever is inside, it's bad, and I think it is for you! Please Cheryl, no matter what you do, do not give my aunt a reason to send you there.” Her eyes almost pleaded with me.
“I won't,” I said. “I promise.” I had no idea how to manage that, but it did seem to comfort Danielle a bit.
She smiled weakly, then turned around.
“Are you ready with my lipstick, Cheryl?” she called out. “Good. Shall we go then?”
She grabbed my hand as she opened the door. Bernadette was still waiting outside. Holding hands we cutely minced back towards the dining hall, with the maid only paces behind us. Dessert was just about to be served when Danielle and I sat down at the table.
After the dessert, we retired to the living room for a cup of tea. Madame Directrice was already waiting there.
After some more chit-chat, it was time for Mistress and Danielle to leave.
“Behave now,” Mistress Christina told me as she kissed me on the cheek.
“I will, Mistress.” I replied.
“Remember that Margot is your Mistress now. Treat her with the respect she is due,” she added.
“Yes Mistress... Christina. Have a pleasant journey home.” I bobbed a curtsey.
“Goodbye Cheryl,” Danielle said to me. We slightly kissed each other on the lips, then simultaneously bobbed. Our Mistresses loved that. Even Madame Directrice laughed.
We didn't see them off to the front door. Mistress Christina just picked up Danielle's jacket and put it over the girl's shoulders, then took her arm and walked to the door. Danielle glanced back at me frightened before she disappeared down the hallway.
I was still standing there, looking at the closed door. I felt Mistress Margot's hand on my shoulder.
“You don't have to stand, my dear. Come sit with me,” I heard her say behind me.
We sat down on a lush sofa, and she pulled me close to her.
“I love your outfit,” she said. “You look so good in pink. The perfect colour for a frilly sissy like you.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” I giggled.
I was scared of this woman. Yet I giggled prettily. What can I say? Mistress had warned me about her. Told me to be attentive. Danielle warned me about that mystery room, and I was going to make sure she wouldn't send me there. So yes, I would be very attentive, be the perfect little sissy tonight.
“Your boots are very nice,” she said. “Did you pick them out yourself?”
“I did, Mistress,” I said smiling. That was a lie actually, Ingrid had selected them for me. “I love boots. They are so sexy! How the leather encases the legs, the shafts pointing to the naughty parts. And are very comfortable, because they hug the ankle.” Well, that was true I suppose.
I continued blabbing. “I always loved girls who wore boots, but secretly I wanted to wear them myself!” I blurted it out before I had realized it. That was just a silly lie too, right? I giggled some more.
At any rate, Mistress Margot was very pleased with my giggling explanation. She stroked the inside of my boot, running her fingers up. “And now you can. They really do look great on you.”
Her hand reached my knees, and she pulled up my legs, laying them over her lap.
I slowly kicked my legs to show them off to my new Mistress. She smiled as she looked at them. Her hand went further up my thigh, under my frilly skirt. I held my breath as her thumb stroked the inside just under my gaff and panties.
I put my arms around her, and started kissing her neck. Her other arm went around me and stoked my breast.
“You feel that, my dear?” She asked me as she pinched my nipple.
“No Mistress,” I answered. “My breasts are not real. I'm sorry about that.”
“Oh, don't be. It is not your fault. But you do not know what you are missing. Would you like to?” She smiled at me.
Well, not really. Her other hand was already probing the edges of my gaff, and those feelings were confusing enough. So I gave the only possible reply: “Oh yes, Mistress. I'd love to know how it feels to have real breasts.”
“There is a trick for that. I'll show you later,” she said grinning. She then put her lips on mine.
As her tongue entered my mouth, I felt her hand go down my panties and probe the gaff. She touched the hard layer, unable to tease my clitty underneath. Her hand went further down my panties, her fingers inching slowly towards my sissy hole.
With her other hand she stroked my tummy, which I felt through the tight corset. Then her hand went upward, fingertips running along my neck. She touched my curly hair, massaging my scalp underneath.
I had closed my eyes by then, feeling her fingers reach my hole. With a circling movement, she stroked around the edge of the plug, circles smaller and smaller until she reached it, increasing pressure on my penetrator.
She withdrew her tongue from me, and just smiled as she put her other hand over my mouth and slowly inserted two fingers. I accepted them without hesitation. Gently sucking and licking as she slid them in deeper.
“Play with your boobies, my dear. Make yourself feel it,” She whispered in my ear. I moaned and I obeyed. I put my hands on my breasts and started to rub and squeeze. Hard enough to feel it on my real chest underneath.
“Keep kicking those lovely legs, dear. That's it. Now open your eyes. Look at your boots Cheryl. The cute girl's boots that you are wearing.”
I did. I saw my legs, kicking prettily. The shiny pink leather encasing my legs. The high heels. My hart started to pound. I felt my clitty get excited immediately. The gaff was getting very uncomfortable.
“That's it, my dear. Keep watching.” She rhythmically started pushing my plug, and moving the fingers in my mouth, gradually increasing the pace.
I moaned as she worked her skills on me. I kicked my legs to her frequency. Slowly and cute. I couldn't take my eyes from my sexy pink boots.
“Some women claim sex is better with the appropriate footwear. I guess that is true for sissies too. Definitely true for you,” she said chuckling.
The pressure on my gaff was intolerable. I wanted to rip if off, but I didn't let go of my boobs. Mistress kept up the rhythm.
And then it was over. I shivered as my body spasmed. I unload myself in my gaff. Moist seeped down my clitty, but not a drop on my panties.
“There we go,” Mistress said smiling as she withdrew her hands.
I felt relaxed and warm. And then the euphoria slowly withdrew, replaced by regret and shame. My boots, that had moments ago seemed to sexy, now looked like they were busy swallowing up my legs. I suddenly felt very conscious about the fact I was in the arms of a woman whom I dreaded. Who had taken something I lusted for and turned it against me. And to top it off my groin felt wet and sticky.
She must have seen the alarm in my face. “Relax my dear. Just enjoy the afterglow.” And with that she kissed me again.
The rest of the evening was shockingly tranquil. Mistress hugged me and fondled me occasionally, but mostly we just chatted. Meaning she would complement me on something feminine, and I would giggle and blush, say just how much I loved it, and kiss or caress her.
To be honest, kissing and caressing her was not all that bad. She was shorter than Mistress Christina, with shoulders that were just a bit broader. Her curves were rounder and though her skin wasn't as smooth, her flesh was softer. One month ago, I could only dream about touching a woman like her in this way. She didn't allow me to go very far though, and didn't touch me as nearly as intimately either.
I had quite gotten in character by then, and when she complemented me about my dress, I really did feel proud. Though the bottle of wine maid Jeanne had brought us probably helped.
All in all, this wasn't anything close to what I had feared when I came here. If anything, Mistress Margot was surprisingly comforting. If I just kept playing my part, this might not be so bad after all.
Eventually she showed me to my room. It was quite early still, but Mistress said that tomorrow she would show me her estate, and I needed to be well rested. I did not complain, for I was glad to finally get that gaff of me and clean myself. There was a bathroom with shower just down the hallway. I could leave my clothes there.
After thoroughly washing myself I slipped into my nightwear. A hairnet to protect my curls during the night. My sleeping corset, a white see-through babydoll and panties that covered my clitty and sissy-bells, but not my ass-cheeks. Brigitt had chosen this one for me.
I put on my sandals with reasonably comfortable three inch heels (only in the most dire of circumstances was I allowed to walk in flats) and closed the ankle straps. I left the bathroom and minced back to my room. I met Jeanne and Bernadette in the hallway.
“Ah Cheryl,” she shorter woman said. “Miss Margot is looking for you. Please come with us.”
“She did?” I asked curiously. “What for?”
“She did not say. This way please.” She gestured with her arm down the hall.
“Shouldn't I dress first?” I asked somewhat confused.
“No time. Now if you don't mind...” She urged me.
I could not refuse of course, so I stepped in the direction the woman pointed to. We walked down the corridor, turned right, and down another one.
“We are not going to the living room?” I asked.
“Miss Margot is not there,” Bernadette said with a thick French accent. The first time I hear her speak all night.
“So where is she?” I tried again.
“Just down that hall and to the right.” Jeanne answered.
I slowed my pace. “I haven't been to this part of the mansion yet. What's over there?”
“Miss Margot, obviously. Who is very anxious to see you,” Jeanne said. I hear Bernadette chuckle.
I stopped and turned my head. “I just saw Mistress Margot half an hour ago.”
Jeanne smiled a non-committal smirk. “And now she wants to see you again. Keep moving, please.”
I stared down the hallway, feeling quite uneasy. “Look I'm a guest of Mistress Margot, and I think I have a right to know what is going on,” I said with a tone that bordered on insolence.
For a moment, the maids were silent, then Jeanne spoke. “As you wish. Bernadette?”
I heard the two maids step closer, and I was about to turn around. Then they grabbed my arms.
“Wha... What's this... Hands off!” I yelled as the two maids held my arms in vice-like grips. I heard the jingling of chains.
“Let me go!” I cried. “What are you doing?” Then I heard a snap and click as something cold wrapped itself around my wrists. I pulled on my hands, but only heard the links of a chain rattle as the handcuffs securely bound my hand behind my back.
The maid still held my arms, and I pulled my weight forward, but couldn't find traction in my heels. Then everything went dark.
I turned my head left and right to get the blindfold off, but it was stuck on my head. I cried and yelled for them to take it off.
Through the darkness I felt a slap against my left cheek, then another on the right side. A hand covered my mouth, muffling me.
“Be silent, girl! Do you want to wake up the whole neighbourhood?” One of the maids said.
I did actually. But I stopped screaming anyway.
“Good. We are now going to see Miss Margot. No more yelling, yes?” I heard Bernadette say as she took her hand off my mouth.
“Yes...” I replied meekly.
Without a further word they hooked their arms around mine, and marched me down the corridor.
After two more turns we stopped. I heard a heavy door being opened. This frightened me, and I wanted to turn and run, but the two maids just dragged me inside, one hand covering my mouth when I tried yelling again.
They sat me down on my knees, and I felt cuffs being closed around my ankles. The cuffs were fixed in place, attached on some vertical pole. A defiant shout was silenced by a hard slap in my face.
They unlocked my handcuffs, but held my wrists tight. They pulled my arms back and into a pair of parallel placed cuffs on the same pole. Some part of the contraption pressed against my back and forced me to stretch myself and push my chest forward.
When the maids were certain I was secure, they undid the blindfold. For a moment I was blinded by light.
When my eyes adjusted, I saw I was inside a room. But unlike any room I've ever seen. I was filled with strange furniture. Most of it I did not recognize, but I did see the various cuffs, chains and straps that would tie down its occupant. I saw pieces that looked like a rack and a pillory, and there was a small cage in one corner
In the centre of the room there was a chair. A throne, really. And on it sat Mistress Margot, who was looking down on me. A malicious smile on her face.
She always had a mean glint in her eyes, but now she looked downright fiendish. She had changed her outfit, wearing a tight leather jacket and skirt, with matching boots and gloves. Her hair was in a ponytail, pulled back tightly against her skull. She was holding a pitch black bull-whip.
“Welcome to the penalty box, my dear sissy Cheryl,” she said with a commandeering voice.
If I wasn't tied down, I would have been frozen in place.
She waved her arm around. “It is a new addition to Villa Rosenberg. Intended for only the most special of guests. You should be honoured.”
Honoured? I was terrified! What was this woman planning? I felt my heart pounding in my chest.
She leaned back into her throne. “I've brought you here to explain something. Starting tomorrow morning, a couple of house rules will come into effect.”
“House rules?” I asked waveringly.
She smirked “Indeed. I have accepted you in my home, and in return you will obey certain rules for the rest of the week.”
I didn't say a word, as overwhelmed my mind was. But Mistress must have seen the question on my face. “The first rule is that you are always to remain in my presence. If for whatever reason this is impossible, Jeanne or Bernadette will watch you. Secondly, while you are in my vicinity, you are to be the most girlish, air-headed and frilly sissy you can possibly be. You are to continuously amuse me with your antics and cute infatuation for me. Failure to do so will result in a penalty. It can be an immediate chastisement, or...” She pointed her hand around the room. “...A time-out here in the penalty box.”
She let that sink in for a moment.
“Do not worry about what to wear tomorrow. I've already selected your outfits for the whole week.” She leaned forward, her eyes showing a voracious hunger. “You will also be happy to know I've decided to keep you in constant bondage.”
I gasped. She couldn't be serious. I was to be tied up constantly?
She leaned against the back of the throne, but her torso remained erect. “Finally, we are going to play a few games over the week.”
“Games? I... I do not... Understand,” I stammered.
Her lips curled up in a smile, but it looked terrible. “Just some friendly sports. I will explain the details in due time, but for now it is enough to know that if you win, I will leave you alone for a certain amount of time. If you lose, we will spend that time together.” She bared her teeth as her smile widened. They looked like ivory daggers. “In here.”
I was tongue tied. I just stared at her.
Still holding the whip, she folded her hands together. “Do you, understand Cheryl?”
I don't think I did, but I nodded slowly.
“Very good. But before Jeanne and Bernadette take you back to your room, I have a present for you. Ladies?” She gestured to the two maids behind me.
They stepped forward and pulled up my babydoll, putting their hands on my chest. I could feel they were rubbing something moist on me. I was too startled to make a sound.
“I promised to show you a trick to experience what it feels like to have real breasts.” Mistress spoke. “Well, here it is.”
My boobs, that have been stuck on me since I entered Miss Christina's service, came loose and with some gentle tugging, one of the maids removed them.
“Hold still,” the other one said.
I felt a sharp pinch in my nipples. My real nipples. I heard myself yelp. I looked down to see what she had done.
I saw clamps affixed around them. I felt the squeezing on my nipples, and a tingling sensation.
Bernadette came up to me with breast forms. New ones. To my disbelief, she was putting glue on them. She couldn't be serious; the clamps were in the way. But then I saw the holes on the inside.
Stunned I saw how she put the hole of the breast form over the nipple clamp, and fixed it in place. She repeated the process with the other. She checked everything was in order, then nodded to Mistress.
Mistress Margot got of her throne, and squatted in front of me. She reached out to my boobs, and pinched one of the nipples.
I gasped as I felt a sharp sting in my chest. I looked up in disbelief.
“The clamps make your chest very sensitive. Every touch the fake breasts experience will feel like the real thing. That is my gift to you. You do not have to thank me. Time enough for that later.” Her eyes showed wicked amusement.
She held out her hand and lifted my chin, forcing me to look her in the eyes.
She tilted her head slightly. “You look frightened, my dear. Terrified even. Is that correct?”
I could only nod.
She hardly blinked as she kept me fixed in her gaze. “And why is that?”
“...I'm afraid... you will hurt me,” I whispered weakly.
She smiled contentedly, stroking my curly hair. “You are quite right to be afraid, my dear. I will hurt you. I will give you pain.”
I felt like fainting, but I couldn't draw my eyes away. Mistress kept petting my head softly. Then she leaned in, her mouth close to my ear.
“But I'll let you in on a secret,” She whispered. “Not all pain is bad.”
Her hand came up like lightning, my face stung as she slapped me. Hard. I heard myself squeal as pain shot through my face. This was too much, I felt I was about to break down. Cry like a little girl. Then mistress grabbed my chin and looked me straight in the eyes, capturing me with her gaze again.
“That is the pain you fear,” she said. “Call it 'bad' pain if you will.”
She let go of my cheek. “When you experience it, your body will release adrenaline. It will tighten your muscles, sharpens your senses and prepare your body for a fight-or-flight response. Sometimes, like in the case of helpless little girls like you, it will paralyse you into a primitive 'play dead' response as your body hopes your assailant will lose interest and ignore you.”
She chuckled. “That will not work with me, of course.”
Her hand went down to my boob again. She pinched the nipple gently, but I felt the sting. And a warmth spreading through my chest.
“Feel that? Do you notice the difference? That is good pain.” Mistress smiled as she spoke. “Now your brain releases endorphins, your body's very own heroin. It will dull your pain, but also soothe your body and let you feel a soft euphoria.”
I felt the warmth spread along my body and into my arms.
She elaborated “Of course, the two are closely linked, partially overlapping, but also complementing each other nicely. Even bad pain has its place. As I said, it sharpens the senses, allowing the sensation of good pain to become much more overwhelming.” She gently stroked my face. “It is really an art form, and I consider myself quite the artiste. You will be my masterpiece.”
She got up and walked back to her throne. She looked truly regal as she sat down.
Her eyes locked on me. “So yes, I will give you pain. You can be sure about that. But it will depend on you if it will be the good variety, or the bad one. Please me, and you will experience highs you cannot imagine right now. Disappoint me, well...” With a subtle movement, she uncoiled the whip and made it snap close to me, making me wince.
“We are done here,” she said. “Jeanne? Bernadette? Please escort the guest of honour back to her room.”
The room darkened as they placed the blindfold again. They unlocked my arms, but put the handcuffs back on. Finally they uncuffed my ankles and helped me on my feet. Meekly I was led down the corridors to my room.
Back in my room they put me in bed, cuffing my hands in front. I felt a collar being put on me, with a short chain attached to the headboard, forcing my head onto the pillow. After removing my heels the maids attached ankle cuffs with a chain looped around the bed frame at the foot end. The chains were slack enough for me to lie reasonably comfortable in bed, but I could not get up.
The blindfold came off and I saw Mistress staring down on me. Her smile was terrible.
“No need to pout, my dear. This was only a dream,” she said. She bent forward and pulled the blankets over me.
She kissed me on the lips. “The nightmare starts tomorrow.”