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Yes, Mistress

Category: BDMS
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I step into the front room and am struck by the immediate sense of anticipation that surrounds me. The doorman notices that I am not a regular attendee and approaches me with a copy of the house rules. I read over them and wonder if I have gotten myself into more than I can handle. Recognizing my apprehension the doorman asks me if I have any questions. Do I? Well, sure a whole list of them, but who will have the time or the inclination to be my personal informant as to the inner workings of this world without judgment?

In spite of my doubts, I ask if there is possibly someone who could escort me through the labyrinth inside and make sure I don’t accidentally offend anyone or break a house rule in my ignorance.

He said yes and paired me with a 6’5″ man with a shaved head wearing black leather chaps and matching vest toting a wicked looking bullwhip on his hip. Oh, my! Well, I guess if this is part of the initiation, then so be it. I begin reciting a mantra to myself reminding myself that no one can have power over me unless I allow it. I look up into the giant’s face and am dazzled by the intensity of his blue eyes. This man is no villain! He may try to hide behind the façade of leather, but deep down he is a gentle soul whose purpose here is to protect the innocent form harm. He is my guardian for the evening. Gratefully, I smile at the doorman and whisper, “Thank you.” he and the giant exchange a look that was over too quickly for me to comprehend its meaning. I could only hope my instincts were right and that it was not sinister in nature.

Giant led me to the far recesses of the house to where the dungeon awaited. Along the way we passed many people engaged in various aspects of what I had always taught were “sinful pleasures” and not for good little girls like me. Longingly, I wished I had the courage to participate even if just for a moment! Then I remembered one of the house rules, which stated that I am not allowed to participate in any scene unless specifically invited by the Master or Mistress. We neared the back of the house and I began to get nervous. I could feel the almost overpowering energy emanating from the room. I hadn’t realized that my feet had stopped moving until Giant pressed his large hand against my back and gently nudged me forward. I looked up to see Giant’s head above mine and felt his warm body directly behind my own. I bit my bottom lip between my teeth and he slowly stepped aside giving me permission to leave if I so chose. Perhaps it was this reminder that I was here by choice and had the freedom to leave at any point in time that gave me the courage to cross the threshold and enter into a world I had never imagined possible.

People were seated in couches, which were arranged in a semi circle around a large flat cushioned table with an eye-hook at one end of it. I had seen tables similar to these, but I seriously doubted that these people were here to see free demonstrations of the healing benefits of a Reiki massage. I caught myself before the smile at that thought had a chance to pass my lips. As a guest in this home I certainly did not want to offend anyone before I even had a chance to be introduced to the Master of Ceremonies. Giant led me over to a couch and nodded me to be seated comfortably.

As is my habit, I chose to be seated on the floor with my back pressed up against the front of the couch. Giant merely raised an eyebrow and sat behind me with one leg on either side of me. I felt this to be a comforting, protective shell around me and leaned back to thank him for his generosity. Sensing that I was about to break a rule he gently but firmly squeezed his legs around me to silence me. Ah, right, the “No talking in the dungeon unless the Master or Mistress gives permission to do so” rule. Again, grateful to him for thinking of me I pinched his leg to let him know I understood and would try to sit quietly.

Suddenly lights dimmed and a single spotlight shone directly onto the center table where now lay a naked woman face down and chained to the center hook by the straps binding her wrists together. I didn’t remember seeing her being placed there, but I had been distracted by Giant, so I turned my entire focus to the activity in front of me. The woman on the table had several mean looking welts on her fiery looking ass and I wondered if she had broken a house rule. Shuddering, I pinched Giant again to thank him for my near miss earlier and wondered if he was going to think me bold for continuing to pinch him. He merely squeezed me between his strong legs again.

A hush so loud it sounded like a drum roll fell over the room as a woman in an outfit that only Cher could wear as well stepped into the center spotlight. In her hand she held a long piece of what looked like a broken leg from a chair. What in the world is she going to do with that, I wondered. Had I only known the answer to that question would be so immediately forthcoming I would have buried my head into the side of Giant’s leg. As it was, then the woman lifted the cane and struck the chained girl so hard she jumped on the table all I could do was gasp and become frozen in place.

For some reason I was equally as unprepared for the second blow when it came even though I watched the cane rise again and swing down to meet the tender flesh of the chained one. My knee jerk reaction was to run to the chained one and throw myself on top of her body to save her from the cruel tortured inflicted by the cane wielding one. Moving faster than I thought humanly possible, Giant caught me up and hauled me onto his lap pinning me down with his legs and strong arms and covering my mouth with his hand so I would not inadvertently scream out in protest. When the third blow landed it echoed in my skull and I bit down on Giant’s hand until I could taste his blood in my mouth.

Tears streaming down my face I struggled to escape Giant’s hold on me but he merely held me tighter and pressed my face into the side of his neck so I would not have to witness the final strikes of the cane. How could anyone live through such torment? And why would they want to? My mind was numb and my body limp as Giant lifted me in his arms into an adjoining room where he bathed my face with cool water until I recuperated enough to speak again.

“Ask your questions now,” he said. The low rumbling timbre of his voice was as soothing as was the compassion I saw in his eyes.

All I could manage was to croak out, “How? Why? I don’t understand.” He nodded and asked me if understanding was now what had brought me there in the first place. I said yes, but that I hadn’t realized the price I would have to pay for such knowledge.

“Ignorance is bliss,” I mumbled.

Giant shook his head and replied, “Have you ever found the place in yourself where there is no fear or time or space? That place in which only you exist?” I mutely shook my head no. “Ah, well, for those who have found that place it is you, not us, who are to be pitied,” he professed.

“I still don’t understand. Can I speak with her? The injured one? Perhaps she can explain it to me and then I will understand.”

It was his turn to shake his head at me. “She is not yet at a place where she can speak or think clearly. In order to understand her you need not speak with her, you need to become her.” I couldn’t imagine myself willingly sacrificing my body to a cruel tormentor. And yet, the idea of finally experiencing that place of “nothingness and everythingness” intrigued me as well. In a moment of clarity and insight I knew I had to be on that table chained and naked and completely vulnerable in order to understand.

I nodded to Giant and placed my hand into his. I briefly had a chance to notice how smooth his hands were before we were again returning to the room with all the couches and tables. I was still nervous about doing something wrong, but I trusted Giant and he seemed perfectly willing to lead me into this arena. It felt nice to not have to think for myself for once.

We approached Cher’s evil twin and Giant formally presented me to her. Unsure of customary greeting to one so powerful and falling back on my Catholic upbringing I genuflected in front of her. Briefly, I wondered if I would be struck down by lightning for doing so, but then I saw the wicked looking cane in her hands and figured that I had more to fear from her than from the lightning at this moment. I heard Giant’s voice saying, “Mistress, I respectfully bring you this unbroken one to lead as you see fit.”

Mistress looked down at me and said that if I wished to be in her presence I should be naked. Why I thought I could somehow get through his with my clothes on was beyond me. Dutifully I stripped down to my socks. The thought of asking her if I could keep my socks on because my feet get cold made me almost laugh right there until I remembered the list of house rules. Although it did not specifically state that one should not laugh at, or in the presence of, the Mistress, I took it as an assumed rule and quickly swallowed my nervous smile.

Naked now I again dropped to my knees to await the next request. Request? Her voice didn’t lead one to imagine that she was politely requesting — it was a demand plain and simple. And yet, I again remembered the Giant and knew that all I had to do was to say no and u could leave this room. Filled again with a tenuous sense of courage I began to look up to Mistress to ask her what her next request was and then thought better of it figuring that, as Mistress, if she had a request of me she would not need my permission to ask it. So I decided I would remain kneeling on the cold hard floor until Mistress deemed me a worthy conversationalist.

“Rise,” she barked. I rose. She slowly toured my body seemingly taking an inventory of me. “What do you desire above all else?” she asked.

“Merely to please you, my Mistress,” I replied. Where had that come from? Well, I guess it’s true. Perhaps if I do a good enough job of pleasing her she will be gentle with me. She raised her eyebrow at me then glanced at Giant. I was beginning to become suspicious of that eyebrow raise, but wasn’t given much time to ponder its meaning before Mistress took out a small leather cord and began tying my wrists together in front of my body.

When she finished she barked yet another command of me, “Kneel.” I wondered if she even knew how to speak without dictating and why she would have me stand then kneel again when it would have been easier to have me stay kneeling in the first place. Wisely figuring it would be an untimely place to ask, I knelt.

She stepped behind me and raised my face to the far wall which, until now, had lain in darkness. My eyes gazed at the vast array of — what? Tools? Weapons? Toys? My mind grasped onto this last concept since it seemed to fit better than the others did. I imagined the Mistress playing a game of truth or torture and these were her toys. “Go and select one which will give you pleasure and one which will give you pain,” she directed. Pleasure? Hardly! Pain, well, it seemed like any of them could successfully accomplish that goal.

I crawled over to the wall on my hands and knees and gazed up at each toy in turn. I was amazed at the beauty and craftsmanship of each piece. Leather and metal blended together to create a diorama of erotic proportions. Erotic? Where had that thought come from? Knowing I had to make a selection but unaware of exactly how to fulfill Mistress’s request, I silently turned and bowed my head. Hopefully, mom’s house rules applied here as well of, “When in doubt, ask.” A silence of shock filled the room. Who is this young upstart to fail a simple task? “Yes?’ Mistress asked.

“Forgive me, please, Mistress, for although you have many fine tools here, I have never experienced any of them and am unsure as to which one would bring me pleasure and which one would bring me pain.” I hoped she would take pity on me and make my selection for me. No suck luck.

“Perhaps, then, since your education has been so lacking you would wish a taste of them all?” she queried. All? Rapid calculations in my head made me shudder to think that she would actually use them all on me at once. Perhaps she meant one today and one the next time I came. Next time? I didn’t know if I had the courage to do this again, so I figured I might as well make this a memorable experience.

“Yes, Mistress, if it would please you to educate me I would be eternally grateful for your instruction,” I humbly replied. Eternally? Grateful? Well, perhaps I wouldn’t even make it out of here in one piece so eternity might not be that far away.

A collective gasp spread through the crowd seated on the couches and I wondered if I had made a mistake. “Very well, then let us begin,” she said and with that she snapped her fingers and Giant lifted me up into his arms and placed me onto the table and secured my leather bindings to the eye-hook mounted on the table. He looked deeply into my eyes and then pointedly across the room to let me know that he would be within eye sight if I should need him. Gratefully, I pinched his hand, the only part of his body I could reach, for I didn’t dare smile at a time like this.

“Choose a number from 1 to 10 and this is the number you shall receive from each piece upon the wall,” Mistress instructed. Choices? Well, I didn’t want to cheat and say 1, but I definitely knew I couldn’t handle a 10, so I selected my favorite safety number.

“Four, if it would please you, Mistress,” I humbly replied.

“Very well, then let the lesson begin.” With that, she lifted a paddle off the wall. One side of it was made of leather and the other had a soft fur.

She came to me and gently stroked my bare ass with the tickling fur side. It was difficult not to squirm under the surprisingly ticklishness of it. Then she directed, “Count off each one.” and without further preamble struck me with the leather side of the paddle.

“Oh!” I gasped. Then, remembering my directive, I quickly said, “One.” Again and again she struck me with the paddle twice in rapid succession. Barely having time to breathe between each one, I managed to stammer, “T-Two, Three.” I futilely struggled against the restraints. Thanking my guardian for not having chosen the number 8, I anxiously awaited the last and final blow from the paddle.

It came harder than the last three, but I didn’t seem to mind as much now. “Four,” I said in a clear voice. Focusing on the warmth on my buttocks, I failed to notice that Mistress was now wielding a leather crop until the fist blow struck my virginal flesh.

“Yipe! One,” I managed to gasp before I lay my head onto the table.

“Have you learned enough for one day, neonate?” Mistress asked.

Thinking it was very nice of her to give me a way out and still keep my pride, I replied, “Nay, Mistress, please continue, if it would please you.”

The second blow turned my focus onto the sensations of my buttocks and not on the humiliation of being naked and surrounded by strangers and being whipped. “Two,” I murmured. I was surprised to hear the husky quality of my voice as I counted off the next blow, “three.”

“Four,” was almost a moan more so than a voice counting off numbers. I then sensed her leaving my side and could not help but feel isolated and alone until her return. She did not return alone, but carried with her a thickly bound set of crops and in my minds eye I imagined her as Medussa with those being her snakes.

Feeling the leather lick my flesh was almost a relief from the isolation I had felt from her absence. I began counting anew, “One.” Surprisingly, the blow did not hurt as much as I had thought and I surprisingly found myself somewhat disappointed at that revelation. I had come to look forward to the intrusive stinging on my backside. Not knowing how to ask Mistress to increase the pressure of the blow, I did the only thing a naked, prone person bound to a table can do — I raised my hips to meet the next blow.

It worked like magic. Again I felt the comforting kiss of leather as I cried out, “two.” Comforting? I would have never dreamed it to be so. And I didn’t have time to waste perseverating on it because I had to concentrate on remembering what number I was up to in my countdown to eternity.

“Three,” I forced out. Again I arched my back and thrust my hips up to meet the final blow as I cried out, “Four!” I sighed as a sense of prie filled me. Pride for having done what I thought was impossible. There is a strong rush that accompanies that feeling for me and I was filled to almost bursting with that emotion now. I didn’t care what the next tool was going to be, I decided that I would meet and conquer the challenge it posed.

I vaguely heard the whistle of the cat-o-nine tails before it met with the ripe flesh of my ass. “Oh, my, one.” Inadvertently I forgot the rule of not speaking unless spoken to and the words, “thank you, Mistress,” sprang from my lips unbidden my me. Thank you? Oh, yes! Thank you for loving me enough to show me the hidden secrets that can be unlocked by a tenderly placed whip. “Two. Three. Four,” came again in rapid succession.

Again, I heard a whistling sound, but was confused at the different pitch I heard until I felt the first “Crack!” of the bullwhip as it neatly sliced across my now-fiery ass. “One!” I grunted. Gasping for a much needed breath, I sucked in enough air to ready myself for choking out, “Two,” before panting and crying out in agony. I could almost see the pattern Mistress was creating on my ass. It was like a sadistic canvas of flesh and she was the artist laying out the stripes in a criss-cross pattern of blood and welts. Sensing that I was nearing a faint, she paused for a few breaths before laying the final two strips across the center of my ass in an X pattern, mimicking the first two larger ones.

“Three. Four,” I said in a daze.

I felt her approach my head and gently turn my face so it was looking into her eyes. She wiped the tears from my eyes and asked if I wished for her to continue. “You will go to a place you have never been before and although it can be a very frightening place at first, know that you are safe with me.” How could I resist such compassion?

“Yes, Mistress, for I live but to please you,” I whispered

“Ah, you do, little one. Have no fear. You please me well,” she reassured me. The last part was whispered so softly into my ear that none but me heard it. There was no one to witness my sweet surrender to my Mistress. A sudden feeling of omnipotence filled me. I could do anything. That power would be sorely tested as the four blows from the cane would send me soaring into a void of all sensation.

On the count of “One,” I thought I had gone to hell on Earth. I could not move or speak as the agony washed over me in an angry wave of fire. Giant must have seen the shock on my face, for he rushed over to my side and Mistress reached to untie my bonds.

Frantically, I shook my head, no. Gasping for breath, I struggled to say, “Please forgive me yet again, Mistress, for my ignorance. I had no idea the sensations would be quite to intense. I will be more prepared for you next time with your gentle reassurance that I am ok.” Giant stopped moving, but looked searchingly at me. My guardian, I thought. No, I don’t yet want you to rescue me from this place. My eyes reached out to his in an effort to have him understand that it was he who had led me here and my gratitude could only be expressed by remaining here until I was complete. Complete? Yes, I was searching for the completeness that only comes after you have been shattered and made whole again.

I thought of the injured one who had gone before me and knew now that her words could never have made me understand what becoming her had taught me. I felt mistress walking back towards my ass and felt her rest her hand on my back, perhaps in an effort to communicate that I may not arch up to meet these blows for any reason. I felt the excruciating thud of the cane on me and realized how dangerous it would be for me to move in any direction with her wielding that tool. The power in it could break bones if not used properly. Mistress was trying to keep me safe in the only way she knew how and for that I was extremely grateful.

“Two,” I counted and made sure my body remained completely immobile during the onslaught of the next two blows.

“Three,” again brought me into myself to consciously think on what I was feeling. Not just the blow from the cane, but the feeling of every muscle in my body fighting to relax afterwards made me hypersensitive to the final assault.

The word, “Four,” rushed out of my mouth almost independently.

Mistress again came up to the head of the table and released the leather binds from the hook on the tale. Falling to my knees, I could only bow and wait for her invitation to speak. She did not leave me waiting long.

“Yes?’ it sounded like a sensual purr emanating from the base of her soul.

I shivered and managed to look up at her and say, “Thank you Mistress for your patient tutelage of this innocent. If it would please you, I can now fulfill your prior request.” I glanced over to the wall where all of her toys now winked at me and felt a warmth spread through me at the image each one posed.

“You are sure?” she asked.

“I have never been more sure of anything in my life, Mistress,” I replied.

“Very well, then go to the wall and select one which will give you pleasure and one which will give you pain.”

In awe, I crawled over to the wall and selected the flat paddle, remembering its soft caress, and the cat-o-nine tails, remembering its stinging kiss. With my choices in hand, she again led me to the table and this time I lay down upon it myself and allowed her to tie my hands to the hook.

Again she gave me a choice of selecting a number from one to ten, but I knew that would not satiate my sudden greedy craving, so I said nothing. “Well? Speak!” she demanded.

“Mistress, if it would please you to redefine the parameters I am quite sure I could make a better selection for you.”

Puzzled, she said, “Fine, then select from one to fifteen.”

Again, she was met with silence. I felt the crowd hush even more in the silent room. How dare this naive child thwart Mistress a second time!

I felt my hair being yanked smartly from the table by Mistress’s powerful hand as she growled in my ear, “One to twenty, little one, and that is my final offer.”

Her voice sent chills down my spine, but she had finally gotten to where I wanted to select my number. If four is my favorite number, then imagine the possibilities of that number squared! “Sixteen,” I replied. I noticed my voice had wavered a bit, but was still strong enough to be heard clearly.

Perhaps it was to teach me a lesson about being greedy rather than accept what is offered, but it seemed like her first five blows with the paddle were meant to ensure further cooperation by their force. At this point, that was fine by me. I counted off each warming blow and felt my bottom swell with the heat of the friction from the leather. Yes, this is what I had sought for so long. The final blows were met eagerly by my raised ass, which begged Mistress to unleash her strength upon it.

When all 16 blows of the paddle were meted out she did not allow even a moment’s hesitation before beginning the onslaught with the cat. Now my body non only raised up to met each blow, but thrust in rhythm with the cadence of her swings. I felt the cat lick my ass with its sandpaper tongue in a steady figure eight pattern of an odd mixture of pain and pleasure. We got to 14 and I was dripping wet and on the verge of a mind shattering orgasm, but didn’t dare cum without her permission.

Beyond caring about the consequences of the house rules, I begged, “Mistress.”

“Yes, little one, beg for your release,” she purred.

“Please!,” I cried out desperately.

“I grant your release,” she stated but did not strike me with the last two blows of the cat. Instead, she gently ran it down the length of my back and ass so I could feel each of the previous blows from all her toys.

Memories of the paddle, crop, flog, cat, whip, and cane flooded my subconscious and I felt myself hurtling toward the edge of bliss.

As she lay the cat across my flesh the last time, she entreated, “Cum for me, little one.”

I did. How could I possibly deny her? I felt myself shatter into a thousand pieces into a place void of all thoughts, feelings, and emotions. Void of anything but myself. So this was the nirvana Giant was telling me about, I thought in ecstatic wonderment. I felt like I was flying in an abyss of reality. Nothing could harm me while I was here in this place of peace.

I briefly wondered how Mistress was going to piece together the shards of me, but I had complete faith that somehow she would know exactly how to do so. For now I just let myself float freely.

Sometime later I returned from the experience and found myself standing in front of Mistress. She had tears in her eyes. Slowly I realized that everyone in the room was standing and applauding.

Confused, I looked for guidance from Mistress. She, whom I thought I would hate. She, whom I thought was the cruelest of creatures. She, whom I adored.

She handed me a single red rose bud and said, “You were beautiful, little one. Thank you.”

I couldn’t imagine why she would be thanking me. Still numb, I let Giant lead me into the adjoining room again to allow me time to compose myself. I knew that my life would never be the same, for I had discovered the secret of this powerful world. It was not about breaking the spirit of someone. It was about allowing them to find their true inner self. And in order to have complete understanding of oneself, you must first give yourself over to the void of you.

“Thank you, Mistress,” I thought aloud. Thank you. For everything.

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