by D. A. Maddox
“I broke the law,” she said. “I’m guilty. I should be punished. Please … enjoy me, Mistress.”
“How much of you, Cass? Tell me what you’re asking for.”
Cassidy pressed her teeth together, hard. She was shaking all over. Then, she simply let it out. “All of me,” she said. “Every bit.”
Toni leaned in again for another kiss. Cassidy received it, interlaced their fingers. Let herself be tasted. When Toni’s hands wandered to her back, she let herself be touched. When her lips went to the side of her neck, she leaned her head to expose the sensitive flesh.
Her eyes found Veronica, who drank in her submission like wine.
“Why don’t you make her take her clothes off, hm?” she asked, holding up a finger like a child in class who’d suddenly had the best idea and so needed to share it.
Toni pulled back, held Cassidy’s arms out from her body, and regarded her as though considering her options.
Cassidy could only wait—and wonder what was to be done to her.
****
Toni let go of Cassidy’s hands. You were right, Veronica, she thought. You were right about everything.
Poor, innocent freshman Cassidy Harper. The fear was real. She’d been intimidated by Toni from the start, even though Toni had never meant to intimidate. But her excitement, her anticipation and expectation of what was to come, that was also real.
“You don’t need to do a thing,” she said, reaching again for her shoulder strap.
Desperately, reflexively, Cassidy’s hand shot up and met hers there.
Toni gave her a look. “Cassidy…” she warningly said, eyes upturned.
Cassidy’s breath caught a sob. “Yes, Mistress DiFiore,” she said. It was almost a moan. She let the sob go in the same moment she let her arm hang limp again.
Best not to give her too much time to think on it, to contemplate the imminent, loving depredations of a partner who had wanted this for weeks. Quickly, Toni brought the strap down, letting it rest against the side of her arm above the outer elbow, exposing her left breast.
Cassidy, the stubborn thing, at once moved to cover that, but she did not resist when, again, Toni eased her hand away.
Such a lovely breast, bright pink in the nipple and unblemished, neither too large nor too small, heaving, shuddering. Toni cupped it, teased its responsive center with her thumb. Toni leaned in to suck on her.
“Oh … oh, God,” Cassidy said, almost breathless. “This is happening. It’s really happening.”
Toni ran her tongue over it, pressed her lips together over the nipple, drew on it, poking its tip with her tongue, reaching for the other strap.
From not far off, a low chuckling. Veronica—only watching, not operating the cameras. They were in place, and only the one at the foot of the bed lacked an auto-track. The others rose, fell, turned, autofocused, or swiveled on their own.
She eased down the other strap, now suckling one breast after the other, working with her hands wherever her mouth was not at play. Or running them down her sides, gently tickling at her ribs, the top of Cassidy’s hips where the dress still determinedly clung over the sash.
“These are the tits you were afraid for me to see?” she purred, standing back, taking her in.
“Yes, Mistress DiFiore. I was … so frightened. So embarrassed just thinking about it.”
“They’re nice. Hold your arms straight up. Let me have a better look at them.”
Cassidy blinked at her.
“How many so far, Veronica?” Toni asked as matter-of-factly as she could manage, given the dampness of her crotch, the heat in her panties already liquid fire.
“Oh,” Veronica said, as though coming out of a reverie. “Three so far. One for each count of resistance, one more for the hesitation just now. Oh, yeah. Girl’s gonna feel some fucking leather for sure.”
Miserably, with the dress still clinging to her lower half, Cassidy obediently raised her arms. She kept them raised, following with her eyes as Toni circled her, smiling, studying her upper body, admiring her contours. “Lovely,” she said, wrapping an arm about her waist and leading her to the side of the bed.
“Thank you, Mistress.”
Cassidy, Toni thought, you are so fucking hot…
“Crawl onto the bed, dear. Facedown. We’re going to get this first bit of discipline out of the way right now, try to encourage better behavior for the rest of the session.”
Seemingly numb with dread, Cassidy moved to obey.
Veronica cut in, “Mistress is acting in your best interests, Resident Two Hundred. If you agree, tell her ‘Yes, Mistress DiFiore. Good idea, Mistress DiFiore.’ If you disagree, say ‘Yes, Mistress DiFiore. Good idea, Mistress DiFiore’.”
Cassidy obeyed, forcing the words through trembling lips, climbing onto the bed on all fours, bottoming out on her face and belly as instructed.
Wow, Toni thought. That Veronica, she knows all of the buttons, doesn’t she?
But this next part Toni remembered quite well herself. Quick, tight, and strong had been the adjectives. Together they converged on her, Veronica from the left, Toni from the right. Gently but inexorably they stretched her arms out to the steel manacles encased in fluffy, pink frills, cuffing her to the bedposts. Cassidy propped her chin up on a pillow, saying nothing, her back rising and falling in mountains of dread, valleys of surrender.
Then she wailed, a mid-pitch keening rich with inevitability, as Toni and Veronica gripped her dress by the hips and drew it down, tossing the sash aside to bare her buttocks.
Down her legs and off, leaving her completely naked.
They took her ankles. Cuffed them.
Toni knelt by the side of the bed, reached out. “This is the butt you wanted to keep secret from me?” she asked, trailing all four fingers down the crease.
Cassidy buried her face in the pillow. “Yes, Mistress DiFiore,” she managed, muffled but decipherable.
“Such a nice butt,” she said. “So perky. This must be like a nightmare for you.”
“Yes.”
“But you’re enjoying the nightmare, aren’t you?”
“I … I think so, Mistress DiFiore…”
Veronica went to the small rack of playthings while Toni squeezed a tensed shoulder, trying to coax it loose, then ran a knuckle slowly down her spine. Shortly, Veronica took three items to the side of the bed.
“Pick one,” she said. “Oh, don’t look so tormented, silly. Not yet. I know you can’t point. From left to right, pick one, two, or three. Whichever you pick, it’ll be three swats. You’ll feel it, but you’ll still be able to roll over for the good part. Don’t you worry, pussycat.”
Left to right, they were a hand-whipper with nine tails, a triple belt affixed to a leather handgrip, and what looked suspiciously like a gosh-darned cattle prod.
Toni unclipped a pinwheeled spike roller from her belt. “And she won’t be punishing this perfect thing,” Toni said, patting Cassidy’s defenseless rear end. “I just wanted to see it—to see all of your secret places. Touch them. Enjoy them, like you said.” With the gentlest possible pressure, she set the small, steel roller spikes just under Cassidy’s right shoulder blade, exactly as she had been told.
Cassidy gasped. Then, when Toni started rolling the wheel—hardly touching, she’d promised not to hurt her—Cassidy’s legs shook, her arms jerked, and from her mouth a low, ongoing wail of unexpected, anguished discovery: “Ahh! Ah—haaaaah…”
“This is where you will be disciplined,” Toni said, exploring her back. She watched the muscles twitch and vibrate like a rippling river, all without the spikes even leaving a trail. With her free hand, she again sought out Cassidy’s. “Are you ready, honey? Shall we have this part over with?”
“Number one, please,” Cassidy said. Then, hitching breath, squeezing Toni’s hand in return, seeking comfort, “And … let it be you, Mistress DiFiore. Please. Let it be you.”
“Humph,” Veronica said, eyebrows scrunched. But then sh
e stood back, arms crossed with all three of her implements still in hand. “Well, I guess it’s not that I don’t understand. What do you say, Antoinette? Are you ready to level up? ’Cause this randy bitch sure is.”
Toni leaned down to kiss tears from the defeated girl’s cheek. “Do you mean it, Cassidy? Really? You trust me enough?”
Cassidy blinked at her, nodded. Little feline gasps of distress, no words.
“Thank you, Cassidy,” she said, stroking her cheek. “You just made my night.”
****
A few silent seconds. Cassidy lay still, utterly exposed, conscious of her open sex seeping for the camera at the foot of the bed, still tingling all over her back from the pinwheel spike roller. At the side of the bed, Miss Ronnie had taken on the role of impromptu tutor.
“Our poor Cass chose the cat of nine tails,” she said. “It won’t draw blood no matter how hard you swing it—the tresses are too thick at the base, too flimsy at the end—so no need to worry about that. But she’ll feel every one of them.” Here, Miss Ronnie started doing a little two-finger hand walk up and down Cassidy’s back. “Do it like I show you, aiming here, and here, and here…”
Hard pokes each time, fingernails leaving a mark. Cassidy whimpered but said nothing.
“…and she will make noise. Oh, yes. Cass is going to sing for us in a moment. But…”
Meaningful pause. Four fingers and a thumb pressed down on her like a five-legged spider with sharpened fingernails for toe pinchers. Cassidy moaned. They ignored her.
“You go seventy-five percent force, not a hundred. The boss’ll skin us both if you overdo it. Got me?”
“I’ve got ya, Veronica,” Toni said, and Cassidy could hear the wicked grin on her face, if that was possible. “I’ve got ya.”
Just do it, Cassidy thought, her arms and legs struggling uselessly against their bonds, trying to pull inward on herself under Miss Ronnie’s touch. Can’t you see I’m suffering?
She couldn’t even wipe her face.
Then, Miss Ronnie spoke to Cassidy directly. “Turn your head and look into the eye of the camera by the side of the bed, pet. Let everyone at home see how you feel. Let them feel it with you.”
Cassidy obeyed, resting her cheek against the pillow, looking into the reflective black of the camera eye. Behind it, she could imagine people she knew watching her—her sister, perhaps, or her sister’s friends. Their parents. Older boys around the neighborhood, store clerks, that creepy guy at the gas station. No doubt they were riveted.
In her mind’s eye, she saw the flaxen-haired older boy who had invited her to prom but gotten no further with her than that. What had his name been again? Torbin? Toby?
Toby, yeah. That’s it.
She imagined him being given special permission to watch. There he was, sliding off of his chair and onto his knees in front of the TV, staring at her, unblinking.
And the redheaded girl from her earlier school years—Tabitha, of the cute little freckles—now grown to womanhood, studying her from her computer desk. Her eyes narrowed to glassy, excited slits. She was smiling. She had her hand up her skirt. She fingered herself, pleasured herself at Cassidy’s expense.
It wasn’t that much of a stretch.
All over America, this is really happening. People are watching me and getting off.
So dreadful. So sexy. Cassidy wept, wishing she could touch herself.
“I’m more a fan of the tawse, myself,” Miss Ronnie continued. “More of a concentrated sting, less effort. With the cat, you want an around-the-back windmill swing, like this…”
Cassidy listened to it cut the air. Oh, my God, she thought, mouth wide with terror, that’s too hard. I can’t take it.
“Go on. Give it a test swing. I’ll let you know if you’re too hot or too cold.”
Seconds—then another cut through the air. It was identical. Toni had replicated the noise perfectly.
“Excellent,” Miss Ronnie said. “You may proceed, Antoinette.”
Cassidy waited for it, gaze on the camera lens. She recalled Officer Thompson’s oft-repeated advice, remembered not to hold anything back. And from the first swing, when the nine tails of the cat streaked across the flesh of her lower back for the first time, she let fly a scream she thought might very well be heard throughout the entire prison. And she didn’t care. She held nothing back. Oh, this was bad. It was so, so bad…
So am I, she thought, howling in advance of the second stroke. This is me being punished for being bad.
The second blow fell. Half of the tresses found new flesh to scourge, but at least four of them doubled up where she had already been striped. Cassidy never turned her head from the camera. She cried to it instead. She did her best to obey, to communicate her anguish to the outside world—honestly if wordlessly. Are you enjoying this, America? she wondered. Does it make you happy?
And once more, yelling herself nearly hoarse on the final blow. With it came the apex of her pain, from this punishment at least, but there was also relief. It was done.
And, really, it hadn’t been so terrible. Officer Garcia’s first discipline had been worse. The flexor rod had been worse. It stung like crazy, but she knew Toni had kept her promise, hadn’t injured her, hadn’t hurt her beyond what she could bear.
When the manacles came off and Toni rolled her onto her back, she found she could lie there without too much discomfort. But she didn’t want to. As Toni crawled onto the bed with her, she sat up a little, wrapped her arms about her dorm sister’s neck. Leaned in for a kiss.
“Not so fast,” Toni said, easing her back down, forcing a pained wince from Cassidy as her back met the bed again. “Who is in charge here, Cass? You or me?”
“You are,” Cassidy said, lips aflutter with fresh trepidation.
“Tonight, Mistress will do the exploring. She will see all that Cass has kept from her.”
Cassidy bit her lip. Toni’s eyes remained on hers only briefly, then followed her hands as they traveled down the sides of her breasts to the waist, where Cassidy’s thighs remained pressed together. There, only the top of her sex—though completely hairless—was visible.
My clitoris, Cassidy thought, turning her gaze to the ceiling, away from the cameras. Away from Toni. She can see my clitoris. Right now. She’s looking at it.
“You promised me everything, Cass,” she said. “And that’s what I’m gonna get.”
“Yes, Mistress DiFiore.”
“Open your legs.”
Cassidy took a breath, let it out. With her vision blurring—not that it mattered much, focused on the ceiling as she was—Cassidy did as she was told.
“Knees apart. Hold your ankles against your ass cheeks.”
Cassidy reached and, rather to her own surprise, found herself flexible enough to obey. She held herself at a full spread, open for examination. Then she made a mistake. She looked down to see what was to be done to her.
“God,” Toni breathed, leaning in, drawing her phone from her pocket. “You’ve got a fuckin’ perfect vag, Cass. Oh, just look at it.” She aimed her phone, point blank, at her open, shaved, defenseless sex.
“Mistress, please don’t. I’m … so ashamed right now. No pictures…”
“Shush,” Toni said, diverting her attention just long enough to smile at her. “Look around, why don’t ya? Cameras everywhere. I’m allowed one pic, and I’m going to take it. Hold still.”
She aimed the phone. With her other hand, she traced her fingers over Cassidy’s secret folds, pushing in just a little here, there … then up the opening to the nub at the top. Slowly, she worked it with a finger, her thumb massaging her lower, down under.
I’m so wet right now, Cassidy thought, hopelessly. Everyone can see.
Flash.
“Gorgeous,” Toni said. Without checking the shot, she dropped her phone to the floor and leaned in again. Leading with her tongue, spreading her sex with both hands now.
Mouth wide open, she tasted her, encompassing her whol
e split with her lips, tongue poking her inner walls. Cassidy moaned, her body bucking. She couldn’t even move her arms, as her hands had been given a job already. She could only endure.
I’m going to come, Cassidy thought. I need to come. Don’t stop.
Briefly, Toni resurfaced, the lower half of her face awash with Cassidy’s essence. “My finger,” she said, holding up the middle one, sliding it into her mouth, drawing it back out slowly. “It wants to fuck you, Cass. What do you say to a little finger bombing?”
Cassidy stared at her, thunderstruck—but inside, still yearning.
“It wants to go all in. It wants to feel you from the inside, Cass, but I won’t do it unless you ask me to.”
I can’t believe I’m doing this. Now. On TV.
She closed her eyes. “Do it,” she whispered. Her body shuddered with need, an ache and a longing that actually hurt from within, even while her outer flesh still stung from the lash.
She felt that middle finger, slick with Toni’s fluids and her own, at her very entrance. And then again, that tongue at work on her clitoris. She heard the cameras swiveling, the lenses autofocusing. The eyes of the world were on her as she let Toni probe her opening. A gasp escaped her—more shushing noises from Toni…
Then it was in, all while Toni still feasted on her, tasting her, slurping at her.
That finger fucking her, the downturned palm pressing between her legs as the middle finger worked from the inside. There was no pain. There was only heat—blinding, muscle-wrenching heat. Thick squelching noises of absolute pleasure and release. Pure abandon.
And at the end, a kiss on her cheek.
“Thank you, Cassidy.”
Her full name.
Cassidy let her legs go, reached out with her hands again. Just for an embrace. All she wanted now was a hug.
Mistress accommodated her.
Chapter Nineteen
Dominoes
When Buddy was first led from the café theater room back into the hall, he’d expected to get some pants, or maybe his jumpsuit, or perhaps even just a towel. Instead, with Officer Kersey backing up deeper into the hall ahead of him, keeping him in frame, Nurse Reyes-Garcia stripped him completely naked.