The Scarlett Letters

by Jenny Nordbak

  Two of the other girls took that as their cue and started spanking him hard. He flinched, but didn’t break his rhythm.

  It seemed unreasonably soon to pretend to come no matter how good he was, but I really didn’t want to be the center of attention anymore and was starting to freak out, so I threw my head back and made the sounds of what I hoped was a convincing orgasm.

  “Good, Boy,” she said. “Now you can have your reward!”

  I looked up to see Raven approaching him wearing a big pink strap-on. I had never seen someone get fucked with a strap-on before and was riveted as he bent over in front of her. I was still on the counter, so Boy’s head naturally fell in my lap. He looked up at me with adoring eyes and said, “Thank you for letting me please you, Mistress.”

  I stroked his head and replied, “Well done, Boy. That felt amazing!”

  I didn’t have a clear view of what Raven was doing, but it was obvious when she lined up her cock and pushed it slowly forward into Boy. He expelled his breath and I couldn’t tell whether he liked it or not. I tilted my head and saw how hard he was and at least deduced that he must not hate it. The girls went back to spanking him. Storm reached under him and stroked his hard dick. Raven grinned at me and asked, “Scarlett, wanna practice some CBT? You can punch him in the balls if you want. He likes that … don’t you, Boy?”

  “Yes, Goddess!” he groaned as she thrust harder.

  He lifted his head and stood partially upright to give me access. I slid my hand under Storm’s and grabbed his sack as hard as I could, eliciting another groan. I let go to make a fist and swung upward to punch him hard in the balls. He bent his knees slightly to absorb the impact, but locked eyes with me, daring me to do it again. I did. Repeatedly. I alternated hands, punching him harder and harder right in the balls and it was thrilling. As a woman, it’s a forbidden act to ever punch a man in the junk unless you are in imminent danger of being assaulted by said man. Everything about this was taboo and erotically charged. Raven, Storm, and I found ourselves moving in time to the drumbeat that was vibrating through the room. Boy maintained eye contact with me, but begged Raven, “Goddess, may I please come?”

  She handed Storm a plastic cup and said, “Into the cup like a good Boy!”

  He came into the cup and then Storm presented him with it and said, “Looks like Boy has his drink! Anyone else need one? I’m heading to the bar!”

  I straightened my skirt and jumped down from the counter, following the crowd out of the bathroom. I felt disoriented and confused as I made my way back outside to find Amelia. I was worried she would be upset, but when I eventually found her, she was draped over Liam’s lap getting a spanking. She was facing away so she didn’t see me. I didn’t want her to get self-conscious because I was suddenly there, so I melted back into the crowd.

  Looks like someone else has a kinky side she wants to explore!

  The rest of the night was a blur of voyeurism and exhibitionism. I felt isolated and disjointed, like I knew I was trying too hard to be cool but couldn’t seem to stop. At the same time, I felt obligated to facilitate a scene for Wes with some of my girls, or I knew he would be disappointed. I asked Raven for assistance.

  “Want to beat my sub’s balls?”

  “Abso-fuckin-lutely! He’s a cutie. And I’m always in for beating balls. Storm, wanna help me?”

  “Sure!” she replied, setting her drink on the side of the stage.

  “Do you need to tell him, or can we just accost him?” Raven asked.

  “He’s all yours. He likes it pretty heavy, but I’ll step in if I think it’s getting to be too much.”

  I melted back into the crowd, watching as they approached an unsuspecting Wes. Raven didn’t waste any time, seizing a grip on his balls and saying something in his ear. I found myself smiling at the grin that lit his face. In her boots, Raven was nearly as tall as him, so she got behind him and wrapped him in a headlock. Storm kicked his legs apart so that they were spread in a wide stance. She booted him in the balls much harder than I had ever done. I heard him grunt, but he looked up at her with fire in his eyes. She moved in closer and started punching his balls over and over without letting up. His groans got louder until he was yelling at each punch, but he knew he could use a safe word and wasn’t, so I let them continue.

  Raven and Storm switched places, and Raven nailed him so hard with her first kick that he dropped to the ground. He was too heavy for Storm to hold up, so she let him pant on all fours for a minute. I thought maybe it was time for me to stop them, but I trusted these women not to take things too far. They were pros. When Wes looked back up, Storm stood behind him and held his arms behind his back. He was still in a wide stance, but was now on his knees with nowhere to go. By the time Raven was finished with him, he was definitely in sub space. And he fucking loved it. His eyes were glazed over, and he couldn’t seem to stop grinning. He wasn’t normally one for PDA, but suddenly he couldn’t keep his hands off me. He was adoring, attentive, and grateful for the rest of the night.

  Thoughts and adrenaline swirled through my head as I laid it down on the pillow and tried to sleep afterward. It had been such a positive experience for Wes, and only seemed to make our relationship better … so that was a good thing.

  Erin had definitely kept my panties. What the fuck did that mean?

  Amelia had a kinky side. Who knew?

  I had done fire play. And let someone’s sub go down on me. And punched a stranger in the balls. And seen some seriously crazy shit.

  Yet somehow, in spite of all the madness of the night, my mind kept returning to the same image of Raven thrusting her strap-on into Boy for the first time. I wanted to do that. As my hand slid slowly down under the sheets, Raven was no longer part of the image. It was all me.

  20. LADY CATERINA

  I was shy of six months of experience at the Dungeon, but I desperately wanted to be able to start Switching and had been training hard toward that end. I was a sponge who probably drove the rest of the staff nuts trying to learn more. Everyone had different strengths and tricks for each scenario and I wanted to know them all.

  My rope work was still weak, but I could do the most useful binds and a simple harness. Clients usually didn’t want anything too elaborate anyway because it took too much time to tie and untie. I had focused on utilitarian knots that I could use efficiently in a session.

  A visiting German Domme had taught me the basics of CBT bondage, which I found much more interesting than traditional Shibari. A bind around the cock and balls can serve as anything from a pleasant cock ring that keeps the blood from leaving the penis and intensifies sensation in a most pleasurable way. Or it can be a gloriously sadistic means to better torture male genitalia. Weights can be hung from the balls and kicked. It was incredible how quickly I went from being nervous and uncomfortable with CBT to reveling in it. Who knew a shoelace could be so versatile?

  I had a basic working knowledge of all of the common implements from paddles to whips to the Violet Wand (an electro-play toy). I knew the difference between a buggy whip, a signal whip, and a bullwhip, and I had experienced the indescribable thrill of cracking a single tail for the first time. I could swing floggers in the double Florentine style. I had learned the different varieties of gags, blindfolds, spanking techniques, and verbal humiliation. There were dozens of little gems of knowledge planted in my mind. I knew there was a sweet spot on the upper thigh just before the cheek starts that stings like a motherfucker when struck. There were voices in my head now that I couldn’t silence. Sometimes at my vanilla job, they would whisper of suspicions about people, of instincts about what people wanted to do behind closed doors.

  I had decided that it was time to undergo my Switch test so that I could start taking a greater variety of clients. Lady Caterina would be administering the test and I was going to use Minx as my test bottom.

  I liked Minx. As one of the few black girls who worked at the Dungeon, she had to put up with a lot of shit from the clients
. Guys constantly wanted to play out the most appalling racist fantasies with her—a slave and master on an antebellum plantation, pimp and hooker, or some variation of an African native. She always took it in stride. The rest of us were usually more offended than she was. She didn’t see any of it as being any worse than home invasion or schoolgirl fantasies. In her eyes, people couldn’t help that they were into it, and this was supposed to be a safe space to explore the things that other people were offended by. The one time she drew the line was when a guy named Hal wanted to pretend she was being gang-raped by an African village who performed genital mutilation on her. I’m not even sure how he envisioned playing that one out, but it seemed like a reasonable place to put her foot down.

  Cat had Raven watch the desk and she met Minx and me in the cell for my exam.

  “Okay, Scar, we can either go through this one skill test at a time or I can tell you everything you need to cover and you can just build it all into a scene that I observe.”

  “I would prefer to do a scene for your amusement, Lady Caterina.”

  I would usually just have called her Cat, but I had a feeling she would be meticulous in testing me, so I stuck to protocol. My suspicions were confirmed when she smirked and scribbled something on her clipboard.

  “Great. I don’t think we need to do everything since I already know you’re proficient at most of the basics. So why don’t you restrain your sub and then give her a good light to medium hand spanking. You can decide the rest of the scene, but I’d like to see you use a medium paddle, light flogger, heavy nipple torture, face slapping, and verbal humiliation. We’ll condense it to fifteen minutes including your prep time. Sound good?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  Fifteen minutes wasn’t very long to throw together something decent, so I immediately went into go mode. I had moved to race toward the hallway to collect everything I needed when I paused and turned back to Minx. I knew Cat had cleared everything with her already, but if this was supposed to mimic a real session, I would need to run through limits and a safe word.

  “Kneel, slut,” I commanded. She dropped gracefully before me and bowed her head in submission.

  “Our session will include light to medium impact play, heavy nipple torture, face slapping, and humiliation while you are tied up. Your safe word will be ‘shenanigans.’ Are you comfortable with all of that?”

  “Yes, Mistress,” she said with confidence but didn’t raise her eyes.

  “Marvelous.”

  I walked quickly but calmly from the room and started pulling implements from the walls. Two medium lengths of nylon rope would get the job done. I picked a sturdy leather paddle that I had been on the receiving end of a number of times. I wasn’t as sure about nipple clamps, but I pulled a set from a hook that didn’t look too frightening and hoped they would still qualify as heavy. I walked quickly to the dressing room and grabbed my own floggers from my bag. I wouldn’t necessarily have used them in a session with a client, but I knew I could control them better than any that belonged to the Dungeon.

  I paused for just a moment outside the door to the cell to take a deep breath and make sure I had a plan of action that would hit everything in the allotted time.

  The next twelve minutes blew by, but I managed to successfully cover everything Cat had listed and felt that I had nailed it. My flogging had been outstanding. My verbal humiliation was colorful and on point. Minx’s derriere was an even, glowing red across both cheeks. My wrist bind hadn’t taken too long and I didn’t get myself tangled. I had never tried face slapping before, so my slaps were probably a little on the sissy side, but I knew I hadn’t done anything unsafe. I was confident that I had passed with flying colors.

  Cat finished scribbling notes on a clipboard and looked up with a smile.

  “Good job, Scar. I’ll let the Webmistress know that you’ll be sending her your new pictures and profile so she can move you over to Switch. You did a nice job on most of that, but I just want to go over a few things that I think you could improve on now that you’ll be able to take Domme sessions.”

  She dropped her clipboard in the corner and approached Minx. She circled her slowly. Gone was Cat the bubbly, matronly desk Mistress. In her place was Lady Caterina. I was about to catch a glimpse of how spectacular she must have been in her prime.

  She stopped behind Minx and wrapped her arms around her to pull her back with one hand and take her by the throat with the other. Minx smiled with surprise.

  Her lips were against Minx’s ear, as she said, “You think this is funny, you worthless little cum Dumpster.”

  The quiet menace in her tone wiped the smile from Minx’s face. The actual words she said were irrelevant. She could’ve asked about the weather and it would’ve been clear that Minx’s existence was insignificant.

  “No, Mistress,” Minx replied on cue.

  I sensed the violence in the air a fraction of a second before she exploded, spinning Minx around and striking her across the cheek with a stinging blow. Minx’s head whipped to the side.

  “That wasn’t a question. I didn’t give you permission to speak.”

  “I’m sorry, Mis—”

  This time Caterina backhanded her with a crack.

  I knew that part of what she was trying to show me can’t really be explained. I had been checking boxes in my mind, constantly thinking about mechanics and the next steps. I was playing at being in charge. She was the real deal. I was stiff and clearly forcing it. She fucking owned it.

  Point taken.

  She wasn’t trying to make me insecure. She was pushing me to be better and I loved her for it.

  Caterina went through the mechanics of face slapping and nipple torture, showing me how I could do it more effectively. I learned that the more force is concentrated on a smaller area closer to the tip of the nipple, the more painful it is. She taught me exactly where on the face to strike with which part of my hand. But the real lesson I walked away with was that it wasn’t enough to simply go through the motions. I needed to become Mistress Scarlett. For now, I was officially a Switch and that was enough to open a whole new world of possibilities.

  I convinced Cat to have a drink with me after work to celebrate and to thank her for all of her guidance. It gave me the opportunity to ask her something I had been wondering for a while.

  “How the fuck do you deal with the constant stream of obnoxious randos on the phone and at the desk? Where do you get the patience?”

  “I try to live my life by the saying: ‘Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about, so be kind.’”

  It was a more profound response than I had expected, and it stuck with me.

  21. THE DOC

  I had passed my first real test at the Dungeon with flying colors, but it would be a few more months before I got an opportunity to prove myself in the vanilla world. Rich had been heading for an inevitable rock bottom for months, and I’m ashamed to admit that I had shown little interest in helping him. I didn’t know him well enough to feel comfortable prying, but it was also convenient for hiding the fact that I was moonlighting as a sex worker. The more of a shit show he was, the less he paid attention to my comings and goings, and that made it much easier to get to the Dungeon on time. The days that my mom visited the jobsite were brutal and stressful when I was trying to get out the door but didn’t want to tell her why. My volunteer work lie was starting to sound pretty sketchy and I could tell that she was beginning to doubt me. I didn’t think for a second she suspected anything close to the truth, but I really didn’t need her prying.

  On my way in to the jobsite one morning, I passed Denny’s and saw Rich’s car. I initially dismissed his presence there as normal and assumed I would see him in the trailer after he had grabbed his breakfast, but some instinct made me turn around and park next to him. Closer inspection revealed that Rich was passed out drunk in the driver’s seat and the engine was still running. At least he was breathing. No story that I could come up with in my
head had a good explanation for this outcome. I opened the driver’s side door, turned the engine off, and shook him by the shoulder. I didn’t envy him in the least when he opened his bloodshot eyes and tried to make sense of his surroundings.

  “Morning, Jen,” he croaked out.

  “Morning, sunshine. Want to grab some breakfast and tell me what’s going on here?”

  “Sure thing.”

  I had to give him an arm to stop him from stumbling on the way across the parking lot. I let him fall into a heap on one side of a booth and slid across the other side. I knew better than to engage him without coffee, so I signaled the waitress and let him get some caffeine in his system.

  “Went to the bar after work last night and must’ve had a few too many. Was going to drive home, but decided I should eat something and sober up a little first. Made it to the parking lot, but must’ve passed out before coming in. At least I don’t think I came in here.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Rich, driving blackout drunk is not okay. You could’ve killed someone. You’re not in high school. You know better.”

  Shit, I sound like my mother.

  He winced and looked like a puppy who had just been kicked. Rich ordered food and we sat in silence while he continued to medicate with coffee. I wanted to ask if he’d checked his blood pressure recently, but knew the answer and left it alone. I didn’t know that much about heart attacks, but he didn’t look like he was in imminent danger of dying, so it didn’t seem constructive to keep prodding him. I also wondered whether his wife knew where he was, but didn’t want to dive too deep into his business.

  “She kicked me out,” he said as though reading my mind. “Said I need to get my act together. That she wasn’t putting up with me anymore.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Given that the guy was rarely sober, I couldn’t say I blamed the poor woman.

  “I just don’t know how I ended up here.”