When Dee bent forward, the cheeks of her quivering backside were stretched open. They presented Isabella with an exposed view of her puckered anus and the open lips of her sex. Her rear bore all too clear evidence of her punishment so far, and her anus and pussy just as clear evidence of its effect on her. Both were pulsating uncontrollably and her labia were swollen and wet. Trickles of love juice were running down her thighs.
‘I’ll start by beating your backside twenty times with the paddle,’ Isabella said. ‘I want you to count off each strike and thank me for it in the proper respectful manner. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, Mistress,’ Dee replied, her voice unsteady.
Isabella raised her arm up to shoulder height and brought it down vigorously.
Thwack! That first blow nearly knocked all the breath out of the slave.
‘One, thank you, Mistress,’ Dee managed to pant.
Thwack!
‘Two, thank you, Mistress.’
Thwack!
‘Three, thank you, Mistress.’
Thwack! …. And on and relentlessly on.
‘All right, Dee, you can keep quiet now,’ Isabella said once the young slave had gasped her way through the full twenty strikes. The scorched cheeks of her backside were now flushed an even deeper and angrier shade of red. Isabella continued: ‘Yes, you can keep quiet and you can stay quiet too. I don’t want to hear another word out of you. From this point on you are to be obscene but not heard, comprendre?’ Dee nodded her understanding.
Isabella carried on using the red paddle on her backside and upper thighs, beating her ever harder until she raised her back as an involuntary reflex action. ‘Down, slave, down,’ Isabella commanded, placing a hand in the small of her back and pushing her firmly down.
Isabella continued paddling Dee until she felt as if her backside and thighs were on fire. And then the dominatrix stopped, putting the paddle to one side.
‘That makes a lovely picture, slave. You can take my word for it,’ Isabella commented. ‘But we don’t want just a uniform red. Let’s introduce some variety into the picture. I’ve just the thing – my braided leather flogger.’
Isabella picked up the vicious black and red whip from the top of the side table, positioned herself behind Dee again, and raised it. The whip hissed sharply when she swung it through the air and when it landed with a crack on its target the sudden pain that seared across Dee’s backside nearly overwhelmed her. She was still trying to draw breath when Isabella brought the whip down again. It was even more agonizing. As the savage whipping continued, the furious pain Dee was suffering became almost unbearable. She raised her head and was about to register a protest.
‘Stay put, you tiresome bitch,’ Isabella demanded sharply, pushing Dee’s head down before she had a chance to speak. ‘I thought I’d already made it clear that you’re to suffer in silence. You’ve got nothing to say that I want to hear unless it’s to beg for mercy or ask for permission to come. Otherwise, just shut the fuck up and take your punishment.’
Isabella continued to thrash Dee’s backside mercilessly, causing numerous welts to spring there like fresh cut stems. Finally she put the braided flogger back on the side table.
‘Now I’m going to use my most vicious cane on you,’ Isabella announced, her dark eyes glinting with malice as she picked up the thin length of smooth rattan and showed it to her victim. She gave the cane a couple of experimental strokes through the air. ‘Listen to the sinister swishing noise it makes as it slices through the air,’ she said, ‘and feel its painful sting.’
And Dee did indeed hear the low swish as the cane was drawn back and the louder one as it descended and, oh, how she suffered the sharp sting of its first searing stroke as Isabella brought it down hard across the punished cheeks of her backside.
‘Ow!’ she squealed.
‘Silence,’ Isabella snapped. ‘Be warned, I shan’t tell you again.’
For a long time the room resounded once more with the sound of punishment, this time the swish and crack of cane against flesh. Isabella caned Dee’s backside with unrelentingly hard rhythmic strokes until it was criss-crossed with clear stripes and the young slave’s eyes were welling with tears of pain.
Isabella stopped and stroked the cane gently over Dee’s rear, admiring the well-striped cheeks. She carried on rolling it tantalizingly over her backside and legs before recommencing the beating. This time the swipes of the cane she inflicted on her rear were less frequent but also much harsher as she brought her arm right back before striking. Three final vicious swipes in swift succession left Dee whimpering in agony. Isabella examined with cruel satisfaction the intensely painful red stripes that now covered her backside and thighs.
‘On to your knees,’ demanded the pitiless dominatrix, ‘That’s right, slave … like that … kiss the cane … good … keep your backside in the air ...’ Dee’s rear was burning ferociously and her breath was coming in little gasps as she put her lips to the thin hard rod.
‘You’ve been exceptionally wilful and stubborn, Dee,’ Isabella said ‘But I trust you’ve learned your lesson now.’
‘Yes, Mistress,’ she responded meekly, looking up at her ruthless tormentor.
‘I hope you’re truly sorry for the disobedience and lack of respect you’ve shown to Master John,’ Isabella continued, leaning down and gripping Dee by the hair so that she could look her directly in the eye.
‘Yes, Mistress. I’m truly sorry.’
‘And I really hope I don’t have to see you here again,’ Isabella added, staring at her with a gleam of pure menace in her eyes.
‘Yes, Mistress,’ Dee replied softly as she grovelled at Isabella’s feet, her severely punished rear in the air. But what she was actually thinking as she looked up adoringly at Isabella was that she couldn’t wait to see her cruel new Mistress again.
‘I keep telling you, Dee,’ Isabella rasped, harshly interrupting the slave’s reverie, her eyes now flashing with anger, ‘I know what you’re thinking and, frankly, it simply won’t fucking do.’ With that she lifted the cane high above her head and rained blow after ferocious blow on Dee’s backside, breaking the skin in numerous places.
‘Mercy, Mistress, mercy,’ the distraught slave screamed, weeping uncontrollably. ‘Permission to come … please, Mistress … oh permission to come,’ she begged in desperation. Isabella gave consent and Dee was utterly overwhelmed by an orgasm that was long and violent, the most savage climax she had ever experienced in her entire life.
Isabella paused for a while before speaking again, waiting for Dee’s earth shattering orgasm to subside. ‘I don’t think you quite understood me,’ she said calmly, looking down at the thoroughly chastened slave. Dee’s face was stained with tears and she whimpered and shook pitifully at her feet. ‘I really – and I do mean really – don’t ever want to see you here again. Do you understand me now?’
‘Yes, Mistress.’ Dee looked up at her with her large brown eyes. They were tear-filled and thoroughly remorseful and, at long last, contained not even the smallest, not even the tiniest glimmer of disobedience. Job done, Isabella said to herself with satisfaction.
Chapter Eleven
‘You are right,’ Isabella said, concluding her much truncated, much censored account of the ruthless way in which she’d broken the wilful Dee. She turned her eyes directly on David’s and he was struck anew by the almost inhuman power of her concentrated gaze. ‘I really am very cruel indeed – as cruel as they come. I never take hostages. When a person is disciplined by me, they stay disciplined. Resistance is futile.’
‘Yes, Mistress,’ David replied with a shudder.
‘Now, let’s change the subject,’ Isabella said, her eyes still fixed on his but much less intensely now. ‘Is there anything you’d particularly like to know about me?’
David took a sip of wine as he thought about the question. ‘Is Isabella Stern your real name, Mistress?’ he asked, thinking as soon as the words had come out of his mouth: Surely you
could have come up with a better question than that, you bloody fool. Talk about wasted opportunities. Still, he’d sometimes wondered. The name seemed almost too apt, a way of marketing La Fetishista maybe, a kind of stage name.
Isabella peered into her wine glass. ‘Believe it or not, it is my real name, yes,’ she said. ‘My husband’s surname has always been Stern – he’s never felt any need for a name change; why would he have? And my birth name was Isabella Etorri. My mother was Japanese and my father was Italian, hence my rather exotic appearance. My parents emigrated from Italy to England before I was born. My father’s family lived for generations on the Italian coast, which is perhaps why I’m so drawn to a seaside place like Brighton.’
‘You are, Mistress?’ David said, delighted to hear her say it.
‘Absolutely,’ Isabella said. ‘Alan likes to play the squire in our country house and spends a great deal of his time there but I’m not personally a fan of the English countryside – all that green. Our villa in Italy is a great place to take a vacation occasionally and holidaying there gets me back to my roots but I wouldn’t want to live out there for any length of time. Brighton is where we opened our first La Fetishista store; it’s where we have our head office and where I live most of the time, the place I think of as home. Anything else you’d like to know, slave?’
‘You mentioned your husband, Mistress,’ David said.
‘Ah, yes. I can understand that you would be curious about him,’ Isabella said. ‘He and I spend an awful lot of time apart, it’s true. Is our marriage little more than a business partnership, you may be wondering? Well, sorry to disappoint you, slave, but Alan and I have a strong relationship, always have, although it is certainly a very unorthodox one. The major issue for us – and it’s crucial – is that we are both extremely dominant and sadistic sexually, which has meant that we have had to seek … different solutions.’
‘Thank you for the clarification, Mistress,’ David said, thinking, so, what did that make him? – nobody of any great consequence to Isabella evidently. But it didn’t always have to be that way, did it. If he kept on being a good slave to her … He didn’t have time to pursue the thought.
‘Let’s go back to your house now,’ Isabella said abruptly, summoning the waiter for the bill with an imperious wave of her hand. ‘We’ll take my car. It’s not parked far away.’ David was relieved to hear it, given what he had rammed up his backside. Walking wouldn’t be as difficult as it had been earlier, he reckoned, but it still wouldn’t be easy.
Isabella and David climbed out of her car. It was sleek and black and the Mercedes logo on the grille gleamed brightly in the steadily deepening twilight. As soon as they entered David’s house and were in his living room, Isabella told him to put on the light and pull the curtains. When he’d done that she asked, ‘What were you doing when I phoned you earlier, slave?’
‘Masturbating, Mistress,’ he answered truthfully.
‘I thought as much,’ Isabella said, her face twisting into a half smile. ‘Take off your clothes and do it for me now. I want to watch you masturbating. Take off everything apart from your chained collar and genital ring. You must keep the nipple clamps and butt plug in place too.’
‘Yes, Mistress,’ David said and stripped off his outer clothing and the tiny leather g-string.
Isabella pointedly looked him over, her black eyes hard. ‘Masturbate now, slave,’ she said, focussing her gaze now exclusively on his crotch. ‘Jerk yourself off right in front of me.’ And he started to do as she’d told him to, stroking his initially semi-tumescent cock in smooth, regular movements until it was as hard as a rock.
‘Do it faster,’ Isabella then said, and he did, his heart pounding fast and his fist pounding faster as he jerked his cock in an increasingly insistent rhythm.
‘Do it even faster,’ she said next, and David obeyed, his pleasure mounting ever closer to boiling point as he jerked urgently at his erection.
Isabella’s dark eyes were unreadable as she witnessed this uninhibited, this feverish solitary act that she herself had stage-managed. She followed David’s every furious stroke, his every lustful expression, his every passionate gasp. Her own demeanour remained cool, calm and collected throughout, though, even when David reached his shuddering climax, spraying his fist with jism and letting out a guttural moan of release.
‘You’d better go and clean yourself up now, slave,’ Isabella said, the same impenetrable expression on her beautiful face. ‘You can take off your nipple clamps and remove the butt plug while you’re about it.’
David went up to the bathroom and washed his hands and genitals. Next he took off the nipple clamps, which hurt intensely as the blood rushed like quicksilver back into the previously constricted flesh. After that he removed the butt plug. Feeling the rubbery base of the object, he slowly extracted the monster from deep inside him. Oh, the incredible pain! Oh, the blessed relief!
When David returned downstairs to the living room Isabella had gone. His cruel and enigmatic Mistress had left him all alone once more.
Chapter Twelve
David was again left gazing at the phone, waiting desperately for Isabella to call him. There were times when he felt an almost overwhelming temptation to phone her instead. “I know you told me never to call you, Mistress,” he’d say. “But this is urgent. It’s a matter of life and death. You see, all this waiting around to hear from you is killing me, sucking the life blood out of me. I have to see you soon or I’ll die. I have to feel your hands on me, feel the kiss of your whip on my skin, feel the …”
But David knew he was being ridiculous, fantasising absurdly in his desperation to hear word from her. Isabella had made it perfectly clear right from the outset that she’d call him whenever it suited her and that he was never to call her. That was the deal, the only game in town for him. There was nothing he could do to change the situation.
Time continued to drag by as if it was infinitely elastic. Then at long last the moment David had been waiting for, praying for, arrived and she phoned again, her caller identification flashing up. He had the receiver in his hand before the second ring had ended. ‘I want to see you, slave,’ Isabella said.
‘Thank goodness, Mistress,’ David replied in relief, feeling the sensation almost as a physical force.
‘Do you remember the first time I visited your home?’
‘Yes, Mistress.’ How could he ever forget it? The experience would be etched on his memory forever.
‘When preparing for my arrival today I want you to follow exactly the same routine you did then,’ Isabella said. ‘But this time when I arrive I want to find you kneeling on your hands and knees on the edge of your bed.’
Naked and blindfolded and on all fours on the bed, David heard Isabella’s footsteps getting closer all the time as she mounted the stairs. They got closer still as she walked through the open door to his bedroom and crossed the room towards him. She was immediately behind David now, immediately behind his arched back, his splayed rear. He was trembling with excitement, the rosebud opening of his anus twitching, his cock rigidly erect and pulsing.
David was almost sure what it was that Isabella was going to do to him today and what she went on to do next only made him more certain about that. He felt the sensation of a tube emptying into his anal hole. The lubricant was cool as she squirted it into his anus, which tightened and then began to relax.
‘I know what you’re thinking, slave,’ Isabella said. ‘You think I’m going to fuck you in the arse again. And you’re right, but I’m not going to do it with one of my strap-on dildos this time. I’m going to do it with my fist.’
Isabella moved her hand away from his body then. David gasped as he heard her snapping on the latex glove and gasped again at the liquid sound of her lubing up her fingers. She slid one, then two of them into the puckered opening of his hole and began to work them in and out of the darkness of his insides. It made him moan and squirm with pleasure.
Isabella concentrated
on massaging the entrance to David’s anal hole for a few moments, making it spasm as he pushed his hips back towards her wrist. She then returned to fucking him in the arse with the two fingers, making him breathe fast. Her fingers were really working his anus now and she twisted a third one in. Isabella drove all three of them inside him, plunging hard. David could feel his hole flex around her latex-covered fingers, gripping them, and he began whimpering with pleasure.
He shuddered as he felt Isabella add more lube, then ease her fourth finger into his wet anal hole and slowly start to fuck him there again. He was amazed her fingers were fitting inside him but it was now very far from being a comfortable fit despite all the lube. His thighs were tensed and he was in unbearable pain but was also experiencing intense pleasure – pleasure that was further intensified when Isabella reached around with her other hand and began to stroke his throbbing erection.
As Isabella eased her fingers into David’s anus to the second knuckle, he groaned with pleasure-pain. He tightened his hole around her fingers as he realised she had added her thumb. He didn’t think he’d have been able to take all her hand like this and yet he had. But, fuck, it really hurt and he was relieved when she started to ease right off. Isabella held the hand with which she was fisting David completely still inside him for a spell but she continued to stroke and pull at his stiff cock with the other one.
When she judged the time was right Isabella got to work with her latex-covered fingers again, started to ease her fist further into David’s anus. She was nearly all the way inside him now, and it hurt so much. The pain was extreme … and it was exquisite.
Continuing to massage his hard cock with her other hand, Isabella slid the hand with which she was buggering David further still into his anus. She did this oh so slowly, oh so gently and gradually his anal muscles began to loosen up a little more. As she slid her hand all the way in, he let out a loud cry and pushed backwards further onto her wrist.
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