Contrition Ch. 03

Please read the previous parts first to understand what is going on.

*

Such sweet and delicate skin.

She's so pale. The dusting of freckles on her nose and cheeks enhance and display her beauty. The red hair hangs down, a mass of loose curls, still damp to the touch of my fingers as I instruct her to lean forward so I can get to the buckle of the gag. The nape of her neck is fine and delicate amnd white. I stroke it as I unbuckle the gag. My arousal is mounting and I can barely stop myself from panting, so high is the heat in my throbbing pussy.

I place my cupped hand by her mouth and tell her to spit out the ball, and with some effort she does, a string of fine saliva connecting the rubber ball to her mouth. I wipe it away making her blush becomingly under the blindfold.

"So......?" She takes a deep breath and sobs. She whispers something.

"I can't hear you Darby, speak up or we may have to replace the gag," I caution her.

"Please..." Her voice is thick and heavy with emotion.

I am about to ram the ball back into her mouth and fetch the crop when she speaks again.

"Please......may I...?"

"Speak more clearly Darby," my patience is on a knife edge.

"Please May I please you?" a tear blossoms beneath the edge of the blindfold and swells and finally trickles down her delicate cheek.

"Mistress?" I suggest sweetly.

Her blush deepens to crimson as she repeats the request."Please, may I please you Mistress?"

"Good girl Darby," I press one hand to the back of her head and he face moves forward, her soft lips touching the inflamed lips of my sex. I shiver and bite my lip about to scream with the moment. Months of preparation have gone into this one moment of exquisite submission and recompense. Just the first of many. My anguish, my humiliation, the agony and pain and distress that this woman has caused me can now begin to be repaid.

And repaid they will be, in full.

I struggle to keep my voice steady. I tell her how to please me. Her lips form and kiss me there and I can feel all of her acquiescence in them. I sigh and close my eyes. One hand remains at the back of her head, cradling it as she warms to her task. Her small, pink tongue emerges and I almost climax there and then as I look down between my thighs to see it there, on my waxed pussy, seeking softly between my swollen lips and tracing the inner ones, seeking my core. If she hasn't done this before then she's a natural. It's bliss as she seeks the entrance to my vagina. She moans softly, her breath warm on me as she closes on it and tastes the stronger musk there.

"Darby," I whisper as she works at me. She does not stop. Already she is learning. "From now on you will always address me as Mistress."

She stiffens a little but surely this cannot come as a total surprise to her. We've been building to it; the collar, the nakedness, sleeping at the foot of my bed. All were softening her up to this moment.

She says nothing, but continues diligently applying her tongue and lips to my dripping pussy. I shudder, my fingers tightening in her red tresses as the tip of her tongue penetrates me. I find my pelvis gyrating unconsciously.

"Yes," my voice is hoarse. "There...Just like that," I begin to grind my pussy against her face, a trace of cruelty surging in me, delighting in the sight of her blindfolded face, smeared and glistening between my thighs. She gasps and chokes a little as I force my cunt against her mouth, excitement getting the better of me for a minute, my composure evaporating.

"Come on you little bitch!" I hiss between clenched teeth and she stiffens fearfully. But she obeys, applying her mouth and tongue harder, faster, and deeper.

I grasp her tighter and force my pubis against her so she can barely breathe. She renews her efforts, desperate to please me. I can feel her struggling, and it excites me beyond belief. Suddenly I'm there and my climax has come out of nowhere to overwhelm me. I make her squeal, the sound vibrating against me as I twist her hair tighter. She is struggling, hands pulling wildly at the cuffs and making sweet little tinkling jingles with her nipple bells and it's enough to throw me right over the edge.

oOo

When I come round I'm on my back on the bedroom floor, curled into a foetal ball and she's on the other side of the room lying quietly, limp like a discarded toy.

I smile; my body feels warm and glowing in every molecule. A golden radiance fills me.

"Darby?"

She raises her head, her face wet and shining with my juices, smeared crudely all over her lips and mouth. I can sense that she's been crying. It makes my pussy throb anew watching her.

"Yes?" She asks her voice far away and gentle, filled with disbelief.

"Yes what?" I snap, making her jump.

"Yes Mistress!" she blurts without a pause for thought. She lowers her head, ashamed of herself, but I am conversely proud. I cross to her on hands and knees, a cat stalking her prey. I take her blindfolded head between my two palms and, holding her still, I kiss her lips softly, meaningfully.

"Good girl Darby," I tell her "I think we're beginning to get there."

She smiles shyly; A smile to melt the heart. Hope is there, and pride. I smile a smile of my own, a smile that she does not see, but one that would chill her if she did.

It is a beginning, that much is true, but we have a very long way to go yet before her contrition is complete, a very long way indeed.

I allow her a second of warmth before using the leash to drag her to her feet. She sobs a little as the leash tightens and hurries to scramble upright. I lead her across the bedroom and pull down with the leash indicating that she should kneel.

She obliges me and saves herself a spanking by doing so, kneeling prettily by the bed as I open the wardrobe, searching through my wardrobe for something suitable to wear and perhaps a little something for her too....

ooOOoo

Less than a day:

Yesterday I was a strong woman, confident, influential; people asked for my advice and followed my instructions. I had authority over my subordinates, I was respected and dare I say it, I was feared.

But it has taken her less than a day to strip it all away, to reduce me to this; a frightened, nervous creature, a toy to be played with, an object to be used and tormented at the whim of a woman half my age. The things that she has done to me, the way she talks to me and treats me; one word keeps bouncing around my head, a word terrifying by its implications. The word is 'Slave.'

I am naked, on my knees and wearing a collar, my hands are cuffed behind me and I am instructed to refer to her as Mistress. I wait for her to abuse me or command me. What else could I be but a slave? the thought frightens me, she frightens me. I'm frightened even to talk but I know that I must.

"P, please Mistress, may I speak," my voice sounds timid and pathetic but calling her Mistress comes so easy to me even after such a short time.

"Of course Darby my darling, as long as it's not something that I don't want to hear," she answers me in the way she might reply to a question about the weather "now what is it you want?"

"Mistress, please may I have something to eat? I'm so hungry," I haven't eaten since yesterday morning and despite my fears I have to speak out. She has been busy opening and shutting doors and drawers, mumbling to herself, but she stops whatever she is doing and I cringe in fear and expectation of some sort of punishment.

"Oh my Darby you are insatiable, you ate just a few minutes ago," she chuckles and I hear her approach and again her fingers are entwining in my hair.

Has she misunderstood me or is she just playing yet another game with me? "I, I'm sorry Mistress, I, I meant food, p, please," I explain in a scared voice, I'm so afraid of making the smallest mistake. She is standing so close I can feel the heat emanating from her body and I can smell her musky scent, thoughts flash through my mind; Thoughts of what I had done just minutes before, how I thought that I would hate it, how I thought I would throw up but how proud of myself I was when she orgasmed.

Without conscious thought I lean forward and gently, almost lovingly kiss her pussy. I don't know why I'm doing it, I think I must be trying to please her in the hope she will show me some compassion. Even so I can feel my pulse beating faster. I hear a sharp intake of breath and she pulls my mouth hard against her, and as if it has a mind of its own my tongue slides between her lips and the tip flicks over her clit.

"Mmmm. That's nice; I really do believe you like this don't you?" she teases, then she chuckles and pushes me back onto my heels "we'll get you dressed first then find us something to eat," I am both ashamed and elated; ashamed about the way I have so easily been defeated, how I am so eager to please her and how I seem to become aroused doing something that just minutes ago I considered repulsive. But I am elated at the prospect of wearing clothes again, just to be treated as a person again, could she be weakening? Is my ordeal coming to an end? I lick the wetness from my lip, tasting her again and I kneel patiently as she resumes what she was doing.

oOo

"Open," I hold my jaws wide with my head tilted back waiting to be fed like a small chick in the nest. She drops a piece of toast spread with marmalade into my mouth and I chew and swallow greedily, I feel absurdly grateful to her for feeding me, I want to thank her but she holds the rim of a glass to my lips and I sip the milk offered.

We are in the kitchen and she is sitting at the table eating a late breakfast while I kneel obediently at her side. She chats about mundane things as if we are just two friends enjoying a snack together. She eventually mentions the economy and sounds bitter when she talks about how few job opportunities there are "But you would know all about that wouldn't you? Even though you couldn't care less," and spitefully she slaps me on the head, I yelp but I believe I have a clue as to why she is doing this to me.

Her mood has changed now; once again she is the victim looking for revenge. She stands and noisily clears away the breakfast things, my blindfold has been moved slightly when she slapped me and I can see a sliver of light at the bottom, I say nothing, it is the only advantage I have had since she took possession of me. I watch her feet clad in black high heels walk across in front of me, I am careful not to move my head; I don't want to give her a hint that I can see, no matter how limited my vision.

As I look down I am able to see something of the 'clothes' she has dressed me in, the short black corset that she laced so tight, what I thought was a bra is in fact a mesh of thin straps which emphasize my breasts and leave them exposed and vulnerable, I can see the tops of the stockings around my thighs but not my shoes, my feet are tucked up behind me but I can feel the tall thin heels digging into my bottom, they are higher than I would normally wear and I have trouble keeping my balance when walking in them.

She informed me earlier that I wasn't permitted to wear panties. I can also just see the belt buckled around my waist and my hands flapping uselessly at the sides, each wrist locked into a chrome cuff attached to the side of the belt. It was so good to have my hands at last released but I am again as helpless as ever, my collar completes my costume but for the clamps; I can see them now, they're pink with small round silver bells, the kind a kitten would play with.

I hate the bells, every tinkle reminds me of how my breasts are moving and bouncing. She loves them, she told me so, she plays a game; she will flick my nipple to make the bell ring and that's the signal for me to shake my chest, it's humiliating and painful as the clamps bite on my sore nipples.

This started only an hour ago and already I respond immediately, I have learnt quickly, her training is working well.

"Come on slut, we've lots to do," she grips my upper arm and roughly pulls me up, in the ridiculous heels I tower over her but I feel infinitely inferior.

With a tug on the leash I stumble forward and I have to trust her that I won't walk into anything. I hear her close a door behind me and then she removes my blindfold, we are at the top of some stairs with another door at the bottom, the light is dim but I know we are about to enter the basement again. This is one place I don't want to go and I try to hold back but she tugs the leash and glowers at me. Pathetically I shake my tits trying to appease her but she ignores me and leads me down, I look at the approaching doorway as though it is a sign of my impending doom and I am compelled to speak.

"Please Mistress, I'll be good, I promise I'll make it up to you, whatever I did, please don't hurt me anymore," I can't stop myself, my legs are shaking, I'm almost on the verge of panic.

She stops and turns to me, I shrink back thinking she will slap me but her mood changes again as if someone has flicked a switch

"Oh my sweet sweet Darby, you look so frightened," she moves in close and strokes my cheek, her lips are almost touching my mouth "I like it, it excites me when you are frightened," when her lips press against mine I automatically close my eyes and open my mouth to accept her tongue. The kiss is brief but she stays close, her lips move against mine as she speaks "you are right to be frightened, you have a lot to be frightened of," and she jerks me into the room. I stumble after her, I can hear my heart beating and my blood pounding but it doesn't drown out the sound of the hated bells.

oOo

"Ugghh. Please Mistress it hurts," I am ashamed of my begging but I can't help it, my shoulders feel like they will dislocate at any second.

When we entered her dungeon, for that's how I think of this room, she strapped my elbows again but released my hands, I don't know if I'm grateful or not; my wrists had become so sore but now there is more pain in my upper arms.

"Place your palms together," she ordered, I obeyed, I have learnt not to hesitate when she commands me.

The single glove slid easily up my arms and she spent a long time buckling it securely and lacing it tight, and all the time she talked to me, telling me how she loves to tie me and how beautiful I am in bondage, how my body was made to be tied. It's not what I want to hear but I think she really means it. With my arms pulled together my breasts push forward into the straps encasing them and she casually strokes them, squeezes and jiggles them, my clamped breasts are no more than toys to her. I don't protest, there's no point, I would only make my situation worse. A three foot spreader bar holds my feet wide apart and she pulls down a rope with a hook on the end, attaching it to a ring on the end of the glove she hauls my arms up and I am forced to bend forward.

"Ugghh. Please Mistress it hurts."

"I know my sweet, but it pleases me and you haven't even begun to atone for your sins."

Her hands run over my body caressing my taut skin and stretched muscles, I whimper as her long fingernails scrape lightly down between my buttocks and through my labia, and I yelp shrilly when those same nails grip and squeeze my clitoris.

"Every bit of pleasure has to be tempered with pain Darby darling, You must learn to be humble and to earn the pleasure I give," to my ears it sounds like the ramblings of a mad person but I can't deny my body and what I feel; I am in pain and discomfort but in my head I am willing her to touch me.

oOo

"This is so nice Darby, you look so sexy the way your arms and legs are stretched, it makes me think I want to keep you," she is squatting before me holding my head up by my hair so I am looking at her. She is wearing a catsuit, the shiny black latex clings to her body like a second skin and the neckline is cut into a deep 'V' between her breasts. Even in my desperate situation I can't help comparing her lithe body with my more mature form. She smiles in my face and ties something into my hair to keep my head up.

As she walks away, I watch her go, marvelling at her sleek form which seems to sway and ripple, every step is like a majestic performance. When she returns she stands facing me and licks her lips, I can't seem to tear my eyes away from that red mouth. Her words 'keep you' echo inside my head like an alarm bell, I am in pain and I know it's going to get worse but I stare at her glistening lips and can only think of how they felt against my own.

"What shall we start with my sweet? Which do you think will help you to be humble, to be contrite?" she holds out her hands; from the right hangs a strap with the biggest dildo I have ever seen, the left holds the handle of a whip, it's many tails cascade down and over her fist. I know I should be more frightened than I am but I am resigned to my fate, I watch her in silence, I have no answer because I know I will be feeling both very soon no matter what I say.

ooOOoo

Her body is confined in a state of utter helplessness. The black leather of the armbinder contrasts so beautifully with her pale skin and its sprinkling of freckles. She squirms a little as she looks wide eyed at the choice before her. She is not sure whether the question is rhetorical or not. I am a capricious woman and top marks to little Darby for spotting that most fundamental facet of my character. She chooses the wisest path and remains silent. Her eyes are fixed on me, red rimmed and blurry with her tears.

I smile sweetly, lips pulling back over my teeth. I feel an urge to bite that pleading, desperate face, take her lips between my teeth and let her know how much power I hold over her.

Time stretches as I watch her, like a cat stalking a cornered mouse.

"A wise decision dear Darby," I purr. She swallows as the tension releases, a small sob escaping her quivering lips.

"Because......of course we will be using both toys."

Her eyes widen in horror as she again contemplates the dildo, hanging dark and ominous. In the light of the basement it gleams. I shake my head slowly and those scared blue orbs swivel to regard the whip.

"The whip first Item think. It serves well to get the slut into the right frame of mind, don't you think?"

The look in her eyes makes my insides clench and I almost stagger. My arousal is coming on fast now and sadism rises like a wraith within me. I straighten, character shifting once more and she begins to weep quietly as she regards the change. She shivers and cannot help jerking at her bonds but she is tied well by an expert and can barely move. The bells ring mockingly, the sound track to her torment. She will come to recognise this shift well as it bodes badly for her.

I put down the whip and stand in front of her, so she can watch me, horrified as I strap the harness around my hips, the thick dildo standing out threateningly from my groin. I buckle the straps and adjust the cock patiently. I step forward until my cock is right in front of her face and she closes her eyes knowing what is coming but unable to prevent it.

"You know what to do," my voice is uninflected and the moment stretches endlessly until she conjures the will to open her mouth and enfold the gleaming head between her soft sweet lips. Her eyes open and she looks shyly up at me, the thick shaft cushioned by her teeth.

"Suck it."

She stretches her bound body, straining a little to encompass the dildo deeper into her mouth and begins to work her lips and tongue on it. Her eyes have closed again in deep shame and I tell her to open them. She complies. Her tear-filled eyes, her hair beginning to become lank and unkempt with sweat and heat and fear, each arouse me further.

"Harder, deeper Darby, Suck it like you mean it," she sobs and obeys, making desperate love to the dildo, accompanied by the teasing tinkling of the little bells on her nipples. She is red with embarrassment now. A flush stretches from her forehead to the middle of her chest. Tears run down her cheeks.