Anyone for Tennis Dennis?

Anyone for Tennis, Menace, Dennis?

By Nikki Kernovii

Chapter 14--Plotting The Curve

The next morning was a flurry of activity. After quick ablutions and breakfast, Dennis let me wear the dress I had brought with me. At least it covered the red marks that lingered on my skin.

The drive to the airport, in the light drizzle, was uneventful.

Passage through the airport seemed easier than it had been in England, and then the plane that we boarded was different to the one we had arrived on last Thursday.

"Mr Smith apologises for the double booking." The cabin crew lady said as we boarded. "Emergency customers. He asks that you call him as soon as you can at your convenience."

"No problem." Dennis was as smooth as ever.

We noticed a very glamourous lady wearing dark glasses and an expensive looking coat, with a smartly dressed man sitting next to her.

Dennis nodded a cool greeting as we were guided to seats on the opposite side.

As soon as we had sat, Dennis got his phone out.

"Bonjour Phillip."

I can occasionally understand French when it is spoken slowly.

Dennis talked to this Phillip chap at 90 miles an hour.

I tuned out to study our fellow travellers.

They were both staring at us.

Dennis was dressed as smart and expensive as usual, but Remy, Amelie and I were more casual, and dare I say, more cheaply. We did not look like we belonged on an expensive private jet.

I felt like taking my dress off just to spite them.

"So, it seem that my friend Phillip is busy." Dennis said, as he put his phone back in to his pocket. "There is big meeting in Davos. Big meeting in Brussels and many popular singers singing. They all move this week. Phillip and all his pilots a very busy. So we share today." He said this slightly louder than was necessary. Probably for the benefit of our other passengers.

Further conversation was silenced by the roar of the engines as we raced down the runway and took off.

I loved that feeling. That push back in the seats. The lurch in the stomach. That momentary feeling that we were about to defy gravity.

As soon as the plane levelled off, the crew were as attentive, the food and drink as good, as we had on the first plane on our way out to France.

But we could not play.

I was partly missing it, but also partly grateful for a time to let my abused body recover.

In England I had been seeing Dennis once or twice a week, so had plenty of recovery time. The last four days had been hectic. A lot of fun. More orgasms than I would have thought possible, but also very tiring.

I think Dennis was a little disappointed. But he also seemed lost in thought.

"You are worried?" I asked.

"Yes." He admitted with a sigh. "I am thinking about Alice and Mr Armstrong. I have done business with Mr Armstrong. I do not think it was all a good thing."

"You worry about Alice?"

"Yes." Dennis said, "I do. I do not know what I did. I do not know how to put this right? I must speak to my friend Michael. He is 'Master M' at my party. With your friend 'Slut EM'. Michael does business also. He, it is who sent Mr Armstrong to me. I sold one of my factories. You remember this. Non?."

"I remember the meeting. I had no idea what it was you were doing." I said.

"Armstrong is not very honest. He import meubles, err... furniture. From Russia. I think."

"So is he a Master as well?" I asked.

"Maybe. Perhaps. Perhaps Not. Michael has seen him at meetings. At Parties in other cities. I must ask him more."

"Emma said that you were my Master. Are you?"

"No. No. I like to spank. I like to control. For Sandrine I was Master. For Alice, maybe, perhaps, I was Master... Almost. But... But... I cannot do this as Master Michael does this. I feel I want to be Master for you, but..." he looked lost in thought.

"You're scared, aren't you?" I said in sudden realisation. "Scared of losing me. Scared of losing control."

"This perhaps is the way it is." Dennis said with a sigh.

"You still love Sandrine. Amelie said you do."

Dennis looked at me.

Were those nearly tears in his eyes?

"Yes. My Little-one. I do still love Sandrine. I love her enough to let her go to marry a good man. A man who can be for her what she needs. What I cannot be."

I hugged close to him.

"I'm so sorry Dennis. I'm not sure I understand. I've only had one person that I thought I loved. Until now. I am as lost as you are."

"Yes." He agreed, quietly.

We hugged each other in silence.

At the Airport we all cleared the customs control, then the three of us waited, while Remy went to collect the car.

The drive back to my tiny little English village was uneventful. The weather was dreary and dull and seemed to dull conversation.

Dennis hugged me. He did make a couple of phone calls. But we were both lost in our own worlds.

From so high to so low.

As we neared my cottage, Dennis said. "I will see you this weekend. I will tell you this week. How. Where. When this will be."

"Ok." I tried to hide my disappointment.

"Cheer up. Little one." He kissed me on the forehead. "We can still play. I cannot find you an oak tree. But maybe I find other things."

I did smile at that.

"Thank you. And thank you for a lovely weekend. It was good to meet Sandrine. And to see your house and your... your Happy place."

"Yes. That is my 'Happy Place.'" He said. "But you too. You make me happy."

Remy stopped outside my cottage. I had a small handbag as my only luggage.

"Take care my little on." Dennis said. He handed me a small package. Then blew me a kiss as they drove away.

Oh well.

It had been such a fun and hectic weekend. My first trip outside of England.

I did not have much to unpack.

The package that Dennis had given me in the car, turned out to contain a couple of sets of fancy underwear by the Aubade brand. An Ivory pair of knickers to replace the ones he had cut up, during our second meeting. These were accompanied by a matching Ivory bra. In My size!!! Damn he was good.

But there was also another Bra and Panties in Coral pink. I loved them.

Tuesday back at work was so unbelievably tedious.

Mr Connor and Megan wanted to know about my weekend. All I could do was describe the places and the food.

What I had done, and the best parts of the weekend were too much for their ears.

I wasn't even sure how much I could tell Sarah.

As I was thinking it all through during my dinner that night, I determined to speak to Emma. I had promised to after the party. And she had given me her details.

During a quite spell on Wednesday, I called Emma's number.

"Hi. It's Emma." Said a bouncy voice from the other end.

"Hi Emma. It's Julie."

"Julie." She nearly screamed down the phone. "I'm so glad to hear you. I was so worried. I thought we had gone too far after the party and you didn't want to be my friend after all."

"No. It's not that at all. I really do want to get together. As soon as you can. I've been busy. But I have so many questions. And so much to talk about."

"Tonight. Tonight is a quiet night." She said.

"Maybe. Can you come to mine?"

"I would have to check with my Master. Mike would want to know. Can you come to our place?"

"Where?"

She gave me her address.

"That sounds close." I told her where I was working.

"Gods I can't believe I haven't seen you. You're about ten minutes' walk from our house. Why don't you come round after work? I'll cook dinner. Oh and Julie?" She asked then paused.

"Yes."

"Are you still on a... you know?... orgasm limit? Does Dennis need to give you permission?"

"Ha. Shh you." I Chuckled. "My boss might be listening. But no. I don't think so."

"Just checking. Maybe nothing. Maybe something. Best to check. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah. Catch you just after six-ish."

"Sure. Take care." I think she even blew a kiss over the phone.

Well that cheered me up.

I left my car in the work car parking space, as it was away from the street and pretty safe.

After I had rung the bell to the house Emma had indicated, the door opened. And there was Emma, as naked as she had been at Dennis's party.

"Gods Emma, don't you wear any clothes?" I asked, looking around to see who might be about to notice. The house was a reasonable size. But it was only set back from the road by a very small front garden. There was a low front wall and a hedge. But not a lot of shelter from prying eyes.

"Not a lot." She said with a beaming smile. "When I told Master you were coming round, he told me to greet you like this. It's not so unusual."

"I was a bit like that over last weekend. Dennis took me to France. With no clothes. Well I had a summer dress that got confiscated before we even boarded the plane."

"Naked on a plane? You're kidding! Bloody hell. I would love to have seen that." She dragged me inside and shut the door.

"It was a private plane." I said. "Dennis knows someone who does that sort of thing."

"I guess that makes a difference. But even so?"

Yeah even so.

I told her all about my weekend.

Over a cup of tea.

I continued with a quick recap when Mike came in.

I had only briefly met him at the party, but he turned out to be really nice. He had a presence. A man who was used to being in charge. Not quite so solid and drop dead gorgeous as Dennis, but a really nice guy.

Emma carried on cooking. I continued with my story.

Mike stopped me long enough to make a phone call.

After some words he handed the phone to me.

"Me?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Hello." I said hesitantly.

"Hello little one. You are with Master Mike and Slut Emma?" It was Dennis.

"Yes." I said.

"Good. Their house, their rules. You answer to Master Mike as you answer to me. He can do anything short of... of rapport sexuel. Of intercourse. No fucking. You understand?" His voice sounded like his usual commanding self. Gods I loved it when he was like that.

But Really? Mike in charge like Dennis had been? Really? He could do anything?

"Yes." I gulped. "Of course."

"Good. My Little-one. I see you on Friday evening. You tell me. I think we see Master Mike and Emma also."

Mike took the phone. There was some more conversation.

I sat in a daze.

When there was silence, Mike said "So My House My Rules. First- No clothes. Beside you are too pretty and have too sexy a body to keep it hidden."

"Yes." I gulped again, blushing deeply.

Yes, I know I got excited from being exposed, but it still made me blush.

"And orders are answered with Yes Master. Or yes Sir. Aren't they slut?" he addressed this last bit to Emma.

"Yes Master." She said with practiced gleefulness.

"Yes Sir." I corrected myself. Then began to remove my work clothes.

It should not have bothered me. I had been naked most of the weekend. In front of a Plane's cabin-crew. In front of Sandrine and her husband Eric. In front of Remy and Amelie.

But MASTER Mike?

It felt different for a reason I could not explain.

"He's right you know." Emma said, as the last of my clothes were placed in a pile by the door. "If you were my slut I would keep you naked too. I love your body. You look good enough to eat. And I might well get to do that later." She snickered.

"Behave yourself slut. That is not your choice." Mike reprimanded her.

"No Master. It is yours. But I bet you would enjoy it." She was being so cheeky.

"I might. But you are working towards a punishment spanking, and not a fun one. Now behave and finish getting dinner."

Emma pouted "Yes Sir." But she did continue with the dinner preparations, while I sat, naked, on a chair in the kitchen, where I continued with the story of my Weekend.

"A Zen like out of body experience? Wow." Emma said with a note of jealousy in her voice.

"I've nearly been there. In Sub-space. But not quite like that. You get to do all the best stuff. That sounds amazing."

"Yes. It was. Like nothing else." I agreed.

"Wow. Indeed." Mike said. "Dennis must be so proud. To be able to do that. With such skill. To have such a response. I've always admired him. Both in business and the BDSM scene. But that does sound amazing."

I hadn't thought of it like that at all. Was that what it was to him? A Craftsmen honing his skill? Pride in his accomplishment? Like he had said to the Builder, Olivier. An Artists painting on skin?

I could picture his face as he had found out the things that had turned me on and space me out.

Yes, it seems to be like that.

He was a craftsman. His skill was not just his ability to control, but to wield just the right amount of pain, in the right situation. Or, as in the vacuum table, the ability to tease and push me, until I lost my mind.

Shortly after a very pleasant, if simple, dinner, Mike pointed to the sheepskin rug in the centre of the living room.

"Lay down there."

As soon as I was on the ground Mike tied a bamboo pole to my ankles keeping them as spread as my legs would go. He tied another bamboo pole to my wrists keeping them wide apart.

He then positioned Emma on top of me. Tying her wrists to my legs and her legs to my wrists.

"Start licking." He said. "The first one to orgasm, without permission, gets a punishment."

I pouted.

That was not fair.

I had fingered Emma in a shower. Once, -a month or so before. I had once, ONCE, kissed another woman's pussy. I had never been intimate with another woman other than that. Well Odile, I suppose, but we hardly touched each other.

Emma had admitted that she was Bisexual and had obviously had sex with other women. I had never asked how many.

The other thing was that she had gravity on her side. She could drop her head down between my legs. I was having to stretch upwards to reach Emma's pussy.

On the other hand, I knew I could not argue. And I did wonder about what sort of punishment I would not like. Emma did not get off on spanking the way I did. If he spanked me, I would probably like it.

Oh Well. Here we go.

I tried.

I tried to reach Emma's pussy lips, and started licking. Then I decided to copy whatever she was doing to me, and I would try doing that to her.

I mean we were both females and had pretty much the same anatomy. Right?

When Emma licked my pussy lips, I did the same for her. When she flickered her tongue closer to my opening, I returned the favour. When she kissed and sucked at my mound close to my clit, I copied and did the same to her. As she warmed and her lips spread and flattened, I could detect the moisture beginning to form. I thought that she was already wetter than I felt that I was.

I took hope from this.

I still continued to copy her: licking, sucking, kissing, and increasing the pressure and frequency as she warmed up. When Emma lightly bit at my pussy lip I jumped and felt a very sudden gush of moisture inside me.

Gods! How was that possible?

I hesitated to return the nip, but after a moment, when I had lost track and Emma repeated the action, I decided to copy anyway. She did not gush the way I had. She was not responding the way I was. I returned to licking and sucking as best I could. Her inner lips were long and thin. When I pursed these between my lips and sucked, Emma let out a long "hmmmmm"

I guessed she liked that, but I also noticed how much her hum of pleasure was like the motor of my trusty vibrator. That gave me an idea.

I pursed my mouth around her clit and hood and started humming "Calling Elvis" - my favourite Dire-Straits song.

That got her going. Oh yes. I was getting more confident and beginning to think that I might not lose this contest after all.

Emma cheated. She started humming a song against my pussy.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh god. That was wonderful.

I have no idea what it was she was humming, but I felt my arousal soar.

She nibbled on my clit hood and I lost it.

I couldn't keep on licking and sucking her as I gasped for breath.

Bugger!

I mean it was a nice orgasm and all. Not as good as some of the amazing ones I had had recently while being spanked or whipped, but every bit as good as anything I had had with a boyfriend.

But it also meant that Master Mike was going to find some means to punish me.

I lay there getting my breath back.

I could hear Emma giggle.

When I got my breath back and opened my eyes Mike was crouching next to me.

"You need to learn control. Cumming without permission is not allowed. My House, My rules."

"Oh God Yes. I'm sorry Master Mike." I managed to gasp out.

He held something in his hand. He clicked it. It looked like a standard sprung clothes peg.

I had a bag full of them at home for hanging out my washing I the back garden.

Mike moved to the other side of Emma, out of my eye-sight.

I felt his hand on my labia.

The next thing I felt was him closing the peg over my clit hood.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk"

That hurt. A lot. A fuck of a lot.

No that was not a pleasurable hurt.

It just hurt.

I could hear a distant sound in a distant galaxy.

"... Nineteen. Twenty." The voice said.

What was that? Twenty minutes? Probably twenty seconds, but it felt like ages.

And then the pain went away.

"Arrrgggghhh." I screamed again as the clip was removed.

"Please me. Obey me. And I will please you. Disobey or upset me and there will always be pain." Mike said.

"I got it. I understand. I'm sorry Master Mike. I'm not used to holding back." I said, speaking very fast and quite seriously.

"Then you need to learn. Emma is getting pretty good. Not quite at orgasm on command, but she is getting there. I don't have to punish her very often for that sort of infraction."

I couldn't see much, but I noticed that Mike had removed his trousers.

Over the top of Emma's body, I could see him kneel between my legs.

The sound was obvious. Emma was giving Mike a blow-job.

I just lay back and tried to recover. I could still feel the receding throbbing from my clitoris.

I really knew the difference between pain that was pleasurable and pain that just hurt.

I would certainly obey Master Mike in the future, for sure.

But how was I ever to learn to control when I do and do not orgasm?

Fuck!

Once Mike had come and put his trousers on again, he untied us two girls and let us relax.

Emma stretched then went to get us some tea.

"So what was that you were saying earlier about Remy and Amelie coming over to deal with Armstrong?" Mike asked.

I told him about Alice. And What Anton had said.

"I remember Alice." Emma said as she walked back into the room. "Dark haired, petite. Always looked a bit sad."

"Yes I DO remember her." Mike said thoughtfully. "And they think she is with Armstrong. I wouldn't trust him either."

"You know him?" I didn't know much about Mike's engineering business, or if he had any dealing with Dennis or the people Dennis knew.

"Met him a few times. And Dennis mentioned something when he invited us to his party last month. He didn't tell me what." He paused to sip his drink. "Back in the spring I had a couple of things... Three things, that coincided. The first is... We have a local Small Business Guild here, but there is a bigger one that meets twice a year in Birmingham. I wouldn't usually go that far. But the next day was Emma's Birthday, and I wanted to treat her."

"Oh yeah." She said. Eyes bright at some memory.

"That and the Maison de Sade meeting happened to be that Saturday. So, I drove to the Small Business Federation meeting in Birmingham with a hope of setting up some new contacts. About 70 or so business men and women get together to swap lies and business cards. The format is: a couple of people have applied to give a longer formal talk. These are about twenty minutes or so each. It's usually about their business. Lesson learned. The Market conditions in general. How they perceive the short to medium future. That sort of thing. Death by Powerpoint, to be honest. Then they have a section called 'Speed dating'. When everyone arrives, they put their business cards into a large bowl. The chairman pulls out five or six cards at random, and the owners of those cards are allowed to do a quick stand up and spiel about their business and why anyone should want to deal with them. Maximum of three minutes. After that, there is a break for tea and coffee and for people to mix. This is followed by a further session like the first. Armstrong was the second to last of the second session of 'Speed Dating'. He was into some sort of importing from the Eastern European Countries. Former Eastern-Bloc Soviet states and Russia I think. I would have forgotten him except that I saw him again later and the next day.