Carol 2

I was just sitting, having a drink with some friends when she came into the club. I barely noticed her except that leather is unusual there.

An extremely large woman, well over 6', but her chocolate colored skin contrasted nicely with the shade of blue leather she wore. Nothing extreme, to be sure, a tight fitting bolero jacket, white blouse, but her rather prominent butt was a strain for the mid thigh skirt. She also had large silver earrings dangling from her lobes, her eyes hidden behind wraparound sunglasses.

Sally leant toward me and said, "Carol, that's Esther, you are not ogling, dear. From what I hear, she is a bit dominant, so watch your step."

Thanking her, I continued our conversation, basically ignoring the newcomer.

The music was dull, and everything Sally, Claire and I had to say except for current problems of finding decent women for dating had been over a thousand times, so after another half hour I excused myself to leave. I gathered my coat and steeled myself to go out in the nearly zero weather.

Just as I moved past the bar to the door I felt a tug at my arm and the words, "Hey, beautiful, I think I can help you find what you are really looking for. I know I like that dark brown hair and eyes, and your ass would be just perfect."

I turned and looked into a pair of sunglasses. The nose under them was not overly broad, but the deeply painted red lips were full and stretched not so much into a smile, as into a leer.

"And just what might that be?" I said.

A cold chill ran down my spine, and not just from the blast of freezing air from the open door as a gaggle of curiosity seekers looked in at the "gay girls".

As though it was a cue, the big black woman leaned forward and, holding my chin in her hand, pressed her lips to mine. She quickly thrust her tongue into my mouth, driving my tongue back, near choking me.

A combination of surprise, chill from the open door, humiliation of the peering eyes and curiosity filled me at once.

"Close your coat, girl. You're coming with me," she said.

My mouth opened and closed, and I zipped my parka-like coat as she swept off the bar stool and pushed past the crowd at the door which Brianna, the 6'2" bouncer was dispersing to allow us to egress. She threw her long leather coat over her shoulders and I followed.

She turned right, up Halsted Street, the garish blue lighting making the snow piled on the sidewalk an eerie color. I was hard pressed to keep up as I watched her hips sway under the long coat, her boots crunching the packed snow. She waited at the corner and took my arm in her fingers as we turned down Aldine.

Esther tightened her grip as we neared the middle of the long block and steered me to an incongrous wooden building set well back from the street. There were a few lights in windows, and a stout wooden door up five stairs. She opened the door without using a key and as soon as the door swung closed on well oiled hinges shrugged her shoulders and her coat fell to the foyer floor.

"Pick that up, girl, and take off your coat.

"While you're at it, get rid of the rest of your clothes."

I turned on my heel, only to discover the door had locked behind us.

"I have no idea just what you think you are doing, but open this door, I demanded.

"I am not interested in anything you may have in mind."

"Yes you are, girl. I saw it in your eyes from 30 feet away. Now get out of those clothes and be quick about it."

She darted her hand out and slapped my face.

I put my hand on my cheek...it was just a sharp sting, not really painful.

Esther turned and went through the pocketdoorway to the right.

I bent to retrieve her coat and found a mirrored hall chair with ornate hooks on the sides. I hung the leather coat and looked into the mirror. I looked like a bundle of fur and took off my coat, hanging it also.

My face was puffy and slightly swollen on the left side. I watched my fingers unbutton my blouse and unsnap my skirt. Drawing them off I also hung them on hooks.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I released the front hook of my pale yellow bra and watched distantly as this subdued woman's breasts tumbled free. Her hands rolled matching panties down to reveal a full winter growth of brown fur. I sat between the arms of the hall chair and removed my shoes and stockings.

I was lost in my thoughts when I heard, "Get your white ass in here," from the next room.

When I hesitantly walked through the large doorway, I saw her, sunglasses off,, the softest brown eyes and longest eyelashes I have ever seen on a woman. She had removed her blouse and put back her bolero jacket, her pendulous breasts free beneath the tight blue garment. She stood with her thighs stretching the short leather skirt....I noticed, really for the first time, she wore knee length black boots with five inch heels. She must have changed them, it was impossible to walk through the snow in those thin heels.

Also, in her hand was a leather riding crop.

"Stand still, girl, she ordered. "Fingers interlaced behind your head. Let me get a good look at those tits."

I stood with my hands behind my head like a prisoner, legs parted, a cold shiver running through my body as she approached and trailed the crop over my skin as she tapped on her heels, circling me. She lightly struck me with the loop of the crop, on my left shoulder, my right hip, my left outer thigh. Each blow substantial, but not painful.

I had played this game before, but only played, with the full consent and knowledge of a former lover, Astrid. I had been the one in command, though, and that was only play, not the semi-menace I felt from Esther.

I winced and she bunched my hair in her fist, stretched my neck and whispered in my ear, "Not a sound unless Daddy tells you to speak, girl. Not a movement. Nothing unless Daddy tells you to do something."

I felt genuine fear now.

My whole body felt a cold chill. My mouth dried. What had I let myself into?

"Please, Esther, I don't want to do this."

"Bitch! Daddy did not give you permission to speak. And never, ever, call me anything but Daddy."

With that she brought the crop down on my sensitive nipples. The loop snapping and rebounding over and over until I felt a blazing fire.

"I know you. Some sort of lesbian hoi poloi, all gooey and femme. You need a strong hand, girl."

The diminutive stung worse than the crop. She had reduced me to subservience by stripping me of my womanhood.

Esther released my hair and my head snapped forward, I caught myself and moved my left foot to break my fall. Fearing the worst, I was surprised that this lapse did not evoke additional abuse, neither verbal, nor the now half anticipated leather riding crop. Fortunately, my fingers stayed interlaced behind my neck and I quickly recovered my stance.

When I entered the room my eyes were on Esther, and I had not noticed the devices scattered with a certain symmetry. I looked into the mirrored wall in front of me and saw in one corner a simple straight backed wooden chair, against a dark stained wood wall an "X" frame, ominous ropes suspended from the upper arms. There was also a wooden platform, and two saw horse-like things separated about two feet from each other. The most frightening, though strangely thrilling was an assortment of leather, knotted rope, and wooden whips and paddles attached to a velvet trimmed board.

There was also a table covered in a blue silk cloth, bumps and indentations hidden, but portentious.

My eyes refocused and I saw that Esther had removed her jacket, brown pendulous breasts now swayed as she walked to the table and slid her hand under the cloth. Her hand cupped to hide whatever she had taken out, she returned to me.

"Now, bitch, what do you want from Daddy? Do you want to suck on my pussy?"

"Yes, Esther, oh yes if that is what you want."

"You stupid bitch! Who are you talking to?"

Her eyes were on fire, and I quickly corrected myself, trembling, "Daddy! Whatever Daddy wants from her girl!"

She took my hands from my neck and wrenched my arms back and down. Somehow she found thin ropes, it felt like nylon cord, and quickly bound my wrists.

She stood in front of me, her booted feet pushing my legs wider. Her fingers found my parted labia and for the first time I realized how wet I was. Her three bronze fingers slid up and into me quickly, slickly. Her dark nippled breasts pushed my smaller ones.

I moaned, then she gripped her fingers against the heel of her hand and a sharp wall of pain overcame me.

I felt a sharper pain and Esther withdrew two feet, she looked down and nodded to the mirror. I looked and a heavy appearing clamp was gripping my engorged clitoris. I felt not only the grip of the teeth, but the weight tugging my engorged pearl downward. My eyes teared, and I felt a slap, "Daddy, did not give you permission to cry, girl."

What did she want from me? My mind raced, had I ever said anything, or even noticed her before?

"I know what you're thinking. 'Why me?' Cause you are a stuck up lesbian whore, Carol, someone who uses women and discards them. Now it is you who will wonder when she will be tossed aside, discarded, thrown out. But that won't be till Daddy decides you are tamed."

She slapped my breasts, making them batter together, her big hands covering the entire mass. I fought back tears, determined not to let this brown woman see me weaken. I lifted my chin, defiantly. Esther immediately became calmer, she smirked.

"You are trying to play me, girl," the leather clad woman said menacingly.

She took my elbow in her hand and as she squeezed, walked briskly, so fast I had to stand on my toes to follow. My flesh was on fire from her slaps, my temples throbbing, my mouth dry. We stopped beside the closer of the saw horses and she pushed me forward, my waist bending over the rough wooden beam.

I tried to breathe but the posture made it nearly impossible to breathe normally, especially with my arms pulled so tight behind me. I felt my hair pulled into a braid and what felt like an elastic band gather it.

I winced when my head was pulled back and I felt a binding attached to the ropes at my wrists, holding my head looking forward. Esther moved around to stand between me and the mirrored wall in which I could see myself hopelessly bound. Holding her breasts in too small hands, she moved to rub the tips against my lips, teasingly. I tried to capture either, but she only allowed me the barest touch.

"You have to earn that, bitch, she hissed, "You will beg to suck my tits."

My head was jerked back as I felt the restraints pull my hair. I gasped, and expected another slap but Esther only laughed when she saw the look of pain in my face.

She had placed me so my waist was against the cross bar of the horse, the distance must have been measured between the two horses as my breasts touched only the air, but the second horse was touching at my sternum. My legs trembled as I felt the discomfort of strained muscles in calves and the backs of my thighs. Once more she moved, her booted feet pushed my feet to the legs of the horses and I felt, and saw in the mirror, as she squatted and quickly tied my ankles to the legs.

What surprised me next was that I felt her tongue tracing the outline of my still wet pussy, she breathed in deeply and forced the tip of her rubbery feeling tongue between the lips. Then I felt the sting of her hands driving a tattoo on my uplifted asscheeks. Right, left, right, left. Over and over, countless slaps. Stinging, open palmed drumming on my bum.

I tried to kick with my feet, but the bindings made that impossible, my arms strained and my breasts beat against the wood of the sawhorse as I felt the burning in my ass.

Her tongue returned to my pussy, driving in relentlessly. Then a repeat of her slapping stings on my vulnerable ass.

"Don't you dare cum, you queer white bitch. Daddy will be very angry if you do."

With those words a flood gushed from my spasming inner pussy The clamp on my clit was maddeningly tight, and as I felt a blinding, shuddering orgasm I also felt Esther's hand pull the clamp from my by now nearly raw nub.

I let out a scream. Crying and flopping against my bonds and the fire in my sore ass, my still enflamed nipples sore and throbbing.

"I told you, girl," Esther said with a menacing tone.

"You still resist calling, thinking of me as your Daddy, don't you, girl?"

"You think you are too good to be my girl, my toy."

She then walked to the panel and took down a long supple wooden rod, easily 3/8 of an inch thick, but flexible.

She swung the wooden dowel through the air and then stepped to my left side. Her muscular arm rose and I closed my eyes, cringing before the first blow.

"No, girl, open your eyes. Look into the mirror. Watch as I make you understand just what you are, my bitch, my girl, my toy."

I opened my eyes and felt my lips quivering. Her arm rose again and in a flash of an instant the rod fell, slamming into my upraised ass, stinging, making my flesh burn.

As I watched and felt the grueling punishment I never thought anyone could endure, I also watched Esther in the mirrored wall, her lips curled in a sardonic pleasure, her ebony breasts glistening with sweat as she drove the rod again and again against my abused body.

She slashed over my asscheeks, over my thighs and calves. I cried and screamed. She continued until I lost all will to protest. I fell into a near stupor. I was disembodied. I began to see the two women as images only, separate from the reality of Esther and Carol.

The room was filled with a single repeated word reverberating from the walls, the floor and ceiling.

"DADDY, DADDY,DADDY."

(Purely invention. Please let me know if you found this at all interesting, and wish to see more. Also thanks to our editor, Marian, for catching the errors, as usual.)