[Author's note: This story was originally posted in "Lesbian Sex", but due to the heavy sadomasochistic themes of the series, I have moved it to "BDSM".]
*****
--Dr Isabella Pacetti's Notes:
To recap: Katy has introduced Sophie to the cellar of Mrs Alderney's house, a room which is effectively a dungeon. Unable to explain her motivation, confused by her nerves and feeling teased by her friend, she lashes out and insults Sophie. Not remotely hurt by the insult and forgiving her immediately, Sophie nevertheless uses this as an excuse to promise Katy more punishment. Katy is delighted.
The apparent sadism of the following events may appear brutal, but I hope it is clear that these women are all consenting adults fulfilling their desires.
--Katy's Statement:
The remainder of my afternoon was busy. I had neglected or messed up most of my chores all day, and now I had to get all of Sophie's bedding washed and dried and returned to her room before six o'clock. At six I had to prepare and serve the evening meals. At seven o'clock I had to report to the cellar.
I made Sophie's bed and briefly tidied the room, not disturbing the unpacked shopping bags. I noted they were expensive-looking bags, with the branding of quite exclusive clothing and shoe shops. Sophie had spent a lot of money today. I was fascinated by what she might have bought, and I longed to peek inside, but I didn't dare, and I didn't have time.
I cooked a light meal of grilled fresh fish, a recipe I'm quite good at. I know I'm a mediocre cook (though a lot better than when I started at Mrs Alderney's) and I wanted to do nothing to spoil things.
I served up two dishes -- unable to face any food myself -- and was preparing to take them to wherever my mistresses were eating tonight, when I heard the clip-clip of shoes on the kitchen floor behind me. I turned to see Sophie, dressed as she had been all day in her clinging blouse and trousers and her stiletto boots. She crossed the floor with a dry smile on her face and a tall glass of white wine in her hand.
"Good evening Katy," said Sophie, grinning. "That smells lovely. I'll eat mine here, thank you. Mrs Alderney will have hers in the office."
I nodded and arranged a knife and fork around one of the plates. I scooped up the other and hurried into the office.
Mrs Alderney was seated behind her desk, reading, but unusually she had a bottle of wine open on the desk beside her, and a half-full glass in her hand.
"Thank you, Katy. How was your day?"
I arranged plate and cutlery and stood back, wringing my hands absent-mindedly.
"Well, good, I think, Madame. Erm. But Miss Sophie wants me to go to the cellar at seven. Erm. If that's all right."
Mrs Alderney paused with her glass touching her lip.
"Of course it is. Her Key, her cellar, her Katy. I hope you don't question her actions to her face. Or is that why she is taking you to the cellar? No..." She held up a warning hand as my mouth opened "...it's of no consequence. Just try to be attentive."
"Yes Madame. Thank you. Will you be having a sweet course?"
"I don't think so, thank you." She glanced at her watch. "You have a quarter of an hour, Katy. You should go and see that Miss Burton has everything she needs, then go and make yourself presentable. Please try to be on you best behaviour. I believe she will be looking for faults."
I felt a sudden chill. They had been sharing a drink, hadn't they? "What..? Has she told you that?"
"No Katy," Mrs Alderney smiled, "she has told me she will be punishing you this evening, that's all."
"Did she... did she tell you why?"
"Katy, I know nothing of what has gone between you, beyond what I can read on your body. Nor have I asked. I think you should be attending to Miss Burton, don't you?"
"Yes Madame. Thank you..."
--
Sophie wasn't in the kitchen. Half a glass of wine and half a plate of food were on the table. I looked around in a panic, as though I might find some trace of her. The clock still said ten-to-seven. Then I heard clip-clip on the stone steps to the cellar and Sophie emerged.
"It's unlocked," she said coolly, "if you've finished all your chores you can go down and wait for me." She slid back onto a chair and continued to eat.
"I... I should wash up when you've eaten. And Madame—"
Sophie waved dismissively. "No, that can wait. I'd like you to spend some time in the cellar, thinking. You can go down, stand facing the tool racks and look at the contents. Consider each one. Think about how it might feel to wear the restraints. Try to imagine how the whips feel, if you don't know already. Do you understand?"
"Yes Miss Sophie. Thank you." I was shivering. I looked at her, desperately wishing she would hold me and soothe me. So I thrilled when she looked up and smiled gently.
"Don't wind yourself up again, Katy." She held out her hand and I took it. I was gently squeezed. "I'm not angry, remember. This afternoon you practically begged me to take you down there and hurt you. This is all your choice. You can think about that while you're down there, too."
This wasn't quite the reassurance I had been seeking, but it was entirely true. I nodded, mumbled my thanks and pattered towards the cellar.
--
I looked at the restraints, the harnesses, the spacer bars, and I dutifully pictured how each could be used the shape me and pose me. How they would expose my most intimate, delicate parts to the easy cruelty of a barely interested mistress. How they would make me wriggle like a worm, or flail uselessly like an upturned beetle or dangle like a fish on a line. I could be twisted, pinned, opened wide. I would be an object.
I had already sat and thought about all of these things. I had lain in bed and thought about them... Of course, they had been fantasy objects then; Madame had never shown any interest in actually using most of them.
I didn't honestly know how most of the whips would feel. I knew that there were floggers and beaters that were designed to be noisy and scary but do little harm. I also knew there were serious weapons - like the cane, the crop, and the cat -- which could cut me and scar me if they were used correctly. I had suffered their kind of pain often enough of course, but until the previous night I didn't realise there were whole landscapes of agony still to be mapped out on my body. I looked at my hands and saw they were shaking. I seemed to have no blood in me. I felt sick.
I heard the clip-clip on the stairs and made an involuntary sobbing sound. I stood up very straight and faced the wall.
The footsteps travelled to one of the high stools on the opposite side of the room. Something in my head was telling me something was wrong, but I couldn't concentrate on anything but my nerves.
Then I heard a similar clip-clip on the stairs and I realised Miss Sophie was not sitting behind me. I spun on the spot and saw Mrs Alderney perched demurely on the stool, sipping at a full glass of wine. She was dressed in her office clothes, the dark suit and skirt, dark sheer stockings and low-heeled shoes. I gaped. Mrs Alderney looked impassively at me and made a tiny gesture with a finger: turn around.
I turned, and now my jaw was quivering. I stared blindly ahead as Sophie entered the room.
"Hello Mrs Alderney. Are you comfortable there or would you prefer the Throne?"
