Gwen: Bound for a New Life

Gwen had settled into her new life at John's fine house, helping with young Tania's training, better than she would have thought possible. On John's frequent absences, she took Tania into her bed, so that her life was seldom without passion. After her first mild taste of punishment with the flogger, Tania craved more, and when John went away for two days, she asked Gwen if she would whip her as she had seen Gwen herself whipped. Gwen was reluctant at first, but when the pretty blonde begged her, she relented.

'Go and dress appropriately, then,' she said, 'you know what I mean.'

Gwen awaited her in the library. She was dressed in a short flared skirt and white blouse, with seamed nylons and high heels, and thought to herself that John would have been disappointed in her – she hadn't dressed the part, as a dominatrix, or anything dramatic like that – but this was strictly between herself and Tania, she decided.

But when Tania came in, she had observed 'house rules' and followed John's ritual requirements. She was clad in a long, fine, translucent silk, lace-edged negligee, fastened at the waist by a braided cord. Her pointed, firm breasts jutted proudly at the thin silk, and she had shackled her own long slender legs with a foot of silver chain, clipped to the rings in two silver ankle restraints. She wore white stiletto mules.

'I'm proud of you, Tania,' said Gwen, 'you're getting a grasp of ritual, I see.'

She stepped up and stripped off the negligee, and then crouched down and unclipped the chain from her ankle restraints. On the way back up, she lingered in the young girl's pussy, letting her hand delve between the puffy lips and feel the wetness within.

'Really ready?' she asked her, and Tania nodded.

'That isn't enough, darling,' said Gwen, 'you must ask me.'

'Oh, Gwen,' she said, breathily, 'please hurt me. I want you to.'

Gwen led her to the wooden St Andrew's cross set into the wall, and clipped her ankle restraints to the snap-links provided, and then fetched two similar restraints for her wrists, which she found on a shelf. These she placed on Tania's slim wrists and clipped them to their corresponding links on the cross. The slim blonde was now spreadeagled, facing the wall, and utterly vulnerable.

'What would you like me to use?' asked Gwen, following John's protocol.

'I don't know,' she replied, now breathing heavily, 'I just want you to hurt me, Gwen, and I trust you, my love.'

Gwen made the decision for her and took up the riding crop, which she knew would hurt her terribly, but give no lasting damage, only mark her prettily.

She stood back and took aim and, 'Thwack!'

'Oh' escaped her lips as the blow fell across her shoulder-blades.

The crop swished louder as Gwen warmed to the task – 'THWACK!'

'Ooh' came her moan as another stroke fell on her upper back, causing a red line to show and Tania writhed in agony.

Gwen lowered her aim and intensified her stroke, with a 'Crack!' as she lashed her across the middle of her back, bringing up a red welt.

'OOaah!' she cried, and she bucked against her tight bonds.

Gwen decided to check her young companion's cunt, and ran a hand through her slit. It was soaking. Abandoning her task for a moment, she knelt and inserted her tongue into the wet slit, first flicking the erect clitoris with her tongue-stud, then lapping the length of the sweet crack, drinking all Tania's juices greedily.

'You have cum, you little slut,' she said, and took up the crop again.

'I'm sorry, Gwen,' said Tania, then screamed as a fierce, stinging lash struck her across the top of her buttocks.

'Can you take four more?' asked Gwen, and Tania nodded dumbly.

'Is that yes?' demanded Gwen.

'Yes,' she murmured, and the older woman carried on, whipping her in a criss-cross pattern on the arse and upper thighs.

When she unclipped her, Tania fell into her arms.

Tenderly, Gwen carried her the short distance to the overstuffed sofa, and laid her down, then went to fetch the bottle of soothing oil John ensured was always kept handy. She spent half an hour anointing the blonde's delicate skin with the oil, easing it into the welts and stripes she herself was responsible for. Tania sighed and almost purred at Gwen's soft touch, and when she touched her sex, she was again getting moist. But it was with her own pussy that Gwen was now concerned. All the time she had been punishing Tania, she had been getting more and more excited, and now, sitting close to her, stroking her lovely young flesh, and feeling her body move under her touch, was almost more than Gwen could bear. She knew she had to have release, and suddenly, without warning, pulled the girl's short blonde hair roughly towards her centre, opening herself up to her brusquely, and thrusting Tania's head hard between her legs.

Tania knew her role, and, making an 'O' with her long tongue, she reached far into Gwen's wet cunt-hole. It was as if she couldn't reach far enough, and strove to get to Gwen's very inner soul, pulling at her arse with both hands as she pushed her tongue in and out of her vagina, slurping noisily. A finger found its way up Gwen's anus and Gwen came in that moment, a long-awaited, shuddering, heaving climax.

They lay sated, Tania sore and happy, Gwen proud and happy.

The next day passed uneventfully, Gwen taking Tania shopping, and having lunch in a nearby Commercial Centre, where the two of them turned a few heads – and enjoyed doing so.

That night, Gwen elected to sleep alone, as she knew John may come home at any time, and she didn't want him to find her in bed with Tania, though she didn't think he'd mind. Anyway, she was tired, so she had brushed out her long hair to a silken sheen, slipped on a favourite long silk nightgown, and went to bed.

She was awakened from a deep sleep by the sound of the downstairs door closing. She was instantly awake, and wiped the sleep from her eyes, knowing that John was home. She also knew he wouldn't want to wake her, and would go to his own, adjoining, room next door. She waited impatiently until she heard the bath run, then the slight splash as he lowered himself in to the huge, four-person tub.

She quietly slid out of bed, and crept soundlessly into the bathroom. He half-turned as she came in, and a smile came to his handsome face. She lifted the hem of her heavy silk gown far enough to step over into the bath, then lowered herself into the water, the wet silk sensuously moulded to her body, straddling his legs, her breasts now completely visible through the soaked gown, nipples straining and hard with the passion of her pent-up need for her Master. He too was more than ready for her, and his cock was as hard as a ramrod, as she lowered herself directly onto it, letting go a harsh gasp as she took his entire length within her in one great thrust.

'Oh, my,' she said, 'you've missed me, John.'

He bit her nipples through the wet silk of her gown, and she writhed on his rampant pole, then rode him, splashing water wildly, so that some ran clear out of the bath and onto the floor. He groaned as she thrashed up and down and squirmed from side to side, all in the same movement, then could keep himself in check no longer, and came in one massive heave, deep into her, simultaneously with her own onrushing climax.

'God,' she said, 'I've waited for that.'

'Have you been good?' he asked, sternly, when they had dried each other and were curled up in his bed.

'Well............er, yes,' she replied, uncertainly.

'Come on,' he said, 'what have you been up to?'

'I whipped Tania,' she confessed, looking sheepish, then explained, 'she begged me to.'

'I think I shall have to punish you for that,' he said.

'Mmmm,' she replied, 'yes please.'

'Tomorrow, Pet,' he said, 'and I may have a surprise for you too. Now you must sleep.'

They got up late. He was first out of bed, and stood naked, looking down at her, then pulled her without warning into wakefulness, and, dragging her out of bed, he pushed her into a kneeling position against the side of the bed.

From the wardrobe he took his favourite thin cane, and lashed her brutally about the back and buttocks, raising lurid red stripes, and hurting her terribly.

'Oh, thank you, John,' she said, when he had finished, 'how I have missed that. I want so badly to have you inside me now.'

He lifted her onto the bed, as if in answer, and told her to masturbate for him, while he watched her closely, and she obediently threw wide her legs and massaged her burgeoning clitoris as her juices oozed from her sopping cunt. As he watched her, pre-cum was dripping from the end of his cock, and he nudged it against her face, letting her lick him clean, but she wasn't satisfied with that, and hungrily swallowed up his whole rigid length between her lips, and sucked greedily as her fingers went right into her pussy to their very limit. He thrust his cock deep into her throat and came convulsively, staying in her mouth so that she could swallow every drop.

Later, he oiled her body where it was at its most sore, then helped her choose a soft dress which would not rasp against the wounds during the day. After treating her so cruelly, he was at his most solicitous.

Later, at breakfast, he told Gwen what he had planned for the rest of the day. They were to lunch with a pair of influential friends, who owned a 'Gothic Club' in the city. They apparently wanted new blood for their 'medieval show, which involved a lot of BDSM, he said.

'Not me!' exclaimed Gwen.

'No, Pet, though I think you'd do very well. No, I plan to loan them Tania – she's fresh, and new, and beautiful, and she craves punishment. What do you think?'

Gwen said she thought it sounded interesting, but she wanted to hear what Tania said.

'I've asked her already,' he said, 'and she is very keen. And there's something else. Lawrence is going to send me his girl for a month as a compensation – but she is a difficult one, evidently.' He grinned at the last bit.

They met Lawrence and his wife Janet for lunch in a very up-market restaurant in the city. Lawrence was older than John and looked like an ex-boxer or prize-fighter, gone slightly to seed, with a once-broken nose and a rugged face, topped with a mane of greying hair. He wore a grey Armani jacket and black jeans. Janet was much younger, and could have been a fashion model, with long slender legs, encased in shiny nylon. She wore a backless silk jersey dress, mid-thigh length, and heels. Her hair was dark blonde, with highlights, and, between that and her make-up, Gwen would have put a sizeable bet on her spending at least three hours a day in the parlour.

After a long lunch, and an even longer discussion over coffee, the deal was done, and it was arranged that Tania would be brought to the Gothic Club that night, where she would be the star of the show. When Gwen pointed out that she had no theatrical experience, she was told scornfully that that was the point.

After John received more instructions from Janet, who seemed now to have taken over control of the proceedings, we broke up and went home to relax, before preparing for the evening.

'Get a bit of rest, Pet,' said John, 'I've a feeling it could be a heavy night.'

At about seven, when Gwen had rested quietly for a couple of hours or so, John fetched her a coffee, and said, 'Have this, then let's go and get Tania moving.'

She drank her coffee, slipped on a robe, and went to Tania's room. She was nervously pacing the floor, and she told her to sit down for a moment, taking her slim hand in hers, and patting her knee.

'Don't worry, darling,' Gwen said, 'you know this is what you want.'

'Yes,' she replied, 'but I've never been whipped in front of an audience, and I don't know what I shall feel like.'

'Come on,' said Gwen, to allay her nerves, 'let's get you checked out.'

Gwen had her slip off her robe, and turned her this way and that, then laid her down on the bed, and ran her hands over her mound and all around her lovely young pussy, ostensibly checking to see that she had no vestiges of pubic hair, but also enjoying herself, and making her moist into the bargain. Gwen kissed her then, and told her she was to dress in a simple skirt and blouse, as clothes, such as she would require, would be provided on arrival at the Gothic Club. She told her, though, to make up with care, and gave her instructions as to what was required. With that, Gwen left her, and went back to her room.

John told her that it was an evening 'for dressing up' – so she chose a white silk halter-neck dress, completely open at the back, right down to the start of her buttock-cleavage, and the sides of which scarcely covered her breasts, so that if she leaned forwards, they could be seen in their entirety. She put her hair up and wore a pair of long silver ear-rings. A pair of very high metallic-heeled stilettos completed her clothing, as she wore, as usual, no underwear.

'How do I look?' she asked John.

'There will be no man there who will not want to fuck you,' he said, for a reply, and he looked pretty good himself, dressed in a lightweight fawn suit, blue button-down shirt, and striped tie.

Tania was waiting for them by the car when they got there, still nervous, but smiling nonetheless, and looking very young in a tartan miniskirt and cotton blouse which would have passed for school uniform until you took in Tania's long, slender legs and five inch heels.

Before they got in the car, John wanted to be sure that Tania's make-up was in order, and told her to step into the porch, under the lights, so that he could inspect her. He looked at her heavier-than-usual eye make-up, and grunted his approval, then told her to unbutton her blouse, and was similarly appreciative of her rouged nipples.

The Gothic Club was ten minutes' drive away, and when they got there, Gwen was impressed by the security arrangements – it would have been impossible for a non-member to have got through the gates and past the armed guards who appeared from discreet cabins whenever a car approached. When they parked, the array of parked cars was also very impressive, with Mercedes, Lexus, Aston Martins and even a Ferrari on show.

John and Gwen presented a very attractive picture as they walked up the steps, leading the submissive Tania, who, though slightly taller than Gwen, walked obediently slightly behind them, blonde head bowed.

When they entered, Janet was waiting for them, and John did a double-take as he saw her. She was dressed in a long tube-like fishnet dress, which encased her completely, but through the mesh of which protruded her nipples, at the tips of small, firm, breasts. Apart from a waist-chain, she was quite naked beneath the dress, and a prominent tattoo could clearly be seen, a serpent making its way towards her shaven pussy.

'Hello' she said, unselfconsciously, 'and this is the lovely Tania, eh? By the way, Gwen, I love your stripes.' Gwen had quite forgotten that her dress made her welts so very obvious and started when Janet mentioned them, but had no time to reply as Janet now took Tania by the hand, and whisked her away. She could only take small steps herself, due to the tightness of her skirt about her ankles. As she minced away, her round buttocks worked a liquid little dance under the fishnet.

'Phew,' said John, 'some dress!'

Gwen could hardly disagree.

A girl dressed as a maid materialised and beckoned to them to follow her. They went down a short corridor, and soon found themselves in a roomy auditorium, where perhaps thirty other couples were already installed, seated on comfortable sofas, each with a low table, with a plentiful supply of drinks in evidence.

When they were seated, near the front, another maid attended them, and took their drinks order. When she did the same at the adjacent table, Gwen noticed that the girl wore nothing under her short skirt, something she made no attempt to hide. John seemed unsurprised when she mentioned it.

After perhaps fifteen minutes, during which they were served with their gin and tonics, and listened to pleasant enough music, the red velvet curtains on the stage opened, and the lights in the auditorium went down.

A spotlight shone up a spot at the rear of the stage, and something like a Gregorian chant started up, creating an atmosphere of mystery and evil. Then two huge hooded figures, completely enveloped in black robes, walked slowly on stage, into the spot, flanking the slight blonde form of Tania, now wearing a long white, rough canvas dress, with voluminous sleeves, tied at the waist with a tasselled rope. Her wrists were cuffed together in front of her in metal handcuffs and she shuffled along awkwardly, ankles shackled with a chain which she dragged behind her.

She was ordered to stop in the centre of the stage, and another black-robed figure, smaller than the first two, appeared from the wings. This figure stooped and unfastened the chain between the blonde's ankles, and carried it to the side of the stage, leaving metal ankle-cuffs in place. The handcuffs were then similarly detached, again leaving metal cuffs in place on Tania's wrists.

The music now changed, became, if anything, more subtly menacing, and if the look on Tania's pretty face owed anything to acting talent, she was in line for an Oscar, as she looked quite terrified. The third black-robed figure now removed the cord from Tania's waist, and undid the two buttons which fastened her dress at the back. Tania stood motionless as the dress was pulled down, off her shoulders, and fell to the floor at her feet. The audience let out a collective gasp as her youthful figure was revealed in all its graceful beauty.

Now the first two hooded figures took over and, one each side of Tania, took her by the wrists and, as the music swelled, two heavy chains descended from the darkness above. They clipped her wrist-cuffs to these chains, and waited while the tension was taken up by the unseen machinery above, pulling the blonde's arms up above her head and apart from her shoulders. Then they switched their attention to her ankles, which they attached to two ringbolts conveniently-placed in the floor, so that she was held firmly, facing the audience, in a star position.

The audience was now getting excited, and a buzz was starting, which competed with the growing strains of the threatening music, as the third, much smaller hooded figure stepped to the front of the stage. With a flourish, the figure divested itself of its robe and revealed the magnificent form of – Janet! Now clad in a black corset, which cinched her already tiny waist and thrust her naked breasts proudly skywards, and thigh-high, spike-heeled boots – and nothing else, and carrying a monstrous whip in her right hand.

'Whip her – yes!' chanted some members of the audience, 'lash the bitch,' and similar calls, and, glancing around, Gwen saw that some of the audience were engaged in a variety of embraces – one woman nearby was on her knees with her partner's cock in her mouth, whilst another couple were masturbating individually, and watching each other intently.

She tore herself away from the audience to watch her young friend's fate, and the spotlight picked up Tania's wide-eyed fright as Janet stepped up with her huge stock-whip, cracking it as if she had practised the knack for years.

Suddenly, the music stopped, and Janet walked up to Tania, and, with her free hand, grasped her pussy.

'You're wet through, bitch, SLUT!' she yelled, for the audience's benefit.

Then she stood back and sent the whip snaking expertly across the stage, to land neatly around Tania's slender white thighs, causing her to writhe in her bonds and yelp, though how much of the cry was acting, how much was fear, and how much was real pain, was impossible to tell.