Training this sweet bitch was the most exciting thing I'd ever done. Besides the fact that she was naturally sophisticated and a high society lady, she was very beautiful. Her long lean body had all of the right curves, her muscle tone was exceptional for a nearly 40 year old, and her breasts were nice C cups with simply huge nipples resulting from over two years of being forced to endure strong suction cups nearly every night. In addition, her sexual responses were over the top.
I was in love with Sue. Unfortunately, I had already agreed to and even signed a contract describing the procedure and naming a price for breaking her and turning her into a sub-slut masochist. The procedure was nearing its end a little ahead of schedule due to the highly sensual nature of the wondrous creature and how easily her beautiful sexuality been turned into masochistic fervor. I had done too good a job.
I was preparing her for her nightly venture into her stepdaughter Charlotte's room where she would be tortured by her stepdaughter and Charlotte's father, Sue's husband. Charles did not love Sue and never had. Charlotte's mother had been his first wife, a sexually ambitious biochemist who had patented a prescription for birth control pills that had a secondary effect of highly increasing the sexual desire and capacity of the women who used it. After she died, Charles and Charlotte became lovers.
As one of Charlotte's confidants as well as her cousin, I had known all of that. Being just as perverted as her, I also enjoyed using Sue's mouth many times during those two years. When Charlotte decided to break Sue completely and turn her into her personal sub-slut and masochist, I jumped at the chance to Dom the gorgeous woman. Her beauty, sensual nature, and her sweet submissive personality, which should never have been turned masochist, captured my heart and soul. I had to work to hide my tears from my cousin and Charles.
Sue had seen me crying one night when I thought she was asleep and asked me what was wrong. "As if a sub --slut like you would care," I growled falling into my Dom persona.
She looked at me sadly and I saw a tear run from one eye. "I just thought maybe I could make you feel better if you wanted, Mistress Candy."
I felt her sincere warmth and concern and it burned my ass that this woman whom I'd tortured, broken, destroyed, and turned into a crawling masochist, had the personality to be concerned about me. I flew off of the handle.
"Yes, you can make me feel better," I shouted as I leaped out of bed. I reached for her and pulled her from the bed by her hair reveling in her cries of pain. I dragged her to the low padded bench and did something I'd never done before, leaned her over it on her back. I quickly secured the always ready Velcro wrist and ankle cuffs leaving her legs wrenched so widely that the muscles of her inner thighs quaked. I picked up my breast flogger and looked at her gaping wet pussy and smiled in anticipation. She wanted to know if she could make me feel better. Her screams would make my blood boil and her mouth would make my pussy sing.
Scream she did! I used the flogger on her upturned tits, her stretched and straining abdomen, and most satisfyingly on her wet cunt. After 20 minutes of anger inspired punishment, a mortal sin for a professional trainer and Dominatrix, I threw the whip at the wall in greater anger, the anger of shame now, and sat on the bed and cried like a baby.
After some unknown length of time locked within my own feelings and shame, I heard her gentle sobs and moved to release her from her painful position. Once she was on her feet, I knelt in front of her and begged her for her forgiveness.
"I am so sorry, Sue," I sobbed out, "a Dom cannot lose control like I just did. It is unforgivable but I ask you to forgive me anyway."