In the manner of Gregory Maguire, who provided us with a version of the childhood standard The Wizard of Oz through the eyes of the "wicked" witch, I have re-written my favorite BDSM story, Both Master and Slave, written by Martin Sharpe (published in 2001 by Silver Moon Books in Great Britain), from the point of view of the submissive, rather than the Master, who was Mr. Sharpe's narrator. I hope that fans of the original book will accept my version for the tribute that it is meant to be.
* * *
We were all a bit nervous when the day actually arrived.
Master was trying to read. I was pacing. Sally was so still she didn't appear to be breathing, sitting on the edge of a sofa, her pretty blue Marks & Spencer dress falling round her in peaceful folds. There was no anticipation in Sally's face; nothing but peace. I'd never seen her like this. I'd never seen anybody like this before. Clouds scudded past and I, unable to restrain my restless impulse, walked across to the window to look out at the grey and thickening clouds. I glanced at my watch, "They're late," I said.
"Shut up, Meat," Sally said.
I began to pace the room once more, glancing down to the street each time I passed the window. Suddenly I froze, and announced, "They're here."
Master walked over and stood beside me. A black stretched Mercedes had pulled up at the curb on the opposite side of the street from Master's house. Three extraordinary-looking women were getting out. An old lady with a shopping trolley was staring at them open-mouthed. I could tell that Master didn't like that, knowing that he takes pride in the fact that nobody in his street has any idea of the sophisticated things that happen above the dry cleaner's on the corner.
I went down to answer the door. A moment later Katrina swept into Master's living room like a queen. She took off her leather trench coat. Under it, she was wearing a midnight blue leather leotard with a silver zip that ran down between her breasts and disappeared between her legs. Katrina also had on black, high heeled, thigh-length boots with the tops folded down like a principal boy at a pantomime, showing off midnight blue linings. The flashes of thigh between leotard and boots showed skin that was surprisingly firm for a chubby woman in middle age. Katrina's earrings were lightening flashes, blue enamel over white gold. Two Chinese girls I had never seen before, wearing identical black leather skirts and silver tank tops, their faces cold and expressionless, flanked Katrina, and took up positions on either side of their mistress.
One of them carried a long, velvet-covered box.
Katrina glanced at the bondage pictures on Master's walls and smiled. Whilst Katrina was scanning her surroundings and making eye contact with Master, I took the opportunity to observe her. Katrina was the most ordinary of women, mousy brown hair, and the wrong side of fifty, short and plump. However, there was something about her. Not just the clothes, but also the way Katrina held herself. Katrina was not the kind of person you read about in the tabloids, or even in the financial papers, except for the time Katrina had won the businesswoman of the year award, but she was the private brains behind dozens of celebrities and well-known brand names. Katrina also was a legend in the S&M community. Master welcomed Katrina to his home while her girls stood in silence, looking at the floor. Katrina knew the names of the rock groups Master handled, and commented on the way Master publicised them. Master does not like to have business conversations in front of slaves, but I could see that he was impressed at Katrina's grasp of his business experience and activities.
Soon after Master contacted Katrina about placing Sally with her, he explained to me that, in the S&M world, girls like Sally are bought, sold, swapped, lent, and/or given away all the time. Master told me that he had paid good money for the Red Cow, and could have sold her at a profit when people saw how far Master's training had taken her. Katrina looked at Sally and me, and asked: "Which of these whores do you want to off-load?"
"M-me, Mistress," said Sally, a tremor in her voice. I was dumb-struck -- Sally hadn't stammered since she was at school.
"Then why aren't you naked?" snapped Katrina. "Why aren't you kneeling?" she added, as Sally hurried to pull her dress over her head.
Katrina walked round her prospective slave, running cool eyes over her trembling body. Master had never managed that, although he had beaten and tortured her. We both knew Master never had made his Assistant Cunt tremble.
"Good," Katrina said, "no brand yet." She opened Sally's mouth and looked inside.
"You didn't pull her teeth?" Katrina asked Master with a smile.
"No," Master replied, startled.
"Lots of delights await her then," Katrina said. "Does she take it up the arse?"
Master nodded.
"Has she taken a fist up the arse?" Katrina inquired.
"I don't know," Master admitted.
"She will," replied Katrina. She looked at Master as if weighing up Master's qualities as a master and finding Master wanting. "You don't seem to know how to show a girl a good time," Katrina commented.
I watched all this, pale-faced and silent.
Katrina lifted Sally's face with a finger under her chin. "Lick Ang-Sun's cunt," she ordered. "There's a good girl."
One of the Chinese slaves hitched up her skirt, revealing dark stocking tops and a pierced and shaven mound. Sally stuck out her tongue and leaned forward.
"Any good?" asked Katrina a few minutes later.
"Excellent, Madam," Ang-Sun responded.
"I thought as much," said Katrina. "Dyke to the bone. That's enough, bitch," Katrina directed Sally in a soft voice that was impossible to ignore.
"Lie down on that table -- on your back," Katrina ordered. "Now raise your legs in the air. Do not look at me, dear. Keep your eyes fixed on the ceiling until I tell you otherwise."
Still trembling, Sally obeyed, holding her legs at ninety degrees to the top of the coffee table, toes pointed towards the ceiling.
