I stood in front of the mirror, looking over my shoulder, vainly admiring the deep, branded mark on my right buttock. The club's insignia, of a riding crop and the outline of a woman's body. When I touched it, ever so gently, it was still tender, as was the memory of the awful, searing pain off the red-hot iron burning into my delicate flesh. But the memory also made me tingle between the legs, or was it the knowledge that I was going to be whipped shortly?
A knock sounded on my door. I was naked, but knew who it was going to be. It was Mai, my lovely Chinese companion, whom Doña Francisca had detailed to punish me. In the logic of the club – strange to some ears – it was a part of
her
training, rather than mine, that she was to whip me, and my status in the club was now such that I was to be allowed to be whipped in the privacy of my own room.
Mai came in looking sheepish, dressed in just a red silk robe, and carrying a carpet-bag, and confessed she didn't want to hurt me.
'I've only ever whipped one girl – the one who left,' she said, ' and I found myself almost enjoying it after a few strokes. But I really like you, Renata, and I don't want to hurt you.'
'Please don't think like that, Mai,' I said, 'we'll make love afterwards, won't we?'
At that, she smiled, and said, 'OK, where do you want me to do it?'
'It's up to you to tell me, Mai – you must learn to take charge.'
'Right,' she said, 'Kneel on the floor – here.' She pointed to a spot in the middle of the wooden floor, and I obediently knelt there. She put the bag down on the floor beside me.
'Hands behind your head,' she ordered, and she flicked my long hair around and over one shoulder so that it fell over my breasts.
'What shall it be?' she asked, and I knew what she meant.
'The crop, I think,' I suggested.
She took the cruel riding crop out of the bag and tested its movement through the air, seeming satisfied with the swishing sound it made. Then, without delay, she stood back, and there was another swish and .... 'CRACK' as it landed with a sharp stinging sensation across the hollow of my back.
'You must count down from ten,' said Mai, dropping the role of dominant very nicely, I thought, and I gasped, 'Ten,' then 'nine,' as another fiery lash followed the first, just below it. I was by now expert at taking punishment, and the pain of Mai's lashes soon started to merge with growing warmth of ecstasy and the flowing juices of desire – desire for Mai, who knew I wanted her lithe body, knew that my wet pussy was longing for her. By the time she reached 'three', she was setting my buttocks on fire, and the last few strokes didn't spare even the area around my new mark, which I knew Mai coveted, and she at last wrung a sharp cry from my lips as she struck me directly over the tender new brand.
'I'm sorry, Renata,' she said, finally, and threw off her robe, thrusting her small breasts hard into my face, so that I couldn't help taking her hardening nipples into my mouth and sucking them like a baby.
We helped each other up onto my kingsize bed, and entwined ourselves, as she stroked my back and arse, making quite sure she hadn't broken the skin or caused me too great damage.
The whipping had had its customary effect on both of us. My cunt was soaking, and when Mai stroked my slit with her long, beautifully manicured fingers, I felt an uncontrollable orgasm welling up within me, and shook with its power. She had only to touch my hard little clitoris, and I moaned with the intensity of its wave of sheer frenzy.
My own hands, meanwhile, were busy parting her labia, and I then responded as I knew she loved – plunging my tongue deep into her cunt-hole, and licking her sweet juices, while I probed with my finger, equally deeply into her warm and inviting anus, which seemed to suck my finger into its secret portals. She came in seconds.
'I've no need of vibrators with you, Renata, she said, how I'm going to miss you.'
Tears were running down her cheeks as I looked at her almond eyes, and I felt my own filling up. I was going to miss her too. For I had been told that Sergio and I were to leave the next day, to open a new club. There had been a long meeting between Sergio and the club's owners, Marta and Mario, to which not even Doña Francisca had been invited, and this was the upshot.
That evening there was a celebration dinner at the club. I wore a backless grey silk gown with a halter neck, proudly showing off the red welts Mai had given me that afternoon. Another recent acquisition was a broad silver collar that Sergio had presented me with, when he had had me branded, saying that it was something I had earned only after my first period of subservience. I was very proud of it, and never took it off.
We dined together, Sergio and I, Doña Francisca and Mai, and I was surprised to see a tear in Doña Francisca's eye when she said goodbye at the end of the evening, as she had always seemed very stern and forbidding, and appeared to take delight in meting out punishment.
Next morning, we left at first light, driving off in Sergio's Mercedes, as we had quite a long journey, and he explained that he wanted to arrive well before lunch in order to start organising staff. The new club was in a remote situation not too far from AlmerÃa, and when we arrived I saw that it had been built along the lines of the nameless one we had just left. Sergio told me that there were, in fact, four more similar clubs, in strategic places along the coast, all quite discreet, and none of them having a name.
The building smelt new, and was beautifully fitted out, with no expense spared, and when Sergio showed me around, I found that it was virtually a facsimile of the club near Benidorm, right down to the 'library,' the little theatre, the room with the 'hard table' and the well-appointed bedrooms.
Our immediate concern was to interview the 'domestic' staff, who needed to be very discreet – they all had to sign papers promising complete secrecy about what they saw, and we took care to find beautiful young girls as servants, to whom we could 'dangle the carrot' that they may eventually move on to higher things at the club. Of the six we saw that morning and afternoon, we selected four.
When I asked Sergio about the girls who would be doing the real work at the club, he told me that a friend, Daniel, was bringing three girls that evening, and they would all be dining with us. Another friend, Ivan, was bringing a girl the next day. If they were all satisfactory, that would bring us up to strength, and we should be just about ready to open in a week's time. I asked if the girls new what was in store, and he spread his arms enigmatically, 'Who knows?' he said.
I eagerly anticipated dinner that evening, and Sergio told me I was to dress rather more formally than was my normal custom. We had taken possession of the master bedroom at the front of the club, overlooking the driveway, and I found the wardrobe as well-equipped as I could have hoped – and more so. I picked out a narrow black velvet gown, with a deep, plunging neckline, and Sergio insisted that I wore nipple-clamps with it, making the fact obvious by attaching them to each other by a thin gold chain. I was accustomed to them by now, but their pain still made me squirm, and I felt the associated wetness building inevitably within me. The gown's skirt was long and very tight and restricted my movements, which I also found arousing, and I stepped into a pair of very high black stilettos. Brushing my long black hair to a silken sheen, I felt good.
We seemed to have the kitchen functioning after a fashion, and there was a lot of scurrying about as we entered the dining room to await the new arrivals. We stood at the little bar, and I thought Sergio looked very handsome in a blue blazer, grey slacks and a cream shirt. He told me that Daniel had been treating the three girls to a short 'holiday' in an apartment at a nearby beach resort, and that they should at least be dressed for dinner.
A scrunching of gravel announced the arrival of a vehicle, and we watched through the window. It was a 'people-carrier,' and a cheerful-looking guy of medium height, with tousled dark blond hair, emerged, and threw open the passenger doors. Three girls emerged and I had a chance to watch them come up the three steps to the front door of the club. Three girls more diverse would have been difficult to find. First came a very tall, slim, startlingly black girl, as elegant as a fashion model, dressed for contrast in a white pant-suit and high-heeled sandals. Her hair was elaborately coiffed in cornrows. Next came an olive-skinned, dark-haired, Mediterranean-type, petite, with an oval face and large, dark, liquid eyes. She wore a simple calf-length button-through dress, but was the type who would have looked good in a bin-liner. The other girl was an unmistakeably Scandinavian type, a head taller than the previous one, though not so tall as the black girl. She had long, straight blonde hair right down to her waist, and showed off her long slender legs, impressive breasts and narrow waist in a skimpy blue minidress.
'Hmmm,' I said, 'it looks as if your friend has varied tastes.'
Sergio chuckled and nuzzled my hair, 'We might have an entertaining week preparing this little lot, eh? And, there's another to come, remember?'
When Sergio had first presented Daniel to me, he introduced the girls. The black girl was Amity, and was from Nigeria, the Mediterranean type was, in fact, Romanian, and was called Martina, and the blonde was Swedish – her name was Inge.
Whilst the girls were freshening up, and being shown their rooms, I had a chance to talk a little to Daniel and Sergio about them. I said I was worried about Amity, as African girls sometimes had a tendency to be prudish, but Daniel said that was far from the case – she had spent time in the States – 'You'll see,' he said. I warmed to Daniel, who was a happy-go-lucky sort of guy, and couldn't help wondering whether it would be nice to fuck him.
The two guys were deciding upon a strategy for the first twenty-four hours of the three girls' training – the fourth girl would have to wait until we saw what time she arrived – and it was thought essential that they were introduced to some form of punishment as soon as possible. I asked if they had had a long journey, and Daniel said not, so I suggested that it may be a good idea to have them whipped that evening, fairly mildly – to get them used to the idea. Then, tomorrow, perhaps they could have butt-plugs fitted? Sergio thought that sounded fine.
No sooner had we decided upon the regime than the three girls appeared, and took their places at the next table, where they were served with dinner. Over coffee, Sergio went over and addressed them.
'Welcome, ladies. I don't know what you've been told, but I know you are expecting some experiences involving restraint and pain, but much pleasure. Your training will start tonight. If any of you wish to leave at any time, you are free to do so. Now please go to your rooms and put on a white negligee you will find on your bed. This is required whenever you are to be punished. Then wait in your rooms.'
