Submissive in Surrey

Author's Note: This chapter was a lot of fun to research and write! I hope you enjoy it. Please consider making a comment. Once again I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Lady B for her encouragement and editorial advice. W.M.

Submissive in Surrey

Chapter 5 - The Evening of My Best Day

"Sudoriferous."

Jan looked up from her crossword puzzle. "What did you say, Annette?"

"Sudoriferous. You wanted a twelve-letter word for 'producing sweat', I said absently.

Jan entered the clue into the crossword grid in her usual meticulous handwriting. "Hah, that's right! I should have known that myself. As in, 'sudoriferous glands.' But how did you know that?"

I took a sip of Myf's splendid Irish Breakfast tea and shrugged. "Picked it up somewhere, can't recall just where. It's such a good word it must have stuck in my memory."

"See, Mistress? I told you she's really smart," Myf chimed in. I could feel her admiring gaze on me; apparently my taking her punishment the previous day had a profound effect on her.

"See if you can't remember where you 'picked that up.' I'd be most interested to-" Jan's request was interrupted by her phone ringing. "Hello? Yes, this is she. Oh, Inspector, how lovely to hear from you. Any news?"

There was a pause while the Inspector - whoever that was - spoke and Jan listened. I noticed that Jan had the very latest iPhone, an expensive bit of kit, but supposed she could afford it.

"I'll check with Annette, Inspector. She's been my guest since the incident. Can you stay on the line for a moment?" Apparently receiving an affirmative, Jan turned to me. "Annette, it's the Surrey police. They have the man who whipped you in custody and would like you to identify him. I'm free to take you to the station, but it's your decision. Do you - "

"Yes, of course," I answered.

"You're not afraid to confront him? Are you sure?" Jan locked eyes with me as she spoke.

"I want the chance to atone for my mistake, Jan. I don't want him to have the chance to victimize another girl."

Jan smiled. Well, it was only the upward movement of one corner of her mouth, but still. "I don't know if 'atone' is the proper word, but..." She then spoke into the phone. "We can be there within the hour, Inspector. Is that enough time for you? Splendid. See you soon."

Jan ended the call and placed her phone into a jacket pocket. "Myf," she said, "are you going to be ok to bike it to school today?"

"Weather's fine, Mistress. No problem," she answered with a sweet smile.

"That's settled, then. Let's go, Annette."

With the only delay being a quick toilet stop, Jan and I got into the Bentley and we were on our way.

"It's in Guildford, not very far," Jan advised me as we got onto the road. "I think this is brave of you, Annette."

"Brave?" I made a dismissive sound. "We'll be in a police station. What's he going to do, swear eternal revenge on me? I doubt it."

Jan left it at that, but after a minute or so, said "Indulge me, would you? I'd still like to know how you managed to fail university like you did. You seem like you've got everything going for you."

There was no interrupting Myf to save me this time. I gave out a long sigh. "Long or short version?"

"We have some time. I'd like to know more about you," Jan replied, giving me an encouraging smile.

"Argh, I should start at the beginning," I said. "Probably the first and most enduring mistake I made in my life was learning to read at age three. Newspapers, not childrens' books. At first I drove my Dad crazy, always asking him what this or that word meant. But then, he decided he had a prodigy on his hands. I remember the day he gave me an atlas and a list of questions - what's the highest mountain in Queensland, what's the capital of Georgia, what's the only national flag that isn't a rectangle or square - "

"And?" Jan asked, amused but clearly interested.

I let out a louder sigh. "Mount Bartle Frere; Tibilisi (the country) Atlanta (the US state); and Nepal."

"I'll take your word for it. Please continue."

"After a few years, I became the golden child. Dad amazed his friends with my precocity. I found out I really enjoyed learning and knowing all manner of facts. The only bad side-effect was a compulsion to answer questions put to me. Well, that, and being the target of Dad's expectations."

"He put pressure on you?" Jan asked.

On an impulse, I started to sing lowly:

They all smile,

They shake your hand,

They want to know your name;

You sit in your mother's room

Look through the window pane.

When they know you're not watching

They talk behind your back

And laugh about the loneliness

Of your awkward attack.

"You're full of surprises, Annette. I had no idea you could sing. But that song's almost a dirge."

"It's called 'The Evening of my Best Day.' It's far from my favourite Rickie Lee Jones song; she sings like she has a head cold on the album version. But it encapsulates how I felt in those years, like a sideshow attraction to be dragged out whenever Dad wanted to entertain a friend."

"That's a really odd name for such a dour song," Jan observed.

"I agree, but it does end on an optimistic note. Anyway, you were asking about pressure. Yeah, there was. Dad had great expectations for his 'genius' daughter. He was convinced I was headed for much bigger things than the family dairy farm - that I'd be a doctor, a lawyer, a scientist, or something like that. Maybe he projected his own wants onto me, I don't know. When I said I was interested in law, he knew, he just knew, that I'd end up as a High Court judge. And my high school results supported that."

"The wheels fell off, somehow, when you left home?"

"Ugh. Did they ever. I enrolled for a double degree course at the University of New South Wales, in Sydney. A law degree and a science degree. My first extended period away from home."

Jan whistled lowly. "That's an unusual combination, to say the least."

"Well, I always liked chemistry. The Periodic Table - there's just a kind of poetry about how it works, you know? Like, it's elegant. Dmitri Mendeleev, using nothing more than pencil, paper, patience and observation, created the basis of modern chemistry, and was able to predict the existence and properties of several as-yet undiscovered elements. It's like he broke the code of the universe."

Jan smiled slyly. "I see passion like that on people's faces a fair bit, but usually there's orgasms involved."

"Hah! I bet you do. Anyway, my plan, such as it was, was to go into intellectual property law after I graduated."

"What went wrong?"

"Well, first of all, there's an unwelcome side effect of being the smartest kid in high school: you become a much smaller fish in a much bigger pond at university, and you never bother to learn how to study, since everything's been easy for you. And one more terrible flaw of mine became obvious."

"Don't keep me in suspense..."

"... I couldn't do calculus to save my life. It was like a blind spot. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't get my head around it. And if you can't do calculus, you can't pass first-year mathematics or first-year physics. And my confidence, which was never great to begin with, went into a death spiral. I... I stopped trying. I gave up."

"Annette, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry. You don't have to say any more."

"... and, and th-there's nothing worse than a golden child, who's really... fool's gold." I put my face in my hands and wept. Jan stopped the car and let me cry. She didn't have to wait long, as I immediately felt foolish and sniffed back my tears. "And while I was failing my studies, I found out I was queer as well, and Dad was just

thrilled

about that."

"Annette." Jan's voice had suddenly turned stony. "You use that word again and I'll tan your hide. Are we clear?"

Jan's words had an alchemical effect on my racing emotions. I sat up straighter, stole a nervous glance at her and swallowed hard. "Y-yes, M... Yes, Jan. Sorry."

Oh God,

I thought,

I almost called her Mistress!

My heart was in my throat. Had she noticed?

If she had, she was concealing it under that highly effective poker face of hers. "Words have power, Annette. Do you really think of yourself as 'queer'? Do you think of me that way? Of Myf?"

"... no. No! I'm sorry, Jan, I... I won't say that again." My voice was small and I had the sudden urge to abase myself for her.

"Perhaps I should apologize as well, Annette. I went into full lecturing mode then, didn't I? Take a few deep breaths and centre yourself. You need to be at your best for this." Jan started up the car again and pulled out from the curb.

The Bentley ate up the kilometres in stately elegance. We were entering the town of Guildford when I said, "I remember where I picked up 'sudoriferous.'

"Perhaps save it for later, Annette? I don't want you getting upset again."

"No, no, Jan, this is a happy memory. Honest. It concerns my older brother, Peter, and he's my favourite family member. I'll tell you more about him some other time, but I found that word in one of his old comic books. I used to raid his stash all the time, heh heh. He had a stack of well-hidden 'Australian Penthouse' mags as well, but I never let on."

"A comic book," Jan chuckled. "You're something else, Annette."

Before long, the Bentley had crossed the River Wey and skirted around the southern reaches of Guildford, and we found ourselves in the parking lot of a modern-looking complex of buildings on the outskirts of town. "Here we are," Jan declared, "Surrey Police headquarters." We entered the main building and were greeted by a WPC at the reception desk. "How can I assist you, Ma'am?" the constable directed at Jan.

"This is Annette Hart, and I'm Dame Janet Harrington," Jan answered effortlessly. " Detective Inspector Stephenson is expecting us."

"One moment please, Ma'am." The constable picked up her phone and pressed buttons. After a brief conversation, she stood. "Follow me, please."

D.I. Stephenson was a fiftyish man with salt and pepper hair and a lined face, but the grin he gave Jan when he saw her removed about ten years. "Dame Janet, always a pleasure," he said, "and this is Ms. Hart?"

"Lovely to see you again, Sean. Pity about the circumstances, but, still." First name basis. I wondered why.

"All right, Ms. Hart," the Inspector addressed me, "in a moment I'm going to bring you inside a room for an identity parade. Each of the men inside is numbered. If you recognise the man who assaulted you, simply advise me of his number. Don't touch any of them or even point. Are you ready to proceed?"

"Yes, Inspector." He led me inside, where six men were lined up, looking back at me. It took me less than a second to recognise the man who whipped me. I could never forget those eyes or that sneer. I turned to the Inspector and said "Number four," then turned on my heel and left.

After that, I spent an hour providing a statement to a young detective while doing my best not to choke on the worst cup of coffee I'd ever had. Once that was done, the detective handed me off to a WPC, who asked me if I'd be willing to have my injuries photographed to be used as evidence. With just a little reluctance, I agreed to a decidedly non-sexy nude photoshoot.

I ended an eventful morning in Inspector Stephenson's office, with Jan.

"Thank you for all you've done today, Ms. Hart. You've helped us a great deal today. If this goes to trial..."

"If?" I said, finding I'd beaten Jan to the punch by an instant. The Inspector held up his hands in a placating gesture.

"It's out of our hands, I'm afraid. We collect the evidence and give a brief to the Crown Prosecution Service. They then make the decision whether to prosecute or not. And they won't prosecute unless they believe they can secure a conviction."

Jan rubbed her chin. "You're concerned about the nature of the crime... and the question of consent?"

"In my experience, they're not exactly falling over themselves to prosecute this kind of crime. A sadomasochistic act, perpetrated in a club devoted to catering for such acts, inflicted on a woman who had initially consented? They might very well baulk."

"All the more reason it should be prosecuted, in my opinion," Jan countered. "A precedent should be set."

I was barely listening. My resolve had drained away and I was starting to feel sick. Had all this been for nothing?

"But don't fear," the Inspector assured me. "We had two outstanding warrants on Mister Carter before he even met you - that's his name, by the way, Randall Ian Carter - for aggravated assault, so regardless I believe he'll be spending some time as a guest of Her Majesty. Anyway, I shan't keep you both any longer. Thanks again for your help, Ms. Hart. I'll see you both out, Dame Janet."

Back in the car, I sat in the passenger seat and I couldn't stop my hands from trembling. "Hey," Jan said, putting a hand on my back, "you did really well in there. You faced that animal without a bit of fear, Sean told me."

"I s-saved it up for now," I replied, my teeth starting to chatter. "I looked at him and relived the whole thing."

"Wait there." Jan got out of the driver's seat, walked around, opened my door and hugged me. "He can't hurt you any more, Netty. I'm here." It was the first time she'd ever used the diminutive. I felt cared for in a way I hadn't felt in years.

After a time, she said, "I think we've both earned a nice lunch. Shall we go?"

...

We ordered focaccias with deli meats, cheese and pesto in a bright, cheerful cafe facing the river. With the stress of the visit to the police station over, I had time to think about other things. I found it difficult to look directly at Jan, and she noticed. "Is there something wrong, Annette?"

Back to my full name. That was going to make things more difficult. I took a deep breath and decided there was nothing to lose. "I need to confess something, Jan. Last night, look, I had a skinful of drink on board, but that's not the reason..."

Jan turned her undivided attention on me like she knew what I was going to say. "Go on."

"Even before I met you and Myf, I used to use pain as an - I don't know, amplifier? When I was masturbating. Not much pain - pinching my nipples, a little spank to my, um, pussy; I suppose in my sick little mind I was punishing myself? But last night, I jilled myself silly. I pressed my welted arse as hard as I could onto the bedsheets to freshen and sharpen the pain and I called out your name. I called you M-mistress..." I was red in the face and stammering by the end.

There was a subtle change coming over Jan's face. Her expression was becoming less open, more stern. "Why are you telling me this, Annette? There's nothing shameful about masturbation, but most people keep their fantasies secret."

In for a penny... "You know I was curious, that's why I went into Gehenna in the first place. And after that, I was ready to run, not walk, away. But then I saw you and Myf, and how obviously you love each other; and I'm lonely, and I kept getting little tastes, like when you gagged me, and when Myf tied my hands, and even when you punished me, I know it wasn't supposed to be sexual, but... Jan, I'm going to be honest, you're the most beautiful, desirable woman I've ever met, 980 milliHelens at least, and every time I see you I have to fight the urge to kneel and grovel at your feet..." My voice dried up. I felt like I'd stepped off a precipice.

Jan paused for long enough for my racing mind to approach panic, but finally she spoke. "I don't think I've ever met someone who could come straight out and confess like that. Is it an Australian thing, to be so headlong, foolish-brave?"

"I, um, I don't know?" My voice added an upward inflection that I immediately regretted.

"All right, Annette. Be brave for me for just a little while longer, and tell me what you want from me."

I lowered my head and looked at the table and the remains of my focaccia. "I know I'm just passing through your life. I know I'll be gone in a few days, and I know I've no right to ask you this. But I've seen how happy, how

blissful

Myf is, being your submissive and your lover, and I just wanted to know what it's like, even if just for a little while. What I'm asking for... is to submit to you. Please."

A moment hung, quiet and still. Jan's voice was clear. "Well, this is somewhat awkward. I had intended to discuss something else with you at this lunch, but I'd rather not muddy up the issues, so that will have to wait. You know we're going to have to proceed very carefully, don't you? I've seen how fragile your self-esteem is. We are both going to have to monitor your feelings, lest I make you spiral down into depression. But I'd be lying if I said I don't find you both fascinating and likeable, so we can at least give it a try."

I raised my head, not quite believing what I was hearing. "Really?"

"Really. Now, you remember the fruits? Let me hear it from you."

"Lime is green, means everything's fine. Lemon is yellow. It means I'm starting to feel uncomfortable with what we're doing and you should slow down or back up a bit. Pomegranate is red. It means you need to stop what you're doing and check in, maybe stop the session altogether."

Jan nodded. "That's correct. Be sure to use them. Don't let that poorly-guided bravado of yours get in the way. I mean it. Understand?"

"I understand... am I allowed to call you 'Mistress'?"

Jan's voice changed. It was so sudden and profound, it was like a magic trick."That is exactly how you address me until further notice, slut. Now remove your panties and give them to me."

I was sure I'd done a credible goldfish impression for a second or two, but managed to slip my panties down my legs and over my feet before handing them to Mistress Jan, blushing hard all the while, thanking the gods I was wearing a skirt rather than jeans, and furtively looking around to see if anyone was watching. Mistress took the panties and gripped my jaw painfully tight. "When I tell you to do something, SLUT, you DO it. You don't worry about who can see you!"

"Yeph, Mistreph," was all I could manage in that grip. She released me, made the panties disappear, and extracted a credit card from her bag. "Go pay the bill, slut, then meet me outside. Don't take all day." She then stood and left.

I paid the bill, trying not to blush too hard, intensely grateful that the amount was small enough to just tap-n'-go. I made sure to get a receipt though, and in a moment of inspiration I tucked the receipt and the corner of the card between my lips, then walked up to Mistress, curtsied, and presented them to her. Mistress almost smiled to see it.

"Nice improv, slut. I appreciate initiative, but you'd better not have got teeth marks on my credit card." Mistress snatched card and receipt, then announced we were going to go for a walk along the riverbank before returning home.

We walked for a bit, with Mistress insisting that I trail behind her; then she abruptly stopped and turned to me, her loaded cigarette holder in her hand. "Light me, slut." I fumbled for my crappy disposable 3-for-a-quid lighter and applied flame to her cigarette. "Mistress, may I..."

"You may not," she answered, blowing the smoke into my face. "You can have my second-hand smoke. Considering how weak those things you smoke are, that should be more than enough for you." It was true that my Silk Cuts were on the low end of the tar and nicotine scale, and her lung-busters were far stronger. Still, being the target of her exhaled smoke only served to wake up my own cravings. Mistress knew this, of course, and smiled evilly between exhales, each one targeted at my face. "Any regrets yet, slut?"