Thanks once more to my dearest friend for proof reading, sensible suggestions, and encouragement. My love goes out to you.
After Hanna left, I sat back and breathed a sigh of relief. It had been an arduous session for me, but I knew it had been an even tougher one for her. I looked down at myself and realised the mess I was in. My shirt was damp from her tears and streaked with black eye makeup. There was a large wet stain across the front of my trousers, and I could smell her all over me. I needed a shower.
I got up and left the room I usually refer to as 'my office' and went upstairs to my apartment. In the bathroom I stripped off and threw my soiled clothes in the basket and stepped under the shower. Mrs. Jacobs could deal with the laundry when she came in. She had worked for me for years. I'm not sure what she thought I got up to, but she was always discrete. I'm sure the state of my clothes would come as no surprise. I made a mental note to add a little bonus to her wage packet.
After my shower I wandered around, selecting something new to wear. Not having any more appointments that day I decided on a simple shorts and T-shirt mix. The weather was too hot for anything else. After an hour I wandered back downstairs. The office was a bit of a mess with clothes pegs scattered all over and there was still a wet sheen on the floor. A black butt plug sat, shining and accusingly on my desk. I grabbed a mop and bucket and cleaned the floor, picking up pegs as I went. I could only find eight and wondered where the other had gone. I mentally shrugged and decided that their day was done and that I needed some better equipment. I carefully washed the plug, cleaning it free from all traces of lube.
I finally sat down and switched on my laptop. I spent the rest of the afternoon making calls and searching the internet for various items. I arranged for my usual repair person to come around and set up a microphone and loudspeaker system linking me to the landing outside. I found a website that sold the items I wanted and ordered several sets of the shining butterfly clamps, some paired with a chain linking them and others as single items. I'd wanted them for ages but had never got around to getting them. I began to devise ways to use them, picturing the pained expression on Hanna's face as I mentally attached them here and there on her willing body.
Billy the repair person came the next day and installed the speaker system. He was in and out in about an hour and it seemed to work fine. At my end was a small microphone on a stand that could be hidden in a drawer. The speaker outside was discretely mounted next to the camera. I thanked him and paid him well.
The rest of the week was quiet. At that time, I had two other clients. One was young, about the same age as Hanna and came of her own volition. She had simple needs that were easy to fulfil. All I had to do was give her a thorough over the knee spanking and let her call me daddy. I have never studied psychology but even I could work out what was going on with her. She was a strange young woman and always dressed demurely. I had never seen her naked apart from her bottom. She would simply drape herself over my knee and I would lift up her skirt, pull down her panties, and begin. She hardly said a word apart from the occasional "thank you, daddy." She was never willing to have any lengthy conversation, either before or after and I knew little about her. Nevertheless, I enjoyed our sessions, relishing the feeling of her flesh under my hand although it left my hand stinging for a few hours afterwards. She always left with a bright pink bottom and a smile on her face. She also paid well.
My second client could not have been more different. Much older to begin with, possibly older than me, she was always very elegantly dressed. She would phone me, usually once a week, in her rather stern telephone voice, to make an appointment. She had a story about how her husband made her come to me, but I was doubtful. She always brought with her a handwritten note stating why she needed to be punished. Unlike my other client she insisted on being naked. As she undressed, she changed from the assertive woman who had just come in, to the cowed and timid submissive which was the role she chose to play. For her age she was a fine figure of a woman, with small and still quite pert breasts. I made her stand in front of the desk as I slowly read the note. I knew it was all a game and I wasn't even sure she was married but I went along with it. It was usually some trivial domestic matter such as burning the Sunday joint or committing a faux pas when dining with friends.
We then had to discuss what she thought would be a suitable punishment. After having tried all my devices the flogger had become her firm favourite. Usually, I would go along with her choice although occasionally I would assert my authority and choose for her. I knew she hated the single tailed whip, and I often chose that just to see the expression on her face when I told her. This time she again chose the flogger and I agreed, much to her relief. She then chose which part of her was to be punished depending on the severity of her misdemeanour. This week she chose breasts, but I said no, having read the note, it was to be her cunt. She looked shocked and horrified and tears filled her eyes, but she simply bowed her head and muttered, "yes, Sir."
I carefully and deliberately cleared my desk, putting the laptop and all but the flogger into drawers before I stood up. She knew the routine and slowly and reluctantly she lay back on the desk, lifted her legs and splayed her knees wide, using her hands to hold them steady. She already knew that things would get worse if she flinched and closed them. I stood to one side and brought the flogger down twice on each breast. It was unexpected and she gasped with surprise and shock. Two more to her belly which made her cry out and then I walked further round the desk to admire the view.
Her cunt was already wet and gleaming. I gave a sharp blow to the inside of each thigh and then without pausing, a sharp smack of the flogger on her vulnerable cunt. Her knees twitched slightly but stayed open. She was sobbing quietly. I gave her another hit, but she remained stoical, accepting her fate. Two more strikes followed, and her sobbing grew louder. I admired her courage as I had not been gentle with her. I gave her a final and forceful hit and stood back.
"You may stand up now," I told her as I walked back to my chair.
It was a painful and slow process but eventually she stood before me, her face a picture of misery.
"Not so prim and proper now, are you," I said sarcastically, "let's hope you have learned your lesson and will be more attentive to your husband's needs."
It was important to her that she play the role of the subservient wife and I was happy to go along with it.
"I will, Sir, and thank you for teaching me."
I dismissed her and she dressed quickly but with care. She looked immaculate once more as she always did when she left although she walked a little awkwardly.
I became a little anxious about the delivery of my clamps, but they finally arrived the day before Hanna's appointment date. After taking each of them out of their annoying blister packs I examined them carefully one by one. They were beautiful to look at and amazing pieces of engineering. I love the way they tightened as you pulled on the chains. I went back onto the website with the intention of thanking them and praising their products but managed to find a short video tutorial on their safe use. Having watched it a couple of times and understanding the clamps a little more I went out straight away to a fishing tackle shop just around the corner. I bought a variety of sea fishing weights of assorted sizes and a collection of barbless hooks.
Back at the office my tinkering skills came to the fore. Using fine copper wire and a soldering iron I attached the hooks to the weights and then blunted the tips. After all I didn't want to cause an injury. I put them all away in a drawer. I still had a full day to wait before I could try them out.
When she turned up the next day, I was warned by the motion sensor on the camera. I watched as she took off her coat and laid it over the banister. I picked up the microphone.
"Please strip and put your clothes in the box by the door."
I watched with amusement as she looked around, desperately searching for the source of the voice.
"At once!" I said firmly enough to make her jump.
She looked up and down the stairwell in case anyone was coming or going and then nervously began to strip. It was the same knotted top as last week but a different skirt. She folded them neatly and put them in the box before standing upright.
"The shoes as well ... and the coat."
This last order seemed to surprise her, but she did as she was told. She then bent forward as if to knock on the door.
"I shall be a few minutes," I told her, "Assume your proper position and wait. I will call when I am ready."
I smiled as she hesitated and then slowly put her hands behind her head. I owned and occupied the whole building and knew there was little chance of any visitors, but the door to the street was wide open. The sun was streaming in and the shadows of passing strangers must have unnerved her. I let her stew for five minutes before calling out, "Come!" I was surprised how quick she was, grabbing the door handle and letting herself in, rapidly shutting it behind herself. She breathed a sigh of relief and came and stood in front of the desk. She saw the shiny glints of the array of clamps and their chains displayed before her and her eyes widened. She must have seen them before and probably used them as well. I know that K used them extensively in her work.
"Sorry for the delay, I was busy with other things. But you are here now. As you can see, I have been shopping. Do you like my new toys? I'm sure you are familiar with them, is that correct?"
"Y ... y ... yes, Sir." she stammered.
"Then let us begin today's exercises."
Last week I had made her put the pegs on herself but today I wanted to evaluate my new pegs for myself. I stood up, picking up a pair linked by a chain. I walked around the desk and stood in front of her. She was gazing fixedly at the floor, and I had to put a hand under her chin forcing her head up and making her look at me. I held up one of the pair of clamps, opening and closing it tauntingly. I saw a look of fear cross her face and then a jump and a frown of pain as I took hold of her nipple. Her eyes were fixed on the animated clamp, but her thoughts were only on her nipple as I squeezed it hard. I had to avert my eyes from her face to concentrate as I lowered the clamp and carefully fixed it to her nipple. I heard her quick gasp as it bit for the first time.
I allowed the feeling to sink in as the weight of the chain and the second clamp pulled at the first. Then, I lifted the second clamp and fixed it to her other nipple. The chain hung in a smooth catenary curve between them. Her eyes had closed, and her frown said it all.
"Keep your eyes open, bitch," I remonstrated.
