Dose Of Maya Ch 02

Hi, guys. I've decided to write the story with a non-linear approach. I have made distinctions between before and after Joe's submission. I wish I would've written in a linear approach, but that required a long setup with no action. I wanted to balance them both. So, here we are. Hope you'll like it.

Chapter 2: Samantha

Joe worked in an accounting firm. He walked towards his cabin, which was not his solo cabin. It is a mid-sized room where he works with two other people, his subordinates. Similar rooms are constructed to the edges of a large workspace leaving the middle open. The central space is filled with cubicles in such a way that leaves a nice room for walking in the middle.

A woman was looking at him from the open cubicles. Joe knew that women found him attractive. He was wearing a black and white business suit. He was nicely built and not just muscular, with a clean-shaven face except for the mustache. And his hair... Ah yes! His hair is just perfect. A man could only dream of that hair. He acknowledged her with a nod and walked on smiling.

His boss just yelled at him, so he was not happy. They were running late on a deadline, and his boss went too far with the scolding. So, he was angry himself. He reached his room, extended his hand, and pushed open the door. The room was filled with soft laughs by the two girls looking at each other. He heard her say, "He really said that. Aww." They were sitting facing the wall and sides towards the door. Maya and Samantha are beautiful women, friendly and almost always agreeable.

Maya just noticed him, her laugh vanished, and maybe his frustration was visible on his face. Maya was sitting cross-legged on her chair, her elbow on the arm of the chair and her chin resting on her closed fist. She was wearing a pantsuit. Samantha was in a skirt and suit. She looked back and noted him after a sudden silence from her friend.

Joe strolled in and asked, "Maya, what is the report status?"

"Ah, I'm working on it." She replied.

"I said status, didn't I." He put in firmly. He was never this firm with her before. She sure was shocked by his tone.

"Oh. A few calculations are pending, and a few documents are yet to be received from the client. I have to verify those."

"So, no improvement. Same as before." He said annoyingly.

"Same as before." She agreed with a hint of guilt. He knew he was projecting, and there was no need for this argument. It was a case of client-side pending. But at the moment, he was not listening to his rational mind. Chain of yelling, right? The wife yells at the boss, the boss yells at the manager, manager yells at the employees. So, he did that.

"What are you even doing here? If there is no improvement in the work, why do you even care to come to the office?" He animatedly flung his hands all around. "Just sit in your house and watch romance movies all the time." Clutching both of his hands to his chest, "Ah! He said that. Just dream over some random non-existent guy." Flinging his hands again.

Oh, he shouldn't have said that. Oh, that was not good at all, yet the yelling continued. "Here you are laughing at each other jokes, and the VP was yelling at me for YOUR incompetency. And I..."

Suddenly he was not feeling angry, that was good, right? Now he listened to his rational mind. He regretted everything he had said to her. If his boss went too far, he went way too far with Maya. He wanted to apologize to her immediately and couldn't make himself do that. His comments were not only rude but also misogynistic. He didn't know where that came from. So, he stood there, looked at her for a second, and walked towards his desk.

He sat down and noticed Maya was looking at him. Samantha was set on her screen as if she had no part in this. Maya was staring at him like she was expecting an apology. That look somehow conveyed a sense of a last chance, and he couldn't have made himself apologize to her. So, he turned his attention to the screen in front of him. Maya looked at him for only a few seconds. After that, she rotated her chair, put herself into her work, and shook her head like it was a mistake on Joe's part.

Yes, it was a huge mistake on Joe's part which most definitely would ruin his life.

________

Samantha entered the elevator just after an old-aged woman. She was holding the leash of his puppy in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other. She likes puppies. She has a dog waiting for her in her apartment. Just after the elevator doors shut, she bent down to pet the puppy. The old woman, Mrs. Moore, had put down the grocery bag. She smiled at her as she continued playing with the dog. A 'bing' announced Mrs. Moore's floor. She tried to get her bag up, but Samantha got there first.

"Mrs. Moore, please let me help you to your apartment." She said.

"No, Sam, I can do it myself. I don't want to trouble you." She replied

"What trouble, Mrs. Moore? I'll be carrying just a bag. Please, I insist."

Mrs. Moore just nodded. She walked beside her slowly, and her dog walked in front of them. They reached her apartment in no time. Mrs. Moore opened the door and walked through it, taking the bag from her extended hands. She invited her for a cup of tea, but Samantha declined, "I have some work to do."

"Hmm. How is the new boyfriend?" she asked.

"He is not new, Mrs. Moore. I've been dating him for months now." She said.

"Oh! Is he anywhere near... advancing to the next stage."

"We'll have to see. Don't we, Mrs. Moore?" She laughed.

"Take care with this one because the last one was ugly. After he left you, it was uglier." She said with concern in his voice.

"I will, just after this work gets done. Thank you." She said

She shut his door behind her back. Mrs. Moore helped quite a bit when Steve left her. She is a good person. Samantha reached her floor in the elevator and walked out of it. Turning left, she started toward her apartment. When she got to her door, before turning the key, she put one eye on the peephole and closed the other to look inside. She saw Joe lounging on her armchair in front of the TV with his eyes closed and head resting. He seemed relaxed or trying to relax. That made her indignant. He was supposed to be cleaning her house. 'He shows such obedience when he is with Maya and not with me. She has to teach him a lesson.' she thought to herself.

She opened the door with furiousness and waltzed through it. Joe was kneeling beside the armchair just as her eyes set on him. He looked into her eyes for a second. Then he lowered his head and looked at her feet. He might have heard the door and scrambled into that position. Was that a challenge she saw in his eyes for a moment? 'Maybe he is not completely broken as Maya seemed to believe. This lovey-dovey approach will not work when taming someone. I have to be strong like Maya.' She thought.

That's when she got a comprehensive look at her house. The house was clean. She looked to her left, and the shoes on her shoe stand looked pristine. Wet marks on some of them haven't completely dried up yet. This was a no-shoe household, but it was not anymore. There was no point when you had someone to clean all the filth that shoes carry into the house. She walked towards Joe slowly like a tiger prowling towards her prey. The moment she reached him, he bent down and planted a kiss on each of her sneakers. She was sweating like a pig because she had a long workout session. She could feel the soaked socks on her feet. She couldn't wait to drench his face in her sweat. But that had to wait because discipline comes first. 'He might have escaped getting caught red-handed. If he lies, he will pay for it.' she thought.

"What are you doing?" she asked with hands on her hips and looking down at him.

"I was told to clean the house and wait for you, my Mistress." He replied with his eyes still set on her feet. 'Not a lie.' She told herself.

"When you completed the tasks you were handed, you are supposed to wait at the door. Bowing to my shoes. Bowing your head so low that it should touch the floor." She said firmly.

He looked up at her and said, "I'm sorry, mistress. I made a mistake." He must have felt the fury in her eyes, so he lowered his head again. This time, his head touched the ground. And then he said, "I didn't know, mistress. My instructions were not clear..." He stopped abruptly. Samantha was even more furious that he had tried to insinuate that the fault was on her side. He shivered, and maybe he realized what he was about to say. So, he kissed the floor near her feet and continued, "I was told to clean the house and wait for you, my Mistress." He gulped, "So, I cleaned and waited here by kneeling beside your couch, mistress. Now."

'He said 'Now,' It was technically not a lie.' She thought. Her train of thought didn't stop there. 'What are you looking for, Sam? A solid reason to beat him. He disobeyed, overreached himself, and blamed you for his fault. Maybe not his fault, but he had dared to defy you. That is sufficient reason to reprimand him. Stop looking for a rational reason because this situation has past being rational a long time ago. He sat on your chair, and he should know his place in this house is on his knees. That should be enough.' Another side of her mind seemed to say that. 'So what? He sat on my chair, and now I should beat him senseless.' She battled with herself. She knew deep down that's what she wanted. Before she could get herself to an answer, she heard soft sobs from below.

"What?" She said harshly.

Joe shivered again, and the sobs grew a bit louder. After a moment of not answering, that seemed to drag like an hour. He controlled his sobs, looked up, and said, "I'm sorry, mistress. I disobeyed you. I sat on your chair. I know my place is only at your feet." His eyes were red and filled with tears. "My mind sometimes.." He swallowed. "My mind sometimes tries to challenge you, mistress. It tells me to defy my orders, mistress." He started sobbing again. He spoke with little sobs in the middle, "I don't want to listen to it. Sometimes I couldn't help but listen to it. I couldn't imagine disobeying you, mistress. Please punish me, mistress. And take that horrible habit out of me. Please punish me." He continued saying 'punish me' and sobbed here and there.

'There, he asked it himself. That should settle it.' She slapped him right across his face as hard as she could and did the same to the other cheek with a backhand. She repeated it with the other hand, a slap on one cheek and backhand returning on the other cheek. Then she stopped herself, not intending to proceed any further.

'Sam, the poor guy is struggling with himself. The least you can do is help him. What you're doing is not punishing, you are correcting him.' She resigned herself to punish him. No, to correct him. And a smile appeared on her face. The sobs from Joe grew a little bit louder as her face beamed with joy.

She walked into her room and brought out a whip. It was short, made of leather, and had a few loose strands at the end of the whip. Those strands were to deliver maximum impact. She had used it on him only once for testing when she bought it a few weeks ago. She had felt good while using it but she had to control herself. So, only after two lashes did she put it away. She came out with one hand on the handle and the other running up and down on the leather. Her smile was as big as it had ever been. She was going to enjoy this.

"Get up, Kneel in front of the table. Throw your body on it, and lay flat on your face. Stretch your hands forward. As far as you can." He obeyed just as she let out the commands. She didn't want to hit anywhere near where people could see, not even accidentally. So her sole target was going to be his back. "Don't utter a word, be silent. Don't even count the strokes." In some instruction videos, they made the sub count the strokes while whipping.

It was, in part, to know how much pain they were bearing and also about the humiliation. She didn't feel pleasure because of the pain or humiliation. She would feel it because of the power. Power one holds on the other human. She could not understand why she enjoyed it, only knew that she did. He is at her mercy, and that makes her feel good. Just as when she raised her whip to hit, she realized she had forgotten something. Her smile didn't slip one bit.

"Up. Kneel. Face me." She said, holding both ends of the whip just below her breasts. As Joe obeyed the orders, he came face to face with the whip.

"Kiss the whip." She said. Like a puppet on a string, he bent forward, kissed it, and reverted to the original position. As no other order followed, he raised his head to look at her.

She raised her eyebrow and said, "Did I tell you to stop?" Even before she stopped speaking, he started planting kisses on the whip.

"I didn't think so." She seemed to say that to herself.

"Left to right," She said. He started kissing the whip in every spot.

After, what seemed like a minute, she said, "Assume the position." He bent down on the table and stretched his arms forward. She ran her hand on the whip from right to left. Finally, holding the whip only with her right hand, she took a few steps backward and put her left leg forward to have control while landing the strokes. She stood, in such a way, that in a swing, the meaty part of the whip would land directly on his back, and the strands would hit the side part of his body. She couldn't contain her excitement. She raised her hand, and with a wild swing, she landed the whip on his back. He whipped his head back in pain. Apart from the muffled sounds from his clenched teeth, no sound came from him. She was surprised by the restraint shown by Joe. That was a hard hit, and he didn't even whimper. That encouraged her more. Because here was a man taking hits on his back and not making a sound, just because she said not to.

ONE, TWO, THREE...

She felt intoxicated by that power. So, she continued landing the lashes, and the muffled sounds continued. She noticed that Joe had his fists closed tightly. The last time she saw his fingers, he had fingernails. If he held his fist any more tightly, blood would flow out of his hand. Images ran through her mind, blood oozing out of his hand, clenched teeth, whip marks on his back, pain firing up his insides, yet he was set on not making a sound. That made her even hornier, and she hit him harder.

SEVENTEEN, EIGHTEEN.

He made a noise. He might have been in so much pain. She can tell that much. But, now, that would not stop her.

"QUIET." She bellowed with all the air in her lungs. All Joe could manage was, "I'm sorry," while stammering. She lashed at him harder. His head whipped back with every stroke, and only small 'Ahs' came out of his mouth. She might have entered a flow state because nothing seemed to hinder her concentration. She was only there to punish him. The sounds like 'Ahs' and muffled tones are only encouragement to hit him more. Those sounds were like applause to continue her magnificent and all-important work.

FORTY-THREE, FORTY-FOUR.

Her arm ached a little bit. That was like only a small pebble in her shoe. But the scream which came next broke her concentration completely. It was a scream, and the walls were thick in her apartments. So, It might not be heard outside her house. She saw the marks on his back. Those covered all of his back. A zebra came to her mind, red stretches on his otherwise pale skin. And concern came to her mind as fast as she realized how much that would've hurt him. She rushed forward in front of him. Joe raised his head from her feet to her face. What Samantha saw broke her. His face was red, and tears were streaming down his face. He smiled when he saw her face and said, "I'm relieved, mistress. I will not displease you anymore, mistress." He smiled with all of his teeth. "Don't worry, mistress. I can take more if you want."

She scrambled around and hurried to her bedroom. She threw away the whip and found an ointment to rub on his wounds. She came back to the living room in the same hurry. She found him not moved a single inch and with a smile. How can a person be treated so brutally and have a smile on their face at the end of it? She could understand it as much as she could understand her liking towards the brutality she inflicted on him.

She sat on her chair and said, "Come." He hadn't tried to stand and walk. He got up on his knees and crawled to her. Just like he said, 'I know my place is only at your feet.' When he reached her, he stayed on all fours. She wanted to tell him to stand up and never kneel in front of anyone. She couldn't, wouldn't, make herself do that. He needed her just as much as she needed him, especially in that position. The best she could do was to show some love. Just like a pet receives love from its owner, after training. She would show him love and punish him when he made any mistake. That still made her uncomfortable. Finally, she thought, 'I will give him a choice about punishment. He will choose what he wants.'

"On your knees, and turn your back to me." He did as he was told. She saw the full extent of the injury she caused him. That made her disgusted and proud at the same time. The lashes bulged on his skin, she ran her hand on his back. He winced in pain. They felt like speed bumps on a flat road. She opened the tube and laid a strip of ointment on her finger. "This is going to sting, don't flinch, okay?" She said. She applied that ointment on the first lash. Joe winced but didn't flinch. She knew he was in so much pain. She said, "I will not punish you again, don't worry, okay."

He sharply turned his head to her with pleading eyes and said, "Please, mistress, don't do such a thing." She raised an eyebrow, he turned his back to her again. She continued the routine of putting ointment on her finger and running her finger on a lash in a smooth movement.

He, too, continued with a pleading tone in his voice, "Mistress, please don't do that. You have to punish me. My mind has me a hostage, mistress. It wants me to disobey you. Most of the time, I will not listen to it. But sometimes, the control is as tight as a spider's web, and I would succumb to that. The pain when you punish me will help me make the right decisions. I can't imagine disobeying you, but I know if I leave it to myself. I will disobey you, and that makes me feel bad. The pain will help me abide by your orders. I've struggled all my life not knowing what I want. Just when I found out what I wanted, please don't throw me back into that confused state again. I struggled all my life to get here. Please, let me be free. Let me have a meaningful existence under your feet. Because that is where my place is, mistress." He finished.

She finished applying the medicine to his back. She put her hands on his shoulders and turned him to her. She cupped his head and said, "I will punish you when you make a mistake. Please don't make me punish you because you will not like it." He smiled and bent down to kiss her shoes, whispering 'Thank you, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.'

She picked him up, still on his knees, and kissed him on his forehead. She pulled him into an embrace, caressing his face with one hand and running the other on his head like petting a puppy. As she ran her hand through the stubs of hair on his head, she realized that Maya did a number on him. She turned a beautiful man into an ugly creature. At least the eyebrows had completely grown, and his hair would grow in time. If there is one thing she wouldn't let Maya do to him, it is to cut his hair again. She wouldn't let her pet get ugly again. That's how she saw him now, he was her dog. She would use him. She would punish him. She would love him.