Sylvia's Switch

Everyone in this story is over eighteen, and so should you be!

My mistress Susana called me into her study one day, about two weeks after our return from Mexico, and I had no idea what she wanted, so I was surprised when she asked me if I could take charge of one of her most prestigious branches for a couple of weeks, while the manageress was on holiday. When I protested that I didn't have enough Spanish, she waved away my fears, saying that I was perfectly fluent enough, and, anyway, more than half the clients were foreigners anyway, and my English would be more than useful.

I was, however, still nervous, when I dressed on the morning I was due to start, slipping on the pleated blue miniskirt and white silk blouse that was to be my uniform for the duration of the job. Apart from a pair of patent stilettos, I wore nothing else, unless you counted my mistress's silver-studded collar, and the fine gold waist chain, items I always wore. I had Paloma put my auburn hair up in a businesslike French knot, and, checking my image in the entrance-hall mirror, I decided I could summon Lola to take me to work.

For a day or two I found that my training in the UK stood me in good stead, and my Spanish never let me down – the three young girls I had as assistants helped me a great deal anyway.

Then, after about three days, a couple walked into the store, and I did a double-take. The tall blonde girl in the pink silk trouser-suit was surely a British film-starlet, whose name was on everyone's lips, and she was accompanied by a flash-looking guy in his thirties, wearing an Armani suit.

She walked straight up to me.

'Hi, I'm Kathy,' she said. It wasn't the name she was known to the public by.

'And this is Mark. I want two or three outfits, complete with accessories, and I've been told this is

the

place!' Her accent was middle-class English, and she seemed pleasant enough, but I wasn't sure about Mark, who lounged around, regarding me with a sneer on his handsome face.

'OK, Kathy,' I said, and introduced myself, then said, 'come with me, and we'll see what we can do.'

'Oh, thank God you're English,' she said, 'can Mark come to?'

'Sure,' I replied, though I had rather he wasn't there.

I led them into the huge fitting room at the back, where there were rows an rows of racks and rails, on which hung thousands of gowns of all kinds. Down one side were changing rooms, and I installed Kathy in one, and brought her several dresses of the various types she asked for, while Mark sat on an armchair at the opposite side. After several tries, Kathy pronounced herself pleased with two evening gowns and two day-dresses I had brought her, and I thought she looked lovely in them too.

'Can you fix me up with shoes to match?' she asked.

'Yes, but I'll have to go into the stock-room, if you'd care to wait. You can be trying on a couple more dresses if you like.'

She grinned, and I left to cross the room to the stock-room. Once there, I was so busy reaching up to the shelves, engrossed in reading off the sizes on the boxes, that I didn't realise Mark had come in behind me, and was pressed up against me.

He roughly pulled up my skirt, and grunted when he realised I wore no panties. His hands pulled me by my waist, before I had time to yell, and I felt his erection hard against my buttocks.

I struggled around and pulled myself free, ducking out of his grasp, and fetched him a stinging slap across the face.

'Get off me, you dirty bastard!' I shouted.

'You whore!' he shouted, 'no knickers, asking for it!'

'No, no!' I yelled, 'get away from me. I don't…..I don't…..you don't understand!'

'I sure do!' he shouted back, 'you're a fucking dyke bitch!' – and, with that, he stormed down the narrow store and out, nearly knocking over his girlfriend, who, hearing the commotion, was standing at the doorway, open-mouthed.

'Just fuck right off!' she shouted after him, as he marched out of the fitting room, overturning a rail full of dresses. Then she turned to me, tears in her eyes.

'Oh, Sylvia,' she said, 'the bastard! How could he?' She stroked my arm and I could see she cared.

'He's history,' she said, 'I didn't like him much anyway!'

'It's not your fault,' I said, 'forget it, eh?'

She smiled wanly, and we went about the business of fixing her up with some shoes. When we had finished, she paid with her Gold Card, and promised to call me. I thought no more of the incident – after all, it wasn't all that unusual for men to make the mistake of coming on to me, and I could usually put them down gracefully; it just wasn't a good idea to get trapped in the stockroom with a horny stud.

A couple of days later, then, I was surprised to be called to the phone, and to find that my caller was none other than Kathy.

'Have dinner with me,' she said.

'I really can't,' I said, thinking immediately of Susana's likely reaction to my having dinner with another woman. But I also realised that I wouldn't mind seeing the pretty blonde again.

'Lunch, then?' she suggested.

'OK,' I agreed, 'when?'

'Tomorrow, two o'clock, at my hotel?' She told me the name of the hotel, perhaps the best in Madrid, and it was just around the corner from the store. I was to ask for her in reception: 'Miss Turner.' It was clear that she liked her anonymity.

I was unaccountably nervous all the next morning, and thought lunchtime would never come. But it did, eventually, and I found myself, a bit earlier than I had intended, standing in the palatial lobby of the plush hotel, feeling like Cinderella, asking timidly for Miss Turner,

'Suite 411,' a uniformed flunky answered crisply, directing me to an elevator, which hefted me silently to the appropriate floor. I trod the thick maroon carpet to her door, and rang the bell.

Kathy came to the door, wrapped in a black silk kimono, decorated with flowers and a big gold dragon. Her long blonde hair was pinned up, but wispy strands had escaped around her pretty face.

'Hello,' she said, 'come in – you're early! Why don't you join me in the Jacuzzi while we wait for the lunch to be sent up?' She paused as I followed her into the huge and luxurious split-level suite. Turning to me she said, 'You're not shy, are you?'

Without waiting for an answer, she stepped up to the rim of the enormous hot-tub, which was bubbling away on the lower level of the suite, and shrugged the kimono off her slender shoulders, revealing a body which had been seen in nude scenes on the big screen, but still impressed me with its grace and elegance, her long legs and narrow waist in perfect symmetry with her lovely swelling buttocks and firm round breasts. I hoped I wasn't staring, but she didn't seem to notice, anyway, and, sitting on the edge of the Jacuzzi, she patted the rim beside her, and said, 'Come on then, join me!'

I was, of course, no stranger to nudity, and hardly susceptible to shyness, but, for some reason, trembled as I undid the fastening on my skirt, and slipped out of skirt and blouse under the gaze of this gorgeous creature, whose eye widened when she saw that I was quite naked under my uniform skirt and blouse, apart from the fine gold chain I wore around my waist, and my mistress's collar, of course. I kicked off my shoes and lowered myself onto the rim of the Jacuzzi opposite Kathy, grinning back at her reassuring smile. But her eyes, I realised, were on the fading welts just above my breasts, the only visible signs she could see of the most recent whipping my mistress had given me. I had been careful not to turn my back to her, so that she would see the much more readily visible marks I wore there. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, and then thought better of it. I decided I didn't know her well enough to enlighten her – yet.

Kathy pressed a button on a console, and the warm, silky water started to bubble and become more turbulent. I slipped down and let the water wash around me, felt the touch of Kathy's long legs against mine – a natural, unselfconscious, friendly touch, into which I read nothing. She was smiling at me now, and we both enjoyed the simple pleasure of having our bodies pampered, until her alarm sounded, telling her it was time to emerge for our lunch. I had forgotten all about my welts by now, and, when she helped me into a towelling robe she lent me, I inadvertently offered her a grandstand view of my back, with its fading ladder-pattern of whip-marks, which Mistress Susana had inflicted upon me about a week previously, when she had suspended me naked from the chain hanging from her bedroom ceiling, and flogged me mercilessly with her long leather riding whip.

I heard the sudden intake of breath escape Kathy's lips as she saw the healing wounds on my back, and she turned me around, and looked me directly in the eye.

'I don't expect you to understand,' I said, by way of explanation, before she could speak.

'But you let him do

that

to you?' she looked at me, her beautiful blue eyes wide.

'Not

him,'

I corrected her.

'Oh…..oh,' she said, shaking her head, then she smiled, and at that moment, the doorbell sounded.

'Saved by the bell,' I said.

Kathy laughed, a lovely sound, and called to the room-service waiters to wheel in our lunch, which looked delicious.

It was a wonderful meal, not least because of the relaxed company of my new film-star friend. Over coffee, though, she started to quiz me about my life – had noticed the strange collar I wore, with its inset ring, to which mistress attached my leash, and was particularly interested, of course in the punishment I had undergone. When I tried to explain to her that I sometime craved punishment so much that I begged my mistress for it, she shook her head. I insisted in taking her hair out of its restraining pins then, so that it would fall free around her shoulders when she did that, and my touch led to a kiss, at first a chaste little peck, then she took my head between her hands and kissed me deeply, her breathing coming rapidly. I pushed my studded tongue gently between her lips, feeling it click against her even white teeth, and she gasped as our tongues intertwined, and I stroked the silken mane of her fine blonde hair.

I couldn't deny a surge of desire for Kathy as I held her slender body close, inhaled her perfume, felt her smooth flesh, but I pulled back, and Kathy knew, sensed my reluctance to give myself.

'I understand, Sylvia,' she whispered, 'but I want you, so much. Perhaps…..?' The question hung in the air between us, and I found myself inviting her to come and see us at home, without really knowing what my mistress's reaction would be. It was arranged that she would telephone that evening and we would fix an evening for her to come to dinner. When I left the hotel to return to work, I wondered what on earth I had let myself in for.

My nerves were on edge all day that Tuesday, two days after I finished my stint at the store, and I could hardly wait for eight o'clock to come around. Come it did, and a taxi rolled to halt outside our door almost on the hour. Paloma, dressed in her usual maid's uniform, opened the door to our guest, and I was waiting in the entrance hall to greet her.

'You look fantastic!' I said, and meant it. She wore a long scarlet silk gown she had bought a couple of weeks previously at our store. It was backless, and she managed to look both elegant and sensual. Her long blonde hair was set up in an intricate swirl on top of her head, showing the graceful arch of her long neck, where she wore a beautiful diamante choker, with long, matching pendants in her ear-lobes.

'But just look at you,' she said, as she embraced me, then held me at arms' length by the shoulders and looked at me from head to toe, 'I've never seen anything so erotic in my life!'

My mistress had given me express instructions as to what I was to wear for this evening – 'We must impress our guest, my dear, mustn't we?' So I was dressed in a translucent black sheath-dress, with long, tight sleeves and a high neck, beneath which I was entirely naked, except for a heavy silver chain around my waist. I wore matching black silk gloves, and black stilettos, and, as I walked, felt the weight of a heavy chain my mistress had told me to clip to attach to my clit-ring. I wore my hair long and straight for the evening. My nipples were hard, and quite visible, against the thin material of the dress.

Whilst I was greeting Kathy, Mistress Susana appeared, dressed, as she often was, in a long, graceful black velvet creation with pearl accessories. She was quite charming to our guest, of course, and, after formalities, rang a little bell she kept in the entrance hall. In scurried Adela, dressed in a short, silky, cream-coloured, flared mini-dress, which appeared to be her sole garment, and it was the first time I had seen her in anything but her maid's uniform. Her pointed breasts jiggled suggestively as she approached.

'Adela will attend to any needs you may have, Kathy. Now we can go in to dinner, I think,' said Susana, and produced my leash from somewhere as if by magic, and clipped it to my collar.

Kathy looked on in amazement, as my mistress led me in to dinner. It was, of course, for her benefit – my mistress liked to demonstrate her dominance whenever we had guests, and I also took pride in being my mistress's slave on these occasions. Kathy herself was ushered along by the attentive Adela, eager to try out her meagre English on our guest, and proud of being allowed to sit at the table with us for once.

Conversation was relaxed, if occasionally suggestive, during dinner, and I felt a little sorry for Adela, who had difficulty in keeping up with the English. When Paloma served coffee in the lounge, my mistress whispered something to her, and the maid looked wide-eyed with shock, as she turned away, and hesitated in the doorway, turning half back towards us.

'¡Vete ya!'

ordered Susana – 'go now!' She turned and did as she was told.

We had scarcely finished our coffee when the young maid reappeared, this time dressed in a long plain white cotton shift, which hung straight from bow-ties at her slim shoulders to the floor. Her long black hair, which she always wore loose, in a cascade down her back, was pinned up on top of her head. She shuffled along slowly, not at all the sprightly skip that was her normal gait. As she came closer, I saw she was dragging a heavy chain along the floor – her ankles were shackled.

'I enjoy ritual,' explained Susana, for Kathy's benefit – I was already aware of that fact – 'and I have decreed that Paloma is to be punished this evening.'

'What has she done wrong?' asked Kathy.

Susana smiled. 'It is sufficient that I have decided it necessary, I think. Sylvia will understand, won't you, my dear?'

'Yes, mistress,' I agreed. I knew that Paloma had yet to taste my mistress's whip, in the five or six weeks she had been with us, and that she was overdue for her first session of strict discipline. I also guessed that she was no stranger to occasional punishment, from her previous employment in Mexico.

I was sat beside my mistress on one sofa, Kathy and Adela kitty-corner to us on the other, and Paloma stood uncomfortably before us, her eyes cast downwards. My mistress had the end of my leash trailing loosely across her lap, and now gave it a sharp tug. I leant towards her to receive her instructions, then nodded and got up, and went to Paloma. I flipped open the bows at her shoulder and her shift fell to the floor, revealing her slender young form – naked and shaven, she looked much younger than her twenty two years. She was unadorned, save for the shiny iron anklets which were connected by a short length of heavy chain.

'¡Date la vuelta!' –'

turn around!' rapped Susana, and when she did, I stood aside, so that my mistress could see that Paloma was indeed wearing the butt-plug she had been obliged to insert – its silver flange was clearly visible protruding from her anus.

'Hmm,' was all my mistress said, while I went to the dresser and fetched the silver handcuffs I had been told to get. Paloma whimpered as I snapped them in place and carried on doing so as I led her into position below the chain, which I knew would descend from the ceiling when my mistress touched a button on her console. As I did so I had to walk her past Kathy, and I couldn't help noticing that her lovely blue eyes were bright with excitement at what was taking place before her. She had a hand on Adela's thigh, and was gently stroking it, while the Spanish girl's eyes were hooded, and her breast rose and fell as if she was breathing rapidly. I turned my attention to the job in hand.

The chain descended with a slight whirr, and I raised the servant's trembling arms and slipped the chain that joined her cuffs through the snap-link at the end of the chain. My mistress pressed the button again and Paloma's arms were stretched to the limit, so that she was forced to stand on tip-toe, and she gasped with the sudden discomfort. I thought she looked lovely, suspended there, so vulnerable, her mouth slightly open, as she anticipated the pain she was about to experience, revealing the new tongue-stud Adela had taken her to have fitted a few days previously. I fetched the tray containing my mistress's favourite instruments from the dresser. My mistress took the tray from me, and handed me the long leather paddle.

'Warm her arse a little, darling!' she said, 'then I'll take over.'

'But mistress, I….!' I began to protest, not having whipped anyone before.

'Do it!' she said, harshly, and I knew better than to argue.

I walked over to Paloma and gave her two or three tentative swishes across her lovely rounded arse-cheeks with the thin leather paddle.

'Come along, Sylvia, much, much harder, or I shall be obliged to give you a demonstration, which, by the way, I know you would enjoy, you little slut!'

My mistress was on her feet, behind me, now, and I drew my arm back and lashed the young servant fiercely across the fleshiest part of her buttocks, instantly bringing up a bright red wheal and causing her to scream and lurch against her bonds.

Mistress Susana told her to be quiet, and slapped her resoundingly across her cheek as a reminder, then pushed me out of the way.

'Go and sit down, Sylvia. I'll give her a little taste of a real whipping now.'

She had in her hand her favourite long bull-whip, which required her to stand back behind the sofa where Kathy and Adela were sitting. I glanced in their direction, and Kathy's hand was now right up under the hem of Adela's short skirt, moving rhythmically, and Adela's eyes were quite closed, her breath coming in short gasps. Kathy too looked terribly aroused as my attention switched back to my mistress. She flicked out the long, snaking lash of the whip with an expert turn of her wrist, and it sped through the air, curling itself unerringly around the tiny waist of the imprisoned servant-girl, who let out an awful moan as the leather thong bit into her tender flesh.

Before she had time to recover from the first stroke, the second was on its way, this time the small know at the end of the lash just touching the side of her breast as a length lay across her lovely back, making a thin, deep red stripe she would wear with pride for some time. Four more strokes I counted, each drawing a louder moan from Paloma's lips, each making a nice red welt on her hitherto unblemished flesh. The last one, which my mistress described as a 'special one' she laid across the top of the girl's thighs, bringing a scream of agony from her. Then she calmly lay aside her whip and came up to Paloma. After releasing her from the overhead chain, she took her head in both hands, and kissed her, long and searchingly, then let one hand stray down her body to the girl's belly, gently prising her legs apart like a tender lover. Her hand stayed between Paloma's legs, probing her moist, warm pussy.