This story is entirely fictional and is intended as a fantasy in the world of female domination and male submission. It involves tease and denial with and without the use of a male chastity device, cuckoldry and corporal punishment. No part of this story is written to suggest such lifestyles were realistic or believable. The characters, named and unnamed, are not based on any living or deceased persons. All locations, whether named or otherwise, in this story, including the nation of Siskovia Province, the city of Keara, and Casavana Prison, are also fictitious, and any similarities to any that exist anywhere, are coincidental. If you are not interested in fiction in which males, whether willingly or forced, submit to dominant females, or find such subjects objectionable and in opposition to your own preferences, I would strongly suggest you exercise your right not to read any further.
Chapter 10
Becky reminded me with a phone call on Wednesday morning that today was the day Madam Popescu was arriving from Siskovia Province to visit her casinos. I didn't need the reminder as I couldn't think of anything else since Becky had gone back to Gina's flat two days earlier.
I think my biggest fear was Madam Popescu's response to reading the diary I'd written. A major secret I'd kept from her was that Elena had given me internet access to contact Cassie during my final few months of incarceration. No doubt that was against the law for me to have done that, and fearing what would happen if she discovered that little deception gave me cause for concern.
Over the last couple of days, I had toyed with the idea of inviting my friends along for the evening; protection maybe? But each time I considered it, I came to the same conclusion that it may complicate things and even risk the truth slipping out of what really happened when I disappeared for eighteen months. Becky was doing a lot of accountancy stuff now for Madam Popescu and being extremely well paid for it. The contract she had entered into with the casino owner was very lucrative and would improve even more when Becky learned more about the accounts and finance rules in Siskovia. She would be able to work on all the businesses of Madam Popescu that were solely run in her own country, something she had told me was her aim.
Becky was working in the casino from just after lunchtime and staying there until the evening, so she suggested I arrived for the grand reunion around nine. As spring was just starting, I had more work to do around the apartment gardens which was always something that relaxed me, so that was how I spent most of my day, that and chatting with a very talkative guest staying at the property.
Late afternoon, I made myself a quick meal and was in the shower by seven feeling more and more nervous. I kept telling myself to relax as I had nothing to fear from the meeting; I had served my time, excessive though it was, and I was merely meeting the woman who was my wife's work colleague. If only it was as simple as that; I couldn't get it out of my head that she was my jailer who had sought to punish me severely while at her prison. She was the woman who had looked at my nakedness while chained to the floor of her office and had me fastened down to a bench, also naked, while she beat me mercilessly with a cane. She was more than just my wife's work colleague; she was the woman who had ripped every shred of self respect from me during my time in Casavana. She had even talked me into exposing my innermost thoughts of my time spent there through writing my story for her. She was a woman to be feared. But I also had a perverse excitement at the prospect of seeing her again.
I entered the casino just before nine as if I was a normal punter. The first thing I noticed was the sign, up in flashing lights, inviting anyone wishing to expose themselves to the almost risk free promotion offered by the casino owner. Seeing that sign did stir up some unpleasant memories, but I had no inclination to take on the challenge again. I made my way across to the office and noticed the blinds were drawn. Having no intention of knocking on the door, I went into the bar, ordered myself a nice cold beer and sent Becky a text letting her know I was there.
Rather than replying, Becky came out to find me sitting on a stool with my back to the bar holding the drink in my hand. She looked stunning dressed in a short, tight dress, something that was noticed by many eyes that fixed on her and then followed her as she approached. It always gave me such a kick when that happened, like now, especially when she reached me and kissed me on the lips.
"May I join you?" she asked, sitting on the stool beside me. Her formal request was in keeping with her smart, sophisticated look, but spoken in a light-hearted way.
"Can I get you something?"
"G and T for me, Sophie," she said directly to the busty girl behind the bar as if I'd just vanished.
"Who's the lucky guy?" Sophie asked, confirming I had suddenly become invisible.
"My husband, David."
I smiled and nodded my head.
"You are a lucky guy," the barmaid said, as she set about preparing Becky's drink.
"It looks like the big boss lady has turned up," I said to Becky, looking at the promotion sign.
"She has, and she's looking forward to seeing you again."
"Why? She treated me like she hated my guts in her prison and wanted to make my life a living hell."
The look on my face that accompanied my outburst must have exposed all of my confused feelings about the meeting as Becky chuckled. "You really are nervous about seeing her again, aren't you?"
"No, of course not," I lied.
"You are," she said poking me playfully in the ribs. "She's not going to drag a whipping bench into the middle of the gaming floor and order you to strip naked for a public caning."
"More's the pity," I said, attempting humour, which never succeeded when I was nervous.
"Ooh, many a true word spoken in jest," she said, leaning right into me. "That would bring the crowds in."
"Definitely jest, not truth," I insisted.
The gin and tonic was placed on the bar and I handed a ten pound note across to Sophie. "On the house," she said, taking the note from my hand. "But I'll take the tip." She winked at me.
"Come on," said Becky, getting off the stool and picking up her drink. "Let's go and face your fears and meet ... the big boss lady. The sooner you get this over with the better; I can feel the tension oozing from you.
"Is it that obvious?"
"Yes, it is."
She kissed my lips again, inciting more lustful glances from some people around the bar. It was another lift to my ego, something I needed to give me the strength to approach the office of my most recent tormentor. Becky gave the door a couple of light taps with her knuckles before confidently pushing it open and stepping inside. Three people were already in there: one of the burly doormen, one of the lovely croupiers and the woman herself, Tashrina Popescu. They looked at the pair of us as we entered, but mostly it was me, the newcomer, that drew their attention.
"Mr Emerson," said Madam Popescu, pleasantly, "how lovely to see you again, please come in."
Her pleasant greeting took me completely by surprise; it was more like being welcomed by an old friend who I'd not seen for a while. I even felt a moment of confusion as I looked at the tall, elegant woman, wondering if I'd imagined my time in Casavana held under her cruel control. Had she really seen me naked, chained to the floor of her office? Did she really cane me in front of a large group of women? Did she really try to avoid saving me from an extra two and a half years in her prison when Elena appealed for an increase in my sentence?
"Madam Popescu," I said, less pleasantly, although I was pleased she didn't get too familiar by using my first name or asking me to call her Tashrina.
Although she had the merest of smiles on her face, she held on to that cool, aloofness that set her above those around her. She was dressed in a tight fitting, sleeveless maroon dress. Her black hair, as always, silkily smooth, a neatly cut fringe with straight back and sides barely reaching her shoulders. Two perfectly aligned maroon streaks ran down the left side of her hair, it was as though the dye had been administered to each individual hair to ensure accuracy.
