The Leather Mask

Chapter Three-1

Chapter Three

Unconditional

Mrs. Smith

Word reached me in the Tombs that we had yet another applicant. My personal bluetooth beeped.

“I think we’ve got a live one,” came Henry’s voice. “Switch your monitor to the outside feed.”

I hit a button in the observation booth and the suspended, blindfolded woman disappeared, replaced by a bird’s eye view of the sidewalk and our front steps.

She had come back.

I think I gasped, or made some kind of noise because Lawrence beside me perked up. “Ma’am, do you know her?”

Neither Lawrence nor Henry had been around when I had blown it with Dawn Flynn. The only person who did know was Emma, and she was now gone, packed up and crated off to Mr. Reynolds. Henry was security and usually worked from just before through just after the weekends when business was brisk. And Lawrence spent most of his time in the lab, creating new training devices.

Dawn shifted from one foot to the other, then mounted the front steps.

“Ma’am? What should I do?” Henry asked.

“Let her in! I mean, let her in,” I said, fighting to remain calm. “Tell Chelsea to take her to my office.”

Henry cut the connection, which left me with a grinning Lawrence.

“So, the Iron Lady has an Achilles’ heel,” he said. “I didn’t know you were into strays.”

“Not really,” I said, trying to sound casual. “She’s just some waif that followed me home one day.”

“Uh, huh,” Lawrence replied. “I believe you.”

“You just keep your eye on Serafina,” I said and switched the monitor back to the current project.

Lawrence got back to business. “I think she’s ready.”

“Not yet,” I said. “Give it a few more minutes.”

We stared at the monitor, one of several that showed the occupants and activities in every training room and cell throughout the facility. Serafina (dark-eyed, olive-skinned, exotic Serafina) didn’t quite know what to make of the room we dragged her to three hours ago. We started early in the morning when she was most disoriented and pliable and now, after an extended time in darkness, Serafina was ready for the next phase.

“Very well, Lawrence,” I said. “Teach her well.”

Lawrence winked at me, grabbed a large towel from just inside the door and soon was in the room, ducking around the taut guy wires, then standing between the trainee’s spread legs. At the sound of his booted footsteps Serafina’s head turned this way and that. We had taken away her sight, but not her hearing or any other senses. No, that was for another time, if necessary. Lawrence unzipped his pants and his wonderful c**k sprang out, pointed right at the p***y, that open, sensitive piece of flesh. Serafina tried to move her arms, her legs, but the guy wires attached to the various leather cuffs gave just the tiniest amount. Her head attempted to rise, but the wires attached the rings in the headharness also kept that still.

I spoke to Lawrence on his small earpiece. “Start with the hand. Go slow.”

Lawrence’s c**k halted less than an inch away from the wet p***y. He scowled up at the hidden room cam and folded his arms.

“You heard me,” I said. “Give her a ten minute prep, then a slow, casual spear for another five. After that she’s all yours.”

Lawrence took a deep breath. He wasn’t happy, that was clear, but I had my reasons. He glared at the cam for a little bit longer, then his hand dipped between the spread legs. Serafina lurched at the touch and her gagged cries came through clear on the booth’s speakers but Lawrence followed orders, good soldier that he was, even if he didn’t like them.

I watched him stroke the p***y, noticed just how much more stiff the trainee’s body became, and Lawrence’s c**k as well. As Serafina’s cries climbed in volume warmth also grew between my legs, but I ignored it, or at least, tried to. Already my n*****s had awakened, pushed out against my restrictive bra and dress. I ran a hand over them, felt their hardened points. I gave each one a quick squeeze and my eyes closed while I gasped. Oh, I so wanted a c**k, any c**k, inside me! But I couldn’t. I had to put all that aside, as I had had to so many times since I became headmistress at the Velvet Glove. How many times had I watched while some young, randy thing screamed in pain and pleasure while I gauged her reactions, then went over her file and all the gentlemen callers to find her best match? And I often did; out of the twenty-three matches since we had opened, there hadn’t been one failure. I was very good at my profession, but was I any nearer my own goal? No. But this new girl, this Dawn Flynn...

I hiked up my dress and, through all the folds, my hands found their way to my hot p***y. Oh, yes, so slick. Yum. A gentle touch, a delicate swirl and I leaned back in my chair, eyes half open to watch the monitor. Lawrence lubricated his shaft in Serafina’s own juices and it shone in the muted light. His hand caressed the helmet’s tip, then his hips thrust forward.

The trainee moaned. My fingers found their way inside my p***y and I did too. Slow and gentle, Lawrence pushed forward, then pulled back and my fingers matched his action. In, out. Forward, back. Yes, that was it. Nice and slow. Just take it easy...

Before I knew it, my body shook, burst after burst of tiny explosions that didn’t leave me fully satisfied, but at least took off the pressure. I gasped a few times, and then pounded a glistening fist down on the monitor panel. This wasn’t good enough! I needed c**k. c**k!

“Goddammit!” I yelled.

“Ma’am? Ma’am, is something wrong?” came Lawrence’s voice over the com.

“What?” Oh, no! I had left the link open! Lawrence had heard my curses, perhaps even my own sighs as I pleasured myself. Crap.

“Ma’am,” he whispered into his mic. “Are you okay?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m fine. Uh, that’s good work you’re doing, Lawrence. Continue.”

Lawrence nodded and returned to the trainee’s rape. His hands gripped her hips, swinging her ever so gently on the guy wires, in time with his own thrusts. Serafina went stiff as a board, then shook uncontrollably as the initial orgasm hit. If it weren’t for her strict restraints she would have probably torn Lawrence apart. As it was her deep, gagged screams served as her only outward release. Then, suddenly, her hands went limp, fingers pointed at the floor. The only part of her that now moved was her stomach, and in shallow, quick breaths. Lawrence fondled Serafina’s generous mounds of breasts and turned them shiny in her own juices, but his hips kept thrusting away. The reason I had hired him in the first place. He had incredible staying power, that boy. He looked like what someone would call a computer geek, but instead of cyber and silicon chips, his genius was turned toward s*x. SM s*x, and creating all the devilishly remarkable wood and metal devices that went with it. He loved making new things and testing them out on the trainees.

“Ma’am, that visitor is still waiting.” Now it was Henry’s turn to bother me.

Let her wait! I wanted to shout. My hands formed into fists, but I didn’t punch anything. Control, control, I urged myself. A few deep breaths and I gently hit the com switch for Henry’s office.

“Yes, I’m going. And Henry, send the feed from here to my office laptop.”

***

Things were quiet in the main house. They usually were on Monday, after the weekend guests had departed, which many did early that morning. I had to check the reports, view the discs and determine if there were any potential matches. But that would all have to wait. She had come back, and this time I wasn’t going to let her run out.

I didn’t run to my office. I couldn’t, my restrictive dress ensured that, but I didn’t loiter either. Still, when I got to within a few strides of my office I deliberately slowed down, stopped, and in the large, hallway mirror just to the side of the office doors, made sure my swept up hair wasn’t mussed, my dress presentable.

She twisted around when I entered. Her legs were crossed and pushed way back under the chair, a good omen. But she also picked at her nails, something that would need correction. And she stood to greet me, another plus. Two out of three wasn’t bad.

“Miss Flynn,” I said. “I am so glad you decided to come back.” She didn’t offer either hand, but I reached forth and squeezed them both. They trembled like a pair of delicate bird’s wings. Oh, subtle bewitchment! “I’m afraid that yesterday you didn’t catch us under the best of circumstances.”

“Actually, that was what brought me back,” she said.

“Oh? Well, the way you...reacted...said that we’d never see you again.”

“Sometimes it takes something like that to...” She hesitated, eyes downcast, then nervously laughed and shook her head, as if in disbelief. “I...just quit my job, so I guess there’s no going back, is there?”

Reassure her. Don’t blow it this time! “Of course there is,” I said. “That’s part of what we’re all about here.”

I indicated for her to sit back down and I took my place behind the desk, asked for her indulgence, and lifted the laptop cover. A few clicks with the mouse and there was Lawrence, still doing his thing with Serafina. “One of our newer trainee’s is at a critical stage of her development and I have to keep at least an eye on what is happening.” For just a moment, Serafina’s gagged strains came through on the computer speaker, but I quickly muted it.

Dawn raised her head at the sound, her eyes didn’t so much come alive as turned inquisitive. “May I see?”

“I...Well, at least for right now, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Really?” She smiled and shrugged. “I mean, what could be worse than what I saw last week?”

What indeed? I could think of a few things, my little, frightened bird, and perhaps you’ll find out, in due time. But as for what was going on right now...

I angled the laptop around for Dawn to see.

Lawrence had adjusted the guy wires so now Serafina’s legs pointed at the ceiling and allowed access to her ass. I didn’t mention this to Dawn but, if she had any experience at all, she could tell. I also brought back the sound and Serafina’s gagged whimpers filled the office.

Dawn leaned forward, her gaze intense. When Serafina came again, much more forcefully than before, Dawn swallowed a couple of times, but didn’t tear her eyes away. Not even when Lawrence slapped Serafina’s t**s, then traded out her ass for her p***y again. His thrusts were more powerful now and Serafina struggled in her bonds, but the wires still held her tight, suspended in a limbo of bondage and s*x. She came again and Lawrence waited, then pounded away at her still some more, but now quick and furious. This time was for him.

I turned the laptop away, muted the speaker again.

Dawn returned to her chair and stared out the window at my little garden. I watched her, but also glanced at the monitor. Lawrence’s twisted face indicated he was cumming now and would soon return to the monitor booth. He would watch over her while also doodling up a new device as Serafina hung in post orgasmic afterglow. Things were fine and I now could afford to focus entirely on Dawn.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” I asked.

That brought her back. “Huh? Ah, no. Not right now.”

“But you have.”

“Yes...”

“And they all ended in ruin.”

Dawn sat up a little. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Really? So that’s why you’re here. Because your previous relationships all worked out so well.” Dawn pressed her lips together and I hurried on. “I’m sorry, Miss Flynn, but I needed to ask. We’re not here to provide a weekend frolic or even an extended fling. We accept only suitable applicants to train, those that meet our standards, for a potential match.”

“A match? Like a dating service? But I thought this was—”

“We are both. And I wouldn’t use the term ‘dating service’, because once we match a master, or even a mistress, to a slave, it’s permanent.” I smiled and shrugged. “We try to live up to our company name and motto, ‘Joined At The Whip’.”

Dawn smiled, the first time she had done so since she arrived and it transformed her. The facial tension eased, and she more resembled the bright thing that I had spied at the sandwich bar all those weeks ago. But it didn’t last. Her eyes flicked back out to the garden, as if she wrestled with some personal demon. I let her and leaned back in my tall, padded chair, studied her over my clenched, entwined fingers. It could go either way now, and I couldn’t let any anxiousness show.

“What do you look for in your applicants?” she suddenly said.

“A burning interest in SM. And unconditional commitment. The rest will naturally flow.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“You can leave at any time. But if you possess dedication, are truly committed, it won’t even enter your mind.”

Silence again.

“Fine,” she said, and gave a small sigh. “Do you need me to sign anything?”

“We go on a person’s word here. But if it’ll make you feel better, you can sign a contract later. Now take off your clothes.”

“What? Now?”

I grabbed my whip, stood up and shook it out. “Commitment, slave. It’s total and it starts NOW!”

I swung the whip overhead and cracked it on the desk. Dawn jumped out of the chair. I came around the desk and shook it at her. “Don’t test me, slave. Remove those clothes or I’ll have them ripped off!”

Dawn backed away a little, but her shaky hands reached up and took off her blazer, then undid her shirt buttons. Down to her bra and panties she hesitated. I backhanded the whip across the front of her thighs.

“ALL of your clothes! Hurry up! You’ve already earned your first punishment.”

The panties came down fast, but Dawn fumbled at the back of her bra. While she groped I rang a tiny bell.

“Ma’am?” Chelsea said on entering.

“We have a new applicant. Collect her things and issue standard equipment.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Chelsea knelt and bundled up the clothes. She was gone in a flash and quickly returned with a matching leather collar and four cuffs. She gracefully set them on the desk and disappeared.

Dawn was beautiful. Perhaps a little on the skinny side, but that wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed. Her hips were slim, the waist thin, but those breasts were round and tender. Already her n*****s reacted, either to the sudden chill of air on her bare skin or the excitement of disrobing. She blushed at my frank appraisal, brought her arms up a little, as if to cover them. I gave her a little “Tsk, tsk” and they dropped, not entirely to her sides, but in front of her flat stomach, one demurely folded over the other.

“Kneel,” I said. Dawn’s blush deepened, but she complied. “First thing is the collar.” It snugly encircled Dawn’s neck and I locked it in place. “Next are the wrist cuffs. Extend your arms. Good. Now, turn around, hands on the floor and extend your right leg. Excellent. Now the other.” I slapped on the ankle cuffs. “When a trainer comes for you in your cell, this is the first thing you do, go through this series of positions to accept your training equipment. Got that?”

Dawn’s head hung down. Her golden blonde hair covered her face. Her voice was quiet. “Yes.”

I brought the whip across her ass. Dawn cried out, jumped and rubbed her sore flesh.

“That’s ‘Yes, mistress’ or ‘Yes, ma’am’,” I said.

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Good. Now since you’ve already earned your first punishment, there’s no time like the present. Hmmm. You seem taken with my garden. We’ll do it there.”

“What? Outside!?” she exclaimed.

I hooked my fingers around the large ring in front of her collar. “I mean, especially outside.”

***

Dawn was like a scared deer in the headlights. The morning sun was strong, its warmth probably wonderful on bare skin, but I didn’t feel it, except on my face. On the other hand Dawn was au natural, but whatever freedom she felt at being naked and outside was most likely secondary to her fearful state of mind, probably at someone seeing her like this. I could sense her head swiveling this way and that, afraid that someone might see her from the other buildings on either side or behind the garden. I could have assured her, but she needed to get used to people seeing her like this. We wove our way on thin brick paths and reached the center where stood two stout wooden posts.

I pointed for Dawn to stand between them. I didn’t need to call for Chelsea on the bluetooth because she came running out, equipment in hand. She held my whip and handed over leather thongs one by one as I spread and secured Dawn’s arms and legs. I didn’t fully stretch her out because I wanted to learn how well she danced. With the last knot tied, I took up the whip and cracked it in the air a few times. Dawn reacted as if I had really struck her, straining against the thongs, shoulders tense, looking back over her shoulder at me, full of fear.

“Look away, slave,” I said. “Chelsea, give her the bit.”

Chelsea wedged a rubber bit past Dawn’s teeth and buckled it off. Dawn growled, but Chelsea did her job. She stepped back, but didn’t return to the house.

“That’s all, Chelsea,” I said. Then firmly, “You’re dismissed.”

“Ma’am, can I watch? Oh, please, mistress!”

I admit I am a bit of a soft touch at times, and Chelsea had taken her punishment yesterday so well. “Fine. But do it over there.” I pointed to a sunny corner of the garden. “And keep those hands behind your head. I don’t want them anywhere near your crotch.”

Chelsea scurried off, squatted down with her legs wide apart and her raised arms took on a butterfly shape. Her grin was ear to ear.

Since this was punishment Dawn didn’t deserve a warm up. I know, for a beginner it was a lot to take, but Dawn needed to know the difference between punishment and bliss.

Crack!

“Uhhnn!”

She took that good. For a start.

Swish. Crack!

“Ouuhhrrr!”

Better. Now, let’s really get going.

I lit into her, my arm a furious pinwheel of motion. The whip struck across her back, ass and upper legs and left thin red stripes in its wake. Dawn strained against the bonds, twisted, lunged forward, cried out from behind the bit as her head shook and hair spread wildly about, but not once did she look back at me, not once communicate in any way that she needed me to back off. Such a look would have said “Stop!”, just as much as her saying it, but instead she hung there, and continued to do so when I came around in front.

Now our eyes met. Hers were full of tears, of painful hurt, but she blinked them back. I studied her hard, looking for a sign, anything. It wasn’t there.

I raised the whip.

Behind the gag, Dawn screamed.

I went after her breasts first, a short figure eight motion to ensure maximum strength and precise results. Dawn tried to twist away, but whatever side she favored pulled only one breast back and brought the other out, easier to strike. She attempted to step back, arms and legs stretched out, but the slack thongs allowed only so much movement. I extended the whip and marked her stomach with little scores of welts. Some formed red X’s here and there. She screamed and screamed, then growled and swung herself forward, as if to attack me so I marked up her inner thighs in a quick staccato of leather on flesh. She screamed again, jumped back and once more I casually strode behind her and turned her heart-shaped ass black and blue.

She danced wonderfully! Breasts bouncing, ass shaking. The wooden posts groaned under her gyrations. Her hair, so perfectly groomed for the modern business world, now fell in strings about her face and shoulders, dark with sweat. It took me a moment before I realized that Dawn now rarely stirred as some lash found that untouched piece of skin. She was all danced out.

I broke off. Dawn’s chest rose and fell in heavy pants, counterpoint to...mine? I raised a shaky hand and touched my brow. It was wet too. “Chelsea,” I said. “Fetch some water.”

Chelsea didn’t move. She remained rooted in the now shaded corner of the garden, her mouth open.

“Chelsea!” I yelled.

The slave came to, scurried inside and soon returned carrying a filled, stemmed crystal glass. I didn’t gulp it down, but the glass did empty fast. Chelsea stood by and worked a fan over my flushed skin.

“Ma’am, that was...” Chelsea groped for words. “That was magnificent.”

I smiled a little. “Me...or her?”

“Oh, both.”

I handed the glass back to her. “See that the new trainee gets some water too. But don’t untie her. She stays there the rest of the day.”

Chelsea ran back inside. I strolled to my office and exhaustedly reclined back on a Turkish divan near the glass paned double doors that led out to the garden. Chelsea was indeed right; Dawn was special. She had taken a type of whipping that was never used on beginners, and taken it well. Again, my hands trembled, not in fatigue, but in a suppressed thrill that at last, perhaps I had found her.

Chelsea dashed through with a bucket and ladle. Through the glass I watched as she tenderly removed Dawn’s bit gag, covered in her drool. Strings of saliva dripped from her limp mouth. One hand on her chin, Chelsea tilted Dawn’s head back and raised the filled ladle to slack lips. Dawn’s throat worked while excess water ran down her chin, over her breasts.

Yes. Magnificent.

My own heart still raced as I strode to my desk, picked up the early twentieth century style phone and ordered Henry to connect me with an outside line. It rang once, and when the other phone picked up I didn’t wait for a hello.

“I need you here. Now. I think I found her.”