Forty Four Hours
Twilight engulfed Continental Flight 1837 as it descended into mountain daylight
time. As other passengers dozed or continued reading, the woman seated in 19F
flicked on the overhead reading light and pulled the folded letter once more
from the side pocket of her carryon bag. The tiny overhead bulb illuminated the
features of her face and hands. Long slender fingers quivered slightly as they
slowly unfolded the paper. Her liquid blue eyes focused on the words printed
off her computer the previous evening. Her mind began once again to process the
words, stopping and rereading each sentence.
My dearest
What a pleasant thought that you've decided to come to me this weekend. What
you seek is here and all can be consummated in the 40 plus hours we will have
together. I want to remind you of a few things, things that can add
immeasurably to your weekend if you put your mind in the proper perspective.
First, I again want to remind you that I am married, and, while I plan to be
with you most of those precious hours, there will undoubtedly be times I will
not be by your side. Those times are unavoidable and will be kept to a minimum.
Secondly, while I'm not with you, I've arranged certain activities that will
occupy your time. Some of those you will endure alone, some may be times where
selected and trusted friends will be visiting you to assure a complete
experience for both you and I, as well as themselves.
We've discussed via email and phone your need for dominance and humiliation.
Yet I assure you, Kara, that until you've actually experienced what is in store
for you, you have an incomplete mental framework of what that will involve. By
the time you crawl back on that plane, you'll have an unquestionable and clearer
picture of the submissive experience, and perhaps yourself.
Again, upon arrival, take the shuttle to the Marriott. My friend, Lori, is the
manager there and she will have certain facets of the weekend and instructions
explicitly prepared.
I understand the tension and overwhelming apprehension you must feel. It will
pass. Do not disappoint me and I assure you, I will not disappoint you. The
weekend will be worth your time and servitude. I'll see you at midnight.
Mistress Sophia
Kara folded the letter and returned it to the side pocket of her bag. She
settled back in her seat and folded her arms across her breasts and let out a
long thin sigh to control the nervousness that flowed through her body and
closed her eyes once again.
Mentally she rummaged through the events that led to this weekend journey. She
had been with her domme', Maya, twice since the initial claiming. On the second
of these, Maya had been displeased at her willingness to accept the role as a
complete submissive. Perhaps it was the closeness of the friendship each of
them had with Debra; perhaps the attitude that she wasn't completely open to
things Maya orchestrated; or perhaps she was still attempting to top from the
bottom. Over four weeks ago, when she had arrived at Maya's home, Maya had
refused to subjugate her and instead told her that she needed further training.
She strongly urged Kara to contact a domme' in Denver. That contact quickly led
to the demand that Kara rid herself of familiar surroundings and travel to the
Mile High City for a weekend to spend an appropriate amount of time with
Mistress Sophia. Should she pass an attitude adjustment and fully acknowledge
her position, her status as pet to Maya would be restored, but only if Sophia
was satisfied with her demeanor and performance.
Arrangements were hastily concluded and dates were bantered about and finally a
suitable weekend was agreed upon. For Kara, it was a weekend when hubby had
scheduled an out of town baseball trip to Detroit, thus providing her an excuse
to visit "an old friend from her days with a former employer." She booked
reservations and left, the ruse hidden from her spouse.
Now the tires of the aircraft thudded against the concrete and the contact again
with mother earth jolted her back to reality. The low whine of the engines
died and the front door opened sending 89 people scrambling to the aisle and
pulling traveling possessions from under seats and overhead bins. She avoided
eye contact, shouldered her carryon bag and slowly walked out of the plane.
At the lower level she found the shuttle bus to the Marriott and slumped into
the seat, her heart beginning a familiar pounding and her eyes nervously darting
down to her body. Waves of conflicting emotions rolled through her and the ride
to the hotel was all too brief. She glanced again at her watch and noted the
time ... 8:35 p.m. There were 44 hours ahead of her until her flight left
Sunday afternoon.
Trying to ignore the pounding inside her body she walked toward the hotel
reception desk and timidly asked the desk clerk if there was a "Lori" present.
He nodded politely and disappeared into the back room. Kara stepped back and
glanced over her shoulder at the lobby door ... still time to flee.
"I'm Lori. May I assist you?" The voice jerked Kara out of her thoughts and
she turned and stood mute momentarily. The voice belonged to a woman with hair
the color of straw, about 5' 2", a body slightly heavy for her frame, piercing
gray eyes but a warm, cherubic smile that seemed pleasant.
Slowly she forced the words from her lips, trying not to show the anguish within
here soul. "I'm ... Kara ... uhh ... I was told to ask for you? Sophia
...told me to ask for you." As she spoke she continued to size up the woman
whom she took to be around 30. Somehow this was not was she was expecting and
the mental picture of Lori she had previously formed quickly left her mind.
As she tried to discern what Lori knew, if she was domme' or sub, Lori spoke.
"Yes, of course, Kara ... Welcome. Follow me into the lounge, we'll talk
there."
Kara followed her hostess through the elegant marble-tiled lobby and into the
dimness of the lounge. Lori motioned to a corner table and Kara sat with her
back to the other occupants of the bar, not wanting to glance at anyone for any
reason. A dark haired Hispanic waitress approached and smiled warmly at Lori,
then look straight at her with a slight smirk. She asked for drink orders.
Kara was about to order a Manhattan when Lori spoke, "coffee for both of us,
Angelique." Kara saw the barmaid cast a glance at her and turn away. For a
moment her eyes followed the slimness of Angelique's legs and feet.
After brief chitchat about the flight, Lori leaned over the table and expounded
directly at Kara. "I've reserved a room on the top floor, a junior suite. All
you need is there, munchies, drinks, wine ... and of course, a few things Sophia
required."
The little drums in Kara's body pounded louder as if they would break through
the skin. She knows ... dear god. She knows ... ran through her brain. The
tension found its' way through her body and awakened her senses and her full
bladder. "I'd like to be excused ... the ladies room..." she stammered.
"No. Sit right there for a few more moments. There will be time for relieving
yourself soon.'' The cherubic face retorted. "We need to cover a few salient
points, first."
Leaning farther across the table and over her coffee cup, Lori continued, "When
you leave the bar, you are to go straight to your room. You are to place all
your clothing, including what you have on now, the black party dress you were
instructed to bring, even your purse ... all in the closet. There's a metal
locking bar we've installed with a padlock. Everything ... all your clothing in
the closet except for the pair of black thigh highs and heels. Place the bar
across the closet door and lock the padlock. Are you understanding this?"
Kara only nodded.
"Sophia has the key. Then place all the personal items, toys you were to bring,
on the bureau across from the bed. Shower. Reapply your entire make up and
then, and only then, you are to pee. Now listen ... you are to stopper the tub
and pee in the tub. Don't dare think about doing otherwise, or the weekend is
over."
Kara nodded weakly and felt the crimson blush spread over her cheeks and down
her neck. She ran her right hand across her face as if to remove the telltale
signs of nervousness. Dear god, she knows all...me ... in front of a stranger
..."
Lori began again, "put on the thigh highs and the black heels. Then, there are
three pieces of masking tape stuck to the carpet. Find them. Your nose goes on
the small one and your hands alongside your face, your knees are to be placed
squarely over the other two squares of tape. You'll see them. You are to
remain like that until Sophia arrives. If you want something to eat or drink,
and I might mention now that Mistress wants you to enjoy the wine, do it before
you take your position on the tape. Understand?"
Again Kara nodded her acquiescence of the instructions.
Sliding the room key card across the table Lori concluded, "I believe it's time
for you to go. Be in place on the tape no later than 10:00 p.m. Oh, and one
more thing ... you are not to speak until you are addressed. If someone enters
the room, you are not to remove your face from the tape, not to look around ...
understand? Once you are in position, consider yourself a statue, frozen. Now
go..."
Kara rose and without looking back followed the signs to the elevator. The
pressure in her balder quickened her pace and she entered the shaft and inserted
the keycard for the top floor. She exited the elevator and found the signs
pointed to room 801. She paused outside the door and then with a quick motion,
slid the card through the slot and entered her prison.
She hurried quickly through the predetermined routine, sighing as she snapped
the padlock in place, locking her clothing within the small closet. Thoughts
rushed through her mind ... what if Sophia doesn't come ... I'm naked, trapped
... a strange city ... alone. Naked ... dear god ... what if Lori's not here
...if something goes wrong ...
She dismissed the fears and placed the personal items on the bureau. She rushed
to the shower and cleansed the residue of the trip from her body and hair. As
she toweled off, she glanced in the mirror and observed her nakedness, her
shaven sex, her toned thighs, small breasts and slim ankles and long feet.
Finally after her hair was restyled and makeup applied, she stoppered the tub
and squatted and relieved herself in the white tub. The first streams
splattered and then the lower area of the tub was slowly covered. She was
amazed at how it looked, all yellowish and slightly odorous filing the lower
reaches of the tub.
Stepping from the tub, she sat on the edge of the bed and ran the hose up each
leg to the upper parts of her thighs and slipped on the heels. Satisfied, she
looked at the clock by the bedside. 9:30, 30 minutes to consume something to
satisfy her hunger and thirst and the nervousness. After consuming two glasses
of wine and nibbling at two of the small sandwich halves and a piece of fruit,
she rose and explored to find the tape squares. She breathed a sigh of relief
at her discovery and then quickly realized the position it would leave her in.
Her face would be away from the door, her knees up under her tummy with her slit
pointed directly at the entry door of the room. She sighed heavily and looking
once at the clock on the bedside table, realized that 10:00 was rapidly
approaching. She sank to her knees, placing them over the two larger spots of
tape and placed her nose on the smaller square and her hands against her face.
Please... Mistress ... please ... come quickly
Time passed. She almost dozed off only to be startled by the sound of the door
opening. She quickened her breathing as footsteps clicked across the marble
foyer of the suite. The footsteps paused momentarily. Her body trembled ...
how much time had passed, was it Midnight? The footsteps resumed and a light
in the ceiling flicked on illuminating her kneeling body. Somehow she had
missed the light in the ceiling above her. The footsteps entered the bathroom,
clicked across the floor and she heard the tub being drained. The footsteps
resumed and came closer and paused. A navy blue open toed sling encasing a small
feminine foot was pressed between her face and the carpet. "Lick ..." the voice
said. Kara quivered. A willing tongue complied as one foot and then the other
was placed under her lips. Kara dragged her tongue over the leather, the open
toes and the graceful arch of the foot. As quickly as it had appeared in her
view, the foot disappeared and the footsteps receded. The sound of the door
opening and shutting left her trembling. Silence returned and she heard her
heart pounding rapidly. Dear god ... who ... Lori? Someone else, Sophia? Who
...?
She remained statue-like on the floor. Her pounding ebbed and slowly subsided,
she felt the familiar secretions matting around her labial lips and she wanted
desperately to wipe them away. Had the unseen footsteps noticed? Her mind
raced. Someone ...they... are checking on me... to see if I obeyed...who ... and
had they actually left or had they paused in the foyer and now were watching
her? She dared not raise her head from the tape and turn to see.
Mentally, she thought one more of her situation and the rapidly building
awareness of what was happening. Her mind carefully weighted the choices.
Staying as she was positioned, she knew intense humiliation undoubtedly waited.
Should she choose to get up and try to leave, she also faced deeply humiliating
circumstances. Fleeing the room passed through her mind. After all, she was
unfettered and had the power to leave, albeit with no clothing, perhaps with a
simple bed sheet wrapped around her body, but flee to where, and to whom? She
knew no one here who would shelter her. If she stayed, certainly the
depravation would intensify. At the age of 41, could she actually endure
physically what her mind fantasized?
In essence, she concluded, she had little choice. Humiliation by fleeing
unclothed to nowhere, or humiliation by remaining and becoming subjected to the
whims of others.
She heard the door open! Her heart beat rapidly once again. Footsteps, heavier
than the ones she previously heard crossed the foyer and the door shut. This
time she felt her body resonate with vibrations of footsteps approaching her.
She quivered and tensed. The footsteps stopped, and then resumed walking to her
right side. She heard wine being poured into a glass and the bottle set down on
the bureau. The footsteps resumed and walked to the chair and she heard the
chair being drug toward her kneeling form, then the sound of the cushion giving
way to a body settling into the softness. She shifted her hips. Silence again
permeated the large room. Countless time passed as the unseen form sipped the
wine.
Then the footsteps resumed and walked in the direction of the bureau, then again
behind her. She perked her ears and tried to envision what was happening. The
sound of a rubber glove snapping across a wrist was distinguished from the other
soft sounds and then a finger pressed against her anus. Cool moisture covered
her anus and a rubber-encased finger pushed against the coolness and into her
rectum. She cringed and emitted a soft moan. The finger plunged deeper. Kara
gasped louder!
The sharp slap of a paddle rocked against her left ass cheek. " You were told
to remain silent, kunt! I expect silence!" The finger probed deeper and hooked
upward into her canal. She bit her lower lip in protestation. The finger
continued exploring her and then slowly withdrew.
Steps again plodded around her left and the unmistakable image of the toe of a
woman's black pump was pressed under her face. "You may use your hands and
remove my heels, kunt!" The voice was firm and pitched on low octaves. She
extended her hands and removed both of the black pumps. "Lick". Kara extended
her tongue and began running it over the nylon-encased toes. Silence again
prevailed and only her licking was discernable. The other foot was pushed under
her face and she let her tongue bathe the softness of that one also. The gloved
hand reached into her hair and suddenly yanked her head backwards and upward.
She stared into the face of a woman, about 40, an angular face with high
cheekbones, framed by blunt cut black hair. Penetrating eyes drilled down at
her and the face, immaculately made up, drew closer to her face. "Need I tell
you, Kunt, I'm Mistress Sophia? Hands behind you head, fingers interlaced,
elbows out to your side. Then you may speak!"
Kara trembled and the grip of the gloved hand raised her face even higher. "I'm
... Kara, Ma'am..." She could think of no other words and her body quivered as
she replied.
She positioned her hands behind her head, raised her face and caught the full
presence of Mistress Sophia. She was tall, very tall, immaculately attired in a
short black skirt and matching jacket that hung open around her shoulders.
Under the jacket she wore a red silk blouse and her jewelry and make up left no
doubt of her aristocratic femininity. But it was her face that Kara could not
take her eyes from. It was framed by jet-black hair, short and tastefully
styled and feathered. Kara looked into the deep brown eyes ... those, eyes,
dark, showing no nonsense and no mercy.
The slaps to her face terminated her gaze. Again the hand struck her across the
cheeks until her face glowed. "You are not to refer to yourself in any way
except as 'kunt' " she spoke. "Now let me hear you say it again. Greet me
properly!"
"I'm ... kunt, Ma'am," she stammered."
Mistress slipped her jacket off and laid it across the bed and the scooped neck
top and spaghetti strapped blouse displaying her firm upper body. Kara noticed
immediately her toned, muscular upper body, the shoulders, arms and upper back
seemingly carved by a sculptor. She turned and sat again in the chair. "You
know why you're here, don't you? Tell me. I want to hear it all."
"Yes Ma'am." Kara began to recite her brief acquaintance with Maya, not daring
to leave out any detail. As she spoke she began to feel more humbled and her
body quivered.
"The success of the weekend is in your hands, kunt. You'll see that as it
progresses I've left nothing to chance. You'll do what pleases me."
A light knock at the door and the sound of the keycard and the door opening once
again diverted Kara's attention. Though now on her knees and her upper body
erect, her back was still to the door but she dared not turn to see who entered.
The soft click of heels strode across the foyer and into the room. Sophia's
face smiled and she leaned forward as the cherubic face of Lori bend down to
kiss the crimson lips.
"And how is the little tart, Ma'am? I had Angelique, the cocktail waitress,
check on her earlier this evening. She found her to be rather, well, shall I
say, compliant?" Kara quivered, realizing the depth of the humility she had
earlier displayed, literally licking a servers foot. After a warm embrace,
Sophia nodded to Kara's kneeling form, her hands placed behind her head, legs
spread showing her arousal. "Darling, I think the kunt will be fine; I'm about
to start in on her. You're just in time. Off duty now, Love?"
Lori nodded and shuffled over to the counter and raised the bottle of wine.
Empty, she mused, "I'll order another one to be brought up." She dialed the
lounge and made her request and then turned and faced the kneeling kuntgirl.
"So, Ma'am, have you begun testing her endurance?"
"Actually, no. I was just about to begin. Why don't you wrap our little
present in something appropriate?"
Lori emitted a light laugh and wrapped a leather cuff on Kara's left wrist and
pulled it behind her back. She took the right wrist, wrapped it tightly, and
pulled it to join the left one in the small of Kara's bare back. She snapped
the small padlock through both of the d-rings locking the slim wrists behind
her. Kara grimaced at the bondage and tested her wrists. Sudden fear swept
through her mind and her look of total helplessness caused both her captors to
snicker. "I see you've worked her face well, Ma'am," noticing the still red
marks from the slapping to both her facial cheeks.
"Perhaps her breasts need some of the same. Do the honors, won't you? I'd like
to sit back and watch, I need to see what she's made of."
Lori took both of the hardened nipples and pulled them out and rolled the buds
until Kara's face grimaced and an anguished look covered her face. Lori's
release of the nipples was followed by a slap to the right breast and she
alternated her slaps from the right one to the left. Kara emitted a loud groan
as the severity continued, building and covering the soft undersides of the now
reddening mounds. Tears formed in Kara's eyes and she begged silently until she
could tolerate no more. She opened her mouth and screamed, "Mercy!! Mercy,
Miss Lori!"
Sophia spoke quickly, "Mercy? Is that your safe word? None are permitted here,
slut!" 'Mercy' is that I don't allow Lori to slap you harder! I harbor dark
desires, kunt! And you are to remain silent! Continue, Lori!"
------------
Maya tossed the novel onto the coffee table and shifted restlessly on the small
sofa of her home. Each time she drifted and closed her eyes her mind wandered
to Kara and what she might be enduring in her first few hours with Sophia. Her
thoughts recalled the first meeting with Sophia in September at the Folsom
Street Fair in San Francisco. She'd met her at one of the exhibits where a new
slave was privately being degraded. She'd marveled at Sophia's expertise with
the flogger as she covered the girl, barely 20, with soft blows of the flogger
until her skin was reddened from her lower thighs to her breasts, front and
back. Conversation led to the two of them canvassing the fair together and
discovering their dominate desires. She recalled her piercing eyes and short
black hair and exquisite figure with large breasts amply displayed by the
leather top she was wearing. Throughout the day they became intimate, closely
bonded by their similarities.
Sophia was tall, 44 and married to an older, distinguished man, a rancher who
owned a large ranch and considerable land-holdings north of Denver. She spent
little time with Calvin at the ranch, preferring to remain in the historic
district of the city in her restored townhouse. At their marriage he had
presented her with the title to a small farm of 200 acres nestled against the
foothills of the Rockies. The farm, while dilapidated, was slowly restored and
provided a source of amusement and refreshing moments for the tall, articulate
woman. By profession she was the assistant director of an art museum in the
city. While the job rarely demanded her full attention, it provided her with
fulfillment and a host of interesting people from which she drew inner
satisfaction. Calvin definitely found Sophia to be a trophy wife; yet sexually
he did little to satisfy her cravings. Those she found in her continued desires
of domination. Several women and an occasional male had found themselves as
guests, willing or unwilling, at her farm for days on end.
During Maya's visit to the farm, she witnessed one such hapless young woman
being broken as if she was one of the animals ... pigs, cattle, horses ... that
roamed the fences and fields of the farm. Sophia's hobby was training horses
and her dominant attitude served her well in dealing with the
sometimes-recalcitrant beasts.
Now Maya imagined where her distant slave might be ... in the hotel? Or perhaps
sequestered at the farm? Or was she imprisoned in the tastefully decorated
townhouse in the city with the no-nonsense dungeon tucked away on the upper
floor. She knew Sophia had a reception at the museum that evening and would
arrive late to meet Kara. She wondered if she had been too demanding of Kara,
to send her to certain degradation at Sophia's skillful hands. She knew Sophia
to be one who took what was before her, to toy with the object and use her as
she saw fit, ignoring the pleadings of the slave.
As she pondered, her fingers skillfully found her erogenous zones and her hands
found the wetness between her own legs and worked her clitoris to orgasm,
imagining the torment Kara might be enduring.
(End of part 1)
