The Challenge CH06 PT1
By: sfmaster - Published: 10th July, 2017
WARNING! This story is only for adults over the age of 18 and contains
Strong Sexual Content. It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS
only, and the author does not in any way condone similar behavior.
If you are under the age or 18 or reside in a state that prohibits such
behavior, stop reading immediately!!!
“The Challenge” Chapter Six: Triumph and Tragedy
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“The Challenge” by mailto:email@example.com
Chapter 06: Triumph and Tragedy
Part One: Family Obligations
Wednesday night was the slowest day of the week, so that was the day that mother and daughter usually met. Each time, they met at a different diner or restaurant, in a different town or city. Erica had promised Eve that she would always live nearby, and had rented an apartment in Darien near where she worked.
After she had begun to serve Master Daniel, she had given up her apartment in Rye that she had taken as Alana Peters. At least that place had cost less, and had been closer to Greenwich.
Darien lay further up the coast, and they were meeting for Dinner at a restaurant in Stamford, midway between Greenwich and Darien. Erica had returned home, changed, then after fighting traffic arrived at the restaurant just before seven.
Eve’s Mercedes was already in the lot, and Erica knew that her BMW was probably in the garage, unused. Or rather, Alana’s BMW. Erica Riken drove a Chevrolet, and parked it in the first available spot. She rolled up the window, grabbed her purse, and locked the door behind her.
The restaurant was mostly empty, and Erica recognized Eve seated in a booth at the back. She made her way there, and Eve saw her and raised herself out of her seat to kiss Erica.
“Erica, how nice to see you,” greeted Eve.
“Mother,” Erica answered softly.
They both sat in the booth together, facing one another. Eve, who was in her early sixties, looked tired. Erica guessed that there was something wrong.
“Drink?” asked a waitress, who appeared suddenly.
“Any Tap beer will do,” Erica answered.
“One for me also,” added Eve.
The waitress took their orders, then walked away, to return quickly with their drinks. Only after she was gone did they really begin to talk together.
“How are you doing, Erica? Everything all right?”
“Yes, the man I’m serving now is wonderful, not like the first. He cares and understands, and uses me properly.”
“Does he beat you?” asked Eve.
“Not in the usual sense, that you’re thinking about, no. But I get spanked, cropped, and whipped. Does that answer your question?” Erica replied.
“How can you talk about something like that so honestly?” Eve questioned.
“Would you rather I lie? This is what I came looking for when I decided to become Erica.”
“Does he make love to you?”
“No, he’s married, and his wife is his slave also.”
“When a mother talks to her daughter about sex, she expects to hear more normal things. Like who snores, not her daughter being beaten.”
“We’ve been though this before, Mom. I know that it doesn’t make any sense. But it makes me feel good,” stated Erica.
They were interrupted by the waitress bringing their dinners, Eve had ordered a Chef Salad and Erica a cheeseburger and fries. They both started eating before conversation resumed.
“I have changed the will to make Erica Riken the beneficiary of my estate, since Alana Peters was declared dead on the Amazon River,” described Eve.
“Thank you,” said Erica between bites.
“Erica, I just want to say that whatever you do, I still love you.”
“Is this what you really want to be? A slave?”
“Yes. I know that it’s not rational.”
They finished their meal making small talk together, then Eve had to excuse herself to go to the bathroom. Erica kissed her good-bye, and Eve left the restaurant first.
While Eve had gone to the bathroom, Erica had searched her mother’s purse. Inside, she found a bottle of nitroglycerine tablets that had not been there before. Eve did not mention that fact, and Erica’s eyes grew moist from the realization of what this meant.
“Mother,” cried Erica, as she pounded her fists on the steering wheel in the parking lot as she prepared to leave.
Part Two: The Uncertain Slave
Erica pulled her car in Keith’s driveway, happy that the weekend was here. Happy again that she could be a slave to Keith, for she now looked forward to serving her Master.
It had been five months since the party when her former Master Daniel had publicly given her to Keith when she had refused to let herself be sodomized in front of others. Daniel had taken special delight, often with Lauren’s urging, to use her in the one way that she detested.
When Keith had told her that she would be serving a proper Master, she really didn’t have any idea what he had meant. Now she did, and was truly happy as a result.
For the first month, while her injuries from Daniel had healed, Keith had made her write out extensive biographies of herself. She had been examined, and all of her sexual feelings brought out in the light of day.
Erica was glad now for the money that she had spent to create her new identity. When the lawyers had recommended some shadowy people to her, and a high price, she had balked. What they had done was to create a new identity for her, then ruthlessly drill it into her after her recovery from the plastic surgery.
Where she grew up, her schooling and friends. Her grades, boyfriends, sexual encounters, and all of the other details of ordinary life. At first, Erica had resented all of this silliness. It was only later that she learned that the people she had hired were retired agents from the CIA and Justice Department, who had trained undercover operatives for spy missions.
Erica was then able to recite from memory her new life, and she believed that Keith accepted it. He had not asked her about Alana Peters again, but she always felt that he harbored some doubts about who she really was.
Still, that did not matter. For Keith was a wonderful Master. Every encounter with him left her satisfied, and wanting more. She adored being with him, feeling his lash, and following his training. Which often left her exhausted, and hurting.
She had done the shopping the previous night, and everything was in the car. She would cook dinner for Keith and Beth!
Erica parked the car and opened the front door of the house, then unloaded the groceries. She quickly brought them into the kitchen, where Beth had laid everything out for her in advance.
Repairing to a bedroom, she stripped off all her clothes, then donned an apron. She would not wear her collar and bracelets until later that evening when she would be used in the playroom downstairs. Dashing back to the kitchen, she glanced at the clock, and set about preparing Beef Stroganoff.
First, she cooked the meat and spices in a Dutch oven on top of the stove. That would take about an hour. While that was cooking, she prepared a salad, and set the table. She placed candles on the table, since she wanted this dinner to be special.
Just before the meat was ready, Erica heard the front door open. She rushed out of the kitchen to see Keith standing in the foyer, carrying his case.
“Erica,” he greeted her.
“Master,” said Erica when she knelt before him.
“You had better get back to the kitchen, that smells wonderful!” he commented.
“Thank you, sir,” said Erica as she rose.
When the beef was done, Erica heard the door open again, and guessed that Beth must have come back from work. She was soon joined in the kitchen.
“Mmmmm,” said Beth as she entered the kitchen, “I can’t cook like that.”
“I took a few classes,” said Erica.
“Can I help?” asked Beth.
“We can start with the Salad and Black Bread, and by the time we’re finished with that, the noodles will be done and we’ll be ready for the main course.”
The three of them sat down, and opened a bottle of red wine before eating, and started on the salad first. Erica would glance at the clock to gauge how the noodles were cooking. She finished her salad, then excused herself.
The noodles were done, and Erica drained them. Beth joined her, and they carried a pot with the noodles and another with the main course itself into the dining room. They placed both on the table and uncovered them both. Erica ran back to the kitchen and placed some sour cream into a dish, then placed that on the table as well.
Beth placed a generous helping of noodles onto a plate, and then Erica topped it with the Stroganoff, finally followed by some sour cream. She placed it in front of Keith, who inhaled the fragrant aroma rising in front of him.
There was also a pitcher of hot tea, making it as Russian a meal as possible.
“Excellent,” he said after sampling some of Erica’s cooking, “simply excellent.”
“Thank you, Sir,” replied Erica.
With that, Erica and Beth served themselves and they began eating, exchanging small talk about work. Erica had finally found peace in serving and submission. Her search had finally ended.
In the first month of her service to Keith, she had not been used. He had insisted that her injuries from Daniel heal first. He had ordered that she read all of the books that she had bought about D/s; then assigned some of his own as well. She had to write commentary on each one, and understand the point that the author had written. Once, she had failed to read a book as ordered, and he had paddled her until she could barely sit down. After that, she had obeyed all of his orders without question.
After Dinner, Erica and Beth were washing up the kitchen and stowing everything away when Keith walked in.
“Sir?” asked Erica.
“When you’re done with the dishes, I would like to see you in the study. Alone.”
“Yes, Sir,” Erica answered quickly.
Deep down, in the pit of her stomach, Erica was suddenly afraid. His look and tone had told her that something important was going to happen. But she had no clue what it might be!
After Erica and Beth had finished, Erica removed her apron that she had worn since she had entered Keith’s house and started cooking. Naked, she felt vulnerable again, even though the apron really hadn’t covered her much at all.
She was wearing mules, and walked to Keith’s study. The door was open, and she knocked the frame, holding her breath.
“Enter,” Keith ordered, “and kneel.”
“Yes, Sir,” Erica did as she was told.
“Are you satisfied with your training?” demanded Keith.
“Yes, Sir. You have tested both my body and my mind.”
“Good. Then I have achieved my objective. Do you consider yourself to be a Dominant, or a submissive?”
“I am your slave,” proudly stated Erica.
Keith opened the top drawer of the desk, and removed a flogger the strands of which were made of rubber. Erica remembered that it had been used on her before.
“Hands behind your head,” Keith coldly ordered.
Once she had done so, and her breasts stuck out, Keith rose from his chair walked the few steps over to her, and struck her breasts several times with the flogger. The multiple strands stung each time they impacted on her flesh.
“Answer the question,” ordered Keith, “Dominant or submissive?”
“I,” Erica stammered, “I………I’m not sure, Sir.”
“Better,” Keith answered, striking her breasts several times more with the flogger, before resuming his seat.
“Why?” cried Erica, “why?”
“You can put your hands on your knees, Erica. You have been an eager and willing slave these last few months, and I’m proud of your progress.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Erica answered as she did what she was told.
“But you must understand what we have discussed earlier. I can’t keep you as a slave, Erica.”
“Sir, I want to owned by you.”
“I can’t do that, Erica. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it has to be. Perhaps your destiny lies along a different path.”
“I’m not really sure that you’re a submissive. At least, not totally. When I let you Domme that female slave Rachel last month, you displayed excellent skills with her.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Tonight, for preparing such an excellent dinner, I shall use you in the playroom. Then perhaps I can arrange a surprise for tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Erica answered, happy that she had made her Master feel the same way.
“Rest for a while, and then don your collar and bracelets. I’ll be along shortly. Thank you,” said Keith.
“Thank you, Sir,” Erica answered.
On her way out of the room, Erica wished that he would have fondled her breasts, pinched her nipples or bottom, or done something with her. Instead, he would only use her in the playroom.
After she had been with Keith and Beth for a month, he had told her that they were called “Trainers;” a couple that would train slaves for others, both Doms and Dommes. They would train her, but probably not keep her as a slave themselves.
At the conclusion of their training, they would help find Erica a suitable Master. Indeed, last month, they had introduced her to one. He was attractive, handsome, and he had been allowed the use of her. However, Erica didn’t like him very much, there hadn’t been any chemistry between them.
Pausing outside Keith’s study, a wave of melancholy swept over Erica. She desired something else, and she returned to his door.
“Sir?” asked Erica.
“Yes,” he answered.
“Could I be chained in the playroom for a while, alone, before my use, please?” asked Erica.
“Yes, go ask Beth and tell her that I said that it would be all right. You wish to be alone, then?”
* * * * *
Erica rested her bare bottom and the soles of her feet on the polished wooden floor of the playroom. Her neck was encased in her collar, and her wrists were wearing the familiar leather bracelets. A single chain that began at a ringbolt set in the wall was first locked to her collar, then her wrist bracelets, and finally ended in a pair of steel cuffs that had been locked on her ankles.
Bound like this, she could extend her legs until they were flat on the floor, but instead she preferred to draw her knees up and rest her hands and head on her kneecaps.
Erica sat in silence, not knowing or caring how long she was bound. Keith had first placed her in this position in the playroom, and she had been forced to endure it for hours. But over time, Erica had decided that she liked being bound, and she even tugged at the steel cuffs on her ankles.
It was strange, she thought, that her mind could roam at will, and think of all kinds of things, even as her body was chained to the wall.
She fingered the steel cuffs on her ankles, and thought of Irene at work. Irene was a secretary who was an active vital woman, indeed Erica had tagged along one day after work to happy hour and had shared a few drinks and dances with her. Irene had just announced her engagement, and she had begun to wear both a ring around her finger and a chain around her ankle.
While she didn’t double date with Irene, she had heard from the other girls who did that Irene was now playing dumb towards her fiancée. She would agree with whatever he had to say, did what she was told, and keep her opinions to herself.
The usual rationale that a woman gave in life for doing that to herself was that sort of conduct was the price of having and keeping a man. That was the price of a diamond ring.
Was that so different than the price that she was paying to be a slave? Except that in exchange for being a slave and wearing chains, she was free to be whipped and striped by her Master.
At least what Erica did in being a slave was more honest, submitting herself and her body to the use of a Master. It took a lot of strength to do that, thought Erica. To endure the lash and the crop showed not her weakness, but her courage as well!
Seated on the floor, Erica thought that it just wasn’t fair! She had endured so much, suffered so much, had finally found a Master who she could love, and he couldn’t own her for long! He would interview other Masters for her, and finally select one and that would be the last that she would see of Keith.
She had wanted to be chained so that she wouldn’t even have the illusion of freedom. There was something implacable about steel and leather restraining her. Which had made slavery very real to her in a physical sense.
Erica looked at the other toys in the playroom. There was an X frame, a padded bar that a slave could be bent over and bound to, a set of stocks, and various other chains that a slave could be secured to. In the last few months, Erica had experienced all of these.
But nothing hurt a much as the knowledge that soon Keith would find a Master for her. She felt like crying, but tears wouldn’t come. All of her life, she had been taunted as the rich girl. First at Greenwich High School, next at Radcliffe, then at Harvard.
She wondered just how many other female graduates from Harvard were into D/s. Probably not many, and Erica thought that the experience might be good for some of them. Might just make them humble and teach them a thing or two.
If her concerns about Keith weren’t enough, her sexual confusion was causing her problems as well. Prior to making love to Jasmine that night, she had never before been made love to by a woman. She thought that she had always been attracted to men.
But now every time that she passed an attractive woman in the street or the mall, she undressed them with her eyes. More than once, her nipples had hardened and she felt her panties wet with desire.
Erica rubbed her toes together, enjoying the sound of the chain clinking together. She pulled at it with all her strength, fantasizing that she could pull it from the wall. Instead, all it did was to make the muscles stand out in her arms, and she still remained chained.
“All you all right, Erica?” asked Keith.
Erica had not heard the door open or his steps to her. She had been so wrapped up in thoughts that she had kept hidden for weeks.
“No, yes, I don’t know!” declared Erica.
“Are you doing penance for something? Would you like to be locked in the stocks?”
“No, sir. Chained on the floor is just fine.”
“I’m sorry I don’t have a cell of some kind, but I never got round to building one."
Erica laughed, and his comments brought a smile to her face.
“What do you want, Erica?”
“Make love to me, Sir. Take me on the floor, spread my legs, and fuck me. Hard, any way you like. It doesn’t matter.”
“You know why I can’t really do that,” said Keith.
Erica then clinked her chains in response.
“Do you still consent to be used tonight?” asked Keith.
“Yes, use me, please. Hard,” begged Erica.
“As you wish. Beth will be by shortly to hang you from the ceiling. I won’t keep you waiting too long.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Erica hoped that she would be in for a really intense session. One that would leave her body marked, one where she would be screaming in pain and pleasure afterwards.
Pain, she had read, sharpens the mind.
She waited in her chains for what would happen next, and drew her knees up to her chin. Erica reached down between her legs and pulled at the steel around her ankles. Bondage brought patience, if nothing else. After all, she had nowhere to go.
* * * *
After some time, Beth joined her, who then released Erica from the floor. She glanced down at herself, and hoped that when Keith would be finished with her that she would be thoroughly striped.
“Come,” directed Beth.
Erica had not worn her ankle bracelets, and the chain that had bound her terminated in two gleaming stainless steel cuffs. So Beth had handed them to her, and Erica had locked them upon herself.
Beth was now wearing a black rubber bodysuit, and Erica noted that she had nothing on underneath. Beth’s nipples protruded under the rubber, and the outlines of her slit were visible from the tight rubber as well. She was wearing a thick black rubber collar around her neck, earrings, and a pair of matching black heels.
Erica remained silent as she was led to a ceiling chain, and Beth secured her wrist cuffs. Then, Beth retrieved a spreader bar from the cabinet, and locked Erica’s ankles apart. Finally, Beth activated a small motor, and Erica rose off the floor a few inches.
Hanging from the ceiling made Erica’s breasts stick out, and made her conscious again of just how exposed she was. But that didn’t matter, nothing did.
However Keith would use her, she wouldn’t protest. She wouldn’t beg for mercy, or cry. She wanted all of the punishment that her Master could give.
“Are you ready?” asked Beth.
“Yes,” answered Erica, “I don’t care what Keith does to me.”
“I’ll be sure and tell him that.”
Erica didn’t know and didn’t care how long she hung by her wrists. Her feet were within touching distance of the floor, which she could feel with her toes. After a while, her shoulders had begun to hurt, but it didn’t matter.
She could not be possessed by the man that she loved so what better than to be severely used by him instead. His marks would be the indication of his love for her, and those alone.
“Kiss the whip.”
Keith’s sudden orders startled Erica back to reality, for she had been captivated in her own little world.
“Your use will come in two parts. First, I am going to whip you severely. I shall not strike you hard enough to break the skin, or make you bleed. But I shall leave many stripes behind that will sting and marks behind that will last. Do I have your consent?”
“Then you shall be taken down and strapped tightly over the bar. I will then use the cane on your bottom and thighs. Do you consent to that also?”
“Is this by your own choice?”
“Do you want a gag? You can hold a coin and when dropped it will be your safeword signal.”
“No sir, I don’t want a gag. Please proceed?” she asked.
“Very well then, you will not have to count the strokes. Prepare to be used.”
Erica tensed in her bondage, aware that this was the path that she had chosen for herself. Her muscles tightened by themselves, in anticipation of the ordeal that she was about to undergo.
“Now we begin,” said Keith.
In the months she had been trained by Keith, she had learned to recognize his mood by the force and rhythm of his strokes. He had asked her a direct question, and she had deliberately avoided giving him a direct answer. Then she had asked to be chained in the playroom and given a severe punishment.
It was no wonder that his strokes were firm and effective, as the whip slapped itself against her flesh then wrapped around her. With each stroke, her moved a bit, gradually circling her, so that the whip would strike a different part of her body each time.
With her legs opened, every few strokes she would feel it reach inside and strike the outside of her sex. Then either her breasts or underarms would feel the sting of the whip.
“Ten!” cried Erica.
“There’s no need to count, Erica,” said Keith.
“I’ll count anyway,” answered Erica.
“As you wish.”
Nothing else in the world mattered now, as each stroke of the whip impacted on her flesh. Nothing! She was just a naked woman, going under the lash of the man that she desired, but couldn’t have.
When Keith and Beth had taken her under their wing, and had begun to train her, Erica thought that she finally had found what she had always wanted. But when she had discovered that they were only going to have her for a short period of time she had felt betrayed.
Keith had fulfilled everything that he had said that he would do with her. He had first ordered her to begin reading and understanding just what she had chosen.
When her wounds from Daniel had finally healed, he had started to use her. The very first thing that she had chosen was her safeword, which was mercy. Not very original, but it would do!
He had begun training her slowly, gradually at first. Her posture had been corrected, and she no longer slouched. Instead, she held herself straight, and her breasts stuck out. Beth had taught her how to walk, and show off her body.
Even her co-workers had noticed something different in her as the weeks passed, and one woman had tried to set her up with a neighbor. Erica had politely declined.
At a scene party that Keith and Beth had taken her to, she had overheard a conversation about a sub that would wear out her Dom. The woman could simply absorb so much punishment that she would tire her Dom out.
Erica never knew how long that Keith could use her, since he had never used her in anger before. But now she didn’t care!
The sweat was pouring off her body, dripping down her breasts and between her legs. She felt the drops join and run together, her skin heating up from the constant strokes of the whip.
Her mind had divorced itself from her body, and she felt herself floating outside, looking down at herself. Just as she had learned to do while in the hospital bed, as they had denied her the painkillers that she had begged for.
“Enough,” said Keith, “Beth, take her down quickly!”
Erica had not realized that she had been crying until she tasted the saltiness of her own tears running into her mouth. Keith unlocked her spreader bar, then the ceiling chain. Erica slumped into his arms, her body unable to support it’s own weight. He pulled her over to a leather-covered bench, and sat her down, holding her closely to his body.
“Are you all right?” Daniel asked.
“Fine,” Erica sobbed.
“I should have stopped long ago.”
“No, it’s all right. Really.”
Erica’s entire body was slick with her sweat, and she felt Keith’s hands grip onto her strongly so that she wouldn’t slip out of his grasp. Her body was warm, like it was on fire. But she didn’t feel any pain at all, but rather a dull ache throughout her whole frame.
Keith held onto her, and Erica remained silent, slowly regaining her faculties. She rubbed her hands together, and her hands and arms were the only part of her body that had not felt the lash.
Erica looked at her legs, and saw that they were extensively marked. Even though it was summer, she would have to wear pants until the marks healed, as a skirt would be out of the question.
“What are you thinking about?” Keith asked.
“Pants, I’m going to have to wear pants until my legs heal.”
“Would you like a drink?”
Beth handed Erica a glass of water, and she drank it slowly, a swallow at a time. After a session, she had once tried to drink too fast, and had choked. So Erica had learned to take water slowly after an ordeal like the session that she had just done.
“Are you all right?” asked Keith, again.
“We don’t have to continue, we can stop now. You’ve just had a harsh session, not many slaves could have taken that much use.”
Glancing down at herself, Erica was shocked to see the marks between her legs, on her breasts, her stomach. Everywhere except her bottom! Which was why she could sit down in the first place!
Keith had not beaten her behind since he intended to use the cane there later. She would have been unable to sit down with her bottom on fire.
Erica guessed that a half-hour or more had elapsed, and she had drunk two more glasses of water. She wondered just how much she had sweated out when she had gone under the lash, and she desired a bath, badly.
“I’m ready to continue,” stated Erica firmly.
Had she really asked to be further used? Keith had shown her all of the instruments in his cabinet, including the cane. She had weighed the rod in her hands, and feared the day that it would actually be used upon her.
“Are you sure?”
Erica had wanted to answer that if she could not have his shaft inside her, then she would settle for the cane instead. But she had stayed silent. Merely nodding her assent.
Erica rose shakily from the bench, glad that she was barefoot and not wearing any kind of heels, high or otherwise. There was a full-length mirror set into the wall, and Erica walked over to it. It was hidden behind a panel, which she unlocked.
Naked, she unlocked the panel and swung the door open. She almost wanted to gasp when she saw the fresh marks on her body, though she realized that she had regularly heard stories about slaves who were often whipped until they bled.
She closed the panel in silence, then walked over to the vinyl-covered sawhorse. Erica opened her legs, then bent over, her hair cascading down around her legs.
All that she needed now was for either Beth or Keith to bind her to the horse, and her second ordeal could begin. She waited, wondering is Keith would continue, or decide to stop.
“Bind me,” Erica ordered, “then cane me, please?”
“There’s no need for this, Erica, you’ve already proven yourself tonight. You deserve praise for a Dinner like that, not a severe beating instead,” said Keith.
Dinner seemed like a million years ago, had she really done that? Twice now in her slavery she had made an extravagant meal, and both times she had been severely used. Though for different reasons.
“Use me, please?”
“Beth,” Keith ordered, “bind her.”
Erica dully watched as her bracelets were locked to the sawhorse and pulled tight. Her arms and legs were stretched, and her bottom was sticking up high in the air. Her stomach was resting on the vinyl-covered surface. Beth pulled the chains binding her taut, and Erica would no freedom of movement at all.
Keith displayed the cane for her in his hands. He held it tightly in his fingers.
“This is a rattan cane, made from bamboo. It will hurt you very much. There is no need for this Erica, you have proven your submission to me.”
“Go ahead, Sir. I am ready to receive your punishment,” Erica replied.
“As you wish then.”
In her time as a slave, Erica had been used with a whip, crop, cat, paddle, and other instruments of punishment. But nothing had prepared her for the impact of the cane, which felt like a streak of fire across her bottom.
“Aaaaaah!” Erica cried.
Strokes with the cane were delivered slowly, one at a time, each one calculated to bring the most agony to the intended subject.
Erica quickly realized why she had been bound in this manner. The only parts of her body that Keith would use the cane on would be her bottom and the back of her thighs, two parts that had the most fat to cushion the impact of the cane.
Even though she had been harshly whipped for a long time, Erica realized that not even the most trained and experienced slave would ever be able to take many strokes from the cane.
Not even the pain that she had endured in the hospital bed as her body healed from the accident had been like this. This was different.
Erica had not called mercy, even as she had been whipped. But now, for the first time in her slavery, she considered using her safeword.
The sixth stroke of the cane landed on the inside of her exposed thighs, and Erica was concerned that she would lose control of her bowels, which stayed clamped shut.
Tears fell from her eyes onto the floor, and she saw the playroom lights reflected in them.
The eighth stroke across her bottom left Erica wondering not if she would sit down, but if she would ever sit down again
Pain, she had read, ennobled a person. Evidently the person who wrote that had never been used with a cane.
“Aaaaaah!” cried Erica.
She had counted ten stokes, and then there were no more. Her body was again ablaze, even more than before. Erica had come close to calling her safeword, for the first time. There was a limit to her endurance and tolerance for pain, which she had thought was limitless.
“Beth, release Erica,” ordered Keith.
Erica was released, and led over to the bench. She sat down gradually, her behind on fire.
“I have to get some salve, Erica,” said Beth, “you’ll feel better in a bit.”
Erica looked at Keith, directly into his eyes, which was also forbidden.
“Thank you, Master,” said Erica.
“You’re welcome, Erica.”
Keith then left the playroom, and Beth to take care of Erica. Beth would massage salve onto her skin, bathe her, and give Erica plenty of fluids. Finally, she put Erica to bed, and Erica fell quickly to sleep.
* * * *
It was during the early hours in the morning when Erica heard a noise in her bedroom. She was naked under the single sheet, and still weak from her ordeal. Beth had told her that she would be all right after a night’s rest.
The noise had awakened her, and she was afraid, was there a burglar in the house?
“Erica?” asked Keith’s voice, “are you awake?”
“Yes, sir,” she softly answered.
“How are you feeling?”
In the dim moonlight, she saw that Keith was wearing a short black kimono robe. She watched as he removed it, and draped it over a chair.
Keith lifted the sheet and slipped into the bed next to Erica, and faced her in the darkness.
“I have explained your feelings to Beth, and she has understood them. For just this one night, Erica, I shall make love to a slave that I am training. Never again with you, or anyone else.”
“Keith,” said Erica as she grabbed hold of him, before he wrestled her onto her back.
Erica did not need to be told what to do. She opened her legs to admit his shaft, which was already hard. He had a few foil wrapped condoms in his hands, which he deposited on the night table. He tore open one and Erica unrolled the latex on his hard cock.
Her sex was already wet, and he penetrated easily. Erica arched her back so that her could drive his shaft deep inside her, and she moaned with pleasure.
He soon began to piston his thighs back and forth, and Erica matched him stroke for stroke. She had not been made love to for a long time, and his cock rammed into her. This was more than sex, somehow. He had whipped and caned her, had brought her to tears and the edge of her safeword. Now he was taking her sexually, between her legs. Everything else this night had been a prelude.
Erica came quickly, moaning softly as her nails dug into his back. She held him tightly to her, not wanting to believe that this was actually happening.
They made love three times, before Erica was completely exhausted. He kissed her, and she returned his kiss.
“I love you,” said Erica.
“Sometimes we love things and people that we can’t have,” said Keith, “go to sleep, and you can sleep as late as you want.”
By then, Erica was soundly asleep, with a smile on her lips.
* * * * *
Erica awakened slowly, her body had needed the long rest from the events of the night before. She felt her naked body under the sheet, and her fingers flew to her sex.
In a flash, she remembered everything. Her request that Keith harshly use her, since her could not be her Master once her training was over. The whip and then the cane, followed by his visit to her bedroom late in the evening.
Erica sat up in bed, and got to her feet. She walked into the bathroom, and drew one cold glass of water after another. She was still wearing her collar and cuffs, and Erica decided that she looked like quite a sight in the mirror.
Beth had left the keys on the dresser, so Erica unlocked the steel and leather from her neck, wrists, and ankles, then stepped under the hot shower. Erica had never felt so exhausted or used in her entire life.
Keith was a skilled Master with the whip. Though she had endured fifty strokes, there was no blood on the tub’s floor as she showered. Her body ached, and she would feel the effects of the cane whenever she sat down for days, but she was not seriously injured or hurt.
After her shower, she dried and perfumed herself, then set her hair. Finally, she replaced the collar and bracelets, and put on a pair of modest heels that Beth had left for her.
She walked out of her bedroom, and through the house into the Kitchen. Erica glanced at the clock, and found that it was already eleven AM.
“Good morning,” greeted Beth.
“Did you have a nice rest?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“How do you feel?”
“We’ll be having lunch at one, but I’ll make you coffee and toast.”
“That would be just fine, thank you.”
What does one say to your Master’s wife after he has made love to you, Erica thought silently to herself. She ate in silence, and the juice, toast, and coffee quieted the rumblings in her stomach.
“Keith would like to see you in the study,” said Beth after she had finished eating.
“Thank you,” said Erica as she finished her last cup of coffee.
Erica knocked on the door of Keith’s study, which was closed.
“Come,” she heard from inside.
Erica opened the door, and Keith was seated behind his desk, papers lined up neatly in rows.
“Have a seat.”
“Thank you,” said Erica as she sat down, naked, in a leather chair facing him.
“How do you feel?”
“Fine, though my bottom will be tingling for days, Sir.”
“I have been thinking about your situation all day, Erica. A slave that wants no Master except the Trainer that she can’t have. You have been a good student, Erica. And you would make a superb slave for any Master, but you don’t want that either.”
Erica stayed silent, her legs open and her hands on her knees. She felt the leather on her bottom, and she knew that her skin had stuck to the surface.
“Until now, I have trained slaves. It appears that you are the first Mistress that I have trained.”
“Sir!” Erica exclaimed in shock, “Mistress?”
“Erica, when we begin a path in life, sometimes we finish up on a totally unexpected direction. I read how you used that slave Jasmine months ago. I read it in your interviews, below the surface. That’s why I wanted you to use another slave sometimes.”
If Erica had been confused before, now she was totally confused. Slave to Dominatrix? In less than two years time?
“Do you want to be a Domme, Erica? Will that settle your dilemma with yourself?
“I don’t know, Sir.”
“There’s always the stocks, I can lock you in them after lunch. Great way to think, and they did a lot of that in New England during Colonial times.”
“No sir, that will be quite all right,” Erica answered.
“Your assignment today will be to write down all of your Dominant feelings, in between doing the housework. Since the house is mostly clean anyway, you'll have plenty of time. And you had better prepare yourself for tonight.”
“I said that I was going to have a surprise for you, and I will. Beth and I have a hospital dinner to attend, a long and boring rubber chicken dinner and plenty of speeches as we try and raise community money for the hospital.”
“What am I going to do, Sir?” asked Erica.
“I have a good friend, Mistress Sharon. She has a policy that once a year she likes to be used by me, so she doesn’t forget what the whip feels like. I’m giving you the chance to use a Dominatrix, Erica. That will be your test to see if you can be a Domme yourself.”
Erica swallowed, as she had a huge lump in her throat.
“You’re going to be graded on your posture, how you handle her, your language and bearing. Also how you use her in the playroom, if you’ve learned what I’ve taught you. If she pleases you, you can take her to bed, or chain her on the floor next to you. Whatever you do, Sharon will give me a complete report on your use of her. That will determine your future, Erica. Are you up to this?”
“Yes, Sir. But I admit that I’m scared.”
“A fork in the road is always scary, Erica. But I think that your talents lie holding a whip’s handle,” said Keith.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“You may go.”
“Thank you, Sir,” said Erica as she took her exit, rising from the seat, the leather sticking to her bare bottom.
Before she started the housework, she donned an apron, and sat in the kitchen, drinking a soda and wishing for a cigarette. Had it been just 2 years ago that she had sought out Mistress Martine in the city?
* * * * *
Keith had chosen to wear a tuxedo, and Beth had chosen a blue dress. They had both showered and cleaned up, and Erica had helped them dress. She was no longer naked and collared, but instead wore a blouse and skirt.
Just as Keith and Beth were leaving at 7 PM, another car drove up. Erica’s stomach was in her throat as she watched as the tall blonde exited the car, and walked up to the landing.
“Erica Riken?” asked the woman.
“You must be Sharon,” replied Erica, “please enter.”
Erica escorted her inside, and closed the door behind her guest. The woman was wearing a red dress, and modest heels, just like she was going out for a date.
“Have I missed Master Keith?” she asked.
“You just missed them,” Erica answered.
“So I guess that I have to introduce myself. I’m Mistress Sharon Kelly,” she said, extending her hand.
“I’m your final exam,” said Sharon calmly.
“You don’t mind submitting yourself to a slave?” asked Erica.
“No, because I started as a slave. Keith trained me, I had a Master, then I became a Dominatrix.”
“Would you like something to drink?” asked Erica.
“A soda would be nice,” replied Sharon.
Erica was really not sure what to make of Sharon. All the time they spoke, she had to resist the urge to kneel in front of her. They shared a soda in the kitchen together, making small talk.
“I’d like to freshen up and prepare,” said Sharon when they finished.
“Sure, in the bedroom, then meet me in the study,” answered Erica.
As she watched Sharon leave, Erica was more scared than when she had learned again to walk. Or sought out Mistress Martine for her first experience under the lash.
When Sharon emerged from the bedroom she would be naked and collared. Erica rushed to the other bedroom to change into a leather bra and skirt.
Her final exam had begun.
The End of “The Challenge” Chapter Six Part One
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