Sara's Silken Ladder Ch. 02

But when I shivered as my mistress led me to the whipping post, it wasn't due to the cold, even though the room was, in fact, quite chilly. The Chinese maid stood silently by the door. As Helen paused to let me take in the situation -- she was an expert in drama and ritual -- I looked at the two of them. My mistress, tall, cool and elegant, and Simone, petite and appearing much younger than he was, in her exotic costume. Both smiled at me, then Helen took my wrists and hefted them up above my head, cuffing me to the chain, which stretched my arms uncomfortably high above my head.

'Open your legs!' she ordered, and Simone dropped into a crouch, to strap my ankles into leather cuffs attached to floor-bolts I hadn't spotted. They held my legs wide apart, so that I was, in effect, completely immobilised. I had never felt so vulnerable.

'Doesn't she look lovely?' said Helen, 'I can't wait to see her whipped.'

Simone came close -- close enough that I could feel her perfumed breath against my cheek.

'I'm going to hurt you, darling,' she said, huskily, her French accent now more noticeable, 'you don't mind, do you?'

I shook my head.

'You must reply!' rapped Helen.

'Yes, mistress.'

'Yes, you mind, or what?'

'I don't mind, mistress.'

'Good. Please go ahead, Simone.'

I was trembling now -- though whether from fear, or the anticipation, I couldn't have said. Simone took a couple of strides back, as I looked over my shoulder, then let her whip uncoil and trail down to the floor. I tried for a proud look as she wished the long, braided leather lash through the air. Then it was time, and the narrow thong whistled as it flew through the air, then CRACK! The sting was worse than I had imagined, falling across the middle of my back, the knotted tip snaking around my flank. As she prepared to flog me again, I saw that the red mark left by the tip of the whip's lash on my tender flesh was, though noticeable, superficial, and would be unlikely to do me serious damage. But, OH! How it hurt, and the second blow was much worse, as it fell on my delicate buttocks, still smarting from my mistress's cane of a couple of nights ago. I gasped, in spite of my determination to withstand my whipping in silence. Then CRACK! Again, as an agonising stroke was laid across my shoulder blades. Almost the worst thing was not knowing where her next cruel stroke was to fall. I abandoned myself to a world I was now beginning to know well -- a world of pain, when nothing else mattered except the terrible, exciting agony of the whip. As Simone continued to thrash me, not neglecting the delicate areas of my inner thighs, I saw, through a mist of unbidden tears, that my mistress had slid up the hem of her gown, and was busy fingering her wet pussy, a look of utter rapture on her face as she approached an orgasm I knew I should soon share. For my juices welled up from somewhere deep within me, and, coinciding with another vicious, stinging blow to my lower back, I screamed, stiffened and writhed in my bonds as I came, almost blacking out with the force of my climax.

Amazingly, as she whipped me for several more minutes, I started to get that familiar thrill once more, and knew that I was on the verge of multiplying. When Simone dropped her whip and plunged her small hand in my pussy, and I felt her nails scratch at my rampant clit, I came once more, this time a slow, building orgasm, that felt like heaven.

My mistress was slumped on the sofa, her eyes glassy, when Simone released me.

'I've told Simone she can take you to bed tonight, darling,' she said, 'you don't need to come into work tomorrow -- I'll cover for you.'

I opened my mouth to protest, as I felt loyal to Helen, but neither did I want to hurt Simone's feelings, and I knew that they were close friends. When I looked at Simone, I knew that I would just love sleeping with her, feeling her slim, fragrant body, with those lovely firm tits, next to mine.

And so it was. Simone giggled like a schoolgirl when I compared my fingernail decoration with hers, and then she became serious as she tended the red welts she had given me, all down my back, my arse and my thighs, gently rubbing some soothing oils into them. Then I opened my legs to her, and let her tease my clit to erection, and she used a slim silver-coloured dildo on my anus, at the same time as she thrust a short, thick, stubby vibrator into my cunt. When she turned on the power, I came yet again -- the third time in around two hours. Then it was the Frenchwoman's turn, and I brought her off easily, my tongue-stud raking across her pussy before thrusting deep into her capacious, gaping arsehole. She screamed as if in agony at that, but the hot, black tunnel of her anus was such that I had no doubt she was used to it being penetrated.

We slept peacefully together, and, as Helen had given me the day off, and it was Simone's closing day, I accepted Simone's invitation to go out and lunch at a country pub. That evening Helen welcomed me back, and I could detect no trace of jealousy in her brief questions about my night and day. When we were ready for bed, however, she said, 'It's good to have you back, Sara. It excited me beyond belief to see Simone whipping you, you know.'

'Yes mistress, I know.'