Submitting to Mistress Patricia
4
W hat a rookie mistake! Brynne was ashamed, and it stung. During the ride home, she stewed on what might have happened if she had shut up and waited. That confident, elegant woman wanted to kiss her! And she’d wanted it just as badly.
When she got home, she was in a fine state of pique and horny as hell. She cursed herself for not replacing her broken vibrator so she would have to resort to an old-fashioned hand job. Brynne stripped and flung herself down on her bed. She closed her eyes and imagined Patricia’s mouth on hers. On her breasts. Between her legs. Then she imagined being made to reciprocate.
Her fingers found their purpose, dipping into her wetness and circling her clit until she was writhing in need. She rolled onto her stomach and slid two fingers up inside herself. Grinding down hard on the palm of her hand, she came, her body shuddering as she groaned into her bedspread. It barely took the edge off. Brynne used her other hand to push her fingers deeper inside and began plunging them in and out. With images of Patricia looming over her, a crop in her hand, she tapped her g-spot and screamed out a second delicious orgasm.
She woke several hours later, with her hands still between her legs. Her stomach growled as she stumbled to the kitchen to make some tea and toast. She sat at her kitchen table and pulled out the limits questionnaire. She had never seen a list like this before. No wonder her book was not hitting the mark. It was sorely lacking in some of the kinkier activities in the D/s scene.
Instructions at the top of the form indicated she was supposed to record a letter next to each item: [N] No way; [Y] Yes interested; [M] Maybe / Might try; [D] Don’t Know.
It seemed simple enough. Except the list was anything but.
She got halfway through the first page and stopped at forced masturbation , unable to process anymore. At two a.m., she crawled under the covers and tried to erase the deviant images floating around in her head.
Sunday dawned dark and gray. The smell of rain had wafted through her bedroom window, bringing a damp chill with it. She woke up tangled in her sheets after tossing and turning all night. After a hot shower, she decided it was a perfect day to stay home in her flannel pajamas and do some editing. But first she needed to take a closer look at the limits list. It was hard to admit how many items she ticked with a D for Don’t have a clue!
Plastic wrap never came up in her book research and she had no interest in breath play, electricity, or spitting. WTF? On a second read through, she changed some No way s to Maybe s, so she didn’t come across as a total novice. They couldn’t cover a fraction of the list in one hour, anyway.
Jared phoned and wanted all the details. She omitted what had almost happened between them and shared only that they drank sherry and hung out in her office talking for two hours.
“Wow! She must really like you, Bree.”
“She is very easy to talk to. I bared my bloody soul. But you didn’t tell me how beautiful she is.”
He chuckled. “You were already intimidated. I didn’t want to tell you she was a goddess. You would have freaked out more.”
“That was a good call.” Brynne smirked. “I was enough of a basket case.”
Even though she was curious, she didn’t ask about the questionnaire or his feelings about those activities. Some things were best left a mystery between them. They ended the call when Aunt Josie rang, saving her from further awkwardness.
Brynne groaned in agony when her alarm sounded on Monday morning. It was crucial to arrive an hour early to work. She couldn’t afford any hassles today from Margaret. Jared asked her out for coffee, but she made excuses about a tight deadline. In truth, she didn’t want to discuss what might happen later that night. Thankfully, Nigel and Margaret were not around when she ducked out at four o’clock. She raced home and took a bath, ensuring every nook and cranny was silky smooth.
She donned the sheer stockings and sexy garter belt she’d purchased to entice Ross. Although it had been a wasted effort on him, she was glad she treated herself to the sexy ensemble with a matching bra and panty set in pale purple.
By the time she arrived, her body was buzzing with arousal and anxiety about all the things that might happen. Brynne was loath to admit some of the shocking items on the list made her pulse race.
Patricia’s assistant was tidying up her desk when she arrived. “Hi, you must be Brynne.” The forty-something woman beckoned her forward. “Do you have your list with you?”
Brynne pulled it out of her bag, hesitant to hand it over.
“I’m just going to run it through the copier; I’ll give Patricia the original, and you can keep a copy for yourself.”
“Okay, th-thank you,” she mumbled.
When the assistant put it face down into the machine without looking at it, Brynne let air back into her lungs. She handed the copy to Brynne and placed the other in an envelope and sealed it.
“Through that door, you will find the changing room. When you’re ready, head on into the studio. Patricia will meet you there in fifteen minutes sharp. I’m heading out and will lock the door behind me.” She made quick work of putting her trench coat on and smiled mischievously. “Have fun, my dear!”
Brynne went into the small changing room and hung her coat up. She saw an envelope with her name on the front, in bold script. Quickly tearing it open, she sat on the red leather chaise to read it.
Brynne,
When you pass through the door to my playroom, you are giving yourself willingly into my care for a safe, sane, and consensual scene. While in this room, I expect you to obey me without hesitation. Failing to do so will result in swift punishment.
I will respect the limits you have set down. You have the right and responsibility to use your safe words appropriately. Red will stop the scene. Yellow will pause the scene to allow you to communicate any issues to me. Green is your consent to continue.
If you are gagged, I will give you a bell to hold. If you drop the bell, the scene stops. Shake the bell and I will pause. But only one time. Ringing it a second time will stop the scene.
Per our earlier email exchange, you have acknowledged receipt of the rules and safety precautions I take while you are under my care, and you confirm your consent again by entering the room.
When you enter, you will kneel on the mat beside the St Andrew’s cross. Clasp your hands behind your back and keep your eyes on the floor. You will address me as Mistress—and speak only when given permission. Leave your shoes off.
M.
She found a well-appointed bathroom, and a bare steel door that screamed secret dungeon. Brynne used the facilities and ran cold water on her wrists. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and gave herself a pep talk. Do as you’re told and don’t fuck this up, Brynne. This is an opportunity to open the door to this new world—to experience this lifestyle. Almost as an afterthought, she thought about her book and Linda’s advice. What better way to understand a dominant-submissive scene than to try it?
With trembling hands, she removed her dress and jewelry and locked them in the small locker with her purse. Am I doing this for the novel, or to satisfy my carnal curiosity?
Fear seized her chest—she’d forgotten to check the time. Without delay, she hurried into the next room, positioned herself as directed, and waited, heart thumping in her ears. She didn’t dare to look around in case she was being watched.
A door clicked shut, and Brynne shivered. She heard heels clicking on the hardwood, and then stunning knee-high leather boots with lethal stiletto heels and ornate pewter buckles came into view.
A gentle hand was on her chin, raising her bowed head. Brynne’s gaze traveled up a pair of shapely legs clad in fishnet stockings, past a black satin all-in-one corset that accentuated Patricia’s hourglass figure. She wore her hair pulled back in a high braid. Two arctic blue eyes stared back at her. Her ruby red mouth was a contradiction. It begged to be kissed while warning off anyone who dared to try.
She used a black riding crop that hung from one wrist to hold Brynne’s chin up. “You have much to learn of patience, Brynne.”
Brynne was not sure if she should speak and silently pleaded for guidance.
“Good girl. You may answer me when I ask a question. If I make a statement, I don’t expect a response. Whether I bestow a gift or a punishment upon you, I expect you to say, ‘Thank you, Mistress.’” She reached behind Brynne to pull something off the wall. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mistress,” she murmured.
“Put your arms above your head.”
Brynne complied at once.
Patricia buckled leather cuffs tightly onto each of her wrists, then pulled a chain down from the ceiling and hooked it through rings on the cuffs. She stepped away from Brynne to press a button on the wall, and the chain above her head pulled Brynne’s handcuffs upward with a soft whirring sound. The machine slowly dragged Brynne up until she was perched on her tiptoes. She exhaled in relief when it lowered slightly so her heels were back on the floor.
Mistress Patricia took her time and explored her captive body, dragging the wide leather tongue of the crop down the sensitive skin of her upper arm. Brynne shook as it tickled her under the arm. Next, Patricia scraped it across the tops of her breasts and then slowly back and forth over her sensitive nipples, causing them to strain against the satin of her bra. Brynne unconsciously tried to maneuver it into contact again and received a sharp, stinging smack on her tender skin.
“Ow!” That shocked her out of her dream state.
“Oh sweetie, that was nothing,” Patricia scolded. She pulled the cups of her bra down and tucked the material underneath, making Brynne’s breasts jut out.
A moment later, she felt the blindfold being tied snugly behind her head. The air left her lungs, and she whimpered in helpless arousal.
She felt Patricia standing close. Warm breath was on her cheek, then she felt her tongue trail along her lower lip. “Such a pretty little mouth you have, Brynne. It doesn’t look big enough to take a cock, but we both know it can.”
Brynne gasped and closed her mouth, feeling self-conscious.
“Perhaps I should have you demonstrate your skills on my strap-on?”
A hand tightened in her hair, pulling Brynne’s head back. Patricia nibbled on her bottom lip, then she kissed her—tentatively at first and then more hungrily. It was a sensual assault, and Brynne’s body swayed toward her. Their tongues entwined, and Brynne couldn’t get enough. It was soft, so different from kissing a man. When Patricia stepped back, she moaned her dismay.
“I’ve looked carefully at your limits list, and I’m pleased to see you are willing to push the envelope a little. It will be my pleasure to oblige.”
Brynne heard her moving around behind her. The sound of a little bell made her pussy react with a gush of wet heat. Patricia placed the bell in her left hand. “Hold on tight to it, pet. If you want me to stop, all you need to do is drop it.”
She gripped the little bell hard. “Yes, Mistress.”
Brynne felt cuffs being fastened to her ankles, then her legs were nudged apart. She heard the cuffs being attached to rings embedded in the floor. Patricia was behind her again, and Brynne shivered in anticipation. She played with her breasts, squeezing and pinching her overly sensitive nipples until Brynne gasped.
“I believe the instructions you received from my assistant were clear on what to wear. Any lingerie was at risk of being damaged.”
Brynne bit her lip to stop herself from answering. Patricia sounded annoyed, causing anxiety to roil in the pit of her stomach.
“I can tell this is expensive, so rather than cutting it off, I will punish you instead.” She unfastened her bra and pulled it roughly over her head and out of the way.
“Thank you, Mistress. I’m very sorry. I wanted to look sexy for you.”
“I’ll tell you what I find sexy, pet. You getting wet for me. Whether it’s your tears, your puss, or maybe just saliva dripping out of your gagged mouth.”
Brynne was stunned when Patricia forced her mouth open and pushed a hard ball past her lips. It was swiftly buckled behind her head, tight enough that she couldn’t dislodge it. She fought to keep from freaking out and wrapped her fingers tightly around the bell. She was trembling in reaction until Patricia twisted her nipples hard enough to make her whine loudly into the gag.
“Now, I’m going to make you a pretty rope harness. I want to see these voluptuous breasts bound, so they stand out for punishment. I’m so glad you ticked that box.”
Patricia wound several cords around her back and chest, above and below her breasts, compressing the flesh between. The rough strands tightened around Brynne’s sensitive skin, and she worked to calm her breathing. I’m not going to drop the bell , she told herself, but it sounded more like a command of desperation.
She tied the two bands together, so Brynne’s breasts swelled and stood out. Brynne was stunned at how sensitive and full they felt, and it sent a surge of sensation to her core. Her desire was outweighing her anxiety. She felt rope being wound around her hips several times, and then Patricia explained she was using a few well-placed knots to increase her pleasure. The sensual timbre of her voice increased Brynne’s excitement. Strangely, she also realized that she felt safe.
When Patricia pulled the ropes taut between her legs, she positioned them directly over her pulsing clit. The diabolical knots pressed her soaked panties tightly against both her openings. She moaned into the gag; secretly glad she couldn’t plead for release. Adding to her turmoil was the realization that saliva was dripping down her chin and onto her bound breasts.
“What a delicious sight you are.” Patricia’s soft hands glided like a whisper over her, caressing her breasts, her stomach, and the curve of her ass.
Brynne pushed her ass out in a blatant offering. She was aware of the consequences of what she was doing, and Mistress Patricia didn’t disappoint.
“Somebody is trying to top from below,” she said as she pulled her panties up, roughly tucking the material under the rope, baring her ass completely. “Seems I’ve been too soft with you and need to take corrective measures. You were impatient on Saturday, you wore lingerie that I had to make allowances for, and you have tried to direct my attention, instead of being attuned to what your Mistress wants from you.”
Brynne heard clinking behind her where various implements hung. She tried to say “I’m sorry” but it was inaudible. Heels clicked ominously closer and stopped behind her.
“I’m going to give you four strikes for each one of those misdemeanors. Twelve in total.”
Brynne whimpered.
“This wide leather strap won’t sting like the crop or bruise as much, so you should be grateful for small mercies.”
“Mmm,” she mumbled, and braced for impact.
It was unexpected when instead Patricia pushed a padded bench up against the front of her thighs and said, “I’d rather have you bent over for this.”
The whirring started lowering her arms. Her relief was short-lived when Patricia pushed her down over the cool leather platform. She refastened her wrists to the sides of the bench, trapping her there. Then she unhooked the ankle cuffs and brought her legs together, locking them to a new hook on the floor.
“Don’t move, my pet, or I may miss my target. And that will get you extra.”
Thwack! The first blow shocked Brynne, and she yowled into the gag. Radiating heat followed the harsh sting. The blows rained down on her backside, with no time in between. Patricia aimed her strap all over her butt and thighs until Brynne was squirming against her bonds and squealing for mercy. Her mind played a back-and-forth dialogue, one side urging her to drop the bell—and the other, more defiant side refusing to do it. Each time she jerked and bent her knees, the rope between her legs tantalized her clit. The pain began to blend into a fiery heat, and she realized that by pressing against the bench and squirming, her release was imminent. When the strap hit its target one last time, the symphony of sensations brought on a violent, earth-shattering orgasm.
Tears had been threatening, but with that cataclysmic release, the floodgates opened. Patricia dropped the whip and stood up against Brynne’s flaming ass, her hands quickly releasing the gag and the blindfold. Brynne was sobbing, not because it hurt, but because it was a cathartic release. As a rule, Brynne didn’t do vulnerable . With Patricia, she let herself go, safe in the knowledge she would take care of her.
Patricia held her tightly until her tears were spent. When she released the cuffs, Brynne was grateful not to be standing, fearing she could crumble to the floor. Patricia helped her up and led her to the satin-covered bed at the other end of the room.
She gave her some tissues to wipe her nose and smiled. “You are positively radiant, Brynne.”
As Brynne came down off her high, she became self-conscious. The rope harness was still wreaking havoc on her body, and she felt raw and exposed. Patricia, as if reading her mind, lay down beside her and pulled a soft fleece blanket over them both.
“You responded in a way that I’ve only seen a few times before. It was pure and beautiful.”
“Th-thank you. That was beyond anything in my imagination.” Brynne smiled shyly. “I’ve never come so hard in my life.”
“What did you like the best?”
“Being helpless and unable to see or speak. And the ropes feel like an extension of you holding me, squeezing me so intimately. It’s hard to explain how safe they made me feel.”
“I know how it feels, sweetie. I was a bottom before I discovered how much I liked to top.”
“Oh, wow.” Brynne smiled. “I guess that’s what makes you so good at knowing just how much and how hard. I thought the strap would hurt more, but after the initial shock, it was…” She paused, searching for the word. “Sublime.”
Patricia chuckled and tucked a strand of Brynne’s hair behind her ear. “Let’s get you untied.”
The sleek black Mercedes pulled away with Brynne cocooned in the back. She had the letter in her purse and soaked panties in the pocket of her coat. Patricia made her eat an apple with peanut butter and then insisted that her chauffeur would take Brynne home.
When they walked down to meet the car, Brynne was struggling to convey the magnitude of what she felt. “I don’t know how to thank you. I…”
“No need to thank me, sweetie. I had as much fun as you did, and I hope we meet again.”
Before Brynne could reply, Patricia handed her a bottle of water and kissed her on both cheeks.
“Drink this—it has electrolytes. And when you get home, have some carbs, then a hot shower and go to bed. Mistress’s orders.”
She shut the car door and waved them off. Brynne sank into the heated seat and closed her eyes. She couldn’t help but replay every moment of the night in her head.
The experience caused an irrevocable shift inside. Could those desires continue to be ignored? Should she lock them back up? Could she?
The sensations were unlike anything she had experienced in her life. Sure, she had looked at scenes like that on the internet, but they paled compared to the real thing. Christ, if she didn’t rein in her thoughts, her growing arousal was going to wet the expensive leather seat.
One thing is for certain. It’s no longer a question of what do I want, but how do I get what I need?