This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.
"Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire"
by Musker
and edited with choice additions
by Ms. Anne Gray
Inspired and dedicated to a very special Muse.
(part 11)
"Crushed by Christine"
Beth's angered memories tested the holding power of the straps that bound
her tightly to the pole. The strain of them flexing and creaking were the
results of Beth's increasing need for revenge on Christine. The memories of
being made a fool of in public and having to accept it with the gracious
demeanor of a stupid bimbo slave girl only added to her need to make her
nemesis suffer like she did.
It began right after the heart-breaking scene with her best college friend
Patricia. As Beth turned and left her deceived friend, she walked right
into the path of another female guest. Since Beth had to keep her eyes
looking down, the mark of a properly domesticated slave, she only saw the
woman's fashionable leather pumps and part of her long flowing gown. As
soon as she recognized a guest standing before her, she immediately went
into her happy serving wench greeting to welcome this special guest to her
public degradation and de-humanizing spectacle.
She watched in silent calmness as a delicate female hand with exquisite
manicured nails and impressive jewelry reached for one of the drinks on her
tray. Beth asked the woman if there was anything else that she could do for
her and the woman responded in the form of a question that only Beth could
answer.
"Tell me dear, is it hard for you to match the shade of your lipstick to
the color of your red ass, or is it done vice-versa?"
It was the BITCH!
Christine was standing right in front of her laughing and ridiculing her in
one fell swoop. All Beth wanted to do was to attack, to claw, to bite, to
sink her teeth into the arrogant egotistical flesh of this traitorous femme
fatale until she hit bone. But being completely dedicated to the success of
Katherine's plan, Beth just stood her ground in smiling serving wench form
and calmly answered back, "B, the bimbo slave girl of Mistress Katherine,
does not know how to answer Mistress Christine's question."
Beth decided that her best response was to swallow her anger, and pride,
and remain in character. It was far too risky to try and match witty
replies of mutual condemnation with Christine here at the party, but it
wasn't an easy task for her.
"Oh, I am sorry dear. I did not mean to use the English language in a
manner that your ditsy little mind could not comprehend, I mean UN-DER-
STAND. But let's not waste these tender precious moments together with me
trying to educate a cute, scatter brained, nitwit like yourself Beth.
Especially with information you should have learned a long time ago in
grade school. Now shall we dear?"
Beth firmed her grip on the serving tray as a means of defraying some of
the hostile stress that was growing exponentially within her. Again, she
played the well trained submissive to perfection and replied, "Yes Mistress
Christine, B is very thankful for your concern."
Christine took a sip of her drink and then announced in a clear voice of
amazement, "My goodness Beth! I am in AWE of your exceptional appearance
tonight. Each time I see you, you not only look more outlandishly sexy, but
in the realm of simple human dignity you seem to be quite lacking. You must
be so very proud of yourself my dear. But please Beth, do me a small favor
and perform a slow little turn for me. I do so want to see every last bit
of such an unique oddity as yourself."
Beth remembered how each of Christine's lewd and degrading comments cut
deeply into the quality of her spirit. And having to follow her orders like
a well-trained animal was adding tremendously to her already loathsome
self-image.
She remembered doing a cute little curtsey before slowing turning herself
around in place. Hearing Christine squeak and giggle at the way she looked
from one perspective to the next was like someone dragging their
fingernails on a chalkboard for her.
When Beth reached the point where her back was to Christine, Christine told
her to stop. Two more commands followed telling her to bring her legs
together and then bend herself forward at the waist keeping her legs
straight in the process. Beth just followed orders like the sexy mindless
robot she portrayed.
As she bent slowly over, Beth concentrated on maintaining her balance in
her six inch heels while trying not to spill any of the drinks that
remained on her tray. This little maneuver required her to focus her
thoughts on what she was doing and not to linger on how incredibly obscene
she must look to all those at the party. What with her big breasts hanging
down over the drinks like a cow ready to be milked. Not to mention how her
plump derriere slowly revealed itself in all it's naked red glory like a
street slut advertising her fuck holes.
When Beth's upper torso was about level she heard Christine tell her to
stop and hold her position. But in order for Beth to hold this pose for any
length of time she had to shift her center of gravity backwards. So now her
rear end stuck out even more brazenly so.
"Mercy me Beth! Your derriere is so BIG, and so RED! I bet it must still
hurt too. But I do believe I have seen your big butt redder than this
though. Do you remember my dearest friend Beth?"
Beth closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Oh how she hated Christine's
cheerful sarcasm. Did Christine really think that she could ever forget
that horrible night when she suffered the most scarring abuse at that's
bitch's hand?
Again, Beth forced her anger and human dignity deep within herself while
letting the bimbo serving wench B come out and deal with this waking
nightmare.
"Yes Mistress Christine, B remembers very well when you spanked her. And
Mistress Katherine has told B to thank you again for showing poor stupid
bimbo B the error of her ways that night."
"Oh how nice of your owner to say such a thing Beth! But then again, what
are friends for if not to be there when your dearest schoolmate is in dire
need of assistance. I was so glad that I could be of some help to your
whorish pink bimbo self that night Beth. I mean, the time and effort it
took me to turn your lily white derriere into a deep burning crimson red,
well, that was just my way of thanking you for all the times you were there
for me back in college. But how does your butt feel now Beth? Does it still
burn like it did that wonderful night at the police station?"
Beth could not believe the depths to which Christine would go to make her
life a living hell.
"B is unsure Mistress Christine. B's butt really hurt her bad that night,
and her butt really hurts her bad tonight too. It's just to difficult for
this lesbian bimbo slave girl of Mistress Katherine to think of a right
answer for you Mistress Christine."
"Oh poor little twit Beth. You truly do live up to your bimbo airhead
status in not knowing your ass from one day to another. But here, maybe I
can be of some help to you, one, more, time."
Beth recalled how her spiraling anger was quickly replaced with full-blown
terror. She suddenly believed that Christine was going to spank her, again!
Right there in the middle of the party, and before all the guests, and
Patricia!
She remembered how she tensed her entire body, to ready herself in
anticipation of that first vicious slap. That's how Tonya trained her. It
wasn't a question of surprise, but one of endurance.
She experienced so many butt slaps from Tonya during her training period
that the surprise aspect was no longer an issue. But what was an issue, was
the intensity of pain that was going to spike through her. She still had to
endure that. And to endure it without rebellion, without screaming or
begging for mercy, and above all, without moving a single inch. Thus, her
full attention was given to maintaining her "as is", bent over, butt out
position and not to what a pathetic excuse for a human being she gave to
the rest of the guests.
The center of Beth's focus was again on the tray of drinks she was
carrying. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was to accidentally
spill any of those drinks on the floor. If she did, she knew Katherine
would have to appear very angry with her, to save face and the plan. She
would be forced to chastise Beth herself, that is, after making her clean
up the mess with her tongue. The humiliation of her being on all fours, her
red butt sticking up and wagging from side to side like a happy little
doggie while her big pendulous breasts were swinging around under her like
some milk laden dairy cow as she licked every last drop that was spilled on
the floor. That would be the absolute worst humiliating act she had ever
experienced to date. So whatever degree of pain that Christine was about to
inflict upon her, she was ready to take it. She had no other choice.
Then it came.
Not the hard swat of a vengeful hand that brought hot searing pain to her
already aching butt, but a surprisingly, gentle, soothing cold.
Beth chuckled to herself, even now strapped to the pole. The possibility of
Christine doing something nice for her was too bizarre to even think as
being possible. But it did happen. Christine used the side of her cold
sweaty glass and glided it over her inflamed burning butt. And it felt so
good!
The soft moans of pleasure emanating from Beth's enlarged pouting red lips
seemed to permeate every occupied corner of the party. And the guests
listened and watched with silent smiling fascination.
Beth was lost in the soothing moment. She did not try to figure out why she
was experiencing such wonderful pleasure at the hand of the person she
hated the most in the world. It was all to confusing for her. Best to just
go with the flow and then put it behind her as soon as possible.
Beth remembered being so passively content with having the fire in her butt
coolly quenched away that she honestly didn't know when Christine stopped
stroking her butt cheeks and began playing with her pussy. Her touch was so
gentle there too. Well, it really wasn't "her touch" as if she was using
her own fingers. Christine would never degrade herself into actually
touching another woman's pussy, especially in public, and least of all
Beth's. No way! Instead, Christine used the plastic swizzle stick from her
drink.
Christine was stroking Beth's labia lips back and forth with the side of
the little plastic stick, sometimes making increasing and decreasing
circular movements around her sensitive little pussy nub. She would even
use the very tip to lightly scratch, tickle and probe Beth's most sensitive
spot.
Beth wanted to say NO MORE! But that was not an option given to her when
Tonya trained her. What was expected of her, however, was for her to appear
as though she enjoyed it. That is how a properly trained sex slave
responds. So she began to rock herself back and forth with each slow sawing
stroke of that damnable stick. She forced herself, through the humiliation,
to look aroused by performing a little sexy undulating pelvic hump too. And
of course, to add the icing on the cake, she managed a few well practiced
sensuous moans and groans that echoed her sweet passionate yearning for
more. Once again, her enemy was reaping revenge by making her look like
some soulless animal with a voracious appetite for sex no matter how it was
presented to her.
"My goodness Beth! I never realized how much of a horny little slut you
really are. To think, that all I have to do to get you all worked up and
your pussy dripping wet, is to play with your fucking cunt with a simple
swizzle stick. You really must like being a horny little slut after all,
don't you Beth?"
Beth hated having to respond to questions like this. It wasn't enough for
her to be put on naked display, or to demonstrate in public how incredibly
excited she became when touched in an embarrassing and degrading way. She
had to verbally admit to loving it as well. Insult added to injury was the
way she thought of it, and Christine was giving it to her with both
barrels.
"Yes Mistress Christine, B is a very horny slut just like you said."
"I thought so. Now stand up you little horny slut and face me."
Beth felt relieved that her aroused pussy exhibition was finally over with,
but she had a bad feeling that Christine was not quite through with her
yet. When she turned and faced Christine, with her down cast eyes, she
could see a cube of ice in Christine's delicate fingers waiting to be used
upon her. This time Beth knew she was in for it. Tonya didn't train her on
how to respond to a piece of ice, but somehow, almost instinctively, she
knew what to do.
Initially, it felt like someone touching the top of her breasts with a hot
poker. Her body did a bit of a knee jerk reaction when the ice touched her
tender warm skin. She even let out a little gasp of shock and pain from
that first contact. But as Christine began to slowly rub the ice cube over,
under and around both of her sensitive breasts the shock of the searing
cold was replaced with just plain hurt. Not that Beth could show it. Oh no!
Beth had to keep that "I love being a masochist. Please hurt me some more
Mistress" persona in clear view for all to see.
Instead of a wrinkled brow, quivering lips and an audible lamentation of
intense distress, Beth had to wear the lusting mask of sheer cooing
ecstasy. Even when Christine concentrated her efforts on Beth's nipples,
making them into hard erect nubs of cold numbing pain, Beth's pouting lips
and panting breath were whispering the words "More, please more."
All of a sudden Christine stopped. She told Beth to open her mouth and
popped the remaining icy weapon into her hot horny mouth to be dissolved
away by the wanton heat within.
"Beth, look at me."
Beth was taken aback by the seriousness in Christine's voice. She didn't
want to look at her, make eye contact with her, perhaps even lose her
submissive facade as a result of the anger rising up inside her. Besides,
Tonya made it clear to her in no uncertain terms to NEVER look at anyone in
the face. So she explained to Christine, "B is very sorry Mistress
Christine, but B must always keep her head erect but eyes looking down.
This is the mark of an obedient and well trained slave, and lesbian bimbo
slave girl B always obeys her Mistress Katherine."
"Trained Beth? Animals are trained, people are taught. Are you saying you
are nothing but an animal, like a dog? No different than a well trained
bitch to her Mistress. Is that what you are telling me Beth? That you are a
little doggie bitch in heat?"
Beth hated the inference Christine was making, but what could she do. If
she tried to confront her, then things could get out of hand and possibly
explode, ruining everything. So she continued to play poor dumb B and tried
to get away as quickly as possible.
"B does not know what you mean Mistress Christine. She is too dumb to
understand. And B does love Mistress Katherine very much and would never
want to disobey her. May B go now please and see to the needs of the other
guests at Mistress Katherine's party Mistress Christine?"
"You may go when you have looked at me, eye to eye Beth. Now look at me!"
"Please Mistress Christine, it is impossible for lesbian bimbo slave . . ."
"Beth! If you do not look at me NOW, I will go to Katherine and tell her
that I was not pleased with the quality of her slave girl. In fact, I will
tell her loud enough so that everyone will hear that I found you most
insolent, arrogant and far from being the well trained and obedient slave
you make yourself out to be. In short, I will make everyone believe you are
an imposter, a fake, and a fraud. I have no doubt that upon hearing my
public review of you, Katherine will be most embarrassed and displeased
with you. Just like she was in that interrogation room. You will have
ruined her party and as a result she will want to punish you right here and
before everyone. Maybe even I will be given the opportunity to chastise you
again Beth. Put you over my knee with your fat ass sticking up all nice and
bare ready for my hand. I would enjoy that Beth, very, VERY much. If you
don't want that to happen then look at me, NOW!"
Beth was once again in the position of picking the lesser of two evils. She
never wanted to suffer another humiliating and painful spanking at the hand
of Christine. So the only choice she had was to obey her. But she had to
stay in control of herself. She could not loose her cool obedient,
unemotional, smiling "I love being a lesbian bimbo slave girl" character.
She had to put Beth on a far back burner, just for awhile, and become
simply B in all that she was--heart, mind and soul.
It took her less than a minute. She slowly raised her eyes and looked
straight into the face and eyes of her tormentor from hell.
It was like time stood still. Each was looking directly into the eyes of
the other. The only difference was that Beth "continually" held her
smiling, deadpan facade, while Christine's face "changed". Hers went from a
victorious, grinning, soul searching stare, to one of a rebuffed wrinkled
gaze of frustration.
Christine then took a step back and told Beth to lower her eyes back down.
"I am very disappointed in you Beth."
Beth remembered how her heart fell to the lowest level of distress possible
upon hearing those words. For she thought that Christine was going to do
what she threatened to do if she failed to look at her. But then Christine
enlightened her about her disappointment.
"The entire reason for my coming here was to see you humiliated to tears
Beth. I must admit, that first time I witnessed your degrading
chastisement, especially via my own hand, I gained so much pleasure from it
that I thought I was going to have an orgasm right there on the spot. I
don't dislike you Beth, I passionately abhor you! The impasse we had in
college still exists today, at least in me it does. I needed to get my
revenge on you Beth, my pound of flesh in recompense for what you did to me
back then. What I did to you in that interrogation room went a long way in
appeasing my appetite for revenge, but it wasn't enough. I found I needed,
no craved, more.
That's why I came here tonight, to get another hit for my revengeful
addiction. I even had plans to ask Katherine if I may borrow you for a few
weekends now and then. Of course I would promise her that I would do
nothing to permanently hurt you. Just keep you all submissive, slavish and
under my direct control during your time with me. And during that time, I
would make sure that you would suffer, physically, mentally and
emotionally. I thought about throwing a party too. You of course would be
the serving maid since you do it so very well Beth.
I would have invited some of my friends, old and new, and even some of
yours too Beth. Let them see how really pathetic you turned out. The great
businesswoman Beth Jenson in her role as a lowly serving wench. Mmmm, I get
goose bumps just thinking about it!
It would be fun watching you being groped by the guys and made fun of by
the women. I even had thoughts of turning you into my very own pet pooch
called Sparkle. I would teach you to do tricks like beg, roll over, play
dead and fetch. To have you eat and drink from a doggie bowl and then force
you to squat outside in my yard and defecate just like a real little
doggie. Then while I read a good book by the fire you would be curled up
around my feet in silent teary eyed slumber.
The number of ideas I had to degrade you were racing through my mind one
after the other. I felt, finally, it was all just a matter of time before I
could have my full cup of revenge. But now, I am very disappointed. For I
can see that all my ideas to punish you will have gone for naught. The Beth
I knew, the one I wanted to hurt so badly, is no longer there. All the
while I mocked you, humiliated you, did things to you that would enrage any
normal self-respecting person to a level bordering on physical violence,
you did nothing. You not only took it all in stride, but you relished it,
groveled in it, and almost orgasmed to it.
When I demanded that you look at me, I thought I could still see your soul
Beth. The soul of that feisty spirited Beth Jenson through the windows of
your eyes. But all I saw in them was emptiness. I have seen more passion,
more life, in the eyes of my niece's dog than I saw in yours Beth.
Back in the interrogation room I still saw Beth, and I enjoyed punishing
her to the max. But now, I do not see her any more. And all that willful
humiliation I have just put you through, I find void of satisfaction. It's
like chastising a poor dumb animal, there is no point to it. That is why I
am disappointed in you Beth, or "slave B" would be more appropriate. All my
delicious plans to make your life a living hell have fallen by the way
side. I have all the desire in the world to make Beth suffer, but I have
not the least bit of interest to hurt a dumb animal, even one as dumb and
well trained as you.
I am not a sadist. I do not inflict pain just to be sexually aroused by it.
I am simply a woman who was once treated very badly. And one who was lucky
enough to have the opportunity to revenge myself on the person who did it.
But now, she no longer exists. And my need for retribution is gone as well.
You may go slave B."
Beth remembered curtsying, turning and sauntering away from Christine. Part
of her was glad that Christine was going to leave her alone and cease to be
a threat to her. Another part of her still wanted revenge on Christine, for
all that she did to her, at the police station and here at the party. But a
large part of her wondered if Christine might be correct about her. For
even when she looked at herself in the mirror, her former self, Beth
Jenson, seemed almost completely dissolved away.
Her looks, her walk, her mannerisms, even the way she talked and thought
was all in line with being a lesbian bimbo slave girl and not the person
she once was. It was all beginning to feel so natural for her too, and that
scared her! Did fantasy transform itself into reality without her knowing
it? Was it too late for her to go back to being Beth Jenson? Would she even
want to?
Beth shook her head wildly NO against the wooden pole. No, that's not it,
it's just stress, that's all, just plain stress. Once this fictional
fabrication was over with, she will take some time off, relax, and plan for
the future, her future. The future of a corporate executive named Beth
Jenson in sunny California. She quickly repeated her mantra over and over
again in her head.
'I am Beth Jenson, an intelligent and free heterosexual woman. I am doing
this for a better life and this too will soon be over.'
'I am Beth Jenson, an intelligent and free heterosexual woman. I am doing
this for a better life and this too will soon be over.'
'I am Beth Jenson, an intelligent and free heterosexual woman. I am doing
this for a better life and this too will soon be over."
It was all just a matter of time for Beth, and that time was only a few
minutes away.
**************************************************************************
Part 12 - "The Fire--Bald, Bound and Bonded" Coming soon
