'I can't possibly whip you again. You're still terribly marked. They're lovely'
'You do things for me and let me tell you what to do. You shouldn't, y'know. Right now, with my former Mistress, I'd be sentenced to a hundred lashes, or maybe tied to a post for a week.'
'What on Earth for?'
'That's the point, darling, you don't know. When I'm bad you don't know I'm bad.
You're in love with me.'
'What's wrong with that?'
'It gets in the way, Ilona. When it comes time to punish me you feel mean and unkind.'
'I've got you chained right now, sweetheart.'
'My wrist, yes. But you'd have forgotten if I hadn't reminded you.'
Ilona Paisley was too happy, too relaxed, to be anything but amused by the bright eyes and pouting lips so close to her own. She was besotted by this lovely girl with platinum hair, lost in the flood of her own pent up sexuality. 'Can't we love each other for a few days before I start being brutal to you, Susan?' She asked sleepily.
Susan's heart was easily touched. She was unsure of her own feelings towards this far too liberal Mistress. But the least she could feel was affection. Ilona was so lost, so visibly needing help. She looked down at the lovely nakedness with which she had been idly playing. It was lovely, and it was pussy heating. It was far more provocatively female than its owner realized. For a minute she lowered her lips again to the hard wet nipple before retorting: 'Of course we can love, darling. Loving her Mistress is the biggest part of a slavegirl's life. I could love you to pieces no matter how many whipmarks I wore or how heavy my chains.'
'Aren't we lucky.' Ilona's voice was dreamy with content.
Susan sighed. She had a feeling she was still grappling with Paisley Publications.
Determinedly, she straddled her Mistress's passive nakedness and lowered her wet sex upon an unresisting tummy. Leaning forward, she placed the top of her index finger on the tip of a somnolent nose. Her voice was firm. 'After our loving, Ilona, you absolutely must treat me as a slave. Will you?'
'Of course I will. Come and cuddle.'
'What I really mean is, can you?'
'Yes I can. Don't be tiresome, sweetheart. Lay beside me so I can get my hand into your fur.'
'Now I'm going to tell you of punishments. You must start using them on me in a couple of days. Don't tell me what I'm going to get, you just pick one?'
'You're so sweet. Mmmmm. . !'
'If you won't listen properly I'll cry or throw a tantrum.'
Ilona perked. 'I'd love to see you throw a tantrum.'
Susan pouted. 'You wouldn't like me a bit, Mistress. I become a nasty little girl who says the awfulest things and stamps her feet.'
'Please throw one now.'
'I'm not mad enough. Besides, you're too nice. Now, are you listening?'
'Shall I make a list?'
'Ilona, darling, take me seriously.'
'Oh alright. I'll flog you the first day, then you tell me.'
'Well. . ' Susan had lost steam. 'There's hanging me by my wrists, it's very effective. After an hour with my toes off the floor I become delightfully meek.'
'Mmmmm. .!'
'Then there's the pillory, my neck and wrists yoked. I'm always terribly grateful when the yoke gets lifted.'
'I think you're a masochist, but carry on.'
'There's a horse thing you can make me sit on, tied so I can't get off. It cuts a girl's crotch in two and makes her awfully easy to deal with.'
'I bet! But doesn't it ruin her pussy?'
Susan sighed again. 'Pussies are almost indestructible, Mistress. You'll be surprised. . Ilona, are you listening?'
Ilona giggled. 'We were putting your pussy on a painful perch.'
'I ought to put your's on one, you might wake up.'
Susan sniffed disdainfully. 'Anyway, there's also just tying me up. There's so many ways of doing it just a bit painfully so as the hours go slowly by. . ! I was tied tight, standing against the post, all night once. Gee, when I think of all the vows I made about behaving. . ! The rope marks in my skin made me look like an old time convict.'
'We must try that one, it sounds cute.'
Susan shifted enough to enable her to make a sudden savage bite at an unsuspecting nipple. Ilona yelped. 'That was to get your attention, Mistress.' The implacable slavegirl settled herself comfortably astride. 'The next lesson is to get you to understand all the things I have to be punished for.'
'If you say so, dear.'
'That remark's no help. D'you want me to go looking for another Mistress?'
'No!' The negative was a small explosion.
'Alright then! Look on me as a pretty plant that has to be nourished in unusual ways. Without discipline I die.'
'Oh, darling, so dramatic!'
'I have to keep you listening. Do you realize my former Mistress would have thrashed me three times already for the outrageous way I've been talking to you?'
'But I like it!'
'O.K. So when you're in the mood you give me permission to be bratty. Or, if I feel it coming on, I kneel and ask. You don't have to say yes.'
'I rather like that one. You now have my permission to play with both my nipples while we talk.'
Susan wrinkled her nose. 'There you go again. That should have been an order.'
Susan's hands became busy. 'There, instant obedience. Forgive my wrist chain rubbing you, I can't help it.'
Their eyes met, Susan's pout dissipated under a flood of affection. Soon, her tongue would once more seek its prey, her fingers tingled their vibrations into receptive breasts. Ilona smiled. The perfume of girl musk enveloped them.
Ilona removed her shoes. She was ashamed of peeking but was under a compulsion she could not control. She wished to see but not be seen. Within her mind was a turmoil with which she had become familiar, a small cyclone of emotions with Susan at its centre. . She tip-toed cautiously and peered around the punishment room door.
It was a picture so exquisite she was obliged to stifle a gasp. It was a picture she herself had created an hour ago. But, like most masterpieces, it had mellowed with age. Rebellious flesh and muscle had lost their tensions, the naked girl hung passively without motion, the tight straps upon her wrists sustaining her weight, her toes several inches above the floor. Al of Susan's femaleness had flowed in pain and fatigue to create a picture of resigned helplessness. Her head was bowed, her eyes closed.
Breathless, Ilona Paisley drank in the pure beauty of the nude who believed herself alone. Every detail would be forever etched upon her mind. The tension of suspension had ironed out nothing of Susan's loveliness. Her breasts were tautened but remained superb cones. Her Venus Mound was actually accentuated, as was the pubic triangle crowning its visible contour. Her bel y was flat beneath the delineated rib cage, her bottom impudent but motionless. High above, the straps bit deep round punished wrists, the hands limply open, fingers drooping in resignation. For' several minutes the Mistress watched her punished slavegirl, then silently returned from whence she came.
It had begun at breakfast. Pertly handcuffed, Susan was toying with toast and belabouring her favourite topic:
'Darling, you simply have to punish me.' As usual she was animatedly vehement.
'I was rude to you in the bathroom, I tore your bra' strap, and I made some rotten coffee. I've been a lousy
