FAWC 1: My Lady

"You think everyone in the world is a Sub?" I ask confused.

"Of course."

"I'm not a Sub," I say with as much confidence as I'm managed tonight.

"Yes you are!" Her tone is amused. "When you work any job for 'pay' your Boss is the Dom. He uses reward, be it praise or monetary, to get you to behave. When that fails he will use threat of termination to make you do more. Sometimes more than you ever thought you would agree to do. We are a society of Subs and Doms, John Perl."

"Why do you keep calling me by my full name?" I ask not at all liking the images of all the things that former bosses have made me do when it comes washing though my thoughts.

Clare smiles. Maybe the first truly full smile I've see from her tonight.

"I like the sound of it."

"Should I call you Clare...or is your title Mistress?" I ask then instantly regret the question.

"I've been called worse." Her tone goes suddenly cold. "My Dom title is My Lady, but only my Subs may call me that."

I nod.

"I understand..." I start to say.

"NO, you do not. You're simply agreeing without thought. Do you know why I only allow my Subs to use that title? It's a Key."

"A Key?" I ask.

"Yes. To the dark part of me." her eyes have taken on that icy steel look again. "We all have one. That dark part to our souls that makes us question whether we are good or evil. Most people hide it away in a shadowy corner of their minds. They fear it, fear it might get lose and be dangerous to someone that they care about. Hurt someone...even a stranger."

She slides forward and her legs swing out from under her. Her face has taken on a almost harsh look around her eyes.

"Sounds a bit like a vicious dog doesn't it? It's a lot like that in fact. Now being a Dom...is learning how to train that dog till it's safe off the leash. Safe around little kids even."

I hear the door open behind me. When I turn to look I see a woman in a blue to nearly black business suit come in. She looks at me for a half second then smiles at Clare.

"Good evening Tonya. When you're ready see to dinner." Clare gestures towards a closed door.

"Yes my Lady."

Her voice is soft, respectful. It carries with it though the tone of a person use to talking...well I guess down too others... might be a way of putting it. I watch the woman walk to the door and vanish into the room it conceals. I catch a half look at dark paneled walls and a large bed.

When I look back Clare's eyes are much closer and they are hard.

"Even with a tame dog," her eyes bore into me. "It isn't safe to mess with it's food."

Swallowing I sit back in my chair as far as I can.

I see a slow grin touch her lips.

"I'm playing with you John Perl." She sits back. "There is nothing in this house you can't look at to your hearts content. A least for tonight's scene."

"Scene?" I ask.

"Yes. That's what a lot of us call it when we play. A scene...like in a movie. It has a beginning, a middle, then an end." She glances towards the door. "Some like to play 24/7 but I don't."

"Why not?" I ask then turn my head when I hear the door open. My yaw drops as Tonya walks back out wearing just a collar. I can see the marks her clothes have left in her bare skin. Imprint lines from bra and panties, mare the otherwise perfection of smooth skin.

At a finger snap I look quickly back to Clare. She grins at the look on my face.

"Bills have to be payed, jobs have to be gone to. You can't spend all day naked and tied to a bed, John Perl." Clare gets to her feet. "Come, join me in the dining room while Tonya fixes our dinner."

The patchy eyed cat leads the way, but I have a hard time keeping my eyes off Tonya as she crosses the room to stand ,head down, in front of Clare. Fran Drescher's stunt double looks over her Sub for a second then nods. I watch the beautiful curves of the nude woman's ass as Tonya walks out the room and I guess into the kitchen.

As she pulls out her chair Clare gives me a look that speaks volumes. She knows the affect that her Sub just had on me. There is a tolerant lack of interest from her.

"What next?" she ask then. "Most people want to know about the pain, the whips and such."

"Yea. Um... why all that? Why not just have normal sex?"

"Define normal?" Her nails tap the top of the table. The lace doilies not making the sound any less than a pistol crack. "Man and a woman in bed? Missionary position? Maybe some light oral on her part to get him hard for the big night of pleasure?"

I reluctantly nod.

"Pain has uses. It's like Alcohol, it removes inhibitions. Some use it to gain tighter control. To me that's always felt a bit crude. After all if you need a whip and a chair your not with a Sub but with a... circus act." Her eyes go to the vase of cut roses in the center of the table. She moves it to the side a bit so we're not talking so much around it. "Pain is for correcting bad behavior. The worse the behavior the worse the pain needed to remind the Sub not to do something. At least that's the general theory that I hear so often spoken."

"But doesn't it hurt? I mean not the Sub I know it hurts her..I mean the Dom? To have to inflict...what amounts to torture on someone that's...well kind of a friend. I guess you would have to see your Sub as a friend?"

"Not always." Clare takes a deep breath. "What do parents tell their child just before they spank them? This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you."

I nod.

"It's a similar feeling," she says.

I sit silent thinking about that. I can hear pans being moved around and refrigerator doors being opened in the kitchen. That a woman is in there naked still has me half hard just thinking about it.

"So a Sub is like a child to you?"

Clare grimaces.

"I don't like that analogy but I guess I made you think of it with what I said. No and yes. They are like a child in only that they have to be watched for bad behavior and they need to be corrected when it occurs. BUT....!"

I sit up a bit startled by her tone.

"Make no mistake. No Dom wants a Child! That destruction of innocence is left to the pedophilia freaks. It has no place in the 'Lifestyle'." She glances toward the painting on the wall. "We get enough bad press."

Following her gaze I see that this painting, like the one in the living room, has to do with BDSM. The beautiful quality of the art work seems strange given the subject matter. The woman, clearly oriental, is intricately tied up.

"That's by Yoji Muku. He was Japaneses artist. I got him to sign that for me just weeks before he died." Looking back at her I see those eyes are again unfocused. "His gallery opening were always controversial here in the U.S."

When Tonya walks out the kitchen a carrying a tray my eyes go to her. Naked woman or picture of naked woman? Not a lot of decision there.

As I watch she serves first Clare, then with her eyes down cast myself. When the glasses have been filled she kneels down by her Dom's side, her knees on the hardwood floor.

Paying her Sub no mind Clare unfold a napkin then take a sip of the wine. When she slowly chews a bite of her dinner she turns and gives a little nod.

Tonya bows her head.

"Thank you, my Lady."

As I watch she get to her feet and hurries back into the room she first went into.

"Uh-hum!" Comes the sound across the table. Looking back to Clare I see her smile.

"Questions. Remember?" She says with a grin.

"Ah... yea. Ah... safe words. I've heard that Subs use them to keep from being really hurt. I want to know if all people in the BDSM community use them?" I lift a fork full of what's in front of me then look down as the wonderful flavors flood my mouth. I have to take a sip of wine as a bit of heat touches my tongue. "This is delicious!"

"Yes. She's a good cook. Curried Chicken is one of my favorites that she makes." She slowly chew a second bite to nothing before answering. "Safe words huh?"

She places her fork next to her plate. Then sighs.

"There are many in the Community that would call me out for this. I don't believe in them. If a Dom is being that unobservant to their Sub, then they probably need some more time as a Sub themselves. You do not hurt your Sub!" she waves off the words I'm about to say. "I'm not talking pain, I mean physical injury. Agony to the point the human body can not enjoy it."

"Enjoy the pain?" I ask.

She grins.

"Ever had a toothache? Couldn't stop touching it with your tongue could you?'"She smiles at the look on my face. "How about when you go to a gym? You hurt when you first get started then the pain fades and it feels good. Then when you're done it really hurts....but you go back for more. Yes?"

I nod accepting what she's saying.

"Why?" she asks smiling.

I sigh.

"Because I enjoy a good work out," I answer.

"Exactly."

Looking up I see Tonya walk back out. She is dressed as she was when she got here. The dark business suit looks far to conservative given that I know what color her nipples are.

Clare gets up and walks to her.

"My guest says your cooking is delicious. Thank you."

With a smile and a nod Tonya steps into the hug that Clare offers. When she goes out the door Clare sits back down and starts to eat. After a moment I have to ask.

"Where did she go?" I do a couple of directing glances between Clare and the front door. "Was that it?"

"She went home."

"But .. but you didn't do anything," I protest.

"Yes we did. I know you saw her, your eyes hardly left her."

"Yea she got naked but... you didn't... punish her!" I gesture towards the painting. "Tie her up or anything like that!"

"Why should I have? She did every thing perfectly. You're enjoying your dinner are you not? Wasn't everything delicious? Did she burn anything...undercooked it? No. If you went into the kitchen you would find it to be sparklingly clean. She didn't even hesitate to get undressed with you here, a total stranger. She was the model Sub. Why should I punish her?"

A dozen thoughts conflict for a second. I toss most of them out and go for the most obvious.

"For the fun and sexual pleasure of it." I gesture again to the wall painting.

Clare shakes her head.

"She wasn't in the mood for that." With a grin flirting about her lips she sits back in her chair. Her eyes are traveling about my face taking in far more of the inner thoughts behind my eyes than I would normally tell. The frank evaluation of it angers me a bit.

"How could you tell?" I demand.

The grin becomes a true smile.

"Because she didn't burn your dinner."

* * * *

Over the next two week I find myself having to do a complete revaluation of what I think of as BDSM. Images of floggings and women tied to posts fall away to a more sophisticated understand of Power and Dominance. That a single lifted eyebrow, a word given with just an ounce more tone can be as shocking as a whip.

Clare has me coming over to her place to talk and observe...frequently. Odd calls at even odder hours have me hurrying over there to watch and try to learn. The interplay between her and her Sub at times can get far more intensive than what I saw that first night. They always seem to walk a thin line to my eyes. Like Tonya is a perfectly trained creature but with that hidden urge to run at any second. Images of wild mustangs and great cats pepper my thoughts while watching her...and of course I do watch her.

She naked more often than not.

Clare handles her 'wildness' with the skills of a falconer.

I slowly come to understand that with that skilled touch Clare allows Tonya to fill her need to be subservient.

Talking with Clare, either when Tonya is not there or with her there but ignored, I learn about her Sub. Tonya is a rather respected business woman. Runs a SBA loan company that handles large loans to first time business owners. During the day she manages people from every tier of social power. Constantly stressed from telling others how to do and what to do had driven her to a ragged edge. Then she met Clare.

Coming here several times a week. Cooking dinner, cleaning house, allowing herself to be all but a plaything to the whims of her Dom. It had given her a relief valve on life.

"Being a Sub was cheaper than her therapist." Clare tells me with a soft smile one night at dinner. When I had looked up to the naked woman filling my glass her eyes had dropped quickly to the floor. Then she had half glanced up at me....and winked.

Clare made her go kneel in the corner for doing it.

Though Tonya never once spoke to me I came to know her, if anything, more than I did Clare. In her I found maybe some part of myself. A need for...well I don't know what.

Then, either she got comfortable with me being there or simply horny, I see her do something with all the deliberate planning of a military campaign. She sits a glass down just on the edge of a lace doilies. As she moves away it totters then tips.

Her eyes follow it all the way to the floor. So do Clare's.

The glass has the luck to strike the thick carpet under the table and not the hardwood that surrounds it. Still the wine, like thinned blood, splatters the floor in a fan like spray.

"Excuse me for a moment, John Perl." The tone change in Clare's voice is awesome to hear. I get shivers run across the back of my neck.

Rising with a gracefulness like a hunting cat Clare stands. Almost like synchronized swimmers as she rises Tonya sinks.

"That was careless. You could have broken my glass. What have you to say for yourself?" Clare demands.

"My apologies my Lady. It was an accident," she says from her knees at Clare's feet. Though not the first time I've heard Tonya speak her words carry a undertone I've not heard. Trembling. I take it at first to be fear then I see her eyes...her face.

Lust, not fear makes her words shake.

"There are no accidents. Come." Clare hooks a finger in Tonya's collar As she starts to lead her towards the bedroom door she glances over her shoulder at me "You as well John Perl."

With a rise in both my heart rate and in my pants I scramble to my feet and follow. I stop at the doorway though. Unsure if I'm truly welcome past it...or if I wish to be welcomed.

Tonya follows with her total posture changed. Less a tamed animal now she resembles one cringing. As I watch, with a noticeable bulge starting in my pants, Clare moves her to the end of the bed. A simple push and the Sub is face down over the end rail. I see her hands grips the coverlet as Clare runs her fingernails across the curve of her ass.

My eyes follow those fingers get stuck as I see the parted lips of Tonya's pussy. Clare's foot moves viper quick and Tonya's ankle is struck. The Sub quickly spreads her legs open even further. The lips part to reveal this woman, nearly a stranger, to my gaze. I feel a rising pant for air in my chest and a nervous stirring my belly as I see Clare walk away from her to a large wooden hutch. When it opens I suck in a deep gasp. She turns at the sound her eyes going to mine.

"Is this more like what you had in mind?" she asks.

I give a slow nod.

The inside of the cabinet is full of brass hooks and hanging from them are every variety of whip, shackle, and device. Some of them so very strange that I have no idea of their purpose. As I watch she takes out two. A long bar with two hooks on it and a pair of leather cuffs. Too large for wrists I quickly pick up that they are for ankles.

As I watch Clare works with movements that show a great deal of practice. She has the cuffs attached and then the bar between them in a few simple seconds. She then hooks the bar to the bed frame.

That task done she walks to the head of the bed and picks up a set of fur lined manacle that are hanging decoratively on a hook below yet another erotic piece of art work. Unlike the ones in the rest of the house I have seen this one is positively pornographic in it's details.

Tonya gives a few whimpering struggles as Clare hooks her hands behind her back. A harsh command though, given in that chilly tone, stills them just as quickly as they started.

As I watch Clare reached under her pillows I know my eyebrows rise when I see a metal hook attached to a cable appear in her hand.

When the middle ring, I hadn't noticed till then, is attached to this she puts a foot under the bed and I hear a electric motor wine.

As I watch Tonya is pulled up onto the bed more till her feet are almost off the floor. Only her toes touch. When the tension looks like it has to be growing horribly painful Clare stops. I feel a sudden sympathy for the girl. The Sub. All she did is drop a glass and here she is stretched out on an almost rack. Her shoulder joints have to be burning. Her most secret parts completely open to the view of a near total stranger.

That she planned it comes back to me then. She had to have known that Clare...her Lady...would do something like this to her.

Clare looks over to me, her fingernails drifting across taunt skin. Little red marks appear as she passes out of tanned flesh and onto paler skin.

"A Dom must be in total control. Of themselves. At all times." Her eyes drop to the bulge in my pants, then come back up to spear me. "No matter how excited they become they must never allow it to grow beyond their discipline. A Dom has the power to inflict terrible harm to their Sub. It would take only a few second more and the winch under the bed could dislocate her shoulders."

I see her hand come from by her side. A riding crop that till this second had been hidden by her thigh comes up to point at me with all the terror inspiring power of a nun's ruler.

"And yet for all that you can not have too gentle a hand," she says with a soft purr.

Crack!

Tonya is struck but I swear I feel it! The Sub gives a whimper but then when a lighter pop lands lightning quick...stifles it.

"YOU must measure need to Discipline with need to Pleasure. They are equal but you can not let your Sub control which she receives," says Clare.

Crack!

I watch Tonya squirm herself against the hardwood rail on the end of the bed. Grinding her pubic hair into the glossy wood.

Clare's voice calls my eyes back to her.

"The Dom has an obligation to their Sub to train them right. Lack of proper Discipline can make a Sub willful. Can make them to where they misbehave simply to receive that gift of pleasure, despite the pain." Clare lays a hand on Tonya's back then lets her fingers brush across the two rising red whelps. Her fingers dip between the cheeks of her ass and then slip between the Sub's shiny neither lips. When Clare removes them her fingers are slimy wet.

Hard to the point of pain, I watch Clare bring her fingers to her mouth and suck them clean like a person eating chicken would. She glances over at me then walks with a determined stride to stand in front of me. Her hand catches my chin forcing my eyes to her face.

"Are you paying attention to me or to the open cunt before your eyes, John Perl?" she asks.

With the smell of sex filling my nose I stare into those steel gray eyes. After a half second I answer.

"To you," I stumble out the words, they trip over both my tongue and teeth.

"That's good. There will be a quiz after class." As she moves her hand she lets her finger brush my lips. I feel the slick wetness even before my tongue comes out to taste.

As my mouth is suddenly awash with that hint of a woman's lust I have an almost over powering desire to cross the room and bury my face between Tonya's wet lips. To drive my tongue as deep into this woman as I can and devour as much of this flavor that now fills my mouth, as I can. I know my breath is coming in a pant as I watch Clare return to her Sub.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The blows continue to land across that beautifully upturned ass till Tonya moans.

Then Clare punishes her for that.