Discovery · Part 1

Discovery · Part 1 (1/2)
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Part 1: A Ritual Cleansing “Ah, coming around, are you dear?” a honeyed voice cooed. I almost thought I knew the voice, but couldn’t quite place it. “Yes, I know it’s not very comfortable for you,” she continued sympathetically, “but that’s part of the scene isn’t it?”

Scene? What was that supposed mean? I continued to feign unconscious while I tried to take stock of my situation. From the motion, the uncomfortable hump beneath me and the woman’s voice above, I was fairly certain I was on the backseat floorboard of a car. I thought it must be a very nice car, since the road noise was almost imperceptible and there was a fair amount of floor space. There was a thick ball of fabric in my mouth with the ends tied securely behind my head, and my hands seemed to be bound behind my back with a soft rope. I waited for the car to hit a bump and used the sudden lurch to disguise my attempt at pulling my hands free. The rope held firm and a sudden strain on my ankles told me I was in a hogtied position.

There was a weight on my hips, and I tried to peek beneath my lashes to see what it was. I was facing the rear seat, and a pair of shiny black stiletto boots rested casually atop me. My gaze couldn’t help but follow the long legs up to a trench-coated figure and a pair of sensuous red lips curved in a wicked smile.

“Now dear, don’t play coy, I know you’re awake. Wouldn’t you like to know what’s going on?” She invited in a teasing tone. I opened my eyes and glared at the woman, with a shrug of my shoulders toward the gag. I could make noise around it, and perhaps she might distinguish one word in three, but I wasn’t about to debase myself for her pleasure as she obviously wanted me to. “Come now,” She goaded, “play along for me. Ask me why.” I bit down on the gag and sharpened my glare. Her heel moved incrementally so the stiletto rested on the soft spot just inside my hip, and one eyebrow arched in a graceful question. A moment later, there was a burst of pain in my side as she dug in the point. She gradually pushed harder and deeper until I was forced to gasp out “why, please, why?” It came out fully unintelligible, a pathetic plea. Choose your battles, I told myself.

“Why I’m glad you asked!” She purred happily, as the stiletto returned to its cross legged position atop my hip. “I’ve been watching you for some time now, you know, watching you go to bars and munches and play-parties, pretending at being a Dom.” Now it was my turn to arch a brow at her. Clearly she hadn’t been watching closely enough: there was no pretending where my proclivities were concerned. I might not be the biggest or the baddest Mistress, and I played with mostly gentle toys, but I knew well how to get into a sub’s head, and several sought me out for that very reason.

“Oh yes, you know how to play the game,” She laughed derisively, “and you’re certainly cruel.” Cruel? I couldn’t think of how- none of my games were particularly mean spirited, and I was friends with many of my former playmates, several of whom would be happy to resume relations should I be so inclined. How could I be cruel? My confusion must have shown. “Yes cruel. You play your teasing games, get their heads and their hearts all twisted up, and the moment they give themselves up to you, you toss them away like trash. And you don’t even have the decency to cut ties- you string them along with crumbs of affection, and the poor things eat it up like the starving pups they are.” Her voice dripped with so much disgust I couldn’t help but blush. I shook my head. It wasn’t like that, they were flings, friends with benefits at best. They knew that going in, and we were all adults.

“No no, you’re not capable of seeing that, are you?” She mocked. Then she shook her head as if to dispel her own disdain, the sympathy returning to her voice. “You aren’t capable of understanding what you do, because you’ve so deeply subjugated what you are and what you need. That’s why I’m here, you know: I see all the misguided potential in you, and I’m going to bring the real you out into light.” The last was said with such earnest sincerity that it struck fear deep within like nothing else had, though I couldn’t quite understand why. My fear was so strong it made it hard to breathe, making me dizzy and disoriented. As my head spun, the reason for my panic was shaken to the surface: this woman wasn’t just out for a laugh, or seeking some sort of apology or bribe. She was a demented fanatic on a crusade, and she would be satisfied with nothing short of her goal, whatever that might be.

“Deep breaths through the nose, dear,” she advised. A bottle of champagne had materialized and she was carefully pouring a glass. My gaze followed the bubbly trickle flowing into the glass, still trying to come to grips with my situation. The wicked smile returned to her lips, “Don’t worry dear, Vinnie will have us home soon, and you’ll get a welcome glass too.” She raised her glass to me and sipped as she turned her gaze out the window of the limo.

Finally coming out of my shock, I began to struggle in earnest. She glanced down and gave me a slight kick with a gentle warning, “Behave.” I struggled all the harder, but between the hogtie and the limited space all it did was make me an uncomfortable footstool for her. She shrugged, ”Have it your way.” She held a sickly sweet smelling handkerchief to my face, and I fell into insensible darkness.

I awoke laying on my stomach on a padded table, like one you might find in a spa. My face lay framed by the padded hole of a donut shaped headrest, and I found myself looking at the floor. There was a small dish filled with water and floating lilies, the scent of eucalyptus and lemongrass drifting up. Relief suffused my limbs as realization dawned: this was the first day of my vacation. I must have drifted to sleep during my massage, the scents and the masseuse’s hands combining to give me strange dreams. I moved to push myself upright, but my hands remained fixed by my side, and my head was firmly strapped to the donut pillow.

I drew in my breath to shout for help went the honeyed voice murmured in my ear, “Welcome back, and welcome Home.” A pair of slippered feet came into view, and I felt soft hands on my back. “You’ll note the gag is gone- you’re welcome to scream for help, though of course no one will hear you…”

I was sorely tempted to do just that, but common sense told me it would be a waste of energy. “What do you want? What are you doing?” I demanded in voice that quavered only a little. She answered gently, as though explaining to a simpleton, “I want to help You become you. It will take time to deconstruct this shell you’ve built, but only when you are what you were meant to be can you be truly happy.” I shuddered as she grazed her nails across my back. She continued, “as for what I’m going to do to you, we’ll be starting with a ritual cleansing. You know, purification and new beginnings and all that.”

As she spoke, I heard the opening of a door and soft footsteps. “Please!” I called urgently, “please help me! I’m here against my will, please get me off this table! Hurry! Now, please!” Tears stung my eyes as I heard my captor’s laugh, “Ah good, finally some begging- I was getting worried you might be a bit slow, or had lost your wits, but it seems I just underestimated you.” She was worried about my sanity? It was almost laughable. I struggled against the table and called to the unseen person again. “Hush now, that’s enough. Nora’s one of mine. Or Vinnie’s, technically,” she amended.

“Nora could never say so, but she always had an eye for Vinnie, you know, so I gave her to him on his employment anniversary as a reward for both their faithful service. They get on quite well, and I’m sure Nora would tell you how much you’ll enjoy it here, if she could. Wouldn’t you Nora?” A garbled affirmative came from behind me, and a tear rolled down my cheek.

She patted me on the head. “That’s right dear. Now Nora, we’ll have the mint salt scrub with a ginger spritz, if needed, followed by an hour in the steam room to release those nasty impurities. And don’t be too gentle- tears cleanse the soul, you know.” This last was said to both of us before she padded out of the room, the door closing quietly behind her. I waited a moment, closing my eyes and listening carefully to be sure it was truly only me and Nora still in the room. Nora seemed to be mixing something, and by the time she was done I was reasonably certain it was just the two of us.

“Listen Nora, please, you have to help me. Untie me and we can both get out of here.” She said nothing, but proceeded to scoop a bit of her mixture, presumably a salt scrub, onto my back. The scrub was cool, but her warm hands gently massaged the scrub into a uniform coating across my back. If I wasn’t tied down and terrified, it would have been pleasant. “Listen, I know you only agreed to all that stuff earlier because that evil bitch was in the roo-“ A hard slap to my ass cut me off and Nora’s hands grabbed the back of my neck hard, grinding the scrub in painfully as she leaned into my ear and enunciated around her gag “No!” The pain made me gasp.

I whispered to her, “Can she still hear us? Look, I know you’re scared, but we can do this together.” I could feel her trembling slightly and took heart, “look, all you have to do is keep scrubbing, and just loosen up the restraints as you go. I’ll get free and take you as my ‘hostage’ and we’ll get out of here. That way if anything happens and we get caught you can say it was all me. We can do this!” Her trembling deepened; it was a moment before I recognized the soft, panting snorts as laughter, and felt the first stirrings of despair. It quickly gave way to anger, and I cursed her violently, “You stupid fucking cow! Let me go, you bitch! You and your fucking mistress can go straight to hell!”

I shook and I thrashed, struggling against my restraints to no avail as she scrubbed me hard, grinding the salt against my skin at every curse word and slur against her mistress. As the adrenaline of my first fury wore off, I realized that the mint oil in the scrub, which had started as such a pleasant cool tingle, was beginning to sting my raw skin. I left off my cursing, but it was too late; I’d roused Nora’s ire and now she punished me with rough ablutions. Soon I would have sworn there were a hundred, thousand cuts on my back and arms and legs, every one of which now seemed to be on fire. It wasn’t long before I’d begun crying in earnest and begging for mercy. “Please, I’m sorry, you’re not a bitch, She’s not a bitch, I’m sorry, I take it all back!”

Finally Nora relented; she brought a pitcher of cool water and poured it slowly across my back and arms and legs until all the salt and oil was gone. I watched the water disappear into drain tiles below the table as she gently toweled me off. She spritzed another light oil across my back and limbs; it stung a little before spreading a pleasant warmth. Ginger is both an antiseptic and an analgesic, the part of my mind that loved trivia informed me. I was so exhausted that I hardly noticed Nora moving around the table, clipping and adjusting various straps, until she came and unfastened my head strap. For the briefest moment, I thought she might let me go, but I was quickly disillusioned.

She had carefully attached a second strap from each my left leg and left arm to the right side of the table, and vice versa for my right arm and right leg. The tie downs all along both sides of the table were actually winches that somehow tied into the levers she was now adjusting: as she winched loose the original straps that held me face down, the new straps tightened in equal measure, slowly rolling me over until I was back in my original position, only face up. She gave the levers one final tightening before returning to draw the head strap snugly across my forehead. I gave a token struggle, but I was tiring, and the motion made my back sting again.

I watched Nora as she removed the original straps, now gone slack and useless, and I wondered if I beheld my own fate. What I could see of her was lovely: long brunette hair curling down from a tight, high pony tail to drape across a loose masseuses’ top with matching pants in the Thai style. When the light was right, her slender figure and ample breasts were outlined through the thin material. Though her attire suggested comfort, she held herself so stiff and upright that I suspected a tight corset must be hidden underneath. She wore slippers now, but still walked on her toes as though unused to being in flat footed shoes.

And of course, there was the gag. It was a muzzle gag of sorts, perfectly formed to cover her whole jaw from the ear forward, rising up over her mouth to just under her nose. A strap ran up from just behind the right eye, over the top of the head, and connected again to the muzzle just behind the left eye, anchored by one strap around her forehead and one running behind the neck at the jaw. There was a removable insert at the mouth, and I was willing to bet the current insert was phallic shaped.

I considered renewing my struggles, but discarded the notion as Nora picked up the scrub bowl again. She looked at me and cocked her head in a silent question; the idea of the harsh treatment my back had received being applied to my sensitive front filled me with terror. “No, please, don’t,” I whispered. She gave an affirmative nod and pushed one finger to my lips in warning. I silently nodded, tears beginning to trickle. She didn’t scrub with the ferocity she’d used on my back, but my breasts and stomach were still bright red and I was still crying and pleading by the time she was done. I welcomed the cool water and the ginger spritz, but I wasn’t given long to enjoy it.

It was almost a relief when Nora adjusted the table into an upright, chair-like position and simply rolled me into the steam room. I was so sore and tired from my struggles that I wasn’t sure I would have had the strength to attempt an escape if the oppor

Discovery · Part 1 (1/2)
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