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LYNN’S TRAINING
Chapter Four
Having taken her shower, wrapped her hair into a tight bun, Lynn rushes, massaging an even coat of body oil across her damp, bare flesh. The thoughts of her upcoming session with the Dominatrix fill her mind as she can feel the stirring deep inside the pit of her stomach. Memories of her earlier training sessions leave her with mixed emotions of anticipation, and of a sense of trepidation. Arching her back, glancing down, reaching across her chest, she drips the oil over her thrust out breasts, melding, caressing the scented lotion into her firm, melon sized globes.
Hearing footsteps approaching from the hallway, she nervously realizes it’s time. Smoothing the palms of her hands a final time back and forth, quickly down across her glistening thighs, buttocks, she glances toward the door as it swings open
“Ready?” The Dom’s voice is quiet, but stern. “Assume your position.”
Quickly spreading her feet as she crosses her arms up behind her head, interlocking her fingers behind her neck while thrusting her swaying breasts outward, Lynn immediately obeys. Staring straight ahead after fleetingly glancing down toward the Dom’s hands, her heart skips a beat as she can’t help noticing a willowy bamboo rattan flexing in her grip. Intense memories of her initial training flash thru her mind from the painful thrashing of a similar crop.
Slowly circling, touching, stroking Lynn’s bare flesh with her free hand, the Dom remains silent, admiring the incredibly exotic body shimmering in front of her, bathed in body oil. Sliding the side of the rattan gently upward, across Lynn’s bare thigh, across her quivering abs, circling her bellybutton with the tip, she lets it glide down across the nub of her exposed clitoris. Gently tapping, once, twice, a third time, she watches Lynn’s stomach’s reflexive ripple with each tap while appreciating the seductive sound of her soft whimpers.
Biting her lip, softly moaning, Lynn continues to stare straight ahead. The queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach spreads with each touch as she feels the bamboo glide across her slickened flesh, its tip flicking across her clitoris.
“I told you your Master advised me of some of your indiscretions Lynn.” The Dom gently speaks as she playfully twirls her fingertips around Lynn’s bare nipple with her free hand. “I also told you he wants me to discipline you… But then, after that, you’re facing a couple modifications he wants done too! Understand?”
“Wha… What?” Lynn stutters, the Dom’s warning from the past evening resonating in her thoughts. “What modifications? Mistress??” She moans, still staring straight ahead, trying her best to remain motionless, yet feeling that escalating queasiness in the pit of her stomach.
“Don’t worry about that right now, it’ll come later.” The Dom answers. “Anyway, time for your discipline. Time to give these a workout!” She adds as she glides the flexing tip of the rattan up, around the quivering pair of symmetrical globes jaunting up off Lynn’s bare chest while firmly gripping the bud of the left nipple between her fingernail and thumbnail.
“Come, follow me.” Turning away, the Dom step’s into the hallway while tugging Lynn along by the nipple.
“Oomph!” The Dom hears Lynn’s whimper, the slightest of a moan, or groan as she turns, approaches the open double doors of the familiar parlor.
Trailing the Dom into the empty parlor, Lynn eyes the podium in the center of the room as she’s led painfully toward it. It’s the same podium, the same rope hanging down from above it, but this time with a wooden “V” shaped split bench centered across it.
“Up there, straddle that bench, spread those legs wide and keep these tits pushed out.” The Dom glances into Lynn’s eyes, up to the platform as she instructs with her familiar monotone voice as she gives a final pinch, tug before releasing the taut nipple.
Immediately obeying, breasts swaying, Lynn steps up onto the podium. Turning, facing forward with her hands still behind her neck, fingers firmly locked, she squats while trying to center herself. Sliding her legs out across the separated wooden slates fully exposes her buttocks between the opening of a foot or so of the flat surfaces. Pressing her heels against the bottoms of the matching wooden, vertical posts rising from the platform, she twists, squirms to align herself.
Her breasts quiver, thrusting further outward. Reflexively arching her torso forward while bowing her shoulders back, she stares straight ahead as her thighs stretch, spreading above the slates. Her butt cheeks compress between the wooden slats of the split bench, the folds of her puffy vulva fully exposed.
“Here, tie this across your eyes, dear, and then grab that rope above you with both hands.” The Dom instructs as she hands her a black silk scarf.
“Yes Mistress.” Lynn acknowledges, slowly reaching for the scarf while glancing up toward the gently swaying rope above her head.
Covering her eyes, quickly tying it behind here neck, she stretches, reaches upwards with her left arm, feels for the rope as it brushes across her hand. Finally grabbing it between her fingers, firmly gripping it, arching her back, she stretches her other arm upward, gripping the end of the rope with both hands.
“Hold that rope tightly Lynn, don’t let go.” The Dom instructs as she steps directly in front of the podium.
Slowly sliding the tip of the rattan across the outer curve of Lynn’s right breast, the Dom taps gently across the firm, symmetrical globe, watching the beading body oil trace across the quivering flesh.
“Well Lynn, last night you got a taste of being a Dominatrix, didn’t you?” The Dom softly asks while glancing downward, fascinated with Lynn’s spread eagled squat.
“Yes Mistress.” Lynn blurts, continuing to stare straight forward, into the blindfold, seeing just the faintest of light, the Dom’s hazy outline, through the dark material. Gripping the rope tighter, she feels the bamboo press across her breast. Squirming on the wooden slates, mentally preparing herself in her darkness, she waits, nervously anticipates the Dominatrix’s next move, waiting for the rattan to smack across her heaving breasts.
“Now it’s your turn to be a submissive again… Mine!” The Dom continues. “Aren’t you?” Continuing to softly tweak Lynn’s left nipple, she adds. “To do with as I please, right?”
“Yes Mistress.” Lynn arching, feeling her nipple tingling, immediately replies. “I’m… I’m your submissive! To do with as you please!”
“I might just want to punish these titties, leave some nice decorative welts across ‘em. But then again, we’ll see.” The Dom adds, still flicking her wrist.
Chest pounding, Lynn feels the tip of the rattan now thumping just a little harder across the swelling bud of her right nipple, then a little harder back to her left nipple, back to the right, back and forth, the taps becoming light smacks, her nipples stinging under the flicking bamboo. “Oohh!” The softest of moans escapes her slightly parted lips, the rope stretching in her tensing fingers as her chest bucks, breasts sway.
“What, slave?” “Did you say something?” The Dom scolds in a stern voice, yet a smile on her face, shielded from Lynn’s masked eyes.
Sliding the tip of the rattan into the hollow of Lynn’s breasts, she lets it slowly glide downward, across her sternum, leaving a glistening trail in the fresh coat of body oil. Sliding it past her defined ribcage, further downward, across her rippling abs, inverted bellybutton, letting the bowing tip poke inward, holding it steady, she again asks. “I asked you, what did you say, slave?”
Feeling just a smidgeon of relief her breasts weren’t flogged, her stomach trembles, her breasts quivering as she feels the tip of the crop sinking into her bellybutton, Lynn whines. “Nothing Mistress, I’m sorry, nothing!”
“Oh, I thought I heard something come from between those luscious lips.” The Dom admonishes as she continues dragging the rattan downward.
Her eyes reflexively squinting under the mask while twisting her head away, Lynn senses the bamboo sliding across her pubic mound; on down between the puffy folds of her spread labia. Reflexively jerking, again the memories of her past discipline sessions resonate through her mind as her hardening clit’s brushed over and pressed back into her moist slit by the stiff tip of the flexing rattan.
The Dom’s amused, continues the slow, gentle manipulation with the tip as she relishes the moment, reliving the fresh memories of Lynn’s previous training, her discipline sessions from just a few weeks ago. She intently watches Lynn’s naked body quivering, glistening as it spreads out in front of her, her areolas, nipples, stiff, shriveling on her melon sized breasts.
Glancing downward, leaning, the Dom reaches out, flicks a fingertip across the rim of Lynn’s anus, tweaking the tender flesh separating the two puckering holes between the quivering butt cheeks. Hesitating for a brief moment, she spreads the puffy labia folds apart, gently slides the tip of the rattan against the protruding clitoris, wiggling it into the moist, spread slit. Letting the curling bamboo press against the swelling nub, she softly strokes it in a little deeper, sliding it back out, then in again. With each careful thrust, she glances up, pats Jodi’s quivering globes, tweaks the nipples, watches them reflexively jiggle.
“Oomph… Ahhh… Oohhh!” Each flick, each deeper stroke, combined with the manipulation of her nipples, bring rasping moans, groans as Lynn’s sensitive clit twitches between the bamboo and the apex of her quivering slit.
Biting her lip, she locks her fingers tighter around the rope, arches her shoulders further back while shoving her breasts forward, toward the Dom’s fleeting fingers. She finds herself willingly transforming into her submissive role as she feels the tenseness of her naked body surrendering to quivering anticipation. Her moist vagina, being massaged by the rattan, reflexively quivers as she awaits the sting that’s certainly forthcoming. Simultaneously, her manipulated, hardening nipples send shivers through her chest.
Slipping the rattan out from between Lynn’s twitching thighs, noticing the glistening fluid on its tip; she flicks it upwards across the scarf, calmly orders. “Suck it dry.”
Feeling the bamboo brush across her cheek, across her nose, Lynn parts her lips letting the tip of the glistening bamboo slide into her quivering mouth, press across her tongue. Sucking, licking, she tastes herself as she slowly slides her mouth forward, the Dom shoving, retrieving the willowy bamboo in rhythm, several strokes, back and forth.
Satisfied, the Dom snaps the rattan back and forth, steps behind the podium, the split bench. Glancing toward the taut rounded mounds of Lynn’s buttocks pressing thru the split bench, placing her free hand across the small of Jodi’s back, aiming at the quivering butt cheeks, the Dom whispers. “Better hang on tight to that rope, girl!” Lightly flicking, lightly tapping. “Smack! Smack!” Pink stripes barely appear horizontally across the tanned flesh, inches below the small of her back. Hesitating a moment, another two flicks, harsher, an inch or so lower, creases into each cheek. “Thwack! Thwack!”
“Oomph!” Lynn flinches. “Oomph!” Gripping firmly on the twisting rope, her breasts bouncing, swaying, her glistening back arches.
Glancing up, the Dom catches a view of the outside rounded curves of Lynn’s symmetrical breasts from behind, jiggling, swaying apart. Smiling, she admonishes. “Hush! Or you’re get one across your cunt! Hear me”
A pair of red welts instantly rising across the twitching mounds of her butt cheeks, twisting her fingers tightly in the rope, tears well in Lynn's covered eyes as she mutters. “Yes Mistress! Yes!”
Running a fingernail firmly across the fresh welts, still lightly tapping the tip of the rattan across the right mound, she feels Lynn’s body quivering as the rattan flicks back, snaps horizontally across the very center of Jodi’s rounded butt cheek. “Thwack!”
“Agghhhh!” Jerking, twisting, Lynn’s thighs squirm across the wooden slates as she twists at the rope, shaking her head back and forth.
The stinging pain sears through her twitching butt cheeks as she bites her lip, squints her welling eyes. The thin bamboo whistling, flexing, burying itself into her soft flesh leaves a purplish welt, again a couple inches below the previous lashings.
“Thwack! Thwack!” A quick backhand, forehand flick another couple inches lower, flattening into both butt cheeks, instantly raising two more chrisom welts.
“Aaaggghhhhh!” Another painful screech as Lynn’s hips jerk up off the slats as she bucks, twists, the rope digging into her tensed fingers, the palms of her tightly gripped fists. “Ohh God! God!” The pain stings, burns, sears across her backside.
Lowering the rattan, the Dom slides the palm of her free hand gently across the rounded mounds, feels the warmth of the raised welts glistening under the beads of perspiration shimmering across the bare flesh. Enjoying the workout, the Dom slowly steps around the podium, watching Jodi’s naked body quivering, her breasts heaving, glistening as her head hangs forward with her chin just above her sternum. Lifting the tip of the rattan up and under Lynn’s right breast, she gently raises, lowers it, manipulating the firm glistening globe.
“Look at me!” The Dom directs, holding the rattan firm, slipping the scarf down from Lynn’s eyes, watching as she slowly raises her face.
Tears drip off Lynn’s cheeks as she leans forward, swaying back and forth while tugging nervously on the rope, her backside stinging, burning as she stares pathetically toward the Dom.
“I would love to give these titties a good workout too, but we don’t want them marred before we do the modifications your Master requested, do we?” The Dom continues as she drops the rattan on the podium, cups both breasts in the palms of her hands, melds, caresses the globes as she speaks.
Eyes widening while slowly shaking her head back and forth, Lynn cringes as her breasts are manipulated, the pit of her stomach queasy as she feels her heart racing, wondering what those dreaded modifications are going to be. “Oh, no Mistress, no!” She answers, pleading at the same time.
“Well then, your punishment session’s over, at least for now. Let’s rub some lotion across those pretty welts.” The Dom responds while slowly sliding her fingers down across Lynn’s glistening flesh, coming to rest between her spread thighs. “If you’re good I’ll let you in on your Master’s instructions, and we might even put it off until tomorrow.”
End Part Four
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