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CHAPTER 5
Mistress Joanna kept the bongo beat going for I don’t know how long, but it must have been two or three hundred smacks on my bare butt. When she stopped I was heaving for breath and trying not to sob. She rubbed her hands across my ass cheeks and I felt her nails running up and down the crease of my labia. The first thing across my mind was that the color of her nail polish matched the maroon of her boots and belt. God, I thought, she’s digging her nails into my pussy crack and I’m thinking of the color. She pushed against my shoulders to slide my knees off the ottoman, leaving me bent over it on my belly with my feet sticking out behind me.
“Now, Meredith girl” she said, reaching down and pulling my head up but the hair, “up with you, and sit back on your knees, hands behind the head.”
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress,” I answered, shuffling back from the ottoman and assuming the position. She pulled the ottoman back toward her chair and sat down on it, cradling my chin in her hand. I looked up into her eyes and tried to see what was in them. They looked severe, but somehow not cold, but I couldn’t see any kindness in them either.
“Now that we’ve had a nice warm up, let’s have our first discipline, shall we?”
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress,” I said, blankly. The open palm slapping against my face rocked my head back, followed by another on my left cheek. Then she yanked a handful of my hair to hold me steady as she delivered three more with her right hand across my left cheek.
“You will ALWAYS THANK ME WITH REAL GRATITUDE, not mere rote replies, do you understand me?” she tossed my head back and stood up.
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress, please forgive me.”
“That’s your first black mark. All black marks will be tabulated and suitable treatment will be administered for them at the end of our sessions. More on that as we go along. Now, where was I?”
I wasn’t sure if I should reply when she continued in that way she had, of talking to me as though she didn’t need an answer, she would supply her own.
“Yes, we were approaching some true Christian Discipline, weren’t we?” she smiled at me.
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress,” I said trying my best to sound grateful.
“Hmm, that’s better, I suppose. You will work on that, I know.” She sat back down on the ottoman and gestured to her left thigh, pulling her skirt back. “All right, over my knee, hands on the floor. “
I moved over her leg as she pulled a metal backed hairbrush out of her skirt pocket.
“We will do this one with twenty, I think,” she said as she settled me over her and clamped my knees with her right leg. “You will count each one, thank me and ask for another most politely and genuinely, understood?”
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress,” I answered as the first blow hit. “One, thank you Mistress Joanna, May I please have another?”
They came in quick succession, as though the Mistress wanted this over as much as I did, though I thought that her hurry had more to do with what else she wanted to do next. I think I was right.
Twenty with that hairbrush were tough, but I got through it while only welling up with tears, not breaking down completely though I was close. She shoved me off her lap, grabbed two fistfuls of my hair and turned me to face her, still on my knees.
“Hands locked together, behind your back, bitch,” she almost snarled.
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress,” I answered, sounding as grateful as I could. Mistress Joanna replied by tilting my head back and spitting in my face, followed by thumping my lips and chin with a sharp command to “OPEN!”
I complied as she spat directly into my mouth, followed by another one squarely in my eyes.
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress,” I mumbled.
“For what?” she demanded.
“Thank you for the gift of your spit in my unworthy and untrained face, Mistress Joanna,” I answered. She smiled that predatory smile once again, gazing down at me.
“Good answer, girlie,” she chuckled a bit. “Very good answer. Now up on your feet.” She pulled me up, her hands still locked in my hair, and as soon as I was standing, hands still locked behind my back, she bent me over, bringing my head down between my knees, and then started walking as she dragged my along.
“This is how my bitches in training will walk in my house,” she talked as we moved around the room, marching me and yanking at my hair to keep up. After two or three turns around the room she stopped me in front of her massive desk.
“Stop there, tits on the edge of the desk, arms across it, legs straight, knees locked.”
There I was, my nipples on the carved edge of the desk with my reddened ass sticking out and my arms stretched across the expanse.
“Time for an implement introduction and inventory,” she announced, walking around the desk and opening a wood cabinet behind it. Inside were several rows of whips, paddles, crops and straps. She opened the matching door on the other side to reveal floggers in various materials and colors along with an assortment of canes and switches.
Oh boy, I thought, are we going to go through every one of those today?
No, I couldn’t possibly survive that.
“So here we have my collection of implements,” she said, waving her arms across the open doors. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, it is most impressive, thank you Mistress,”
“We obviously won’t get to all of them today, but all in good time, of course. Now, I’m going to bring out a good example of each type implement I will use in your obedience training. Some of these are used for discipline, some for punishment, some for my amusement and entertainment. So where shall I start?” She looked over the array in the cabinet and pulled out a slim wooden paddle, about two inches wide and about as long as her forearm. “This one is so small and innocent looking, don’t you think?” she queried, laying it on the desk in front of my face and turning again to the cabinet. This time she held out a soft leather flogger, draping it across my face so I could smell the leather.
“It’s quite nice, this one,” she said with admiration. “Buckskin from a trophy deer shot by darling husband, and quite beautiful, too, don’t you think?” She slid the carved handle over my face, followed again by the buckskin lashes.
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, it is very beautiful, thank you Mistress.”
Next came a strop, doubled over and mounted in a turned spool handle with big brass nail heads. The leather was a gleaming olive green. “Italian glove leather, so it makes a great noise and wonderfully pink impressions, but no unsightly welts.”
“This is my favorite among the crops, mainly for the maroon color.” She snapped the crop down on the desk beside my head and I saw the braiding of maroon and black leather in a lovely pattern all down the shaft and the handle.
“Now I generally use the birches only for strict punishment or to reinforce a discipline behavior I find lacking,” but every sister in training should feel the sweet kiss of a birch bundle early on, I’m sure you will agree, hmmm?”
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress,” I answered with real meaning behind it. She placed a small bundle of twig-like branches tied with a maroon ribbon beside the riding crop, placing the implements in an arc across the desk.
“Let’s see, that’s five, how about a couple more?” she thumbed along the various paddles and selected a black leather one, slapping it against her palm. The sound alone was impressive as I imagined what it would feel like across my butt.
“And we can’t forget a cane, can we?” she asked as she pulled two or three from the rack, then settled on a short rod of bamboo with the end wrapped in some fiber. “The handle is wrapped with jute twine, just the thing for an extra massage after a good caning” she cooed, reaching over me to rub the rough fiber of the handle along the crack of my ass and pushing down into my labia.
She came around the side of the desk and sat on the edge beside my head.
“So, we have here seven of my favorite implements, just as the Lord called down his vengeance sevenfold in Leviticus,” she said, still flicking the cane. “Now I needn’t be cruel unless your stupidity gives me a good reason, so I won’t give you seven strokes with each, at least not right now, but I will give you one or more with each just to complete our brief little inventory, hmmm?”
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress,” I answered, with genuine gratitude.
“Good. Maybe you’re not as stupid as I thought. Ignorant, of that I am sure, but not stupid. Now, I will give you a stroke or two or maybe a bit more with each of my favorites and when I have finished with that one I will give you a light tap right up the middle. At that point you will thank me and beg to feel the next one, is that clear?”
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress,” I replied.
“Good, now keep those knees locked, step back from the desk so that the tits hang straight down. Good. And just to add to the appreciation of implement introduction, we have an extra taste.” I felt her hand on my left breast and nipple, then a searing pinch, and she immediately reached under me to my right nipple and grasped it, followed by more pain. I glanced down to see she had clipped a wooden clothespin to each nipple; I gritted my teeth and sucked in a sharp breath.
“You should get familiar with clothespins, my dear, since I enjoy using them so much. I find them to be not only useful training tools, but they are wonderful as entertainment, too.
First is the slim paddle, and you really should feel a succession of these, so I will begin with five on each cheek, then add intensity with six, then seven on each cheek.” What happened to two or three strokes with each implement I asked myself, trying to be ready.
“Don’t clench your muscles or it will hurt worse,” she added, laying into the first five on each cheek, then hardly pausing for the six on each. She stepped back after those strokes, rubbing along my ass and curving up into my labia with her manicured nails. And without a word she laid on the next seven for each side, much harder than the firs two sets, quickly followed by a tap of the paddle on my butt crack.
“Thank you, Mistress Joanna, may I please feel the next implement?”
“I believe we’ll do the flogger next,” she announced, laying the paddle aside. I felt the strands of the flogger as she trailed then across my back then came down hard, crisscrossing my back about four times. Another three struck across my back with the ends of the flogger’s tails wrapping around me to land on my breasts. And I felt another three, one for each cheek then she reversed her swing coming up to catch me full on the lips of my pussy. Then she tapped my butt with the handle and moved to collect her next weapon, leaving the flogger draped on my face, the sweet, soft fragrance of the buckskin filling my nostrils.
“Thank you, Mistress Joanna, may I please feel the next implement?” I asked, choking back tears.
“Oh, that gorgeous Italian leather strap,” she cooed, and it smacks so nicely. And it did, too. Each stroke was square across my ass with a resounding ‘smack’ and the sting to go with it. She stopped after four and I opened my mouth to thank her when she started in with four more.
“Thank you, Mistress Joanna, may I please feel the next implement?”
“Oh, yes, but first let’s have few more from this one, shall we?”
“Thank you, Mistress Joanna, may I please have more, Mistress?” And four more it was. But the next one, the crop, was really the worst. I was anticipating that the cane would be the worst, but I was wrong. She bent me down at the small of my back and kicked my feet further apart and brought it up under me to land squarely on my vulva, three, then four times. Then she stepped back.
“Reach back with your hands and spread your ass cheeks,” she demanded. I obeyed immediately. And she gave me four more sharp hits right on the rosebud of my asshole.
“Thank you, Mistress Joanna, may I please feel the next implement?” And that time I said it with relief.
“How about the leather paddle, and we’ll save for the birches for last?”
This time, two strokes seemed enough for her, though each one sent a shudder of shock up and down my spine as she connected two-handed with that stiff black paddle. She put in front of my face, ordering me to kiss the leather.
“Spring steel core in between two layers of top grade harness leather in this baby,” she said proudly. “Lovely, isn’t it, you stupid girl?” She spit on my face again as she turned back to her collection.
“Thank you, Mistress Joanna, may I please feel the next implement?”
“Ah, the cane. Two is all I will deliver, one across the fat part of your ass, the other on the thigh crease. Which do you beg for first?”
“Mistress Joanna, will you please hit my fat ass first, please Mistress?”
“As you wish,” she grinned as she slashed down mightily, sending a wave of fire through my hips and up and down my legs. She followed with a couple of swishes through the air before connecting right on the crease where the backs of my thighs meet my ass, which I had never thought of as being very fat. But before I could react or even start to answer with my thanks, I felt the wrapped handle of the cane between my labia as she sawed back and forth with, pushing harder and farther with each stroke. Next thing I knew, she had jammed the handle up into my pussy until I felt the end of it hit my cervix, then she pushed a few more times, gave it a vicious twist and stepped back.
“And we will leave it right there until further notice. And make sure it doesn’t fall out,” she said, pacing behind me.
“Thank you, Mistress Joanna, may I please feel the last implement?”
“Hmmm, I think six good shots with the birch bundle should do it, and you will count each one, thank me, and ask for the remaining number. Screw it up, and I will start over with a fresh six.”
“Thank you, Mistress Joanna, may I please have the first stroke?” And down it came. “One, thank you Mistress Joanna, may I please have five more?”
The next three strokes came quickly, with enough time for me to utter the proper answer and ask for the right number, but my ass was on fire. The fifth stroke came from below, catching me full in the pussy and I screamed in agony. I caught my breath, stuttered and stammered and practically yelled out, “Five, thank you Mistress Joanna, may I please have one more?”
“Don’t ever be so slow in proper response again, or I will start over,” she growled into my ear just before she reared back and delivered a slashing cut with the birches. I thought I would bleed from it. I held my position while she slid the implements across the desk, then turned and yanked the clothespins off my nipples. The rush of blood back into them was more painful than the pinch of the pins, I discovered. It’s something I’ve never gotten used to.
“Thank you, Mistress Joanna, for showing me such thorough training with you lovely implements,” I heard myself say, my tits were throbbing and the rush of blood into my nipples felt like a thundering torrent.
“Stand up, arms behind you at attention,” she said, snapping her fingers.
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you, Mistress.”
She had walked around the desk and sat, leaning back in her chair with the her feet up on the desk. “So I trust that you have been reading and studying the Rules and Regulations for our Sisterhood,?”
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress,” I said, hoping I wouldn’t be tested on rules.
“Very well, then tell me the six levels of our membership.”
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress,” I said, trying to remember all of them. That was one section I had read very thoroughly. “At the bottom are probationary members who must be accepted after humility and obedience training and recommended by their training mentors, and accepted by the Supreme Council.”
“And what about their responsibilities to discipline?” she asked.
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, each must serve one year as probationary with monthly discipline for the first six months, and alternate months for the next six months.”
“Provided the first six months don’t require any extra discipline, that is,” she corrected me, taking her feet from the desk and standing up.
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress. I will try to be more thorough.”
“Continue,” she said circling behind me.
“The next level is Provisional where members must appear before the Supreme Council for discipline every three months, and at least one of those sessions must be a public demonstration of humility and obedience for invited members of the Sisterhood.”
“Yes, that is correct. And the next?”
“There is a Provisional Plus level, with only three discipline appearances before the Supreme Council, including one as a public demonstration of humility and obedience for invited members of the Sisterhood. The Provisional levels may be attained after undergoing a test which is administered by invitation.”
“Yes, very good,” Mistress Joanna said. “I have trained more than ten applicants, and each was invited to take the Provisional Test within two months of completion of their Probationary period. I will expect you to follow in that quality.” She turned abruptly and smacked me across the ass with her riding crop. “Now, what’s next?”
“Thank you, Mistress Joanna,” I said. “The next level is Associate Member, with two required discipline appearances each year. If any unsatisfactory behavior is reported to the Supreme Council between those sessions, then the next scheduled discipline will be a public shaming for an invited audience.”
“You have done your homework, haven’t you?” Joanna asked. “And what does a full membership mean?”
“A full membership in the Committee’s Sisterhood means an annual discipline session before the Supreme Council, and eligibility for Supreme Council or the Training Council.”
“Well done, girl,” she said. “And you should know that I Chair the Training Council, and assign mentors to new prospects. And I chose you for myself.”
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress,” I said, my arms aching from holding them at attention. She grabbed a handful of my hair from behind and bent me over, turned and began walking out of the room leading me by the hair and bent double.
“Remember, I like to walk you with your ass higher than your head. That’s because an untrained ass is more valuable than an untrained brain, and until we put some obedient training in your tiny brain, your ass will be your best part.”
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress,”
She spoke as she walked me past the front hall, through the dining room and into the kitchen where a woman was slicing vegetables.
“Dinner is at eight tonight, Rosie,” she said to the woman as she marched me past and through a utility room where she opened a door and pulled me into a garage. There was a Land Rover and some big foreign looking car parked on the far side. She pushed me down onto a mat near the door.
“This is where you will enter for training from now on,” she said, pointing to a side door. At that moment, Josie came through the door carrying my clothes in a basket. She fished my car keys out of my jeans pocket and put them into her own. “Josie will move your car down to where you will park in future sessions and leave the key in it. It’s perfectly safe.”
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress.”
“When you arrive you will remove your shoes, leaving them in your car, come up the path and enter here. You will strip and leave your clothing in the basket. You will then crawl to this door,” indicating the one we had come through, “and knock on the door five times with your forehead. You will then crawl back to kneel at attention on the mat until Josie or on some occasions, even I, greet you and give you your first order of the day. Understood?”
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress.”
“You will also learn some other rules, such as what are these things?” she asked, flicking her crop across my nipples and up under the breasts.
“My bb- breasts, Mistress Joanna.”
“Wrong!” she snapped the crop on each nipple, causing me to flinch. “These are tits, not breasts or boobs or jugs, or anything else, just tits! And that disgusting slit between your legs is not a vagina, a hoo-haw, a pussy or a twat or anything but a –“ she paused. “What?”
“A, uh a cu—cunt, Mistress Joanna?”
“Yes, you stupid bitch, a CUNT! Understood?”
“Yes, Mistress Joanna, thank you Mistress,”
“Good. Now stand up and go to the sawhorse by the window.”
I stood and moved toward the sawhorse when Josie put a fist in my stomach that doubled me up and knocked the wind from me as she kicked the backs of my knees and I fell on the concrete floor of the garage.
“How dare you not acknowledge and thank the Mistress when she gives you an order?” she yelled at me, kicking the backs of my legs again. I struggled for breath as Josie flipped me onto my back then stood on my wrists and grabbed my ankles, spreading my legs apart. She held them wide, almost in a split as Mistress Joanna stood over my crotch, tapping my belly with her crop.
“She won’t forget that again, Josie,” she purred, “not after five on the cunt with this. And don’t lose count or miss even one part of one really really genuine THANK YOU!”
I had a full-on view of the crop coming down squarely on my cunt, as I almost screamed before blurting out my first ‘Thank you.’
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