This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.
Those wishing to send Mistress Jytte E-mail can do so by sending it to me
and I will forward it directly to her.
"Fate"
by
Mistress Jytte
&
Musker
(Part 1)
"Memories"
"They said she had it all in the palm of her hands. Youth, beauty,
intelligence, style and an ambition to win that made all else seem non-
existent. She was the perfect driven athlete. Up before dawn for the ritual
stretching and endurance exercises to keep her perfect body in perfect
form. Then college classes lasting most of the day where she kept her
perfect 4.00 grade point average. And again, for the rest of the day and a
good part of the evening, she practiced long and hard on her perfect
gymnastic routine for the up and coming Olympics.
She gave all of them her very best effort, the floor exercise, the uneven
parallel bars and the vault. All three requiring intense concentration for
perfect execution, because within each was that one element of danger. That
one essential sequence that if preformed correctly, would make her a gold
medal winner. And if not, . . . .
Then it happened. A dip in her concentration, a lost grip and a spotter who
was not paying attention when she should have.
They all came running, the other athletes, the coaches, the paramedics, the
hospital. They were all there in a flash to help her, the driven athlete
and the next gold medal winner.
And they all told her, promised her even, that she was going to be as good
as new and not to give up on her Olympic dream. But they all lied, except
the doctors. They told her the truth, even though she didn't want to hear
it.
Then came the finger pointers, the accusations, the experts, the lawyers,
the courts and finally the judgement. In the end she was a very rich young
woman in a wheel chair. And the spotter, well, those in the know said it
was a terrible accident and not her fault. So the spotter kept her job with
the college. She was a tiny bit mournful deep in her heart, but in the end
nothing changed for her.
But for the one who had it all in the palm of her hands, she tried. She
dropped out of college to devote all her energies into making herself whole
again. More doctors, more hope and more disappointment. When she was at the
end of her rope, she called me.
By some, I have been called a miracle worker. But not in any religious
connection that is. I just get results where most people have failed. Nor
do I have a 100% successful rate either. Just enough to pay the bills and
put a little away for a rainy day. After all, a girl has to look out for
herself too you know.
Now don't jump to conclusions. I am not one of those slight of hand con
artists feasting on the broken lives of those in need, like some drooling
vulture over a dying road kill. I am a professional! A certified nurse and
physical therapist. And to those that I had the pleasure of dispensing my
healing ways too, they gratefully called me their "Angel of Mercy" or a
"God send." And if truth be known, to those whom have not obtained such
glorious, positive results, through no fault of my own, they have nick
named me something different, like "Bitch" or "Bull Dyke" or the most
dramatic "Sadistic Bitch in White".
I kind of like that last one. Although I would prefer to be called
"Mistress Lisa". Mmmmmmm, I love to be called Mistress. It gets me all
excited and aroused, especially between my . . . Now don't misunderstand
me! I am not one of those Mistresses who is a kept woman for some rich guy
cheating on his wife, because old wifee' won't give him head. No, no, no, I
am certainly not one of those types. I am the other kind of Mistress, the
dominant kind. The one with a superior caustic attitude and an ever present
craving to be satisfied, sexually. And of course there is this little
nagging desire of mine to be the instrument of another's, how shall I say
it, distress? That is why I am a nurse and physical therapist. I love
putting women, young beautiful sexy women I might add, through hell, as I
bring them back slowly to their normal self again. All be it with a
slightly submissive kink ingrained in their psyche now.
Oh, in case your wondering. I only work on women. Which given my lesbian
predisposition is quite understandable, don't you think?
So, when I first received a call from Anna, the ruined athlete, I was all
tickled pink. I simply love the feel of firm flesh under a soft smooth
skin. Those powder puff girly girls are all right for awhile, but give me a
woman who takes pride in the strength of her body and I am in erotic
heaven. Of course, one can go too far in the other direction too. My
goodness, those muscle bound women with bodies like men are one major turn
off for me. I can't tell you how often I have turned down those types of
neurotic obsessed women on a regular basis.
But I think what is at the heart of it all is the contrast. A mixture of
the powder puff and the muscle bound. With not too much of the one, nor
too little of the other. A young woman who is all so naturally feminine
with soft flowing curves, angelic like features and beautiful supple
breasts. While at the same time having some gamey meat to her bones that I
can grab, squeeze and smack around if I want. And endurance? Yes! Staying
power, for those long, physically draining, and best orgasm producing
sessions that I have ever experienced in my entire life. Oh yes! If any
woman had all that going for her, I dare say I would become her virtual
slave, euphemistically speaking that is. And when I first met Anna, she was
just that type of woman.
It seemed like love at first sight. Well, for me it was. We where both of
the same generation with her being in her early twenties while I was in the
later part of mine. She didn't wear any makeup that I could see, which made
her flawless Mediterranean like features all that more intensely attractive
to me. I on the other hand am forced to use only a little coloring. Just
enough to give me that professional look that I must present to the general
public at all times.
When we first met she was sitting in her wheel chair with her body
completely covered in a comfortable sweat suit. And even with that shape
shielding garment, I could see she was still keeping up with some limited
amounted of exercising. I for one have never faltered in my daily routine
of stretching and aerobics. It is exactly what I need to keep myself in top
physical shape. Not to mention being a little more limber than most, for
those close, tight, body to body situations that us professional health
care givers sometimes find ourselves in with our patients.
I can remember that first day like it was yesterday. I presented myself to
her with all due friendly professionalism at her home. And she returned it
with a delightful, warm and inviting response, even to the point of
offering me some tea and biscuits. Considering all that she had been
through, especially at the fumbling hands of my fellow health care givers,
I was amazed to see how pleasantly optimistic her disposition was. Right
then and there I knew it was going to be a joy training her, I mean, making
her physically better.
Our first meeting had it's usual get acquainted period with me informing
her of my professional credentials and her giving me her medical history.
After that, I politely told her to disrobe so I could do a preliminary
physical examination of her present condition. She hesitated a little,
which caused me to remind her that I was a state certified medical
professional and that there was no need to feel embarrassed in my presence.
And that was exactly what she was too, embarrassed, as her redden cheeks
were an obvious testament to. But she soon began removing her clothes, once
she turned away from me that is.
Her reluctance to disrobe in front of me was very suspicious. It indicated
to me that she was not comfortable appearing nude before another woman. Now
THAT was strange! Particularly for such a lovely young woman like Anna and
given her long athletic background. She no doubt was required to change
clothes in locker rooms teaming with other nude and semi-nude enticing
nymphettes. And then there must have been a large number of older female
coaches and doctors looking at her nude form while they remained dressed in
front of her like I was. So removing her clothes in front of another
female, a professional health care worker no less, shouldn't have been a
problem, unless! To quote the immortal Shakespear, "Me thinks the lady doth
protest too much".
There had to be something there, lurking deep inside of her. A curiosity, a
desire, perhaps even a need? But at the same time something was telling
her, commanding her, NO! A barrier, an impasse, a dilemma existed between
what her body was aching for and what her mind was screaming at her that
was wrong to do. That's when I knew I had my work cut out for me. Not only
was Anna's body in serious need of my services, but so was her mind. She
needed someone, an authority figure, to tell her it was not wrong to want
what her mind told her she could not have. And at the same time she needed
someone who had the talent and experience to give her body what it
longingly craved for. She needed a mentor, a seductress, to set her lesbian
desires free and to see to it that all of them were completely and totally
satisfied. She needed ME!
Well, maybe not quite the "sadistic bitch in white" that she was about to
receive. But then, as the French would say, "C'est la vie!"
I watched with hungry eyes as Anna removed her sweat suit. Her legs were
not completely disabled. The doctors were able to make them functional
again. She was just limited to the amount of time she could stand on them
before the intense back pain returned her to the wheel chair. When she
finally did remove her sweat suit she just stood there with her back to me
in her virgin white bra and panties. She appeared as a beautiful immaculate
vision to my eyes, a virginal icon in white undies. I had to take hold of
a piece of furniture to steady myself, before I approached her, as a result
of her loveliness on my awestruck famished soul.
I just stood there silently behind her, ogling her superb feminine shape.
Once in awhile she would turn her head to the left, then to the right,
trying to see what I might be doing behind her. Her coyness was such a turn
on for me that I wanted to take her right then, and bury my salivating
pussy all over her cute tongue licking face. But I maintained my
professional repose. There was still a long way to go before that
particular fantasy could come to fruit.
I still remembered her words to me this very day when she was the first to
break the silence between us.
"Ok, I have taken off my sweats. Is this the way you want me?"
My god, that last sentence "Is this the way you want me?" And the way she
said it, with so much childish innocence and gullibility. Frankly, I began
to wonder if she wasn't some sort of con artist at heart. And if she wasn't
the one trying to bait me, to seduce her, to take her, to fuck the living
life out of her. But then, it was probably my own wishful thinking trying
to crack the surface of my professional sobriety at the time. Either way, I
had to play it by the book. For this was a critical point for me. I had to
correctly set the basic framework of our relationship right off the bat.
For what happened next would foretell what the future would be like between
Anna and myself.
So I responded in a short direct matter of fact tone.
"No it is not."
I wanted my authority, my professionalism and my dominance to be the first
thing that Anna was exposed to while she was exposing herself to me.
But at the same time, I didn't want to alienate her either. So I stepped up
behind her, placed my hands gently on her strong shoulders and then
continued with my reply to her. But this time in a compassionate, motherly
kind of tone.
"I know how hard it is for you Anna. All that you have gone through, the
pain, the disappointment. All those unfamiliar people looking at you as if
you were nothing but a broken unfeeling object or a piece of butchered
meat. And although I am a professional and must sometimes act accordingly,
I am also a caring and feeling human being too. So I can empathize with
your situation my dear. Exposing yourself like this, in your own home, and
to a complete stranger, can be a most distressing time for anyone. But I am
here for you Anna. To try my VERY best to make your life better, in all
ways possible. And to do it in a manner that does not threaten your
dignity as a human being or your sensuous femininity. So if you will Anna,
please, let me make this easier for you. Will you do that for me dear? Let
me help you?"
And that is how it begins with all my patients. I gain their trust by
empathizing with their condition and then telling them that their well
being is the center focus of my entire life. Nothing else is as important
to me as they are. And everything that follows goes to support this main
premise, be it emotional, mental or physical in nature. In short, I seduce
them, inspire them, and basically make them fall in love with me. I
cunningly play with their minds and emotions until they are virtually
dependent on me for their entire well being. Once that happens, they really
have no choice but to fall in love with me. I simply fuck with their minds
and emotions until their bodies follow shortly behind, like little puppy
dogs at the end of their Mistress's leash. And with some patients I have
literally done just that.
So I eagerly waited for Anna's response. Her reply would determine if I had
a chance with her or if this was just one of those rare times that I would
not be successful and thus have to end this most promising relationship
before it even got started. And then it came.
"Ummm, yes, sure Lisa. You can help me. Thank you."
Excellent! The first hurdle was successfully executed. Now came the test to
see how fast I could take Anna down that path of complete subservience to
my will.
"Very good Anna." I replied with a happy sound in my voice while I massaged
her shoulders with my hands. Oh it felt so good to feel her firm flesh at
the beginning of my domination of her.
"Now put your hands on top of that table! You can transfer some of your
weight to your arms and ease the strain on your back and legs while I exam
you."
Once more my voice was commanding and direct like a dominating Mistress
should be. But this time I threw in a reason why I ordered her to do so.
Again, it goes back to my main premise. As long as I give my patients the
impression that what I am telling them to do is all for their own good,
then they will follow my commands without question. Unless of course I hit
upon a touchy area. Then I will follow it up with a tender and more caring
explanation that pulls at their emotions and reminds them why I am there to
begin with, which is to make them better. Either way, sooner or later, I
will reach a point when an explanation is no longer needed. And THAT will
mark a major turning point. For then they will be ready for more intimate
commands and contact from me.
When Anna was in position I was ready for the next step. I thought about
pushing it a bit by doing it first and then seeing if she would respond to
it unfavorably. I was so eager to get Anna under my dominating thumb that I
almost made just that kind of mistake. For it was still too early in our
relationship to push things. Not to mention that the contract designating
me as her primary health care giver, among other things, had yet to be
signed. So I continued to play it by the rules and take it slowly, one
small step at a time. A small investment now will pay off with big
dividends in the future.
"Anna, I am going to remove your bra and panties now. I know you're a bit
skittish about it, but I need to see you completely nude in order for my
examination of you to be thorough and accurate. And that's what you want
from me my dear. To be thorough and accurate, correct?"
I then began stroking her silky smooth black hair, as if we were very close
caring friends. This was a big jump. First off, she could easily respond
that she would do it herself. Which would tell me that I had a long way to
go in acclimating her to my will. On the other hand, if she did allow me to
remove her underwear, as well as to continue stroking her hair like I was,
then I would have validated a very important first contact. Something that
I could rapidly build upon in conquering her spirit and body in short
order.
As I stood quietly behind her, petting her head, I could feel "it" inside
of her. Her hesitation in thinking it over. Her inner conflict, between her
mind and body. My continued hair petting was reinforcing her body's desire
for more, and my clinical explanation of why I had to remove her intimate
covering was slowly appeasing any arguments that her mind might have not
to.
As the seconds clicked away I was wondering if I finally made that dire
connection of acceptance and trust that I was so eagerly looking for with
Anna. Then the answer came.
A gentle nodding of her head yes. She could not bring herself to say the
words. For her mind was not to the point of full acceptance yet. But this
time her body dominated her thoughts as she shook her head up and down
several times with increasing vigor.
I leaned over to Anna's ear and whispered "Good Girl" and followed it with
a light pat on her head. My GOD did that feel good! Calling a full grown
woman a petite immature girl and then patting her on the head as if she was
a precious little pet was simply awesome for me!
This was my first true act of dominating Anna and I felt it in all it's
glory. My body shuddered with a chill and then it flashed white hot like an
exploding star. The experience was like anticipating a delicious ice cream
cone all day long during a scorching hot spell and then finally having that
first long savory lick of that sweet melting cream. It's amazing how the
most simple things in life can mean so much, at the right time.
Given Anna's current trusting state I knew I could take some liberties with
her. Not that I would go wild with my increasing lust for her and rip
her bra and panties clean off. Nor did I want to simply remove them as if
they were a pair of dirty socks either.
I was very gentle when I slowly slid my fingers over her impressive back
and under her bra strap. Then carefully, I unhooked the two clasps that
held it together. I let the elastic guide my hands up and around Anna's
back, feeling the warmth of her firm flesh in the process. More slowly now,
I pushed the dangling white lingerie off the top of her powerful shoulders
and onto her arms. I purposely did not pull the bra cups from her breasts,
even though I was dying to see their full rich symmetry suspended in
midair. The reason being was a simple one, embarrassment.
We are all creatures of habit. A good part of our life is in doing things
that are routine and virtually automatic, like putting on and taking off
our clothes. We may spend a certain amount of time in deciding what to
wear, or how it looks on us, once we put it on, but rarely do we give a
passing thought to the process of putting it on or taking it off. That is,
unless one is a sleazy stripper. And that's how I wanted Anna to feel like
in my presents.
By having her bra straps dangling over her arms and it's cups barely
covering her breasts, I was forcing Anna to be aware of her half dressed
condition. Her normal everyday routine was broken in mid-stride. And now
she was forced to deal with the uneasiness of her half dressed, slutty
situation. Oh she tried to use her hand to remove her bra completely or to
hold it close to her body so the cups would not fall away. But as soon as I
saw her hand leave the table I quickly ordered a commanding "NO!"
She stopped immediately and turned her head sharply in my direction. I
momentarily delighted in her positive response to my authority. No doubt
due to her athletic training where her coaches would command her to perform
in a specific way. Any rebellion that she might have had was wiped out of
her a long time ago by those pseudo Masters and Mistresses of sports. But
again, we were in the early dawn of our "special" relationship so to calm
her a bit I just explained to her that it would be easier for her to keep
herself supported with two hands instead of one and the exam would only
take a minute or so.
There was a noticeable uneasiness when she put her hand back on the table.
Probably due to the fact that her bra was covering only one of her breasts
instead of two now.
I'm afraid that my curiosity got the better of me at that point. For I
quietly bent over at my waist and took what was supposed to be a brief
glance at what her pendulous uncovered breast looked like.
Oh it was so beautiful! And it was just like the rest of her too, perfect!
Not too big, not too small, and it literally made my mouth water. It hung
out from her slightly muscular chest so sedately in a natural firm tear
drop shape. There wasn't the least bit of flop or droop in it what-so-ever.
My eyes began to squint as I looked long and hard at the area under her
breast where the curvature of her breast met with her chest. I was looking
for any semblance of scaring in that particular area. Her breast looked so
superb that I wondered if the hand of man might have played a small part
in it's exquisite artistic appearance. But all I could see was smooth
taught seamless skin. Which meant her breasts had to be one hundred
percent natural.
My eyes almost bugged out of my head, when I saw her excited nipple grow
out long and hard. I can not tell you how long it's been, since I've seen
such a perfectly matched set of nipples, aureolas and breasts before. They
were all so beautiful in their shape, symmetry and proportion to one
another. Usually what I find in my patients is that some part of them often
offsets another, but not in Anna. I had no choice but to turn my gaze
immediately away. I was so overwhelmed with what I saw that I knew that it
was only a matter of seconds before instinct, like my curiosity, got the
better of me and I would have Anna flat on the floor with me on top of
her. My hands grasping, mauling and digging my fingers and nails into her
perfect tender breasts while my tongue, lips and teeth were doing equally
sweet sadistic things to her flawless perky nipples.
I let her stay like that, bent over, while I regained my sterile objective
composure. I knew that for Anna the seconds were ticking away like hours,
for her facial cheeks were beginning to take on that warm embarrassed glow
about them. At that point it was time for me to act.
I slowly slipped my fingers between the elastic sides of her panties and
the top of her round womanly hips. Immediately I could feel and see Anna's
entire body go rigid. She knew what was about to happen, and because she
had said nothing to stop me, I decided to take my time with removing her
panties.
Oh I so love a nice ass, maybe more so than a nice pair of big fat tits.
And Anna had one very fine derriere too. Her panties, like her bra, was
your standard functional, no frills, white cotton. Since they lacked any
erotic appeal for me I found it necessary to get my thrills in another
way.
So I slowly began tugging and coaxing them down over her cheeks. There was
more than enough room to do this part quite easily, but I wanted Anna's
face to turn as red as possible. So I stretched them wide from her hips and
did a little sea sawing back and forth across her plump rump as if they
were a size too small. Just like a stripper would in order to get her
drooling patrons to ogle her most impressive butt.
With each fraction of an inch lower I took them, I could see more and more
of her delectable feminine tush. When the rim of her panties was down below
the crack of her butt I could see a tan line begin to form. I have to tell
you that I was a little surprised by what was being revealed to me. Here I
thought Anna was your proverbial straight arrow. A young woman with a
determined fixed interest in her studies and the Olympic dream. But what
was gradually unfolding before my eyes was the light skinned shadow left
from wearing a french cut bathing suit. Not quite the G-string up the crack
of your ass type, but definitely cheek revealing. It was very hard for me
not to giggle at the panoramic view that was being unveiled before my eyes.
Nor was it easy for me to keep myself from grabbing a full chunk of
scrumptious ass meat when I had that elastic strategically placed down
under the clef of her butt either. All I could do was to take a step back
and just stare at that gorgeous fleshy butt, framed so artistically by her
pristine white panties.
My mind was racing as to what I could do with such a divine, well formed,
virginal rear end like hers. I began going through all the utensils I could
use on it once she became my willing slave. The paddles with their large
unforgiving areas, as they smacked audibly hard against subtle feminine
flesh. The sharp cracking noise of a leather crop as it made those cute
rectangular red marks all over her sensitive burning cheeks. The floggers,
big and small, with their multiple whip like tentacles making that heavy
smacking sound across her entire butt or one quivering cheek in particular.
And of course my hand. I began rubbing my fingers across my palm in
anticipation of the expected sting I would feel from a good long spanking,
knowing full well that whatever unpleasantness I felt would be magnified a
hundred fold for poor sweet Anna. It took a great deal of will power on my
part not to simply pinch her robust butt right then. But again, I
maintained my professional stature as I stepped back up to Anna. I grabbed
the sides of her panties once more whose front was still covering her
secret garden, and then as fast as I could I yanked them straight down to
just below her knees before letting them go with a smack.
I can still hear the sudden loud gasp that Anna made when I did that. It
was so precious. It seemed to reflect both surprise and relief at the same
time. Surprise, in it being totally unexpected, and relief, in that she too
wanted me to do that to her. She longed for someone like me, an aggressive
demanding and powerful sadistic lesbian, to take control like that and
expose her sexy furry patch of intimate femininity in one quick jerk. Or at
least that's how I interpreted it.
But I just could not believe my luck! Anna simply remained there, bent
over, with her hands on the table and her arms straight as rails supporting
her upper body. And not a single note of astonishment, anger, or even a
simple questioning "why". Nothing at all echoed from those two sensuous
pouting lips of her's.
But questions were forming in my mind though. Was her athletic training
that intense and controlling so as to condition her to the will of
practically any authority figure? Could she be that self-disciplined and
focused in her life that once she agreed to do something, then there would
be no turning back until it was accomplished, no matter what it was? Could
she be in fact a true, deeply ingrained, latent submissive? A submissive
who only now with my expert help, could safely let go and fully explore her
deepest darkest desires?
The questions kept coming faster and faster, one after the other until I
finally had to say 'ENOUGH' to myself. The questions and their answers were
all superfluous. The only thing of importance that mattered was that Anna
was remaining in the position I had put her in. That, and the strong
feeling of positive expectations that was enveloping me right then. An
expectancy that whatever the future was going to bring to both Anna and
myself, it would be "I", not Anna, that would determine if we both
experienced it or not.
But something very bizarre happened to me right after that. It happened
while I was looking at Anna's lower back. For some strange reason I did not
see a bent over nude slut with her panties bunched up around her knees and
her bra hanging haphazardly from her arms and one tit. What I saw was a
young beautiful woman with an undaunted desire to be whole again. To
experience her life long dream of standing on the highest step with a gold
medal resting upon her chest with pride. And a severely damaged back that
would never allow her dream to come to pass.
I felt so sorry for her. The damage went beyond muscle and tendons, which
was beyond my capabilities or for that matter anyone's ability, to put
back as it once was. Oh I could make her better all right. I had no doubt
about that. But to put her back like she was, like she wanted, like she
longed for? There was just no way. Fate can be such a cruel mistress
sometimes.
Oh my heart went out to the poor girl. Did you hear me say that? My HEART
went out to her! My god, I was actually falling in love with her. I could
not believe it, not then, not even now. How could such a thing happen to
me? Never, I mean NEVER, did I have a deeply heartfelt emotional experience
with any of my patients before. They were all simply about sex, domination
and my desire to reek sadistic pleasure from their agonizing flesh. But
with Anna it was different. It had to be something along the lines of love
at first sight, uncontrollable infatuation, kismet, my ultimate fantasy
coming true, or all of them at once.
Yea, that's it! It was all those things coming together at once. It had to
be. I had always thought those moronic cliches and trite catchwords, were
for fools and romantics, which I considered myself immune to. But never-
the-less, it had to be true. The longer I stared at her disfigured back,
the more compassion, empathy and yes, LOVE I was feeling for her. It was no
longer just an act for me. To pretend that my patient was the well spring
from which my life flowed so I could turn them into my very own masochistic
sex slave. It was real! And I was hooked!
Oh it was all so ironic, me loving Anna. And that was so very, very bad
too. Because one never hurts the one they love. I know, I know, more
pathetic trite and romantic dribble, but it's still true.
Ha Ha Ha, the Sadistic Bitch in White was hit by Cupid's arrow and presto!
She had became a moon struck romantic. All those ideas I had of tormenting
Anna, making her suffer, painfully, at my hand. While at the same time
gorging myself in one gut wrenching orgasm after another at her expense.
They all went for naught now. Oh yes, FATE can be a cruel mistress indeed.
But, Fate can be a delightful conniving bitch as well.
I stood there just looking upon Anna's back and seeing those long ugly
painful scars running down it. Normally that sort of thing would make me
feel a twinge of excitement and a desire to finger myself, but not this
time. All I wanted to do was to take Anna in my arms, comfort her, kiss
her, caress those hideous ridges of skin ever so gently, and to make them
all go magically away for her. Oh GOD did I have it bad!
I did walk up to her and actually touched them with my fingers. To which
Anna instantly jerked forward. Mostly out of surprise, but also because my
hand was so cold. I even felt bad with myself for not taking the time to
warm my hands up ahead of time before causing her such discomfort. Oh I was
one pathetic love sick puppy back then.
I don't know how I did it, what with this new romantic crush coursing
through my soul. But once more I kept my professional persona intact. I
told her that it was necessary for me to touch her some more, so that I
could perform my examination, and for her to please remain still. Then I
began to really touch her in earnest. I couldn't help myself!
For a good long while my hands never left her exquisite female body.
Touching her, stroking her and yes I was even fondling and caressing her. I
was spending an incredible amount of time in areas that had nothing to do
with where she was hurt. Those very same intimate areas that I love to
touch so much on a full ripen woman's body like Anna's, and all under the
guise of it being a necessary part of the examination. I was now using the
same excuses for my new loving advances as I once did with my old sadistic
ones, And all during my loving exploration Anna remained in position. Only
a faint little moan or groan would flow from her cute passionate lips now
and then.
My force of will prevailed once more as I stopped any further intimate
advances with my precious Anna. I then wrapped one arm around Anna's chest
and the other around her waist. I drew myself close to her with our bodies
touching in a warm hug. I whispered softly in her ear that the examination
was over with and that I was going to help her back up. Her head flinched a
bit when she felt my hot moist breath on her sexy ear. I could still feel
the uneasiness in her body as I slowly pulled us both up to a standing
position. Her soft fragrant hair accidently whipped across my face as she
tried to turn her head back enough to face me and whispered a thank you in
return. With my arms still around her, hugging her tightly, longer than
what would have been perceived as being normal, I finally did bring myself
to set my precious Anna free.
She quickly collected her clothes and put them on as fast as she could.
Again, I felt the pull on my heart strings as I watched her dress with
great difficulty from the pain that she felt in accomplishing that simple
task. I began wondering if this new loving relationship thing had a chance
of working out now. Oh I knew I would find a way for Anna to return my
love alright, both spiritually and physically. I was just unsure what to do
about my sadistic urges that's all.
I have learned a long time ago that trying to ignore them was a useless
endeavor. It only made my life difficult and very frustrating to live. I
knew that sex with Anna would eventually be good and satisfying, but I also
knew that I would soon want more. No, I didn't "want" more, I "demanded"
more! Much more than just satisfaction. I wanted sublime ecstasy, and by
god I was going to get it too! But not with my precious Anna.
To say that I was in a frustrated quandary would be an severe
understatement. Briefly I even thought about leaving Anna and trying again
with another victim I mean patient. But I loved her. I wanted to be with
her, always. I wanted to hold her, to cuddle up under a warm blanket with
her, to laugh and cry with her, to live life to it's fullest with her. But
how? Unless . . .
Then in a flash it came to me! Remember when I said that Fate can be a
conniving bitch, as well as a cruel mistress?"
A voice that remained quiet for a very long time finally answered quietly
back.
"Yes".
"Well, that sweet femme fatale was beginning to smile right down on me. She
was giving me the most luscious idea that I ever had, and exactly at the
time I needed it the most too. An idea that would satiate my most darkest
sadistic desires to the max! All those times when I wanted to go one step
further with my patients, but decided not to because it was too extreme,
too painful or far too humiliating for them to endure, I was going to be
totally free to indulge myself in. I had found a way to have my cake and
eat it too, all of it! I was going to drink deep from the cup of appalling
inhuman desires until I was a fully inebriated blissful sadistic bitch in
white! But, it would not be with my dear sweet Anna. Oh no! She would
definitely not be the lab rat to which I would experiment on in bringing my
toe curling demonic fantasies into erotic flesh pleasuring reality. Oh no,
not with her."
The once silent voice across from Lisa made a long soft exhale. The voice
knew what Lisa was waiting for, conformation. And it was important for the
voice to answer her correctly too so the rest of the ghastly tale could be
told in it's uninhibited entirety. So the voice took a deep breath, held it
in for a second and then gave Lisa her needed affirmation.
"It was to be with Martha, wasn't it Lisa?"
"YES! That poor excuse for a coach and spotter. The one who failed Anna
when she needed her the most. The one responsible for my precious Anna's
less than whole existence. Martha would be the recipient of my glorious
orgasmic wrath, to atone for her horrible sins with her very living flesh
if need be! And do you want to know what the most cunning part of my idea
was?"
The voice responded without a single bit of emotion in it.
"Yes."
"The very best part of it was, that Anna would be the hand from which
Martha was going to suffer the most appetizing and agonizing pains of hell
from. I, yes "I", MISTRESS LISA, the "Sadistic Bitch in White" would be the
creative genius, the inspiring artist, and the strategic planner to which
Anna, my loving instrument, would work my will through. I would be the
Sorceress and Anna would be my dutiful apprentice. Under my guidance we
would both bring Martha to her knees, begging and pleading with tears in
her eyes for mercy. And our response to her pathetic tormented existence
would only be more of the same. Oh how sweet revenge will be. For Anna and
I."
The voice pondered for a moment. A decision had to be made. To continue
now or tomorrow? The voice needed some time for itself. To take in what had
already transpired. To revitalize it's own inner self. And to prepare
itself for what was waiting for it tomorrow. So the voice made the
decision.
"Let's stop here and continue tomorrow. Is that ok with you Lisa?"
"If you wish. I guess I could use the rest even though I'm too keyed up
right now. So then, I will see you again tomorrow, in the morning, right
Doctor?"
"Yes Lisa, first thing tomorrow morning will be fine. Have a pleasant
night's rest and remember to buzz the nurse if you need anything. Good
night Lisa."
"Good night Doctor."
And as Lisa cozied up under the covers of the hospital bed, Doctor Rosalyn
Bridgestone left the room with her notebook in hand.
Doctor Bridgestone was about to call it a day when she decided to quickly
look in on one more patient before going home. This patient was in another
wing of the hospital, but directly on her way back to her office. The walk
was not too far, down a couple flights of stairs and a little ways along a
narrow zig zagging corridor. When she came to a jail like gate she removed
a plastic card with it's embossed magnetic strip from the pocket of her
long white lab coat and swiped it through the designated slot. A green
light came on indicating she had the proper high ranking credentials to
enter.
A moment later a loud audible hum came on and the high tech lock opened.
She pushed the massive iron gate forward and continued on through. The gate
would close by itself. And when the heavy metal slammed up against itself,
the power holding the lock opened was immediately shut off engaging the
lock again with a bang. But Doctor Bridgestone made no indication of even
hearing it, let alone being startled by it. It had all become old hat for
her now after spending several decades working and now running the
behavioral department of this hospital.
She walked about two thirds down the wide hallway, stopped and looked
through a small unbreakable window mounted in a white steel door. On the
other side of the door was a room with Doctor Bridgestone's other patient
in it.
The patient was in what a lay-person would call the proverbial padded room.
She was wrapped in a tight undersized straight jacket. Her arms and hands
were safely hidden away in it's long white sleeves that kept her forever
hugging herself. About her legs was a form fitting ankle length skirt
without the sexy slit up the side. It too was made from the same hospital
issued heavy white canvas material like her upper wrap was. Both specially
designed garments were held in place by several comfortable but inescapable
brown leather straps with a fashionable padded piping along their top and
bottom edges. A rather interesting brown strap arrangement, more like a
harness, was fastened about her head. It's dominant feature was a wide
leather strap stretched taught across her mouth and buckled tightly behind
her head. A myriad of smaller straps emanated from it in various strategic
places that seemed to cover her face, head and blonde matted hair in a
tight web like design. Their purpose was simple, to keep her mouth guard
muzzle tightly in place until someone wanted to remove it.
The patient was sitting on the spongy white floor with her back resting up
against the spongy white wall. She was staring, in earnest, up at the white
door and in particular at the small mirrored glass inside of it near it's
top. She seemed passive and under control, but her breathing through her
nose was strong, fast, and deep, like an athlete during a workout. The only
movement that she made, other than the occasional eye blink, came from her
bare feet poking out from the bottom of her white and brown striped cocoon.
They were both moving back and forth in a kind of midair taping motion, but
doing so at an incredible fast rate like from a mindless, nervous twitch.
Obviously she had a tremendous amount of energy wrapped up inside of her
and this was the only way she could find to relieve it.
The Doctor looked long and hard at the bound and gagged woman, just like a
spider would at it's recently captured and packaged prey. Her sober
expression was slowly turning into one of unexpected happiness. A big open
smile with eyes full of joy made the change in her spirit complete. She
began shanking her head from side to side as if in total disbelief as to
what Fate had just laid before her, literally at her very feet. She began
to speak in a soft reflected tone directly to the woman on the other side
of the one way mirror. Words that her patient could not possibly hear.
"Well, well, well, it looks like we meet again. Don't we, my DEAR FRIEND
Martha!" She labored out loud with gut wrenching anger and vengeance
on those two words that seemed to stick in her craw. Two words that meant
exactly the opposite from what she now felt raging through her soul. And
for a brief moment Martha's feet stopped moving as if she heard her. Then
again they quickly went back to their rapid blurring air dance.
A minute or so passed, just enough time for the good doctor to regain her
objective composure. Then she continued with her self-enlightening talk
once more in a nonchalant tone that didn't last long.
"I do believe Lisa was right. Fate can be both a cruel mistress and a
conniving bitch. And I know you would agree with her too, wouldn't you,
my DEAR FRIEND MARTHA!"
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