NICOLE: JOURNEY OF A SLAVE
CHAPTER 3
MISTRESS AND THE COUNTESS
For Nicole, the six days between her meeting with Mistress Ilsa and the
appointed day for serving Her dragged by at a snail's pace. Many thoughts from
her initial encounter came back to her; what was the "delicious surprise" She
had in store? Who was the mysterious woman whom Mistress hated so badly? What
did Nicole's period have to do with Her "plan"? Trying to rationalize that
waiting would provide the only answers didn't help. Ever so slowly the days
dwindled down to three, then two, then one, and then, finally, it was Thursday
morning.
Right at the stroke of 8:00, a jet black Jaguar pulled up in front of
Nicole's apartment building. She had been agonizing since 6:00 as to how she
should dress. Master's preferences in this area were well known to her, but
Mistress had made no stipulations, excepting that she was to be clean shaven.
Not wanting to take a chance in missing any hair, Nicole had made a trip to the
beauty salon for a wax dipilatory of the area Mistress found so distasteful.
Surely this would please Mistress, she thought.
Nicole had reasoned that following her Master's dress code would be the most
logical thing for her to do, so she chose a plaid skirt, a V neck blouse with
buttons down the front, and a pair of flats, with no stockings, bra, or panties.
Master liked for her to look like a young child in public.
She walked down the two flights of stairs and got into the car. Without so
much as a word, the driver put the car in gear and headed off for Mistress'
townhouse.
The drive to the townhouse was made in silence, the driver never taking his
eyes off the road. Nicole tried very hard not to stare at the handsome young man
at the wheel, but found it difficult, especially after she noticed that he had
no hair on his head. The Jag didn't stop in front of the building, but went down
a driveway that lead underneath it. When the car stopped, her door was opened
for her by whore. Nicole could see that whore's body showed signs of a recent
and very severe whipping. Marks crisscrossed her legs, with blood oozing out in
several places.
When Nicole got out of the car, whore shut the door and started to walk
toward a door in the garage. Sensing that she should follow, Nicole started
after her. Whore held the door open for Nicole, so she could enter first. Before
Nicole even could say 'Thank you,' the door slammed shut, and she was alone and
in total darkness. She stood as still as she could, until a voice said: "Walk
forward, slave."
Ever so slowly she inched forward, fearing she might trip over some unseen
object. Then, off to her left, a light illuminated a cardboard box. The voice
said, "Remove that ridiculous little girl outfit and put all of it in the box."
Nicole stripped off her clothing, and placed it in the box as she was bade.
Then the voice commanded, " whore, take that box to the incinerator and burn it.
This cunt can't even remember that being naked is her lot in life." Then to
Nicole, the voice continued, "And if you ever enter my house again with any
clothing on, I will punish you so harshly that you will never again entertain
wearing clothes. Now, walk over to that table." And with that, another light lit
up a table a few feet away from the young slave girl. "whore, put my collar
around her neck."
Once again, whore seemed to appear out of thin air, and picked up the collar.
As she put it on her, the voice said, "You will notice that this is not some
ordinary collar like you are most likely accustomed to. This is a slave collar
of my own design. Once whore fastens it around that pretty little neck of yours,
it can only be taken off by cutting the leather. It is my gift to you, and you
are to wear it at all times; at home, at work, at the beach, even at your
parent's house for Thanksgiving dinner. You are a slave, and it is to be
immediately obvious to all who see you. Do I make myself clear, slut?"
"Yes, Mistress," came the reply.
"whore, put those steel rings through the piercings in her nipples."
A shudder ran through Nicole has she felt the icy steel being inserted into
her nipples. Whore's hands felt more like the talons of some bird of prey,
rather than the hands of a young girl. "That's fine, she's starting to look more
like real slave now. Whore, pick up that rusty old lock and slip it through the
holes in her cunt lips. The lock is old and weighs almost a pound, so it should
distend those smooth shaven lips pretty far."
Nicole could feel whore's fingers feeling for the holes in her labia. When
she had located them, she forced the lock through the holes and locked it in
place. "Drop the lock, whore," came the command. Nicole's body jerked as the
full weight of the lock pulled down on her. "The lock, my little one, will
proclaim to all at the bridge group today that I control you in every sense of
the word. And, when your menstrual flows starts to seep out, it should provide
the effect I am looking for.
"whore, tie her to the rack and decorate her belly and thighs for me. She
looks too much like some cheap bondage magazine slave. And whore, keep in mind
that if I do not approve of your handiwork, you will take her place on the
rack."
The overhead lights came on, drenching the room from floor to ceiling.
Initially blinded, Nicole's eyes gradually adjusted to the bright light,
allowing her to see that she was in a painstakingly exact replica of some
torture chamber from the Spanish Inquisition. Whore lead her by the arm over to
the rack, and made her lie down on her back, with her arms stretched over her
head. Whore placed the cuffs on her wrists and ankles and then walked to the
foot of the rack and began to turn the wheel. Instantly, Nicole could feel her
arms being pulled away from her feet. Whore didn't stop until Nicole was moaning
in pain. A wedge was then put in the wheel so that it couldn't slip and loosen
the tension on Nicole's taut body.
Whore disappeared for a few seconds and then came back brandishing a long and
wicked looking piece of cane. "Heed my warning, whore," came Mistress' voice
from a throne-like chair near a wall. Nicole heard the whistle of the cane as it
slashed through the air, landing with a cutting force across both of her thighs
at the same time. As she screamed with all of her might, and tensed against her
bonds, another blow followed, just a bit higher on her thighs than the first.
And then another, and another, until Nicole's screams were continuous and she
was bathed in sweat.
When it was all over, Nicole's belly and thighs were covered in a vivid
series of deep red welts, with tiny pinpricks of blood showing on the angrier
ones. "Nicely performed, whore, you mat yet earn a treat today. Now, take her to
the stocks, and give some attention to her right breast. But the right one only.
I have something special in mind for the left one, and I want it untouched."
The dull ache in Nicole's shoulders slowly ebbed as whore released the wheel.
When the cuffs were taken off, whore helped her to her feet and walked her over
to the most barbaric instrument Nicole had ever seen. Mistress had referred to
it as the stocks, but it bore almost no resemblance to that Puritan humiliation
device that shared the name. Instead of the two pieces of wood with holes cut in
them for the head and hands, this one was made of plexiglass and had only two
holes in it. As Nicole was lead around to the bench, she could see two six inch
sections of broomsticks sticking up from the bench. Whore helped get her in
position and guided the two shafts into the openings of her cunt and ass, and
then, all at once, she reached up and pulled down on Nicole's shoulders with all
of her weight. A high pitched shriek filled the chamber. whore then took a
length of steel fishing line and wrapped it tightly around Nicole's right breast
many times, causing the veins to turn blue and her breast to get hard. Then she
took a piece of rope and tied Nicole's arms behind her back, pulling the rope
tight so that her elbows touched. This caused Nicole's breasts to be thrust out.
whore then pulled the end of the fishing line through the hole in the
plexiglass, and pulled the breast through the hole by the wire. she fastened it
to a cleat on the other side, after checking to see that it was as tight as it
could go.
To say that her position was uncomfortable would be understating it. Her ass
and pussy were filled with the wooden shafts. Her breast had gone numb, and she
was pulled flat against the glass with no room to squirm. Whore then held up a
whip to Nicole's face, the likes of which she had never seen. It had a short
wooden handle with five strands of thin cord attached to it. And tied to the
ends of the cords were small steel fishing hooks.
Without warning, whore struck the breast with such force that the five hooks
were imbedded in the smooth skin of her breast, and a strong tug was needed to
rip them free. As she screamed, Nicole looked down at her breast, and through
the tears that streamed from her eyes, she saw five deep lacerations with blood
running from each one. Again the scourge found it's mark, and again, and again.
After the fifth blow, whore stopped.
It took over five minutes for Nicole to stop screaming. When she looked at
her throbbing right breast, she could not recognize it. Where once a flawless
milky white breast had been, now there was a quivering mound of mutilated flesh,
with blood dripping down the glass and forming a pool at Nicole's feet.
She had been whipped before, but the marks had always gone away within a week or
so. These marks, she knew, would remain with her forever, as a lifelong reminder
of Mistress Ilsa's power!
"Nicely done once again, whore. I don't think I have ever seen you so into
this before. I fear that I shall have to reward you. Now, take off that wire
that's binding her breast.
"Nicole, you will feel a bit more pain as the circulation returns to that
ugly teat of yours. The bleeding may get heavier also. whore, do not allow her
to wipe the blood off. This is an important part of my plan."
As Nicole was to learn, Mistress was true to Her word. As the circulation
returned, the blood flowed more freely and the pain increased.
"Slave Nicole," Mistress said, "you have been prepared for My uses of you. We
will be departing in fifteen minutes, so I am going to explain to you what My
plan is, and, more importantly, what your role is.
"My chauffeur will drive us to our destination. When we arrive, you will pull
the tampon out of your cunt. I want the flow going down your legs soon after we
arrive.
"As I said, my ploy for bringing you with me is that you are my maid who will
be filling in as a substitute. Most of your chores will be the duties that are
typically associated with this position. You will be serving drinks, clearing
ashtrays, serving food, and the like. Whenever one of the women needs to use the
toilet, you will accompany them. I have seen to it that there will be no toilet
paper available in the bath, so all of the cleaning chores will be done with
your mouth. When you are not working, you will squat in a corner of the dining
room, so that your menstrual blood will make a puddle on the floor.
"When the bridge games are through, you will approach Me, in front of our
hostess, and ask if you have pleased Me. When I reply that you have, you will
hand Me this small leather bag, which will be placed in the corner where you
have been squatting. At that point, you will climb up on the antique linen
tablecloth that covers the dining room table, so that your cunt blood will
spread out as it stains the cloth, and hold up your left breast to Me. My little
surprise for you is that I intend to scarify your breast with an intricate
pattern of designs using a razor knife from the bag. The fresh blood dripping
from your left teat will balance nicely with the dried blood on your ugly right
one, and it will all mingle with the mess coming from your crotch. I am sure
that My "friend" will be so appalled by my actions in her home that she will
quickly drop out of our group.
"By the way, slave, did I mention that I think you may know this woman?"
"No, Mistress, You didn't."
"I didn't? What name did I give you?"
"You said her name was Countess Rahman, Mistress."
"Yes, or course, but I think you might remember her by her maiden name, and
that was,.......COURNEY........HAVILLAND111'
