The following chapters have been edited by Woodsman's game and Curtis. I thank them both for their time, effort, and kindness.

Chapter One – Elise

Layla's Leatherwear - it stocked nothing but leather – clothing, boots, chaps, whips and more. If you wanted it, and it was made of hide, Layla's was the place to go. Although expensive, the store always did good business.

Elise loved to go there. She loved the smell of the leather, the feel of it, and even the sound it made when it slapped against her bare skin when she wore it. She inhaled the sweet smell and sighed. As she ran her fingers over the smooth garments, a little black skirt studded with metal rivets, and obviously very short caught her attention. She closed her eyes for a moment and imagined herself wearing it. How she would be stared at with such lust. How it would be so disgustingly short it would barely cover her sweet little bottom and show off her lovely legs. How men would wolf whistle and women wink suggestively. She wanted it. She glanced down at the price tag. "Forget it," she told herself, "it's far more than you can possibly afford." Having been out of work for more than two weeks, and wondering how she would pay her next week's rent, little luxuries like this were simply out of the question. She pulled it from the rack and held it up against her hips, turning this way and that to study her refection in the nearby mirror – and she knew she had to have it regardless!

On this particular day it was quieter than usual. Kitty, the sales assistant, wasn't anywhere to be seen, and two other people, a man and a woman, were the only other customers. The security guard appeared to be distracted by them as they flirted and teased each other. The man held a pair of black leather trousers; the crotch was completely missing and a short strap with a metal large metal ring hung from the front. The woman pouted as she ran her finger around the inside of the ring and told him, "I don't think this is going to be big enough for you."

They laughed.

"Not once you get hold of me!"

They laughed more.

"I want you to try them on."

Together, they disappeared into a changing cubicle. The door closed and Elise heard a shrill feminine cry, followed by giggling and knocking. Normally, she would have moved closer while pretending to browse; she often enjoyed listening to the couples when they disappeared like that. Today, however, she had something more pressing on her on her mind.

She looked over at the security guard. He glanced surreptitiously around before sidling over to the changing cubicles. She needed to do it now. It would be risky, but she could do it. For several moments she stood there, looking down and pretending to check the price tags, then she dropped her bag off her shoulder and gently pushed the garment inside. It was so small that it fitted inside easily. There, it had been so damned easy! She began to walk away.

"Stop right there, sweetheart."

She froze then gasped as a firm hand gripped her shoulder. She spun around to see a tall man in his early forties, with a slight paunch, beady eyes and greasy receding hair, wearing a dark blue uniform and a lecherous grin. Previously, Elise hadn't particularly liked the look of the security guard; now she certainly didn't!

She managed a weak smile, then asked innocently: "Is there some kind of problem here?"

"Damned right there is. I saw what you just did."

Elise let out a breathy little sigh. "Oh, you saw what?"

"I saw you shove that skirt in your bag."

"Oh?" She smiled again. "Now, how can you be so sure?" Feeling a little more relaxed now after the initial surprise, she looked straight ahead at this chest and began fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, fingering them playfully.

That hadn't been the reaction he had expected, he hesitated unsure of what to do next, then grinned down at her. "So, you like to play, do you?"

"I might. I might even like to give you a little private viewing of me wearing the silly little skirt that all this fuss is about," she replied, moving a little closer while trying to ignore the smell of body odor and stale cigarettes emitting from him.

"You know, I think perhaps we might be able to come to some kind of arrangement here," he told her. "Yes, indeedy!"

Placing her hand over her mouth to hide a little grin, she thought smuggly: "Some times it's just too damned easy. Oh, you're so damned good, Elise, you really are!"

He ushered her into an office at the back of the store. Elise had expected they would be alone in there, instead they were confronted by an attractive woman sitting behind a large wooden desk. She noted a small brass name plaque with the name 'Ms. Layla Starr' engraved on it. "So this was the lovely Layla," she thought. How many rumours and kinky stories had she heard about this woman, and yet, sitting there flawlessly groomed and in a crisp white blouse, she actually looked quite business-like.

As the two entered, Layla looked up and began studying the girl's features. The sweet face would surely have had a rather innocent appeal if not for the scarlet red lipstick so carelessly smudged over the mouth, and the clear sapphire eyes spoiled with overly dark shadow. However, the clothes were what really told Layla everything she needed to know. The tight red skirt had ridden up and now pulled across the girl's hips, and the black top, clinging and stretching over her breasts and nipples, revealed that she obviously didn't wear a bra. "The cheap clothes of a whore," Layla noted silently to herself. She leaned back in her chair and in a nonchalant manner inquired: "Well?"

"I caught this one trying to steal, Mistress Layla," the security guard announced, adding, "she almost got away with it too, but not with old Marty, here, on the job. "

Elise swung around and glared at him. "What does the fool think he's up to?" she asked herself, while frantically trying to think of another plan.

"Is that so? Well, what am I to do with such a naughty little girl, Martin?" As Layla stood up, and moved around to the front of the desk, Elise couldn't help silently swooning at the tight, black, leather skirt worn so well by this intriguing woman with the cascading dark hair and mysterious cat-like green eyes. Tall and slim, with long legs accentuated by high-heeled shoes, anyone, male or female, would have to have seen that Layla was all woman.

"I could think of many things, Ma'am," the security guard told her with a smirk.

"Yes, what ever happened to the last one we had to report, Martin?"

"Last I heard she was still in that women's prison just outside of town. A friend of mine told me she's sorry now, real sorry, just like this one is going to be."

"Now then, Martin, let's not be so hasty. We really should give the girl a chance to explain," Layla smiled, leaning forward to gently brush Elise's curls back from her face and take a closer look.

"It's all a mistake!" Elise protested.

Layla looked her up and down, "Well of course it is, dear. I understand. I really do." Then her expression changed. She pursed her lips and continued. "Now understand this: I don't want to report you to the police – I really don't. If I do, you will be locked up for a long time, just like Martin here said. You know Martin used to work at a women's jail." Layla sighed. "Oh dear, the stories he could tell you; dreadful, simply dreadful."

Martin grinned.

"Yes, I know all about you. Only this time, my sweet little pet, you're not going to talk your way out of it quite so easily."

What did this woman know about her? It wasn't important. Elise needed to get out of there. Yes, she would use the same little trick she had used time and time before. She began to cry. Sad, soft, little sobs at first that made her whole body jerk with each gasp. Then, burying her face in her quivering hands, she stooped over, and let the tears flow freely. "Please, it was all a mistake! I've never done anything like this before! I don't know what came over me. Please don't report me. Please!" she begged, stopping only briefly to glance up and see if her little performance was having the desired effect.

Was it really her fault she had to have nice things? It had been the same ever since she was a little girl. She would see something she wanted; she would have to have it, and so she would take it. Of course, there were many occasions when she had been caught. She would beg and plead. Her soft brown curls would fall down over her sweet face, and tears would well up in her big blue eyes. She would cry, promise never to do it again, and all would be forgiven. Since then she had grown up into a lovely looking young woman; nothing else, however, had changed.

The truth was, Layla knew nothing of her or the cunning little games she so often played, but she knew Elise's kind. Pretty little things who schemed and planned, who were conniving and conceited, and believed they could get away with anything with anyone. What sweet little fools they were.

Layla moved closer and slipped an arm around the girl's shoulders. "Now then, there's no need to cry. I'm sure we can come to some kind of arrangement here," she explained, pulling Elise closer to comfort her, letting the side of the girl's face rest against her breasts. Wet tears began to mark the fine fabric of Layla's bouse, making little transparent patches and revealing parts of her lacey bra.

The security guard grinned and ogled the two women, licking his lips and staring unashamedly, as if by blinking he might miss some salacious little detail.

"But, I have no money, and I've been unemployed for the last two weeks."

Layla smiled. Those were the words she liked to hear. Releasing Elise, then standing up, she told her, "No money?

Oh, you silly little thing you, who said anything about money?" Then, turning to Martin, added. "Leave us."

He made an audible sigh, shook his head and shuffled out of the room.

"Please sit down. I'm Layla Starr. You may call me... well, we can sort that out later. And you are?"

"Elise; my name's Elise, Ma'am."

"Well, Elise, you know it just so happens I'm looking for someone..." she hesitated for a moment before continuing, "...a personal assistant. No, not at the shop here, at my home. It's not difficult work at all, really. In fact, I'm sure it would suit a pretty little girl like you. The pay is good, in fact, you'll find that I can be a very generous, to those who please me." Layla smiled as she sat on the edge of her desk then, leaning over and placing her hand on Elise's knee, she added in a whispered tone, "You do understand what I am saying, don't you?"

"Oh, yes, I understand completely. Thank you so much."

Elise wiped her face with back of her hand while nodding and trying not to grin. "I did it again!" she told herself triumphantly. "Working for Layla will be so easy. Obviously, what I've heard is true, she's got a thing for women – well isn't that just going to be a sweet bonus. Why, if I please her, she may even give me that skirt! Sure, she will. Oh, she seems so nice. Yes, I can use that to my advantage too."

Layla slowly pushed her fingers between Elise's legs, gently rubbing them up and down the inside of her thighs before pulling away. "Of course, it will be a live-in position. I have a very large house. You can have your own room."

As Layla explained the details, Elise liked the sound of it more and more.

"Can you move in tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course."

The following day, Elise packed her bags.

Chapter 2 - Elise's New Home.

As she sat in the back of the taxi, she felt excited about her new position. "You'll have your own room, and my maid will take care of all your personal needs", she had been told. A maid! "Please bring only your essentials," Layla also told her, with a disdainful look at her worn cotton skirt and blouse. "I will take care of your wardrobe and anything else you need." New clothes! And maybe some leatherwear too!

"Isn't it funny how quickly things can turn around," she mused, gazing out of the window. They were on an open road now, quite a way out of town and driving through a lush rural area. When the taxi eventually turned off the main road, Elise was astonished by what she saw. At the end of the long driveway was a house, more like a mansion, made of stone rather than bricks, with a huge wooden door at the front covered by a portico held up by tall white pillars. On either side rose bushes bloomed with scarlet flowers.

"Are you certain this is the right address?" she questioned the driver.

"Yes, Miss. I'm quite sure."

Elise grinned and almost giggled with delight. She paid him, then grabbing her bags, slipped out of the car. "Keep the change!" she called over her shoulder before hurrying up to the front door. She lifted the doorknocker and hit it down a couple of times then waited. Her heart raced as she began to imagine what might be inside. How many rooms were there? What would her room look like? Was there a billiard room? A ballroom? "Daddy always called me his little princess, and now I'm going to be living like one," she thought.

The creaking of the door opening interrupted her reminiscing. A tall black woman with short-cropped hair and dressed in a maid's uniform looked her up and down. "You must be the new girl. Nice, very nice," she smirked before standing to one side and allowing Elise to enter.

"Yes, that's right, I'm Elise Madison. I'm the new personal assistant to the mistress of this house house," she replied, and this woman with the smug attitude had better not forget it or the fact that she was just the maid!

"My name is Rose Redpepper; you may call me Rose. Your room is upstairs. Please follow me, Miss Elise."

A Rose by any other name could not have looked more hard-faced. It was difficult to estimate her age – certainly over thirty. Although not a heavy woman, Elise couldn't help but notice her firm muscular arms. "She's got a slave's build," Elise thought condescendingly. "She should have been born in the nineteenth century and been put out to work in the cotton fields."

The marbled hallway was spacious and bare but for a small table with a large arrangement of fresh flowers set in the middle. To one side, Elise noted a sitting room. Several other doors also led off from this area; however, they were all closed. A wide and ornate wooden staircase opposite the front door was carpeted down the center with a plush red pile.

Rose lead Elise up to her room without another word or an offer to carry her bags. Elise made a mental note that she would definitely have to set some ground rules with this woman, but for now she was just simply too excited to care.

"This will be your room, Miss Elise. Mistress Layla thought you would enjoy the view from the balcony over the gardens."

Elise blinked. The room was almost as big as the entire flat she had been renting in town. The walls were painted a soft cream and matched the lovely satin pillows and covers on the four poster bed. A large dressing table dominated another wall, and a few other pieces of furniture had been placed around the room: a velvet upholstered chair with matching footstool and a small table, again adorned by a vase of fresh flowers. On the opposite side from the bed, through an open door, next to a large wardrobe, Elise glimpsed the shiny cream-colored tiles of a bathroom. Her very own 'ensuite'!

Unable to contain her excitement any longer, she dropped her bags and ran over to bed, throwing herself on it and letting out a loud squeal of delight as she kicked her legs.

"I see you approve of your room, Miss Elise," Rose observed without the slightest sign of emotion. "Mistress Layla will be home in a couple of hours. You will need to bathe and be ready for her. You will find everything you need in your bathroom." And with that, she turned and left.

For several minutes Elise just lay on the bed grinning. Certainly she was aware of what her new position would almost certainly entail – sex, sex with Layla. "Little Elise is going to be paid to have sex with lovely Layla Starr," she said out loud and then laughed. She liked the sound of that. "Little Elise is going to be paid to have sex with lovely Layla Starr... " She softly chanted it over and over again, then rolling off then bed, she floated into the bathroom to begin preparing, pouring copious quantities of the expensive bath oil into the water.

She undressed and stood in front of the full-length mirror, cupping her breasts, examining every delicate curve of her sweet young body before gently rubbing her pink nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. Within a very short time, she felt herself becoming aroused. Elise pouted at her image in the mirror then blew herself a kiss. "You're such a hot little bitch; you know that, don't you?" She walked over to the bath and gingerly tested the temperature with her big toe before stepping into the warm water. Once her whole body had been immersed, she closed her eyes and let one hand slip down between her thighs. She moaned and gently rubbed her middle and index fingers over either side of her throbbing clit. Then, spreading her legs a little wider, she gasped and plunged one inside her throbbing pussy.

"How are you doing there, Miss Elise?"

Startled, Elise immediately opened her eyes and looked up to see Rose standing next to the bath, licking her full lips and peering down. With her hands on her hips and her legs spread wide, Rose seemed some how even taller than she actually was. Elise glared up at her.

Placing one hand across her bare breasts, she immediately pulled her hand from between her thighs and drew her legs up to her chest. "Do you mind! I would much prefer you didn't disturb me while I am bathing!"

Rose pouted and gave her a look of mock disappointment, then retreated without replying.

Elise felt frustrated and embarrassed, and having now lost the urge to satisfy herself, sat up and climbed out of the bath. She dried herself off with a big fluffy towel then walked back into the bedroom. Her bags were gone. She walked over to the wardrobe and looked inside; it was empty. The drawers too contained absolutely nothing. She hurried back to the bathroom but soon realized the clothes she had just taken off were gone also.

"Rose? Rose? Where are my things?" she began shouting as she moved towards the door. She grasped the knob, but it was locked. "Rose!" she shouted again, beating her fist on the door. "Open this damned door!"

She stopped to listen and heard footsteps outside, followed by the clinking of the lock. The door began to open; however, Elise quickly stopped it, leaving just enough of a gap to speak through. "Where are my things? I want them now!" she demanded.

Rose stood there for a moment then, placing her large hand on the door, pushed it wide open, forcing her way inside past Elise. She walked directly over to the dresser and picked up a large wooden hairbrush.

Elise stormed over behind her, "What do you think you're doing? Put that damned thing down and go and find me something to wear!"

Rose looked up and smiled at her own reflection in the mirror then turned around and grabbed hold of Elise's arm, dragging her over to the bed. She sat down and pulled the naked girl across her lap. Elise struggled and fought to free herself; however, the larger and older woman's strength overpowered her completely as she rested one arm firmly across her back and shoulders. Rose held her there in that position while she admired Elise's smooth white bottom; then, she raised the brush and brought it down on the soft sweet flesh. The shock of being slapped and the sudden burning sting made Elise jerk and cry out, but before she had a chance to protest or attempt to squirm free again, another stinging blow seared her tender skin. Again and again, Rose struck her little victim until her pretty and pert cheeks were covered with angry red welts. Tears now flowed freely down Elise's face.

"Please, please no more! Just tell me what you want?"

Rose grinned and carelessly tossed the hairbrush to the floor. She always found it so satisfying to break in a new girl. "Rose wants you to be a good girl. Now that's not asking too much is it?"

"I'll be good. I'll be a really good girl."

Grabbing a handful of Elise's hair, Rose then forced the sobbing girl off her lap and on the floor kneeling in front of her. She kept her firm grip while she explained the situation. "Mistress Layla has been extremely generous with you. You know she could easily have reported you to police and had you locked up for a long time. Do you think you would get a room like this in prison? Well?"

Elise's bottom felt hot and sore, and her bare breasts heaved with each sob, but she managed to mumble, "No."

"No, what?"

Elise didn't understand what was expected of her, however Rose was quick to explain, jerking the girl's head back further and leaning down as if wanting to make herself more clearly understood, "No, Rose. You will call me 'Rose', and Mistress Layla, you will call, 'Mistress Layla'".

"Yes, Rose."

"Do you think you would be in the service of a lovely Mistress like Layla in a prison?"

"No, Rose."

"Well then, at last you're beginning to understand then, aren't you?"

Rose pursed her lips and gave Elise's head another quick jerk to reinforce what she had just been told.

"Yes, Rose. Sorry, Rose."

Releasing Elise's hair, Rose stood up and slipped her hand under her white apron, into her pocket, to produce what appeared to be a black, leather, dog collar.

"Put this on. Buckle it around your neck," Rose told her, holding it in front of Elise.

"But it's – it's a dog collar!"

Rose took a deep breath. She tightened both her fists around the leather, then, holding just the buckle, she lunged at Elise and slashed it across one side of the girl's face.

Elise cried out as it hit her soft cheek with such force that it sent her tumbling sideways onto the floor. She held her hand to her to her stinging cheek and began sobbing again while remaining collapsed on the floor.

Rose tossed the collar onto the floor and walked out, closing and locking the door behind her.

Chapter 3 - Layla and Rose.

Rose had always been there. First, as Edward's housekeeper looking after him, and then, after he and Layla had married, as a trusted servant to them both. Soon after Layla had moved into the mansion she and Rose had become close friends rather than mistress and maid. Layla had lost both her parents at a young age, and since Rose was more than ten years her senior, it just seemed so natural for the older woman to assume the positions of care giver and confidant. Many mornings the two women would sit at the kitchen table, sharing a pot of tea and a chat. "

"Rose, I'm so lucky," Layla gushed one day as she sipped her tea. "Edward is the most wonderful man any woman could possibly hope for. I love him so much."

Rose simply smiled.

Many people assumed Layla had married the much older Edward for his money, but they had been wrong. Layla had been close to her late father, finding and falling in love with Edward filled a void she had lived with for a long time. Of course, she had known many men before her husband: younger men who had served to amuse and entertain her briefly. Younger men, who had none of the knowledge and experience of how to fully satisfy a woman's needs. Younger men, whom she had become bored her so very easily. Once Edward had shown her the true meaning of sensual pleasure, there had simply been no doubt in her mind that he was the one for her

When, after five years of blissful marriage, Edward had died suddenly of a massive heart attack in the arms of pretty young prostitute, it had been Rose who stood tall and supported Layla through the heartbreak. Of course Layla realized it wasn't Edwards fault. After all he was just a man, and men have their weaknesses. No, it was that wretched little whore who had seduced him – it was her fault – she was the cause of Edward's demise.

Late one evening, almost a year after her husband's death, Layla sat with Rose on the sofa wearing just her robe. She rested her head on her maid's lap and, sobbing softly, confided to her, "Rose, I will never let another man touch me. No man can ever replace my Edward."

Rose smiled and leaning down took Layla's hand and brushed it gently over her lips. At first, Layla had been surprised. Her maid had never shown her that kind of physical affection before, and so she immediately sat upright. Then, as Rose looked into her eyes and gently stroked the side of her face, she felt herself being drawn towards those strong and protective arms. It began with a comforting embrace then, as Rose let her fingers slip down under Layla's robe to caress her quivering breasts just like Edward used to, everything felt so natural.

"Open your legs, Layla. Yes, just like that. Do everything I tell you, and everything will be just fine," she whispered.

Layla sniffed back a tear, and laying back, she let her long slim legs drop open. Yes, Rose would fix everything. Rose would heal her hurt. Rose always knew what to do.

"There, now. Doesn't that feel nice?" Rose slid her long brown fingers up between Layla's creamy thighs, stroking them with her smooth and soothing hand.

Layla closed her eyes and mewed. It had been so long since she had been touched like that – so long since she had felt that sweet burning desire deep between her legs. She slid her body farther down the sofa, letting her robe fall open to expose her erect pink nipples. Rose cupped one hand over a pale breast, then, leaning down, she kissed it gently before sucking the hard nipple. Layla remained relaxed and compliant, and so Rose gingerly pulled the robe completely open, to gaze upon her mistress's lovely body. It was as if Rose was admiring a special present she had been waiting a long time to to unwrap. Smiling, she observed the fine brush of hair covering the sweet treasure. Yes, it was a fine gift in deed.

Rose had promised Edward she would always look after his wife, and she had every intention of keeping her word. She would care for Layla in every way, especially her precious pussy. Yes, that had to be protected. Rose saw the way men looked at her lovely mistress. Bastards! Even at the funeral, when they had hugged Layla and pretended to comfort her, Rose knew what they really wanted. Now, Rose would show her she didn't need a man's cock any more.

Rose ran her wet tongue over her upper lip then placed her hands on the inside of Layla's thighs to open her legs wider. She pressed her mouth down onto her mistress's soft petals and began to gently lap up her feminine wetness. Her nectar tasted just as Rose had always imagined it would – too good for any man in her mistress's life now. None of them would taste that sweetness if Rose had anything to do with it.

It had been a long time since Layla had felt such a heated womanly desire, and her body soon writhed and twisted but with a new kind of desire she had never experienced before. All her heartache and pain began to wash away, and she became thoroughly immersed in the sweet erotic pleasure that only a woman is capable of givng.

Gently, Rose lapped at her folds before sucking on her mistress's swollen clit. Within a short time, Layla cried out, and her whole body quivered with enjoyment she hadn't experienced since losing Edward. Raising her hips instinctively to meet the warm wetness of Rose's tongue and mouth, Layla climaxed long and hard in a rush of heated excitement. For several minutes afterwards, she lay there with her eyes closed while Rose watched her breasts rise and fall with each laboured breath. Soon, Layla drifted into an exhausted sleep. Rose smile and gently pulled a warm blanket up over her before retreating.

Rose never touched her mistress again, and they never discussed what had happened between them that evening. From then on, however, Layla grew strong and powerful in ways she could never have envisaged. She knew what she wanted now and, true to her word, she never let another man touch her again.

Chapter Four – Elise Gets Shaved.

Later, when Elise had climbed onto the bed and tucked her knees up to her chest, sleep had come easily, regardless of the fact that her poor little bottom and face still hurt.

When she awoke, it was to the sound of female voices – Layla and Rose – discussing her as they stood on either side of the bed, looking down at her.

"I have a feeling this one is going to be trouble," Rose warned.

"Perhaps, but I'm sure you can have her trained in no time, Rose. I have complete confidence in you."

Then, leaning down and stroking the side of Elise's face with the back of her hand, Layla noted, "You're really rather a pretty little thing without all that awful make-up, aren't you?" Then, inspecting the girl's face more closely, "Oh dear, did Rose do that to you? You must have been a very naughty; Rose here has so much patience, she really does. She amazes me at times."

Elise tried to sit up, but quickly realized her wrists and ankles had been cuffed and chained to the corners of the bed, and a collar secured around her neck. And, she still had no clothes on! "Please release me?" she begged, straining to lift her head. "I promise I will do what ever you want me to."

"All in good time, little one, all in good time. Now, Rose, all that hair covering her lovely pussy, that will simply have to go. You may shave her now."

Elise was stunned. She fell back limp on the bed, for now at least she would have to accept her fate. If Layla wanted her shaved, that's how it would be. What other choice did she have lying there naked, chained, and vulnerable? Yes, for now, it would be best to co-operate.

Rose disappeared into the bathroom, returning a short time later with a tray. On it were a bowl of warm water, soap, towels, and a razor. She placed it down on the bed beside Elise. After wetting her hands, Rose began rubbing the soap between her fingers. It made light squelching sounds. She then slid one hand down between Elise's open legs and began covering her genital area with the sweet-smelling lather. An odd mixture of embarrassment and arousal filled Elise's head with confusion. She enjoyed the soothing sensation, but then when she saw Rose reach for the razor, she immediately felt herself stiffen. She had never been shaved before and certainly not by another woman – and a black woman!

"You enjoy doing this; don't you, Rose," Layla quipped. "Nice and close now, and be sure to get every little bit; I don't want any stubble left."

Slowly and carefully, with an almost surgical like precision, Rose scraped the blade over Elise's soft folds. Elise felt sure no-one had ever taken such an intense interest in her genitals before. Rose leaned down and stared intently, checking just in case she had missed the minutest spot. Then, when she was satisfied the girl's gentials were completely bare, she took a towel and gently patted it over the freshly shaven area.

"There, now, that's much better," Layla purred, smiling and running her fingers over Elise's mound. "Have her ready in two hours for dinner, Rose."

"Yes, Mistress Layla. Shall I release her now?"

"No, leave her. I think it will do the girl good to be restrained a little longer. It will give her time to think things over."

For more than an hour Elise lay in the slowly dimming room. She couldn't be exactly sure how long it had been or what time it was – late in the afternoon certainly. She began to feel hungry. She had been so excited about coming to this place she hadn't eaten since breakfast. Maybe if she co-operated things would be as Layla had promised, rather pleasant, but what about Rose? Already that woman was beginning to aggravate Elise. Her smugness, her arrogance, her lack of respect! "So Layla's into a little bit of kinky play – well sure, if she wants to tie me up from time to time, I guess I can deal with that," she told herself. A cool breeze blew in through the large open window, rustling the flimsy curtains and gently caressing her swollen clit, now protruding from between her smooth folds. Elise sighed and closed her eyes. She wished her hands were free.

Chapter Five: Dinner for Two.

Elise sat at the clear glass-topped dining room table. Layla sat opposite, dressed in long black evening gown, her dark hair pulled up in a knot at the back of her head and her neck adorned in a lovely diamond and pearl necklace. Elise would also have looked rather formally dressed, in the flowing red dress she had been given to wear, if it hadn't been for the collar secured around here neck. For several minutes the two remained silent. Then Layla spoke, "Good girl, I see you are a fast learner, or, can it just be that Rose is just a very competent trainer?" Layla wondered aloud, looking across at the sweet young girl with the down cast eyes down sitting opposite her.

Elise wasn't sure if this was a rhetorical question or not, she glanced up and then quickly down again.

"Answer your mistress, girl," Rose, who was standing to one side, told her.

"Yes, Mistress Layla, she's teaching me all kinds of things."

Elise couldn't be sure if Rose was a 'good trainer' or not, however, she could be certain of one thing – Rose was a sadistic bitch who wouldn't hesitate to punish her for the slightest misdemeanour.

~~~

"Get up," Rose had told Elise upon returning to her room earlier that day as she unlocked the cuffs that secured her hands.

Elise felt stiff after being in the same position for more than an hour as she struggled to sit up before rubbing her wrists.

"I want to go now," she told Rose. "It doesn't matter whether I took that stupid skirt or not, you can't keep me here."

Rose ignored her and continued unlocking the cuffs around her ankles.

"Didn't you hear me? I said, I want to go now."

Rose finished, then looking directly at Elise, she smiled as she produced her leather crop. Holding it between her fists, she flexed it and hissed. "Don't you understand? You're not going anywhere, you stupid little bitch!" Before Elise had a chance to reply, Rose slashed it across the girl's delicate nipples.

Immediately Elise cried out, clutching at her breasts as sobbing, she collapsed onto the bed in a foetal position. "You can't treat me like this!"

"Get down on the floor, slut!" Rose was losing patience. "I said, get down on the floor."

A full ten seconds elapsed. That was too much time wasted for Rose. She leaned over the cowering girl and applied several more welts to her back and ass.

Each time, Elise cried out as the burning lash of the crop licked at her tender flesh.

"Now listen, and listen good, you little bitch. Your time here will be a whole lot easier when you learn to do as you are told. You will kneel, not sit, unless you are instructed otherwise. You will keep your legs spread wide at all times. You will not touch that pretty little pussy of yours without permission. Obey the rules, and you will only be whipped for your mistress's pleasure and amusement; disobey, and it will give me great pleasure to punish you." Rose smiled and continued, "Do you have any questions? "

Elise sniffed a couple of times and looked up, "How long will I be kept here, Rose?"

"A week, a month, a year, who knows? It's entirely up to Mistress Layla. The last one was here… let me think – six months. "

"You mean there have been others before me?"

"Well, of course there have been, you stupid little whore. You didn't really think you were something special did you? Surely, you didn't think you were the first stray cat Mistress Layla has dragged home, did you?"

~~~

Now sitting opposite Layla, Elise began to wonder exactly how many.

"You may serve now, Rose."

Dinner was a very pleasant surprise: beef consommé, filet mignon with a light salad, followed by fresh strawberries and cream. Layla ate slowly, sipping her wine and watching Elise gobble hers down. It had been a long time since the girl had eaten so well.

When they had finished, Layla questioned Elise about her former living arrangements. Had she cleared out all her belongs? Had she finalized the lease? Did she need money to clear it? Elise, conscious of Rose standing near by with her crop in hand, answered each one simply and honestly.

Later, as Rose cleared away the last dishes, Layla inquired, "You haven't seen all the house yet, have you, little one?"

"No, not yet, Mistress Layla."

"Well, then, come; I will show you around now." She smiled and stood up. Elise did the same, but immediately Rose glared at her and began patting her crop in the palm of her hand.

"No, it's alright, Rose. The girl may walk next to me."

Elise gave Rose a quick, snide glance.

They left the dinning room and walked out into a long hallway adorned on both sides with many larger-than-life paintings. Most were of erotic scenes: men with women, women with women, and others featured three, four, or more naked bodies twisting and pressing against each other in orgies of pleasure and pain.

Elise stared wide-eyed at the unusual artwork.

Layla stopped in front of one of the portraits. It depicted a beautiful young girl, totally naked, with her hands bound behind her back, performing oral sex on a handsome older man while he lay back on a velvet couch.

"My late husband had an eye for beauty," Layla told Elise, waving her hand about. "He just simply couldn't resist beautiful things." She smiled and seemed to drift into her own thoughts for a moment. "Come, I want to show you my special room now, little one."

Elise glanced down at her erect nipples pressing through the fine fabric of her dress as much from the arousal of what she was seeing as the cool evening air. "This is her way of seducing me," Elise thought smugly. "Will she take me here or maybe in one of the bedrooms?"

At the end of the hallway they came to a closed door. Layla opened it and stood to one side. Elise stepped past, but halted immediately, shocked by what she saw. She gasped and blinked; could this really be what it appeared to be?

Chapter Six: The Dungeon.

The room was dimly lit with only candles giving it an eerie glow. Elise wriggled her noise; it smelled odd as if it needed a good airing. Chains and ropes hung on the walls, and several odd looking pieces of equipment were partially visible in the shadowy corners. It was a dungeon!

"I don't want to be here; I don't like this at all," Elise protested. However, before she could turn around, a pair of strong hands had gripped her from behind. One clamped over her mouth, and the other slid around her shoulders and chest like a strap of iron. She knew immediately by their strength that they belonged to Rose. She began to struggle wildly, but her efforts were futile. Rose forced her inside the room, shoving her from behind. Layla followed them and slammed the door shut.

"Struggle all you want, slut," Rose told her, smirking and forcing the helpless girl to where she required her to be.

Elise squinted through tears in an attempt to see more clearly, but it was all happening too fast; it was flashing before her like a terrible dream. She felt her face pushed down on something firm and smooth. Leather - yes, it was a leather bench of some kind. Hands were all over her body, then her arms were pulled out in front of her and her wrists cuffed to something solid. She gasped as her ass was slapped, and she was told, "Spread your legs slut!" Her legs - yes, they were still free. She kicked back wildly, but her efforts were rewarded with more stinging lashes to her ass and the back of her legs. More tears began to run down her cheeks. She relented and moved her feet apart. Hands were on her again – something was being pushed between her ankles… a bar of some kind. Now, unable to move her legs either, she lay face down on the leather-covered bench, helpless to do anything but wait.

"I thought you might give us a little bit of a fight," Rose quipped as she moved around in front of the bench, grabbing Elise by the hair and jerking her head up. "You're a fiery little slut, aren't you?"

Elise was about to answer when a loud ripping sound made her gasp. The silky fabric slipped down, and she realised her ass was now completely exposed.

Then Layla's voice: "Look at her, Rose; she's wet already. Didn't I tell you I thought this one was a hot little whore, and I was right!" Layla rubbed her hand between Elise's leg, feeling her soft clean folds and swollen clit, before lifting her hand and showing it to Rose. "She's a whore who needs to be punished, just like they all do." Leaning over Elise's body she whispered, "You want some cock don't you, little Elise? That's all any of you are after."

Elise was confused, then as Layla walked around in front of her and held up a large rubber cock, she understood. Layla grinned, then placed the toy to her mouth and took a long, slow lick down its shaft.

"You want some cock so badly, don't you?" Layla waved at Elise. " Well, answer me, girl!"

"Yes, Mistress Layla."

However, instead of pacifying her, the reply seemed to anger Layla. She scowled and then used the rubber phallus to slap the side of Elise's face.

"You whores are all the same."

Elise cried out in shock as much as pain.

"Look at her; look how her mouth gapes open for that cock. Give it to her," Rose instructed.

The cock was large, larger than any Elise had experienced. When Layla rammed into her mouth, it was more than she felt she could deal with, and she gasped for breath. This amused the two women, and they laughed out loud. Elise coughed and spluttered as the saliva-coated cock was removed.

"What's the matter, whore, is this too much for you? I thought all whores loved a big cock."

Through loud sobs, Elise begged, "Please, no more. Please, let me go!"

"Oh, so you've had enough now, have you? Enough cock? I don't think so. Whores like you have never had enough. You want more, yes, always more!" Layla hissed.

Layla walked around behind Elise, who strained to see but was secured too tightly. Fingers were between her legs again, feeling and fondling her most private parts.

"Since this is what you want to much, take it, little whore!" And with that, Layla pressed the rubber cock against the girl's vagina and rammed it inside her.

Elise screamed. Layla pushed deep, only to pull it back again and repeat the action. Obscene squelching noises made Layla laugh as she plunged in and then out of Elise's wet folds. "Take it all whore!"

Tiny beads of sweat began to form on Elise's face and body. Helpless to do anything, she whimpered softly and waited for it all to finish.

Through half-closed eyes and tears, Elise could see Rose walking to the back wall where an assortment of whips hung. She selected one and returned, handing it to Layla.

"No pleasure without pain," she told Elise, raising the flogger and lashing it down across the girl's bare bottom.

It felt sharp, cutting into her tender flesh then burning and leaving several blistered welts, but to her Elise's amazement it caused her whole body to shiver with heated desire. Soon her own sticky wetness was trickling down the insides of her legs. An intense and heated excitement like nothing she had experienced before enveloped her.

Pleasure and pain! Elise's head spun with confusion and mixed emotions as she writhed in perverted excitement, each lash bringing her to new heights of sexual gratification, each cry releasing a raw animal desire inside her, and each little quiver of her greedy cunt, making her hungry for more.

"Please, please," she begged silently, but then questioning herself – "Please stop? Hell, no!"

Within minutes it became too much for her to bear. Her cunt pulsated and her body convulsed, as opened mouthed and panting like a bitch in heat, she gasped then screamed, and a feeling of totally glorious self pleasure washed over her.

Layla grinned down at her; she was pleased. "I like this one," she told Rose.

Chapter seven - The Preparation.

Elise stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror and ran her hands over the smooth black stockings she wore. Her hair had been tied into a tight little knot at the back of her head. The black silk corset she wore was too tight, and already it felt uncomfortable as it pinched her waist. The shoes were high and spiked, and black also. Tiny padlocks ensured they could not be removed until Rose unlocked them. Her make-up felt thick and caked on, and the perfume she wore already had her head in a spin – Rose had had been more than generous with her application of both.

Earlier in the day, Elise awoke to sunlight streaming through her bedroom window when Rose drew the curtains back. Sitting up in bed, she stretched and then pulled the sheets up around herself. She wasn't entirely sure why, but she just didn't feel comfortable being naked around Rose.

"I've prepared you some breakfast, Miss Elise. I hope you will enjoy it." Rose walked over and placed a tray on the side of the bed, then lifted the cover. It smelled good: bacon, eggs, and toast on one plate, freshly prepared fruit on another, and a steaming cup of tea.

"I'm not hungry, Rose, " Elise said, pouting and rolling over to look away.

"The cleaning staff will be here today, so you're going to have to stay in your room for most of today." Rose indicated to a large pile of magazines sitting on the dresser, "I've brought you some reading material. There are a few catalogues there too. You may choose what-ever you want from them, and I'll arrange to have it all delivered here." Then as if it was an afterthought, Rose added, "Of course, you'll choose nothing red."

Elise rolled back over and gave a little frown, "But I thought Mistress Layla liked me in red."

Rose repeated herself, "nothing in red," then she left.

Immediately Elise threw back the sheets and hurried over to the door. She turned the knob; it was locked. Resigning herself to her day, she walked back over to the bed, laid back, and began picking at the fruit as she pondered the previous evening.

Could she really admit to herself that she actually enjoyed that treatment? Her bottom and poor little pussy were still sore! And yet, she couldn't deny that that was the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced. How could this be so? Once again her head spun in confusion. And Rose, why was she being so nice this morning? What did she want? Most of all Elise wondered about Layla – yes, beautiful and intriguing Layla. "L-Lay-la!" she said the name out loud.

Her day dragged, interrupted only once when Rose brought her lunch. Elise, however, managed to amuse herself for most of it by choosing a whole new wardrobe from the catalogues she had been given. She wondered how much it would all cost? Certainly more than she could ever have been able to afford. Still, Rose had told her , "Choose what ever you want," – and so she had.

Late in the afternoon Rose returned. "You will need to be bathed and be prepared in one hour," she told Elise.

"Prepared?"

"Yes, Mistress Layla has invited a few friends over for a little dinner party tonight, and she would like you to attend."

Elise liked the sound of that. "I'll be sweet. I'll be polite. Above all, I'll be sexy and seductive," she thought smugly, wondering exactly who might be invited. "Yes, I'll show her and that black bitch how good I can be."

"Quickly now," Rose told her, pointing with her crop towards the bathroom.

Elise stood up and waited for the maid to leave; however, Rose just stood there. "I can take care of myself."

"Oh, but I insist," Rose replied.

"That's ridiculous, I don't…"

"I said, I insist. Now move that sweet lily white ass of yours, girl." Rose raised her crop and swung it through the air. It made a whooshing sound before landing on Elise's bare bottom.

"Arh!"

"I really get so tired of telling you twice," Rose told her, delivering a couple more quick slaps. Elise jumped. Her face contorted, and she cried out again. That seemed like enough to convince her that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to be watched while she bathed. Elise's bottom lip quivered, partly in pain, partly in anger. She rubbed her ass cheeks with her hands, then turned and stormed into the bathroom.

When the tub was full, Rose indicated for Elise to get in. This time the girl did what was expected of her. Closing her eyes, she immersed herself down into the warm water and tried to forget about Rose standing there. Elise felt a hand on her breast! It Rose, of course.

"I will take care of you," she said, smirking and gently brushing the back of her fingers over one of Elise's nipples.

"But I can wash myself!"

"Oh, but I insist," Rose told her, cupping a little water in her hand and letting it trickle down between the girl's young breasts.

Elise took a deep breath and tried to relax. Being bathed, by another woman, was a new experience for her. Perhaps she may have enjoyed it if Layla had been kneeling next to the bath instead.

Rose had almost finished when she smiled and rubbed her hand down the girl's belly, forcing her fingers between her closed thighs.

Elise was mortified. How dare this woman… this black woman… this maid… touch her in such an intimate manner! She wanted to protest, but the threat of the crop forced her to rethink the situation. Instead, Elise gritted her teeth and allowed herself to be fondled. Rose took full advantage, squeezing the girl's delicate clit between her fingers, then sniggering when she was unable to keep from crying out in pain.

"There you like that don't you, little slut?" Rose purred.

Elise ignored her.

Rose pinched her once more, then leaning down, hissed in her ear, "I said, you like that don't you, little slut?"

Elise cried out again, then pursed her lips before replying, "Yes, Rose."

"Rose knows what little sluts like."

Elise braced herself, waiting for the ordeal to end. Yes, she enjoyed being touched by another woman, and yes, confusing as it was for her, she had indeed discovered the sweet pleasure of pain last night, but pleasure only by the hand of the lovely Layla, not by that of this harpy . For a moment, Elise closed her eyes and managed to block Rose out of her mind, letting her thoughts drift – she remembered the dress her mistress had worn last night, and how shiny her dark hair looked, how her perfume smelled so sweet and intoxicating…. Oh yes…. Oh no… now what was that insolent maid doing? Elise was jolted back to the present as Rose pushed a finger deep inside her vagina.

"What's the matter bitch, you ain't never been finger fucked before?" Rose enquired, laughing and then, mercifully, removing her hand. "Alright, we haven't got time for games now. Get out and dry yourself off"

For the first time since meeting Rose, Elise happily obeyed her. She patted herself dry, then wrapping the towel around herself, walked out into the bedroom.

"You will put this on," Rose told her, holding up a black lace corset.

Elise let the towel drop away, then exchanged it with Rose for the corset. She turned away and stepped into it, pulling it up over her legs and body, then cupping her breasts and giving them a gentle shake to ensure they weren't caught at all.

"Here, let me help you with that." Rose grabbed hold of the laces at the back and began to pull.

"Ouch! Not so tight!" Elise protested.

"This is how Mistress Layla likes it. Now the stocking."

Elise moved to sit down on the bed.

"No, stand, I want to watch you put them on."

Elise's eyes narrowed – How dare this woman treat her this way! She grabbed the stocking from the maid's hands and slowly rolled them up her legs, smoothing them with her hands, while avoiding all eye contact with the other woman.

"Oh, yes, you do have good legs don't you, little whore?" Rose grinned and moved closer to Elise, rubbing both her hands over the girls thighs. She tilted her head to one side and flicked her tongue out to almost touch Elise's mouth.

Elise was disgusted and immediately stepped back and made a little sniffing sound. "What else am I to wear?"

"Oh, how very forgetful of me, Miss Elise. Why, of course we can't have you going down to dinner looking like that now can we?" Rose sounded sugar sweet as she stared down at the girl's semi naked body. She walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out a pair of black high-heeled shoes. "You'll wear these too."

"Yes, but where's my dress? There will be other guests. I can't possibly go down …"

Rose laughed, "You are dressed, slut. Now sit down I need to take care of your hair and face."

Elise's head was full of questions; however, for the time being, she decided it would be best to just do as she was told. She sat down on the end of the bed and allowed Rose to make her ready.

Now fully 'prepared' and gazing at herself in the mirror, she began to feel extremely uncomfortable in the knowledge that this was all she would be allowed to wear tonight.

Rose finished tidying up, then waving the crop at Elise, announced. "Well, it's time to go and greet the guests, Miss Elise. And you had better be on your best behavior."

Swallowing hard, Elise stood up and followed Rose down the stairs and into the hallway. 'So what if Layla wants me dressed like this,' she thought as she stared down at the floor. ' So what if she wants to have a few ladies over for diner, and I'm one of them.'

They were about to enter the dinning room when a masculine voice from behind them spoke.

"Are you going to introduce me, Rose?"

Elise spun around to see a tall blond man wearing a dinner suit and a smug grin, leaning up against the wall and drawing back on a cigarette. She blushed, and attempted to cover her sex with her hands. Her face burned with embarrassment. She felt extremely uncomfortable standing there almost naked, in front of this suave and well-dressed man. He stubbed his cigarette out in a nearby pot plant and hurried to catch up with the two women.

"Good evening, Patrick," Rose said without smiling.

Chapter eight – Master Patrick.

The following chapter has been edited by Curtis. Thank You, Curtis.

Patrick; tall, blond, handsome, thirty-something, Patrick. Women threw themselves at this man. How many? He'd lost count. Beautiful women – so many, that did it really matter if he broke a few hearts? There was really only one he wanted, and he couldn't have her. Layla, Layla Starr.

Sure, Patrick believed he knew why Layla had married Edward when she could have had him; it was for his money! He couldn't really hold that against her. "Why, I would have done the same thing, given the opportunity," he told himself. Now, however, that she was free again, he couldn't quite understand why she chose to ignore his advances. "She's just playing hard to get, that's it. Fucking women, they'll do that to you."'

Layla still wanted him, he was certain of that. Yes, even at the funeral when he had held her close to comfort her, he knew it as her breasts rubbed up against him. She needed him. He just needed to convince her to come to him sooner rather than later. "Women need men; they're all the same; they need a good hard fucking," he knew that. "Some times they just don't realise what they really want, that's the problem, " Patrick would say. Patrick knew.

They had met a year prior to Layla's marriage. At first, she had seemed impressed with his charm and good looks, not to mention his stamina and virility. That, however, was before Edward had come on the scene.

"How could an old man like that satisfy a woman like Layla?" he often wondered. A woman with such a delicious sexual appetite, and a craving for the perverse and unusual. It amazed and frustrated Patrick that they seemed so happy together. "I tell you, it's all just a big fucking front," he would tell people, when the topic of the oddly matched Starrs arose at diner parties and such.

Patrick had been captivated by Layla from the moment they met one evening, at a mutual friend's house. When the hostess offered to call a taxi for Layla, that was an opportunity Patrick couldn't let pass. "Please, allow me to drive you home," he said, flashing her one of his famous smiles.

She accepted.

On the way home they had talked. Patrick told her all about himself. Of course, he had been aware of all those subtle messages. The way she crossed her legs. The way she smiled. Little things that he prided himself in noticing.

Upon arriving at her home, he had done the gentlemanly thing and walked around to open her car door, however as she stepped out he had pushed her down on the car hood, holding his body down on her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!"

"Just shut up bitch. I know what you want!" he told her, grabbing the inside of her right thigh, then rubbing his fingers up between her stockinged legs.

Layla struggled to free herself, then slapped him hard across his face.

For a fleeting moment, he was stunned. His cheek stung. He hesitated, lifting himself off her, then grinning, responded by pressing his lips down hard against hers, and forcing his tongue deep inside her warm mouth.

She thrashed about, trying to push him off, but his strength overpowered her. She bit down. A muffled cry escaped him and he immediately pulled away, reeling back in pain.

"That's what you get for trying to mess with Layla," she told him with a smug grin as she watched his face contort in pain.

Wiping his fingers across his lips, he realised the bitch had drawn blood. He took a deep breath. He lunged forward and grabbed the front of her blouse, ripping it wide open, to confirm what he already suspected; she wasn't wearing a bra.

Layla gasped and glared at him. Her body visibly tensed as she stood there, her naked breasts rising and falling with each hot breath. Then, using both hands, she grabbed at his belt and began franticly unbuckling it…

For the next six weeks they had been almost inseparable, then Edward appeared. Within weeks, she lost all interest in her latest young stud, who was left shattered and bewildered. "And just when she was beginning to learn exactly how to please me," he told himself.

Within a month she had married the older and wiser Edward. His sexual prowess had simply been no match for the younger and less experienced Patrick.

Chapter nine - The Dinner Party

Dinner was almost always a formal affair at the Starr's house. That was the way Edward had liked it, and that was the way Layla insisted it continue.

Rose opened the dinning room doors. Just as soon as she entered, the quiet hum of conversation that could be heard only moments earlier ceased as all eyes focused on the semi naked girl standing there, looking so awkward and uncomfortable.

Patrick slipped in behind them and took a seat between Layla and an attractive blonde with broad shoulder and heavy breasts who sat to her left. Next to the blonde, a rather small man sat looking down and fidgeting with his table napkin. Opposite them, a couple of women dressed in matching evening gowns sat close together. One leaned over and whispered to the other. The table had been set with fine china and silver cutlery, and a small arrangement of flowers and condiments had been place within reach of the guests. Everything looked as it should; only the end of the table had been left completely bare.

Layla stood up and announced. "Everyone, this is Elise. Come forward so we can all see you properly, dear."

Elise could feel her face burning. Unsure of what to do, she stood there blinking nervously and biting down on her lower lip while placing her hands across her denuded sex.

Noting this, Rose tapped the back of the girl's hands with her crop, "Show everyone your lovely pussy. They all want to see it."

Flicking her eyes around the room, Elise then moved her hands up to rest demurely on her lower belly.

Rose walked around behind and slipping her hands under Elise's arms, she cupped the girl's breasts in her large brown hands. "Note the firm tits,' she commented, "good pert nipples too."

Then walking around in front of Elise, she tapped the inside of her legs with her crop, "Spread them!"

Elise took a deep breath and shuffled her ankles further apart.

Rose then ran her crop up and down the insides of her thighs, tapping the soft folds a couple of times while she explained, "You will all note the girl has been shaved for your viewing pleasure. See how plump and round her pussy lips are. The clit is rather large for a white woman too."

Elise's eyes widened as she listened to Rose, but then, suddenly it all just became too much for her. Tears welled up in her eyes. She turned and rushed towards the door, grabbing the handle and twisting it, but it wouldn't open. Feeling frustrated and humiliated, she let herself slide down onto her knees, hitting the door with her fist and sobbing. She heard a clicking sound, followed by tugging on her collar – Rose, had attached a leash to it.

"I thought I told you to be on your best behaviour tonight," Rose scolded, lifting her crop and striking it across Elise's back and ass several times. "Look at yourself, slut. You're a disgrace!"

Elise cried as the crop hit down, then whimpered and cowered, waiting for more of the same. It was then that she heard Patrick's smooth voice interject. "Oh, come now, Rose. Give the girl a chance. She's new and doesn't yet understand what is expected of her."

Strong masculine hands gripped Elise's shoulders, lifting her up. "Rose just doesn't know how to treat a pretty little thing like you, does she?" Patrick told her, gently brushing her hair back to study her face.

Sobbing and sniffing, she nodded her head and glanced over at Rose, now rolling her eyes.

He gently lifted the metal leash to his lips and kissed it, then suddenly with one swift movement, he turned her towards the other guests and pushed her down onto the table. Elise gagged as he now pulled on the leash and leaned down over her to whisper in her ear. "You want some cock don't you, little one. You want some of my cock."

Upon hearing that man utter those words, Elise couldn't help but feel a little tingling sensation between her thighs.

Of course she wanted it. "Oh, yes a man like him would be so good. But what about the other guests? Forget them," she thought, "nothing is going to spoil this!"

She felt the loosening of her leash and her arms being stretch out either side of her. She heard a light clicking of metal and realised her hands were being cuffed and secured to the sides of the table. She heard another kind of clicking. Straining her neck she could see he was removing his belt. She knew what was coming next. "Oh, yes, he's kinky just like Layla!"

Patrick folded the belt in half then swung it down. Elise screamed as the thick leather seared her skin. "You need a man's strength; that's what you need."

Within minutes her tender little bottom was covered with a cris-cross of angry red welts. Patrick then dropped the belt onto the floor and cupping his large hands of her rear, gave her ass cheeks a squeeze. "Arh, yes, she feels good and warm now."

The other guests smiled and murmured their approval.

Elise braced herself for more but instead heard the sound of a zipper – yes, his cock!

"Tell everyone what you want, little one."

Elise's butt wasn't the only thing burning now: Her face was warm from her blush and her was pussy hot and ready.

"I want your cock,' she managed to whisper.

"Louder! Louder so everyone can hear," he told her.

"I want your cock," she repeated, her own words now exciting her.

He continued to rub his hand over her ass cheeks, caressing and massaging them, then gently parting them.

She felt the smooth heat of his cock drop down against her. She closed her eyes to block out her surroundings. She waited…

At first she thought he must have been overly anxious to enter her, but then suddenly she realized that he wasn't going to fuck her pussy. Oh no – he wanted her ass!

"No! Please no!" she begged; however, her pleads were rewarded with several slaps to her ass. She tried to close her legs, but it was futile. Patrick's had no intention of allowing her to do any such thing until he had what he wanted.

He pressed his cock head hard up against her ass, then drew back slightly before forcing the tip inside her tight little virgin hole.

"This will be a whole lot easier for you if you just co-operate," he warned, but Elise just wasn't convinced. She looked up at Layla at he end of the table, who didn't seem at all concerned as she sipped on her wine and watched.

Patrick withdrew his cock, and for a moment Elise relaxed. Suddenly she felt another lash to her ass.

"Beg for it, bitch. Everyone wants to hear how much you really want it," he told her.

Tears streamed down her cheeks and though heavy sobs she managed to beg, "Please…"

He pulled away slowly then grunting, he rammed his cock inside her. Elise screamed as her hole stretched tightly around his rigid cock. Now gripping her hips firmly, he grinned and began pumping faster, ramming back and forth with his hard cock. Unbelievably, her clit began to throb and beg for contact. She opened her mouth and was about to beg again. She wanted to tell him "please stop and feel my swollen clit! Please use my aching pussy instead," but before she had a chance to speak, a silk handkerchief had been stuffed into her mouth. His grunting increased with each thrust, and he started to push deeper. Only mute cries could be heard from behind Elise's gag. He rammed his cock in and out, closing his eyes, aware only of his own depraved pleasure as his cock throbbed and pulsed. He pushed himself up against her until his body was pressing against her ass.

He continued for several more minutes before making one final thrust. As he pulled out, his warm sperm trickled down onto her swollen pussy lips. She lay there on the table, sobbing and panting through her nose.

"You see… You all see what the whore wanted – didn't you?" Patrick announced as if trying to justify what he had just done.

"Honestly, Patrick, you're such a horny bastard, but you haven't satisfied the slut yet," Layla told him. She waved her hand towards Rose. "Finish her off."

Upon hearing that, Elise braced her body for more pain but instead felt Rose's long fingers stroking her sex and inner thighs. All eyes were on her semi-naked body now as the maid teased her. Closing her eyes as if to try to hide from her own embarrassment and shame, she had little choice now but to allow this woman to fondle and touch her in any way she pleased. Elise bit down on her lip, determined not to show the slightest pleasure. However, as Rose gently pinched and pulled her clit, no amount of will power could stop Elise from feeling the thrill of being used like that. She hated Rose for hurting and violating her! She hated her for using her like that! But most of all she hated her for having that kind of control – for making her feel so good about something so bad. Elise drew on all her strength, but when Rose suddenly plunged her middle and index fingers deep inside Elise's vagina, all sense of modesty left her. Elise closed her eyes and cried out as again and again. Each thrust seemed to penetrate deeper, as she entertained and amused the guesses with her desperate struggle not to climax. Within a few minutes, however, she lost all control and gave in to her own perverse pleasure. Feeling ashamed and embarrassed by what had occurred, she lay there as the guests talked.

"She didn't come like that for you," the woman sitting next to Patrick smirked. "Honestly, Layla love, where do you keep finding these sweet little sluts?"

When at last she was released, Elise crawled to the corner of the room and curling herself up, and remained there quietly, but for an occasional sniff or sob while the others finished eating. They talked about the weather, politics, and things in general, but nothing more was said to, or, about Elise. The food smelt good, but Elise no longer felt hungry.

Everyone sitting at the table had finished eating when Layla beckoned her. "Please, come to me, little one."

She looked around but saw no chair to sit on. Layla beckoned to her again to come closer, then pointed to the floor between herself and Patrick. Since she was already kneeling, Elise crawled over to her Mistress. Layla then picked a piece of meat from her plate and offered it to Elise, who lifted her hand to take it. "Oh, no," Layla said, "not like that," and she gently pushed it into the girl's mouth, letting her finger stroke her tongue as she did so. Layla fed her several more pieces of food off her plate as she continued to chat with her guests before waving her back to the corner.

It was after midnight when eventually the guests left. Elise listened as they exchanged their good byes. She was about to get up and go to her room when Layla walked back into the dining room.

"You did very well tonight, little Elise," she told her, sitting down and once again beckoning the girl closer. Elise gave her a little smile and moved towards the chair. Layla looked down and smiled back, brushing the loose wisps of hair back from her face, then pressing Elise's head down onto her lap.

The warmth of Layla's legs felt good against Elise's cheek and so she placed her hand on Layla's knee also.

"Men are like that you know, little Elise. They will hurt you. They don't always mean to, but they will." Layla continued to stroke Elise's face. "I will hurt you too, but when I do, it will always be for your own good. You understand that don't you, Elise?"

Elise nodded. She was more confused than ever, but for now she was content to continue enjoying her Mistress's tender touch.

The following chapter has been edited by Woodman's game. Thank you, game.

Chapter Ten – Daddy's Little Princess

Two people lay, side by side, upon a grassy knoll surrounded by poppies and cornflowers on a clear spring day. One, the man, sat up and gazed lovingly down at his little daughter as she basked in the late afternoon sun.

"You see over there, my little princess? Over that hill is a lovely castle. One day, when you're all grown up, a handsome prince will come to carry you away on his fine white horse and you'll live happily ever after," he told her.

Little Elise lifted herself up on to her elbows to gaze over the colorful fields, then frowned and turned to look up at her father. "But what about you daddy? Won't you come and live with us?"

"Of course I will, princess."

Of course he never did.

Parenthood had suited Elise's mother even less than marriage. She was young and beautiful, wild and independent. Life with Elise's father had initially been a thrilling new adventure, however, within a very short time, she had become restless. He had hoped a child might hold her. That caring for something so small and precious would some how change her. How could anyone have not adored little Elise?

He stared down at the child lying next to him. Her long lashes fluttered as she squinted into the sunlight and her soft lips formed a sweet smile. How could her mother have left so soon after the baby's birth?

Can one miss what they have never known? If growing up without a mother left a void in Elise's life, her father was determined she would want for nothing else. Whether it was something as simple as an ice cream or as extravagant as her pet pony, daddy's little princess always got what she wanted.

Then, one month short of Elise's sixteenth birthday, it all changed. Nothing would be the same between them ever again the day he married Jean.

Everything would have been perfect if it hadn't been for her. How could her father just let that woman take over their lives? How could he do that to his little princess? Fuck Jean! Why did her father have to be so weak?

                                                         ~~~

Elise stared out of the window to the lovely gardens below. Silently she recalled Layla's words: "Men are like that you know. They will hurt you. They don't always mean to…" A single tear trickled down her cheek; then, she whispered, "…but they will." 

The following chapter has been edited by Woodman's game. Thank you, game.

Chapter Eleven – The Training

Before commencing her first session, Rose reminded her of a few basic rules that Elise would need to remember, or pay a painful price for forgetting. The following weeks Elise discovered exactly how life would be until Mistress Layla chose to release her. Each morning Rose would come in to her room, and place a breakfast tray on the bedside table before opening the curtains and allowing the sunlight to stream in. "Enjoy your breakfast, Miss Elise," she would say, and then she could leave. Upon returning a little later she would follow Elise into the bathroom. Rose never spoke, preferring instead to observe her washing herself in unnerving silence.

Elise had been allowed to choose a whole new wardrobe of beautiful and expensive clothes and accessories; however, during her training, she was always forced to remained naked but for a leather collar around her neck and matching straps around her wrists and ankles. Each band had a metal ring attached. "I'm sure you're wondering what those are for." Rose told her. "Well, little slut, they're to keep you secured when you're not feeling..." She hesitated, thinking for a moment before smirking and adding, "…quite as co-operative as we might require you to be."

"You're here to please Mistress Layla. You're here for her pleasure and use for as long as she chooses to keep you. Do yourself a favor: Don't even think about trying to leave before we are ready to release you. There is no telephone here, and I'm sure you're already aware that we are a long way from town."

Elise understood the hopelessness of her situation only too well.

Each day she would be required to crawl around the room as Rose held the end of her leash. Often Rose would tap or slap her ass if she felt the girl was not holding her head up or crawling correctly. When that exercise had been completed, Elise would sit on the floor with her knees spread wide. Often she would be made to sit like that for a couple of hours. "It's all part of your training," Rose would tell her, "a good little slut must be disciplined."

A good little slut? Elise failed to see how sitting for long periods like that could possibly improve her ability to please, sexually or otherwise. It bored her and it made her back ache. One evening, on one of the rare occasions when Rose was not in attendance and Layla appeared to be in a congenial mood, Elise questioned her about it. "Rose knows best," was all Layla would say.

Often as she sat there, Rose would sit behind her on the bed. Many times she would just watch; other times she would read a magazine or book. Elise could never be sure what she was doing. Only occasionally she would hear a page turn and perhaps a little chuckle if Rose happened to find something that amused her .

When Rose felt she had sat there long enough, she would stand up and offer the girl her index finger, instructing her, "lick it, little slut."

At first Elise had been unsure of this strange ritual. Timidly she had flicked her tongue out to let it touch the tip of Rose's finger. It tasted salty and felt dry.

"No, no, not like that! Let your mouth relax. Wet your tongue first."

Elise swallowed and made a conscience effort to coat her tongue with saliva before lapping at Rose's finger a second time. It slid easily from between her lips over Rose's finger, and so she did it again.

"Now suck it, just the tip to begin with," Rose instructed her.

And so, enveloping Rose's finger between her lips, Elise closed her eyes let her thoughts drift. Yes, this was Layla's firm and sweet clit. She pouted and sucked a little harder. Soon her tongue began darting in and out, twirling, swirling, and extending further than she had thought possible. Warm saliva began dripping down her chin, as she became more adept at keeping her mouth moist while sucking. In an odd sense, Elise felt rather proud of her newly acquired skill.

It took a little time, but with uncharacteristic patience, Rose taught her how to use her mouth and tongue in ways Elise could never have envisaged. Elise now felt confident that when summoned she would be more than capable of pleasing her mistress.

After days of training and practice her progress satisfied Rose. "Now it's time to learn a new trick. You may touch yourself for me."

Elise blushed. "You mean here, Rose? In front of you?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Yes, that's exactly what I mean. It will please your mistress and her friends to watch you pleasure yourself, but I need to be sure you do it properly. "

Elise had masturbated many times before but always privately. Certainly she had done it 'properly', if indeed there was such a thing. Taking a deep breath, she gingerly slipped one hand down between her legs to confirm what they both already knew – that her pussy had become good and wet. She looked up at Rose, who was peering down upon her nakedness, and cringed.

"I can't do it!"

"You little fool!" Rose grabbed Elise's wrist and forced her hand down between her open thighs. "Haven't you realized by now there's no room for your ridiculous modesty around here."

Elise felt her face burning. Tears began to well up in her eyes as Rose, gripping her hand, forced Elise's fingers in and out of her wet pussy.

"Please don't…" Elise begged, but her pleads were ignored.

"That's a good little slut. You like that don't you?"

"I… I..."

Rose chuckled. Her actions were soon to be accompanied by the squelching sounds of Elise's juicy cunt.

"Good, now continue by yourself," Rose told her, pulling away and standing up.

Again Elise hesitated.

"I've had just about as much of your prissy behaviour as I'm going to take, slut." Rose lunged forward to pinch Elise's erect nipples between her fingers and thumbs.  Elise's face contorted in pain and she cried out as Rose squeezed and twisted.  "Now work those fucking fingers of yours!"

Her face wet with tears, Elise sniffed and slowly pushed her middle and index fingers inside her pussy. Despite her humiliation, i

t felt good and so she pressed them in a little further. She looked up at Rose, now licking her lips and audibly panting as she focused on sweet young girl before her.

Elise took a deep breath, then bit down on her lower lip and began pumping in and out in a slow rhythmic motion. Within minutes she could felt her hard little clit rubbing against her palm, and the unmistakable scent of her sex wafted though the air.

She didn't want to enjoy herself. She didn't want to give Rose that satisfaction. She moaned. The overpowering sensation of her arousal burnt between her legs and a trickle of warm sweat ran down between her breasts. "I won't do it. I won't climax!" she told herself in silent defiance. However, as her hand rubbed over her smoothly shaven sex and her fingers penetrated deeper, she realized that would be almost impossible. The heat between her legs now radiated up her body. It made her cunt ache and nipples tingle. Ignoring the fact that she was being watched, she closed her eyes and began fucking herself harder. Oh, yes, she was so close. Fuck that bitch, Rose. Any second now she would have to…

Suddenly Elise's hand jerked and her mouth dropped open releasing an agonizing cry as the burning lash of Rose's whip licked across her backside.

"I didn't give you permission to cum!"

"Please, Rose. Please may I cum?" Elise begged, still holding her hand between her thighs.

"Oh, so you want to finger yourself now, do you?" Rose smirked. "I don't think you really know what you want. How fortunate for you that Rose does. Yes, Rose knows what little sluts need." Then tapping the back of Elise's hand, she added, "remove you hand and keep your legs spread."

Elise hesitated.

Rose slapped the back of the girl's hand with her crop.

Elise winced and pulled it away. Perhaps if she co-operated Rose would leave her alone to finish what she had started.

"Show me your fingers," Rose demanded.

Once again Elise felt her face burning with embarrassment. She lifted her sticky wet fingers. Rose immediately snatched them up, leaned over and slowly licked each one with her thick tongue. Elise instinctively tried to draw her hand back; however, Rose grinned and kept her firm grip while continuing to lick. Again Elise tried to pull away. This time Rose released it.

"You taste good, slut."

Then looping her fingers into the ring attached to Elise's collar she dragged the girl across the room. Elise spluttered, as her collar pulled and tightened around her neck. Rose released her grip then stood there shimmying up her skirt before sitting on the edge of the bed. Elise immediately recoiled. She could clearly see, from her position on the floor, that the woman wasn't wear any panties! Her large purplish colored clit, covered with a frothy stickiness, protruded from between thick smooth flaps like some kind of grotesque mutant flower. Elise reeled back, only to have Rose tangle her fingers though her hair, and pull her forward again, forcing the girl's face between her muscular legs.

"Lick, little slut, just like I trained you."

Elise inhaled deeply as if by holding her breath she might spare herself some of the revulsion.

Rose smelled clean but with a very distinct and strong scent of arousal.

Elise parted her lips and pressed her mouth against Rose's cunt. As that oversized clit filled Elise's mouth, she couldn't help but be amazed at its size.

"That's a good little slut. Use your tongue now."

Closing her eyes, Elise extended her tongue and lapped at the underside of Rose's clit before tasting the tip.

"Now use your whole mouth."

As she sucked Rose's clit between her lips and teeth she could feel it throbbing against the roof of her mouth and tongue. "Bite it! Bite the bitch!" she told herself in an instance of loathing. "Yes, now…"

"Oh, yes, you're such a good little slut."

"Yes, I'm good," Elise reminded herself. "I'm very good, and good little sluts do as they're told." She continued the tongue fucking with expert ease. Opening and closing her mouth, Elise pouted her lips up against the plump flesh, slurping at Rose's wet cunt as if she were enjoying a ripe peach. Then as she felt the woman's body quivering with heated excitement, an odd feeling of pride and power filled her. 

Rose lay back on the bed, resting on her elbows and panting like a bitch in heat. She tossed her head back, her upper lip curled, she moaned then let out a labored cry. A rush a warm fluid shot out of her, wetting Elise's face and dripping down her chin. Rose had climaxed.

 Elise's back ached and she felt sweaty and dirty. It all felt like a disgusting dream; however, now that she had endured this humiliation perhaps she would be left alone? Yes, as soon as Rose had gone, she would take a bath, a long hot bath to rid herself of this woman's touch and smell.

Rose stood up and smoothed her skirt down over her hips and legs. She then sat down on the bed again and addressed Elise: "You will stay there with your back straight, your head up and your legs spread for an hour." She glanced at her watch, "your time begins now."

The following chapter has been edited by Woodman's game. Thank you, game.

Chapter Twelve – A Single Rose

To love someone so much that you can't bear not be around them and yet to know that you can never hold on to them, is a terrible curse.

Rose leaned up against the doorway and gazed in at the two women, each so totally immersed in the other's pleasure that neither noticed her standing there.

"Oh, yes! Yes, just like that, my sweet little slut." Layla gripped the ends of the armrests and, closing her eyes, tossed her head back, allowing her long silky hair to cascade down behind the chair. Her lovely face, now glistening with delicate perspiration, flushed with pleasure.

Elise's soft brown curls gently bounced as her head bobbed between Layla's open legs, one hand placed on her mistress's knee and the other rubbing and prodding her own sweet pussy.

"Elise, my sweet little slut, Rose has taught you well. Oh, yes! Yes… so very well!"

Upon hearing those words, a rush of pride filled Rose, and her lips formed a faint smile. Once again she had been responsible for Layla's enjoyment, and nothing could possibly please her more.

Rose had been attracted to Layla the moment they had met. In the weeks that followed, she had been powerless not fall in love with her employer's wife. Night after night she would lay in bed, fantasizing about Layla. Day after day her heart would break as she watched Edward and Layla together.

To care for someone so much that nothing else matters except their happiness… how many people experience that in their lifetime? Rose knew that kind love. To be able to comfort and care for Layla and have her depend on her for so much was an honor and privilege that would have to suffice.

The day Edward died Rose felt her heart would surely break – but not for him – for Layla.

Treasured memories of that evening when Rose had comforted and then seduced Layla came flooding back, and for a moment in her mind's eye, she imagined herself sitting there with her mistress instead of Elise. She smiled wryly. A beautiful creature like Layla could never have feelings for a woman like her. Rose knew that, and so she had never spoken of that night since.

She stared wistfully at her mistress for a moment longer before quietly moving away from the door. Earlier Layla had mentioned she might like a chocolate torte for dessert. Rose would need to begin preparing it soon... And her bed… Rose had noticed the jasmine was now in bloom… Layla might like some sprinkled on her sheets... And the air was beginning to cool… Rose would needed to fetch a bucket of kindling in case Layla may need a fire to warm herself later… Yes, there was always so much to do.

Chapter Thirteen - The Gamble

The following chapter has been edited by Woodsman's game. Thank you, game.

"Mistress Layla and her guests will be playing cards this evening. You'll be required to keep them company," Rose explained to Elise as they entered the sitting room.

"And what a delightful little piece of company she is," a masculine voice from behind startled both women. A smug blond man, wearing a dark dinner suit, tapped the tips of his fingers together and relaxed back in an armchair next to the door.

"Good evening, Master Patrick," Elise said, without smiling, as she recalled the last time she had seen him. Her poor little ass had been sore for days afterwards.

Rose ignored him.

"You know, Rose," he said, now rubbing one finger across his chin, "I've fucked uglier bitches than you." He smirked and then added, "only they all barked and wagged their tails."

Rose stopped and took a deep breath as if trying to contain her anger before addressing Elise again. "Stay here. I'll be back in a moment. Don't let that man near you." Then turning to Patrick, "Keep your filthy hands of her." 

He frowned and gave Rose a look of mock disappointment. She had no sooner left the room than he stood up walked over to Elise, who was crossing her arms in a useless attempt to cover her bare breasts; his mere presence made her feel uncomfortable. 

"You don't look at all pleased to see me," he told her, standing over her so his warm breath caressed her neck, while he playfully tugged at her g-string.

"That's because I'm not."

"Oh, come on, sweetheart. It's not my fault Layla won't let me fuck your pussy."

Elise shot him a puzzled look.

"That's right. She doesn't like my fucking her little girls." He moved even closer. His nose now touched her ear as he stroked the side of her arm with the back of his fingers. "Don' t you know? She wants your sweet pussy all for herself," he whispered.

"I thought I told you to keep your hands off her!" Rose returned, carrying a tray of sandwiches, which she slammed down on the table.

"Such blatant disrespect!" Patrick retorted in mock disgust. "I know what you need Rose." Turning to her, he gripped the front of his crotch and jerked his hips forward a couple of times.

"Fuck off, Patrick."

Elise was astonished to hear Rose say that, and even more so that Patrick didn't seem fazed by it. Instead, he calmly walked back to where he had been sitting. He picked up the glass from the table beside the chair and took a sip, before turning to Elise again, "She just needs a nice big bone to lick. "

Rose rolled her eyes and let out an audible huff. "Help yourself to a drink, why don't you?" Then addressing Elise again, " Come here, girl."

Happy to obey, Elise quickly moved well away from Patrick. Rose grabbed the end of her leash and gave it a couple of quick downward tugs. "Sit!" she commanded. Elise dropped down on the floor with her back straight and her hands resting on her thighs.

Rose wasn't really difficult to get used to. Over the past few weeks Elise had learned the secret to pleasing her was pleasing Layla, and that usually wasn't at all an unpleasant task. Apart from her 'training' Elise had most of the day to herself -- free to roam the house and gardens, watch a little television, or do pretty well whatever she pleased. Most evenings were spent with Layla. Although her kinky ways often involved whipping or spanking Elise, that too wasn't difficult to get used to. In fact, hard as it was for her to comprehend, Elise frequently found herself becoming aroused even at the thought of being used or punished by her mistress. The attention Layla paid her and the intensity of her enjoyment were like nothing Elise had ever experienced before. It was as if her pain fed Layla's arousal and her mistress's pleasure fed hers in a feast of lust.

Soon voices could be heard outside. A man and woman Elise hadn't seen before entered, followed by Layla. They greeted each other warmly, hugging and rubbing cheeks while ignoring Elise, who remained kneeling. She had a feeling it would be a long evening; however, remaining in this position was no longer a problem for her. Hours of training by Rose had taught her to relax her muscles while remaining perfectly still.

The four of them sat down at the table and began to deal the cards. More than an hour passed. Layla and her guests continued to play, speaking to one another only occasionally in whispered tones. Elise begun to wonder why exactly her presence had been required at all when she heard Patrick announce triumphantly: "That's it. I win!"

Standing up he turned to give Elise a lecherous grin. Her stomach began to churn.

"I'm sorry Elise, but a deal's a deal," Layla explained; however, her cool manner totally denied the apology. "Patrick's won, and his prize shall be to have you suck his cock. "

Elise stifled a smile. She had been sure, when she had seen Patrick hastily unzipping his trousers, that she would once again be required to allow him to fuck her ass. A feeling a relief tinged with excitement now filled her. It had been so long since she had experienced the enjoyment of a man's cock in her mouth – she stared – and his was hard, hot and ready!

He moved closer, standing right in font of her, his cock a mere lick away.

Grabbing her hair he jerked her head back, forcing her mouth to drop open. He then smiled down at her and told her: "Ah, what sweet lips you have. Lips that just begs to be fucked without speaking a single word."

Elise panted with heated excitement, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, as Patrick teased and tempted her with his engorged and throbbing cock.

"Suck it," he commanded, grabbing his shaft and pushing his cock head into her mouth. Immediately she enveloped her soft lips around it and began eagerly sucking. Rose may have taught her many new skills, but when it came to sucking a man's cock, Elise was no amateur. Hungrily she slurped, her tongue flicking in and out under his cock while her teeth gently grazed his shaft each time he drew back. It felt so good to have her mouth filled by a man again. Within minutes Elise became immersed in her own pleasure, and she let one hand slip down between her open thighs.

"Get your hand off your cunt!" Patrick wrenched his cock from her mouth and scowled down at her. "Who the fuck gave you permission to touch yourself, slut? Well?"

Elise was dumbfounded. She had never had a man do, or say, that to her before.

"I thought you would enjoy…"

"I told you to suck my cock." He then looked over at the others still sitting at the table. "Did any of you hear me tell the slut to finger her cunt?"

Soft murmurs of disapproval confirmed that indeed Elise hadn't been given any such permission.

Patrick whipped out the belt from his trousers, then folding it in half, walked around behind Elise and hit it across her ass.

The leather lashed across her soft flesh with searing heat. She cried out and arched her back while remaining on her knees. He knelt down behind her, roughly grabbing her arms, then securing her hands with his belt behind her back.

He then stood up and walked around in front of her and once again, grabbing a handful of her hair, jerked her head back. "Let's try this again," he told her, holding his cock in his other hand.

This time he shoved it deep inside her mouth. His rough pubic hair rubbed on her nose, and his cool balls slapped against her chin. She gagged as it hit the back of her throat, but he ignored her. Impatiently, he thrust his cock in and out as if wanting her to swallow the whole fucking thing. Tears began to stream down her cheeks and muffled cries could be heard to escape each time he drew his cock out only to thrust it forward again.

His upper lip curled, and he sneered as he looked down at her. He wanted Layla to see what she was missing – yes, his fabulous big cock! Fuck her! Why did this little whore get to enjoy Layla and not him? Fuck the little whore!

He closed his eyes. His face contorted and, then with a couple of deep angry thrusts, he filled her mouth with his hot seed. Elise swallowed, but much of the warm milky fluid still dripped down her chin and onto her bare breasts as he withdrew. It tasted salty, just like she remembered it should, only this time it made her want to gag. She slumped over, panting and gasping for breath. It had not been the enjoyable experience she had been looking forward to at all.

"What's the matter, slut? Was my cock too big for you?" he teased, then turning to Layla, "You see what you're missing out on?"

The others at the table chuckled.

Rose's eyes narrowed, and she clenched her teeth as she watched him in total loathing and contempt. Any man's cock was too big, especially for Layla's delicate mouth. No, Layla didn't need his fucking cock in her mouth or any other place. She looked down at Elise, now softly sobbing, and knelt down next to her. Then taking a handkerchief from her pocket she gently wiped over Elise's chin. The girl didn't need a man's cock either!

~~~~

The next morning Rose assisted Elise in her bath, kneeling beside the tub, holding the sponge over Elise, and letting the water trickled down over her pale skin.

"You know you really are quite lovely – too good for men. Men will use you. They just want somewhere to stick their filthy cocks."

Previously, Elise would have laughed at such a rash statement; however, now she began to believe Rose might just be right. Yes, she was good – too good for any man.

Chapter Fourteen – A Company of Three

The following chapter has been edited by Curtis. Thank you, Curtis.

Elise stood there naked but for her collar. The rooms upstairs had felt pleasantly warm. She wondered if perhaps it was the cool air of the dungeon now caused her body to shiver, or perhaps her nervous anticipation? As Layla and Rose talked Elise squeezed her thighs together and felt a familiar dampness. Tiny goose bumps began to form on her breasts and upper arms; her nipples now tingled and stood erect. As hard as it was for her to understand, the mere presence of these two women aroused excitement in her unlike anything she had experienced previously.

"Did she feel wet when you woke her this morning?"

"Yes, quite damp."

Elise had in fact awoken to the sensation of Rose's fingers poking between her legs. Certainly she would have established her wetness in a matter of seconds; however, Rose had chosen caress her for several minutes, pressing her index finger deep inside, wriggling it about and then rubbing the girl's clit and outer labia. Layla turned her attention to Elise, smiling and tapping her between her legs with the crop. "Spread your legs." Anxious to please her mistress, Elise shuffled her ankles further apart. Layla cupped her warm hand over Elise's baby smooth mound. "You want to touch yourself now, don't you, little slut?"

"I think I would enjoy that, Mistress."

"Oh? You would enjoy it? And you think your enjoyment is important?"

"No, what I meant was…"

Layla's eyes narrowed as she moved closer, lowering her voice to a whisper as her lips almost touched Elise's ear, "Your sweet pussy belong to me now. It is for my pleasure and use, not yours. If and when I choose to allow you that pleasure it will be for my pleasure, not yours." She then walked around behind Elise, swinging her crop high into the air then lashing it down across the back of the girl's legs.

Elise cried out. Tears began to well in her eyes, but otherwise she remained still as almost immediately a long red welt began to form on her pale skin.

"You've been touching yourself without permission haven't you, slut?" "No, Mistress. I wouldn't do that."

"Fucking little liar! Rose just told me you were wet when she woke you this morning!"

Since coming to live at Layla's house Elise often masturbated before falling asleep in bed. She had been told not to, but sometimes the urge was just too much. Up until now neither her mistress nor the maid had objected to her surreptitious late night activities. Unsure of why it was a problem now, and afraid of being punished, Elise began to spiral into panic. "Please, Mistress, please forgive this little slut!" she begged, dropping onto her knees and grasping the back of Layla's boots.

"Forgive you? Why of course I will forgive you, little one… Layla smiled down at her, then added, "after I have punished you." Elise felt helpless. Obviously, her mistress intended to punish her, and it would be useless to try to reason otherwise. "Bring the slut over here to the spanking chair, Rose," Layla instructed.

The spanking chair – it wasn't really a chair at all., it was more like a bench. Made of wood, it was raised high enough from the floor for a girl, like Elise, to stand before it and bend over at the waist. Two large holes had been cut out of one end, where her breasts would hang through. Metal cuffs, attached by chains to each wooden leg almost at floor level, would be where Elise's hand and feet would be anchored. Rose pushed Elise down onto it, then when she had finished securing the cuffs she gave her a playful slap on the ass. "It's time for your lesson now!"

The first stroke hit hard across the back of her legs causing Elise to instinctively try to rear up. The chain, however, prevented any such escape. "There, you didn't like that did you, little slut?" Layla quipped, instantly flicking her ass twice more. "Think about it as you take you pain, Elise. You belong to me now. You and your sweet cunt are all mine!"

Tears began to trickle down the girl's face. Her body ached, and her ass soon became covered in hot stinging welts, but in her head things were becoming clearer. Elise had been a bad girl, and bad girls must be punished. Elise must please Mistress Layla. Oh, the pain, the pleasure the thin line between the two began to melt as Elise drifted into sweet euphoria. "Oh, Mistress …"

Chapter Fifteen – The Challenge.

The following chapter has been edited by Curtis. Thank you, Curtis.

Elise jumped as she heard someone at the back kitchen door. She had only slipped down stairs for cup of tea and something to eat, and had not bothered to wear more than her panties and bra. The deliveryman and cleaning staff usually came on Fridays. But then, 'It's that ugly old, Arthur, the gardener,' she told herself, rolling her eyes. Several times she had spied him peeking in through the windows, as he pretended to be tending to the roses. He often came inside for a glass of water. In fact, Elise was convinced he must have a most overworked bladder for the amount he drank some days. Rarely would he bother to knock – "Oh, dear, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize anyone was here," he would lie, then he would linger and take his time sipping from his glass while having a good long lecherous look! Elise grinned, this time she was going to give the old boy something to really get excited about. She lifted herself up onto the kitchen bench next to the sink, then spreading her legs wide, began rubbing both hands up and down the insides of her smooth thighs, moaning as she ran her wet tongue over her moist pink lips.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" A faint gasp escaped Elise's mouth as she blinked and jerked her hand away. I was indeed a shock to see Patrick stroll in. Immediately she slapped her legs together and frowned.

"What are you doing here?" she snarled.

"That's hardly any way to greet me now, is it?"

"You shouldn't even be here."

"Can't a man call on his friends?"

"You should have used the front door."

Patrick shrugged, then taking a chair, sat down and leaned back, casually lifting one booted foot up and resting it on the table. "I didn't feel like using the front door. Besides, it's you I've come to see. I know how hard it must be for a hot little bitch like you to be cooped up here day after day."

"Actually, I quite like it here," she lied. Patrick reached down to his crotch and rubbed his hand over the bulge now forming in his trousers. "Even though there's no man around here to fuck that hot little pussy of yours?"

"I really think you should leave now," Elise said, ignoring his question, before slipping off the bench and walking towards the door.

Patrick, however, quickly stood and moved to block her exit with his arm. "But we haven't finished our little chat yet?"

"Let me pass."

"But I just want to talk."

"I've heard enough." Elise tried to push him out of her way. This rather amused Patrick as he moved sideways to block her path.

"You stupid little girl. You haven't had enough of anything until I say you have," he hissed, his congenial mood suddenly evaporating.

Elise glared up at him as, again, she tried to push past.

"I'll call Rose."

"Oh, you know you don't want to do that. Besides, I saw that crazy bitch heading out as I was coming around the back."

"Let me past!" This time, rather foolishly, she placed her hand on his chest and tired to force him out of her way.

He chuckled and grabbed hold of her shoulders. "Oh, no you don't."

She squirmed to free herself, but his strength easily over powered hers. He grinned down at her then, as he leaned over her, and she felt his hot breath on her ear and neck. Again, she struggled, but that only assisted him in slipping her lacy bra down around her waist. Leaning further over, he licked her nipples with his thick tongue. It felt firm and warm against her soft skin, and his mouth made disgusting slurping sounds as he lapped hungrily at her breasts, exploring every part. Now Elise could break free. Lashing out like some kind of wildcat she dug her fingernails into the sides of his head, ripping into the flesh on his face and neck. He cried out, immediately pulling back and touching the side of his cheek with his fingertips, wincing at the stinging sensation. His expression changed, he laughed and asked, "So you like it rough do you, bitch? Ok, I can give it to you rough." Grinning down at her and lifting his arm, 'Patrick swung the back of his hand across the side of her face to send her tumbling helplessly across the room. Elise dropped to the floor, slumped over and panting to regain her breath after the struggle.

"Bastard!" she hissed as she held her hand to the side of her face.

Again he grinned as he walked over to her and grabbed her hair, before forcing her back up onto her feet and dragging her over to the kitchen table. He pushed her, face down, on to it. Holding her with one hand, he used the toe of his boot to tap between her ankles, indicating for her to spread her legs. She resisted – struggling to break free. Still holding her by her hair, he gave her head a quick jerk, and her ass a sharp slap with his open hand. "Spread them, bitch!"

Still, Elise refused co-operate, squirming helplessly in a useless attempt to free herself. She managed to kick one heel up between his legs – but neither high nor fast enough. He laughed as he pulled back to avoid her foot. "Don't worry, little girl – I'm not interested in fucking your ass when I can have your sweet cunt instead."

Now pinning her down with his own body, he slid his hand between her thighs, rubbing up the insides of her legs, then slipping his fingers inside her panties to finger her moist pussy. "Mmm, I see you are pleased to see me after all," he smirked, leaning further over and rubbing his wet mouth and tongue over the side of her face.

Elise's arms flailed about, as she hit the table with her fist. She heard the clanking of his belt buckle followed by the sound of his zipper coming down. "The bastard thinks he's going fuck me!" she thought in angry defiance. However, when she felt his hard and hot cock drop against her ass, her rage began to subside and she silently began to reason, 'It's been too long since I've had a man's cock. I'll just give him what he wants, Layla doesn't have to know. I'll let him fuck me.' But then she argued back with herself, 'No, I'm too good for this bastard! I'm Layla's slut, not his!'

Impatiently he pulled her panties to one side to press his warm cock head against her moist sex, holding himself there and savouring the moment of power. Maybe he would fuck her, and maybe he wouldn't. As the dominant male, it would be his choice, not hers. The rush of excitement Patrick derived from a situation like this was almost as good as the sex itself. Of course he was going to fuck her!

"Beg for it, slut!"

She ignored him.

"I said beg for it, bitch!" This time he slapped her ass so hard it left a large red mark on her pale soft flesh. She cried out, but again stubbornly refused to reply. Angrily, he hit his hand down on her ass several times more. Her panties were of a sheer fabric and offered little protection. Soon her poor little backside stung and glowed with Patrick's full handprints. Again he grabbed at her panties, pulling them to one side to expose her sweet sex. He grinned and ran the tip of his finger over her glistening cunt lips before plunging one inside, hooking it and giving it a little jerk. Elise cried out and a shot of her warm wetness spurted out onto his palm. Patrick smirked and drew his finger out, then lifted it to his mouth to suck it clean, savouring the taste for moment before pulling it out and making a light popping sound with his lips.

"You taste good, slut." Patrick smirked, then gripping his cock in his hand, he rubbed just the tip between her ass cheeks. How long had he waited for this? He thought for a moment – not long at all, actually – however, patience was one of his few virtues. Patrick was a man of action. When he saw something he wanted he would strive to get it any cost. Every beautiful woman presented him with a challenge – each a prized acquisition to be relished and enjoyed – until the next one came along.

"Take it slut!" he told her as he rammed his hard cock into her. "You know you want it. You've been in need of a good hard fucking ever since you arrived here."

Elise closed her eyes. It felt good – so very good – to have his throbbing cock plunge inside her. He drew back, immediately thrusting his hips forward again to penetrate deeper. She moaned, and her whole body quivered with raw excitement. She bit down on her lower lip. Her warm wetness now dripped down the inside of her legs as Patrick began pumping her with unrelenting force. Now fully aroused, it would be impossible for her not to climax. She knew that, however she wouldn't allow Patrick the satisfaction of knowing he had given her an orgasm – no fucking way! That bastard could take what he wanted, but she would give him nothing return! Absolutely nothing! Stubbornly she refused to make a sound, stiffening her body and drawing on all the training and self-control Rose had taught her to show no reaction to the enjoyment she took so easily from his cock. Oh, yes, Elise had control now. She felt extremely smug denying her pleasure to the egotistical Patrick. "Thank you, Rose," she whispered softly.

"I bet Layla doesn't fuck you like this," Patrick quipped. His words rang in her head; No, Layla didn't fuck her like this. "This is what you need, isn't it, bitch?"

Patrick was determined – determined to make her cry out for his cock – to show her exactly what she had been missing these past months. Grunting with each thrust of his hips, his breathing became laboured and warm sweat began to trickle on his face. The bitch had better be enjoying his effort. His balls could now be heard slapping against her wet pussy, however, it was his motion, not hers, that created the soft squelching sounds of a man taking a woman.

"What's the matter slut? Don't you know I'm the best fucking fuck around!" Patrick told her between breaths, as the frustration of her silence welled up inside him. Then, suddenly, it hit him. He knew what the problem was – it was that fucking bitch, Rose! She'd turned the little whore off men! Yes, that was it! Still, nothing was going to prevent him enjoying himself with the little pussy licker! Closing his eyes, and with one final thrust, he released a full shot of his hot cum inside her.

As he did, Elise felt a wave of heated pleasure quiver through her body. Her heart raced and her cunt throbbed into a full and satisfying climax. For several minutes afterwards, Patrick remained slumped over her, his cock slowly becoming flaccid again while he regained his normal breathing. When he eventually lifted himself off her, Elise remained still

"What's the matter, slut? Admit it, wasn't that the best fucking fuck you've ever had?" he questioned her as he slipped his cock back in his trousers.

Elise lifted herself off the table, and without the slightest show of emotion turned to him. "Actually, I've had a whole lot better."

Patrick now stiffened, clenching his teeth and pursing his lips in sheer anger and frustration. No woman had ever spoken to him like that before, the bitch had better watch her mouth! He stared at her for a moment. Although fully developed, her body still retained the smooth softness of adolescence and her sweet young face and large eyes gave her a deceptive look of innocence. His cock twitched as he wondered how many men had fucked her before him. 'Men?' he smirked, 'she's probably only ever known boys.' Then something else occurred to him – he was the best! He would have this little bitch crawling and begging just like the others. He would just need to use a different strategy with this one. Patrick loved a challenge, and this was the ultimate! Yes, he would turn her into a cock loving little whore. But first he would need to get her away from this place, away from the influences of that black bitch, Rose. Elise could stay at his house, he smiled, until he tired of her. It might be fun to have a sweet little slut like her around for a while until he managed to convinced Layla she needed him again. Brilliant! He smiled over at Elise, now pouting and hurriedly slipping her bra back on.

"I hope I wasn't too rough with you just now. It's just that… well, seeing you sitting there looking so lovely kind of did something to me," he told her, choosing his words carefully.

"Next time, why don't you just go outside and wank off into the rose bushes?"

Patrick chuckled. This one was feisty, he liked that! "You know, you could be stuck here for a long time? But, today's your lucky day, I think I might be able to help you get away from here."

"Oh, and why would you want to do that?" Elise questioned him suspiciously. Patrick thought for a moment. Alien as it might be to him, perhaps the truth might be best? He raised an eyebrow and then replied, "Because, I want Layla for myself."

Chapter Sixteen – The Whore in Red. (Edited by Curtis. Thank you.)

"Quickly, Mistress Layla needs you now!" Rose rushed into Elise's bedroom and threw a silky red dress down on the bed. Elise looked at Rose then put her magazine down.

"Alright, I'll bathe immediately."

"No, no! There's no time for that," Rose waved franticly at the dress. "Put it on!"

"Alright," Elise picked it up and slipped it over her head. "But, please, Rose, what's so urgent?"

Rose impatiently turned Elise around and pulled her zipper up. "Mistress Layla needs you. The shoes — you mustn't forget the shoes."

She hurried over to the wardrobe and took out a pair of red patent stilettos. Elise slipped them on, and then began preening her hair with her hands.

"No, no, there's no time! Come," she said, grabbing Elise by the hand and hurriedly pulling her out of the room and down the stairs. Elise felt confused and unsure — what could possibly be so urgent?

As they approached the dungeon, loud heaving sobs of a woman in distress could be heard. Rose opened the heavy door and pushed Elise forward. Through the dim lighting Layla could be seen dressed in black from head to toe sitting on a large leather chair. To one side of her, placed on a small table, a photo album lay opened. The pages, however, were too far away for Elise to see the pictures clearly.

"So there you are — you disgusting little whore!" Layla almost spat the words through her tears. "Get over here now!"

Feeling totally confused, but not wanting to exacerbate the situation, Elise hurried over to her Mistress and dropped down onto her knees without saying a word. Layla grabbed her crop from the dresser. Standing up, she slashed it across the poor girl's bare breasts. Elise cried out, in fear as much as pain. Terrified, tears began to form and then trickled down her cheeks as the extent of Layla's rage became clear.

"Spread your legs! That's so easy for a slut to do!"

Immediately Elise pushed her knees further apart, as far as her tight fitting dress would allow. Not, however, wide enough to satisfy Layla. Immediately, she grabbed the neckline and, with one angry wrench, ripped it down to the waist exposing breasts marked with a fine crimson line just above the nipples.

"There, look at them! How can any man resist a whore's tits?" Layla's face contorted and she drew the crop high, hitting it down across the girl's breasts again and again, each time a swift whoosh followed by a sharp slap. Biting down on her lower lip, Elise took her pain with agonising determination. However, within a short time, it all became too much to bear. She threw herself forward, burying her face between Layla's boots. Her shiny red dress fell around her on the floor as she pleaded, "Please, Mistress, no more!"

Layla, however, was in no mood for mercy. "No more?" she bellowed. "That's not what little whores are say. Oh, no, you always want more! You want it! You just had to have my Edward, too, didn't you?"

Elise's mind raced; she tried to think. 'Edward?' She knew a lot of men, but none by that name.

"Greedy little whores — all of you!" Layla shrieked. Again and again she lashed at Elise's shoulders, back and ass, covering her in a cris-cross of angry red welts. Each time Elise jerked and writhed about on the floor, desperately trying to understand what she had done wrong.

"No more! Please, stop…" Elise's pleas were now muffled as she buried her face in her arms and her words morphed into uncontrollable sobs.

"What's the matter?" Layla questioned her as she used the back of her hand to wipe away the tears from her own cheeks. "You think you don't have to pay for being a whore? Is that it? Oh, yes, you'll pay for it alright!" Layla hadn't finished. Oh no, not at all. Sneering, she leaned down to tear away at what little fabric still covered Elise's body. Then, holding the crop between the girl's legs, she slapped at her soft and smooth cunt with a couple of vicious and well-aimed strikes. Elise cried out, and her body shook before she collapsed helplessly on the floor; tears of despair now flowed freely as she realized her impossible situation. Layla then grabbed the other end of the crop and, leaning down, rammed the handle up inside the poor girl's wet vagina. That had been totally unexpected. A howling cry of overwhelming fear and panic broke the sound of the powerless Elise's tears.

"Well, that's what you want isn't it, whore? You don't care, do you? You just want to be fucked!" Leaving the crop embedded, Layla grabbed Elise by her hair and dragged her towards a low wooden bench. Forcing her up on to it, face downwards, with her head at one end and her ass hanging over the other. "I'm going to fill every one of your filthy holes, slut! But first…"

Elise heard the clinking of metal. Layla grabbed hold of the girl's right hand. Something cold touched against the warmth of her wrists, and she realised her hands were being cuffed behind her as she lay there. Closing her eyes, Elise hoped that soon she would wake up from this terrible nightmare. Instead, she felt something being pressed against her mouth. Immediately, she blinked and saw what appeared to be a large rubber cock – much too large. Instinctively, she pursed her lips to prevent it from entering. Layla then pinched her nose, and within minutes Elise had no choice but to open her mouth and allowed the huge rubber phallus inside. Elise gagged and coughed as Layla pushed it hard up against the back of her throat before slipping the strap around her head. She couldn't spit the damned thing out, and she couldn't breath! Elise began to panic, writhed about in a desperate struggle to free herself, but to no avail. Thankfully, she soon realised that she could still inhale, although with much difficulty, though her nose. She sniffed and tried not to cry — if she cried then her nasal passages would become blocked, and she would quite simply suffocate on her own mucous.

"And now something for your ass and cunt," she heard Layla say. Elise felt the crop being wrenched from inside her, allowing for a brief reprieve. Then, something smooth and hard pressed against her anus. Something large, she suspected, especially when Layla began forcing it inside. Her immediate reaction was to try to expel it. "Don't you even try to push the fucking thing out, you little whore! It stays until I'm ready to take it out," Layla warned her, slapping Elise's ass again with her crop, as if to reinforce her words.

Elise tried to speak — to beg, but her words were nothing more than muffled cries. Now another hard and cold object invaded her wet cunt. In and out, penetrating her, not with lust, but with a power of anger and rage. A force that within a short time made her cunt feel raw and tender as her body yielded to the relentless attack. Previously, Elise felt there had been a fine line between her pleasure and pain—an amazing and erotic indecision in her head pulling her this way and then that. It had been a delicate balance that could so easily tip either way, but not this time. Her world began to spiral into darkness.

**************

The following day, Rose came into the girl's room as she usually did, only this time without her breakfast.

"Mistress Layla would like to see you in her bed chamber now," she said, drawing the curtains back as she did every morning.

Elise squinted as the sunlight streamed in. She sat up and then closed her eyes and groaned. Even the slightest movement made her wince. She slipped her legs over the side of the bed and gingerly stood up. Her whole body felt tender and sore from the previous evening's events. She groaned again. Layla was the last person she wanted to see.

"Right now," Rose told her, becoming impatient.

"You mean like this?" Elise held out the front of her nightgown. It was long, pale pink, and gathered to a lacy white yoke. She hadn't worn anything like it since she was a child, yet now, living at Layla's house, she always wore it to sleep in. Like many odd rituals at Layla's house she never bothered to question it.

"Yes, right now. Get moving, girl!"

Rubbing her cheeks, she padded barefoot out of her room and down the hallway to Layla's room—one foot after the other as if in some kind of hypnotic trance. It would be useless to resist — Elise knew that. She had never been invited into Layla's room before and felt unsure of what to expect. She only hoped Layla would be in a more congenial mood than the previous night. The door was ajar, so cautiously pushed it open. She hesitated for moment, then entered.

Layla, draped in a long purple satin robe, sat brushing her long dark hair in front of her dressing table mirror. "Oh, there you are, precious."

'Precious?' Elise queried silently, as she quietly walked over to Layla to kneel at her side.

Layla put her brush down and turned to Elise, taking the girl's chin in her hand and gently turning her face one way and then the other. "I see you are all right? I was a little concerned that perhaps I had… " Layla hesitated before continuing, "I was concerned I may have gotten a little carried away last night."

Elise flashed a glance up at Layla before quickly averting her eyes again. Her whole body ached, and her pale skin still carried a random array of angry red welts. Feeling a little nervous, she wriggled her ass about on her heels. Immediately the dull pain of her swollen ass and cunt reminded her of exactly what had occurred the previous evening.

"You have to understand little one, that I didn't mean to hurt you like that. I'm really extremely fond of you. You know that, don't you?"

"I understand Mistress…" However, quite simply, she didn't. A photograph on the dresser of an older, but still very handsome, man caught Elise's eye. Then, something dawned on her. "Edward?" she questioned.

Picking up the photo, Layla looked lovingly down at it then slowly traced her fingertips over the image. "Yes, my Edward."

"And he was killed by another woman?"

"You seemed surprised, little one. Yes, well, not directly, but she certainly caused his death."

"I'm so very sorry, Mistress."

Layla carefully placed the photograph back on the dresser. Her body appeared to stiffen as she explained, "Some things you can forgive, Elise. I forgave Edward for being weak and allowing himself to be seduced—men are like that you know. But that little whore— never!"

Elise listened quietly. So many things that had previously been a mystery were now becoming clear.

"Do you know she actually had the nerve to turn up at my Edward's funeral? Oh, yes, she made quite a spectacle of herself." Layla reached for her handkerchief and gently dabbed the tears now forming in her eyes.

"What did she do, Mistress?" For a split second Layla's face contorted into a dark and ugly expression that caused Elise to gasp. "As if that wasn't enough? I will never forget that disgusting dress. Can you imagine it? She turned up to my Edward's funeral in a fucking red dress!" Layla's body quivered as she clenched the handkerchief in her fists, twisting it to the point of almost tearing.

Elise hesitated, unsure of what to do or say, then she leaned over and rested her head on her mistress's lap. Layla gently stroked the side of Elise's face with her fingertips, as the two remained silent in their own thoughts for several minutes.

'Yes, men are weak,' Elise told herself silently. Her own experience proved that. Elise had tried so hard when her father married his lovely young secretary. 'Everyone adores Jean," he told Elise. "Why don't you?" But Jean just understand. Jean wanted too much of his time, too much of his attention… too much of his love. When, just after her eighteenth birthday, Elise left home, she felt certain her father would realise how he had hurt his little daughter. He would divorce that loathsome woman and things would be just how they had been before—just Elise and her father—but he never did. Elise knew why; he was just too weak. So, she made up her mind; he would have to choose his new wife or his daughter. She blinked and a single tear trickled down her cheek breaking her thoughts. Elise then she lifted her head and whispered, "It's a terrible thing to lose someone you love. I lost someone very special, also. He was weak, too."

"Oh, you poor baby. I had no idea." Layla wrapped her arms protectively around the girl's shoulder, then leaned over to rest her cheek on top of Elise's head. "Who, little one?"

"My father," Elise replied, hesitating, then nonchalantly adding, "His whore wore black to his funeral."

Chapter Seventeen – The Plan (Edited by Curtis. Thank you.)

"Sssh! Don't make a sound."

Patrick didn't try to hide his smugness as he clamped his hand over Elise's mouth.

Before she swung around she already knew, by his musky masculine smell and his hardness pressing against her ass, exactly why he had come.

"I told you, never come up to my room," she hissed, pulling him further into the en suite.

"Oh, so you want me to take you in here, the bathroom?" he chuckled as he looked around at the tiled and mirrored walls.

"Will you please keep your voice down?"

"Oh, so you want me to take you in here, the bathroom?" he repeated, his voice dropping to a mock whisper as he grinned down at her.

"Have you made the arrangements?"

"I sure have." Patrick moved closer and began fondling her breasts through the soft fabric of her dress as he spoke.

"But when? When will you come for me?"

"Sunday. Early Sunday morning, around eight," he told her, leaning down and turning his head to allow his lips to brush over the side of her neck and shoulder.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you, so much," Elise grinned and let out a little sigh of relief as her body visibly relaxed.

Patrick hesitated, as if gauging her reaction, before slipping one hand down between her thighs. "You haven't forgotten our other little agreement have you?"

"Don't worry, I haven't…"

The arrangements had all been made. Patrick would come for her early one morning after one of Layla's little get togethers. No one in the house ever stirred much before midday after these little parties, so it would be the ideal time. Elise would then stay with Patrick for a few months, in hiding, until things settled down. Of course, she was aware of what that would involve. Sex, sex and more sex with Patrick, and more than likely with a few of his male friends, also. She chuckled softly and thought, 'Well, there are surely worse things in life.'

"Oh, you smell so fucking good, you sweet little whore…" Patrick buried his face in her hair and began roughly squeezing one of her breasts. "You love it hard and hot, don't you, bitch?"

"Will you stop it! We can't do it here..."

Patrick ignored her protest, "Just relax; it's no big deal." Elise moaned and closed her eyes. There was no denying it—she had certainly developed a taste for sweet pain.

"Strip for me, bitch! Take off all your clothes."

Gripping at her dress, Elise drew in a deep breath to compose herself, then took a step back. "No, not here, somewhere else!" she hissed.

Patrick looked her up and down, gazing lustfully at her for a moment, then lunged forward. Impatiently, he grabbed the hem of her dress, whipping it up to her hips, then rubbed his hands up and down her legs and ass. "I don't have time for this. We stay here!" He told her.

Elise's body stiffened. What if Rose were to walk in and catch them?

No panties?" he quipped. "You must have been expecting me after all."

"My mistress has forbidden me from wearing under my dresses," Elise hissed, tying to squirm free.

"I like the way that woman thinks," Patrick smirked.

"I think we should continue that edict when you come to stay with me."

Elise glared up at him as he pressed the lower half of his body to hers. Much as she disliked his smarmy attitude, she couldn't deny his good looks, or the hard bulge now in his trousers now pressing against her belly. She took a deep breath, inhaling his musky and masculine scent, then grabbing hold of his collar, she clenched her teeth and tore open the fabric of his shirt. Several buttons popped and fell onto the tiled floor. For a moment Elise hesitated, licking her lips and running her hands on his firm muscular chest, gently squeezing his nipples between her fingers. Leaning down, she gently kissed his left nipple. He moaned, and she took a moment to smile up at him before pressing her lips against the other papilla, only this time she opened her mouth a little farther and bit down. Patrick's body convulsed and he cried out, "What the hell did you do that for?"

Elise smirked, "That's for being such a bastard."

Patrick grinned, "You and I are going to get along just fine, I can tell." And with that he began hungrily kissing and licking at her neck and groping at her full, ripe breasts. His hand slipped down between her legs, rubbing up and down the length of her thighs before roughly fingering the soft smooth folds of her cunt. Oh, yes, the bitch felt good and wet! As he lifted her ass up onto the vanity several bottles toppled, clanging as they fell over. Patrick and Elise ignored them; nothing else mattered.

Now, panting like a bitch in heat, Elise closed her eyes. The clinking of his belt buckle told her that his hard cock would soon be hers. Yes... his cock... for her pleasure. Patrick may have been vain, but he sure had plenty to be vain about. Commandingly handsome, and obviously extremely virile, Elise couldn't remember experiencing a better man. She opened her eyes to look into Patrick's, and she realized, 'The bastard's watching himself in the mirror!'

****

A little while later, as Elise lay soaking in her bath, she wondered if Patrick's house would be as large and palatial as Layla's. How long might she stay with him? She wasn't sure. Men needed to be deal with differently from women. Her mind drifted back to her father and her stepmother, Jean. Her kind and loving father had taught her many important things, but ironically it was Jean who had taught her the most important lesson of all. Not directly of course, but seeing that woman flirting with her father made Elise realize, at a very young age that to control a man's cock is to control him. 'Men are hard when they're soft, and soft when they're hard.' Elise smiled.

All that activity had made her rather hungry, and so after bathing she slipped downstairs for something to eat. Upon entering the kitchen, she saw Rose sitting at the table sipping a cup of tea. Her eyes narrowed as she looked up. Then, in a low, emotionless voice she said, "I'm going to give you some advice, Elise..."

'Elise;' just 'Elise.'

Rose never called her that! "…as a friend and nothing else. Keep away from that bastard, Patrick. He's nothing but trouble."

Chapter Eighteen – The Piercing. (Edited by Curtis. Thank you.)

Elise sat still – knees spread wide and back perfectly straight – Rose stood behind her gently stroking the leather crop up and down the girl's spine.

"Keep still," Rose told her, then suddenly, and without warning, struck the poor girl's ass with a vicious blow. Elise cried out, and immediately jerked her shoulders back. "What did I tell you, slut?"

"You told me to keep still, but how could…" Another stinging lash to her ass interrupted her attempt to explain herself.

"When I tell you to do something I expect you to do it! How can you expect to learn obedience if you have no self control?"

Rose slipped her hand under her apron and into her pocket to pull out a long golden chain in the form of a 'Y'. Each of the three ends had a small gold clamp attached. "Sit up straight, slut, and spread your legs wider."

Elise wriggled about to spread her thighs wider and watched with nervous curiosity the shiny thread glistened against Rose's long dark fingers.

She leaned down then opened the first clamp over on of Elise's erect nipples. "Are you ready for this, slut?"

Elise felt her breath quicken. She opened her mouth to reply, but instead gasped as the metal teeth bit into the tender flesh of her nipple.

"Good girl, good slut," Rose told her. "Good little slut's always take their pain."

Elise bit down on her lower lip, then drawing on all her inner strength managed to stay that way as the second clamp was snapped onto her breast.

"Now, where does the little slut think this one might go?" Rose taunted, holding it and letting it swing freely.

The gnawing pain in her nipples had distracted her from what Rose was saying, however, when she saw that third clamp dangling between her open thighs, there was no doubt about where it might go. Instinctively, she drew back. She tried to stand up, but as she began to lift herself up onto her knees Rose's heavy hand on her shoulder prevented her from rising.

"Stay right where you are."

"Please, Rose, you can't be serious?"

"You just earned yourself another five minutes punishment time, slut."

Bewildered and unsure of how much more she could stand, or how much more Rose intended pushing her, Elise dropped her ass back onto her heels. Rose knelt down, and slipping one hand between Elise's legs, used her fingers to spread her pink folds and expose her most private parts. Elise felt the painful bite of metal as the third clamp bit her hard clit. This time she winced and let out a little cry.

Rose chuckled. "There, you don't like that, do you little slut?" Then her mood appeared to change. " Well, let me tell you something I don't like it when little sluts, like you, don't' do exactly as they're told so you're just going to have to learn the hard way are you? Rose's way. Rose always knows what's best."

Within a minute the vicious teeth of the clamp were biting into her clit. It throbbed between her open thighs like a miniature cock begging for some kind of release. Her nipples too had become unbearably painful -- a fine pickling sensations shot through them like tiny electric shocks. Elise closed her eyes tightly as if by doing so she may perhaps wake up and discover it was all a bad dream, however, a sharp jerk on the chains made her blink.

"Keep your eyes open, slut! You must learn to take your pain!" Rose stood, with her arms folded, in front of Elise. "Some day you will thank me for teaching you such self control."

Little did Rose know that Elise had already used her training for her own gain, however, she didn't answer. She knew by now how foolish it would be to speak without being out being asked a specific question. Any other time, perhaps she could but not when Rose was in one of her 'moods'. Elise remained perfectly still and silent for twenty minutes, although kneeling there in such pain it seemed like a much longer. All the time Rose watched her. At last, and just when Elise felt she couldn't possibly stand another moment of the agonising torture, Rose nodding and smiled. Leaning down she realised the clamps, on by one, and then with an unexpected gentleness rubbed Elise's nipples until the pain began to subside.

"You did well little slut. Why don't you rest a few minutes?" Rose motioning towards the bed.

Feeling totally drained, Elise dropped down on her hands and crawled towards the bed. Her engorged clit felt tender as it rubbed against her thighs and her nipples were almost numb.

She climbed up onto the bed and then dropped down onto her back.

"Now, just relax," Rose told her, lifting the girl's right hand up to hook the metal ring to the head of the bed. She then secured Elise's other hand and her feet also.

This hadn't been exactly what Elise had in mind when Rose had told her to rest, however, it was good to lay back and stretch. How long would Rose leave her in this position she wondered? She lifted her head slightly and saw her clit throbbing between her open thighs. She smiled. It reminded her of a boy's cock—like the one who had first fucked her back in high school. Perhaps Rose would lick her? Right now, Elise welcomed the idea of having a nice wet and warm tongue soothing her throbbing clit.

Rose disappeared into the bathroom.

"Oh, no, she going to shave me again," Elise thought. The first time had been a humiliating experience for Elise. Fortunately, since then she had been allowed to do her own grooming. Now she wondered what Rose was up to.

Rose returned carrying a tray, its contents covered with a small towel. She placed it on the bedside table and then smiled down at Elise. "You're not going to like this, Miss Elise. But it's got to be done."

Why Rose insisted on calling Elise that was a mystery to her. Slut, whore, and bitch, were names she could understand. 'Miss Elise' just seemed too ridiculous!

When Rose lifted the cover, however, Elise didn't see anything required for shaving instead she saw something quite different—a piercing tool! She recognised it immediately from when she had her ears done. Realising what Rose intended to do, Elise froze in fear then a cool damn sweat began to form on her body.

"No, please!" Elise squirmed and struggled against her bonds. Her breath quickened and her heart raced. "Please, not that! Not there!"

Ignoring her pleas completely, Rose leaned down and began fiddling with Elise's clit. She gave it a gentle squeeze, then peering down in deep concentration, she skilfully pulled the delicate feminine foreskin back. "I'm afraid this might just hurt a little bit," Rose warned with a smirk, "so scream if you must."

The metal device felt hard and cold pressed against Elise's throbbing and swollen clit. Tiny beads of moisture formed her face and body as she lay there panting and gripped with panic. She closed her eyes tightly and braced herself. She felt a sharp prick followed by agonizing stabbing pain through her clit that coursed right up into the very core of her belly. Her mouth gapped open and…

Layla sat in her study, quietly reading, when suddenly a shrill scream from up stairs interrupted her peacefulness. She immediately stopped and looked up from her book.

She had wanted Elise to have something special. Something that no one had ever given her before. A gift that would be a constant reminder to the girl of who she belonged to. When Rose had suggested attaching the gold tag with Layla's initials on it to Elise's clit, she knew nothing could possibly be more appropriate. Rose always knew what was best.

The house went quiet again. Layla smiled and returned to her book.

Chapter Nineteen – Layla's sweet Elise

Rose arrived home after shopping. She entered around the back, placed her packages on the kitchen table and then went in search of her mistress to let her know she had returned. At this time of day Layla would usually enjoy reading in the lounge or sitting out on the back patio, however, as Rose entered the main hall, she heard sobs from upstairs. She stopped and leaned up again the wall, closing her eyes she listened to the pitiful and heartbreaking sound. Rose clenched her fist and bit down on her lower lip. She must find the girl! Yes, the girl must once again have to bear her Mistress's pain.

“Miss Elise! Miss Elise, where are you?” Rose called frantically as she hurried up the stairs towards the girl's room, but as she swung the door open the sight that confronted her quite literally look her breath away. Elise sat on the floor, slumped over, while systematically lashing her back and shoulders with a long black flogger. Each lashing sound was followed by a faint gasp as Elise's head jerked, and she closed her eyes for a moment before striking herself yet again. The red dress she wore had torn and now pooled around her on the floor.

Rose felt a hand on her shoulder and swung around to see Layla. “Please leave us, Rose. ”

Upon seeing the women, Elise immediately stopped and stared up at her mistress, unsure now if she had done the right thing.

Layla wrinkled her nose and sniffed then walk over to Elise. She dropped down onto her knees beside her and gently enveloped the girl in her arms. “Oh, baby, you did this for me didn't you?”

Hugging her tightly, then drawing back slightly, Layla looked down at and gently wiped the tears from Elise's face with her fingers.

Elise looked up and nodded. “I punished myself because I wanted you to see these welts and know I did this for you. My pain is my love. My pain is the love that heals you. I understand that now, Mistress.” Elise felt oddly safe as she nuzzled her face between Layla's warm breasts. ‘Can I really leave her?' she questioned herself. 'Yes, she's a strong woman. She will be just fine.'

“What would I ever do without you, my little Elise? You are the love of my life.”

Chapter Twenty – The Keeper.

Elise showered and dressed, then bundled a few clothes up into plastic bag before creeping down stairs. Ever so carefully she opened the front door. For a moment she just stood there inhaling the fresh morning air. Soon she would be free. Elise sat down on the cool stone steps and waited and watched for Patrick's car to come up the drive-way. How long exactly had she been here? A few weeks? A few months? A few years even? It had been as if time had no measure since she had arrive at Layla's house.

She rested her elbows in her knees and cupped her chin in her hands as she let her mind drift over the past few months. In an odd kind of way become rather fond of Rose. In many ways she had become like the mother Elise had never known, guiding and advising her, teaching and disciplining her. And Layla – Mistress Layla – she had been so very generous and giving in her own special way. “You are the love of my life, little Elise, ” that's what she said. No one else, except her father, had ever loved her that much. What would it do to Layla not to have her ‘little Elise' around? As she thought about it and a wiry little smile formed on her lips—it would break Layla's heart, that's what it would do.

In the distance, at the end of the long driveway, she could now see Patrick's distinctive red Porsche speeding towards the house.

Elise stood up and took in another deep breath of the fresh morning air. Yes, it indeed it felt very symbolic. The past few months may have been a complete blur at times, but now everything was very clear in her head. Today would be a whole new beginning of a whole new and wonderful life for Elise. She smiled—a big happy smile that almost made her laugh. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so good. Then, picking up her bag of clothes, and without the slightest hesitation, she turned around and walked back inside the house.

Up in her room, Elise carefully put away the clothes she had so hastily packed earlier, then she paddled down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

“Would you like a cup of tea, Miss Elise?” Rose stood at the stove pouring boiling water into a china teapot.

“Yes, that would be lovely, thank you, Rose.” Elise sat down and Rose poured.

“You know you've made the right decision Elise. I'm glad you've decided to stay, and I know Layla will be very happy, too,” Rose told her, nodding and passing the cup and saucer.

Elise shot her a puzzled look and then a little frown.

“Oh, it's alright, your little secret's safe with me.”

Elise gave a little sigh of relief then, lifting the cup, took a sip of her tea. "Rose, I'm the luckiest," she gushed, "Mistress Layla is the most wonderful Mistress any girl could possibly hope for. I love her so much."

Rose just smiled.

The End.

Edited by Curtis. Thank you Curtis