Continued from Two Nights With Mistress Tracy (Part 4)
Just joining us? Go to the beginning: Two Nights With Mistress Tracy (Part 1)
“Rinse yourself off, then come join me. I want to slap you around a little while your skin is nice and wet.”
I rinsed quickly, nervous about the impending pain. Mistress Tracy is known for her sadism. I met her back in her bedroom and she pointed to the bed.
“Lay down on your stomach. Spread eagle, arms and legs out.”
The sound of me gulping was loud in the otherwise silent room. In the time it had taken me to rinse off, Mistress Tracy had dressed herself in her bright red robe and pulled her wet hair back into a tight ponytail. She looked calm. Peaceful. Like she was in a special mental space.
This filled me with great concern.
I placed myself onto the bed, the cover dampening quickly from my dripping wet skin. I kept my eyes on her as I spread my limbs wide, exposing myself to whatever evil plan she’d dreamed up.
She gave me a long, hard stare before bending down and picking up a long, flexible rubber paddle that I’d failed to notice before.
“I’ll stay clear of your thighs for now, provided you take this spanking well,” she said, trailing the tip of the paddle along the spine of my back.
I was trembling and incredibly nervous. The paddle looked severe and I knew Mistress Tracy loves to hurt. “Please, Mistress,” I whispered. “I’ll be good.”
“I know you’ll be good,” she said, smiling down at me. “Count for me, Sadey.”
The first crack of the paddle against my wet flesh was fucking unbelievable. The sound filled the room and a split second later pain seared through my backside. “Holy shit!” I gasped.
“Watch your mouth. Didn’t I tell you that at the store?” She looked amused, but her tone was still strict.
“Sorry, Mistress Tracy.”
“Do you need to have your mouth washed out with soap?”
“No! No, Mistress Tracy.”
“Good. Then shut up and take your spanking like a good girl. Weren’t you supposed to count?”
I knew I was screwing up but my brain was totally gone at that moment. I didn’t know what I was counting to which was a mind fuck in and of itself. That, and I swear like a sailor when I’m being beaten and didn’t know if I could keep my mouth shut. I was sure that if I swore again she would be lathering my mouth with soap, and I didn’t want that to happen.
I took three deep breaths and looked back up at Mistress Tracy. “One,” I whispered.
“Good girl,” she said, raising her arm in the air and bringing the paddle back down against my flesh.
“Oh!” I gasped. It stung so badly! I couldn’t believe what she was doing. At that moment I thought of Nate, and how he would never spank me so hard without warming me up. But then I also thought of him, at his conference, and I imagined he was day dreaming of me. In the hands of Mistress Tracy. I told myself to be good, if only for his sake (and certainly not for mine). “Two,” I said.
She spanked me seven times, hard, and then helped me up and showed me the striking red lines across my butt. I was teary eyed and my mind was a mess but I was still able to process that those were some pretty amazing looking marks.
“Thank you, Mistress Tracy,” I whispered, looking into her eyes through the mirror.
Her expression softened and she smiled. “You’re welcome. Now let’s dress you up for dinner.”
It was odd being her toy. She was clearly loving it and she touched me whenever she could, wherever she could. As we walked to Pam’s closet to get a waitress uniform, she slid her hand in between my legs and I yelped and giggled at the intrusion. At the closet doors, she pushed me against the wall and pinched my nipples hard, twisting them until I begged her to stop.
I was hers to use. This had never happened to me before. Nate and I play with others on occasion, and I’ll usually be told to obey any of the dominants (unless we’re switching things around, which is rare), but we’ve never done anything like this. He’d never lent me to someone to use.
Which is a testament of the respect Nate has for Mistress Tracy. He wouldn’t lend me to just anyone.
She pulled out one of Pam’s uniforms and dressed me up. Pam is slightly smaller than me so the outfit was just a little tight which made Mistress Tracy smile. “Your breasts might fall out of this,” she said, testing the breast-line hem of the halter top with her fingers.
The shorts were absolutely dreadful. They were super tight and were skimpier than a lot of my panties. Mistress Tracy wouldn’t allow me to wear underwear with them so the lines of my pussy lips showed clearly through the fabric. My bottom hung out of the shorts and I could just make out some of the red marks from the paddle.
Wearing the outfit in public would be humiliating.
“Are you really going to ask Pam’s boss to let me work with her?” I whispered, looking at my reflection in wonder. If I thought I looked like a whore earlier, I had been mistaken. This was over the top tramp-wear.
“Of course. I invited Syd to join us.”
“Oh, Jesus,” I muttered. Syd is our enormous friend who is only in town on occasion. He happened to be the one who delivered my birthday spankings last September. I was happy to see him but knew that Mistress Tracy and Syd together was not a good combination.
The drive to the restaurant was twenty minutes, during which Mistress Tracy ordered me to the backseat of her car and told me to masterbate. I found my cunt was slick with my juices already. I thought about the upcoming evening as she drove, knowing that I might be exposing myself to strangers just like Pam does. I hoped they would be strangers, anyway.
When we walked inside the restaurant I looked down at my chest and saw my nipples were hard and pointy and very obvious through the thin black fabric of the halter top. I felt myself blush as some of the customers, mostly all male, turned to look at us.
Pam spotted us from behind the bar and waved excitedly. She grabbed the bartender, pointed at us, and the bartender—a tall, dark guy with a lot of tattoos, grinned. They both waved us over.
“You look hot, Sadey,” Pam said when we approached.
“This is Patrick. He’s managing tonight. He says it’s cool if you want to take a couple of tables.”
Patrick was staring at my chest and I looked down and saw my left breast had slipped up and part of my aureola was visible. I blushed deeper and adjusted my top. Trying to recover, I took a deep breath and said, “Nice to meet you Patrick.”
“You too. Sadey, right?”
“Come on. I’ll show you what to do.”
… continued at Two Nights With Mistress Tracy (Part 6) …