MISTRESS SEVERITY

An erotic novel

ALEX JORDAINE

Published by Xcite Books Ltd – 2013

ISBN 9781908766939

Copyright © Alex Jordaine 2013

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, Suite 11769, 2nd Floor, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY

This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imaginations and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

To Mistress G, the love of my life

‘Ordinary life does not interest me. I seek only the high moments. I am in accord with the surrealists, searching for the marvellous.’

– Anais Nin

PART ONE

WEEK ONE

‘One must do violence to the object of one’s desire; when it surrenders, the pleasure is greater.’

– Marquis De Sade

Chapter One

Day One

JUSTINE’S IMMEDIATE REACTION to the question she’d just received from her unwelcome visitor was one of irritation. ‘What am I doing? you ask, Charlotte,’ she said, shooting a piercing look at the young woman who’d just entered the dungeon and who was as naked as she was herself. ‘What do you think I’m doing, on my knees with my thighs apart and my hand where it is?’

Justine then removed her fingers from her sex, where she’d rubbed herself all wet and sticky. She placed both of her hands, palms down, in front of her on the dark hardwood floor. Her wrists were locked into black leather manacles, which were connected together by a length of chain. Her ankles were similarly manacled except that these were attached to either end of a metal spreader bar.

Trigger clips had been used to attach each end of the spreader bar to bolts set in the floorboards, which had the effect of securing the bar to the dungeon floor. Justine remained where she was, on all fours, the cheeks of her comely rear splayed apart because of the spreader bar between her ankle cuffs, her large, firm breasts made pendulous by the position in which she now knelt.

‘My question was a rhetorical one, Justine,’ Charlotte said, a mocking look in her emerald-green eyes. ‘But here’s a genuine one for you. Why are you in here at all?’ She sat down on the lower section of a leather-covered whipping bench that was right in front of Justine, crossing her long, shapely legs as she did. Charlotte’s voluptuous naked body glowed in the half-light of the dungeon, her full breasts high and tight, her nipples stone-hard. She had short red hair, big, lustrous eyes framed with long lashes, prominent cheekbones, a small, straight nose, and full, sensuous lips. Her soft skin was pale and luminous, in stark contrast to the nails of her elegant hands and feet, which were painted blood-red.

‘You’re a dominatrix, Justine,’ Charlotte went on. ‘You dish out all the pain and torment, all the humiliation; you don’t receive it. Why has Mistress Katya banished you to the old dungeon here? I don’t understand it. Why aren’t you back in the main dungeon, doing your sadistic thing as her second-in-command? Why do I find you in this demeaning position? Why isn’t it me who’s in your place, shackled on my hands and knees? Why isn’t it Tim? Why is it you, of all people?’

‘Wouldn’t you like to know, bitch,’ Justine sneered, her voice echoing angrily from the dungeon walls. The dominatrix’s mood was black – as black as her shoulder-length hair and her big, almond-shaped eyes. It hadn’t helped that Charlotte had turned up in the dungeon just as she’d been about to climax lavishly as a result of the busy-fingered bout of masturbation in which she’d been engaged. How infuriating was that? Talk about bad timing. Talk about so near and yet so far.

‘Are you going to tell me why you’re here in – what is it Tim calls this place? – the “forgotten dungeon”?’ Charlotte made quotation marks in the air with her fingers.

The big, dimly lit and windowless dungeon they were in, and everything within it, had been kept scrupulously clean and tidy, likewise the cells and bathrooms that went with the dungeon. It remained fully equipped with dungeon furniture too – a St Andrew’s cross, suspension machine, horse, bondage table and so on. It had also retained its rack full of canes, paddles, whips and other implements of correction, along with a lockable walk-in closet at the end of one long wall, which contained dog collars, wrist and ankle cuffs, hoods, masks, head-pieces, and other BDSM gear.

But the dungeon hadn’t actually been put to any use for a couple of years. It had been two years ago that the additional wing – the east wing – of the house in which it was situated had been completed. The work carried out had included the creation of a dungeon even bigger and better than this one, which had effectively become surplus to requirements from that point on. Until now.

The additional wing blended in perfectly with the rest of the house. In fact, it had improved on it. This was because the place had always had a slightly lopsided look before its owner, Mistress Katya, arranged for the extra wing to be constructed. The additional wing was as remote from unwanted outside attentions as the rest of the property, which was located well off the beaten track in the leafy depths of rural Sussex.

The garden of the house was wooded on all sides and surrounded by a high stone wall with a heavy wrought-iron gate. The house was very effectively shut off from the rest of the world.

In her present circumstances, Justine was currently very effectively shut off too – from the rest of the house.

‘Well, are you going to tell me why I find you here in bondage in the forgotten dungeon?’ Charlotte repeated.

The line of Justine’s mouth was resolute and her chin was firm and set. ‘No, I’m not,’ she replied.

‘Want to take a bet on that?’ Charlotte said, her green eyes flickering.

Don’t talk to me about bets because you’d definitely lose this one, Justine nearly said. But she stopped herself. Making such a remark would be stupid, she thought. It would be giving away too much. It wouldn’t help her current situation one little bit; quite the reverse. Instead, she decided, she’d wisely keep her own counsel.

Charlotte gave a throaty chuckle. ‘I can be very persuasive, you know,’ she went on, uncrossing her legs, then opening them. Her pussy was completely hairless and silky smooth, just like Justine’s. It was wet like hers too, glistening with love juice. ‘So, tell me why I find you in such dire circumstances.’

‘No, I won’t tell you,’ Justine rasped. ‘How many more times do I need to say it?’ She added irritably, ‘And close your legs, will you.’

‘Why would you want me to do that?’ Charlotte asked, giving her a mock-innocent look.

‘Because I’m not interested in what you’ve got on display there between your thighs,’ Justine lied. Her body didn’t lie, though. Her pulse quickened and she could feel her skin becoming more sensitive, as if being caressed. Already sexual excitement had crept its way across her features. Desire had begun to light up her eyes once more, she couldn’t stop it from happening, and her nipples, which had lost their stiffness upon Charlotte’s arrival in the dungeon, had become erect again.

‘Why won’t you tell me the reason Mistress Katya’s put you in here in bondage like this?’ Charlotte asked, opening her milky thighs even wider, wantonly wide. ‘I insist that you tell me. Oh, and I want you to address me as “mistress” from now on.’

Justine dragged her gaze away from Charlotte’s sex – that delicious, inviting, oozing slit – and stared into her eyes. ‘Dream on, bitch,’ she scowled. ‘You can insist all you like but I won’t tell you because I choose not to. And let’s be perfectly clear about this as well, while we’re about it. You’re not a dominatrix and you never will be. You’re a submissive, a slave, just like your fellow dogsbody Tim.’ She knew Charlotte could hear the contempt in her voice, see the derision in her eyes. Justine went on, ‘What makes you think you can make me call you “mistress”, you insolent slut? It’s always been you who has called me “mistress” and that’s as it should remain, as it will remain as far as I’m concerned.’

There was a heavy pause. Then Charlotte suddenly shifted forward, and grabbed a fistful of Justine’s hair. Her grasp was firm and painful, the sensation like daggers digging into her scalp. Charlotte pulled her face towards hers and glared into Justine’s dark, glittering eyes. ‘For someone who for whatever reason has pissed off Mistress Katya so mightily that she’s gone so far as to put her into bondage in this forgotten dungeon here, you have a serious attitude problem.’ She continued, grasping her hair tighter, ‘I may be a slave right now, but that’s not going to last much longer, believe me. I’ve set my sights on being a dominatrix, and who better for me to practice on than you, given the invidious situation you’ve got yourself into. Now, tell me why you’re here.’

‘No, for the umpteenth time, I won’t do that,’ Justine replied fiercely. ‘And I also repeat: you’re no dominatrix and you never will be. You’re a slave, a sub. Face that simple fact and move on. Or rather, don’t move on. Stay as you are – where you belong, slave.’

Charlotte squeezed Justine’s hair even tighter for a moment, making her wince in discomfort, and then let go of it. ‘Who is the ultimate boss of this household?’ she asked, switching tack. ‘Tell me that.’

‘Mistress Katya,’ Justine replied tartly. ‘That goes without saying.’

‘It’s an incontrovertible fact, agreed?’

Justine said nothing.

‘Agreed?’ Charlotte persisted, a hard edge to her voice.

Justine clenched her fists in angry frustration. ‘Yes,’ she snapped. Why did the tiresome bitch have to labour every damn thing?

‘As we both agree on that, then let me ask you this,’ Charlotte said. ‘If Mistress Katya didn’t think I had real potential to be a dominatrix do you think she would have put you under my direct control while you are banished to this dungeon? If she thought of me as someone who is always going to remain a slave, do you think she would have told me that whenever I visit you in here I can torment you to my heart’s content? Those are her words, not mine, let me emphasise; those are her exact words. I mean, does that make any kind of sense to you?’

Justine did not reply.

‘Well, does it?’

Still not a word.

‘Well?’ Charlotte snapped.

Justine remained mute but took a deep breath. She exhaled loudly, heaving a sigh, her big, beautiful breasts rising and falling with her vigorous respiration.

‘Answer me,’ Charlotte insisted.

But Justine still did not answer. Instead, she dropped her eyes, gluing them to the dungeon floor. She knew a hell of a lot more than she was prepared to let on to Charlotte. Again, she concluded, it was better to keep silent than to open her mouth and risk saying something that might give the game away.

‘I asked you a question there, Justine, but maybe you were afflicted all of a sudden with temporary deafness,’ Charlotte said sarcastically. ‘Well, hear this and hear it well. If you don’t start showing me respect very, very soon, I’m going to make your life a total misery while you’re in here. Do we understand each other?’

Justine lifted her head. A fine beading of sweat had formed on her upper lip and she was breathing heavily.

‘Do we understand each other?’ Charlotte repeated, fixing her eyes on her coldly.

Justine looked back at her and hissed, ‘We understand each other.’

‘Say, “Yes, we understand each other, mistress,”’ Charlotte’s voice was sharp as a stiletto.

‘Yes, we understand each other, mistress,’ Justine replied through gritted teeth, her jaw clenched.

‘At last we seem to be getting somewhere,’ Charlotte said. ‘It would, of course, have been far better if you’d called me “mistress” because you really meant it, but it’s early days yet – you will, dear Justine, you will.’

Yeah, I will, bitch, Justine said or rather thought, shooting a venomous look at Charlotte. I’ll do that round about the time hell freezes over.

Chapter Two

THE EXPRESSION ON Charlotte’s face was perplexed. ‘I know I keep going on about it, Justine,’ she said. ‘And I can understand that you’d find that tedious. But I really can’t help wondering what you could have done to incur Mistress Katya’s wrath in this way. It must have been something pretty damn serious, surely. Maybe she caught you trying to get your hands on some of her fortune. Was that it, dear Justine? Was it greed that proved to be your undoing? Was it your own avarice that got you into such deep shit?’

Justine raised her eyes to the ceiling and sighed heavily. But she didn’t say anything.

‘Or was it something else entirely?’ Charlotte went on. ‘Did you perhaps show disrespect to Mistress Katya, come across to her in that annoyingly arrogant way you have that you felt it was you, not her, who’s the ultimate boss around here?’

Justine remained silent, simply glowering in response.

‘No, probably not,’ Charlotte decided, shaking her head. ‘We’ve kind of covered that ground, haven’t we? Was it something sexual then, what about that?’

Still nothing; complete silence.

‘It’s got to be a real possibility, I reckon,’ Charlotte went on, gazing searchingly into Justine’s dark eyes. ‘Am I getting closer to the truth?’

Justine looked as defiant as ever, still saying nothing. The stubborn expression on her face, the look in her eyes, said “keep on speculating, I don’t bloody care. You’re getting nothing out of me”.

‘So, we have another deathly silence, do we?’ said Charlotte with studied calmness. Her iciness was indeed chilling.

More silence, which stretched out.

‘You know, Justine, we’ve established that there is nothing wrong with your hearing,’ Charlotte continued in the same icily calm tone. ‘So that’s not the problem this time. Maybe you’ve been struck dumb. Is that it?’

Justine continued to remain silent.

‘Is that it?’ repeated Charlotte, raising her voice.

There was yet more silence.

So Charlotte did what she felt she had to do, slapping Justine hard around the face. It was a quick, sharp blow with the flat of the hand that stung Justine’s cheek painfully and made her turn her head to one shoulder. She remained with her head turned aside, breathing heavily through half-closed lips. Her cheek had become suffused with a deep red flush from the blow.

Charlotte put a hand under Justine’s chin and pulled her face back towards her. ‘I think it is dumbness that’s the problem here, I honestly do – dumb insolence, that is.’ She looked Justine squarely in the eyes again. ‘I’ve had more than enough of it and, as I’ve just demonstrated to you in the best way possible – by actions rather than words – I’m not going to stand for it any longer. If you don’t answer my next question and answer it truthfully, I’m going to make you extremely sorry, bet on it.’

Justine, her face still smarting hotly from the blow, waited for an interminable moment for Charlotte’s next words. What was the bitch going to ask? she wondered, her heart beating fast against her ribcage. A wary disquiet made her shift uncomfortably in her bonds, the chain between her leather-manacled wrists clanking against the hard floor of the dungeon.

‘It’s actually more of a statement,’ Charlotte said, letting a smile slip. ‘You’re not going to tell me why you’re in here, are you?’

‘No, mistress,’ Justine replied. ‘I’m not.’ I can’t, she almost added, but she caught herself.

‘Fair enough.’ Charlotte shrugged. ‘Mistress Katya wouldn’t tell me either when I asked her and I didn’t mind. It was more than enough that she told me that you were in here and in bondage and that she was giving me carte blanche to do whatever I liked with you whenever I came to see you. I couldn’t get here quickly enough when she gave me that news, I can tell you.’

She paused for a moment before continuing. ‘And what did I find when I got here?’ she said. ‘I found you having a good wank. It was a sight for sore eyes, I have to say, a real turn-on. It made me want to follow your example, still does.’ Charlotte, whose thighs remained wide open, brought the middle finger of her right hand to her own pussy – that deliciously slick divide – and held it there, motionless. ‘By the way, did you climax at any time as a result of those self-ministrations of yours?’

‘No, mistress,’ Justine replied, her voice flat. Christ, how she resented having to call this wannabe dominatrix, this fucking interloper, “mistress”. It really stuck in her craw. ‘I didn’t climax.’

Charlotte let a few more seconds go. ‘I didn’t think you had,’ she said. ‘Would you like to have climaxed?’

‘Yes, mistress,’ she said, her tone just as flat as before. What a stupid question, she thought rebelliously. But she wasn’t feeling that rebellious, truth be told, not any more. She was looking not at Charlotte’s face now but at her silky smooth pubis and that finger hovering at the entrance to her humid sex.

‘You are starting to try my patience again, Justine,’ Charlotte said threateningly. ‘And you wouldn’t want to be doing that, now would you?’ She added sharply, ‘Say “Yes, mistress” again three times – and with feeling this time.’

‘Yes, mistress. Yes, mistress. Yes, mistress,’ Justine said, exhibiting the necessary feeling required of her, but only barely. This is bullshit, she thought, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off that middle digit of Charlotte’s and where it was placed. She could feel her blood begin to run faster and her pussy moisten even more.

‘Did you come close to climaxing when you were wanking?’ Charlotte asked, putting her middle finger to use at last and beginning to masturbate languorously.

‘Very close, mistress.’ The sight of Charlotte and what she was doing to herself right in front of her face, the enticingly musky scent of Charlotte’s sex, sent shivers up Justine’s spine and made her pussy moisten further. She was becoming more and more aroused.

‘Would you like to finish the job?’ Charlotte gave her a seductive smile.

Justine nodded. She had begun to breathe heavily again and her heart was beating harder still.

‘Well, generous soul that I am, I feel inclined to let you,’ Charlotte said, ‘but not by your own hand – or by mine.’ With that she stopped masturbating, rose to her feet and disappeared behind her in one fluid move.

It took Charlotte a matter of minutes to wheel the piece of equipment into place. It was a fucking machine – quite literally that was its function. She lubricated its black dildo attachment, placed it at the entrance to Justine’s slippery sex, and switched the machine on. Remaining behind Justine, she watched the fucking machine at work.

In and out, it went. In and out, in and out, in and out. It looked very good to Charlotte, very exciting.

It didn’t look much of anything to Justine; she couldn’t really see it other than out of the corner of her eye when she strained her head round momentarily. But it felt exquisite to her; its constant piston-like motion extremely arousing. In and out, in and out, in and out, it continued to go. The fucking machine was as relentless as the chain attached to Justine’s manacled wrists and the metal spreader bar bolted to the floor that was keeping her manacled ankles apart.

That in-and-out motion made Justine tremble with excitement within her bonds. She was in pain with desire, burning with pleasure. The shaft pounding her now-sodden vagina made her ever more sexually excited, brought her closer and closer to climaxing. Her dark eyes were shiny and glazed, her breathing spasmodic, and the closer she got the more violently her heart pumped. She was just on the brink of a massive orgasm, right on the very edge, almost there, this close …

Then Charlotte switched off the machine and withdrew the dildo from Justine’s pulsating sex. She wheeled the machine away and sat back down in front of her victim, legs parted widely again, hands resting on her knees.

Justine’s shiny black hair had fallen over her face and she was breathing very hard now, really panting, as if she’d just run up several flights of stairs. ‘You said you’d let me climax,’ she wailed, looking pleadingly at her tormentor. She felt near crazy with unfulfilled lust.

‘I said I felt inclined to let you climax.’ Charlotte corrected Justine, giving her a mocking smile. ‘I changed my mind. And you, foolish woman, just forgot to call me “mistress”. Don’t let it happen again.’