Jennifer - A Dom/sub Love Story Ch. 02

It was the Tuesday following Jennifer's first visit to see him. She was up early and in the shower, still trying to shake off the sleep before heading out to work. Soaping herself slowly, her mind was drifting over Saturdays' events again. Her thoughts of the experience were still fresh in her head. The way he manhandled her, tossing her on the footrest, her struggles seemed useless; spanking her smooth white cheeks so harshly, then violating her asshole with reckless abandon; then forcing his cock so deep into her throat, making her gag and almost suffocate; tying her up and leaving her helpless against her wishes. There were at least several counts of sexual assault and aggravated assault to be found should she decide to press charges.

Yet somehow time and distance from the brutal assault and suffering have combined to romanticize the memories in Jennifer's mind. She had not yet realized that as these memories replayed in her mind, her hands were caressing the very points of injury. Remembering the spankings, she caresses her ass cheeks; recalling the butt plug, she pushes a soapy finger into her asshole. Her free hand begins pinching already hard nipples as her finger thrusts deeper, exploring how far she can penetrate herself. The lingering pain from his uninvited attention sends sparks of electricity through her loins, and the sensation drives her pleasure to greater heights. Hands glide up and down her body; front and back; fingers return to pleasure her asshole, running circles around the rim, with the occasional plunge inside. Slithering fingers between her legs from pussy to asshole drive shivers thru her body. Rimming her asshole; soapy fingers gliding back and forth; the sensations are becoming too much to bear. Sweet tingles of pain still drive her further. Her hardening little clit calls out for some attention, she can feel it pulsating. But the pleasurable pain further back cannot be resisted. Two fingers enter her tight brown hole, urging it wider as the fire starts to burn. She had never touched herself like this before, but she felt the urge for more.

Standing was becoming uncomfortable. Spreading her legs to ease access was making Jen lose her balance. She wanted to go deeper. Turning off the water and stepping from the tub, her eyes catch the shower candles she kept for use during her long rejuvenation baths. This time, however, the candle had another task before it. Laying on the light green bathmat, with feet up on the side of the tub, she presses the wick end of the candle to her aching little hole. Both hands pushing slowly, the tingles are still there. Sitting up briefly, one still wet hand quickly squeezes the soap and transfers the slipperiness to the candle. Then turning it over so she can enjoy the thicker end, she probes for her opening.

Under firm steady pressure, she wills her body to surrender to the intrusion, unaware that her hips were rising to push back. Making a concerted effort to relax, she bears down on her makeshift toy, feeling the inches disappear inside her. An audible grunt passes her lips, as penetration translates to pain. In and out she begins to stroke, hands matched by the rocking of her hips. It hurts so with each thrust, but she cannot accept stopping now. Legs raised higher, to adjust the angle of penetration; her head is almost between her knees.

The feeling starts low, far down in the small of Jennifer's back, but she knows the warning signs well. Rocking back and forth, thrusting deeper each time, her ass is on fire, but it hurts so good! Images of his anal assault go thru her mind; the strength of his arms as he lifted her from the floor; the forcefulness of his hands pulling down her panties; the cold wet feeling of the lubricant as it ran down between her cheeks. It was all so scary and wonderful at the same time! Oh, the hard head of the plug forcing her open as she lay on the floor breathless and helpless against his dominance.

"Ooooooooooowwwww," Jen screams as her memory of his invasion is mimicked by her own furious thrusts, the orgasm spreading from her ass to her pussy. She can feel her flushed pussy lips quivering despite their having been ignored. It is only now that she plunges three fingers into her other hole. There is an audible slurping noise with the parting of her lips. She is wet and dripping as it never has before. This pleasure is capturing her entire groin, unlike the clitoral orgasms she has enjoyed for years. This is a different sensation but an orgasm none the less. Jen is shaken by its newness and intensity. Legs still overhead she feels the desire to curve completely into a ball, convulsions surging through her abs and legs. Blinded by lust and pain, her hands take on a mind of their own. Feverishly thrusting, rubbing and stroking, her head leans back and her mouth falls open. The candle thrusts are furious, her back rocking like a jockey urging the last ounces of speed from his horse at a photo finish. Finally, there is the one last convulsion; the one that takes over her entire body. She becomes as straight as an arrow, feet on the tub raising her back from the floor. Hands grasping at the mat, an animalistic groan drifting from her open mouth, every muscle stiff as a tightrope. It feels like an eternity before she relaxes and returns to the floor, but the release is unbelievable.

Lying flat out on the floor, panting heavily with legs quivering Jennifer cannot help but wonder why she had been missing this for all her years.

In the minutes that follow, as the quivering in her loins subsides, Jennifer begins to question what she has just done. Looking at the candle on the ground beside her, she starts to think about where this has just been. She cannot help but start to feel a bit ashamed. She had just shoved a foreign object into a place that should serve only one purpose. It had been a long time since she stopped going to church, but the lessons had not completely been lost. The guilt of doing something naughty and the feeling of being dirty creep up in her mind. Was I so wrong for enjoying that, she wonders to herself? Maybe he was right to call me a whore. Did he see something in me that I had not realized? She jumps back into the shower quickly to try to cleanse herself again, but she finds over the course of the day, that no amount of soap or water can wash the guilt away. The soreness in her ass is the punishment she so rightly deserves after such a disgusting act. As she goes through her day, she is sure every group she passes must be whispering about the vile thing she did this morning. By the end of the day she is racked with guilt and vows never do that again.

Two more days pass before his next email arrives. It is straight to the point, as it seems is his custom:

If you are prepared for your second lesson, it will be this Sunday morning at 7AM sharp. You will arrive prepared to serve with no questions asked. You will wear nothing under a trench coat. I will supply your uniform. Tell me if you choose to continue your education.

"My EDUCATION," Jen mumbles, "Doesn't he mean HIS ABUSE?" She is unsure initially, spiraling off the perverse act she had performed days earlier. "But he did teach me a few things and I did enjoy some of it." She decided to sleep on it another day before responding.

In her dreams that night, Jen finds she is helpless in his grasp again. She isn't even sure what he is actually doing, but when she awakes, her panties are wet and her fingers are between her thighs. This is enough to convince her to continue her education.

She responds in a return e-mail : Sir, I have chosen to accept your terms and will continue my education. I will arrive on Sunday morning, 7 AM sharp, ready to follow your instructions. Thank you for allowing me to continue my education with you.

At 6:47 AM Sunday, Jennifer's blue Honda pulls into his driveway again. Looking up at the house from the driver's seat, she takes a deep breath.

"Am I doing the right thing," she says aloud? "The first time I can blame on him, but this time I know what I am getting into. I can't blame anyone now but myself." There is a long pause, but she opens the car door, clinging again to the bottom of the coat as she steps out and walks the path to his door. By her watch it is now 7:00 AM exactly and she rings the doorbell. The door opens almost simultaneously as he has been waiting there for her.

"Why were you sitting in your car for so long," he asks?

Thinking quickly Jen responds, "Your email said 7 AM sharp. I did not want to be too early, and not follow your instructions again, Sir."

A smirk crosses his unshaven face. "I like your response. I don't believe it, but it seems you have actually learned something, so I will accept it for now." Closing the door behind her, he gestures to the coat rack, where she hangs her coat again.

"I expect I shall find my uniform in the same room, Sir?" He nods his affirmation.

Jennifer starts to walk passed him before he grabs her arm and pulls her toward him, so close she can smell the Listerine on his breath. "You have not earned the right to walk through my house after that last performance." There is an intensity in his growl that immediately makes her nervous. "Get on your knees and crawl you whore. Show me how you shake your slutty ass when you go out to pick up the countless men you have no doubt fucked in your time!"

Jen is yanked downward by her hair. Shaken and surprised, she has no alternative but to drop to her knees. Releasing her hair, he throws a seemingly unprovoked slap on her ass. It was hard and heavy enough that she could feel the imprint of each finger on her fleshy cheek.

"Is that how you like it when those anonymous cocks are pounding you from behind? Do you even remember their faces, slut? How many have you fucked? How may cocks have worn out your used pussy? Fucking slut, go get dressed so you can get started! You have ten minutes to be back here!"

Already Jen's ass is stinging and her head is spinning. She had not even been here 5 minutes, and she had no idea what just happened. If this was the start, what the hell am I in for, she wondered. Almost wandering through the bedroom doorway, she stood before the chair looking at today's uniform. It is not the same purple outfit she wore last time. What she finds is a sheer black cat suit. Holding it up before the mirror, she slides one hand inside the fabric. "I believe this barely qualifies as clothing," she says with an angry tone. Sliding her legs into the suit, the fabric clings like a second skin and is virtually see thru. "Oh, and what's this, as if the sheer fabric wasn't enough..." Pulling the suit up her legs, she realizes that there is no fabric to cover her crotch. Her freshly shaved groin was completely exposed. It was not that the fabric would conceal anything from sight, but the sensation of clothing would help put her mind at ease. Her feelings of awkwardness had already started.

Taking a heavy breast into her hand, Jen poured herself into the rest of the suit. The top was long sleeved with a crew neckline. "No reason for a low cut top if you can see everything anyway, right?" She looks at herself in the mirror. All she sees is every glaring imperfection her years have acquired. Rubbing her still stinging cheek, she wonders if she did in fact have too many men in her time. "I can remember all their names and faces ( not likely, names yes faces no )," she says. "I'm not a whore." Leaning into the mirror for a closer look, Jen takes one last look at the beginnings of crow's feet around her eyes. "He must see something he liked if he summoned me again, right?" With a small sigh, she glances at the clock to see her time is running out, so she grabs the bucket and heads down the hall to meet him again.

"I am ready, Sir. What would you have me clean today?"

He gestures in the air for Jen to do a turn. He wants to get a look at the entire package in this outfit, she thinks. Despite the outfit leaving nothing to the imagination, she still flushes with embarrassment at his command to spin. Her first turn is quick, almost not wanting him to be behind her for too long. She holds him in your sight as long as she can, then whips her head around quickly to catch his eyes from the other side.

"What the hell was that," he barks! "Do it again, slower this time... and raise your arms up too!"

Turning again, slower and more deliberate, Jen does not want to upset him. She keeps her head straight, knowing she won't be able to see him for too long a period. From behind her he says, "Freeze right there." Her turn halts, and she waits. She breathes as shallowly as she can, as if any louder sound would aggravate him further.

"Grab the bucket," he says. Jen breathes again, relieved, and bends, lifting it from the floor.

"Not that way," he barks. Stand with your legs straight, bend forward and put your hands on the sides of bucket, you stupid cunt!"

"I'm sorry Sir, I didn't understand what you meant," Jen begged. What a mood he is in this morning, she thinks, afraid of what she expects is coming.

"See," he yells, you ARE a stupid cunt! You don't even understand simple English. I guess you made it through to a college diploma with your ankles behind your ears, didn't you?"

The thunderous clap of flesh striking flesh registers in Jennifer's ears before the pain registers on her ass. The weight and ferocity of the blow are enough to knock her off balance from this position. The bucket flies forward and her feet cannot find purchase on the wood floors, draped in this nylon fabric. The best she can do is throw her hands forward to prevent her face from hitting the floor. The impact hurts her wrists but does no further damage. Lying sprawled on the floor, Jen hears him mutter, "Clumsy bitch. Get back on your feet and pick up that mess." The bucket had flown several feet down the hall, and she stands to get it. "What did I tell you this morning," he bellows again? Oh God, her mind shrieks, what did I do now?

"I said, on your knees, bitch!"

"Yes Sir, yes Sir, I am sorry Sir, I promise it is my last mistake today!" Dropping to her knees, Jen scurries down the hall to collect all that has strewn about the floor. She scampers back as quickly as she can crawl, in an effort to make amends.

"Hand me your punishment," he says. My punishment? What is he talking about? Jen's eyes widen with confusion. She decides that admitting her confusion might be better than trying to fake her way through it.

"I don't know what you mean Sir." His eyes narrow; his gaze fixes on the bucket. Jen suddenly thinks he appears older that she had originally thought. Maybe it's because he didn't shave this morning...

"Then I shall teach you again," he says, reaching into the bucket. He produces a bottle of clear gel, and in his other hand....

It hits Jen like a ton of bricks. She suddenly understands what he means, and her eyes go wider still. Like a child preparing to be beaten she pleads with him. "No Sir, please not that. Sir, I beg you, anything but that again!"

"Stand up," he says calmly.

The thought has brought her to tears again, "Please don't make me do this. Please please; if you must punish me, please spank me again, but please not this. Don't make me dirty again. I don't want to be dirty!"

He stands her up pulling hard on Jen's hair, turning her backside to him.

Shrieking now, "No no no," her hands waving defensively, knowing at best she can only delay the inevitable. Am I making it worse on myself by struggling, she thinks. Is this only making him madder? Jen's defensive reflex is unstoppable, however, and she feels his large hand close around first one wrist, then the other. Seemingly held by one hand, her arms are pinned to her back, putting up no further resistance. She exhales deeply, knowing the fight is now lost. A cold wet finger appears between her ass cheeks, probing for the opening. There is an involuntary clenching as he pushes against her.

"Don't fight me you cunt!" Another heavy slap strikes Jen's ass, this one completely surprising her and sending her forward enough to make her hit her head on the nearby wall. Before she can shake off the surprise, he has forced two fingers into her ass. A few strokes in and out, and the fingers are replaced by the butt plug. It is cold and hard, completely unforgiving and absolutely dedicated to its mission.

"Aaaahhh," Jen howls, as she is spread wide open. There is no mercy from him this time. The pressure was firm and quick. The plug disappears inside her in no time.

"I'm so sorry we have to start this way today."

He's sorry? Holy shit, MY ass is being impaled and HE is sorry?

Resigned to his instrument of punishment, Jen's struggles subside. It is not so painful this time, and she is able to wriggle herself into a position that makes the intrusion more tolerable. She had learned this last weekend. Releasing his grip, he tells her to pick up the bucket and follow him to the bathroom.

Jen crawls down the hall behind him as he speaks to her. The gruffness is gone and he actually sounds as if he has her best interests in mind. "You really must learn what I want, my dear. I don't enjoy having to teach you things the hard way. I do like you, and I have high hopes for you in the long term. But you still have a long way to go." Jen had followed him up the stairs and through his bedroom. The carpets on the staircase and upstairs floors were a welcome relief to her knees. "I want you to clean my master bath. I will return in one hour. You should be finished by then." Abruptly turning, he leaves her there alone.

The bathroom is spacious with a twin sink cabinet; a large Jacuzzi tub and a shower stall big enough for a small party. Jen puts the bucket on the vanity and starts cleaning the countertop, working diligently across both sinks, making sure to cover every exposed inch of surface as she wipes. She replaces his toothbrush in the cup on the sink, but not before pondering what would happen if she used it herself. Perhaps a little payback by spitting on it before returning it for his next use? "I bet that anal retentive bastard has cameras on me," she thinks, so back it goes into the cup with a loud clink. To the toilet now, she has brush in hand, scrubbing about the base and lid. She imagines him standing in front of the toilet, searching for his cock in his pants, needing to pee after a long day out. Suppose he can't find it? What if it has disappeared, she starts to giggle. 'Help I can't pee, I've lost my dick!' Jen does a little prance around the room, imitating a man searching for his dick. It is the first time she has laughed in this house, and a welcome relief. She reminds herself not to be too loud as she is not sure how close he really is, so she stifles the laugh in her hands.

Having saved the shower for last, Jen opens the door, realizing that it was even bigger than she initially thought. There was one large rainshower head in the middle on the ceiling, and several other showerheads protruding from the walls. "I'll bet he has showered with a lady friend or two," she whispers softly to herself. "That's why he needs me to clean up in here; his own whores have probably left their diseased germs all over this house." She sprays the walls and showerheads to clean them, making sure to use plenty of disinfectant. "If disinfectant doesn't kill the bugs, maybe I can drown them." Turning her head around to take in the size of the shower stall she eyes the ledge built in along the back wall. Seeing as she is pretty much done with the cleaning, she takes a seat, assuming she can hear him coming and stand quickly before he sees her.

Taking in a deep breath, Jen allows herself a moment to relax. Sitting, the plug digs deeper into her ass, but it doesn't really bother her anymore. Leaning her head back on the wall, she decides a few minutes of time to herself is well earned. Her nylon covered feet slide a bit on the floor, making her behind slide along the seat. Shifting back, she pushes the plug deeper again, sending a tingle between her legs. The feeling reminds her of that day in her own bathroom, lying on the floor with the candle; the pleasure and pain that left her so confused, but despite her vow, she knew she wanted to experience that again. Jen starts rocking on her bottom, wriggling left and right. It does feel good again, I do enjoy this. Moving her hips in circles, she spreads her legs as a hand runs down between them. She wants to pleasure herself again, but as she proceeds, those guilty feelings creep up again. She cannot do it; her guilt won't allow her to be so vile. Her fingers try, her hips want to, but her upbringing says no.