WARNING! This story is only for adults over the age of 18 and contains Strong Sexual Content. It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS only, and the author does not in any way condone similar behavior.
If you are under the age or 18 or reside in a state, nation, or planet that prohibits such behavior, stop reading immediately!!!
The Challenge CH15 PT2 "Endgame"
By mailto:sfmaster@att.net
Archiving permitted, reposting is permitted; but only if you include this statement of limitation of use and notify the author by e-mail. The author forbids you to make, distribute, or sell multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format.
However, individual readers may make single copies of the story for their own, non-commercial use.
Copyright (c) 1998 by mailto:sfmaster@att.net Revised January 2002
Attn: Readers please feel free to send e-mail to the author. I do want to hear from you!
Challenge CH15 PT2 Continued:
Part Three: Legacies
Friday November 20, 1998
Janet watched from the front door as Tina took the Toyota out for the trip to Mistress Lori in Brookline. They had packed a small suitcase, and Janet had kissed Tina on her way out.
But Janet knew that Tina would disobey her, that she would instead drive to Stephanie's and tell her the whole story on how Cheryl had forced herself upon Janet.
All of the events of the last six months had come to this. Janet's training Cheryl and her deceptions involving Tina and Stephanie. Now she was alone, having delivered herself to Cheryl as the price of her remaining a Domme.
She went back to the library, and took a seat. Janet tried to work, hoping that it would change her mood. Instead, she felt like screaming.
Buzz!
"Janet!"
"Yes, Blanca. You don't have to speak so loudly. What's up?"
"I have to see you right away."
"That's impossible for today, perhaps Sunday. I'm busy this weekend. What's that noise?"
"I'm calling from a pay phone at Kennedy Airport, Janet this is very important. Have you been contacted by a woman named Cheryl Branford?"
"No," Janet lied.
"Don't lie to me, Janet, please! This woman is somehow linked to Erica."
"What?"
"Early this morning I got a call from a lawyer in San Francisco. Erica had instructed him that after her death he was supposed to send you a package. But the idiot forgot! He was keeping an eye on Cheryl, and in the event she would come east, to warn you. It wasn't until Cheryl had a car accident on Telegraph Hill on Wednesday and was revealed to be a fake that he remembered the package and called me."
"But Cheryl's here in Greenwich!"
"Exactly, Cheryl hired a woman look a like to substitute for her for quite some time."
"Why are you at Kennedy?"
"He sent his secretary with the package on a red eye flight from San Francisco that will be landing shortly. Then I'll drive up to your house."
"No, you can't be seen here."
"All right, where?"
"How about the Rye Town Hilton? Meet me by the staircase by the Westchester Ballroom in two hours."
"Fine. The plane's about to land, see you there."
`What the hell is going on?' Janet asked herself.
Janet waited outside the ballroom, pacing on the carpet. Blanca was probably stuck in traffic, thought Janet.
"Can I help you?" asked a hotel staff worker.
"I'm waiting for a friend," Janet answered.
Just then at the end of the corridor, Janet watched as Blanca walked in.
"Blanca!" called Janet.
Blanca quickly strode over, puffing as she sought to catch her breath. Her face was flushed red from the outside cold.
"Janet, glad you're here. Can we go somewhere private?"
"There was a sales meeting here a little while ago, the door's open."
Janet opened the door, which was really a conference room, not a ballroom in the usual sense since it could be separated into three small rooms.
"Good," said Blanca as they walked inside and closed the door to the empty room.
"Well?"
"Here."
From her soft leather briefcase Blanca removed a large package, bound with tape. On the top were the words "To be Opened by Janet Davis Only." Below the words was Erica's distinctive signature.
"Aren't you going to open it?" asked Blanca, as she poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the table.
"Sit down, I have a confession to make first," said Janet.
"Go ahead."
"Erica and Andrea didn't die in the plane crash in Mexico. Andrea is alive and well, living in Taos New Mexico. The whole thing was a set-up."
"What?" gasped Blanca.
"Erica was dying of leukemia for the last years of her life, she was seriously ill and weak. She didn't want to be remembered as an object of pity, of sympathy, a Domme who couldn't hold a crop. So she and Andrea created the competition between Tiffany and myself to succeed her."
"Why?"
"To see which of her slaves was the better Mistress. I was, by virtue of the fact that I was a better stock market player, management of the house, and proper conduct. Unlike Tina, who had allied herself with Lauren, Erica's enemy."
"I understand now," said Blanca, "Erica wanted to see that she was to be remembered for her replacement. That's why you've acquired the aura of Erica's reputation."
"Yes. I'm sorry that I've concealed the truth from you, Blanca. I was obeying my Mistress, even after her death."
"Understood."
Janet opened a small Swiss Army Knife that she carried in her purse, and cut the tape on the package. Inside were a series of envelopes, plus a wrapped rectangular object.
"Letters for me, you, Cheryl, and Stephanie. Plus this," Janet held the object, which she shook in her hand, "videotape."
Janet opened her letter, and handed Blanca hers. They stared at each other, and then Janet opened hers and passed the knife to Blanca.
"I didn't know!" cried Blanca, shock in her face after she had read her letter.
"But I did."
"This changes everything!"
"No, this changes nothing. Cheryl forced herself on me in June. She wanted me to train her as a slave, hand her over to a another Domme, then make her final demand."
"Which is?"
"To use me in the Dungeon, alone."
"You can't, Janet. She'll hurt you, thinking the way she does."
"I don't think that she feels that way anymore," Janet answered.
"Why?"
"Because I've trained her, because she knows and understands what it means to both feel and hold the crop."
"You're very confident about your own abilities, Janet. To place yourself at her mercy!"
"All right then," Janet spied a pile of stationary on a table, and some envelopes as well.
Janet wrote out something, and then removed a key from her purse. She placed it in the envelope along with the letter that she had just written.
"I sent Tina off to Lori in Brookline, but knowing her she's probably at Stephanie's now. Which is where you're going, with that envelope."
"What are you going to do?" questioned Blanca.
"Submit myself to Cheryl Branford, just as she wants. I made a contract with her, and I intend to honor it."
"If I had a pair of cuffs now, I'd lock you to the chair, since you're totally mad."
"Perhaps I am, but I don't think that Cheryl means to hurt me now."
"Good luck Janet," said Blanca as she kissed her companion on the cheek.
"I'll need it," answered Janet.
When Janet returned to the Mansion, she kept glancing at her watch. Even though it was hours until Cheryl would arrive, Janet wanted to be ready for her.
Janet stripped her clothes off in the bedroom, then padded around naked as the tub filled.
"What?" said Janet to herself when she saw movement behind her.
It was then that she felt a cloth pressed to her face with the sickly sweet odor of chloroform before she passed out, the walls spinning.
"Good afternoon, sleepyhead," said Cheryl.
When Janet came to, she found that she was naked, collared, and bracelets were locked to her wrists and ankles. She was seated on the floor with her back to the bed, wrists locked behind her back, and a spreader bar locked to her ankles.
"Cheryl, how?"
"While you were out, I paid someone to let me in the house. Money can buy everything, you know."
"What are you going to do with me?" asked Janet.
"Worried aren't you?" smiled Cheryl when she answered.
"Yes."
"Anything that I want, Mistress. You're helpless, and at my mercy. I can use you any way I choose, to my heart's desire."
"You said you wouldn't hurt me," protested Janet.
"True."
"Ah!" cried Janet.
Cheryl had been hiding a riding crop behind her back, and she had cruelly struck Janet's breasts with an unexpected stroke. An evil grin spread across her face.
Then Cheryl got to her knees next to Janet, and began to lick and suck at Janet's nipples, teasing them erect. At the same time, her right hand snaked between Janet's thighs and began to trace the outline of her sex, making Janet moan with anticipation.
"No Janet, I'm not going to give you a climax, not yet anyway. You're quite a sexual person, aren't you?"
"What do you want with me?" asked Janet.
"I've got everything that I want right now. The famed Mistress Janet, helpless at my feet. I'll get dressed, do you mind if I wear some of your clothes?"
"Go ahead, I can't stop you," answered Janet.
"Oh how very droll, Mistress. I'll give you something to think about while I'm dressing."
Janet watched as Cheryl opened her night table, and removed a vibrator. Cheryl the flipped the switch on and it made a buzzing noise.
"Open wide," ordered Cheryl.
Janet obliged, and Cheryl forced the vibrator into her sex all the way that she could. The buzzing vibrator instantly excited Janet, making her hot and wet.
"Keep that in your cunt," threatened Cheryl, "or there will be worse to come."
Janet watched as Cheryl stripped off her clothes, revealing that she wore no underwear. Naked, Cheryl walked around Janet's bedroom, and opened her dresser drawers.
"Nice collection of undies, Janet. Bet you must be Victoria's Secret's best customer. Good thing that we're about the same size."
Cheryl selected a matching bra and panty set of black lace, and put them on quickly. Then she removed one panty from the drawer, along with a single black stocking then closed it. Cheryl then advanced on Janet, which remained helpless on the floor.
"How's that cunt of yours?" asked Cheryl.
"Fine, thank you."
"Vibrator still inside?"
Cheryl then reached between Janet's legs and tweaked the buzzing vibrator. It was still held firmly in place.
"You must have one trained sex, Mistress," commented Cheryl as she balled up the panty she was holding, "so open wide."
Cheryl then stuffed the panty into Janet's mouth, then wrapped the stocking around then tied a knot at the back of her head.
"Mmmmmmph!" cried Janet.
"You're mine, Mistress. All mine for one night. I'll do with you as I please, everything from a spanking to suspending you from the ceiling and striping that lovely body of yours. And you'll never know the reason why," taunted Cheryl as she walked into the closet to select some fetish wear.
Cheryl sat in Janet's chair, wearing a black leather bodysuit and a pair of high heels. On the carpet knelt Janet, naked and helpless. Once Cheryl had dressed she had unlocked the spreader bar and removed the vibrator. Then she had pulled Janet to her feet, and had marched her down to the Dungeon, pushing Janet to her knees.
Janet had not resisted or fought, or even tried to run. Instead, she had allowed herself to be taken down to the Dungeon. She knelt with the gag still in her mouth, in the pose of submission that she had taught Cheryl.
"I would have thought that you would have tried something, Janet. But you're here at my mercy, doesn't that scare you? The whip, the crop, the cane are available for my use. I could hurt you badly, Mistress."
Instead of grunting through her gag, Janet instead remained silent. She bit down on the panty inside her mouth, glad for the dignity that the fabric gave her.
Frustrated, Cheryl rose to her feet and untied the stocking, and pulled the panty from Janet's mouth, leaving Janet gasping for breath.
"Thank you, Mistress!" panted Janet, her chest heaving from the deep breaths that she now took.
"When were you last whipped Janet?" asked Cheryl, "I'll bet that it was a long time ago?"
"I was last whipped six months ago," answered Janet, "just before you arrived. Once a year I submit to Mistress Stephanie so that I may never forget what the lash feels like."
"How proper you are."
"Thank you, Mistress."
"I'm going to paddle your bottom so get ready, Mistress!" said Cheryl.
Cheryl then pulled Janet again to her feet, and then marched her over to the padded bench. She then sat down, and pulled Janet over her knee. Janet noted that Cheryl had already placed the paddle on the bench in advance.
"You may count each stroke, slave. And thank me after every five."
"Yes, Mistress!"
Cheryl raised Janet's bound arms, and then struck a savage blow with her hand.
"One!"
"Two!"
"Three!"
"Four!"
"Five! Thank you, Mistress!"
Janet felt the skin on her bottom slowly warm as it was struck. She had not been spanked for a long time indeed.
"Six!"
"Seven!"
"Eight!"
"Nine!"
"Ten! Thank you Mistress!"
Crack!
"Ah!" cried Janet, the force of the paddle staggering her with its effect.
"Continue, slut!"
"Eleven!"
"Twelve!"
"Fifteen! Thank you, Mistress!"
Crack!
"Sixteen!"
"Eighteen!"
"Twenty! Thank you, Mistress!"
"Very good, Janet," commented Cheryl as she let Janet kneel on the floor.
"Thank you, Mistress!"
"Did you like the paddle?"
"Yes, Mistress."
Cheryl offered the paddle to Janet, and she kissed it without having been ordered to. Then Janet knelt in silence, awaiting Cheryl's next use of her.
"I want to flog you," said Cheryl.
"Yes, Mistress."
"Nothing, no resistance? Or protest?" asked Cheryl.
"No, Mistress, none. I would have submitted to you without the chloroform."
"Why?"
"Because I trained you, Cheryl. Because I hope you know right from wrong," answered Janet.
"You're not going to beg me to stop?" asked Cheryl.
"No, Mistress. Please flog me?"
Cheryl then slapped Janet across her cheek, the sound clearly audible in the Dungeon. Janet fell to the floor, as she lost the balance that she had on her knees.
"Why can't you be scared of me?" screamed Cheryl.
"Because I was once nearly killed by a Domme who was evil," Janet answered.
Cheryl then pulled Janet to her feet, then over to the ceiling chain. Releasing her wrists from behind her back, Cheryl then locked Janet's wrists to the chain. She then activated the motor control, and soon Janet was hanging by her wrists.
"Prepare to be flogged, Janet!"
"Yes, Mistress."
"No need to count, Janet."
"Thank you, Mistress."
Cheryl had selected a flogger made of heavy leather strands that would mark on contact. She hefted it in her hands, feeling the weight. When Janet looked into her eyes, Cheryl looked back at her in anger.
"I'm going to leave your skin on fire, Janet."
"Thank you, Mistress."
Cheryl then began to strike, the flogger leaving red marks wherever it landed. Janet's entire body shook with every stroke.
"Ah!"
"Ah!"
"Ah!"
"Ah!" cried Janet with every stroke.
Janet dug her nails into her palms as she was flogged, her body one mass of pain as Cheryl would strike her in one place, then move on to another. Her underarms, breasts, thighs, and sex all were the target of the flogger, and Cheryl didn't stop.
Each stroke left Janet gasping as she cried out after each one marked her. Tears fell from her eyes.
"Open your legs, slave."
Janet did as she was ordered, and the flogger found it's way onto her sex and the inside of her thighs. Cheryl relentlessly continued to use Janet without pause or mercy.
"Slut!" cried Cheryl, "you're a slut, Mistress!"
"Painslut, Cheryl," gasped Janet, "I'm stronger than you, Cheryl. Much stronger."
"No!"
Cheryl ceased using the flogger, only to take a crop from the cabinet to replace it. She flexed it in front of Janet, holding it in her hands.
"Kiss the crop," ordered Cheryl.
"Yes, Mistress."
Janet kissed the crop, only to be rewarded with a series of slicing strokes across her breasts and thighs. She hung in her chains, moaning when the crop would strike her especially hard.
"Twenty," stated Janet.
"What was that?"
"You used twenty strokes on me, Mistress," said Janet.
"I wasn't counting, slut."
"You should have, Cheryl. Because I taught you to be responsible."
"What does that mean?"
"To properly care from the submissive under your control, and to know the amount of use that they can take."
Recessed into the ceiling were the lights, which could be bright or dim depending on their control. Janet looked up, and saw that one light had begun to flash on and off.
"You forgot to ask me for a safeword, Cheryl."
"Go ahead, then, Mistress."
"Alana Peters."
"NO!" screamed Cheryl.
She grabbed a ball gag, then thrust it into Janet's mouth. Cheryl then picked up the single tail whip, and lashed at Janet with all of her might, breaking Janet's skin, the blood flowing down her back.
Stroke after stroke hit Janet, tears falling from her eyes. The gag prevented her from pleading, just like before.
Cheryl continued to beat Janet, oblivious to anything else. The thick Dungeon door burst open, and Tina and Stephanie raced inside. The look of horror on Tina's face was shocking.
"Janet!" screamed Tina.
Tina tackled Cheryl in a few strides, knocking her off balance. From her belt Tina removed a pair of handcuffs that she cruelly locked on Cheryl's wrists. Then she placed a ball gag in her mouth, and drew the roller buckle tight.
Stephanie removed Janet's gag, then they both released her. Tina held onto Janet as they sat her on the bench, Janet's blood on their hands.
"Are you all right?" asked Stephanie.
"I hurt," said Janet, "nothing that some rest won't cure."
"You've been badly used."
"Yes," Janet weakly answered.
Tina dragged Cheryl to her feet, then forced her to her knees in front of Janet.
"What do you want me to do with her, Mistress?" asked Tina.
"Take her to the library after my wounds have been treated," ordered Janet.
"Why shouldn't I hang her from the ceiling and whip her until she bleeds, Mistress?"
"Because she's Erica's sister, Tina," Janet calmly explained.
After Stephanie had dressed her wounds, she had been given her nightgown and bathrobe. Janet then asked that they go to the library to conclude the events of the evening.
Janet sat at her desk, with Stephanie in a chair beside her. Cheryl sat in a chair, her arms still bound behind her back, and the ball gag still in her mouth, with Tina next to her.
"Janet, you really should go to bed, you've suffered a tremendous shock," said Stephanie.
"I'm all right, Stephanie, thank you. I'll rest later. Thank you for being my friend."
"I'll always be your friend, Janet," answered Stephanie.
"You might not be after we're done tonight."
"Why?"
"Give me my purse," asked Janet, "now we begin. Tina, you may remove her gag."
"I'm not saying anything!" protested Cheryl when her mouth was free.
"You don't have to, your sister will do the talking. Stephanie, I have a confession to make. Erica and Andrea didn't die in the plane crash in Mexico back in June 1993. She really died three years later from a car accident, in a new life that she had created. Andrea is still alive, and lives in New Mexico."
"Why?" Stephanie cried.
"Because she was dying of leukemia that didn't respond to treatment at first. From 1992 on, just after I had begun to serve her, she was sick. I always wondered why she never took me to bed, even though I was eager to please her. She was sick and dying and did not want to be an object of pity and sympathy. Instead, she wanted to choose her replacement in a grand manner, in the competition between Tiffany and myself."
"I never knew, I saw that she tired easily, but she never said a word to me!"
"That's all right, Stephanie. Now we come to the question of Cheryl, here. Tina, unlock her handcuffs. She has some reading to do."
"Yes, Mistress."
"Six months ago," Janet began, "after I returned from my vacation to Stephanie's, at the Charity event last June, Cheryl forced herself upon me, threatening to expose me if I did not train her as a slave and fulfill her demands. I agreed to them in order to avoid public exposure and humiliation. Cheryl did not want me to investigate her to discover her true identity, which is that she is Erica's younger sister. Cheryl, read this. This is a letter that I received this morning that a lawyer was supposed to send me years ago, but didn't realize his mistake until your substitute had a car accident on Wednesday in San Francisco."
Tina removed the cuffs, and passed the letter to Cheryl, who still looked bitter and resentful. She began to read silently, and then tears formed at the corner of her eyes.
"Read it aloud, Cheryl."
"My dear Janet," Cheryl began, her voice breaking with emotion, "I am writing this at a lawyers office in San Francisco because I have unwittingly placed you in danger. When I submitted myself to you as a slave, I failed to tell you of my younger sister, Cheryl Branford, who lives in San Francisco. Mine was not a happy family, Janet. When I had you investigated I discovered that you had been raised in a proper house with a mother and father. How I envied you, for money is no guarantee of happiness."
"Continue, Cheryl."
"I was born into a wealthy household that was wracked by constant arguments and fights. Finally my father left for California, and my younger sister left with him. My mother changed back to her maiden name, and changed my name as well. Cheryl chose her father's name."
"I retain few contacts with my sister, but she did say that she was guilty about not being in contact with her mother. When Eve died of a sudden heart attack, she grew to hate me, saying that I had abandoned her to live my life as a slave, having changed my face and name after my car accident."
"When I went to explain to her why I had given you the estate, Cheryl said that I was a pervert. That you were an enchantress who had conned me out of the estate and my fortune, then Cheryl threw me out of her Mansion, never to see me again."
"What Cheryl never wanted to hear was that I was dying of leukemia, and wanted to take revenge on you. First because she had taken no interest in Eve, our mother, and second for her wrongful perception of how you had come into my estate."
"Cheryl has said that she may one day come east and take revenge against you. I do not know what form this will take, but in her Mansion I did see some books about D/s."
"For you are my heir, Janet. From the beginning, I had a secret plan for you to succeed me. Please forgive me, Janet. I used you, denied you my bed, sent you to Stephanie, striped and beat you to ready you for the competition with Tiffany."
"In the library you will find a safe containing all of my journals from 1980 when the car accident placed me on the path to my submission to 1992 when I set up my own death and the competition. Please read them, Janet for you are my heir."
"Read the end, Cheryl," Janet instructed.
"I just wanted to say in closing that the reports that I have heard indicate that you have more than lived up to my expectations for you. You have done well, Janet. I shall always love you, deeply and with all of my heart. Please forgive me, Janet. I have written additional letters for Stephanie, Blanca, and a letter and tape for Cheryl. I love you, signed Erica Riken."
Cheryl broke down in tears, her crying filling the whole library with her sobbing. Janet passed a sealed envelope to Stephanie from her purse, and laid Cheryl's on the desk with the videotape as well.
"You had it reversed Cheryl," Janet began painfully, wincing from her wounds, "I was Erica's -- Alana's slave; not the reverse. I was a bored secretary in Queens looking for a thrill when I decided to go look for a Dominatrix -- and got involved in something that I didn't understand."
Cheryl continued to sob quietly, tears falling from her cheeks.
"In your madness, you thought that I had taken your sister for a life of D/s. In reality it was the reverse, Cheryl. Erica was my Domme -- and I served and loved her, even as she striped my flesh and drove me to orgasm."
"I'm sorry, Mistress!" finally cried Cheryl, "I thought that you had taken the estate from Alana. I had it all wrong, I didn't listen to her!"
"It's all right, Cheryl. Stephanie, I think that I'm ready for bed now."
"I'll always be your friend Janet. Always."
Stephanie held Janet in her arms, supporting her.
"Thank you, Stephanie."
Epilogue
From the Diary of Cheryl Branford
It is now six months since I have left Connecticut, and serving Mistress Janet. And my life has been changed forever.
My penalty for using Janet without a safeword was to serve her for 24 hours a day, seven days a week, for a month, which I readily agreed to. My punishment, in addition to being used by Janet (once she had recovered from my beating) and Tina, was to read my sister's entire journal from start to finish.
When I was set free to leave, Janet drove me to the airport and pressed an envelope into my hand. She said I would know when to open it.
Two months after returning home, I passed a sex shop in San Francisco and went inside. I was immediately sexually excited by the scent of leather and latex.
When I went home, I opened the envelope. Within was a list of Masters and Mistresses, all friends of Janet in California.
But the one I wanted was the first, Master Craig. I called him, and have been his slave for months now. Every weekend I drive to Los Angeles where he lives, and he uses me. I wear his ring, collar, and ankle bracelet. And carry his love inside my heart.
I went in search of my sister's sexuality to hurt her heir and replacement and in the process I discovered my own submissive feelings. I enjoy the lash and crop, the ball gag and paddle. The feeling of freedom and release when I submit to Craig, and when he takes me sexually I am fulfilled.
One day, I shall return to Greenwich and again place myself in submission to Mistress Janet. Only after I have served Craig and he allows my use by another, for I am now his slave.
There is no way that I can repay the agony that I placed Janet through in the six months that she trained me, fearing the viper in her Mansion. Strangely, she bore me no ill will. Instead, she made certain that I understood the nature of Dominance and submission.
I now love Mistress Janet, and finally have come to understand my sister Alana as well.
What is freedom, I wonder?
The End of Chapter Fifteen and "The Challenge."