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 that prohibits such behavior, stop reading immediately!!!
"The Challenge" Chapter Two PT2: Death and the Resurrection
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 CH02 PT2 Continued:
Greenwich CT: January 1982
"Don't make this any harder than it has to be," cried Eve Peters, as mother and daughter sat together on the couch in the library.
"Mother, please! We've already argued about this before. There's nothing that will change my mind," said Alana, swallowing, as she brushed her black hair away from her eyes.
"Maybe another doctor or clinic," suggested Eve.
"No, I've had enough doctors," shouted Alana.
"Alana, please! You don't know what you're doing!"
"Yes, I do Mom, please!" begged Alana.
The afternoon sun shone through the library windows, and a breeze came through the open windows. Eve and Alana arguing, as they had for months, repeating the same discussions over and over again. They sat on the couch together, and tears flowed onto both their faces.
"I've had you followed, do you know that?" asked Eve, "what's the benefit of wealth if you can't use it? I know you have an apartment in Rye, just over the border. That you bought an old car so you wouldn't use the new BMW I bought for you after you finished therapy. That you dress up on Friday and Saturday nights in a wig with plenty of makeup and go to those horrible sex clubs in the city and - and," Eve buried her face in her hands, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes.
"And what, mother?"
"The first couple of times, the detectives couldn't get in. But then they bought some leather clothes, and billed me, and followed you. And saw you getting whipped in public!" cried Eve.
"I'm sorry mother, but it's true."
"You're not going to deny it?"
"No."
"That's even worse!"
"Mom, I've got a confession to make. During therapy, I found that I liked pain. After I could walk again, I started going into Manhattan and found a Dominatrix to use me. I enjoyed it!"
"Is that what you like, being beaten?" asked Eve shock on her face.
"It's not like that. Then I wanted more, so I started going to the S&M Clubs."
"No, no!" cried Eve, aghast at what her daughter was telling her.
"Mother, I just can't explain it, maybe I was just this way all along, and didn't know it. Until the accident, and the therapy, and all the pain I underwent, brought it to the surface."
"That you're a sex pervert!" accused Eve.
"No Mom. There are terms for what I am: bottom, submissive, and eventually slave. But it's just what I feel."
"You might be discovered. Think of the scandal!"
"I already have. Why do you think that I disguise myself? One night, I was in a club, and saw a Wall Street lawyer that I once worked with. He didn't recognize me."
"What happened to the debutante? To the girl we hosted a ball for in Manhattan? Who went to Radcliff and Harvard? Who learned horseback riding in Europe? Is that what you want to be, a sex slave?"
"If that is what it takes to be fulfilled, yes, mother."
Eve broke into tears, sobbing. Alana reached outwards and held her mother tightly to herself, trying to comfort her. She grabbed a handful of tissues from a box on the couch, and dried her mother's cheeks.
"No, no, I've already lost one daughter, I won't lose another," cried Eve.
"She left of her own accord, you know that. Just as I must, but I'll always be nearby. I promise I'll always live near here, in Greenwich, Darien, or just over the border in New York," consoled Alana.
"But what about the scandal?"
"I'm taking care of that," answered Alana.
"You're planning something, tell me what. Now!" demanded Eve, "I know that you've been seeing a plastic surgeon in Manhattan, and a lawyer."
"You won't like it," cautioned Alana.
"I don't like the fact that my daughter is going to sex clubs, either. What are you up to?"
"All right, mother. You said it yourself just now. What is the use of great wealth if you can't use it? Well, I'm going to use some of it, for me."
"How?"
"In a few weeks, you won't have to worry about Alana Peters going to sex clubs, because Alana will no longer exist. I'm having the plastic surgeon give me a new face. Meantime, the lawyer is creating a new identity for me. Everything from birth certificate to college degree."
"No!" screamed Eve, "no!"
"Mother, it's the only way that my face won't end up on the Daily News! The only way to avoid a scandal is to cease being Alana Peters. I've decided to give up my former life and create a new one, one where I can explore my sexuality without worry. I'm going to take a normal job, live in a regular apartment, and cease to be one of the upper class. I gave up my Wall Street job because I want something else in life! I'm sorry," comforted Alana, as she held her mother in her arms, and dried her tears.
"What's going to be your new name then?" asked Eve, disbelief in her voice.
"Erica Riken," answered Alana.
In February, Alana had gone for plastic surgery. Alana Peters had disappeared into South America. Erica Riken then suddenly appeared and rented an apartment. She had gone from working a Finance job on Wall Street to being a bookkeeper for a liquor distributor in Darien.
When she looked in the mirror, Alana no longer looked back at her. Instead, there was someone different, who could explore the new life that she had chosen.
Gone were the Yacht Races, Horse Shows, Golf (that she had hated anyway), and summers at Martha's Vineyard. Along with the Gucci gowns, unlimited expense accounts, and Louis Vuitton handbags that she had liked.
`I've crossed the Rubicon,' Erica said to herself one evening, as she drove into the city.
Erica was wearing a clingy black dress, heels, and had even made some friends in the scene. Finally she was free to find a Dom, someone that she could serve as a slave.
Part Three: The Wrong Dom
September 1982
Erica drove her seven-year-old Chevrolet up the driveway to her Master's house. She had spent the day shopping, doing chores, fully aware that she wouldn't be returning home until late Sunday. Past the point where she would be able to get anything done before the workweek again started. Daniel had been lately asking for her to begin her slavery after work on Friday night, but Erica had refused.
While it was true that she did want to serve, Erica still needed time to recreate herself. To let the two women who inhabited the same body to reconcile themselves into Erica Riken.
Daniel owned a house in Port Chester, NY, just over the border in New York, which was a forty-minute drive from her apartment in Darien, CT. He owned a company, or so he told her. They had met one night at an S&M club in Manhattan. Erica had found him very attractive. Slim, athletic, well built, he seemed the very model of a man that she had always been attracted to. He usually dressed in black, leather of some kind.
For several months now, she had belonged to him. They had started by going to dinner together, and he had charmed her thoroughly. Since Daniel was to be her first Master, he had told her that everything that she was going to learn about submission was to come from him. So he had ordered her not to read any books about S&M, and she had obeyed.
Erica locked her car, and put her keys in her purse. She walked to the front door, and opened it with a key that Daniel had given her. Since it was summer and still quite warm, all she was wearing was a blouse, skirt, and modest heels.
Locking the door behind her, she quickly stripped herself of all of her clothes, hanging them in hall closet. On the small table was a collar and bracelet set, which Erica rushed to lock upon herself. Erica locked the cuffs around her ankles, then her wrists. Brushing her long black hair around her neck, she locked the leather collar around her neck. New to her confinement in recent weeks was a ball gag. Erica picked the object from the table, opened her mouth wide, and inserted the red rubber ball into her mouth. She buckled it tight at the back on her neck, breathing through her nostrils. Finally, she knelt down on the carpet, and locked her collar to a chain attached to the wall. Then she locked her wrists together. Erica was now bound and helpless, with a key nowhere in sight to release her. She leaned herself again the wall to wait.
It took only a short time for the ball between her teeth to become uncomfortable. Once, she had not closed the leather straps tightly enough, and Daniel had punished her severely. So afterwards, Erica had always obeyed his orders.
Bound as she was, Erica didn't know if she was alone in the house, or if her Master was upstairs. She had been ordered not to enter the house beyond the foyer. Some weekends Daniel would be in the house, other times he would be returning home.
Either way, Erica felt vaguely uneasy about her vulnerable position, that she shouldn't be helpless this in this manner. Resting on her knees, even though she was on a piece of carpeting, soon became uncomfortable. While she had told Daniel about her accident, and that her body really wasn't fully healed, he didn't seem to care.
After what seemed like an eternity, she heard the key turn in the lock. Erica felt a breeze of outside air brushing against her naked skin, and she remained rock still, facing into the house. She didn't know who had entered.
She felt like squealing when her ass cheeks were roughly parted, and a finger probed her tightly closed anal opening. Erica was glad when she received a couple of spanks on her behind. That meant her anus was safe, at least for now.
Erica was then pulled to her feet, and she quickly took a glance at Daniel. He was dressed in a summer shirt, shorts, and sandals. He unlocked the chain from the wall, and led her into the living room. He made her sit down on the couch, and removed her ball gag.
"Thank you, Master," said Erica as she took several deep breaths.
"You're welcome, slave. Did you wait long?"
"No, sir."
"Good. I made Dinner earlier; all you have to do is reheat it. I'll unlock your hands, and then you can put everything in the oven. Then we'll eat."
"Yes, sir."
While Erica considered herself a good cook, and had offered to prepare Dinner on numerous occasions, Daniel still insisted on cooking himself. Even though he was a lousy cook, in Erica's opinion.
Still, he had roasted a Chicken, which he had managed to cook without it being dry or tough. They ate together, him clothed, Erica naked. When they were done, Erica cleaned up, and washed the dishes.
"Thank you, sir," said Erica.
"You're welcome, slave."
Glancing at the clock, it was now 9 PM. She knew that Daniel would take a shower, change, and would be ready to use her. Which was what she wanted, she desired. To be used and wanted by a Master.
Erica was then pulled over to a chair, and her wrists were locked behind her back. Her collar chain was then locked to the chair, making her helpless once again. Daniel's hands touched her breasts, and her nipples quickly became erect. He touched her stomach, and playfully tickled her, making her giggle.
"Be back soon, slave. And don't go anywhere!" he admonished.
"Yes, sir," Erica said in response.
Erica waited patiently, indeed, what else could she do, as Daniel prepared himself. Some weeks, he had blindfolded her, but not this time. Erica wondered if this was by design, or just what she perceived as erratic behavior.
Daniel preferred to use her while wearing a black leather vest and matching leather shorts. Once he had finished bathing & dressing, he reappeared in his usual outfit.
"Ready, slave?"
"Yes, Master."
Alana was released from the chair. In the basement of the house, Daniel had built a small playroom. While nothing like the Dungeon that Erica had been used in by Mistress Martine, it still contained an impressive amount of D/s toys. Daniel pulled Erica along, down the stairs. Erica was glad she wasn't hobbled; else she would have had trouble negotiating the steps.
The playroom was one of the basement rooms, and the walls had been painted black. Small but intense lights shone from the ceiling, which provided some illumination. Ringbolts were mounted on the walls to secure slaves to, there was a bondage chair that would allow access to the occupant's sex, a leather clad bench, and a cabinet to hold various toys.
Erica had been Daniel's slave for months, and she never knew what would be awaiting her. In recent months though, something had changed. It had begun when Daniel had told her to stop seeing her friends that she had just recently made, and that she wasn't supposed to read any books on the scene. She had uneasily complied with his orders.
She was placed on a rug in the center of the playroom, and made to kneel. She did so in silence, awaiting Daniel's next move. He got a riding cop from the wall, where it had been hanging. Then he walked back to her, and placed its tip under her chin. She shivered, nervous about what would happen next.
"Do you accept your discipline, slave?" Daniel asked.
"Yes, Sir," Erica quickly answered.
"Prepare to be used then."
Erica soon found herself hanging from a ceiling chain, her legs opened by a spreader bar. She was now totally vulnerable to whatever Daniel would do to her. This was what she had waited for, what she had wanted all week. First striped and then used sexually by her Master Daniel. She didn't have to even look at herself to know that her nipples were hard.
"Count, slave!" Daniel ordered.
The first stroke with the thin crop was delivered across her exposed sex, making Erica cringe with pain. Normally, Daniel would work gradually up to striking her sex. Instead, he had begun there, and Erica suddenly feared what would happen next.
"One!"
"Two!"
"Three!"
Daniel maintained a steady rhythm of strokes with the crop, each one landing on a different place on her exposed body. Hanging by the chain, her legs held open by the bar, and counting each stroke, Erica soon began to perspire. She could feel the drops running down her exposed flanks, and she grew ever more excited after each series of strokes.
"Twenty."
"Twenty-five."
"Thirty."
Erica realized that she was now in for a severe session, having been cropped far longer than usual. In spite of the large numbers of strokes, and the fact that she felt like her skin was on fire, she had entered the point where she could "ride the pain." Divorcing her mind from her body, she went beyond the usual pain/pleasure feeling that she usually felt while being used.
"Kiss the crop," ordered Daniel.
Erica suddenly came back to Earth, her mind and attention elsewhere as she again realized where she was. Quickly, she kissed the crop's handle, again and again.
"Thank you, Sir!" Erica stuttered.
"You were somewhere else."
"Yes, Sir!"
He held her in his arms, which were also covered in sweat from his exertions, and kissed her. He forced his tongue into her willing mouth, and she kissed him passionately in return.
"Would you like to be whipped?" he asked.
"Yes, please, Sir!"
Daniel smiled, and then walked over to the cabinet. He replaced the crop on the wall, withdrawing a long sinuous black leather whip from the cabinet. It was a supple, oiled piece of leather. And it would hurt terribly!
"Ready, slave?" Daniel asked.
"Yes, Sir!"
"No need to count, darling."
With the first stroke of the whip, Erica exploded into a series of explosive orgasms. The whip would curl itself around her naked body, and then come to rest with an explosive crack. It struck between her breasts, and legs. She screamed with both pleasure and pain, all at the same time. Tears fell from her eyes and down her cheeks as she felt the wonderful release that she had been waiting for all week.
Erica didn't know, nor did she care, how long she was whipped, or even how many strokes. But when it was finished, and she hung limply from the chain, she was glad. Daniel first released the cuffs on her ankles, and then released her wrists.
"Thank you, Master," breathed Erica.
"You're welcome, slave."
Daniel carried Erica upstairs into his bedroom. He washed her off with a towel, and then he proceeded to strip and clean himself off as well. Then he jumped onto the bed, and began to kiss her all over. He started at her feet, and moved up her legs to her sex, then stomach, her breasts, and finally her mouth. Erica enfolded him in her arms, and opened her legs to accommodate him.
His cock was already erect and hard, and he entered her wet slit easily. His cock was long and hard, and he penetrated her, making Erica moan with desire and want. In no time, he established a rhythm as he drove her into the bed. Again and again, time after time.
Having already experienced orgasms while being cropped and whipped, Erica came quickly. Daniel held back, extracting the maximum amount of pleasure that he could from her.
"Ooooooh!" Erica moaned, "ooooh!"
Finally, they came together, both experiencing orgasms at the same time.
"Thank you, Master," said Erica.
"You're welcome, darling. I'd like to ask you something."
"Yes, Sir?"
"You work for a liquor distributor, don't you?"
"Yes, Sir."
"I want you to steal me a case of whiskey," he asked.
"I can't do that. I've never stolen anything from any place that I've worked," Erica answered, "and liquor is valuable stuff. We have a security firm keeping an eye on everyone, and tight inventory controls. And liquor is a controlled substance, too."
"I want you to steal a case of whiskey," Daniel repeated, even louder.
"Sorry, I can't. I'll gladly buy you one, sir, as a gift......."
Enraged, Daniel got up off the bed and removed a cane from the dresser. With pause or mercy, he delivered ten swift and harsh strokes to Erica. Cringing from the unexpected and sudden attack, Erica curled into a ball to shield herself from the cane's impacts. Crying from the sudden change from pleasure to pain, Erica was then slapped by Daniel.
"Disloyal Bitch!" he roared.
He then turned her onto her stomach, flattening her onto the bed. Before she realized what was happening, Erica felt her ass cheeks being forced apart.
"No!" cried Erica in horror, "no, please!" she begged.
Erica had never really liked having her behind invaded; the very thought had always repelled her. She knew that Daniel's stiff cock would deeply invade her, opening her anal hole. Daniel didn't bother to use any lubricant of any kind. His cock was rammed inside her, forcing its way to her puckered opening.
"Open up, cunt!" roared Daniel.
"No, sir," cried Erica, "please," she cried as tears fell from her eyes.
Even though her bottom hole was closed tight, Daniel managed to force his cock inside her. Erica resisted, then tried to open herself. But Daniel pushed himself inside her, and Erica's anus hurt from the unwanted intrusion. When he finally penetrated her, Erica screamed. Then she felt his hot come squirt itself into her anus, the final humiliation. She had not screamed that way since the day she had been ejected from the Mustang, with death a certainty facing her.
That night, Erica cried herself to sleep, with Daniel totally oblivious to her, uncaring.
The next day, she took a shower in the morning, and was horrified to see red in the tub's water. Her ass was sore, and hurt! Later, she took some toilet paper & Vaseline, and cleaned out the blood from her behind. Erica wanted to cry. What had happened to Daniel? He had been a kind, caring Master for months. He had fulfilled all of her desires, training her, disciplining her. But taking her in the rear against her wishes!
Afterwards, they ate breakfast together, which Erica had prepared. She had made batter, and had heated up a waffle iron, which had gone unused until she had become his slave. They ate juice, waffles, and coffee together. The Times was spread on the far end of the table, but neither of them looked at the paper.
After they had finished, Erica brought the dishes into the kitchen to clean up. She was washing the dishes in the sink, wearing an apron, when she suddenly felt Daniel's hands surround her and hug her from behind.
"Erica, I'm sorry," Daniel began, "I don't know what came over me."
"Daniel....."
Daniel turned Erica towards her, and kissed her. He held her tightly, pressing her apron-clad form against his. He was wearing an old sweatshirt and pants, and looked slightly mussed.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have used you against your will like that. I'll never do that again."
"Thank you, Sir," replied Erica.
For the rest of the day they made leisurely love in the bedroom together. Sometimes, Daniel would strike her with the crop, but it was only for a mild reminder of Erica's position.
It rained, and seeing the drops on the windows made the day seem even more dreamlike and lazy. Finally, though, afternoon had come and Erica had to leave. She again showered, and dressed.
"Erica?" Daniel asked.
"Yes, Sir?"
"Before you leave, I have to tell you something."
"Yes, Sir."
"Next week, I'm taking on a new slave, who will be a companion for you," said Daniel.
"Thank you." The thought of sharing Daniel was one that Erica had never considered!
"Her name is Lauren Singer."
The End of Chapter Two PT2