Pain to pleasure

“Yes, Miss!” Thwack! “Thank you- fuuuu, Miss!” Thwack!

The whoosh of the aerated paddle was a comforting sound, no guesses nor surprises.

Miss had me at her mercy in my basement in what was starting to look like a BDSM playroom. I was currently on my belly, hooked into a spanking bench, looking like a hot submissive and nothing like a well-established OB/GYN. I am no longer her, but I still am, if that makes sense. As far as I’m concerned, my separated personalities have been working just fine without an inkling of me needing psychological help. Doesn’t everyone have a sense of putting on different hats, maybe even masks to match mood or situation?

Dr. Carrie Fryloch was my professional persona. Thirty-two, great at her job, loves delivering babies.

Carrie was my self away from work, the woman my family claimed they still knew. But closer now to the girlfriend and lover of Kayla Montgomery, twenty-two-year-old law student. Carrie is gifted at cunnilingus and often praised for her technique.

Princess was Miss's over-the-top, slutty pet who loved seducing strangers and having unplanned/unexplained sex.

And then Pet, who I was right now, a pain-slut and submissive who enjoyed edging and orgasmic torture from Miss.

Kayla had completely changed my life and made all of these personae possible. More to the point, necessary. And she was about to add a fifth.

This padded apparatus had legs where my four cuffs were connected. Miss’s hand, firmly gripping my hair, pulled my head up. She was using her right hand to deliver twenty blows to my exposed, reddened ass cheeks. I was oozing vaginal arousal, fuck that Dr. Carrie, my cunt was gushing in preparation for release. I was being punished.

Why?

She made up something about me being slow to respond to a command, knowing it didn’t really matter because I was going to enjoy it no matter what.

Such a paradox: a good punishment was not something to avoid, but something to embrace. Not just for the sexual pleasure it was bringing both of us, but for the bond that it created. I trusted that she would only take me as far as I could tolerate and enjoy. Yet there were always surprises.

Since the group debacle a month ago, we reestablished the strength of our safe words system. The color checks are more often, and we have a callback system of acknowledgment. Like now.

“Color, Pet!” a command, not a request. Fuck! her voice made me stupidly aroused.

“Green, Miss!”

“Green, heard.” Thwack!

"Ohhh fuuu! Thank you, Miss!"

Even saying green was becoming an orgasmic trigger for me.

The impact of several more strikes found me slipping away from awareness of my surroundings. I was getting close to the place Kayla had spoken of and I had read about: subspace. The brain tolerates the pain by creating a mental state where pleasure and pain coalesce. A person becomes detached, almost floating outside of self.

I wanted to detach from things without losing the depth of my connection with my lover, my mistress, my girlfriend. We had also made strides in that area: recognizing a romantic and emotional attachment to one another. She did not use the “L” word very often, but when she said it, it had meaning. Impact. Not dissimilar to the current strikes on my very sore ass.

Subspace started to become an emotional place as well. A way to purge tension, anxiety, and frustration over my not-soon-enough-ex-husband. (Quick update, I put Sparks, my dog in the divorce agreement. If Wesley won’t let me have him back, I'm demanding shared custody. I’m totally serious.)

I fell out of subspace with the thoughts of Wesley and was very close to yellow, and she sensed it.

“Enough for now, Pet,” she said as her hand gently caressed my very sore round ass cheeks.

Damn, I hadn't cum. “y-y-Yesss, Miss…” I was not quite exhausted. She released me, and I stood a bit wobbly.

She sat on the couch while I lay across her in a position usually reserved for traditional spanking. She was applying two different kinds of lotion and salve to my sore upper thighs, lower back, and pulsing gluteus maxima. It had all the right vitamins and all the soothing creams that you would find in different products. The right amount of healing factor. I’d be sore, maybe even bruised, tomorrow and maybe the next day, but within 48 hours, you would never know I’ve just been love-punished.

“I have a task for you, Pet.”

My ears perked up, and I turned my head towards her. She continued to work magic with her fingers down the crack of my ass towards my stupidly aching pussy. Doesn’t she ever get enough?

“What’s that, Miss?” I kissed her prominent nipple. I could tell by how turgid it was that this was turning her on.

“I want to bring a third person into our lives. Not in a permanent way but someone for you to train. I had yet to do this with any of my other sex slaves but as you know already, you are exceptional.” She bent, and we kissed passionately. “We'll bring another young woman into our play. We will introduce her to the things we do both here and at my place. Specifically, I want you to use her, train her, become her mistress. It will be a gift. One you have earned.”

No pain nor discomfort that I was feeling mattered in that moment. I was stunned to say the least. Me, having my own submissive? The concept had never occurred to me. I mean, Hippocrates is pretty straightforward: first do no harm. Even though with a few of the women I had been instructed to seduce (and three different men) there was a little bit of "I need to be fucked" aggression. But was that really domination?

“I, I don’t know what to say, Miss. I am grateful for the trust but not sure if that’s something I want for us. I mean as a couple. Kayla and Carrie.”

“Be assured, my fuck pet, this is not for romantic purposes. This is for sexual exploration and submissive joy. The theory is that as a switch, you will have a better understanding of what is being done to you when you can do it to someone else.”

My mind was suddenly alight. My stomach fluttered and I had a tremor cum. “Yes, Miss. Makes sense.” It’s amazing how well she knows me when I’m still trying to figure myself out. “That’s rather…scientific of you, Counselor.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. I loved it when she looked like she was 22. She was so fucking cute. “I still have two years of Law School, the LSATs, and then pass the bar; you know that.”

I turned, still sitting on her, but taking her in my arms. I kissed her fully on the lips and smiled. She was my redhead, green-eyed partner in this moment. My girlfriend. My lover. “And you will. I know it. Imagine it, a doctor and a lawyer in a relationship together. People might wonder when we ever have time to see one another.”

“Speaking of time. I can’t stay tonight. I have that early class. No pouting, you knew this already. You’ve had enough punishment, and I don’t want to have to do it again, but I will.” With a gesture, I knew it was time to rise. I stood with my arms behind my back, legs slightly apart.

“Yes, Miss.”

“Holy fuck, you are incredible.” She kissed my earlobe, my favorite erogenous zone. "You may cum after I leave. But only twice." I sighed and shivered. "Sleep well, Miss-in-training."

***

Speculation ran unhindered. I had texted from bed asking if she or I would be choosing someone to train. The thought had me scared to death and wishing I had been granted more than two orgasms.

I will. and I already have her

What? Who? How?

Jeezus, Carrie Go to sleep. kiss emoji.

I tried… but at 12:32 I was still awake when my work phone went off. The hospital.

Cleared throat. "Dr. Fryloch."

"Wendy Warshowski is six centimeters and really freaking out." I smiled at the tone of voice Fiona was using. I knew she meant the woman was naturally scared. "Contractions are fifteen."

I was up and getting dressed, the phone on speaker. "Hubby there? They breathing?"

"She's doing better than him. Anything special for her not in her pre-survey?"

"Just Billie Eilish, go figure. And she's right on time to the day."

"Of course she is. You rarely miss, Doc."

"See you before the next contraction." And I was off to bring another life into the world.

The server may serve

On Wednesday I was at Kayla's. We cooked gnocchi together and made love twice. On these date nights we agreed to not be Miss and Pet. On these nights, Kayla's guard was down and I learned more about her family and the intense and often cold relationship she had with her brother, Kyle. I wondered if there was something uglier than just sibling discord.

On her schedule...

The second fuck was amazing and then she wanted more of me! She lifted her head from between my legs; her chin had a sheen that showed amber in the candlelight.

I was panting. "Fuck, Baby, that was really incredible."

She gave me one last lick from anus to clit, and I shook. She then flopped down next to me, and I spooned into her. I loved the after cum quiet on these nights almost as much as being on all fours with a collar begging for her to -

"She's ready."

"Who?"

"You and your questions. Who do you think?"

'Ready' could refer to anyone. Her mom ready to hear her daughter is gay and happy. My pussy ready to be fucked by her strap-on we affectionately named Rod. Her Law School BFF Jocelyn ready to meet me. The girl she intended for my own pet. Oh my god! I flipped around to face her more excited than Christmas morning.

"My pet?"

She laughed more freely these days. I loved how it sparked her eyes. Those eyes, fuck me...

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Babe. You'll need to meet her, seduce her, then see if she's up for the dynamic. I have vetted her, and she has some interestingly edgy posts that have me hopeful."

My heart was racing, and I clenched my recently spasming pussy.

"It has to be Monday evening; she has a restaurant job. Princess will have to be in full hunter mode, ready to bag her prey."

I giggled and slapped her butt. "Mmm, Princess on the hunt.” I took a deep breath. “Fuck...I need to eat your cunt, Baby, right now!"

"See? You make a natural switch."

She lay back and spread her legs as I went down on her upside down.

***

Part of my mistress's skill set was to make me wonder and anticipate. It took me a few months to figure it out but like a scientific specimen, if you dissect it too much it dies. I just learned to revel in the butterflies.

I moved Tuesday morning's appointments in case things went well. Or perhaps, when they went well. Miss told me that the woman would be at the park off of the main drag near the University. It was a hangout for students and locals as well, so it wouldn't look awkward for Princess. Kayla assured me that Amber was not a patient of mine nor David's. And the way that Princess dressed and behaved, I was confident no one will see her as Dr. Carrie.

At 6:45 I left my car two blocks away and strutted down the sidewalk. My CFMs in clacking red looked classic with my miniskirt, pink tank (Princess's fave), and my blue, fuzzy, cropped sweater. My choker with the crown danced on my neck. My boobs were on full display, and my clutch was Hello Kitty. I deserved the looks I was getting, well, from everyone. Carrie could never do this.

Princess ruled any runway she walked.

I came around the corner near the fountain and there she was as predicted. She was on a bench trying to read but a dude with horrible hair was chatting her up. It was then that I realized she was the server at Helen's from our reconciliation date.

"Clever, Miss. She liked us."

Miss spoke to me in my earbud. "I told you I'd find you a good one. How does she look?"

"Pretty fucking cute in an I-just-threw-this-together-because-I-don't-know-how sexy-I-am college kid way. Loose ripped sweatshirt and holey jeans. What is it with that trend never going away?"

"Off topic, Princess. Get your ass in there."

"Yes, Miss." As per instructions, I took out my earbud and would report later.

Amber had dirty blonde waves up in a messy bun and was trying to ignore Mr. Lowkey Dipshit. She would smile nicely but there was zero vibe, as they say nowadays. I noticed her lips were fuller than I remembered. My Achilles heel.

"Hey Baby! I thought you were going to the library!" Princess squealed as she bent and hugged a shocked Amber.

I plunked myself down right between them and gave lover boy the look over my unnecessary but hot Ray Bans. "And you are?" No response, just slack-jawed staring at my boobs. I crossed my legs and paused. "Leaving. Right?"

He nodded, blushed and headed over to a pack of overly hip friends who were laughing and gawking and ogling. I decided a show might be in order. I had a feeling Amber would appreciate it. I ran a manicured finger over my top hem along my left boob. Then leaned in.

"I noticed he was a bit too much and definitely not enough, am I right?"

She was a little flustered and gulped as she took me in from legs to lashes. "Um, yeah, He was a bit much."

"Glad I stopped by then. I'm Princess." I offered my hand and she took it. I did not let go.

"Am- Amber." I kissed her hand and she blushed. A little leg squirm told me she was turned on already.

"Enchanté, Amber. Whatcha doin'? Homework? You look the type."

"Type of what?"

"That cares about shit, you know grades and blah blah blah." I gave a dramatic sigh then noticed the boys were still there. "Allez Vous, Chiens. That's French for fuck off!" They trotted away as expected.

Amber laughed, and it was delightful. "Why did you do that, you know, sit down and scare him off and all?"

Play it cool, Princess. Don't push. "You looked so bored. And I hate a pretty and intelligent thing looking bored. Eye rolls are not sexy."

Amber smirked, almost eye-rolling but catching herself. "Well, thanks, but I am not sexy. Not like you." She caught herself and freaked a bit. "I mean - um, you are but I'm not hitting on you or trying to - oh fuck, Amber, shut the hell up." She seemed to shrink a bit, and I had a twinge of sad for her.

"You bat for the other team, don't you?"

She straightened and swiveled her head so fast her smallish tits bounced in her sweatshirt. MmHm, No bra.

"That obvious?"

I giggled, hoping I looked more like 25 than 32. "To the professional lover like Princess. Or perhaps anyone who cared to ask."

She shock-whispered, "You're a sex worker?!"

Oh shit.

"Sorry! Jeezus Peezus, Princess. Learn some vocabulary! I meant I like to have fun with all kinds. But you, my little Amber Panda are one of my favorite types. And we have so much in common already." I placed a hand on her thigh and she shivered.

"What do you mean, in common?"

"Princess and Amber talk to themselves in third person. And we both have a keen dis-blech for guys who try too hard. No next time, Tyler."

She laughed even louder but had not moved my hand. "Oh my gawd! That's his name, for real. He's in my Com 2 class."

"All the better than. So, what do you say? Want to get a drink or a coffee and see where this goes?"

She hesitated. One of the signs Miss told me to watch for.

I leaned in, making sure she could smell my Dior. "I think we can have some fun, don't you. Amber Panda?"

She was breathing faster and then put her hand on mine. Bingo!

"I'd like that. That is if I'm not too young for you or something. Sorry, that sounded creepy."

"Not at all. If Princess had said the opposite, maybe. Just a drink. I promise." I made a slow cross over my chest and kissed my finger. She was watching everything. Damn.

She stood and straightened her clothes as if suddenly feeling underdressed. She picked up her messenger bag and pointed slightly. "There's a Starbucks, but the whole world goes there. I like a place called Benardo's on Third. Is that okay?"

I actually knew it from my early days when Wesley and I would walk the new city we had moved to.

Dr. Carrie! Get that fuck out of our head. He's drying me up!

Damn. Princess. Okay.

I stood. In my heels, I was at least five inches taller than her.

"I love your shoes! They're so...brave."

A great choice of words. I liked this girl. I hooked her arm and giggled. "Thanks! My mistress picked them out. Now, lead the way!"

She was shocked again but chose not to respond. Instead, she pointed and we strolled off arm in arm.

"So how old are you, Panda?"

"I'm nineteen. Is that okay?"

Holy fuck-me-all-night! "For coffee? I think so, yeah." She laughed. It was sweet and honest. "And everything else except beer and wine."

She shook her head as I sped us up a bit. "Why ‘Panda’? Not that I don't like it, but we just met."

"You have a sticker of one drinking tea on your bookmark."

She was really thrown by my simple acts of observation, and I was loving how wobbly it made her. That usually meant more honesty.

"Oh, right. Is Princess your real name? I mean, it suits you, I like it." She didn't blush this time but there was a slight lip nibble. So sexy.

"My mistress gave it to me. My real name is Luscious."

She laughed louder and freer yet. The outrageousness of the lie overtook the truth. I stopped, took her in my arms and kissed her. Not soft, not subtle. It was tongue-based lesbian porn hot. I was throwing her into the deep end of the pool, and she knew how to swim. We mouth battled for a while, then pulled away slowly.

"...wow..."

I smiled and pushed some hair behind her ear. She watched my hand like it was performing close-up magic.

I whispered. "You are in for such a treat, my little Panda. Do you trust me?"

She gulped then nodded. Her hands on my waist tightened as if to gain a sense of my realness.

"Right answer. Now..." I took hold of the back of her neck and kissed her again just not as long. "Are you sure you want that coffee?"

She shook her head and was almost panting. This was almost too easy. Now to drop in a little command per Miss's instructions. "You are going to a hotel room with me. The Sutherland. And if all goes as I expect, you will probably skip your morning classes. You feel me?"

Her eyes went wide and she shook a bit. Her fuzzy gaze held my intense one. "Yes, I understand. It's nutso but... I trust you."

Wow, Kayla. Jackpot choice.

"Good answer, Panda." I turned and headed toward my car and the Sutherland. I held her hand in a firm grip to give her some encouragement. "Unless you'd rather go find Tyler?"

She made a retching noise and I laughed. A genuine one, not Princess acting. My pussy was ruining the thong I had chosen for her as Miss said green was Amber's favorite color. I envisioned her on her knees removing it with her teeth.

Don't count your chickens, Princess.

Shut the fuck up, Dr. Carrie!

Shutting up...

TO BE CONTNUED "Take Two and Call Me in the Morning"

Thanks for reading. If you liked it, please hit the heart. If you really liked it, sit there and enjoy the afterglow then hit the star. And as always, feel free to leave a comment. I try to respond to them all.

Love Wins, Matt