The Challenge

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 Ten: The Rescue Part One

By sfmaster@worldnet.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 sfmaster@worldnet.att.net Revised January 2002

Attn: Readers please feel free to send an e-mail to the author. I do want to hear from you!

"The Challenge" by sfmaster@worldnet.att.net

Chapter 10: The Rescue

Part One: The Debt Recalled

February 1986

The party was held at the country home of Mistress Marcia, and her husband, Simon. They owned a successful catering business in New York City, and lived there during the week. But on weekends, they stayed in their country house up in Pawling, New York.

They owned an old farmhouse, with plenty of room. They had converted the basement to a D/s playroom that they kept locked unless they were having a party.

Erica and Lisa had been invited, and they stayed together almost all of the time. Food and drinks had been served upstairs, and the playroom had been reserved for play and demonstrations.

While there was a substantial interest in showing off homemade toys, whips, floggers, and the like, Erica really wasn't into that sort of thing. She much preferred to just go to the city, and buy all of her toys there in the shops.

Erica and Lisa sat together in the playroom, sipping their drinks. They chatted with other Masters and Mistresses that Erica knew, and made small talk.

"You're very successful," whispered a Domme in Erica's ear.

Erica turned and hugged her friend Erin, and kissed her on the cheek.

"Erin! I didn't know that you were here," greeted Erica.

"I didn't either, but my husband just begged me to come. I'll punish him later for that," laughed Erin.

"You're looking well," commented Erica.

"Thank you, a little dieting helps."

Erin was an Irish Redhead who dominated only men, and then she turned around and married one of her slaves. They lived over in New Jersey, and they both had their own careers. She stood 5 foot five in heels, and was wearing a leather bodysuit, and long gloves.

"Someone's just come in upstairs, and she's going to Domme a new prospect of hers."

"Really, who's that?" asked Erica.

"I've never seen her before, have you ever heard of a Mistress Lauren?"

"Yes," replied Erica, "I've heard of her."

"I want to get a drink upstairs, I'll see you later," said Erin.

Erica and Lisa had been sitting up front, in the front row of folding chairs next to some of the toys that their hosts had in the playroom. They had a set of stocks, some ceiling chains, a padded sawhorse, bondage platform, and finally a bondage cross.

"Do you want to leave?" asked Lisa.

"No, but let's sit in the back," said Erica.

"I think that I saw some masks around here."

"Get two," ordered Erica.

While Erica got two seats in the back, Lisa removed two masks from a table against one of the walls. According to D/s etiquette, once masked, nobody would identify them to anyone else. They sat in back, next to a male and female couple. He was her master, she wore a collar, and he was holding onto her leash.

Erica and Lisa sat down together, and placed masks on their faces. Their companions nodded to them in knowing silence.

"I would now like to introduce Mistress Lauren, and her Painslut," said Mistress Marcia, "who are going to provide a little demonstration for us this evening."

Lisa glanced at her watch, because she knew that they had a meeting tomorrow in Manhattan. She pointed at the dial, and Erica indicated that they should stay seated.

Lauren walked out in front of the small audience, wearing a Dominatrix dress in black leather, and matching heels. She was holding the leash of a cloaked and collared woman in a black mask that was walking behind her.

"Thank you, Mistress Marcia. This is my Painslut, named simply S. I am going to provide a demonstration of how a slave can take an extraordinary amount of use."

The audience sat in silence as Lauren unlocked the leash from the slave's collar, then removed her cloak. Under the cloak, the woman was totally naked, except for wrist and ankle bracelets. Erica noted the signs that she had been harshly used before.

`No surprise, given that she serves Lauren,' Erica thought to herself.

Without even asking for a safeword, Lauren pulled the woman over to the bar, forcing her legs apart then locked her ankles, then after bending her over, her wrists to the legs of the padded sawhorse.

From her bag she then removed a paddle, and displayed it to the audience.

"I shall start with a paddle on her behind," said Lauren.

Without ceremony or any other prelude, she began by delivering a modest blow to her slave's bottom. Then she followed that up with a regular series of strokes, each one harder than the last.

There was no counting of the strokes by the slave, or by Mistress Lauren. But in the back, Erica's trained eye counted each stroke. Soon, the slave began to emit little cries after every stroke or two.

Her bottom was fast progressing from lightly to mildly onto harshly punished, as Lauren rained blow after blow on her exposed and vulnerable ass cheeks. Lauren did not stop, pause, or show any mercy. Or any concern for her slave, either.

"Do you want to leave?" softly asked Lisa.

"No, hush," replied Erica.

After Erica had counted thirty blows with the paddle had been delivered, and the last series the hardest of all, did Lauren abruptly stop.

"Thank you, Mistress!" cried the slave.

There was scattered applause from the audience, most of who did not know of Mistress Lauren, Erica guessed. After this night, though, everyone would.

"Thank you," Lauren said to her audience, "now I shall continue."

Lauren then released S from the padded sawhorse, pulled her standing and wasted no time in locking her wrists to the ceiling chain. She attached a spreader bar to her ankles, opening her sex to whatever Lauren intended.

Casually, Lauren pinched the slave's nipples so hard as to make her cry out, and then dug her nails cruelly into her sex.

"I shall make you scream," threatened Lauren.

"Yes, Mistress."

From her bag, Lauren then selected a crop. This one was a long straight object, a piece of bamboo reed wrapped in leather. Unlike other crops, this one was intended for harsh use. There was no leather pad at the end, which was usually used on a slave. So the rod itself would be used.

Again, Lauren began to issue one stroke after another onto the taut form of S. While the first strokes were quite mild, others were considerably more severe.

Erica counted each stroke, her eyes recording each one and her mind counting them one by one. S would cry out occasionally, a stifled moan. The sound of someone who no longer cared whatever happened to her.

Lauren continued without pause or mercy again, heavily striping her slave. Erica somehow managed to keep count, even when Lauren circled around her slave.

S endured strokes to the inside and outside of her thighs, her sex, her breasts, and also to her injured bottom. She was not hanging off the floor, but instead was standing on the soles of her feet.

"Ahhhhh!" S cried sharply when the crop struck her sex, making her jump within her confinement.

"Silence, slave!" ordered Lauren, who slashed at S even harder.

Erica believed that she counted forty strokes before Lauren stopped. The stripes that Lauren had left behind would last for weeks, thought Erica, and would become real welts the next day.

`What sort of woman would want to endure such punishment?' Erica asked herself.

"Kiss the crop," ordered Lauren.

S reached forward and kissed the crop that Mistress Lauren offered her. She was allowed a few moments rest, before Lauren then produced a flogger.

Erica thought that at least the flogger wouldn't leave welts behind. It was made of broad soft leather strands that would hurt, but not mark.

Still, Lauren appeared to be putting all of her strength into each stroke, making S cry out with every other blow.

"Please, Mistress!" cried S, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Silence!"

`I know that voice,' Erica thought to herself, as she continued to count each stroke with the flogger.

"Do you want to leave?" asked Lisa.

"If you ask again," Erica quietly whispered, "I swear I'll thrash you tomorrow. We stay here."

"Yes, Mistress."

Erica had counted about thirty strokes with the flogger, with her concentration interrupted by Lisa. Her maid would pay for her transgression later.

"Thank you, Mistress," cried S.

"As you can see, S is a remarkable Painslut. For my final use, I shall use the single tail whip."

A murmur of concern emanated from the crowd. The single tail whip was a dangerous instrument, one that could slice flesh easily if not used correctly. Erica refrained from using it, and only kept it for display purposes.

Lauren exchanged the flogger for the whip, which she cracked a few times in the air for effect. Then she began to use it on S, who cried out from both fright and actual pain when it struck her already punished flesh.

Erica noted that tears were streaking down the cheeks of the slave's face, under the mask. Either this woman was a true Painslut, or there was something else at work here.

"Ahhhhh!" cried S.

"Silence, slut."

Lauren continued until Erica had counted twenty, then ceased, and offered the handle to the sobbing and beaten slave.

"Thank you very much," said Lauren to the crowd.

"Talk to Lauren, distract her, keep her away from S," Erica softly ordered Lisa, "I want to talk to her, alone."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Don't remove your mask, she must not know who you are!"

"I understand."

Two of Marcia's other guests helped release S, and sat her down on a wooden bench. S winced when her beaten bottom touched the hard wood, and Erica noted the tears on her cheeks.

Lisa engaged Lauren in conversation, and the Mistress made no effort either to comfort or to help her slave after her ordeal, as Erica would have done under the same circumstances. Erica was pleased that Lisa obeyed her orders, even if sometimes she did not understand them.

Erica poured a glass of water from a pitcher, and removed a few tissues from a box on a nearby table. S had been left alone, sobbing on the bench, with nobody to help her.

"Here," said Erica, "drink this."

"Thank you."

Up close, Erica was shocked at the condition of the slave's body. While the single tail whip had not sliced the skin, drops of blood were visible on the woman's back. Not just at the recent marks, but evidence of past marks as well. But it was her voice! A chill went down Erica's spine!

"Dry your eyes," suggested Erica.

S undid her mask, and covered her eyes with the tissues, drying her tears. She then looked up at Erica, and the universe seemed to stop.

It was the face of Dr. Stephanie Richards, the woman who had saved Alana's life that June morning six years earlier, and in another life.

The drive back from Pawling to Greenwich was made in silence, and Erica had asked that Lisa do the driving. Plans and ideas ran through Erica's mind, but they would have to wait until she had information first.

When they arrived back home, Erica took a glass from the kitchen cabinet, and placed three ice cubes within. Then she walked to the library, and poured straight bourbon over the ice. Finally, she seated herself behind the library desk.

"Mistress, are you all right?" asked Lisa.

"Go to bed, Lisa. I'll be along in a minute," ordered Erica.

"Yes, Mistress."

Erica stared at the ice in the glass, and then took a long hard swallow of the bourbon. The whiskey set her throat on fire, burning as it went down to her stomach.

`What's the use of great wealth if you can't use it?' she asked herself.

Erica walked to the library safe, and opened it. There were, for people in her position, special services available. Karla was one such provider who would do a job for her, no questions asked. She removed a manila folder, inside of which was an envelope. Erica opened the envelope, extracting a sheet of paper within, then picked up the phone on her desk. She pressed the buttons, and after a few rings, someone picked up on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Is this Karla?" asked Erica.

"Yes."

"This is Erica. I have a job for you."

"Go ahead."

"I want to know everything that has happened in the last six years to a Dr. Stephanie Richards of Greenwich Hospital."

"When do you want it?"

"Yesterday."

"This could be expensive," replied Karla.

"Money is no object."

"Forty-Eight hours. I'll call with the location and price."

"Done."

The connection was cut on the other end, and Erica replaced the receiver and drained her glass. Then she poured another, and drank that too, a burning anger building within her.

`What could have happened to Dr. Richards to make her serve a sadist like Lauren?' Erica asked herself.

Erica gripped the glass so strongly that it broke within her hand, scattering glass, ice, and blood on the desk. She ran to the bathroom, and cleaned and dressed the cuts on her hand.

I swear that I'm going to find out,' thought Erica, I swear.'

Two days later, Erica was seated in the library. She had met Karla, and paid him a sizeable amount of cash for the report on Dr. Richards. While driving home, she had wanted to tear the heavy manila envelope open and begin reading. Instead, she had waited until she returned home, ordered Lisa to hold all her calls, and then locked herself in the sanctuary of the library.

Karla had excelled even beyond what Erica had expected. The report started not six years ago, but instead was a report on Dr. Richards entire life.

Like Alana, Stephanie had been the daughter of an old Connecticut family. Instead of following the family to Wall Street, she had decided to become a doctor. Stephanie had gone to Medical School in Los Angeles, had trained as a trauma doctor to treat accident and gunshot victims, and was a talented and respected doctor in her field.

The year before Stephanie had saved Alana's life she had married, but had not taken her husband's name. Alana gazed at the wedding announcement in the Times, and at the picture of her attractive husband. How happy they looked together.

It was two years after Stephanie had saved Alana's life that things began to go horribly wrong for her.

First an incompetent doctor had misdiagnosed her brother, and by the time he was correctly diagnosed, a fatal cancer had spread through his body, killing him. Stephanie had protested to the Medical Authorities, and the entire affair had been swept under the rug.

Two years later, after a car accident, another incompetent doctor killed her husband in an emergency room. Again, Stephanie tried to have the doctor's license removed. This time, the doctor got off by retiring, then began to practice again in another state.

Stephanie had begun drinking, and after she had been convicted of a DWI offense she had made a minor mistake in a hospital, and placed on suspension. After being criticized by others in the Medical field, she had quietly retired. Or had she been forced out? Then she began to drink again, eventually passing out in a bar one night in Cos Cob CT, according to a police report.

The report didn't say how Stephanie had ended up serving Mistress Lauren. But it didn't have to, for Erica had found out what she wanted to know.

Now the only question was what she was going to do about it.

"Keith, how can I take a slave from another Domme?" asked Erica.

"I was wondering when you were going to ask me something," answered Keith as he sipped his after dinner drink.

Erica had taken Keith out to restaurant for a private dinner, but he knew just by looking at her that she had an ulterior motive for seeing him.

"I have a real problem here, and I need your help."

"Do you have a special interest in this slave? Is she very attractive, well trained, good in bed?"

"It's nothing like that, I have other reasons."

"All right, thank you for dinner, by the way," he began, "do you know if the slave been collared or has signed a contract with her owner?"

"I don't know," answered Erica.

"If she hasn't, then you're in the clear. She can just tell her former Domme that she has a new owner."

"What if?"

"If she has signed a contract, then either you will have to wait until the end of the contract, or provide a service to the other Domme in exchange for the slave," described Keith.

Erica realized that if Stephanie had signed a contract, then Lauren would never let her go if Erica wanted her. Lauren would want nothing better than to keep Stephanie for no other reason than that alone.

Even if she would trade Stephanie for something, Erica could imagine that she would do it in exchange for only one thing. Lauren's chance to get Erica under her lash once more.

"What are you going to do?" asked Keith.

"Hope that she hasn't signed a contract," answered Erica.

"Good luck, Erica."

"Thank you, Keith."

Karla's next job had been to find out Stephanie's daily life and schedule. She was tailed for a week, and all of her habits observed and written down.

Meantime, Erica had used her sources in the D/s community, and had found that Stephanie had not been collared by Lauren, nor had there been any talk of a contract between them. Lauren would take her little toy to parties, then beat the crap out of her in public. Erica had heard criticism of Lauren's behavior from others in the community. Good.

After a week's time, Karla delivered another report, this time on Stephanie's personal schedule and habits.

"Why are you interested in this woman?" asked Karla as he handed Erica the second envelope, as they sat together in a parked car.

"I thought that you were the one who never asked questions?" answered Erica as she passed him an envelope containing her payment.

"Just read what she did this week," suggested Karla.

"OK, sure. I may need you for other services as well."

"See you soon," said Karla.

Erica sat behind the library desk, Karla's report spread out before her. The report had documented all of Stephanie's movements, where she lived, and her personal habits.

Dr. Stephanie Richards had indeed fallen from grace. Though she possessed wealth, she had out rented the Mansion that she had shared with her husband. She lived alone in a small apartment in Rye, not far from the one that Alana had rented. She now drove an old Ford, not the Jaguar that she owned before.

Just as Erica had done, she had tried to assume a modest life away from the one of wealth and privilege that she had led before. Both of the paths in their lives had somehow led them to one in submission, and both involved serving a wrong Master or Mistress.

Karla was right about last week. She had gone to a gay bar, met a butch femme, who then had beaten her up after some kind of disagreement.

The report listed where she shopped for food, her lack of friends, her choices in reading, and where she went everyday (mostly to a bar for happy hour) and how she spent her time.

Erica did not have to be a psychologist to figure out that Stephanie blamed herself, and her profession, for killing her brother and her husband. She guessed that Stephanie had been very close to them, and she was seeking out physical punishment as a way of doing penance for their deaths: even if they had not been her fault.

She remembered how Stephanie had seen her in the hospital, even though she had now been passed onto other doctors who would put her back together. They had talked on many occasions, and Alana had looked forward to seeing the woman who had saved her life.

Outside, snow was falling, covering everything in a carpet of pure white. The radio was warning everyone to drive slowly and get off the roads.

"Lisa!" called Erica.

"Yes, Mistress," answered Lisa from the kitchen.

"Come here, I want you!"

Lisa entered the library, and sat in a chair, silently waiting for Erica's orders.

"Do you remember the woman at the party, S?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"I have taken an interest in this woman, and have been compiling information about her. I want her as my slave," stated Erica.

"Yes, Mistress."

Erica smiled to herself, since Lisa had not asked her the reason why. Good that after two years her slave, she had learned not to question her Mistress unless given permission to do so. For Mistress Erica had distinguished herself in her first two years, successfully training many slaves, writing articles on Dominance and submission, and was known in the community.

"I do not know if this task will be easy or difficult. But there is a reason for why I want her."

"I understand, Mistress."

"Thank you, Lisa. That will be all for now."

"I'm making some hot chocolate, Mistress. Would you like a mug?"

"Yes, thank you."

Erica sipped her hot chocolate from the mug, and watched as the snow fell silently onto the estate.

I owe you a debt for saving my life,' thought Erica, and you don't deserve a cruel Mistress like Lauren.'

Erica knew that sooner or later, Lauren would be unable to control herself, and would hurt Stephanie, just as she had done with Erica.

By that time, Stephanie will be my collared slave,' thought Erica, I hope.'

Part Two: The Rescue Begins

March 1986

Stephanie Richards, was if nothing else, a creature of habit. Her day was composed of going to the library, walking countless hours, window shopping at the mall, then finally ending up for happy hour two or three days a week at the Cork & Board; a bar and restaurant in Rye.

In the beginning, one of Karla's men had shadowed her, until Erica realized that Stephanie followed a set and predictable routine. Then Erica took over the job by herself, and began the slow process of gaining Stephanie's confidence.

Erica began to go the Cork & Board for Dinner alone almost every other night or so, even on days that Stephanie wasn't there. She wanted to become one of the regulars, so that the bar and wait staff would know her face.

Her mother had loved to read spy and espionage novels, and had avidly watched all of the TV shows during the 1960s. Alana had sat next to Eve, soaking up everything. She had read all of her mother's books as well, and had learned from them.

Years later, she would put into effect the lessons that she had acquired from her mother's choice of entertainment. She would worm herself into Stephanie's confidence, and then proceed from there.

Erica would eat Dinner at the bar, watching Stephanie. Her target would eat alone also, sometimes talking to another man or woman, even leaving with a complete stranger on occasion.

Lisa had complained that Erica was no longer eating Dinner at home, and Erica had explained what she was doing. Her Maid no longer protested and kept silent.

It took weeks, but over time Erica gradually ingratiated herself into Stephanie's confidence. First by giving her a cigarette, next they played the pinball machine together, buying her drinks; finally Stephanie invited Erica back to her apartment.

Erica had expected to find Stephanie's apartment to be a den of horrors, with dirty dishes piled high in the sink, bags of trash lying around, and piles of laundry. Instead the place was neat and organized, betraying nothing of the occupant's distress.

They first began by having nothing but sex. Stephanie would invite Erica into her bed, and they would make love until she passed out from exhaustion or drink.

But their lovemaking was strange, to say the least. Stephanie would willingly service Erica's breasts and pussy, her tongue driving Erica to one raging climax after another. But when Erica tried to reciprocate, Stephanie pushed her away from her sex.

Erica did not comment on her lover's marks, and stayed silent about them. Stephanie dutifully stripped naked in front of her lover, and then climbed into bed.

Then Stephanie pushed Erica away, only to invite her back the following week. Erica held Stephanie loosely in her arms in bed, their bodies sweaty from lovemaking.

Soon, Erica was her bed partner two nights a week. She never questioned what Stephanie was doing on the weekend, or the fresh welts that she possessed seemingly every week.

Ever so gradually, Stephanie began to respond. She became animated and alive again. Erica noted that she brought fresh flowers into her apartment, and began to wear perfume. Her dressing began to improve from drab to more lively colors.

One night, finally, Stephanie's wall of resistance broke down.

"It's my fault!" Stephanie cried.

"It's all right," comforted Erica as she quickly awakened.

"I killed them!"

"Killed who?" asked Erica.

"My brother and my husband," sobbed Stephanie.

In between sobs, Stephanie related the story of how her brother and husband had died, how she felt responsible, and how she had been forced to retire as a doctor.

"Drink this," ordered Erica, as she gave Stephanie a glass of ice water.

"Wait, I know your voice," cried Stephanie.

"Where?"

"The party, I remember now. You gave me water and tissues after Mistress Lauren beat me in public. Right?"

"Yes," admitted Erica.

"Why?"

"Has your Mistress ever taken you to bed, comforted you after a session? Found out why you wanted to be used?" asked Erica.

"No," answered Stephanie, shaking her head.

"She just beats you, is that correct?"

"Yes. That's all she does. Says I'm a worthless slut," cried Stephanie.

"I am Mistress Erica Riken, and I have taken an interest in you, Stephanie. You are not a worthless slut, just badly treated by an improper Mistress."

"I've heard of you. Other Dommes at parties talk about you, and I saw some of your writings at a party once. Lauren snatched them away, called you a bitch."

"Bitch no, Dominatrix yes."

"Why do you want me?" asked Stephanie.

"For my slave. You would be collared to me, we would sign a contract, and I would look after your emotional needs as well as physical ones. There is more to submission than just being beaten every weekend," described Erica.

"I don't know, Lauren is the only Mistress that I've served. She fills a need in me."

"Yes," said Erica, "but only one need. Which is why you took me to bed, because you wanted someone to hold you close. A proper Mistress would know to fulfill all your needs."

"I don't know."

"How did you meet Mistress Lauren?" asked Erica.

"I was in a gay bar one night, when I met Lauren. We went back to her place, and she took me down to her playroom. I told her that I wanted to be beaten, and that's been the way she's treated me ever since."

"That is not what submission is all about. What's your safeword?"

"Lauren won't let me have one, says I'm a Painslut, that all I deserve is to be beaten."

"No, that's not the way a responsible Mistress should conduct herself," answered Erica.

`Lauren has certainly learned all of the wrong lessons from Daniel,' thought Erica.

"If you're a Mistress, then use me over the weekend. Lauren is away so you can have me. A few more marks won't matter," offered Stephanie.

"All right, I have a house in Greenwich complete with a Dungeon."

"Use me then, Mistress?"

"Yes, Stephanie. I will to the best of my ability."

"Lisa!" called Erica when she returned home, closing the door behind her.

"Yes, Mistress," answered Lisa as she put down the laundry basket that she was carrying.

"In the library, now!"

When they had both seated themselves in their familiar places, Erica almost could not contain herself.

"My seduction of Stephanie Richards has paid off. She is not collared or under contract to Mistress Lauren, merely serves her as Painslut. Tomorrow, she will join us for the weekend."

"What are we to do, Mistress?"

"Unfortunately, Stephanie thinks that submission means that her Mistress can beat her as harshly as she wishes without a safeword. Then she is not comforted or helped by her Mistress afterward."

"Mistress, you do not use slaves in that way."

"True, in order to win her over I shall have to beat her severely at first so that she gets the punishment that she craves. Then teach her a safeword, and gradually wean her away from harsh discipline."

"Mistress Erica, what are we do to with Stephanie? How am I supposed to conduct myself? What sort of woman is she?" asked Lisa.

"We must be very careful here, Lisa. Stephanie Richards is a woman who has lost her family, her profession, almost her will to live. Almost all that she desires now is to be beaten severely by Mistress Lauren, my adversary," described Erica.

"What am I to do?"

"She will expect to be used, made to serve as a Domestic alongside you. If she makes a mistake, you can use her like any other slave. Except that if you give her the severe use that she craves, and you can fully expect her to intentionally do something to merit that use, you must comfort her in your arms. That will be the way that we win her over, by convincing her that she is not worthless."

"I understand, Mistress."

"Good, and one last order."

"Mistress?"

"Place the good China in the closet and put out the normal dinnerware. I strongly suspect that Stephanie will be breaking a few dishes to get our attention this weekend."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Excellent," replied Erica.

"Mistress, why are you doing this for one of Lauren's slaves?" Lisa asked Erica.

"I can't answer that, Lisa. You have to trust me. Please?"

"I shall obey all of your orders, Mistress Erica."

"Thank you, Lisa. For your loyalty."

"Yes, Mistress."

Later that night, sleep wouldn't come for Erica. She tossed and turned all night, her body in a cold sweat. The same way that she remembered feeling in the hospital.

The face of the full moon was visible in the window, but Erica did not see the man in the moon. Instead, Erica saw the face of Dr. Stephanie Richards, wearing her hospital garb, standing over her bed.

I owe you my life, Dr. Richards,' thought Erica, please let me repay the debt before Lauren goes too far?'

• • • • • Stephanie Richards was brought into the library, naked and collared. After Lisa had brought her into the house, she had been stripped and prepared in one of the downstairs bedrooms. Like all of Erica's other slaves, she was wearing nothing but a collar around her neck and bracelets on her wrists and ankles.

Erica sat behind her desk, wearing a white blouse, and plaid skirt. Her only indication of her position as Domme was the presence of a crop on her desk.

"Thank you, Lisa," said Erica.

"Kneel on the carpet, Stephanie," softly said Erica.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Do you, Stephanie Richards, agree to serve me of your own free will?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"That for the duration of your stay here, I shall own your body totally?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"That I have the freedom to use you sexually?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"That you shall forever remain silent about whatever happens to you in this House?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"What is your safeword?" asked Erica.

"I have no safeword, Mistress. I am nothing but a worthless Painslut."

"Not in my house, Stephanie," softly answered Erica, "your safeword shall be forgiven."

"Yes, Mistress. Forgive."

"The purpose of this little session is so that my Maid can witness your submission, and give you a final chance to back out. Do you wish to do so?"

"No, Mistress."

"Excellent, Lisa, you may take out guest down to the Dungeon, and chain her according to my instructions."

"Yes, Mistress."

As Lisa led Stephanie away, Erica wondered if Lauren had ever bothered to do anything else with Stephanie besides beat her. Probably not, she thought.

In her mind's eye, she imagined what was now happening in the Dungeon. Stephanie would see all of the familiar devices, then be led over to the wall. Lisa would make her sit on the wooden floor, and then lock her hands together. A chain would be locked to her ankle bracelets, to her wrists, then collar, lastly attached to the wall. Stephanie would have little freedom of movement chained in this way.

Erica wanted her to be alone, to feel the same kind of isolation that she had experienced from Lauren. Then she would punish her, but add a surprise also.

Lisa would be standing nearby, in case of trouble. Erica would have to dress herself, of course.

But that was the one of the responsibilities of being a Mistress.

After an hour had elapsed, Erica entered the Dungeon with Lisa following behind her. She had chosen a black sleeveless Catsuit, and a pair of knee high boots as her outfit. She had wanted to wear the leather corset, but had decided against it.

Lisa had changed out of her Maid's outfit into a leather bodysuit, one more suited to wearing in the Dungeon. There was a small closet that they could keep scene clothing stored in the Dungeon, so they would not have to run back up if they needed anything.

Stephanie had taken her isolation well, and she sat, naked on the wooden floor, pulling at her chains. Did Erica detect the presence of tears on her cheeks?

"Are you ready, Stephanie?" asked Erica.

"Yes, Mistress."

"You may release her, Lisa. I shall start with a spanking."

"Yes, spanking," answered Erica as she sat down on the leather-padded bench.

Erica sat her PVC clad bottom down the bench, and in no time Stephanie was draped over her lap. In the moderate Dungeon lights Erica could see the evidence of past beatings that Stephanie had endured.

Whack!

Whack!

Whack!

Whack!

Whack!

Erica used the palm of her hand to begin to spank Stephanie's upraised bottom. For all of the effect that she had, Erica might as well have been using a creampuff. Stephanie just lay there, unfeeling on her lap as her behind soaked up every swat like a dry sponge.

`Most women view this as being highly erotic," thought Erica.

Whack!

Whack!

Whack!

Whack!

Whack!

"Thank your Mistress," ordered Erica after she had delivered 20 spanks that left Stephanie's bottom red and Erica's hand hurting as well.

"Thank you, Mistress Erica."

"Kneel."

Stephanie resumed her place on the floor, her hands on her knees in submission. She looked like she wanted to be punished, and harshly used.

"Lisa, hang her from the ceiling. I want to crop her next," ordered Erica.

Even Erica's more experienced slaves would display some kind of emotion when she would announce what their Mistress would do to them next. Instead, Stephanie displayed no emotions at all as she was next made to hang by her wrists from the ceiling chain, and then finally Lisa locked her ankles apart.

"Excuse me," said Erica, as she rose from her seat, and walked outside.

"Mistress?" asked Lisa in bewilderment, since Erica never left a scene in progress.

"I'll be right back," said Erica.

Erica walked outside, and sat on the stairs. Her plans, to beat Stephanie until she cried then to comfort her, suddenly seemed worthless. Stephanie could take all of the discipline that Erica could give her, and more, until she wore Erica out. Because what she craved was pain and abuse.

She had seen what Lauren could do to her, and Erica suspected that Stephanie's public performance was only a small indicator of the amount of use that she could take. Stephanie would just soak up everything that Erica would do to her, and then beg for more.

Unless.........

"Okay, Mistress Erica," said Erica to herself, "time to show what you're made of."

Erica rose from the steps, dusted off her bottom, and re-entered the Dungeon. Lisa was standing next to Stephanie, who was straining to keep her toes on the floor.

"Mistress?"

"Just a minute, Lisa," said Erica.

Erica rummaged through the cabinet, until she removed the dildo harness and nipple clamps, and finally the crop that she wanted. She walked over to Lisa, and handed her the crop and clamps.

"Hold these," Erica ordered.

Erica locked the waistband of the dildo harness around Stephanie's waist, and then pulled the crotch strap through her legs. She felt Stephanie's slit, and found that the woman wasn't even wet. By now, even after a brief spanking, almost all of Erica's other slaves would be wet and ready. Instead, Stephanie had taken her spanking like it had been a medical exam!

"Aaaaaaah!" cried Stephanie when Erica inserted the phallus into her dry sex then locked the crotch strap, holding the shaft within.

Stephanie has divorced pain from sexual pleasure,' thought Erica, unlike usual D/s practice. She just wants to get beaten, but she enjoyed me in bed. I'm going to put those two parts of her back together.'

Erica opened her palm, and Lisa placed the two clamps in her hand. A smile creased her face, and impish grin.

Normally, Erica would tease a slave's nipple's erect with her fingers. But not this time, not yet, she had to lead Stephanie on until she wanted Erica sexually.

"You disappoint me, Stephanie. I thought that Lauren, bad Mistress that she is, you have at least properly trained you by now to react in the proper manner."

"Mistress?" asked Stephanie.

Erica then bent down, and started to lick and suck at Stephanie's right nipple. Her teeth grazed the nipple, and Erica worked hard to tease it erect. No matter how long it took.

For the first time since Erica had become a Mistress, she had a hard time sexually stimulating a slave in the Dungeon. Or the library, bedroom, kitchen, or anywhere else that she had used a slave before.

Spanked, hung naked, with a dildo in her pussy, Stephanie should have been sopping wet and horny as hell. Instead, she was a glutton for punishment.

Finally, when her nipple was erect, Erica placed the clamp first on the right nipple, then the left. She lightly pulled at both, making Stephanie moan.

Then Erica took hold of the ring on the outside of the crotch strap, that way a slave could be pulled along by the phallus inside her. Erica could have chosen the ribbed phallus, making even the slightest motion an agony of pleasure.

Pulling the ring she made a gentle back and forth motion, limited to a few centimeters. She hoped that it was enough.

"Aaaaaaah!" moaned Stephanie.

"I want you wet," ordered Erica, "when I take that phallus out, I want it wet and glistening, do you understand?"

"Yes.........Yes, Mistress," stuttered Stephanie.

"Crop please," demanded Erica.

Lisa handed Erica the crop, which she offered to Stephanie's lips. Stephanie kissed the instrument, and without pause or ceremony Erica began to use it on the bound woman.

Instead of using all of her strength Erica used light almost playful stokes. She wanted to stimulate and arouse, not give the pain that Stephanie seemed to crave.

After every series of strokes, Erica would pause, and give a pull either to Stephanie's nipples, or the phallus ring. Stephanie would moan and buck, her cheeks red with arousal.

It was the combination of mild discipline, plus the shaft between her legs that was breaking down Stephanie's wall of resistance. Had Erica just gone ahead and used Stephanie harshly, she would just have replayed what Lauren had been doing to her.

"Aaaaaaah!" cried Stephanie.

"Are you a slut?" asked Erica.

"Yes, Mistress. Your slut!"

Erica then pulled at the phallus ring, and then pushed in as far as she could go.

"Aaaaaah!"

Erica increased the frequency and force of each stroke of the crop. Each time that the leather pad struck Stephanie, she writhed in her chains, the dildo inside her rubbing itself against her cunt. Erica knew that she no longer hand to pull on the little ring on the strap, since every movement that Stephanie made did the job for her.

She hoped that having the shaft inside her would awaken her sexually to the combination of pain and pleasure that every slave was usually familiar with. Except for Stephanie, thanks to her own desire for punishment and Mistress Lauren.

"Aaaaaaaah!" screamed Stephanie, shaking as one orgasm after another coursed through her bound body.

Erica stopped her use, and held the crop in her hands, waiting for Stephanie to regain her composure. Normally, she would give a slave permission to have sexual release. It was all part of the procedure of being a Mistress.

But not this time, since Erica wanted to put together the parts of Stephanie's psyche that had divorced pain from pleasure. Which would be the only way that she would be able to win her over from Lauren. Or so she hoped.

Erica then removed the nipple clamps that had caused Stephanie so much stimulation, and then replaced everything in the cabinet.

"Lisa, you may take Stephanie up to my bedroom, and chain her on the floor. But do not remove the harness."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Thank you, Lisa," answered Erica as she walked out of the Dungeon.

Erica then walked up to the library, where she resolved to spend at least thirty minutes. She wanted Stephanie to wear the phallus inside, to walk upstairs, to hold it between her legs.

The shaft would drive her crazy, driving her to climax after climax. Which was something that Erica guessed that Lauren had either denied her, or had instead just wanted to beat Stephanie into submission.

What would have happened in the future to Stephanie had Erica not seen her at the party? She wondered, and it made her flesh crawl at the prospect.

After a half-hour had elapsed, she walked upstairs to her own bedroom. Just as she had ordered, Stephanie was kneeling on the floor, her hands bound behind her back, her collar locked to a chain from the ringbolt on the wall.

"Good evening, Stephanie. Have you been awaiting your Mistress?"

"Yes, Mistress Erica."

"Let me help you stand."

Erica helped Stephanie to her feet, and then produced a set of keys. Stephanie looked Erica with expectation in her eyes.

"I'm going to unlock you, Stephanie. Remember what I said in the Dungeon?"

"Yes, Mistress."

Normally, Erica would have ordered Lisa to clean up a slave prior to Erica taking her to bed after a scene. But not this time, since Erica wanted Stephanie to bond sexually to her right away.

Erica unlocked the collar chain, and coiled it and set the chain on the night table. Then she unlocked Stephanie's wrists, then the small locks that held the crotch strap.

"You may remove the strap," ordered Erica.

Hesitantly, Stephanie removed the shaft from within her sex. She moaned when it slid out of her sex, covered with her juices.

"Very good, Stephanie. I shall remove the belt from around your waist, and then you may clean yourself in the bathroom. Then I shall use you in the bedroom."

"Yes, Mistress."

Erica stripped off her boots and Catsuit, and the plastic scent of the PVC clung to her like a perfume. Ordinarily she would have showered first, but had decided against it. She wanted the scent to remain.

She lay on the bed, then waited for Stephanie to join her. Her fingers brushed against her sex, waiting for the attentions of another.

"Mistress?" asked Stephanie.

"Service your Mistress," ordered Erica.

Stephanie did not waste any time as she climbed onto the bed, and placed her lips on Erica's pussy. She licked and sucked at Erica's sex, her teeth playfully biting the lips of her Mistress. Then her tongue reached inside, and licked at Erica's love box.

But when her tongue reached Erica's clit, she drove Mistress Erica quickly from one climax after another. Erica moaned and bucked, bouncing on the bed. Stephanie buried her face between Erica's legs, pausing only for breath as she put all her energies into pleasing her Mistress.

"Ah!" cried Erica, as she climaxed time after time.

Erica did not want, or care, to know how much time had elapsed. She already knew that Stephanie was putting all of her being into pleasing her, unlike the stiff mechanical lovemaking that they had done in Stephanie's apartment.

Once Erica was sated, she pulled Stephanie from her, and lay her companion on her back. Then she playfully bit at Stephanie's nipples, her hands massaging Stephanie's wet slit. Finally, she knew that Stephanie was ready. Her kisses left a trail from her breasts down to Stephanie's sex, and then she serviced her new slave.

This time, Stephanie did not push Erica away, instead she welcomed Erica's attention, moaning when her sex was stimulated. Erica sucked at Stephanie's pussy, her tongue inside the love canal, tasting her wetness. Then she tongued Stephanie's clit, stimulating her love button.

Shudders of pleasure rippled through Stephanie, her moans increasing in volume, as she was pleasured time after time. Again, Erica did not want to forbid Stephanie her climax. No, there would be other times to do that. She wanted Stephanie to have an earth-shattering climax, one that Lauren had not even considered for her Painslut.

"Aaaaaaah!" cried Stephanie, finally climaxing, her bottom bouncing on the bed, shaking Erica along with her.

When Erica looked up from between Stephanie's legs, she saw tears falling from the woman's eyes. Her companion was sobbing.

"Hold me?" begged Stephanie, "please?"

Erica had planned to strap on a dildo, and use Stephanie long into the night. But just as she had changed her plans about harshly beating her and then instructing her about a safeword, so she had decided that idea was wrong as well.

"Yes, Stephanie," answered Erica as she held the sobbing woman in her arms, a tissue in her hand to dry Stephanie's tears.

Erica held onto Stephanie all night, her sleep broken by Stephanie's occasional crying. She did not chain Stephanie during the night, and only once did she go to the bathroom. Erica had awakened to find Stephanie gone, and then watched as her lover rejoined her in bed.

The End of "The Challenge" Chapter Ten Part One