The Whip Master Read online

  Fifty watched as the man placed his hands on Dorothy's waist to draw her gaze to his face. His smile opened slowly to reveal straight, sparkling white teeth.

  "When a rule is broken, we explain that rule. What is the First Rule of Engagement?"

  Beads of sweat glimmered on Dorothy's upper lip and all bravado disappeared. Tears began to stream down her face. "Obedience to the Master and all those he places in authority," she cried, facing the floor.

  One held Mr. Smythe back as Dorian showed his true mastery in bonding with a new submissive. "Look at me. You are never to look away from me unless you are instructed. Did you break the First Rule of Engagement?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "We do not discipline without need or purpose. We also do not discipline so that the maid finds pleasure. If you believe yourself able to slip into subspace during punishment, I assure you that we can prevent that from occurring. What did you do to break this rule?"

  "I didn't answer your questions immediately or honestly. I'm sorry, Mr. Graye," Dorothy cried. "I beg your forgiveness and accept your decision about my candidacy without question."

  "Are you absolutely certain you broke a rule?"

  Dorothy paused. "Yes, sir. I mean, I think I did. Didn't I?"

  Fifty watched in awe as his hands kneaded her hips, keeping her connected with him. She found herself as perplexed as the poor woman.

  "I teach my girls something that other houses do not. Just because you are a submissive does not make you my submissive. You cannot break the First Rule of Engagement unless you are with a Master who has the authority to command you. I don't assume that authority is mine—I accept it if offered."

  "Highly unusual methodology, yes?" Mr. Smythe asked One.

  "Very much so. He inspires loyalty and trust by showing the maids that they have choices in their service. The types of choices they make helps him determine the area of service, and the kind of Master, that suits them best. That is the primary reason why he refers to them as maids instead of slaves. It's also why we have a ninety-eight percent success rate in long-term contracts."

  "You've managed to turn the institution into a matchmaking service," the old man announced. "Permanent placement has always been the desire of The Gentlemen's Club, but we have not been successful because of incompatibility between Master and slave. Many contracts are discontinued after the first year, and half of the slaves return to vanilla service within five years."

  "That is because the TGC allows imbeciles like Wilfred Cliffton to be members."

  "I doubt that honor will be his for much longer after tonight," Mr. Smythe said with a chuckle. "I am impressed, madam. Truly impressed."

  Dorian had waited for the whispers to discontinue before he resumed his evaluation. "Tell us how your prior Master had you behave."

  Dorothy trembled against her restraints and sputtered out the words. "I am a slave, mere property, and one who is forever and always beneath those who are my superiors in all ways. My purpose is to serve and provide the Master his desires without thought or consideration to myself. I am to give myself freely and fully, show no preferences, offer no demands or protests, and silently accept anything offered to me with gratitude. I am nothing if not for the Master I serve."

  "Yet you refer to yourself in the first person. Interesting. Do you believe these words to be true?"

  The woman began to cry again. "Please, Mr. Graye. I am so confused. What am I doing wrong? Tell me so that I can fix it."

  Dorian touched her face gently. "You are doing nothing wrong, darling. What is happening is that your eyes are opening to the truth that service is not all black and white. There are, in fact, many gray areas—if you will excuse the play on my name. The conflict that you are experiencing is also showing me much about your inner nature, including who you are inside and what drives you. What was your safeword?" He flicked the clamps lightly, redirecting her attention to her position.

  "Slaves are not permitted safewords, sir," she gasped. "Safewords are for quitters and cowards."

  "Safewords are for your safety, both physical and mental. Your safety and well-being are the most important thing in your existence. Remember that. I hold the stance that those who refuse to allow a safeword, especially in the beginning of the relationship, care only for their own pleasure and not for the submissive's heart, body or mind. It is not until absolute trust is developed on both sides that a safeword can be removed from the vocabulary." Dorian lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes. "The word we use at Graye Manor is 'seriously'. If that word is uttered, all things come to a stop and discussion begins. Abuse of the word can result in dismissal, so be frugal in its use. Fifty?"

  "Yes, Master Graye?" she rushed to his side.

  "Please keep notes while I ask questions. If you see any physical display during the questioning, place your observations in parenthesis." He moved like a stalking wolf around the bound woman. Fifty was quick to observe that Dorothy's effort to keep eye contact failed frequently, and that her gaze was continually cast downward.

  "May I have your submission for the remainder of our time together?"

  "Yes, sir." There was no hesitation.

  "Do you consent to following the rules of emotional honesty and verbal truth?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Do you agree that if I discover you breaking either rules, I may punish you?"

  "Yes, sir."

  Hmm, Fifty thought, noticing that the woman responded to the word 'punish' by lifting her chin higher and widening her eyes. It excited her! She wrote down her observations and eagerly watched for more.

  "To clarify, I do not want you to tell me what you think I wish to hear. Be free with your words, but be aware of how they are used."

  "Yes, Master."

  "I'm not your Master," he reminded her firmly.

  "Yes, sir, I'm sorry." Her answer reeked of uncertainty as her emotions and mind conflicted. Fifty jotted down her thoughts on the edge of the paper.

  "What repels you?"

  Dorothy gulped, her eyes flickering back and forth as she forced herself to keep eye contact. "I can't answer that honestly. I'm really quite untested. Other than the things I mentioned earlier, I have no idea of what would repel me unless I experience it."

  "Well said." Dorian's eyes did not shift from hers, and he continued to touch her ever so slightly. Fifty's mouth went dry as she observed the woman's change in breath patterns, the twitch of her cheek, a hard swallow. What was he trying to do to her?

  "Have you ever been in a sling before?"

  Dorothy's body stiffened with terror. "N-no, sir. N-never," she stammered fearfully.

  "A sling frightens you?" Dorian leaned forward and touched her chin. "I can only assume that, since you have not been in one yourself, you observed something. Explain your fear."

  "I cannot, sir."

  "Fifty? Place two marks in the corner of the paper. One for looking away and the other for lying to me."

  "Lying, Master Graye?" Fifty repeated, watching the woman's face turn white.

  "Yes, lying. I asked her to explain her fear. She said she could not. That is a lie."

  "But I can't!" Dorothy cried out.

  "Are you saying you are physically incapable of answering my question?"

  "No! I just don't know the answer." Panic registered on her face.

  "Do you not know or do you not want to tell me?"

  Silence. Dorothy's face straightened as she regained control and responded ritualistically. "It is not my position to deny you, sir."

  Fifty caught the tiny nod of Dorian's chin, signaling her to note down the comment. He would provide help for Dorothy to heal the trauma she had experienced.

  "Would you have any objections to being pierced?"

  "No, sir." she answered, slipping back to a different place of control. A tiny smile played on her lips. "Any place but my face, that it. I'm rather fond of my features without any modifications. I could say the same of my clit, as well."

  Dorian smi
led with a genuine twinkle in his eyes. "You are quite the smart-ass, aren't you?" His hand slipped between the moist juncture of her thighs and touched her slit, making her moan. Fifty waited with excitement for the moment of truth that would determine the direction of the interview. Would the woman be able to reveal her ability to place her trust in Dorian's hands?

  "Yes, of course, sir. Better, though, a smart-ass than a dumb-ass. Umm, I'm sorry, sir?"

  Fifty wanted to cheer as she saw the look of triumph on her beloved Master's face. Dorothy's heart belonged to him now. Dorian laughed. "You are about as sorry for making that comment as I am for hearing it. You will come to know many exotic pleasures in my house, Dorothy. Like my namesake in Oscar Wilde's book, The Picture of Dorian Gray, I am an explorer of the sensual." He ran his hand along the inside of her thigh as the scent of her arousal filled the air like sweet perfume. "I will take the time to know you better than you know yourself. I will search for new ways to open your mind, body, and soul..." His fingers slid into her sex.

  She sagged as her legs weakened to his touch. He continued. "I have traveled the world to learn the art of pain and pleasure, and have been mentored by the best handlers in the business. They taught me the importance of quality, which is the basis for all I do here. I built this Manor, and my reputation, by bringing in only the best that money can buy. I cut corners with nothing. My maids reflect me in every possible way. Sometimes even in ways that I had not recognized in myself." He winked at One.

  "Some houses, like TGC, believe that their submissives possess an intrinsic value, and that because they are beautiful, they therefore have worth. It is taught that the submissive serves no other purpose but to provide the Dominant's senses with pleasure. I, however, believe in delving into the submissive heart and mind. It has taught me to take what others see as merely pretty, and view it as new, complex, and vital."

  His voice was a mere breath of sound against her ear and Dorothy shivered. "I can safely help you achieve your secret desires and take you to a world beyond your wildest fantasies. Do you desire that?"

  "Yes, please," Dorothy begged.

  "Tell me everything you desire," he said, his deep voice commanding every breath in the room.

  "I desire it all. Sex. Acceptance. Purpose. Value. Worth. Hope. Love…"

  "What is your greatest fear?" he asked, his fingers still stroking and probing in a gentle motion between her thighs.

  "Fear. I am afraid of fear. I'm sorry, sir. I am not good at revealing secrets. I struggle to know they even exist," she sniffed.

  "Say the words. Tell me what fear controls you," he whispered.

  "I'm… I'm terrified of what I am."

  He released her restraints and lowered her gently to the wooden floor, which was kept warm by grills running beneath the planks. Dorian sat across from her, forcing her to stay upright and keep eye contact. "Tell me what you are."

  "An enigma. I crave pain as much as, if not more than, I fear it. I fear the loss of control, yet I long to let go of it. That is the root of my problem. Constant conflict, and that's the reason they dismissed me," she confessed as her tears were captured by the edge of her lashes.

  "You have already given up your control to me, so you have conquered one of your fears." He touched her face gently. "Your conflict is because you have the heart of a submissive, not a slave, and not every house can appreciate what that entails."

  "I'm sorry," she sobbed into her hands.

  One raced to the woman and held her tightly. "There is no shame in being a submissive, sweetheart. One is not better than the other, just different. You're conflicted because you were told it was wrong to feel the way you do. I was trained at TGC, as an exclusive. I often felt the same way you do."

  "You did? How did you conquer the sense of inadequacy?"

  "I released myself to my Master." One gazed lovingly at Dorian. "He showed me the beautiful truth about myself."

  "There is more. I am not supposed to enjoy pain." Dorothy's voice was low as tears spilled from her eyes. Both One and Dorian gently stroked the weeping woman, coaxing raw emotion from the depths of her soul. "I've never been able to come without pain being involved. It's necessary."

  "This guilt and shame is unbearable for you, isn't it? It burns inside, eats you alive. Am I correct?" Dorian asked. She nodded, slowly meeting his gaze. "There is nothing wrong with you. There never has been. The fault is with the fools who told you differently. Understood?"

  With a deep, cleansing breath, Dorothy nodded.

  "You are forbidden from turning off your mind. You will remain engaged the entire time—even when the pain makes your desires burn in white hot flames. You will learn the truth about your own limits, and stop being afraid of reaching into the depth of your soul. You will discover the freedom in true nakedness. Starting tonight."

  With his hands on her shoulders, he pulled her to her knees and his foot urged her to spread her legs apart. Slowly, she lowered her cheek to the ground and rested it on the back of her hands. She yelped as the first stroke across her bottom landed with a resounding crack. She twined her fingers together and trembled as the wide strap fell again and again.

  Fifty watched in silent fascination as Dorian swung the strap to impact with evenly spaced blows. His handsome face held a look of determination and concern. How long would the woman hold out until she surrendered to him, Fifty wondered. He would not stop until she did—one way or another.

  There! A tremble in the shoulders. Dorian's arm drew back in a wider arch and, with the increase in intensity, he also slowed his pace. Fifty's mouth hung open, watching every muscle under Dorothy's damp skin tighten and tremble with the strain. Suddenly, a guttural sob erupted from Dorothy's mouth, and she screamed as the orgasm snatched over control of her body.

  "Good girl," whispered a warm tender voice, drawing Fifty's attention away from her own quivering need. Dorian was rubbing the back of Dorothy's neck as he stretched her out on the floor. "Breathe…"

  "I feel so weak," she whispered. "So soft."

  "We are not done with your discipline. One? Please escort her to the white room as soon as she is able to walk. Fifty, help her."

  The two women supported Dorothy on either side and led the wobbling woman into a smaller room. It was decorated like a physician's office, complete with an examination table and glass cabinets that contained a variety of equipment for various medical procedures, piercing and penetration play.

  "Climb up here and get comfortable," One said, stretching Dorothy's arms over her head and securing them. Her ankles followed and were spread wide.

  "What is going to happen?" Fear registered on Dorothy's face.

  "Whatever Master Graye decides."

  "M-may I close my eyes?"

  "No," Dorian responded as he joined them. "Why are you to be disciplined?"

  "I-I can't recall, sir. I'm sorry," Dorothy whimpered, her eyes gazing down as he stood between her legs and snapped on a pair of examination gloves.

  "The strapping was for lying. This will be for looking away after I told you not to break eye contact." He knelt between her legs, placed his hands on her pussy and gently opened the hot, wet folds. His long fingers slid into her warm canal, first one and then two, finally adding a third as she relaxed against his hand. He brushed her swollen clit with his thumb, all the while keeping his eyes glued to hers.

  "Please…" she whispered, her naked flesh brightening to a rosy hue as he produced a healthy sized dildo which he covered with a condom. "Pain…"

  "I don't always choose to administer pain when I discipline. Especially if pain is so enjoyable," Dorian announced, urging the tip of the device into her pulsating opening. "Don't resist me. I will only make the agony go on longer. One? Assist me, please."

  Dorothy groaned as he began to rock the toy deeply in and out of her sex in slow rhythmic thrusts. One's hands moved to her breasts and released the clamps without warning, causing Dorothy to cry out as the blood began to flow back into the tips.
>
  "Stop fighting," One said. "Let go of your control and receive his gift."

  "I need pain!"

  "No," Dorian stated. "Open yourself to me. Wider. Now come!"

  Dorothy's eyes rolled back as she released herself and allowed the orgasm to sweep over her body. Her body twitched and jerked while her head thrashed back and forth. Tears spilled from her eyes as she finally relinquished her control to her new Master.

  "What happened?" she cried. "This is impossible."

  "Dorian Graye is the master of the impossible," One said softly.

  "See that she is cared for tonight," Dorian ordered Fifty, joining the two women at the head of the table. "Release her."

  "I have never witnessed a breaking like this," Mr. Smythe coughed out. "I'm in awe. This technique… it works?"

  "Dorothy? Tell Mr. Smythe how you feel."

  The naked woman sat up, gratefully accepting a soft blanket around her shoulders and a bottle of water. She shivered under Dorian's gaze, this time easily meeting his eyes.

  "At peace. Wanted? Accepted? I don't know the words. What I am feeling is more of an impulse—this need to be on my knees and at his feet. Not because I have to, but because I want to. I've never been driven by anything but pain before, and now…" her voice trailed off. "Is it possible to feel both broken and completely whole? Is there something wrong with me?"

  Dorian stroked her face. "You are perfect. I want you to rest up tonight. Fifty will help you with all your paperwork and assignments in the morning."

  "Paperwork? Assignments?"

  "Why, yes," Dorian smiled. "You don't just walk in and become a Graye Maid."

  "You are accepting me?" The look of shock covered her face. "I passed the interview?"

  "You will begin formal training when lessons resume in the fall. In the meantime, do you have family or friends that you wish to visit?"

  "No, Mr. Graye. I'm alone."

  "Then you are welcome to stay here and partake in the workings of the Manor. Fifty? Please see her settled. Mr. Smythe, I must say good night, and thank you for bringing me such a precious treasure."

  Fifty paused before flinging her arms around Dorian and squeezing him hard.