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This is a work of fiction. Names of people and merchandise, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18 when involved in sexual situations.

WARNING: This is a BDSM story that contains graphic scenes depicting pain.


Summary of Prologue and Chapters One through Six

Justine recounts her current scene with Mistress Laurine where her Mistress has used both pain and pleasure to push Justine into a dark abyss where she surrenders control to her Mistress.

Justine then recounts how she got there. Justine was once a partner in a Big Four accounting firm and was the engagement partner on a multinational client audit based in Paris. Justine, 43, married, with two adult children, usually would go to bed early instead of hitting the town with her younger team members when the work day was finished.

A flash of mid-life crisis encourages Justine to join her crew. Sasha, one of the team members, suggests they go to a BDSM club in the outer fringes of Paris that she heard about from some of her Paris colleagues. Sasha meets up with a mysterious woman while Justine bides her time before she calls it a day. When leaving, the woman, Laurine, invites Justine to join them. Laurine dispatches Sasha to get drinks and admits to Justine that she only befriended Sasha as a means to meet Justine. Justine tells Laurine that she is not interested in women, but Laurine gets Justine to admit that she is interested in Laurine.

Laurine convinces Justine to go to a private room for a 15 minute introduction into the BDSM world – no strings attached. Justine accepts, and ends up having one of the most violent orgasms of her life after Laurine teases and then hits Justine with a flogger.

Mistress Laurine asks Justine if she wants to go home with her. Justine wants to, but also wants to take time to put her affairs in order. Mistress Laurine is insulted by Justine’s failure to immediately go with her. She throws Justine’s clothes out into the corridor, pushes a naked Justine out into the corridor and locks the door behind her. Justine scrambles to pick up her clothes. To her embarrassment Sasha is there to help her. Sasha takes Justine back to the hotel and suggests that Justine can now be blackmailed with the knowledge Sasha now has of Justine’s public nudity. Sasha accompanies Justine back to Justine’s hotel room and takes advantage of her, slapping her to the ground and then forcing herself on Justine’s prone body. Justine submits to Sasha and they have furious sex that is satisfying to Justine but is a hollow victory for Sasha.

The next morning Justine puts her personal and professional life on hold. It only takes two phone calls and she realizes that her existing life is disposable and not worth keeping. She puts her efforts into finding Mistress Laurine. She returns to the bar and in return for an exorbitant amount of money secures her phone number. Justine calls but is hung up on. Mistress Laurine lets Justine stew for a few hours and then texts Justine to come to her house.

At the house, Justine is blindfolded and secured by her hands in an upright position. A unknown woman performs analingus on Justine while Mistress Laurine stands in front of Justine and uses her hand to bring Justine to an orgasm. The blindfold is removed and Justine discovers the unknown woman is Sasha. Mistress Laurine tells Justine that she summoned Sasha and discovered the entire story of Sasha’s abuse of Justine. They then go to a separate room where Sasha is held. Mistress Laurine administers ten strokes with her flogger that incapacitates Sasha. Justine comforts Sasha and then, at Mistress Laurine’s direction, brings Sasha to a rousing orgasm using her mouth.

Mistress Laurine then announces she will administer ten additional strokes for Justine’s insubordination the previous night, but that Sasha will serve as Justine’s “whipping boy” for her transgressions with Justine. All of them know that Sasha will not be able to endure another whipping. Justine intervenes before the first stroke is administered and accepts the whipping herself. Mistress Laurine’s love for Justine increases with Justine’s sacrifice, and after the whipping is administered, lays on the floor where they can reach a climax and fall into the Abyss together.

Sasha wants to submit to Justine, and in Chapters 5 and 6 does so. Justine whips Sasha with a leather strap, each unburdening themselves of the resentment and anger towards the other. They fall into the Abyss together, now as lovers.

Chapter Seven

It was a beautiful sunshiny morning in Paris. I’d really started to settle into Mistress Laurine’s house, which was located in a fashionable neighborhood near a large park. She was training Sasha and me in the fine art of dominance and submission. There was so much to learn. What a change from my world of international finance to Maltepe Anal Escort one of submission to another and the giving and receiving of unconditional love and pleasure. I knew I had finally found my place in the world. I was in love with Mistress Laurine. I was in love with Sasha.

Little did I know that my world was constructed with paper mâché.

Mistress Laurine gave me a small bedroom on the second floor that I was quickly thinking of as home. And speaking of home, I also couldn’t suppress my thoughts about my trip in the coming weeks back to the States to see my husband Carl, who was still pretty much in the dark on my change in lifestyle. I’m sure he was suspicious of my extended absence. I usually don’t hold over on an engagement more than a week. It had already been two. I still hadn’t quite figured out how to handle that interaction.

I put on my well-worn jeans that always travel with me and a simple yellow cotton top. To celebrate my new freedom I decided to go braless. I pulled back my hair in a ponytail with a rubber band. Because it was Paris I couldn’t go completely casual so I selected a newly acquired pair of Kate Spade high heel sandals to complete my ensemble.

I was about to head out to pick up my usual caffé latte and chocolate croissant at the corner patisserie when there was a knock on the front door. I opened the door to greet a woman who was very well dressed for an 8 a.m. visit. She was tall and striking in appearance like Mistress Laurine but with long wavy red hair. She also shared the same piercing green eyes as Mistress Laurine. She was wearing a red tweed jacket over a silk blouse, a matching wool skirt cut about 3 inches above the knee and an expensive set of black leather stilleto heels. I’m above average in height and this woman in her heels was at least 6 inches taller than me. She had a large bust and long slender legs. She was beautiful, but the kind of beautiful that has a hard edge . . . an edge that can cut. She dressed and carried herself in a way that spoke business, not pleasure.

“Bonjour,” I said in my passable French.

“You’re American,” she replied in English in that haughty tone Parisians are infamous for using with foreign visitors.

“I am.” I tried to be civil.

“Are you another one of Laurine’s stray cats that she finds on the streets of Paris?” Those were fighting words and I didn’t even have my morning coffee.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“I didn’t offer it. Now are we going to play games or are you going to let me in?”

“I think we’ll continue to play games. You’re not a nice person.” I was suppressing the urge the slam the door in her face.

“You don’t know the half of it. Now kindly step aside.”

“I don’t think so.”

She struck me in the face with the palm of her hand. Now that’s twice in the span of two weeks that I’ve been slapped in the face. And that’s the only two times in my life. I staggered to the side and the woman pushed passed me into the entrance way. I was too stunned to put up a fight.

“Laurine!!” she shouted.

Mistress Laurine was coming down the stairs, still tying her robe, and looking at the stairs so she wouldn’t stumble. “What the devil is going on here!” she said while still focusing on the stairs. As she reached the bottom of the stairs and looked up, a flash of recognition crossed her face and the color immediately drained from it.

“Mistress Anastasia!” She dropped to her knees and bowed her head, with her forehead touching the cold Carrera marble floor.

“That’s better,” said Mistress Anastasia. “Now who is the insolent bitch that just had the pleasure of meeting the palm of my hand?”

“I’m sorry Mistress. She didn’t know. That’s Justine.”

I was still rubbing my cheek. “Justine is it? Is she one of your recent converts? And an American?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Tell her to kneel and kiss my shoes – – both of them.”

In the short time I’d known Mistress Laurine I’d never seen her lose one speck of her composure. Now she was cowering in the presence of this insufferable woman. “Please Justine,” was all that she said.

I felt like I just walked into the middle of a foreign movie. I thought it best to play along. I knelt on the floor in front of Mistress Anastasia and kissed her left shoe and then her right. I backed slightly away on my knees, extended my arms in front of me and kept my nose to the floor. My heart was beating so quickly that I had to hold my breath just to try to slow things down.

Even though I had my head down I could still see Mistress Anastasia turn to Mistress Laurine and approach her, using the same imperial tone with her. “You thought I’d forget, didn’t you?”

“No Mistress Anastasia, of course not.”

“I’ll never forget what you did. I’ve come here to first even the score with you and then to collect on my debt. Are you prepared to satisfy both?

“Yes Mistress.”

I saw Sasha peeking around the corner from the kitchen. She must have been in there when Maltepe Yaşlı Escort Mistress Anastasia arrived and came to see what the commotion was. I saw her looking at me with her eyebrows raised. I wiggled my left index finger at her, motioning for her to go away. I hoped Mistress Anastasia wouldn’t see me.

There was silence. I heard the sound of Mistress Anastasia’s stiletto heels clicking on the marble floor and echoing off the foyer walls as she approached me. I buried my nose deep into the floor and could sense her hovering over me. It was not a good feeling. I saw her move her right foot toward me. She raised her foot and ground the sole of her shoe into the fingers of my left hand.


“You worthless slut, did I tell you that you could move your hand?”

“No Mistress Anastasia.” I quickly realized that this woman was used to getting her way and the best way to deal with her was to let her have her way. I desperately wanted to rub my throbbing hand but didn’t dare move a muscle.

“I’ll deal with you later. Now who is the slut that is hiding in the kitchen?”

Mistress Laurine replied. “That’s Sasha Mistress Anastasia.”

“Slut Sasha, get your whore ass in here now!”

Sasha meekly walked into the foyer dressed in shorts, a t-shirt and flip flops. She knelt in front of Mistress Anastasia and bowed her head down until it was touching the floor.

“Laurine. What kind of house are you running here? These sluts are dressed like this is a homeless shelter.”

“I’m so sorry Mistress Anastasia. I usually start their training at 9 a.m.”

“I would never allow them to be dressed like this, no matter what time it was. Both of you sluts, get up now!”

I felt like I was being run over by a steamroller. I scrambled to my feet, as did Sasha.

“Take off all your clothes and assume your position for inspection. I’ve got business to discuss with Laurine.” She turned her back on us and went into the kitchen. Laurine followed. Sasha and I assumed the position we had been taught, with our legs slightly spread and our hands clasped behind our heads. We had no choice but to wait in that position until both of our Mistresses returned. The marble floor felt ice cold on my bare feet.

In my nakedness I shivered from the cold of the morning air in the foyer, the marble floor sucking the heat out of my body, and the anticipation of what was to come. I knew my world was going to change and I wasn’t confident it was going to be for the better.

We were able to hear a spirited conversation going on in the kitchen. My French was a bit rusty but I could hear that Mistress Anastasia was still angry about an incident that happened two years ago. I couldn’t tell exactly what happened. I could make out the name Nicole. There was a loud crash, likely a coffee cup hitting the floor. Then I could hear slapping sounds and then the unmistakable sound of Mistress Laurine crying. I was most unnerved by everything I was hearing. My new world was now being shredded into little pieces.

Moments later Mistress Anastasia came back into the foyer pulling Mistress Laurine by her hair. Mistress Laurine was nude. She knelt on the floor. Her hair was disheveled and there were tears streaming down her face. There were two clear red marks on her face, likely where Mistress Anastasia had slapped her. Mistress Anastasia went into the adjoining living room and pulled a chair into the foyer and sat. She sat there in silence and waited. My arms were now starting to ache as I had not gotten out of the inspection position. My left hand was throbbing. I still didn’t dare move.

About five minutes later the doorbell rang. Mistress Anastasia got up out of her chair to answer the door. She opened it and let in a delivery man who was holding two suitcases. He was of average build, slightly overweight, wearing the uniform of an express delivery company. He had dark hair and a swarthy complexion. His mouth dropped open as he surveyed the scene in front of him. Mistress Anastasia told the man to place the suitcases in the first bedroom on the left at the top of the stairs. That was Mistress Laurine’s bedroom. The startled delivery man walked past a nude kneeling Mistress Laurine and Sasha and me, both nude and in the inspection position. He tried his best not to stare as he went by but he was clearly not successful. I’m sure that the three of us shared the same deep sense of humiliation as this total stranger was able to leer at us. After he delivered the suitcases Mistress Anastasia tipped him and closed the door behind him.

Mistress Anastasia turned to Mistress Laurine. “I’ll be staying in your room until my business here is finished. After we’re done here get your things out of my room. I don’t care how you whores make your sleeping arrangements.”

Mistress Anastasia walked towards me and stood in front of me. I tried my best not to look scared and not to shake. I’m sure I wasn’t able of accomplishing either. She reached out and grabbed one of my nipples and pulled me to Maltepe Zenci Escort the center of the foyer. The hurt and humiliation of this treatment piled on to the heel into my left hand and the leer of the delivery man. I didn’t take my hands away from the back of my head. When I reached the middle of the foyer I again spread my legs in the inspection position. Mistress Anastasia was establishing her dominance over this household, and quickly.

Without her eyes leaving mine Mistress Anastasia said, “Laurine, tell me about this whore.”

“Her name is Justine. In her former life she was a partner in an international accounting firm. She is also married. Her husband lives in New Jersey. I met her at the Club Mirabeau about two weeks ago. I introduced her to the world of dominance and submission. She has chosen to give up her former life and live with me and to learn about this world.”

Mistress Anastasia ran her fingers through my hair. Chills went down my spine.

“Lovely. Nicole was blond as well, but you knew that.”

She then opened my mouth with her hands to look at my teeth and my tongue.

“No piercings. I like that.”

She then put her hands on the undersides of my breasts and pushed up to feel their weight.

“I’d guess 34D, and natural. Is that right Laurine?”

“That’s correct Mistress.”

Talking out loud to no one in particular Mistress Anastasia noted, “Nicole was 34D.”

She wet her right index finger. She then put her right hand between my legs and stuck her index finger into my ass. I did everything in my power not to flinch. She then traced her finger across my pussy and clit. I couldn’t suppress the shudder.

“You haven’t trained her anally yet, have you?”

“No Mistress.”

“And the whore is wet. She enjoys being humiliated, doesn’t she Laurine?”

“She does Mistress Anastasia.”

“Does the whore enjoy pain?”

“Yes. She has her most powerful orgasms after she’s been whipped or spanked.”

“Well I’ll be the judge of that.”

I already felt the humiliation of this most impersonal inspection and now this ominous comment. My bright sunny Parisian morning got very dark very quickly.

She then moved over to Sasha.

“So Laurine, are you now raiding grammar schools for your slaves?”

“No Mistress. Sasha is 25. She was formerly a staff accountant that worked on Justine’s team. I also met her at Club Mirabeau. She is submissive both to Justine and to me.”

Mistress Anastasia stood in front of Sasha, cradled Sasha’s chin in the palm of her hand, and looked into her eyes. “She’s a lovely girl. However as tough as I am, I’m not a cradle robber. I’m not predisposed to consider her, but I guess we’ll find out if she’s really a woman or if she’s just pretending to be one.”

Turning to Mistress Laurine Mistress Anastasia spoke dismissively and said, “It was a long trip here from St. Tropez. I took an overnight train. I need a bath. Have these whores draw me a bath and tend to me. Get your things out of my room.”

“Yes Mistress.”

Mistress Anastasia went up the stairs to Mistress Laurine’s former bedroom. I have to admit that Mistress Anastasia cut a good figure walking up the stairs in her red designer suit that was a perfect match for her long wavy red hair. I also admired her long legs accented and enhanced by her 4 inch stiletto heels. Mistress Laurine signaled for Sasha and me to follow her. She went up the stairs as well. I was finally able to rub my sore left hand.

Chapter Eight

We entered the bedroom. Mistress Laurine addressed both of us with Mistress Anastasia looking on. “Obey Mistress Anastasia as you would obey me.” She then turned away to start packing her clothes to move out of the room.

Sasha and I said in unison. “Yes Mistress Laurine.”

Mistress Anastasia went into the master bathroom. She signaled for Sasha and me to enter.

“Justine, undress me.”

I approached Mistress Anastasia and started with her red tweed jacket. I helped her off with it and gave it to Sasha. Sasha went into the other room to hang it up. As I was removing her jacket she shook her head so her hair would clear the jacket. I had the resist the temptation of burying my face in her luscious mane of wavy red hair. Then with my fingers trembling I unbuttoned her silk blouse. The fabric was exquisite. I slipped it off her shoulders. Sasha returned and I handed the blouse to her. Mistress Anastasia was wearing a white lace demi-cup bra. Her breasts were magnificent. Her creamy white breasts peeked out over the top of the bra and on closer inspection I could see a hint of the dark areola around her nipples. I was dying to see her breasts.

The bra hooked in the front. My fingers trembled even more as I reached between her breasts to unhook her bra.

“Don’t be nervous kitten. I don’t bite when I’m not mad.”

That assurance didn’t help. I couldn’t get the hooks out of the eyes.

Mistress Anastasia took my hands and clutched them in hers. She looked me in the eyes. The look in her eyes had softened. I was staring into two pools of liquid emeralds. “Mistress Laurine has put you in my care. You’re my responsibility now. If you obey me I’ll make sure no harm comes to you. Now unhook my bra kitten and look at your Mistress’s breasts. You’ll like what you see.”

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