The Professional Touch
#3 of Evil Petting Zoo
A professional Dominatrix tries to learn how to have a real relationship with a client.
"Scream you filthy whore!" Freya's cries strained against the ball gag biting into her cheeks as the whip cut across her back. Her muscles tensed, rippling outward from the impact as her lungs tightened up with pain. She panted, nostrils flaring as the gag curtailed the air coming in through her muzzle. The yellow patterns dyed into her fur glowed like neon in the darkness of the dungeon. Freya felt like her body was going to quit on her. She was in ecstasy.
Brenda curled the whip up in her paw, the cat's tail swishing in front of her as muffled whimpers escaped her lips. Brenda eyed the clock to gauge her time before coming up behind Freya, brushing the coiled edge of the rope along the cat's back, welts and thin cuts screaming in her addled feline brain. The Dalmatian's uncharacteristically fluffy tail swayed in excitement at the sound of Freya's cries. "Surely you want some relief from the pain, my dear?"
The cat shuddered visibly with her eyes shut tight. But she shook her head. Brenda grinned and drew back her arm, slapping the edge of coiled leather bands against Freya's cheek. The cat winced, pulling at the wooden stock holding her neck and wrists in padded holes. The odd, curling patterns in her fur rippled as her fur stood up in response to the pain. Brenda took a slow walk around Freya, coming to her naked ass and pulling up her tail, hard and tight.
She then laid the bundled whip across Freya's naked ass, spanking the cat in sharp, hard smacks. Freya's reddening flesh showed even through the dark fur as her pert rump rippled from the strikes. "What a filthy whore to actually beg for it! Just an awful woman you are."
"Even this whip is too good for you. You're not worth dirtying my hands to punish." She could smell the cat's arousal, warm and thick in the air. She licked her lips, eager and excited by the smell but remorseful that she couldn't do anything about it. She was tempted to rub the whip's handle over her moistened slit but her professionalism would never allow that. It was a line that she could have pushed without violating the prostitution laws, probably, but Brenda didn't break the rules. Ever.
Brenda leaned in close to the cat's ear, her own long and fluffy ears brushing over Freya's shoulders, "Time's up, kitty cat." Without further ado she unhooked the ball gag and opened up the stocks, turning around to put the whip back onto its peg. The refitted walls of the cellar looked amazingly authentic, the dungeon appearing for all the world like a medieval torture chamber. When Brenda turned around she found the cat still had the unhooked gag hanging from her lips. Brenda smiled ruefully and padded back over, fluffy tail wagging as she took hold of the straps and tugging on them. The cat bit down, trying to keep the gag in, but eventually relented.
"There there, my little pussy cat..." Brenda stroked the cat's cheek. Freya's eyes darted fearfully to the palm and she winced when it touched her, but she soon responded affectionately, rubbing into Brenda's touch. She'd never seen a sub slip quite so deeply into subspace, or hold onto it like this afterward. Despite the game of their relationship the cat showed honest fear, like an animal incapable of understanding its predicament. "Everything's ok now."
Brenda gave the cat a hug and shook her head, glancing at the clock with worry. Her schedule was going to be ruined if she couldn't get Freya out of subspace soon.
"I don't know, Donovan... she's not like my other customers." Brenda demurely sipped at a cup of hot tea in the break room, a little dining room oddly clashing with rest of the dungeon. The owner had retrofitted an old European style mansion for the business, one of many that had been built by tycoons in the old days whose bank accounts didn't last as long as their building projects. These employee-only areas didn't share the motif of the working areas, though. They were pleasant and homey.
"If it feels different then maybe it is different, Miss Stern." Donovan referred to her like a teacher; Brenda let it slide for now. She only found it irritating because she knew he had meant it ironically. Donovan had his foot paws propped up on the table, relaxed and lazy in leather pants and a Dom harness. The wolf was a picture of irony, his laid back nature totally at odds with the outfit and, in fact, his job. "Can't let your job keep you from having relationships."
"What terrible advice." Tatiana walked past behind him, hir heels clicking at the ground while shi stirred hir coffee delicately. Shi had a gasmask pushed up over hir forehead, the style that covers the whole head, spikes and studs riveted into it. Brenda thought it made Tatiana look like some sort of alien monster. The Russian immigrant had been most of the way through a sex change when shi'd decided shi would prefer to stay halfway between male and female. Luckily for hir, shi'd found a perfect business for a mean-spirited lizard with breasts and a penis. The owner had been only too happy to get his hands on hir.
"One must not mix business and pleasure, little sister. Is unprofessional, da?" Tatiana's blue tongue flipped out to test hir coffee. Shi wasn't really Brenda's sister at all, of course. The skink's scales were a dead give-away that they shared no blood. Hir thick tail bumped the counter with a thud as shi leaned back; a red latex dress of vaguely military style clung to hir scales, an attached collar encircling hir neck, with a matching pair of arm length gloves and thigh-high, toeless boots. "Besides, you'd lose a customer."
Brenda sighed and shook her head. "That is, frankly, the least of it. I like her, of course, but I also feel that she needs something from me. There's something more going on in her head than with my regular customers." Brenda crossed her arms and legs, her brow furling as she thought. Her outfit was more traditional Domme than Tatiana's though it was also red; a small bustier over the black, heart shaped patch of fur covering her breasts and much of her stomach with red arm length gloves and long leggings of the same hue, though the half cape over her shoulders lent the outfit some personal flair.
Brenda stared sullenly at her cup for a few moments, "You wouldn't believe how long it took her to get out of subspace this morning. She's a great sub, very responsive... but I don't know what makes someone go that deep."
"Brenda, you aren't a therapist. Don't get into things you can't handle." Donovan sat up, leaning forward with concern, "It'll only cause you trouble if you worry about it."
Tatiana nodded her head; it was unusual for the two of them to agree on anything. "You may still loose customer this way, Brenda, but could be much worse. Listen to Donovan."
"She really is a great sub and I'd hate to lose her... but I seem to be concerned about her." She pushed her cooling cup of tea away; she was annoyed at everything, even the drink. "I'm not used to caring about people."
"If you can't help it you should stop seeing her at all. Fun is one thing but you don't want to try and become some strange girl's keeper." Donovan glanced at the clock and sighed, standing up and stretching. "Break's over. I have to go to stomp on some guy's dick."
Freya sat across from Brenda, a smart business suit tight around her shapely body and arms clasped on her lap. She was dressed much more formally than before which Brenda suspected had some deeper meaning. Was she trying to impress Brenda? Had her visits to a Domme become important enough that they were worth dressing up for? Or, perhaps, did formality mean she felt uncomfortable around Brenda? After all, a Domme can be very intimidating.
"I'd like to switch to bi-weekly meetings, Miss, Stern." Freya stated it casually but there was an efficiency to the request that sounded measured and practiced. Brenda wondered, for a moment, if Freya suspected a problem. After making the request Freya sat back in the chair, staring levelly at Brenda. Waiting.
Brenda twirled a pen in her fingers, a nervous habit that didn't fit with her martinet persona. She sighed in annoyance at herself and dropped the pen. "Are you certain this is wise? I fear you are too... dependent on this. Too dependent on me." Brenda tried to keep the sting from her words. She shouldn't. Not just because a Domme should always go for the sting, either, but because she should be trying to chase this cat off rather than comfort her. "I get the impression that you're trying to work through something, Freya, and a Domme... isn't a replacement for therapy."
Freya's eyes hardened and Brenda froze. For a moment she felt like a sub under a Domme's gaze. There was ferocity in there that made Brenda immediately feel she had said the absolute wrong thing.
"I have been to therapists... and they've been useless. They can't make me stop needing this and I don't want to stop needing this. We both know there's nothing wrong with bondage and S&M so why shy away from it?" She leaned forward, anger bubbling forth. "This helps in a way they never could."
Brenda looked around the office to escape Freya's gaze. The room had been a front sitting room in the old mansion before its conversion to a dungeon and was little changed. It now served as a professional meeting place to discuss the business side of transactions before a customer would be led into a private room or, for those with darker tastes, the true dungeon beneath. "It's... a lot of responsibility to put on me. I don't know you that well, cat. Wouldn't you be more comfortable with... someone you weren't paying?" The office was casual, unlike the rest of the mansion, more like a therapist's office than a business place. The irony was sour in Brenda's mouth; she felt like a liar.
"I've tried... I've tried so many times. But Doms... are mostly children at heart. So many of them are playing with a child's notion of power. What they're giving me only helps by accident." Brenda looked down at the softening tone but Freya's eyes locked onto her's instantly. They were intense and predatory. Brenda began to wonder if Freya was manipulating her. "I don't feel that way about you. It feels different with you."
Brenda sighed. Even if she was being manipulated she didn't care. The raw need in Freya's gaze was impossible to resist. "If I am going to do this for you... I need to understand. I need to know that this is something I can help you with. Understand? I need to know why you need this." Freya smiled brightly. It was like a mask had been shattered.
Brenda slipped a red ball gag into Freya's muzzle, fastening it to her lips like the final punctuation on the feline's story. Her heart had gone out to the cat's sorrow. Her life seemed to follow an oddly familiar pattern to Brenda's own.
Brenda pushed Freya down to her knees, the ball gag the only toy used for now. The cat looked up at her with dawning worry, as if this weren't some controlled game. The cat had been raised by a small business owner; a self-made man. She'd been raised to believe that hard work was all one needed to succeed. Even when other, larger chains came to challenge his business the community relied on him and kept shopping at his store. His was a rousing success story. He was even able to pay his daughter's way through college with no loans.
Brenda pressed her foot down onto Freya's back. The cat groaned in protest against her gag as Brenda forced her to lean forward, muzzle pressed all the way to the dungeon's stone floor. She reached down and looped a length of rope around her arms, beginning a complicated series of knots and hitches to bind her arms at the wrists. Brenda continued with the long length of rope, unwinding it from around her own arm as she followed up at Freya's elbows.
"Little pussy cat's all caught up in her yarn..."
Freya went into business law for college and after many years of hard work she graduated with high marks. She entered a law firm as a low level lawyer, doing discovery work for the firm's corporate clients. Freya had thought she'd be able to help men and women of conviction like her father. She thought the law, and an able lawyer, could keep the sanctity of hard work and enterprise alive.
Brenda pulled Freya up by her hair, the cat whining into the gag. Brenda had stripped her naked right away, needing clothing out of the way of the ropes as she built the harness, looping the chords over Freya's shoulders and crossing her shoulder blades with an X. She made a ring around Freya's neck and knotted the chord at precise intervals down her front, dropping the rope between the cat's legs and pulling it up behind her, the woven threads rubbing into her slit and ass crack. Freya groaned and squirmed.
Within Freya's first year at the law firm her father died. The family was well taken care of, though. Her and her mother both had plenty of money from his life insurance plan and she was making good money. His funeral was well attended. Freya was sad, of course, but she was also proud. Her father had lived a successful life.
Brenda pulled the ends of the rope up along Freya's back and looped them through the back of the loose ring around the cat's neck. These she pulled around the sides and overtop of Freya's bosom, pulling the ropes through another loop made by the knotted intervals she'd left in the rope before. She repeated the process, pulling the ropes over the tops of the feline's breasts and through the chord against her back, then under the bosom in the front. The ropes squeezed tightly around her breasts, squeezing them into tight and tortured mounds. The ropes were finally tied off in the front, completing a tight, web-like rope harness binding the cat and rubbing on all of her sensitive areas.
"You look just delectable all trussed up, slut. I might not want to untie you at all...."
Freya had been working on a case but, in discovery, she didn't know that much about it. She was given assignments and sent to look through public records, obscure tomes of law and old paperwork. She gathered what she found of use, tagged it, wrote summaries... and sent it off to the real lawyers. When she heard that the case was a rousing success and her work had been instrumental she was proud. She was helping her firm aid a business in some way. She didn't learn the details until the celebration had passed.
Brenda lifted Freya to her feet manually, the harness making it all but impossible for the cat to manage on her own. She placed a hand firmly on the cat's back and guided her forward, leading her to a wooden bench. It was a simple prop for a dungeon like this. No rack or stock, let alone the complicated devices with gears and pullies. Merely a bench over which she bent the cat.
Freya had found ways to exploit the law, twisting through loopholes, to let a large corporation destroy a small business. The business had been doing well. It had the support of the community. The large corporation couldn't seem to draw this local enterprise's customers away. So they schemed and searched until they found some technicality and just the right legal exploits to pull the business right out from under the owner. She'd helped these wealthy men take a self-made entrepreneur who'd done everything right and destroy his dream. All of her pride turned to ash.
Brenda pulled a wooden paddle with a paw print cut into its end from the wall, testing its weight and heft as she walked back to Freya, claws clicking along the stone floor. She could see the cat tense as the sound of her steps came closer. She brushed the flat plank along Freya's ass gently before she drew her arm back. She struck hard. The gag could barely muffle the cry.
"Don't you dare fight it, bitch. You know you deserve this!"
Freya couldn't do her job anymore. Guilt and fear of what she might do next crippled her. She couldn't focus and when she could... Freya didn't want to. Soon afterward Freya resigned her position. This had been a year ago.
Brenda didn't let up. She struck again just as hard, Freya's ass rolling with the impact as the unmolested shape of a paw was left in her fur, waves of impact flowing through her soft flesh. Freya cried and squirmed, trying to escape uselessly.
Freya had been with several Doms and Dommes since then. Before that even she had started on a quest of self-destruction when a one-night stand had introduced her to bondage. To Freya's surprise it actually made her feel better. For days the guilt melted away. For days she felt that her just punishment had been delivered. For days the lingering calm of subspace, a mental state she'd never imagined could be reached without drugs and liquor, eased her sorrow. But it didn't last.
Freya twisted hard, squirming sideways on the bench. She almost rolled off. Brenda knew this was instinct, though, that drove the cat to escape. The psychology behind subbing was complicated and couldn't be expressed as wants and desires. It was needs and compulsions. Freya may be trying to escape but she wanted to be stopped. No, that wasn't quite right; she needed to be. Needed to be punished.
"After everything you've done you really think I would let you get away?"
Freya was desperate to find a Master. As soon as she'd find any Dominant she would offer herself to them. They would abuse her as they wished but soon they'd fall short of her needs or grow bored and they would part ways. There was something missing that deadened their punishments. Before long she simply abhorred these men and women that she so readily had thrown herself at the feet of. No punishment or sex eased the deeper ache or made the relief stick.
Brenda put her foot on Freya's back again, holding her down and swinging the paddle in a high arc. It struck hard, the bench sliding slightly with the impact. Freya collapsed, energy sapped and will destroyed by the unrelenting punishment. Brenda set the paddle down, the tool now useless with Freya's surrender. She could see it written in every twitching, tortured muscle of the feline; she had been absolved of her sins.
Freya had first come to the dungeon reluctantly. Paying for domination seemed unnecessary and even fake, like the false love of a prostitute. For ages she put off finding a professional Master. Her saved money was running out and her guilt was growing, though, and she knew something had to change. It was only luck that Brenda was the Domme Freya spoke to when she finally came into the dungeon.
Brenda leaned down over Freya's back. The cat flinched when the Dalmatian's body touched her raw ass but Brenda was insistent, arms wrapping tight around Freya's shoulders. She gave one pointed ear a bite, then a sharp tug, and whispered in her ear.
"I love you."
Freya collapsed in a way Brenda hadn't realized was possible. It was like even spent and panting there was still some reserve in the cat, resisting surrender until this confession. Freya was as free of tension as a person could possibly be.
Brenda lifted the seemingly unconscious feline in her arms and looked down at her half unconscious form. Her desire for the cat was unbearable and she knew a separation was needed. Brenda took her to a small cage hanging from the ceiling, as much to keep herself from molesting Freya as to prolong the torture.
She set her sub into the hanging contraption and locked the door before she took a seat, watching the slow process of rousing from subspace. It seemed to take ages though Brenda hardly minded watching Freya's fugue. As the feline became aware of her surroundings and saw the cage around her she whimpered. Brenda smiled at the distress in the feline's voice but something seemed wrong, like Freya didn't belong in this box.
As Brenda pondered this she slowly realized what she'd said to Freya as they lay on the floor and cursed herself.
Freya was back in the same chair, up in the office, just like when she'd come in that day. Her hair was disheveled and there was a glow about her that would suggest they'd actually made love, though nothing of the sort had technically occurred. Bondage was very much a different thing.
"I can't do this again." Brenda couldn't bring herself to look at Freya when she said it. Even so, she could feel the oppression bear down on the cat.
"But... why? I... I heard you say it. Didn't I hear you say it?" Freya seemed unsure now, like it may have been a hallucination.
Brenda sighed and brought her eyes onto the cat, the yellow patterns in her fur somehow looking dull in her dejection. "I am a professional. It is precisely because I said that to you that there is a problem. I can't... be like this with a customer."
Freya shook her head, anger bubbling up from somewhere deep inside. "No... no no no!" The growing rage shook out through her like an earthquake, "You can't do this! I need this!"
Brenda brought her first down on the table with a crash. It was time she started acting like a real Domme. "Exactly! You need this! Do you know how unhealthy that is?" Brenda stood up, her voice rising as much at her own weakness as the cat's. "This doesn't fix you! It's a temporary patch! Relying on a crutch, it's... it's as bad as developing feelings for someone who pays you to beat them!"
Brenda could almost see Freya's heart break. The bottom dropped out of the poor cat. After a moment of harsh silence she just started crying. Even now, though, she surprised Brenda. She snatched a business card from the desk and scribbled on it frantically before getting up and running out the door. Brenda walked around to the card to find an address written on it.
"Did you mean it?" Desiderio was cracking his back, long monkey arms behind him and clasped tightly just the way Freya's had been bound.
"I suppose so. I didn't plan to say it, after all. Why else would I say it?" Brenda was feeling numb but beneath it there was a hurt she was afraid to touch. She clung to bitterness, against herself more than anyone, to hide from that pain. "It's not like the moment was just so romantic, after all."
"If you meant it then why not ask her out? Like Sir Donovan told you before; you can't let this job keep you from having relationships." Desi lifted his arms over his head and twisted his spine, one way and then the other. His squirming reminded her of Freya's attempt to escape Brenda's paddling. Desi was one of the dungeon's professional subs, a trio who lived in the private areas and worked for the dominant customers who needed a playmate. They also performed the home's chores to pay for their keep.
Idly, Brenda wondered what he was doing when he'd overheard the conversation. Was he listening at the door?
Brenda bit back bitter words. Hadn't Donovan also said she couldn't play therapist? "I'm a professional, Desi. Developing feelings for a customer isn't some fairy tale romance. If we can't suppress feelings of affection for our customers we can't possibly do our jobs."
Desi suddenly dropped his arms and gave her a fixed, measuring look. "You really don't get it, huh? Brenda... where in the hell else are you going to meet someone with the same interests as you? All the other bondage dungeons you go to when not at work?"
"It's too late, Desi. I already turned her out. This point is moot." Brenda glared at him, that ache inside her growing as she hinted at her own regret.
"Then go back. Relationships have problems. That's normal." Desi started to clear dishes from the break table. "It's not like you just high five and it's rainbows forever!"
He shook his head, picking up a sponge and getting to work on the coffee and tea cups in the sink. "If you won't date a customer you're never going to find anyone you can date. Think about it."
Brenda couldn't deny the logic behind those words any more than her own fears. She looked down at her watch, "I... will think about it. But I need to go watch over the girls. And Desi... speak to me like that ever again and I'll beat you until you can't work a week."
The subs, due to the vulnerability their job placed them in, often requested the observation of a Dom or Domme during their sessions. This could especially be important if a customer got too turned on and tried to turn bondage into prostitution. Of course, things would sometimes be arranged under the table beforehand and, since the rooms were technically rented by the employees for use, the house wouldn't be liable if they were caught. All the same, Brenda didn't really approve of the under-the-table sex; she never broke the rules and if she chaperoned a play date no one else was going to break the rules either. You could do a lot without breaking that rule but there was a definite, clear line that had to be enforced.
Brenda entered the room ahead of the two subs: a lop-eared rabbit with white fur and a Betty Page haircut and a shy fennec fox saving up for a sex change. Terminology was strictly enforced for the transsexual fox; penis or no, one was never to refer to her as a boy or even the androgynous terms Tatiana preferred. Even in dirty talk or humiliation this was forbidden for the girl's sake.
The customer entered after them, a middle aged skunk who tied them up immediately. His knots were quick and simple, twining the two girls to the bedposts. Such utilitarian knots seemed like a waste to Brenda but many casual Doms only saw the rope as a means to an ends rather than the art Brenda saw in knot work. Likely the subs could have gotten out of the knots, even, but making a customer feel inadequate was bad business.
The skunk pulled a braided whip from the wall, giving it a few practice cracks to test the heft and range; this time he impressed Brenda a bit; he obviously knew how to use a whip properly. He left the subs ungagged, relishing in the sound of their whimpering cries. Carefully measured strokes brought the taught leather chord stinging into the subs' flesh, inflicting welts and cuts and leaving them squirming and wincing.
The skunk Dom glanced over at Brenda often while he worked over the girls. She couldn't be sure if it was interest in her that drew his eyes or the fact that her presence kept him from going further with the subs. He had a strong, dominant will that challenged Brenda's authority implicitly. She was sure he either wanted to dominate her or defy her control of the subs.
Whipping seemed to be all he really felt the need for. Some Doms just had a very specific fetish they liked more than anything else. He put the whip up and left wordlessly, no thanks or praise to anyone. Brenda knew it was his final way of showing her that he had the real power. He hadn't even untied the abused slaves, leaving Brenda to do it herself.
Brenda had seen more than her fair share of these Dom fights as she chaperoned the subs and she always let them leave feeling like they were in control. This time she had even hoped this would happen, leaving her with the subs so she could take advantage of a captive audience to talk. "Do you girls think it's ok for a professional Domme to have feelings for a customer?"
Judy, the rabbit, perked up her floppy ears and looked at Brenda in surprise, "Not that asshole skunk?"
Brenda gave a sarcastic laugh and smack Judy's naked ass, the bunny squirming. Her ass was already plenty tender and the slap drew a sharp cry. "No, one of the subs who sees me."
"What, we aren't good enough for you?" Judy made a pouty face and Brenda threatened another smack. "Really, though, I don't know... I can't really help. I'm not exactly the romantic type, Mistress. I mean... I guess I don't really want to think my masters care about me, honestly. It makes them seem less dominant."
Brenda sighed and shook her head. For as fun loving as Judy came off the girl was a bundle or issues and neurosis.
"If I may..." Brenda turned to Rachel, the fennec's shy voice barely above a whisper. She had an erection that Brenda knew embarrassed the poor girl mightily. As much as Rachel would like for it to leave her alone the damned thing wouldn't stop working. "This can't be everything in your life." A reproachful look from Judy stopped Rachel. "Well, for people who aren't crazy like Judy, this can't be everything in your life. This is a job, Mistress. Your feelings... they have to come first."
"But... it's unprofessional. It's a bad habit, isn't it, dating amongst your customers?" Brenda finished untying Judy, regretfully she had to admit, who immediately got to cleaning up the room dutifully.
Rachel lifted her head with notable effort, still trussed up as she was, "You are more important than your job, Mistress. Don't let it get in the way of what you want. Jobs are just how we pay the bills so we can do the things we love."
Brenda mulled over the fennec's words thoughtfully while Judy chimed back in. "But we like doing this! We're getting our cake and eating it, too!" Brenda reached out and grabbed Judy's arm, pulling it taught and sinking her teeth into it. Judy tried to tug away, hissing out her breath and closing her eyes. Brenda didn't release the arm until the lop fell to her knees, finally quiet.
Rachel looked down at her erection sadly, "I'm working here so I can finally be rid of that thing. I know that if I kept it I could make more money, though. Pre-op transsexuals are very popular sex workers, after all, and pretty rare. But... the job isn't as important as my happiness."
Brenda went to Rachel and gave her a kiss on the forehead before untying her. "Thank you, Rachel. You've been a big help." Then she smacked Rachel on her equally sore ass, "Now get this place clean, damn it! I can't go get my sub back until you're done."
Brenda parked her car in front of Freya's building and looked over the address scribbled on the card. The shaking hand and tears made the address a little difficult to read but she was fairly sure this was the right place. She'd been in a rush, merely pulling a long coat on over her Domme garb and heading out the door. She was excited at the chance to see Freya again. Still, fear made uncertainty attractive; she briefly considered giving up and going home before even trying.
Brenda gave herself a light slap on the cheek. "I'm being stupid." She slipped the address away, exited the car and headed for the apartment. She tried to fight down her nervousness by planning for different possibilities. What would she say if it was the wrong place? What would she say if Freya was angry? What would she say if Freya had changed her mind? She knocked on the door, hoping that Freya was at least home. Freya not even being there would be the most awkward possibility.
Brenda heard some sounds of surprise inside and, after a few long moments, Freya asked who was there. To Brenda's answer the door opened. She was so happy to see Freya that she barged in through the door to hug her. It wasn't until she had let go of the confused cat that she realized she'd forgotten all about her planned responses. She also only then noticed that Freya was wearing a collar.
Brenda looked around suddenly, quickly spotting the hulking dragon standing in the hallway. He was wearing a Dom harness like Donovan's, smirking at her condescendingly as he entered the living room. "You must be the bitch that threw her away."
Brenda looked between Freya and the man quickly, gauging the relationship of power. Freya was silent and deferential. "And just who do you think you are?"
"I'm her Master." He strutted into the center of the living room, gray scales glistening in the low light. "She left but I found her again. Damn cats are always running away." He laughed at his own lame joke. He motioned casually to Freya but she stayed where she stood.
"You weren't capable of giving her what she needed. You're just a child playing with a child's notions of power." Brenda drew on Freya's own words, searching for a truth that might sting. She looked back at Freya and noted that she wasn't looking back at Brenda. She was frozen in the spot, indecisive.
"She knelt down for me when I showed up. And she told me about you sending her away." He licked his lips lewdly, "you're never going to know just how much you're missing out on, now."
Brenda saw through his bravado easily. This was a battle of wills the moment either of them realized the other was a Master, too. She unbuttoned her coat, revealing her Domme outfit. His surprise betrayed his cool demeanor. "She left me her address. I may have sent her away but she never stopped wanting to be mine." She lifted her chin haughtily. "And now I'm back to claim what's mine."
He just laughed again, "She was upset. I took care of that." He gave her another gesture, strong and demanding. "Get over her, slut." Freya started, giving a twitch of movement before she caught herself. The man had a strong presence and she was used to obeying him.
"If you could take care of her needs, she wouldn't have left you in the first place." Brenda held out a hand to Freya and the cat looked at it, almost uncomprehending. It worried Brenda; she was still undecided. Brenda determined to go for a low blow. "Being left by a sub... that's pathetic."
The dragon looked at Brenda with forced contempt, trying to make her feel belittled. Simple tricks for a Dom. "How well do you really know this girl? She loves to be mistreated. She runs away just hoping her Master will come drag her back home." Brenda looked at Freya again and couldn't be sure this wasn't true. It certainly seemed to fit her.
Brenda took a step toward the towering dragon. He was easily a foot taller than her, maybe more. He would be imposing if she weren't used to dominating men larger than herself already. "How well do you really know her? She liked me enough to pay for it."
It amused Brenda that this argument, in this context, actually worked. In any other it would sound like the misplaced pride of a prostitute. This was different, though. "I know everything about this slut, you fucking tramp!" His anger pleased Brenda. She was winning and he knew it. "You've barely known her a month!"
"I know she needs more than punishments and abuse." Brenda stepped right up to him, hands on her hips and fluffy tail wagging, "she needs love and affection, too." She looked back over her shoulder at Freya. "I love you, Freya. I won't let anything get in the way of that. Not even my job."
The dragon's laugh was triumphant, "Love? You're going to get all sappy with her?" He stretched an arm out toward her, "this girl is a sub, tart! Love isn't what she wants! She wants a big, strong man to take control of her!"
Brenda looked over her shoulder and saw Freya staring back at her. She had the girl's attention now. "Like I said; a child with a child's notions of power." She turned to walk away.
"Don't you fucking talk to me like that!" Brenda heard it in his voice. He'd been pushed too far and, like a child, he was going to lash out. She was already bracing for the impact.
Just as she turned far enough to see him preparing to strike her, a lamp smashed into his head. He staggered back, confused and off kilter. Before Brenda knew what was happening he was tumbling over with Freya on him, slashing at him with her claws. Brenda grabbed the feline and pulled her back, yellow markings leaving frenzied trails as she writhed and screamed down at the man.
Dealing with the police had been fun. There had been no real question of who was in the wrong but Freya's collar and Brenda's whole outfit drew more than a few looks and comments. All in all the officers seemed to enjoy having a memorable story for the night, though. The Dom, once he was back to his senses, made noises about suing them. Of course, once he tried to push an officer away from him everything else was moot. Never try to resist a cop if you want a leg to stand on, literally or figuratively.
Alone in the apartment finally Brenda scrounged around in the kitchen to make some tea for the two of them. Nerves were frayed and adrenaline was pumping. They needed something to calm down with. When she handed Freya the steaming cup the girl tried to explain about the Dom.
"Quiet." Brenda stated it firmly. Her tone left no room for argument. Freya stopped mid-sentence and watched Brenda take a long sip of tea in pronounced silence. "You don't need to explain. I don't even want to know who he was."
"But..." Freya silenced again as Brenda shook her head, long ears flapping.
"You spilled your life story to me, pussy cat. I owe you the same." She took another long sip.
"I studied to be a teacher." She let the phrase hang in the air a moment. Freya didn't understand. Brenda knew Freya wouldn't but she wanted this statement to sink in.
"Being a teacher is all I've ever understood. I grew up in a boarding school. I knew my teachers better than I knew my own parents, even. I also attended finishing school. Then I went straight on to college. I was never really out of school. It gave a sense of structure that I craved, you see. Everyone was in their proper place at a school. Power was hierarchical. Grades gave even the students a proper ranking and determined how much one mattered. Teachers stood over the students and some teachers stood over others, then a principal stood over them, too... and so on and so forth." She motioned to Freya's tea when she saw the cat wasn't drinking. Freya supplicated.
"When it came time for student teaching, though, I learned something; two things, really. First, I learned that many people who want to become teachers just want to hold power over people they see as weaker. Schools know to watch out for these people. Strict, Victorian schoolmarms aren't so good for the students, it ends up. If you're like this, well, the teacher you do your student teaching under will see it and black list you, so to speak. Give you a bad reference. Getting a job becomes very hard." She stirred her tea in lazy irritation, crossing her legs and leaning back. Remembering how hard those times had been still made her upset.
"I also learned that's why I wanted to be a teacher." Freya made to protest, defending Brenda from her own insecurities, but it took only a tiny gesture to stop her. "I needed the structure of school. I didn't know any other way to understand people. And I wanted to move up that hierarchy. I tried similar things; tutoring, governess work, things like that... but my domineering personality always became an issue." She breathed deep, keeping her sadness at her own failure at bay. Strict composure was important to her.
"The last person I worked as a governess for... my strictness became a very big issue. The father shouted at me that I should be a dominatrix." She betrayed a tiny smile, the story turning funny to her. "At the time I was just desperate and had never thought about it. I figured I might as well try being one. I started trying to figure out how the business works. It wasn't long before I ran into my current boss just trying to get information. Instead he took me on and trained me. He gave me a job."
"Do you enjoy it?" Freya seemed to see Brenda in a new light. She was suddenly concerned that she may have misused Brenda.
Brenda nodded. "Oh yes. I found what I should have been doing all along." She set her empty cup down. "But I still feel like a teacher. I feel like I'm instructing my customers on how to do bondage. They're like my students." She looked into Freya's eyes with an intense look.
"I saw you as a student. That was the box I put you in. At the same time, though, I had feelings for you. Having a relationship with a student seems wrong to me, though. I...had to find another box to put you in. And so I have an offer. I want you to be a student teacher."
"I don't understand..." Freya's brow furrowed with thought.
"I want you to work with me at the dungeon. I don't want you to be a just a customer anymore. I want you to be a coworker." Brenda slipped a collar from her pocket.
"But... I want to be yours." Freya eyed the collar hungrily.
"You will be. That's the student part of student teacher. You'll come live with me and be my live in slave. Then you'll come to work with me and be a professional there." She held out the collar.
Freya nodded slowly. Brenda removed the other Dom's collar and dropped it in the trash. Then she slipped her own collar around Freya's throat and secured it with a tiny lock. "This is for keeps. No more games. I own you."
Freya leaned into her and purred, "Yes, Governess."
"There's something else I should tell you, too." Brenda felt a flush rising in her cheeks, showing pink through her cheek fur. Embarrassment was unusual for her. "I'm a virgin."
Freya blinked in disbelief, pulling back from Brenda with a silent start.
"It's true. I've known I'm not interested in men since I was a teenager and lesbians are hard to find." She took another sip of tea, closing her eyes and fighting down her embarrassment. "On top of that, I was studious. I put all of my time into my studies and had very few friends. I never put any time into relationships."
"But... surely, with customers..." Freya thought over her words carefully, avoiding making any negative implications, "it's part of the job isn't it?"
"I'm not a prostitute. If I were, working in a dungeon would make me awfully easy to catch." She set down her cup and crossed her hands over her lap, "I follow the rules. Always."
"Surely you've done something, though?" Freya was still incredulous.
"Some, yes. Nothing ever got serious enough to go anywhere... significant, though." Brenda sat back in her chair, knees set wide apart and waited.
"Freya... I'm telling you to get over here and change that." The cat jumped and blushed brightly, getting down on her knees and crawling to Brenda on all fours. When she came within range, Brenda took a handful of her hair, growling down at the cat.
Freya licked over the sheer thong covering Brenda's crotch, a hot moan escaping the Domme's lips before she could get ahold of herself. Freya slipped her fingers into the strings of Brenda's thong and tugged them down her spotty legs, licking up the insides of her Mistress' thighs. She licked over the puffy pink slit between Brenda's thighs, purring warmly, the sound reverberating through Brenda's flesh, and slid her tongue through the ruddy lips. Brenda moaned again, this time unable to put pause to the sound, fingers digging into Freya's scalp. Freya rubbed her muzzle in hard, her rough tongue tingling over the sensitive flesh and digging down at her tender clitoris.
Brenda pulled Freya's head up by her hair, growling at the cat with a predatory gleam in her eyes. She shoved the cat down onto the ground and pounced on top of her, digging her teeth into the feline's throat. Her hands groped at Freya's breasts through her thin nightshirt, the cat yowling as her nipples were pulled savagely. Brenda dragged her claws down the cat's stomach slowly and, when she reached Freya's pajama pants, tugged them down her legs to the knees.
Brenda turned around over top of Freya, pushing her wet and fragrant pussy down into the feline's nose. She pressed her own nose down into Freya's crotch, the hot and heady smell she'd so longed for in their past sessions lacing the air, and lapped her tongue over Freya's hot folds. The unfamiliar flavor of another woman burst over Brenda's tongue and she pushed her nose in savagely, lapping hungrily at Freya's slit. The cat cried out, the sound muffled in Brenda's fluffy sex, trickles of hot fluid trailing down her chin.
Brenda's tail wagged excitedly over Freya's head, the long fur brushing Freya's hair around on the floor. Her tongue strained to dip deeply into Freya's sex, the ring of muscle clenching down against her protrusion. Brenda's fingers joined in, arms curling around Freya's legs, still bound at the knees by her own pajamas. She spread Freya's slit open and dug her fingers inward, rubbing at her puffy clitoris in return to Freya's lapping back at hers.
Brenda shuddered and gasped silently into Freya's slit, her muscles clenching all over her body as she came, the rare sensation washing over her like a violent flood. She squeezed Freya's thighs tightly, bruising the poor cat's legs in her grip, and ground her crotch hard into Freya's nose. The feline reciprocated, pain mixing with a loss of air as her muzzle was buried in her Mistress' folds. Brenda lapped at the thick flavor while her sub squealed beneath her, Freya's fingers digging into her sides and legs squeezing around her head.
Brenda collapsed onto the ground next to Freya, panting and silent for several minutes while she stared at the ceiling, almost disbelieving the experience.
"Well... I can certainly see what all the fuss is about." Brenda pushed herself up to a sitting position with some effort. Freya crawled to her lap, pulling herself into it with a whimper. She seemed to have slipped a little into subspace from even that but also seemed to be rising up from those depths quickly.
Brenda put her arms around Freya and held her possessively, half naked and panting on the floor. "I forgot to tell you; I even have a new box to put you in."
"I... don't understand." Freya snuggled into the warm and tight grip of Brenda's arms. She was hazy but lucid.
"I've gotten a new cage just for you."
"So that was the boss?" Freya asked as they left the office. They'd gone to see the enigmatic "Dungeon Master" and filled out the necessary paperwork. He had no objections to letting her work with Brenda, surprisingly. He seemed to trust Brenda's judgement.
"Obviously. He's a big name in the adult industries." Brenda tugged on Freya's leash, pulling her into the break room. Donovan and Tatiana were already there, drinking coffee to prepare for the day's work.
"So, you decided to keep her after all?" Donovan smiled to Freya and waved. "Good for you."
"Foolish." Tatiana took a long drink. "How do you know this is real? You fake relationships every day, Brenda."
"I cut my previous Dom up for her." Freya said it quickly, before Brenda could process the conversation at all.
Tatiana's brows raised. "Not bad...." She took a long drink. "I like this one. You should keep her."
"Freya dear..." The cat turned to face Brenda proudly. Brenda slapped her hard across the face. Freya stumbled briefly, rubbing her cheek. "Never speak out of turn."