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From: Model-Bridgette@webtv.net (Bridgette)
Subject: I Was a Model Slave (4/?),(m/f,f/f,tor,scat,etc)
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by Model Bridgette
[Just a quick note...I wanted to thank everybody for their emails.
Everybody here has mostly been really nice and supportive. I promise to
write back to you soon. It's not easy thinking back on some of those
days in Paris, and I haven't even begun to write down what happened to
me in Vegas, but I will get to everything.I find that this is pretty
good therapy after all. Anyway, thanks.]
Part Four
After I forgot to wake up and massage Yvette, she was fuming. She was
consulting with James online in the chatroom and I was just starting to
shake. Yvette ordered me to get down on my knees and put my hands behind
my back. I did what she said, and as I placed my hands behind me, my
silk teddy started to open up a bit in the front.
Yvette told me she was going to have to punish me for my forgetfulness.
I pleaded with her to give me a second chance, but she said she had
already talked this over with James and punishment is what he wanted
too.
I kept my head bowed down and stared at the floor. Yvette came over to
me and removed my teddy, tossing it against the wall. She went to her
room and came back with a pair of handcuffs; I guessed she used them for
one of her sets at the nightclub. She locked them on my wrists and sort
of dragged me to the center of the living room, my knees roughly
scraping against the hardwood.
Yvette removed her lingerie and stood right in front of me. She ordered
me to stoop down and kiss and lick her feet. I bent down as best I could
with my hands bound behind me and kissed on her feet. It wasn't really
such a terrible task, to be honest. I actually had dreamed about doing
just this ever since I started rubbing her down with oils.
But I guess I wasn't licking to her satisfaction and she ripped a
handful of my hair and yanked my head up to look at her.
"You pussy-cunt, can't you get anything right?" Yvette demanded of me.
All I could do was beg for her to forgive me, let me try to do better.
Yvette continued to call me by this new nickname, "Pussy-Cunt," and she
dragged me over to the table with the laptop.
She ordered me to kneel down again, resting my ass on my heels, with my
hands behind my back while she consulted with James.
Yvette uncuffed my wrists and told me to sit in the chair. James
apparently wanted to communicate with me. Yvette excused herself and
went back to her room for something. I stared at the computer screen,
massaging my wrists, waiting for James to type something.
After a couple of minutes he came back and explained that I was a
natural submissive, and that Yvette was going to teach me how to be a
perfect submissive via his instructions. James was to be my master and
Yvette my mistress. And whenever he wasn't "around", I was to do
everything---anything---that Yvette instructed. From this point forward
in this flat, I was to call her Mistress Yvette.
I reluctantly typed in that I understood, but I added that I didn't want
Yvette to hurt me. He only responded by saying that I had no choice in
the matter, and that they would use pain whenever necessary, or whenever
they felt like it. That didn't leave much room for me.
Right about then, Yvette re-emerged with a whip, a cat 'o nine tails to
be exact. She playfully wrapped it's leather around my thin throat and
let the leather strands fall around my perky breasts.
Yvette ordered me to the floor on my hands and knees. She repositioned
the laptop so that my fingers could reach the keyboard on the floor. I
was instructed to keep my ass up high and type in what was happening to
me as it happened.
Yvette laid the first lash on me, and it was not too bad. It stung a
little. Master James of course wanted to know every little detail of my
situation, so I typed as fast as I could to him about my whipping.
Yvette hit me about ten times before she really tried to hurt me.
When that first "real" lash hit my ass, I was on fire with pain. It was
my first whipping ever, and Yvette was going to make sure that I
remembered it.
I tried to focus on typing, but when the whip hits you, it's hard not to
close your eyes and lose yourself for a second or two. Tears were also
starting to well up in my eyes. Yvette wasn't moving the whip around
either, she just concentrated on my ass over and over again.
Master James asked me to estimate the number of lashes I had received
about midway through, and I told him I had lost count. At this point, I
could no longer be silent, my little yelp was turning into a
full-throated scream. I don't remember how many blows I got, but I do
recall looking at the time on her computer, thinking to myself that this
has been going on for more than 15 minutes.
Finally, Yvette stopped, and when she did, I just sort of collapsed on
my side, forgetting about Master James and Yvette. I was still
conscious, but my mind was kind of foggy I was in so much shock and
pain.
I remember Yvette looking down at me. I tried to return the look through
teary eyes. She told me to rest for a while, because it was going to be
a long day.
It turned out to be a long day and night.
--
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