Mistress Aura
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I give you my latest attempt at birthing a tale--finished at last. As always, I hope you find the parts of my head-world enjoyable.
My deepest love and gratitude to Redscript, who forced me to stretch outside of my literary comfort zone to write this for him and refused to let me give up, under pain of the most miserable discipline I've ever known. No, really.
And to CrystalLight, who held my hand and even cyber-smacked me around a bit while I bitched and whimpered my way through the writing process. Growing pains always hurt like hell! 
But I do love you both, wouldn't be what I am without you. 
And special thanks to Myriads, who lent me a bit of foundational knowledge during my floundering research on the actions you will find herein.
To those who take the time to read my work, I remain--
Faithfully yours,
Mistress Aura
_________________________________
"Get dressed," he said to her sternly.
Selena jumped guiltily at the sound of his voice, made even more ominous by his tone, and scrambled to her feet. 'Oh, God, no,' she thought in blind panic, 'how long was he watching me?' She'd had no idea he'd come home, had been so involved behind her closed eyes with her fantasies and languorous self-exploration, she'd not paid attention to the time and had never heard him enter the apartment. Now he stood in the bedroom doorway as though he was made of stone, his face telling her he'd seen more than enough of her illicit and currently forbidden activities to garner immediate discipline. No, not discipline. She knew better--this unfortunate incident would ramp up the discipline she'd already been enduring to an all-out punishment.
Eyes wide, she opened her mouth with a stammer, but he cut her off. "You will be quiet. Do as you're told immediately or you'll only make it worse," he advised with steel in his voice, his eyes underscoring his seriousness. In a final, frantic attempt to assuage his irritation with her, she dropped to her hands and knees and began to crawl forward, hoping to press her lips to his shoe in supplication. He stopped her movement by placing his foot on her lowered head. "Selena. Now."
Without further hesitation and with tears welling in her eyes, she rose and reached for her bathrobe but froze at his short, impatient exhalation. "Put on street clothes," he directed flatly. "And your collar. We're going out." She looked at him with wordless question, not daring to disobey yet further by speaking. The slight underlying mercilessness beneath his sudden smile made her shudder involuntarily as he added, "We're going shopping."
__________
The trip was silent, much to her growing chagrin, and she gazed out the window while her unabated curiosity gnawed burning holes. Shopping? Why? For what? He wouldn't reward her, not after catching her red-handed in defying him. Twice she opened her mouth to ask, but twice she closed it again, afraid to overstep further by speaking without express permission at this point. She did not recognize the passing scenery, could spot no landmarks that would give her an indication of where he was taking her. And he was not even acknowledging her presence next to him; every moment that passed without so much as a glance drove home to her the gravity of the situation she'd created for herself.
And so, she was quietly miserable.
Dražen was fully aware of the agonies in which she was writhing, but let her continue to roast. He knew that withholding all contact was a difficult discipline in itself for her, but she'd crossed a final line that day. Her willful defiance had gotten her more than her share of discipline since the time he'd accepted her offer of submission. He was a patient Master, recognizing her potential and allowing her far more leniency than most, but time after time, she'd recklessly driven past the limits and boundaries he'd placed for her. He was aware that the majority of her bouts of misbehavior stemmed from her own subconscious need of gaining security and stability based on his reactions, as well as an unconscious way to get his attention--but it was time his little Selena learned a solid lesson of what he was truly capable of when she crossed him.
____________
She gazed with open-mouthed wonder at the building before them. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen before--beautiful to incredulity, yet its darkly gothic styling lent an undercurrent of uneasy foreboding.
"Come," he said shortly, breaking nearly two hours of silence. He reached for her arm and began to lead her toward the huge house. He'd taken only a few steps, but halted at the touch of her forehead to the back of his wrist. He sighed with calculated impatience, noting the slight cringe it produced in her bowed shoulders, then granted her silent but obvious request. "You may speak."
"Thank you, Sir. I…" Selena stood upright, her eyes flying back to the house. "I…I don't…what…"
"You ask for permission to speak, then have nothing coherent to say?" he cut into her stammered words. "What do you want to know? Where we are?"
"Yes, please, Sir." She paused again, then with a light shiver, she ventured, "It looks--"
"It's supposed to," he interrupted her. "This establishment belongs to a colleague of mine, Lady Moriah. This is where she conducts her business."
"Oh." Selena bit her lower lip as he once again began to walk toward the house and followed in his wake. "Sir?" she asked hesitantly.
"What now?"
"What kind of business does she run?"
Dražen turned to her at the foot of the steps, once again wearing the smile with the icy mercilessness beneath it. "She's in the business of discipline." Ignoring the horror that washed over her face, he continued, "Listen to me. From the moment that door is opened to us, you are to be seen and not heard. You do not speak unless spoken to. I want you to be on your absolute best behavior. Do not, under any circumstances, give me reason to give you more punishment than you've already earned today. I guarantee you will not like it." His eyes bored into hers. "Do you understand?"
"Y…yes," she replied faintly.
"Yes, what?"
Her eyes lowered to the ground to hide the flash of sullenness. "Yes, Sir," she said tonelessly.
____________
"Good evening, sir," the concierge greeted Dražen with stoic graciousness. Selena noted with the faintest touch of leftover pique that the discreetly uniformed man did not spare her more than a passing initial glance before focusing his attention intently on her dominant. "Thank you for joining us. Where may I take you this evening?"
"Lady Moriah will be expecting me," Dražen replied.
The concierge nodded. "Of course, sir. Would you like to wait in the parlor while I let her know you've arrived?"
Dražen shook his head. "No. Her office will suit."
"As you wish, sir. If you'll follow me, please."
At Dražen's nod, they followed the man up the marble staircase and through the exquisitely decorated halls. Selena barely registered the resplendence of the manse as her anxiety pulsed through her. What was he going to do to her? A worse thought yet, what would he have done to her--and by whom?
Once settled in the seating area of the office, Dražen again remained stoically silent, studying the brandy in the glass the concierge had provided him before taking leave to locate the lady of the house; the dominant again avoided so much as eye contact with his nervous submissive kneeling at his feet. Selena, beginning to chafe at his treatment of her, felt a sudden surge of anger and actually opened her mouth to voice her objections. Dražen looked at her at the sound of her intake of breath to speak, his eyes narrowing warningly, but before she could further throw caution to the wind, the adjoining door opened and Lady Moriah entered the room.
"Dražen," she smiled with cordial warmth, extending a beautifully-manicured hand to him as he rose to his feet. "How nice to see you again. Your call was a surprise."
"A welcome one, I hope," he replied in kind as he clasped her hand for a moment, disconcerting Selena with the unexpected charm he exuded toward the beautiful, dark-haired woman. A small stab of jealousy added itself to the roiling mix of emotions she continued to struggle with silently and she gritted her teeth.
"Absolutely. It's been far too long." She glanced at the girl still kneeling to his right and her smile became slightly knowing. "To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure, then?"
"I'd heard you'd made some remarkable additions here of late. I believe that both Selena and I would enjoy seeing them, if you've the time to give us a quick tour, perhaps?"
"I'd be delighted." Lady Moriah paused as Dražen tapped the top of his submissive's head, noting the faint look of annoyance on the girl's face as she rose, then added, "Right this way." They exited through another door and Selena again assumed the rear as the trio proceeded leisurely down yet another hallway. She walked as closely as she dared, straining to overhear the conversation--then swallowed convulsively, wishing she hadn't.
At Dražen's query for further information, Lady Moriah explained, "I finally decided it was time to join in on the technology wave and expand the options available, both to my clients as well as to the remunerative side of the house. I enlisted the creative talents of some of my acquaintances and thanks to their hard work, have just recently unveiled the newest wing here, designed specifically for not only providing needed or requested discipline but for the viewing pleasures of same for others." She stopped before a door, and with her hand on the latch, continued, "The displays you're about to see are available for viewing in three forms; personal, as we are about to do; in digital video form, which is available for purchase--a copy of the original is included in the initial fee paid by the client, of course, but with a signed release, they also receive royalties of any sales to the public; and by live-feed via my new membership-based website. Further, the methods of discipline currently being employed are truly state of the art, designed especially both by and for me. Some of the mechanisms being utilized are under consideration for patent, as they're quite innovative." She cast another knowing smile to him. "As I'm well aware of your own preferences, Dražen, I've brought you to the sector used specifically for various forms of attention to the feet."
She pushed open the door and they entered another wide hallway. It was dimly lit and on the right was a long sectionally-divided glass wall, reminiscent of a guarded display at a museum. On a metal strip alongside each was a shiny black button over a small digital readout. They moved to the first section and Lady Moriah reached for the button, saying, "In this case, one of my dominant clients requested that her submissive be exposed to extensive, prolonged tickling, as she'd always expressed an almost phobic reaction to the idea of suffering from it due to the hypersensitivity of her feet. As a result of some recent unruly behavior, she was placed in our care this morning and has been undergoing this session of her discipline for--" she glanced at the readout--"54 minutes, with another 66 remaining. Her second session will commence after a 30 minute reprieve, after which her Mistress will decide if a third session is necessary.
"And a small sidenote--once each of the displays is activated, while we will be able to see and hear what's occurring, the one being punished cannot see or hear us. Although that's an option that will eventually be available, for now it's not in place. The psychological impact that their disciplinary sessions are being recorded as well as can be viewed online has been effective enough in itself so far."
She then pressed the small button and as the privacy screen slowly slid aside, shrieking, hysterical laughter permeated the hallway via an unseen sound system. Feeling her shrink back slightly, Dražen reached for Selena's elbow and firmly positioned her directly in front of the window, murmuring sternly, "Keep your eyes open and pay attention."
The girl behind the glass was in obvious agony as her immobilized feet underwent relentless, mechanical tickling. She was seated on a small secured stool and sat at an angle, her back to the rear corner of the small chamber and her legs forward, her naked soles in plain view to the observers. While she was bodily unrestrained to permit and even encourage full writhing on her part, as much as her precarious seating would allow in any event, the stocks that imprisoned her ankles must surely have been one of the more innovative designs Lady Moriah had mentioned; clear, thick plexiglass through which her feet protruded, with her largest and smallest toes held fast by rings attached to it, effectively immobilizing her feet from anything more than tormented twitching. At each of her feet, small bluntly pointed metal rods attached to mechanized devices were moving slowly up and down her soles in random patterns, sometimes scribbling rapidly to and fro, sometimes in concentric circular motions.
The clear plastic allowed there to be no obstructions of visibility, hers from what was happening to her nor anyone observing, but was also precisely high enough to prevent her from reaching forward over it to interfere with her ticklish tortures, as did the lack of balance she would endure from the seat should she stretch forward. Instead, in response to her tortures, she repeatedly reached for and yanked at her own hair, her head thrown back as she twisted and jerked, tears pouring down her cheeks unabated as she screamed with laughter.
"Your comment on her hypersensitivity certainly wasn't exaggerated," Dražen commented to the Mistress as Selena fought to control her own squirming while they witnessed the girl's discomfort.
"Indeed. Although her feet were seen to prior to her session as well, to increase her experience, of course," Lady Moriah responded. At his quizzical expression, she added with a slight wicked smile, "I've found that a thin layer of oil-based capsaicin ointment followed by a bit of itching powder is highly effective for this method. The heat increases the sensitivity, the powder adheres to the ointment, and the ointment acts as a lubricant to intensify the sensation the rods produce."
Dražen nodded his appreciation. "You've always been quite creative in your methodology. You never cease to impress me," he replied with an equally wicked smile. He glanced at Selena, noting her reaction to what she was witnessing, then requested casually, "Shall we move on?"
At the next section, Lady Moriah advised, "This is an independent client, referred by another member and here only to satisfy her own craving for physical torment via predicament factor. She made no personal requests, asked only to be forced to endure something of my own choosing. I felt she would be perfect to use as a trial run on this technique." She pushed the button.
The sounds the girl was making were difficult to identify, easily mistaken as either agony or ecstasy. Once the screen had slid aside, though, it became apparent that they were most likely a combination of both. She was balanced on the balls of her feet on a 2" rounded shaft, her ankles manacled and chained to it to prevent her from removing her feet from it. She was gripping a matching shaft located arms-length above her head. Between her legs and positioned within a mere few inches of her genitals was a third shaft, one which Lady Moriah informed them was set for constant low vibration. Beneath and below her heels was yet another shaft, one that was glowing brightly with obvious heat. To lower herself and ease the accumulating painful tension in her feet and calves from maintaining the rigid balanced position would bring her flush against the vibrating rod and increasingly titillate her, but would also lower her soles and heels to within extreme discomfort distance from the heat source. The vibration of the rod between her thighs was low enough to require a longer period of time in order to provide full satisfaction, but to maintain that contact with it brought more than a little distress from the searing heated rod as the bare flesh of her feet hovered more closely over it. She was in constant and cumulative torment of one variety or another, no matter which position she assumed. Her copious vocalizations attested to that.
"Ingenious. And how long will she be subjected to this?" Dražen inquired, ignoring Selena's sudden subtle pressing against his side as she watched the torment in quiet horror.
Lady Moriah smiled. "Until I decide it should cease." They moved on to the next section.
"This one is a more intense variation of the last method," Lady Moriah commented. "The submissive involved was presented in order to prove herself to her dominant. He was given reason to doubt her commitment to him and instructed that she continue to endure her punishment until she truly understood the ramifications of betrayal to him. She has shown herself to have a somewhat high tolerance for discomfort and is persistent in her claim that she's done nothing wrong. However, as she's actually only been subjected for less than an hour, I have no doubt she will recognize the error of her behavior soon enough."
The screen slid aside and instantly, a cacophony of cries and screams interspersed with vicious cursing filled the air. The girl before them was nude, with her hands restrained above her head in the 10 and 2 o'clock positions. As before, she was balanced on the balls of her feet, but this time, the bar was much thinner, perhaps an inch in diameter, and, Lady Moriah told them, was being periodically heated to just short of actually searing her skin. Unlike the previous technique, the girl's ankles were not restrained and she had the ability to remove her feet at any time. However, should she remove either of her feet from the bar, the attached computerized mechanism would register the weight change and she would receive immediate electrical current through the wired clamps attached to both her nipples and her clitoris, which would continue until her full weight was once again recognized on the bar. As the three watched intently, the rod obviously started to heat. The girl began to cry out as the heat became more and more intense, until she suddenly jerked herself off the bar by pulling up on the hand restraints to escape the pain from the metal rod. The instant her feet left the bar, her cries turned to shrill screams as the strategically placed clamps began to deliver electrical shock. She shrieked, twitched and writhed in mid-air, hanging suspended by her wrists, until she could take no more of the electricity's assault on her most sensitive areas and once again placed her full body weight on the still-hot metal rod. Too hot, apparently, and she danced back and forth from foot to foot to escape it, but again, when her full weight was not on the bar, current returned to coursing through the clamps. At last, the rod began to cool to a more tolerable temperature and she again managed to balance on the rod, her curses weaker and interrupted by her sobs.
Lady Moriah watched casually, noting, "Oh, the first breakthrough. That's a positive step."
Selena looked at her, flabbergasted, unable to comprehend how anything that she'd just witnessed could be construed as positive, until Dražen remarked, "First time she's cried?" At Lady Moriah's nod, he agreed, "Usually an indication that one is making headway with the rebellious, yes. I believe you're correct, it shouldn't be much longer at all." They watched a moment longer, then Lady Moriah moved again down the glass to the next display as they followed.
"This technique was presented to me in theory, and at first I didn't think it would be effective. However, the girl currently being disciplined is the third to endure it, and I must admit, I was wrong to doubt. But please--tell me what you think." She pushed the button, an action which Selena was beginning to mortally dread.
When the screen opened, she thought at first that perhaps the sound system had glitched as there was nothing audible coming from the cubicle whatsoever. She studied the girl and her position, trying to visualize what would happen to the victim that would be harrowing, but she was truly approaching brainlock at that point. She found herself not reaching any conclusion but instead only repeating a small mantra that she would not be forced to watch much more of these punishments. Selena was nearly at her wit's end.
This girl was lying on her back, her legs straight up in the air. Her ankles were restrained through a stock board with her feet held flat by toe ties attached to the surface of the board. Positioned above her soles was a largish, funnel-shaped object ending in a thin round opening. Attached adjacent to that was what appeared to be some sort of fine-tipped jet, complete with a slender hose. Currently, there was no activity from within the room whatsoever. Selena listened closely, and became aware that the only sound that could be heard from the waiting victim was her extremely rapid, apprehensive breathing, which Selena's was now almost matching.
There was an audible click. Suddenly, something began tumbling from the funnel, like sand through an hour glass, striking and bouncing off the bottoms of the girl's feet before trickling off the sides of the ankle board. She began a low moaning at the sensation, her head rocking on the padding of the table she was lying on. Another click, followed by a whirring and the funnel began to slowly traverse backward and forward, so the cascade moved up and down the length of her soles, and her moans escalated. What could those things be? Selena wondered silently. Whatever they were, they glistened in the light of the room as though they were a stream of diamonds.
As though she'd heard the question in Selena's mind, Lady Moriah said, "Those are specially designed, heavyweight lead crystals. They're extreme in the facet cut, making them very sharply pointed, and the height from which they're dropped maximizes the impact of their weight. I've been told that not only does the prickling sensation grow progressively and more maddeningly intense, so does the feeling of being tickled by them. When the container is empty, the jet will take over while it refills, then the process repeats itself until it reaches the end of the programmed amount of cycles."
"Jet?" Dražen asked, his eyes on Selena's face, unbeknownst to her.
"Yes. That hose provides a high-pressure jet stream of water. Ice water, in fact," Lady Moriah replied. "Watch, it's about to start."
The flow of crystals had slowed and at last stopped. Before the captive girl had a chance to catch her breath, however, the jet Lady Moriah had mentioned began to spray a needle-fine stream of water, striking and following the same pattern along her feet. She arched her back and shrieked, not only at the intense, painful tickling the jet produced but from the frigid water that was dripping over the sides of the board and down onto her naked flesh. Within a few moments, the spurting water ceased and the lead crystals began to flow once more. The icy water had obviously sensitized her soles, and they watched while the girl began to thrash to the extent of her capability, her moans resurfacing but now including spurts of laughter and peppered with an occasional howl.
Selena had instinctively wrapped her arms around herself as she watched the victim's ongoing torment, wanting nothing more now than to stop, to go home, to hide somewhere, anywhere. She'd never imagined any type of activity that came close to equaling what she'd seen tonight. What kind of woman was this Moriah? How could she do this to people? And what of Dražen? He was the one who brought her here, forced her to witness these heinous things--and he called this shopping? What kind of shopping could possibly…
Possible, petrifying comprehension suddenly crashed in on her. Oh, no. Oh, God, no. She looked at him abruptly, eyes wide, only to find him watching her in return with that icy, merciless smile once again teasing the corners of his mouth.
Before Selena could fathom any possible reaction to him, Lady Moriah said apologetically, "Dražen, I am so sorry, but we must continue now. I have another appointment coming soon, but I do want to show you the final display before I must take my leave of you."
"Of course," he replied, holding Selena's gaze for a moment longer before looking once more to their hostess. "I wouldn't want to miss that, especially not after this one. I wouldn't have believed the effectiveness of it myself, had I not had the privilege to witness it. But please, by all means." He grasped his submissive's elbow firmly and the three walked to the last display.
Once there, Lady Moriah stated with a note of evident pride, "This is one of my personal favorites. It combines a series of actions designed to effect on all three levels of vulnerability to the subject--emotional, physical and psychological. The girl you'll see here is slightly claustrophobic as well as having heightened reaction to any form of suspense. Her dominant offered her for this session to repay a past favor from me. I believe this will be one of our best-selling clips, once it's complete." She glanced at the digital readout as she pressed the display button, adding, "There are currently over 2000 internet viewers watching this one right now."
At the push of the final button, Selena fought to make no sound as the tableau opened before them. Clicking started, sounding almost like a huge clock, along with a continuous whimpering. The girl was wrapped tightly in latex sheets, held completely immobile by the tight mummification and the strap that passed across her chest. She was seated with her legs extended in front of her, ankles enclosed in traditional wooden stocks. A thin, dowel-like rod was positioned beneath her toes, holding them back firmly and keeping her feet taut and motionless as well. Interestingly, she was the only one of all they'd witnessed who was gagged. Even though it was obviously pointless, Selena could see the girl's attempts at struggling against her bondage while her frantic eyes were locked onto the apparatus just past her feet.
Suspended from the ceiling were two pendulum-like shafts, each tipped with rubber balls that had molded sharp rubber spikes covering them. The clicking sound was made by the pendulums as they ratcheted themselves slowly back, one increment at a time. At the fifteenth click, the pendulums snapped forward and the spiked balls impacted the girl's feet, causing her to jump with a muffled cry. Again the pendulums began to ratchet back. Again, they snapped forward and pounded the girl's helpless soles. Yet again, the ratcheting began and as it continued inexorably, Lady Moriah explained, "These pendulums are set to cycle downward, from fifteen increments to one. The clicking sound you hear is purposeful, to build the suspense and to antagonize the mind, much like a dripping faucet or a tapping fingernail. The discomfort she's experiencing, both physical and mental, is cumulative, especially as the decreasing increments make each strike closer together. After the cycle reaches one, it returns to fifteen. It only takes one cycle to implant the expectation and anxiety of what's coming. For this submissive, the mummification preys on her claustrophobic tendencies as well as completely negates any form of physical self-comforting." She glanced significantly at Selena, whose arms were still wrapped around herself as she viewed the bound girl's anguish. "The gag also prevents any type of verbal expression, which further intensifies the feelings of helplessness and vulnerability."
"But no blindfold so she can watch and anticipate." Dražen shook his head, then squeezed her arm appreciatively. "I applaud you, Moriah. This is beyond anything at all I've ever seen in live practice. And that you're able to use all of this to increase the profitability of the venture tri-fold is even more impressive."
Lady Moriah nodded graciously. "My thanks. Your recognition means much." She pressed the button once more, and the privacy panel slid back across the glass, leaving Selena staring at a blank wall.
Dražen excused himself for a moment. He reached for his submissive's shoulders, turning her to face him. She was pliant physically, but could not raise her eyes above his chest. He could feel her trembling under his palms, knowing everything she'd just seen had impacted her greatly.
"Look at me, Selena," he directed.
Her face was still ashen, but she raised her eyes to his as directed.
"Razočarala si me," he stated. "You know that." He gestured to the row of displays behind them. "Which one will you choose?"
The shock of his words pummeled her system. She felt a wave of faintness wash over her while he studied her impassively. She'd disappointed him? Oh, God…anything but that! Her mouth opened and tears began to glisten on her lashes, but for that moment, no sound could be uttered. Disappointed him. And now she had to choose a torture? She looked at him helplessly, her shame and terror almost tangible, knowing as well as he did that the extremes they'd just witnessed were far beyond anything she'd ever withstood, much less imagined. A thousand thoughts chased themselves through her head, thoughts of bursting into tears and wailing her apologies, of throwing herself to the ground at his feet and literally begging him for reprieve, even an errant, wild one of turning and fleeing. She struggled to keep herself from panting in fear.
"Which one?" he pressed, studying her even more closely.
God, no, no, not her feet! She could barely watch those tortures being endured by someone else, much less pick one of her own! How could anyone ask someone to do that, to make such a choice? How could he, when he was supposed to be her… her…
Just then, a single light of clarity broke through the muddled horror of her thoughts. Her Master. He was supposed to be her Master.
He was her Master.
Of course. The answer was obvious.
Selena took a steadying breath and straightened her back. She closed her eyes for a moment, then lowered her head. "I choose whatever you would have for me, Sir," she replied simply.
A moment's pause, then he said evenly, "That's a somewhat admirable response, but you aren't answering the question."
She raised her eyes to his again. "I'm sorry, Sir. Then…" She took one more deep breath, then let it out with a tremulous sigh. "…then I choose the one that you think will cause me to suffer the most."
His left brow flicked up slightly. "And why would that be?"
Her tears now slowly slipped down her cheeks, but she maintained her gaze. "Because I disobeyed you. Because I knowingly did something forbidden." She paused, then added, "Because I'm not worthy."
"Go on," he replied. "Why aren't you?"
"Because I was willful. I belong to you. And failing you or disappointing you is worse than any physical punishment I'd have to take." She lowered her eyes once more in shame. "Because I really don't deserve your mercy."
He studied her a few seconds longer, then brushed a tear from her face. "And because you're finally able to recognize all that, you've earned some," he murmured quietly. "You're finally learning, Selena. Good girl."
Ignoring her startled expression, he turned to the Mistress who had discreetly stepped out of earshot for the exchange between the dominant and his submissive and said, "Lady Moriah, I thank you for taking the time to show this to us. It's beyond extraordinary, as I said. I completely understand why I heard so much about it."
"It was my pleasure, of course. Will you be requiring any services today?" the woman asked serenely.
"No, I don't think so. Not today." He offered her a smile as he ran a hand down the length of his overwhelmed submissive's hair. "We were just…window shopping."
Lady Moriah returned his smile, a tiny twinkle in her eyes. "Of course, Dražen," she replied. "Until next time, then." She bowed her head very slightly to him in farewell, then glided gracefully away.
He took Selena's hand, unable to stifle his smirk at her expression of total confusion and obvious relief. "Yes?" he asked teasingly as he led her towards the door that exited discreetly to the rear of the building. "Something you'd like to say?"
Her eyes were wide, and adoration began to shine through the other emotions. "Yes, please. Oh, God, thank you, Sir! Thank you! But…" she paused, her brow furrowing. "You said I was going to be punished…"
He brushed a lock of her hair away from her face. "Did I say it would be a physical punishment?"
"N-no, Sir…" she replied uncertainly.
"Wasn't seeing those things you thought could happen to you a punishment in itself?"
She nodded vigorously. "Yes, definitely, Sir!"
"All right then. You've been punished. But…" he stopped walking, took her chin in his fingers and leaned down a bit, locking her eyes with his. "Now you also know what I may choose in the future, should you continue to decide it's all right to disobey me. Is that understood?" She nodded her agreement, unable to find the breath to speak, as she sometimes did with him so close to her. "And you would take whatever I chose for you without question. Wouldn't you?"
"Yes…" she murmured, still trapped in his eyes.
"Yes…what?" His eyebrow climbed yet again.
"Yes, Master," she replied easily, letting the warmth of his satisfied grin roll over her like sunshine, then sighed happily at the words she always longed to hear come from his lips--
"Moja dobra djevojčice."
And in that moment, as the previously-unknown sense of soul-peace washed over her…she got it. She understood fully that there was unspeakable joy in relinquishing everything to him, in finding her true sense of self within his pleasures, in accepting there was no weakness but deep satisfaction from her unwavering obedience to him, and in knowing that by trusting him implicitly, he would unfailingly bring her through anything safely.
Yes…she finally was his good little girl.
My deepest love and gratitude to Redscript, who forced me to stretch outside of my literary comfort zone to write this for him and refused to let me give up, under pain of the most miserable discipline I've ever known. No, really.
And to CrystalLight, who held my hand and even cyber-smacked me around a bit while I bitched and whimpered my way through the writing process. Growing pains always hurt like hell! But I do love you both, wouldn't be what I am without you. And special thanks to Myriads, who lent me a bit of foundational knowledge during my floundering research on the actions you will find herein.
To those who take the time to read my work, I remain--
Faithfully yours,
Mistress Aura
_________________________________
Window Shopping
clw - 10/08
clw - 10/08
"Get dressed," he said to her sternly.
Selena jumped guiltily at the sound of his voice, made even more ominous by his tone, and scrambled to her feet. 'Oh, God, no,' she thought in blind panic, 'how long was he watching me?' She'd had no idea he'd come home, had been so involved behind her closed eyes with her fantasies and languorous self-exploration, she'd not paid attention to the time and had never heard him enter the apartment. Now he stood in the bedroom doorway as though he was made of stone, his face telling her he'd seen more than enough of her illicit and currently forbidden activities to garner immediate discipline. No, not discipline. She knew better--this unfortunate incident would ramp up the discipline she'd already been enduring to an all-out punishment.
Eyes wide, she opened her mouth with a stammer, but he cut her off. "You will be quiet. Do as you're told immediately or you'll only make it worse," he advised with steel in his voice, his eyes underscoring his seriousness. In a final, frantic attempt to assuage his irritation with her, she dropped to her hands and knees and began to crawl forward, hoping to press her lips to his shoe in supplication. He stopped her movement by placing his foot on her lowered head. "Selena. Now."
Without further hesitation and with tears welling in her eyes, she rose and reached for her bathrobe but froze at his short, impatient exhalation. "Put on street clothes," he directed flatly. "And your collar. We're going out." She looked at him with wordless question, not daring to disobey yet further by speaking. The slight underlying mercilessness beneath his sudden smile made her shudder involuntarily as he added, "We're going shopping."
__________
The trip was silent, much to her growing chagrin, and she gazed out the window while her unabated curiosity gnawed burning holes. Shopping? Why? For what? He wouldn't reward her, not after catching her red-handed in defying him. Twice she opened her mouth to ask, but twice she closed it again, afraid to overstep further by speaking without express permission at this point. She did not recognize the passing scenery, could spot no landmarks that would give her an indication of where he was taking her. And he was not even acknowledging her presence next to him; every moment that passed without so much as a glance drove home to her the gravity of the situation she'd created for herself.
And so, she was quietly miserable.
Dražen was fully aware of the agonies in which she was writhing, but let her continue to roast. He knew that withholding all contact was a difficult discipline in itself for her, but she'd crossed a final line that day. Her willful defiance had gotten her more than her share of discipline since the time he'd accepted her offer of submission. He was a patient Master, recognizing her potential and allowing her far more leniency than most, but time after time, she'd recklessly driven past the limits and boundaries he'd placed for her. He was aware that the majority of her bouts of misbehavior stemmed from her own subconscious need of gaining security and stability based on his reactions, as well as an unconscious way to get his attention--but it was time his little Selena learned a solid lesson of what he was truly capable of when she crossed him.
____________
She gazed with open-mouthed wonder at the building before them. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen before--beautiful to incredulity, yet its darkly gothic styling lent an undercurrent of uneasy foreboding.
"Come," he said shortly, breaking nearly two hours of silence. He reached for her arm and began to lead her toward the huge house. He'd taken only a few steps, but halted at the touch of her forehead to the back of his wrist. He sighed with calculated impatience, noting the slight cringe it produced in her bowed shoulders, then granted her silent but obvious request. "You may speak."
"Thank you, Sir. I…" Selena stood upright, her eyes flying back to the house. "I…I don't…what…"
"You ask for permission to speak, then have nothing coherent to say?" he cut into her stammered words. "What do you want to know? Where we are?"
"Yes, please, Sir." She paused again, then with a light shiver, she ventured, "It looks--"
"It's supposed to," he interrupted her. "This establishment belongs to a colleague of mine, Lady Moriah. This is where she conducts her business."
"Oh." Selena bit her lower lip as he once again began to walk toward the house and followed in his wake. "Sir?" she asked hesitantly.
"What now?"
"What kind of business does she run?"
Dražen turned to her at the foot of the steps, once again wearing the smile with the icy mercilessness beneath it. "She's in the business of discipline." Ignoring the horror that washed over her face, he continued, "Listen to me. From the moment that door is opened to us, you are to be seen and not heard. You do not speak unless spoken to. I want you to be on your absolute best behavior. Do not, under any circumstances, give me reason to give you more punishment than you've already earned today. I guarantee you will not like it." His eyes bored into hers. "Do you understand?"
"Y…yes," she replied faintly.
"Yes, what?"
Her eyes lowered to the ground to hide the flash of sullenness. "Yes, Sir," she said tonelessly.
____________
"Good evening, sir," the concierge greeted Dražen with stoic graciousness. Selena noted with the faintest touch of leftover pique that the discreetly uniformed man did not spare her more than a passing initial glance before focusing his attention intently on her dominant. "Thank you for joining us. Where may I take you this evening?"
"Lady Moriah will be expecting me," Dražen replied.
The concierge nodded. "Of course, sir. Would you like to wait in the parlor while I let her know you've arrived?"
Dražen shook his head. "No. Her office will suit."
"As you wish, sir. If you'll follow me, please."
At Dražen's nod, they followed the man up the marble staircase and through the exquisitely decorated halls. Selena barely registered the resplendence of the manse as her anxiety pulsed through her. What was he going to do to her? A worse thought yet, what would he have done to her--and by whom?
Once settled in the seating area of the office, Dražen again remained stoically silent, studying the brandy in the glass the concierge had provided him before taking leave to locate the lady of the house; the dominant again avoided so much as eye contact with his nervous submissive kneeling at his feet. Selena, beginning to chafe at his treatment of her, felt a sudden surge of anger and actually opened her mouth to voice her objections. Dražen looked at her at the sound of her intake of breath to speak, his eyes narrowing warningly, but before she could further throw caution to the wind, the adjoining door opened and Lady Moriah entered the room.
"Dražen," she smiled with cordial warmth, extending a beautifully-manicured hand to him as he rose to his feet. "How nice to see you again. Your call was a surprise."
"A welcome one, I hope," he replied in kind as he clasped her hand for a moment, disconcerting Selena with the unexpected charm he exuded toward the beautiful, dark-haired woman. A small stab of jealousy added itself to the roiling mix of emotions she continued to struggle with silently and she gritted her teeth.
"Absolutely. It's been far too long." She glanced at the girl still kneeling to his right and her smile became slightly knowing. "To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure, then?"
"I'd heard you'd made some remarkable additions here of late. I believe that both Selena and I would enjoy seeing them, if you've the time to give us a quick tour, perhaps?"
"I'd be delighted." Lady Moriah paused as Dražen tapped the top of his submissive's head, noting the faint look of annoyance on the girl's face as she rose, then added, "Right this way." They exited through another door and Selena again assumed the rear as the trio proceeded leisurely down yet another hallway. She walked as closely as she dared, straining to overhear the conversation--then swallowed convulsively, wishing she hadn't.
At Dražen's query for further information, Lady Moriah explained, "I finally decided it was time to join in on the technology wave and expand the options available, both to my clients as well as to the remunerative side of the house. I enlisted the creative talents of some of my acquaintances and thanks to their hard work, have just recently unveiled the newest wing here, designed specifically for not only providing needed or requested discipline but for the viewing pleasures of same for others." She stopped before a door, and with her hand on the latch, continued, "The displays you're about to see are available for viewing in three forms; personal, as we are about to do; in digital video form, which is available for purchase--a copy of the original is included in the initial fee paid by the client, of course, but with a signed release, they also receive royalties of any sales to the public; and by live-feed via my new membership-based website. Further, the methods of discipline currently being employed are truly state of the art, designed especially both by and for me. Some of the mechanisms being utilized are under consideration for patent, as they're quite innovative." She cast another knowing smile to him. "As I'm well aware of your own preferences, Dražen, I've brought you to the sector used specifically for various forms of attention to the feet."
She pushed open the door and they entered another wide hallway. It was dimly lit and on the right was a long sectionally-divided glass wall, reminiscent of a guarded display at a museum. On a metal strip alongside each was a shiny black button over a small digital readout. They moved to the first section and Lady Moriah reached for the button, saying, "In this case, one of my dominant clients requested that her submissive be exposed to extensive, prolonged tickling, as she'd always expressed an almost phobic reaction to the idea of suffering from it due to the hypersensitivity of her feet. As a result of some recent unruly behavior, she was placed in our care this morning and has been undergoing this session of her discipline for--" she glanced at the readout--"54 minutes, with another 66 remaining. Her second session will commence after a 30 minute reprieve, after which her Mistress will decide if a third session is necessary.
"And a small sidenote--once each of the displays is activated, while we will be able to see and hear what's occurring, the one being punished cannot see or hear us. Although that's an option that will eventually be available, for now it's not in place. The psychological impact that their disciplinary sessions are being recorded as well as can be viewed online has been effective enough in itself so far."
She then pressed the small button and as the privacy screen slowly slid aside, shrieking, hysterical laughter permeated the hallway via an unseen sound system. Feeling her shrink back slightly, Dražen reached for Selena's elbow and firmly positioned her directly in front of the window, murmuring sternly, "Keep your eyes open and pay attention."
The girl behind the glass was in obvious agony as her immobilized feet underwent relentless, mechanical tickling. She was seated on a small secured stool and sat at an angle, her back to the rear corner of the small chamber and her legs forward, her naked soles in plain view to the observers. While she was bodily unrestrained to permit and even encourage full writhing on her part, as much as her precarious seating would allow in any event, the stocks that imprisoned her ankles must surely have been one of the more innovative designs Lady Moriah had mentioned; clear, thick plexiglass through which her feet protruded, with her largest and smallest toes held fast by rings attached to it, effectively immobilizing her feet from anything more than tormented twitching. At each of her feet, small bluntly pointed metal rods attached to mechanized devices were moving slowly up and down her soles in random patterns, sometimes scribbling rapidly to and fro, sometimes in concentric circular motions.
The clear plastic allowed there to be no obstructions of visibility, hers from what was happening to her nor anyone observing, but was also precisely high enough to prevent her from reaching forward over it to interfere with her ticklish tortures, as did the lack of balance she would endure from the seat should she stretch forward. Instead, in response to her tortures, she repeatedly reached for and yanked at her own hair, her head thrown back as she twisted and jerked, tears pouring down her cheeks unabated as she screamed with laughter.
"Your comment on her hypersensitivity certainly wasn't exaggerated," Dražen commented to the Mistress as Selena fought to control her own squirming while they witnessed the girl's discomfort.
"Indeed. Although her feet were seen to prior to her session as well, to increase her experience, of course," Lady Moriah responded. At his quizzical expression, she added with a slight wicked smile, "I've found that a thin layer of oil-based capsaicin ointment followed by a bit of itching powder is highly effective for this method. The heat increases the sensitivity, the powder adheres to the ointment, and the ointment acts as a lubricant to intensify the sensation the rods produce."
Dražen nodded his appreciation. "You've always been quite creative in your methodology. You never cease to impress me," he replied with an equally wicked smile. He glanced at Selena, noting her reaction to what she was witnessing, then requested casually, "Shall we move on?"
At the next section, Lady Moriah advised, "This is an independent client, referred by another member and here only to satisfy her own craving for physical torment via predicament factor. She made no personal requests, asked only to be forced to endure something of my own choosing. I felt she would be perfect to use as a trial run on this technique." She pushed the button.
The sounds the girl was making were difficult to identify, easily mistaken as either agony or ecstasy. Once the screen had slid aside, though, it became apparent that they were most likely a combination of both. She was balanced on the balls of her feet on a 2" rounded shaft, her ankles manacled and chained to it to prevent her from removing her feet from it. She was gripping a matching shaft located arms-length above her head. Between her legs and positioned within a mere few inches of her genitals was a third shaft, one which Lady Moriah informed them was set for constant low vibration. Beneath and below her heels was yet another shaft, one that was glowing brightly with obvious heat. To lower herself and ease the accumulating painful tension in her feet and calves from maintaining the rigid balanced position would bring her flush against the vibrating rod and increasingly titillate her, but would also lower her soles and heels to within extreme discomfort distance from the heat source. The vibration of the rod between her thighs was low enough to require a longer period of time in order to provide full satisfaction, but to maintain that contact with it brought more than a little distress from the searing heated rod as the bare flesh of her feet hovered more closely over it. She was in constant and cumulative torment of one variety or another, no matter which position she assumed. Her copious vocalizations attested to that.
"Ingenious. And how long will she be subjected to this?" Dražen inquired, ignoring Selena's sudden subtle pressing against his side as she watched the torment in quiet horror.
Lady Moriah smiled. "Until I decide it should cease." They moved on to the next section.
"This one is a more intense variation of the last method," Lady Moriah commented. "The submissive involved was presented in order to prove herself to her dominant. He was given reason to doubt her commitment to him and instructed that she continue to endure her punishment until she truly understood the ramifications of betrayal to him. She has shown herself to have a somewhat high tolerance for discomfort and is persistent in her claim that she's done nothing wrong. However, as she's actually only been subjected for less than an hour, I have no doubt she will recognize the error of her behavior soon enough."
The screen slid aside and instantly, a cacophony of cries and screams interspersed with vicious cursing filled the air. The girl before them was nude, with her hands restrained above her head in the 10 and 2 o'clock positions. As before, she was balanced on the balls of her feet, but this time, the bar was much thinner, perhaps an inch in diameter, and, Lady Moriah told them, was being periodically heated to just short of actually searing her skin. Unlike the previous technique, the girl's ankles were not restrained and she had the ability to remove her feet at any time. However, should she remove either of her feet from the bar, the attached computerized mechanism would register the weight change and she would receive immediate electrical current through the wired clamps attached to both her nipples and her clitoris, which would continue until her full weight was once again recognized on the bar. As the three watched intently, the rod obviously started to heat. The girl began to cry out as the heat became more and more intense, until she suddenly jerked herself off the bar by pulling up on the hand restraints to escape the pain from the metal rod. The instant her feet left the bar, her cries turned to shrill screams as the strategically placed clamps began to deliver electrical shock. She shrieked, twitched and writhed in mid-air, hanging suspended by her wrists, until she could take no more of the electricity's assault on her most sensitive areas and once again placed her full body weight on the still-hot metal rod. Too hot, apparently, and she danced back and forth from foot to foot to escape it, but again, when her full weight was not on the bar, current returned to coursing through the clamps. At last, the rod began to cool to a more tolerable temperature and she again managed to balance on the rod, her curses weaker and interrupted by her sobs.
Lady Moriah watched casually, noting, "Oh, the first breakthrough. That's a positive step."
Selena looked at her, flabbergasted, unable to comprehend how anything that she'd just witnessed could be construed as positive, until Dražen remarked, "First time she's cried?" At Lady Moriah's nod, he agreed, "Usually an indication that one is making headway with the rebellious, yes. I believe you're correct, it shouldn't be much longer at all." They watched a moment longer, then Lady Moriah moved again down the glass to the next display as they followed.
"This technique was presented to me in theory, and at first I didn't think it would be effective. However, the girl currently being disciplined is the third to endure it, and I must admit, I was wrong to doubt. But please--tell me what you think." She pushed the button, an action which Selena was beginning to mortally dread.
When the screen opened, she thought at first that perhaps the sound system had glitched as there was nothing audible coming from the cubicle whatsoever. She studied the girl and her position, trying to visualize what would happen to the victim that would be harrowing, but she was truly approaching brainlock at that point. She found herself not reaching any conclusion but instead only repeating a small mantra that she would not be forced to watch much more of these punishments. Selena was nearly at her wit's end.
This girl was lying on her back, her legs straight up in the air. Her ankles were restrained through a stock board with her feet held flat by toe ties attached to the surface of the board. Positioned above her soles was a largish, funnel-shaped object ending in a thin round opening. Attached adjacent to that was what appeared to be some sort of fine-tipped jet, complete with a slender hose. Currently, there was no activity from within the room whatsoever. Selena listened closely, and became aware that the only sound that could be heard from the waiting victim was her extremely rapid, apprehensive breathing, which Selena's was now almost matching.
There was an audible click. Suddenly, something began tumbling from the funnel, like sand through an hour glass, striking and bouncing off the bottoms of the girl's feet before trickling off the sides of the ankle board. She began a low moaning at the sensation, her head rocking on the padding of the table she was lying on. Another click, followed by a whirring and the funnel began to slowly traverse backward and forward, so the cascade moved up and down the length of her soles, and her moans escalated. What could those things be? Selena wondered silently. Whatever they were, they glistened in the light of the room as though they were a stream of diamonds.
As though she'd heard the question in Selena's mind, Lady Moriah said, "Those are specially designed, heavyweight lead crystals. They're extreme in the facet cut, making them very sharply pointed, and the height from which they're dropped maximizes the impact of their weight. I've been told that not only does the prickling sensation grow progressively and more maddeningly intense, so does the feeling of being tickled by them. When the container is empty, the jet will take over while it refills, then the process repeats itself until it reaches the end of the programmed amount of cycles."
"Jet?" Dražen asked, his eyes on Selena's face, unbeknownst to her.
"Yes. That hose provides a high-pressure jet stream of water. Ice water, in fact," Lady Moriah replied. "Watch, it's about to start."
The flow of crystals had slowed and at last stopped. Before the captive girl had a chance to catch her breath, however, the jet Lady Moriah had mentioned began to spray a needle-fine stream of water, striking and following the same pattern along her feet. She arched her back and shrieked, not only at the intense, painful tickling the jet produced but from the frigid water that was dripping over the sides of the board and down onto her naked flesh. Within a few moments, the spurting water ceased and the lead crystals began to flow once more. The icy water had obviously sensitized her soles, and they watched while the girl began to thrash to the extent of her capability, her moans resurfacing but now including spurts of laughter and peppered with an occasional howl.
Selena had instinctively wrapped her arms around herself as she watched the victim's ongoing torment, wanting nothing more now than to stop, to go home, to hide somewhere, anywhere. She'd never imagined any type of activity that came close to equaling what she'd seen tonight. What kind of woman was this Moriah? How could she do this to people? And what of Dražen? He was the one who brought her here, forced her to witness these heinous things--and he called this shopping? What kind of shopping could possibly…
Possible, petrifying comprehension suddenly crashed in on her. Oh, no. Oh, God, no. She looked at him abruptly, eyes wide, only to find him watching her in return with that icy, merciless smile once again teasing the corners of his mouth.
Before Selena could fathom any possible reaction to him, Lady Moriah said apologetically, "Dražen, I am so sorry, but we must continue now. I have another appointment coming soon, but I do want to show you the final display before I must take my leave of you."
"Of course," he replied, holding Selena's gaze for a moment longer before looking once more to their hostess. "I wouldn't want to miss that, especially not after this one. I wouldn't have believed the effectiveness of it myself, had I not had the privilege to witness it. But please, by all means." He grasped his submissive's elbow firmly and the three walked to the last display.
Once there, Lady Moriah stated with a note of evident pride, "This is one of my personal favorites. It combines a series of actions designed to effect on all three levels of vulnerability to the subject--emotional, physical and psychological. The girl you'll see here is slightly claustrophobic as well as having heightened reaction to any form of suspense. Her dominant offered her for this session to repay a past favor from me. I believe this will be one of our best-selling clips, once it's complete." She glanced at the digital readout as she pressed the display button, adding, "There are currently over 2000 internet viewers watching this one right now."
At the push of the final button, Selena fought to make no sound as the tableau opened before them. Clicking started, sounding almost like a huge clock, along with a continuous whimpering. The girl was wrapped tightly in latex sheets, held completely immobile by the tight mummification and the strap that passed across her chest. She was seated with her legs extended in front of her, ankles enclosed in traditional wooden stocks. A thin, dowel-like rod was positioned beneath her toes, holding them back firmly and keeping her feet taut and motionless as well. Interestingly, she was the only one of all they'd witnessed who was gagged. Even though it was obviously pointless, Selena could see the girl's attempts at struggling against her bondage while her frantic eyes were locked onto the apparatus just past her feet.
Suspended from the ceiling were two pendulum-like shafts, each tipped with rubber balls that had molded sharp rubber spikes covering them. The clicking sound was made by the pendulums as they ratcheted themselves slowly back, one increment at a time. At the fifteenth click, the pendulums snapped forward and the spiked balls impacted the girl's feet, causing her to jump with a muffled cry. Again the pendulums began to ratchet back. Again, they snapped forward and pounded the girl's helpless soles. Yet again, the ratcheting began and as it continued inexorably, Lady Moriah explained, "These pendulums are set to cycle downward, from fifteen increments to one. The clicking sound you hear is purposeful, to build the suspense and to antagonize the mind, much like a dripping faucet or a tapping fingernail. The discomfort she's experiencing, both physical and mental, is cumulative, especially as the decreasing increments make each strike closer together. After the cycle reaches one, it returns to fifteen. It only takes one cycle to implant the expectation and anxiety of what's coming. For this submissive, the mummification preys on her claustrophobic tendencies as well as completely negates any form of physical self-comforting." She glanced significantly at Selena, whose arms were still wrapped around herself as she viewed the bound girl's anguish. "The gag also prevents any type of verbal expression, which further intensifies the feelings of helplessness and vulnerability."
"But no blindfold so she can watch and anticipate." Dražen shook his head, then squeezed her arm appreciatively. "I applaud you, Moriah. This is beyond anything at all I've ever seen in live practice. And that you're able to use all of this to increase the profitability of the venture tri-fold is even more impressive."
Lady Moriah nodded graciously. "My thanks. Your recognition means much." She pressed the button once more, and the privacy panel slid back across the glass, leaving Selena staring at a blank wall.
Dražen excused himself for a moment. He reached for his submissive's shoulders, turning her to face him. She was pliant physically, but could not raise her eyes above his chest. He could feel her trembling under his palms, knowing everything she'd just seen had impacted her greatly.
"Look at me, Selena," he directed.
Her face was still ashen, but she raised her eyes to his as directed.
"Razočarala si me," he stated. "You know that." He gestured to the row of displays behind them. "Which one will you choose?"
The shock of his words pummeled her system. She felt a wave of faintness wash over her while he studied her impassively. She'd disappointed him? Oh, God…anything but that! Her mouth opened and tears began to glisten on her lashes, but for that moment, no sound could be uttered. Disappointed him. And now she had to choose a torture? She looked at him helplessly, her shame and terror almost tangible, knowing as well as he did that the extremes they'd just witnessed were far beyond anything she'd ever withstood, much less imagined. A thousand thoughts chased themselves through her head, thoughts of bursting into tears and wailing her apologies, of throwing herself to the ground at his feet and literally begging him for reprieve, even an errant, wild one of turning and fleeing. She struggled to keep herself from panting in fear.
"Which one?" he pressed, studying her even more closely.
God, no, no, not her feet! She could barely watch those tortures being endured by someone else, much less pick one of her own! How could anyone ask someone to do that, to make such a choice? How could he, when he was supposed to be her… her…
Just then, a single light of clarity broke through the muddled horror of her thoughts. Her Master. He was supposed to be her Master.
He was her Master.
Of course. The answer was obvious.
Selena took a steadying breath and straightened her back. She closed her eyes for a moment, then lowered her head. "I choose whatever you would have for me, Sir," she replied simply.
A moment's pause, then he said evenly, "That's a somewhat admirable response, but you aren't answering the question."
She raised her eyes to his again. "I'm sorry, Sir. Then…" She took one more deep breath, then let it out with a tremulous sigh. "…then I choose the one that you think will cause me to suffer the most."
His left brow flicked up slightly. "And why would that be?"
Her tears now slowly slipped down her cheeks, but she maintained her gaze. "Because I disobeyed you. Because I knowingly did something forbidden." She paused, then added, "Because I'm not worthy."
"Go on," he replied. "Why aren't you?"
"Because I was willful. I belong to you. And failing you or disappointing you is worse than any physical punishment I'd have to take." She lowered her eyes once more in shame. "Because I really don't deserve your mercy."
He studied her a few seconds longer, then brushed a tear from her face. "And because you're finally able to recognize all that, you've earned some," he murmured quietly. "You're finally learning, Selena. Good girl."
Ignoring her startled expression, he turned to the Mistress who had discreetly stepped out of earshot for the exchange between the dominant and his submissive and said, "Lady Moriah, I thank you for taking the time to show this to us. It's beyond extraordinary, as I said. I completely understand why I heard so much about it."
"It was my pleasure, of course. Will you be requiring any services today?" the woman asked serenely.
"No, I don't think so. Not today." He offered her a smile as he ran a hand down the length of his overwhelmed submissive's hair. "We were just…window shopping."
Lady Moriah returned his smile, a tiny twinkle in her eyes. "Of course, Dražen," she replied. "Until next time, then." She bowed her head very slightly to him in farewell, then glided gracefully away.
He took Selena's hand, unable to stifle his smirk at her expression of total confusion and obvious relief. "Yes?" he asked teasingly as he led her towards the door that exited discreetly to the rear of the building. "Something you'd like to say?"
Her eyes were wide, and adoration began to shine through the other emotions. "Yes, please. Oh, God, thank you, Sir! Thank you! But…" she paused, her brow furrowing. "You said I was going to be punished…"
He brushed a lock of her hair away from her face. "Did I say it would be a physical punishment?"
"N-no, Sir…" she replied uncertainly.
"Wasn't seeing those things you thought could happen to you a punishment in itself?"
She nodded vigorously. "Yes, definitely, Sir!"
"All right then. You've been punished. But…" he stopped walking, took her chin in his fingers and leaned down a bit, locking her eyes with his. "Now you also know what I may choose in the future, should you continue to decide it's all right to disobey me. Is that understood?" She nodded her agreement, unable to find the breath to speak, as she sometimes did with him so close to her. "And you would take whatever I chose for you without question. Wouldn't you?"
"Yes…" she murmured, still trapped in his eyes.
"Yes…what?" His eyebrow climbed yet again.
"Yes, Master," she replied easily, letting the warmth of his satisfied grin roll over her like sunshine, then sighed happily at the words she always longed to hear come from his lips--
"Moja dobra djevojčice."
And in that moment, as the previously-unknown sense of soul-peace washed over her…she got it. She understood fully that there was unspeakable joy in relinquishing everything to him, in finding her true sense of self within his pleasures, in accepting there was no weakness but deep satisfaction from her unwavering obedience to him, and in knowing that by trusting him implicitly, he would unfailingly bring her through anything safely.
Yes…she finally was his good little girl.
FINIS
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Damn. Not only have you crafted such an amazingly dark, intellectual story, you topped yourself every time within the story whenever you introduced a new scenerio to the poor mentally suffering sub and very thankfully, to us. 
Bumping for awesomeness!! 
