Chapter 26
My Monday afternoon housework at Mistress Lyn's place is more gruelling than previously. Not only does Mistress Lyn require perfection in my work, but the punishments are double what they were previously. Her dominant streak is bending my submissiveness almost to breaking point. I do my best to please her, but invariably I fall short of her exacting standards. By the end of the afternoon, I've accumulated no fewer than thirty strokes of her cane. I can reduce that to fifteen by accepting a caning before I leave, but I'm mindful of the twelve penalty points I earned last Saturday. Ten of those points were for being twenty minutes late in going off duty. The fact that I was detained in the dungeon by members of The Manor is irrelevant.
I know thirty cane strokes is more than I can tolerate, so I opt for an immediate punishment. It will make it difficult for me to sit down tonight at the weekly meeting of the pony club. To my horror, Mistress Lyn produces a different cane to her usual one. I soon learn that while this one inflicts thinner welts on my arse, the strokes are substantially more painful. The new cane also draws thin lines of blood, which the previous cane did not. I consider using my safe-word, but pride holds me back from doing so. As Mistress Lyn requires, I count the stokes and thank her for each stroke. She smiles at me as though my further debasement is a personal triumph for her. In the last twenty four hours, she has proved that she can fuck my husband at will, and beat my poor arse into a bloody pulp. I should feel humiliated and worthless, but my emotions are closer to a proud sense of achievement. I have no idea why I feel that way, since nothing that has happened to me in recent days provides any justification for my current euphoric state.
Mistress Lyn leaves me to limp home and prepare for tonight. I've less than two hours to clean myself up and get ready. I take a shower to wash off the blood and rub ointment over the welts. I look at my arse in the mirror and feel a strange mix of horror and excitement. Tom will surely fuck me silly when he sees the state of my arse. I manage to stop the bleeding and before long I can tolerate a light skirt over my arse. Sitting down will be problematic. Mistress Stella's house is too far for me to walk so I must be prepared to sit in Mistress Lyn's car. After that, I can probably avoid sitting down until it is time to come home.
I'm collected on time and we arrive at Mistress Stella's house with a few minutes to spare. Mistress Lyn chooses not to initiate any conversation with me during the journey, and I dutifully remain silent. The other Fillies are already there and after a brief greeting, we are herded into the room to receive our punishment from The Manor's overseers. Despite accumulating twelve penalty points, mine isn't the worst penalty this week. Both Pink and Yellow have accumulated fifteen penalty points apiece albeit for different reasons. Like me, Yellow was detained in the dungeon for a long spell and she was half-an-hour late in taking a break. Pink spilt a tray of drinks and made matters worse by falling over a member in her attempt to minimise the damage.
The overseers are dressed in black like last week and proceed to distribute the punishments we have earned. This week I must wear heavier weights on my nipples, but for only an hour. Like the cane strokes I received earlier, the pain of the punishment is much severer than I've endured previously. But I steadfastly refuse to use my safe-word. However Pink has reached her limit. Half way through her punishment she uses her safe-word. Her punishment stops immediately and she is escorted from the room. I don't see her again that night, and I presume that her boyfriend-minder has taken her home. While Mistress Lyn explained the use of a safe-word when I first agreed to be under her thrall, she never explained what happens afterwards. Would Pink still be allowed to be a Filly? I recall that Mistress Lyn said that unless the prior week's penalty points are settled by the chosen punishment, then the Filly would not be on the following week's roster.
Once we join the minders in the other room, I ask the other Fillies about what will happen to Pink. Unfortunately none of them know any more than I do and we are reduced to speculation. The incident with Pink dominates our discussion. I don't have time to mention my recovered memories of last week's conversation before we are again subjected to the effects of the wand.
Mistress Lyn takes me home and I take another shower to help sooth my tender nipples and arse. I am pleased to find my recovered memories of the previous week's conversation with the other Fillies is intact, as is my discovery of suppressed memories when I saw Sunnybridge yesterday. But tonight's memories are hazy. I recall Pink leaving early, but after that I can't remember what was discussed. If the wand is affecting my mind, then it only seems to impact on very recent thoughts.
The rest of the week is a repeat of my Monday afternoon session with Mistress Lyn. Extremely harsh punishments for the most trivial of mistakes push my resolve to the limit. However Tom's lustful reaction to the sight of my abused arse helps steady my determination not to give up on the whole experience. Am I slipping into a depraved and perverted lifestyle? Absolutely. But I am so addicted to it, I could never willingly give it up.
On Friday afternoon, Mistress Lyn tells me that I am to do extra hours at The Manor tomorrow. Apparently Pink is unavailable and there will only be seven Fillies on duty. I am not allowed any say in the matter, and I'm told I will be starting duty at three-thirty in the afternoon. Apparently I'm to work through until three o'clock on Sunday morning.
Chapter 27
Mistress Lyn collects me a two o'clock on Saturday afternoon, and drives me to The Manor. By now she no longer treats me as her friend, but as her slave. I notice Tom has started doing likewise, and I wonder whether he is taking instructions from her. They haven't had sex in front of me since last Sunday, but there have been plenty of times during the day when they could be meeting and engaging in sex. Tom doesn't hide his feelings for Mistress Lyn, and I'm too addicted to my new lifestyle to be unduly worried about his infidelity. If anything, it eases my mind at the prospect of being coerced into allowing members of The Manor to fuck me.
Mistress Stella is on duty in the changing room, and she soon has me dressed and bound in my outfit. I see Blue and Green while I wait to start duty, but as always, we are unable to speak to each other. I'm never told where I am to carry out my duty until the last minute when the overseer commands me to go to a particular location. After the last couple of weeks, I'm feeling a lot more confident about my ability to cope with whatever is demanded of me. By now I have seen or visited most locations inside The Manor, so I am no longer worried about being sent to an unknown location. The prospect of having to have sex with multiple members is something I feel ambivalent about. I don't actively seek group sex, but a gang bang doesn't scare me as much as it perhaps should.
"Red. You are on-duty. Report to the main bar."
It looks like my first stint on duty will be in the main lounge. I do as I'm bid, and for the next two hours I serve drink and food to members who invariably take the opportunity to grope me and, on two occasions, bring me to an orgasm. Of course, I am almost permanently aroused during my work and it takes very little effort to bring me to an orgasm. Nevertheless, I'm grateful to the members who take the time to tip me over that blissful edge, and to be given a handsome tip is doubly rewarding.
As the night progresses, I am sent upstairs more than once. The rooms I am sent to are fitted out as bedrooms, although I doubt anyone sleeps in the beds. The furniture and fittings are designed for having sex, and more than once I participate in a couple's games. I get groped, spanked, and whipped as well as fucked in my two available holes. The whole experience is driving me deeper into this perverted lifestyle. If anyone were to suggest that I start work as a prostitute, I doubt I, or anyone else, would notice a difference. Is that what I now am? A prostitute? The stigma of the name doesn't disgust me, since in reality that is the type of work I am doing here. Only the absence of a pre-agreed price for sex makes the difference in the label.
During my final stint at one am, I spend an hour in the dungeon being tormented with a whip and made to move about the dungeon hauling heavy weights. My latex body suit dulls the sting of the whip, but the heavy weight I must haul by a chain from my waist tests my stamina beyond what I previously thought I could manage. I receive a generous reward, and by the end of the night I've earned nearly five hundred dollars in tips.
