Friday Rituals: Part III

I drove to her address. The address turned out to be downtown, not in the ghetto, but in a-less-than-nice part of town. I found it, a narrow row house, with black iron doors and red brick. I parallel parked, and paid the meter for two hours. I didn’t plan on a two hour session - my budget couldn’t handle it – but I didn’t want to take any chances on getting towed either.
I rang the doorbell. And waited.

A red head in a black shirtdress answered the door.

“Lady Madonna is waiting for you. Please enter.”

I walked in. I didn’t know what to expect, and a new person in the scenario threw me off.

“My name is Lysistrata. I handle Lady Madonna’s administrative matters. Payment first, please.”

I handed her my bankcard. Lysistrata walked into a narrow office and efficiently zipped it through the credit card machine, and quickly the receipt printed out. She handed it to me, and I obediently signed it.

She motioned for me to follow her down a narrow hallway, and I followed her, focused on her incredibly high stilettos.

Lysistrata pointed to a room on the right. “Here is a changing room. Take off your clothes, and wait for me.”

I walked into the room, and stared around me. The walls were ivory on the top half, mahogany chair rails, and then burgundy on the bottom half. A burgundy chaise lounge was in the middle, and a mahogany bench was against the wall, with hangers and hooks for hanging clothes. There were no decorations otherwise.

I sat on the chaise lounge, collecting my nerve. I couldn’t believe I was following through with this. I took a deep breath, and began taking off my clothing. I hung up my shirt and skirt, and stood in my heels and stockings. Lysistrata had said to take off my clothing.

I took off the rest for fear of repercussions.

A light knock on the door, and Lysistrata came in. It was as if she knew I was nude at that moment. She carried something white in her hands.

“Here. This is for you, for today’s session. I’ll be waiting outside the door when you are finished.”

She handed me the white material, and closed the door.

I shook it out, and wrinkled my brow in confusion. It was a white apron. Not a full chef’s apron, but a small waist-only type. The kind you see in corny films, or part of corny French maid outfits. There was nothing else.

What in the hell is going on here? I remember thinking. I stood there incensed. For

$200, I didn’t come here to play maid.

A light knock again, and Lysistrata poked her head, a most serious expression on her face. “Lady Madonna is quite serious. I advise you to hurry.”

The door shut again.

I put it on, and tied it in a bow tie behind my back. My nipples were slightly hard from the chill in the room, and having hardly anything on.

I opened the door, and walked out. Lysistrata walked down the hallway, barely acknowledging my presence or my attire.

We walked into a small kitchen area. There stood Lady Madonna. Her hair was in the same tight bun as before. But this time, there was no pin-striped suit. She was in a black leather thong, and thigh-high leather boots. She had on long black leather gloves, and in one hand was a riding crop. Her breasts were incredible. They weren’t huge, but well-rounded, with eraser-head nipples.

I stepped out into the middle of the kitchen floor, and stood barefoot on the cold tile floor.

“Good afternoon, Sarah.”

“Good afternoon, Lady Madonna.”

“First things first. Today begins your training. You will stand at what is known as the position of parade rest when you are not performing tasks for me. Lysistrata, demonstrate.”

Lysistrata stepped forward, stood with her feet shoulder width apart, and her hands were behind her back. Lady Madonna motioned me to walk around so I could observe Lysistrata from all angles. Her hands her placed against each other flat against the back, palms outward. The elbows were nearly parallel to the floor. Lysistrata merely looked straight ahead, motionless.

“This is your submissive position. Anything less will result in punishment. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Lady Madonna.”

“First time infractions result in one lashing from my crop. Subsequent infractions will result in punishments at my humor. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Lady Madonna.”

“Now, at our meeting last week, you failed to end an answer with ‘Lady Madonna’. Is my memory correct?”

Holy shit. She didn’t forget.

“Y-yes, Lady Madonna.”

“Please bend over the kitchen table then.” She pointed toward the round café table to the right side of the kitchen.

I turned and slowly walked to the café table. My knees were trembling. I had no idea how this was going to feel. I had nothing on my ass.

“Quickly. Don’t test my humor yet!”

I reached the table and bent over it.

“Now. Whenever you are directed to bend over to receive a lashing, you will arch your back, and keep your feet shoulder-width apart. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Lady Madonna.”

I looked at the ivory colored walls in the kitchen, bracing myself. My back arched, and my feet were spread. I was exposed.

The leather pad at the end of the riding crop lightly rubbed on my pussy lips. I flinched from the surprise of the light touch.

WHACK!

My breath drew in audibly as pain rose across one cheek.

“That’s for not keeping your back arched.”

WHACK!

There was now a stinging welt on the other cheek to match. My breath was rapid, and my hands clenched the edge of the table.

“That’s for forgetting ‘Lady Madonna’ last week. Now get in your position.”

I quickly stood up. I imitated the position of parade rest as best as I could. Lady Madonna’s boot spread my bare feet a little more. She interlocked my thumbs, and I was ready.

“Lysistrata, the bucket please.”

Bucket? What bucket?

Lysistrata quickly disappeared, her stilettos clacking on the wooden floor down the hallway. I heard the steps coming back. Lysistrata went to the sink, and filled a mop bucket with hot water. I could see the steam.

Lysistrata retrieved a pair of rubber gloves and a sponge from under the sink, brought everything and placed it in front of me. She disappeared down the wooden hallway, heels clacking again.

“Your training begins now. You will learn that you are my slave. You will do what I tell you, when I tell you, with no question. Not even in your mind. For the next 30 minutes, you will get on your hands and knees, and scrub my kitchen floor. While mopping, you will keep your back arched, and your knees shoulder-width apart. You will not miss an inch. I will monitor you the entire time. Is that clear, Sarah?”

“Yes, Lady Madonna.”

My mind was reeling. I’d never hand-mopped any floor – not my mother’s, not mine, and here I was about to mop this stranger’s. On my dime, to make it worse.

“Start in the corner by the kitchen sink.” Her crop gave me a light tap on my ass to get me moving.

I picked up my bucket, sponge, and gloves, and carried them to the corner where the kitchen sink met the cabinets. I put on the gloves, and I could hear Lady Madonna’s boot tapping on the kitchen tile.

I got on my knees. I didn’t understand what this had to do with being submissive.

WHACK!

I jerked in surprise.

“Arch your back, and get to scrubbing! You’re too slow. You have 29 minutes.”

I began scrubbing the floor. I realized quickly it’s difficult to maintain an arched back and spread knees while trying to concentrate on scrubbing every inch of the floor. At first my knees didn’t hurt, but after a few minutes, the aching began.

WHACK!

“Your back! I want to see your pussy at all times!”

I arched my back, and continued scrubbing. The riding crop flickered lightly on my pussy again. I drew in my breath and held it, not knowing what was coming next.

“Afraid to breathe? Good. That means you don’t know what’s coming, and that means you aren’t in control. This is my world. I’m in control. I own you when you walk through those doors.”

WHACK!

I scrubbed furiously. I had reached the other end of the kitchen, which I gauged to measure 10 feet across. I began my next row of circular scrubbing moving back to the right side of the kitchen.

“I like how your breasts sway when your scrub,” she said as she rubbed my right nipple with the riding crop.

“News flash, Sarah, your ass isn’t the only part that can receive lashes.”

My whole body flushed at this revelation.

I heard her boots following pacing around me as I scrubbed. Her riding crop made teasing circles on my back my ass, the bottoms of my feet.

When I began making my way across to the right side of the kitchen again, her boot stopped my hand.

“Halt!”

I looked up in consternation. Beads of sweat trickled down my face. Tension, scrubbing and excitement were causing my body to react heatedly.

Lady Madonna knelt down in front of me. One knee was in slightly in front, one leg out to her left. It gave me a view of her thong and what filled it. Her breasts were right in front of me.
“Have you ever smelled a woman, Sarah? Have you ever smelled the essence of a woman’s pussy?”

“N-no, Lady Madonna,” I stammered.

“Get up on your knees, hands behind your back.”

I got up on my knees, sharp needles of pain shooting through my kneecaps. When my hands were behind my back, she stood up, and got right in front of my face. With her riding crop she tilted my face up to her.

“I want to you to rub your face on my pussy. Smell the leather. Smell my perfume, smell my essence. This is what a woman smells like.”

I hesitantly placed my face against her leather thong.

WHACK!

“Firmly, but do not use your mouth on me. Use your nose to rub against me. Smell me. Be honored that you are smelling my pussy.”

I did as she ordered. The smell of leather was intoxicating. And beneath the leather smell, I could smell her. I closed my eyes, and drew in her scent. I could feel the folds of her lips beneath her thong, and longed to take my tongue and…

WHACK!
Goddamn, she was vicious with that crop! But it also made me wet.

And as I rubbed my face on her thong, I looked up at her, taking in the sight of her breasts above me, the hard nipples standing at attention like two well-trained soldiers.

“Back to scrubbing. You’ve had your reward!”

Elated at being so close to her pussy, the smell of leather still in my nose, I went back to scrubbing. I worked at remembering to keep my back arched, my knees spread apart – by now I didn’t know if I’d ever walk normally again the way my knees ached.

In my revery, I didn’t hear her boot approach me from the left.

WHACK! “Stop!”

I looked up, startled.

“You missed a spot. Here-“ and Lady Madonna pointed with her crop at the toe of her boot.

I was confused.

“Here – lick my boot. My boot is not clean, and you will clean it with your tongue.”

I looked up at her like she was crazy. I had heard of boot licking, but I thought was a corny story.

“Do you think I’m kidding?” she asked icily.

“Lysistrata! The tail!”

I heard the heels click-clacking down the hallway, and a door open.

Lady Madonna ordered me to stand.

I stood as quickly as I could, considering the pain my knees were in.

“Bend over the kitchen table, and spread your legs apart.”

The heels click-clacked toward the kitchen again.

“Thank you, Lysistrata. Please stand by. Now, Sarah, you obviously thought I was kidding when I ordered you to lick my boot. I was not. Your next punishment is at my discretion. You will see what it is like to have a tail. Lysistrata, please assist.”

A small drawer was opened from the café table, and a set of Velcro restraints on ropes was taken out.

Lysistrata held my wrists, while Lady Madonna attached a rope to each leg, and then fastened the Velcro around my wrists.

Lysistrata then brought the “tail”- a fairly small black dildo with a long black fringe hanging from one end. She had a bottle of lubricant in one hand.

Lady Madonna massaged my ass cheeks, chiding, “Oh my, you just didn’t know what I would do today, did you, Sarah? Feel me now.”

As she spoke, Lysistrata spread my cheeks, and I could hear the squirt of the lube on the dildo. I’d never had anal sex, and I was totally frozen in fear.

I felt the head slowly making its way in, and Lady Madonna’s voice soothingly cooed, “Breathe deeply. Relax. My, Lysistrata, we have a virgin.”

Slowly the dildo was worked into my anus, Lysistrata keeping a tight hold of my cheeks. I had had fantasies about being taken and used for others’ pleasure, but never did I believe I’d derive my own perverse pleasure from being so coldly invaded.

Finally the dildo was in, and my labored breathing told Lady Madonna I had taken it all in and had reached a height of excitement never before reached.

“What a lovely ass! I’m going to enjoy abusing this ass! The next time you hear the phrase ‘Your ass is mine’, it will have a whole new meaning, won’t it, Sarah?”

“Yes, Lady Madonna!” I nearly shouted in pain and excitement.

“Now, get on your knees, and lick my boot, Sarah!”

Lysistrata released the Velcro, and I knelt on my knees in front of Lady Madonna. I started at her toe, licking her boot in circles the way I had scrubbed the floor in circles. The riding crop made light circles on my ass again. I was nearly dizzy with the heat. I worked my way up her boot.

“Good girl…ooooh, my how you can lick a boot when encouraged!” Lady Madonna purred.

“Lady Madonna, it’s time,” I heard Lysistrata state quietly.

“Sarah, you have 20 minutes. You may follow Lysistrata back to the changing room, and use the time however you wish. I assume you’ll make another appointment on your way out the door.”

With a turn, Lady Madonna walked out of the kitchen, down the hallway, and I could hear her going up the staircase.

I gingerly followed Lysistrata, with the dildo still inside of me.

* * *

When I entered the changing room there were some new additions. On the chaise lounged lay several towels, and several dildos of varying sizes. The intent was clear, and I needed no further prodding.

I spread out one towel, and picked up a vibrator with a rabbit. Lying back, I inserted the rabbit vibrator, and adjusted the speed for midway. Pressing the ears of the rabbit just under my clit, I closed my eyes, and thought about pressing my face against the pussy of Lady Madonna, this time with no thong, the crop dangerously near in case I didn’t make her cum.

I’m sure Lady Madonna and Lysistrata could hear my vocal expressions of release a few minutes later. They seemed to go on forever, as my orgasm shook my body for what seemed an eternity.

* * *

Ten minutes later, I opened the door, fully dressed. Lysistrata was there, with Latex gloves and a plastic bin. She held it out, waiting for the black dildo and the rabbit vibrator. I placed them in the bin, feeling somewhat embarrassed.

“It’s ok-it’s very normal actually. That’s why we provide them.”

She placed both items in a red plastic bag for disposal. “We are safe here.”

I followed her back down to the narrow office. “Two Friday’s from today?” she asked, again in efficiency mode.

“Yes. Absolutely.”

I walked out the door to my car. My knees were aching, and still trembling from the past hour.