Adult-FanFiction.org : Buffy

Diary Of A Dominatrix	By : CindyShrapnel Category: BtVS AU/AR > FemmeSlash - Female/Female > Buffy/Faith Views: 12486 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own BtVS nor any characters. No money is made from this fic.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
(Additional tags/warnings -3plus, anal, bdsm, bi, cbt, contro, d/s, dom, exhib, fet, f/f, fingering, fist, gb, humil, m/m, oral, rim, S&M, slave, si, tort, toys, trans, spank, voy, w/s, xv, etc.)
CHAPTER ONE

“I expect that kind of behaviour from some of my more slovenly students but NOT from my staff, do you understand me Miss Summers?", said the stern voice of a woman whose power was etched into every carefully clipped word of derision.
CRACK!
The first blow came down hard across Buffy's back as she writhed in pain until another and another struck her toned figure, even the tips had snaked around to sting her breasts. The blond haired vassal shook as her skin rose to a patchy scarlet hue. Each stroke of the twenty lashed her viciously with the last few aimed directly at her pussy. Her clit had become aroused at her submission and throbbed at the flagellation of her nether regions.
Miss Summers was now breathing heavily through her nostrils as she felt an expected, but not unwanted, lust coarse through her system firing up her endorphins as Miss Lehane circled Buffy like a shark smelling blood in the water, the soft rippling of her knee length black satin skirt danced through the heavy atmosphere.
Buffy jerked forward as the thin rattan cane tore through the air, almost claustrophobic with it’s thick eroticism, until it met it’s target, the swoosh ending with a satisfying thwack of vermillion skin turning darker with each stroke. Her ample breasts, curvaceous and sheened with sweat, jiggled with every lash at her skin.
Her lithe arms tugged helplessly on the leather wrist cuffs where the shining padlocks which sealed each one on shimmied in the stark light of the room. The chain that held her arms taut above her tinkled gently with each furtive tug caused by the pain that tore through her making her wetter by the second. Her clit filling with blood and ready to burst as the time wore on eroding any restraint she still had over herself.
Fiery tears brimming her eyes stayed shallow no more as they burst their mascaraed banks and ran freely down her cheeks as she struggled in her immobile state.
“Do you understand me Miss Summers?”, came the stern voice accompanied by the sharp clack of five inch heels on the glossy wooden flooring.
“Mmmppfff”, Buffy wheezed out around her rubber ball gag as her pussy clenched tighter but with her legs spread wide by the chrome spreader bar between her ankle cuffs, also padlocked on, she could nothing but feel the delicious vaginal dew drool down her well tanned thighs. Each crystal droplet mingling with her well earned sweat and clinging with a delicious determination to her skin.
“Well that’s not good enough my girl”, the dominant brunette whispered with a sliver of intimidation as she hooked a pvc clad finger through the d-ring on the thick dog collar buckled around the blonde girls neck and pulled her sobbing face closer.
“I think you need to learn a real lesson here you filthy little slut”, Miss Lehane said with a malevolent purr as she took a step backwards.
Twisting the forceps on Buffy’s nipples a little further, the smartly dresses brunette grinned as the slight blonde girl whined in a high pitch, as she tried to keeping her chuckles at bay.
She rounded Buffy dragging her leather clad fingers across her captive’s smooth, supple body causing the smaller woman to flinch. Miss Lehane chuckled as she stood behind the tied and muted woman and picked up a cat-o-nine tails, it’s twisted leather tendrils having seen much action and introduced to the back and thighs of Buffy within minutes of her being shackled.
Miss Lehane removed the surgical style forceps and tugged on Buffy’s nipples, breathing life back into the sore teats. The brunette took a lipstick, one of her signatures deep shades of red and drew a circle around each of Buffy's nipples as a target. Backing across the room until she had reached an appropriate distance flexing the bullwhip she had in her hands that creaked with anticipation.
After a couple of practice shots she lashed the whip at Buffy. It cracked against her stomach making the blond fire out a high pitched gasp strangled by the growing pleasure her pussy was registering.
"Ooops, sorry Miss Summers. I must be a little out of practice", Miss Lehane said with her customary smirk enjoying every second of it as she took a quick look at the clock.
A second crack lashed rigidly standing Buffy's nipple. It pulsated as her nerve ending felt electrified at this unknown deviancy. She wasn’t surprised at how turned on she was and as the pain began to die she could feel her lady broth dribble down her legs.
Another lash to her other nipple made Buffy's body buckle as tears continued to run down to her full glossy lips from which no sound escaped, through misted eyes she stared at Miss Lehane who was straightening out the sharp points of her cravat which sat proudly upon the blood red satin blouse that hugged the brunette’s skin with an enticing fluidity.
Miss Lehane coolly walked up to her suffering toy, her heels clashing on the floor with a foreboding presence, and softly stroked the throbbing titties of her captive.
"Quiet, you snivelling little slut, once you’ve learned that behaviour like this will NOT be tolerated at this school, then I may forgive you", said the taller woman as she received a simpering glance.
Miss Lehane’s pvc clad hand slid up her captive's thighs cupping her moistening clit and smiling.
"Now you know you want this…..you know you’re a dirty slut at heart, don’t you Miss Summers"
Despite her deep down faux repulsion of what her soul truly felt, Buffy found herself trying to grind against the offered hand as she descended into pleasure.
"Come on you bad, bad girl, feel it....beg me for it", Miss Lehane continued as she removed Buffy's ball gag.
“Fuuucck...I...I...oooohhh, shiiiiiiittttt..." she hissed as lust tore through her body.
The Mistress of the hour carried on rubbing Buffy until she was nothing but goo in the hands of her leather clad owner.
"Beg me for it", the stern commandant of the clitoris said with a raspy encouraging voice made thicker and more hoarse through years of cheap cigarettes.
Buffy tried to resist but being so helpless, so at the mercy of this stronger woman, she could sense herself slipping into total abandon.
"Come on Miss Summers.....beg!"
"P-p-please, I want to c-c-cum....please oh shiitt, I want it....soooo...bad" she forced out through her ragged breath but Miss Lehane pulled away slightly, much to her slave's chagrin.
Miss Lehane took one of Buffy's bruised nipples and twisted it angrily causing her to squeal with a mixture of pain and want.
"Who do you belong to Miss Summers? Who do you want to make you cum", the brunette snarled as she continued to squeeze the engorged teat which creaked with each movement of the slick elbow length glove.
“I-I..I..want", she tried but was rewarded by another wrench of the nipple.
"Try again slut!"
"I..I..I want you...M-M-Miss?" she quizzed hoping the answer was right as she so badly wanted release.
"That's better bitch", Miss Lehane replied as she let go of her aching nipple and slid her fingers into Buffy's drooling pussy.
The blondes eyes shot open at this sensual pleasure as her owner continued to pump her slick digits in and out of her slave.
Once her new property was ready to pop, Miss Lehane withdrew as Buffy whimpered at her frustration. It was not for long as the smokey eyed domme just wanted to tease, she rubbed against her pet’s salivating groin for a little before plunging deep into her needy cunt once more.
Pressing her breasts close to Buffy's she hissed into her face, "Beg me you naughty girl!"
"P-p-please M..M..Miss Lehane, I want to cuuuuuum!"
The assertive brunette slid her strong fingers past Buffy's lower lips and thrust further into her. The smaller girl moaned in ecstasy as her walls contracted around these solid intruders hoping to get as much contact with as possible. She was succumbing to Miss Lehane's will and now, in this compelling and desperate moment, it felt so right.
"Ask me properly!" came the lascivious command.
"M-Misssss Lehane I...I..oooh, ahhhh, AHHHHH, y..y..your bitch wants to cum...please Missss....I humbly beg you....to....AHHHHH"
She pumped her hand into her over and over until her knuckles were now deep in her slave, thrusting with more force each time until Buffy's eyes glassed over as her mind severed itself from sense and plunged headlong into carnal gratification.
Faith could see that her new pet was about to unleash her vaginal torrent so asked one question more which would seal her submission.
"Who are you?"
"I-I-I'm your bitch Missss...I...I..ahhhh, I....ohhhhh...I-I..please…." she shouted as she clenched around the pvc clad fingers which teased her pussy without mercy before once more sliding back out with a soft squelch.
“Oh no Miss Summers, only good girls get to cum and you are a bad, bad girl…now I think you still need a good caning on your thighs too", Faith said softly holding back a chuckle.
“Parakeet”
“What?”
“No, pineapple…..oh p-p-pumpkin….pumpkin”, breathed out Buffy heavily as she slumped down in her shackles.
“Shh-shh, good girl”, soothed Faith as,now Buffy had uttered the safety word, the game was over and the money well earned.
Miss Lehane had ceased to be, trapped within the confines of the weekly session with the blonde where Miss Summers would gladly take her punishment. Faith rubbed Buffy’s skin back to life and reassured her aching client which is what any professional dominatrix who took pride in her work should do at the end of a session.
As the cuffs unlocked Buffy took a moment to steady herself.
“Now go and clean up your make up”, said Faith as she could finally relax, her last client of a very long day had taken a lot out of her but she was a professional and what her client’s wanted she was more than happy to perform. But today had been the longest of days.
Buffy minced over to the long mirror and picked up a couple of pre-moistened tissues, turning her back to it so she could check out the red burning canvas that was her ass. Faith usually wouldn’t let her toys cum but she had a soft spot for Buffy and so would let her hunger for sapphic nectar be sated….if she took her punishment well that is.
“Miss Summers, come here”, Faith snapped as she quickly slid back into the domme role of Miss Lehane, the cane wielding Principal of the school where Buffy worked as a counsellor. Or would be if Buffy had her way.
Buffy sniffled as she came back over as Faith slapped her face. Not with the sadistic force of a cruel bitch but the firm scolding slap you would give to your dog after he had eaten your last pack of Lucky Strikes, something Faith had become accustomed to of late.
“What do you think you were doing?”,
“I-I was just checking out my ass, Miss”
“Did I tell you to?”
“N-no Miss”
SLAP!
“That’s right I didn’t, now get down there and show me you’re sorry”, Faith said with a curling, mischievous eyebrow as Buffy watched the tapping foot that seemed to pour out from the sheer nylons.
“Yes Miss, right away Miss”, replied Buffy
Buffy caught herself in her actions and her lip began to tremble, she fell to her knees and began to kiss and lick Faith's knee high leather boots as she tried desperately not to finger herself to climax right there, though the threat of further punishment made her giddy. Long wet strokes up and down the footwear of choice, footwear that Buffy always asked her domme to wear during their games.
Looking down Faith saw her boots now gleaming and a certain fervour to the blonde girl’s slow loving licks of her narrow tongue.
“Ok that’ll do girl, well despite your bad behaviour I’m going to let you cum, so you may get yourself off in the shower”, Faith nodded to the clean towels on the shelf.
“Yes Miss, thankyou Miss”, said Buffy gleefully as she stepped away, her ass burning, but still turned on by her Mistress of the hour.
As Buffy slinked out of view Faith casually deadheaded the flowers that caught and shimmered in the early morning sun flooding through the blinds in neat horizontal flaring lines, they were a gift from a client though she couldn't remember which one. She appreciated the gifts from any of them, but from the women they always seemed like less of a gesture to keep on her right side and more of a gift to show their thoughtfulness and appreciation for allowing them to unleash their secret desires.
Faith pulled off her sticky gloves and threw them to one side in the pile of soiled accoutrements her slave girl would be made to clean up later. As she rubbed her temples and unbuttoned her cuffs Faith slouched back in the chair and heard the water running in the adjacent room, she knew it wouldn’t be long now before she would hear the throes of ecstasy wrack Buffy’s body.
As the hot water cascaded down Buffy’s body she hissed, it electrified her senses and her head snapped back as her small supple fingers slipped around her aching and bullet hard nipples. Her breathing heavy and her pulse thundering, Buffy slipped her fingers into her moist crevice tickling her grasping walls.
She gasped as the water splashed down upon her, it’s warmth made her shiver as her digits slipped in and out, pushing further and further as Buffy’s mind fragmented with unrepentant bliss. It scoured through her veins like they were filled with burning shards of glass, her clit throbbed as her thumb flicked it’s majestic hood. It felt as if the breath of dormant gods seeped into her heart, a lustrous wave of tormented pleasure rode her wincing frame until her cream fired out like a shotgun blast. Her eyes rolled back as her promised orgasm shot through her system making her weep with both joy and sorrow, for though she had gained her weekly fix of much needed alternative sexual roleplay, it would mean she would be counting down each agonizing second until she was once more shackled and punished by Faith.
The Bostonian held her cellphone to her ear after removing the dangling earring she loathed, but it went so well with her outfit. The accessories were always a defining touch in any scenario and Faith prided herself on her attention to detail.
“Hey…no I’ll be back in thirty minutes….how is he….nah,let him sleep….yeah, use the scented bubble bath and get that really fluffy towel ready….no, I’ll see when I get back”, Faith said as she hung up and searched for her smokes amidst the growing debris.
She looked over her new business cards and sighed, the words in red italics on a black background read “Mistress Fath, pro domme, your pain is my pleasure. Call 555- WHIP”. Shaking her head at the obvious spelling mistake, Faith threw them back into the pile and inhaled deeply from her cigarette, grey coils escaping her nostrils and hanging in the blaze of sun that leaked through into the playroom.
Buffy walked back in all lemony fresh and satisfied. Drained from her session but feeling so good from her core out, as she removed her clothes from the closet at the back of the room she saw the look on the face of Faith.
“Are you ok Miss?”
“We’re off the clock now B, you can call me Faith y’know”, said the brunette as she unzipped her pvc corset, unclipped the cravat and was so relieved to finally end her day as she popped open the top three buttons of her blouse.
“Ok, sure…. Faith”, the blonde smiled back as she wiped her make up off and slipped her plain cotton underwear back over her aching, but thoroughly satisfied, body.
“So how come you let this shit go on so long, usually you beg after the forceps, did you need an extra something?”
“I did, I was begging you”
“You do that all the time, it’s part of the game. And what was that parakeet thing all about?”, said Faith as thick clouds of smoke slid from her glossy lips.
“No, I-I forgot the safety word”, Buffy blushed as her bra clipped into place.
“Fucks sake B, you know the drill. If you forget the safety word you just say ‘time out’’ and we take a breather.”
“Sorry”
“No harm done…except to your ass”, Faith chuckled as she rolled down her clinging nylons, “You sure you can drive home ok?”
“I-I’ll be fine”
“Just make sure you get some lotion on that, so how are things at the school? Have you told that girl how you feel yet….what was her name?”, asked Faith casually, she secretly preferred this part of the business as she too was drained from each session. Her clients took so much of her energy and focus that it sapped all her strength, her desire for kink waning each time.
“Her name is Dawn, and no it’s not like I can tell her can I? She’s only sixteen and I’m the school’s counsellor, how can I possibly say that I want her to use her school tie and bind me to the desk as she canes my ass and I beg her to fuck me”, Buffy whined as she slipped her heels back on. Her secret crush on one the students where she worked was killing her softly, infusing her dreams with an unrequited desire.
“It’s only a job B, can you really put a price on love?”
“I-I don’t know if it’s love or just lust. But Westward Academy is full of rich spoiled kids with equally snotty parents, if I even mentioned it I’d be fired, end up in jail or at least on a register somewhere”, snapped back Buffy with a hint of desperation knowing that her fantasies were only to come true here.
With Faith.
For a price, talking of which.
“Here”, she said as she handed Faith a well stuffed envelope. Both discreet client and IRS hating dominatrix’s preferred it this way.
The wobbly ashtray Faith made in fourth grade now held her black papered cigarette, it’s silver wisps rising through the air and ricocheting off the leather crosses and assorted paddles that still held the sweat of the days clients.
Buffy was addicted to this now, she had been since her first unsure session eleven months earlier, she needed the freedom. She hated having to wear the tailored suits and well pressed blouses being at such a prestigious school demanded so being free of the shackles of smart clothing but being trapped by the shackles of chrome steel, this was her passion.
Faith flicked through the stack of bills and frowned.
“Er, B…you’re a little short here”
“I-I know, I-I’m sorry but it’s been tight lately, money wise, but I’ll make up for it next time. I promise”
“It’s ok”, Faith sighed as she just wanted this day to end and to get back home, monetary quibbles were low on her list of priorities, “I’ll let it slide this time, so same time next week?”
“I can’t, Riley is back in town tomorrow….. so I have be careful”, said Buffy mournfully as she lived for these sessions, her break from the mundanity that was her life.
“I see, I understand B. I really do”, replied Faith. From what had been said from previous post session conversations, it seemed that Buffy has gotten pregnant while just seventeen, a quick marriage later, a miscarriage on their honeymoon, and now Buffy was trapped in a loveless sham of a marriage, and lusted after a girl from the private school on the outskirts of town.
“Ok then, bye Faith…and thanks”, said Buffy with a soft smile as she left. Her body was sore and her fantasies fulfilled, this should hold her for a while as sleeping with Riley was as awful as it was unsatisfactory.
Faith wrote down a few notes next to Buffy’s name in ‘The Book’ and put it in her safe alongside her first pressing of ‘How Could Hell Be Any Worse’ and the signed Roger Clemens baseball card. The day had been made even longer as with her loyal slave girl watching Faith’s ill dog, she and Kendra had to man the phones and sort the money themselves.
Walking out to the lobby Faith saw Kendra, dressed like she was fresh from a court room appearance, readying a few toys or varying lengths and thickness, double checking the amount of Sliquid they had.
“Thanks for doing this Ken, I usually like to play with Harmony myself but…”, Faith asked as she fished around in her purse.
“No, don’t apologise sweetie. Sure it’s annoying having to wait but she pays extra”
“You make sure she does, ah-ha, gotcha you fuckers”, Faith exclaimed as she finally found her keys.
“So you going out tonight, party hardy girl?”
“Nah, I’m tired. I just want to have a quiet one”
“Fai, that’s no way to celebrate”, said Kendra with a little sadness.
“Whatever, just make sure not to deadbolt the door, I’ll send Bitch over later to clean up. But don’t use the saddle as I got my 11 am tomorrow”
“Is he still not tired of that game? You think he wouldn’t have time…what with this being an election year”
“Well if ya got the green then enjoy the scene, I always say”
“Oh I forgot, this came for you but you had that English guy in the Wet Room so I signed for it.”, said Kendra she handed her partner in crime a slim silver box wrapped in a turquoise ribbon.
“Ok thanks, Night K”, Faith said as she gave a quick peck on the cheek to her compadre and opened the finely carved oak door of their premises.
“Good night Fai….. and happy birthday”

                     *     *      *     *    *    *
Faith couldn’t wait to get home. Her beloved dog had kept her up most of the previous night and though she was loathe to leave him, business came first and so had gotten her slave girl to look after him. And woe betide the redhead, who had been rechristened ‘Bitch’ in a humiliating ceremony the previous winter, if she hadn’t taken proper care of him as in the hierarchy of their lives Bitch was much lower down than Faith’s dog.
“Fuck your American rights”, Faith sung as she drove home, 7 Seconds blasting from the top-of-the-range speakers while her hair viciously flailed out behind her in her convertible.
She couldn’t wait to get back into her battered old punk t-shirts and loose sweatpants. She rarely wore leather outside of work as it had taken her love of worked cow hide and twisted it into something she could no longer care for, after all , when she worked at Kakistos’ restaurant back in Boston in her junior year, she didn’t wear the uniform outside of work so why should she now. It was an ethos she applied well as she needed a defining line between being Faith, loveable rogue and Smurf enthusiast, and being Mistress Faith, harbinger of dreams and shibari expert.
She moved to this sleepy, near comatose, little burg two years earlier as a town this buttoned down was sure to have a rich vein of kink that needed to be freed. Once her mother had moved her and her brother out to LA she felt more alone than ever, especially when he went off to University. Once Faith, who was heavily into the fetish scene anyway, had finished High School she had been trained as a Mistress, her natural leadership and dominant streak made her a natural. She learned all the psychology behind it all, as it’s not all just whips, canes and desperate-to-impress scenarios, you need to know where and when to strike, how to tease the full reaction from a client so they would become regulars of hers. Using her college tuition fund she bought ‘The Book’ from Sunnydale’s resident domme Mistress Absolute. ‘The Book’ is a list of all the clients that a Mistress has, such a book could be used for blackmail if it fell into the wrong hands, so the privacy of the business was a priority. As Mistress Absolute was leaving the business to get married she sold ‘The Book’ to Faith who, along with her best girl-friend, a Mistress she worked with closely back in LA, named Kendra, came to town to start afresh.
Despite the police investigation of late she had remained tight lipped about the true identity of the Mistress who sold her The Book, especially as that former Mistress was now running for Congress,
She spent all day wearing leather and PVC and so out of hours she just wore her old battered punk rock t shirts held together with safety pins and her comfy old cargo pants. It was her own rebellion against Mistress Faith, someone she was tired of being in truth. Though she still loved her work she wanted something better out of it than just paying bills and affording nice clothes for once, but there was something that still nagged at her soul. Loneliness, sure she had Kendra, her partner in crime, and her best friend, the female-to-male transgender named Anya, who was going by the name Arnie now but she was still alone, no real relationships permeated her life after all you don’t take your work home with you, especially if you’re a mortician.
“Shit!”, she exclaimed as she remembered a certain brunette was coming by tomorrow afternoon and their supplies had run low, seeing a store Faith screeched to a halt outside and went in.
Her heels struck the stained lino as she walked up and down the aisles filling her basket with the essentials, pausing by the bottles of Chablis as after a day like this a glass of fine wine would certainly be the tonic she craved. Shaking her head she put the bottle back and just stuck to her internal shopping list for she knew the price she would have to pay, and it wasn’t monetary.
As the cashier rang up the creams, diapers and home enema kits, the cashier looked at her strangely through her bi-focals held together with a Band Aid across the bridge of the nose.
“They’re for my grandma, she had a stroke so I look after her”, Faith explained casually. She wasn’t embarrassed in anyway about her work or lifestyle but she respected the privacy of her clients above everything and so did all she could not to draw attention to her and them.
“What a good girl you are”, replied the clueless woman in the store as she handed Faith what little change there was from her fifty dollar bill.
Faith got back into her car and drove off again, making sure to keep to the speed limit as she didn’t need another run in with a certain cop. As the old school punk rock left a lo-fi wake behind her car Faith’s mind flickered to memories and thoughts she fought hard to contain.
Working at the low rent restaurant back in LA, little more than a burger joint with a fancy name, she knew and understood the degradation of being under someone else’s control, she knew what it was like to have no power. It was the degradation of being exploited so callously that seared her domme streak to her soul until she quit in a blaze of spilt fries and cracked knuckles.
Faith pulled into her underground parking space and took her bags from the trunk, struggling with the assortment of brown paper bags and the silver box, as she stepped out of the elevator she sneaked past the elegantly painted door desperately trying to avoid it’s effete occupant.
Too late.
Her elderly neighbour put his balding head round the door and wiped the powdered sugar from the first of many of his chins.
“I thought it was you, my dear”, he said jovially as she snuggled his cat in his arms threatening to kick off Faith’s allergies.
“Hi Mr Wirth, how’s things?”, she asked politely not really caring.
“Oh you know, my blood pressure is through the roof and my cholesterol test is showing signs of impending doom but what can you do?”
‘Diet and exercise you fat bastard’, thought Faith to herself not letting her false smile waver.

“Oh Faith, it’s Mr Tinkles birthday on Friday, I do hope you can stop by and say hello,we’d like that wouldn’t we sweetie”, said Mr Wirth to his cat as he held him up an kissed him on the nose. The cat’s eyes as lifeless and clogged with triglycerides as his owners.
“Yeah sure, we’ll see….sorry Sir, but I really have to go”, Faith tried to excuse herself as she wanted nothing more than to soak in the tub and curl up with her dog in front of the dull glow of the TV.
“You know Mrs Cho down in 306 said that the garbage men haven’t been collecting on time, I think we should bring it up at the tenants meeting don’t you think”
‘Sorry, you seemed to have mistaken me for someone who gives a shit,’ Faith thought but just insincerely said.
“Of course”, her façade of interest was crumbling as he waffled on, it was always a gauntlet getting into her apartment without her nosy neighbor boring her.
‘Oh thank fuck’, she thought as she heard her phone ringing.
“Mr Wirth… I have to go, be seeing you”
“Ok see you later Faith, say goodbye Mr Tinkles”, he said as he waved a moggy paw in her direction to which she just snorted a half assed laugh through her nose and opened her door.
“Good evening, Mistress Faith’s residence, no she’s not…oh one moment Sir…Mistress, it’s Master Angel for you”, said the collared girl in her pvc maid’s uniform.
Handing Faith the phone, Willow dropped a little curtsy before stepping back in her knee length glossy boots with the six inch heels. Her uniform slid up to show her PVC Directoire panties, a treat for a fine job Willow had performed trimming her Mistress’ topiary with nail scissors until it was perfectly heart shaped.
Slave, secretary, sex toy, Faith didn’t care for the alliteration Willow had self imposingly stigmatized herself with, a life sentence she had begged Faith to impose on her but even now, after a year of total servitude, she still hadn’t been branded by her brunette owner as the last symbol of her utter control and lifelong devotion to Faith. Though Willow now, as ordered, would only ever respond to the name ‘Bitch’ the redhead still wanted to prove her complete submission even more.
The first time Willow had turned up in uniform, Faith made her stand outside for an hour before being sent away. The next week she had to stand outside for two hours before being soundly caned and once more sent home, it was all a test of her willingness to serve, to show just how much she needed this life of humiliation and unquestioning servitude. She desperately wanted the letter ‘F’ scorched into her alabaster skin to show that she was nothing more than property which is all she wanted from life now, to give her purpose and a reason to breathe and not try yet another sloppy suicide attempt. The scars she bore were a testament to that.
Willow’s parents had told her to come to her senses and give up the one thing she needed to make her feel alive, or get disowned by her family. It wasn’t even a choice, it was the push she needed to ascend, or descend depending on your point of view, into the lifestyle she had been craving since the first savage kicks of puberty. Not an uncommon trait in someone who was starved of love from her parents and needed attention and firm discipline.
Faith didn’t like her work life invading her home but she had no choice, usually Willow slept in the one spartan room at the dungeon, it was better than a guard dog and meant she was always on hand to clean the equipment and attend to inquiries on the phone,
“What?”, Faith snorted into the phone as she threw her bags and the box on the kitchen counter and nodded to Willow to start putting them away.
“Aww Faithy, is that anyway to greet your big bro?”, came the male voice with a hint of annoyance nestled in with the obvious mirth”
“Sorry dude, I got caught again”, she sighed as she flicked her heels across the floor with a clatter.
“Mr Wirth?”
“Yep”
“Still got that stupid cat?”
“You know it, so what’s up?”, Faith said back as she clenched the phone to her ear as she crossed the apartment and into her darkened bedroom where she tenderly stroked the form of her ailing dog who seemed much more spritely. Those pills she got at the all night pharmacy really worked wonders, despite not being technically for a four legged fiend.
“I tried to get you on your cellphone”,
“Yeah, voicemail’s not working”
“So is Slayer ok now?”
“Yeah, he seems to be fine”, replied Faith as she run her fingers through her dogs shiny coat.
“So you opened the box?”, Angel asked.
“The what? Oh hang on…..Bitch!”, she replied as she clicked her fingers motioned her redheaded slave girl to bring the box over.
Kneeling down beside her owner, Willow held out the box as Faith flipped the lid off it showing a sleek satin black dress that would hug her curves with ease.
“It’s nice bro, really fuckin’ nice”
“So go get ready we’re going out”
“Not really in the mood”
“I know you like to mourn your birthday but we insist”
“We?”, asked Faith.
“Yeah, me and Oz, Darla, Anya…I mean Arnie, and maybe Xander if he can get off work early. We’re meeting at Rioffolo’s at eight so get your ass in gear and I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes”
“Are you telling me what to do”?, she snorted back.
“Oh quiet sis, you’re off the clock and trust me, you will look fabulous”, Angel said back as he accented the final word in a fine soprano tone.
“Hang on, you wouldn’t be trying to set me up would ya?”
“Moi? As if”
“’Cos need I remind you about that stupid girl, one more story about her Daddy’s fucking poolhouse and I was ready to throw myself out her fuckin’ window”
“Of a bungalow?”
“Ya know what I mean, she was fucked in the head bro”, said Faith as, with another click of her fingers, Willow came over and lit her cigarette before kneeling by her owner waiting for her glossy red lined mouth to be used as an ashtray.
“How many times do I need to apologise for that, besides Arnie said she’d…I mean, he’d take care of you. You know he has that thing for you”
“I…oh fine”, sighed Faith as she knew her brother wouldn’t let up. Inside she liked receiving the kind attention of Arnie, but still felt no attraction to him despite his fine conduct and scarily white teeth.
“Cool, see you in thirty”, he said as he hung up.
Faith sighed even deeper, not really wanting another night of prying questions and cheap wine with her friends in the real world, she did prefer her work especially after the hardhitting break up with Miranda. So since then Faith had buried herself so far in her work, despite it’s physical and mental toll, and she was finding it hard to let go and just be herself for once.
“Bitch, I’m off out now. Is the bath ready?”
“Yes Mistress”, said the kneeling Willow who wanted to please as she felt the grey sludge forming on her tongue with each tap of the cigarette.
“Good, well it looks like Slayer is out for the count and I don’t have time to take you for a walk tonight, no don’t look like that Bitch. I know how much you enjoy being lead around out there by your leash, just go back to the dungeon and make sure everything is cleaned up after Mistress Kendra’s finished, as a special treat for looking after Slayer I will allow you to lick the paddles clean”
“Yes Mistress, thankyou Mistress”, gushed the redhead as she got to her feet and tottered back to Faith’s place of work, a place where Willow often slept, there or hogtied at the end of her Mistress’ bed.
Faith quickly bathed and dressed putting her made-to-measure black blazer over the top of the stunning new dress, she liked to look smart these days, it was a run off of the power she wallowed in all day. She loved her job though it had been trying of late, she gave people what they needed to function, what they needed to feel alive, but as she did so she was searching for something in them. That spark which could indicate a possible mate, a lover she could call her own but all she got was women wanting to drag her away from their mundane lives and be her slave forever.
But Faith needed more than that, she did that at work and so when at home she wanted an equal, for the most part, but she wanted a submissive lover, someone who would be her bitch in the boudoire but also have the freedom and the strength to speak their mind, abuse was never part of her world and, after the events of her tenth birthday, she swore they never would be again.
As she stared into the vanity touching up her lipstick her eyes flickered down to the card stuck in its frame and smiled as Sunday was creeping closer. She only needed nine more hours and Faith would get her pilot’s license. Ever since her Angel gave her lessons as a birthday present when she fourteen Faith had become hooked, she craved to take to the air, it was her freedom, her fetish to make her feel alive.
Kissing Slayer softly on the head Faith closed the door quietly and stepped out into the cool night air.
Standing outside inhaling deeply from her cigarette she smiled when Angel and Oz pulled up to the kerb. She gave quick kisses to the cheek of her brother and his fiancé and chatted as they drove away to the restaurant.
Seeing the love that flowed between Oz and her brother always cheered Faith’s heart and reignited her desire, her need to find someone of her own. A love that neither paddle nor shackle could tarnish.
           *      *      *      *      *       *      *
Buffy slid the keys into the door and pushed it open with a sigh. She had been idling along the short drive home along the pristine streets of the town but couldn’t put off coming home any longer despite the coldness she felt there from the mix of second hand furniture and clichéd art that hung in the dusty frames on the walls.
“Buffy, there you are”, said the male voice ringing out from the living room making her heart lurch.
“Oh…hi”
Riley came up to her and kissed her, he aimed for her thin lips but she swivelled her head with skill and let the slobbering kiss press into her cheek.
“I wanted to surprise you so I came home early”, he said as he handed Buffy a wilting bunch of flowers, “Where have you been?”
“I was at Mom’s, you know chatting and stuff. It’s a girl thing”, she shrugged and flexed her lips until they became a mere mockery of a smile.
“I see. So seeing at we’re here all alone…how about we go upstairs and…”, Riley said with a wink as he slid off his tie.
“No…I…I have a headache…sorry”, she lied as she watched her husband’s shoulders sag a little in disappointment, “I just want to have a bath and go to bed”
“Fine”, he grunted as his tone shifted to a passive aggressive slant, like a spoilt child not getting his way. He stomped off and grabbed a beer before turning on EPSN, he would sulk like that until Buffy apologised for not being meek enough for him. Something which sickened her each time she did it, not that she didn’t enjoy being submissive, she just hated being ridden over by a man.
Buffy ignored her petulant life partner and simply went upstairs and run her bath. As she carefully folded her grey pinstripe skirt suit and left in on the hamper she felt the tears start to form once more. Sliding into the steaming bath Buffy hissed as the water lapped at her stinging ass, back and nipples but nothing would be able to dam her tears of frustration and loneliness this time.
This was her life, a pathetic joke of a marriage with no love or sexual experimentation, it was a lonely and painful life, worse than any barbed whip or steel rimmed paddle. She wept as she rubbed herself again, she reached over to her jacket and slipped out the page she had ripped from the school yearbook with Dawn’s smiling face in her full uniform. Holding it before her weeping eyes Buffy pressed her lips to the picture and added a second finger to her needy slit.
Buffy bit her lip as she slowly stroked her clit which was once more aching for release, just seeing the soft glow of her secret love captured by a camera had instantly stoked her desire and as her wet fingers probed her folds Buffy lay back and quietly moaned one word. The word which encapsulated all her love.
“Dawn”
          *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *
“Thanks Arnie”, said Faith as she let the artist formally known as Anya take her coat before escorting the brunette over to the table, pulling out her chair giving Faith the chance to smooth out her skirt as she sat down on the plush velvet covered seat.
“You seem tired Faith”, said Arnie with genuine concern as he straightened his tie and tried to make his narrow shoulders seem a little wider in the well cut man’s suit which had fast become his calling card. One would very seldom the former woman without the finest in men’s fashions draped on his medically altering body.
“Yeah, but y’know how it is”, Faith shrugged back regretting her choice to come out.
Looking at Arnie she took in every facet of his dress, from the highly gleaming shoes to the inch long hair neatly combed on his head. Faith could see the outline under his shirt where his breasts were taped down in order to try to show a more masculine figure but she knew how it must hurt him to be like this, not just physically. The brunette was well aware of how Arnie felt about her but Faith was adamant that they would only be friends, though she did love being in his company as Arnie had all the manners of a gentleman but all the softness of a woman, despite the few tufts of hair his chin now sported due to the increased amount of testosterone he was injecting now.
But Arnie would always treat any woman he came across as a princess, he had the intuition of his old female persona incorporated into this new vision of himself and so knew how a lady should be treated. Faith sighed a little as Arnie was everything one could want in a partner but now he identified himself as being a heterosexual male Faith wished, ever so briefly, that she wasn’t a lesbian.
Faith looked around the restaurant taking in the selections of fine wines on offer and the parade of charlatans dining there, for she knew so many secrets about the citizens of Sunnydale she could destroy the very fabric of this so-called respectable society with one truth filled, alcohol fuelled interview.
As her eyes ran up and down the menu Faith heard a familiar voice and turned to the next table where Mr Wyndham-Pryce sat with his wife. She smirked as she knew what he was wearing under his sharply tailored three piece suit from Saville Row, she knew what lacy and delicate materials were stroking his pasty manhood. Wesley looked up from his wife’s not-so-thrilling conversation about the plight of the green tailed Ocelot and blushed when his gaze met Faith’s, she politely nodded not wanting to draw attention or raise the suspicions of his wife. The Boston native liked Wesley both as a client and as a person, for beneath his professional exterior was a soul who needed to be relieved of his responsibilities for a while, from being a public defendant to a personal maid. He had the legs to pull off such skimpy satin uniforms too.
Wesley nodded back and Faith turned back round, not wanting to even think about work tonight and watched as Darla’s gaze fixated on to the perky breasts of their waitress. Faith ordered the salmon and stared around the table feeling like a fifth wheel at her own birthday celebration.
“You not drinking tonight?”, asked Darla as she refilled her glass.
“Nah, I have to work tomorrow and I never drink if I’m working the next day. You know that Dar”, replied Faith. A cardinal rule for her since that time she drew blood on a client during only her fifth session back in LA.
“You know Faith, you really should try to get away for a while, you sooo need someone to fuck that sweet ass of yours”, said Oz as he leaned into his boyfriends arms.
“Tell me about it dude, I can fuck anyone I want to but….actually dating someone? Man, I haven’t had a real date in fuck knows how long, in a town this small it’s not that easy meeting someone is it? I mean what do I say. Hi, I’m Faith, I’m 22. I love Dead Kennedys and HR Giger and oh, I’m a professional dominatrix. Not something I can just slip into a conversation y’know”
“Then why not date a client, that way you’ll have that big secret out in the open”, said Darla as she sipped her cherry Absolut and eyed up the tall man leaning by the bar.
“But they just want Mistress Faith 24-7, not who I am in real life”
“Catch 22, eh?”,said Arnie as he adjusted the silicone package in his tight boi shorts.
“Yeah, somethin’ like that”, said Faith as she let Arnie put his thin arm around her. Like the saying goes, every girl needs a transgendered best friend.
Before Faith could ask Angel and Oz about their upcoming nuptials her face flushed as the restaurant staff came out with a small cake singing happy birthday to her. She groaned as she looked over it’s black frosting topped with a marzipan cat ‘o’ nine tails.
Seeing the smiling faces of a group of friends and family who genuinely loved her made Faith not throw the cake at them but she simply held her hair back as she thrust her more than ample chest forward to blow out the solitary candle.
As the flame flickered and died Faith made a wish.
A wish that hadn’t come true on her last six birthdays so why should this be any different.

          *       *        *        *        *       *       *      *      *
Meanwhile
“You ready Harmony?”, asked Kendra as she adjusted her business suit a little, smoothing out the skirt annoyed that the pickle stain was still there. She made a mental note to have a word with Bitch when she came in.
“Yes”, came the desperate reply.
“Good, now the safety word is ‘blue’ like the color, understand?”
“Yes, totally”
“Ok, as soon as I say “Girl”, the game will begin”, said the exquisite Nubian princess as she took her seat in the specially adapted room.
Harmony stood there, as still and silent as her grandmother in her casket, unwilling to scream, unwilling to use her wily charms. With her frequently touched up tresses and the body of a centerfold, it was merely a formality that she would be subservient to a strong and beautiful woman like this.
“Girl”
Amidst a row of seats, Harmony found herself standing in the aisle of a mock aeroplane, fidgeting nervously in her new uniform. Her skin felt suffocated in the shocking blue latex catsuit that clung to her from the high neck line to the matching six inch heels that had her struggling to keep her balance. White piping ran along each arm and down each leg giving a slightly more professional look to the costume of impending deviancy.
"Good evening Mistress and welcome to S&M Airlines. How may I be your whore today?", replied Harmony as her eyes darted down to the serving tray in front of her that held a Martini with a small umbrella. The favored tipple of the elite passengers on many commercial airlines.
“Girl, where are the olives?”, asked Kendra with a furious tilt to her voice.
“I..I don’t have any Mistress”, said the pretty girl as she held out her tray.
“Oh dear, then we best get right into punishing you, you filthy slut. I guess you’re gonna have a new meaning for the word ‘cockpit’ after today”,
As the fresh, cool breeze nestled against her shaven holes, Harmony could feel that the catsuit was crotchless exposing her to the Cheshire-cat-smile of the ebony goddess.
"I have an idea of what I want. Now if you drop or spill the drink, we'll have to start all again", said the victorious domme."Now turn around"
"Yes Mistress", answered the simpering girl as she span on her stark heels and bent at the waist, shuffling her legs apart and keeping a firm grip on her serving tray.
Kendra reached over to the seat besides her and pulled off an embroidered napkin showing a selection of toys, she tapped a well manicured finger against her chin as she pondered what to use first.
The thick bronzed penis that Mistress Kendra had chosen rubbed up and down against Harmony's pussy, like making a formal introduction to her sex goatee, and, with a loud chuckle, the dark skinned woman pushed it forward.
Harmony's neatly trimmed chasm opened up and swallowed the meat as it's veined outer layer swept along her inner walls making her gulp like she was trying to swallow a ballcock. She jerked around under her primary colored second skin in brutish sensuality as it rubbed her insides with an inelegant insistance digging up her hairless runway with it's bronze pneumatic drill. The young woman, who was the envy of most she had ever encountered, pulled a fake smile but the tic in her eye was the clear sign that she was choking on her shame as the violation picked up the pace.
The replica dick wove the threads of a hedonistic tapestry that Harmony would be unable to unravel as it pumped in and out of her. Her mind became instantly frazzled as every fiber of her being and every facet of her conceited soul was being mercilessly harangued by this constant pressing of her g-spot by the pole forged of pseudo flesh.
Though no phallus, be it of throbbing meat or moulded rubber, had been a guest in her warm and gooey nook for quite some time, Harmony gasped as her pussy widened and contracted around the throbbing intruder ruffling her dampened nest like a lust hungry despot from a barbaric realm. Mistress Kendra moved her hand forward delicately and smiled as she could feel Harmony's muscles grip the member as it pushed into her. As the serving girl gasped, her breath carried with it unsaid sentiments of thanks and need for more.
Mistress Kendra smoothed out the lapel of her suit, which was expected for someone flying in business class, and smiled seeing the delicious distress that the long legged beauty was on. Grinning devilishly the dominatrix strolled over to one end of the room and pulled a wheel mounted full length mirror in front of Harmony. Mistress Kendra wanted to see the girl’s face as she was permeated from behind with a secondary penis of a matching size.
"Now smile to yourself", crowed Kendra revelling in her work.
"Y..yes M..M..Mistress", breathed Harmony as she tilted her head up to see herself in the mirror. She had adored her reflection for all her life but now, with the images that were thrown back into her retinas, she cursed the laser eye surgery she had forced her father to pay for when she was fourteen.
The tall woman, who under the scrutiny of a harsh light showed all the pockmarks and blemishes courtesy of a lifetime under the harsh Californian sun, squealed as her legs widened to accept the uncircumcised head into her butthole.
The dual thrusting drove into her with its unrelenting and precise assault on her holes. Tears dripped down Harmony's face and splashed into the Martini that she held with a vigorous force, praying that this fantasy made flesh would last forever. But once the pounding became more rapid due to the excess of caffeine flowing through the veins of the black woman, Harmony could feel herself slipping.
She dropped the tray and watched as the glass bounced down the aisle as her hands slammed on to the chairs that edged the narrow walkway, her latex clad fingers gripped the headrests as both her holes swelled until they looked like a pair of spare tires. Like a fork breaking the crust of a baked alaska, her creamy soft center slithered out from her and rogue droplets spattered onto the standard grey carpeting that ran throughout the section of mock aircraft.
The freestyle orifice probing continued as she writhed like a worm under a child's magnifying glass as the orgasm she didn't want to be caught was ruthlessly pursued. It tried to evade the purple headed harbingers of ecstasy, but with Kendra increasing the pace at which she thrust the dildo’s back and forth like she was miming sawing wood, it's unforgiving motions was bringing Harmony perilously close to the edge as she threw back her head and gagged on her own breath.
Attached to one of her nipple rings was a name tag that read ' Whore' which rocked back and forth as the cocks pushed in and out of her moistened slits with a scathing tenacity. The front of the catsuit was cut away to allow her breasts to swing freely in time to the momentum that was steadily building.
Harmony's well coiffured hair began to matt with sweat as the latex air hostess hat, kept firmly in place with clips, heated up her head and itched. The young woman was now but a clockwork toy whose spring was coiled to breaking point as her sphincter clamped down on the thrusting penis as she was ploughed with the crudest and most primitive of tools in the most craven scenario Harmony had dreamed of.
Baying like the animal she had been forced to become, her mind’s eye fought to find it’s composure hoping to keep her faculties together as the relentless pumping in and out of her holes sought to wrest ever last speck of self respect from her.
With each push that delved into her, Harmony bucked and swayed which made her creak and pop in her custom designed airline outift. The tight nylon scarf was now irritating her as it's knot seemed to tighten as she fought for breath.
As her sacred tunnels were plumbed in ways she had never experienced she wept, but Harmony's will was strong, as were her cavities, and came back with a fluorish. She fought to keep her orgasm as bay as she still had most of her hour left in which to play and hitting the Big O this early would leave nowhere left to go, no goal to aim for.
"Want more my whore?"
"Y...yes Mistress"
"Course you do, my wanton little slut", sneered Kendra as she twisted the cocks in further.
Harmony's head snapped back as her orgasm neared and she prepared to succumb to it's manic yet horrifying pleasure. It was a filthy, digusting feeling like running foil over the fillings in your teeth. But it was everything that Harmony had prayed for since payday, but just as she felt the rush begin Kendra pulled both toys from Harmony’s aching holes making her whimper.
"I don’t think you’ve earnt that yet, slut. What do you say, slut?"
"I…er…no Mistress", replied the pained hostess with an eerily chirpy tone as her inner core melted a little more, her desperation rising violently inside her.
“Very good, now I believe you spilt my drink. How dare you treat a valuable customer like me in such a way, now assume the position you cunt”, said Kendra as Harmony’s eyes lit up when she saw her Mistress reaching for a cane.

                *        *         *        *        *      *       *      *
“You going to eat that?”, asked Arnie as he pointed towards the cake.
“No, but thanks for it anyway. I have to watch what I put in my body as leather only has so much give to it”, said Faith as she hated the way in which her job ruled her life. The way she had to have flawless make up, sheer perfect stockings and a body to die for, it’s what made her get so rich so quick but it was price that was grating on her nerves. But it was all part of the grand scheme and any domme worth her salt would have to apply such rigorous rules to herself if she wanted to be the best she could. But it was getting harder and harder for Faith to stick to such self imposed regulations.
“So who you been tying and teasing today then”, said the slightly drunken blonde woman from across the table.
“You know I don’t talk about my clients, Darla”
“Oh yes, darn that pesky dominatrix oath of silence”, the blonde smirked back.
“You may laugh D, but I do make over two hundred grand a year”, boasted Faith.
“Is that net or gross?”, butted in Arnie as cartoon dollar signs rolled round in his eyes.
“Is that all you think about, man?”
“Well we do live in a capitalist society and though it may be a machine oiled with the blood of the workers it is one I am proud to be….”
“Ok ok, chill out Arn. I was hoping for a ‘heh that’s cool’. Times like this. I kinda miss Xan”, said Faith as she sipped her sparkling mineral water.
“Well it’s his loss, never thought he would be so freaked out by you being a domme. Remember how he spazzed out when he found out what you had done to Willow”, chuckled Darla.
“Bitch”
“What?”
“Her name is Bitch, not Willow”, corrected the brunette.
“Sorry, I mean Bitch. Still it was pretty funny when Xander got all noble thinking you were hurting her in some way. What a fucking moron”
“Preaching to the perverted here,hon. So isn’t he coming?”
“No, Angel got a call when you went out for a smoke. Xander said he was busy with something”, said Darla as she ran her hand up the short skirt of their waitress but received not a slap but a teasing giggle.
“Oh Ma’am, I’m flattered but..”, the young woman said back as she cleared the plethora of empty glasses on the table.
“I think you know what I’m offering here, what time do you finish?”, growled Darla as she let her thumb trace over the waitresses pantie line, smiling wider when all she found was a damp lacey thong.
“Not for another hour…Ma’am”, said the girl politely as her position would dictate.
“It’s ok, I’ll be here for a while”
As the waitress walked off Darla’s eyes never left her ass that swayed in the short black skirt. Faith and Arnie just chuckled seeing their friend, who was now pushing thirty, planning to deflower yet another teen.
“Hey sis, come dance with me”, said Angel as he broke off dancing with his fiancé.
She just nodded back and took his hand as he lead her over to the mingling couples and she wrapped her arms around him and started to sway to a song which always made her smile.
Angel and Faith danced to ‘Northern Star’ by former Spice Girl, Mel C. A favourite song of Faith’s and she silently thanked Arnie for slipping the DJ a twenty to play it. She did want to love Arnie as he was so kind and giving but Faith just wasn’t into guys, no matter how hard she tried. The love would have to remain platonic and leave two lonely hearts alone again.
“You look so tired honey, you really do need a woman”, said Angel tenderly as he noticed the amount of concealer she had used on the bags under her eyes.
“I’m fine”, said Faith as she flashed the most insincere smile to grace her face since she was pulled over for speeding, it was a shame she to barter with the officer for a free session as she couldn’t afford anymore points on her license. But the cop in question, Glory, would be coming by later in the week.
“Oh I may need you to come in this week, got that cheerleader coming over”, said Faith as she cursed herself for bringing up work on her night off.
“But she’s a complete turd”, he whined back.
“I know, but for all that shit I make sure Satsu pays triple and it’s all just role playing y’know, so just man up, grit your teeth and just go along with it. If she tries to deviate from the game of course you have my permission to throw her ass out”
“Sure thing”
“Angel……….you know what tomorrow is don’t you?”, she asked through slightly dewy eyes as she finally broached the subject she had been avoiding all day.
“Of course, I’ll pick you up after work and we’ll go light a candle at St Michael’s ok?”
“Ok,” Faith said back and kissed him on the cheek before letting Oz cut back in.
Faith strode over to the bar, well used to towering heels and ignoring her already falling arches, and caught the eye of a well dressed young woman who smiled at her before sliding closer, gin and tonic in hand.
“Hi there, I’m Amy”
“Hi, I’m Faith”, she said as she opened her purse to find her cash.
“I’ve seen you around and I..well, I wanted to ask you maybe you could…you and me..”
“Yes, I’d love to…..er, you were going to ask me to dinner weren’t you?”, asked Faith as she bit her tongue nervously
“Actually I was going to ask for your number you know…”, Amy leaned in closer, “…so I can be with my Mistress”
Faith just smiled and internally hated herself for getting her hopes up, she just produced those damned new business cards and handed one to the blonde who smiled widely.
“I’ll give you a call sometime”
“Sure”, said Faith as she once more wished she was tucked up in bed with her dog. Seeing how happy her friends were she inwardly winced seeing how they had all found their true pleasures and desires in life.
“Arn, can you walk me home?”, asked Faith as quickly lost interest in her Diet Coke, ice no lemon, and returned to the table.
“Hang on for a bit and we’ll drive you home”, offered Angel as he too came back to the small yet distinct tribe he was a proud member of.
“Nah, it’s cool. I just need some fresh air”
“Of course”, said Arnie as he got up, brushed the rogue flakes of choux pastry from his well creased pants, and went to fetch their jackets.
Arnie held Faith’s blazer open for her and slid into it enjoying the soft satin lining running along her skin. She double checked she still had her phone and kissed her friends on the cheek, except for Darla who was last seen trying to sneak into the kitchen.
“Thanks for tonight guys”, the brunette said as she slipped her arm through Arnies and walked away into the night.
“Anytime honey”, said Oz as he licked some frosting from Angel’s neck.
As they strolled beneath the glistening moon Faith felt a strange comfort being with her best friend, she adored his gentlemanly streak and compassionate center. Maybe one day she would even ask him for a date, though she wasn’t that desperate yet, but Faith knew Arnie would snap up the opportunity in a heartbeat. They walked in near silence just enjoying the darkness as it wafted around them like a protective cocoon.
It was a lonely night for lonely souls.
       *       *      *     *      *     *     *     *     *     *
Harmony slumped against the wall, her skin still tingled after her late session with Kendra but now all she felt was fear. Clutching at her throat as blood flowed from the gaping slash wound in her neck Harmony could feel the clutch of death setting in, the blurring of her vision as her life spilled onto the asphalt below her. As she flopped to the ground, a rasping terrified gurgle spilling from her as she desperately clawed her way along the sidewalk, her golden hair dying red with her torrent of blood.
As her eyes glazed over the last thing she saw was a glint of a knife coming closer to her face. Harmony’s body, now still and lifeless as her pulse, which had been so rampant a mere twenty minutes earlier, had slowed and now ceased.
Her porn star looks now spattered with red, a pool of crimson circled around her head as an already bloodied blade sliced into her soft skin.
Her killer laughing as the flesh split under the silver edge.
Her cheek now bearing the roman numeral ‘IV’.
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Diary Of A Dominatrix