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The Servitude of Sappho: Remaking Joyce Summers	By : Salamandaslash Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > General Views: 26891 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of the other fandoms referenced in this fic. I don't know any of the actresses referenced in this fiction and I am making no money from it (as if) - please see author's notes for full disclaimer.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter 3: No good deed…

Their threesome with Kendra had been almost two weeks ago now despite Kendra’s all too evident interest, Faith had not shared her again with her friend.
Joyce felt an undeniable sense of frustration. There had been something about the sense of being overwhelmed in the ménage a trois with the Faith and her friend that had left her deeply moved; her lustful desires intensely stirred. Despite her frustration – or perhaps because of it – she found herself settling, sinking, deeper and deeper into and increasingly contented life submission to her young lover.
She remained subject to regular discipline and was spanked most days, almost gladly submitting now to the tear inducing application hand, paddle and strap across her yielding naked bottom.
Their sexual adventures had continued: the regular and demanding public displays of affection and domination such as the busy hand exploring her bottom through her dress in the supermarket produce aisle and the tongue in her mouth at the checkout; or being pulled her onto Faith’s lap at the Espresso Pump while a hand slipped up beneath her skirt to caress her thighs, fondling her womanhood; or the fingers in her pussy in the darkness of the movie theatre; or the times when Faith had made good on another promise to spank her in the back of the empty Gallery.
Whilst the latter had not been wholly public Joyce had been all too keenly aware of the unlocked door with its ‘Open for Business’ sign and how it was surely only a matter of time before a client chanced, unawares upon her painful bare-bottomed shame.
And then at last Faith had made good at last upon her threat to spank her in a public place and the Sunday morning spanking in nearby Sweet Valley Park had been as piquantly humiliating as it had been painful as an audience of both sexes and all ages assembled to watch a she was summarily disciplined, skirt raised and panties downed, over her young lover’s knee until her bottom burned and she begged, tears flowing.
At the same time her wardrobe had now completely changed. None of the clothes or underwear she had owned prior to the beginning of her relationship with Faith remained. They had all been replaced as the young brunette had promised by scanty, skimpy, trampy new outfits and sluttish, provocative, kinky lingerie. It had been a costly exercise to replace an entire wardrobe; the underwear proving especially expensive given both Faith’s tastes and the regularity with which her panties were discarded, left behind or gifted to some surprised waitress or appreciative shop-assistant.
She looked down at the back of her legs making sure that her stocking seems were straight. She knew she could expect a spanking tonight as usual but she had no intention of making it worse by failing to meet the exacting standards Faith had set that morning. She adjusted her garters again and made sure her panties and her bustier were just right. The laces were not as tight as they had been when had Faith dressed her for their date night the previous Saturday when she had taken her to the most exclusive, expensive restaurant in town and where her very, *very* public, display of lesbian submission; sitting in just her blouse, panties and stockings while they had dined had caused something of a stir, but they were still tight enough to cinch her waist and emphasise the voluptuous womanly spread of her hips and bottom; and the swell of her breasts as they rested on the underbust half cup of her bustier. Her nipples were exposed, pink, freshly rouged. When she heard Faith at the door she would pinch them erect to welcome her lover home.
Checking herself out in the full length mirror that now stood in the corner of their room Joyce primped her dark golden curls and smiled.
“Not bad,” she said to herself. “Classy…but slutty at the same time…just the way Faith likes…and…mmmm…hell! *I’d* fuck me!”
Such thoughts had become ‘normal’ to her – if anything about her new life could be described as normal. She had certainly come to accept the almost constant sexual demands of her young lover while growing to accept her own equally continuous state of arousal. She had adjusted to the regular spankings and other punishments – in as much as she was allowed or even wanted to adjust. She had come to accept and even enjoy her regular appointments with Faith’s razor and she could barely imagine any more what it would be like to be anything but smooth, naked below her belly. She had come to terms with her awareness of her new, charged, sexuality and the voracious appetite that accompanied it. She had developed what could only be describe as a lecherous, wandering eye and a vivid imagination that caused her to fancy herself, naked, in the arms of many of the women she met; fantasising about them making love to her, demanding that she perform sexually for them; commanding her to submit with strict, painful discipline that might make her weep and beg and spread her wanton legs.
Of course she never so much as said a word or gave any signal that she might be available to them – because, in truth, she was most emphatically not! And while Faith thrilled to know about her fervid, erotic Sapphic lusting she was quite emphatic that Joyce was not permitted to act upon her fancies, vivid though they were. Completely in thrall to her lover, they remained mere fantasies. She belonged to Faith and *that* was the end of it.
And, truth be told, it was all that she wanted.
Standing now in their bedroom she looked around once more time to make sure it was neat and tidy; ready for anything her young lover might desire.
A new wooden trunk had appeared at the foot of their bed. It’s padded, leather covered lid was soft – though that was scant compensation when she was bent over it as she had been several times now. The lid lifted up and inside were a growing collection of sex toys including a number of paddles and straps; a flogger and a crop as well as several dildos and plugs; all the product of their regular shopping trips. The cane that Faith had promised her hung forbiddingly on a hook above their bed.
She shivered at the sight of it remembering its wicked bite; recalling how it felt as it sliced like fire into the soft, receptive flesh of her bottom leaving the raised red wheals that had remained for days as a reminder of agony.
After the first time when the cane was new and Faith had introduced her to it as a salutary lesson, her lover not caned her often; reserving the cruel bamboo for times when she deemed that Joyce’s behaviour sufficient to require serious correction – such as the morning she had been caught masturbating in the shower; or when she had been conducted home by the blonde Police Officer who had stopped her for speeding.
She shook at that memory; of the spanking administered firstly in front of the avidly staring Policewoman and then by the Officer herself; and then of being draped over the back of the settee to be caned by both in turn.
She had never known agony like it and she had wept, her tears flowing freely, her parted legs kicking as she was punished. And punishment it was, nothing so complex or erotic as the discipline to which she was normally subject; intended to enforce; to elucidate her submission. This was punition pure and simple; agony.
And the cruel wheals that adorned her bottom in the aftermath were agony in themselves so that she had been quite unable to sit down for over a day after.
Yet despite her misery she had hoped, after the experience of being shared with Kendra, that Faith would then invite Officer Lockley into their bed. Indeed there was no mistaking the heated sexual interest in the Police Officer’s eyes, but her lover made it clear that her caning was intended solely as punishment and was in no way part of their lovemaking. She had not made love to her that night and Joyce had been left to endure her pain unalloyed with only the turmoil of her thoughts for company.
She had slept – what little sleep she had been able to get – on her front that night, her pillow moist with her tears but, by the end of the night, the bed was damp beneath her where her sex had dripped, oozing as anguish gave way to desire and frustration.
And yet, despite the indisputable arousal she felt in the aftermath of that ordeal and the intensity of her orgasm when Faith finally took her the following morning, the cane terrified her as no other implement of correction and discipline did. So she looked at it now with foreboding knowing that no matter how she strove, inevitably she would earn its cruel caress again.
Absently her hand rubbed the tender sweep of her buttocks at the fearful prospect and a sense of despair at the inevitable response of her body assailed her.
But beyond that terrible night her things were almost perfect as her life with Faith became ever more comfortable, more fitting.
Word of Faith’s new housewife had spread through the surprising large lesbian, BDSM community in Sunnydale – after all they were regular patrons now of the town’s two lesbian leather clubs – and it had become noticeable that more and more lesbian couples frequented the Gallery. Still trade was up and Joyce had found that she had begun to appreciate the steady stream of attractive women of all ages who visited to browse and sometimes to flirt with her. Few ever bought anything, but they seemed to browse at length – though that may have been to admire the often scantily dressed proprietress, as much as to see the new range of girl-girl erotica that she had begun to stock.
Many were completely new but a few she recognised. The wealthy red haired woman reappeared on several occasions paying closer to attention each time until it became – much to Faith’s delighted amusement – plainly obvious that she was hitting on her. Somehow Joyce managed to extricate herself from the situation, though the wealthy woman’s attentions made her centre quiver. There was a stunning looking Asian woman whose daughter she knew was in Dawn’s class at school. There was one of Buffy’s university teachers; and two members of the local tennis club whose body language made quite clear the intimate nature of their relationship.
But of Dayna there had been no sign for almost two weeks until her friend appeared, shyly, late one afternoon.

Joyce had embraced her warmly, delighted to see her friend again.
“So – are you ready?” She’d asked rolling her eyes at the brunette.
Dayna had blushed a little but nodded.
“Yes,” she said releasing her breath a crooked grin forming on her lips. “I think so…”
Joyce smiled in return “OK!” she said brightly. “Look – let’s go get coffee…no a drink – I know just the place. I’ll close up early and we can chat…and we can see if we can find you a date…before I have to go home and get ready for my darling Faith – so I’m dressed just right for her when she gets home!”
“Oh…ok,” Dayna said perhaps a little doubtfully.
Joyce closed up the Gallery. It had been a quiet sort of an afternoon anyway, though in the morning she had sold several recent acquisitions – of the more risqué variety – to a middle aged blonde woman and her curvy Hispanic companion. They had obviously been lovers and as they browsed at length, pausing frequently to discuss each erotic piece and the exact nature of their relationship had become clearer as the blonde’s hands wondered casual, lazy dominant over the younger woman’s curves. And the voluptuously plump, raven haired femme leaned into her mature lover’s embrace. She moved with an all too familiar stiffness, tremulous and taut, that told of one who had quite recently been sternly disciplined as her companion fondled her full, rounded bottom through the tight, sheer sheath of her skirt.
When they kissed Joyce had found herself smiling at them. It was all too evident that they were deeply in love.
Once the security system was set, instead of crossing the road to head for the familiar environs of the Espresso Pump, they headed to Reggies.
She explained, as Faith had, that while it wasn’t an actual girls-only bar because Kendra and her business partner, Reggie (and indeed all the girls they employed to wait tables) were lesbians, it was frequented by many of the surprisingly large Sunnydale lesbian community. Joyce thought Dayna might find it a more relaxed place to start her journey.
“Joyce? Hi!” Kendra purred as she came over to take their order for two glasses of Zinfandel. Her eyes were dark. “Didn’t expect to see you here without Faith…she know you’re out with another woman?” She looked Dayna up and down. “And a beautiful one at that!” she said with a wink.
Dayna blushed under the young black woman’s honest, open appraisal.
“N-no…Kendra…i-it’s not like that,” Joyce said, stammering a little, at the sight of the black woman; feeling as if she had been caught in some misdemeanour keenly aware of the beautiful young top’s easy dominance. Her core fluttered and she felt a warmth between her thighs; a tickling sensation in the pit of her being remembering the feel of Kendra’s body against hers as she and Faith had shared her. Her heart raced, her pulse pattering at the sight of her firm, rounded curves and the memory of her young body; her soft skin; her skilful, cruel hands; how she tasted when she climaxed. She flushed at the memory and Kendra smiled knowingly at her. “Th-this is my friend Dayna…sh-she’s…w-we’re not…you know…I-I wouldn’t do that to Faith…you *know* that!” she stammered antsy, distracted as her arousal spiked.
Kendra grinned nodding.
“No – I guess you wouldn’t Joyce…well not if you didn’t want Faith’s cane across your ass…which you probably deserve anyway…” she said giving Joyce a hard, intense look that made her quake before she turned towards Dayna. “I’m pleased to meet you Dayna. I’m Kendra…” she said pleasantly, smoothly changing tone.
Dayna blushed again as the younger woman turned her full attention on her. “P-pleased to meet you Kendra,” Dayna said hesitantly holding out a hand which the black girl took, but instead of shaking it she raised it to her lips.
“Not as pleased to as *I* am,” Kendra said with an easy rogueish smile. “You are *very* fine Dayna…” she held out her hand. Her voice was deep, accented. “You must have a pretty soft, white ass…mmmm…you look must look *beautiful* when you come…” she said without embarrassment.
“Oh my!” Dayna breathed. “Ohh…oh I err…I d-don’t know about that!”
“I do,” Kendra winked. “You jus’ let me know if you want me to prove it, ok beautiful?” she said confidently.
“She’s…err…nice…” said Dayna, feeling decidedly flustered as Kendra walked away.
“Yes…well…about that,” Joyce said humorous grin. “I don’t think she’s *quite* your type Dayna.”
“No? I don’t know…she’s hot…she’s young…and she’s *sexy*…”
“No that’s not what I mean.”
“Because she’s black you mean?” she frowned at her friend. “I don’t mind.”
“No honey…what she said about your ass…I mean unless you want to find yourself bare assed over her knee…with your panties at your ankles…” she shrugged
“Oh…oh – you mean…”
“She wants to *spank* you Dayna…I mean she wants to fuck you but I she wants to warm your ass first!”
“Oh…you mean she’s a Domme? Like Faith?”
“Well yeah – except *no-one* is like my Faith…but she is Faith’s best friend – and they *definitely* like the same things…*all* the same things…” she said with a sort of wistful emphasis.
“Ohh…I see…”
“And I reckon that’s not exactly your thing is it honey?”
“Oh n-no...I-I don’t think so…I was thinking that I was more on *her* side of things…” Dayna said almost shyly but her eyes shone.
Joyce nodded “Yes…I thought so…” she said. “Well I don’t think you have to worry about Kendra though…looks like she’s already got her eye in tonight.” She looked pointedly across the bar to the place where Kendra was talking to a red haired woman. She was probably a few years younger than Joyce or Dayna but still in her late 30’s and she was slender, tall with a slim, languid physique in a smart business outfit that flattered her figure. She had long waving red hair and fine features with a bright, wide mouthed smile.
The young black woman’s hand slid down over the red head’s bottom as she leaned in close. The red head’s eyes widened and she blushed, her mouth falling open, and she laughed nervously as Kendra leaned in to whisper something in her ear.
“I think you’re safe.” Joyce said wryly. “Unlike her…”
“Do you know her?” Dayna asked and Joyce shook her head.
“No, never seen her before.”
They both watched as the red haired woman subsided quickly into Kendra’s arms, surrendering to her kiss as the young black woman’s hands began to make free, fondling the pliant flesh of her taut buttocks intimately.
“Do you think she knows?”
“What Kendra has in mind for her?” Joyce answered with a question as Kendra released the red head before turning her to spank her bottom making her body jolt as she gave a little gasp that could be heard through the general noise of the bar. “Guess she does now!”
The usual, small cadre of males looked on jealously, glowering from their corner.
Placing a hand on the red haired woman’s neck the young black woman began to lead her new conquest towards the door marked ‘Private’ at the back of the bar.
“Well *that* didn’t take long,” Joyce said with a strained laugh, her eyes a little distant as they followed them.
“Is she going to…you know…”
Joyce looked at her friend with a smile that almost suggested pity.
“Spank her? Fuck her? I expect so,” she replied.
“Ohh…” said Dayna, squeezing her thighs together. Her pulse pounded where they met. “I-is it *always* like that here?” she asked.
Joyce shrugged. “Not always…but a lot…do you like it?” Joyce asked, making Dayna blush again, but the brunette gave the slightest of nods.
“Yes,” she said after a moment. “I think I like it a lot,” and her eyes settled on where a blonde haired waitress flirted with an older woman in bike leathers.
Their drinks came. Moonlighting from her job at the boutique Cordelia brought the Zinfandel. It had a deep pink colour almost like liquid flesh.
“No Faith tonight Joyce?” the young brunette asked, her eyes sparkling, cheeky as she looked Dayna up and down appreciatively as she set down their drinks.
Joyce looked at the younger woman with a smile.
“No Cordy…but this is my friend Dayna…err…Ms Penshaw,” Joyce corrected herself pointedly. “She’s just trying to work out what sort of girls she’s into…”
“Joyce!” Dayna coughed.
Cordelia pouted. “Well – if you need any help with that…Ms Penshaw…” she pouted, waggling her perfect brows knowingly at the older brunette as she set down their glasses. “I’m available to…assist…” she added and turning to go she looked over her shoulder before walking away with a shake of the hips.
Dayna coloured a deep pink but her breath came short as her eyes locked on the wiggle of the waitress’ bottom as it sashayed across the bar.
“Interested?” Joyce said. She looked at her friend, her eyes twinkling and the auburn haired woman’s blush deepened. “I think it’s pretty obvious *she* is!”
“She’s certainly pretty…do you really think so?” Dayna asked nervously.
Joyce nodded, continuing. “She’s *much* more your type I think,” she said. “You know, I reckon she’d let you get her out of her panties – if she’s wearing any – in a flash…a pretty *pink* flash…”
“Joyce!” she exclaimed again.
“Really Dayna…you’re going to have to become less squeamish…you’re going to need to be a lot more assertive…if that’s what you want…you’re going to have to take control! Be demanding! Like Faith is with me…”
“Does she really…control you?” Dayna asked uncertainly. “Is she very strict?”
Joyce smiled nodding. “Yes she does,” she said. “She’s *very* strict with me…”
They talked some more, watching the clientele come and go. In one corner of the bar, hemmed in, the small huddle of guys seemed to cling together as if seeking safety in numbers; but the rest of the customers were women of varying ages. Joyce tried again to convince her friend that she should be more assertive when Cordelia returned.
The dark haired waitress came back with more drinks. Setting them down she bent over making sure that Dayna got an eyeful of her cleavage and the older woman’s eyes looked like they could have burned the top off of the curvy young brunette.
Slowly she managed to join in the flirtatious banter mustering the courage to tell Cordy how pretty she was she. After that it got easier and the conversation rapidly, took on a more flirtatious, suggestive tone, quickly establishing that the young brunette was indeed quite naked beneath her short skirt.
Dayna took a leap asking her to prove it.
She had not perhaps anticipated Cordelia’s easy willingness to do so. The young brunette lifted her skirt to flash her sex with her neatly trimmed brown pubes much to Dayna’s delighted surprise.
“You like Ms Penshaw?” Cordy asked archly and Dayna nodded.
“Very pretty Cordy,” she said with a lascivious smile. “*Very* pretty!”
Her pussy throbbed, doing most of her thinking for her now and grinning emboldened, when Kendra emerged from the back room with a now dishevelled and wearied looking red head she asked Cordy if she’d ever been in the back room.
“Oh – a few times,” the young brunette laughed, looking archly at her. “Though mostly I seem to end up out back in the alley! Why? Would you like to take me back there Ms Penshaw?”
“Maybe I would…”
“Oooohhh…and what would you do to me?”
“Mmmm…well I think I’d like to start by putting you across my knee and giving that pretty bottom of yours a nice, long bare-bottom spanking!”
Cordy had groaned and then she’d said: “Ohhh…oh…would you ma’am…I’d *love* that!”
“And then...I think I’d explore your cute little pussy…see how wet you are …”
Cordelia’s eyes had begun to glaze over.
“W-well – if you can wait half an hour Miss…you can find out…” she breathed. “I finish at 8…”
“Mmmm…” Dayna purred. If she felt any doubts now, any fear or hesitation it was swept away by the raging desire she felt; the exhilarating sense of certainty at having what she wanted at hand; at the prospect of having the gorgeous, sensual brunette under her control. “Good…and then you can come home with me ok?” Her heart was racing. “I think I’d prefer to spank you in private…before I take you to bed…”
“Ohh…oh m-my…oh-o-ok Miss…” Cordelia had been visibly stirred. “I-I…I’d *love* that!”
Joyce had watched on transfixed by the sexual interplay, her core hot and aching with desire, unaware of the time until that moment. Suddenly she realised that her third glass of wine had come and gone and she should have been home and ready for her lover an hour before.
“Oh my GOD!” she suddenly exclaimed interrupting the mood. “Oh my God…I’m late…oh *fuck* I’m in *so* much trouble…I should have been home an hour ago! Oh fuck I am going to get *such* a spanking!”
Dayna looked askance at her friend. She seemed genuinely concerned.
“Oh Joyce…I’m so sorry…I didn’t want to get you in trouble...though it sounds like you don’t need my help with that anyway…” Her lips quirked into a sort of grin.
“I-it’s ok Dayna – b-but I’ve got to go! I need to get home – like now! Oh God Faith is going to punish me so hard!”
“That’s ok Joyce…but…you don’t mind if I stay – wait for Cordelia do you?”
“N-no! You should stay Dayna – take her home…enjoy yourselves…and oh…call me tomorrow…not too early – it’s going to be a *very* long night…call me at work I want to know all the details – ok?”
Dayna nodded. “Ok.” She agreed. There was a sort of puppyish enthusiasm in her eyes that was a little incongruous in a forty-something. She was already soaking inside her panties at the prospect of what might happen between her and Cordelia. Now she felt a further flutter of arousal at the realisation of what lay in store for her friend when she got home.
“Good – now I *have* to go honey – oh my fanny is so going to pay for this! Call me – ok?”
Joyce stood in a hurry to kiss her friend on the cheek before she scurried away.
Dayna watched with mixture of wry amusement and delight.

A deep, gelid pit of fear opened up in Joyce’s centre as she hurried to her car.
Fortunately her third glass of Zinfandel did not seem to impact upon her driving – though the speed limits were tested several times in her urgency to return home. The last thing she needed tonight, she thought, was to attract the attention of Office Kate Lockley again.
She pulled into the drive and leapt from the SUV to hurry up the drive and into the house she was both relieved and at the same time terrified to discover, waiting in the living room, was her lover.
Still dressed in her work clothes Faith was outwardly calm but she radiated an intense energy that seemed to vibrate around her. She looked up. Her dark eyes narrowed forming slits of night.
She said nothing, allowing a space for terror to fill Joyce.
Shaking, the golden haired slut apologised. She babbled something about being sorry for being late; that she would make amends; that she would rush upstairs this minute and be back down as quickly as may be, dressed appropriately; as a slut should be for her lover and Mistress. She assured her that dinner would be ready shortly; and asked did she want a drink, or a foot-rub, or anything else an obedient, slutty housewife might do for her beautiful lover.
She pouted and looked upwards archly from beneath her golden curls before moving hips swaying towards the stairs.
Finally her lover spoke.
“No,” she said. Her voice was hard, clipped; her drawl flat.
“N-no darling…I-I’m s-sorry…I r-really am …wh-what do you want me to do?”
“I want you here…at home…on time…ready for me…just like we agreed…”
“Oh F-Faith darling…I-I’m s-so sorry – I w-was with Dayna…she was…she was confused…I-I lost track of time…”
“I don’t care…”
“B-but *darling*…”
“I don’t care about your excuses Joyce…you know the rules…”
“Y-yes darling…I-I…I know the rules…” Joyce hung her head.
“Good…” Faith said heavily. “Get undressed Joyce!”
“B-but F-Faith – I c-could go put on something sexy for you darling…b-before…”
“No! Now Joyce! Here!”
She knew she was going to be punished but she had hoped that somehow she could minimise it; distracting her lover’s attention by appealing to her lustful appetites. But her heart sank. She was suddenly certain that there would be no easing of this ordeal.
Punishment was due, she knew; and punishment, she realised, was unavoidable.
“No Joyce! I don’t want you in that cute baby-doll we got out this morning…I don’t want you looking sexy at all Joyce! This isn’t playtime…it isn’t going to be fun Joyce! Now *get undressed*!” Faith ordered, finished with a hiss.
Joyce paled. She shook. “D-darling…” she tried to say; to plead.
But her dark haired lover was implacable.
“*Be quiet* Joyce,” she barked. “I gave you an order – now get yourself naked *now*!” There was no mistaking the angry hiss this time.
Joyce’s bottom lip quivered but slowly, nervously she began to obey; unbuttoning her blouse to slip it off before unfastening her skirt; stepping out of it. That morning, when Faith had chosen her underwear she had not included panties. At the time she had felt the usual frisson at being naked beneath her clothes, the thrill of being so vulnerable should her lover wish to take her at any time. But now she wished she had been left with her underwear in order to preserve her dignity for just a brief moment longer. She felt unusually exposed in just her bra, stockings and garter-belt.
Her hands shook as she fumbled with her bra fastenings.
Looking up Joyce saw no softening in her lover’s glowering visage as her breasts spilled free; none of the usual heat that resulted when Faith watched her strip..
“E-everything?” she asked vainly hoping one last time to appeal to Faith’s lusts. She made a show of straightening her stockings, knowing how her young lover’s desires could sometimes be influenced. But her appeal achieved nothing.
“Yes Joyce – everything,” Faith said without emotion, making Joyce shudder, icy terror building.
Faith was usually ardent, bristling with passion and heat when she disciplined her. Now the cold, restrained fury terrified Joyce and she fumbled, shaking, with her garters; unfastening the clips from her stockings to roll them down her legs and caste aside the lacy belt until she stood completely naked and she cowered before her lover. She felt more exposed than she had ever felt before – though she had been positioned and posed; bent and spread…opened and displayed in ways far more revealing and humiliating many times before.
But there was something in the implacable way that Faith observed her simple nudity that left her desolate, terrified.
“Oh F-Faith…d-darling…please…I’m so s-sorry,” she tried again with a sob. “Please darling…d-don’t look at me like that…I-I kn-know I’m late…I know I’ve broken the rules…b-but please…f-forgive me…”
Faith shook her head. “Be quiet Joyce.” Her voice was flat.
Stepping forward she took the older woman by the arm to pull her towards her.
“The deal is Joyce…you misbehave…you step out of line…you break the rules…you do *anything* wrong…you get punished…not a fun punishment…not to warm you up…this isn’t foreplay Joyce…this isn’t *sex*! You understand?” Faith’s voice was like grinding ice. “You belong to me Joyce…you…damn…is that booze I can smell on your breath?”
Joyce shook, quailing before her lover’s spiking anger.
“Oh Gohhhhd…oh y-yes…s-sorry Faith…w-we went for a drink…sorry Faith…”
“You’ve been drinking? And you drove home? What the fuck’s wrong with you Joyce? Do you *want* me to call Kate Lockley back?”
“N-noooo-oh-oh p-pleas Faith no-oh!” Joyce cried out in panic.
Faith glowered, bristling and then suddenly, she snapped into action.
“Get over my knee!” she rasped, almost snarling, pulling Joyce forcefully with her towards the settee. Sitting down she hauled the older woman down across her knee. “Damn Joyce – this is going to hurt!”
Her hand fell at once, landing hard, without preamble or warm up on her buttocks. And then Faith was spanking her fiercely, with hard, fast spanks that made her bottom recoil and judder.
And the spanking was only the beginning.
Joyce quickly discovered that her lover had been right, this punishment was unlike any other she’d ever suffered at her hands before. It was not sensual. It wasn’t punctuated by sly, probing fingers that dabbled in liquid flesh, stirring the honey pot of her lustful flesh; or teased her nubbin with skilful little pinches; or probed her bottom teasing and straining her tender knot. There were no pauses to caress and stroke her flanks, to sample their heat or soothe her distress. There was no erotic commentary describing her reactions, admiring the way her body responded, moistening, arching as her legs parted; praising every sensual, sluttish wanton response. There were only hot, stinging strokes that rained down unrelenting and cruel until she was allowed to rise and pressed to bend over, proffering up her blushing, roseate bottom for the strap that cracked down on her already heated buttocks in waves of growing agony.
Once again there was no pleasure to be found in her punishment. There was no role playing; no counting of the strokes; no game of submission in which she thanked her lover and asked for more; no pretence of her complicity.
And after her strapping there was more…more than she had ever imagined there could be even as she wept and begged and strained and suffered.
Faith hauled her upright.
“Stand *up* Joyce…hands on your head…arch your back…legs open!” she ordered, taking a fistful of her hair. A thin thronged flogger replaced the strap in her hand; its dozens of slender, whippy, footlong, leather cords lashed into a single bound grip.
Joyce had felt its kiss before but not like this.
She howled as Faith lashed it across her buttocks, up and down and side to side covering the broad spread of her rump, her thighs with bitter stinging swipes before snapping the flogger upwards with a flick of her wrist, between her legs to bite the tender flesh of her sex, her belly.
She lashed her buttocks again alternating a number of strokes with occasional flicking strokes to her womanhood before she made her turn. Still holding her by the hair she let the whip play across her breasts; up and down and side to side over each globe, colouring then lurid pink before she struck lower – down her belly to her thighs and then her sex again, flogging her where it hurt most, where her body was softest.
She was quite bereft of the ability to think at all beyond the present, searing agony as Faith revisited her breasts before making made her turn once more to belabour her bottom and thighs and vulva anew.
And yet even then Faith was not finished.
Casting aside her whip she forced Joyce up over the back of the settee so upturned, her hands rested on the floor and her tormented bottom became the highest point of her body. Presented, vulnerable to the cane she dreaded the younger woman then painted excruciation in thin red wheals across the womanly spread of her buttocks.
Later she would realise that Faith must have prepared for this, fetching the cane from above their bed as she waited for her tardy return.
But for now, suffering, Joyce shrieked, her shoulders aching from her awkward position, bearing her weight and the cane bit again and again, slashing down to leave livid stripes across her already scorched scarlet flesh.
She had long since ceased to beg, plunged into the truth of her punishment, until her world was only suffering. Utterly lost, adrift, awash with pain she had no idea of how many times the cruel cane sliced, hissing down to crack across her ravaged buttocks. Had she been asked she would have been unable to describe why it was that she suffered so.
Only when, at last, it was over; the cane’s final biting stroke scoring a last, angry brand across her bottom to leave her sobbing, weeping, consumed by misery, could she have found the wit to recall the reason for her punishment.
Crying, shaking she somehow knew that her ordeal had been earned; that her infraction had merited no less; her correction due; her suffering as it should be.
Her lover had been right to chastise her so severely.
“Get up Joyce,” Faith’s voice was still hard, commanding, tight; but the icy chill that had left Joyce terrified had warmed, softening. If not kindly, admiration and maybe the beginnings of something that might have been forgiveness whispered though her tone as she sent her to the wall.
“Hands on your head Joyce…and get your nose and your nipples against the wall…legs straight…feet together…bottom out…now keep still…” Her hand slid down her older lover’s blistered flesh as she manoeuvred her into position, pressing her head and shoulders forwards; her hips back. “Now *don’t move*… it’s over Joyce…but I want you to hold that position until I say. I want you to think about what’s just happened to you.”
“Y-y-yuh-y-yes Ma’am,” the golden haired woman sobbed groaning pressing herself to obey; to assume the position.
She could not tell how long she stood there. Left to her own thoughts, her own misery, it seemed her chastisement continued in her head. She became increasingly aware of how this punishment differed from her regular experiences of discipline. Still Faith did not touch her; still she made none of the usual demands of her servitude; of her body; for her to please her sexually. Now her young lover left her quite alone.
Slowly Joyce came back to herself. Her consciousness reasserting itself she began to understand what had happened, what was *happening* to her.
Regret and guilt began to melt into expiation in her depths. There was still nothing sexual about her ordeal and yet, she knew, it *was* completely sexual!
She realised that in surrendering so much of herself to Faith she had given her the right to not simply discipline her for their mutual pleasure (if the sensations of her regular spankings and paddlings could be mistaken for pleasure) but to rule her entire existence beyond just her sensuality, with painful discipline.
She had become completely Faith’s – not just her sex-slave but her possession; her property; her *chattel*. And she realised that she was now indentured to her, utterly; without prospect of release or freedom or end to her subjugation.
And in her subjugation, her powerlessness suffering, she saw that here was yet another lesson and her heart sang as she realised that her sexuality had become completely subsumed by servitude so that while her punishment had not been about sensuality, about eroticism, it was for her, in every way imaginable completely, totally erotic.

She felt light – as if all her guilt had been absolved in the fire of her punishment – and though tears still welled in her eyes, yet there was joy as well in her anguish.
A little later her lover came to her again. Speaking softly to her she wrapped her in her arms and led her upstairs to bed. Her arms were strong and soft and her embrace felt like devotion and forgiveness and love; and Joyce knew that her penalty was paid.
“Hush now love, it’s over…” Faith confirmed her words breathed, soft with tenderness as the older woman trembled in her arms.
But Faith did not make love to her that night.
“Wh-why?” Joyce asked her voice tremulous, unsteady with confusion. She lay with her legs open, offering herself despite the agony of her tormented flesh against the sheets. Her sex felt bruised where she had been whipped but she was wet and her clitoris throbbed, aching. “I-I understand…I had to be punished…b-but…”
Faith’s answer was more prosaic, less symbolic than the older woman had feared. “Hush Sweetness…you’re just too sore…” she answered softly, brushing her lips over her mouth.
Joyce new it was true and she met Faith’s lips with her gratitude. “S-so let me…pleasure you darling…my tongue isn’t hurting…” she murmured, her eyes pleading.
“No love,” Faith shook her head, kissing Joyce on the forehead. “I can’t…it’s too…intense for me as well. I need to calm down as well baby…but don’t worry Sweetness…” she continued seeing the hurt of rejection in Joyce’s eyes. “I love you…and I want you…I want you so much…but I – we – need to let this evening go.”
Quickly shedding her clothes to join her in bed, her nakedness seeming to fit Joyce as never before, Faith held her close, tenderly until they both slept.
It was late when they woke in the following morning and then, Faith did make love to her at last, licking her clitoris while she pushed two fingers slick with her flood into her bottom, her thumb into her lovemouth until she came crying softly, shuddering with utter pleasure as she released her pent up flood. Then more tears followed and she knew that eventually she would commit some other infraction another time and cruel punishment meant not to arouse but to correct and expiate would follow. She knew then that it would not be long until she gave Faith some new cause to punish her in truth, whip and cane her, and she knew that she would suffer with a willing heart.
The she reciprocated licking the desire from her lover’s thighs before drinking from the source her tongue lapping at Faith’s secret sweet-spot until her mouth was flooded with the young woman’s sharp viscous sap.
Afterwards she went to make breakfast as Faith showered and as they ate Faith explained that their late morning would mean she had to make up the time at work tonight – but that she expected Joyce at home and ready at the usual time. And with a smile she promised that she would make love to her on her return.
Joyce’s heart was full and she felt blissful when a little later than usual she opened the gallery. She felt light, unburdened and though she was sore, aching more than she could ever remember she was entirely comfortable; happier in herself than ever before.
It was only minutes later that the phone rang.
It was Dayna.
She sounded confident, happy, her mood seeming to reflect Joyce’s. Joyce could barely credit the difference from the day before. Though, when she heard the details of Dayna’s evening she began to understand why.
Her friend had waited – a little nervously – as Cordelia had finished her shift. They had flirted some more with Dayna finding Cordy in her lap at one point, the young brunette guiding the older woman’s inexperienced hand up to explore the liquid flesh between her legs.
“That’s why I don’t wear panties…” she’d said archly, shuddering, leaning into Dayna seeking her tongue as she’d let her explore her slit.
Dayna’s fingers had been wet when they came away and Cordelia had licked her lips before cleaning her juices from them.
“Mmmm…” Cordelia had purred. “I just love the taste of pussy…even my own…”
Dayna’s head had spun. She had never felt anything like it before.
A little later Kendra had wandered over to join her. She was clearly checking that her employee was going to be safe. Dayna had thought that she seemed satisfied and when she left the bar, Cordelia on her arm – under the watchful eye of Kendra and the other woman, Reggie – she had been sure that she saw approval in their eyes.
In the street Cordy had snaked into her arms kissing her, their tongues tangling and as the younger woman had moved sensually against her Dayna’s hand had found itself drawn unwittingly to the tight, curving swell of her bottom.
“Mm-hmmm,” the younger waitress had breathed into her mouth, rolling her ass in Dayna’s grasp. “Mmm yes that’s it…”
Dayna squeezed a little tighter, taking a firmer handful of her ass pulling her close to thrust against her. “You like that?” She asked
“Mm-hmm.” Cordelia moaned moving against her, pliant, supple in her arms. “Oh yes…that’s it…take control…mmm…make me suck your tongue…mmmm-mmmm-mmmmffffmmm…”
Dayna used her other hand to cup her face. Holding her chin she stared into Cordelia’s her eyes.
“Take control?” she asked musing, still fondling the younger woman’s bottom before she plunged her tongue into Cordy's mouth again, muffling the young brunette.
The older brunette was on fire, between her legs there was a flood of molten desire and her heart raced. She felt light headed, exhilarated. Her nipples were hard against rounded orbs of the younger woman’s large, firm breasts.
After a few minutes Dayna would have been quite happy to ravish the younger woman where they stood but the appeal of a warm bed for the sultry, willing young body was too tempting.
She broke the kiss but did not release her. Her hand continued to squeeze controlling her hips, making them roll against her. Her other hand moved behind her neck to hold her head still.
“Oh G-goddess…y-you’re good at this…” Cordelia panted. “A natural…you sure you’ve not got a harem of slave girls chained up at your place? All waiting to be spanked?”
Dayna grinned. “No – no harem,” she said. “Just a bed that I want you in…”
“Hufff…o-ok…” Cordelia panted. “Sounds good…not that I wouldn’t love being one of your Harem girls for a night or two…tied to that bed of yours…alongside one of your other girls…helpless while you fuck us…sharing your pussy …” Her eyes sparkled.
“Oh my…” Dayna had groaned answering Cordy’s hips with her own. “And you say I’m good at this?”
Cordelia gave her a dirty look. “Yeah well I’m a slut…I’ve had practice – a lot of practice…”
“Oh yes? Have you indeed?”
“Mm-hmm,” the young brunette nodded with a grin. “Well I went through high school on my back…or my knees…ate my first pussy at 14!” she said proudly. “It’s how I made the cheer-squad!”
“Mmm…you’re a very *slutty* girl…” Dayna’s eyes were heavy with lust. She took a handful of shining dark brown hair and she pulled back to expose her neck lowering her mouth to suck on her pulse point.
“Ohh gohhhdddd…yuh-you’re good!”
“And you’re bad…”
“You better spank me then…”
“Oh I’m going to!”
If Dayna had stopped to consider what she was doing for a moment she would have undoubtedly lost her nerve but something caused her to rush headlong, drawing the young brown haired waitress with her.
She’d bundled Cordy into a cab before falling upon her on the back seat, instinct taking over, guiding her hands in almost forgotten moves over her yielding, quivering body. Vaguely recalling how Marie had like to be kissed here, like that…how Katrina had moaned when she was touched there…and there…how Tracey had responded when instructed, ordered, what to do; she had explored the younger woman’s body.
Despite the wide eyed taxi driver Cordelia’s legs had parted easily, her short skirt sliding up around her hips as the older woman parted her nether lips to probe her core. Her breasts freed from her shirt her nipples peaked easily as Dayna pinched them. Moaning she sucked again on her soon to be lover’s tongue.
Dayna pushed a handful of bills into the driver’s grasp, not bothering to even check how much tip she had left, though there was little doubt that the driver would have been quite happy to waive both tip and fare in order to take them further.
Stumbling up the path, her lips locked with the younger woman’s, her hands wandering insistently over her body they reached the front door. Dayna fumbled for her keys, her hands shaking with excitement as Cordelia hung on her lips.
Opening the door she drove Cordy into the hallway and letting it close behind she wasted no more time.
“Oh…Ms Penshaw wh-what are you doing?” Cordelia asked coyly as the older woman pulled at the waitress’ blouse, yanking it off her shoulders down her arms. Cordelia let it rest behind her at her wrists, as if her hands were tied behind her back as the older woman pushed down her already half un-done front fastened bra after it. Her skirt was still bunched at her hips.
“Got…to get you…naked…” she panted,
“Oh no… please…Ms Penshaw…” Cordy breathed with a knowing smirk. Her eyes twinkled. She fluttered her lashes at the older woman. “Wh-what are you going to do to me?” she stammered.
It was an act – they both knew it – but there was something real about it as well. They both knew what was happening – and what they *wanted* to happen. They were both gripped by their desires.
Dayna’s reply was wordless and she almost growled with desire and Cordelia moaned and shuddered visibly, her breasts heaving.
The older brunette ran her hand up her belly to squeeze the generous globes.
“Ohhhh…ohhh…” Cordelia moaned. There was little pretence about her moans now. “Ohhh…Ms Penshaw…y-you’re not going to hurt me are you Ms Penshaw?”
“Be quiet honey,” Dayna had growled softly. “You knew what you were getting into…I warned you that I’m going to spank you!”
“Ohhh….p-please Miss…” Cordy arched her back pressing her breasts into the other woman’s hands. Her nipples were like hard, fat nuggets against Dayna’s fingertips. “Owww…” she whimpered as Dayna pinched her nubs hard. “Ohh…owwwchuhhh p-please…please don’t hurt me Ms Penshaw…”
“Too late honey…I’m going to *fuck* you later but first…” Dayna grated, grinding herself against the helpless seeming younger woman. She was no longer the same woman she had been a few hours ago. All semblance of nervousness – of the self-doubt that those long ago failures had left her with; the sense that she couldn’t do this, couldn’t have this beautiful young woman at her mercy – had gone, sloughed away by the fierce heat of her lustful desires.
She released the younger woman to circle quickly behind her, running her right hand down to her bare bottom while the other hand continued to fondle her breasts.
“First, I’m going to spank this slutty ass…” she said and now certain in herself she found the easy confidence to bring her hand down in a hard spank against the rounded shape of Cordy’s bottom. There was a sharp *snack* sound.
The spank made the younger woman’s bottom jiggle a little and forced the breath from her.
“Ohhh…oh g-gooooohhhd!” Cordy breathed.
A faint pinkish mark appeared on her soft flesh and Dayna spanked her again.
“Ohhh-ooooh!” Cordy moaned. “Ohh…ohhh…owww…ahhh!”
A flurry of spanks made her buttocks bounce and blush.
“Ohhh…p-please Miss…ohhh…ohh…owwwww!”
“Come on Cordelia,” Dayna said briskly. Delighted, enjoying Cordy’s reaction her confidence growing further all the time she let a little iron into her voice. “Get your slutty ass over here…and across my knee girl!” Command came easily to her it seemed, as she pointed Cordelia towards the settee.
“Y-yes Ms Penshaw…r-right away…owww…owww…owwwwch…ahhhhh!” Cordelia replied gasping, crying out as the older woman spanked her to encourage her into motion. “Owww…ohhh…oh h-hurts Miss…owww…”
“Not as much as it’s going to girl…your ass is going to be on fire when I’ve finished with it Cordelia!” Dayna’s hand continued to rain down fierce, fiery spanks, fuelling the growing fire of Cordy’s bottom as the pink blush darkened to lush rose, making Dayna’s palm sting in turn. The sensation thrilled her. It was like a reflection of the younger woman’s burgeoning pain; an intimate, sensual, sharing of the experience.
“Now…*spank*…get…*spank*…over…*spank*…my knee…*spank*…
“Owww…ahhh…ohhhhh!” Cordy cried, subsiding to drape herself across the older woman’s lap as Dayna wrestled her into position. “Owwww…owwww…oh Miss…ouuuch…ahhhhhh!” Cordelia’s legs had kicked as Dayna spanked her. There was no acting now. Sliding into submission she became completely subservient, receptive to the other woman’s domination and as her bottom suffered, darker hues blossoming under the tirade of wicked spanks, tears welled and began to flow.
The younger woman had thrilled to the rapidly mounting authority of her new lover and as the hurt sharpened, her buttocks suffering, she had slipped into an ecstatic sub-space.
“Ohhhhh…oh n-n-n-nohhhhh….nahhhhh…ahhhwwwwahhh…owwwwwwchahhhh… …p-p-please Miss…owwwwoooooohhhhhhhh!”
Dayna, it seemed, had a natural affinity for her dominant role. When she needed to she had hooked a leg over the back Cordelia’s knees to control her kicking and she had controlled her tossing head with one hand bunched at the base of her skull, forming a pony-tail of her chestnut and auburn tresses hardly pausing the tirade of spanks she rained down on the suffering young waitress’ behind. And at last, when Cordelia had had enough, when she was ready for the older woman to finally bed her, the older woman had somehow known intuitively and her hand had stilled. Fascinated, wrapt she sampled the heat of Cordy’s bottom exploring the florid suffering of her gloriously firm spread before dipping her fingers into the sweat, liquid heat of the receptive lovemouth below.
“Ohhhh…ohh…ooooooooofffhhhhnnnnn…” Cordy groaned, tightening blissfully as she pushed back against the penetration.
It was signal enough for Dayna and she helped the sobbing young brunette up from her lap.
Urgent now – more consumed with passion and desire than she had ever known she took the younger woman in her arms again, claiming her mouth before she hurried up the stairs to her bed as she had promised she would.
There the young brunette was all yielding sensuality, wanton and obedient as she lay back, spreading herself; offering her deepest most intimate places to her new lover’s avid, rapacious explorations before servicing her in turn with sinful skill that left Dayna first electrified with unimaginable pleasure then incapacitated in an excess of bliss as she crashed, breathless, into a gyring abyss of orgasm.
They had made love over and again, all night, she told Joyce, with Cordelia showing her ever more exotic pleasures first urging the older woman to finger her ass until she came again before returning the favour with her tongue; licking Dayna’s rosebud before they collapsed together in the cold light of dawn.
Later, Cordelia had told Dayna about herself; how much she liked her life. Her relationship with Anya was certainly atypical, but it undeniably worked for them. She knew how unusual it was for two submissives to be able to maintain a happy, successful life together without a domme but it allowed them to enjoy the best of all worlds. Their relationship was far from exclusive and both of them had numerous other lovers, both regular and casual. Earlier that night she’d seen her girlfriend disappearing out into the alley in back of the club with Ling and Satsu Woo; the younger woman’s hand on Anya’s ass. She had shared that, later, she and Anya would compare notes, sharing every intimate detail, every stinging spank and shuddering thrust; as they made love together with a passion reserved only for each other.
With a sly grin Dayna had observed that she would have to work hard to ensure that Cordy’s notes compared well and the young brunette’s eyes had fluttered.
“You needn’t worry about *that* ma’am…” Cordy had breathed softly, her lips covering the cap of Dayna’s breast.

“I feel like a new woman.” Dayna had crowed. Joyce could hear the heat of her friend’s passion even down the telephone line and her body tightened, responding to Dayna’s heated account with an answering warmth of her own.
“Are you going to see her again then?” she asked.
There was a pause.
“Again?” her friend replied moments later. There was something wicked in her tone and she chuckled. It was an unmistakeably a dirty laugh. “What makes you think I’ve let her leave?”
Suddenly Joyce realised there was something else to Dayna’s voice than merely heated memory.
“You’ve got her there with you haven’t you?” Joyce said smiling.
“Mmm-hmmm…mmmm…I have indeed Joyce…ohhhh…ohhhfffuhhhckkk…”
“Dayna – you are…you’re fucking her *now* aren’t you?” Joyce asked with a breathy squeak.
“Mm-hmm…well sort of… I’m sitting on the pretty little thing’s face…and she has a *very* clever tongue…oooohhh…ohhhhhh…oh that’s a good girl Cordy! Ohhh…oh yes…oh right there…mmmm…yesssss…”
“Oh – lucky girl…I love it when Faith queens me like that!”
“Of course you do Joyce…a good little slut like you…mmmm….nnnuhhh…y-y-yuh-yessss…ohhh…ohhh gohhhd yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Ohhhhhhhhhh!”
Joyce groaned down the phone. “Oh fuck…oh that’s hot Dayna…oh god Faith is going to have to spank me *so hard* again tonight when she gets home…ohhh…oh my…” she panted softly as she listened in on her friend’s climax. “Fuck…ohh fuck *me*! I really wish I was allowed to play with myself…”

Joyce made sure that there were no delays in her return home that night. She closed the Gallery at 4.30 promptly and was home by 5.00.
By 5.30 she had showered and changed into the pale cream baby-doll with pink roses picked out to trim it that Faith had selected for the previous night. It had a matching thong that sat low on her hips with a frilled pelmet. Her bottom still bore the striped evidence of her caning and there were fading marks where her breasts and thighs had been whipped. Her sex ached but of its abuse there was no visible evidence.
She looked at herself, feeling undeniably sexy and smiled before settling to wait for her lover’s return.
Listening in on her friend’s sexual antics earlier had left her even more turned on than usual. But she had been wrong about her lover’s plans for the evening. Faith did not spank her at all. It was as if the intensity of the night before had exhausted both of them, draining the appetite for harsh domination.
Instead the younger woman was tender when she made love to her, baring her with hands so gentle it might have been hard to believe they had been so cruel the previous night. Once stripped, the baby-doll a pool of gossamer at Joyce’s feet, Faith’s hands swept her body, over breasts and belly and bottom; soft where another time they had been harsh, spanking, pinching. They were gentle, subtle, lavishing her with blissful sensations. And yet, still, she controlled her; slowly drawing up her rising pleasure, making her wanton, her body yielding and supple, liquid with desire and sensuality. And though her young lover’s kisses, too, were tender they were hot, ardent, demanding with urgent passion; taking Joyce’s breath away yet again. And instead of taking her to bed Faith was impatient, laying her down on the floor to part her willing thighs.
The young brunette’s tongue was skilled as always between the lush, liquid flesh of Joyce’s nether lips, making her gasp, moaning; bringing her slowly, inexorably to her crest so the warm flush of her orgasm uncoiled inside her spreading throughout her body like wildfire until she tightened, arching, quaking to leave her languid and exhausted but filled with love and belonging and surrender.
Then with their favourite dildo Faith took her again, sinking the phallus into her core so her back arched and her legs circled the young domme’s waist, her ankles crossing behind her ass and their breasts pressed together, slapping together gently as the rhythm of her lover’s thrusting built.
Later when Joyce had recovered, Faith did take her to bed at last and they made love again. Faith above her, their legs scissored, they moved together intimately joined until they came as one, clit against clit, their vulva fused, kissing; their pooling juices blending, mingling and they shared their pleasure.
Lying in her lover’s arms Joyce felt complete, immured in Faith, immersed, drenched with submission. It was as if the gentleness of the young woman’s loving had earned a new completion of her surrender.
“Everything you do keeps me in my place…” she whispered. “Even when you make love to me like that…you make me feel like I belong to you…like I’m precious…like your treasure…”
“You are precious Sweetness,” Faith replied stroking her hair. “You are my treasure…”
“Mmmm… Faith darling…I love that I belong to you…and I know it with all my heart…you make me feel so…submissive…and you make my submission feel so…real…so complete…so absolute…I’m yours…all of me…yours…I’m your sub…your bottom…your *whore*…”
“Joyce…” Faith whispered with answering passion of her own and she tightened her embrace making the older woman moan.
***
Chapter 4: In flagrante…delicto

And so the changes in Joyce continued to grow ever deeper by the day. She could no longer remember a life in which she was not Faith’s. She felt complete, content, joyous in her subordination. Yes she still wept, answering Faith’s frequent punishments with tears; she pleaded and begged promising obedience and servitude, but she gave herself to every demand her lover made with the willing, fervid passion of the true submissive. And though, when Faith made a show of her, forcing her yet again discard her underwear, to expose herself; compelling lewd displays; demanding her public submission in bars, restaurants and movie theatres; ravishing her in restrooms and changing rooms and other public places, she still blushed cringing; and she doubted that would ever change. And yet she found a deep fulfilment and blissful pleasure in her humiliation.
It was as if submission made her whole.
And her sexuality, so long set in grey tedium was fixed now – set on a new track; a Sapphic course that filled her heart and soul with sensual passion and erotic joy.
It had become easy to let people see who she now was.
Only Buffy seemed to remain oblivious to the changes that had been wrought upon her mother. Joyce saw little of her older daughter. The young blonde woman seemed to be adrift, moving from bed to bed, from one brief, loveless liaison to another seeking something she could not name, would not admit. A rare visitor to 1630 Revello Drive she was lost in her own troubles. She did not notice – or perhaps she did not want to see – the increasingly overt signs of the new direction her mother’s life had taken.
And it was that direction, the open adoption of her new life that Joyce, on her lover’s arm through the doors of Sunnydale’s notorious lesbian, leather bar and strip-club, The Butterfly Cage.
On their first visit Joyce had not known where to look as fascination and awkward, lascivious interest warred with embarrassment to flush her cheeks. The first time Faith had bought her a lap-dance she had nearly fainted with shame.
She had soon, however, come to enjoy having the attractive younger woman gyrate over her lap realising quickly that her reaction was the similar to when she and Faith watched lesbian porn – a sense of deep, sinful sexual arousal; a certainty that it was wrong despite how much she wanted it. It highlighted for her how much she had come to respond to the sight of sexy, naked women and portrayals of Sapphic love; how it intensified her now overpowering desire for kinky lesbian sex.
It was a simple message – she had to now admit what she was; what she had become – embracing the new sexuality that Faith had reprogrammed her to feel. By forcing her submission, Faith had changed who she was at a fundamental level and she had come to accept the direction her newly enhanced libido.

“Hi…what’s your name sweet thing?” the scantily clad young blonde had said archly as she clambered to straddle the lusting Joyce, leaning over her.
Her body moved; sinuous and sexual.
“J-Joyce,” she stammered, moved by the closeness of the deliciously supple body.
“Hi Joyce…I’m Glory…some ladies call me Glory Holes…” the stripper’s brows waggled suggestively and she leaned in closer to breathe in Joyce’s ear continuing. “…’cos once my panties come off…and my legs open for them….”
Joyce groaned, her sex aching.
The scent of Glory’s flesh was sweet and musky; heady. Her breasts were close to Joyce’s face.
Her eyes fluttered as their rounded flesh filled her vision.
“You wanna see the girls don’t you Joyce? I know that look…mmmm?” the young woman’s hands slid up her body to sweep over her breasts, lifting them, pushing them in before letting them bounce.
“Ohhhmmm,” Joyce breathed softly, moaning. “Y-y-yessss…” she sighed and the stripper’s bra seemed to vanish and her breasts bounced gently; young and supple, pert; her nipples stiffly erect in dark saucers. They were pierced with silver rings.
“Ohhhh…ohhhhhmmmmmpphhhh…” she moaned as the stripper drew her face down between her boobs as she moved against her face.
“Ohh you *like* that don’t you Joyce baby…you a tit girl sweetie? Hmmm?”
Flushed, breathing deep Joyce looked up into the stripper’s eyes. She bit her lip.
“M-maybe…” she said nervously.
“No…I don’t think you are; are you Joyce? Maybe it’s ass for you baby?” The stripper turned around to lean forwards, pushing her tight, firm ass towards Joyce. Her buttocks, swayed, rolling, muscled but feminine. Her neon blue thong was a bright band between her taut cheeks.
She hitched backwards to grind her ass in Joyce’s lap.
“Ohh…fuhhhhck…” Joyce gasped, feeling her hips respond like she was about to be fucked.
“Mmmmm….oh you *are* an ass girl aren’t you? Mmmm…that’s it baby…that’s my dirty girl Joyce!” Glory purred. “Are you hot baby? Is your pussy wet? Mmmm? I know I am! Oh I’m dripping for you Joyce…”
“Oh gohhhhhd…” She felt a trickle between her legs and she whimpered in reply. “Ohhhhh…s-so wet.”
“Oh good girl Joyce…you are a horny girl aren’t you? You know I just *love* lap dancing Joyce…I *really* want to get naked for you…would you like that Joyce? Mmmm…I’m sure you would…”
“Ohhh…y-yes…p-please…” Joyce panted.
“Oh – and so polite sweetie….you know I get so wet dancing for a good looking woman like yourself…wanna see baby?”
Joyce had gurgled softly; nodding. “Y-y-yes…” she managed to pant as the heat between her legs became a raging fire.
It had of course been another lesson – one she looked back on with pleasure – as Glory had un-snapped the side clip of her micro g-string to peel it from between her legs before spreading her ass cheeks and bending to let Joyce see the truth of her words.
Her asshole had been a pretty pink rosebud inviting Joyce’s tongue and below that her sex had glistened pink, delicious, tempting. She could smell the sweet perfume of her arousal. Club rules or not Joyce had been certain that it was only her lover’s presence beside her, watching with hunger and amusement, that prevented her from plunging her face between Glory’s cheeks.
The stripper had repositioned herself astride her again. A tiny bar of brown-blonde fuzz pointed downwards. Her fingers eased back her flesh to expose her little pink bud before she lowered herself to grind, leaving a wet stain on Joyce’s bare thigh.
“Ohhh I’d *love* to take you upstairs baby…” she purred breathy in Joyce’s ear. “So I could lick your pussy…mmmm…suck your clit…” her eyes rolled and she licked her lips “But then Faith would just so kick my ass…” she looked wryly across at the smiling Faith. “And then spank yours *so* hard…so…” she tilted her head smiling, pouting. “You’ll just have to imagine…” She bent to brush a ghost of a kiss across her lips as she finished the dance gyrating, leaning over the electrified Joyce. “Mmmm…oh Buffy’s mom-mmmmm!” she breathed in Joyce’s ear, much to the older woman’s surprise. “Oh so cute…such hot MILF…just *so* hot!” Then with a wink, she was gone, picking up her discarded bra and panties to walk away naked with a cocky sway of her hips.
Joyce felt as if she was about to melt.
“You like that sweetness?” Faith asked, her lips close to her ear, cleared moved. Her voice was breathy, husky as well; heavy with her own arousal from witnessing Joyce’s response.
“Oh-ohhh…y-yes,” Joyce panted in reply and then her face creased into a sort of frown. “B-but how did she know who I am…sh-she said I was Buffy’s mom…”
Faith smiled. “Yeah…well…y’see Glory went to Sunnydale High…with me an B’…”
“But I knew all Buffy’s friends Faith…you and Willow and Cordelia and Amy and Harmony…I never knew a Glory…”
Faith shrugged her smile a little crooked. “Yeah well Glory’s her stripper name – she was Courtney back then…and B an’ her…well they weren’t exactly friends! You see Courtney – well she had a *total* crush on you Sweetness.”
Joyce blushed once again. “Oh my…” she said. “S-she had a *crush*…o-on *me*?”
“Well yeah I mean we *all* crushed on you Sweetness! Me, Willow, Harmony, Kimberly and Torrance …
“Oh…g-gosh…I-I n-never new…a-all of you?”
Faith nodded. “Yep…but Courtney – man she had it *bad*…that girl just *perved* on you all the time…always going on about how much she wanted to lick your pussy…every time you dropped B off at school all she would do was moan how badly she wanted to fuck you…she even asked B to steal some of your worn panties for her…man it used to just piss B off so bad!”
Joyce blushed, pulling a face. “Oh my!”
“Yeah – she had it *bad* for you Sweetness and now you’re mine and she knows you’re a dyke – and she knows she still can’t have you…poor twink – must be killing her…when she saw us together she came and asked – begged if she could dance for you. It was like she was still *dying* to get close to you!”
“Ohhh…oh my…”
“So I *knew* she would be perfect for your first dance…I knew she work her ass off to turn you on…and it worked didn’t it babe?”
Joyce nodded her head spinning.
“Y-yes darling…”
Faith grinned and she added. “And she was right about something else – I *would* kick her skanky ass if she tried to get to you!”
Joyce looked at her girlfriend, eyes wide. “Y-you would?” she asked suddenly feeling a rush of adoration for the younger woman and the brunette nodded in reply. Joyce knew it was foolish but Faith’s words made her feel both protected and possessed at the same time. They made her feel like a teenager again.
“Of course I would Sweetness…you belong to me babe – you know that. I mean, I *love* it when other chicks hit on you – gets you so antsy – so horny – but I know you wouldn’t spread for any of them…”
“Oh…g-gosh Faith…n-no I-I w-wouldn’t…I-I *do* belong to you…all of me…all of my body…all my *fuck-holes*…” she leaned into her lover’s arms offering her mouth to the young woman.
“Mmmm…good girl…” Faith purred a moment later, the taste of Joyce’s lips on her tongue. “But besides Glory’s doing ok…”
She looked across to where Glory was talking to a tall, impressive looking dark-skinned woman.
“And my kicking her ass would be the least of her troubles if she stepped out on her girlfriend…” she continued as the black woman put a possessive arm around the still naked stripper, kissing her hard. “That’s Serena – she’s Kendra’s sister,” Faith gave Joyce a wry look before she carried on. “She loves dating a strippers!” She put her head on one side as she looked back at Joyce. “Got to say I kinda like the idea myself…”
Joyce shuddered as Faith’s look became intent.
***

Intermezze
“Come on cutie…up straight…”
“Oh…oh…ohhh…I-I’m trying Kennedy…oooohhh!”
The olive skinned girl pulled up on the slender red head’s top-knot, making her strain upwards before she spanked her still pantied bottom.
“Oh! Oh! Ow! Owwch!” Willow cried, her feet in their white ankle socks twitching, kicking in a painful dance.
“That’s right…oh that’s nice cutie…” Tara purred from the other side. “Good girl!”
“Ohh-owww! Oh T-Tara…ow p-please!” Willow cried out as the other girl took a bunched handful of her panties to pull them upwards so they slipped like a thong, tight, between her cheeks. “Ooooooooohhhchhahhhh!”
“That’s right cutie…up high Will…up on your tippy toes baby-girl…” Tara urged as she began to spank the red head from the other side.
“Ohhh! Ohh! Ow! Ow! Oww! Owww! Ahhhhh!” she cried as her two lovers began to spank her in a rhythm of alternating strokes; Kennedy warming her left buttock Tara spanking her on the right.
Her pale flesh turned rapidly from delicate pink to deep rose and then to blazing red.
“Oh that’s nice…matches your hair cutie!” Kennedy crooned happily.
“Ahh! Ahhh! Oww! Ow-owwwwwchhhahhhh!” Willow cried, sobbing now in response.
“Mmmm…so pretty baby…” Tara said softly as she spanked lower, down onto the red head’s thigh and Kennedy followed suit making the pitch of her cries rise.
“Noooooohhhh…ohh! Oh! Oh! Ahhh! Aiyyyyyeeecchhh!”
“You like that don’t you cutie?” Kendra asked, her voice hot with passion, her taut breasts heaving. “You like being spanked don’t you Will?”
“Ohhhh…oh…n-n-nohhh-owwww…noooo…ahhh…ahhh…ahhhhyyyyuh-yuh-y-yes K-Kennedy…yesss…ahh! Ohh yes! Ohhhh! Owwwww!”
“Mmmm…oh what a bad little girl…” Tara said pulling tighter on her panties, spanking her bottom again.
“A *dirty* little girl!” Kennedy added moving to spank the front of her thigh now. “Aren’t you cutie?”
“Oh-owwwwwww-owowowow! Ahhh!”
“Y-yes Kennedy…ah-ah-a d-dirty little girl! Owww!”
“How’s it make you feel dirty girl?” Kennedy asked.
Neither of Willow’s girlfriends ceased the painful rhythm of their hands as Tara switched now to the front of her right thigh.
“Oww…oh! Oh! Oh! Owwwwchhh!” the red head cried, almost skipping. Her slim, high breasts bounced. “Oh…h-h-horny…oww…p-p-please…ahhh…”
“Please what cutie?” Tara asked.
“P-p-please Tara…ohh sp-spank m-my pussy…please…”
“Your *pussy* cutie? Like *that* *cutie*…on *your* *wet* *little* *pussy*?” Tara punctuated each word with a spank that landed below her belly on the tender flesh of her sex. “Oh you are *such* a dirty girl!”
“Ohhh! Oh! Y-yes…oww…owww…such a d-dirty girl…ow…ow…owchuhhh-owww…owwwwahhhhhh!” Willow cried.
A little later Willow knelt, her panties now stretched between her ankles; her head beneath Tara’s skirt. Hot pink marred the flesh of her bottom and thighs. Between her slender legs her folds were fat and wet, her arousal sheening her thighs with desire. In the dark beneath Tara’s skirt her tongue scraped up the taut silken flesh of Tara’s panties tracing the contours of her lover’s lovelips and she sucked the silken sheath hungry for her flavour.
Tara moved gently against her, thrusting, her thighs tight around the scarlet mane of her submissive’s head.
Kennedy dripped lube onto Willow’s up-turned rectum. It was cold between the heat of her raging butt cheeks and she shivered. Her rosebud fluttered and seemed to wink as her olive skinned lover’s finger circled her knot loosening it slowly, gently working the lube into her taut ring of flesh.
“Ooooohhh-ooooohmmmmpppppffffffhhhhh!” she moaned as she felt the dildo’s head against her anus, pressing slowly, inexorably past the resting noose, penetrating her secret, once forbidden mouth; sinking into her, violating her; filling her with raw, wanton, agonising pleasure.
***

For Joyce and Faith visits to the Butterfly Cage became part of the normal routine of their date nights. Sometimes they visited Pink Tango to dance and flirt and indulge themselves, with Faith making an exhibition of Joyce. At other times they drank beer at Reggies socialising with Kendra and her various girlfriends while Joyce hung, dressed like trailer trash on Faith’s arm. There also were more visits to the back-row of the local move theatre that usually ended in the restrooms and they also frequented restaurants and art galleries even sporting events with Joyce discovering an unexpected interest in women’s soccer – or at least in the players.
Not long after their first visit to the Cage Faith had casually mentioned that she’d like to see Joyce strip for her. Embarrassed at the prospect, the mature, golden haired woman had needed a little persuasion, but a warmed bottom had convinced her to rethink her objections to performing for her lover’s entertainment.
It was not as if the younger woman hadn’t seen every intimate inch of her from every angle Joyce could imagine. Her rational self told her that there was no difference from the way she dressed for her returning lover every night and yet it had felt different as she had swayed and jiggled to the music, unfastening her bra and sliding her panties over her hips before continuing to dance, exposing herself, opening her legs, spreading her pussy lips; bending to part her butt cheeks and display her secret, knotted little fuck-hole.
Despite her compliance Joyce had felt considerable doubt, moving awkwardly at first feeling a keen sense of embarrassment as she danced, trying to look sexy as she shed her clothes to the music.
However Faith *had* undoubtedly enjoyed it, lying sprawled on their bed, watching avidly while her hand moved in her jeans; and afterwards her lovemaking had been especially vigorous as if to prove it.
Somehow, despite her initial doubts, Joyce had begun to find herself quite enjoying it as well.
Unfortunately, though probably quite predictably for Joyce, what might have started as a just another sexual game had quickly coalesced, firming into a clear plan on Faith’s part. And though she had rather known it was coming, she was however, considerably less than convinced by her lover’s subsequent observation that she thought Joyce ready to go on stage the next time they visited the Cage. Pointing out that it wasn’t as if displays of public nudity were *entirely* strange to Joyce did little to assuage her sense of panic. This, Faith explained, was just tasking it a step further.
‘Besides,’ she said. ‘You’re getting really good at it Sweetness.’
And so, on their next date night visit to the Butterfly Cage they had, much to Joyce’s chagrin, made an arrangement for her to perform the following week.
She had then spent the entire week both panicking about the prospect of her public display and practicing, repeatedly – embarrassingly – the routine that Faith had devised for her; a routine that seemed to emphasise her maturity, playing up the slutty housewife look that Faith loved.
Eventually she was ready and she found herself shaking with nerves – even with a large shot of Dutch courage – in the wings of the club’s small stage. She watched, barely registering as a sexy young woman who Joyce vaguely recognised, as a former school-friend of Buffy’s, slowly stripped for the appreciative audience. The club had only one rule – that all dancers go all the way, showing everything – and as she coyly, seductively shed her clothes until her panties – an acid green lycra g-string – were last to go, Joyce finally remembered her name as Gwen. And despite her own nervous fugue she felt an unmistakeable stirring as the young blonde haired woman peeled off her underwear to expose the pink pout of her sex with its tiny tuft of close trimmed fair curls.
“Mmmm…” she found herself purring to herself in delight, licking her lips as she gazed at the evidently natural blonde. “Pretty pussy…”
The club’s regular ‘Show us your Girlfriends’ nights always attracted the largest crowds to the main stage to witness each others girlfriends and wives stripping and as usual the audience were noisily appreciative shouting and hollering as Gwen spread her legs, smiling cutely, coyly, seductively at the audience as if to offer herself to the greedy throng. Joyce found herself wondering as she watched, if Gwen was dancing to please a lover and if so who the lucky woman was.
When Gwen came off stage, slipping past her, Joyce soon found out as the naked young blonde rushed happily into the arms of a waiting dark haired woman.
She frowned striving to get a better look at the familiar looking olive-skinned woman as her hands wondered the naked frame of the erstwhile stripper. Kissing her deeply she moved out of the shadow cast by the lighting in the club and as the younger woman seemed to subside into her companion’s arms, moulding her nakedness to her, moving against her in a way Joyce recognised too well – a way that told of wanton desire – she recognised Jenny Calendar, formerly Buffy’s and now Dawn’s high-school teacher.
She found herself staring as Ms Calendar’s hand moved to Gwen’s neck and she hurried her away toward a shadow filled booth in the back of the room.
But Joyce had no more time to follow them though as at that moment the call came to summon her on stage.
Her own routine passed smoothly enough, though she shook continuously throughout; a strange sense of freedom combining with nervous terror to become heady arousal. But she got through ‘I’m the Only One’ by Melissa Etheridge slowly removing her dress; stripping to her underwear before strutting and swaying in her bra, panties, garters and hose. Then bending and pouting and posing she moved with all the sensuality her relationship with Faith had taught her, through the first half of Nina Simone’s ‘I Put a Spell on You’, before slowly beginning to shed her underwear. First she eased off her bra, baring her breasts to cheers from the audience. Her nipples hard like pebbles and she pinched them staring out at he audience, her eyes filled with arousal. In the throng she could see her lover; her eyes dark, avid, hungry on her; her face writ with pride and desire. Joyce concentrated on Faith as she plucked her nipples again, licking her lips before blowing her a kiss before she eased her panties over her hips to slip them slowly down her legs letting them slide to her ankles to let the crowd enjoy he sight of her freshly shaved pussy. In just her stockings, garters and heels she sank to her knees to lean back spreading her legs, opening her sex with her fingers to expose the dark pink of her core and the hard, peaking pearl of her clitoris, for the noisy, horny audience.
Again she found Faith’s eyes and she pinched her button, making her hips buck as her core spasmed and she mouthed ‘this is yours’ at her hazy eyed lover and as she did so she couldn’t really tell if she was drowning in a flood humiliation or floating on a euphoric sea of sexual aroused.
As the music finished the applause began and soon a wave of cheering, clapping appreciation swept over her Holding her position a little longer she now found herself blushing again – but no longer from embarrassment so much as from surprise at the wall of sound.
The older woman shook, rising to bow to her audience with a shy grin.
In the middle of the crowd Faith stood cheering and clapping with the rest. Holding Joyce’s eye she said something that might have been ‘I need to fuck you!’ but her words were drowned out by noise.
Her heart racing, she grinned deeply. Feeling a rush of adrenalin and endorphins through her she recognised the surge of sexual need that she had witnessed as her predecessor had left the stage. Picking up her panties she moved towards the edge of the stage to toss them towards her lover.
Faith snatched them out of the air from among a clutch of reaching hands in triumph before lifting them to her face to inhale the sweet, humid perfume that permeated them. Her eyes were avid on Joyce as she lowered her hand and passed the tiny scrap of material to her dark-skinned friend beside her who took them with lusty glee to sample the scent of Joyce’s sweat and musk before holding them to the face of the confused, looking mature red head who hung, nervously, on her arm.
From there Joyce’s panties were passed swiftly around and they disappeared into the crowd but she didn’t care; let them sample to aroma of her wanton desire; let them appreciate the sluttish musk. She was Faith’s whore and she didn’t care who knew that she would do anything, *anything* her lover wanted her to, no matter what it was. Her young dark haired top’s eyes were still on her and she was already at the edge of the stage. She held up a hand to help Joyce down and into her arms.
“Fuck Sweetness,” she rasped. “That was amazing. Can you *hear* them baby?”
“Oh yes Faith…oh darling…” Joyce breathed in response. Trembling, writhing in Faith’s arms she let Faith claim her mouth.
“Mmmm…you looked amazing…so hot…so dirty…up there showing off your stuff like that…letting everyone see what a tramp you are…making all those girls want to fuck you…mmmmm…and I reckon you enjoyed it didn’t you Sweetness?”
“Mmmm…mmmm…mmmmmfff…” Grinding herself up and down Faith’s thigh she felt the familiar long, fat bulge of her lover’s strap-on against her and Joyce moaned around her lover’s tongue. “Ohhhmmmnnn yes…oh yes darling…mmm…it was…mmmm…so hot…so *dirty*…showing myself off like that…like a slut…mmmmfff…getting naked for them…so everyone could see my pussy…my wet, sticky pussy…”
“Mmmmm….” Faith responded, sweeping her tongue around Joyce’s willing mouth, swallowing her pleas. “That’s my girl…I *knew* you’d make a great stripper Joyce…you *know* you’re gonna be doing that again soon don’t you?”
“Ohh…ohh yes darling…I know I am…”
“How did it make you feel Sweetness?”
“Mmmm-m-made me feel sexy darling…horny…like a tramp…like a bad girl…mmmmffff… …mmmm-mmmm….mmmm…oh p-please Faith…t-take mmmmmphhh…t-take mmm-m-me home…take me home and spank me hard…punish me…like a bad girl should be punished…mmmmnnn…y-you should c-cane me darling…”
“Cane you?” Faith said her eyebrow rising in surprise. “You *hate* the cane Sweetness!”
It was true, Joyce did hate the cane. Faith used it generally to punish her for real – like the time she’d been home late after going out with Dayna; or when Kate Lockley had brought her home after stopping her for running yet another a red light. Of course her traffic violation barely merited the blonde police officer’s further attention but Joyce had realised in hindsight that the police officer and Faith were friends and her presence, at Faith’s invitation, to witness her subsequent caning made her punishment doubly distressing.
It hadn’t even spared her a ticket.
“Mmmm…y-yes…I know…b-but now…I’m ready for anything…please…c-cane me…a-and then bone me…mm-mmm…fuck me hard…fuck me again and again…mmmmppphhh…in all of my holes…stretch my dirty, slutty fuck-holes darling… mmmnnnnfff…make me scream…pound my cunt…slam my ass…and make me suck your dildo clean… like a whore…like your *dirty* old whore Faith…mmm-mmmmm…please Faith…”
“Sounds good Sweetness but no…”
Joyce looked at her lover in shock.
“No? Sorry baby…d-don’t you want to do me?” Joyce looked shocked, a little hurt, rejected.
“No Sweetness…of course I do…” Faith interrupted, shaking her head. She put a finger on Joyce’s lips, hushing her. “But I have a better idea. I’m not going to take you home Joyce…but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to bone you…come on Sweetness…”
She pulled a confused Joyce away from where they stood and she spanked her bottom – three sharp, hard spanks to encourage her – as she did so making the shuddering lust ridden woman moan, driving her across the club towards a door down the side of the bar.
Around her the audience who had begun to calm cheered again as Faith spanked her.
“Oh that’s right Faith – *spank* that tramp’s ass!” A cry came from the excited throng.
“Yeah…make it *bounce* baby!”
“Make that tramp *cry* Faith!”
“Oh that slut is gonna get *fucked*!”
Joyce trembled and Faith spanked her again as if responding to the cries, though the mature, golden haired woman hardly needed the encouragement as her bottom flushed, warming under the spanks and her hips rolled, swaying in response.
“You’re a lucky girl Faith! That whore’s got a *fine* white ass! Jus’ *made* to be spanked!” Another cry came, approving. Joyce recognised Kendra’s voice.
“Wh-where are we g-going…oww…ohh-oh-ow…” Joyce asked gasping.
“You’ll see Sweetness…” Faith husked, smacking her again. “Now move your slutty ass Joyce!”
“Ohh…oh-oh-owwww-ah! Ah! Ahh! Y-yes m-ma’am…ahh…owww!” Joyce answered letting Faith’s spanks propel her down the side of the bar to a fire exit.
Faith slammed the fire exit door back into the alley wall with a bang, and Joyce, naked still but for her heels and hose lurched, stumbling, Faith’s hand swatting her ass, out into the cool night air. Her nipples responded, hardening unbearably.
Her young lover emerged behind her, spanking her again.
Quailing, crying out Joyce shivered.
“Ow…ohh…owch…ahh…oh F-Faith…darling what…ow…oww…owwwuhh…what are you…” she tried to say but the young brunette interrupted her, pulling her close now, kissing her hard.
“I’m gonna fuck you Sweetness,” she breathed hard into her mouth. “Like a *slut*…right here…right now!”
Her hand reached between them to fumble with the fasteners of her pants, opening them to pull out the bulbous strap-on cock she had packed in expectation, confident that the spectacle of Joyce stripping was going to leave them both highly aroused.
“Ohh…oh my g-gosh…” Joyce stammered. “H-here?”
The alley was filthy, piled with litter and garbage. A dark, corroded steelwork fire-escape descended down one wall.
“Yes Sweetness…*here*!” Faith answered. She pushed Joyce back against the wall. Its surface was rough against her back. “Like a slut…”
Joyce gurgled at the all too familiar emotional cocktail that assailed her, intoxicating her with arousal and fear, discomfort, pain, humiliation and sensuality. It never ceased to amaze her how sexual Faith could make her feel when she treated her like a tramp; how erotic she found it when she forced her to be her slut. It was as if being forced to submit to her demands – no matter how depraved – made her feel wanted, desired, treasured beyond anything she had ever felt.
Part of her realised this wasn’t normal; but she wanted it. She wanted more than anything; to be forced to accept her lover’s demands…the dirtier the better.
Faith spun her around, pressing her to face the wall.
The dildo pressed into the groove of her ass. It was hard. Faith’s denim clad thighs leaned into her.
“Shall I fuck your ass Sweetness?” the young woman grated. “Or your cunt?”
“Ohhh,” Joyce moaned. “Wh-whichever you want darling.”
“How ‘bout both Sweetness?”
“Ohhhh gohhhddd…i-if you want darling…”
“You’d like that wouldn’t you Joyce…getting your cunt pounded out here in the alley before I ream out your ass?”
“Mmmmunnnhhh…y-yuh-yess Faith…like a cheap whore…p-please darling…fuck me…fuck my slutty cunt…th-then pound my asshole…”
Faith moved to ease the pressure on the naked older woman. Taking a step back she slapped her ass again, hard; making her gasp, her buttocks juddering.
“C’mere Joyce,” she ordered and she pulled her by the hip so the older woman had to move her feet backwards opening a gap to the wall.
“Now bend over slut…put your hands on the wall…spread your legs…push your pussy out for it…” she grabbed a hold on Joyce’s hair and pushed her forwards, forcing her to bend, reaching forwards.
“Yes Faith…ahhh…” Joyce answered breathlessly, struggling to comply; gasping as Faith spanked her again. “L-like this darling?” she asked. She moved her feet again to open her legs, arching her back as her hands took her weight. “So you can fuck me like a bitch…like a slut…like a dirty bitch?”
The dildo was hard, its bulbous head massive against the soft nether lips that kissed it wetly.
“Unnnhhh,” she groaned as her folds parted to accept it, enveloping it; clinging to its unyielding shaft before she began to swallow it. “Ohhhhhhgggghhhh…”
“Yeah…that’s right Sweetness…” Faith growled, the dildo in her fist, guiding it deeper between Joyce’s fat, engorged lovelips. “Like a dirty, fucking bitch Joyce,” she rasped shifting her hips forward to drive the erection further into the slicked resistance of older woman’s core.
“Ohhhhhhh! Oh g-gohhhhdddd! Oh F-Faith…oh dahhhhrling…ahhhhhhh!”
Crying out Joyce shifted her hips forwards as she moved up onto her tiptoes to accept the dildo all the way into her liquid depths. Her ass was warm where she had been spanked; where Faith’s body slapped against her.
“Oh yeah…there you go…all the way inside you Sweetness…deep inside…ohhh…you’re taking it all Joyce!” Faith huffed, her voice triumphant. “Mmmm…that’s it bitch…”
Grasping Joyce’s hip now, her other hand still in her hair she eased back, withdrawing to slam the dildo back into the older woman again.
“Ooooooofffffuhhhhckkkk! Yeahhhhss…fuck me Faith dahhhrling! L-like a bitch darling…a dirty…*slutty*…bitch…oooooohhhhhffffuhhh!” Joyce cried and Faith groaned softly in response as she began to pound the mature, golden haired submissive harder.
Once again Joyce felt powerless, like a rag doll as Faith took her, dominating her.
“Ughhhnnn-uhh-uhh-uhh-uhh-ohh-ohh-ohh-ooooohhhh!!!”
Her body was a strange mixture of taut, arching need that seemed to spread out from the tight grip of her sex on the cock-shaft as her walls rippled and clenched; and weak, loose compliance; surrender, as Faith ravished her.
Her back arched tighter into a bow as her lover pulled up and back on her hair as she drove into her until only her finger tips remained on the wall to support her, bracing her against the driving thrusts.
“Unnnnnuhhh…uhhh-uhh-uh-ahh-unhh-ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh-ohh-ohhh-unnnfff-unhhh-uhh-uff-f-f-f-fuh-uh-uhh-fuh-fuhck-ahhh-ahhhh-ahhhh!”
“That’s it slut…come on…yes that’s right…mm-mmm…let me hear you Joyce…come on beg…beg for it slut…”
“Ohhh…ohhh fuck…oh F-Faith…oh p-puh-puh-please…m-my cuhnt…fuck me…ahhh…oh p-please…oh my cunt…oh m-my sluhhhty cuhhhnt…p-please…ohhh darling Faith…oh f-fuck me…fuck my cuhhhnt…” Joyce moaned obeying with a struggle.
She was slipping into a place where she had no will; where forming coherent thoughts was beyond her; where self control and the ability to form speech was beyond her.
“Y-yuh…ohhhh fuuuuuuhhck…oh pl-please…please…m-my cunt…m-my d-dirty, sluh-utty –cuhuhh-uhnt…fuhckkk…fuhck m-me…ohhhh-oh f-fuck…fuhck my cuhhnt…d-d-deeper…h-huh-harder…p-p-pleaaaaseee…ohhhhh….ohhh…oh m-my c-cuhhhnnt…oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
She plunged over the edge into the abyss of orgasm and there was nothing she could have done about it even if she had wanted to.
The alley behind the Butterfly Cage might have been a familiar venue for the spectacle the club’s of copulating clientele in all its variety but for Joyce it was new. However as Faith continued to make good on her earlier promises, Joyce gave herself willingly to the experience
The younger woman slid the slick dildo out of the groaning Joyce’s sex to press the head a little higher against her the tight little knot of her tremulous sphincter.
The older woman groaned gurgling. Her hips bucked.
Faith’s fingers dug into her hip holding her. “Easy Sweetness,” she purred. “You know it’s easier when you relax…”
Striving to obey Joyce shook.
“Ohh-ohhhh…” she moaned as she felt the pressure grow. She arched pushing back a little despite her sense of dread.
She had begun to enjoy anal sex, relaxing into the experience, relishing the sense of violation; of being made to accept it. But she still felt shame at it. It was uncomfortable still, but mostly it made her feel dirty, more so than perhaps anything else. Since her first experience that first time with the double headed dildo Faith had fucked her ass on several occasions and each time she had felt the deep sexual thrill at the humiliation of being used in that way.
Now the sense of shame was magnified by her public vulnerability. Inside she quailed at the thought that they could be discovered, easily observed, at any moment. It was no secret to those left in the club what Faith’s plans had been for her. She was quite surprised, almost disappointed, by the absence of an audience to watch her humiliation.
They had watched her strip. Why wouldn’t they then watch her being ass-fucked in the alley?
And, inevitably, her libidinous, submissive self responded to those thoughts with lustful desire.
“Ohh...oh y-yes Faith…ohhhhhh…oooooohhhh…” she gasped, mewling as the pressure on her knot grew, becoming unbearable until at last it surrendered.
“Ohhhhhh! Ahhhhhhh!” She cried out as the tight ring of muscle was breached by the cock-head that had so recently plundered into her womanhood.
Faith shifted her hips again to plunge deep into her companion’s bottom and Joyce howled as her bowels were pierced.
“Ahhhhhhh! Oh Gohhhhhhhhddddddd!” she shrilled. “Oh please Faith…oh! Oh! Oh! My ass! Oh fuhhhck! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Ohhhhhhh!”
Joyce panted as her lover began to sodomise her in earnest, her hips working, increasing the depth and speed of her searing strokes, plunging the dildo over and over, deep into her ass, its rippled, ridged shaft straining her sphincter; long deep plunging strokes agonisingly over-stimulating her tender ring of muscle until, crying out, she climaxed again, shuddering and utterly dominated.

When they re-entered the club a little while later, Joyce, still naked but now in the circling protection of Faith’s embrace, a cheer went up as the company spotted them. Her pleasure glistened on her thighs and Joyce smiled blushing shyly. Even Faith seemed a little reticent to be the centre of attention but she kissed her softly.
“Sh-shall I get dressed darling?” Joyce asked. She was still shaking a little from her ordeal.
“No Sweetness…you’ll do fine as you are – the car isn’t far…but far enough for you to put on a little show baby…”
“Oh…o-ok darling…i-if you say so…” Joyce said still looking as nervous as ever.
Faith grinned. “I do,” she said. “You got something to say about that Joyce?” She raised an eyebrow.
“N-no ma’am!” Joyce shook her head with a shy smile. “I’ll do *anything* you say darling!”
“Ok then…good.”
Blushing she let Faith lead her through the club to the exit where they, passed a small throng of women waiting to get in the door. All much younger than her they stared at her nakedness.
“Tourists!” Faith said dismissively as their heads turned watching them pass. The dark haired younger woman’s arm was possessive around Joyce’s waist.
The heavyset woman on the door grinned at the two of them.
“I guess it was you two out back then Faith?” she said with a knowing grin.
Faith met the doorperson’s eyes with a crooked grin of her own and shrugged.
“Good night Joyce!” The heavyset woman added and she nodding towards Joyce with a wink, her eyes flicking up and down the older woman’s nakedness. “I hope to see you again real soon.”
Joyce blushed, looking from under her ashes at the butch looking woman. “If Faith decides so, you probably will.” She said a little coyly.
The doorwoman grinned. “Well I’d tell you to enjoy the rest of your night but…I guess you will whether I say so or not!”
Once out of the safety of the club Joyce felt her vulnerable nakedness more than ever and she was grateful for Faith’s arm. She clung to the younger woman.
But the walk to the car was mercifully brief and the passed only two people – a lesbian couple heading inevitably to the Butterfly Cage who looked appreciatively at her before they hurried on. Otherwise the street was quiet.
Faith drove them back to Revello Drive in Joyce’s old SUV and the golden haired woman slid across the bench seat of the car to cuddle up to her lover. She craned to kiss the younger woman’s neck.
“I love you Faith, darling,” she whispered. “I love being yours…your slutty whore…”
“I know Joyce,” Faith replied. “I feel the same…well not the same…but I love *you* as well…I love that you’re my whore Joyce…I love you so much Sweetness…” She put her arm around her to pull her close, driving with one hand.
Joyce subsided into the circle of Faith’s arm to rest her head on her breast. Her golden curls tumbled down around her as emotional tears welled in her eyes

On the porch of 1630 Revello Drive Joyce asked softly; “do you *really* love me Faith?” And her eyes were still moist as Faith took Joyce in her arms, kissing her again.
“You’re everything I ever wanted Joyce,” she said softly with a passionate intensity that made Joyce’s heart ache. “A beautiful, obedient, sexy, willing, slut…I love you *so much* it’s hard to breathe…”
“Oh Faith…thank you…” Joyce said, answering Faith with a sighing intensity of her own. “I don’t think I’m beautiful darling…but I know that I’m your slut!” She pressed her mouth to the younger woman’s. “Th-thank you…f-for loving me…thank you for *making* me love you…for making me into those things…for loving me enough to *make* me your bottom! Thank you for making me do that tonight…it was amazing! There *will* be another time won’t there darling? You will make me strip again won’t you?”
Her lover’s teeth flashed in the dim light.
“I said you were going to do it again didn’t I Joyce?”
“Mmmm…oh yes…good…I want to do that for you…show everyone I’m yours…your whore! You should fuck me on stage next time…you should spank me and then *fuck* me…let them see me cry…and beg…show them how much cock I can take…show them how easy I come for you…show them I’m your dirty old whore!”
“Fuhck Joyce…that’s amazing…you’re so *hot*…so *sexy…” Faith breathed sweeping her inside “Why aren’t you licking my pussy right now?”
Swept up in their passion, as they headed towards the stairs and their waiting bed they did not see the miserable looking blonde sitting in the living room. Buffy’s head was in her hands
The young blonde haired woman looked up bitterly, her face distraught. She frowned, struggling to comprehend what she saw, her emotional distress turning to astonishment at the sight of her mother, naked except for a pair of black, hold-up stockings and red mid-heel pumps crossing, briskly, toward the stairs in the proprietary embrace of a girl she had once dated in high-school. As she watched they reached the stairs and paused briefly kissing deeply before Buffy’s erstwhile girlfriend delivered a shark spank to the soft spread of her mother’s bottom.
Buffy watched, unseen, in disbelief as her mother gave a half moan-half laugh before she turned to begin her ascent of the stairs.
Waiting a moment, still oblivious to the gaping blonde onlooker, Faith watched as her friend’s mother, the woman who she loved ascended the stairs, her hips swaying exaggeratedly.
“Will you just look at that ass!” Buffy heard the brunette exclaim enthusiastically, with a lustful approval. “No wonder all those dykes were going crazy over your show earlier – I mean just *look* at that * fanny*!”
“What? This one?” Came her mother’s reply with at tinkling laugh.
Buffy watched Faith leap into action to follow the older woman up the stairs. “Oh yeah – *that* one…that *slutty* pink ass…” the young dark haired woman called out. “Now come on Sweetness…move that fine, *whore’s* ass up those stairs…” and there followed the sound of hand on flesh; a brief salvo of spanks and her mother’s gasping, panting laughter.
“Ohh! Oooh No-no…p-please ma’am oh please d-d-don’t spank me any more…oh please ma’am…ohhh…oh-puhrleeeze…owww…oh no Miss…ohh it hurts Miss…oh-ohh-ohhh…please…I-I’ll be a good little lezzie whore for you Ma’am…I promise! Ohhh…I’ll lick your pussy…owww…oh please Ma’am…I’ll eat your ass…owww! Oh please! Oooh! Oooh! Ooooooh!”
“What the fuck…” The petite blonde’s mouth was slack, her eyes wide and her tears temporarily forgotten at her mother’s words and the sharp sound of Faith’s hand as it spanked her retreating bottom again.
Her head swirled unable to determine if her mother’s distress was faked or authentic as the two of them laughed, giggling as they headed for their love-bed.
***

End of Part 3
The Servitude of Sappho: the Remaking of Joyce Summers will continue in Part 4: Family and Friends
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The Servitude of Sappho: Remaking Joyce Summers