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The Indulgences of Isabelle Page 4


  Yazzie's outfit was less overtly sexual: a simple black dress so short that most of her thighs showed, along with black boots much like Jasmine's, while her hair was coiled up onto her head and decorated with a huge yellow silk flower. She was obviously the youngest among us, and unlike Caroline she actually looked quite innocent, but the three coils of coloured rope carefully laid out on the table in front of her suggested otherwise. She bobbed her head as I entered the room, greeting me.

  'Isabelle Kyou. Thank you for accepting me.'

  I smiled, pleased by the honorific, and held out my hand to be kissed. Yazzie responded well, bowing her head and pressing her lips gently to my skin, which sent a brief tremor of arousal through me. Mo or no Mo, I'd made the right choice.

  'My clothes?' I asked, arching my eyebrows at Caroline.

  'All laid out on the bed, sweetie,' she told me, jerking her thumb towards the stairs with a casual lack of respect that made my fingers twitch after the submissiveness of Yazzie.

  Caroline had her back to me, and I took a moment to tuck her skirt up into its waistband before I pulled down her panties. It was a wasted effort as far as punishment went because she didn't even bother to cover herself but went on making the coffee. I gave her a couple of smacks anyway, hard enough to make her squeak, then went upstairs. Everything was laid out for me, just as she'd said: my corset, a pair of long black leather gloves, smart black shoes, stockings, black French knickers and a black leather pencil skirt, which was new. She'd obviously made it specially for me, which had me smiling in gratitude and promising myself that I'd do something special for her that evening.

  I took my time over a shower and my make-up, then dressed, with my sense of dominance and control gradually rising with each article of clothing that I put on. The effect was certainly striking, although I felt that a hat would have added a nice touch and so I put my hair up and fastened it into a bun with one of Jasmine's combs and a piece of net. My new skirt was especially satisfying, although it came down almost to my ankles and was so tight that I could only walk with tiny, precise steps. I knew there would be a selection of implements in the workroom, and I selected an elegant bone-handled riding whip, the feel of which had me itching to apply it to somebody's bottom. It felt a shame to put my long coat back on over it all.

  Dr Treadle's house was in Wytham Village, on the far side of Oxford, so Jasmine drove out to the ring road and around the city, which gave us plenty of time to talk. Yazzie continued to address me as Kyou, and evidently believed in maintaining formal roles, while Caroline was giggly and excited at the prospect of playing together. That made it very easy for me to slip into feeling both dominant and sexual, and by the time we arrived it seemed the most natural thing in the world for Yazzie to get out first and hold the car door for me. Indoors I let my coat slip from my shoulders and handed it to Yazzie, who was looking more than a little surprised at the sight of Esmond, Dr Treadle's stuffed ostrich.

  'His tail feathers can be removed,' I told her, 'which is very convenient for tickling girls, especially girls who've been tied up.'

  'Yes, Isabelle Kyou,' she answered, and her voice sounded as if she was about to come.

  'I think you may have an interesting subject there, Dr Treadle,' I remarked as he closed the door behind us. 'You may enjoy her later, as a little thank-you for allowing us the use of your house.'

  'I'd be delighted,' he answered.

  He was looking as dapper as ever, in perfect black tie and with his neat white goatee beard newly trimmed, his cufflinks and the gold rims of his spectacles the only details of colour in his dress. Eliza was right to say that he was civilised, and he was exactly the sort of man I wanted to be associated with the Rattaners: mature, intelligent and calm, also tolerant and happy to put up with whatever we got up to while content with what he was offered in return.

  Duncan Appledore was much the same, if slightly less pliable when it came to doing as he was told. He too was there, with his large and comfortable body relaxed into a large and comfortable armchair, a drink in one hand. Like Dr Treadle, he was in black tie but the otherwise sombre look of his clothing was relieved by a richly embroidered waistcoat. He had Katie on his lap, one hand gently cupping the curve of her bottom, at which I raised my eyebrows.

  'I trust you're enjoying my girlfriend's bottom, Duncan?' I asked. 'No, don't stop, you are very welcome – but you, Katie, have earned yourself a spanking.'

  She blushed and bit her lip, but her eyes were already shining with anticipation. I knew she'd come over with him, and she looked both sexy and amusingly silly in her line-dancing outfit of skintight white trousers, a stars-and-stripes blouse, cowboy boots and a white Stetson hat. In my time I'd been made to dress the same way, which had been deeply humiliating, but it suited Katie. The only other person there was Walter Jessop, who looked distinctly out of place.

  There had always been something seedy about Walter, but it seemed to have intensified over the summer. I was used to him being plump but he'd lost a little weight, which gave his body the impression of having sagged slightly, especially around the middle. His face was redder and his hair thinner, while his nose had begun to grow bulbous and was threaded with tiny purple veins. He hadn't bothered to dress for the occasion, unless a tweed jacket with leather patches at the elbows and a pair of baggy corduroy trousers was intended to represent some fetish I wasn't familiar with. One thing was certain: the threat of being given to him for a night would keep Portia well away from the Red Ox.

  'Eliza should be here presently, with the others,' Dr Treadle announced, rubbing his hands together as he made for the sideboard. 'Drinks? And what entertainment do we have planned for the evening?'

  'A Glenlivet for me, please,' I answered him. 'Sarah has a new game, so she says.'

  It was actually something I was slightly worried about, because while Sarah and I had been allies most of the time, we had had our differences in the past and I didn't entirely trust her not to try and put me in some awkward position – such as bottom up over her lap with my smart black knickers stuffed in my mouth. Fortunately, unless I broke the rules she had no way of imposing anything on me without taking a risk herself – or so I hoped.

  I'd no sooner sat down with my drink and retrieved Katie from Duncan's lap to sit her on my own when the doorbell rang. Dr Treadle went to answer it and Eliza, Sarah, Portia and Tiffany trooped in. Eliza wore a severe-looking tweed suit with a tight skirt, while the other three were in full riding gear of taut jodhpurs and white blouses, highly polished black boots and smart jackets. Sarah's jacket was black, while Portia's and Tiffany's were both red – or, technically, pink – and I couldn't resist a quip.

  'I thought a red coat meant you were in charge, Sarah? So black implies . . .'

  'Very amusing,' she replied. 'Especially as your entire outfit is black.'

  The blood went to my cheeks in a blush that I was powerless to hold back, and which grew stronger as both Portia and Tiffany giggled. I buried my face in my glass in an attempt to hide my embarrassment and Sarah didn't press her advantage, instead making for the sideboard. The exchange had left me with an urgent need to exert my authority once more, and as soon as I'd swallowed my whisky I put the glass down.

  'Right, you little flirt,' I said, and turned Katie over my knee.

  She was taken completely by surprise, and barely managed a squeak of alarm before she'd been tipped up with the seat of her trousers, bulging with healthy young bottom, stuck out towards the room. I began to smack the taut globes. I had the full attention of the room on the instant. Even Sarah took the trouble to turn around to enjoy the view. All I wanted to do was make a show of Katie's submission to me, and perhaps warm her bottom a little to help her over her natural shyness, so I let her keep her clothes on and contented myself with three dozen smacks. Besides, just the feel of her cheeks through the tight white material of her line-dancing trousers was enough to make me want to put her on her knees and make her lick me, and it was rather early for that.
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  Sarah had sat down, with a glass of white wine in her hand and both Portia and Tiffany curled at her feet, making me wonder what they'd been up to during the week. It seemed that Sarah had been quick to exert her control and make sure that both girls were hers rather than allow Portia to express her rising dominance. I immediately found myself thinking of how that was likely to affect the dynamics of power within the society, but Sarah had begun to explain her game and I quickly turned my attention to what she was saying.

  '. . . Which is convenient as, of the twelve of us, six are dominant and six are submissive.'

  Jasmine made to speak but thought better of it. Portia was clearly resigned to her role.

  'The game is called joker, and this is how it works,' Sarah continued as she took a pack of playing cards from the pocket of her riding jacket. 'First, each submissive girl chooses a punishment, or something she'd like done to her or to somebody else. These are written down, in no particular order. We then cut cards, first the dominants and then the submissives. Whoever gets the highest card among the dominants gets first choice of partner, and whoever cuts the highest card among the submissives gets first choice of punishment, and so on. Is that clear?'

  'Perfectly,' Duncan replied, 'and an excellent game if I may say so. Simple, yet effective, and very fair.'

  It was also extremely cruel. Of the six girls, three would have to go to men, and it was the men who would do the choosing, while the chance for the girls of being able to play with their partner of choice was only one in six. Nobody was going to back out, but Katie had started to tremble and she pulled herself closer to me.

  'Choose me,' she whispered, 'if you can.'

  'I will,' I promised her.

  'I'll make a note of the punishments,' Eliza offered, taking her notebook and a pen from her bag. 'And we must veto anything that is too soft, or impractical. Who would like to start? Perhaps our new members?'

  She was looking at Yazzie, who responded with a polite inclination of her head before replying.

  'Thank you, Dr Abbot Iemoto. I would like to be tied, please, so that I am entirely at the mercy of my Mistress or Master.'

  I couldn't help but feel a touch of pique as she spoke. They had explained the Japanese honorifics she used as we drove over, and the one she had given Eliza implied a respected teacher or an expert of great seniority. My own Kyou was respectful but less so than was Iemoto, while she had also used my Christian name as she did with Jasmine. Clearly she felt that my status was inferior to that of Eliza, and what made it worse was that I knew perfectly well that she was right.

  'Good,' Eliza responded. 'And may I say that it is a pleasure to have somebody who understands that submission should mean submission, and not simply the gratification of her personal tastes. Tiffany?'

  I wasn't sure who she was referring to, but I found myself colouring up anyway. After all, it was barely three months since she had given me my last punishment session, and she had never been shy about telling me I was a difficult pupil, especially when it came to taking enemas, which she loved to give, or having my mouth washed out with soap.

  'I'd like to be spanked,' Tiffany said with relish. 'You can do it hard, and I don't mind if my bottom is bare, but I need you to be cruel about it, as if you've bullied me into it, the way Isabelle and Jasmine did me. I like to be teased too, and—'

  'What was it you were saying just now, Eliza?' Duncan interrupted.

  'Quite,' Eliza responded. 'Tiffany, you may rest assured that whoever chooses you will know how to deal with you properly. None of us are inexperienced. Katie?'

  'Um . . .' Katie replied. 'I'd like a spanking too, please.'

  'Try and be original,Katie,' Portia mocked, 'at least a bit. Surely we all have to choose different punishments?'

  'Maybe the strap, then?' Katie suggested. 'But not too hard.'

  'Remember that you won't necessarily have to take your own punishment,' Sarah put in. 'It's the luck of the draw.'

  'Of course – sorry,' Katie replied. 'OK, a strapping, given however the dominant pleases.'

  'That's better,' Eliza replied. 'Caroline?'

  'Being queened,' Caroline answered promptly.

  'Queened?' Portia responded, with a horrified glance towards the three men.

  Caroline shrugged. 'If you can't take the heat . . .'

  'Yes, but queened? Come on, Caroline!'

  'Queened,' Caroline said firmly. 'And you have to lick.'

  The look on Portia's face suggested that she was about to be sick, but she contented herself with a shake of her head.

  'I just hope you get it yourself, that's all,' she said, 'from . . .'

  Portia stopped, perhaps realising that if she named a man he was almost certain to choose her. Then she knelt up to whisper urgently in Sarah's ear.

  'Queened it is, then,' Eliza said. 'And for your own choice, Portia?'

  'It's hard to compete, with sluts like Caroline around,' Portia replied. 'You can choose first, Jasmine.'

  'Wetting your panties,' Jasmine said.

  'How is the dominant supposed to participate?' Portia demanded.

  'He can set the scene,' Jasmine explained. 'However he chooses. What's your choice, then?'

  'A private striptease,' Portia said.

  I could see her reasoning, because if she got it she wouldn't have to be touched.

  'That's a little mild,' I pointed out. 'But I'm OK with it if it's done in front of the dominant and she has to bring herself to orgasm.'

  Portia made to protest, but everybody else was in agreement and Eliza wrote it into her book.

  'Let's cut, then,' Sarah said. 'Aces are high, and a joker means you have to swap places, whoever cuts it – hence the name. Isabelle?'

  For once she'd given me proper precedence, not that it made any practical difference this time. But I thanked her as I picked up the deck of cards. Knowing full well what she and Portia were capable of, I gave them a good shuffle first, then placed them back on the table and cut the deck at the centre, praying it wouldn't be a joker. It was the five of clubs.

  'Keep your card,' Sarah instructed. 'Eliza?'

  Eliza cut a seven and Sarah a jack before passing the cards to the men. Duncan managed to get the ace of spades, assuring himself first choice of the girls, with Dr Treadle cutting a ten and Walter a queen. I was last, but it could have been worse. Duncan would, hopefully, choose Katie, and I managed to make eye contact with him as he went to the sideboard.

  'It is by no means an easy choice with six such beautiful girls,' he stated as he filled his tumbler. 'But, as you all know, I have a particular penchant for Katie.'

  I felt her relax against me and gave her an encouraging squeeze. Walter was eyeing the remaining girls and Portia's mouth had begun to twitch at one corner.

  'Portia,' he said, and I saw her body sag in defeat.

  It was better than getting her myself, while Katie was no longer available for Sarah. I began to smile.

  'I shall have Tiffany,' Sarah announced, and gave me a knowing smile.

  I ignored her, because although she had guessed correctly that Tiffany would have been my choice after Katie, I was last and the new girls were bound to be popular.

  'Yazzie, if I may?' Dr Treadle said.

  She bowed her head and crawled across from beside Jasmine to his feet.

  'Jasmine,' Eliza stated.

  That left me Caroline, which was rather nice as I'd only had a limited opportunity to play with her since Katie and I got together. I had always enjoyed her opulent figure as well, and she reacted beautifully to punishment.

  'Time for the girls to cut,' Sarah said.

  She was really enjoying herself, her voice full of sadistic relish as she tapped the cards into a neat pile on the table. None of the girls seemed particularly keen to cut first, but Yazzie finally leant out from where she was curled at Dr Treadle's feet. She got the three of clubs, about as low as it was possible to get, but only a serene submission showed on her face as she settled back.
Tiffany cut a four, little better, and Portia a six, which had her biting her lip in consternation. Katie managed an ace, and she was smiling as she came back to me. Caroline followed, cutting a seven, with Jasmine last with another seven but of a higher suit.

  'I'd like to be spanked, please,' Katie said happily.

  Tiffany gave her a dirty look, but Katie barely noticed, bouncing happily across to Duncan's chair and draping herself across his lap. He made something of an exhibition of it, applying a dozen firm swats to the bulging seat of her line-dancing jeans before pulling them down and repeating the process on the pink polka-dot panties beneath.

  By then she was warm, with her soft bottom-flesh sticking out around her leg holes distinctly pink, but she was still blushing as he pulled her panties down. She was given another two dozen smacks on the bare, hard enough to set her kicking and break down her self-control to make sure we all got a glimpse of her pussy from behind. She could come if she was spanked properly, and she even looked a little disappointed as she got up. But she didn't bother to cover herself, sitting her hot bare bottom down on my lap as she returned to me. I whispered into her ear.

  'I'll make you suck his penis later.'

  Katie gave a little shiver, but said nothing. Jasmine had stood up.

  'I'll strip,' she said.

  For her, it was the easy choice. She did it two or three nights a week, often for crowds of leering, drunken men. To perform for us was a simple pleasure, even when it involved bringing herself to orgasm in front of Eliza. It even allowed her to keep a degree of control.

  'In the middle of the room, then,' Eliza stated. 'I don't wish to be greedy.'

  Jasmine nodded, spent a somewhat puzzled moment trying to choose some suitable music from Dr Treadle's less than up-to-date collection, and began to dance. She was certainly good, strutting and teasing as she slowly removed her clothes, taking her time and making the best of her neatly rounded little bottom and pert breasts. Eliza took it in with a look of casual amusement, which stayed on her face even when Jasmine was down to her panties and crawling on the floor.

  The panties came down slowly, with Jasmine's bottom turned towards Eliza in a gesture of unashamed sexual display if not necessarily submission. Eliza was smiling, and clearly enjoying the view, for all that I knew she'd rather have given Jasmine a firm spanking or inserted an enema hose up the tight little bottom-hole now being flaunted for her inspection. No disappointment showed in her expression, and there was a slight flush to her neck as Jasmine began to masturbate, alternately rubbing and showing off her sex until she'd brought herself to a shivering, heaving orgasm. We clapped as she finished: it had been a fine show. Two girls had now been put on display, and I was beginning to feel distinctly warm as Caroline bounced to her feet.