Date: Sat, 18 Oct 2014 15:05:55 -0400
From: lisaandjudy@googlemail.com
Subject: Mistaken Identity - continued to end

Mistaken Identity Chapter 14
============================================================================
Once out of the suite Angela put on the dressing gown, which hung on a hook
just outside the door and headed for the staffroom where she found Gill
already busy putting breakfast together in the kitchen area. Ruth, over in one
corner, with the inevitable coffee cup on the desk in front of her, was
keeping an watch on the CCTV and making sure all the systems ran smoothly.
"That was some show you and Fiona put on for the client last night," Gill
joked as she warmed up the croissants.
"Gotta keep it looking real," Angela joked back. "Talking of which, I've
never seen a client so deep into role. Usually there's some sign that they
know that it's all an act but this one...."
"Yeah, I had that when I was getting her ready for auction," Gill added. "
Either she's really letting herself believe or she's the best actress ever."
"Well, she's certainly getting what she signed up for. We're not doing
anything to her that isn't on the script. Even so, you should have seen her
face when I put her in the stocks. She didn't seem very happy even if she is
getting off on it."
"And is she?"
"Well, she seems to be. I mean, she's not making that much fuss and you
saw how easily she came when she was on the auction post. Trust me, I know
what I'm talking about there; she was hot and ready to trot long before I got
to her.  And then, last night, OK, so she wasn't allowed to come but talk
about sensuous. If she wasn't getting off on going down on me then you could
have fooled me; she was definitely giving it her all."
"So we saw," Gill laughed.
And, with that, the microwave pinged and the croissants were ready. Gill
took them out and put them on the trolley along with a large pot of hot
coffee, a selection of fresh fruit, some Greek yoghurt and all the trimmings.
However, these were prepared for the Countess and Trixie; for Sue there was
simply a dog's bowl and a jug of water.
"Thank you kindly, ma'am," Angela quipped and, with a swing to her hips,
she made her way back to the suite.
As Angela, once more divested of her dressing gown and back in role as
Trixie, pushed the trolley into the suite, the smell of fresh Kenyan Peaberry AA
wafted from the coffee pot. From Sue's perspective, this was almost the
worst torture yet. Trixie left the trolley in the center of the room, poured
out a generous cup of coffee and took it over to the Countess who complained
haughtily that there should have been Venezuelan coffee available. Sue heard
them discussing the breakfast options and the Countess decided on some fresh
grapefruit and a couple of croissants. Trixie went back to the trolley to
get this together and then laid it all out on a tray and took it over to the
bed.
Then she went over to the end of the cage where Sue's head and hands were
protruding. She fetched from the drawer under the bed another piece of wood
and this slotted into the `stocks' so as to form a shelf just under Sue's
chin. With this in place Trixie fetched from the trolley the dog's bowl and
water jug. As she returned Sue looked up at her and mouthed the word `coffee'
but Trixie just smiled and shook her head. She placed the bowl on the shelf
so that Sue, by leaning her head forward, could dip her mouth in it. Then
she took the water jug and filled the bowl to the rim.
"Make sure you drink it all up," she said. "The Countess gets most cross
if slaves don't eat or drink what is provided for them."
And, with that, Trixie went back to the other side of the bed and Sue could
no longer see her.
Sue's resolve to play at being a well-behaved `slave' was being pushed to
the limit. She wanted out of these damn stocks, she wanted a cup of morning
coffee and, above all else, she wanted to pee. She hated the nappy, hated
the whole idea of it but, well, it had been fitted for a purpose and she was
close to the point where she would have no choice in the matter. With an
internal sigh she decided she couldn't hold back any longer and, once she
started she couldn't stop. The sense of relief flowed through her just as the warm
damp sensation flowed around her groin. The toweling could only absorb so
much and, by the time the flow slowed to a trickle, the nappy was sodden
between her legs and she could feel a certain amount oozing down the inside of
her thighs. Quite frankly she didn't care. Her dignity had long been taken
from her; she had no pride left and she just did what she had to do. She leant
her head forward and drank from the bowl. It might not have been coffee but
it tasted delicious.
And then it was back to waiting. It would appear that the Countess and
Trixie were in no hurry to finish their breakfast. Sue, mindful of Trixie's
warning that the Countess would be cross if she didn't drink what was given to
her, strained her head forward to sip at the water but it was difficult to
reach far enough and the bowl was still more than half full.
At last the Countess got out of bed. Aided by Trixie she put on a floor
length satin gown that matched her slip and then came over to stand by the cage.
"Trixie, I wish to play with my new toy," she said. "Get her out of the
cage."
Trixie came over and unfastened a few bolts but, this time, instead of
opening the door at the end of the cage, the whole roof was hinged up. Then it
was a simple affair to remove the top half of the stocks and Sue, with her
wrists still chained together, was helped to her feet. The door at the end of
the cage was opened and Sue, waddling somewhat in her sodden nappy, was led
round to stand in front of the Countess.
"Well...." the Countess said in expectation.
For a moment Sue just stood there, uncertain as to what was required of
her. The Countess just stood there watching, her face impassive. Sue felt the
panic rising within her. She had to do something; what? She remembered the
Countess's order that she should be happy and agreeable. Whatever her true
feelings she had to appear willing.
"Good morning, Countess," she said, giving a curtsey and hoping she was
doing what was required. "How may I brighten your day for you?"
"Oh, we are going to have fun today!" the Countess exclaimed, her face
breaking into a smile. "You have so much to learn but we will have so much fun
teaching you. Now, first things first; have you been a naughty little
Rosalita and wet your nappy?"
"Yes, Countess, I'm sorry, Countess."
"Oh, dear, not a good start to the day. Trixie, sweetie, I think you had
best take this one off for a shower. Get her cleaned up and ready."
Trixie led Sue to the en-suite and over to the shower area. She pulled a
cord next to the light switch and a hook attached to a chain snaked down out
of the ceiling next to the showerhead. She took Sue's wrists and arranged
then so that the chain between them was over the hook. Then it was back to a
second cord, this time pulling the chain up until Sue was at full stretch. As
the rubber cuffs took some of her weight they gripped her wrists tight but
weren't too uncomfortable.
Then Trixie removed the plastic panties, the nappy and the belt that Sue
still wore and took them all to a laundry chute where they disappeared out of
sight. Sue wasn't sorry to see the back of the belt but she wasn't
expecting to have her wrists freed any time soon.
Then Trixie turned on the shower and, after a mercifully brief spell of
cold water, it ran pleasantly hot. Taking the hair shampoo from the shelf next
to the shower she set to work on Sue's hair.
This was the second shower Sue had had since she had been captured and,
apart from both being restrained, they could not have been more different.
Whereas the auctioneer had been cold, professional, businesslike, Trixie was
anything but. The biggest difference was that the auctioneer had been clothed
whereas Trixie was naked and, as such, had no problems with getting wet. To
shampoo Sue's hair she had to get in close and this illustrated the second
difference. The auctioneer had been cold, professional, Trixie, in contrast,
was another slave and, as such, required to be `passionate' for the
Countess. As their two naked bodies met under the cascading water, she let the suds
slide down between them so that skin could slide against skin and this was
as erotic as any shower Sue had shared with any of her boyfriends. Once
Trixie had finished with Sue's hair she swapped the shampoo for shower gel and,
this time, there was no mistaking her intentions. At first she used her hands
to spread liberal amounts of gel all over and then, she used her body,
rubbing against Sue in the most sensuous of fashion. Sue glanced over to where
the Countess was sat on the edge of the bath, watching intently. Evidently
she was enjoying watching her `slaves' showering together. It seemed to Sue
that, as part of playing the willing slave, she should reciprocate and, as
Trixie rubbed against her, so she rubbed back, well, as far as her bound
wrists would allow her.
And, truth be told, it wasn't all show. Trixie was no amateur and Sue would
have had to have been made of stone not to respond. Sue's previous shower
partners could have learnt a lot from Trixie and the way she used not just
her hands but her whole body to smooth the shower gel over them both. Trixie
pushed her groin against Sue's hip so Sue reciprocated by pushing her foot
forwards and giving Trixie her thigh to straddle. Trixie upped the tempo and
hugged Sue close, using her for support as she slid their bodies against each
other and it seemed almost inevitable that they should kiss. As Trixie's
tongue plundered Sue's mouth there was an intensity about her passion that was
catching and Sue kissed back, just as hard.
Trixie broke from the kiss and Sue, at first, could hardly believe it but,
when she realised it was just to reach for more shower gel, just to renew
the soapiness between them, she was glad they were going to continue. Now
Trixie was holding nothing back, she was like some wild animal desperately
rubbing their bodies together, searching out ever higher pleasures. Sue wished
that her hands were free, wished that she could respond more; she pushed her
foot out farther, as far as it would go, and Trixie rode her thigh for all
she was worth, letting her whole weight bear down, pressing herself against Sue
's thigh.
"Oh, bravo, little Trixie!" the Countess called out. "What passion, what
fervor! How pretty you look, how I wish you were mine! Come for me! Come for
me now!"
And come she did. Hanging on to Sue as if her life depended on it she
ground her groin into Sue's thigh and, with little animal cries, buried her head
in Sue's shoulder. The intensity of it all was pulling on Sue's arms and
making the cuffs cut into her wrists but she was so caught up in Trixie's
orgasm that she hardly noticed. Finally, with a massive groan, which seemed to
come from the very depths of her, Trixie climaxed and, without Sue's support,
would have fallen to the floor. For a long, long moment the only sound was
the splashing of the shower until, with a little shudder, Trixie relaxed her
hug, stood up again and kissed Sue long and hard.

"Oh, bravo again!" the Countess clapped her hands in glee. "Do you see,
little Rosalita, do you see how pretty Trixie looks when she comes? When it is
your turn to perform do you think you will look as pretty? Will your climax
be as pleasing to me?"
Sue wasn't sure whether this question was rhetorical or not but, as she hadn
't got a clue how to respond, she left it unanswered. Meanwhile Trixie had
finished kissing her and, almost languorously, was finishing off the washing
process. This done she reached for the shower controls and turned off the
flow.
"You haven't shaved her. Is she smooth?" the Countess asked.
"She's pretty smooth. She was only shaved yesterday but I'll do it again
if you want. Do you want to have a feel?"
The Countess came over and ran the tips of her fingers over Sue's mons and
then down between her legs, pushing them apart. Idly she toyed with Sue's
nether lips, examining them.
"No, that's fine," she commented. "I guess they did a pretty good job
when they prepared her for auction. Of course, I'll get her properly waxed when
we get back to Venezuela.
And, as for this lot," the Countess reached up and tousled Sue's hair
where it hung down limply from her head, "this will have to go as well."
"Perhaps you would like me to do that now, Countess?" Trixie asked.
"Would you? Slaves look so much neater with their heads shaved. If you were
mine...." the Countess tousled Trixie's hair playfully.


Mistaken Identity Chapter 15
============================================================================
Sue was horrified at the idea of having her head shaved. "Please, Countess,"
 she half whispered.
"What is it, little Rosalita?" the Countess asked. "Is something bothering
you?"
"My hair... do you have to cut my hair?"
"Have a care, little Rosalita, have a care. It is not for you to decide how
my slaves shall look. You should rejoice that I want to make you pretty."
"Yes, Countess, of course, Countess."
All the while Fiona was watching the client carefully. This was all in the
script; head shaving had been specifically requested by the client and,
backstage, they had a wig waiting for her to wear when it was all over. However,
Fiona was aware that this was a massive step to take and was making sure
there were no second thoughts. However, she hadn't heard the safe word, or
even the go-slow word so, despite the client's obvious anxiety, she must
actually want to follow this through. Fiona decided to give it one more try.
"So, little Rosalita, when I say that I want your head shaven, what do you
reply?"
Sue remembered her resolve to appear compliant and fought back the tears
that were threatening to start.
"Please, Countess, it is my delight to be however you want me," she said. "
Forgive my nervousness; I am so new to servitude."
"Then you had best learn quickly. My patience will not last forever. Show
me that you're happy; give me a smile, that's better. Now put your head
back, come along, all the way back. Let Trixie do her work.
While Sue and the Countess had been talking, Trixie had fetched scissors
and a small kick stool, which she placed behind Sue. Trixie got up on the kick
stool and Sue felt her first combing out and then cutting off her still
damp hair. Then, when the scissors could do no more, Trixie swapped them for
the razor and shaving foam. While this was going on the Countess stood in
front of Sue, reached down and fondled her sex. In some ways this was the most
surreal it had been since she had been captured. She could hardly imagine
anything more bizarre than dangling by her wrists whilst her head was being
shaved and her `owner's' fingers played with her pussy. And, to add to the
unreality, she could feel herself responding. It wasn't just the Countess's
fingers; far more it was about the way she was, once again, being `prepared'.
Something as drastic as having her head shaved really brought home how she
was a possession, a plaything, a toy, and, whether she liked it or not,
something deep in her psyche  loved every minute.  The feeling as the razor slid
over her scalp was fuelling the fire within every bit as much as the
Countess's fingers playing in her pussy. Each stroke of the blade, every strand of
hair removed, seemed to strip her a little more bare, to take away one more
of her defenses. She had never in her life felt so naked; she had never in
her life been so naked. Part of her wanted to cry out "Take me, just take
me. Why don't you take me?"
And then, suddenly and all too soon, it was done. Trixie put down the
razor, unclipped the showerhead and used it to rinse off Sue's scalp. Now that it
was over, Sue leant her head forward to keep the water out of her eyes and,
as she looked down, she saw the last remnants of her hair disappearing down
the drain in the floor.
Trixie turned off the water and pulled the cord, which lowered the hoist
holding Sue's arms. She led her out into the centre of the bathroom and, using
soft white towels, which she picked from a pile, dried Sue off. As she did
so Sue caught sight of herself in a mirror and she couldn't help but stare.
It was as if a complete stranger was staring back at her. She looked like
Natalie Portman out of V for Vendetta or Demi Moore from GI Jane, well,
except, she had to admit she hadn't got quite their film star looks. However, she
was going to turn heads in the street. And then, with a jolt, she wondered
if she would ever again be in any streets to turn heads.
"Does my little Rosalita like how she looks?" the Countess had noticed her
stare.
"Thank you, Countess, I look wonderful," Sue gushed and, although she was
putting it on for the Countess there was more than a grain of truth in her
words. It was as if this woman, this thing, this bizarre doll staring back
from the mirror wasn't really her. Along with her hair had gone her sense of
self; she had, indeed, become the plaything of the Countess and that was very
liberating. Just as this thing in the mirror was no longer Susan Brown, but
had become Rosalita so, what ever she did or was done to her would be done
by or to Rosalita. She hadn't, she wouldn't, lose her identity altogether
but she would lock it away in a box inside her, ready for when the time was
right and, right now, she had become Rosalita, completely and absolutely.
Being the dutiful slave, being totally obedient, would come naturally to her
now her physical appearance had been changed so much. She turned towards the
Countess and gave a little curtsey.
"Thank you, Countess," she said again, "little Rosalita loves her new look.
"
"Excellent! Now come along, let's do your make up."


Mistaken Identity Chapter 15
============================================================================
The Countess led Trixie and Sue back into the bedroom and she was told to
sit on a stool in front of the dressing table. The cuffs were removed from
her wrists and she was ordered to clasp her hands behind her back. Then,
working together, the Countess and Trixie set to applying make up. Sue was
reminded of a toy she had had as a child. It consisted of a head and shoulders in
some sort of rubbery plastic and she was supposed to brush its hair and
apply the make up that was supplied with it. Well, this `toy' had no hair to
brush but, apart from that, the Countess and Trixie were treating her in just
the same way and she had as little say in the outcome as the toy had had.
The make up was just as much part of the transformation as the head shaving
and, in its way, just as liberating.
"There, perfect!" the Countess said at last. "Now, what did we do with the
nipple bells?"
"Here we are, Countess," Trixie said as she opened a jewelry case that had
lain on the dressing table. Inside there were a mixture of gold and silver
clamps in. The Countess rummaged through until she found a pair of clamps,
each with its bell. They were joined by a chain just longer than the gap
between Sue's nipples. Although the bells and chain were golden the clamps
themselves were a harder metal and had quite sharp teeth to hold them on. Trixie
bent down and, using her lips and teeth, teased out Sue's nipples until they
were sufficiently prominent and the Countess could attach the clamps. Sue
couldn't suppress a little squeak of pain as they gripped.
"Too tight for you, my little Rosalita?" the Countess asked.
"They're...." Sue saw the trap in time. "They're perfect, Countess. I
love them." And, to reinforce the point, she wiggled her chest making her
breasts bounce and the bells tinkle. "Just perfect."
"And do they make little Rosalita nice and passionate?"
To answer her question the Countess reached between Sue's thighs and used
her fingers to probe between the lips of Sue's sex. Sue wasn't that
surprised when they slipped in easily. She, or rather little Rosalita, had been
aroused ever since the head shaving and she actually moved her thighs apart so
as to make access easier. The Countess pushed her fingers a little deeper and
used her thumb to stimulate the clitoral hood, sending electric tingles
right through Sue's body. She threw her head back and, as she did so, the bells
hanging from her nipples jingled. The little tweaks from the clamps only
added to the mix.
"Oh, look!" the Countess removed her fingers and held them up in front of
Sue's face, "little Rosalita is flowing with passion. Lick."
She held out her fingers in front of Sue's mouth and Sue licked them clean.
"Very good," the Countess purred. "It is good that you are passionate and
you should endeavor to remain that way. An important part of your duties
will be to entertain me and my guests by showing off that passion. Let's see
how well you perform. Go and kneel on the bed. Give me a show, make it good,
let me know just how much passion you really have."
For a moment Sue was non-paused and then she realised what was wanted. Part
of her duties was going to be acting as some sort of erotic dancer. Sue, in
her previous life, would have been horrified, but Rosalita was a horny
little slut who would just love the opportunity to show off how sexy she was.
She stood up from the dressing table, sashayed over to the bed and got up onto
it. Facing the Countess she knelt up with her knees wide apart and, looking
the Countess straight in the eye, reached down with her right hand and
started to rub in sensuous circles. Now, as Rosalita, she was freed from any
constraints and could indulge her wildest exhibitionist fantasies and this was
thrilling her to the core. If the Countess wanted a show then she was damn
well going to get one! As her right hand played with her sex so her left hand
played with her breasts, making the bells dance. The little jolts of pain
as the clamps tugged at her nipples didn't so much hurt as seem to be wired
directly to the core of her pleasure. The tinkling of the bells echoed a
tingling of her senses.
As their gazes locked she could see that the Countess was just as aroused
as she was. This tied directly into Rosalita's exhibitionist streak and
spurred her on. She played with the tip of her tongue along her lips and, as she
watched, saw the Countess do the same. They might not have been physically
touching but they were definitely sharing the experience. She gave a little
smile and, again, this was returned.
Fiona stared fascinated at the client. This was far from the first time she
had seen this scenario, it was part and parcel of the `slave training'
routine. However, she had never seen it so convincingly done. This client was
different, special. It must be something to do with the shaven head, she
mused. Few clients went as far as that and it had added a whole new dimension to
the game. Ever since then the client had been far more into it. Her state
of arousal a few moments ago told its own story there, but, more than that,
this display, this dance that she was doing, was genuinely and deeply erotic,
far more so than any she had seen before.  She thought that she was pretty
much immune by now but this was really getting to her and making her all hot
and bothered. If she had her way she'd have ordered Angela to join in, and
not with the client, either. Angela's tongue working its magic between her
thighs was just what Fiona needed right now. However, the script called for
her to be the icy Countess using orgasm denial to train her new slave and, if
she didn't get a grip, things would get out of hand. For a moment, Fiona
almost let the client have her pleasure but she was, at heart, a professional.
It was time to call a halt before either of them lost control.
"Don't come without my permission, little Rosalita," the Countess warned, "
or I'll have to smack that pretty little bottom of yours." Fiona saw Sue's
face drop and it was all she could do to stick to the script. "You see,
little Rosalita, you must learn that your performance is for my pleasure, not
yours. If I'm not ready for you to come then it would be hurtful if you did.
Maybe, if you're good, if you behave, then, if I'm feeling kindly towards
you, then I'll let you come later. Now, I've seen enough of you on your own,
why don't you do me a show with Trixie? Let's see how well you do with
other slaves. Let's see if you can be as passionate with her."
Sue's whole body was in turmoil over her cut-short orgasm. Her fingers
strayed a few more times over her mons but, somehow, it wasn't the same anymore.
That didn't mean it was over, merely that she was shaken. She looked over
at Trixie who was standing up and coming over to the bed. Trixie gave her a
big, sexy smile and some of Sue's apprehensions melted.
Trixie got up onto the bed and shuffled over so that she was kneeling next
to and facing Sue. She reached out for Sue's waist and, on this bidding, Sue
turned round so that, like Trixie, she was side on to the Countess.  For a
moment or two she and Trixie just looked at each other. Sue couldn't get out
of her mind that silly song, "I Kissed a Girl". Her friends had thought it
so sexy and daring but it was nothing compared with what she was about to
do. Now that she'd got past the `I'm being forced to have sex against my will
' part, this was an exhilarating ride, a roller coaster journey through
wild scenarios beyond even her most unrestrained fantasies. She wasn't just
going to kiss this girl; she was going to have full on sex with her whilst
being watched by her `owner'.  The old boundaries, the limits of what she would
or wouldn't do, had gone by the board as she hurtled headlong into her new
life as the Countess's slave, doing her bidding and, what's more, getting
off on it. Apprehension turned to anticipation as she leaned forward and
kissed Trixie on the lips.
Angela, in her role as Trixie, had been here more than once before. Unlike
the previous evening where the client was "forced" to go down on her, this
time it should be more mutual. However, for many clients, this was another
Rubicon to cross and they needed to be eased over into what was often their
first mutual lesbian session. The trick was to let the client set the pace,
to encourage, even lead at bit, but basically allow the client find out just
how bi-curious she really was. This time could not have been more different.
Right from the start the client rushed in with a no holds barred clinch and
the kiss was no idle peck but tongues and all. Trixie broke from the kiss
and hugged Sue close so that their heads were side by side and, crucially,
Trixie's head was furthest from the Countess.
"Slow down," she whispered, "make it last."
"That bitch has left me so fucking horny!" Sue muttered between clenched
teeth.
"I know, honey, she likes to do that but, trust me, it's better this way."
Sue got a grip on herself and realised that Trixie was right. Apart from
anything else a long slow sensuous session was more likely to please the
Countess than her bull-at-a-gate approach. She pulled back, gave Trixie a little
smile and started kissing again, this time gentler, more sensually. Trixie
responded in kind and, once they had started, it just seemed so simple, so
easy. Sure, there was still this aching need that had to be satisfied but it
could wait. She could enjoy the journey as well as the destination.


Mistaken Identity Chapter 16
============================================================================
Fiona had, of course, been well aware of their whispered conversation; she
was, after all, sitting only a few feet away from them. If she were playing
strictly to the script then the Countess would have had to punish both of
them for talking. However, she trusted Angela and, if she had felt the need to
talk then she must have seen that the client needed guidance.
Meanwhile Sue was discovering just how different, and how similar, it was
to make love to a woman. Now they had got past her initial passionate fury
they were kissing with a tenderness and subtlety that Sue had never had from
any of her male lovers. While she still wanted to be taken, ravished,
plundered, she was appreciating that, where her male lovers had grabbed and groped,
Trixie would stroke and caress. In particular Trixie didn't make an instant
grab for her breasts and groin, nor did she play with her nipples as if
they were the controls of a radio and, for that, Sue was grateful. But, for all
that this was softer, gentler, than her male partners, it didn't mean that
it was any less erotic.
However, as the caresses continued, and the heat between them continued to
grow, Sue was beginning to wish Trixie would make a grab for her breast or
her groin. The urgency of her need simply wasn't being met by this gentle
approach and if Trixie wasn't going to do anything then she would have to. She
rubbed their breasts together and this tugged on the clips holding the
bells, sending zigzag shafts of pain through her aiming straight for the centre
of her pleasure. She did it again and again and then Trixie got the message.
She pulled back from the kiss and, reaching for Sue's breasts, started to
play with the clips. The pain was really quite sharp but, whether because of
the endorphins, the sexual high, or simply the atmosphere, it was one of the
most exciting things Sue had ever experienced. She shuffled forwards so that
their thighs interlocked further and kept doing so until her groin was
resting on Trixie's knee. Now she could really get to work. As Trixie played
with her nipples she forced her groin forward, rubbing it up and down, up and
down. As to whether this was the `passionate show' that the Countess had
demanded, she neither knew nor cared. She was so close, so damn close, so
very....
"Stop! Enough!" the Countess called out.
But this time Sue wasn't stopping. All her good intentions about being the
well-behaved slave had gone out of the window. She had one need, one desire,
one goal and stopping was not on the agenda. Trixie must have sensed this
because she grabbed both of the clips and squeezed. The explosion of pain
rocked through Sue's body and, in response, she ground herself down so that her
whole weight seemed to be pressing down on Trixie's knee. Great waves of
intense emotion wracked her body and she had to hang on to Trixie just to stay
upright. The rule of silence was also well and truly broken as, fired by
the force of the sensations running through every inch of her body, she cried
out, not words but cries, cries mixed with both joy and of pain.
And then the wave broke, she could take no more and, exhausted to her very
roots, she slumped forward and would have fallen to the bed had Trixie not
held her.
Over Sue's shoulder Angela exchanged a grin with Fiona. This was not
strictly according to the plan but there was no doubt that the client had had what
she was paying for. The strength and intensity of her orgasm were
unmistakable. However, as the client returned back to earth it was time to revert to
the script.
"Oh, dear, little Rosalita," the Countess said with regret, "how you
disappoint me. You were doing so well but you couldn't control yourself and now I'
ll have to punish you. Trixie, sweetie, go and prepare the horse, will you?"
Trixie lowered Sue gently to the bed and then slipped off to the main room
of the suite. The Countess came over and sat down on the bed next to Sue.
She reached out and gently stroked the still shaking body of her `slave'.
"I'm sorry, so sorry, Countess," Sue replied, horrified at just how wrong
her `be obedient' policy was going. "I just couldn't help myself. My
passion... it...."
"Oh, I understand, you have so much passion that you lost control. You're
such a pretty little thing, little Rosalita, and you have such a gift of
natural passion, that I'm glad I bought you, even if you cost more than I
planned to spend. But that doesn't make it right. You disobeyed me and that will
never do. I will have to teach you self control; the paddle and the crop
will do that for me. Now you must be punished, not a lot, just enough to help
you learn. Come, child."


Mistaken Identity Chapter 17
============================================================================
The Countess took Sue's hand and stood up leading her gently off the bed
and through to the main room of the suite. Sue was still so shell-shocked from
her orgasm that she hadn't fully taken in what the Countess had said and it
wasn't until she saw the horse that she put up any resistance. The Countess
gripped her wrist firmly and Trixie came across and took Sue's other hand.
Together they half led, half dragged Sue towards the horse.
"But... please... Countess," Sue stuttered as she pulled back from their
grip.
"Come along now, don't make this worse than it already is," the Countess
said sternly. "You're in enough trouble already and if you don't start
behaving I'll only have to punish you more. If you don't go over the horse
willingly then I will be forced to call for help and you will be made to go over.
Trust me when I tell you that you don't want that to happen. Now, are you
going to behave?"
Whether it was the Countess's words or her tone that got to Sue is
immaterial. The threat was real enough and she was currently not doing very well in
her campaign to allay suspicion by being a well-behaved slave. If she was
going to have to go over the horse it would be best if she went of her own
accord. Maybe it would help alleviate the worst of what was to come.
"I'm sorry, Countess," she said, bowing her head and allowed herself to be
led towards the horse. "I was forgetting myself."
The horse was a little more than waist height with a broad leather padded
top and, inevitably, was fitted with leather cuffs attached by chains to the
bottom of the four legs. Indeed, it appeared to have been designed
specifically for punishment rather than any real gymnastic use. Guided by the
Countess and Trixie, Sue lay across the top and, as her wrists were cuffed to the
legs, so her feet were lifted off the ground and she was entirely supported
by her stomach. This done, Trixie and the Countess went round to her ankles
and Sue felt herself being spread wide as they were similarly fastened. She
glanced sideways to where a full sized mirror hung on the wall and she could
see her reflection. Upended and wide open, ready for a spanking, there was
no dignity left to her at all.
"Now then, little Rosalita," the Countess said, coming up behind her and
gently stroking her finger up and down the crease of Sue's buttocks. "You
are new to this so I shall be gentle. I shall use a paddle, not a crop or a
whip, and maybe twenty strokes will be enough to remind you in future. What do
you say?"
"Err...," Sue tried to think herself into the role of the compliant slave.
She was supposed to be grateful for everything the Countess did to her. Was
she supposed to be grateful for this as well? "Thank you," she essayed.
"Thank you, is that all?" the Countess's tone was icy.
"I'm sorry, Countess, I'm grateful, really I am. I want to be better, I
want to learn self control. Please, please don't hurt me too much."
"That's better," the Countess replied. "That's more like it." She seemed
in no hurry to start the punishment; rather she continued play with Sue's
buttocks. She let her fingertips stray over Sue's sphincter, feeling her
tense as she gently probed.
In fact Fiona was mulling over her next move. This punishment scenario was,
once more, straight from the script but, as with the head shaving, she was
well aware that there was often a gap between what the clients asked for and
what they really wanted. After all, levels of pain tolerance varied widely.
She prided herself on being able to read the client's real wants and hated
the rare occasion when she heard the go-slow word or, worse still, the stop
word. But this client was different and almost impossible to read. The way
she had baulked when she had seen the horse spoke volumes; she certainly wasn'
t looking forward to this in the way that many of the clients did. On the
other hand she had capitulated easily and there had been neither hide nor
hair of any safe words. It was like the head shave. Before they had done it
Fiona could have sworn that the client was horrified at the prospect but, once
they had started she had really got off on it. Anyway, the solution was
simple. She would use a moderate paddle, nothing too heavy, start off easy and
slowly ramp it up until the client started to show signs of distress. She'd
stop from time to time and keep a close eye on things; that way she could
judge just how much the client really wanted.
With this in mind she went to the chest of drawers and fetched out a
suitable paddle. Then, because its flowing lines got in the way of her swing, she
ordered Trixie to take off her dressing gown and, dressed only in her shift,
returned to where Sue was upended over the horse.
Although she enjoyed playing the Domme, Fiona was no sadist. She would
never want to really hurt someone but the sight of Sue's twin shapely globes so
nicely presented to her simply called out to be thoroughly spanked. She was
professional enough to enjoy her work whatever the client but this one, who
was both as cute as a button and deliciously submissive, was a real joy.
Again she traced the outline of the twin upended globes, enjoying the
anticipation of what she was about to do.
"And why do I have to punish you, little Rosalita?" the Countess asked.
"I... I came without permission," Sue replied.
"Indeed, little Rosalita, but it's far more than that. You must learn
that, from now on, you are my toy, my plaything. When you put your pleasure
before mine, when you let your needs rather than mine dictate your actions, then
you are less than I demand, less than you can be. When you learn to serve,
really serve, then you will be something very special. You want to be
something special, don't you?"
"Yes, Countess", Sue replied although she felt she would have preferred to
be someone special rather than something special.
"Well then, I'm helping you become what you want to be. That's why you
should be grateful. Are you grateful for me helping you so?"
"Yes, Countess, thank you, Countess."
"So grateful that you would like me to add another ten strokes of the
paddle to really drive the message home?"
"Please, Countess...," Sue started automatically, and then realised she
had effectively asked for ten more strokes of the paddle. However, she couldn'
t see an easy way to get out of this so she just kept quiet.
And the worst of it was that, all during this conversation, the Countess
was spending more and more time playing with her fingers in the groove between
Sue's buttocks. To Sue's consternation this was, for some reason,
incredibly erotic and, when the Countess's fingers reached far enough to start
playing with Sue's labia, she couldn't help but respond, to push back, to open
herself up as far as her restraints would let her. The Countess noticed this
and probed further until the tip of her forefinger was gently stroking Sue's
clitoral hood.
"And does little Rosalita like being played with?"
"Yes, Countess, thank you, Countess." And she did. Sue's life was turning
topsy-turvy and not just because of the upended position she was currently
in. This bizarre world where she was some sort of sex toy for this mad
Venezuelan Countess should have been terrifying but her libido was saying
otherwise. She hadn't really come down from the orgasm she had had rubbing herself
against Trixie's knee and now it wasn't just the Countess's finger in her
pussy that she wanted, she actually craved the sting of the paddle against her
buttocks. The jolt of pain from the clamps around her nipples had been the
force behind the intensity of her last orgasm and something told her that
there was a fair chance that a spanked bottom would have the same effect. Even
now, the throbbing coming from her nipples where the clamps still grasped
them was part and parcel of the reason she was still flying high.
And then the Countess took her hand away and, smack, the first blow landed.
It stung rather than hurt but that didn't stop Sue's whole body jerking
forward and this made the bells hanging from her nipples swing about, tinkling
as the clips they were attached to tugged at her nipples. Smack, the next
blow landed, and the next, and the next. Each blow in itself wasn't too bad
but the cumulative effect was increasingly hard to bear and Sue couldn't help
but give little yelps of pain.
After ten blows of the paddle the Countess paused for a moment and let the
tips of her fingers gently glide over the twin globes of Sue's battered
buttocks. Sue winced as she did so but managed to keep quiet.
"And is little Rosalita learning her lesson?" the Countess asked. She let
her fingers trace down to where the glistening edges of Sue's labia spoke of
her continued arousal. She probed inside to once again play with the
sensitive flesh concealed within. "Well? Answer me. Are you learning that your
pleasure is to give me pleasure?"
"Yes, Countess, I am, Countess," Sue replied somewhat breathlessly.
"Then you will welcome the next ten stokes to help drive home the lesson.
Look how good I'm being to you. What do you say?"
"Thank you, Countess, thank you." Sue had been expecting this and,
curiously, she actually meant some of it. The combination of the warm glow from her
butt cheeks and the Countess's finger playing with her pleasure button was,
once more, driving her towards an orgasm and she was unashamedly pushing
back, rubbing herself against the Countess's hand as much as the Countess's
hand was rubbing her. The Countess let her ride like this for a while before
withdrawing. Sue couldn't suppress a sigh as, realising that the stimulation
was over, she flopped back down on the horse.
"Now, let's continue, shall we?" the Countess said sweetly. "I believe we
have ten more strokes to go."
Fiona, reassured by the obvious arousal of the client, set too with the
paddle striking a shade harder against the already inflamed flesh. With each
stroke Sue couldn't suppress a mew of pain and her eyes were filling with
tears. However this didn't stop the need between her thighs and, as she squirmed
about, she wished she could just bring some pressure to bear, something,
anything, to feed this hunger.
"...and twenty," the Countess said as the last stroke fell. "There, little
Rosalita, that wasn't so bad, was it? Now, what do you say?"
For a moment Sue couldn't say anything. Her backside was on fire but that
was nothing compared to the need between her thighs. She wanted to beg, to
plead, to promise anything just to get the Countess's fingers back, just to
give her the relief she so badly needed. However, even though her thoughts
were in turmoil, she knew that pleading was bound to fail. Her best course of
action would be to appear compliant and hope, pray, that the Countess would
take pity on her and allow her further relief.
"Thank you, Countess," she said, rather unsteadily. "Little Rosalita is
grateful for her punishment."
"And have you learnt your lesson? Will you be a good little girl and only
come when I allow it?" the Countess, once again, reached between Sue's
thighs. She cupped her hand and Sue gratefully pushed back, twisting and turning
as much as her bonds would allow. The Countess looked over at Trixie and
mouthed the word `rabbit'. Trixie gave a grin in reply and went to the
relevant drawer and fetched out the vibrator and handed it to the Countess. She
removed her hand and started to use the tip of the vibrator to stroke up and
down Sue's labia, which seemed to open up and welcome the invader. There was
no doubting the extent of Sue's arousal now as the full length of the rabbit
slid smoothly inside her eliciting a groan of `Oh my god!' from Sue. Once
the rabbit was fully inside the Countess switched it on to a low setting.
"Ooh, little Rosalita likes that, doesn't she?"
"Yes, Countess, thank you, Countess," Sue gasped.
"But you're still not to come unless I allow it. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Countess, of course, Countess."
In truth Sue was seriously conflicted. She knew she shouldn't come and, as
such, she should do everything possible to avoid coming. On the other hand
that was like putting a chocolate gateau in front of a starving chocoholic
and telling her not to eat it. She wasn't sure that there was that much
self-control in the world. The feel of the rabbit, the way that it filled her up
while, simultaneously, hitting all those sensitive spots was just heavenly.
So much of her wanted just that little bit more, that little bit that would
push her over the edge, that bit which would let her release all this pent up
tension and to hell with the consequences.
Fiona turned the rabbit up another notch. She could tell that the client
was right on the edge of coming and her job was to keep her there. As the
Countess she would strongly disapprove were little Rosalita to come again. As
Fiona her job was to give the client the best orgasm possible, to make her
come despite herself. She eased the rabbit back and forth a bit and each time
she pushed it inwards, pushing the rabbit bit against the client's clitoris,
the client found it harder and harder to control herself.


Mistaken Identity Chapter 18
============================================================================
While Fiona was busy teasing Sue, Sarah Bolton was pulling into the car
park outside. The Hollywood trip had been successful; she had made significant
headway with a potential new client who had been particularly impressed by
the discretion and professionalism of her organization. The potential client'
s goody-two-shoes on-screen image would be badly tarnished if her adoring
fans knew of her real proclivities. Sarah had been a little concerned that she
had not been there to oversee this first session with Jennifer Harris but
was content that there was nothing that Fiona and the rest of the cast couldn'
t handle and, anyway, except when she had been in the air, her mobile had
been on at all times. She parked up her `S' class Mercedes and went inside.
Gill and Ruth were on duty in the control area and, as she came up behind
them she glanced through the one-way mirror where she could see Fiona and
Angela in role as the Countess and Trixie along with the client who was upended
over a horse. The client was facing away from the mirror so Sarah couldn't
see her face but the tanned backside spoke volumes about how they were
proceeding.
"All well?" she asked Gill.
"Fine boss. She's just had a paddling and now Fiona and Angela are doing
the orgasm denial bit. She's a strange one, though."
"Strange?" Sarah's anxiety about not supervising this one from the start
moved up a notch. "How do you mean?"
"Well, it's as if she actually believes it," Gill replied. "I've never
known any client get so deep into the role."
"But she's getting off on it?"
"Oh yeah. Fiona and I have both been making sure of that. What's more, she
came like a really good on the auction post, she came again this morning
doing a show for `the Countess' and, if I'm any judge, she's right on the
edge of another."
Sarah went over to the controls and flicked the switch, which enabled the
hidden microphones so that they could hear what was going on. The client was
far from silent but moans and mewing sounds she was making were certainly
not those of a woman in distress. They watched as Fiona once more eased the
rabbit out, leaving just the tip inside her and the plaintive wail from the
client was almost painful to hear. Still, this was what she had signed up for
and there was no denying how aroused she was. She watched through the
one-way mirror as, once more, Fiona eased the rabbit back deep inside the client,
forcing a groan from her lips.
Sue would have preferred to be paddled again, better than this endless
teasing. Time and time again that bitch of a Countess was taking her right to
the edge and yet, every time, she was denied relief. But it wasn't just the
vibrator doing its stuff that was fuelling this crisis; the still warm glow
from her buttocks and the constant throbbing from the clamps on her nipples
were adding their piquancy to the mix and, whisper it quietly, the whole
scenario, upended over a horse and at another's mercy, was equally disturbing.
This time the Countess seemed to be holding the rabbit inside her for longer.
She knew she had been forbidden to come and part of her was terrified at the
prospect of another beating but, quite frankly, she had little control over
it and, as the nubbin on the side, the rabbit bit, played with her
clitoris, she could feel the dam breaking within her. She tried, with limited
success, to bottle up all the cries that threatened to burst from her but the
tension kept on building and... and....
The climax, when it came, was overwhelming. Every nerve in Sue's body
seemed to be singing out in release and she was barely aware of where she was or
what she was doing. She seemed to float away, mindless, formless, lost in a
soft haze. Dimly, at the edge of reason, she was aware of the rabbit inside
her, and the Countess controlling it, but she was too enraptured by the
experience to really care. Slowly the dream began to unravel, slowly she
returned to earth, slowly her world came back into focus and, exhausted and
depleted, she collapsed across the horse. If she were to receive further punishment
then she didn't care; at that moment she didn't care about anything.
Fiona removed the rabbit and let the client get her breath back.
"Oh dear, little Rosalita, it looks like you haven't learnt after all.
Maybe the crop will help push the message home."


Mistaken Identity Chapter 19
============================================================================
Sue just lay there, flopped over the horse, overpowered by it all.
Back in the control room Sarah, satisfied that Fiona had everything under
control, switched off the microphone and poured herself a cup of coffee. When
she turned back to the one-way mirror Fiona was stroking the client's
backside with the riding crop. It looked as if this particular client really did
want the full package.
Sarah went to her office and settled down to the inevitable paperwork. In
one corner there was the box containing the client's possessions: her shoes,
her coat, her handbag and her umbrella. Her clothes, of course, had been
destroyed as part of the `preparation for auction'. Again and again it caught
Sarah's eye. There was something not quite right but she couldn't put her
finger on it. In the end she had to go over and look closer. It was the
umbrella, there was something wrong about the umbrella. She pulled it out and,
sure enough, it wasn't the real thing, it was a copy and not a particularly
good one at that. She'd got a pretty good feel for Jennifer Harris during the
initial interviews and it simply wasn't like her to have a knock off copy of
a Gucci umbrella; surely she'd have the real thing. She reached for the
handbag, rummaged around inside and found the client's purse with all the false
documents. Once glance at the driving license was enough. The name was
right, Susan Brown, but the address was wrong. Her stomach lurched at the
implications and she felt as if she were going to vomit. With shaking hands she
reached for the phone and dialed her legal advisor.
"Francine, hi, it's Sarah," she said once the connection had been made. "
Look, think I've got a crisis, a big crisis. Can you get down to the
warehouse, right away? .... Yes, I know it's Saturday but I need you here soonest.
... What sort of crisis? It's a total fucking nightmare. I think we may have
kidnapped the wrong woman. No, I'm not joking. I only wish I was. Now, how
soon can you get here?"
Assured that Francine was on her way, Sarah went down to the control
centre. She looked through the one-way mirror. The client, or rather, the
non-client, was still over the horse. Vivid red wheals on the back of the non-client'
s legs attested to the way the crop had been used. Sarah couldn't see her
backside as it was obscured by Angela who was, judging by the straps around
her backside and rhythmic movements of her hips, Sodom sing the client with a
strap-on. Sarah knew she ought to stop it, she ought to stop it right away,
but, as a way of putting off the inevitable, first she felt she had to make
completely sure. She turned to Ruth and asked her if she had a recording of
the auction. Sure enough Ruth had kept the footage from the webcam and,
after a few keystrokes, it was playing on her monitor.
Sarah asked Ruth to stop playback and zoom in on the `client's' face. She
already knew what to expect but this confirmed it beyond doubt. There, tied
to the auction post, was a woman Sarah had never seen before, and,
furthermore, definitely not Jennifer Harris. She couldn't, in all conscience, put it
off any longer; at the end of the day she was responsible for the actions of
her company and she had to release this woman from her torment. She walked
round to the door of the set and went inside.
Sue was in a strange place. As a punishment for failing to control herself
the Countess had given her a dozen strokes with the riding crop. The paddle
had stung, stung enough to bring tears to her eyes, but it was nothing
compared with the crop. Sue had howled, unashamedly and unreservedly, as the crop
had left its ribbons of fire not just across her already battered backside
but also down the backs of her thighs.
And, if that were not enough, the Countess had decided to reinforce the
message by having her Trixie fuck her up the arse with a strap-on. To be fair
they had used plenty of lubricant but she still felt stretched to the limit
as the rigid invader was forced inside her bowels.
But this was the strange part. Her stretched sphincter, the still burning
wheals, the clamps on her nipples, all of them hurt, really hurt, but,
between them, they had taken her to a place where she was almost serene, detached,
almost as if this were happening to someone else. Now she actually welcomed
the thrusts from the strap-on, actually wanted the abuse. During her
college years she had dabbled in some of the milder drugs but neither ecstasy nor
hash had ever given her a high like this.
She was so far gone she was barely aware of the door opening and the sudden
commotion around her. She felt the strap-on being eased from her anus and
the cuffs around her ankles and wrists being released. Someone, she assumed
Trixie helped her to gently slide back onto her feet, the clamps from her
nipples were removed and she was led across to a sofa where she lay down.
Trixie went to the door and, reaching outside, fetched both dressing gowns, one
of which she brought back and laid over Sue as a sort of blanket, the other
she put on. As the mists cleared Sue looked up and there was this strange
woman looking at her.
"What now," Sue thought to herself.


Mistaken Identity Chapter 20
============================================================================
"Miss Brown," the woman said, "my name is Sarah and I run an organization
called Executive Fantasies. I'm afraid to say that you have been the victim
of a series of very unfortunate coincidences."
"Executive Fantasies? What the fuck?! "
"Miss Brown, as you may know, there are those who have fantasies of being
abducted and mistreated. My company provides the means by which those
fantasies can be made real. Everything that has happened to you here was actually
the voluntary request of one of our clients. Unfortunately, well, as I say,
there were a series of unfortunate coincidences and, well, there's no beating
around the bush, we got the wrong woman."
As Sue came down from the subspace high her mistreated body started to
complain. Her buttocks and the back of her thighs were on fire, her nipples
throbbed and her backside seemed to have been stretched beyond repair. Moreover
she was beginning to make sense of what this woman was saying.
"So...all this...it's not real...it's just somebody's sick fantasy...and
you... you...you got the wrong bloody woman! Do you know what they've done
to me! Do you have any idea what I've been through!" Sue sat up, wincing as
her buttocks touched the sofa, and got to her feet. She took the dressing
gown and wrapped it around her. "So what happens now? What's to stop me going
straight to the police?"
"Please, Miss Brown, I do understand your distress and, yes, I do know what
you've been through. As for going to the police, I'd ask you to hang fire
for a moment or two. My legal advisor is on her way and, when she arrives,
maybe we can persuade you not to go. Look, I know you haven't had any
breakfast yet. Why don't you go with Angela and let us get you some coffee at least?
"
"Breakfast! After all you've put me through you think you can push me off
with breakfast! And who the fuck is Angela?"
"Please, Miss Brown, I'm not trying to push you off. Really I'm not. It's
just that making this right is going to take a moment or two to organize. I'
m working as hard as I can to find an acceptable solution and, while you're
waiting, I'd like to offer you some breakfast."
"And who's Angela?" Sue repeated.
"I believe you know her as Trixie. And, while we're at it, can I also
introduce you to Fiona?"
Sue looked across at Angela and Fiona who smiled back sheepishly.
"So, not a Venezuelan Countess, then."
"Just a girl from Croydon, I'm afraid," Fiona answered.
Sue looked from Angela to Fiona and back again. They smiled back sheepishly
and it was getting harder and harder to stay cross with them. Oh, sure, she
was still furious at this Sarah woman and her offhanded ease but she was
starting to realize that she hadn't got that many options. She was still stark
naked except for the dressing gown and effectively trapped in whatever
hellhole they were keeping her in. She had no idea what this woman could do to `
sort things out' but she might as well see what was on offer and, in the
meanwhile, her rumbling stomach was demanding food.
"OK," she said reluctantly. "And, while we're at it, some clothes would
be nice. Maybe you've forgotten that mine were shredded and I haven't got a
stitch to wear. What are you going to do about that?"
"I can assure you I hadn't forgotten. If you'll just go with Angela she'
ll show you the clothes we keep for exactly that reason. You'll find we have
a number of items in a number of styles. Please feel free to choose anything
you want with our compliments. Now. If you'll excuse me, I have much to
arrange.  Angela, perhaps you could take Miss Brown to the debriefing room.
Fiona, do you think you could arrange some breakfast?"
"Whatever you're arranging it had better be good," Sue said to Sarah
before turning to Angela. "Come along then, take me to this debriefing room."
The "debriefing room" turned out to be a lounge with an attached bathroom.
On one wall there was a wardrobe, a chest of drawers and a dressing table.
The first thing Sue noticed on the dressing table was the three mannequin
heads, each with a wig. This brought back to her that she had had her head
shaved and she went to the dressing table and looked at herself in the mirror.
"Oh my god!" she exclaimed. "Look at the state of this."
"I'm sorry," Angela started. "If we'd have known...."
"Do you do this often?" Sue asked, stroking her bald head as if she still
didn't believe she had been shaven.
"Quite a bit. Well, not so much the head shaving, that's a bit special,
but the general gist is mostly the same."
Sue gave Angela a long hard look as she fully took in what she was saying.
"And you, you don't mind being..." Sue wasn't sure where this question
was leading.
"I think of myself as an actress," Angela replied. "We act out the client'
s fantasies, make them come `real'. OK, so it's not the sort of job you
tell mum about but the pay's good and, to tell the truth, the job's not so
bad either. I mean...well..." Angela gave a shy smile, "I get to fool around
with lots of attractive women. I probably shouldn't say this but I thought
we had quite a bit of fun together. You have a talented tongue and I enjoyed
showering with you..."
Angela's shy smile was infectious and Sue started to see the humor in it
all. Her frown turned into a smile and then a giggle. It's hard to feel mean
towards someone with whom you have had extreme sex only minutes ago and,
after all, Angela was not the guilty party here.
"So, what happens now?" Sue asked.
"Well, the bathroom's through there and we have clothes and a selection of
wigs all set out for you. Of course, the sizes may be a bit out as we
bought for the original client but we'll see what we can do. If necessary I guess
one of us can do a run to the shops for you."
Angela and Sue went over to the chest of drawers and sorted through the
underwear. There was no doubting that it was all top of the range stuff and all
brand new. Unfortunately, when she tried them on, the bras were all the
wrong size so Sue had to compromise with a chemise top and matching panties,
both in pure silk. She put these on and was just searching through the
wardrobe when Fiona arrived with the breakfast trolley. She'd brought enough for
them all so she stayed to chat. Sue took a break from the wardrobe and started
off with some much-needed coffee. The smell of freshly warmed croissants
reminded her how hungry she was, so she had one of those as well, with a pat
of butter and some little scarlet strawberry preserves. Now that they were
all out of role she found that Fiona was just as friendly as Angela and the
three of them were getting along fine. They had made serious inroads into the
breakfast trolley and were still chatting when Sara and yet another woman
entered.
"Ah, Miss Brown, I do hope Fiona and Angela are looking after you OK.
Please let me introduce Francine, my legal advisor. Why don't you take a seat? We'
d like to talk to you about what happens next."
"I'll stand, if you don't mind," Sue said firmly. "I'm not sure I'm
going to be sitting comfortably for quite a while."
"As you wish. I hope you don't mind if we sit," Sarah replied as she and
Francine sat down. Sarah nodded to Francine to start.
"Miss Brown," Francine began, "whilst Executive Fantasies cannot admit any
liability they wish to express their sincere regret over the unfortunate
circumstances which have brought you here. Furthermore we wish to reach an
agreement satisfactory to all parties.
"I gather from my client that you are considering legal action, in short
that you wish to go to the police. There are a number of reasons why this is
not seen as a satisfactory outcome and, without going into details, if you
insist on persisting in this course of action, Executive Fantasies will be
forced to do everything in their power to ensure that your knowledge of their
personnel and this location is kept to a minimum. I might also mention, at
this point, that Executive Fantasies has a number of influential clients and,
if necessary, would use every method possible to discredit you and the
meager information you already know.
"However, we sincerely hope that it never comes to that. We'd be far
happier with a more amicable outcome. Perhaps you would like to cast your eyes
over this offer." Francine opened her briefcase and handed Sue a file. Sue
opened it and the first thing she saw was an official looking piece of paper
with a large sum of money printed on it.
"What's this?" she asked.
"That is a banker's draft. It's a bit like a check except you don't know
the name of the payee. That is the sum Executive Fantasies is prepared to
offer in consideration of any inconvenience you may have suffered. However,
before you make your mind up, you should also read the attached contract."
Sue tried to read through the contract but it was full of the legal
gobble-de-gook and totally impenetrable. She could, however, understand the gist of
it. If she were to divulge any knowledge of Executive Fantasies to anyone
then she would be personally liable for a sum considerably greater than the
one on the banker's draft. She looked again at the sum being offered. She
would have to work several years to earn that much and here she was being
offered it on a plate. Evidently there was good money in Executive Fantasies. No
wonder they were so keen to keep it a secret.
"I need some time to think this over," she said. "Maybe, if you could
leave me alone for a while. Anyway, I need to finish getting dressed."
"Of course," Sarah answered. "By the way, here's your handbag. We've kept
your mobile phone, for the moment, if you don't mind."
"And even if I do," Sue said with a laugh. Sarah gave a rueful smile.
"Just knock on the door when you're ready. Angela will wait outside and she
'll come and fetch us when you're ready to talk again."
And with that they all trooped out.
Sue stared at the banker's draft. It really was silly money. Then she went
over to the wardrobe. All the clothes were, as with the underwear, top of
the range stuff from the best West End stores, stuff that would normally be
well beyond her means. She wondered about the real client. How rich would they
have to be to afford all this? She chose a trouser suit in navy blue and
looked at herself in the mirror. She looked fabulous. If only she could afford
clothes like this.
And that was when the plan started. Well, the initial seeds had been sown
by Angela, but that was when it started to make sense. Sure, she'd accept the
banker's draft, Executive Fantasies were going to have to pay, but there
would be more to it that that. She went to the door, knocked on it and, when
Angela answered she told her that she was ready to talk. Two minutes later
Sarah and Francine were walking back into the room.
"I have a slightly different suggestion," Sue started. ? One that might
suit both of us.


Mistaken Identity Chapter 21 - Six months later
============================================================================
Sue, her hands locked behind her back, shuffled across the floor on her
knees. Fiona, as ever, looked magnificent as she stood over her in her role as
the Countess. Beside her, also on their knees, were the two other `slaves',
Angela in role as Trixie and Jennifer, today's client. Sue had only glanced
at the script. She found it easier to stay in role if she didn't know
exactly what was coming and, ever since she had joined the cast after that
fateful weekend, she had grown to trust that whatever was meted out would be
thrilling and fabulously sexy. But, even though she didn't know the details she
knew that before the weekend was over she would be getting as good as she
gave. Not only would her tongue be well used but she would also be on the
receiving end.
Right now, though, it was time to play her part. She leant forward and
kissed the Countess's toes. She felt the riding crop tracing the outline of her
naked buttock and, even before the first blow, she felt her juices flow. All
this and a fat paycheck at the end of the day; this was real job
satisfaction!
============================================================================

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