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Message-ID: <27675asstr$975816608@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "patreganregan" <patreganregan@supanet.com>
Subject: {ASSM} The Initiation
Date: Sat,  2 Dec 2000 23:10:08 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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The attached is a story entitled "The Initiation" in revised format for publication as an alt.sex. story. I hope this format is OK. The e-mail from M.T.Head, 19/11/00 refers. The work is Copyright (C) 2000, by Pat Regan. I am new to writing and this is my first submission to anyone.  I would be grateful therefore if you would add whatever warnings, caveats etc you think appropriate.The story is fictional but draws in part on my personal experiences.  Comments would be welcome.  Thank you, Pat Regan. 

<1st attachment, "Init. 1a.txt" begin>

	            THE INITIATION  (F/M bdsm)


She looped the last noose round his belly and secured the rope to 
an eyebolt.

"I'm sorry to do this to you but it's got to be done"   Hattie 
was duty mistress for the evening at the Night Owl Club and just 
a little bit nervous.  Paul was being punished in the basement 
for some misdemeanor upstairs in the main clubroom.  Although 
standing in the middle of the dungeon, his legs were stretched 
apart by the largest leg spreader Hattie could find in the 
"Instrument" cupboard.  His torso was now held pretty firmly by 
no less than four ropes to eyebolts in the basement walls -north, 
south, east and west, so to speak, each rope having a noose round 
his belly.

"So all I have to do is tighten each one in turn so that each 
noose bites into your skin - which might be a bit painful in 
itself.  But it also has the added advantage that you can hardly 
move."   Hattie, -all five foot two of her petite frame, -was 
going to make sure Paul paid the penalty in full not least 
because she was missing all the fun going on upstairs. But on the 
other hand she was very new to this punishment business and part 
of her was quite startled at herself for getting into such a 
situation.

"There's one  ... and now another.   Go on fight it as much as 
you want."  She began to savour the job; after all, having a 
totally naked hunk under your control was, - well let's face it, 
exciting.  Each heave produced sounds that passed for groans and 
she even toyed with the idea of removing the gag so that she 
could appreciate the full volume.

"Last one -let me give it just one more heave -there, you'll have 
four very red circles around your belly -all with the deep 
imprint of rope.  It'll be a nice artistic reminder for you of 
this little session for the next few days."   Hattie stood back 
and surveyed her handiwork - and suddenly, what she thought of as 
her better self, had mixed feelings about the whole affair.  In 
point of fact she hadn't "disciplined" anyone before, although 
she had watched her friend Patsy whip someone.  At the time 
Hattie had been impressed by Patsy's almost professional 
performance as Club "Mistress" and had wondered how she would 
feel in that role; how far would she dare to go?   Indeed, how 
far would she want to go?  But now she was not only amazed at 
herself for beginning to enjoy this feeling of total control she 
wielded over Paul but also more than slightly shocked -and 
guilty- as it gradually dawned on her that she had uncovered a 
hitherto unknown sadistic streak in her make up.

This was definitely uncharted territory so far as little Hattie 
was concerned.  Each club night the duty mistress (or master) was 
selected in rotation from a list of volunteers.  In point of 
factit was only seldom that the club President ordered anyone to 
be disciplined. Encouraged - even bullied- by Patsy, Hattie had 
very reluctantly agreed to have her name put on the rota and now 
here she was, a normally quiet gentle girl of nineteen, 
developing into a budding dominatrix.

"Now what can I do with your arms?"  Hattie was thinking out 
loud, wishing her friend would suddenly materialize - more for 
moral, or perhaps immoral, support than anything else. "Whipping 
seems to be out because all these ropes will get in the way -so 
it really doesn't matter where I tie your hands. I think I'll 
just handcuff them behind your back."

"So that just leaves your front.   Perhaps I'll go to work on 
your nipples.  We've got a variety of clothespins and clips, some 
more painful than others, or so my friend told me." She found 
chatting to her victim like this made her feel more relaxed, 
especially as he couldn't join in.  What it did for Paul was 
quite a different matter.  Part of Hattie rather suspected that 
if he could plead for mercy she might, -just might, release him. 
But no, she was duty mistress and the job had to be done. "Let's 
experiment with these clips."

"To start the torture they're clamped onto the root of the nipple 
-even perhaps onto the breast - but no worry, it isn't very 
painful there.  However the shape of the jaw is such that the 
clip tends to slide - very slowly, mind you - but slide it does -
to the tip of the nipple where it is excruciatingly painful."   
Patsy had demonstrated this particular clip on one of her own 
nipples but had wisely removed it before it slid to the tip.

Hattie was getting into the spirit of things. "So to make the 
torture last as long as possible I'm just going to wipe your 
nipples with surgical spirit to remove any greasiness - which 
would of course allow the clip to slide too quickly.    There 
that's done."  Another Patsy tip.

"Now for the first clip -- wasn't too bad was it?   And the 
second."

"OK, fight it if you like, -- you'll be really yelling in a 
minute."  Paul was thrashing about like a tormented demon but it 
only caused much painful chaffing as the ropes sawed round his 
belly.  "The only downside to these clips is that eventually they 
fall off -well I suppose that's a plus from your point of view."   
Hattie was beginning to get a real feel for this bondage business 
when Paul started a prolonged but muffled scream increasing in 
intensity as the clips did exactly what they were designed to do.  
He squirmed and shook - but his face said it all, the powerful 
clips were biting hard where it hurt the most.  His eyes were 
pleading with her to release him - but no, all Hate's initial 
reservations had gone and she settled down to enjoy the sight of 
him writhing in agony - until the clips fell off.

Hattie was fascinated by the spectacle- in part because she was 
clearly and unmistakably the dominant partner whereas in her more 
usual male-female relationships she was, shall we say, "equal" 
with just a hint of submissiveness. The fact that she wielded 
complete control over this gorgeous male was - well, 
intoxicating.  Not in the sense that she wanted to lay Paul there 
and then but intoxicating nevertheless.  Then a thought flashed 
through her mind.  What if Paul had been Pauline.?    It was not 
unknown for females to be disciplined.  How would she feel?  
Hattie was as hetero as they come so the sexual frisson would not 
be there.  Could she do it to someone of her own sex.  the so-
called weaker sex?  With barely a moments pause to she answered 
her own question - yes she definitely could.   And the more she 
thought about it the more attractive the idea became - the female 
body offered some different possibilities for inflicting pain and 
she began .. but at that moment the last clip clattered to the 
floor.
 
Yes, I think this just might be my scene, she mused.


Copyright 2000  Pat Regan


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