Rebecca Ch. 01

Author' note:

This is the first story of a three part series. The next part describes Rebecca's training from Sonja's perspective. The third part will focus on Rebecca's sister Alice. At the moment, I am working on the second part.

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My name is Rebecca Carter.

I was born on Friday, April 1, 1988, April Fool's Day. Many people think that this is the right birthday for a fool like me.

12 years ago I married Edward Carter. You may have read about him. He was the rich investment banker who died in a plane crash under suspicious circumstances. It was in all the papers at the time.

I inherited a small fortune. I bought this house in a quiet suburban neighborhood and invested most of the money for the long term. I agreed to regular payments from the investment income, but I wouldn't have access to the capital itself for the next 25 years. Although there was no need to work, I decided to work part-time in a real estate office. My working hours are Monday through Friday from 8:00 a.m. to noon.

My mother was divorced in 1993. She remarried and on Christmas 1994 my sister Alice was born.

Now you know enough to follow my story. Read it and then decide if I am a fool.

And this is my story:

"Tell me," I said to my friend Sonja, "do you think you can train a young woman to be a dominatrix?"

Sonja looked at me with her steel blue eyes. Then she took a sip of coffee and said: "Why do you ask? Are you the person who wants to be...?"

I blushed. "Yes! You know I like D/s games. And I'm also into heavy bondage."

Sonja looked at me thoughtfully. "There are plenty of experienced professional dommes. If you are looking for a session, I could put you in touch with an expert dominatrix. Bondage, humiliation, spanking... whatever you want."

"That's not what I'm looking for. What I want is a permanent domme/slave relationship!"

"You, you..." Sonja had such a good laugh that she was almost in tears. „I've known you since high school. You never let anyone tell you what to do! You were the one who made others do what you wanted. And now you want to become a slave?" She pronounced the word 'slave' in a way that clearly conveyed both incredulous amazement and amusement.

"You don't take me seriously!" I got a bit angry. "And it's not that I just want to be a slave. I want to be HER slave!"

"Oh my goodness! That sounds more like a teenager in love. Who is your dominatrix of choice anyway?"

"My neighbor's daughter, Jessica."

Sonja laughed. "You know as well as I do that at least 95% of all women think BDSM is something perverted, and of those who don't, most have submissive tendencies. You'd be better off with a dominant man. Also, you said she's your neighbor's daughter. How old is she?"

"She turned 18 this summer. And it's not exactly the neighbor's house, but it's only a two-minute walk."

"How do you even know her? Sure, you've seen her sometimes, but that's not enough."

I could see from the look on Sonja's face that she thought I was crazy. Maybe I really was crazy?

"When I broke my leg two years ago and could barely walk, she did my shopping, cleaned my house, and generally helped me. I dream about her ever since. The way she looks at me, the way she smiles, the way she raises her eyebrows. She was 16 at that time, much too young. I thought I would forget her. Now she's 18 and I want more than ever to be her slave!"

"At least she's an adult! What makes you think she is the right person to enslave you? Do you really think she has all the necessary qualities?

"What do you mean?"

Sonja made a list: "First of all, she must not think that BDSM is something disgusting. She has to be open to this kind of sex. That rules out most women. Second, she must have a dominant character. She has to like giving orders; she has to like having the power to make other people do what she wants. Third, she must be able to inflict pain on other people. Fourth, she must be able to tolerate her 'slave' screaming. This means that 999 out of 1000 women are probably out. And if she is the one in 1000 who has these qualities, what makes you think she wants to dominate you of all people? She's 18, you said. Even if you look good for your age, you're nearly twice her age. From her point of view, you're old!"

It was the first time in my life that someone had told me that I was 'old', or at least too old.

"I'm not old, I turned 36 last week. „I pouted a little bit. „As far as I can remember, you weren't much older than 18 when you started working as a professional dominatrix," I objected.

Sonja had started shortly after graduating from high school, first as an hourly assistant to 'Lady Dominique' whenever a second woman was needed. I was her best friend at the time, and she told me all about her experiences, how she found more and more pleasure in dominating clients, and I encouraged her when she considered taking over Lady Dominique's studio 10 years ago.

"This is true. One point for you!" Sonja admitted.

"If I'm remembering right, you always had a blast training older women. You always had a lot of fun when you had a client who was old enough to be your mother."

Sonja nodded. "Especially if it was one of those hypocritical women who pretended to be posh but were just a slut, who blush when someone uses a word like 'cunt'.

Her face showed that she was happy to remember that time. She smiled.

"I need another cup of coffee!" Sonja got up and went into her kitchen to fill the kettle with water. She obviously needed some time to think. When she came back with the fresh coffee, we drank it in silence for a while. I waited patiently, avoiding looking directly into her face. The warm spring sun shone through the open window onto the table. It was Sonja who, after a while, brought the silence to an end.

"Speaking of your neighbor's daughter, even if she's open-minded, that doesn't mean she has what it takes."

"But how can I find out if she is the one in a thousand unless I try? It would be inappropriate to go to her and ask her to be my mistress."

Sonja laughed and replied, "No, of course not, but I suppose you already have a plan.

Yes, I do," I replied. "Actually, I only have a vague idea."

"I'm listening."

"Before I explain my idea, I want to confirm that you are willing to train her, assuming she is the one in a thousand."

"I suppose I would be able to do that, but I don't know if I want to. I need more information before I decide. Tell me more!"

This was more of an order than a request. I didn't know anyone else who could train a beginner. Sonja was a professional dominatrix until she got pregnant. Although I was never one of her clients, I was sure that she was the best in her field. In addition to her clients, she also had her own personal slave, Carol, a young woman who adored her. Though Sonja never talked about it, it was obvious that Sonja had used carrots and sticks to mold her into her will-less plaything. How I would have loved to trade places with Carol. But then Sonja got pregnant. As soon as Sonja realized that she wouldn't be able to work as a dominatrix for much longer, she gave Carol to one of her colleagues and closed her studio. She married the father of her unborn child. The marriage was not happy and ended when Tom was three years old. Sonja, now a single mother, began working as a low-paid secretary in a small local business. After all, her ex-husband was paying for Tom. When they divorced, they had agreed that Tom would spend weekends with his father, leaving Sonja free to pursue her own interests.

I was in my thoughts when Sonja repeated: "What makes you think she is the one in a thousand who could be capable of being a domme?"

"I admit I don't have any reasons. It is more a wish."

"And even if," Sonja continued, "she starts training you, I know what will happen: After a few weeks, you will lose interest. I'm sure you'll chicken out as soon as the training gets really hard. You would quit. And she's inexperienced. She couldn't handle it."

"That's why she needs training. You can teach her what to do. You can teach her how to nip any resistance in the bud. Or better yet, how to make it impossible for me to resist in the first place. Ideally, I wouldn't even notice how Jessica gradually wraps me up until I'm hopelessly squirming in her web. Like a fly in a spider's web. Only she's not going to eat me, she's going to train me to be her taboo-free slave.

Sonja giggled. "You would make a really nice fly, a fat one. I know you are pretty well off."

Sonja was right. I'm not rolling in the dough, but from her perspective, I'm doing pretty well. Since my husband passed away in an accident, I've been living alone in my house. I'm pretty much my own woman now. I can do whatever I want in my house without anyone bothering me. And as for the money: I could even pay for my education.

Sonja interrupted my thoughts. She obviously didn't like my idea. "I don't think you have any idea what it means to be trained as a sex slave. It takes a while to be trained properly. And such training is very hard and painful. There will be blood, toil, tears, and sweat. It would change your entire personality. If that's what she wants, she would gradually turn you into a taboo-free slut.

"That's exactly what I want. I want to be trained to be a taboo-free slut."

It took me a while to get my thoughts in the right order. Of course, I had sex after my husband died, but... I had to admit to myself that I was thinking too much. That had always prevented me from enjoying sex. Back then, my husband had simply ordered me to undress and spread my legs. Apparently, I have to be forced to enjoy sex. Not that I wanted to be coerced by physical force. But it was good to have someone telling me what to do.

I tried to explain my thoughts to Sonja.

"It is a good idea to think about who you are letting yourself in for." Sonja remarked. "You want to pass the responsibility to someone else!"

I nodded. Sonja had got right to the heart of the matter.

"I know that you're not a domme anymore. But just a theoretical question: Would you be able to train me?"

"I don't know! It would be a change in your personality that I would have to do. I never worked on anybody's personality. Changing the personality of a person is a difficult task. In your case: from an intelligent person who is open to the world to a woman who has only one thing on her mind: Sex! But there are methods of brainwashing. I never thought of doing it for myself."

She looked at me. "Clothes make the man, ore in your case the woman. Forced to wear slutty clothing, forced to put on an exaggerated makeup could probably change your image of yourself."

She looked at me with a grin. "High heels, fake eyelashes and a push-up bra will make you look like a dumb bimbo."

I was a little disappointed. In my imagination I had already been Jessica's sex slave, spending my nights handcuffed to a hard wooden cod and forced to eat her pussy. And of course she would reward me afterwards. And sometimes she would beat me. Sonja would have trained Jessica to hit me where it would hurt the most. If I screamed, would Jessica become sexually aroused? In my fantasy she certainly would!

After a while Sonja continued: "How do you even imagine this? You can hardly ask the young lady to go to me and get trained to become a dominatrix."

I felt encouraged by this question. Obviously, Sonja was not fundamentally averse to the idea of training someone. So I explained my vision of the first steps to Sonja:

"I know you need a babysitter sometimes. I will send Jessica. Jessica is at an age when girls never have enough money. And while she works as Tom's babysitter, you can find out if she is the one in a thousand. And if she is, you will train her. As for the money: I will reimburse you for all your expenses."

"I think," said Sonja, "we will talk about it next week. Until then, you can think about whether you really want to become her slave. And I'll think about whether I want to."

I realized that it was time for me to say goodbye.

Two days later I received an email from Sonja:

"I have given your request a lot of thought. I think what you want is impossible, so forget it! I will not train such a young woman! I won't even talk to her about it. But I could use a babysitter. Send the young lady to me! But I'll pay her myself. I don't have as much money as you, but I have enough to pay my own babysitter."

I was disappointed. I tried to persuade Sonja several times, but each time she changed the subject. But three weeks later I fell in love with a young man and forgot all about it.

After six months I realized that he was more interested in my money than in me, so I broke it off.

After that, I had a few one-night stands, but nothing serious.

The year passed. It became summer and then fall. From time to time I saw Jessica from a distance. Once a neighbor told me that she had been accepted to art school and was studying photography. My life went on its own way. I spent Christmas and New Year's with my sister Alice. Then one cold day in January, Jessica rang my doorbell. I was surprised. Jessica had never stopped by since my leg was broken.

"Do you have a moment? I want to show you something, Ms. Carter."

I invited her in.

"I assume you've heard that I'm studying photography at art school. And your friend Sonja is a very good-looking woman. So I asked her if she would be willing to model for me. There are some photos of her on this memory stick," she said. "Would you like to see them?"

I took my laptop out of my study and turned it on. While my laptop booted up, she fidgeted with the memory stick in her hand. "Maybe you'll model for me one day? You look very different from your friend Sonja, but you are really good looking too. When the boot process was complete, she went on: "Sonja liked my pictures so much that she told me to show them to you."

I entered my password and said: "Then show me your photos! I am curious"

She plugged the flash drive into the USB port and said: "Just click on 'Slide Show'!"

In a few seconds, an almost perfect portrait of Sonja appeared on the screen. I was impressed.

She had captured Sonja's expression perfectly: a little mocking, a little superior, and, yes, even a little erotic.

"Did you do this?"

"Of course I did!"

"You're really talented."

Jessica smiled. I was flattered when she said I would have been another good model for her project.

The slideshow continued. Several portrait photos followed, all as good as the first.

Then came photos of Sonja standing, sitting on a chair, and then in a bikini in a garden.

Suddenly, a photo of Sonja naked appeared on the screen.

"Oops," Jessica blushed.

"I didn't mean to show you that."

Before I could really see it, Jessica had stopped the slideshow.

"Hey, I want to see that too!"

"Out of the question!"

"Show it to me!"

"No!"

"Yes, please!"

"No way!"

"Please!"

Jessica thought about it.

"On one condition!"

"What condition?"

"The condition is that I get to take pictures of you too, just like I did with Sonja, in the same poses. Then, I can decide which series to show my professor."

"Absolutely not!"

Jessica closed the notebook. "I have something to do anyway."

By now I was really curious.

"Okay, okay! You can take the pictures!"

"Swear!"

"I swear!

"I don't trust you. "

Jessica picked up her cell phone and dialed.

"Sonja? It's me, Jessica. I'm with Ms. Carter right now. I want you to listen to what she's about to tell me!"

Jessica handed me her cell phone.

"I swear! Jessica can take pictures of me just like she took pictures of you!"

"In the same poses!" Jessica added.

"In the same poses!" I repeated.

When I handed the phone back to Jessica, Sonja seemed to giggle. Yes, I could hear Sonja giggling.

Jessica said goodbye and ended the call.

"Now you can see the rest of the pictures."

Now I had a queasy feeling in my stomach. Had I made a promise that I would regret one day?

Jessica opened my notebook again and started the slide show. Jessica navigated to the nude photo of Sonja.

It was a classic nude photograph. Sonja had also turned her head so that her face was not visible. Her body was still flawless, you couldn't tell that she was now over 30 years old and had given birth to a child.

I couldn't imagine Jessica taking such good pictures of me. I am not nearly as good-looking as Sonja. But I was reassured. I could see no problem in posing nude for Jessica for a few pictures of this kind.

But the following pictures were clearly pornographic:

Sonja with her legs spread wide, Sonja pleasuring herself with her fingers, Sonja masturbating with a big black dildo, Sonja giving head.

I turned pale. It made me sick to think that Jessica would take pictures like that of me and show them to her fellow students. I felt dizzy.

"How on earth did you get Sonja to let you take those pictures?"

"I'll tell you when I have the photos of you. Is next Saturday a good time for you?"

I nodded silently.

The next Saturday, Jessica arrived early in the morning, loaded down with extensive, semi-professional camera equipment. She acted like a professional photographer.

She photographed me in the same poses in which she had photographed Sonja: first portraits, then nudes, and around noon a young man showed up for the photos of me giving head. By early afternoon everything was done. Jessica took her equipment and left. I was glad to be alone. I felt dirty. It makes a difference to do something like a blow job or to be photographed doing it. I really needed a hot bath.

About two weeks later, I received an e-mail from Sonja:

Dear Rebecca,

Do you remember that day last year when you asked me if I could (and would) train Jessica to be a dominatrix? Your dominatrix!

You also said that you wanted to be caught by her 'like a fly in a spider's web'.

I rejected this for two reasons:

I didn't know Jessica, and more importantly, if you knew I was training her, you would be on your guard. It would've been impossible to trick you without you realizing it. You shouldn't have noticed it until it was too late, until you were struggling helplessly in her web.

You know that she worked for me as a babysitter. We got to know each other and discovered how much we were alike. I did not fall in love, but I like Jessica a lot. The more I thought about it, the more I thought it'd be great to make you her sex slave. I decided to be her 'assistant spider'. I had no scruples. I knew that's what you wanted.

You even told me that if you could draw your mistress, she would be very strict and even mean. She would train you mercilessly. And she would look innocent and naive like Jessica. I can assure you that Jessica is in no way as naive and innocent as she looks. She can be a pretty sneaky bitch.

We thought and still think that you should get what you want. Maybe even a little more than you want.

So the two of us came up with our plan with the photos. The photos Jessica took of me no longer exist. Only three people ever saw them: Jessica, you and me. All copies have been destroyed.

But the pictures of you are still there, of course. Jessica has them, I have them, and... who else has them is none of your business. Suffice it to say that you know you cannot possibly destroy all the copies.

Of course, photos alone are not enough. That's why Jessica planted a Trojan on your computer. She now has access to all your email contacts and passwords. And of course, she has a backup. You could of course change all your passwords, but I trust you won't take that risk. You don't risk your email contacts seeing these pictures. They prove that you are a slut. We are also aware of your financial situation; we know the state of your bank accounts. You can easily afford to pay for your education. I assure you that every penny of this investment will be worth it! In addition, you will no longer need to spend money on luxuries such as expensive clothing, vacations, or entertainment. You are in Mistress Jessica's web. She will train you. By the end of next year, you will be proud to be a taboo-free slut and devoted servant to Mistress Jessica. You may even love her, but that doesn't matter.