Miss Hannah's Girls

Chapter Four-1

Chapter Four

Dolores was a good-looking girl. Everyone agreed on that. She had lustrous dark eyes, a luscious mouth, and black hair falling down to her shoulders. She had a generous but firm bosom, shapely hips and a proper woman’s ass, as Miss Hannah put it, not one of those little boy asses. From an early age men had looked at her, then looked again, but Dolores had no interest. Girls were a different matter. She longed for girls, longed to touch them, stroke them, kiss them. Or just to look at them, preferably naked, often in movement, walking, running, swimming. For the past couple of years she had spent her summers at a resort for nudists. What she liked especially was that though mixed activities were freely available, there was also lots of provision for those like herself who preferred not to be around men. There was a separate beach for girls, a separate swimming pool and exercise facilities. And though much of what the guests did was innocent enough, swimming, sun-bathing on the beach, games of naked handball and so on, there was a lively night-scene. Here again, there was a special club for lesbians, and Dolores spent the night dancing and drinking and, almost inevitably her evening would end back in her room with another girl, having energetic s*x until dawn.

As soon as she heard what went on at St Swithin’s, Dolores made contact with Miss Hannah, asking to be taken on as one of her girls. Miss Hannah soon discovered that not only was Dolores an enthusiastic lesbian, she was very submissive. Miss Hannah and Rachel had spent an afternoon trying her out, testing how much spanking or n****e play she could take. Both were impressed. “Just what we’re looking for,” said Rachel when Dolores had gone, seemingly none the worse for what she had endured. “A real hundred per cent pain-slut. She’s going to be in demand.”

“Perhaps,” said Miss Hannah, “we have at last found someone to satisfy Mrs Alvarez.”

Mrs Alvarez was younger than most of the clients, still in her mid-thirties. She had a sturdy body, with prominent breasts and a firm round ass, with short black hair. She had a seemingly inexhaustible s****l appetite; more to the point, she was a strict, even severe dominant, to the extent that she had more than once complained to Miss Hannah that the girl she had sent her was unable to absorb the amount of pain Mrs Alvarez wished to impart. Perhaps, thought Miss Hannah, in Dolores Mrs Alvarez might meet her match.

Briefed in advance about what to expect, Dolores pressed the doorbell of Mrs Alvarez’s large house, set in its own grounds. Mrs Alvarez answered the door herself, explaining that the maid had the afternoon off. “So there will be no one to disturb us,” she said, perhaps a little ominously.

Mrs Alvarez wore a t-shirt and shorts. It was a hot day and such attire was sensible. But the t-shirt was tight, and Dolores could see Mrs Alvarez’s n*****s underneath. The shorts were brief in the extreme, revealing much of the lower half of Mrs Alvarez’s bottom, and so tight across the crotch that Dolores wondered if they might not be uncomfortable. She herself wore a cotton summer dress, printed in a pretty design. It was an altogether more modest outfit, though the low neckline did not disguise the appeal of Dolores’s bosom.

Mrs Alvarez went out to the kitchen and returned with a jug of lemonade. Dolores sipped it while Mrs Alvarez outlined what she had in mind for the afternoon.

“In a moment you will get naked and I shall make a detailed, intimate inspection of your person,” she said. “After that we’ll get down to business. I make no secret of the fact that I love to hurt girls. I usually focus on ruining their cunts, though on occasion I also amuse myself by destroying their asses and torturing their t**s. I imagine that Miss Hannah explained this to you?”

“Yes, she did, Mrs Alvarez,” Dolores replied.

“You will be subject to harsh treatment,” Mrs Alvarez went on. “I think it has been said of me that I take no prisoners.”

Not only was Dolores not intimidated by such talk; she positively looked forward to Mrs Alvarez doing her worst. She had found that in the world of lesbian b**m there were many women who fancied themselves as strict task-mistresses, eager to inflict pain on girls they could dominate. But few of them were really as severe as they professed. In the opinion of Dolores, though they talked the talk they rarely walked the walk. However, she thought, this time we shall see.

“There will be times when you will fear that what is being done to you is causing serious damage to your person. It may sound or feel as though your flesh is being seared and pierced and torn. But of course this will not really be the case. Perhaps one day I shall really damage a girl. But for now, if I wish to continue to avail myself of the delicious girls that Miss Hannah sends me, I have to hold myself back.”

“Yes, I understand, Mrs Alvarez,” Dolores said.

“Very well,” said Mrs Alvarez. “Take off your clothes.”

Dolores stood up and unbuttoned her dress down the front, then pulled it off over her head. Underneath she wore, on Miss Hannah’s advice, some practical, not too fancy underwear. “Mrs Alvarez doesn’t care about fripperies,” Miss Hannah said. “She likes to get down to action.” Dolores removed her cotton bra and knickers and kicked off her shoes, then stood naked in front of Mrs Alvarez, who looked her slowly up and down, then made a signal for her to turn and present her rear view. There was a pause, during which Dolores assumed Mrs Alvarez’s eyes travelled up and down her naked body, taking in her back, bottom and thighs.

“Bend over and open your legs,” said Mrs Alvarez.

Dolores did as she was told. The summers spent at the nudist resort had largely removed whatever inhibitions she once had about displaying herself. Many girls had viewed her naked, had had a close look at her body, inspected it intimately.

“Put your hands on your buttocks and pull them apart so that I can see your cunt and asshole more clearly,” Mrs Alvarez said.

Dolores did as she was told, standing bent over, her most intimate parts exposed to Mrs Alvarez’s penetrating gaze. Mrs Alvarez got to her feet and stood right behind her. She reached out with her hand and put it between Dolores’s legs, taking the lips of her cunt in her fingers, rolling them together, squeezing a little, tugging on them. She pushed a finger up inside, opening Dolores’s cunt, moving around inside it. Dolores knew she was wet already. Mrs Alvarez took her moistened finger from Dolores’s cunt and pushed it up into her ass. Dolores grunted; she hadn’t quite been expecting this, having been told that the cunt was the centre of Mrs Alvarez’s interest. Then Mrs Alvarez took hold of the lips of Dolores’s cunt and pulled them apart. It was certainly humiliating to be prodded and pulled about in such a manner. Mrs Alvarez took her fingers away and smacked Dolores hard on the cunt.

“You have a pretty little cunt,” she said, stroking it. “I like the way the lips are formed, so delicate, and such a pretty pink. It seems almost a shame that I have to destroy it. But I’m afraid it has to be done. It’s just too tempting.” She smacked Dolores on the cunt again. “Come with me,” she said.

She led the way out of the room, Dolores following obediently behind her. They went down some stairs to a door; Mrs Alvarez opened it and ushered Dolores inside, closing the door behind her. The room was windowless. Around the walls hung various instruments, some of which Dolores recognised (whips and paddles, cuffs and gags) and others which she had not encountered; some of them looked sinister. In the centre of the room was a large, leather-covered bench. Mrs Alvarez ordered Dolores to lie on it on her back. She fastened leather straps around Dolores’s wrists and ankles, and another which went around her waist. Dolores was pinned down, scarcely able to move an inch in any direction. She began to get a little worried; she felt she was being imprisoned in a torture chamber.

“Now,” said Mrs Alvarez brightly, “do you generally make a lot of noise, my dear? A certain amount of squealing and crying is not objectionable, because this room is well sound-proofed. However, if you are going to start screaming, I think I will have to gag you. I don’t want to frighten the cat upstairs.”

“I will try not to scream, Mrs Alvarez,” Dolores said. She didn’t want a gag.

“Good girl,” said Mrs Alvarez. She put her hand between Dolores’s legs and began to manipulate her roughly, pulling on the lips, forcing her finger inside, pinching. Dolores tried to keep quiet, though it was occasionally a little painful. Then suddenly without warning Mrs Alvarez slapped Dolores’s cunt with the flat of her hand. Dolores let out a gasp. It stung. Mrs Alvarez did it again, harder. Dolores grunted, trying to keep quiet. The smacking continued until her cunt was red; it smarted badly. But there was to be no relief. Mrs Alvarez went to the wall and returned with a leather strap about an inch wide. Positioning herself to one side, she took careful aim and brought the strap down smartly, full on Dolores’s cunt. Dolores cried out.

“Shh,” said Mrs Alvarez sternly. “We’ve hardly started yet.”

She slapped the strap against Dolores’s cunt again, then again, setting up a series of regular blows, all in an identical spot. Dolores tried desperately not to make a noise, but she couldn’t help a series of grunts and groans. Her cunt felt on fire. She tried to wriggle, but in vain.

Mrs Alvarez paused for a moment. “You have a pretty little cunt,” Mrs Alvarez said. “But it will be my pleasure to destroy it.”

She slapped it again, then again. Dolores whimpered. She wanted to be brave, because Miss Hannah had put her faith in her, selected her above the other girls to service this woman. And Dolores was really dedicated to service. The ethos of the Circle had struck a chord with her; for the first time in her life she felt truly in tune with those around her, united in a common cause, the service of proud and potent p*****s.

At last Mrs Alvarez laid down the strap. But Dolores knew this would be a temporary relief only. Mrs Alvarez stroked Dolores’s cunt softly, soothing the smarting lips. But then she gripped them hard and twisted. “Let’s try something else,” she said. From the wall she fetched a flogger, strips of soft deerskin attached to a wooden handle. But in Mrs Alvarez’s grip, the deerskin was anything but soft. She swung it down on Dolores’s cunt as hard as she could. Dolores let out a cry. The flogger swung again. It was different from the strap; not so heavy, and for a second when it struck it was almost like a caress. But then the pain hit, a sharp, stinging, biting pain. Over and over again Mrs Alvarez brought the flogger down on Dolores’s poor cunt, bright red now.

After five minutes Mrs Alvarez stopped again. She bent low and gently kissed Dolores’s cunt, then ran her tongue over the sore red lips.

“Mmm,” she said. “What a sweet little cunt. But a slutty one, I fear, which needs firm discipline.”

From a drawer in a table on one side of the room Mrs Alvarez brought a curious little wheel. Dolores had seen something like it before. It had a handle, and the wheel was set with small, sharp spikes.

“One of my favourites,” said Mrs Alvarez. “It gives quite a delicious pain. The spikes are so sharp they will draw blood if I press hard enough.”

“Oh, please no,” said Dolores. “That will be too much.”

“Nonsense,” Mrs Alvarez snapped. “You sound just like the other ones. Miss Hannah promised me you were strong and very submissive. Do you want me to report you are not up to the job?”

“No, Mrs Alvarez,” Dolores said resignedly.

She pressed the wheel down at the top of Dolores’s pubic mound. At first it wasn’t too bad; the spikes dug into her skin, but the wheel kept moving and so the pain passed from one spot to another. But gradually Mrs Alvarez pressed harder and moved the wheel more slowly, and it became painful, and then agonising. Dolores couldn’t see down properly, but it felt like the spikes were piercing her skin. Mrs Alvarez traced the wheel down the inside of Dolores’s thigh, then moved to the other thigh and began to go upwards. The wheel got closer and closer to Dolores’s cunt. She braced herself. The wheel moved slowly over the lips, but Mrs Alvarez had relaxed the pressure; the pain was bearable, just. Then suddenly the wheel was over Dolores’s c**t. She screamed. Mrs Alvarez kept the wheel in place and slowly pressed harder. Dolores screamed again, louder. Mrs Alvarez took the wheel away and peered closely between Dolores’s legs, pushing her c**t this way and that.