Amy Is Still in Control

Amy Is Still in Control

This is the second story in a series. It won’t make much sense unless you read Amy Learns Control. The usual disclaimers, everyone engaging in sex is over 18. There is no COVID or STD’s in my little world.

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At work the next Monday Amy thought about what Lucinda had said about a special client. When she got home from work that night, she called Lucinda to see if she could get a hint about what this client wanted.

“I was just thinking about you, Amy,” Lucinda told her. “The sub I was telling you about is in Europe for another week. I was informed that a little stress relief would certainly be needed when the sub gets back.”

“Well, that’s why I called actually,” Amy told her. “You said something about this client needed to be handled delicately, can you give me any hints?”

After hesitating a moment Lucinda replied, “It depends on your reason for needing the information,”

“Well, my last time I happened to be wearing something that would be appropriate for the client. If delicacy is needed, I would like to tailor my appearance to the need,” explained Amy.

“I see where you’re coming from now,” Lucinda said, “I have to admire the way you are approaching this. Like a true professional Dominatrix. OK, here is the only hint I’m going to give you. Waiting in the room for you will be a turkey feather, a bamboo back scratcher, clothes pins, a hairbrush and perhaps a few more items of this type.”

“Interesting, so nothing that would cause real pain,” Amy said thoughtfully.

“Does that give you enough to work with?” Lucinda said teasingly.

Amy racked her brain trying to think what type of fetish this client was into. Suddenly a light bulb went on in her head. She asked Lucinda, “So, if I had long fingernails and used them on, oh say an armpit or on the ribs, it would be well received?”

“You are truly gifted Amy, in what, fifteen seconds you came right to the core of the matter. I can’t wait to watch this happen. I’ll call you when I know something. Love you.” Lucinda said, before hung up.

Amy thought about what one wore to tickle someone. Then she chuckled at an idea. The more she ran it through her mind the more she liked the idea. She went online and ordered a few items. She made a note to call the nail salon in the morning then drew up a list of things she had in the house that she would need to take with her.

The items she had ordered started arriving Thursday and on Saturday the last one was delivered. She tried on every item as they came in and then on Saturday put her entire outfit together. She smiled at her image in the mirror thinking how perfect the costume looked for the upcoming entertainment.

The combination of anticipation, nervousness and excitement had kept Amy’s libido at a boil all week. She had spent quality time each night in the bath with her dildo and the butt plugs. She even wore the middle sized one to work on Friday. Every time she had gotten up from her desk, she felt the weight of the plug tugging gently on her rectum. She went to the restroom three times to masturbate during the day.

She was lying in bed reading Sunday night when Lucinda called.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?” she asked.

“Not at all, I was just reading a trashy novel and relaxing,” Amy assured her.

“I’m glad,” Lucinda said, “I know this is short notice but is there any chance you are free tomorrow night?”

Amy smiled to herself then said, “I would have to check my appointment book, but I think I might be available.”

“Would you like to have a look, then call me back?” Lucinda asked laughing.

“No, if I have a conflict, you know you always come first.”

“Wow doesn’t someone think highly of me,” she laughed.

“I take it this is about that special client we talked about?”

“It is,” Lucinda confirmed. “Would eight o’clock be OK with you?”

“Of course, I’ve been preparing for this all week. I can’t tell you how excited and nervous I am,” Amy confessed.

“Oh, don’t be. You are a natural at this, you are going to do great,” Lucinda reassured her.

Work the next day was excruciating, the clock seemed to be moving backward at times. She had a nail appointment at noon that helped pass an hour of the day. Finally, when the clock hit five, she was out the door like a shot. When she arrived home, she found she had two hours to kill before leaving for the club. She tried reading but couldn’t concentrate. The TV was just an annoying noise. She finally stripped and did some housecleaning. It was a funny thing, but it always calmed her down to scrub and vacuum in the nude.

She started getting ready at seven by calling for an Uber to pick her up at seven thirty. Her first item was a red leather bralette corset. It zipped up the back but had black laces in the front. Next were a pair of red lace thongs. She stepped into her red leather hot pants, wiggling her butt until she finally got them over her ass, then fastened the shiny black belt.

She sat down and smoothed on a pair of red thigh high stockings. On the top of each stocking was a red satin bow. She completed her outfit with a pair of black patent leather five-inch stiletto heels. She checked herself in the mirror then added the finishing touch, a red Lone Ranger style mask.

She took the mask off and added it to the items in her gym bag. She slipped into her long London Fog trench coat and was ready. For a miracle her Uber arrived five minutes early. She had the driver drop her at the door of the club, not caring what he thought of her getting out at a sex club, or if he even knew what went on in there.

She went into the main bar looked for, then found Pam.

Pam greeted her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek saying, “Lucinda told me to look for you, sit at the bar and have a drink, she bought it for you.”

When she brought the glass of wine she said, “You don’t look nervous at all, that’s good. I mean, I know you are nervous, but you cannot, repeat cannot, let your sub know it. Relax and sip the wine, you are fifteen minutes early. That’s something else you can’t be is early. God, I’m sorry, I’m probably making things worse by babbling on and on.”

Amy laughed saying, “It’s nice to see someone more nervous than I am.”

“So, you’re sitting there in a trench coat buttoned to the neck, what are you hiding under there?” Pam asked.

“Well, I have on sort of a costume, I didn’t know if the subs walked through here. I don’t want to give anything away,” Amy explained.

“Something else Lucinda or I should have explained,” Pam said, “People, I should say everyone that is going to the common rooms come through here. People that reserve a private room have a separate entrance in the back. If tonight goes well, you will be given the door lock code to use in the future.”

“Is Lucinda going to come find me tonight?”

“No, she will be in the monitor room, when your sub is in the room, she will text you a room number and door code for that room,” Pam informed her.

“I was going to take off my coat so I’m ready but as cold as it is in here, I’d be likely to freeze.”

Pam laughed and said, “Probably, but as soon as the phone rings your blood will get pumping. You won’t care what the temperature is.”

Her phone was on the bar and when it vibrated it caused both of them to jump. Laughing, Amy picked up the phone, ‘Showtime room 2, code 40655 GL’ was all it said.

She stood and removed her coat, handing it to Pam saying, “I don’t know where to put this.”

“I’ll put it behind the bar for you. My god woman, you look fantastic,” Pam exclaimed.

The bartender whistled and said, “When you are done doing whatever in there, come out here and walk all over me with those heels, girl.”

Amy smiled at them both and donning her mask, started down the corridor. She stopped at room two and punched in the code. The door lock clicked and she hastily entered the room then came to a halt. Her sub was a very good-looking, thin blond woman who appeared a little nervous. She was sitting on a wooden chair next to a matching table.

“Stand up,” Amy barked as she turned and closed the door. The woman was so startled she popped to her feet immediately. Amy dropped the gym bag on the table, it made a loud metallic clanking sound when it hit. The woman looked fearfully at the bag as if she were afraid of the horrible things it contained.

Amy slowly circled the woman getting a good look at her and letting the woman see her. “Strip,” she ordered her.

The woman seemed almost eager to remove her business suit. She was wearing a matching beige lace bra and panty set. Very stylish, very expensive. Soon all her garments lay in a pile on the floor. Amy looked from the clothes to the woman and back again until the woman picked the clothes up, folded them neatly and placed them on the table.

Amy nodded in satisfaction saying, “Stand under the beam, hands out in front of you.”

The woman was slow to comply, so Amy quickly unzipped the gym bag. That got her moving and she was soon in position. Amy picked up a pair of padded handcuffs from the table and handed them to the woman. She watched as the woman awkwardly put them on her wrists. Amy moved to the wall, untied a rope then lowered it until a hook appeared at the woman’s eye level.

She acted like she didn’t know what to do and just looked at Amy. Amy sighed loudly and walked to the gym bag then made a bunch of noise rummaging around in it as if looking for something. The woman quickly hung the handcuffs over the hook.

Amy raised the rope until the woman’s arms were straight up. Not high enough to really stretch her out but she wouldn’t have much freedom of movement either. She tied the rope off to a cleat on the wall. Taking her time Amy slowly moved to stand in front of her.

“What should I call you?” she asked.

Softly the woman said, “Christine.”

Continuing as if the woman hadn’t spoken, she said, “I have three names I’m contemplating, I’ll let you choose the one you’d like me to use. So, will it be Slut, Slave, or Cunt?”

“I, I don’t like any of them,” she whimpered.

“Oh, you poor pathetic misguided little lamb. If you haven’t figured out by now that I don’t give a rat’s ass what you like it’s going to be a very long evening for you. Choose.”

“I guess Slave is the least offensive, I suppose.”

“Oh, yes heaven forbid we would want to offend the princess,” Amy scoffed.

“And what am I to call you?” Slave asked.

“You will call me Mistress Algea,” Amy instructed her.

Amy pulled a black silk sleep mask from the gym bag then approaching Slave from behind, slipped it on covering her eyes.

The woman turned to face Amy. Amy reached out and pinched one of her nipples, not hard, just enough to get her attention. The woman froze in her tracks.

“Slave, the next time you move your feet even an inch from where I place them, I will pinch this nipple purple,” Amy calmly told her. “Do you understand?’

“Yes, Mistress Algea, of course, please forgive me.”

Amy let go of the nipple and taking her by the shoulders turned her until she was facing the table again.

She took four clothespins from the table and put two on each pinky so they would be close at hand. She pulled out a few pieces of old silverware from her bag. She had included a few items that would make an unusual noise. The blindfolded sub would wonder what was in store for them. The unknown would heighten the senses of the victim. Amy picked up the turkey feather then dropped the silverware on the table as she touched the feather to the woman’s ribs. Slave jumped as if it were a live wire touching her. Amy slowly ran the feather down to her slave’s hip then backed off. She silently moved to her other side and repeated the move.

The woman jumped again when the stimulation came from a new direction. Amy moved in front of her victim and tried out her newly acquired fake nails on both sides of Slave’s ribs. This got a soft moan from her, so Amy stepped up and kissed her on the lips. The woman pulled her head back at first, not knowing what was touching her. When she realized it was Amy’s mouth, she parted her lips and stuck her tongue out.

Amy was hoping for this and pulled a clothespin from her finger and snapped it onto her tongue. Slave let out a soft scream then pulled her tongue back in her mouth trying to figure out what it was.

Amy scolded her, “Slave, did I tell you to put your tongue back in your mouth?”

Slave shook her head no, then stuck out her tongue. Amy pinched a nipple lightly saying, “I don’t believe I heard your apology.”

“I’m thorry, Mithtwess Algea, I apologyth,” she mumbled.

Amy released the nipple, gently caressing her breast and soothing her.

She slowly circled her hanging captive, making just enough noise to make sure Slave was following her every move. When she was on her right side, she stopped then silently moved over to her left side. She took another clothes pin and pinched the side of the woman’s breast and attached it. That brought her slave to her toes and elicited a soft groan.

“And what did I tell you about not moving your feet my darling?” Amy cooed in her ear.

Groaning again she settled back down. She hung there twitching, waiting to be punished for not obeying. Instead, Amy took a plastic fork from her bag and ran it ever so lightly down her spine from her neck to her firm little ass. She reached around and starting at her navel brought it back over her hip and across her left butt cheek. When she reached the crack of her ass, she inserted the fork between the firm cheeks hard enough to cause a little pain, but no damage.

She put down the fork and used her sharp nails to vigorously tickle both armpits of Slave for thirty seconds. At first the tickling had caused wild laughter and mild gyrations, by twenty seconds her victim was moaning and thrashing, at the thirty second mark she was weeping and hanging limply from her handcuffs. Glancing at the woman’s legs Amy saw a thin trickle of urine running down them to join with a small puddle on the floor.

Amy was somewhat shocked at how quickly the woman had succumbed to the tickling. When searching for ideas and preparing for this session she had read that in ancient China they had used tickling as a form of capital punishment. There were documented cases of people actually dying from being tickled.

She watched carefully as slave gradually recovered. When she was standing on her own again, Amy removed the clothespin from her tongue. Slave screamed at the sensation of the blood returning to that sensitive organ. Amy pinched the side of her breast and attached the clothespin, so it matched her other breast.

She told Slave to spread her feet apart. Using the feather, she started at the knee and ran the feather up her inner thigh all the way to the woman’s pussy. She repeated the process on her other thigh then used the feather to tickle her labia apart. This caused Slave to laugh and dance from one foot to the other.

Amy stopped and stood up only inches from the other woman.

“Stick out your tongue, you disobedient little slave.”

The woman whimpered but did as she was told. Amy leaned in and sucked the tongue into her mouth. Slave fought it for a moment then moaning loudly, stuck her tongue even further into Amy’s mouth. Amy let the kiss go on for a few more seconds then reached up and pinched a nipple. Slave immediately pulled her head back and stood there rigidly.

Amy used two more clothespins on the underside of Slave’s breasts. She ran her hands lightly from her armpits down over her ribcage to her hips, then started tickling the same areas rapidly. The woman laughed loudly and held her thighs together trying not to pee anymore. Amy kept up the tickling until the woman started sobbing and convulsing.

She stopped then whispered in the woman’s ear telling her how well she was doing, what a good slave she was. The woman seemed to appreciate the words and soon hung there trying to recover but hiccupping on every other breath.

Amy put two more pins on the top of her breasts, which elicited a moan and a loud hiccup. Next Amy knelt and used a hairbrush to scratch her way from slave’s ankles to her cute butt. She scratched both of the tight buns then gave Slave five medium spanks on each cheek with the back of the hairbrush. When this elicited a long moan from the captive woman Amy flipped the brush and repeated the blows with the stiff bristle side. This brought Slave to her tiptoes and the moan turned into a groan. Amy realized that the woman was having an orgasm.

She reached between Slaves legs and inserted two fingers in her pussy to see just how wet the woman was. Her fingers made a squishing sound as they entered. She gave the woman three hard thrusts then withdrew her fingers. A string of thick fluid stretched for nearly a foot before it broke. Slave groaned again and without further stimulation began spraying liquid on the floor and down both legs. When she finished squirting, she couldn’t hold herself up on her wildly twitching legs and hung helplessly from her wrists.

Amy let her recover for a minute then quickly removed the clothespins on her nipples. This brought the nearly comatose sub to her feet with a scream. Amy stood close and gently bit her earlobe. This seemed to have the calming effect Amy was looking for.

Then she whispered in Slave’s ear, “I did not tell you to move, nor did I give you permission to come. What do you suppose should happen to you as a consequence?”

Slave moaned and struggled to regain her original position. “I, I should be punished Mistress Algea.”

After replacing the clothespins on her nipples Amy used two plastic forks at the same time. She started at Slave’s elbows and slowly worked them down her arms spending a little extra time at the giggling woman’s armpits. She worked one fork down her left ribcage and then jerked a clothespin off her right breast. Slave let out a short yip then moaned. Amy used her long fingernails on the woman’s right armpit and when she had her laughing and squirming, she pulled two pins off her left breast.

Amy used both hands to tickle Slave’s ribs and soon had her sobbing and moaning. She moved down to the back of the knees, an area she had largely neglected so far. The woman responded to this stimulation by laughing and letting go a small spurt of pee.

Amy was instantly on her feet. After grabbing a handful of her hair and twisting it around her fist she hissed, “Do not lose control of your bladder again or it will be much worse.”

This of course just made it harder for the laughing, moaning, crying Slave to hold her water. Every time she let any urine escape Amy pulled a clothespin from one of her breasts. The combination of the pain/pleasure of the tickling was enhanced by the pain of the blood returning to her abused breasts. It was causing nearly constant orgasms in Slave.

As a finale Amy stopped tickling and removed both pins from Slave’s nipples simultaneously. The restrained woman actually hung from her cuffed wrists jerking and twisting with her feet off the floor. Fluids gushed out of the woman in a huge fountain. Amy could not tell whether Slave was pissing or squirting or a combination of both. When her pain and orgasms had run their course, she hung unmoving. Amy quickly checked and found that the woman was still breathing but had passed out.

Amy untied the rope and lowered Slave gently down to the floor. She tried to move her to the padded table, but the woman was too heavy to handle by herself. The door opened and Lucinda came into the room, the two of them managed to get her settled on the table.

Lucinda looked deeply into Amy’s eyes saying, “Are you all right?”

Amy nodded saying, “I am good, I will be fantastic when Christine wakes up and I know I haven’t caused permanent damage.”

Lucinda bent over the passed-out woman and removed the mask then pried an eyelid open. “She will be just fine in a minute. We will need to get some fluid in her. I will go get a couple of bottles of workout water for her. Will you stay and watch her?”