Sylvia's Switch Ch. 02

'Off you go, and dress,' she said, 'I've got a business meeting this morning, and I'll arrange for Adela to take you off to get done.'

I opened my mouth to say something, but knew it was pointless, and meekly went off to shower and dress.

By the time I came downstairs, dressed in flared cotton miniskirt and tank-top, Adela was waiting for me, clad in a cotton print sundress. Susana was using Lola, the chauffeuse, herself, so we had to call a taxi into the city. I hadn't been looking forward to spending the morning with Adela, as we had few words in common, but she sought my hand in the back seat of the taxi, and looked at me in a very friendly way as we did our best to overcome the language barrier. She could tell I was nervous, and, in her effort to calm me, she stroked my thigh with her long, sensitive fingers in such a way that I was getting aroused before we arrived at our destination, and held her slim wrist for a moment as her hand reached close to the top of my thigh. I sought her eyes with mine, and we both knew there was feeling within that transcended our linguistic differences. Deliberately, I looked away. Whatever had happened to me? No time at all ago, I was a respectable married woman in England. Now, here I was, the love-slave of a Spanish Countess, contemplating an affair with her maid! Shit! And going to get myself pierced as well!

The cab drew up in a busy street, beside the end of a narrow alleyway. Adela took out her purse and paid the driver, and we set off down the shady alley, our heels clicking on the hard stone paving. Halfway down, Adela stopped, and pressed a button, one of several, beside an oak door. A buzzer sounded, and the door opened to her touch. We entered and rode up to the fifth floor in a clean modern lift. There was only one door on the fifth, and that was a glass one, through which we went, into an airy reception room, where we were met by a businesslike girl in a white coat, and shown straight into the 'surgery' – about as unlike my idea of a sleazy piercing parlour as you could imagine. Here another, older woman, perhaps in her forties, and very attractive, also in a white coat, awaited us.

She addressed me in broken English, 'Ah, so you are the lovely Sylvia I hear much of? And you will be pierced, yes? I think Susana has good taste. Please sit!'

She signalled me to sit in a contrivance like a dentist's chair, but with stirrups for my legs.

'We do yourcoñitofirst, yes? Let me have a look.'

She pushed up my short skirt, and seeing I wore no panties, turned to Adela, and said, '¿Marca de la casa, eh?' – (trademark?) and they both laughed.

She then got serious, and inspected my pussy, pulling my labia this way and that. Her touch was gentle, and soothing, though, and I found it not at all displeasing, and when she pinched my clit, I felt it respond and an inevitable wetness start to form deep within my cunt.

'Yes,' she said, 'you have nice clitoris. I give you ring like has Adela, OK?'

'Please don't hurt me!' I begged.

'I think it will hurt a little for a moment, but you will like!' she smiled, and brushed my cheek with her cool hand.

Adela came and held my hand, kneading my fingers gently in hers, while the woman took her piercing tool from the sterilising box, and selected a ring identical to Adela's.

'Now,' she said, and moved into place between my legs. Again I felt her cool fingers probing, felt the sudden thrill as she pinched my now-excited nub, then a sudden, sharp, awful, wonderful pain as my most intimate place was pierced by the cruel implement, and the ring placed, in one smooth movement.

'Oh, oh,' I cried, and shuddered as I felt the power of the predicted orgasm wash over me. When I opened my eyes, the woman was cradling my head in her arms.

'My name is Maria José,' she said, 'if you want to know.'

'Oh yes,' I said, 'thank you!'

'Now we do your tongue, OK?'

I was still shell-shocked, and made no protest, just put out my tongue, and let her spray it with a local anaesthetic, then use another piercing tool on it, and fit me with a pretty little silver bar-bell. Whilst I was there, I thought I might as well have my navel done too, which I hoped would please Susana further, and Maria José duly obliged.

She gave me full instructions about hygiene. I was to use antiseptic mouthwash for at least two weeks, bathe my pussy and navel regularly with a solution she gave me, and 'no sex for four days at least!' – Oh shit!

When I walked out, I don't think I've ever felt stranger in my life. The ring in my clit felt like a ton weight, and when I spoke, I thought my voice belonged to someone else, as my tongue had an effect on all the sounds I produced. I wondered if I'd ever get used to my decorations.

Adela was very sweet, however, and comforted me on the way home in the taxi. I was beginning to like her a lot, and remembered Susana's words, 'I will let you have her soon.' I looked forward to that, if it meant sleeping with her.

When we got home, Susana was still away at her meeting, but she arrived soon afterwards, and was eager to see my new piercings. Dutifully, I lifted my skirt, and she looked critically at my pussy, before pronouncing herself satisfied. I put out my tongue for her, and she said she liked that even better. 'When that's had a day or two to heal up, I want to feel that around my pussy, darling,' she told me. I also showed her my navel, and she told me I must always wear something hanging from it.

'After all,' she said, 'I didn't tell you to have that done, did I? Maybe I shall punish you for that at some point. We shall see.'

I couldn't believe she had said that to me, nor its effect on me. I took it almost as a matter of course, and found myself wondering what form her punishment may take, rather than rile at the injustice of it.

I told her that Maria José had warned me off sex for four days, and she snorted.

'That gives us a chance to work on your anus, doesn't it, dear?' she said, 'we can go back to your little yellow friend now!'

When I sat down to lunch, Susana handed me the yellow anal dildo again, ready-lubricated, complete with its tube.

'Do you want me to put it in now?' I asked.

'There's no time like the present.'

I reached down and slipped it, quite easily this time, up my back passage, and handed the bulb to Susana, who began to pump.

'Oh no! No more!' I cried, as she pumped the tube wider and wider, until I thought it would tear me. She gave it two more vigorous pumps, and I writhed with agony – I was filled by the huge diameter of the now enormous invader, close to splitting my virgin arsehole, I was sure.

'Get up and walk around the table!' she ordered.

'I couldn't!' I protested.

'You can, and you will!' she said, 'I will not be disobeyed!' there was steel in her voice which I had never heard before, and which both frightened and thrilled me.

I stood up and walked around the table, my anus feeling as if it had a rolling-pin in it, my sore clitoris, with its strange weight hanging there, another reminder of my descent into slavery.

Then why did I feel proud to serve my Mistress? What was it that made me yearn for her touch, want her desperately to praise me, even more perhaps to punish me – but that didn't bear thinking about. Or did it?

'We'll keep it like that during lunch,' she said, 'then I'll let some air out before I go out this afternoon. You can keep it there the rest of the day.'

'Is that my punishment?' I asked.

'Good heavens no,' she replied, 'it's your pleasure, my dear. When I decide to punish you, I shall whip you. Now let's have some lunch.'

That afternoon, Susana took Adela with her to help with the store-room, as she had bought a lot of new stock. They arrived late for dinner and Susana went straight to bed afterwards, with scarcely a word for me. Next morning, when I got up, the house was empty, but I found a breakfast tray, and a peremptory note saying that a cold lunch was in the fridge for me. Feeling snubbed, I spent the day studying Spanish, all the time acutely aware of the soreness of my new piercings.

When Susana and Adela arrived home at around eight in the evening, they were obviously tired out, and I had prepared salads and laid the table in readiness. I had steaks on the grill, and wine already open.

'Come here!' she said, as I brought her dinner in to her. I came and stood by her side, and she put her hand up my skirt, touching my clit-ring.

'Still sore?' she asked.

'Yes.'

'And have you kept the other thing in?' Her hand moved up to my nether hole, where I had grown more accustomed to the presence of the invading tube.

'Yes,' she said, 'you please me, Sylvia. You are a good slave.'

I basked in her praise, and felt a glow of pride, the like of which I hadn't felt in my adult life. I loved her with all my heart.

When we had eaten, she came around to my place at the table, and said, 'I'm very tired, darling. I must go to bed and sleep now, even though I had hoped for an evening together. Tomorrow, we shall be back earlier. I think it's high time you were introduced to the whip then, don't you?'

'But, Susana, I thought I had pleased you?'

'Oh, you have, my dear, you have! Good night, darling. Sleep well.'

I did sleep remarkably well, all things considered, and once again was alone in the house when I got up. I spent another morning studying verb tables, and lazing around the pool, and found that the soreness was completely gone from my tongue and navel, and almost completely from my clitoris. I did some tidying up in the afternoon, and then tried to make myself beautiful for my Mistress, attending carefully to my hair and make-up, even rouging my nipples and pussy-lips. After a moment's debate with myself, I took the yellow plug out of my arsehole, but tried pushing it back in and out few times, and found it went easily to and fro, and quickly brought me to the very edge of an orgasm. I put it aside for the moment, thinking I would tell Susana, and see what she wanted me to do.

I rifled through the clothes in my wardrobe until I came to what I thought would please my Mistress most. I hardly dared wear it, but didn't expect we should have visitors, as we hadn't had any up to now. Oh, what the hell, I thought, and put it on. The dress was a long black lace creation, completely transparent, so that my rouged nipples could clearly be seen. I had a further thought, and put a silver chain around my waist, and fishing round in my ample jewellery box, found a silver chain, which may have been designed as a bracelet, which I clipped to my clit ring, fastening the other end to the loose end of the waist-chain. Smoothing my dress back down, stepping into a pair of metallic-heeled stilettos, and doing a twirl in front of the mirror, I said, 'God, Sylvia, you look fucking sexy!'

Soon afterwards, I heard Susana's car arrive, and clicked downstairs in my heels to greet her.

'Mmmm,' she said, 'have you been getting ready all day?'

I didn't know if she was criticising me, but when she kissed me, I took care to let my new stud roam around her tongue and click against her teeth, and she pushed me gently away, saying, 'not just now, darling, I need to shower and change. Come up to my room in fifteen minutes, will you?'

I could hardly wait, and fifteen minutes passed so slowly – I had been waiting for her all day.

When the time finally came around, I walked up the stairs and let myself into her room. There seemed to be no-one there.

'In here, darling!' she called from the bathroom, and I walked into the huge bathroom. Susana was stood beside the vanity unit, wearing a black silk negligee, and holding a sinister-looking leather riding-crop.

'Go and stand in the shower!' she said.

I started to unzip my dress, saying, 'but I've already....'

'Isaidgo and stand in the fucking shower! Nothing about getting undressed!'

Trembling now, I did as she told me. The next thing I knew, my wrists were manacled to the shower fitting above my head.

'Susana!' I yelled, 'what have I done? I dressed up for you, and....?

'Shut up, you bitch,' she said, and tears sprang to my eyes. They were silenced as a sudden terrible jet of cold water cascaded out of the shower-head, taking my breath away, and moulding the dress to my body like a second skin.

Before I had chance to even breathe, there was a pain such as I have never known across my upper back, as Susana lashed my tender flesh with the crop, the thin soaked lace only adding to the sting of the lash. I yelped as she lashed me again, lower down on my back, then I felt her tear the dress's flimsy material, so that she could see her target better. Three more vicious strokes, this time to my naked, wet skin, I had to endure, but she turned the water off for the last two, and I heard her murmur words to me, in Spanish, that I knew she didn't realise I understood. Coincidental with her final, awful lash, I had the most tremendous orgasm I had ever had in my life – I think I actually lost consciousness for a few moments. When she took me down, there were tears in her eyes.

'Forgive me, Sylvia,' she said, 'I love you.'

'Of course I forgive you,' I heard myself saying, 'I love you too.'

That night, she gave me Adela to sleep with, and we made gentle, tender love, my new-found Spanish coming in handy. And each morning, in a temporary reversal of roles, Susana brought us in a breakfast tray.

I had made my switch to a new life – there was no return.