Lifetime Submissive

Now waiting in the classroom with the students, Mistress Prin was brooding about Miss Blake’s only known weakness, a sudden and intense infatuation with someone. Rebecca had got under Miss Blake’s skin and that was dangerous.

But she would be a given a chance, although, regardless of the outcome, the student would be leaving the Slave Institute School. Prin couldn’t risk any further embarrassment to her staff, and more importantly, to her own reputation. Rebecca would be accepted to train under Frau Marlen in Munich. Far enough away, yet still given her opportunity.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the door opened and Miss Blake walked in with Rebecca. They were virtually identical in attire, although Miss Blake’s front zip thigh boots seem to be a new addition, with Rebecca wearing the more traditional style. Both women were wielding thin birch canes and they bowed slightly to the Mistress. She regarded them icily as they entered the classroom.

Minutes passed and there was still no sign of the wretched gimps, Mistress Prin got to her feet. Both Rebecca and Miss Blake stalked around the classroom, the canes swishing with menace.

“What nonsense is this, Miss Blake? What lesson are we supposed to be watching? Both of you swanning around in your domme gear? Playing at being Mistresses? I’ve seen enough of this performative idiocy. You’ll both come to my office in an hour.”

Mistress Prin headed to the door, with Rebecca suddenly in front of her. The girl’s eyes were jet black, her mouth sneered in contempt.

“Get back to your fucking seat.”

The girls gasped and Mistress Prin’s face flushed with fury. Rebecca raised the cane and the Mistress quickly grabbed her arm, painfully bending it back behind her. Rebecca yelped in pain and dropped the weapon. Mistress Prin unleashed a furious right hand, a full slap to the side of Rebecca’s head, knocking the girl against the door. A swift rabbit kick followed and struck her in the gut. Rebecca fell and Mistress Prin reached down, grabbing her throat, the older woman still more than a match for her much younger opponent who was gasping for air.

“If I was even five years younger, cunt, I would cripple you. Only one other person dared put their hands on me, and they ended up in a hospital bed for almost a year. You can join them……. Miss Blake, come to me at once. This little bitch needs to be loaded in the cattle truck.”

Miss Blake stood. Her expression was uncertain, a real conflict of loyalty. Mistress Prin turned and fixed the Miss with a gorgon’s glare. She took a handful of Rebecca’s hair and dragged the girl to her feet, before viciously slamming her head into the wall. Miss Blake moved forward, concerned for her young lover.

Prin picked Rebecca up and went to slam her again, except this time, Miss Blake was now behind the Mistress. Her arm was tightly around the neck of her mentor……Blake spitefully dug her heel into the calf of Mistress Prin, forcing her down to the floor. She kept the chokehold in place and the Mistress faded quickly. Rebecca swayed a little, but she aimed a stinging kick to Mistress Prin’s ribs, her bruised and bleeding face a mask of incendiary anger.

Miss Blake pulled Rebecca away and grabbed some leather straps, comprehensively hogtying the Mistress.

With the weeks passing, Mistress Prin’s station had been reduced dramatically. New Headmistress Blake had now taken the reins of the school, and the former legendary Mistress’s position served as a warning to those who dared challenge the new world order. Prin’s custom made and expensive leather wardrobe was now swapped for simple latex drone attire. She could only grunt her displeasure as she knelt at Headmistress Blake’s boots every day…..

As for Rebecca?

Our savant had now been firmly on the path of Mistress herself. Under the continuous tutelage of Headmistress Blake, the formidable Miss Rebecca Fury was fast cementing her reputation in the Slave Institute. Her particular skill lay in assessing and interviewing slaves and failed students alike.

Mistress Prin often spoke about the importance of succession……now she gets to see it every day.

Months of training had turned Miss Fury into a sleek, cruel machine. Her trademark cuffs were never far from her hand, and her boots were a true extension of her power.

Miss Blake sat in the office of Mistress Prin, her hands nervously tapping her laptop. The venerable Headmistress was something of a legend within the Slave Institute. A woman with over forty years of experience as a dominant, a trainer and an educator. She was the leader of the Slave Institute for an unprecedented four terms in office, before moving into this role.

Mistress Prin was a stickler for timekeeping, and sure enough the door opened exactly as the clock struck for their appointment. Miss Blake immediately stood and bowed her head in deference. She waited until Mistress Prin reached her chair, before curtsying and taking the lady’s gloved hand, kissing it with reverence.

Mistress Prin was still in magnificent condition, her auburn hair was still full and flowed like a mane, and although her face was showing more lines than before, she had the look and vitality of someone twenty years younger.

She sat, her leather trousers and boots creaking with the quality of the hide she insisted on wearing. The corset and opera length lace up leather gloves gave the Mistress an austere elegance. Miss Blake first met her mentor almost thirty years ago, when she was an aspiring young Domina. Mistress Prin in her prime could lay claim to being the most physically and mentally strong dominant in the world. While she had trimmed down her physique in recent years, the now lean frame was still reminiscent of the Amazon that Miss Blake admired and respected.

Mistress Prin smiled warmly at Miss Blake, she was fond of her former student, even in some tough times. But the business to be discussed today, would test Mistress Prin’s indulgence. As Miss Blake begun to speak, she was silenced by a hand raising before her….

“I have had the chance to review your request, Miss Blake. It is unheard of to propose a student that is currently under reassignment review, to be given the opportunity to assist in running classes with her teacher. I fear your judgement here is flawed.”

Miss Blake expected to be told that, however, she bristled at the idea that her judgment was wrong. She picked up the laptop and showed it to Mistress Prin….

“Mistress, you can see here how she punishes. Her instincts and technique belie her lack of experience. I realise her psychometric results seemed to indicate otherwise, but the girl is a natural dominant. She is calm, but utterly ruthless when the situation calls for it. There is no lack of focus, she seems to change in an instant.”

Mistress Prin shook her head, and placed a hand on Miss Blake’s knee.

“The rules advise against it, Nadia. There has only been one instance of a failed student making such a stark improvement. The governors of the Institute do not want to risk repeating what happened in that situation. You understand this of course.”

Miss Blake clenched her fists. A misjudgment after such triumph almost ruined her career. She was indeed the student who escaped being trafficked to one of the many Madams in the country. But her indiscretions with a member of the faculty following her salvation nearly ended it all.

“While I agree that the girl’s abilities seem to be better than first thought……..I have also seen her around the school. She is very much your type, Nadia. Perhaps you are letting some feelings get in the way?”

Miss Blake spent years reclaiming her reputation, only to now have her thoughts infatuated with Rebecca. Miss Blake turned to the Mistress, expression earnest and heartfelt….

“Please attend the lesson, Mistress. Let her prove she belongs…….I have no feelings for the girl, other than the fact she will be a great dominant. Either teaching here, or becoming a Madam. I will respect your decision of course, but you above all know how important it is to give people opportunities.”

Mistress Prin’s face hardened, but she nodded her assent and ordered Miss Blake to leave, but with a warning ringing in her ears……the teacher’s own career was being scrutinised too.

Rebecca stared at her reflection. Squeezing into the tight riding breeches and jacket felt amazing, but of course, it was the towering thigh boots that gave her the sensation of power. The crisp white blouse barely contained her generous chest, but she stood….preening and admiring the outfit and her ass in the breeches. She heard the boot heels thunder behind her and Miss Blake was there……

“Mmm, you look sensational, Rebecca. A most apt look for our lesson today.”

Miss Blake was dressed identically, with the exception of her riding breeches being a dazzling white. Her boots were similarly high and she was a true picture of statuesque dominance. She was carrying a pair of leather riding crops and handed one to her student.

“Given your skill with the cane, I would imagine wielding this crop will not pose a problem. Practice.”

Rebecca swished the crop in the air and watched her technique in the mirror. She widened her stance and imagined the tool was cracking over the flesh of a slave. Miss Blake moved behind Rebecca and grabbed her arm gently. She began to guide the strokes and pressed against the girl to hold her stance steady.

“The rule is to conserve your energy as well as delivering power. Your legs are too far apart. Wearing such high heels, you need to stand slightly more narrow. Any exaggerated movements will unbalance you and make striking inconsistent. Don’t be too still, as you will need your body weight to move behind each hit. Bend over.”

The girl did as she was told and bent over the nearby pommel horse. Miss Blake began to issue a series of short, sharp taps with the crop…..finding the same place every time. Rebecca grimaced with each hit, but she knew the Miss was going easy on her. It was also shameful that the student was getting wetter as the lesson continued. Eventually Miss Blake stopped and gently rubbed Rebecca’s ass cheek.

“You aren’t hurt I hope? I’m too used to punishing with the crop, not demonstrating.”

Rebecca got up and smiled, before suddenly kissing Miss Blake on the lips.

“I’m not hurt, Miss. I enjoyed it, and thank you for the lesson.”

Miss Blake was slightly stunned, but then she moved in and returned the kiss, this time longer and more passionate. Her hand went down Rebecca’s breeches and she moaned with approval when she discovered the girl’s wet cunt. It wasn’t long before Rebecca came under the touch of the Miss. The expert finger fuck left our protege breathing heavily and once again leaning in to kiss Miss Blake. Rebecca dropped to her knees and pulled her teacher’s breeches down, exposing the hot, neatly trimmed pussy……she looked up, eyes asking for permission. Miss Blake moved over to the pommel horse and leaned back, gently pulling Rebecca towards her clit.

The girl began to eat her Mistress out, tongue lapping her fragrant cunt, tenderly kissing and nipping the Miss’s pussy lips. Miss Blake opened her legs further and eventually a mind blowing orgasm hit like a thunderclap. The elder lady had to put her hand to her mouth to muffle the groans of orgasmic pleasure. Rebecca kept on going, bringing Miss Blake to another climax.

With the urgent sense of lust out of the way, both women sat facing each other. More boot teasing and oral pleasure followed…..as Miss Blake smiled at her young lover and pointed a mock, admonishing finger….

“You’re a bad girl, Rebecca. But you and I both know that. But we still haven’t seen how good you are with this crop. The lesson is later this evening and we haven’t practiced fully. So, show me if you’ve learned anything.”

Miss Blake got up and bent over the horse. She pulled her breeches back down again and bared her toned backside. She ordered the girl to crop her. Rebecca took up the weapon and delivered steady, controlled blows. Precision wasn’t quite there, but the level of movement was much improved. Miss Blake moaned, her breathing heavy and her voice desperate…..

“Harder. Mark me. Make me your property.”

Rebecca faltered, shocked at Miss Blake’s sudden submission, but she continued until the welts began to appear. Then she stopped, hand trembling.

“I can’t hurt you, Miss. Please say that’s enough.”

Miss Blake grabbed the horse and began to finger herself. She looked at the marks on her ass in the mirror….and came again. Rebecca moved over and took Miss Blake’s hand tightly. The teacher soon recovered and stood up, hissing in discomfort as she pulled her breeches back up. She turned to Rebecca, her detached deportment once again in place….but with a look of embarrassment.

“I apologise. I seemed to have lost some composure, girl. I will need to change into something else. You will stay dressed like that. Mistress Prin will no doubt want to know of any practical cropping examples….you will say that the bull slaves were used. I marked them earlier, and sufficiently enough to corroborate that story. Oh, I trust this afternoon’s activities stay between us?”

Rebecca nodded and Miss Blake swept out of the room without another look or word. The atmosphere in the air was extraordinary and Rebecca briefly thought about going after Miss Blake. Instead, she turned toward her reflection once again. She gripped the riding crop and flexed it, her expression darkened and her eyes black as night.

Who would be next?