"A D/s Fairy Tale 9"( MF FF F-dom fant )[5/7]

Chapter 9 - The Submissive Miss-Fit

Christiana awoke to the first, cold rays of light lancing
through the gauzy curtains of her penthouse suite.  Languidly,
she stretched before rolling over to find once again that the
other side of the bed was empty.  What was going on?  Leon had
been there when she had gone to sleep.  She knew that as well
as she knew anything.  How could she possibly have imagined
what he had one to her?  Hell, what she had done to him. 
Where had he gone?  She sniffed at the pillow that should have
held the clean, masculine aroma of sexually satisfied male
animal and found only the faint scent of freshly washed
linens.  

Just as it had been the day before with Molly.  

Chris was tempted to pull the covers over her head and hide in
her bed until she could figure out what was going one, but in
the end, she didn't.  What good would such an infantile act do
in the face of Adrian's incredible power?  Better to meet what
ever came next forthrightly and of her own will, then to make
whatever or whoever it would be this time come find her,
instead.  Chris was not sure, but she thought that chutzpah
and willingness to accept her punishment might count for
something.  Everything she had learned about Adrian Luthor
indicated that it should, anyway.

Chris gave one last stretch, and then slid out of her bed. 
Pulling on her robe, she padded over to the east facing french
doors.  As with the previous days, her wish for a bright
sunrise was not granted.

The skies over Boston were black.  Flashes that could only be
lightning flared on the horizon.  What was that called, she
wondered?  Thunder-snow?  That was it.  Very unusual weather
for this part of the Northeast.  Very unusual and potentially,
very dangerous.  Was this an omen of what she could expect
from today's trials?  Chris shuddered. Maybe hiding in bed was
not such a bad idea, after all. 

No, she thought briskly, she was not a coward.  She would face
this and see it through, but she would be able to face it
better with some food to sustain her.  Chris was famished. A
quick call to her concierge and soon, coffee and pastry would
be on her table.  

The doorbell rang just as Chris finished up her morning
toilette.  Hunger gave her feet wings and she flew to the door
to admit the delivery person.

"Hi, Christiana-luv, I saw the bakery delivery truck outside
and offered to bring the up the goods." was chirped in a soft
voice with an Oxford English accent. 

A tall, slender, very dark skinned black woman stood in
Christiana's doorway holding a thermos and a string-tied
bakery box.  Her hair was cropped close, showing off an
elegantly shaped head atop a long sleek neck.  The face had
always reminded Chris of one of the busts of Egyptian queens
she had seen in museums.  Huge eyes, long aristocratic nose
and a full mouth accented flawless skin and a long, sylph-like
neck.  Shock, followed by near terror rippled over Chris.  Not
her, oh god, please, not Kayla.

The cold, freezing heat seared its way across her body once
more, signaling recognition of yet another of Christiana's
mishandled playmates and the invocation of Adrian Luthor's
enchantment.  Christiana's smile of welcome masked her soul
deep fear at being in the thrall of this particular
submissive.

Kayla Thomas was more a bottom than a submissive;  one with her
own dream and her own agenda.  A sorority chum of Molly's,
Kayla had stumbled onto her friend's relationship to
Christiana while staying with Molly.  Chris had taken an
immediate liking to the lovely and personable young woman, and
had seen no reason not to agree to Kayla's subsequent request
to try playing D&S games with Chris, too.

But then, it became obvious that there *was* a problem, after
all.  Over the years that Christiana had been a practicing
domme, there had been times in her experience when, after a
suitable period of play and negotiation, she simply could not
"connect" with a partner.  Times when, even with all the
desire in the world on both their parts, her wants and needs
were just too much of a mismatch with those of her submissive. 
  

This submissive was just such a case.  Kayla's fantasies
squicked Chris and she would not, could not, play to them. 
Her refusal in Kayla's case was completely different from
Christiana's situation with Molly.  Molly simply wanted Chris
to play certain scenes in specific ways, taking away much of
Christiana's freedom and flexibility in the conduct of play
and games that Chris normally enjoyed.  Kayla, however, wanted
Chris to do things in a scene that Chris did not want to do to
Kayla, and just as importantly, did not want to be responsible
for having anyone else do to her.

Kayla wanted, or at least thought she wanted, her body
permanently marked.  Tattoos, permanent facial makeup, body
jewelry and other markings fascinated the young woman.  The
problem, from Christiana's perspective, was that although
Kayla *thought* she wanted to experiment with body art, every
time she started to have her body decorated or permanently
modified in some way, she had always stopped short of actually
doing it.  She had decided that it would be "easier" if her
Mistress "forced" her to have something done, or maybe had it
done to her while she was in bondage and could not back out.

Even the "bored" Chris had refused that request.  She could
not, would not make that kind of indelible change in another
person's body.  That, she contended, was a decision that had
to be made freely and of a person's own will.  She never
wanted anyone to change their mind later and blame her for
such an action.  Prior to her boredom fugue, Chris would have
worked with her friends in the local scene to find a better
match, a better fit, for her erstwhile play partner.

With Kayla, however, she had chosen to play carrot and stick. 
She hinted that she might pierce her during their next session
"if she was a good little subbie".  Once she went so far as to
have a set of piercing tools and a pair of gold nipple rings
laid out in the dun-gym when Kayla arrived, only to find some
"fault" in her sub's performance that she used to deny Kayla
her wish.

Not surprisingly, Kayla had grown steadily more disappointed
in Christiana, and steadily more frustrated by Christiana's
failure to follow through with her false starts.  She took
every opportunity to try and get her Mistress to change her
stance on the subject. 

Was that why she had come here today?  And now that she held
the power of Christiana's free will, would she get her way? 
Molly had been able to direct Chris to top her the way she had
thought she wanted to be topped.  Would Kayla use her power as
Molly had? Would she magically compel Chris to order her to
get her body marked?

Grimly, Chris focused her will to fight the enchantment.  She
clamped her lips shut lest she utter the words that would tell
Kayla of her great, good fortune.  She tried to blot out every
other thought in her mind except for telling herself over and
over that to order Kayla to mark herself could be construed as
harm.

And harm was precluded by the spell.  She could not be ordered
to do herself or anyone else harm while under its power.

The battle raged for six infinitely long heartbeats, and then,
a random, uncontrolled thought wedged its way into her mind.

"What if it really is what she wants?  What if it really is
not harm?" 

That moment of weakness was her downfall.

"Kayla, what a lovely surprise.  Darling, I am yours to
command.  Please tell me what you wish me to do."

The box and thermos clattered to the floor as Kayla simply
stared at the cheerfully smiling Christiana.  "What. .  . What
did you say? She finally choked out.  "I. . . I don't think I
heard you correctly."

Spellbound, Chris beamed a huge smile at her former sub. 
"Just what I said, Kayla.  I am at your command.  You may ask
anything of me and I will do it for you."

Pure disbelief creased Kayla's brows into a frown.  "This is
another of your bad jokes, right?  What is going on, Chris?"

Sighing inside, Chris again explained what had happened with
Adrian and the effects of his spell.  It was something like
watching her body do things in a movie - having no control at
all over what was happening on the screen.  Only thing was,
her seat for this show was from inside the play, not in the
theater.

When she finished, Kayla grinned sardonically.  "Great story,
Christiana.  Very entertaining."  Then her face grew furious. 
"Damn you, Chris, you can just kiss my arse, you two faced
bitch."

The words were said in anger, but the spell worked none-the-
less.  Slowly, Chris lowered herself to her knees and crawled
over behind the stunned Kayla.  Lifting the stylish knee-
length skirt, she pressed her face into the pantied bottom,
fervently nuzzling and kissing silky globes.  Still not
believing what was happening, Kayla coughed back a sigh of
surprise and decided to press.  "uhhh... I said my arse,
darling, not my knickers."

Totally in the thrall of the spell, Christiana yielded to
Kayla's demand, her hands shaking as she skinned the silky
bikinis down the long, ebony legs.  Chris returned to her oral
worship, laving the muscular cheeks with her agile tongue. 
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the remarkable contrast
the two of them made.  The milk white skin of the true
redhead, her face buried between the twin moons of the
gorgeous black woman.  God, she thought, what an erotic
picture we make together. 

"Stop licking, Chris, but stay right where you are." The words
shuddered on Kayla's lips as she fought for control.  "On your
knees there, please."

Kayla kicked the panties off her ankles and then stepped away
from Chris.  She needed to distance herself from the kneeling
woman before her.  "You meant it." Incredulous, she shook her
head.  "I don't know if that stuff about being enchanted is
the square deal, but you were serious about obeying me."  She
moved over to one of the room's chairs and sat down on it. 
"Come over here and kneel in front of me, Chris.  I need to
think about this - about what to do about this . . .
development."  An evil smile lit her lovely face then vanished
as her face lost all expression.  "This could be very
interesting."

Despite the silly smile on her face, Chris was really feeling
far more apprehensive than she had with any of her previous
subs - almost frightened, in fact.  Kayla's demeanor had
become so cold, so calculating.  Chris had never seen her like
this before.  Where had she learned to act like that?

>From Christiana, herself, of course.  How often had the
boredom wiped all signs of emotion, any expression of the
shear pleasure of domination from her face?  Upon finding
herself the one with the power in this scenario, Kayla had
begun by modeling herself and her behaviors on the only
dominant she knew.  She was mimicking Christiana because she
did not know just how poor and flawed that example really was.

That thought really frightened Chris.

"You know, darling," Kayla began.  "This is an excellent
opportunity for me to learn some things that I have always
wanted to know."  A feline smile quirked up her full lips. 
"Tell me, luv, do you know any . . . body artists?  Someone
with a good reputation?  Clean needles and all that rot?"

After the previous days discoveries and remembrances, Lillian
French came immediately to mind.  "Yes, Kayla.  I do know a
Mistress who does that type of work.  She is very well thought
of by those in the scene who are into that type of thing."

"Excellent." she purred.  "See if you can get an appointment
with her today.  I would like to meet this woman."

Chris moved over to the phone and dialed Lillian's number from
memory.  Maybe things were going to start going her way for a
change. Lillian's primary occupation as a theatrical costume
designer took up most of her time during the week.  Her body
art work was scheduled around meetings with directors and
acting troops, actual design work for her current projects and
just keeping her books up to date.  Lillian would never be
able to get together with them on such short notice, thank
god.

Fate, or Adrian's curse, was definitely against her.  

Lillian had answered her phone before the phone had completed
its initial tolling.  *Of course* she had time for her friend
Chris.  Oh no, she wasn't busy at all.  Everything was well
ahead of schedule and Lillian was at loose ends for the day. 
Certainly, she had said. Come right on over to her body art
studio.  No time like the present.

Kayla had been thrilled.  Chris had almost been ill.  

God, what was she going to be forced to do?

Lillian ran her body art studio out of her cottage home in
southeast Massachusetts, near Fall River.  Even in her current
highly distracted condition, Chris could not help noticing how
. . . peculiar the traffic and weather was.  

The weather was perfect.  There was no sign of the snow she
had seen that morning from her window anywhere.  The roads
were as clear as they had been when she had last made this
trip in late September.  

And the traffic?  Well, that was downright spooky, too.  This
*was* Boston - the land of a million cars trying to fit onto a
hundred thousand cars worth of roads.  The city that had long
since decided that mere "aggressive driving" was for amateurs
and had moved on to patent its own unique blend of automotive
highway roller derby and vehicular warfare.

There was not another car on entire Massachusetts Turnpike. 
More of Adrian's magic? Was he making sure she arrived safely
at whatever destination she was bound for?  Chris thought
might even welcome a fender bender just now and since her
resident wizard probably knew that, he had taken steps to help
prevent that from happening.

Kayla had been unusually quiet, too.  She had not said a word
the entire trip and that was really disturbing.   Under normal
circumstances, Kayla was a chatter box.  So much so that Chris
routinely gagged her during their scenes just so she could
hear herself think.  

Strange - everything was just so very, very strange.

With no traffic to hinder them and perfect weather the entire
way, they made excellent time once they turned south off the
Turnpike and were soon pulling up the gravel drive to
Lillian's cottage.  Chris knew that her studio shared the
little house's basement with Lillian's private dungeon. 
Submissives regularly came to her accompanied their dominant
partners.  Often these clients wanted to make a ceremony out
of the marking or piercing.  Lillian's dungeon made an
excellent backdrop for whatever they might have planned as a
prelude to the actual tattooing or piercing.

Lillian greeted them at her door.  She led them down to her
basement and then asked what was their pleasure.  

Chris was surprised to realize that she did not know.  She had
expected that, as with Molly and with Leon, she would be
forced telepathically to order what Kayla wanted ordered. 
However, she sensed no subtle directions, no mental prodding. 
She was about to say something when Kayla spoke.

"We are here to have my slave Christiana pierced and tattooed,
Ms. Lillian."

Christiana's mouth dropped in shock.  What did she say?

"Well, Chris," Lillian smiled at her gently.  "It is about
time you checked out the other side of the paddle.  I must
say, you are doing it the way you always do things.  Nothing
half way for our Christiana." She turned her attention back to
Kayla.  "All right, Mistress, tell me how you want your slave
marked.  Then I will ask her to tell me she wants that.  You
do understand that with something as permanent as this, I must
be sure this is completely consensual?"

Kayla beamed.  "Of course I understand." Her tone dropped
confidingly, "Chris knows how much I have always wanted to do
this myself, but have never quite gotten up the nerve.  She
offered, mind you, to have it done so I could watch and see it
done first hand before making up my mind." Amazed and appalled
by what she was hearing, Chris was unable to do anything other
than to nod in agreement. "We don't want too much, Ms.
Lillian.  I think some nipple rings, a navel ring and a stud
just above her clit will do for the piercing.  And I would
like my name tattooed above her slit.  Maybe later we will
have her lip pierced, if we like it."

Lillian showed no surprise or concern when she heard Kayla's
wish list.  She turned to Chris and said, "That is a lot to
deal with for a first time, Chris.  And that tattoo, although
not unusual for life bonded pairs, is permanent.  Are you sure
you want me to do this?" her voice conveyed no worry, no
concern.  She was asking the questions because they were
expected.  Was Lillian under Adrian's thrall, too?

Chris tried with all her will power to fight off the
implacable urge to agree, to consent to this . . . this. . .
Comedy of horrors.  But even as her mind screamed "Noooooooo",
her mouth was happily chirping "Yes, Please, Ms. Lillian."

The two other women then led Chris to a huge, Saint Andrew's
Cross and bound her hand and foot to its extremities.  Once
Chris was restrained, Kayla realized that her slave was still
dressed.  "I think I will take her home nude." she said, "No
need to untie her when we can just cut the clothes off her." 

Lillian agreed and quickly produced two pairs of scissors that
made short work of Christiana's favorite Armani suit.

The preparations were done with painstaking care.  Every step
was explained in vivid and, to Christiana's way of thinking,
gruesome detail.  Kayla hung on Lillian's every word.  Chris
had been unable to watch as Lillian and Kayla had shaved her
once-again fully-furred pubic mound with old fashioned
straight razors.  She had ceased to wonder how that was
possible.  The answer was clear - Adrian's wizardry again. It
had to be.  Hadn't Molly made her shave just two days ago?

They popped an inflatable gag into her mouth just before
Lillian began the actual piercing.  It had tasted utterly
vile, very bitter and tar-like, much like the old India rubber
toys of her youth. Once the business end was fully inflated,
the damnable thing had touched every single one of her taste
buds.  

The piercing had gone pretty much as Chris had expected. 
She'd gotten her ears pierced in the past, and these had felt
about the way Chris remembered her ears feeling.  Lillian had
used ice on her nipples, not so much as an anesthetic as to
make them erect.  The needle had not really hurt that much,
not physically anyway.  But mentally and emotionally, the
moment when the needle had slid into and then out of her
living flesh had been agonizing.  As with the shaving, she had
been unable to watch as Lillian had widened the hole for the
particularly heavy gauge silver rings that Kayla had selected
for her slave.  The navel ring had gone without any real
trouble, but the piercing of her clitoral hood had hurt.  A
LOT!!  Chris had squealed as loudly as the gag would permit. 
Why had it hurt so much??  Hadn't Lillian once told Chris that
she usually slipped in at least a topical anesthetic when a
subject getting a clitoral piercing was distracted ?  Lillian
did not want her subject to damage herself by trying to jump
when the needle went in.  Chris *knew* that nothing had been
used to dull her pain.

Finally, it was over.  Small, throbbing knots of pain twisted
and coiled at the tips of her breasts and above her groin. 
But only the first phase of Kayla's plan was complete, and
Lillian moved back to her studio to prepare the tattoo gun.  

Unable to drag her eyes away, Chris watched Lillian move
around her workshop, selecting the right needles and testing
their sharpness, getting the proper color inks out of her
cupboard and then finally,  bringing the lot over to the cross
where Chris hung.  Horror that she was not permitted to
express raced about her caged mind.  Adrian's curse left her
mind helpless, simply a spectator to whatever was done to her
body, unable to do anything about what was happening to her. 
She could not even cry.  Kayla wanted her to be happy, or at
least, to seem happy.  So Chris looked happy, and was denied
even the limited solace of giving voice to her grief.

Lillian slid a stool and a frightening contraption over to
Christiana's cross.  She adjusted the stool's height and sat
down to survey her "canvas".  With a black magic marker, she
began to lightly sketch the stylistic outline of Kayla's name
above Christiana's clitoris.  

Inwardly, Chris felt herself crumbling.  The piercing were one
thing.  She could live with the holes the needles had made in
her flesh.  Once this punishment of Adrian's was over, she
could take those rings and the post out of her body.  The
holes would scar over, close up.  It would be her choice
again.  But the tattoo.  That was forever.  To Christiana's
limited knowledge of the process, all tattoo removal methods
were, at best, only partially successful.  Chris would have to
live with the memory of Kayla's name on her body for the rest
of her life.

Then Lillian sat back on her stool, finally satisfied with her
plan for Christiana's tattoo.  With great care and
deliberation, she picked up the tattoo appliance and moved it
inexorably toward Chris.  

At the first icy cold hint of steel on her flesh, Chris went
mad.  And neither Kayla nor Lillian saw or felt the slightest
indication of her fall from sanity.  

Helpless, unable to command her body to escape, to fight,
Christiana's mind screamed. . .

And screamed. . .


                . . . .And screamed. . . . .


                             .  . . . Until her brain could 
no longer bear the pain. . . . .


. . . . and her world went mercifully black.