 Title: The Creation Of A Dominatrix Most of those who knew Cheyenne would have described her as something akin to an angel. Long blonde hair curling around an oval face with translucent skin and the deepest of blue eyes. She was the quiet type - sweet and gentle, but introspective, the kind of woman who kept her deepest thoughts hidden behind a playful smile. Her fellow teachers thought she was wonderful. They were amazed at how easily she could control a classroom full of rowdy fourth graders without ever raising her voice. Even her family members, parents, siblings, aunts and uncles thought of Cheyenne as the most unassertive member of the clan; she was the one who took everything in stride, always the voice of reason. It would have been incomprehensible for any of these people to believe that every weekend the seemingly conservative, almost timid Cheyenne they knew could be found dressed in the skimpiest of leather outfits surrounded by a group of her closest women friends who came together to enact spanking scenarios for their mutual fulfillment and pleasure. What would have been most surprising to Cheyenne's family, friends and co-workers was that in this roomful of mostly switch-able and submissive ladies, Cheyenne was the dominant-in-charge. All orders were given by her and followed by the others; when a bottom was bared, it was Mistress Chey who decided the methodology and degree of punishment given. It was she who always served up the first punishing blows, and usually the last as well. Cheyenne had determined at an early age she would keep her two worlds separate and apart. It was her sophomore year at college when she fell in love with a boy only slightly older. Their relationship seemed to be developing nicely but Cheyenne, inexperienced as she was, knew something was not quite right. On the anniversary of their first month together she planned a romantic evening; dinner, a movie, and back to Tommy's apartment for what she hoped would be a rousing finale to the evening. Unfortunately, when they got back to his apartment, Tommy's moves were a little halfhearted. Worried she might have done something to put Tommy off, Chey asked him to tell her what she had done wrong. Taking both her hands in his, Tommy began the explanation that was to change Chey's life. He told her she hadn't done anything wrong, that she was, in fact, the most special person he'd ever met. The problem was he had a secret that filled his every waking thought. It was a passion that permeated and defined his sexual being. He was afraid to share it with her for fear of how she might react. "Well," she responded, "how will we know unless you tell me?" Cheyenne had never seen Tommy look at her as cautiously, yet hopefully as he did at that minute. Ever so slowly, he began to tell her of his lifelong obsession with spanking. He recounted childhood memories of over-the-knee spankings by his parents and the effect they'd had on him. He told her of his first disastrous attempt to engage a high school girlfriend in a spanking scenario and the quick demise thereafter of that relationship. He then surprised her by reaching under his bed, bringing out a box filled with magazines, each one dealing with spanking and related topics. He showed her pictures of women in various states of undress, their backsides perched high over the knees of stern-looking men. In picture after picture, hands, paddles and hairbrushes crashed down on the helpless rear ends of a bevy of women and young girls. Beautifully rounded tushies, erotically angled, turned beet red while the men in the pictures spanked on with determination. Tommy waited expectantly for Cheyenne's reaction. Chey herself didn't know what to do or think. This was absolutely out of her league. She had always believed spanking was a form of brutality, something untrained and unthinking adults did to assert their superiority over helpless children. It was abusive. There was nothing exciting or sexual about a spanking. There must be something seriously wrong with Tommy. And yet. She loved him. And he had demonstrated time and again over the past month what a kind, devoted and thoughtful person he was. If this was what Tommy wanted, maybe she should try. Slowly, never taking her eyes off him, Cheyenne stood up, raised her skirt and placed herself over her boyfriend's lap. Tommy was clearly taken aback. With hands trembling, he tentatively reached under the waistband of Chey's skimpy panties bringing them to her knees. For a moment he just stared at the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen; the long smoothly muscled legs giving way to a most inviting rounded target. His first spank was light, more like a caress. But as Tommy gave in to his desires, the spanks became harder and harder. It didn't take long for Chey to feel the heat rising on her quickly reddening flesh. Although the pain wasn't overwhelming, it triggered memories of brutal whippings she had received as a child. Quickly Cheyenne demanded that Tommy stop and let her up. Just as she had thought at the start, this wasn't about excitement or pleasure, but pain. Tommy, at first suffused with passion, was now devastated. Quietly and without looking at each other they removed their clothes, tumbling into bed and a troubled sleep. Cheyenne woke early the next morning, having slept fitfully. Leaving Tommy asleep in bed, she made her way to the kitchen where she prepared the morning coffee she couldn't function without. Sipping slowly, she thought about all that had occurred the previous night. While there was no question she had not enjoyed the pain of being spanked, Chey had to admit to herself a curiosity had been awakened. Quietly she pulled the box of magazines out of the bedroom, placing it in front of the living room sofa. Reaching in, she pulled a magazine from the bottom of the box. As she looked at the picture on the cover, something in Cheyenne snapped. She felt herself start to flush, her breath came in short gasps and unconsciously she began to rub her panty-covered mound. As she sank into the sofa, Chey stared transfixed at the picture on the cover. Unlike the magazines Tommy had shown her last night, this magazine cover featured a determined looking woman, seated on a stool. Laying over the one knee she had propped out dangled the form of a young male. In her hand, which was poised high over the male's already ripe ass, was a large wooden hairbrush. Cheyenne thought she might pass out as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. This was like nothing she'd ever experienced. When she finally calmed down she tore through the magazine in her hands. She read story after story, each one dealing with a form of female domination. Woman spanked men; women spanked other women. But always, in every story, there was a woman who took command, who exercised her will, which others meekly obeyed. When Tommy woke, he was surprised to see Cheyenne seated across the room eyeing him carefully. She had showered and was dressed in a pair of high-cut bikini panties and a cut-off t-shirt. The intensity of the look on her face was filled with something Tommy had never seen in Cheyenne before; dressed as skimpily as she was, there was something commanding and powerful about her. Chey greeted him curtly and without preamble, asked him why the magazines he had shown her the previous evening only featured stories and artwork which depicted women receiving discipline at the hands of males. Tommy stammered out a lame explanation but Chey wasn't having it. "Thomas," she said to him slowly but steadily, "last night you spanked me. Now I'm going to return the favor. You're going to do exactly as I tell you, now and in the future. I want you to get out of that bed immediately and place yourself over my knees. I'm going to spank you long and hard. I will use my hand and whatever else I feel like using. If you find it hurts, too bad, I'm in charge. If you disobey me in any way, I will tie you face down on the bed and whip your ass raw with your own belt. Do you understand?" Numb with shock, Tommy nodded. Zombie-like he got out of bed, walked over to Chey and placed his naked body over her shapely legs. "I'm so glad we understand each other," she purred smoothly. With that, she raised her hand high, and brought it down resoundingly over the meatiest part of his firm buns. He jumped as Chey's hand print quickly appeared. The feeling of raw power and control sent a wave of electricity through Cheyenne's body. As her hand once more crashed on Tommy's cheeks, she realized she'd tapped into a part of herself she hadn't known existed. Again and again her hand rained down on Tommy's now slightly puffy globes. Not feeling the least tired, Cheyenne reached for the dresser situated next to the chair. Grabbing Tommy's plastic hair brush, she resumed her attack sending a steady stream of spanks on his already well-punished cheeks, only this time with the brush. When she finished she ordered Tommy to remain across her lap. She asked him if he had deserved his chastisement to which he assented. She then asked if he would continue to obey her every command. Caving completely, Tommy said he would. At that moment Cheyenne realized she had come to a crossroads in her life, one from which she would never turn back. ~Yoni Marten |
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