The Mistress

By Aksinia Astakhov

Part 3: Catharsis

Things had taken an unexpected turn. Tiffany, who employed me as house cleaner, had been tied up and humiliated by her soon-to-be ex-husband and his slutty mistress Alessandra. With help from me and Miss Terri, a professional dominatrix who was a research subject of mine, we had kidnapped Alessandra and ‘gone all Indian on her ass’ as they say. As far as I knew, she was due for another dose of punishment, but Terri had left her alone in the dark, hog tied and exhausted from multiple orgasms, and she had called a meeting of her girls, the Team, inviting me in to hear the plans. We were told that we were to take Alessandra to the Convent, Terri’s place in the country, and that further treatment would be given to our captive there. I’d never been out to this place before, although I’d heard of it, and Terri explained it to me in between giving directions, as I drove the two of us there in my car.

“I bought it a few years ago when property was cheap. It was once actually a real convent, in a poor state, so I got it cheap and smartened it up. Sometimes I go and stay there myself if I want to get away from it all, or I might take certain clients there, the very rich ones. Some of the rooms have been converted into themed dungeons.”

I was not really surprised to learn this, Terri’s world was one of fetish, and whilst people were prepared to pay for what others would consider strange, she would continue to take the money and meets the needs of what was in fact a surprisingly large minority. And she enjoyed her job.

Still I pitied poor Alessandra somewhat. I could not imagine what was in store for her.

After we arrived, Terri asked me to wait in the small entrance hall, an elegant room of dark wood panelling and brass fittings. There were two long mirrors to left and right of the main door, facing each other, and set at a slight angle from each other so you could see your own back, and you seemed to gaze into infinity, the multiple reflections almost hypnotic in their effect. I stood there admiring myself in the mirrors, smoothing out the creases in my dress, wondering what they’d done with Alessandra. Suddenly the Team came through a door and gathered round me, took hold of me, and hustled me along a corridor and through a heavy oak door into a large room. After the initial shock, I knew resistance was useless, but I was confused – why had they grabbed me, and more importantly, what were they going to do to me?

The room was in the form of a medieval chapel, the bare stone walls and floors almost certainly the original material, centuries old perhaps, scrubbed clean and of a rich sand colour. Three stone pillars ran in a row in the centre of the room and supported the arched ceiling, and the late afternoon sunlight shone through the beautiful stained glass windows at the far end. I had no time to study the finer points of medieval architecture as I was immediately bound with ropes to the farthest pillar, facing away from the windows and back towards the door. A scarf gag was tied around my head, and my wrists were secured with cold steel handcuffs behind the pillar. There was no point trying to escape or protest. I was clearly part of a plan. I’d seen this kind of thing before, Terri and her team fulfilling some rich man’s fantasy, but this time I was one of the actors, not just the observer.


A slumped figure was brought in to the room, supported by two of the Team members at either side. I assumed it was Alessandra, but as they lowered her to the floor and began to secure her to the central pillar, I could see that it was Tiffany!

Terri walked over to me. “Oh Aksinia” – for it was indeed your humble author – “you were a good student. I won’t ask you to forgive me for what we’ve done, because as you are no doubt aware having studied us for some time, we don’t care about that sort of thing. It’s just down to money you see, simple as that. Her husband has more than she does. He contacted me, basically paid me to free Alessandra and also to give Tiffany here a lesson she won’t forget in a hurry. And as you were her maid...” – I bristled at that title – “’re on her side, so I’m afraid we must part company. Don’t worry, you won’t suffer too much. Now watch and learn, perhaps your research project can include this delightful arrangement.”

“You will observe that Tiffany has been dressed suitably for the establishment, she is playing the role of a nun found guilty of sexual deviancies and fornications too endless to list here, and I as Mother Superior, am overseeing her punishment.”

Tiffany had indeed been clothed in the traditional black and white habit of the archetypal nun, and it appeared that she had been drugged too, probably with the same stuff we used on Alessandra earlier; I found it darkly amusing that she was considered to be “playing”. Terri continued, as the Team continued securing their prey to the pillar.

“As Sister Tiffany comes round she will be engulfed by sensations, most of which will resonate with her deeper forbidden desires, but she will soon realise that she is not here by choice and in fact what she desires most will become a form of torture for her. At first she will understand that she cannot move, because she is constrained, and on her knees.

“Having understood her predicament, the next thing she will feel is the gag. A large soft sponge ball has been crammed into her mouth, held by a strap to prevent it from coming loose. Over this are several pieces of duct tape. She will then become aware that her head is covered in something. This is a tight fitting white cowl, a specially designed nun’s wimple, completely covering her head and lower face, even covering the tape gag, leaving only her eyes and nose free.”

I looked at the kneeling figure and saw the wimple, and noted also the black cloth which framed Tiffany’s face and hung down her back. Tiffany might try to call for help but the combination of sponge ball, tape and cloth would be very effective at silencing her.

“She will then become aware that her arms are pulled back behind her and secured in place although by what means she will not be able to determine. In fact her wrists are bound with ropes and linked to her ankles which are similarly tightly bound, thus making her body and limbs into a triangle. As she struggles to turn and see what is holding her in position, she will find that she is kneeling with her back to the stone pillar, and that more ropes join her arms together at the elbow, thus preventing her from pulling away from it. Glancing downwards she will see that her body is encased in a black robe, buttoned from waist to throat, with a white rope tightly around her waist, also attached to the pillar. She will then feel the pressure from the butt plug and the vibrator, lying still and silent inside her, and held in place by tight support panties.”


 I knew from observing other sessions that these toys would be wired to a timer, perhaps set randomly, perhaps set on full for 30 minutes or more, it was all down to Terri’s whim. Terri was relishing the description she was giving, so I assumed that this punishment would not be over quickly.

“Sister Tiffany might just be able to see her calves, encased in heavy black nylon, and perhaps the plain black leather shoes, rather tightly laced to her feet. But in trying to turn further her vision will be impaired by the black headdress veil, and she will feel the brush of something attached to her nipples beneath the robe, which will instinctively make her face the front again. As she will then soon find out, these are electrical stimulus pads.”

And, I thought, most likely on the same timer as the vibrator and butt plug.

“Pausing to calm her breathing which of course is only possible through her nose, she will feel the cushion under her knees and realise that whoever had put her in this position intends her to be there for the long term.  She will then look around her and attempt to cry out for help, which will not be forthcoming. She will see you Aksinia, standing, roped to another pillar, off to her right. Of course you are also immobile, and unable to help her. Thus she becomes desperate to escape.”

Terri turned away from me, serenely observing the kneeling figure, who was gradually waking from her drugged state.

 The viscose scarf they’d used on me as a cleave gag was not particularly effective at preventing me from making any noise, such as pleading to be released, but that didn’t matter. The Convent was miles from anywhere so there’d be no-one around to hear my plaintive muffled cries.  What the scarf did do was give an extra frisson to the scene, another layer of humiliation – that was the point. I was not the main target here. Tiffany’s gag, I knew, was intended to prevent her from making too much noise when the vibrator, butt plug and nipple pads came to life. As Terri had once explained to me, it was possible to arrange the timer to provide short bursts of stimulation, not enough to make the victim come, but enough to inflame the passions, as she so decorously put it, and leave them begging for more. Frustration was just part of the torture. Then orgasm when it came would only be a brief respite, and after two or maybe three orgasms, the timer would push the intensity up for a longer period, and the victim begs for release...

I felt a drip of cold water on my forearms, behind the pillar. Ah, so there was going to be a release then, a key frozen in ice I assumed. Well thank goodness for that. But there was no way I would be able to let Tiffany know that, she would have no idea whether this torment would ever end.

Terri and the team left the room, and I watched as Tiffany went through the phases that had been predicted, eventually hearing the familiar buzz of the vibrator.

There was to be one final humiliation though. Her husband must have been seriously pissed, and seriously wealthy, to get all this treatment arranged. Terri returned some time later, followed by the two girls in the team, each carrying a large lit red candle, and all robed in black. They stood around the kneeling figure of Tiffany and Terri passed her candle to one of the girls, then bent forward and unbuttoned Tiffany’s black top, pushing the cloth back over her shoulders as far as it would go, revealing the black lace bra beneath. I could just make out the wires leading from the electro-pads.

Taking her candle back, she began to tip hot wax onto Tiffany’s breasts. The other girls each took turns, provoking much wriggling and mewling from their now fully awake and sensitised victim. This went on for maybe five minutes, after which Terri rebuttoned the blouse, and left Tiffany to her fate. The buzzing stopped and started repeatedly.

Terri moved in close to me before she left, speaking in a low voice so that only I would be able to hear. “When, after a few hours, you’re both free, neither of you will cause any trouble like going to the police or thinking about revenge, because, well, we know where you live, and of course the photographs and video taken by our hidden cameras might just fall into the hands of people that you would perhaps not want to know about them.” It was a sufficient threat for me. And after those long few hours waiting for the ice to melt and the key to fall into my hands, watching the waves of stimulation pass through Tiffany’s pain-and-pleasure wracked body over and over again, she and I left the Convent, not saying a word to each other. There seemed to be no-one in the building so I went out to my car still parked out front, and drove us back into the city.



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