Blackbelt Dominatrix 2

Noël Burch - nburch@wanadoo.fr

The continued exploits of Cornelia and her Japanese lover, jiu-jitsu expert Michiko.

Chapter Five

An Evening in the Inner City

And Ronald returned to his humdrum existence. It would be an exaggeration to say he never thought of Cornelia, he did think of her from time to time, but somehow he knew he wasn’t supposed to think about her at all. So, as usual, he thought mostly about his job which was comfortably abstract and had nothing do with his body except the occasional backache, and when he thought about his body at all it was about how unattractive he looked in a mirror. Or else he talked to Mitch, who was almost his only real friend.

It was Mitch who’d fixed up his blind date with Cornelia, and when he’d thanked him the next day for "a great lay" in his best macho style, Mitch gave him a funny look: "That’s all?" he asked, somewhat enigmatically, and went back to his office. He hadn’t mentioned the matter since, which didn’t really surprise Ronald. He was probably jealous. What had he ever gotten out of Cornelia?

Ronald awoke with a start : there it was again that dream which he inevitably forgot seconds after waking, but which always left strangely mixed memories of flying….

Three months went by.

Then one day in his office he picked up the ringing phone and before he could say hello, a deep female voice said … " Ronald?" It was a voice he was certain he knew… He started to mumble but the voice cut in : "Mews adore a nose" it said, slowly and clearly, then a click and the dial tone…

What the hell? thought Ronald. He could have sworn the voice was Cornelia’s. Why had she hung up on him? She’d said something… but what did it mean? The next thing he knew he was leaving his office. There was something he had to do… At the news-stand in the lobby, he found himself asking for a magazine he’d never heard of, "S-M World". The woman looked impatient and said : "We don’t carry that kind of thing".

The news-stands in Century City were few and far apart and most of them didn’t carry that kind of thing either. Nearly an hour had gone by before Ronald came back to his office carrying his magazine in the proverbial plain wrapper. His secretary told him the boss was asking for him; he dropped on his desk and hurried upstairs.

It wasn’t until late that afternoon that he peaked inside the magazine and decided he’s better wait til he was out of his glass office. He’d leave early for once.

Leafing through the glossy pages in the rush-hour jam on the Santa Monica freeway, he couldn’t imagine why he’d bought such trash : it was full of ridiculous pictures in vulgar colors of women dressed in rubber or leather, sometimes whipping pot-bellied, middle-aged men in harnesses! Ugh! Yet he knew he couldn’t throw it away.

Pausing by the ashcans next to his garage, he wondered again why the hell he couldn’t throw the damned thing away... He just wouldn’t feel right not carrying through with his mad imulse, he decided and went in the back-door of the Malibu bungalow where he lived alone since his wife had left him for a "real man". The cat rubbed against his legs while he was pouring a drink. He fed it and then settled down to search for what he was meant to find in "S-M World".

"Musidora & Lotus Blossom". The words leapt out at him from a full-page spread advertising a "Fetish Fair" in ten days time at an address in Downtown L.A. "Musidora knows" was printed underneath in smaller type. "That was what she’d said!, he realized. "Musidora and Lotus Blossom" were one of "three featured attractions" at the Fair Ronald knew he would have to attend … and found the prospect completely repellent!

As the fateful date drew near, one thing irked Ronald seriously and that was the prominent mention in the ad : "Fetishwear required". O.K., he had the magazine and he could find out where to buy the stuff. But he figured it would be expensive and though he earned a good salary and spent little, Roland was a tightwad. So what to get? The only clothing he found at all attractive in the magazine was the sort of biker’s gear some of the guys were wearing and he knew what that stuff cost!. Yet he already knew he’d spend the money. It riled him, but he knew he would.

The address was in one of the most rundown parts of downtown Los Angeles, the streets thronged with woebegone homeless who filled Ronald with fear and loathing. The fair was a nocturnal event, from Saturday night to Sunday morning. It occupied several floors of artists’ lofts, elaborately decorated for the occasion. It was divided up into stands, and was just like an ordinary indoor fair, except for the colors : everything was black or red or sometimes purple … And the lighting was dramatic, with huge spotlit blow-ups of pictures like the ones in "S-M World" hanging on wires.

Ronald had arrived early, around 9PM, feeling conspicuous in his black leather jeans and vest. Now he moved from stand to stand, feigning indifference to hide his repulsion :it was all so grotesque! A tall, buxom woman in a PVC leotard was demonstrating to a small but appreciative audience the effective use of a wicked whip made of knotted thongs. The pervert attached to a wooden cross seemed to be enjoying every stroke. But actually, Ronald noticed, the woman wasn’t hitting very hard.

There was one big stage where it seemed anybody could just go up and do their thing. Right now, a guy in leather was spanking a woman dressed as a little girl. They were both enjoying themselves and Ronald found this a more pleasing spectacle.. For a few moments he stood chuckling with the other men who watched.

There was a ring where some rather attractive women in leather halters or rubber tights were offering to wrestle men. Those who went up their and stripped down, all acted like wimps and just let the women throw them all over the mat. Or so it looked to Ronald, who soon grew disgusted and walked on.

There was even one disgusting stand where women two women had a man in a crazy rubber suit with tubes : he seemed to be drinking his own urine! Ronald thought he was going to lose his dinner.

Suddenly he saw the sign he was looking for : "Musidora & Lotus Blossom : enter if you dare". Unlike the other stands he’d seen, this one was entirely closed, with only a narrow entrance obscured by a heavy drape. Knowing this was where he had to be, he pulled back the drape and went inside..

It was pitch black inside: he could just make out the presence of a few rows of rising seats on either side. At first, he was too busy feeling his way to an empty seat to see what was happening on the raised, bright-lit, stage. He was just slipping into a front row seat on the center aisle when there came a shout from the stage, a sort of ‘ha!" and Ronald focused his vision just in time to see the body of a nude man flying through the air and landing on the stage with a karrummp! and a yell of pain. The man was tall and strong and had been thrown by a small, compact, definitely female figure in a shiny white cat-suit made of some sort of plastic or rubber. At her waist was a tight coil of fine cord.

Quick as a cat, she was bending over the fallen man, seized his wrists with crossed hands and flipped him over on his stomach. Now, stepping over his back, she whipped his arms up behind his head and squatted low, trapping them just beneath the elbows with her shins. He was helpless; she had her hands free.

Actually, Ronald now saw, the man was not quite naked. He wore a G-string and a black rubber hood covering his entire head, with just two small holes for the nostrils and a larger one for the mouth. The girl in the white rubber suit took the long cord from her waist and began tying up her victim with the velocity and dexterity of those rodeo stars Ronald sometimes watched on TV. first his wrists and elbows were locked together by a skein that soon made them into a single rigid limb sticking out behind his back. Next, she pulled this upward as far as it would go and began to weave a complicated web which would fix it to the neck and shoulders. The man groaned but stood the agony well. Ronald was shocked and horrified : what kind of a creep would let himself be tortured this way?

Now the expert girl was deftly winding the cord down around his chest, under his crotch - where she drew it tight for more groans of pain - then down and around the legs. Grabbing one of his ankles, she crossed his legs and applied what looked like an excruciating lock that strained both ankles and knees, then secured it permanently with loops and twists of cord.

A few more quick knots and it was done : the man had become a human package, lying motionless on his side at her feet, members folded at odd angles,.

She came forward, still unsmiling, and bowed to a round of applause and words of congratulations (she was clearly a familiar figure to the audience). Ronald felt disturbed: where had he seen that inscrutable mask-like face?

She certainly was an attractive morsel, he thought, as she stood there bowing discreetly, looking like she’d been poured into that gleaming white cat-suit which left bare only her hands and the perfect oval of her face. She turned, pulled down a steel snaphook on the end of a rope and fastened it to a loop protruding from the intricate bondage. Ronald heard a noise at the back of the stage and realized that there was another person present, who must have standing motionless in the shadows all this time, and who, as another spotlight came on, could be seen bending over a small winch. This woman wore a black leather cowl over her head and upper face and a long black cape from which only her gloved hands and booted calves emerged.

When the "patient" was about three feet above the stage, the cranking ceased and the cloaked woman strode gracefully to center-stage, holding something that looked like a small billiard ball in her gloved hand. She pinched the suspended man’s nostrils and when he opened his mouth for air, popped the ball inside. Her fingers lingered in the mouth until there was a click and the words the man had been trying to speak were brutally choked off.

The dark cloak slid from the woman’s shoulders and Lotus Blossom hung it somewhere at the back. "Musidora" stood tall and lithe in a handsomely tailored, curve-hugging body stocking of soft black leather that gleamed dully in the stage lights. Ronald immediately thought it was like no piece of clothing he had ever seen, but when his roving eye reached the French-heeled "boots" and saw that they were actually the bottoms of the leather legs, he was quite shocked ! He’d never seen anything quite so outrageous. But taking in the statuesque beauty of the masked figure as a whole, he began to find her get-up pretty sexy after all, the way that whole desirable body was encased in a single sheath of leather… Ronald shook himself: Christ, was he getting into this shit?

Lotus Blossom returned to stage front pulling on a pair of white rubber gloves which appeared to have some sort of rough, non-slip facing on the fingers and palms. Meanwhile, however, Musidora was brushing her lips over the inside of the man’s thighs and up towards his groin in a very exciting way, presumably for the bound man, certainly for the audience. This was more like it! thought Ronald, beginning to get hard…

But now Lotus Blossom approached the splayed and vulnerable body, rotated it so the back was to the audience, stood to one side so everyone could see exactly what she was going to do and placed her hand on the man’s right shoulder. She probed delicately, feeling her way among the muscles, then suddenly her arm went taught and expelled her breath sharply and dug all four fingers into the flesh with a twisting, clenching pinch..

The muffled sound that came out of the man’s throat was near enough to a shriek to curdle the blood of everyone in the room. The tightly bound limbs even managed to writhe a little. Ronald was taken aback : this was certainly a lot heavier than that so-called flagellation he’d seen earlier! Whatever the small Japanese beauty had done to that man, it was clear that it really hurt.. Musidora had known what she was doing when she put in that gag : nobody would have stayed in that stand a minute longer if they had heard that scream at full volume. Musidora immediately stepped forward to kiss and rub the abused flesh, but the man kept moaning and writhing in his bonds.

Again the Japanese girl deftly rotated the hanging man, this time exhibiting one of his feet. She pointed for all to see at a spot on the ankle bone, then took the foot in both hands and pressed with her thumb. The spasm that shook the suspended body was even more impressive than before, the raucous throat sounds were almost frightening. Even after she had released the pressure, his whole body was seen to be shivering from the shock.

Ronald had had enough, he felt disgusted at the idea of men letting themselves be humiliated this way! But he also wanted to leave because he actually felt increasingly fascinated by this repellant spectacle. He half-rose out of his seat but immediately sat down again when he realized that the stand was crowded and that seated as he was, he was about to become the center of attention... for the audience… but especially for the women on stage. He didn’t like that idea.

So he sat back and watched the "good cop bad cop" treatment meted out a half dozen more times : agonizing pressures, squeezes and pinches followed by soothing kisses and caresses. At length the ordeal was over. The man was lowered to the floor and Lotus Blossom pulled effortlessly on a few cords here and there, releasing the martyr as if by magic. Musidora bent over him, inserted a tiny key into his mouth, collapsed and removed the diabolical gag. Then she whipped off the man’s hood, helped him to his feet and the three stepped forward arm in arm to receive their applause.

Ronald stared unbelieving. Not at the two beauties in cat-suits, but at the all-but-naked man between them : Mitch! At first, Ronald could not accept what he saw, it had to be a twin brother or something. O.K., he knew Mitch was a swinger, but this! And then he noticed that his friend didn’t actually look too well, he was very and trembling. The women were supportting him on either side and it was with kind solicitude that they helped him to a sofa by the stage (there was actually one on either side, Ronald noticed). Musidora laid him on it with comforting words and gestures, then threw a light blanket over him. He smiled gratefully at her, but was still in a state of semi-shock.

Back in the center of the stage Musidora was challenging the audience in her throaty tones, while Lotus Blossom stalked the floor, looking spectators in the eye. "Well, who’s next ?"said Musidora "Come on , you guys… I know there are some real pervs out there who just love our games so don’t be shy, come on up and let us give you a thrill." But nobody responded to Musidora’s challenge. She played a tiny spotlight over the faces and Roland realized that they were almost all men, looking more or less embarrassed and just sat there. He saw one of the few women urging the man next to her to step forward but he shook his head..

Suddenly Ronald felt a sharp, paralyzing pain at the base of his neck. His hand shot up convulsively - and uselessly - to relieve it.

"I see we have a volunteer! " said Musidora comin over and smiling down. He hadn’t even noticed the Japanese girl beside him until she got him with one of those nasty tricks of hers. "Show the young man up here my dear Lotus. He’s not very pretty but the body looks OK!" Lotus Blossom released the tendon she was pinching in his neck and took him by the arm. The grip seemed harmless enough to the onlooker but in fact if Ronald accompanied his doll-like escort (she was so close he could smell her rubber suit) it was because of the way she was squeezing his arm just above the elbow, in a place that hurt like hell. "Ouch, let go of me, he said in a low voice, I’m not going up there." He was about to appeal to the audience, then realized how useless that would be: these men were here to see other men hurt by this girl, under the assumption that the victims loved it! His cries for help would sound like part of an act! They were approaching the steps at the side of the little stage. As he was being compliant, the Jap slightly relaxed her punishing grip and Ronald saw his chance. With a sudden effort, he jerked free and started running for the center aisle and the exit. But over his head, a voice cracked like a whip, a voice he knew, a voice he had to obey… He froze in his tracks : "Musidora commands you" said the voice. And Lotus Blossom came and took him gently by the hand, really gently this time, and led him up the steps and onto the stage. Somewhere far away, he could hear people applauding

From the moment the voice had spoken, Ronald had felt very different, very calm, it almost wasn’t him experiencing these things at all, it was like a dream. He stepped up on stage to find Musidora’s eyes suddenly boring into him from behind the leather mask. As she locked his gaze, her fingertips touched the veins in his wrists and an electric shock ran up his arms and into his brain… She said quietly "Thank you Lotus Blossom" and led him center stage.

"First," said Musidora to the audience, a little demonstration from my dear Lotus Blossom…Our friend here will be happy to assist her…" Some people chortled. She bent over and whispered in Ronald’s ear: "Rape her! Now! Musidora commands it!" And to his total confusion, he found himself stalking across the stage towards the girl, who just stood there, a perfect female form, molded in white rubber. Perhaps she was just an exercise dummy? He’d grab her buy the shoulders, bear her to the ground, tear through that thin suit and put his cock in her cunt,, yeah!. Where was the problem? He even had a big hard-on…

He was close enough now to smell the pungent odor and was reaching out to grab her when one rubber hand grabbed a handful of his hair and the other his genitals (gasps from the audience).and she just seemed to fade away under him. Paralyzed with the pain high and low, Ronald heard himself scream as his feet left the floor and he slid dizzily over the smooth arch of her back; landing - by chance? he wondered - on the empty sofa next to the stage. The applause was tremendous. Ronald couldn’t understand how he could have forgotten what that little Jap could to a man’s body.

Musidora caught his eyes briefly again and suddenly he forgot the pain in his groin and was scrambling back onto the stage. "That was a classical throw in judo," Musidora resumed, "but as you saw, a jiu-jitsu expert doesn’t waste time with sleeves and lapels, she uses the natural handles on a man’s body." At this point, Ronald, still in a daze and walking with some difficulty to answer the irresistible summons of Musidora’s eyes, was just passing by the formidable figure of Lotus Blossom. As if to illustrate the speaker’s last words, a rubber-sheathed arm sprang forth like a white cobra and Ronald’s middle finger was engulfed in a shint white fist and bent sharply back. The lovely jiu-jitsuan pulled his arm out straight, gripped her wrist with her other hand and jammed her elbow up under his, locking it cruelly.

"She can now break his finger, fracture his wrist, or dislocate his elbow, the pain puts him completely at her mercy," Musidora continued with cold relish. Ronald was forced onto his toes and Lotus Blossom backed him thus all around the stage, again to the great satisfaction of the audience. Humiliated beyond words despite his odd state of mind, he begged for mercy under his breath. But the inscrutable Japanese only shifted her hold to a wrist-lock, knocked his legs out from under him with a deft sweep of her foot and whipped him to the floor, where she bent his hand towards his wrist, planted a rubber slipper in the hollow of his shoulder and blocked his captive elbow with her knee. Through the applause, he heard the voice of Musidora : "… a swan wrist-lock, of course but note the added touch : her thumb is hooked around the little finger, bending it back. The sum total of all that pain can be devastating.:" And indeed as Lotus Blossom turned on the "juice" ever so slightly, Ronald found himself screaming again.

The terrifying girl relaxed her grip a bit. As he lay there helpless, still thinking his pinky was going to break or his arm be pulled out of its socket, Ronald tried to grasp what was happening to him. Why had he come to this place at all? How had he gotten into these crazy bitches’ show? He remembered breaking away from the Jap, running to the door, he’d already been on his way out… And yet now here he was, a helpless prisoner in front of thirty people! He decided that all he could do was to submit and let matters take their course. "The show must go on", but it also must come to an end some day! And then there was something else gnawing at his mind, a weird sense of déjà vu.

Musidora pattered softly on : "… and now my little Lotus is going to give you an unusual treat: a jiu-jitsu pressure-point knock-out that is rarely performed in public… " She added roguishly : "You mustn’t tell anybody, we might get into trouble !" (complicit laughter from the audience).Without for an instant relinquishing her total control over Ronald’s wracked body, the deadly oriental doll again shifted her hold so that Ronald was forced over onto his side and she was kneeling behind him. She had one of his arms twisted and locked back over her thigh, while the other was pinned to the floor by his own weight. Her knee was "accidentally" digging into his kidney; he couldn’t move a muscle and was in great pain. "By pressing a certain spot on the neck with just two fingers," Musidora showed the audience a kind of two-digit scout salute, "she can make the biggest man lose consciousness in less than fifteen seconds… Longer pressure could kill…" Ronald felt cold rubber probing at his carotid artery, then there was a sudden dull pain and his temples began to pound… A red veil dropped over his eyes, Musidora’s voice faded away and so did everything else.

When he awoke he was lying on what he immediately recognized as the couch by the stage. He hurt all over, especially his right wrist and lower back. It was darker than before and he sensed that the tiny theatre was empty now. But as his eyes grew accustomed to the dark, he did see one lone figure standing in the shadows at the foot of the bed. "Welcome to the club", said a man’s voice.

Mitch had recovered completely from Lotus Blossoms ministrations.

"What club?" Then : "Oh no, not me! I was shanghaied! What the hell are you doing in a place like this, though ?"

"The same thing as you, enjoying myself."

Ronald sat up to protest, but said instead : "Who are those women?"

"Didn’t you recognize Cornelia? I thought you had such a ball with her a couple of months back?"

Cornelia! Of course! How could he have been so stupid. It had been somehow as if he had not allowed himself to recognize her. I his embarrassment, he bluffed.

"Yeah, yeah sure, I just meant the little one, the Jap…"

"Are you kidding me? You claim you fucked Cornelia and never met Michiko? That’s impossible. They’re inseparable. Unless of course... No, it’s not possible…" And then he laughed in amazement… "So that’s what she did to you… wow!"

Ronald was on his feet now, he hurt all over but was getting angry. He grabbed Mitch’s jacket : "And just what did she do to me, your friend Cornelia?"

"She hypnotized you ! We all know she can do it, but to think she did it to you … wow!" And he stared at his friend in awe.

Ronald turned his back. "I’m getting out of here" he mumbled and fled.

The fair was packing up as Ronald picked his way between boxes and backpacks to the lumbering elevators.

Hypnotized.

He’d been hypnotized without his knowledge. That must be a federal offense, he thought, and had fantasies of profitable lawsuits. But deep down inside, he was frightened, very frightened. Was he actually in that crazy woman’s power?

Chapter Six

Fun and games for fit ladies

Waking or sleeping, Ronald could not get Cornelia out of his mind. Yet he felt very confused about his feelings towards that awesome woman: the thought of her inspired in him exactly as much fear as desire.

Occasionally, he tried to talk to Mitch about Cornelia, but though they had remained friends after the incident at the "Fair", Mitch avoided the subject.

Until one day he breezed into Ronald’s office with unexpected tidings : " Cornelia’s soirée is on Friday and you’re invited."

"Soirée?"

"That’s what she calls her parties; she gives one from time to time : very select, only her closest submissives are there, the ones who go all the way… like me!" There was something supercilious in his voice which annoyed Ronald. His expression must have shown how distasteful he found the proposal, because Mitch was already trying to change his mind : "You really ought to come, Ron, she likes you a lot, I think she might even… well lift her spell, ya know…"

"You still think she hypnotized me."

"Of course she did… She admitted it to me herself when I asked. Said you were a very susceptible subject!"

"That bitch! I’ll kill her!"

"Be careful, Ron, she’s a wonderful woman but she can be very dangerous… What she actually told me, was this : ‘If he declines my invitation, I will decide whether to bring him here against his will or… never see him again.’ Those were her very words… So you see? "

Mitch was on his way out the door but Ronald called him back. "Tell me something : were you really getting pleasure out of what that little Jap was doing to you that night? I mean, it looked like she was hurting you a lot, like real torture."

Mitch smiled in recollection. "It was a kind of torture all right. If she wanted to, Michiko could outdo the Gestapo with just her bare hands. It isn’t the pain itself that excites me, though with some it’s different. During the moment of pain; I’m not excited at all, I just hurt.. No, it’s, the anticipation, and above all it’s afterwards, the beautiful memory of it… It’s hard to explain. But just thinking about that night I get a hard-on, and whenever I see Michiko and remember what she can do to a man, her mysterious science…wow!" He turned again to leave: "Anyhow, let me know what you decide."

Ronald turned the dilemma over in his mind for a few hours. So she had really hypnotized him… Or else maybe she was just bluffing, like that voodoo stuff he’d seen on TV, it’s all suggestion, they say. He’d felt perfectly normal since that Musidora thing. OK, so maybe she did hypnotize him that one time, it would have worn off by now. But then again, maybe it was only when she looked at him or said something to him that she sort of reactivated the power… Christ, it was scary… That was the real reason he didn’t want to go to the party, just thinking about her being sort of desirable in a screwy way was OK, but to actually be in the same room with her?

Nonetheless, three hours later, he gave Mitch a call.

And three days later, wearing white tie and tuxedo (Cornelia liked formal dress on men), he entered for the second time that spacious apartment of which he had only the haziest memories but which somehow he knew had been the scene of a turning point in his life.

A rather plain-looking female domestic opened the door and took their coats. Keith Jarret was on the stereo and a joint was being passed around: just an ordinary party on the face of it. Reclining in an armchair, Michiko alias Lotus Blossom, was having her toenails painted black by one of three young men who were already there when Mitch and he arrived. She was wearing a judo kimono and tight calf-length pants crafted in red latex, although the black belt tied around her waist was regulation.

Cornelia was sitting on the sofa between the two other men. Ronald could not help noticing that all these "submissives" were much handsomer than he was… So what chance did he have?

The hostess was wearing "Western" attire, a long black leather wrap-around skirt which slit open as she sat to reveal low-cut black cowboy boots and smokey stockings. Above a wide belt, she wore an ample gray silk blouse with tan cowhand gloves rolled down over the palms.

Mitch had indicated they must wait by the door for their hostess to acknowledge their presence. Ronald stood there staring the length of the room at Cornelia, both hoping and fearing to catch her gaze. As he watched, one of the men on the couch put his arm around the broad, lovely shoulders ; the other laid a hand gingerly on the nylon knee. ‘("Watch this", whispered Mitch). Cornelia smiled at them by turns, then seized both their wrists in a single quick, graceful move and was already on her feet, turning as she rose, describing a wide sweeping circle with the captive arms, forcing the men to rise and then flinging them to the carpet in a heap, their arms inextricably locked. Without any visible effort, she held them both down by just one wrist, assuming a proud, dominant pose for their admiring eyes. She leaned her weight into the hold for a moment, causing them to shout with pain, aimed at each of their bulging groins a kick that turned into a caress at the last instant, then let them up. With ecstatic expressions on their faces, they remained on their knees and took turns kissing the wrist she graciously bared for them between silk cuff and glove.

But now Cornelia had seen Ronald and Mitch standing respectfully by the door and beckoned to them with her free hand.

As he came up to her, Mitch kneeled quite unselfconsciously and kissed the hem of the long leather skirt. Cornelia smiled at Ronald and appeared to be waiting for him to do likewise. Never! he shouted to himself. Cornelia’s smile widened as she put out her hand : "Shake, pardner."

Relieved to be off the hook, he reached out his hand. But the woman didn’t grasp it the way he’d expected, but closed her gloved fingers over the whole hand, imprisoning his thumb in her palm, then squeezed and bore down hard : the strength of her hand was frightening. Ronald shrieked and fell to his knees, so sharp was the pain. Next to him; Mitch was gloating.

"The next time you’ll know how to greet me, won’t you Ronald?"

"You’ll break my thumb!".

"Yes, I might just do that," she mused. "Now, how does a man pay homage to me, Ronald?"

And so with some difficulty Ronald leaned forward and kissed the hem of the long black leather skirt. But the lesson wasn’t over yet: Cornelia cupped her hand over the elbow of his captive arm, dug her thumb into the soft hollow and folded his arm against it. This caused fresh pain and the bone was pressed against her firm thumb and he caught himself whimpering. She pulled him forward and down, guiding his lips towards the tips of her boots, which he kissed obediently. "That’s better" came the deep dulcet tones… and he was free. He climbed uncertainly to his feet, nursing his aches and pains… Cornelia took his hand in hers and moved the injured digit gently.

"It’ll be fine in the morning, don’t worry," and she pointedly turned her back to talk with Mitch.

Ronald was surprised to find that nobody was laughing at him, in fact one of the men was smiling at him as if to say "Lucky you." He took a drink from a tray and sat down. The man came over and introduced himself.

"I’m Keith. Is this your first time?"

"Yep. And I guess it’ll be my last."

"Why’s that?"

"Well, I just don’t get my rocks off being thrown around by those… chicks the way you guys do. I’m no pervert…"

"Well, thanks for the perverts" said Keith, laughing.

Their attention was drawn to preparations being made in the center of the big room : the furniture was being pushed back, lamps were being put out of harm’s way. In order to thank her manicure-boy for his attentions, Michiko had to agreed square off with him for what everybody was happy to agree would be an unfair fight.. At her insistence, the man had stripped to briefs. He was a fine specimen, and was visibly aroused by the prospect of this delightfully one-sided clash. Nonetheless, he approached the little jiu-jitsu expert as warily as he knew how. And of course, he wasn’t wary enough. Nor was Michiko going to mess around with him : no sooner was he within her reach than she gave his testicles a wrenching grab and caught him under the jaw with a pincer grip, forcing him over backwards. He was off balance and helpless : the fight was over before it had begun. But Michiko hadn’t finished with the rash submissive : she exerted expert pressure under her victim’s jaw and his face went beet red before he collapsed in a dead faint. There was some applause while the Japanese woman knelt behind the fallen man, propped him up against her perfect little breasts and massaged his diaphragm until he came round. "Wow," he exclaimed as soon as he could talk, "she’s never knocked me out like that before; it was nirvana!" There was friendly laughter. Michiko patted his head and sat next to Cornelia, who proudly put her arm around her.

An hour later, Ronald was feeling more relaxed. The women had not given any more of those humiliating demonstrations and now that he had been able to talk to the submissives, he discovered they were pretty nice guys.

Suddenly Cornelia stood before him, gazing intently into his eyes. "Having a nice time," she asked in a low voice. He looked away, but she gripped his jaw, her steel fingers digging through his cheeks into tender gums, and forced him to meet her burning gaze. "You know now, don’t you… You know what I did to you that night?" He nodded. "Please don’t, please," he whispered. She laughed and released her controlling grip. "Don’t worry, it’s all in good fun, you’ll see…"

"Won’t you please take away the spell or whatever it is…"

She laughed again. "It’s not magic, you fool, it’s post-hypnotic suggestion. I’m going to let you live with it for awhile… It gives you another reason to be afraid of me, of what I could make you do, but you’ll learn to love that fear, I promise you." He winced as she put her hand to his cheek and stroked it. "You have a nice body… One day, I might fuck you again, and have some more of my fun with you… But I won’t do anything permanent to your mind if that’s what your worried about." She patted his burning cheek again and turned away. Roland was all churned up inside and took another drink

Michiko was cuddling up to her lover and whispering to her in Japanese. She’d smoked a bit too much grass perhaps and was clearly randy, trying to drag Cornelia off to bed (Mitch had already warned him that Cornelia was bi.) However just as they were about to make their exit, Cornelia suddenly changed her mind, turned back and said to the room at large : "No, I have a better idea! Let’s go have fun on the town!"

This proposal seemed to get everybody excited. Why, Ronald couldn’t begin to imagine. What was such a big deal about going to some club? Mitch refused to clarify the matter but promised him some genuine thrills if he wanted to tag along. Even Michiko seemed enthusiastic about this new plan to defer her lovemaking, and the two women disappeared to "get into something more comfortable" as Cornelia put it. She was obviously in high spirits.

Chapter Seven

Kinky Justice

The limousine belonged to Cal, one of Cornelia’s submissives. There was easily room for the six of them on the three rows of seats. From outside, the windows looked opaque, but when you were sitting inside, they were perfectly transparent.

Ronald couldn’t believe his eyes when they stopped near Silver Lake Park! What kind of a club could there be around here? Cornelia got out of the car the street side But when Ronald started to open his door, Mitch put a hand on his arm. "No, we’ll watch from here." Indeed, nobody got out with Cornelia and she simply walked around the car, crossed the sidewalk and stood with her back to a closed barber shop.

The street was lined with whores, and Cornelia, too, seemed dressed to turn tricks : tan PVC boots over the knees, brown net stockings, black leather hot pants and a short yellow silk jacket with green stars sewn on it. She was wearing fawn driving gloves with cut-out fingers and carried a big brown shoulder bag. Several Latinos and a Black stopped to inquire but she apparently found ways of discouraging them and they walked on.

Ronald saw two hookers a few yards down the street checking her out. One of them disappeared inside a Late Nite drugstore.

"What’s she waiting for, what’s it all about?" he wanted to know.

Mitch said : "She’s waiting for the pimps to show up, you’ll see…"

Now, however, a john appeared who was more persistent than the others. He even began pawing her breasts a little…

"Shit," said Michiko in one of her longest sentences of the evening, "He spoil our fun."

But Cornelia was not about to let this happen. Seeming to change her mind, she led the guy towards a nearby hotel entrance and through the door. They disappeared inside.

Michiko chuckled : "She fix him…"

And indeed, about three seconds later, the man burst out the doors and scurried away holding what could well have been a broken arm. Cornelia appeared in the doorway, smiled in our direction and took up her stand again..

At about which time a white Caddy drove up and three Latino pimps got out, wearing the usual flashy suits and pointed shoes.

"Michiko, hadn’t you better…?" said Mitch.

"Connie say three OK."

Ronald threw a glance at the pimps’ Cadillac but the smoked windows were impenetrable. Were there any more of them? he wondered.

The three Latinos strolled towards the intruder on their turf.. One was tall and wiry, the other two short and stocky.

Cornelia looked them over calmly and the occupants of the car were reassured by the confidence they read in her stance and gaze.

And they were right : Cornelia really was confident, because she intended to have first strike

The pimps had only gotten as far as politely suggesting that she take her trade to some other part of Los Angeles when she snap-kicked the tall one in what looked a little high to be his groin. Nonetheless, the hard tip of her knee-boot doubled him up and had him screaming pitifully.

Even while shooting off her kick, Cornelia, had clamped her hand over the nearest wrist and twisted it sharply. Paying no further attention to the man she’d kicked, now on his knees, vomiting and shouting pathetic abuse at her, she began one of those graceful circular moves Ronald had seen her perform earlier; and soon the second attacker’s arm was twisted up and around the wrong way ; she swung it like a baseball bat and her victim bumped into the third pimp, knocking him momentarily off balance. Concentrating on the arm in her grip, she locked the hold with her other hand and jerked upwards. The man was shrieking as she let him fall, holding his demolished shoulder. The other man had recovered his balance but lost precious seconds coming up with a switchblade. He pranced about threatening her, but seemed understandably reluctant to attack.

It was at this point that Michiko opened the door beside her. Unlike Cornelia, her Japanese partner wore black combat togs : tough lycra tights; a short leather jacket and basket ball boots. Ronald supposed she was going for the man with the knife until he saw that two more pimps had gotten out of the Cadillac, and that one of them had a gun.

This was Michiko’s target : she ran so silently that they could not hear her coming. And before they even saw her, she did the most amazing thing : she leapt into the air and caught the gunman around the throat with a kind of flying scissors hold. Her momentum threw the man to the ground, with the muscular little legs crushing his larynx. and the gun flew out of his hand.The trajectory of her attack had been so well-planned that the gunman’s fall had knocked his partner to his knees. He jumped to his feet and immediately made the mistake of trying to deliver what looked like a karate kick at the woman on the ground. She trapped his foot effortlessly in a sophisticated two-hand lock, flipped the man spectacularly off his feet and onto his face, lifted the captive leghigh and smashed his kneecap on the cement with a sickening noise, broke his ankle with a quick twist and finally, taking careful aim, she brought the flat of her fist down with terrifying force on the base of his spine. The man’s whole body jerked and then he just lay on his stomach twitching. Michiko had done all these things to him in the twinkling of an eye, without once ceasing to control the man on the ground with her legs locked around his throat. Now she leaned forward, seized her own lowermost ankle, levered a shapely black calf across his windpipe and squeezed.

The dazed silence inside the car was broken by Mitch’s whisper :"That’s it for those guys".

Ronald tore his eyes away from what seemed to be a spectacle of death and looked back in Cornelia’s direction. The knife-man still hadn’t made his move. Cornelia was beckoning to him wih a taunting smile. Ronald could understand he pimp’s hesitation, after what this dangerous woman had done to his partners. But he finally did muster his courage lunge.. and as everybody in the car expected, he quickly lost his knife.

Cornelia easily warded off the blow with the edge of one gloved hand which then closed over the knife-holding wrist while with her other palm she hit up under the elbow and then grabbed it in a certain way (with her thumb digging into the man’s funny-bone, she was to explain later). Whirling on the tips of her toes, she locked the man’s arm against her flat belly and pulled: there was a scream and the knife dropped with a clank.

Without letting go of the useless arm, Cornelia drove her booted knee into the man’s throat, snapping his head back brutally, then released her grip and let him collapse choking and gasping on the grimy sidewalk. As a parting shot, she raised one leg high, hugging it to her breasts for greater height - one tantalizing moment, Ronald saw the leather hot-pants stretched across her crotch and buttocks - then brought the round heel of her high boot down on the middle of the man’s exposed back. He collapsed and lay still.

She and Michiko fell ito each others arms joyfully and hurried back to the car. The motor was already running and Cal drove away fast.

"How do you like the way we turn our tricks?" she asked her admirers, visibly exalted after her exploit. "Did you catch all that Roy?" Only then did Ronald realize that one of the young men had been discreetly video-taping the whole thing.

Mitch whispered in Ronald’s ear : "There’s money in films like that. People buy them who are too chicken or too poor for Cornelia. It’s only a sideline with her, but she does just love the action."

"So does Michiko… But don’t they ever get hurt?"

"Yeah, once in a while… Michiko probably loves it a little too much. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wasted those two guys back there."

Cornelia overheard him and questioned Michiko in Japanese. The deadly doll responded in kind and Cornelia translated : "No, she didn’t kill them, but one will never walk again and the other has probably lost his powers of speech … Something to remember us by…"

Michiko piped up in her inimitable English : "Mitch, you see me do kenpo scissa’? Michiko never do in fight before, very good, very happy…" It was definitely her longest English statement of the evening.

Now it was Cal’s turn : "Mistress Cornelia, did you really kick that guy in the balls? It looked like you missed."

" I hit what I aimed for, dear : the pubic seam… It takes skill and a little luck, but it’s a lot more devastating than a kick in the balls. In fact, without pretty immediate surgery, he’s the gonner in that lot…"

There was a faint gasp from the submissives… and Ronald realized that he was beginning to count himself among their number. For the first time since he could remember, he was beginning to feel at ease with a group of people.

End of Chapter Seven

(I’m not sure where to go on from here. If anybody out there has any suggestions for the further adventures of these characters, I would be happy for inspiration.)