Dominique 3/1 by Helier

DOMINIQUE    part 3   by Helier    (FFF/FFF)

WARNING

This story contains scenes
which are clear descriptions of
relatively severe punishment.
Personally I don't find them
offensive but I'm willing to
believe that some people might.

Could I therefore recommend
that this story is only read
by adults who are entirely
convinced that they can
read such material with
equanimity.


This is the last part of the Dominique series.   I have loved
Dominique but I am not sad to see her story end.   It is harsher
than anything else I have written but I had to follow it through.
Many thanks to all those who have encouraged me with this story.
In some ways I think this story is almost too harsh and perhaps to
literary to be erotic.   I suppose I just prefer softer stories.  Helier


DOMINIQUE  part 3  by Helier

On the west side of Mid-Manhattan, hidden from view, there is a
tiny park.   It is public, in the sense that it is owned by the city, but
so completely surrounded by tall houses that, in practice, the
public has no way to enter it.    It is an odd creation, most of it
regulated by low walls that divide it into tiny private courtyards.  
Its rare charm lies perhaps in the unique opportunity it gives a
fortunate few to enjoy the cycle of seasons from the warmth of
their well-appointed mid-town homes.   Others who live in
Manhattan know of it largely from hearsay but, even though most
will almost certainly never see it, they find a certain comfort in its
existence.

In one of the tiny private gardens that make up the park Elli sat
nervously on a marble bench twisting the hem of her dress.    She
had come to see M. de R.V. and when she was asked by Giselle,
his attractive young secretary, to wait a few minutes, she asked to
be allowed to wait in the garden. 

It was quiet there.    She could hear birds and the city was not
much more than a distant rumble behind the protective wall of
elegant New York residences.    Perhaps she thought that some
fragment of this calm would quieten the pounding of her heart and
help her bring order to her disjointed thoughts.

Something was wrong with Dominique.   Perhaps in her heart Elli
knew that she should have come earlier to seek help by the one
person who might have some influence but on the other hand it
seemed like betrayal to be here at all.   She felt guilty and sneaky
as if she were cheating on her best friend.    She had thought she
could handle this problem as she had so many others.    She and
Dominique were natural partners - Dominique had chosen her for
that reason - but lately it seemed as though a demon had taken
possession of Dominique's mind.   Something was driving her in a
way that could only lead to her destruction.    And so many people
relied on Dominique.    Elli's fierce sense of loyalty to the young
woman she felt had been her saviour had made her hesitate to go
to M. de R.V. but lately she realised that such loyalty was
misguided.    It was Dominique who was now in need of saving
and it was up to Elli to use all the means she had to help.

Giselle disturbed her thoughts to lead her through the house and
into an upstairs sitting room.   It was simply furnished with
exquisite taste.   For some reason Elli had the feeling that most of
the furniture was inherited - it had the feeling of belonging - but
that most of the artworks were collected by M.de R.V.   Elli
followed the young secretary over the thick woollen carpet to an
oak-pannelled door.    Giselle, in spite of her youth, was elegant
and sure in these rich surroundings - seeing her made Elli feel old
and tired.    Her hair was shoulder length and a delicate autumn
gold.   Her finger moved restlessly in the air as she spoke and she
seemed to look at Elli with a slight wonderment as though she
were meeting for the first time some living legend.     Perhaps it
was like this for her, Elli thought bitterly;  if only she knew how little
Elli felt like the glamorous image that gossip magazines had made
of her.

Giselle knocked on the door and opened it.

"Mademoiselle Elli, Monsieur," she said and then turned to let Elli
past her.

For a brief moment their eyes met and she seemed to give Elli a
little smile of reassurance.    Elli took a deep breath and entered. 
She realised how strained and nervous she must look.   As she
passed Giselle their hands brushed together and Elli found a
whisper of comfort in the girl's touch.

M. de R.V. sat at an oak desk with a leather top.    There was the
faint scent of fine cigars and cognac in the room and Elli knew she
was being allowed into his dearest sanctuary.    He smiled when
he saw her and his deep kind eyes lingered on her face for what
seemed an age, drinking in her presence.

"Attends =E0 c=F4te, Giselle, si tu veux,"  he said.    Giselle was still
standing at the door and he indicated with a motion of his hand the
little ante-room where he wanted her to wait.   She smiled and left
with a last sensual glance at Elli.   The door closed quietly behind
her.    He gave Elli an enquiring look.

"She's ... lovely,"  Elli said, simply.

M. de R.V. nodded with a knowing smile that acknowledged both
the elegance of Elli's understatement and the inadequacy of
speech itself.   He was a strange man.    In a crowded room he
would smoothly dominate with an extravagant accommodation of
hearts and minds.   Here in his own room he was imbued with a
quiet that left her questioning whether it was of him or of herself
that she was most afraid.

"Elli," he said, a minor note of reproach playing in the music of his
voice.   "I am sorry you have taken so long to come."

She felt herself colouring at his words.

"I wanted to ask for your help," she mumbled, clumsily.

"Ah ..."

She had not been to see him even though she knew it had been
he that had enabled Dominique to draw her out of the nightmare of
her marriage.    She had not thanked him because the truth was
she had allowed herself to be angry with him for revealing her
shameful secrets to Dominique.   It was illogical and mean-spirited
of her and she knew it.    Her life had been turning upside-down at
the time and she had let him, who had unfailingly loved her,
become a casualty.    Only now, when once again she needed his
help, had she put her childish anger aside.  It was not noble and
she knew she had hurt him.

"You are late, ma ch=E8re."

She had let her eyes drop but now she raised them again in some
alarm.   From the tone in his voice she knew that it was not of her
recalcitrance that he spoke.   He was referring to Dominique.

"I can't understand what's happening to her."    She was speaking
in a rush.    "She seems obsessed.   Everything now is an attack
on Erica.    Everything.   She is driving the company into the
ground and all the time ... I don't know ... it seems as though Erica
knows and is always one step before.   It's making her crazy.   She
scarcely trusts anyone anymore - I think she even suspects me.   I
thought I could handle it.   I thought I could handle her but ..."

"Elli ... "  His voice cut across her anxious thoughts with a deep
sigh.   "You should have known.   Can a sailing ship turn the
wind?"

She became conscious that she was standing in front of him, her
fingers clenched in her full white dress.    He hadn't asked her to
sit down and, though now she felt conspicuous and awkward, she
knew she shouldn't ask to sit.

He looked at her sadly for a long moment.

"I would like you to be punished, Elli."

Her eyes widened and involuntarily she bit her bottom lip.   Her
insides seemed to turn to water but strangely all the churning of
her nerves stopped.   It was as though she had held some silent
secret hope that she would hear him say it.   Perhaps this was the
chance she needed to prove to him that she could be worthy of the
love and faith in her that he had always shown.   The sensual
thought of offering her body at his pleasure, triggered a pulse of
desire deep inside her that the fear of him fuelled.

"Turn around and face the wall.   You may lift your dress."

His voice was firmer but he didn't move.    She turned as she was
told, the secret thrill of submission knotting her belly and making
her feel almost sick with desire.   She wondered how he would do
it to her and with what.    She felt sure he would hurt her more than
Dominique had.    She felt her body shaking.   She hoped he
wouldn't see it but, as her fingers reached behind her to bury
themselves in the folds of her dress, she was sure he would see
how her hands trembled.

M. de R.V. watched in lush contentment as the bunching of Elli's
dress exposed first her thighs then the creamy silk and lace that
hugged the rounding of her buttocks.    To watch a beautiful
woman, of her own volition, bare herself to him for punishment
never failed to fill him with awe.     He had always loved Elli and
now his respect for her grew boundless as he felt her commitment
overcome her natural reserve.   He wanted her shame.    He
needed to hear her crying out with pain.   He desired her
humiliation and what delighted him was to see how much she
desired it too.    Seeing her like this, so close to him, seemed to
warm the blood in his tired veins.

"Giselle," he called softly.

He heard Elli's gasp.    He knew she had not anticipated the
embarrassment of the young girl seeing her like this.    He
wondered for a moment if she would cover herself but when the
door opened she kept her dress raised though she turned her face
away.    Giselle's eyes sought him out but from the flush in her
cheeks he knew she had taken in everything.

"Monsieur?" she murmured.

"Veux-tu me chercher la courroie?"

She glanced at Elli and withdrew but returned a few moments later
with the stiff leather strap he had requested.   She approached him
slowly and he knew from her eyes she was praying he would let
her stay in the room.   Giselle was relatively new in M. de R.V.'s
household.    For a while she had been in the Circle and had
known Dominique but she had never had the judgement to be
successful.    However her elegance and discretion were perfect
for M. de R.V. and she shared passionately his fascination with
beautiful women and with the sweetness of their pain.  

"Giselle," he said.  "Would you like to punish Elli?"

She felt as if his eyes were looking into her soul and all her
feelings were naked.   She wanted to throw herself at his feet, to
kiss his hands.    Several times he had let her stay in the room and
twice he had asked her to punish one of the younger maids with a
slipper.   

But to punish Elli ... her own fierce desire choked off her cry of
delight.

"If you would like me to," she said.   She kept her eyes lowered to
hide the fire in them even though she knew that it was transparent.

Behind her she heard Elli's tiny sob.    He had made her
humiliation so complete.   She did not need to bend or bare herself
- he did not need even to wield the strap - but her submission was
absolute and beautiful.    It was admiration for Elli that had drawn
Giselle into the Circle and her dignity now was filling the young girl
with awe.

M. de R.V. took the strap from Giselle's hands.

"Turn around," he said.

Giselle turned.   She knew what would follow but she was
consumed with Elli's long blond hair, the fine sweep of her back,
the loose silk of her panties, the warmth of her flesh.

"Lift your skirt a little."    His voice was so deep she felt as if it were
inside her.    She could feel the comfort of moisture between the
lips of her sex.   She was panting.   She lifted her skirt and waited
for him.   With a huge crack the shiny leather smacked across her
thighs.    She didn't permit herself to cry out but involuntarily she
jumped, throwing her hips forward.   She knew he would repeat it. 
She opened her legs a little so that, after a moment, when it came,
the flying leather stung the back of one thigh and then slapped
wickedly across the inside of the other.    The pain was
excruciating on her most sensitive flesh but still she did not let
herself cry.   Instead she twisted her legs and gripped the sides of
her skirt, gasping for breath.

"Look at me."

She turned to face him, her damp eyes clamped shut as she
absorbed the fierce burning in her thighs.    He pushed the strap
into her trembling hand.   

"Eight strokes, Giselle, and none is to be less than these."

She went round to the front of Elli and placed it on the table.   Elli's
eyes were already wet and a tear had trickled down her cheek.  
In spite of her smarting legs Giselle was captivated by her.    She
put a hand to the wetness of her cheeks and let it drift down to her
neck.   For a moment her fingers played in the flawless skin of
Elli's bare shoulders and then strayed over her breasts, lingering
to feel the ripe firmness of her.   She saw Elli's lips part and came
closer until she could feel the breathing on her own lips.   She
kissed her.   At first they kissed shyly but then, when Elli let the
folds of her dress fall to hold the girl in her hands, the kiss became
a storm.    After a time Elli drew back from her.

"Show me, " she whispered.

Giselle turned away from her and lifted her skirt up high.   Beneath
the crisp whiteness of her cotton knickers the red weals crossed
her skin like brandmarks.   Elli stretched out her hand to touch the
girl's hair then trailed her fingers down to feel the heat of her
blazing thighs.  

"Giselle," she murmured, inflamed.   "Do it now."

With a cry Giselle turned and grasped the strap.    She lifted Elli's
dress and pushed the folds into her hands.   She turned to M. de
R.V.

"May I do it ... bare?"

He smiled his aquiescence and her eyes seemed to close for a
moment with the sensual thrill of it.

""Elli," she breathed from close by.   "You will have your knickers
taken down and you will be thrashed.   Don't be afraid to cry out - I
will make you cry out."

Her fingers were already tugging at Elli's underwear that slid easily
to her knees.    She stepped back to look at the breath-taking
roundness of Elli.   Withdrawing the strap she gave Elli the full
richness of it across the middle of her bottom.    She drank in her
frightened gasp.

The shock of it was more than Elli had expected.   She realised
that Giselle loved her and she had expected to feel the heat of that
passion but Giselle was on fire.    Again the strap flashed down -
its creamy sting licking the tops of Elli's thighs.    She did not cry
out but against her will the tears began to roll down her cheeks. 
Her body seemed to receive the vicious whipping strokes almost
without movement.    She was like a living statue of submission
and only her constantly renewed and increased weeping gave
away the anguish she was feeling.

Inevitably though there came a moment when the pain broke the
vessel of Elli's impassive acceptance.    Giselle's sixth stroke was
a crack of lightning.   It swept in a wide arc, rising to blaze across
Elli's lower buttocks.   It was as though her whole world caved in
on her.    A long wail of dismay, wrung from deep inside her, filled
the little room and her body seemed to jerk awake as if she were
feeling the pain for the first time.   Involuntarily she turned back
with terrified eyes as if to appeal but Giselle was merciless.    The
seventh stroke was  identical to the sixth and Elli almost fell to her
knees in agony.   Her knickers slipped to her ankles as her
desperate body squirmed and twisted in pain.   She was crying
now in great shuddering gasps and it seemed as though all her
resistance was gone.   She covered her bottom with her dress and
stood half-bent forward, shivering and sobbing.

"Stop it, Elli."    Giselle spoke so softly to her, so hypnotically;  it
was as though she were lulling a child to sleep.   "You know you
are to be punished and I want to, Elli, so much.    I'm going to hurt
you now.    There is only one more but I promise it will hurt more
than all the others.   You know that, don't you?"

Sobbing, Elli turned to her and nodded.    She was so afraid now
she could scarcely think.    Reluctantly she lifted her dress.

"Higher, Elli."

She cried harder but lifted it again until all her lower back was
uncovered.

"Now bend over, my darling.    Right over.    And stay until I tell
you you may get up."

Elli obeyed her now as if she had obeyed her all her life.   She
bent over touching the floor with her fingertips.    Giselle lined the
strap across her flesh just at the crease between her bottom and
her thighs.    She could see how the mound of Elli's vulva
protruded a little and would inevitably take part of the stroke but
she didn't care.   She wanted to give Elli pain and she wanted to
comfort her and she knew that, beneath her terror, this was how
Elli wanted it.  
She raised the strap and felt the trembling woman stiffen.   

She paused and with her free hand delicately traced the red
stripes that now marked Elli's flesh.   She let her fingers drift
between the round cheeks to the plumpness of her sex.  Softly she
stroked it, feeling the wetness and bathing her finger in the
slippery moisture.    Elli moaned as the warm breath of desire
infused her body.   She felt Giselle probing gently down to her
clittoris and pushing her fingers between the warm folds of flesh.  
In a moment she was so consumed with the reels of pleasure
curling like smoke through her body that she didn't notice when
imperceptibly Giselle's finger slipped away.

With a resounding crack the strap ripped across her thighs,
scalding her sex, so ripe and wet with arousal, and drowning all
her world in a cascade of fire.   She sank to her knees, lost in a
scream, her hands clawing the air as she fought to come to terms
with the rush of pain.   Then she clasped her bottom and howled
helplessly like a child.   

For a moment Giselle watched, feeling the blood pounding through
her veins and trembling with the power of her emotions. 
Suddenly she could bear it no more.  Tears rushed down her cheeks
and with a moan she dropped to the floor, tearing open her shirt
and gathering Elli into her arms.    Wailing and writhing in agony
Elli clung to her tormentress as though she were all the hope
in the world.   Giselle's lips kissing her, Giselle's hands cupping
her buttocks and stroking the pain from her scarlet thighs, Giselle's
soft breasts cushioning her face.   And now in the burning
landscape of her sex this girl's fingers were busy again, changing
her, drawing out pleasure through her forest of pain;  lifting her
shaking body to bathe it in the clear waters of desire.    Elli gave
herself to Giselle utterly and all thought scattered itself to the four
winds.   She was exhausted and could resist nothing.    Her climax,
when it came, twisted her like a vine tossed in a great storm.  
She cried out her own name  'Elli ... Elli'  as though she were
terrified she would lose her mind in the wildness of the moment.  
Then she began to calm.

M. de R.V. watched until they were quiet then he reached out his
hand and softly stroked Giselle's head.    She had done what he
had wanted her to do - everything and more.   She lay back
against his knee, Elli still clutched in her lap.    His voice embraced
them both like a warm evening.

"Take her upstairs, Giselle.   Stay with her this afternoon.   We will
speak further at dinner ...   I have loved you, Elli:   I will always
love you but you have let your pride bring danger to those you love.
I am happy you have come to me."

Elli wept - but not from the pain anymore.   He continued:

"Since your call I have made ... enquiries."

"Can you help her?"    Elli's voice was choked with tears.

"Yes.   However ... "

She looked up, startled by the tone of his voice.

"It is not necessarily Dominique who most needs help."

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