Leather & Lace, Co.

Leather & Lace – Book 1

Chapter 20 – The Contest

By The White Knight

I could barely believe that it was real as we walked into the Jacob Javits center in New York. The huge conference center was decked out like a Louisiana nightclub during Marti Gra, with feathered boas and string beads dangling from the metal rafters. Posters spotted the walls depicting the 2004 Bondage Convention and Contest and all of the thirty previous conventions. Pictures of premier bondage models that had found their first big break at these conventions were perched on pedestals about the lobby complete with their biographies and a concise listing of their most famous works. To me it was beautifully exciting, but at the same time had that surreal feeling that somehow I didn't belong here.

A large sign guided all contestants to the 4 ^th Floor Terrace Room AB for their formal sign in. I wrapped my arm around Greg's and held him close to me. After all of my fighting, conniving and training to get here I could not understand why all of a sudden I felt scared. Holding on tightly to my man's arm seemed to pass some of his steely confidence down into my quivering innards. My stomach flip-flopped as we walked into the Terrace. The large oblong room was milling with other contestants and their masters and now I really felt out of place.

Greg and I were wearing comfortable Town and Country like clothing. For me this meant a soft print sundress and low-heeled sandals, while Greg sported a camel colored blazer and dark slacks. I had felt perfectly in place as we had walked through the lobby of the Dumont Plaza among the patrons of that well-heeled establishment, but this was totally the opposite.

Women with piercings and boob jobs that could only have been created by Doctor Lovelace walked about in costumes that were put together more to show off their bodies then clothe them. Leather and spandex seemed to be everywhere, yet as long as the outfit was skimpy the material didn't seem to matter. In just the first few minutes I counted nearly half-a-dozen women that I was ninety-nine percent certain wore no underwear what so ever. The men were as garish is their mates, many wearing dark leather biker type clothing and sporting numerous tattoos on most of the flesh that was left showing.

While my mind whirled Greg guided me over to the entrants sign up booth and left me in line as someone he knew caught his eye. It was almost a shock when his arm left mine and I bit my lip and strained to keep sight of him as he walked across the crowed room. I could barely see him as I was jolted from my thoughts by a woman's voice behind me.

'You best move forward honey', the voice said in a nasally southern accent, 'I think the natives behind us are restless.'

Realizing that I hadn't moved forward with the line, I closed the gap quickly and then looked back, with a bit of trepidation to see who was talking to me. What I saw shocked and at the same time pleased me. The lady was smiling brightly at me and just like her voice she sported a very down to earth outfit of a button down silk shirt and form fitting light blue pants that nearly covered her natural leather thong sandals. I took her to be about five years older than myself, with just a hint of well-hidden crow's feet at the corner of her eyes giving lie to her youngish face. Her curly brunette locks framed her angular features giving them a softer look than they might have had with a more stern cut.

She held out her hand and added, 'Hi, I'm Karen Moraine and since that young man that left your side was undoubtedly Greg Stanton that would make you Sharon Glasser, correct?'

'Why, yes, but how did you know?' I replied aghast.

'Its simple honey', she said in her soft drawl as she took my arm to turn me around and keep us both moving with the line. 'My hubby, who is the gentlemen that Greg took off after, is an old friend of your boyfriend. They knew each other back in their boyhood days and have kept in touch ever since.' She gave me a long warm smile and continued, 'I was beginning to despair for the boy that he was never going to find his Aphrodite, but then all of a sudden his e-mails started talking about this wonderfully fresh young lady that had sent his heart all a flutter.' I blushed and looked away, but I couldn't help but be happy that Greg had told some of his oldest friends about our relationship. 'From his description you must be Sharon, as I truly doubt that there is another girl-next-door innocent looking goddess about this crazy place.' I blushed even deeper and felt tears of happiness in the corners of my eyes. 'Yes, that is a direct quote', she said as if in answer to the question that she knew that I wanted to ask. 'Now the last I heard you two were living together, but then we both seemed to lose touch, so how is it going?'

'It's better than my wildest dreams' I gushed. 'He is a wonderful friend, an incredible lover and the most perfect…'

I stopped talking in mid-stream as I realized what I was about to say, but Karen filled the gap for me. '… and the most perfect Master?' she said with a knowing smile.

'Yes', I answered relieved. 'It's funny but it still takes some getting used to, to admit that I am someone's slave… even here in a place where I suppose all of use are someone or others slave.'

'Don't you fret darling', she said easily, 'you'll get used to it. Heck, I've been my Tom's slave for nearly thirteen years. That's not to say that he wasn't tying me up and such well before that, but he didn't spring the whole package on me until after we were married.' I guess I looked a bit shocked because she carried on her explanation. 'You have to understand darlin' that that was a different era and what we were doing at the time was barely on the fringe of normality. It isn't like today where anything goes between two consenting adults.'

'But you don't even look thirty…' I said in exasperation as numbers started to come together in my mind and I realized that she must be at least in her mid-thirties.

'Thank God for modern medicine and my ten year anniversary present! A tummy tuck removed all evidence of the kids and the breast implants added two full cup sizes! I must admit that I'm a bit hung up about my looks and my dear Master was more than happy to grant my request.'

'But your face..'

'Good genes, darlin', good genes' then in a lower voice 'and of course the proper use of makeup. That Revlon Age Defying foundation is a life saver!' She gave me a long look from toes to hair and than back again. 'Enough about me now, what's been happening with you? I thought that Greg painted you out to be new to this world and yet here you are obviously ready to participate in our little contest.'

'Oh, I'm about as new as new can get and that's the truth. Greg and I were only going out for about a month before we moved in together and shortly after that I convinced him that we should enter the contest as Leather and Laces representatives. I've just finished a grueling six weeks of what I can only call bondage boot camp to get to the point where I am pretty sure that I won't embarrass him.'

'Six weeks…' now it was her turn to look at me aghast. 'Honey, you must be something else if Greg thinks highly enough of you to bring you here after only six weeks of training. Heck, Tom and I have been practicing on and off for the last six months, although that was mostly because we missed last year. The kids all had the flu you see and we just couldn't leave them.' She shook her head a bit as if throwing off some concern. 'Wow… six weeks. OK, so what part of your training did you find the most difficult?'

'Stiletto heels', I replied without even thinking, 'especially six inch pumps! Do you know how hard it is to walk properly in them?'

Karen threw back her head and gave a deep belly laugh, 'Darlin' my Tom's first fetish gift to me was a pair of heels nearly that high… hmm, I think I was nineteen at the time. So you might say that I have just a bit of experience wearing stiletto pumps!'

I laughed with her and then it was my turn to fill in the form that would admit me as a contestant into the bondage contest. At first I stared at the paper blankly as the enormity of what I was about to do hit me. I was going to be putting myself completely at others mercy throughout this whole ordeal, in front of thousands and thousands of strangers. Shaking my head to clear it, I filled in the form by rote until I reached the last page. It was a disclaimer sheet absolving both the convention center and the promoters of any liability if I received any injuries from the competition. I bit my lip and signed at the X as my mind asked over and over again if I really knew what I was doing.

Karen was next and she went through the process quickly. She smiled at me as she took my arm and steered me over to where our men were talking. Now that my eyes were open a bit, I could see that there were a few other couples clothed in a more normal fashion, but the ornate costumes of the many had caused me to pass them over. Tom was dressed similar to Greg, though his blazer was of a darker color with patches on the elbows. He was rather lean, though his turtleneck shirt couldn't hide the small paunch that was forming at his middle.

'Karen, great to see you', Greg beamed as he hugged her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. 'I see you met Sharon', he said as he took my hand in his. 'Tom, I would like you to meet Sharon Glasser my lover, also know as baby my most perfect submissive.'

'It's nice to finally meet you Sharon although Greg's description hardly did you justice', Tom said as he took my right hand in his and bent over to kiss it like some courtier of old.

Karen started to cough behind me, 'Oh my Lord I think that I'm going to be taken ill. I think it's that ripe smell of manure in the air that's affecting me so.' Greg laughed first and I couldn't help but follow.

'That will be enough of that red', Tom said in a mock harsh voice.

'Why, yes of course it is Master', she said diffidently as she waved her hand like a fan in front of her nose. 'You have to watch out for my Tom, he'll charm the pants off of you if you let him.'

'I'm outraged', Tom retorted with a smile on his face that said otherwise. 'And just which event in the past dozen plus years of marriage would ever cause you to doubt my absolute fidelity!'

'Oh, honey, I have no doubt in my mind that you'll leave with the girl you bought, but those eyes of yours are a whole 'nother story!'

His pained look left his face in a heartbeat as he turned to Greg and spoke as if nothing unusual had passed between them, 'You know red does have a point there.'

Greg laughed and clapped his friend on the back. I turned to Karen, looked at her shapely brunette hair, and asked, 'Red?'

'When I was younger I used to die my hair auburn. Unfortunately, sometimes it turned out a bit more red than I had anticipated… so my lord and Master decided that red was an appropriate slave name for me.' She shrugged her shoulders in acceptance.

'A bit more red', Tom said loudly, 'Ronald McDonald would have been proud to wear you hair color a few of those times!'

Greg began laughing again and Karen folded her arms and frowned. 'Now, now you too be nice', Greg said easily. 'Sharon I've never met two people more perfect for each other and despite their banter they love each other as if there isn't another person in the world that could make either of them happy.' He clapped Tom on one shoulder, 'Now enough of all this, lets finish up the introductions so that we can all have a nice dinner before we have to face the competition tomorrow.'

'I do have one more question', I said earnestly, 'how did you and Tom ever met? I mean Karen said you were childhood friends, but you're not exactly the same age?'

Greg laughed and shook his head. 'You have to understand that Tom was like the Fonz in our town. No, he didn't wear a leather jacket or ride a motorcycle, but everyone knew Tom. He was also the resident DJ at a local Dinner that his genius turned into the coolest place in town. New songs, old songs, it didn't matter Tom knew it and if he didn't have it he knew where to get it. Heck, even though he was gone by the time I hit my teens his legend lived on. So when I got into making bondage movies I called on Tom.'

'You see Sharon, Tom here is a musical genius. Every movie that I have ever made he has been the one to put in the background music and let me tell you the way that he does it makes the action three times as good as when I shot it.' He looked away from his friend and back to me, 'I'm sure that you remember how I used 'Bad to the Bone' in one of our sessions…' I blushed bright red as I nodded my head while I remembered him whipping my cunt till I came in time with that rocking tune. '…Well that song was one of Tom's best additions and helped me build my very considerable portfolio.'

Tom took a bow and pretended to wave to his adoring fans as he said, 'Thank you, thank you very much.' He laughed at this own poor imitation of Elvis and continued, 'enough about that, what are you doing now that your out of the industry.'

'You know how my dad has always been after me to get into the family business?' Greg asked and both Tom and Karen nodded yes. 'Well, he finally found a way to make the offer irresistible.'

'My God', Tom said aghast. 'How did he do that? You were always so adamant that you wouldn't just be handed the keys to the kingdom and that you were going to make it on your own.'

'Two things happened to make me change my mind', he said easily. 'First off, Dad joined his company to Leather and Lace in all but name only as he made a deal to be their supplier of choice. That allowed me to accept a job at Leather and Lace so that I could learn the business and at the same time offer my own expertise to help advance its interests.' He put his arm around me and hugged me close. 'But it was the second thing that sold me hook line and sinker.'

'Sharon' Tom said to me, 'don't tell me that you had something to do with this.'

Still blushing I smiled at Greg and replied, I guess I did have a small part to play in this drama. You see I started working at L&L about four months before I met Greg's father. 'During some discussions with both Mr. Stanton and Mr. Thatcher I made it known that I didn't have a boyfriend at the time and they were kind enough to set up a blind date with Greg for me.'

'If that isn't the most vanilla version that I have ever heard of our meeting, I don't know what is', Greg said with a laugh. 'What baby neglected to tell you was that those discussions happened with my father and Mike Thatcher while she was being used as a newbie bondage model to settle a bet between the two!' I was turning three shades of red, but Karen and Tom didn't seem at all shocked as they smiled at Greg's story. 'Also, when she said blind date she wasn't kidding. Dad knew that he had really blown it the last time he had tried to set me up…'

'Oh, yeah, the stalker girlfriend', Tom said knowingly.

'Right, so Dad had Sharon blindfolded and bound when I met her.' He shook his head before he went on. 'I was all set to turn down anyone that my father was trying to fob off on me but… well, to make a long story short… that's what made the job offer totally irresistible.' My face was red but I was smiling all the same as I basked in his warm hug.

Karen slid her arm into the crook of mine and pried me away from my man. 'Now that the formalities are out of the way, us girls have a lot to talk about, so why don't you boys find us somewhere nice to eat.' She waggled one finger at the two men before she continued, 'Nothing heavy though or we are not going to be able to fit into our corsets tomorrow!'

The rest of the evening seemed to pass in the blink of an eye as Karen and Tom proved to be wonderful conversationalists. Karen was true to her word and we talked quite a bit about being a submissive in a relationship. She started to open my eyes up to things that the little old lady at the hardware store had started me thinking about, but there simply wasn't enough time to explore all of the avenues that appeared. What mattered to me the most was that they were another couple like Greg's dad and Cassy or Mike and Samantha Thatcher that had chosen the same sort of lives that we were choosing and continued to enjoy it and each other many years later. It was a wonderful thought on which to fall asleep.

I woke up the next day well rested yet feeling strangely disconcerted. It was as if I had a bad head cold and was getting ready to go to work, regardless of the ailment. My brain seemed to be in neutral but my body just kept to its routine. I packed the outfits that had been laid out the day before for today's competition, while Greg checked and double-checked his schedule and his bag of tricks. He was very quiet and that also added to the unreality of the situation, as he was generally very gregarious in the mornings.

Walking into the Jacob Javits center that morning was a totally different experience than yesterday. Early conventioneers mingled around the large vestibule pointing out one contestant or another as they whispered and took pictures. The zippered suit bag slung over my shoulder and Greg's ditty bag must have tipped off these early risers as they descended upon us taking pictures, asking me questions 'like are you new to this?' and begging for autographs. I signed their scrap books 'Hope you have a wild time!… baby' which Greg told me to write quietly in my ear. After about a dozen of these and the flashes nearly blinding me, increasing my disorientation until I wasn't really sure what I was doing here. I became an automan, doing as Greg told me and posing and smiling as required.

A tug on my arm set me back in motion and I found myself led past a guarded red rope gate and drawn into the warrens of cube like dressing room's set up for the contestants. Greg pushed aside the curtain entrance that was adorned with a large number twenty-two. Inside of the dressing room was a totally barren, with the exception of the left and back wall supporting shelf like desks that ran the length of each wall. A couple of metal folding chairs leaned against the wall to the right. A breeze from overhead caused me to look upward towards the white painted metal rafters far above.

Greg went to work quickly and set up both the chairs and then pulled out a laptop computer, while I hung up my suit bag. While the computer was booting he turned back to his ditty bag and pulled out my circular magnifying mirror, followed by my cosmetics case. These he placed in front of the folding chair on the sidewall table. Without even thinking I stripped off my capri's, sleeveless top and sandals before I slid into my white terry cloth robe and matching isotoner slippers. I began applying my makeup in an automatic an unthinking way just as we had rehearsed over and over again.

Rolled black seamed stockings, textured in a rose pattern, were put into my hands one at a time and I slid them up my legs. Greg held open a pair of black lace crotch-less panties for me to step into as soon as that was completed and then came the corset. It was loosely laced, so snapping shut the busk went easily. I stood there holding up the loose red and black material while he took control of the laces. Those long smooth pulls of his had become so normal as to hardly be noticeable, even as the heavy satin began to mold body to its will. Breathing in deeply I aided his last few adjustments and then breathed out, when he patted me on my back to signal that my laces were tied off. I went through the process of reseating my breasts that were crunched tightly together in their demi-cups. Once I was sure that my nipples were over the red satin lip, but hidden behind the black lace fringe I moved on to my next task.

The six inch spiked heel pumps were laid out in front of me so I lifted one leg for Greg to remove my slipper. I shimmied my toes down the arched sole and into the tight toe box while he held the shoe so that it wouldn't slip. My heel slid easily into place and I put all my weight on this foot as I went to work on the second.

'Fifteen minutes… All contestants are to report to back stage in fifteen minutes', the tinny sounding loud speakers announced.

Greg glanced at his watch and smiled, 'Right on time' and then handed me my collar. I starred at it for a minute, unseeingly, until my training released my eyes and let me secure it about my neck. It felt smooth and comfortable about my throat and my enlarged reflection in the mirror clearly showed my name written in lower case script letters on either side, 'baby'. My mind was in a state of total fugue and despite it feeling somehow right for me to be wearing the soft red leather collar, another part of me cried out who is that in the mirror?

I looked down to see Greg circle my waist with a tape measure, 'Just a hair over seventeen inches. That's perfect, nearly a full inch more than the four required.' He began humming happily to himself as he began to tie my wrists together. The rope felt just like I knew it would through the black satin gloves that covered my arms to just above the elbow. Another tie followed on the soft flesh of my arms above my gloves. I winced as the cords wrenched at my shoulder blades.

It was like some crazy out of control dream. You know the type where you are worried that you haven't studied for some test back in college and you are forced by the dream to just follow along and go with the flow. Here I was barely dressed in a bizarre corset and black textured stockings as I was swiftly becoming more and more helpless. The crotch rope bought me a bit back to reality, as Greg slid the twin cords of white nylon between my lips and then tied them off to the bindings at my wrists.

I finally thought to frame a question to Greg, but as my mouth opened in popped a ball. 'Good timing honey', Greg said as he put one hand behind my head, 'now just open a little wider and I'll push this bad boy home.' Without thinking I complied and the two-inch bright red ball slid between the darker ruby red of my painted lips. My last chance to question going forward with this craziness faded into inconsequentiality as just like in a run away dream my dazed mind decided to just go with the flow.

Greg attached a four-foot leash to the metallic D ring centered below my throat and picked up a few more items as I watched in mute fascination. I was on an out of control roller coaster and all I could do was follow as Greg opened the curtain and led me out into the passageway. We weren't the only couple in the aisle and we soon entered the cue that was filtering its way to the back entrance to the stage.

Behind the curtain it was sheer mayhem as other slaves and masters fought against the grinding down minutes to complete their preparations. The sound of many voices talking filled the air as the crowd's presence began to intrude on my dazed state of dream fugue. I felt Greg attaching the small circlets with the number 22 stamped on it, to first the garter over the front of my right thigh and then one of its mates that fell over the rear of my left cheek. We had done this so many times that I need not look to see what was happening, and despite my addled mind I noticed Karen blinking her eyes at me. So she was stuck in my dream also, that's good I thought at least I have a friend a long. I blinked back at her and nodded my head in recognition.

The drone of the MC's voice had been going on now for a while and the curtain began to part. 'This little angel is Angela, direct from LA and brought to us by her Master Tim. Angela's stats boast a large 40D chest, a narrow 26 inch waist and healthy 38 inch hips. As you can see…' The monologue and the roar of the crowd faded as I escaped into my own mind. Closing my eyes I let myself slide into a near Zen state as I let the dream wash over me. It was just another anxiety dream about the contest, so why should I worry?

I had been having these types of dreams for at least the last month, always with the main theme that I wasn't prepared. All of those dreams ended in disasters that left me in a cold sweat as I woke in the middle of the night. Things like I didn't remember to open my legs when Greg passed through the crotch rope or I pushed the ball gag out of my mouth, causing us to lose the competition and more importantly me to embarrass my Master. In the worst of the dreams I would fall off my heels right in the middle of the first event. Lord how I hated that one…

A tug on my leash caused me to open my eyes, only to find total darkness. Ah, but this always happened in my dreams, it was just because I was blindfolded now. I relaxed and waited for the dream to continue until it ended in another of its disastrous consequences.

'Baby, I've given your leash to one of the attendants. Your next in line, so they will be guiding you out onto the runway. Remember everything that we did in training and I promise that you will do fine!' Greg's removed his hand as I felt my leash tugged again and I started walking in the direction indicted. Lucinda always took my leash in training as she forced me to walk like a lady, despite the stiletto heels and blindfold.

'This contestant is Sharon right here from her hometown of NY, NY. Sharon and her Master Greg both work for the lingerie and erotic products company Leather & Lace and they are here representing their firm. This is the first time that we have ever had a couple do this so lets give a big hand for the little lady', the MC announce and the crowd roared.

The crowd roared? When had there ever been any noise in my dreams? My mind was awhirl… I, Sharon, shouldn't be standing here in front of thousands of people bound and helplessly on display. That didn't make any sense. The quick jerk on the leash straight downward caused me to stop where I stood. As I had been trained, I moved my feet just a bit to one side or the other as I centered myself.

My musings continued as the MC droned on about the size of my breasts, the waspishness of my waist and my tender age. I couldn't help thinking that Lucinda was much better at this than my dream moderator. She used that crop of her to point out all of my best attributes while this ones free hand was mauling me like I was some blow up toy. Just another little quirk of my out of control nightmare…

The stinging blow of the paddle landed just below my ass cheeks and at the top of my thighs. It was at that point that the dream exploded and reality flooded in. My mind searched for the last thing that had been said, and I realized the MC had asked the crowd if such a new blood such as me deserved the paddle. The overwhelming cheering of approval was what left me on the edge of falling over onto my face. But, this wasn't a dream anymore and I could once again control my fate. The thought I am baby, Greg's slave and this is where I belonged, making him proud of me flowed through my mind. Now all I had to do was to fall back onto my training and everything would work out.

Greg had told me the MC would hit me just where he had in an attempt to knock me off my heels, so we had practiced this single moment many times. During one of those training sessions I used all I had learned during my years of ballet and raised myself out of my heels to stand on my toes, regaining my balance and hanging there for a good thirty count before lowering myself back into my pumps. Lucinda jumped on this immediately and Greg agreed that if I could do this again that we had to put it into our routine. So, I did it again… and again… and again… and again, till it became a part of me. I still remember the end of that first session while Lucinda shook her head in wonder and Greg removed my bindings he had told me, 'baby, you are the best submissive a Master could ever ask for!'

I could not see from behind my blindfold, but I could hear that the audience had gone quiet as I balanced on my toes. The hit had been perfect and I had seemingly let it blow me out of my heels, and now it was up to me. I leaned a bit forward and pulled back on my arms so that the crotch rope dug deep into my pussy. The bite of the rope steadied me and with a slight fanning of my fingers I reached total equilibrium.

I pictured myself standing on tip toe in my six inch stiletto's, knees slightly bent, body arching a bit forward and my arms thrown back as stiff as steel beams pulling desperately at the rope splitting my pussy to get just that little bit more balance. The pulsing pain in my thighs was one I had come to know well and I'm sure meant that my creamy mocha tanned skin was now a vibrant shade of crimson. I could hear the heavy bells hanging from my nipples pealing brightly in the silence as I imagined them swinging beneath my out thrust chest.

One thousand, two thousand, three thousand, four… I began the count in my head. At fifteen my feet started to feel the stress, but I pushed the thought away from me. The MC became uneasy with the dead space in his program and decided to fill it in, 'My God, ladies and gentlemen this is amazing. I don't know if she is going to fall flat on her face or balance like this forever! Looking at the concentration on her face I don't think she knows for sure which way it's going to go either!' He paused for a second as I hit thirty. My arches were really beginning to feel like they were on fire and this was normally when I would lower myself back into my heels. 'Let's help the little lady out with a cheer', the announcer continued, 'Sharon… Sharon… Sharon… Sharon…' It started out as a low murmur running through the audience, but in only seconds it became a full blown gale like the home team being cheered on by their fans. Biting down hard on the ball in my mouth I kept my count going until I hit forty-five and then ever so slowly, I lowered myself back into my heels, straightening my knees and my body as I let my tired arms dropped to rest against my back.

'That was the most incredible thing that I have ever seen!' The MC said in awe. 'And ladies and gents that's saying a lot for someone like me that's been doing this for twenty years! You are one very lucky and very talented lady. Once again ladies and gentlemen, Sharon, from Leather and Lace, Incorporated!'

I knew that this was my cue to turn and leave as one of the attendants took charge of my leash, but I couldn't help myself. 'iiii 'ame ess aaabbbyyy!' I yelled into my gag.

'What's that?' The MC asked as I felt him pushing the foam covered mike against my lips.

'iiii 'ame ess aaabbbyyy!' I yelled again through the mouth filling rubber ball.

Then I heard Greg yell from a distance, 'she says that her name is baby, her slave name'.

The MC paused for a minute and repeated what Greg had said to the crowd. 'Well folks anyone that can do what this lovely young lady just did can be called anything she wants as far as I'm concerned. What do you think?'

Slowly the rumbling of the crowd subsided into a low chant. 'Baby… baby… baby… it got louder and louder until the entire auditorium was filled with my name ringing about its walls. I smiled behind my gag in satisfaction as I turned on my heels to leave. I gave them my best Mae West bump and grind imitation as I followed my tether behind the curtain.

That's right I'm my Master's slave baby and you had best learn that name, because I'm going to win this contest!

I could feel Greg's arms about me as he hugged me and told me over an over again how proud he was of me. Even the pain of the nipple clamps as they were removed couldn't penetrate my happiness. The blindfold came next and he was working on the gag when the crowd beyond the curtain simply exploded in pandemonium.

The information flowed towards us like a wave towards the shore as people began to call from one to the next the news. Someone leaned over and yelled into Greg's ear, but I couldn't hear what was said over the volume of noise. The next thing I knew Greg was hugging me again and people I didn't know were pounding us both on the back. I moaned though the gag as the hearty thumps became painful given how tightly my arms were bound. Greg immediately surmised my predicament and put his arm protectively around me as he began to hurry me out of the sea of contestants and Masters.

It wasn't until we were back in our dressing room that he had time to pull out the huge ball so that I could ask what had just happened. Greg smiled and began to untie my arms as he answered cryptically, 'Something that hasn't happened in fifteen years.'

'Hmmm, that feels good', I moaned as my elbow binding was released. 'OK, I'll bite. What happened fifteen years ago?'

'Anita Ekberg scored a perfect ten during the runway event', Greg said as he began to whistle tunelessly.

I sat down and kicked off my heels, luxuriating in rubbing my aching arches. Greg moved his seat across from mine and began to massage my feet for me. Now, I was in total heaven. 'So who scored the ten?' I asked as the relaxation swept through my body.

'You did', Greg said softly.

My eyes popped open and I said excitedly, 'I did?'

'That's right baby, you did', Greg said with a grin of smug satisfaction. 'The first person to do it in fifteen years and the first newcomer to EVER do it!!!' We were in each other's arms again even before a conscious thought could cross through my head.

'Knock, Knock', someone said loudly from the other side of the curtain. 'Will you just kiss her already so that we can come in' said Tom's distinctive voice. Greg swept the curtain away and the couple walked in. Tom walked over and shook Greg's hand and Karen embraced me like a long lost sister.

'That was just incredible honey', Karen said excitedly, 'my goodness when you were standing on your toes balancing in mid-air it seemed like you were going to stay there forever!'

Tom looked over at me and chimed in, 'She looked like a statue! Totally motionless… it was just incredible!'

I started to minimize it but Greg cut in before I could give away any of our secrets and agreed with the two that 'his baby was simply amazing'. I basked in his praise even as I took his warning to heart. Even best friends don't have to know everything that happens between a Master and his submissive.

'Pardon my manners', I said to change the subject, 'but I should have asked how you fared on the runway Karen.'

Tom put his arm around her shoulders and answered, 'A solid eight point eight, which I might add is her best score in the four years that we have competed.' His pride was as easy to see as Greg's and I could see Karen glow.

'It was nothing', Karen said, 'he didn't even paddle me!'

'Oh, no, he didn't paddle you. He just pulled on your nipple clamps until he had you bent forward so far I thought that your forehead was going to touch the floor!'

'Now, don't be exaggerating Thomas Moraine!' Karen admonished him with a wagging finger. 'I was never bent at more than at a ninety degree angle!' She reached up and rubbed her breasts, 'Although it did feel like he was going to pull my little peaches right off my chest!'

'And they are the most lovely peaches that I have ever seen', said her husband in a mock gallant tone.

'Why thank you sir', Karen replied as she really laid on her southern accent. 'And from a man who ogles as many breasts as you do sir that is high praise indeed!'

'Quite so, quite so', Tom agreed without even seeming to mind his wife's attack on his roving eyes. He turned to me before continuing, 'regardless of that, you my dear are now the lady to beat!'

Greg reached over and updated the computer screen, which filled with the latest scores. 'With forty-four of the fifty contestants results posted Sharon is the clear leader. There is one nine point six, but that's your closet competition. Karen, you're doing well with your score putting you in tenth place.'

'That's exactly what I was telling her on our way here', Tom exclaimed. 'A solid posting in the Lava walk tomorrow and she's a shoe in for one of the top six places!'

The banter went on back and forth and once again I began to relax. As I sat down in my chair Greg perched himself against the desk and began massaging the tight muscles in my shoulder blades. He and Tom began an analytical argument about how I could easily lock in a place in the finals tomorrow with any type of a decent showing. That was tomorrow's problem though. As I rested my hand lightly on his and looked up into his face, he graced me with that roguish grin of his and a knowing look that told me just how much he wanted me.

Tom and Karen left a short while later and we did not end up meeting them for dinner. Greg had an entirely different plan for our evening that was absolutely delicious and only called for the two of us!

That evening I told Greg about my dreams. It was after an exhausting love making bondage session in which I found myself bound in a ball-like tie while he shifted me about at his leisure so that he could play with each of my three holes. He was very pleased with me and it showed in his words and in the number of times that he let me cum.

His first reaction to my dreams was the one that I expected as he had been indignant that I had not told him sooner. This quickly passed as he wrapped his strong arms about me and began to soothe the tears that I could no longer hold back. I explained that I had been afraid to tell him while we trained, as I feared he might pull us out. But, now that we were committed and with this big win under my belt, I felt that the time had come. Greg admonished me, but only gently, as he pointed out that it was his place to decide whether we should pull out and that it had been wrong for me to hide anything about myself from him.

I began to apologize and he hushed me with two soft fingers against my lips. 'No beloved, don't take this all upon yourself. We've been so busy of late that it hasn't left enough time just to talk between the two of us…' He paused for a few seconds at my look of confusion. '…Remember when I first moved in and after every dinner we would sit and talk for an hour or more. Than after dinner we would walk under the stars where we would share everything.' I nodded and he went on. 'Well the last six weeks, heck nearly the last eight if you include all of the effort we put into Cassy's party, ate up all of that very important time.'

He paused once more and looked away as if thinking of something. 'When Cassy moved in I really hated her, all I could see was a gold-digger. Over time we became the best of friends for one reason and one reason only. I knew without a doubt that she loved my father. The reason I knew that was because of something she told me that struck a cord so deep that I will never forget it. She told me that she loved my dad because he was the first man who ever let her tell him exactly what she was thinking. That there never needed to be any secrets or walls between them because she knew that there was nothing that she couldn't tell him.'

He looked over at me and asked softly, 'Do you understand what I am getting at?'

A host of things that other submissives had told me or that I had witnessed between his father and Cassy had led me to believe that my status was not as black and white as it might seem, flooded through my mind. There was this gray area where my needs and desires resided that I wanted to express but didn't know how. Greg seemed to see my need and it was like he was turning on a spotlight to help me find my way. Yet I still wanted some reassurance.

'But you are my Master, so shouldn't your wish be my command?' I asked softly, praying that he would not get mad at me.

'You've seen much too much "I Dream of Genie" in re-runs when you grew up didn't you?' He replied with a gentle laugh. More seriously he continued, 'Your thoughts, your needs and especially your desires are important to me. I want us both to be happy and the best ways to make that happen is to be entirely honest which each other. So why don't you start by telling me something important to you.'

I smiled brightly and nodded my head happily making the ponytail bounce on my back as I thought for a moment searching for something innocuous to say for my first attempt. 'Such as if you are going to ball gag me I like the bigger balls to the smaller ones.'

He smiled and gave me a common on signal with his hand. I took a deep breath and than let it out, 'Like telling you about my nightmares and then telling you how much I really wanted to represent Leather and Lace in the bondage competition.'

'Now we are getting somewhere', he said to me as he sat directly across form me, and looked into my eyes as he rested his hands on my shoulders. 'Let me let you in on a little secret. Every night that you stirred in your sleep, I woke up and comforted you by whispering softly in your ear. You would talk in your sleep… mostly gibberish, but some words were easy to understand… such as scared… excitement… and responsibility.' Pulling me into his warm embrace, 'These are the things we used to talk about and the things that we need to talk about once more.' My eyes began to tear and I couldn't understand why.

'Here', he said softly, 'I'll make it easy for you. I agreed to go to the bondage competition for two reasons and neither of them had to do with Leather and Lace. My first reason was because of how important it was to you. Secondly, but not far behind, was my own desire to show you off to the world. I am very proud of you… your beauty, your submissiveness, your brains, your passion and your perseverance. So that's my story… now what really brings you here?'

The tears really began to fall and I buried my head in his shoulder. I knew that I did not want to be the independent woman that I once was, but I knew in my heart and my mind that I was as smart and intelligent woman and I wanted to share that with my love. The imaginary walls that I had erected came tumbling down and the tears that flowed from my eyes were tears of happiness.

'It was all for Leather and Lace at first, but the deeper that we got into our training the more that I knew that I wanted to be in this competition for one true reason. I realized that I wanted to win. Partly to show everyone that you are the best Master and that I am your loving and obedient slave…' Stopping, I wondered if I could get the rest out. Oh, Lord, in for a penny in for a pound… 'But mainly because I'm a competitive bitch and I know that I can be the best!'

'That is the baby that I have come to know and love!' Greg shouted as he hugged me so tightly that I feared for my ribs. 'I want to show you off because I know that you're in this for the win and there is nothing that could make me prouder!' We continued to talk well into the evening until finally his own tiredness overtook him. His light snoring stirred the back of my hair, as I pressed his protective arm to my chest and sidled back just a bit deeper into his spoon. Smiling to myself, I joined my lover in slumber.

Wednesday dawned crystal clear and even the city streets seemed cleaner as we walked over to the convention center shortly after 1pm. It was a much later start than yesterday and I felt incredibly well rested, after my first night in weeks without a single nightmare! Looking over at my man he noticed my happy smile and returned it. The night before had been wonderful in a much more meaningful way than the sex alone and the bonds that held us together were stronger than ever.

He knew that look in my eye and voiced it for both of us, 'For the gold'. I nodded my head and repeated the words, 'For the gold' and than returned to applying my makeup. Despite the fact that it was important to look good in pictures and that nothing helped you look your best more than the proper use of cosmetics, the bottom line was that in one hundred and fifty degree heat less was always better! Just a light dusting of shimmering red about my eyes, a hint of blush on my cheeks (and I really didn't care if it is out of fashion!) and Forever Scarlet polish to finish off my nails.

The outfit was what was prescribed by the contest for the Lava Rock Walk event, a non-flammable body suit that I had chosen to wear in the metallic red. The heavy flame resistant tights were nude colored, but didn't come close to matching my tan. I poured water into the cushioned insoles of my slippers and let my toes wiggle into the mushy lining. Karen had warned me to do this and it still burned me that Cristobel, Greg's crazy ex-girl friend had not given up that secret.

I had practiced for weeks without the aid of the soaked interior and I had gotten more than a few minor burns despite the protection of the metallic slippers. Now I felt confident that as long as I got through the course in a reasonable amount of time that the help of the additional moisture would save me from any more burns. Of course Karen had her own way of making that point, 'If you stay out among those burning rocks too long that water will heat up like a tea kettle and boil your little tootsies red. But heck it's either that or having them grilled with no protection at all!'

Unlike yesterday there was no fuzziness in my thoughts and Greg and I worked like a well-oiled machine. I stood so that he could add my restraints that consisted of a thick white belt, double buckled about my waist and matching padded wrists cuffs that were locked to either side. He added my collar, but buckled it loosely so that it wouldn't cause me to sweat more. My only other adornment was a red terry sweat band holding my tightly coiffed hair against my head.

Greg gave me a last inspection and then lifted my chin so that I would have to look him in the eyes. I shivered as this move put an emphasis to his words, 'you've trained hard. You know what you have to do. You're my girl and you are going to win!'

I leaned forward and boldly gave him a peck on the lips, 'Yes, Master. I'm going to win!' I smiled at him mischievously before I lowered my eyes to their proper position.

He slapped me on the rear and followed me out into the aisle as the PA system called for all contestants to meet at the Lava Rock pit. Greg and I had studied the arena that they had created in past contests and this one wasn't much different. It was built on a raised platform so that the steel plated floor could be heated. The lava rocks were strewn about the floor in no discernable pattern, while their porous surfaces gave off twice as much heat as a similar patch of bare steel. Eight-foot high walls in the shape of a hexagon surrounded the pit itself causing the super heated air to sizzle and shimmer. The fans were crowded upon the tiered seating that circled the pit and rose nearly to the rafters.

The MC walked out onto a copula that had been built above the pit and you could see that he was already sweating. Even the two bikini clad women that were at his sides seemed to be feeling the heat as they waved their arms about as if they were models on "The Price is Right". 'The object of this contest is quite simple and that is to have the fastest time in crossing from one side of the pit to the other. Besides getting badly hurt, contestants that fall will be penalized. Further any contestant that is found to force another to fall will be removed from the rest of the competition.' The crowd booed at this but the MC just stared them all down until there was silence. 'Yes, I realize that some of you would just love to see the lovely bondage babes in a brawl, but let me warn you and them, if anything like that happens I'll turn the fire hoses on them and then we will just see how they like that!' With the sweat sliding off his brow I don't think anyone of us doubted the man's word, but that was fine with me as my entire game plan centered on a fair game. 'Contestants will enter the pit in waves of eight staggered at 10 minute intervals. If a contestant goes down during one of the waves the intervals will be held up until the asbestos suited monitors clear up the issue.' God, he said it so nonchalantly, but what he was talking about was the horrible possibility that one of us would slip on a rock and fall onto the heated plates. In that case our fettered hands would make it nearly impossible to get back up and only the heavily protected monitors could save us from some really terrible burns. I winced and cleared my head of the thought. Greg rubbed my shoulders as the MC started to bring the crowd to a fury pitch of excitement.

'Do either one of you girls want to go down there and join the contestants', the MC asked his swim suit clad entourage. In obviously a well-rehearsed drama they began to plead with the man not to send them to the pit, going as far as to kneel down and kiss the toes of his shoes! The crowd roared and the MC patted them on the head and told them that they had been very pleasing so they were safe… for the moment. The crowd roared again as if looking for its first sacrifice.

There was a large board to our left with our names listed upon it in neat boxes. Eight boxes made up each wave with four boxes and wide and two deep. I knew that this reflected the fact that were only four doors in both the entrance and exit walls, hence even the group of eight of us was staggered with two entrants thirty seconds apart. I was happy to see that I was following my girlfriend Karen as part of the third wave.

The MC called out the first eight contestants names and the crowd roared to life as they lined up in two's behind each of the opened doors. At the sound of the bell the first group of four jumped down unto the floor that was a good eighteen inches below the lip of the floor. Swiftly they began to high step around the lava rocks and only when they absolutely had too did they walk over the treacherous rocks. The second wave jumped at the sound of the second bell and was shortly followed by the scream of one of the contestants that must have fallen. The doors had closed, leaving only the exit doors as means of escape and cutting off my view of the event. Everyone looked up above our heads at the large screen that showed the scrambling contestants.

The woman writhing on the ground in pain must have been one of the first four. Her arms showed a number of angry red marks and she was bleeding from a gash in her leggings. The other contestants scattered to get as far away as possible from the wilding flailing female as they struggled to complete their run. Women that would have been described as absolute beauties before had been reduced to sweating wrecks in just the few minutes that they had been subjected to the pit. It was a sobering thought, but even more sobering was the poor girl that was finally scooped up by a yellow suited monitor and taken through a side panel to the in-house infirmary.

Just when it seemed that the worst was over, Cami, a beautiful little Eurasian woman slipped as she tried to climb up to the door. She screamed as she fell nearly flat on her face, scraping and burning her lovely aquiline cheeks on the merciless rocks. Her fall had caught the monitors off balance, as they had started moving back to their starting positions to wait for the next wave to begin.

Cami screamed again as she rolled and her beautiful dark brown hair began to smolder and smoke as it came in contact with the super heated rocks. 'Get out of my way', yelled someone who pushed one of the attendants aside and jumped down onto the heated plates. In three quick strides he was over to the tiny girl. He grimaced as he bent down and grabbed her as his own finger felt the heat of the burning plates, but when he straightened he held her up and flipped her over his shoulder into a firemen's carry. The crowd was going nuts as the MC reported what was going on. 'That Kiri Yamamoto, Cami's Master who has jumped down into the pit to save her. My God look at his boots, the rubber bottoms are melting to the floor!' We all watched horrified as the soles of his boots became like glue, slowing his steps to a crawl as he had to pull each shoe loose. The horrible stench of burnt meat was soon joined with that terrible smell of burning rubber. As he reached the exit door two attendants snatched Cami off of his shoulder at which point he all but collapsed. The monitors just made it to his sides in time to catch him and pass him through the door before the pit claimed its third victim.

'My God, we've never had two contestants down in the first round… and if it hadn't been Master Kiri I fear that things would have been even worse than this…' The screen diffused from the pit into a score board and the six contestants who had finished scores were displayed. Cami and the other girl that had fallen were listed as scratched. Shit! They should have been listed as burned! Despite the disaster the crowd went crazy as one of the women posed a 9.6 with one of the fastest times recorded in the events history.

I couldn't watch anymore and I turned away from the screen. Greg looked very serious as he asked me if I was all right and when I told him that I was, he nodded and left with Tom move over to the exit side of the pit.

I thought of the weeks that we had trained for this event, where I was forced to walk around and sometimes over these same types of lava rocks. But it was all so different. The area that we worked in was only a twelve by twelve-foot piece of Lucinda basement where sheets of metal had been put down over the flooring. Greg heated about fifty of the rocks in a large Weber grill on the patio outside and than threw them haphazardly about the metal flooring. Jumping from an improvised eighteen-inch wooden table, I then would circumnavigate the floor space again and again, while Greg continuously re-heated the rocks. Over time the metal began to absorb the heat of the rocks, but nothing that we had done prepared me for what I had just seen.

'My God it was like Dante's version of Hell', I said out loud without realizing it.

'Yep, it's pretty darn bad, but that's why it's part of the meat grinder', Karen responded brightly. 'But don't you worry honey, I've made it through all three times without taking a spill so I'm sure that you can do it!'

'What do you mean that it's all part of the meat grinder?' I asked perplexed.

'Oh, baby these first three events are simply here to winnow out the field and get the crowd pumped up for the main event', she told me patiently. 'Fifty girls started and we've already lost four. Two were lost in the runway event and now two more in the first heat. There are five more waves to go so by the end of today the field should be narrowed down to somewhere between thirty-five to forty of us by tonight. Then the gauntlet tomorrow will cull out some more.' She paused and looked at me questioningly.

I nodded my head as understanding dawned on me, 'Right, a meat grinder. Great and we are the meat!'

A proctor came up to us and directed us to the second door, as the third wave was getting ready. I had heard the crowd noises as we talked but hadn't thought twice about them. Now I realized that the second heat was over and the board was posting the results. Two nine point fours marks and two more scratches. Good Lord two more down!

I was standing a foot or two behind Karen when the door opened, yet it felt like I was standing in front of an oven as the heat slammed through the opening and wrapped itself about us. Looking out over the pit I was amazed to see that the far wall looked like it was a mile away. I yelled this in Karen's ear over the roar of the crowd and she called back that it was just a trick of the shimmering heat. Lines of sweat began to roll down my back and into the crack of my ass. I shifted myself, but it didn't help dispel the uncomfortable feeling.

Karen tensed visibly as the board displayed the ten-second count down and the crowd joined in yelling out the remaining time. Her gloved hands clenched and unclenched beneath the cuffs that held them bound to her waist. That beautiful long brown hair of hers was wrapped up into a tight bun and was as soaked as if she had just come out of the shower. She looked ready. Every precaution that she could have taken had been and yet I had this feeling that something was wrong.

'Good Luck', I said, as it was the only thing that I could think to say.

'Honey, I don't need luck today', she yelled with a smile, 'I've got you covering my back.'

The bell rang and she jumped down onto the heated steel. I saw her wince, but she regained her composure quickly and began the trek about the heated rocks. One step, two steps, three steps all placed perfectly. She was doing exactly as I had been taught, keeping her head down and searching for patterns to help thread her way across the dangerous flooring.

I looked up to see the clock winding down. Three more seconds before I would be allowed to start. Just then I heard a scream. Jessica, the busty blond in the lane next to Karen went down hard. She wasn't able to immediately get back up on her feet so she tried to roll away from the pile of rocks that had caused her to slip. Just as the bell rang I realized that her roll would take her right across Karen's path.

'Karen!!!' I yelled as my knees bent to absorb the impact the jump. I almost screamed again this time in fear as my slippers sizzled on the heated plates, as the excess water began to burn off. Shit, move I yelled at myself as I began to run towards my girl friend.

The heat was incredible and sweat soon sprang from my every pore, running down my back and chest in little streams. Two steps and only a few seconds and I felt like I had been here forever. Oh, my God this is sheer torture! They might as well just tie us up to a spit and roast us over a bed of coals. Damn, I better not voice that idea out loud or someone might decide to add it into the contest!

The oven like heat sapped my strength as if it were roasting the moisture out of a grilled piece of beef but Karen's scream made me re-focus my thoughts, as my fears became reality. She must have seen Jessica at the last minute and tried to jump over her, but it hadn't worked and she had fallen back on her haunches. As I ran towards her she tried to do an acrobatic leap to her feet. Even though she did manage to get her feet under her, she couldn't keep her balance and ended up right back on her rump. She screamed again as her meagerly protected skin came in contact with the heated steel for the second time.

The two yellow suited monitors had converged on Jessica, but her wild gyrations took down one of them before the other could rescue her. The other contestants scattered away from the two women that were down as they fought their ways across to the exit. In one instant it was clear that no one was going to be able to help my friend while her flesh was seared to a crisp.

My training flashed through my mind as Greg and Lucinda had yelled at me over and over never stop. It doesn't matter what is going on around you, but rule number one is that you must never stop. Once you stop, your momentum is lost and you will never regain that lost time. Lucinda had yelled at me like I was some type of a marine recruit until I had yelled back at the top of my lungs, 'Never stop… never stop… NEVER STOP!'

Shit! I had promised Greg that I would win… Shit!

A drop of sweat stung my eye as I pulled up to a stop over Karen. I widened my stance to steady myself. She looked up at me with tears streaming down her face, 'Don't stop for me. Win the God Damn race!', she yelled in obvious pain. I performed a kind of playboy bunny dip and grabbed her under the armpit with my strong right hand. 'What are you doing?' She demanded.

'I'm saving your ass, now jump!' I yelled back at her as the streams of my sweat splashed unto her upturned face. Karen's training was every bit as good as mine and the command to jump hit her like a pail of ice water. Wincing in pain she gathered herself up and snap jumped unto her feet. It was a weak jump that would have never made it on its own, but even though her weight nearly bowled us both over, I leaned forward until my weight gave her the balance she needed. Slowly we straightened until we were both standing.

I let go of her arm, but soon found my hand filled with hers as she squeezed mine and yelled, 'Move!' Galvanized back into action, I could once again hear and see what was going on around us. The crowd had gone wild as it whooped and yelled imprecations aimed at helping us back to our feet. Now they were cheering us on, as we were nearly the last two people in the pit.

Hand in hand we navigated the rest of the floor until we made our way to the exit door. I looked up to see Tom being physically restrained as he fought to get to his tortured loves side. Greg was yelling at him, that Karen would be scratched if she didn't make it in under her steam, but the angry mask of Tom's face showed that he could care less.

'You first', I yelled at her and she nodded at me to tired and drained to argue further. She yelped when I gave her a final nudge against her butt to make sure she didn't fall back into the pit. Gathering the last of my own strength I leapt into the opening that was cleared once more as Tom swept up Karen in his arms and carried her away.

The roar of the crowd was nearly deafening as Greg held my shoulders and looked into my eyes. 'You were amazing out there', he yelled with a smile on his face. Every bit of energy in my body left me and I slumped down to the cool wooden floor. I had been totally prepared for him to ream me up one side and down the other but now I could totally relax as my love held me.

'Please take off my slippers. My feet are still being fried in them.' Reaching down with a concerned look he peeled off the offending items and sure enough tendrils of steam floated up from them.

Lifting me up into his arms, I closed my eyes and rested against his chest. He carried me away from the roaring crowd and soon I was feeling totally chilled as the buildings air conditioning began to freeze the rivulets of sweat on my body. I curled myself against him to stay warm. In seconds we were back in our dressing room and Greg was wrapping towels about me to clean off the sweat and stop me from shivering.

My feet were starting to hurt and when I looked at their soles what faced me was angry red skin showing right through the nude hose. Greg pushed a tub of ice water over and I sank my pained peds into it. Pins and needles exploded across the bottoms and top of my extremities in much the same way it hurts to put your frozen feet into a hot tub of water. I began to struggle to pull them out, but he held my legs down.

'You leave those feet in that bath baby!' Greg yelled at me sternly. You don't have any blisters on your feet yet and if you keep your feet in this bath for a bit you shouldn't get any.' As soon as he yelled I stopped and grit my teeth against the pain. 'Good girl', he praised me softly, 'this is going to make the world of difference tomorrow when you have to be back in your six inch heels for the Gauntlet event.'

The pain began to subside and I thanked the Gods that be, that at least one of us was thinking clearly. I could barely even think of putting my scolded feet into the narrow confines of a pair of stiletto heels. Those things were torture all by themselves, but sure as little babies were born I was going to have to put a pair on for tomorrow's competition.

As I stood in the tub of icy water, Greg stripped off my sweat soaked bodysuit and leggings. I heard a familiar 'Knock, Knock' from behind our curtain doorway. Greg called, 'Come on in Tom' as I belted my robe about me. Tom held the curtain while Karen waddled in wincing in pain. She dropped the large cold pack wrapped in a towel on the desk and then sat on it with a sigh.

'My God, why aren't you in the infirmary?' I asked stunned out of my own tiredness.

'Ah, there nothing but third degree burns and some of them aren't even that bad', she said in her thickest southern accent. 'The so-called doctors in the infirmary could only tell me to keep the damaged skin cool and apply plenty of aloe… as if I couldn't have figured that out for myself!' She paused to give me a huge smile, 'Besides there no way that my Tom could keep me away once I found out that my brave rescuer had won again!'

'Won again?' I asked perplexed.

'You don't know?' She asked flabbergasted.

'Know what?'

'That you won the lava walk with a nine point eight', Karen replied smugly.

Greg left my side to turn to the computer muttering 'how is that possible' under his breath. Tom was by his side in a flash and they worked there way through the scoring until they could get the details on my results. 'By God, it's unbelievable, but you darn well did it.' He said happily as he ran over and hugged me. 'There were four parts to the scoring, speed was only one of them, so slowing down to help Karen left you with an 8.5, which bumped up to a 9.0 when they gave you a ten second bonus for good sportsmanship. The judges gave you tens in every other area.'

'But there are only three scoring criteria, not four', I replied in confusion.

Tom joined in with a smile, 'You know the rule that you aren't allowed to adversely affect another contestant unless it is within the confines of the contest?' I nodded my head in the positive. 'Well it appears that the corollary is the fourth grading factor in all events! It has something to do with tomorrow's event and the fact that in the past women would keep beating each other even after they were down or when they were trying to get up. When they stopped that practice they added this rule and it's been sitting there ever since.' That big smile of his seemed to fill the room. 'And you pretty lady found it without even trying.'

Karen looked up at the two of us and added, 'Not only that, but since my fall was caused by another contestant I received the maximum time bonus of fifteen seconds which raised me to a 9.2 and which puts me in seventh place. So this old girl has got a chance to make it into the finals for the first time ever!'

'You're still going to compete tomorrow? But that's crazy they are all going to be aiming for your burns and that is going to hurt like nobodies business.' I said totally startled that she would even consider going on.

'Baby I bore two children all through natural childbirth and let me tell you that nothing that anyone can ever do to me will be more painful than that!' Karen replied earnestly. 'So as long as I've got a chance to make it into the finals, you can bet that I can take whatever they want to dish out!'

'You know I tried to tell her the same thing', Tom chimed in, 'but I couldn't fault her reasoning.'

'Ah, hmm', someone said from behind the curtain.

Greg stuck his head out of the curtained doorway and asked, 'Can we help you?'

The backstage attendant nodded and said, 'The Head Promoter would like to see you both in his office at your earliest possible convenience.' Seeing the question forming on Greg's lips he added, 'And no I don't know why.' He turned and walked away without another word.

'Ah, well I guess we better be going so we can take care of my brides burnt butt!' Tom said as he helped Karen off the desk. They left amidst a storm of her grumbling about just how funny her husband thought he was.

The secretary in the outer office sat cross-legged behind a desk that looked like it had never been used for work. Her attention was entirely on her nails as she buffed and shaped them to perfection. I saw Greg's eyes stray to her flagrantly displayed legs and smiled to myself as he scowled. Her impressive display of thigh in her short slit skirt was lost on my man, as it was all too obvious that she wore cheap pantyhose.

Pantyhose and my Master did not get along, as he hated having anything between him and what he considered to be his. I'm sure the strappy platform sandals that she wore also turned him off. Oh, certainly the seven-inch spike heel would have interested him but the three-inch platform supporting the balls of her feet ruined the effect. Knowing him, he would have been much more aroused by a simple pair of four-inch heels.

Her impressive breast works however did seem to meet with his approval. She wore a brightly stripped shirt that was tailored to her body and ended lying lightly over the skirts waistband rather than tucked into it. It was a new fashion that many teens were displaying which made me wonder if all of her makeup hid a much younger woman than I had at first guessed.

She finally seemed to notice us, and her initial look of disdain from being interrupted quickly changed to a predatory smile as she licked her lips while she looked directly into Greg's eyes. 'And just how may I be of… Service to you?' She asked suggestively while the fingers of one hand slid down the front of her open blouse to make sure that she was displaying as much cleavage as possible.

My Master, I know, has a weakness for large breasts in tight shirts as he often had me wear blouses a size to small when he wanted to tie me in street clothes so I felt I should take the lead. 'Your office sent for me. I am Sharon Glasser here to see the head promoter.'

She gave a little tinkling laugh, 'Oh, yes the HEAD promoter…' she said continuing to watch Greg's eyes as she emphasized the word "head". His earlier interest cooled quickly leaving behind an angry gaze. Her smile vanished as her attempted seduction failed miserably and in another second that hard steely look forced her to break eye contact. 'Ah… just one second and I see if Mr. DeNoto is in.'

She stood and straightened her skirt, obviously trying to regain her composure before she entered the door she had been guarding. Stupid girl, I thought to myself, what did she expect to happen when she starred directly into a master's eyes! The twit certainly hadn't met one before otherwise her flirting would have taken an entirely different tact.

The door opened and a man with a shark-like smile, which fit perfectly with his sharkskin suit, emerged. He walked directly toward me with outstretched hands, but his eyes darted quickly back and forth between the two of us. 'Hello, I'm Danny DeNoto. Sharon it is an honor to meet you', he said in a gravelly ingratiating voice as his two clammy hands wrapped themselves around my right. His eyes darted back to Greg, 'and you sir, it is a true pleasure to meet a Master of your obvious quality, that could create such an outstanding submissive.'

I disengaged my hand while he watched Greg and wiped off his grime on the side of my designer sweat pants. With a sweeping gesture he said, 'Please step into my office.' His tone changed, 'Marcy please get us all a cup of coffee.' The secretary, Marcy, gave him a look that said that he could get his own damn coffee, but a hard glance in return forced her to hold her tongue.

After he had closed the door behind us he said softly, 'It is just so hard to find good help these days, isn't it? Marcy is my wife's niece and not much good at anything, but I keep her around for her obvious assets… in terms of greeting guests.' I wondered to myself just how much his wife knew about his delving into those obvious assets, which was easy to see through their well-developed interplay. Regardless, I wasn't there to discuss his infidelity.

He interlaced his fingers on the desk before him as he got down to business. 'First I must congratulate you on wining the first two events. That's a first in the thirty years of this contest and it does make you a bit of a celebrity in the B&D world. If you take that plus the facts that you are a total unknown to the industry and that you are nearly a shoe in to make the finals, that makes you a very hot property.' I nodded my head in agreement and waited for him to get to the point. 'So what I would like to do is ask you're permission to post pictures of you on the BondageCon 2004 website.' Ah, so that is what this was all leading up to!

'That's right the disclaimer that I signed only referred to using my picture after the contest was over. Hmm, I suppose your lawyers screwed up on that one', I replied off-handedly.

He looked pained when he replied, 'Yes, well this is a very unusual situation.'

'Yes, I'm sure it is and if you could get the word out on the net that an incredibly beautiful newcomer was looking at making a clean sweep of the competition, especially with some pictures from say the runway contest with me teetering in those six inch heels to back it up… hmm, you could probably increase the attendance by a factor of what? … three perhaps? Add that to how much you can charge for people to download those pictures and we are talking some very serious money aren't we?'

I ticked off these thoughts on my fingers as they popped into my head. What I was doing was merciless, but heck this was business and after watching Mr. Thatcher and Mr. Stanton go at it this was pretty small potatoes. From the corner of my eye I noticed that Greg was watching me intently and I chose to take his silence as encouragement to continue.

Mr. DeNoto paled visibly as he began to run a finger about his collar, as if it were too tight, before he stopped himself. Reluctantly he agreed, 'Yes, that's about it in a nutshell. So if you will just sign this document we can all get back about our business.'

'I see', I replied thoughtfully as I looked at the paper that had been placed in front of me. 'Hmm, what I don't see is the amount of remuneration that I am to receive for my services?' I passed it over to Greg, but it was obvious that it was merely a release form.

'Remuneration?' He asked perplexed.

'Payment… money', I supplied in an effort to broaden his vocabulary.

'Oh, you want a kick back', he said leaning back in his chair with a smile, 'I'm sure something like that can be arranged.'

'No, I do not want a kick back', I told him firmly, 'what I was thinking of was that every picture you post of me or any statements that you make about me must have "Leather & Lace, Inc. representative" attached in big bold letters.'

'But we have a firm policy that none of our postings be associated with any one company!' He replied in an angry voice.

'Ah, then I suppose that we have an impasse', I replied airily.

'An im… what?' He said as his face reddened.

'An impasse… we can not come to an agreement so there is no deal', I explained as I would to a child while leaning back in my seat.

Jumping to his feet, he planted both hands on the desk with a thump and leaned over it towards me, 'Now look here missy…'

That was a far as he got before the noise of Greg's hand slamming down on the desk stunned him to a stop. 'Danny', he said very quietly, 'you are going to sit down at your desk nice and easily or this meeting is over.' He waited till the poor wretch was looking directly at him before adding, 'Do I make myself clear?'

'Yeah, yeah…' he said as he sat back down, 'but we don't do that!'

'Danny', Greg continued softly, 'I suggest you talk to the lady and not me. It's her picture that you want to plaster all over the inter-net not mine.'

'Look Sharon, I'm sorry for getting out of line, but I can't agree to what you are asking', he said as he relaxed a bit and spread his hands in negation. 'Now, if there is some other form of payment that we could negotiate…'

'If you can't agree to it, then who can?' I asked.

'Huh, ah Mr. Del Rizzo I guess, he owns 85% of the business.'

'We can wait while you get him on the phone.'

'OK, but he's not going to like this', he replied disgustedly as he picked up the receiver and dialed. His conversation was muffled behind his hand, but the sweat on his forehead made it clear that things weren't going his way. When he put the phone back in its cradle his hand faltered and it took him two tries to get it right. He looked up at me from behind his pale complexion and said, 'Ah, Mr. Rizzo has agreed to your request and he told me to thank you for kindness. He'll have a copy of the revised document ready for you signature delivered to your dressing room.'

I nodded, rose and turned to leave. Looking over my shoulder I asked, 'He thanked me for my kindness? Why?'

The man looked beaten when he replied in a tight voice, 'For having to deal with me.'

Turning back I asked, 'Can I use your phone?'

'Sure, why the hell not', he said pushing it towards me.

Picking up the receiver I hit the re-dial button. 'Mr. Rizzo I just wanted to call and thank you myself for all your help. Danny had been such a lovely host, but when we reached our little impasse he said that you were the true power in this organization and that only you could make that type of decision. So I apologize from dragging you away from your important work, but I just had to thank both you and Danny for all your support.' He spoke a few words to me and asked that I put on Mr. DeNoto, so I handed the phone to him.

'Yes, Mr. Rizzo. Of course Mr. Rizzo. Thank you Mr. Rizzo.' When he put the receiver down he had a funny look on his face. 'Thank you… thank you Ms. Glasser, that was really good of you.' He pulled himself together as I nodded and turned towards the door. 'I'll have Marcy run down that agreement as soon as it arrives.'

Once we left the room, I looked over to Greg and asked diffidently, 'Was that alright?'

'Darling, that was perfect!' He answered as he put his arm around my shoulders.

'But I just ripped that man apart back there, I don't think that that is in the female submissive handbook!' I said in a soft, yet questioning voice.

'Oh, my, my, my', he said with a laugh, 'so you are still trying to figure out what the rules of your new role are, eh?' At my nod of agreement he continued. 'Suffice it to say that if I don't tell you not to do something that you are allowed to do it. However since you seem to want more clarification suppose I start by asking you a few questions.' I nodded again and he proceeded.

'At work do you expect me to over-rule your decisions?'

'No. Not unless you thought I was doing something that wasn't in the best interest of the company.'

'Would you expect me to berate you for putting an errant male worker in his place if he was working for you?'

'I think that I am getting your meaning… what happens outside of our sexual relationship is not your concern, correct?'

'Correct as far as being your Master goes! However as your lover I was very proud of how you handled yourself in there and as for you handing that stupid idiot his head… to bad for him, he deserved it. But that little finishing touch of making him grateful to you was sheer genius. The last thing we needed was for him to start stacking the deck against us to get back at you.'

Once I realized how open he was to discussing our roles I continued to ask questions throughout the evening. Slowly but surely all of the gray areas that had plagued me for so long became more defined. At first Greg was a bit perturbed by all of my requests for clarification, but when he realized that I was as much a "type A" personality as he and that my goal was to be the most perfect submissive possible his attitude took a huge shift. He became the wonderfully thoughtful teacher listening to my every question and than discussing them point by point with me. Even when we lay down to sleep that evening we talked until finally all of the questions that I could think of had been answered.

'You know with all of these little nuances to our roles you would think someone would have written a rule book!' Greg looked at me incredulously. 'You know what I mean like a golf hand book that tells you how to swing the club on an up hill lie…'

Greg laughed out loud at the thought, but sobered when he saw my hurt expression. 'It's an interesting idea baby, but I think that the problem would be that every Masters expectations might be different. I've told you what I want. What my father wants of Cassy or what Mike Thatcher wants of Samantha may be two totally different things.' I nodded my head as I began to understand the dilemma. 'To make it even more complicated this is what I want today and it is entirely possible that this may change as our relationship grows.'

Wrapping his arm about me, he drew me into the spoon of his body, as he whispered softly into my ear, 'I love you both for the person that you are and the submissive that you have become to please me. I see your worry that things may change, but I promise you it will only be for the better as we become closer and closer to becoming one. Now sleep beautiful one so that you are well rested for tomorrow's event!' He kissed my hair and I fell off to sleep with the happy thought of the two of us becoming one.

Walking into the event on Wednesday I couldn't help but feel totally elated. This was my favorite event and I couldn't stop myself from feeling excited that it had finally arrived. My mood was heightened even further by the life size cardboard cut out picture of me at the runway event standing in the middle of the lobby. There I was in my tight red corset, standing tiptoe in my useless high heels, while swing bells hung from my nipples. I knew that it was impossible, but the way the photographer had caught me the dimples caused by the gag made it look as if I were smiling.

Seeing Karen waiting outside the door of my dressing room was the cherry on top of my ice cream sundae. 'How are the burns?' I asked her as we hugged.

Drawing back from me she opened her robe to show off her bikini clad body and her still angry red thighs. 'I have enough aloe on these puppies to grease a fleet of New York taxis! So at the moment I'm feeling just fine!' She looked up at me and asked, 'how are you doing?' Her eyes were piercing and it was as if she could see my uneasiness as clearly as if I had plastered a sign on my chest.

'I'm actually kind of excited', I answered slowly and than thought that I shouldn't sound overly confident, 'but I'm a little scared at being singled out as the number one target.'

Karen gave her hearty belly laugh before replying, 'Darlin' that is the most normal thing you have done so far in this competition! Of course you're nervous, you're the new sheriff in town and everyone is gunning for you. But don't you worry honey, because I'm going to be you faithful deputy standing right by your side so you don't ever have to worry about being alone.'

Tears of gratitude began to well in my eyes as I wrapped her in a hug. 'Now don't think that I'm being all altruistic on you here honey, as I'm the most realistic cuss you are ever likely to meet! The way I see it is that there is no chance in the world for me to be the winner. Let's face it, I'm past my prime and that's going to show more and more WHEN WE get to the finals. But if it weren't for you darlin' I wouldn't even be looking at a chance to make it into the finals and in all honesty that has always been Tom and my dream. So you might just say that I still have to pay you back for saving my ass… literally!'

I didn't know what to say but Greg stepped in to fill the gap, 'Sounds like a great plan to me. You've got to admit that my little lady is like a lightening rod out there and where there is lightening there is fire which is what is making you two ladies red hot properties!'

'Thanks for reminding me of my ass again Greg, but its high time that we start planning our strategy together!' With that we all gathered round the computer and discussed the upcoming event. There were now only thirty-eight contestants left with the meat grinder taking another ten down in the lava walk event. Looking at it mathematically only the top twenty had any probability of winning their way into the final six. So it all came down to not making any critical mistakes in my case and in Karen's she had to also outshine the others.

Tom added, 'Karen has a very high pain tolerance so our basic plan was to simply have her take the punishment and keep on smiling. However, with the damage done to her rump that's not going to be as easy as we had anticipated.'

Greg looked at me and asked, 'How do you feel about covering Karen's ass again?'

My smile grew larger than my face as I asked, 'Just what did you have in mind?'

Tom and Karen started to say something and Greg shushed them both and then said, 'Here's the plan.'

The Gauntlet was simply two columns of women set into boxes two feet by four feet long outlined on the floor with colored masking tape. The two sets ran perpendicular to each other with only four feet separating them to form the aisle that was the gauntlet. All of the remaining contestants would line up one across from the other to fill 18 boxes on each side. The two ladies at the mouth of the Gauntlet would put down their whips or paddles and then would have there wrist restraints attached to their collars before they were sent down the path.

The object was to make it through the seventeen pairs of whips, without stumbling and while doing your best to keep a smile plastered on your faces. Just looking at the layout of the boxes was intimidating. In each alternating box a paddle or a whip was waiting on the floor, just aching to be used. Worse yet the box opposite to its companion in the aisle always had the opposite implement, which meant that while one contestant was going for your front with the whip the other was going for the rear with the paddle.

The paddle was a nasty thing, which was made to look like a cricket bat. The dimensions were about correct with the total length a bit longer than two feet and the blade being eighteen inches long and three inches wide, but that was were the likeness stopped. The blade itself was a flat piece of heavily lacquered wood with holes drilled in it in a checkerboard pattern. From the side it looked more like a spatula, this would have reassured me somewhat if I hadn't already felt the sting of this little item which with it holes disallowed even a cushion of air for protection

The whip was one I was well acquainted with, as it was a product that Leather and Lace sold and Stanton & Sons produced. It was one of Greg's favorites with its longish handle and its multiple braided eighteen inch leather tongs. The good news was that this was what was referred to a medium whip, which meant that the tongs weren't quite as long or heavy as its big brother and most importantly the ends weren't knotted. The bad news was that having a dozen braided leather straps slamming into your unprotected breasts or stomach was not a pleasant sensation… to some at least.

I knew that my own personal experiences with the whip could often be quite different than the torture that some might expect. Greg often used the whip while I was bound helplessly to our bed and his desire was not simply to punish me. Far from it he was rewarding me!

For instance I would be bound, gagged and blindfolded spread eagle upon my big four-poster dressed in the sexy lingerie of his choice. To this he would add a few choice items like a vibrating egg shoved into my vagina and perhaps a pair of overly tight nipple clamps that he would tie painfully to the tops of the tall posts of the headboard. He would then begin to play with my clit, perhaps with his fingers or other times with a vibrator but his passion to make me cum was very clear. Ah, but I had to pay for my pleasure and he would remind of this often. The crop would strike me at the top of my thighs just above my garter belted stockings, causing me to cry out helplessly into my gag. He would order me to point my toes in my slippers or heels or to hump the vibrator faster and this would cause me to focus on those things, even for a short time. All of these things were used to keep me from focusing on the one thing that I wanted most and that of course was to cum. This forced my climaxes to build and slow, build and slow, build and slow… until I could think of nothing else but my final climax. It was then that each strike of the lash and each painful twist of my nipples transcended pain and became pure excitement traveling down into my loins like wildfire.

This was the state that I sought to replicate before I strode down through the gauntlet of angry vixens! Lucinda worked with me on this relentlessly, chasing me about with the whip, paddle or even her favorite crop while she had Greg ran through a litany of wonderful things that he was going to do with my quivering flesh once he got his hands on me again. Greg had continued describing exactly what he was doing to me during our sexual bondage sessions and with me blinded this worked even better to bind the litany of love into my mind. It had gotten to the point that I merely had to close my eyes while I walked to hear his voice in my ears. His tone would become more and more intense as my orgasm grew. So despite the intimidating air of the event, I felt more confident than ever that this was one area that I could excel in.

In my six-inch high heel sandals, which featured crossing straps across the instep and an ankle strap I felt very confident in my stride while Karen and I were escorted to our respective boxes across from each other. The crowd exploded with noise. Whistles, catcalls and finally my name being chanted overwhelmed even the MC as he introduced each of the ladies. I took full advantage of my heavy satin push-up bra to thrust out my chest and show off my very feminine curves. Add to that a straight legged bent at the waist pose with me throwing kisses to the audience and I soon had them in the palm of my hand. As the MC called for quiet over the PA and the applause receded I waved to the crowd and smiled my best smile and then gave them a few more Betty Boop type poster poses until I had them cheering again.

This is not to say that some of the other contestants didn't get exactly the same reaction, as this was the one event that allowed the contestants the freedom to really bond with the crowd. In fact a few of them that were well-known favorites that often brought audience to standing ovations!

It was an intoxicating feeling to know that you were the focus of so much attention, yet even more satisfying was the smiles of approval that I was being graced with by my Master. I picked up the paddle at my feet and waved it at him. He mimed bending over and spanking his own ass and I laughed as I followed his led. The camera flashes came hot and heavy which was just fine by me. Giving the photographers plenty of good shots meant that my pictures would be plastered all over the net yielding L&L a ton of free publicity!

'Contestants numbers one and four please take your places at the beginning of the gauntlet', the PA intoned after the MC had finished his introductions. A tall blond named Clarissa was number one, who even without her heels would have dwarfed the little Japanese Tamoko. Tamoko, even with the six inch heels, head only barely reached the blonds breasts and her slim body and short hair made her look more like a boy than a girl. Clarissa on the other hand was muscular yet at the same time a bit on the heavy side, but I doubt that her Master minded as much of her extra weight was carried in her huge chest.

Attendants quickly secured their wrist restraints to their collars, while making sure that all of the buckles were tight with no chance of them coming loose. Soon they were ready and Clarissa was lined up at the starting gate. Tamoko was slightly behind her and would be held back for ten seconds until the attendants would let her through the gate.

Clarissa shook her deeply tanned body to loosen the muscles and tested her mules to make sure they were comfortable. Wearing mules with such a high heel seemed incredible to me, yet her California look seemed to suggest that she wore this sort of outfit on a daily basis. This would certainly account for why she was so comfortable in her outrageous sandals.

The bell rang and she was off. Clarissa was an old hand at this and refused to bolt out of the starting gate, this wasn't a race and she knew it. With a steady stride she started down the gauntlet. She kept her smile even after the first blow from a whip lashed her double "D" chest. The paddles flew slamming her cheeks till they turned bright red and the repeated whipping of her chest was turning the red lines white. Twice she faltered as a wicked paddle stroke pushed her forward, but she quickly regained her stride and finished with a tight smile still gracing her face.

Tamoko wasn't as fortunate. She bolted out of the gate like a startled fawn and her running like stride left her an easy mark for the veteran paddlers. She hadn't even made it three boxes before one of the contestants felled her like a tiny sapling. Undaunted she scrambled back to her feet. Still not learning her lesson she ran to catch up. This caught a few of the ladies off guard, but the pair before Karen and I would get our chance found her measure to disastrous effect. The paddle caught her only on one cheek, but the weight of the blow was enough to turn her half around making it impossible not to fall over her high heeled pumps. The whip, whistling through the air that had been aimed at her chest slammed right into her face as she fell to the floor. Tomoko let out a piercing scream as the whip cut at her mouth and cheeks splitting her lip in a number of places. Crying she got up shakily to her feet right in between Karen and I. The crowd began to yell for us to hit her as if this was a Roman coliseum and they were baying for the poor Christians blood. I swung my paddle half-heartedly and even this light blow almost knocked her down again. The good news was it also got her moving and she passed on out of our reach. I was shouting encouragement to her as she continued down the path like a pinball in a machine gone wild. But a quarter of the way from the finish she received a perfect one-two punch, where the paddle caught her just below the hips as the whip hit her right in the chest. Her meager chest was already bleeding from the punishment that she had taken so she must have leaned back to avoid the blow, this combined with the double slam knocked her onto her back and that was just to much for her. The tears poured down her face, but she refused to cry out again as she rolled herself into a ball for protection from any further blows.

Despite the crowd braying for the beating to continue, the contestants all just stood back and waited until two attendants came to pick her up and help her off the course. I couldn't help but wonder if the shock of yesterdays ruling, regarding what I liked to think of as good sportsmanship, make them hold their blows. Of course it might simply be that they were protecting themselves from payback from this very eliminated contestant. You see there were no eliminations till after the course was completed so Tomoko was helped out of her restraints and put back into the last box at the end of the left line as we all shifted back one box.

Clarissa very solid score of nine point three flashed up on the screen and the crowd roared with approval. Reaching across the lane, the tall blond shook Tamoko's hand obviously consoling her. She responded with a deep bow of respect and the crowd once again voiced its approval.

The contest went on and slowly but surely Karen and I moved to the back of the lines until it was our turn to face the gauntlet.

When the bell rang for Karen start, she bowed to the audience, smiled and than burst out into song! 'Just a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down, helps the medicine go down, the medicine go down, the medicine go down… in the most delightful way.' In tune with the song from Mary Poppins she began to sashay down the aisle as if she were walking across her high school stage. Even the first few blows to her still tender hips didn't faze her as she slowly worked her way down the path. I laughed as I watched her go singing the only tune that she was sure that she could remember as she had sang it to her children more times than she could count. This was all a part of the great plan that we had derived and my way to make sure that her back was protected.

The attendant watching the time shouted, "go" as the ten-second mark passed. Taking a deep breath I closed my eyes for a second and centered myself on Greg's sexy voice than I stepped off at a good pace. The blows came and I soaked them up like a sponge, smiling all the wider as I imagined Greg playing with my clit and twisting my nipples. With seemingly no effort what so ever I caught up with Karen until we were only a yard apart. This forced the contestants to often decide whether to hit Karen at all or try to get in two strokes on me. Knocking off number one was too big of an opportunity for most of them and more and more shots were directed my way.

Closing my eyes I let the sound of Karen's voice direct me while I slid into my head and let Greg's litany of love overtake me. Soon I was moaning not in pain but in excitement as the wildfire effect began to take hold of me. Oh, God yes, a whip lashed my breasts and just caught my nipple and the lightening flowed into my cunny. A heavy blow to my hips sent me up on tiptoe, but I simply danced forward in my perfectly secured sandals just like the ballerina that I had once been.

'That felt so good, didn't it baby' Greg whispered in my ear and I shouted out 'Yes, Master' as a huge smile filled my face. A blow of the whip to my stomach was like multiple lines of fire, but Greg's voice egging me on and telling me how much I loved it, turned the fire into sizzling excitement. 'Yes, yes, please more' I cried.

'Tell me how much you want it baby', Greg's voice said softly in my mind as the rain of blows came thicker and heavier.

'Hmm, yes, thank you Master may I have another', I replied breathily, 'another… another… oh, yes, another… oh, thank you Master for hitting my cunny… it aches for your touch… oh, yes thank you Master!'

'Will you come for me if I whip your little cunny?' Greg asked softly.

'Oh, yes Master, please hit my cunny…. Please, please…' I begged piteously. The whips shifted there target and more and more strokes made it between my legs. The blades wrapped around my thighs leaving just the dangerous tips to lick my lips. 'Oh, yes, yes, yes…'

…and your out' was the last thing the I heard. It was the phrase that I had been trained with over and over. It was the end where I could let myself go. I felt strong arms encircle me and I slumped into them and let the orgasm that had been building for the last hundred feet burst forth as I cried out in ecstasy, 'YES!'

I felt myself lowered to the floor as my hips bucked to the unleashed tsunami. A blanket was thrown over my body and then Greg's hand was down between my legs bringing me from one peak of excitement to the next. I don't know how long he played with me, but as my orgasms finally ebbed, I opened my eyes to see him smiling brightly.

'Thank you Master that was wonderful', I intoned with pure adoration in my voice.

Flash after flash caught me unaware making me wince from the bright lights as the photographers captured it all on film. I smiled to the crowd as Greg helped me back to my feet and then turned when I heard my own breathy voice behind me. '… And here it is again' the announcer said, as the huge screen dissolved to a close up of Greg supporting me while the blanket covering my waist rose and fell with my hips. His flying fingers could be seen as a tent in the wool directly above my gyrating vagina. My eyes were closed and the excitement on my face was easy to see as my hand clenched the corner of the blanket into a knot pulling it away from my breasts. The camera zoomed in on the angry red lines that resembled an insane road map across my chest as it rose and fell to my labored breathing. My final climax was incredible to behold as I bucked like a wild thing and called out, 'Yes Master, Thank you Master' over and over again as I came. I finally lay still with a sated look upon my face until slowly my eyes opened and I said in a very husky breathy voice, 'Thank you Master that was wonderful'.

The camera zoomed back to the MC, 'that was absolutely incredible ladies and gentlemen! Once again baby and her Master Greg, our Leather and Lace representatives have pulled off an absolutely amazing run the likes of which has never been seen before. Let's just take another look at that run on instant replay…'

It was at that point that the crowd exploded in pandemonium as the scores appeared up on the big screen. I smiled in satisfaction as the ten point zero went up on the board next to my name and began to flash. Then I found myself screaming and jumping up and down as Karen's name was followed by a glowing nine point eight! Karen and Tom came over and we all hugged each other, with Karen and I continuing to jump up and down in glee.

An attendant came over and cleared his throat to make himself heard, but it took a yell from him to get through our elation, 'Ladies, we are going to be starting up again in just a few minutes and we need you to take your places.' Oh, darn! That right we still had half of the event to go through to finish the gauntlet.

Karen started back over to her box and picked up her paddle. I gave Greg one more hug before I did the same. The camera followed us back to our boxes and then the crowd began a low rumbling chant, '…baby… baby… baby… baby…'. I curtsied to the crowd, which is quite a chore in six-inch heels, yet my smile knew no bounds. The camera zoomed in on the wet stain on my bikini bottoms, and I laughed out loud as I waved to the crowd. Then turning to Greg I pointed between my legs, then curtsied to him and yelled, 'Thank you Master.' The crowd roared its approval until the MC called for quiet so that the event could continue. But none of that mattered. Karen and I had made it into the finals; Greg was beaming his love and approval at me with every glance, so everything was perfect with my world!