The OWLS Club Pt. 12

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The OWLS Club

The story is about a group of people, an actual place, and a dream. While having a none too subtle dig at society in general. This is a work of pure fiction. None of the characters are real people, nor do they represent real people. It is a slow burn, a lot of romance and some gratuitous sex for those who need to get off on it. It is based in Australia so I have used local language. There is some Italian and French conversations, so if you want to really become attached to the characters I strongly recommend you use a google translator. It will help with the flow of the conversations. As I use the Queen’s English, I will apologise in advance to my American friends for the correct spelling of some words.

Some of the place names are correct.

There is no underage sex involved.

***It has been pointed out to me, on numerous occasions that the inclusion of French or another language, is somewhat distracting from the flow of the conversation. I will leave them in the story, as I want you, [but I have added the English translation in brackets to help those who prefer it,] the reader, to engage with each of the different characters, form a bond with them. So please, use a French to English translator [I use Google] it adds to the story.***

Chapter 12 — A New Business same as the Old Business.

It took a few more hours to calm everybody down. To gather our senses. I offered dinner to everyone but each had other plans that they were committed to. Mia and Emily were dining with Mia’s parents. While Terry and Cindy had booked themselves and Miriam into a local restaurant.

We said our good byes, hugs all round and to my surprise Mia got a hug from both Miriam and Cynthia. Wonders will never cease I thought to myself. Michelle stood back from all the family. Nodding as each one said good bye. It was only Emily who gave her a hug and kissed her cheeks, then whispered something to her. They both had a broad smile so I kind of knew it would be salacious in tone. I wanted to take a further step so walked out onto the front porch holding Michelle’s hand, then I put my arm around her as the cars pulled out of the drive way. I hugged her, keeping her close as I waved each car off.

Across the road I saw Margaret in her garden once again. We waved as I kissed Michelle on her head, in plain view. I had no fear of sharing some PSA.

I opened the screen door for Michelle and once she was inside I held her close kissed her deeply and patted her backside.

“Playroom Missy, you have some things to learn.” I told her.

“Yes Mistress.”

She stood there in front of me and slowly undid each button on her shirt, her eyes never leaving mine. She slipped it off her shoulders as a stripper might do for an audience, trying to elicit money from some lecherous male sitting in the front row. All of this was, although very arousing, wasted on me at this time, as it gave me greater resolve to teach my darling young sub, manners and that not everything she does could distract me from my task.

I stood there showing no emotion. She let the shirt fall to the floor, I smiled at her. She continued her striptease act for me. I still show no sign of giving in to her beautiful body, although I could feel my inner core begin to awake.

I controlled it.

She slowly unbuttoned her tight dress jeans, as I watched her every move. Knowing full well she couldn’t get out of them without an extra pair of hands. She pulled her zipper down and peeled the opening back. I knew she hadn’t any panties on, as we hadn’t bought any yet.

She smiled at me as she eased them off of her hips. She struggled to get them any further. I didn’t move. She reached out to me with her hand. I took a step backwards and she tumbled forward, landing in a pile at my feet.

“Now what are you going to do Michelle?” I asked her.

“I need your help Mistress.” She told me. Looking saddened and with a pouting lip.

“Yes you do, and not just to get undressed.” I stood over her. I put my foot on her thigh and then pushed her down as I rested my foot in her groin. And pushed it back and forth.

“Understand one thing Michelle, I can have you at anytime, anywhere I choose, I own you. You belong to me. You are not my equal, you are not my romantic ‘other’ you are my sub. So do not play these silly games with me unless I instruct you so. Now stay there. I walked away from her in a symbolic display of a Domme who knew what she had to do.

I returned with a leash and plastic fly swatter. “Put the leash on Michelle.” I instructed her.

She did so then offer the handle to me. I knocked it out of her hand. Glaring down at her. “Pick it up, hold onto it yourself. Do not let it go. Now get out of those jeans by yourself.” I told her.

She struggled easing the jeans down each leg. I knew she would have to put the leash down to pull them off over her ankles and foot. I stood over her watching, waiting, knowing the moment will come. It did but instead of putting the loop over her wrist as someone else escorts in london may have done, she put it down and quickly pulled her foot through the opening.

The fly swatter came down sharply on her bicep, she yelped and her nostrils flared as she looked daggers at me. I hit her again, then a third time all the while the leash stayed on the floor. Her defiance knew no bounds. I kept hitting her, harder and harder. Not out of anger. But as a Mistress flays her disobedient sub.

This was a battle of wills.

The redness on her arm grew. As tears appeared in her eyes, pleading with me to stop. I didn’t, I hit her again, glaring down at her, seeing her core calling to me. Seeing the tears in her eyes. I continued to hit her, until her hand moved ever so slowly toward the leash on the floor next to her. She picked it up. Tears streaming from her eyes now.

I stopped hitting her.

I squatted down next to her, took the loop of the leash and put her hand through it and let it drape over her wrist.

I stood back up and said to her. “I am your Mistress, not your romantic lover, not your girlfriend, I OWN you. You do as I say, when I say. You do not go off on your own, thinking it will be OK by me.”

“Do you understand me?”

Her head was bowed, and faintly I heard a whispered reply ‘Yes Mistress.”

“Now take your jeans off and get out into the play room.” I demanded.

And she did. We left her clothes there. She walked naked out to where her next lesson would be held.

I threw the fly swatter on the kitchen sink, as we passed it.

When out in the playroom I told her to go to the cross in the corner. She did immediately. I fastened her wrists and then her ankles to each post, she was fixed at all four points. She couldn’t see what I was getting from the cabinets. The cane was 3 foot long and thin, very whippy.

I went over and put on two pieces of music I told her, the first piece was Ravel’s Bolero, a favorite piece both to build into a crescendo and its length. The second was an old Australian music classic from the late Chrissy Amphlett and the Divinyls. Pleasure and Pain. I knew that if I timed it right, and I would, she would be broken in one night. That was my resolve.

I dimmed the lights which were positioned so they would cast a shadow onto the wall in front of her. Making me larger than I was. The whole purpose was a mind game, but not to torture, no never to torture. But she must learn to be a good sub, and a good sub does not make errors or embarrass their Mistress. She had done both that day.

The music was quiet, as I drew the end of the cane across her body, watching her little movements. The twitching, as I ran it up the back of her leg, then just as the music took a little upbeat I flicked her inner thigh, she stretched her back as best she could. The music became a little louder and my first full stroke struck her across her right buttock cheek. I heard her take in a deep breath. Still no sound from her.

As the music started to build in both momentum and volume my strokes increased in strength and frequency. Alternating between each cheek and each thigh.

She was crying audibly now, but she didn’t cry out in pain. Bolero was building to its climax, so I stepped behind her and felt her tight core. She was wet, so very wet.

I whispered into her ear. “It isn’t over yet.”

Stepping back and in keeping with the music which was building up into the crescendo, I increased the frequency of my strokes. I turned the volume up further

My strokes became stronger and each stroke now was leaving a deep red groove in her backside. Her sobbing was loud but she would not cry out for me to stop. A small butt plug was waiting for her, smaller than the one I first used on her, but it had been a short time since she had been plugged, I was aware of that, the lubrication was applied to both her rear end and the plug, and when the finale of the cymbals crashed I inserted the plug forcibly. She screamed this time.

Then the Divinyls. “There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain,” the singer sang, but it was more one of abuse than training.

The burst from the speakers so loud, this time I was using a leather riding crop. Across her calves.

I turned the music down, but the lights up. I could see the redness on her body. I was proud of my work. Even more proud of the way she had withstood the caning. I started to remind her of where she went wrong. “Do not flirt with strangers.” Then a slap across her legs. “Do not question your Mistress.” Another across her other leg, not gentle little slaps, but forceful ones. “Do not disobey your Mistress.” Yet another slap. “Do not give your Mistress black looks.” Another slap. “And the more you defy me, the more often these lessons will continue.” I slapped her again with my open hand, leaving a red hand print in her ass cheek.

“No Mistress please stop Mistress, Angels My Mistress Angels. I am so sorry, I won’t Mistress.” She screamed at me.

“Won’t what Michelle, what won’t Escort in dubai you do again?” I asked as I was about to delivered another slap higher up her leg, when I too remembered what Angels meant. She screamed yet again. Begging me to stop, even though I hadn’t slapped her.

“I won’t let you down Mistress, please stop. Please, please I’m so sorry Mistress. Angels, Angels” In my heart I felt for her, she couldn’t find the words I was looking for.

I stopped. The music had finished. I turn the lights up to full.

“Do you understand me know?” I asked of her.

Through her sniveling and crying I got a faint yes Mistress, a broken voice. One of submission. I stood behind her closely, I put my hands in her hair and gently massaged her head. She was crying, deep in pain. I could feel the heat coming from her welts.

I keep a jar of antiseptic cream in my playroom. Just for this sort of occasion. I applied it to all of her bright red marks. Soothing, cooling creams. I knew that as soon as I released her wrists she would fall, I untied her legs first, easing them together. Leaving the butt plug in place as I also knew that it would also help.

I untied one wrist and held her up. I could see her eyes were closed and red through crying. I positioned myself so when I released her other wrist she would fall over my shoulder. And she did.

She was still sobbing when I put her in her own bed. Telling her to sleep and to wait for me to come and get her in the morning.

Again I walked away from her sobbing. Turned off her light closed her door. Then lent back against it. Breathing deeply. Listening to her cry. It had to be done I told myself. She has to learn.

In the morning, I woke early, not a good night sleep. I got up attended to my morning routines. Made certain I had a house coat on and done up.

I walked towards the kitchen, Michelle’s door was ajar, I looked in, her bed empty. As I walked towards the kitchen I heard her shower and I approached her bathroom, I knocked on the door. “Come in Mistress” said a cheerful voice.

I looked into the shower but the steam hid everything. “How are you feeling?” I asked her.

“Still a little sore Mistress, but thank you for helping me understand what it will take to please you. I won’t let you down again, ever.” She told me.

Part of me wanted to jump into the shower with her, clothes and all, hug her, kiss her and tell how I really felt. But as soon as the thought passed through me I regained control and told her “we shall see.”

“I’ll make us breakfast. I think you should wear one of those dresses we bought the other day for you, that way it won’t rub on your backside so much.”

“Yes Mistress.”

I sat as we ate breakfast, Michelle preferred to stand, she asked of me. I said of course.

“We need to plan out your work schedule. Are you on good terms with your former Mistress?” I enquired.

“Oh yes Mistress. Contacting her will not be a problem. I could do that today if you wished?” She asked. I nodded and smiled at her.

“What about those letters?” I asked.

“Also I could start today. If I may use a computer, it won’t take me so long.” She told me.

“We should get you a laptop or a tablet I think. What would you prefer?”

“A tablet I think would be better, as long as we can connect to the internet, I will be fine.” She informed me. “But it will need to, how do you say fort et puissant, [strong and powerful] like you Mistress.”

I smiled at her ” Flattery will get you everywhere Michelle. We will get one this morning and set you up.” I told her. I was pleasantly surprised by how compliant she was, considering how her punishment had started.

I could see a new beginning on our horizon.

The next few weeks became hectic. They flew passed at a rate of knots. So many changes within our family. Terence and Cynthia had their dinner with Mia and Emily, and were pleasantly surprised by how charming and witty Mia was, they saw firsthand how much in love they were.

Miriam, after some begging on Emily’s part and a little blackmail, let Mia sleep over, only when it was absolutely necessary.

Emily had come to accept that she had a big part to play in both the history and future of our family. She matured a little with that knowledge.

Cynthia in fact reached out to me, for the benefit of Miriam and Emily. She thought that we two older heads should at least become more civil and less brusque. We even shared some time over a drink. I asked her what she thought of Mia, as a person.

“She is quite charming, and she has Emily captivated. But not sure they could be happy together ‘for ever after’ so to speak.” She told me.

“Why not Cindy?” I asked directly, without being too rude.

She rolled her eyes at me. “Sooner or later one or both of them will want children.”

“Like me you mean.” We ended our discussion there. And moved on to more pleasant matters.

“Have you wondered what that wine will taste like?” She asked me.

“Are you kidding, Dubai Escorts that’s all I think about of late. A twelve thousand dollar bottle of desert wine, I wonder what desert you would have with it? I think more than just a bowl of ice cream.” We both laughed at the thought.

“Where is everything with that?” she asked of me.

“Well, Jen Halloran seems to think that procession is nine tenths of the law or something. In other words it is ours. But she is asking some questions about the time limits. In the letter from the French Government of the day they gifted them to this Amalie woman, and somehow it came into procession of Mary Ambrose. Who knows?”

“I get nervous with all the work going on there with tradesmen and who knows wandering around the place. If a bottle goes missing I’ll be rather annoyed.” I explained.

“Have we insured it yet?” She asked.

“Yes, but I am thinking we are going to have to move it out of there soon, just waiting on Jen to come back to us with a more positive response.”

“It seems complicated. I’m glad you are looking after it Kathy, you really are the right person to fix it. What about this club of yours?”

“Well it isn’t so much my club as the families club.” I told her.

“Oh yes, of course. But how will I feel being part of it?” She asked rather shyly.

“That will be up to you. I don’t intend to ask personal questions of members. So if you want to become a member, spend time away from Terence at some point, then it can be just as much a place for you as any other woman.” I told her.

“Not too sure watching other women cuddling and coupling is my idea of a quiet place to spend some time.” She replied.

I laughed. “Where did you get that idea from Cindy?”

“Well isn’t it going to be some sort of lesbian hangout?” she asked bluntly.

“Quite possibly, but I am also certain other women will want a safe place to relax and not be hassled by men wanting to buy them drinks and impose themselves onto them.” I explained.

“What’s the difference between a lecherous man or a lecherous female?” She asked.

“We are more discerning and can take no for an answer.” I replied with a smile

“You’re not lecherous are you Kathy?”

“Depends on who you ask, but the point I’m making is that it is neither one thing nor another, but what I can tell you this, we need a place where women can go and be themselves, away from others who want to ‘pigeon hole’ them.”

“You mean from people like me?” She said.

“I didn’t say that, nor did I mean you.” I said as I reached out across the table to pat her hand.

She smiled at me and we held hands sympathizing with each other.

“I can’t promise I will ever agree or accept your lifestyle, and I am genuine in my belief that I think Emily would be happier with a man, if she only gives one a chance.” She told me.

“Well Emily is as happy as she has ever been, and I say we can thank Mia for that. Surely we can’t ask for anything more? Maybe there is a reason she hasn’t given a man a chance, maybe she knows one can’t ever measure up to what she already has?” I said with a grin.

We smiled at each other. For the first time in almost 20 years my sister in law and I had a decent chat without bitching at each other. I gave her a warm hug and she to me, we were about to say our good-byes when I had a flash of an idea.

“Cindy, why don’t you come have a look at what we are doing down there. You can get a feel for it. See what we are always talking about.” I said to her.

She looked at her wrist watch, weighed something up in her head and said, “Yes why not.”

She took out her mobile phone, made a call telling someone called Myrtle that she couldn’t make her appointment.

She then did something she hadn’t done since, well I can’t remember. She looped her arm through mine as we walked down Commercial road to Black Diamond corner.

I told her to be careful, “You’ll get a bad reputation hanging out with a known lesbian like me.”

“Hah.” She replied. “I doubt anybody even suspects your gay Kathleen. You are the most unlikely lesbian I have ever known.”

“Know a few lesbian then do you?” I asked with a laugh.

“Oh you would be shocked and surprised who I know, especially the married ones.” She said with a grin.

I was surprised by how quickly our differences were patched up. Twenty years of bad blood and bad words washed away in 3 weeks.

When we got to number 7, the place was alive with people. There was a builder’s fence along the front of the building stopping anyone gaining entry. A note telling us to see the site supervisor one M. De Lombardo a mobile number and directions to the site office. The site office was a transportable building placed in the carpark at the rear of
, which also prevented anyone just wondering in off the street.

I knocked on the door and walked straight in, Mia was at her desk looking over some plans, with a tall burly man, scruffy, wearing a hard hat, a Hi Vis vest with site foreman on it.

Emily was seated at another desk talking on the phone. Deep in thought. Mia looked up smiled and waved us over. Introduced us to the foreman, “Michael Ritter this Kathleen and Cynthia Ambrose,” he nodded, said hello, rolled up the drawings excused himself.

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