I am ready for my second date with Chase, the professional tennis player.

Entering the bistro, you look around and see Chase wave you over. He's with an older woman who looks at you with piercing, appraising eyes. She's wearing oversized glasses, is impeccably made up and has short, black hair.

"Hey, Jennifer," Chase says, holding the chair for you like a gentleman. "I'd like for you to meet my mother."

HIS MOTHER?? OH FUCK!!

"H-h-hi!" you stammer, suddenly panicking. He never said his mother would be here!

"It's such a pleasure to meet you," she says, smoothly.

"Oh, ah... you too!"

You awkwardly hold out your hand to shake but she pointedly ignores it. Humiliated, you let your hand drop to your side.

"Well, I can tell you two are going to get along just fine!" Chase says, chipper and oblivious. "Jennifer, I'm so sorry, but I need to head out to do some press interviews before the charity tournament."

You sputter your shock as Chase kisses you and then trots out the door, leaving you with...

... the mother-in-law.

"Well, you're certainly beautiful enough," she say, looking you up and down. "And those tits, fake, I presume? No matter, I'm sure Chase will love them."

"Oh, uh..." you stare at her, shocked that she's appraising you like a prize mare.

"I am Chase's business manager. I have ever since he first started taking tennis lessons. I manage every aspect of his life."

"That must be a lot of work," you murmur, completely bowed by this strong woman before you.

"You have no idea," she snorts. "It's an entire business that I'm managing. And you're a critical part of that business, because I've discovered Chase plays better when he has someone to play for. Someone specific. Someone... female."

Her eyes pierce into you.

"Meeee?" your voice comes out as a pre-pubescent squeak.

"Maybe. It depends. I need someone who will follow orders. *My* orders. Without question. Will that be you?"

I started to squirm. What she was saying was starting to turn me on.

"I... I don't know."

"April told me you were submissive at heart. Are you submissive?"

"Yes, I am {I am submissive}% submissive," you say, squirming some more.

"I think we need to do a test," she says.

"A test? What sort of test?"

"Hold out your hands, palms up."

You do as instructed, your hands starting to shake. Already you can feel your eyes start to water.

Mrs. Chamberlain pulls out a what looked like a fat silver pen. Grabbing the tip she extends it into a metal whipping rod.

"Oh...!" you gasp, you feel your nipples tingle. Your hands are shaking a lot right now.

"That's right, dear," says Mrs. Chamberlain. "Hold out your hands for everyone in the restaurant to see and don't move them until I tell you to. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mrs. Chamberlain," you whimper.

"Oh, very good. Already using my proper name," she says. Then, with her arm and a flick of her wrist, delivers a slicing stroke across your palms.

OH, FUCK! IT HURTS!!!!!

You'd never felt such pain in your life! Immediately, tears spring to your eyes and you twitch your hands as if to pull them away, but somehow through some super-human effort, you are able to keep them in-place.

People in the restaurant are whispering and staring at you.

"Very good, Jennifer," Mrs. Chamberlain says. "Perhaps you *are* the right one for Chase." She gently tabs your hands with the rod. "Now, do you know what I'm going to do next?"

"Yes," you admit, still holding your hands out. "You're going to hit me again."

"That's right," she says. "And you are going to keep your hands right where they are, even though you know what's coming, won't you?"

"Yes, Ma'am," you say, **** down a sob.

She uses a longer stroke this time and delivers a second, vicious swipe.

"Ahhhhh....!!!" you whimper, a soft keening sound coming from you as you absorb the horrible pain in your palms.

"Excellent," Mrs. Chamberlain purrs. "By doing as you're told, not only does that show me just how much you want to be Chase's fuck bunny, but also how much you're willing to submit to me, his mother and manager. After all, no other self respecting woman would submit to being punished in this way, in public, by her future mother in law, would she?"

"No, Mrs. Chamberlain," you admit.

"Each stroke demonstrates who's in charge, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Mrs. Chamberlain."

"And who is in charge, Jennifer?"

"You are. Mrs. Chamberlain."

"That's right. Now keep your hands exactly where they are."

She pulls back and slashes your palms a third time. You can't help but to cry out this time, the pain is so bad. There are now three angry red slashes across your palms. Tears start running down your cheeks and dripping on to the bodice of your tight, pink dress.

"Oh, you poor dear," she says, placing a hand on your cheek, she leans in and gives you a kiss, full on the lips. "It won't all be pain and suffering. I'll make sure you have lots of pleasure and sexy fun with Chase. You'd like that, won't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," you say.

"I just need to be 100% certain that you are mine to control. You are a nice obedient girl, Jennifer."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And who do you obey?"

"You, Ma'am."

"That's right. I want you to fear me, but I also want your respect. Everything I do is for Chase. Even this. You'll see. Now will you obey me without question? Say it."

"Yes, Ma'am. I will obey you without question."

"Are you fully under my control? Say it."

"Yes, Ma'am. I am fully under your control."

Oh god... now you are really starting to squirm. Why is this making you so horny? What is wrong with you? Mrs. Chamberlain sees this in your eyes.

"You *are* naturally submissive. April was right. Now, would you like another stroke to teach you who is your superior?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Ask for it," she says, mercilessly.

"Please, Ma'am. Give me another stroke so that I may learn that you are my superior."

"Hold out your hands, very good. You willingly hold out your hands to receive pain from your superior. That is very good, Jennifer. I will be very strict. I will be very demanding. And yet you willingly place yourself under my control. With this stroke we will cement your proper place in our relationship."

She pulls back as far as she can and strokes your hand with the metal rod. You stifle a cry as much as you can, but it's no good. You whimper and sob, still holding your hands in place.

You feel broken. You feel reduced. You feel humbled and humiliated.

"Say 'thank you', Jennifer."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"Thank me for showing you your true place in this world."

"Thank you, Ma'am, for showing me my true place in this world."

"Very good, Jennifer. Now, let's blow this joint. We have a lot of work to do."