Tate McRae

Mistress Zelda sat in her office, enjoying her first cup of expertly brewed coffee as she looked out the window at the gardens below. What she saw was a sea of colors. Deep reds, bright, sunny yellows, stark whites, both pale and dark lavenders, brilliant oranges, and stunning pinks. The flowers swayed ever so gently in the steady breeze, making it look as if they were moving on a gently rolling green sea. Her eyes move across the garden, following the winding path through the gardens to her pool. She took a long sip of her coffee as her eyes settled on the water, which glistened in the early morning light.

“I should go for a swim later, if I have time,” she thought as she swivelled her luxurious Italian leather office chair around until she faced her desk. She set her mug down and looked at the journal on her desk that served as her appointment book. It was a large, thick journal bound in dark brown leather. The front cover featured a picture of two crossed swords behind a kite shield, done in gold stitching. The two swords and the upper left and lower right portions of the shield were completely colored in by the gold stitching; the other two portions were left as the brown leather. A white silk ribbon that was attached to the journal served as a bookmark, already marking the current day.

She opened the journal and looked at her first appointment for the day. At the top of the page was the name, Tate McRae, highlighted in yellow, indicating it would be the singer, songwriter, and dancer’s first visit to Mistress Zelda’s dungeon, and she was due to arrive shortly. She finished her coffee, stood, and left her office. She made her way through the upper halls of her mansion as she opened her email on her phone. She quickly double-checked that Tate had electronically filed all of the necessary documents. A smile came to her face as she saw that they were. As she placed her phone back into the inner lapel pocket of her suit jacket, she made her way down the elegant staircase to the first floor and turned to head to her dungeon.

Once in her dungeon, she turned on the lights, bathing the room in a dim, orange-gold light that gave the room its warm, yet intimidating appearance. As she crossed the dungeon, she took a deep, slow breath in through her nose, enjoying the intoxicating, heady scent of the freshly-oiled leather. She stopped at a section of the wall, directly to the left of her throne. She gently pulled down on an antique wrought-iron candleabra. A soft click filled the air, and Mistress Zelda pushed against the wall holding the candelabra, causing it to swing back smoothly on its hidden hinges and reveal a large walk-in closet filled with outfits made of latex and leather.

A short time later, a black town car eased to a stop in the cobblestone driveway. The driver, a tall, powerfully built African-American man, stepped out and opened the door. “We’re here, Miss McRae,” he said, his deep, powerful, yet gentle baritone voice causing Tate’s chest to rumble slightly.

Tate stepped out of the car and looked up at the Gothic mansion that was Mistress Zelda’s home. The massive structure was both beautiful and intimidating. “Wow, is this place a fortress, or a home?” she thought as she turned her attention to the man who had driven her here from her hotel. “Thanks for the lift,” she said with a nervous smile.

“My pleasure, Miss McRae,” the man said with a slight nod of his head.

Tate swallowed nervously as she gave herself one last lookover. She was dressed casually in a yellow T-shirt that fit her relatively loosely, denim jeans, and black sneakers. Her long brown hair hung down freely, cascading over her shoulders like strands of silk, the blonde highlights catching and shining in the sun. She took her first step toward the mansion. With each step she took, it felt like her feet were weighed down by concrete. She had heard several rumors about Mistress Zelda and the things she did to famous women. She still wasn’t sure why she had reached out to the dominatrix, and now wasn’t sure if she regretted it or not.

After what seemed like ages to the starlet, she reached the large double doors that served as the entrance to the fortress-like home. She took a moment to look for a doorbell. Finding none, she took the decorative knocker in hand and gently struck it against the door. Her heart began to race, and she could feel her ears throb with each rapid and thunderous beat. After only a few seconds, which seemed like an eternity to Tate, the left door swung open, and she was greeted by the sight of another brunette woman dressed as a French Maid with a very short skirt.

“Good morning, Miss McRae. Please come in,” the maid said warmly as she stepped aside and motioned Tate in with her free hand.

“Thank you, um..” Tate said as she stepped into the foyer of the mansion and took a quick look around. “This place is something else,” she thought as she took in the large room. It was left largely open, with a few end tables placed around the room holding plants, pictures, and other small decorations. She looked up at the large crystal chandelier that was casting warm light in the large room.

“Carlie, Miss McRae,” the maid said as she closed the door with a gentle click.

“Thank you, Carlie,” Tate said with a polite nod.

“Please, come with me,” Carlie said as she began to walk through the foyer and into a long hallway, her heels clicking against the polished hardwood floor. “I hope the ride from your hotel was a comfortable one.”

“Very.”

“Good, Mistress Zelda will be pleased to hear it. Speaking of,” Carlie said, looking over her shoulder at Tate without breaking her stride. “The mistress has tasked me with making sure you understand the procedure. At the end of this hall is, for lack of a better name, a waiting room. You will wait there until Mistress Zelda signals she is ready for you by turning off the red light above her dungeon door and turning on the green one. When she does, you will knock and wait until given permission to enter. Once inside, you are to strip completely naked and place your clothes and any other belongings you have in the large storage tote.”

“Right, then I kneel in front of her, tell her I am here for punishment, then ask for the warm-up spanking. Do I have that right?”

“Very nearly, Miss McRea. You ask for your warm-up spanking, not a or the warm-up spanking.”

“Thanks for letting me know, Carlie,” Tate said as they came to the end of the hallway and entered the spacious waiting room.

“My pleasure, Miss McRae. Please, have a seat,” Carlie said as she motioned to the many leather chairs and love seats that were placed neatly around the room. When Tate sat in the nearest seat, Carlie made her way to one of the two closed doors in the room, the one with the aforementioned lights above it, and pressed a button on the intercom unit by the door. “Mistress, Miss McRae has arrived and is in the waiting room.”

“Thank you, Carlie. I will see her shortly.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Carlie said before she walked out of the waiting room through the open archway that they had come through.

“What did I get myself into?” Tate silently wondered as she watched the lights above the door. She suddenly realized that her lips were dry, and she nervously began to lick them. As she did, all of the whispered rumors she had heard began running wild in her head. “I already know I’m going to be spanked,” the thought. “Carlie confirmed that, but what else is going to happen to me here?” she silently wondered, as she continued to watch the pair of lights above the door. Half of her was dreading when the green light would come on, and the other half of her willed it to change in a strange form of curiosity.

She didn’t have to wait long. The light changed, and she stood with a speed and determination that surprised her. She strode over to the door and knocked three times. “Enter,” Mistress Zelda’s voice sounded through the intercom. With a nervous sigh, Tate slowly turned the doorknob and entered the dominatrix’s domain.

What she saw amazed her: the darkly colored hardwood floor, matching bondage furniture, and the black leather on top of it seemed to both darkly reflect the warm lighting of the dungeon as well as swallow it whole. She stopped, her heart racing with nervous anticipation. The sound of the door automatically closing behind her startled her as if it were a gunshot. Her eyes settled on Mistress Zelda. The dominatrix sat calmly on her throne, her long brown hair now styled into a tight bun with not a single strand of hair out of place. She wore a short, tight-fitting red latex dress that hugged her curves as if it had been purposely sculpted to her body, stopping at her mid-thigh. Completing her outfit was a pair of black knee-high leather boots with platform heels. The dominatrix said nothing to her; she merely stared at her expectantly.

Tate glanced to her left and saw the large tote where she was expected to place her clothing and other belongings. “Here we go,” she thought as she lifted her shirt over her head, revealing her black lace bra. As she continued to strip off her clothing, she showed a matching lace thong before leaving herself completely naked. Despite her nervousness, Tate strode to Mistress Zelda with the grace of a highly experienced dancer that she is. “Mistress Zelda, I am here for my punishment.”

Mistress Zelda smiled at Tate. The young starlet moved and knelt with more grace than several clients who had seen the strict disciplinarian many times. “I see you’ve properly shaved yourself, that is good,” Mistress Zelda said in a flat tone that sent a shiver down Tate’s spine, and made her blush. The dominatrix stood, made her way to the large and beautiful armour, pulled open one of the narrow drawers, and pulled out a dark red leather collar. “From now on, you will obey me and address me only as ‘Mistress Zelda,’ or ‘Mistress.’ Is that understood, Tate?” she asked as she fastened the collar around Tate’s neck.

“Yes, Mistress Zelda.”

“Good,” the dominatrix said before walking over to where a straight-backed chair sat. She picked up the chair, carried it back over to Tate, and placed it between the young starlet and her throne before sitting on it. “Well?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at the kneeling beauty.

Tate took a breath in and then let it out shakily. “Mistress Zelda, may I have my warm-up spanking?” she asked, her voice wavering with nervousness.

“The proper way to ask, Tate is, ‘Mistress Zelda, may I please be placed over your lap for my warm-up spanking?’”

Tate’s entire body turned red with embarrassment. “Mistress Zelda, may I please be placed over your lap for my warm-up spanking?

“Crawl next to me and get over my lap,” Mistress Zelda said as she patted her lap. “Head pointed that way,” she added, pointing to her left with her left hand.

“Yes, Mistress Zelda.” With deliberate movements, Tate crawled to the dominatrix’s side before climbing over the other woman’s lap.

“Slide forward more, Tate. I want your ass nice and high.”

“Yes, Mistress Zelda,” Tate said as she inched herself forward on Mistress Zelda’s lap.

“That’s good right there,” the strict disciplinarian said when Tate’s toned ass was at a height to her liking. “Whenever I have you over my lap, this is how I want you.”

“Yes, Mistress Zelda.” Tate flinched when she felt the dominatrix’s hand glide over her fleshy globes. Then, without warning, the first stinging swat landed on her right ass cheek, causing the young woman to hiss through her teeth.

Swat after swat landed, quickly turning Tate’s flesh a bright pink. Each swat of Mistress Zelda’s hand landed with practiced precision, alternating between the cheeks. Most of the dominatrix’s swats landed on the fleshy curve of her lower cheeks, making Tate whine, whimper, and squirm. But occasionally, she would land one on the tender flesh of the backs of Tate’s sensitive upper thighs. These swats would make Tate’s entire body stiffen and cause her to cry out in pain.

“God, I hope I don’t regret this,” Tate thought as she felt Mistress Zelda’s hand glide over her stinging flesh in an almost soothing way.

“You took that very well, Tate,” Mistress Zelda said, her stern tone becoming somewhat softer. “That, and the way a young lady who has become very famous, such as yourself, has thus far not fallen into any bad habits. Kneel in front of me, and we will start your true punishment.” Tate stiffened slightly, and her breath hitched when she heard the words ‘true punishment.’

“Yes, Mistress Zelda,” she said as she slowly slid off of the other woman’s lap, and knelt before her as she had been ordered.

“When I lead you, you will crawl,” Mistress Zelda said, not waiting for a reply as she grabbed a fistful of Tate’s silky hair and led her over to a large wooden frame. “Stand here,” she said, pointing to the floor directly at the center of the wooden frame’s single overhead crossbeam. Tate wordlessly obeyed.

She said nothing as she watched the dominatrix begin preparing for what she had in mind. First, she buckled the leather cuff near Tate’s right foot around her ankle and making sure the chain that kept it attached to the frame was pulled tight. She then pressed a release for the chain attached to the cuff that would have been for the frame’s occupant’s right hand and pulled the hidden slackened chain through the frame and buckled the soft leather cuff around Tate’s left ankle. Next, she hit a second release on the chain placed at the upper right corner of the frame, this one allowing her to slide the chain and cuff along the overhead crossbeam, and lock it back into place over Tate’s head. She then removed the attached cuff and clipped the chain to the rear D-ring of Tate’s collar. After that, she went back to the armour to get a long black silk rope. She tied Tate’s wrists together with one end of the rope and tied the rest around Tate’s body in a way that created a makeshift bondage harness that framed and gently squeezed her breasts, around her toned stomach three times before being tied back off to her already bound wrists.

With Tate now bound as she desired, Mistress Zelda began to turn a small crank on the frame, causing Tate’s left foot to be slowly pulled up toward the corner of the frame. When Mistress Zelda stopped turning the crank, Tate was **** to stand on her right foot, with her left leg lifted high into the air, her long dancer’s legs pulled very nearly a full one hundred eighty degrees from one another, taking full advantage of her flexibility.

“Well, at least like this, I won’t be able to fall over,” Tate thought nervously as she watched the dominatrix as she again went to the armour. This time, she again opened one of the smaller drawers, and in the dim light, Tate’s eyes caught a brief glint of metal. When Mistress Zelda returned to her, she held a pair of nipple clamps in one hand. With her free hand, the skilled dominatrix began to caress Tate’s left breast, quickly causing her left nipple to stiffen with arousal.

“You know,” Mistress Zelda began as she slowly closed one of the clamps, the rubber-coated teeth biting into the sensitive nub, “it’s been some time since I’ve had a client who is flexible enough to be tied in such a beautiful and **** position,” she finished as she placed the other clamp over her right nipple.

“What does she have in mind?” Tate silently wondered as she watched the dominatrix cross the dungeon to two rows of hooks. The top row holds a selection of riding crops, and the lower row holds a selection of floggers. Mistress Zeldda grabbed a riding crop made of black leather and made her way back to the bound starlet.

“Do you know why I like tying clients that can handle being as you are in this position?” the dominatrix asked as she stood in front of Tate.

“No, Mistress Zelda,” Tate replied. Her eyes stayed focused on the riding crop as Mistress Zelda dragged the leather tab at the end of the long, rigid whip over the top curve of her right breast, then across to her left breast.

“Because it is a beautiful but stressful position, making it a punishment all on its own. However, it leaves you so **** to additional punishment,” she said as she moved the crop back over Tate’s breasts. “Your breasts,” she began before circling the helpless starlet until she was behind her, “your ass, inner thighs, and if you’re ever very naughty, your pussy is all open and **** to punishment,” she finished as she **** the crop over each of Tate’s **** areas. “Today I’ll leave your pussy alone, since, as I said, you’ve been remarkably well behaved. Your ass, breasts, and inner thighs, though, are fair game. We’ll start with this crop, then move to a flogger before we finish up. What do you say to that?” Mistress Zelda asked as she again moved the crop over Tate’s ass, making the fleshy globes quiver in anticipation.

“Whatever you think is best, Mistress Zelda,” Tate replied nervously.

“Clever girl,” Mistress Zelda said, clearly pleased with Tate’s reply as she slowly pulled the crop back from Tate’s ass.

With a swift motion, Mistress Zelda flicked the crop, and the leather tab connected with a stinging slap against the right cheek of Tate's ass. Tate gasped in surprise and arched her back involuntarily. She bit her lower lip, fighting the urge to vocalize her discomfort further.

"Good girl," Mistress Zelda purred, the hint of approval in her voice sending an unexpected shiver through Tate's body. "Now, let's see if we can't get you to stop tensing up for me."

Mistress Zelda continued to rain light slaps with the crop against Tate's quivering cheeks, alternating between cheeks and occasionally brushing the leather against her inner thighs. Tate's breath came in short gasps as she attempted to focus on the sensations rather than her growing arousal. Mistress Zelda must have sensed her inner turmoil, for the next slap landed squarely on her inner thigh, just to the left side of her sex, causing a moan to escape Tate's lips.

"That's better," Mistress Zelda purred, a touch of amusement in her voice. "It's okay to feel pleasure, Tate. In fact, I expect it."

Tate hesitated for a moment before letting out a shaky exhale. With each strike of the crop, she focused on the heat blooming across her skin instead of the sting. Each time the leather connected with her sensitive flesh, she allowed herself to feel the slow-burning pleasure creeping up her spine. Her moans increased in volume, her body arching into the sensation as her nipples ached with need.

"That's more like it," Mistress Zelda praised, her words sending shivers down Tate's spine. "Now let's see how you handle the flogger.

The crop was replaced by a soft leather flogger with multiple tails. Mistress Zelda began to brush the tips along Tate's exposed skin, tantalizing her from her shoulders down her back and over her bottom before moving to her inner thighs. Tate felt the anticipation building as the leather dance teased her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"Ready?" Mistress Zelda asked, holding the flogger above her.

Tate swallowed hard and steeled herself for the onslaught. "Y-yes, Mistress Zelda," she managed to **** out.

Mistress Zelda didn't wait for further instruction, bringing the flogger down on Tate's welcoming skin. The impact was different from the crop, more diffused but no less intense as the supple leather tendrils danced over Tate’s **** body. Her back, her ass, her inner thighs, her stomach, and her breasts. Mistress Zelda made the supple leather tendrils dance across Tate’s body. Sometimes, with light, glancing blows that made the supple leather brush against her skin, making every nerve tremble with anticipation. Other times, with an authoritative slap that echoed through the dungeon and made her cry out. The young starlet quickly realized that at the moment, her body was an instrument, an instrument that the skilled dominatrix could play with unmatched expertise.

Tate closed her eyes and softly whimpered as a teasingly hard lash of the flogger landed on her right inner thigh before brushing gently and rapidly over her stomach and breasts, the leather tentrils pulling teasingly at the thin chain connecting her breasts, causing a brief wave of pain to wash over her sensitive nipples. As Mistress Zelda continued to use the flogger to practically paint her body with the leather tendrils, pleasure and pain mixed in a way that Tate never thought possible. Time became meaningless to her as the supple leather teasingly brushed her skin, making her moan softly, or crashed against it with an echoing thwap that made her cry out in a sudden wave of oddly pleasurable pain.

Finally, she felt her leg being lowered to the ground, and when it made contact with the cool hardwood floor, the sensation of having both feet on the ground felt almost alien to her. She hissed in pain as Mistress Zelda removed the clamps from her nipples, and the blood flow returned to normal in her aching nubs. The chain connecting her collar to the overhead beam was removed, and then the cuffs holding her ankles were removed. As the dominatrix carefully untied the silken rope, freeing her from the last of her bondage, Tate couldn’t help but smile at the odd sense of warmth spreading over her body, reminding her of waking up in bed on a cool morning.

“Very good, Tate,” Mistress Zelda said praisingly as she stroked Tate’s long hair. “Kneel, and we’ll finish up.”

“Yes, Mistress Zelda,” Tate said, the warm silkiness in her voice nearly taking her by surprise as she carefully lowered herself to her knees.

“Come,” Mistress Zelda said as she grabbed Tate’s hair again. “It’s time I take you over to the writing room and explain what I expect of you now.”

“‘Writing room?’” Tate silently wondered as she began to crawl alongside the dominatrix as she led her out of the dungeon and across the waiting room to the other closed door she had seen.

Inside the new room was very little except for a beautiful antique writing desk with a small wooden bench seat tucked beneath it. On top of the desk was a single piece of paper, a small inkwell with an authentic writing quill near it. “You may use the restroom if you need,” Mistress Zelda’s voice said in a soothing tone that cut through Tate’s wonder like a hot knife through butter. She looked to the door that the dominatrix was motioning to. “Otherwise, I want you to write a letter promising continued good behavior, and a promise that if you feel the urge to misbehave, you will come see me. If I summon you here because I feel it has been too long since your last visit, or if I find out you have misbehaved, you will not find that visit as enjoyable as today’s. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Tate answered in an almost dreamy-sounding tone.

“Good girl. I don’t need anything super wordy, just something meaningful and honest. When you finish, you will kneel in that corner with your hands on the back of your head and your nose pressed into the corner. I will be back in one hour.”

Later, Tate was now redressed and stood in Mistress Zelda’s office as the dominatrix placed the letter she had written, along with the notes on her punishment that the dominatrix had taken, in a newly created file, which was then locked in a filing cabinet. She stood perfectly still, almost frightened to move, as Mistress Zelda looked at the available openings. “I have an opening in two months. Can you make that work?”

“I believe so, Mistress. I’ll have to check my schedule.”

“I’ll write you in for now. Check your schedule and let me know no later than next week.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“You are dismissed. Carlie should be waiting outside to show you out where your ride back to your hotel is waiting.”

“Thank you, Mistress Zelda.”