Zombie Powder

They met at a restaurant in Potomac, Maryland for the first time in real life, but it started on the Internet. They exchanged postings for a while, and then Jane finally decided to take the plunge. He had written her stories of mind control, bondage, punishment and humiliation, very erotic stories which both frightened and aroused her.

Jane had her doubts. Could she go through with this, undress in front of a group of total strangers, expose her body, let them punish or humiliate her, do things which would make her feel uncomfortable. It would be for their enjoyment, because Denis demanded this of her. It was more than that, she knew. Down deep, Jane would enjoy the undressing, the punishment, and the humiliation. She knew he would take control, first of her mind, and then her body. The secret slut was wet with desire just thinking of the possibilities of what would after she had given up complete control.

Jane had come by plane. Denis sent her a discount ticket to Dulles International Airport.

"Take a taxi. Tell the driver to cross the American Legion Bridge into Maryland."

"The rest is very easy," he said. Then the instructions: "Get off the Beltway at the second exit and follow the signs out River Road to Potomac. Before the fourth light will be a small shopping center on your right. Have the driver pull into parking lot. There is only one restaurant, The Hunters Inn. Look for my car, a white Mercedes. It's not the latest S-model, or the one Princess Di was riding in, but the model before that."

It was a long flight, and Jane was tired by the time it was over. She had no trouble finding a taxi, and had told Denis the time her plane was scheduled to land at IAD.

"You have 90 minutes from touchdown to get there. Don't be late," he warned.

Jane worried there would be weather related problems, or heavy air traffic in the Washington area, but the sky was clear all the way, and she arrived on time. She didn't want to be late. Denis had warned her that she would receive EXTRA punishment for tardiness. The big white car was in the parking lot. She paid the driver, and he helped her with her suitcase, as far as the front door of the restaurant.

It took a fair amount of courage to open the door and walk in. Would he be there at all? She recognized him from the photo on his web site. He was sitting in the restaurant where he said he would be, in a booth in the back, on the left, his back to the wall. Jane was self-conscious as she walked to his table.

He stood up as she approached. "Hi, I'm Denis. You must be ..."

There was a long pause as he checked her figure. She had sent him a copy of her college graduation photo. She didn't have to tell him she was a pudgy brunette in her mid 20s, 5'4", about 135 pounds. In real life, she barely filled a B-cup bra and her hair was stringy. Jane couldn't help blushing as he inspected her figure.

Denis continued quickly, "Plain Jane." That hurt, but she knew it was true. And then his winning smile.

She smiled back.

"Yes, I guess I am 'Plain Jane'."

"Please sit down. A drink? I've ordered a bottle of white wine, but whatever you like."

"The wine will be fine,"

They talked for a while. She was very new to this, mind control, dominance and submission. She really didn't know where to begin. So he told her about his experiences, how he had gotten into spanking and bondage, and then much later, mind control games. That he understood different women look for different types of experience.

"My role is to satisfy your fantasy," Denis told her. "If I can do that, it will satisfy both of us."

"And your enjoyment?" she asked.

"Don't worry about me. I'm sure I'll find ways to enjoy myself."

At one point Jane excused herself to go to the ladies' room. That was when Denis slipped the Zombie Powder into her wine glass. They talked for a while longer, sipping their wine.

Finally, Denis asked, "Are you ready to do this?'

Jane hesitated. She felt fine when she entered the restaurant, but now a strange sensation had come over her. "I'm not sure. I feel funny. Did you put something in my drink?"

"Why would I do that that? I don't need to drug you to get you to obey me." There was a firmness in this man's voice that both frightened and aroused her.

"Yes, I think I am." Jane was still hesitant, torn by inner conflict.

"Yes, Master, is the correct response. Say it. Tell me you will obey me."

"Yes, Master, I will obey you."

"Good. Before we go, I have one request, something that you need to do."

Denis handed Jane a small package, ordered her to open it. She did as instructed. Then she was confused. The package contained a collar. She knew about it from their conversations. It was black, but not the sexy black leather she had seen in bondage photos. It was a plain black dog's collar with a plated leash ring and a quick release mechanism. He had told her she would have to wear it when they were playing, mostly in private, but sometimes in public places.

"Now put this on, here, in the restaurant," Denis order. "Before we leave. I know a slut like you likes to be on display."

"Don't make me do this, please, not here. I'll put it on in the car."

"We haven't left the restaurant, and you're already being disobedient?" Do I have to humiliate you in public, make you stand up and unbutton your blouse and show your tits, what little you have of them, to the entire restaurant? I command you to put on the collar."

Jane hesitated. A tear started to form at the corner of one eye as the Zombie Powder kicked in and took full effect.

"Please, Master, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disobey you. Please help me adjust my collar."

Denis stood behind her, helped her adjust the collar. She tried turning the collar around so that the plated ring was in back, under her hair, but he wouldn't let her. He held the collar firmly with one hand. With the other he grasped her ear lobe, pinched it, and squeezed very hard.

"Ouch."

Then he whispered in her ear, "Now listen and listen very carefully, you silly little bitch. We're not in the District – not Adams Morgan or Capital Hill, but some of the people here are very hip. They've already guessed you're my submissive, that this is a power test and that I'm going to take you home and beat you for misbehaving in public. They know I'll win, and they KNOW you'll get your ass whipped when I get you home. The idea that this is embarrassing is in your head, not theirs. And I think it turns you on to be displayed this way, being humiliated like this. So do WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO. OBEY ME."

Jane stopped resisting. She knew everything Denis said was true, so she left the leash ring in front, clearly visible. And he was right. She did enjoy being on display, letting people know that she was a slut, totally submissive to this man she met less than an hour before. Her pussy was very wet and she was glad she was wearing panties. She didn't think she could handle, right just now, the additional embarrassment of pussy juice running down her thigh.

"Now take your bag and follow me to my car."

All resistance had drained from her body. Her mind was on auto-pilot. All he had to do was command, and she knew she had to obey.

The car was a big white Mercedes, and he drove slowly and carefully. At his house the garage door opened as he pulled into the drive.

"Show time," Denis announced. "Time for you to get out and drag your sorry ass up to the front door. They're all expecting you, you know."

Jane forced herself to open the car door - to climb out and close the heavy car door. She watched as Denis parked in the empty slot. There was another Mercedes, a blue sedan, in the garage, and a Mercedes roadster in the drive. It was all very different from the economy cars, SUVs and station wagons of her friends and neighbors.

Her feet felt like lead, she had to push herself forward. But she knew she had to OBEY. Jane managed to walk up to the door. It took a little more courage to ring the bell, and before she had time to turn and run, the door opened.

The woman standing at the door was over six feet tall, reed thin, dressed in black jeans and a black tank top. Probably in her late 30s. It was hard to tell how tall she really was with the high Doc Martens she was wearing. Not much tit, Jane thought to herself. But the woman's nipples were hard and clearly visible through the cotton material.

"Hi, I'm Margaret. I see that you're wearing the collar, that you've come to play. I belong to Denis, and Rachel inside belongs to Marco. Tonight you belong to all of us. Sometimes Denis calls me 'Peggy', but you're not allowed. Slip up and I'll punish you for it."

Then Margaret called out loudly "The new submissive slut is here!"

Jane started to turn around, to look for a cab to get her out of here, to go back to Dulles airport to wait for the next plane home. But before she could, Margaret reached up and grasped the collar, pulled her very close, leaned down and kissed her on the lips. There was a hint of tongue and Jane wondered what it would be like to have sex with another woman, wondered what it would be like to have another woman touch and kiss her tits and suck on her exceptionally long, dark brown nipples.. Jane also wondered if she would be made to kiss the other woman's cunt.

Putting her lips very close to the Jane's ear, Margaret whispered very softly, "You're my special treat tonight. I know you're curious. Now get your ass in there right now, or I'll kick the living shit out of you right here on the door step."

The thin woman wasn't wearing a bra, didn't have much tit. If Denis liked women with small breasts; maybe Jane had a chance? It made her feel kind of funny, looking at the woman's nipples - hard and pointy and clearly visible through the thin cotton material.

In a daze, the Jane dragged herself into the house. "Down the steps to the left" Margaret called as Jane walked past, and slapped her on the ass.

Two steps down from the foyer was large room, maybe 24 by 30 feet, and very informal. The far wall was floor to ceiling brick, a seating bench across the bottom, a fire place built in. On the side by the steps the wall was floor to ceiling dark oak, built in bar, cabinets, shelves for books. The ceiling was higher than normal, maybe 12 feet. Dark oak beams and track spot lights.

Jane went down the steps, took two steps into the room, and paused. Denis was already there, standing near the fire place. He must have come directly from the garage. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, she though to herself. Again, Jane though of going home, but at that moment, she couldn't get her mind around it. She felt like she was in a waking trance. Did he drug her back in the restaurant? Margaret's firm hands were on her shoulders.

"Introduce yourself," Denis commanded.

"Hello, I'm ..., I'm ..."

"Don't be shy, sweetie," the man seated on the sofa called out. "There are no secrets here."

"I'm Jane ... " was all she could stammer.

"Con mucho gusto. I'm Marco," he said with a smile. "And the slave in the corner is my wife, Rachel."

Jane shifted her gaze, followed Marco's eyes to the woman standing with her nose pressed up against the wall, hands on top of her head.

"Rachel has been very clumsy this evening, broke some of Denis's most excellent crystal. I'll beat her for that in a moment. She is now reflecting on her carelessness, her clumsiness, waiting for you to arrive. Rachel wants you to see how a well trained submissive takes the cane. Aren't we, mi amor?" he called to Rachel, and smiled again.

From the back, it was hard to tell Rachel's age. All Jane could see was the woman's back, her very shapely legs and ass, waist length blonde hair worn in a braid, a very tight black skirt, white silk blouse, dark stockings and very high heels.

This is loony tunes, Jane though to herself, these people can't be real. But she couldn't shake the heavy fog that was clouding her brain, taking away all her will to resist. Then Denis asked if she would like to sit down, to have a drink.

"Please, nothing to drink," she said as she sat in a low leather chair.

Denis ignored her request. "Margaret, fix our guest a very large cranberry juice cocktail. Use the 16 ounce glass. We don't want OUR GUEST to be thirsty. No alcohol however - we don't want to deaden Plain Jane's senses."

A moment later Margaret brought Jane the the glass on a small sterling serving tray. It was very heavy crystal and Jane picked it up carefully. She didn't want to join Rachel in the corner.

The choice was curious, but then Jane remembered. When she was in the hospital for tests the year before, they gave the woman in the next bed cranberry juice to help her pee. The thought crossed Jane's mind that the drink was prepared before she arrived. Just add ice and serve. He was doing this to embarrass her, to force her to lose control and her wet herself before the entire group. And Denis had planned it in advance.

Jane took a sip of the juice. "I'm really not thirsty," Jane started to protest, but her heart wasn't in it.

"Your drink. Finish your drink, please, so we can get started. We don't want to keep our lovely Rachel waiting much longer. My guess is that her pussy is already dripping wet by now, just thinking about the beating she's going to get."

Jane started to protest again, "please, no, I'm not really thirsty."

"Finish your fucking drink. Now!" Denis ordered.

For the first time, Jane was frightened. "Please don't make me wet myself. I don't want to pee in front of everyone," Jane pleaded.

"No. luv, not in front of everyone. This is something for just you and Peggy to enjoy. Something special for you two to share. It will help make you better friends. Now finish your fucking drink," Denis commanded.

"Yes, Sir." The Zombie Powder had taking complete control of her brain.

"Rachel, mi amor, turn around and show our Plain Jane how pretty you are," Marco ordered.

Rachel turned around slowly, lowered her hands from her head. The woman was in her late 30s, just under five feet tall, a tiny doll of a figure, perfectly shaped, stunningly beautiful. Even at this age, Rachel was still almost drop dead gorgeous. Then the ritual began.

First Rachel took off the wide black leather belt that held in her narrow waist. She unbuttoned the natural silk blouse, slowly, one pearl button at a time. She took off the blouse, folded it, put it over the back of a chair. Then she unzipped the skirt, stepped out of it, put in on the chair over the blouse. Her silk and lace half slip followed.

Rachel was wearing a tiny white lace bra, barely an A-cup, the straps set wide on the sides, with just enough fabric to cover the undersides of her shapely breasts. The nipples and tops of her breasts were totally bare. She wore no panties. Just a white lace garter belt to hold up her stockings. Jane noticed that Rachel was a very natural blonde, noticed that her pubic hair was trimmed very short, noticed that Rachel's pussy lips had already starting to puff and glisten, that she was already wet with arousal."

"See, what did I tell you, Marco," Denis commented, "all you need to do is tell her she is going to get a beating and she gets wet."

"It is unfortunately true, mi amigo. Yes, my dear wife has a very nasty habit. And beating her more will not cure her of this addiction. I think maybe a dozen with the cane, for starters. Then maybe later, after our Plain Jane has entertained us, maybe another dozen with the Scottish tawse, which is what you prefer. Touch your toes, mi amor, knees straight."

Jane was feeling more and more like a fat lump of flab. She knew she would have difficulty touching her toes without bending her knees. So she was amazed that Rachel could do it, not very easily, but could do it, wearing three inch heels.

Jane could see that Rachel had already been beaten at least once that day. Her ass still had a rosy glow, and underneath the redness, the dark blue bruise marks from previous cannings.

The cane was short, maybe two and a half feet long, of fairly stiff unfinished bamboo. It was straight - didn't have the crook end of an English school. And it made a sickening, swishing sound as it cut through the air. And then.

Thwak!

"Ah!," very softly, and then "One."

"Thawk! Thwak!!

"Two three."

The canning proceeded slowly. Jane watched with fascination and horror as Marco laid the strokes in closely, evenly, starting high on Rachel's right hip and working down to the top of her right thigh. No overlap, the welts appeared as if by magic in perfect parallel rows. At the end, Rachel was whimpering, but she had not cried or lost count. And then it was finally over.

"You see how brave she is, my little one? You enjoyed that, my love?"

"Yes, Sir. Thank you."

Then Denis took control. "I think its time for our new guest, our Plain Jane, to get ready. Please take off your skirt and blouse, Jane. I need to flog you with the martinet, and then something you will very much enjoy. I think our little Plain Jane may be fond of Scotland, so we'll take her on an imaginary journey."

Jane had no idea what he was talking about.

"St. Andrew, I believe, is the patron saint of golfers and the Scots. He gave the world the water hazard, the five iron, and his very special cross. Later you and Margaret will have your own private little water hazard, but for now the Cross of St. Andrew is something, with YOUR HELP, we all can enjoy."

She hadn't noticed it when she came into the room. It was tucked in a corner, not in direct site. But there it was, the large X-shape cross, the gleaming polished wood, the wrist and ankle cuffs at the four corners. Just looking at it, Jane felt the wetness starting again.

"Jane, time's a wasting, time to get naked," Denis reminded her.

"Yes, Sir."

In a trance Jane undressed: first her skirt and blouse, that was the easy part. Then she stood there in bra and panties, waiting, all eyes on her. The bra was plain white and padded, not the sexy little contraption Rachel had worn. Likewise, the panties were of lycra, as much to hold her tummy in as anything else. Jane had undressed for her boyfriends, but this was different. She was starting to get nervous, started to feel that sensation of the cranberry juice, wanting to go and pee.

"Now the rest of it. Everything off."

"Please Sir, can I go to the bathroom first?"

Denis thought for a long moment. She was sure he was doing this to prolong her agony. Involuntarily, she started to squeeze her knees together, something she used to do when she was a little girl.

"Please Sir, you said before I could pee if I had to."

That wasn't really what he had said, but it was close enough. He had told her that he would let her pee, that it would be a treat for Peggy, whatever that meant.

"Margaret, show our friend to the bathroom. Let her pretend she's in France, someplace out in the country."

"Come on!" Margaret snarled, and grabbed her by the collar, dragged her from the room. The bathroom was just down the hall. It was done all in white -pedestal sink, round Art Deco mirror, low profile commode, and stall shower. The wall opposite the sink and commode was a floor to ceiling mirror. The cover of the commode was already open.

Margaret pushed her into the bathroom, stood in the doorway, kept the door open.

"Take off your panties, you won't be need them any more this evening," Margaret ordered. "You can keep your bra on for now. It will come off after your flogging, but before Master Denis puts you on the Cross. Can't wear a bra for St. Andrew. It will only get in the way when we play with your scrawny tits."

Was that was what she wanted? For Denis and the others to show some interest in her breasts? She had only had two lovers, one in college, and one after. But Jane learned her breasts were very sensitive to her own or a man's caress. Maybe tonight she would find out if they were even sensitive to a woman's.