Title:

Author: McKay

Rating: Hard R

Pairings: Catherine/Lady Heather

Spoilers: Slaves Of Las Vegas, just to be safe (I stole a character, but no other spoilers).

Warnings: Consensual spanking. Guys, the chick's name is Lady Heather and she's a professional dominatrix. If this surprises you entirely, you're fairly naive. Also, Catherine's acting a bit out of character as is necessary for the story. After all, here she is essentially playing a role-the role of submissive. It apparently is said that to be a good dominatrix, one must be comfortable with subbing. And we all know Catherine has great potential :)

Series: Not really, but it does follow the first untitled fic I wrote about these two, so you might want to read that one first. It isn't really essential that you do, though.

Disclaimer: Jerry Bruckheimer owns CSI and its characters. Lady Heather and Catherine Willows belong in no small part to Melinda Clarke and Marg Helgenberger. They aren't mine. Thanks to Queernet.org, a huge help in researching for these fics. I wrote this one as quickly as I did the first, longhand in a Rugrats *tm notebook outside on this gorgeous January (the hell? It's like 50 degrees out) day. It's PWP, totally un-beta'd and for my amusement only. And hopefully the amusement of others.

Feedback: Send to ChildeOfDarla@aol.com Always appreciated. Hell, I'm a feedback junkie. Constructive is my favorite kind. A general "you rock" is an ego-boost, and admittedly adored. A general "you suck" helps nobody and won't make me go away. Flames will be laughed at, posted on the Web and openly mocked by all. So don't say I didn't warn you.

Archive/Distribution: You want it for the list archive, take it; you want it for anything else, I'm flattered, just ask first. Common courtesy and all. Any spelling or grammatical errors that catch your eye that are *not intended within the context of the story* may be corrected if you see fit. If you can't tell whether or not it was intended, leave it be. Thanks.

Summary: A little discipline and the continuation of an education. Catherine learns the importance of being submissive.

For Elyssa, of course, and everyone who feedbacked the first story.

 

 

*Step forward, shoulder back, extend arm, drop wrist. * Catherine silently watched Lady Heather as she had been commanded to do, determined to be a good student. She'd never settled for anything but the best from herself, and she doubted Lady Heather would, either. She was actually a bit afraid to find out how accepting Heather's standards were. She was actually a bit afraid of
Lady Heather.

"So that's a bullwhip, the one before it was a flogger, and we've covered cat, cane, paddle and crop. Pretty basic so far. You ready to take a crack at it?"

Allowing herself a slight smile at Heather's pun, Catherine stepped forward and took the whip. The tooled leather handle fit easily into her grasp, the worn leather comfortable, almost inviting. She carefully draw her arm back, stepped forward with her left foot and let the lash arc forward.
It snapped cleanly, then unexpectedly came back at her, giving her a sharp crack below the knees. Heather bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. Tears had come to Catherine's eyes from the unexpected sting of the blow, but she worked to keep her expression passive.

"What'd I do wrong?"

Heather put her finger to her lips, reminding her to keep her silence.

Catherine dropped her head slightly, but her expression betrayed no shame.

"Extend your arm a bit more, and let your wrist move outwards; don't snap it straight down, or it'll come bouncing right back to you." Catherine nodded tensely and began to step forward. "And relax. You're stiffer than a rattan cane. You can enjoy yourself. Try again." Heather offered an incongruently reassuring smile. Catherine did, and although the lash came bouncing backwards once more, it missed her legs by half an inch. "Better. But again, Cat, relax. You're doing fine,
and rest assured, I won't punish you if you make a mistake. At least, not handling the whip." Heather winked. "It's a 90% mental business, Cat. Try it again." Catherine did. "Again. Again. Again." With each stroke of the whip, Catherine's back and arms relaxed further, her movements becoming more and more confident and liberated. A smile came to her eyes, but never touched her lips.

"Good, good. Now, we don't hit people where?"

Catherine opened her mouth to answer, then shut it just as quickly.

"Good girl, Cat. You may answer."

"The feet, thighs, waist, ribs, neck, spine, face, joints, lower back and abdomen. Tread lightly on the breasts, soles of the feet, calves and nether regions." Heather nodded her approval. Catherine allowed herself a small glow of pride.

"You learn fast, Cat. Within a week I'll have you puppy-training that boss of yours."

Catherine's pokerfaced demeanor came apart for a split second as she gaped at Heather, then quickly composed herself. Heather laughed heartily.

Catherine forced back the grin she felt building on her face.

"I can't envision myself asking Gil to lick himself." The moment of near-camraderie had relaxed her too much, she realized belatedly, and the words escaped her before she'd realized they were being formed. Heather glared at her sharply, and the disapproval sent a flush through Catherine.

"You were told not to speak without permission, Catherine." Catherine nodded silently, eyes cast downward. Embarrassment and anger filled her, and her carefully built self-preservation instincts from years of working CSI told her to challenge this woman. Instead, she silently crossed the room to the throne at the far end of the room where Heather was already waiting.

Catherine's head was bowed and she looked up at Heather through her eyelashes, nerves causing a fluttering her stomach. Heather patted her knee and Catherine obediently lay herself across her lap. "I'm disappointed in you, Catherine." She unbuttoned Catherine's jeans and slid them down,
revealing an aqua-colored thong. She passed her hand tenderly over the delicately sculpted curves of Catherine's hip and ass, then slapped her hard.

Catherine cried out, her body going rigid, limbs extending. "Shh." Heather brushed her fingertips over Catherine's lips, her other hand coming down hard on her ass once more. Catherine stiffened but remained silent.

"Good girl." Heather stroked the soft, warm skin, smiling as Catherine wriggled under her touch. Her other hand passed gently over Catherine's hair in a reassuring touch. She lightly kissed her palm and touched it to Catherine's ass before slapping her sharply twice more. "You may speak when spoken to." Heather gently cupped the curve of her ass with one hand and gently petted the heated, trembling flesh before striking her again. "Are you sorry?" She punctuated the question with another sharp slap.

"Yes, Lady Heather." Catherine gasped. Heather slapped her again, sending electric currents of sensation through Catherine, who fought a moan of pain and desire.

"Sorry you spoke out of turn, or sorry you're being punished?"

"Both, Lady Heather." Catherine gritted, wondering if she'd earned extra whacks with her reply. Heather was relieved that Catherine couldn't see the amused smile that played over her lips as she delivered another blow.

"Are you sure?" Heather deliberately traced a red mark on Catherine's skin with a feather-light touch, sending the smaller woman shivering.

"I'm sorry that I spoke out of turn, Lady Heather." Catherine barely flinched at the next two slaps, her entire body quivering with trepidation and anticipation.

"Have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes, Lady Heather."

"Good." Heather gave her a final resounding crack across the backs of her thighs before commanding her to sit up. Catherine obeyed, despite severe protests from her seat. A few tears clung to her eyelashes, but her gaze didn't waver when she met Heather's eyes. "You really don't look very sorry, Cat." Heather touched her cheek and kissed her tenderly. Catherine didn't kiss her back; instead, she allowed Heather to fully explore the depths and valleys of her mouth-the sharp ridges of her teeth, the soft yield of her tongue, the sharp metallic taste of a silver filling. Heather took Catherine's mouth as her own, claiming it and dominating it.

"But," Heather continued when she broke the kiss, "you seem to have learned a few lessons." Heather kissed her again and Catherine leaned into her arms, this time nudging Heather's thigh between hers insistently, shifting her weight to relieve the burning flame. Slightly impressed by her
daring, Heather ran her hand down Catherine's back, across her hip and down between her legs, pushing the material of the thong aside. She clucked her tongue in mock disapproval, testing the warm wetness.

"Clearly, I need to devise better methods of punishment." Catherine pushed her hips down impatiently, but Heather shook her head. "Not yet, Cat. All things in due time."

Catherine groaned low in her throat.

"I won't forget this, you know." Catherine said, shifting her weight so she could rub her throbbing ass. "And I should warn you, I'm really not very forgiving."

Heather smiled indulgently at her protege.

"I'm counting on it."

END