Luck be a Lady Renaissance tonight. part 1 by DLC's alyssa
Much like the country itself the soul of the Tawny Kitten tavern was at stake. Old timers merged with new comers creating a fragile co-existence. In a years time the former barkeep Joan Devlin had acquired enough money to buy the bar from the owner on her deathbed near dying from cancer.
A converted lesbian she aimed to have it become a beacon of support for the towns growing LGBTQ community. Word had spread what had been an upscale male yuppie motorcycle bar now had lesbian bikers showing up more often as though the first wave of soldiers establishing a beachhead in a battle for supremacy.
Soon less assertive members of the gay community also started coming though there were times when they were hassled for the lifestyle by the old timers trying to hang on to something that was slipping through their fingers like ‘Jello’ melting at a summer picnic.
Joan wanted only the hip old timers to remain aware it gave the tavern some character. She figured over time they’d lose the ones they didn’t want hanging there while keeping those they did. With an uneasy balance coexisting it was still a process the bar was going through.
The news anchor with the plastic face made of Botox smiled out.
“Before switching to the big game we have this….. Finally in local news another diamond heist robbery occurred by what we in the press are calling the ‘alley cat burglar’…that’s the 9th one in two years folks…dressed in all black it seems the arrogance has him wearing pair of kitten ears to scoff at authorities who have yet to catch the thief. Near a million and half dollars in value of high end diamonds gone missing….Police have him at 6’ and fairly thin….hasn’t this rogue thief ever heard you’re not supposed to irritate our local crime boss Rocko. Anything goes down in this town he knows about it or one way or the other he'll find out…that guy better be careful whoever he is….I'd hate to be caught by Rocko’s bruisers.”
The flatscreens all had the football match that was called ‘the game of the century’ on. It would keep that title for the next a year or two until a new game of the millennial would claim the description. That too would be hyped for all it was worth by the cable network behemoths and colleges that reaped huge profits rarely shared with the actual combatants on the field.
University football coach’s now made 4, 5, or 6 and sometimes even 7 million dollars a year to bring out the best in athletes that would be banned for life if found taking money. Often they needed it to help buy food or pay the rent to single mothers that raised them. It was a far cry from being a non-paid coach for a little league baseball team who did it for the sheer joy of seeing young ones improve.
Sitting on the bar stool divorced 4 times it was rumored Nate Pennerton was hitting on some of the single mothers with boys on the little league team he coached. He looked around glad to see Joan the owner wasn’t there. Back when she was just a part time bartender he loved giving her grief after failing to pick her up despite numerous attempts. Losing some of her sweetness he could tell she had changed noticeably in the past year.
A nod of his head had Matilda the taverns GM bring him another beer. Paying him little attention she yelled out at the 70 year old sitting on a stool by the door.
Hearing the chatter among those sitting at the bar about the ‘alley-cat burglar’ Nate just smiled. No one there suspected he was the bandit who pulled off that caper and the others the months before. The idea that he wear 4" rubber lifts on the bottom of his boots meant they were looking for someone a lot taller the his 5’ 8” height. Looking at his watch he went outside tired of the pregame commercials to have a smoke.
The melodic tune was easy on the ears. Skilled at capturing ones awareness the Madison avenue ‘Ad’ agency for the massive health care conglomerate had designed the song to have an underlying beat that mimicked a familiar children’s nursery rhyme in order to connect on a subconscious level.
“….come on …get healthy….”
Hearing the tune was enough for him to open his eyes. Some 80 pounds overweight Jasper thought to him self ‘gee the way they sing that I must not be healthy…I better get an doctors appointment soon....maybe tomorrow today i have the big game to hold my mind'.
Drifting in and out of awareness from his beer buzz the regular from the old days had been sitting on the same bar stool for near 10 years including that late afternoon.
The female little league coach had all the girl’s attention as she spoke.
“I don’t know where coach Nate is…it doesn’t look like he or the boy’s are coming so lets begin.”
“How come none of the boys showed up?”
“I’m afraid the coach has soured them against being on a team mixed with both girls and boys. Remember this girls…we’ve earned the right to be here your mothers and grandmothers fought for the equal rights amendment…. when you get older take no guff from any male. We expect you to become leaders in all fields including business.”
One of the other girls shouted out while sitting on the bench.
“We don’t need them…..we play better without them.”
Fists clenched the little leaguer's started chanting ‘’take no guff…take no guff….take no guff’.
“Ok baseball….Girls its economy of motion…the strongest doesn’t always win out..its timing and speed that can make the difference…look we beat that team with all boys…didn’t that feel good..she looked at the eleven girls as she said it. Too busy playing on the facetime app not one boy of the eight on the team had showed up for practice.
“I want you to keep your heads as still as you can…. the moment you begin to pull off you lose power. It is a natural reaction that must be overcome…lets face we all have the instinct to pull out of the way or duck if something is coming at us or someone is throwing at our head. Watch when someone falls off their bike, it’s not their head that hits the ground in most cases it their hands…. their hands reach out and scrape against the pavement…we’re driven to protect our noggin….”
All of the girls sitting on the bench laughed with a beefy girl of age 12 speaking afterwards.
“That’s funny when you say noggin coach…sometimes my mom calls it a melon….she tells my dad he’s a melon-head when he does something stupid."
“Very funny miss ‘melon-head’. Now you go hit 50 balls off the ‘T’ into the screen of the backstop. Always remember you are one of our best ball players one day we’ll need you to come through in the pinch Ariel.”
Please with herself at hearing the compliment the little girl stood up off the bench and saluted coach Laura.
“Yes sir Ms. Laura....take no guff, take no guff.”
By her way of thinking little league practice only ended after all the young baseball players had been successfully picked up by their parents or guardians.
There had been a power struggle going on for control of the team part time assistant coach Laura Heathly, a single divorced mother had stepped in speaking up when it was clear the male coach Nate Pennerton wasn’t planning on playing any of the girls especially hers on the team unless he had to.
Yet him not showing for practice was breaking new ground. Silently she prayed that he would choose to stay away for good. Once one boy saw no other boys there he would leave spreading the word not to attend practice. Truth be told most of them preferred staying at home gaming on the Face-time app.
Dripping with sweat Joan pulled the bullwhip towards her as she rolled it back up once more.
“Who you thinking about as you let ‘diabplo oscuro’ crackle against the wall?’
‘Diablo oscuro’ was Spanish for ‘dark devil’ and was the name she gave the bullwhip a Latino Mistress gifted her at a Dom-con convention in Mexico city a few years back.
Joan’s mouth pulled up a tight grimace letting the whip fly from on high.
“His name is Nate and of all things he coaches the little league team my niece plays for…a real mysogynist …quite full of himself he is a male ego-maniac with an inferiority complex if I ever saw one. He just loves to control things and the irony is he’s a regular at my bar Tawny Kitten Tavern. Only likes playing the boys on the team as though were stuck the 1970‘s still.”
Pulling the whip back without looking as she rolled it up she glared at Kendra.
“My niece is a talented athlete and whip smart if you’ll pardon the pun…..”
Its wrist loop in place holding the whip up by its decorative knob as if to validate the comment she let it unravel on the floor behind her.
“Males have been keeping female down for centuries….I don’t want her development to suffer because he’s not playing her.”
Once more she aimed to hit the mark on the wall before unleashing her strength to drive the frayed ‘popper’ tip of the bullwhip close to the cross swords that made an ‘X’ on the cement wall. All around it were imprints left from the tip of the braided leather piece more commonly used in wrangling livestock in open-country.
The challenge for Joan was always to hit the 4 open spaces consecutively and finish by having her fifth one in a row land in the center of the swords letting the red rubber ball holding there fall loose. If she did all 5 correctly Joan would be allowed the privilege of kissing Kendra’s vagina.
Joan had mastered the art of making the section of a whip move faster than the speed of sound creating the small sonic boom usually referred to as a chain reaction creating a ‘crack of the whip’.
After letting four more quick ones hit the wall where she needed them to she dropped the popper tip smack dab on the rubber ball only to see it drop and bounce on the floor.
“Ok that’s what I’m talking about…that’s enough for tonight.”
Kendra broke the dark mood using her ‘Yoda’ voice.
“No! try not! Do or do not there is no try…you’ve done well my Jedi pupil.”
Skilled at using humor to make her point Joan beamed out a grin knowing it was one of the many reasons she loved Mistress Kendra. Showing her own growth Joan pulled out her spot-on imitation of Yoda.
“Errrr, Always there are two, no more, no less. A Master and an apprentice.”
Like a stable hand hot-walking a horse Joan held the bottle of water taking sips walking back and forth while trying to cool down as the Master and her 'apprentice’ Joan chatted.
“There is nothing quite so sexy and for that matter so scary as a southern Belle Dominatrix with her unique feminine drawl that only comes from the south….. pick a state be it Georgia, Alabama, or your birth place South Carolina ….especially a southern drawl that has a hint of French to its tone.”
Taken from the song title the woman scoffed the next sentence out.
“Luck be a lady tonight…..haaa what a typical male expectation….They expect you to be a lucky lady tonight and in the morning just another submissive girl that’s domesticated cleaning up after them and cooking their food when and how they like it. Males have relied on female passivity to be the difference.”
Looking at her and listening Joan wrote names on the sheet of paper as though trying to decide quietly speaking them.
‘Lady Lily… la chance or Lady Laura ….or Lorraine ….she underlined Lorraine three times with the pencil before she said it loudy as she posed in front of the mirror in just her heels and a thong.
There was no other way to say it…her body was ripped from all the months of working out with Delilah at her health club. Sculpting her muscled frame with follow up toning she had the grace of a ballerina combined with the strength of a weightlifter that could clean and jerk 350 pounds.
Mistress Kendra’s words rang through her mind on hearing them as she flexed…’you’ll be hell on wheels…or maybe we should say hell on heels’.
Joan had looked at her grateful for the knowledge the dominatrix was teaching her.
“L’enfer sur roués…or L’enfer les talons.”
Kendra put her hand behind her ear as if she hadn’t heard Joan say them.
“Beg pardon...Come again.”
“The first is French for hell on wheels the 2nd hell on ‘heels’.”
Strong enough in her own right Kendra grabbed Joan by the wrist and playfully slapped her cheek with her free hand.
“Somebody has been practicing their French.”
“I spent a lot of time with my Gram, she is or was 4th generation Charleston…being from South Carolina never did care much for those Yankees including the baseball team.…they don’t make 'em like her anymore grand pa was tough yet he knew never to cross her……”
Her mind drifted back momentarily as she conjured up a memory of sitting as a young girl with her grandmother Gertrude.
“…..She tutored me on how to speak French for years when we were alone. She would speak it into a tape player and I would listen to the playback, French is always easier to learn with audio besides you develop the proper inflection. When it’s written down there are many silent letters, glidings and liaisons and one will find them everywhere including in French verb conjugations and grammar.
The memory brought a smile to her face.
“….it’s as though written and spoken French are almost two different languages. I listened, listened and listened and learned them by heart before Nana had me write them out. I’d link the words or phrases to images and visual situations. I didn’t waste time trying to translate them into English I knew that could come later once I knew the language in my heart ……after all French is the language of love, if you love something you’ll always treasure it.
“Aren’t you just full of humanist ideals and cultural philosophy……look at my Lady of the 17th century French Renaissance.”
Joan just stopped at stared at the woman who was teaching her to be a feared yet resourceful Dominatrix.
“That’s it ….that’s my name Lady Lorraine Renaissance.”
Tilting her head slightly to the side Kendra’s eyes looked up at the ceiling as one often does when carefully thinking.
“Make it Lady Renaissance…… it’s cleaner and rolls of the tongue better.”
“I like it…..Lady Renaissance….it's devastatingly chic.”
Joan didn’t even realize she did it…...her hand drifted lower and gave a rub across the thong covering her vagina. Just then Mistress Kendra came up from behind and pulled on her arms as Joan watched her own hands being move back. The woman affixed the padded handcuffs as they both looked into the mirror.
“Why it wasn’t all that long ago you played at being my submissive femme creature a struggling barkeep …yes so docile in front of her Mistress. You’ve learned the value of using a hood for it diminishes ones own personality creating a void that will be filled with a new persona.”
Gently pushing on the shoulders of her protégé Joan dropped to her knees never once averting her eyes away from those of her Mistress Dominatrix Kendra.
“…And now I have put you on a path to wealth …given you a new career at my investment firm …and a calling as a Dominatrix…..a female supremacist furthering the cause of the Matriarchy and the political feminine power of Gynecocracy…..the time is approaching when women will rule over the male creature bringing him to submit to the female.”
The woman’s hands abruptly yanked Joan’s panties down to her shapely ankles.
“Never forget, be it upheaval or joy….to make your male prey display their submission in times of emotional turbulence … it will link the two together…that being their emotions and need to submit…..you build on their sexual desire until they willingly give you their slavery as a gift."
Kendra brushed a few strands of Joan's hair our of her eyes
"…then they are yours to mold into the image and likeness of a submissive feminine being….how delightful to make a male a T-gurl out of one who mistakenly thought he had power..... yes to see them acquire a womanly daintiness and feminine vanity in their appearance.….you’ll know you’ve truly earned the title Lady Renaissance when you’ve taken a male turned him in to a full breasted woman …a pretty feminine T-girl if you will.”
The woman paused before adding.
"The irony is that they have become what they have always been drawn to while viewing porn....objectified submissive feminine beings."
Kendra looked at Joan far from appearing as Lady Renaissance her protégé lowered her face and chest to the padded carpet. Lifting her bottom up she gave off a wiggle with both cheeks moving in unison. Closing her eyes she waited knowing Delilah had muscled up her body yet it was Kendra that had made her mind right. That wasn’t all the talented mistress had done for the woman.
Having herself made a fortune through the aid of seasoned professional women in her circle Kendra felt it was her duty to reach back and lift another woman up. As way of paying back she had taken the struggling bartender Joan and made her financially comfortable on her way to being wealthy. Kendra piggy-backed Joan’s savings and 401K money putting them in investment’s that were damn near a sure thing. She next combined her salary and commissions from a discovered talent at investing to have her see her wealth expand.
Under her tutelage she was not only training her in the art of being a professional Dominatrix she also created a new career for the 37 year old female smart enough to become licensed in financial investments. Her pile of money grew as the months turned into the end of the 2nd year.
Grunting out her body lurched forward on feeling the sting of the wooden paddle. 19 more followed before the attractive mid-30 woman was allowed to move back up standing on her knees.
Hands behind her she watched her Mistress pull a sword off her wall. Her arm lifting behind her at her shoulders showing her own talent with a long blade Kendra swooshed it through cutting the air until she lunged forward performing a ‘draw cut’ like 'Zorro' on the taut fabric held on the other wall.
Joan smiled seeing her first make the two same exact lines before a third came straight down to form the letter of her initial ‘K’. Walking tall in her stiletto boots the woman stood in front of her protégé she was prepared to unleash on the BDSM world.
The sword came up as she held it in front of her face the tip pointing to the ceiling. She lowered it on to the edge of Joan’s shoulders like a queen would when knighting a worthy subject.
“Freed of repression of intuition, blocked physic powers, unwanted attention, uncontrolled outbursts and sexual tension. You have all the wisdom and knowledge and spirituality you need to know. I dub thee High-Priestess of the feminine order……I present to all that have earned her wrath or praise….. Dominatrix Lorraine….Lady Renaissance.
Within the week Domina Joan would have a pretty feminine looking tattoo of a High Priestess Tarot card mingling between the inked on flowers and vines resting at her hip line.
Kendra smiled as she slid the last of her clothing off pleased to see Joan naked and waiting on her spacious bed the woman move to join her. Her legs on either side had her sitting on Joan’s hips while the pretty protégé toyed with the nipples of her large breasts.
“Isn’t it marvelous being a woman…who wouldn’t want to have beautiful breasts?”
Kendra bent letting her breasts touch Joan’s as she slowly kissed her. Her hand reached under and scooped the lovely pair of c-cups of the woman under her. Lifting back up Kendra shook her lovely full rounded milky breasts.
“You’ll find males fear femininity with all its trappings….ohhhh its such a sweet surrender as one watches his body turn into that of a woman’s….tame him….break him….emasculate him….and feminize him into a life of submissive womanhood.”
“Oh fuck I need to feel you inside me Kendra.”
“Under the pillows dear…..hands free...my 'Feeldoe' dildo.”
Joan pulled it out and watched as The Dominatrix slid it into her pussy. Slithering back Kendra lifted Joan’s legs into the air.
“Damn that feels good…you always make it feel like the first time Kendra.”
The Mistress truly enjoyed making love to another female. Free of ‘daddy issues’ as a young coed a woman friend of her mothers she called ‘Aunty’ had awakened her to the joys only two women can have.
Joan just stared as though captivated by the way Kendra manipulated the 7” dildo moving in and out of her vagina. Her hand slid down to flick the clit that unveiled itself at the top of her slit.
“Seeing a male lose his balls…watching a vagina replace their cherished pole….so interesting how common place its become for a male to be given a functioning pussy….yes their days of acting so superior replaced by a level of submission to the feminine…I do so enjoy seeing a male made docile, made pretty…made voluptuous…not a one I have converted has complained about having lovely amble breasts and the need for pretty intimate wear."
Together their bodies moved as one Joan wrapped her legs around the woman’s hips wanting the fucking to never end. Her hand lifted to feel the smooth face that was blemish free.
“You’re so beautiful Kendra.”
“My own confidence enhances it as you will discover…being a dominatrix a woman learns males come to enjoy worshiping at her alter of the sacred feminine 'V'. Their submission will make you feel even more beautiful…and that’s when you have them….you turn their desire for the feminine inward...if they can’t have you then they can only hope to be like you…..the want becomes a need…and like you they shall become…with a body made womanly….only it's in a docile submissive feminine way.’
“Ohhh yes, yes, yes, yes….eeewwww fuck any unassertiveness out of me…I am a woman …I am a superior feminine being….ohhhhh right there ….just like that Kendra ….oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck….I love having a pussy.”
Kendra slammed hard into Joan taking her to her climax.
“…And so will any male you gift with one.”
Upon awaking from the post-coitus nap Kendra looked at Joan.
”I ordered Chinese….lets ring for Lily shall we?”
Petticoats flouncing the T-girl maid had the prettiest eyes one ever did see. Awash in an abundance of mascara and eyeliner and eyeshadow Maid Lily carried the tray in while she smiled.
A follow up curtsey had the former hooligan of a male hold the ‘attention’ pose he had first learned in her BDSM education training.
“Will that be all Madame Kendra, not to ask to leave unexpectedly yet my laundry chores await Maam.’
“Sweetie lift you hem of lovely petticoats.”
Trying his best maid Lily could feel the futility of trying to wrangle the collection of petti’s.
“Such a lovely chastity cage….yes it help bring out the best in my pretty t-gurl….it won’t be long now….a lovely vagina will soon be there.....come lets give my beauty a reward.”
Minute’s later maid Lily stood in just his bra and panties and garters and stockings. Balancing on the 4’ heels he’d grown accustom too he was looking at his unrestrained penis for the first time in a long time.
“Go ahead dear….masturbate for us….I want to see how clear your discharge is these days”
“Yes Mistress Kendra…I’m not sure if I remember how….I’ve gotten so used to my dildo’s.....they feel sooo good vibrating inside me....I feel so girlish every time I'm allowed to use them.”
“Well then picture me the first time I penetrated past your lovely rosebud…surely you remember when I deflowered my pretty Lily….why you screamed out I never knew how nice it could feel Maam if I recall correctly.”
Lily penis grew to its 4” as the t-gurl played with it using two fingers to glide up and down the thin shaft.
“Tell me….doesn’t it get any bigger…you were so proud of it that first night I met you.”
“No Maam not any more it's gotten smaller….this is a big as my pretty clitty gets these….ohhhhh,,ohhhhhhh ooohhhhhh…oh Mistress look…..my little plaything…..ohhhhhhhhh, ooohhhhhhhh, ooooohhhhhhh whoo its getting wet Mistress….I’m just thinking about you and how much I love being your servant…woooo. Oh my its all done…that was so quick….I don’t make as much cream as I used to.….may I please lick my fingers Maam?”
Nate walked in after the smoke to hear the announcer say ‘This is going to be a great football game’.
His co-partner replied.
“Yes it’s going to be a real shoot-out.”
At the end of the bar near the front Jasper looked up after opening his eyes.
He pulled the pistol out from underneath his shirt and fired off five shots from it. The first headed out past the screen breaking the window on his 12 year Jeep wrangler.
Everyone ducked for cover as two more went towards the picture of Osama Bin laden pinned onto a dartboard. The next two no one knew for certain where they landed.
Matilda screeched out loudly.
“Alright Jasper …hand it over…you know we no longer allow that sort of thing in here…you’ll put on the ears if you plan on staying.”
Slumping at the shoulders he handed the gun to Matilda as she gave him the cute kitten ear headband. It was the recent custom in the bar to have anyone who lost a pool-table match or dart board game and plain just did something stupid to be forced to wear kitten ears made popular by fetish boi's turned girlie ‘traps’.
“Geez Matilda Maam…I feel so silly wearing this.”
“That’s the idea….no more beers for you until halftime.”
As Nate lifted back up he thought he spotted a stranger’s car. Holding still he saw two large muscled up enforcers who looked like they were hoods for the mob. Under his breath he whispered. ‘Uh oh that’s Rocco’s guys I’m sure of it’. I don’t know how but their on to me.”
Out back Joan was unloading her trunk of the cleaning supplies. Bending over in her 3’ heels she enjoyed the feeling of the tug of her rear zip tight jeans. Suddenly the screen door flew open only to have her see her secret nemesis Nate. Looking back as though sure he was being chased he fell to his knees at the trunk of her car
“Hide me….please Joan I beg of you..I mean Ms. Joan…I’m sorry I yelled at you at the ball game…please I need to go NOW …I need to lay low for a few days or so….I don’t care where just get me out of here…please Maam I beg of you.”
It was the chance she had been waiting for a simple point of her finger had him climbing into the trunk of her BMW series 7.
In an authoritative voice she spoke.
“Face down on the carpet ….hands….behind your back now.”
Joan slipped out the handcuffs she kept in her jeans back pocket. A lesbian police sargent regular customer had given them to her telling Joan ‘they’ll be useful in bar brawls…no one ever expects to be handcuffed when fighting’.
Although he didn’t realize it his world had changed the moment he felt his hands being cuffed at the wrists. Joan next slid on a hood over his face saying ‘no one will recognize you this way’.
Walking to the open driver side door she clapped her hands gently together. She whispered ‘Got-cha’ before twisting her hips to slide in to the seat. Her text let the bar's GM Matilda know the cleaning supplies were near her parking space out back.
The basement felt damp as Nate took in the scent of lavender while being guided down the stairs. Hood on he benignly lifted his arm on feeling the release of the handcuffs. With both arms lifted secured at the wrists to the wall the male realized he was once more made helpless.
The pair of scissors slid along the material until all clothing was removed. His body gave off a shiver at feeling the room’s coolness. Joan gathered the shredded clothing laying it on the table she immediately saw the glittering collection of diamonds that fell from the pocket.
“Uhh the alley cat burglar….Well Kitty cat that gives me an idea.”
Nate spoke up.
“Hey what gives …I can’t move with these things on my wrists.”
Feeling the hood being lifted his hope took flight until he felt the ball-gag slide into place as it was secured in back. He next felt a metal BDSM collar move round his neck this time he could hear the lock close as she next lowered the hood back down.
Her alter ego in place Dominatrix Lorraine was ready to unveil Lady Renaissance.