Chains of Rome

It was early March, and the Manhattan air carried a crisp bite, though the snow had mostly melted into gray puddles along the streets. Inside the Society’s enclave, a sprawling complex of sleek towers hidden behind mirrored glass, Patricia felt a new kind of purpose. Her blue collar, etched with “C.R.’s Forever,” sat snug around her neck, a constant reminder of her place as Carl’s cherished property. The ceremony that sealed her promotion was still fresh in her mind—ropes, whippings, and the heat of Carl, Jody, and the others claiming her body in a night of intense connection. But now, a month later, she was stepping into a new role: mentor to a green recruit, a young woman named Ellie who echoed Patricia’s own shaky start in the Society.

Ellie was barely 22, with wide hazel eyes and a nervous way of twisting her fingers when she spoke. She had joined the Society out of curiosity, drawn by whispers of power and surrender, but she was naive and torn, unsure if she could handle its demands. Patricia saw herself in Ellie—the same fear, the same pull to something bigger, the same doubts about giving up control. Carl had assigned Ellie to Patricia, saying, “You’ve been through the fire. Show her how to walk it.” So, Patricia took her under her wing, determined to guide her with the strength she’d gained from surviving the Prince’s cruelty, the Endurance Ordeal, and her own transformation.

The mentorship started in a quiet training room in the enclave, a cozy space with padded floors, dim lights, and shelves of tools—floggers, ropes, cuffs, and more. Patricia wore a simple black dress that hugged her curves, her blue collar the only decoration. Ellie stood across from her in a plain green shift, her green collar marking her as new. “First thing,” Patricia said, her voice calm but firm, “is learning positions. They’re not just poses—they’re about giving yourself over, body and mind.”

She taught Ellie the basics: kneeling with hands behind her back, spine straight, eyes down for submission; standing with legs apart, arms raised, offering herself fully; lying on her back, wrists and ankles spread for binding. Patricia moved around her, correcting gently—nudging Ellie’s knees wider, lifting her chin, or pressing her shoulders back. “It’s not about looking pretty,” Patricia explained. “It’s about feeling open, ready to trust whoever’s in charge.” Ellie’s cheeks flushed, but she nodded, trying hard to please.

Next came pain tolerance. Patricia didn’t want to scare Ellie, so she started small. She picked up a soft leather flogger, its strands light and flexible. “Pain’s part of this life,” she said. “It’s not just hurt—it’s a way to find your strength.” She had Ellie kneel, then swung the flogger lightly across her back, just enough to sting. Ellie gasped, her body tensing, but Patricia talked her through it: “Breathe deep. Let it flow through you, not against you.” Over days, they worked up to harder hits—floggers, then a thin crop that left pink lines on Ellie’s thighs. Patricia watched her closely, stopping if Ellie shook too much, praising her when she took the pain well. “You’re tougher than you think,” Patricia told her, remembering her own first lashes, how they’d scared her until she learned to ride the sensation.

The real test came in a joint session with Jody, set for a late afternoon in the same training room, now set up for something deeper. Carl had approved it, wanting Ellie to see the poly dynamics of their group—how love, power, and pleasure wove together. The room was warm, candles flickering along the walls, a soft mat in the center with a low bench nearby. Patricia wore a tight leather corset that pushed up her breasts, her blue collar gleaming. Jody, also blue-collared, had on a flowing silk robe, her dark hair loose. Ellie stood in her green shift, nervous but curious, her eyes darting between them.

“This is about learning through doing,” Patricia said, her voice steady. “You’re going to serve us, Ellie, and we’ll guide you. It’s safe here.” Jody smiled, stepping closer to Ellie, her hand brushing the girl’s arm. “We’ll take care of you,” she added softly.

They started with guidance. Patricia had Ellie kneel, showing her how to offer her mouth. Jody sat on the bench, legs spread, her robe falling open to show her pussy. “Start slow,” Patricia instructed, kneeling beside Ellie. She guided Ellie’s head forward, her fingers gentle in the girl’s hair. Ellie hesitated, then leaned in, her tongue flicking out to lick Jody’s clit. Jody moaned softly, encouraging her. “Good girl, just like that.” Patricia stayed close, whispering tips—how to suck gently, how to use her lips, how to read Jody’s reactions. Ellie got bolder, her tongue moving faster, Jody’s hips rocking slightly.

Patricia added her own touch, kissing Jody’s neck while Ellie worked, her hands roaming over Jody’s breasts, tugging at her nipple rings. The air grew heavy with moans and the scent of arousal. Then Patricia guided Ellie to lie on the mat, legs spread. “Now you receive,” she said. Jody moved between Ellie’s thighs, licking her slowly, while Patricia knelt by Ellie’s head, stroking her hair. “Feel it, don’t fight it,” Patricia murmured. Ellie whimpered, her body tensing then relaxing as Jody’s tongue swirled, bringing her to a small, shuddering orgasm.

The session turned into a full threesome, blending teaching with raw eroticism. Patricia strapped on a dildo, smaller than the one used on the Prince but still firm, lubed up. She had Ellie bend over the bench, guiding the dildo into her pussy slowly. “Breathe,” Patricia said, echoing her own lessons. Ellie moaned, the stretch new but not painful. Patricia thrust gently, letting Ellie adjust, while Jody kissed Ellie’s mouth, their tongues tangling. The room filled with wet sounds and gasps, the three of them moving together.

To teach control, Patricia added light pain. She picked up a soft flogger, swinging it across Ellie’s back as she fucked her, the stings making Ellie gasp louder but also push back against the dildo. “See how it mixes?” Patricia asked, her voice warm. “Pain makes the pleasure sharper.” Jody joined in, using her fingers to rub Ellie’s clit, pushing her to another orgasm that made her cry out, her body shaking.

They switched roles. Jody took the strap-on, entering Ellie’s ass carefully after more lube, while Patricia lay under Ellie, licking her pussy. Ellie was overwhelmed, her moans turning to sobs of pleasure, her body caught between the two women. Patricia felt a rush of pride—she was guiding Ellie, helping her find the same freedom she’d found. They kept going, hours passing in a blur of positions—Ellie sucking Jody while Patricia fucked her, then Patricia riding Ellie’s face while Jody used the strap-on. Each orgasm Ellie had was a lesson, her body learning to let go, to trust.

Patricia’s own pleasure built too. Jody’s fingers found her pussy, fucking her hard while Ellie licked her, the two of them bringing Patricia to a screaming climax. The pain came for her too—Jody used a crop on her ass, sharp snaps that made her wetter, her orgasms piling up until she was dizzy with it. The three of them collapsed together on the mat, sweaty and panting, Ellie curled between them, safe and glowing.

After, they talked. Patricia shared more of her journey—how she’d gone from a scared recruit to a survivor of the Prince’s cruelty, then to Carl’s cherished blue. “You’ll find your place,” she told Ellie, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “It’s hard at first, but it’s worth it.” Ellie nodded, tears in her eyes, not from sadness but from feeling understood.

Patricia’s growth felt complete in those moments. She wasn’t just a survivor anymore—she was a guide, passing on what she’d learned. Her body, once broken by pain, now carried it with ease, turning it into pleasure and power. She thought back to the scars on her thighs, the hounds, the knots, and how they’d shaped her into someone who could lead Ellie through this world.

But as the session ended and they cleaned up, a small worry crept in. Patricia had been feeling off lately—tired, a bit nauseous, her breasts tender. She hadn’t told Carl or Jody yet, but she suspected she might be pregnant. Carl’s cum from the blue collar ceremony, or maybe their many nights since, could have taken root. The thought thrilled her but also scared her. A baby would change everything—her role in the Society, her place with Carl and Jody, her new life as a mentor. She kept it to herself for now, not ready to face what it might mean.

As they left the training room, Ellie hugged her tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered. Patricia smiled, feeling the weight of her blue collar and the new life possibly growing inside her. The Society’s shadows still held secrets—the Prince’s disappearance, Danielle’s possible schemes—but for now, Patricia was focused on Ellie, on guiding her, and on the new horizons opening up, even if they came with complications.