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Chapter 5: The Mistress.
I lost track of time, in a red mist of pure agony, all I could do was pray for the nightmare to end.
But she was relentless. I was now really at the mercy (or total lack of it) of a dominatrix who was naturally instinctively sadistic and got a great deal of sexual excitement inflicting pain. She was also totally indifferent to all the pain and torment a victim in her power must be experiencing - and furthermore, had no concept of normal client/mistress arrangements.
Very early in this session, I had quickly become completely bewildered and disorientated by the total transformation of our roles. At the start, I'd been somewhat condescending and too eager to display my huge experience almost as if to emphasize her obvious lack of expertise.
I probably would have been even more patronizing to a female so green and so young, but this one's stunning appearance and natural poise and self-assurance certainly inhibited me from taking too many liberties initially.
Now though, with her naturally authoritative self-assurance and instinctive dominance, blended with her extraordinarily cruel nature; she had assumed with terrifying ease, the role of the merciless enslaver of the fantasy.
Added to those unnerving personality traits was her incredible talent and inventiveness at inflicting torture. With me so utterly helpless and impotent and unable in any way to influence her activities; I had now, frankly, become far more frightened and terrified of this creature than of anyone I'd ever met in my life.
The fantasy I'd originally devised had now become as realistic as it was possible to imagine. Waves of pain flooded over me. Just when I though she'd reached a level where I just couldn't take any more - she'd up the torture to a new level.
Every time she approached me to savage my flesh yet again, I'd shriek and scream, trying within my very restricted range of movement, to indicate the agony I was experiencing.
But all my silent entreaties for the torture to end which must have been obvious, just seem excite and stimulate her even more.
How long I was into the session, how much utterly real excruciating agony I'd endured which was far more than I'd ever imagined possible to bear, when the inexplicable and magical changes started to happen - I can't remember for certain.
But before I describe the change, I must finally describe the dominatrix herself. I previously mentioned it was the sight of the mistress herself that stopped me from turning away from the place.
She was tall, actually taller than me in her high heels, with long, luxuriously shining dark hair. She had a beautiful face, with a fine bone structure, not the girl next-door type, but the face that could often look arrogant and disdainful, like some top fashion models.
Her wide, expressive eyes could fool one into believing you're the object of extreme affection one moment, but then chill your blood with sudden apprehension with a icy stare the next.
She had the sort of beauty that gave out warning signals that she could scornfully spurn any unwanted male overture and I certainly wouldn't have had the confidence to approach her had I seen her sitting alone.
In addition, she also had a sensational body, with long lovely legs to match. Her bare shoulders were quite broad making her large firm breasts appear perfectly proportionate.
Her waist was very slim and the tight latex flowed on down to outline the sublime curvature of her hips and backside.
When I followed her up the stairs initially, I was so entranced, I almost decided to change all my original ideas about the sort of session I was seeking and try a body worshipping slave type scenario with her.
But I was inexperienced as to how to proceed with that sort of scene, not being tempted that way with most mistresses and anyway, I didn't want the awkwardness of her refusing such a scenario on the first session.
She was wearing one of those incredibly sexy, figure hugging, black, shiny latex dresses, almost knee length and with thin shoulder straps, that one sees in latex fashion magazines and combined that with a tightly laced black waist girdle.
With her black patent leather stiletto type high-heeled shoes, black seamed nylons and elbow length black satin gloves, the whole effect was breathtaking.
The action of the tight shiny black latex moulding her perfect figure as she elegantly moved about was a sheer delight to observe and just that in itself was incredibly arousing early on when I was hanging on the hook waiting for the start.
And even had the session just comprised of me hanging there, the sight and subsequent memory of her just preparing to torture me would alone have still provided the subject matter for thousands of future masturbation fantasies.
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