Chloe - Dominated and Degraded

                                 Chloe - Dominated and Degraded -Chapter 20 (Revised)

       Jamela's playroom featured a custom made bed quite a bit larger than the standard king-size version. It was covered with black sheets, in stark contrast to the bone-white walls and wood flooring hidden in spots by black area rugs displaying exotic designs in gold and red. There was a vanity, overstuffed chair and a set of small, tastefully designed end pieces located on each side of the bed. Two huge photographs of a naked Jamela dominated the room. One located above the bed showed the woman standing, hands on hips, her powerful legs spread apart, her face glaring down as if she was staring at someone lying on those black sheets.

       The other was hung at right angles to the tall ebony inlaid cabinet that stood opposite the bed. It featured the dominatrix in a pose that made her appear almost as if she were coiled and ready to strike at some hidden foe or prey. Her body had been oiled for this study and it emphasized her muscular torso. This time her eyes were focused on something located a bit further away, perhaps requiring a step or two before she pounced like some jungle cat. Her new mistress made a mock bow and welcomed the slave-to-be into the inner sanctum where many a lost soul began her way to happiness, at least as defined by Jamela.

       Chloe, or was it Frances, was taken by surprise when the dominatrix produced a pair of silvery handcuffs from a drawer in her vanity and in one swift move pulled her hands behind her back and secured them with an ominous click. Jamela chuckled in that throaty way of hers and pushed the candidate slave towards the bed, announcing that it was time for her to show what she could do when properly stimulated. The mistress was far from gentle with the agent, using her open hands to slap those smallish, resculptured breasts back and forth until they were red and swollen. To the blonde, this was nothing compared to what she had been through during the last half year.

       Jamela was not amused at the resistance this mousy creature displayed. Many of her clients would have been begging for mercy at this point, but not this one. Spurred on by this breach of conduct, the black dominatrix began pinching her slave's nipples and then raking her breasts with her long, sharp fingernails, leaving a trail of scratches in their wake. After a time the scratches began to bleed, but still the frail-looking agent made no response. This called for sterner measures, which did not sit well with Jamela, who was used to being able to predict the period of resistance that those who visited her displayed. She left the bed and went to the cabinet. Upon opening, it revealed an arsenal of disciplining tools, restraints, and outfits that were part and parcel of Jamela's secret life.

       The blonde's eyes grew wide when her mistress withdrew from the depths of the cabinet a strap-on dildo, a pair of vibrators, one a large wheeled device, the other known by its users as a pocket rocket, a collection of clamps and clips for various portions of the female anatomy, and a riding crop. Jamela was about to give her slave the short course to make her realize just how overmatched she truly was. Both were in for big surprises. The black woman made Chloe/Frances assume the submissive position, head down, neck bent so that a portion of her face was flat against the sheet. The slave was on her knees, her less than perfect bottom elevated, with legs parted to make her orifices available for her mistress to use in any way she saw fit. The dominatrix wasted no time attempting to establish her utter and complete primacy over her stubborn candidate.

       The agent grunted in pain as the long, thick dildo strapped to Jamela's loins was slammed into her cunt with no concern for whether or not she was lubricating. Fortunately there was already some moisture available to assist the tool as it buried itself halfway into the slave's tight tunnel. Jamela had to work very hard to move the weapon any significant distance in either direction. It was as if the slave's cunt had clamped so tightly around the hard composite dildo that it was locked in place. It was an astonished dominatrix who tried and failed to extricate the toy from her victim's cunt. In a rage she began slapping the agent's bare bottom with heavy blows that turned into punches that made her adversary grunt from the shock and pain associated with each blow. Grudgingly the slave gave up the dildo until it popped from her tight sheath.

       Jamela rose until she towered over her helpless victim. She was determined to show the slim blonde who was in command. She held the head of the dildo steady and positioned it at the entrance to the slave's anus, poking against the tight muscle to let her know exactly where the next assault would be coming. At her initial contact something came over Chloe/Frances and acted to blot out any pain associated with the brutal entry that followed. This time the black woman was amazed at how easily she was able to penetrate the agent's defenses. Without any difficulty at all she found herself buried to the hilt in the white girl's asshole.

        How could this be? One moment that entry point was tight as a drum and the next it yielded totally and swallowed the invader whole. Who had taught her this trickery, and was it possible for Jamela to make her reveal her technique and teach her how to use it as well? Unfortunately it was nothing more than a reflex triggered by the neurotransmitters that were flowing through Chloe's blood stream. Her slave had no more knowledge of how she performed this seeming miracle as her mistress did.

       Once more the dildo was shifted back to Chloe's cunt and this time it slid in without any difficulty. Since Jamela had originally planned to screw her slave senseless, she decided to take what she was given. After a deep breath to regain her composure, she set about bending Frances to her will, or so she thought. Each stroke went the limit, and soon she was hitting bottom against the slave's cervix. The agent seemed oblivious to the pounding that the dominatrix delivered, which frustrated the woman no end. Now the slave wannabe's cunt conformed in every possible way and dimension to the nearly foot long toy attached to Jamela's hips by the straps. In a sense it was enjoyable, and yet every stroke was an admission of defeat, since the victim seemed not to feel anything. Finally she withdrew and gave Frances a vicious slap to the bottom, leaving a livid imprint on the agent's ass cheek.

       "No skinny white girl is going to make a fool out of this black woman! Now you get that scrawny butt down on my sheets and spread those legs as wide as you can. Once I'm done chaining your ankles to the bed posts we are going to see how many times you can come for your mistress before the batteries in my vibrator quit."

       As it turned out, it took more than just a pair of vibrators to get Chloe/Frances to have an orgasm. Even when Jamela held the pocket rocket against the agent's clit and ran the wheeled version up and down her slit, there was no response worth talking about. The black dominatrix found herself going back and forth from the bed to the cabinet to get more toys and tools to apply to what should have been the hot spots on her reluctant, willful slave, who was becoming more and more of a challenge as the evening wore on. Jamela had not reached the position she held by giving into her emotions except on rare occasions, and then for only brief periods of time.

       She accepted what was occurring and looked upon this struggle as an opportunity to grow and become even more powerful. This acted to contain her frustration for a time. Jamela began imagining what  this enhanced power might enable her to do to some of those clients who drove her to distraction at times, which amused her no end. She soon found herself refreshed and beginning to enjoy this contest of the wills. It was rare when she was matched against someone with at least a working spine.

       The dominatrix must have gone through a dozen different types of clamps and clips that she applied to every erogenous spot on the agent's body that she could reach. At one time the slave's smallish tits were covered by no less than eighty clips and clamps. Jamela was hard pressed to believe that she would fail to respond normally, others with much larger breasts who had taken half that number would cry or even beg for relief. Infuriated, Jamela used the riding crop to whip the biting devils from the slim blonde agent's tits. To her amazement there was no response to the whipping. Later she had two densely packed rows of sharp-toothed clips cutting into the thin lips bordering the entrance to the agent's cunt. The blonde failed to react, even when her assailant added a cruel screw-clamp to her fat clit, and tightened it down to its limit, creating enough stress to bring the fat lump of sex flesh to the verge of separating from its moorings. 

       Jamela screwed on one set of spiders after another in a vain attempt to stiffen the slave's nipples so they could be stimulated further by other toys that waited to be used. Jamela even deigned to use her mouth to harden those flaccid nubbins. Once she surrendered to her passions and bit down hard on the mousy blonde's nipple, to no avail. The slave seemed to have some type of inherent defense mechanism that made her impervious to the heavy duty pain that these devices and Jamela's teeth normally caused in her subjects.

       A frustrated Jamela took to smothering Chloe/Frances, planting her plump pussy on the agent's face and making sure that her nose was buried in the folds of that hot, dripping cunt. Twice her victim passed out, but when revived, continued her passive resistance. The black woman decided to return to her slave's cunt. Soon she had those thin, pink cunt lips clamped with one of her favorite toys, binder clips, and stretched to their limit by the seventy pound test line connected to the velcro bands girding the agent's thighs. Jamela knew they were at their limit since she could almost read a newspaper through the stretched tissue. Next she used a small clip to keep the hood guarding the slave's clitoris from protecting the hot button. Now the black woman settled down to see what the application of various vibrators would have on her trainee.

       First she went back to her heavy duty favorite, the huge industrial wheel type that ground that nubbin of swollen flesh flat, and tunneled relentlessly between those translucent sheets of tissue that normally guarded the sex trench it was traversing. Fifteen minutes of steady pressure proved fruitless. The dominatrix switched back to another favorite she had deliberately held in reserve. It was a custom built pocket rocket that had been souped up to deliver power unheard of in devices of this type. She realized from her previous failure using the standard model that her recalcitrant adversary needed something out of the ordinary. So Chloe/Frances now experienced the superior power from an array of miniature heads all buzzing away in a pattern that provided never-ending stimulation to the helpless blonde.

       All the while Chloe seemed to feel as if she were floating in space above the body that once was her property. She could see and understand what that fleshy hot button was experiencing, but somehow the connection from the seat of her sexuality to her brain was broken or nulled out by some other force that she could not control nor understand. It was strange to watch the black dominatrix grow increasingly frustrated as the high speed vibrator did everything but turn her clitoris to mush.

       Jamela pulled out all the stops. Now it was her physical power versus whatever was protecting the mousy blonde agent from buckling to her will. She donned a leather glove and greased it with one of her favorite irritants, chili pepper paste. The grinning black woman began working that gloved fist up into her slave's yielding cunt. It was slow but steady going as the agent's cunt widened to accommodate the big lump of leather that was inching toward her cervix. The lack of reaction infuriated Jamela and she moved her fist from side to side, attempting to get some type of reaction from the inert body lying beneath her. Finally she was at her goal and still no response. In anger she began punching away at the entrance to the woman's womb. With her other hand she slapped Frances across the face, but still no reaction.

       Enraged to a level she had not experienced more than once or twice in her career, Jamela lost it and attacked the slave with her teeth, worrying the flesh of her pert breasts and then clamping down on her shoulder, leaving a bite mark that would take many weeks to completely heal. This abrupt attack and its ferocity seemed to rouse the blonde from the trance to which she had escaped. Still not happy with the overall response from Frances/Chloe, the black dominatrix attacked her vulnerable cunt, tearing into the pink flesh with a fury. Her teeth captured the slave's clit and worried it as if she was a terrier and the swollen nubbin was some type of small prey.

       All hell broke lose! Frances/Chloe's eyes opened, blinked twice and then she let out a scream that would have brought the neighbors running from two floors below except for the sound-proofing that Jamela had installed in her apartment when she moved into it. This was followed immediately by a shower of liquid that issued from her cunt and drenched the dominatrix from head to chest. It came as a distinct shock, she'd never experienced a squirter before this. The slim, blonde agent sat up and despite the bonds holding her legs far apart, did her best to head butt her mistress, who backed off in disarray over this unexpected revolt from her new trainee. Chloe/Frances was almost as shocked as her mistress over this unexpected behavior that her former body brought  into play. That strange brew of chemicals that had been installed within her body once more had responded when faced with a threat that could be interpreted as lethal.

       Fortunately for all concerned, Frances, Chloe and still a trace of Magda, Jamela dismissed the response of her slave candidate to agent training that had come into play once she was attacked physically. The secretary made a mental note to keep this one under restraints at all time, fearing a repetition of her strange behavior. The business with the squirting was one of curiosity rather than anger. Jamela would have to learn more about this phenomenon, and soon. As for the moment, she was thankful that the undersheet on the bed was made of rubber, which prevented some serious damage being done to her frightfully expensive mattress. She decided that she would put agent Connolly to work repairing the mess she had made. This way she would be focused on something more mundane and non-threatening, thus not likely to revive her sudden assault on her mistress.

       It took nearly an hour before order was restored to Jamela's bedroom. By then she was satisified that her slave had returned to her former docile self. What the new day would bring was problematic, but Jamela would be on her guard, that much was assured. She allowed her slave to shower and use the chamberpot before she was recuffed and chained by one ankle to the foot of the dominatrix's bed, covering her with a blanket of lightweight but warm material that would easily fend off any chill that might develop during the early morning hours. After her shower she crawled beneath the fresh sheets and nodded off to sleep, her mind still busy trying to understand what had transpired this evening and planning what would occur tomorrow when she had two clients visiting her for some special training. She was sure that her new slave would occupy a role in these two sessions.

                                                       (To be continued-lex ludite)