The Continuing Pleasures of the Mistress

*at the humble bequest of “slave2isis”*

The Mistress smiled lay on her luxurious bed as she had myriad slaves parade her new wardrobe before it was to be organized by her personal suite staff.  Of course the robust healthy white males kept their eyes downcast and their penises flaccid.  The ready whips of her personal bodyguards were eager to touch their tender skin in punishment.  The slaves were performing against a losing battle as the Mistress had a young female slave orally pleasuring her shaved clit.  The unfortunate slave was chained to her stiletto-heeled thigh boots and the Mistress used her as a convenient boot rest.  The boot sole razor spikes dug into the pretty pink flesh along with razor-edged spurs.  With the gathering climax came the whimpering of injured flesh which was quickly quieted by a swift slap of her spiked riding crop.  The Mistress lazily grabbed the girl’s blond curls which were pasted to her cum-soaked face.  She smiled indulgently as she ripped whole sections out of her scalp.  The slave was not allowed to scream so she just had to keep downcast eyes and prayed silently for mercy.  The Mistress casually tossed the loosened hair onto the floor near her and wiped her bloody gloved hands on the remaining blond curls.  She then leaned back onto the plush pillows and put the tip of the riding crop on the slave’s head and directed her to finish the lovely worship of her vagina.  The Mistress’s personal slave/assistant crawled over immediately at the slight wave of his Superior’s gloved fingers.  She addressed him leisurely, “Piece of shit, what is the progress of my weekend entertainment?”  He cowered with pleasure and fear as he answered humbly, “My Mistress and Goddess above all others, your plans are going right on schedule.  They will be arriving later this evening.”  The Mistress thought pleasurable of her latest acquisition for entertainment.  A few weeks ago, the Mistress happened to watch the latest “Miss Universe” competition on the television.  She usually ignored such vapid fluff, but the sheer idiocy of the winner infuriated her.  The lovely blond hair girl had the audacity to state that her mission was to “save the unfortunate people of Africa”.  As an African lady of royal descent, the Mistress took great pride in her heritage and continent.  She had a particular disdain for the Caucasian race and took great pleasure in the torture of her Caucasian slaves.  She was constantly reminded of her and her fellow brethren’s superiority over their pitiful race.  She decided that the new beauty “queen” would be a fitting sacrifice for her worship and enjoyment. 

Bridgette “Birdie” Williams wiped the slight glow of perspiration from her brow as she took a swallow of lukewarm water.  As the new reigning “Miss Universe”, she expected better treatment.  “Oh my god, is there any air conditioning in this plane!?” she snidely commented.  Brent Monroe, her long-time boyfriend, echoed her complaining with his own.  “Don’t you know who we are?  There should be better service for us!”  The young African stewardess inwardly groaned as she pasted a fake smile and tried to accommodate her two rude passengers.  Her smile became genuine as she thought about what would soon befall these two.  Her mistress would handle these two fools correctly.  Bridgette and Brent were taking an unpublished Caribbean vacation before she started the duties of “Miss Universe” for the following year.  They hired a private plane to take them to their destination.  Unbeknownst to them, the Mistress had orchestrated a daring escapade to bring them to her private island estate.  She was going to have the pilot detour them from their planned route, switch the couple for a slave couple that looked like them, bring the prizes to her, and crash the plane.  The pilot was easily bribed with a few thousand dollars, thinking he was bringing Birdie to an adoring, wealthy fan.  He was also glad to be soon rid of the constant complaining and haughty attitude of the young couple.  Little did he know that he would not get to enjoy his ill-gotten profit.  The stewardess checked her watch and saw that it was time to set the plan in motion.  She motioned to the pilot to begin the descent and sardonically explained the sudden detour to the young couple.  “Miss Williams, Mr. Monroe, we sincerely apologize for the delay that we are experiencing.  The pilot has to refuel for the final part of the flight and this is the closest refueling port available.  We do not wish to inconvenience you anymore than we have already.  Again, I sincerely apologize for not accommodating such esteemed passengers of our airline company.”  The false humble words went straight to the heads of the lovely couple.  Bridgette nodded in agreement and deigned to answer the girl, “Yes, this has been an awful flight.  Your president will certainly hear of our ill-treatment.  I might reconsider if the rest of the trip is handled properly.  You may serve our drinks now.”  Brent ignored the stewardess as he began making out with Bridgette.  The young girl went to the bar to fix their drinks, but added an extra ingredient.  Within fifteen minutes, the couple was unconscious.  The plane descended into its final approach and stopped along the runway.  A truck with four of the Mistress’s African guards and the two white slave body doubles pulled along side the plane door.  The exchange was made quickly and efficiently.  The stewardess handed the pilot a sealed suitcase with his bribe money and went with the truck.  The plane was soon off in the setting Caribbean sun.         

A butler brought a silver platter with a white card and bowed next to the bed.  The Mistress lifted the card, read the simple message, and smiled.  She dismissed the butler from her presence and dug her boots deeper into the slave girl’s back that was licking her clit.  The male slaves had finished putting her wardrobe into one of the closets and were standing at attention awaiting her next command.  One slave’s penis rose in rebellion, and he started crying and begging for forgiveness.  The Mistress nodded at one of her guards and he brought over a large metal box with a single hole in its side.  The rebellious slave was shackled to the box and his penis was pushed into the hole.  The guard handed the Mistress a remote and bowed, leaving the shackled slave in view between the slaves and the Mistress’s bed.  She addressed the slave finally as she looked away from him.  “You dare to be erect in my presence without my permission!  You wish for pleasure so much, I will give you what you ask for!”  She pressed a button on the remote and internal razors slowly began to shred his penis like cheese.  His inhuman screams, bucking, and thrashing were ignored as the Mistress enjoyed another round of orgasms.  She waved her spiked riding crop and the standing slaves were dismissed from the room.  She had the wounded slave left for her continued enjoyment.  The Mistress tired with her female slave and had a guard unshackle her from her boots.  The girl lay panting like a dog from her continuous licking.  The Mistress put her spiked boot sole on the girl’s face and slowly pushed her off the bed.  The slave fell with a thud.  The Mistress put her stiletto heel into the girl’s mouth as the girl started sucking vigorously.  The slave showed renewed devotion to escape her fellow slave’s fate.  The Mistress picked up the remote and ordered a guard to position the standing slave’s arm into the metal box hole.  She laughed at the bloody stump where the slave’s penis used to be and pushed the button again.  Lovely screams again escaped from her male slave as the razors did their work.  The personal assistant/slave brought the Mistress’s attention to the fact that the plane was arriving to the predestined location.  With a chuckle, the Mistress ordered the room’s projection screen to be lowered.  A map appeared, displaying great detail and the plane’s location.  With a push of another button on the same remote, the blinking light of the plane disappeared from view.  The Mistress smiled contentedly.  Her plan worked beautifully….as it always does. 

Bridgette awoke with darkness and a headache.  She gingerly tried to move, but found her movements restricted.  She tried to call out, but was greeted with a swift blow.  Her last conscious thought was of Brent. 

The Mistress rose from her bed, pushing the slave girl over.  She stood on her helpless back and looked down at her new “rug”.  She laughed as she commented, “Oops, I stepped in shit, I need to wipe my boots off…”  She then proceeded to grind the boot spikes further into the tortured flesh.  “What do you say, worm?”  “Thank you Mistress for this privilege of you touching your unworthy slave with your beautiful boots!” the slave managed through her screams.  The Mistress imperiously presented her boot soles to be licked clean by the girl.  The slave gingerly licked, but with a cutting stab of the Mistress’s boot heel, quickly picked up the pace.  Her face and mouth were cut terribly by the spikes, but she continued.  One could only obey the Goddess above all. 

Brent awoke to sounds of moaning and crying.  He tried to look around, but his head was immobile.  After trying to relax for a few moments, he was able to look a little.  He was in a large concrete room, chained to a wall.  This much he could determine by testing his limbs.  There was limited movement.  Cool air greeted his naked flesh.  He could not look down, but he felt the grit of the wall digging into his back.  He was alone as best he could determine.  He started yelling for help, but no one came to his rescue.  He continued for awhile until his voice got hoarse. 

After a few more boot licks from the slave girl, the Mistress decided to greet her new entertainment.  She had her personal assistant/slave and her bootlicker crawl behind her, along with her retinue of bodyguards.  She walked to her bedroom’s private torture chambers.  She viewed Birdie with disdain.  The girl was hanging from a steel bar attached to the ceiling; her feet were secured to the floor.  Her disheveled clothes and hair were a testament to her rough treatment by the guards who handled her.  The Mistress used the tip of her spiked riding crop to lift Birdie’s head.  The girl sputtered her anguish, “Who are you?  Where am I?  What’s going on?”  The Mistress waved a gloved hand and a guard rushed to slap the helpless girl into silence.  The Mistress regally walked over to her waiting throne in front of the hanging specimen, her stiletto heels echoing in the large room.  The bootlicking girl was directed back to her boots and eagerly began to worship the Mistress again.  She addressed the “beauty queen” with unbridled disgust, “You are shit.  You are in the presence of your Superior.  You are my personal entertainment.  I believe that I have sufficiently answered your foolish outburst.  You will be silent in my presence.  You will obey every command I deign to speak to you.  You will amuse me.  You will finally be executed for my gratification.”  Birdie began speaking again without permission, and was pummeled in the face by the guard near her.  The Mistress put her left boot on the face of the bootlicking slave girl and her right boot on the face of another waiting slave girl.  With slight pressure, the matching blonde slaves began licking the dirty spiked boot soles and sucking the stiletto heels of their Goddess.  Another slave crawled over, bringing refreshments for the pleasure of the Mistress’s palate.  Birdie watched dumbfounded as she sobbed in pain and confusion.  “Whip the piece of shit in front of me, it is making noise.” The Mistress coldly commanded.  The guard eagerly began whipping the still-clothed woman.  Her shrieks of pain echoed across the entire chamber.  Finally, Birdie became quiet as her blood-soaked back and thighs dripped steadily on the floor.  “Bitch, I told you the rules once.  I do not repeat myself for a piece of shit.  I was informed of your need to save the poor people of Africa.  How dare you presume to rise above the garbage that you are a part?  My people ruled this planet for centuries while your ancestors crawled around in caves and each other.  I will teach you before you die how worthless you are and how superior the African people are.  You whites are only good as slaves and entertainment.”  The Mistress decided to show Birdie a fitting example of her brethren’s superiority.  She addressed her closest bodyguard, “Nelson, please shit in the toilet.”  Birdie’s chains were lowered enough so that her face was level with the arse of the man.  Having her mouth locked open with a steel device; the man proceeded to shit in the young girl’s mouth.  He wiped thoroughly and put the toilet paper in Birdie’s open orifice.  Shocked by the inhumanity of the action, she offered no resistance.  “Don’t forget to flush the toilet.” The Mistress ordered calmly.  The bodyguard whipped her back again with his bullwhip and Birdie swallowed every bit of the disgusting gift.  By this time, her clothes were but rags on her bloodied, bruised body.  The Mistress ordered her cleaned up.  Using scalding hot water blasting full-force from a hose, Birdie was washed like an animal in a barn.  When it over, she was sufficiently clean and cowered.  She now understood what she was….lower than shit.  With a slight wave of her gloved hand, a guard brought over a red hot branding iron.  “Shit, you are my property and you must be marked properly.  Go ahead.”  With no more warning, Birdie was roughly grabbed and branded on her face.  An inhuman yell came from the girl, and she was viciously kicked by a steel-toed boot of a guard.  A spiked dog collar was also strapped tightly to her neck and the leash handed to the Mistress.  She grabbed the leash quickly, pulling Birdie’s injured check against the rough floor of the torture chamber.  The two bootlicking slaves were grounded under the spiked boot soles as the Mistress stood up and yanked her entertainment’s leash again.  She pulled Birdie’s head to her own arse and proceeded to lift her skirt.  She placed Birdie’s head on the throne’s seat and sat fully on her face.  The Mistress sighed as she started to shit in the girl’s mouth.  Birdie learned quickly to eat and breathe in rhythm to the Mistress’s bowel movement.  The bootlicking slaves were almost unconscious as they kept being cut by the Mistress’s spiked boots.  Their performance began to displease the Mistress.  She calmly commanded them to be disposed of immediately.  One of the bodyguards put his gun into the first girl’s mouth and pulled the trigger.  The back of her head disappeared in a red cloud.  The second girl had the same fate.  The room was cleaned and more slaves were sent to serve the Mistress’s needs.  The Mistress finished with her toilet, wiped, and flushed.  Birdie was left with a shit-stained face and gasping for breath.  The Mistress coldly asked Birdie what she was.  Tearfully and terrified, Birdie answered correctly.  She kicked her new slave viciously, sprawling her on the rough floor.  “It is time to see how my other property is doing.”  The Mistress arose, grabbed Birdie’s leash, and walked regally to Brent’s cell, dragging the humiliated girl behind her.         

Brent looked up as the door of his cell opened up.  Before him stood something out of his wildest imagination.  A dark-skinned beautiful woman in thigh-high leather boots, gloves, and leather suit was holding a riding crop and the leash to his girlfriend Birdie Williams.  Birdie was injured, covered in blood, and shit-faced.  She was also kneeling at the boots of the leather vision before him.  He thought he was dreaming.  An arrogant voice said loudly, “Ahh, the shit is awake.  Prepare it for my pleasure.”  With that, Brent was released from the chains bounding him to the wall.  He fell painfully to the floor and tried to stand.  A swift kick kept him on the floor and a guard’s boot was placed on his neck.  The guard snarled, “A dog like you does not stand in the presence of the Goddess.”  The Mistress ignored him as she sat on the throne at the other end of the cell.  Brent started screaming protests and questions.  In response, the guard kicked him again in silence while the Mistress looked on.  With an exaggerated sigh, she addressed her guards and prostrate slaves.  “White shit is so disgusting.  Shit is silent, isn’t it?”  A few guards voiced agreement.  The Mistress continued, “Shit is to be wiped away, right?”  Again, affirmations echoed in the large room.  With that said, the Mistress motioned for the room’s large screen television to be turned on.  With shock displayed on Birdie’s and Brent’s faces, they all watched countless channels recounting the tragic deaths of the recent “Miss Universe” and her boyfriend and pilot in a plane explosion.  The commentators echoed the unfortunate accident that was still being investigated and the Miss Universe committee dealing with this unprecedented situation.  Other stories told of Birdie’s rise in the beauty competition world and Brent’s personal achievements.  The Mistress let the viewing go on for a few more moments and then had the television turned off.  She viciously kicked Birdie in the face and commanded her to start licking the front of her boots.  Brent, even in his painful state, could only stare in wonder at the scene in front of him.  His penis started getting hard and he tried to rub the head on the hard cement floor.  The Mistress knew exactly what was happening and called attention to his actions.  “White shit always forgets its place.  This piece is becoming excited.  It still does not realize that I am its Owner and I will use it as I wish.”  “Shit, crawl to your Goddess on your belly.”  Brent, without another thought, crawled like a worm towards the throne.  The Mistress gazed at him imperiously and commanded him to start jerking off in front of her.  He was not, however, to cum.  The Mistress started massaging her leather boots and running her riding crop along the boot seams.  Brent was trying hard not to disobey.  The Mistress unzipped her leather jacket and fingering her large brown nipples encased in a tight leather bustier.  He could not hold it anymore.  Right before he came, the Mistress ordered Birdie to put his penis in her mouth and swallow his cum.  He had so much that some fell from Birdie’s mouth onto the floor.  This displeased her Owner greatly.  She came off of her throne in a rage and began pulling out chunks of Birdie’s waist-length blonde hair.  When she finished, no hair was left of the girl’s head.  She began screaming for mercy.  This only infuriated the Mistress more because she had earlier told the piece of shit to be silent in her presence.  While two guards held her upright, the Mistress kicked her in the face until her jaw was broken in several places.  The Mistress said coldly, “It seems that this mouth of yours keeps getting you into trouble.  I’m going to fix this permanently.”  A guard handed the Mistress a large pair of pliers and she proceeded to rip every tooth out of the girl’s gums. Blood streamed out of her mouth and the Mistress decided to torture her more.  She had her spiked bullwhip handed to her.  With an expert technique, she lashed Birdie’s face while not touching the guards holding her.  The Mistress enjoyed a flute of champagne as she cooled off from her exertions.  As she sat back down on her throne, she ordered Brent to pleasure her clit.  She had not forgotten that he was to be punished for his earlier disobedience, but she deserved fun for herself.  While he had his head up her leather skirt, licking vigorously, the Mistress talked to Birdie.  “This feels so good.  His tongue is pressing lightly against my pleasure nub.  Ahh, now he’s sucking ever so gently.  Hmm, is this what is felt like for you?  Oh no, of course not, you aren’t a beautiful African lady.  You are shit.  I might keep him as one of my pleasure slaves….or not.  You, however, are going to permanently become what you are.  I have decided to turn you in a toilet for my guard house.  Nelson informed me that the last slave toilet stopped working so they had to get rid of her or it or whatever.  Your mouth is now loose enough to be encased in the toilet mechanism.  If you’re a good slave, I might even let Brent shit in your mouth.  But I don’t really care who does.  You are now furniture and no longer my concern.  Guards, deal with her.”  Birdie had no fight left in her as she was laid out in a pexi-glass “coffin” with a funnel tube attached to her mouth.  It was sealed permanently and left in front of the Mistress’s throne.  She would be later attached to a fully-functioning clear toilet in the guard house.  She would never be removed until she stopped “functioning”.  She could only silently watch the proceedings around her.  The Mistress had Brent stop licking her after three delicious orgasms.  His mouth was amazing, but he still had to learn his place.  She had Brent crawl to Birdie’s coffin, and place his erect penis on the edge of the box near her head.  The Mistress then proceeded to ground the penis into a flattened mass of tissue and blood with her razor-spiked boot heel.  Brent could only silently scream at the pain as Birdie watched in horror.  The Mistress then lit a long clove cigarette in an onyx holder and used his open mouth as her ashtray.  As she smoked, she sawed Brent’s penis off his body with her stiletto boot heel.  The detached penis fell on the floor.  She regally commanded Brent to lift his own penis and place it on the top of the pexi-glass box.  He had to hold it while the Mistress ground it up even more.  She had him take the ground pieces from individual boot spikes and throw them into Birdie’s funnel mouth.  The Mistress pissed into the clear tube and wiped and tossed her toilet paper in there also.  The Mistress commanded Birdie to flush, and she had to obey or she would drown from the waste.  The Mistress then stepped on Brent’s bloody stump while she whipped his face with her spiked riding crop.  She decided he was not worthy enough to be a pleasure slave.  She announced that she decided to make him into a urinal for the guard house also.  She jokingly addressed her guards, “See, I do try to keep up with the maintenance occasionally.”  The guards laughed in response.  The Mistress had Brent lick his blood and penis-bits from Birdies’ coffin and the floor.  She cauterized Brent’s stump with a red-hot poker, all the while enjoying his screams of anguish.  With a toss of her gloved hand, the Mistress dismissed Brent and sat back down on her throne while she watched her guards prepare their new urinal.  One guard held Brent down while another guard smashed his jaw with steel-toed boots.  After removing Brent’s now useless teeth, the guards attached a large funnel-shaped pexi-glass bowl to his mouth, permanently securing it.  Using specialized nails, the guards nailed Brent’s hand and feet to a solid base.  His screams were muffled by his new attachment.  Before the new toilets were carted away, the Mistress showed them the newly crowned “Miss Universe”….a lovely African lady.  The two muffled screams of madness while the Mistress had her boots cleaned by a new bootlicking pair of white slaves.  All was as it should be, and the Mistress smiled.