Dream Date with a Domme?

Commissioned by Mistress Spider.

Written by slave  781-524-112.

1.First Contact.

A box arrives, delivered by the concierge, recorded delivery, needs a signature.

i have to sign for a package covered in pink wrapping paper, addressed to ‘sissy slave slut’ and then my real name, not my slave one.

Cocked eyebrow from the young lad as i sign somewhat embarrassed. i open the box, briefly  examine the contents but it is tightly packed. Look  for a letter of explanation. There is none.

Am i supposed to leave the contents in the box, wear them, what? Almost immediately the phone rings.

‘Put on the clothes and the rest, wait until you hear the door then do as you are instructed, say nothing. Failure to comply will cease our arrangement.’   A firm female voice.  The Mistress i contacted last week

Click. Line dead. Hadn’t had time to formulate a question let alone ask one.

i reach into the box and root around in it but do not look, there are textures of metal, latex, lace, leather.

Stripping off my clothes, my cock hardens, my breathing quickens. i put on as much of the contents of the box as i can, but it is fairly obvious that some of the items i will need help with. How the hell am i supposed to comply if there is no way of doing it on my own?

The door bell rings, barely 30 minutes have passed since the phone call.

Shit, can’t answer the door like this who the hell is it? Three very firm thumps on the door, ‘Open the door, freak,’ says the masculine voice on the other side.

Christ, no argument there, i open the door to find a six foot plus black guy in an immaculate chauffeur outfit standing there, with a ‘don’t even fucking think about it’ look on his face.

Think about what? Dressed like this?

‘Turn away from me and kneel, you freak’, he orders.

i hesitate out of lack of comprehension rather than disobedience. Bad move. I am spun round and a foot hits the back of my legs and i am on my knees. My arms are ripped up behind my back and are clicked into the steel manacles attached to the contraption at my back that is fastened round my neck also. One question answered then

i am hauled up on my feet , jesus, i’m no little guy and i’m being slung about like a rag doll.

He marches off down the corridor towards the lifts, i am left in little doubt that I must follow, must remember not to speak but the door is open still. No matter, i follow anyway, hope that no-one decides to put their room service tray out just now for my sake and theirs.

We go down in the lifts, he has a name in my head, Shadow, he makes no noise as he moves, is obviously an athlete of some kind. Christ. The lift goes straight to the parking basement, where a jet black Range Rover sits, immaculately clean.

He opens the tailgate, it is kitted out in bars, presumably for a big dog. Next thing i know i’m in it. Cage locked, tailgate shut, the Rangie purrs off, big V-8 thrum going through my prostrate body.

Who is this woman?

2.Arrival

i sleep. What the…? How can I fall asleep in this predicament? Awake as the big 4x4 glides to a halt.

The tailgate opens and i am ushered out and on to my feet. My back is stiff, i try to stretch, but ‘Shadow’ whops me in the kidneys and pushes me up to the house door. ‘Move it, freak!’

The black door opens as we approach. i have a curious vision of approaching  No 10 and wondering what they would make up of me turning up there,  looking like this. Don’t think i would be let in, ha ha.

Whump! Another not-so-gentle dig in my naked back, just below the steel strap with my wrists fastened to it, elbows bent , useless.

‘Enter’.

A voice in the dark corridor beyond the door, female, but  hard to tell wearing the leather hood.  A quick assessment of the house, what i can see of it through the small eye holes. Georgian, big hall-way, heavy doors leading off it, ornamental staircase going upstairs just in front of me, opulent, classy.

‘Head down, slave!’ the voice says. Instinctively i look up to see the owner of the voice.

‘Fuck!’ i cry out, as my head snaps to the side with the force of the slap.

‘Are you deaf and stupid, or just one of those?’  The voice says in a calm tone, but with an under-

current of violence.

The steel collar connected to my wrists at my back is grabbed and my head is dragged forward viciously.

‘Embarrass me, slave, in front of my friends and you will wish you had never contacted me and arranged this…meeting.’

Friends!! Holy shit, I never said anything about other people! It was enough being dragged here by Basalt-Man. Now there are others?

i smell her breath, a hint of red wine, more than a hint of garlic. She’s not a vampire then at least. i think of some weird shit when i’m crapping myself.

‘Listen to me and listen well’, she continues, her face only inches from mine. ‘You asked to meet me for an evening of humiliation and servitude and that the choice of method would be my own. No pre-ordained, top-from –the-bottom scenario, but my choice as your master, you said’.

‘Well this is it, you stupid worm. You have bitten off a big mouthful of the unknown and very soon your night of fantasy will turn into a night of reality. Handle it and prosper, or wilt and flounder and be cast out. This is your only choice.’

What do i say? i didn’t expect this, a bit of slapping about and whipping,  perhaps over her knee, but not this.  What do I say?  i’m not supposed to say anything anyway.

‘Come, worm,’ she leads me to one of the doors leading off the hall, ‘enter this room and remain within, no matter what, or do not enter and return to your hotel and wonder what might have been, forever. I shall order the taxi myself should you decide to wimp out.’

Taxi! Looking like this. For fuck’s sake, what sort of choice is that?

A choice, but not really a choice at all?  She knows her stuff.

‘Your lack of a response indicates that you continue to follow my instructions and therefore are prepared to enter and progress. Excellent, you are brave aswell as stupid.’

And so, it begins, my ‘dream date with a Domme’.

God help me.

3.Meeting

My eyes are covered, with a flap on the hood, it is somehow, comforting…ostrich syndrome, what i can’t see can’t hurt me.

‘You must enter under your own volition, you will not be forced. Choose!’

One step in the dark, then two, then three, a pause, i am gently guided into the room by my crossed elbows.

Through the hood i barely detect the others, more a sense of feel rather than hearing, there is an expectant heat, somehow. It is hot actually, but that is good after all i am naked from the waist up and not exactly warmly clad below.

For whatever reason i kneel myself and feel the cuffs around my ankles being fastened to the steel manacles at the small of my back and in that one instant i am totally immobilised. No going back now, though in truth, it was never an option from the instant i set foot out of the hotel door.

‘Open your mouth, worm.’

i comply and a metal contraption is pushed in my mouth through the hood aperture, which is then expanded and my jaws are forced open uncomfortably. Then something fairly solid feeling is passed into my mouth and just short of the back of my throat and is then strapped behind my head. Tightly.

It is impossible not to work the gag in my mouth and it takes a while to relax with the obstruction and accept that i am going to drool like a lunatic. After a few minutes I finally relax and begin to listen intently while my skin feels hyper sensitive and seems to sense movement by the air flowing around the hairs on my arms and torso.

But not on my legs.

‘I like the stockings, a nice touch them being rubber,’ says a voice, another female.

‘But why pink for heaven’s sake?’ says another faceless voice, male this time though.

‘Does it get any more humiliating than pink rubber stockings and stiletto ankle boots?’ a third voice, another female, lighter this one, inquisitive. ‘on a man, at least.’

‘I think they are rather fetching, actually.’ Was that yet another female voice or one i’d heard already? ‘At least he didn’t have to shave his legs.’

A ripple of laughter stops suddenly.

‘This worm is my slut for tonight and is here for my amusement, not yours.’

‘You may, however, suggest methods of debasement and I will consider them, but only one each, so please decide wisely’

Mistress has spoken.

‘Can he go in the ball stock while we make up our minds, Mistress?’ One of the ‘ladies’ asks.

‘Very well, that would be acceptable, see to it, while I go and fix a drink.’

My ankles are released and i am lifted to my feet by someone, a few steps forward and i am nudged onto a plinth of some kind, i sense it by the click of my heels on wood. My pink lace knickers are pulled down unceremoniously and i feel fingers playing about with my tackle. Something cold and unyielding is clamped round my balls, if only they knew i actually love that feeling.

After a second or two though the clamp is yanked upwards and my balls are stretched up near my navel as the clamp is fastened solid at that height, insisting i lift onto my toes a little, pretty tough in high heels, especially for a bloke.

‘Good, strap his thighs to the upright and leave him.’ Mistress’s voice again. She is obviously calling the shots.

The room goes quiet as i stand and contemplate my fate, heels relaxing to the floor as my balls accommodate to the stretch

4. Beginning

Some time passes, hard to know how much, in complete silence, my balls are aching a little, but that doesn’t bother me, i writhe against the bonds to check their integrity perhaps but mainly to pull my sack some more. i am in control of that at least. Maybe that was the reason for strapping the thighs, to limit my movement. She doesn’t know me though, so how would she know i enjoy ball stretching?

In fact how did she know my shoe size and neck size come to that?

Then it dawns on me, she sent a form for me to mail back to her, brief likes and dislikes and some bodily dimensions. Thought it was a bit odd at the time. All makes sense now,  maybe i am a bit thick.

i sense a body close by, hadn’t appreciated quite how much this hood dulls my hearing. Then i feel the gag move slightly, lifting my head upwards a touch.

‘Drink, worm.’

What? How do I dr….

Liquid enter s my throat through the gag, it must have a hole in it then, the liquid is warm, a little acrid, not pleasant. I shake my head only to have my leather clad cheek slapped hard again.

‘I said, drink, worm.’

The liquid continues into my throat, too deep an entry for my tongue, so hard to taste it properly and discern what it is. Is she drugging me? Jesus, i hope not, not into that shit. Anyway why would she need to i am here of my own free(?) will and am pretty well incapacitated anyhow? The gag must have some sort of tube on it, I guess.

The liquid stops draining into my throat, can’t say it exactly quenched my thirst, probably the whole idea.

‘Emm. How would you like this worthless, piss- drinking slut to begin its evening?’

What? Piss? Oh for crying out loud, that was the drink she was fixing; completely threw me off the scent. Ha, funny. If i’d have smelled it i would have known what the hell it was i was being force-fed. And done what?

‘I would like him to have his scrawny arse striped, Mistress.’ One of the female voices.

‘Slave M, you surprise me not one jot, you are predictable little bitch, aren’t you?’

Slave M? As in short for Emma, or an initial? Madelaine, Maria, sexy names. Margaret? Mildred? Ha, maybe not so sexy…..SHIT! What the..?

My arse explodes with pain. Sharp, stinging pain.

‘One’

i’m so busy fantasising about a female slave in the room with me and what her name is and forgetting about her request… JEEESUS!

‘Two’

That fucking well hurts! Thank goodness i can’t speak, or i would have sworn out loud, not sure that would have been a good idea.

‘Three’

My arse doesn’t hurt now, it’s my brain that is screaming, the pain is all consuming.

‘Four’

Across the tops of my legs, this time, i think. Hard to t…

‘Five’

‘Six’

i almost pass out. i have never felt pain like it, imagine falling over with my balls attached to, whatever it is they are attached to. The straps. Ah, now i understand.

Analysing, even in such distress.

‘You are a sadistic little bitch too, slave M. Not much warming up and compassion to a fellow slave, there, was there?’ Mistress again.

‘No Mistress. But I am well aware that should I not administer the cane strokes to your liking, I will feel them myself at some stage.’

‘’You will feel them anyway, you presumptuous imp. Now get on and give it four more, I want to see finger sized welts on its hide.’

By the end of the full ten, i am bent double over the ball stock and am blubbing in my hood, working on the gag in my throat with my teeth, all thoughts of the pee on it gone. What is my backside going to look like?  Sitting down will be the least of my worries, how the hell will i explain it away?

‘Leave it to regain its composure, then unlock its pathetic testicles and then bring it to the horse, strap it down on its front and leave it there while the next debasement is decided. I shall go in the kitchen and fix myself a drink this time, hopefully of a little more mature and palatable vintage this time.’

5. Preparation

‘Mistress, may I have a word?’

‘Of course V, I assume it is your scenario you wish to discuss.’

Mistress listens seemingly absent-mindedly before speaking.

‘Very well, send in Slave M please.’

M appears in the kitchen as instructed.

‘Listen carefully, M. I want that worm in there prepared for Lady Victoria. Unfasten its arms and neck from the shackle collar, put the wrists in the cuffs on the horse legs for the moment. Put one of the ball hooks in its arse, make sure the waist strap is tight enough and padlocked closed so the ball cannot come out. The inch and a half one should fit but ideally the two inch one. Lube it well, do not break its sphincter yet.’

A pause while Mistress takes a sip of her red wine.

‘Find the big ball weight, it has shown itself to be responsive to some ball-stretching . Fasten it with the allen keys and be sure the bolts are tight as you can make them.’

Lady V leans forward to whisper in Mistress’s ear.

‘Hm, very well,’ Mistress mutters , ‘M. Make sure the weight has the eye hooks fitted to it.’

‘V, perhaps you could bring your stud in so he can help’

After he struts in the kitchen, Mistress continues, giving him a disapproving look.

‘M, make sure you lock its ankle boot straps, I notice it neglected to do that itself. Before you let it off the horse, flog its back. I want no white skin showing between the waist strap and the neck, ok?’

‘Go easy round the kidneys, but lay it on hard on the upper back and shoulders’, should it pass out, make sure it doesn’t choke. I do not want a dead worm in the house.’

‘After it is suitably coloured, take out its gag and the spreader, put a posture collar on it, keep it fairly loose so it can breathe easily.  If it speaks, throw it out of the house.’

‘Unfasten its arms from the horse, tie them into the long leather arm binder, good and tight, then free its legs and take it down into the basement. Leave its hood on for the time being.’

Glancing disparagingly at the man, Mistress continues, ‘If it struggles while you are preparing it, throw it out of the house. If it speaks, throw it out of the house, if it shows reluctance to follow…’

‘Yes, yes, I get the message,’ he replies, looking somewhat bored with proceedings.

‘Very well, smart-arse, get it done then. When it is in the basement wait for me. ‘Mistress turns away and ushers Lady V further into the kitchen.

‘V, I really don’t care if he has a cock like a horse or if he can keep it up for a week, if he speaks to me like that again he won’t have a cock anymore. Deal with him. He may well be of use later, but I will not tolerate that attitude from any lowlife male scum, understand?’

‘I shall speak with him now and deal with him later. My apologies. He will not embarrass me again.’

Just as Lady V leaves the kitchen, she turns back to her friend, ‘he has you know and he can!’ Giggling, she then leaves and disappears to supervise the preparations.

6. Exercise

It occurs to me that i am so far out of my depth here that i may drown without a trace. My mind is in a blur, i have no time reference, the skin on my back is hot and smarting, my calves are beginning to ache as i stand in these heels. How high were they?  Five inches?  Six? It is irrelevant, they are a struggle to stand in.

My shoulders are sore as they are pulled behind my back. i cannot move my arms other than to push them away from my back, but that hurts my shoulders more. It is a relief to be able to breathe through my mouth and swallow normally again but the hood is getting on my nerves as it pushes my nose flat. My neck is stiff too, cannot turn it at all or move my head up or down.

Not entirely sure where i am now, whether i am in the same room as i was, or what. i vaguely remember some steps and arms holding me steady, one set gentle, the other set not remotely gentle.

Clumping of high heels announces the arrival of someone. One or two, hard to tell, only just able to hear anything. Have they put ear plugs inside this hood, now?

i am pushed forward, a slight step up, calves scream in complaint briefly. Standing still again, i feel some fiddling going on around my body, just brief movements , a tug here, a push there. Then nothing for a moment.

i sense a vibration through my feet and then the floor moves. Shit, what’s happening. Instinctively i step forward to keep my balance. Then the hood is ripped from my head. Bliss.

But wait. i still can’t see. Have these bastards blinded me? For fuck’s sake, this was supposed to be a fantasy date with a dominatrix not a ….

It’s dark. What a dick, there are no lights on in the room. Blinded….oh, wait the floor is moving faster, i begin to walk. Ouch! What the… Too many sensations, my balls are being pulled, so are my nipples. i walk faster, again by instinct to relieve the strains, sure enough the pullings cease, but then my hands move upwards behind my back, hurting my shoulders.

After a few seconds i seem to find an equilibrium, hands stay at my back, nipples not being pulled. My balls, though, they are pulling like crazy, they must be weighted, they are slapping on my thighs and i feel the steel.

Feel the steel!  Good title for something; a book, a heavy metal album, that faggot from Judas Priest, Rob Halford was it? He would like….SHIIIT!!

The floor is moving faster still, i barely stay upright as it speeds up. i’m on a treadmill. As i stumbled i noticed a pull on the thick collar round my neck. It hurt and shocked me out of my mental rambling.

i am now at a brisk walk, trying to balance between not ripping my tits off and keeping from straining my shoulders. My balls pull tight as i fall behind the motion along with my nipples but then stop slapping on my thighs. Soon as nipples and balls go slack, the weighty thigh- slapping restarts.

And my calves. It was hard standing in these heels, but that was easy compared to walking in them at this speed. There is something metal banging on my ankle bone through the leather too. Chains? No, i would trip. Locks, yes a padlock on the strap around the top of the ankle boots, there were some locks in the box but i couldn’t decide where they were supposed to go when Shadow came knocking.

My brain tries to take stock of my body’s predicament as it seemingly scans itself. What did they used to ask for in Star Trek?  ‘Computer, conduct a level 4 diagnostic’ Something like that.

The level 4 diagnostic of my body begins to unravel its status.

Head.  Immobilised with heavy collar, appears to be attached to something high up so when balance is lost, the body is prevented from falling.

Torso. Back smarting, hot. Nipples pulling from the front. Balls? Well that’s been ascertained already.

Tight leather belt round the waist, something metal going down between my arse cheeks to…what? Not sure. ‘Unable to determine at this time,’ would be the computer’s response. Majel Barrett’s voice crystal clear in my head.

Limbs.  Arms pulled back, elbows feel like they are nearly touching (they are not even close actually)

Legs, free moving, calves stretched in those boots, very hot as they are still encased in rubber.

i am starting to sweat, i vaguely hear a beeping noise, some laughing, maybe. Then the shoes clump back from whence they had come, up some stairs maybe? i am alone. With my pain!

7. Aftermath

‘No, V, twenty minutes is plenty, it will hang itself if we leave it much longer. Get M to check it’s still upright regularly.’

Mistress finishes her wine while lounging on the chaise longue in the drawing room, her long leather skirt draped over her silk-clad legs, boots showing beneath the skirt as she crosses her legs. Starched white blouse blossoming out of the black leather bustier beneath it.

‘When the timer reaches twenty minutes the machine will slow gradually over a five minute period and then will stop altogether. It will seem like forever until it stops.’ 

‘Then if you wouldn’t mind taking him off the treadmill and have him fastened to the cross on the back wall, face out. Please do not let him see anything yet, if you require the lights please make sure his eyes are covered first.’

‘No problem, I’ll get M and my boy to sort it.’ Lady V replies and begins to rise.

‘Tori, I would prefer for you to attend to it, I do not trust your stunt cock and M is about as gentle and compassionate as a shark. It needs a little wind down time. It is my turn next and it will need its fortitude.’

Lady Victoria rises, knocks back her vodka and heads off back to the basement, followed by Mistress’s eyes.

‘I really don’t know how the hell you wear that get-up all day, V.’

‘You have your style, I have mine, dear. I would look a sight in your governess gear and the hair would be way too severe for me.’ Lady Victoria flicks back her long blonde locks and laughs.

‘Yes, and my fat ass wouldn’t fit in those pants and boots, is that what you mean?’ Mistress giggles.  A moment of mutual teasing that neither would tolerate from anyone else on the planet.

‘Let me know when it’s ready, please, darling.’

8. Disrespect.

Finally the treadmill cuts its speed, i guess there would have been a warning beep but i wouldn’t have heard it what with the blood pounding in my ears. 

Haven’t felt like this since i used to punish myself on the rowing machine for half an hour at insane speed, drawing aghast looks from others in the gym as i near rolled off the thing at the end in a heap.

Why won’t it fucking stop. My calves are screaming, my nipples feel like they have been ripped off, my balls might be down by my knees by now, so much of me aches i can barely recognise the individual sources. Don’t think I’ll ever set foot on one of these things again. Not of my own free will anyway.

It stops.  Abruptly. My arms nearly pull out of their sockets and i fall forward as i momentarily continue walking. i half strangle myself again as i just about manage to regain my footing, and finally am stationary, sweating like a rapist.

Just about manage to make out a voice issuing instructions then something is pulled over my head and a light flickers on, though I can still see nothing.

‘Amazing, really, two dog leads and some string can cause all that suffering. Fancy some of that, my sweet?’ Lady V asks her boy.

‘He made a big deal out of a little walk, if you ask me, fucking wimp. Hope I don’t get like that when I’m his age.’

‘You might not get to his age if you don’t watch your language and your attitude. Speak to Mistress again like you did upstairs and they’ll find you bobbing about in a black bag in the Thames. That’s the only warning you’re going to get. You may think you have an elevated status because of your… ‘attribute’.. but trust me,  a 9 inch cock on a corpse impresses no-one.’

‘Now get him off there, get that binder off and get him strapped to that cross behind you, face him into the room, keep the bag over his head and leave him be for a little while.  The ball weights can come off but the butt plug stays where it is, so don’t be thinking you can fuck him on the sly when no-one’s looking.’

‘Slave M, watch this one doesn’t step out of line. I need a cigarette. I shall be back momentarily.’

Lady V, turns and heads back towards the stairs, her leather covered backside wiggling sexily as she walks.

‘Good job she’s such a hot fuck, or I’d be outta here. Bossy cunt.’

‘You are pushing it, fella, if she heard you talking about her like that you would be grateful to be in a bag in the river.’ Slave M turns in disgust and begins to prepare the cross.

9. Vulnerable

I heard nothing of this exchange, too busy trying to regain my breath and composure. Ha, think composure may take a while longer.

Pretty soon i am leaning slightly backwards on wooden beams of some kind, ankles fastened apart, arms above my head, spread-eagled. It is pure relief having my arms apart rather than squeezed tight behind my back, my shoulders are killing me though.

i relax, slump down in the bonds to take the weight off my calves and feet. That’s better, my balls are free if a little sore, all in all not too bad.

‘M, look at this.’ V’s toy boy says quietly in his slight American drawl,  nudging Mistress’s slave forward by her bare arm.

‘What is it, is he okay?’ she enquires.

‘I think the fucker’s asleep, look he’s slumped down and I’m sure I can hear him snoring. His head can’t go nowhere in that collar so it’s hard to tell.’

‘Leave him then, Mistress wants him to rest apparently.

‘Fuck that, anybody would think it’s a goddamn summer camp.

My balls explode in agony and i erupt into wakefulness. Tears gush into my eyes and I slam my head back into the wooden frame and shriek.

‘That’ll fucking teach him, the wimp, who the hell falls asleep in a dungeon.’ Toy Boy’s male voice penetrates the pain.

‘For God’s sake, man, there’s no need to kick him in the bollocks, Mistress said….

‘Oh fuck her orders, he’s not hers he’s just a dumb jock who showed up for the thrill.’

‘What on earth is going on down here?’ It is Lady V. ‘You were told to let him rest, now leave him alone, come upstairs and behave, do you hear me.’

’ Toy Boy mutters under his breath, ‘Yeah, I guess so. He won’t be sleeping for a while now though, not with his nuts in his throat.’ Not remotely loud enough for Lady V to hear though.

10. Deception

i have no way of knowing whether i am alone or being silently watched, either way i dare not fall asleep again. My balls feel like they have been kicked by a mule, my back aches as a result and suddenly my ‘comfortable’ position is anything but. The blood has drained from my arms and my shoulders ache again, but from a different perspective.

Eventually i hear a soft rustle and am conscious of breathing and movement. The bag over my head is wrapped with a cord round the posture collar and therefore while not tight round the neck it stops most of the light entering and certainly makes it impossible to see. It is fairly heavy too and no light gets through the fabric, perhaps it’s leather too.

Wait. What’s that? Instinctively i pull back from whatever is touching my cock, is that a good feeling or what? i can’t tell at first, so accustomed to being in pain, something pleasurable is almost the same sensation.

No, i think it’s nice, warm, tender, delicate…delightful. My cock begins to throb and fill out. It’s a mouth. Someone is sucking me, well licking me at least.

‘Do not speak, but nod if you can taste its cum. It has been dribbling, I see. Tut, tut, proper little slut’.

Mistress’s voice.

‘Good, continue. Get it hard but do NOT let it cum, do you understand, Boy?’

Oh Jesus, she is good, wait….boy?  Oh Christ am I getting my cock licked by a bloke? I can’t be, I am not a queer, what is she doing to me, ….

‘Imagine it is your own cock and do what you would like done to you.’

‘Mistress, his wiener ain’t big enough to do what I like done to me.’ The male voice, from down below, plenty loud enough to hear.

‘Just get on with it and cease bragging, please.’

i can’t enjoy this, i hate blowjobs, well not really hate them, but never seen what all the fuss was about, maybe the  blowers weren’t that great. This is good though, shit it’s a fucking guy, for God’s sake, I can’t enjoy it, it’s just, well, wrong.

The wee fella doesn’t think it is wrong though and for whatever reason is pretty soon as hard as a rock and almost ready to burst. The brain in my real head is horrified. My mouth betrays me though as I moan in ecstasy. Shit he is so good at this

Mistress whispers quietly to Lady V. ‘Right, my dear, remember how we discussed it, let him see what he needs to see.’

In the midst of my fast approaching orgasm my head is forcibly shoved down against the collar and the bag is pulled away from my face. A subtle light pervades the gap and i see a bronzed, sculpted back, muscled buttocks tucked beneath and a head bobbing up and down on my cock. A bald head! Then the head lifts and a second later a mouth meets my lips, the tongue pushing insistently into my mouth. i taste me, i guess, salty, sticky. i just glimpse a second figure kneeling close by, long hair across her face.

No sooner has it intruded but the tongue is withdrawn and the bag is closed about my collar and the feint light is gone. The sensation at my cock resumes, my cock head now being taken deeper into that warm mouth. i am going to cum, any second…

‘Pull her away Boy, quickly, she will make him cum, quick’ the other dominant female, Lady V, was it, is insistent.

‘Slave M, you almost went too far and spoilt it all’ Mistress is not cross, but sounds to have laughter in her voice.

It was a girl! A shaven-headed girl, thank God for that, I’m not queer then….

‘Now, V! Do it!’

In a fraction of a second my swollen cock head is pulled straight down, i barely feel a small scratch in my pee hole and then i hear a loud bang.

What was?….. oh FUUUUCK!!

i could not help but cry out as a sharp pain shoots through my cock end and i scream in shock. What the hell have they done to me.

I hear laughter, three female voices in near hysterical laughter.

‘Oh Mistress, that was too good, I nearly wet myself. I just wish we could have seen his face but then we would have spoiled the surprise.’

‘I told you it would be fun, V, pain and pleasure, interspersed with some psychological mucking about , it will have no idea what has happened to it.’

‘Fucking hell, you two, you just nailed his cock to a lump of wood and you think that’s amusing? I kicked the wimp in the nuts I know, but this is crazy.’

‘Lady V, if you do not keep your pet dog under control a nailed cock will be the least of his worries.’

‘Mistress, I am sorry. Really, he has much training to complete yet and is a little raw and …’

‘Enough. Another word from his lips and I shall call my man to have him removed. Permanently! Understood?’

‘Of course. Do you hear, bitch?’ Lady V grabs her stud’s long blond hair and spits out the word into his face with venom.

‘Yes, madam,’ a slight irreverent tone still pervading the voice, ‘I understand.

11. Realisation?

Did i just understand that correctly?  My cock head has a nail through it?

They are fucking with my head, there is no way anyone would put a nail in someones’ privates. It was a bald girl sucking my cock next to a bloke pretending to be a girl.

Deception.  The old magician’s trick, distract the mind, fool it into thinking one thing until it believes it is true, then the real truth is no longer credible.

They will have scratched it with something, I don’t know, what the hell they’ve done but no way have they done that. It actually doesn’t really hurt now, just a brief sharp pain and then nothing. They ‘ll have banged something  at the same time to make me think they’ve really done it.

Bullshit! I’ve sussed them, very amusing. Pretty good actually, very convincing with the argument and everything. Phew.  Quite exciting really.

‘Bastards’

Did I say that out loud?

12. Really?

‘Did it just speak?’

‘I thought he said ‘Bastards’

‘It better not have, or maybe we will nail its cock to the cross, eh worm?’ Mistress’s hot breath is perceptible through the bag even, very close, very, fucking scary.

‘I am sorry Mistress’

‘It spoke again!’ Incredulity in the voice this time.

‘What were your instructions worm?  Say nothing. Do you believe it is all over now? The climax of the evening?’

‘It was a great ending but that does not mean you can behave as if it’s all finished. Time’s up, thanks Mistress, I’ll be off now. The three hundred quid’s in the envelope.’

‘Oh I think not.’

‘I am getting to enjoy your company too much to let you go just yet, worm.’

‘V?’

‘Yes, dear’

‘A word please and you two slave bitches, leave us now.’

Toy Boy and slave M disappear up the stairs, M’s total nakedness contrasting sharply with Boy’s very vanilla jeans and T-shirt.

‘V, be so kind as to pull the nail out of its dick and replace it with the BCR I gave you earlier, There’s a dear.’

With that Mistress turned sharply and followed the slaves up the stairs to the main house.

‘Not a bad evening so far, even if I do say so myself. Wicked, I am!’

13. Movement

Once more i am upstairs in the original room, thick carpet at my knees. i am still in the pink stockings and boots, but my ankles are attached to each other with a piece of heavy chain, no more than a foot in length, i would guess. 

My head is on the carpet, the bag was replaced with some sort of partly rigid half hood so that my eyes are completely covered but my nose and cheeks and mouth are uncovered. i imagine i look a little like Batman. Except for the muscles and the fact that i am trussed up like a Christmas Turkey.

My wrists have heavy manacles on them, similar to those on my ankles but as they are tight on my wrists and not  over the top of the leather boots they are tending to chafe somewhat. They are also fastened together, no slack to speak of and are in turn fastened to the ankle chain, again without any slack.

The result is that i have my arse stuck up in the air, my left cheek and shoulder are squashed into the carpet. It could be termed a stress position and it is doing its job just fine.

Something heavy is fastened round my cock and balls, i can feel it resting on my forearm, metallic i think, pulling on my sack and on my cock head.

My arse cheeks are smarting as at least two of the occupants of the room have been taking turns to thrash it, first with what felt like a wooden bat or a hair brush or something and then with a leather strap. Warm up, they said. Never dreamed of needing to warm up for a thrashing, wonder if my old headmaster used to do that before he went to work with his slipper. Never had the pleasure, fortunately, too much of a goody-two-shoes at school.

After the warm up, i got a cropping (knew by the sound of the clapper) then something similar to my initial beating (cane?) and then ten cuts with something i heard  Lady V call a ‘single tail’. No idea what that was only that it made the rest of the implements seem like a warm-up themselves.

It was not just the pain on my now, no doubt, massacred butt cheeks but the wrap round of the whip into my thighs and belly. They still hurt now, some time afterwards, though how long ago i do not know.

My mouth is filled with a large ball, fastened round the back of my head and over the crown, a strap running up either side of my nose over the semi-solid mask.

i am also convinced there is something in my backside. A metal rod or something is lodged in my cheeks and goes up to the waist where it appears to be fastened to a leather waist belt. I only know this because when i tense my belly against the strap, the ‘rod’ moves.  But it must be anchored down below and i have a horrible feeling it is in my guts. What with all the other stuff going on i have not  really recognised the sensation. Well one wouldn’t, would one, not being in the habit of stuffing things in my backside.

I had a friend who was a nurse and he told me a guy came into casualty with a light bulb up his arse once. The doctor on duty was discussing how to extract it without breaking it, desperately trying to keep a straight face by all accounts. What if that’s what in me?

‘Ok, worm, up you get, lounging time over,’ Mistress is back.‘Time for you to do some work. Prepare it for service, slave M.’

Hands are free from my ankles and i try to rise to all fours. Bloody hell i am stiff, my neck is cricked and my back is creaking, knees making weird noises, arse burning……

‘Oof.’ i exclaim out loud as a naked foot kicks me in the belly.

‘Come on, we haven’t got all day Tinkerbell’ 

The voice light and girlie, not very old, must be slave M. Baldy. Sexy. Great little coc…

‘Uugh,’ Another kick, this time harder and with a laced boot leaving it’s imprint in my stomach.

‘Get up on all fours and assume the position,’ someone says, no idea who.

‘Better. Now M, give it enough slack on the wrists to put them over its head but keep them fastened together. The ankles are fine. Remove the gag, chain the back of the mask to the waist strap and put the nose hooks up and over the mask as-well, make sure its slut mouth is wide open.

It is all done very efficiently and i am trussed up with my head dragged back at an uncomfortable angle, i’ll need a week in physio after this.

‘Now, you have a piggy looking nose, worm, so why not do a lap of the room making the appropriate noises for a pig.’

‘MOVE IT!’ Another kick, smack in my arse crack this time.

‘Enjoy your freedom of movement, piggy, while you still can.’

14. Nourishment

Three times round the room, now, knees about to give in, just noticed the head of my cock hurts. More than it did, what’s going on there?

So confused, still don’t really know if they pierced it, nailed it or what, just know it hurts.

Metal contraption is banging on my thighs now, it must be pretty big. Could feel it if i wasn’t parading round like a farmyard animal.

‘Piggy, come drink.’ Lady V.

Lead to somewhere in the room, head pushed down into a bowl, cough and splutter as my nose goes in the water, it stinks. Shake my head. It’s pushed under the water until i struggle and force my head upwards against the hand on my neck. Coughing and retching.

‘Drink, piggy or drown, I care not either way,’ Mistress.

‘Goddamn it, drink.’  The male voice.  His hand it is on my neck, insistent.

Drink as best as I can, sucking and slurping. It’s not fresh water for sure but it is water.

Lead off again, hand at my neck, thrust down somewhere warm.

‘’Now worship Your Mistress.’

My head is held tight by two hands, different ones, not as strong. Still pretty forceful though. The nose clips are pulled out, relief, but my head is still pulled back with the bonds.

‘Get to it, no teeth!’ Lady V again.

Inhale. Smells good, fragrant, almost pleasant. Stick my tongue forward in my mouth to taste and realise what it is.

‘Come on, surely you’ll be grateful for a little pussy-worship after your ordeals.’

Can’t tell which of them it is, is it Lady V, she spoke last, don’t really care, this IS pleasant, more like what i expected of the evening.

Work my tricks, have been told I’m good at this, see what works, no, feel what works. Use my tongue, lips, nose…no teeth though. Getting wet and the fragrance changes, still pleasant, make her cum, get in her good books, ease the pain.

‘Mmmm, finally I think we have found a use for him, Mistress.’

It IS Lady V then.

Continue working, nose and mouth drenched in her essence. Then she goes quiet, still, tense.

And cums with the force of an earthquake.

‘Oh…fuuuuck……..’

‘Lady V, your upper class upbringing has been forgotten. Language my dear.’ Mistress laughs.

‘Oh, my God, he is coming home with me…wow. My stud has his attributes but he is an amateur at cunni compared to this one’

‘Really, dear, I think not.’

A muttered male voice behind me says something in disgust but I can’t make it out.

‘How can he be a faggot when he can work a lady like that? Remember, Boy, you are on a yellow card so shut it.’ Lady V admonishes him firmly.

Mistress speaks. ‘Well, worm, you appear to have done well. I am not averse to recognising excellence so you shall be rewarded accordingly.’

‘Take the hook out of his arse and release his neck at the same time, slave M. Make sure if there is any mess you have something to clean it with. Maybe use this mouthy specimen here’s tongue.’

Mistress turns and looks at Lady V’s Toy Boy  but he is less than amused and about to speak when Mistress holds up her hand to command silence.

‘You colonials always did struggle with British humour. Get some tissues, slave M and dispose of them afterwards.’

A pause. Very quiet. Then the buckle of the belt around my waist is released and my neck flops forward as the tension is removed. Bliss. 24 carat bliss.

Then a tugging at my hole, whatever is in there is coming out, well it’s actually not as it feels like it’s the size of a cricket ball.

‘Push or relax, it is better out than in, isn’t it?’ Was that M, her voice from (my) behind.? Ha, laugh in the face of adversity, as usual.

Actually no, it was not that unpleasant while I was clenching my buttocks sucking Lady V off. Feel a small warm hand on my buttocks and then it tenses and whatever is in my backside is ripped unceremoniously out of it.

Someone screams.

It’s me.

‘I did warn you.’ Slave M covers the offending object in a handful of tissues and wipes my butt. When was the last time anyone wiped my arse?

‘Not too bad, Mistress, he must have not eaten for a while.’

‘It was ordered to fast for at least twelve hours before our meeting. It has followed orders quite well in fact. Maybe it could be a keeper.’

15. Discovery

‘So, slave M, how would you like some of that treatment?’ Mistress asks.

‘What a ball that size in my butt hole?’

‘No, you stupid girl, this worm bringing you off as it did for dear Lady Victoria.’

‘Of course Mistress, but…’

‘Then get yourself on the settle and spread your legs, while Lady V recovers her composure and her pants.’

Mistress, sniffs and looks to her somewhat dishevelled friend. ‘You were always a lot faster getting your pants down than up dear.’

i am moved along a couple of feet. Am I against a sofa, or something? It’s leather whatever it is, quite cold, but soft, supple, old probably.

i home in on the intended target, hand s initially on the floor. i risk a crafty feel of the whatever it is on my cock and balls. It’s some sort of metal cage, solid, vaguely penis-shaped, with what feels like a bolt through the end , running parallel to my torso. A thick ring is wrapped round my still saggy ball sack and appears to hold it in place.

‘So, worm, you explore your genitals without permission?’

i snatch my hand away. ‘No, Mistress.’ i forget and speak.

‘You speak and lie. You are just like all males,’ she turns to Toy Boy, ‘deceitful and self-absorbed’

‘Your cock is imprisoned in a custom-made chastity device, made of fine stainless steel. It is fastened round your balls and if you would have had the time you would have found there is no hinge or discernible opening as it cleverly is incorporated into the whole design.’

‘The maker of this device is a genius in restrictive appliance designs, but I presume, he will never get the credit he so deserves. Not while he only works for me at any rate. Which he will only ever do as I have the only means to unlock one of his devices wrapped around his own balls and cock.’

‘Wickedness personified, even if I do say so myself.’

‘The bolt, you may or may not have felt, passes through the BCR in your cock. It effectively prevents any possibility of escape from the device as it keeps the glans at the very end of the tube.’

Mistress pauses for a sip of a drink, I think. I haven’t heard her speak more than a few syllables prior to this. She sounds refined, confident, home counties accent, very, very sexy.

‘Moreover, the length of the tube means that while your cock is partly or fully tumescent you will be quite comfortable as the glans will be at the end of the tube. Should you fail to remain excited, however, and your cock shrink back to its pathetic flaccid state, the flesh will pull against the BCR and, well, hurt like hell, I shouldn’t wonder. Particularly in a fresh piercing. ‘

‘So that was why the gauge of the ring had to be so big and a normal needle was out of the question? Asks Lady V from just beside me, seemingly pulling herself together finally.

‘Hit the nail on the end, dear. Do pardon the pun.’

Mistress continues as i blanche beneath the mask.

‘Obviously healing and hygiene will initially require removal regularly but eventually it will remain in place, how do you Yanks say it?’ She turns to Toy Boy again, ‘24/7.’

‘You may note the irony in that most MCD’s reward the flaccid and punish the erect. I hold no regard for such ideas and wish my slaves to be permanently turned on by thinking of me at all times, this being rewarded by, at least relative comfort in the trouser filling department. Or in actual fact that, the tube filling department.’

‘It is not removeable, it is not locked by a conventional lock that would use a key that could be copied. It is not remotely discrete. It is meant to remind you, forgive me, 24/7, that you are my property.’

One word springs to mind. I do not utter it.

16. Cleaning

‘Enough, Lady V, slave M is about to be pleasured but there must always be a counter-point, restrain her, please.

In no time slave M finds her wrists fastened to her slave collar and worse, her legs fastened to the collar too.

‘Worm, get your hands in front of you, you may touch her, but be mindful of your position’

‘Good, now get to it, worm. She may be a slave, but she is my slave and, as such, ranks above you so ensure she is treated accordingly.’

Hesitate a moment. Am i hearing correctly? i can touch. Ouch. Too long a hesitation, smack on the back of the head.

Hands up her stomach, she is taut, a stomach like that does not come from diet alone, she is fit. Her legs are almost straight, despite being fastened to her neck.

Explore her tits, almost non-existent, but huge nipples and studs piercing them. Thick studs. Really thick studs, they are hollow, like metal grommets. Jesus.

Hands fastened together so can only explore one thing at a time but must get to her pussy or take another crack on the head.

‘No hands down there, worm, mouth only, teeth are allowed.’

Take the hint. Begin exploring her pussy. Phwoar, it’s a bit ripe. Involuntary reaction, my head comes back off it.

‘No worm, she is not clean, that is your job, she is not permitted to touch herself normally so hygiene can be an issue. Deal with it. Then make her cum.’

Bloody hell. No choice though. In i go. Recon mission begins.

Actually not too bad, tongue takes point, woooa. Piercings. Loads of them. She’s like an iron-mongery store down here. Lines of rings down each side, at least half a dozen. Per side! Tongue wriggles around, she moans. Turning her on without even trying.

The rings are not that large in diameter but very thick. Outer lips. No wait. Wriggle, wriggle, tasting better now, she is lubing up. Inners too, they are fastened together! The rings go right through the two. Blimey. What’s that all about.

Keep away from her clit for the moment. Mindful that this is not just an exploration for my benefit.

Find her pee-hole. Will she like it there? Acrid taste for a moment, recently used. Have i tasted that already i wonder? Little reaction. Hmm. Ok. Move on. Inside of the lips (inners I guess), around the rings. They are not ball closed but flush. She moves her hips a little.

Up the inside, pause, rather wet now, quick flick of the tongue upwards into the crevice. No reaction. Another attempt, slower this time. Something smooth, hard. Now what.

‘You are wasting your time there, worm, She has a small appliance fitted round her nub, part of her own chastity arrangements.’ Mistress’s voice close to my ear. ‘Do not forget to clean her all over.’

Not neglectful of that taboo area normally but …. Ow, a line of pain across my backside. Message received. Her buttocks are up-tipped due to her legs being behind her head so no access issues. Quick lick. Oh, man, it tastes like almonds, but just for a moment, Bury my nose in her puss, rather not get the whiff of a strangers …

‘Clean her up properly, worm, she will not get the opportunity again for a while.’

Bite the bullet. Get on with it, she likes it. i hate it. i do what i am told, it beggars belief what i do, cannot form the thoughts into words. It’s hideous.

‘Enough, back to the front. See if you can turn her on without playing with her favourite part’

i try all the tricks i know, but she is nowhere close to orgasm, wet and wriggling, but that’s all. Obviously her clit is off the menu so it was always going to be difficult.

‘So, it appears you have failed to turn on my little whore, worm. Not so cocky now, eh?’

‘Nevertheless, you will continue, there will be some added incentive until you complete the task. You will not find it a particularly pleasant incentive.’

17. Incentive

‘As you have failed miserably and appear not to have used those hands for anything other than feeling yourself, you shall forfeit their use.’

Now what. i am brought up to a kneeling position, wrists freed. Momentarily. They are quickly re-secured in some sort of frame barely more than shoulder width apart along with my head, which is now held back again, though not too restrictively. The whole thing is remarkably solid.

‘Ingenious little contraption, V, has it a name?’

‘No, it’s just a little something one of my subbies with a bent for wood made for me. Alas his other bent was that he was bent. Little bugger ran off with a master friend from Denmark.’ Lady V looks to the ceiling, seemingly aghast.

‘Rather remiss of you to let him run anywhere, dear, let alone away to Denmark.’

‘Oh he’s not in Denmark, he’s in a cage somewhere in Ealing. I was invited to take my retribution by his new master when he found out the circumstances but decided to just request some living conditions as payment. Hence the cage.  And a tattoo describing his sexual orientation. On his neck. The master seems to quite like its explicitness.’

‘Hell hath no fury and all that. He was good with his hands though. Yes, laugh away, I meant he could make virtually anything out of wood. Stools, chairs, beds, whatever. I had an idea for a line of bondage furniture that could convert back to vanilla use.’  Lady Victoria ponders a moment.

‘No matter. He is now forbidden from wood and spends his life encased in steel. Last time I saw him was at a party. He was chained to a urinal with a tube from it buried in his throat. I felt so sorry for him.’

‘It is just a small stock, specifically for pussy worship. Allows the lady to be comfortable on a regular chair or sofa while the slave does the business.  Ideal for long, boring winter nights.  There is a beam somewhere that slots into the front  frame and extends back to the ankles for extra security.’

‘Can’t be too careful now, losing one slave is a mistake, losing a second would be downright careless.’

Sure enough i feel my ankles fastened apart and i am going nowhere, my own body weight now making the stock completely solid. My head is bent down slightly and…

‘Get on with it, worm, I shall give you a few free moments to start her up before the incentive begins.’

Immediately M’s now less pungent parts are in my face and i fight my way through the metal puzzle with my tongue and begin again.

Lick, suck, probe, swirl, lap. Alphabets. Chinese characters, change the timing, try hard and forceful, soft and slow. Only wetness and an odd moan and wriggle to show for my efforts. If i could get to her clit i would have her but the metal nub prevents that. It seems to be held in place by a piercing, maybe if i..

‘Very well, here’s the incentive’ Mistress’s voice is almost like a military rallying call.

Jesus fucking Christ…. she’s split my fucking arse open……

‘Yes, scream like the bitch you soon will be. MAKE HER CUM!’ Mistress shouts in my ear. I feel her silk-covered breasts on my back.

‘I shall continue to fuck your seemingly virgin hole until she comes. Be grateful, the sight of her Mistress reaming you will exacerbate her excitement.’

Mistress laughs sadistically, almost theatrically and then proceeds to pound my back side with what feels like a telegraph pole.

Pain. Like i have never experienced, she’s split me open, for sure. Something wet running down my legs, slopping noises, try not to think about it and get on with my task. She was right, the little slut’s pussy is wetter still and she is writhing around and moaning.

The pole comes out of my arse, is smacked down on my buttocks. It feels like a forearm it is so warm and heavy. Then back in. OOOOF. Slower this time, but deeper. She’s going to come out of my throat in a minute.

Concentrate. OOOF, another deep thrust, feel her soft gloved hands on my hips.

‘Yeehaa. Ride him, cowboy!’ Toy Boy’s immature, stereotypical exclamation is almost lost as my head pounds, but my tongue gets to work again.

She pulls out again and pushes insistently back in. Instinctively i grab the steel nubbin with my teeth and pull. M’s buttocks tense up and she shrieks. Shit, sorry.

‘Oh yes, yes.’

Sleepless in Seattle all over again, for real though. A slow removal, then the pole is rammed back in. i pull the nubbin again, teeth now lodged behind the impeding item and straining against its anchor.

‘Yes, yes, oh fuck, YES.’

She is cumming, suddenly it dawns on me. She gets off on the pain. Of course. i tug again. Same reaction, cock goes back out of my arse and on my back again. It’s Huge.

In again, less resistance, this time, i must be burst open. My teeth come off the metal cover and i reflexively bite her lips.

My face is drenched in liquid, shooting at my nose and mouth with some force and she screams and bucks and rocks around like a dervish.

Has she pissed on me at the final moment? What?

The arse pounding stops immediately and the huge dildo is slapped down on my buttocks and back.

‘Well done, worm. It took you a little while, but you figured it out in the end. My little slave M is a true pain slut. She gets off on pain. Many months of indoctrination and conditioning have paid off beautifully.’

‘You have completed your task, with a little help from my cock.’

I hear shuffling and the pussy is removed from my dripping face.

‘It was a bonus when we found out she squirted too. Magnificent talent to have in certain circumstances. Like this one.’

‘Now, off with the mask and you may see the implement that brought about your epiphany.’

Light. Very bright at first but actually not, the room is dimly lit at best. My eyes have been covered for hours. i see nothing more than the floor and a pink dong hanging from between a pair of stocking-clad thighs. Bright pink, almost fluorescent. But not very big. A good few inches long but really not that wide at all. What? Wait, the forearm sized thing is still on my back.

‘Ha, Worm, did you really think I could have impaled you with that thing for your first time. Stupid boy. This little pinkie was all it needed. With a little splatter of lube down the legs every now and then for effect.’

‘The mind is the greatest sexual organ we have and it must be used properly.’

‘Now clean this up before it dries and I have to scrub it.’

18. Enough

‘I think that may be enough for the evening. You are welcome to stay and take advantage of the facilities, should you wish.  I certainly think you should pay some attention to your chattel, it needs work on obedience.’

Mistress reclines on a comfortable chair in the kitchen cradling a pot of tea, her slave at her feet, collar chained to the same chair, squatting on a small mat to insulate her from the floor tiles.

Lady Victoria, meanwhile, is leaning on a work top, smoking a cigarette in a long black holder. Her boy is sitting on a nearby stool.

‘For one thing, there is no way he should be seated while you are standing. You are sending all the wrong messages, my dear. I suppose you have let him fuck you too?’ Mistress looks away as if the prospect fills her with disgust.

‘That is his purpose, he is not really my slave, he is my stud. When I want a fuck, he has to be ready, willing and able. I have my usual slaves for the other duties, he is my rent-a-cock.’  Lady Victoria taps him on the head in a somewhat patronising manner.

‘Except I don’t rent him, he does it for free,’ she chuckles, ‘don’t you pretty one?’

He shakes his shoulder length blonde locks in a subtly impatient way, straightens up, looks at his watch and speaks for the first time since his warning.

‘There is no such thing as a free ride. Any chance we can saddle up for home? It’s getting late and I am a horny son-of –a-bitch.’

With a slightly harder then necessary flick with the back of her hand, Lady Victoria admonishes him.

‘Now my love, do not be disrespectful, Mistress does not approve. There will be time for all that later. Now run along and get our gear together, there’s a good boy.’

He rises, somewhat reluctantly, from the stool and sidles off of the kitchen and down the hallway.

He passes the half open door to the room they vacated earlier and can’t resist looking in. There strapped firmly to the horse is Mistress’s plaything covered in a light throw.

I hear footsteps in the hall, seem to be able to hear better now, mask gone just a cloth of some kind laid over me. They just threw it on my back like i was a bird cage or something. My face feels sticky and disgusting, my backside is plugged and it feels like the hook thing is fastened to the strap about my waist again. Arms stretched down the legs of the ‘trestle’, feet fastened too.

‘Please’

Did i speak?

‘Hey dude, you awake then?’

Obviously i did.

‘i need the bathroom. Could you ask if i could be released?’

‘Man, I ain’t askin’ for shit. These bitches have it in for me as it is,’ he replies in a low voice. ‘You could just holler, that would sure bring them back. Not sure they’d be too impressed though.’

The cloth is lifted and i feel fingers in my hair raising my head. i see his face close to mine, the first face i have seen all evening.

‘You are one sorry sight. You get off on this shit, or what? I mean, a little slapping about and such can be ok, I guess, but you are a mess, man. Actually I ain’t too sure if you’re actually a man at all.’ He sneers and curls his nose. ‘You fuckin’ stink too’

‘Look, I don’t know who you are or what you are to them but I need a piss and to clean up and then get home. What I don’t need is you moralising about what I am or what I do or do not enjoy. Okay.’

Suddenly I think I have had enough. This has all spiralled out of control and what’s more I never intended to have to justify myself to some pretty-boy Yank twenty years my junior. No doubt at some time in the future I will look back at this ‘adventure’ with a smile and maybe even an erection but right now...

‘I want out. Okay!’

‘Ooh. Look who found his voice. Maybe I should just go and tell the bitches that you’ve turned into a disrespectful faggot and see how they feel about that, huh?’

‘Look, I am not gay, I have done nothing homosexual nor have any intention of doing so and the more you call me a ‘faggot’, the more it strikes me that it is you that has sexuality issues’

‘I have had enough.’ I look him straight in the eyes as I say it.

‘Fuck you.’

A wet dribble appears on my cheek. The bastard’s just spat on me.

‘You probably would like to, you slime ball.’ I should not be provoking him but I’ve had enough of this bollocks. Too late now.

‘Oh yeah, You’ve had enough when I fuckin’ say so.’

He turns and drops the cloth back on my head, walks the few paces to the door and closes it carefully. It shuts with a definite clunk, despite his care. Solid door.

Click.

What was that?  Shit he’s locked the bloody door!

19. Worse to come

I hear him moving about behind me, sounds like he’s looking for something, hear him rooting about. Picking things up and then dropping them again.

He’s back. Cover off. Right off.

‘Open your mouth.’ He has a metal thing in his hand, looks like a shiny animal trap. He flicks it and I see it open and close. It’s the thing that was in my mouth originally, the spreader. It’s similar to something we used to use to keep the horses mouths open when they needed their teeth rasped.

In his dreams.

I say nothing but just clamp my mouth shut.

‘Oh now he gets all manly. Open your fuckin’ mouth!’He snarls and grips my nose tight between his fingers.

Can’t breathe. In certain circumstances being deprived of breath can be quite exciting. This is not one of those circumstances. No point fighting the inevitable. Open my mouth and in goes the spreader. He opens it against the ratchet, wide. Really wide.

‘That’ll shut you up for starters. Then it’s time for some fun. I’ve had about enough too. Enough of sitting here watchin’ everybody gettin’ off but me.’

He drops my head. Walks behind me again and I hear a slap as his belt is pulled loose from his jeans.

Crack.

He brings the thick belt down across my buttocks. Yeow, that bloody hurt. Will not give the bastard the satisfaction of a reaction, even with my arse as sore as it is.

Crack again and again and again. Getting harder not to make a sound now.

Crack. CRACK!

I grunt aloud involuntarily.

‘UCK U!!’  All I can manage. Less coherent with mouth held open than stuffed. Saliva pouring out of me onto the carpet. Let him have his fun and I can get the hell out of here. They’ll hear him soon anyway.

Sure enough, I hear the door handle, then again, more insistently. Then a bang on the door. Followed by another, then it stops.

As does the strapping.

‘Now I think it’s time for me to get my rocks off. Open wide. Oh hell, you did already’

A moment to think, then it happens. My head is pulled back by the hair and his cock goes straight in my mouth. Christ, it’s fucking huge, can’t take... bluurgh.

I retch and puke. Well, kind of. He pulls out and a long string of slime issues out of my mouth and hangs from my chin. He stops it falling with his hand, wipes it on his cock and then smears the remainder on my face. What the..

It’s back in my mouth, plenty of space for my teeth not to get near him or I would have bitten it straight through. Both hands behind my head now, he fucks my mouth. Jesus Christ. My head goes woozy, hard to breathe with this thing in it. He pushes really hard against the back of my throat. Gag again and as I do the thing slips past and into my throat. Retch again, more slime, doesn’t stop him. No idea how long it goes on, this rape. Probably not long but feels like forever.

He withdraws, I cough and splutter. One hand now in my hair. Lifts me up, see his glans right in front of me, out of focus it’s so close.

Then he shoots his load straight in my face. Two, three, four times it spurts, a little less violently each time. But i am covered in it.

‘Now let’s argue about who is queer. Whoa, that felt good.’ His sneering voice wavers with the orgasm and the effort.

He pulls back and wipes the thing in my hair and on my face and then drops my head down again hard.

‘You said, fuck you, well there you go. Enjoy.’

In a flourish he grabs his pants and belt and then opens the door and runs out of it.

Straight into a solid right hook from ‘Shadow’.

20. Aftermath

‘How is the worm, slave?’ Mistress asks M who immediately ran in the room when the chance arose.

‘He’s a mess, Mistress but it’s only superficial, he’ll live.’

‘Good, I shall check on it in a moment. First I must attend to this...creature...here,’ looking down in abject disgust at the prostrate figure in the hallway.

‘Thank You, Curtis. A nice shot. Saved a lot of unseemliness.’

‘Kindly take him outside and lock him up in the dog kennel, until I confer with Lady Victoria over what is to be done with him..

‘I am so sorry, Mistress,’ Lady V has her head in her hands, barely able to believe what has transpired. ‘I was going to....’

‘V, I warned you to keep him under control and you did not do so,’ Mistress stops V’s explanation with a gesture of her gloved hand.

‘Despite the fact that the worm in there does not belong to me nor do I have any feelings of sorrow for its plight, it is under my ‘care’ and as such I am responsible for it. I do not expect some reject from the Beverly Hillbillies to be making use of it without my permission, understand.’

‘And as for locking me out of a room in my own house, that is why he is on the floor unconscious.’

‘Now would you kindly supervise Mr Curtis and make sure that he is dealt with appropriately and keep him out of my sight and earshot. Thank you.’

As Curtis, picks up the supine form on the floor, seemingly effortlessly, Mistress turns to M to issue more instructions.

‘Slave M, go in the bathroom, get two of the sedatives from the cabinet, dissolve them in water and administer them to the worm. When it is calm, come tell me. Got it?’

‘Of course, Mistress.’ M disappears up the stairs, still naked, rings tinkling between her legs as she moves.

Just as Lady Victoria begins to follow Curtis out of the front door, Mistress clasps her elbow with a steely grip and leans towards her friends ear.

‘Tori, i have known you since boarding school and love you to bits, but do not ever disrespect me or my guests by bringing an indisciplined slut into my house again.’ The malevolence in the voice makes Victoria shudder and a cold shock runs down her leather-clad spine.

‘Maddy, I...’

‘Hush, I have said my piece. You will stay the night and deal with that.....whatever you call it... in the most severe way and it if it survives the night, take it away with you and dispose of it. DO I make myself clear?’

‘Crystal clear, Mistress Madelaine. I shall attend to it this minute.’

‘Good, I shall finish my drink, wait for the sedative to take effect and go see what ‘a mess’ actually looks like.’

Mistress enters the room and approaches me from behind. A hand clad in a glove of the finest kid leather strokes my back and buttocks with consummate gentleness. i tingle and my back spasms with the sensation.

Remaining behind me and consequently out of sight, i feel her warm breath on my neck. i am immediately snapped back into submissiveness, her aura of power is immense, indomitable.

‘So worm, have you enjoyed your evening. Has it met with expectations? Oh dear you cannot speak, how remiss of me.’

With a swift click the ratchet on the jaw spreader is released and drops to the damp carpet.

‘You may speak, worm’

‘Mistress, i did not expect to be orally raped by some goon when i agreed to this meeting and would like to be released from this frame and taken home immediately.’

‘Please’ A pause making the polite addendum seem like an afterthought.

‘Very well, you shall indeed be released forthwith and transported back to your hotel. Mr Curtis will be just a moment, he is dealing with something just now.’

‘Thank You.’ A perfectly reasonable response, i thought.

Strong fingers clutch my hair and my head is dragged viciously upwards.

‘But listen to me, you fuck. You did not ‘agree’ to this meeting. You were summoned to it and if I choose to have you raped, you will accept it because it is my will. The reason I am livid is that Cleatus out there, decided to take matters into his own hand, or rather your mouth.’

‘Do not suppose I have one ounce of sympathy for your bruised arse or your man-muck covered face, for I do not. I only wish I had been here to see the climax to the evening’

‘If you will pardon the pun’ Mistress smiles at her inadvertent humour.

‘Now, in a moment my slave bitch will release you from this horse and will prepare you for delivery back to your hotel. I shall not be touching you any further as I have already ruined a glove by grabbing that matted mess on your head.’

‘I trust you have sufficient sense not to resist?’

‘i  do,’ i reply swiftly and sincerely.

My head is released.

‘Oh by the way,’ she takes a step back so she is behind me again.

Her booted foot slams into my bollocks with a sickening thud and i almost throw up properly this time.

‘Never dare to finish a sentence without the words Mistress or Madam again, or you will have no balls left to feel the kiss of my boot.’

With that, she pirouettes and exits the room in a blur of black leather and slams the door shut behind her.

21. Conclusion.

The ride home in the Range Rover is a blissful one, albeit that i find myself in the boot again. i must surely have fallen asleep with exhaustion or relief as it appears to take only moments.

The rear tailgate opens and ‘Shadow’ opens the cage door and ushers me out into the parking garage beneath the hotel, close to the elevator doors. i have no idea what time it is but it is mercifully devoid of other returning guests.

My wrist cuffs are chained together in front of me. The waist belt holding the ball in my arse in place does not appear to be locked, but the boot straps and wrist cuffs are secured by small, four digit, combination locks

The pink stockings are ripped in a couple of places but still cover most of my thighs and my groin is covered only by the chastity device and it most definitely is locked though by what means is not apparent. My upper body is naked as it was, but my nipple rings have been replaced by ones half as large again in diameter and apparently seamless.

Clasped fairly high up around my throat is a solid collar of a size that will require a shirt and tie to keep it hidden. From it dangles a small metal disk.

My face and hair is caked up with dried cum and god knows what else.

i stand and wait for Mr Curtis, as i now know him, to let me in the lift he has just called and take me upstairs. As the lift doors open, he ushers me inside and steps half in himself before pressing the number 4 button.

‘It was four wasn’t it?’

‘Yes. Mr Curtis. Sir.’ I add just to be sure.

‘I am not ‘Sir’ to you. ‘Sir’ is reserved for Masters. I am merely a hired hand, though with certain perks and priveleges.’

‘Now get in the lift and get upstairs and hope that the room door is still open and you do not have to call reception to let you in’

‘But Curtis, i cannot go up looking like this!’

The door begins to close and he steps out into the garage again, his suit still immaculate, his gait still silky smooth.

‘Oh, on the contrary you most certainly can. Good night and be sure to answer the phone promptly in the morning or it could get very embarrassing when the maid arrives.’

With that he leaves and my life changes fundamentally from that instant.

Fin.

This is my first attempt at an erotic BDSM story and any constructive critique of it is welcomed by e-mail at tsr781-524-112@hotmail.com.

I may well be ordered to follow the progress of these characters at a later date.

Contact with my mistress is possible at thespiderandthefly@hotmail.co.uk

Dream Date With a Domme Part Two

22.Contact

How life can change in just a few days. No, not even days. Just a few moments. The time it took to pick up a phone, make the decision to call the number, make the request and have it accepted.

A feeling of excitement not experienced since days at school, sneaking out of the house and finding the phone box at the top of the park. Close to school, filthy old thing it was, in the days when they used to hang phone books in them. They were always shredded so had to get the phone number from home first and then try and call from the box, fingers nervously clicking the change in my pocket.

Always hoping she, whoever she was, would pick up the phone and it not be the mother, or worse, the father. That constricted feeling when the voice refused to escape from the mouth without that nervousness riding on the words like a carrier wave of insecurity. The odd occasion when she would answer, there was the expectation of rejection, the pitying undercurrent as if to say, ’why on earth would I go out with you?’

But this time there was no rejection; a tone of voice that had the same effect in making me feel small, inadequate, yes, but not rejection.

I was still foolish enough to believe that i was in control. The decision was mine and i would lay down the ground rules and would operate within them.

Oh how wrong. How naive i was. How could i have been so stupid?

23. Normality

‘Hey, mate, where were you all day yesterday? Franklin was pissed off with you, sunshine.’ i stop as the guy speaks as he comes round the corner from the canteen.

Jerry’s a good guy, no axe to grind, just a decent bloke. Not really a friend but more than a colleague. We’d been out for a pint or two occasionally, but talk was always about work, or who was fit in the office. The usual banal stuff that goes on between thousands of office workers in boring jobs all over the country.

‘i figured he would be, but when stuff like that crops up, you just have to get on with it and i never thought to call him and make my excuses. Well actually i did think of it but didn’t want the argument and the justification? You know he can be such a prick sometimes.’

‘Any way, what’s with the fuckin’ tie, man? It’ll take more than that to get back into his good books.’

‘Oh I have a meeting later with clients and thought I’d better make an effort,’ i lied, unconvincingly.

Thought he would accept that better than the real reason for the tie. The fact that i have a sold stainless-steel collar round my neck from which hangs a dog-tag with the single word ‘Worm’ engraved upon it.

‘Well I hope you remembered about squash tonight. Grudge match with those tossers from accounts. We need you pal, you’re our shoe-in match win that might put us at the top of the league’

‘Well, Jerry, i’m not sure i can make it, i have....’

He was gone already, the rhetorical question hanging in the air. How do i get out of a squash match? I am the mainstay of the technical department team. Never miss a match, very rarely lose one. Moments of praise and idolatry revelled in as they never occur elsewhere.

‘Stop teasing, you’ll be there.’ Jerry shouts, already half way down the corridor, ‘and lose the noose, goose!’

24. Hotel

i had lain on the bed in the hotel room for what seemed like an age. Clad in high-heeled ankle boots, fastened round the ankles with combination padlocks, legs emerging from them sheathed in pink rubber stockings, now somewhat worse for wear, ripped in places, bubbled where they had been grabbed.

The strap around my waist was digging into my hips, as it was so tight, holding whatever it was that was implanted in my backside. Another padlock, also with a combination, fastened it shut. Not a particularly heavy one, easily cut with a pair of cutters from B&Q, but not the sort of thing one keeps in a hotel room, just in case one gets dumped back there after a date that went wrong.

My wrists were fastened together by cuffs attached by a short chain, again secured with similar locks.

i had my nipples pierced years ago. i was a little embarrassed at the time, thought it was a bit of a weird thing to do, but just had a hankering to do it, so went for it one day. Gradually stretched them to a gauge that would not look stupid. They get comments from time to time and polarise opinion somewhat, but hey? They used to have reasonably discrete studs in them but i look down now to see the thickrings they have been replaced with. Apparently seamless, no ball to close them, they are locked shut and i have no idea how they would be opened.

The collar was quite tight, solid, sitting flush to my neck when upright, but uncomfortable when laid down, particularly on one’s side. The brass tag tinkling against it.

i had been dumped there by Curtis, Mistress’s driver/chauffeur/whatever, two nights ago. Late. The room was as i had left it when he had picked me up earlier in the evening, door slightly ajar, my ‘normal’ clothes cast aside on the bed as i had donned the outrageous contents of the box that had been delivered shortly beforehand. As per instructions.

His last comment before he left had been to make sure i answered the phone when it rang or the maid might get a shock in the morning.

When the phone did eventually ring it was gone 7 am. I had slept fitfully, my mind re-enacting the evening, the bad and, if i’m honest, the not so bad, though quite who i would admit that to, i have no idea.

‘Wrists, 781.’ Click.

The sum total of the phone call. Woke me and barely got chance to say ‘hello’ let alone anything else.

Shit, the combination to the locks. Had the presence of mind to scribble the number down on the hotel pad with the cheap pen.

I fumbled with the first lock and eventually the hasp released and i breathed a sigh of relief as the chain fell away and my wrists were apart for the first time all night.

i took a quick peak at the clock and saw the time, shit, i’m late. Well who cares, i can’t go to work like this. i then had the presence of mind to put the ‘Do not Disturb’ sign on the outside door knob.

That’s the maid sorted then, thank God.

Feeling my hair with my newly-freed hands, i realised what a mess i would have looked. I need a shower, big time, i stink!

Briing, Briing.

I answer the phone again.

‘Ankles, 524’. Click.

Within seconds i had divested myself of locks, boots and stockings. My leg hair was plastered to my skin with sweat, They had been airless for almost 12 hours now.

‘Belt, 112.’ Click

Five minutes later, same voice, female, very stern.

Belt off but the metal hook leading down my arse-crack was not. If it was as big as the one that M had pulled out the night before it was going to take some removing.

The ignominy of sitting on a hotel lavatory pulling a steel ball on a hook out of one’s arse will live with me for some time. It actually came out fairly quickly, closely followed by all kinds of unmentionable noises and foulness.

Within seconds i was in the shower washing their cum out of my hair and off my face. I spent a long while in that shower, the water a little too hot for comfort. Isn’t that what they say rape victims do when they get chance, trying to wash away the guilt and the memory?

I was just trying to wash away the stench.

Now, what to do with this fucking contraption hanging between my legs.

25. Squash

i manage to get through the remainder of the day without any comments about the tie, but then i do tend to eschew too much fraternisation with the gang of workers in the office. Most of them are a generation younger than me anyway and while i try to engage in their conversations, there is only so much one can identify with. Tales of parties and clubs and hip-hop gigs leave me cold i’m afraid. They probably just think i am a boring old fart.

The first time i played squash for the department was a water-shed, when they saw that i was pretty good i was invited to the post-match social drinks. No big deal, except that where i would normally go off back to the hotel and shower, it meant i had to shower at the club. I’ve always hated communal showers, hang-ups from school days i guess, never been keen to get naked in front of a group of blokes, no matter who they were.

One of them spotted my piercings and brought it up in the bar, Some shit about ‘dark horse’ and ‘the quiet ones are always the ones to watch’. i just smiled and drank my Old Crafty Hen.

Since then there have been many showers and many drinks and a few anecdotes have been traded, just to let them know that us ‘wrinklies’ have lived and actually continue to do so.

Just before five pm, i bump into Jerry again.

‘See you at the club at six-thirty. We’re off to the Bears for a jar or two after.’ Not a question, a statement.

‘Jerry. About tonight...i really don’t think....’

‘Later, dude, we need that forehand!’ Jerry disappears into the stairwell and is gone.

Fuck. That’s the last thing i need. My mind whirrs as i try and figure out how i’m going to hide these shower curtain rings. Then it occurs to me that they are the least of my worries. The ‘contraption’ on my cock and balls and the fact that my arse and back are still welted and striped should be of more concern.

i walk back to the hotel and figure a plan out of sorts. I’ll ‘forget’ my towel and my ordinary clothes and then make the excuse that i will go back to the hotel to change and will take a shower there. That should work.

Of course when i do get back to the hotel and begin to change, i realise this is a badly flawed plan. As soon as i take off my tie there is the collar. A rounded metal band, about the thickness of a pencil, shaped to sit in the vee of the neck. It has a joint at the back, which i can barely discern as it’s pretty tight so hard to see. I’ve pulled it, tried to twist it, everything i can think of, but it will not come apart and is too big to cut off with bolt cutters. A saw would work i guess but it’s close to the skin so that would be an interesting operation to say the least.

Then there is the disk.

Also made of steel, the words ‘worm’ deeply engraved on the front side. It was only late on the previous day that i realised it had ‘Property of Mistress Madelaine’ written on the back in ornate script. Did that mean the disk? Or me?

As i strip off my shirt and pants, i see the nipple rings. They must be at least an inch across and are even slightly thicker than my own ones and they were 6mm and seemed plenty large enough. They are bloody sore too, probably due to the extra stretch.

But the main concern is hanging between my thighs. The chastity device that she spoke of as being a custom made article, with a concealed locking mechanism, hangs weightily from my balls. The head of my old man presumably still fastened to the very end of it internally. There is no way of knowing for sure as the whole thing is basically solid so the only clue is a continual sharp pull on my bell end. New piercings need cleaning and i have had this thing on for two days now.

I manage to hide the thing in a jock strap, though it’s much more uncomfortable around the scrotum that way, but i have to keep it from swinging about in my shorts.

In a moment of inspiration, i realise that a nylon underlayer will cover most of the collar and i decide i am good to go. Grabbing my racquet bag, i am just about out of the door when the phone rings.

26. Disobedience

‘Good evening, worm. How is my cock?’

Ifi’d known it was going to be her i would have ignored it.

‘You will need to remove the device tonight and clean yourself or my cock will be spoiled.’ It is the Mistress for sure.

‘Mistress, i am just...’

‘Shut up and listen,’ she interjects, voice calm and even, no hint of annoyance, just very matter of fact. Impossible to argue with.

‘You will give me your mobile phone number, after which you will be texted instructions as to how to remove the device. You will follow those instructions, clean my cock and bathe the piercing in salt water for 30 minutes, then you shall be texted instructions as to how to refit the device which you will follow to the letter.’

‘But Mis....’

‘If you interrupt me again i will have someone round to remove it for you and trust me, it will come off with the organ still inside the device...if you get my meaning. The number!’ This time the inflection in her voice was emphatic.

Having reeled off the phone number, the line goes dead.

i need to be off pretty quick if i’m going to make the match on time, but there is no text forthcoming. After perhaps twenty minutes, the phone buzzes and the text arrives.

‘Feel around the underside of the tube where it meets the ring, there are five recessed buttons. Press these in the following order from left to right as you look down at them. The ring will then detach from the tube and it will be possible to put a finger in the lower side of the tube. Therein a small raised button will release the tube from the piercing in the head of the penis. Left. Right Middle, Middle. Left middle, Right.’

Nothing else.

My heart skips as i see a release. Quickly i remove my shorts and the jock and fumble about under the tube as instructed, the whole thing is tight, my balls protruding between the thick ring and the tube, Sure enough i feel the recesses, but they are too small for my fingers. i find a pen and use it to press them in the correct order. There is a click and the tube detaches, though the ring remains around my balls as it has not opened, nor does it appear to be hinged in any way.

Only now do i notice how well crafted it is, very smooth, ovalled and at least a couple of centimetres thick. I slip my pinkie in the lower end of the tube and wince as it pulls on my bell end. There i feel the small knub and after a little fumbling find that it slides away from the end. As it does i feel my cock retract and it is loose. Quickly pulling the tube away and curling my nose slightly at the pungent aroma, i see my pierced cock head for the first time. It is a thick ring, almost as thick as those in my nipples but of a much smaller diameter, actually fairly discrete, it will fit inside my foreskin when i am flaccid. i realise that worryingly i am slightly engorged. It must have been like this most of the day then.

Surprisingly there has been little pain, only when taking a leak have i felt anything really, the pee exiting from the drain hole in the end of the tube.

i do need to clean it up though and i give the piercing a quick rinse in some warm salt water, noticing there is no visible join in this one either. How do they make these things?

It very soon  becomes apparent  that the ring around my balls is going nowhere. It is just as cunningly designed as to appear as seamless as the others but is too small to pull my testes through. I leave it in place, pull on the jock and my shorts and i’m out of the door, clutching my mobile in one hand.

Now i can play squash in a bit more comfort and see what the hell i can do with all this when i get back.

27. Instructions

‘Great match, mate.’ Jerry was always enthusiastic. ‘I really think we’d be shafted without you in the team.’ We were just on our way towards the changing room and I had to get rid of him somehow.

‘I’m sure you’d be fine. Look, Jerry, I need to dash, I have something on that I need to attend to. Ha, if only he knew what I had on; the remnants of the chastity device.

‘Catch you in the morning, yeah?’ my voice lacking conviction, i could actually use a pint right now.

‘Hey, man, you need to come to the pub, we all owe you a drink after winning the crucial rubber.’ Jerry was insistent.

‘No, really I’d love to but I have to dash, I’ll grab a shower at the hotel and we can do beer another night, ok?’

‘Ok, dude, hope you’re not going home on the bus though. You stink. See ya tomorrow, champ.’

He’s right, i am a bit less than fresh, getting too old for this squash lark, time i took up tennis. Doubles, at that.

i leave  the club and start to walk towards the bus stop and then remember my phone. ‘Fuck’

The text message light on it is insistent, pulsing its impatience.

i open the messages folder. Six messages. SIX!

i barely dare to open them, but i stop on a secluded corner under a street light, its sodium-coloured glow somewhat eerie in the developing mist.

Message one was received just after ihad left for the squash club.

‘massage the cock to semi-erectness, lube it and keep it that way until the next message.’

Message two. Sent five minutes later.

‘press the release knob inside the tube twice, this will reset it, put cock inside to the very end of the tube, then click knob again.

Message three. Two minutes afterwards. Nothing i can’t do until i get home. My head is back in submission mode again, in a fluster actually.

‘you are v quiet worm, I trust you did not trap your foreskin. Check the tube is now fastened by the PA. if not, repeat the last instructions. Txt when it is complete.’

Oh shit.

‘Txt when it is complete.’

Five words that spell a problem. Maybe she’ll believe my battery was dead or i couldn’t get a signal or something.

Message four.

‘you either have your hands full or you are ignoring me. It better not be the latter.’

Message five. Twenty minutes after number four. Still almost two hours ago.

‘you will slot the tube together with the ring, it will lock and the combination will have changed, only I know the release code sequence. Answer immediately, this operation takes seconds.  Don’t insult my intelligence with phony excuses’

i almost giggle at the pun, unintended thoughi’m sure it was. i somehow doubt she is in the mood for humour.

Message six. One minute passed between her sending five and six.

‘worm, you are in deep shit!’

28. Consequences

What to do, text now and lie or text when i get home and lie. It will take just a few minutes to get home on the bus but it could be half an hour waiting for it. i break into a run, squash or no, my legs are fuelled and i set off at a reasonable pace, mind whirring, the exercise hopefully clearing my head from its panicked state.

i take a short cut, hurdle a fence, dash across an area of waste-ground.  A brown-field development opportunity in real estate-speak. It ‘ll match my underwear, i think.

Join a path, through a small park, a few ne’er do wells hanging around watching me running. One’s on the phone, talking quickly, they all have hoodies pulled deep over their heads.

What if he’s…? No time for a paranoia attack, just keep moving. Duck down a street, slightly longer route, but will give the hoods the slip just in case.

Maybe five more minutes and the back of the hotel will be in sight. Should i go in the garage or the main entrance? Safer in the lobby i reckon but the garage is at the back and will be quicker to get into. Then straight up in the lift.  A plan is forming. If i take a photo of myself locked back up, i can forge a time-stamp on it and then make up a no signal excuse or blame it on Vodafone or something.  It will take minutes, get the device on and….

i turn the last corner at full speed, adrenaline coursing through my body, heart racing. As i look across the road to check the traffic i see a shiny black Range Rover parked fifty yards up the road.

No it can’t be, there are hundreds of black Rangies in London. i am getting paranoid, made my mind up though, definitely the lob…

‘Fucking hell!’ I scream aloud, as a huge black geezer steps out from the shadows right in my path.

‘In a hurry, worm?’

Shadow emerges from the shadows.

A huge arm and shoulder stop me in my tracks and i very nearly do shit myself this time.

‘You need to slow up, you’ll be damaging Mistress’s body?

Desperately trying to recover my composure, i step back from Curtis. He looks bigger than ever tonight, he is wearing a smart dark suit again, white shirt, dickie. Not a dinner suit, more a bouncer’s uniform.

‘You have about ten minutes to get in that hotel, make sure you have followed your instructions to the letter or I shall have to follow my instructions.’ Curtis steps forward and almost whispers the rest. ‘Your instructions would be the easier on you, I believe.’

‘Now move it!’

i’m gone. Take the garage, it’s quicker and i’m rumbled now anyway. In the lift to floor four. Huge sigh of relief as no gorilla-sized driver stops the door from closing.

Into the room, look for the tube on the bed, but it has gone. ‘Fuck.’

Bathroom, it’s in there by the wash-basin.  i scrabble for my phone but i reckon i can remember the instructions anyway. Two clicks of the knob, stick it in, then one more.

i rip my trackie-bottoms off and the shorts and Calvin’s. The thick ring is still round my, now sweaty, balls. Fumbling a little i thrust my cock into the tube, making sure the skin is pulled back from the ring, poke my finger in it and press the knob twice.  A pause, then once more. i barely feel the hidden mechanism engage but my cock head is fast alright as i feel the weight of the tube pull on the piercing.

In a second i mate the tube and the ring and feel the latch click and once more i am locked up tight.

Now for the plan, i quickly grab my phone, take a rushed picture but it is enough in focus to use and then boot up my Mac, still naked from the waist down.

A few minutes in photo-shop and i have a passable date and time stamp in orange future-font. Transfer it back to the phone and send it with a message in reply to Mistress’s message five. Replying to six would have been a huge mistake.

Hit ‘send’ and it’s done.

i wait for what seems like an age. Eventually i go in the bathroom and wash, can’t afford to be in the shower and miss another message.

After towelling myself dry i go back and sit on the bed just as the phone vibrates and plays its message alert.

‘you almost tried my patience to the limit, worm. make sure you have network coverage where you are in future. Mr Curtis will be on his way home shortly and you may go to sleep’

Thank God. She bought it. Relief drains what little energy is left in my body and i slump onto the duvet, head facing the curtains. Consequently i never see ‘Shadow’ enter through the neglectfully unlocked door. Nor do i hear his footfalls as he crosses the space to the bed.

‘Too late, sucker,’ he mutters.

i turn and attempt to get up but he has me in a head lock in seconds and slowly squeezes my neck until i pass into unconsciousness.

i don’t get the opportunity to read the text that arrives just at that moment.

‘you will also be on your way homein Mr Curtis’s car and one way or another  you WILL also be asleep. Sweet dreams, worm.’

29. Return

i wake as i am deposited, none too gently, on a cold floor and i hear a door close and lock.

i try to take stock of my predicament. Pretty sure i know where i am, in the basement with the running machine, where i spent some of the other evening. Needless to say i cannot see, i am hooded in leather. Heavy duty leather too. It is tight. Mouth filled with a ball, no doubt strapped round my neck which is stiff and immovable. Posture collar then.

Wrists are tightly fastened, as are my ankles, i am on my front and my legs are drawn back to the wrists. Hogtied, like an animal. Difficult to decide what else is going on, but i am naked as far as i can tell.

I hear the door open, hearing somewhat muffled by the hood.

‘Well, worm, welcome back. I didn’t expect to see you so soon. As such I am somewhat unprepared. As I am alone you will have to remain bound and I have no intention of making you comfortable seeing as you have lied to me this evening and failed the simplest of instructions.

i feel a dig in my ribs as her shoe, or boot makes firm contact with my side.

‘Let’s get one thing clear, worm. This is not about you, it wasn’t from the moment you accepted the invitation to my house. I have no need of contracts and safe words and all that play-acting baloney you may be used to from those other bitches. I am the real deal.’

‘The collar around your neck will have to do until I mark you more permanently but be assured you now belong to me. I am sure you have fantasised about such a thing in your past life. Be sure that you will never have imagined the reality. Your dream date was literally that, just a dream. You are now in reality and it never pans out the way you imagine.’

‘I will remove the gag now, and you will make no noise. I do not want any choking going on, it would be such a waste and somewhat inconvenient disposing of your body.’

‘Oh and incidentally, if you want to try and be smart and cover your disobedience, remember to forge the correct time. The time on the photo answered a text that hadn’t even been sent yet and showed a lack of attention to detail which I will not tolerate.’

Oof.Her boot toe retracts and thuds back into my ribs. She quickly removes the ball from my mouth and i cough and splutter as the saliva dribbles out of my mouth.

‘Now sleep, or not , I really don’t care.’

With that the door slams closed and i am alone.

And in deep shit.

30. Errand

‘Curtis, I have an errand for you.  Please deliver this envelope to the worm’s workplace. It was good thinking of you to clear out its room, it won’t be requiring it for a while. The business cards were a particular blessing and the computer will no doubt reveal a few hidden secrets when I have it unlocked.’

It is morning and Mistress is sipping tea in the kitchen from a china cup. Despite the hour she is already dressed. Curtis takes in the floor length, black satin gown, cinched with a corset at the waist, emphasising her ample cleavage and full hips. Her raven-black hair is up, swept back off the face, which is made up fairly heavily, though applied with a masterful technique.

‘Of course, Mistress Madelaine.  Any further instructions?

‘Just make sure the envelope is delivered to its work department, not its boss. Ask for a colleague to accept it.’

‘Very well.  Consider it done.’ Curtis turns to leave but Madelaine stops him.

‘Curtis? It has been a while since you were paid. Return after you have completed the task and you shall be remunerated in full.’

‘Mistress, it has been a while and I shall savour the payment, thank you.’

Curtis leaves the room and moments later a spatter of gravel announces his departure.

31. Disclosure

Jerry’s phone rings, as it does hundreds of times a day, but not usually with the distinct ring that announces that reception is calling.

‘Yeah, Jerry speaking.’ No point loading up with the full company approved patter.

‘Mr McGill, I have an envelope that has just been delivered. The gentleman wished it to be delivered to your department. Would you accept it? It’s a little irregular.’

‘What, you mean it’s a funny shape?’

The stuck-up bitch on reception was renowned for having zero sense of humour and treating those in sales with a glower or worse, utter indifference, whenever they passed through the lobby.

‘No Mr McGill, I mean it is not the correct way to accept mail in this building.’ Sure enough, he was wasting his time with his wit.

‘Who’s it from?’

‘He wouldn’t say, just that it was from a member of your department’

‘Ok, gorgeous, I’ll be down in a sec. Have that smile ready for me when I arrive.’

Sarcasm was his preferred mode of speech. Whichever idiot said it was the lowest form of wit was, well, an idiot.

‘Mr McGill will accept the letter, if you would care to take a seat over there?’ Gabrielle, gestures to the seating by the window.

‘No, I must be going I have an appointment this afternoon and I have no intention of missing it.’

‘Oh, but Sir, I would prefer if you wait and ensure the letter is delivered,’ the receptionist can think of no other excuse to delay this fabulous specimen of manhood any longer. He is built like an athlete, slim hips, triangular back and shoulders, an easy gait and charisma oozing from his every pore. Her stocking-clad legs cross involuntarily, briefly allowing Curtis a glimpse of garter belt and white thigh.

‘Any other day and you would have my undivided attention, but today I cannot. Perhaps I could buy you a drink to reward your kindness?’

With a smile and a hint of a wink, he is gone, without waiting for the affirmative answer he always receives.

‘But, I didn’t catch your name…’

He is gone, mere moments before Jerry arrives.

‘So where’s the letter? You are looking particularly hot today, Gabby.’

‘It’s here,’ she almost throws the letter at him, ‘you know full well I hate being called Gabby and I am actually quite cold, sitting beneath this a/c.’ She cannot prevent the look of disappointment after feasting her eyes on her visitor only to be left with the geek from sales.

‘Fucking frigid, more like,’ Jerry mutters under his beneath as he takes the envelope from the desk top.

Not being able to resist a glance at her breasts to check exactly how cold she is, he wheels round and heads off to the elevators, already ripping open the envelope.

‘Holy, fucking shit!’

The envelope contains a postcard-sized photograph, printed on high- quality photo paper along with a note written on hotel notepaper.

The image is of a fairly well kept, middle-aged man spread-eagled naked on a wooden cross, a leather bag on his head, tight collar fastened round his neck.

His penis is fastened to a block of wood with what looks like a 4 inch nail through its head. By the side of the man is a tanned, slight but muscular-looking younger male with somewhat feminine shoulder length blonde hair, holding the impaled penis in one hand and making an obscene gesture with his mouth and tongue.

‘What the fuck is this?’ Jerry stops dead in his tracks.

‘What is it?’ Suddenly Gabrielle is Miss Fascinated of Finchley.

‘Take a look at this shit?’

He proffers her the photo as he unfolds the note.

‘Sorry, mate, can’t make it to work today, i’m a little tied up,’ it reads.

‘Who the hell is that?’ Gabrielle’s guard is down and her curiosity is surprisingly piqued.

‘Oh I have no idea. Must be a prank. Just some internet picture.’

Snatching the photograph back from the receptionist he walks slowly back to the elevator, almost in a daze.

There is a website URL watermarked into the photograph, with a copyright symbol. The hotel paper would have been a clue too, but for him, the give-away is the nipples. How many middle-aged, fit-looking guys can there be with their nipples pierced like that.

‘Dark horse?  Buddy you’re the star of a fuckin’ freak show.’

32. Mr Curtis.

Curtis ambles back to the Range Rover with more than a little swagger in his step. These white chicks just couldn’t get enough of him, in fact it wasn’t just the white ones. Only the Orientals seemed oblivious to his charms, too much man for such small women was his way of explaining it.

A parking attendant begins to home in on the car, seeing Curtis returning to it and is about to approach and begin the usual lecture and probable fine, but stops when Curtis reaches inside and flashes his chauffeurs hat.  With a shrug as if it to say ’blame the boss’, he defuses the situation and she turns to walk off. Disappointment in not being able to issue the ticket or in not being able to engage the walking ebony sculpture in conversation. He will never know, nor really care.

The hat has its uses but generally he keeps it hidden. The car is his to all intents and purposes provided he is at Mistress Madelaine’s within an hour of her calling should she wish to be driven anywhere. Only then does he wear the hat. It goes down very well with the chicks. The car that is!

After arriving at Mistress’s home, set in woods off a discrete private drive, he would normally clean the car. It is never dirty for more than an hour after it has been stationary at the house. It’s no big deal for him, he loves the thing. Today he leaves it and enters the house by the back door.  Tradesman’s Entrance, a small sign proclaims; reminds him of arseholes.

He has a key to this door but it will only allow access to certain parts of the house, the back kitchen, back hallway, one of the reception rooms and the garage and gym of course. He makes himself a coffee from the machine in the back kitchen and takes it with him to await Mistress in the reception room.

‘I trust the mission is accomplished?’ She startles him as she enters the room silently.

‘Yes Mistress Madelaine, I believe so.’

‘Good, now we have business to conduct. Take off your clothes and come with me. Leave them there. Neatly!’

‘Of course, Mistress,’ he replies. Never ‘Yes, Mistress,’ she hates that.

How those women in the outside world would be surprised if they saw him now. His massive frameis honed to perfection in the gym at the back of the garage block. It is his other task apart from driving, to keep himself in tip-top shape.  The major shock, however, would be reserved for his ‘accoutrements’.

About his neck is a 2 cm thick gold plated collar, with a ring at the front carrying a name plate.  ‘Stud’, it proclaims on one side, ‘Property of Mistress Madelaine on the reverse.

His wrists and ankles are similarly adorned with gold bands, those at his wrists somewhat slimmer, those at the ankles, the same thickness. Both sets carry rings but like the collar and have no visible means of opening.

More shocking still is the jewellery through his nipples, heavy gauge gold hoops in the shape of a handcuff.

The killer is his penis. Huge, one would assume, but it is hard to tell as it is confined in a gold-coloured, curved metal tube attached to a shaped metal belt running round his waist.  The tube is far too small as can be seen by the head of it poking out of the end. A thick gold barbell runs right through the glans and prevents the tube being removed.  An erection in this apparatus would be painful to the point of being harmful. No chance of him fooling around with his admirers, then.

All of this is covered up in day-to –day activities by well-cut shirts and suits and an obligatory neck-tie.

He has worn them for some time now, his skin having passed the state of chaffing against the metal. They are actually his badges of honour. He is top rank. ‘Stud.’ There is no higher honour for him. He is acutely aware that with the title comes a responsibility. Performance, as and when required. No excuses. Be ready for service at a moment’s notice.

Any admirers brave enough to ignore these additions would be hard-pressed to ignore the rest.

His back carries the marks of sustained and regular whippings, showing as dark raised welts on his ebony skin. His buttocks similarly so. They are actually deep permanent scars, delivered over the years of his breaking. 

He was never trained, he was broken, like a wild animal. It would have been easier for him to have yielded to the training, for the result was ultimately the same. Faithful and unflinching obedience.

She reaches up and affixes a thick chain lad to the collar, ceremonial rather than of any real use. He could crush her like a mouse if he desired. But then what?

‘Your butt looks a little wobbly, stud. Have you been neglecting your squats?’

‘Mistress, no, I have had a calf strain which has cut down the reps this week.’ He bows his head in shame and annoyance at his failure.

‘Poor you.’

Sympathy is between shit and syphilis in Mistress’s dictionary too.

She swats his behind. ‘Upstairs with you. If you can still make the climb. Your payment is waiting.’

33. Remuneration

Along the corridor from the landing is a small suite consisting of a main room and an over- sized, white tiled bathroom, with walk in shower, toilet bowl, bidet and a peculiar seat arrangement, similar to that used for hoisting a disabled person into the bath.

In the main room, there is a bed with an iron frame, opposite a series of doors which, when opened, conceal a wash hand-basin and a fully stocked bar, aswell as a set of stocks, a sturdy metal cage and a rack of fetish items that would  stock a small shop.

In the cage crouches a naked female. Slim and very fit, flat stomach, pert tits, shapely dancers legs. Her wrists are fastened outside the cage, her backside to the wall. Her head is quite bald. No eyebrows even.

She is beautiful.

The disk at her silver collar reads, ‘slave slut’

‘Curtis, you may take your pleasure with her, I have no time for you this morning, as you know I have another matter to attend to.’ With that Mistress unfastens the padlock at the back of the chastity belt and leaves.

‘Lock yourself up when you are finished.’ With that she is gone, leaving Curtis supporting the belt rather than have it pull against his cock head.

With careful manipulation the piercing is through the tube, lucky he managed to keep himself in control as once the blood flows there is no way of getting his cock out of the gold cylinder.

Approaching the cage, M looks up at him lasciviously.

‘So, slave M, it appears that you are my cum bucket. Now where are the cage keys?’

‘Mistress has them Mr Curtis, sir.’ A hint of sarcasm.

Oh shit, the bitch. She knew full well what she was leaving me, an object to wank over.

‘Mr Curtis,i can suck you off or give you a hand job.’

Well bollocks to that. Quickly he drags the cage out of the cupboard so he can access her behind, which is conveniently pressed against the back of the cage.

‘No, Mr Curtis, please use my mouth….’

‘There is always a way, M. Now I have access to all of you’

Looking at her pussy he realises why she was more willing to see to him from the front. The long double row of labial piercings are fastened to the cage bars, spread apart and any thrusting in amongst them will surely be most uncomfortable for her.

‘Goddamn it, does she never stop fucking with us. Okay front it is.’

Quickly pushing the cage back to where it was, M offers her mouth to the cage bars and, kneeling, Curtis offers his prick to her mouth.

He may be a performing stud for his Mistress, but even he cannot resist M’s mouth, her pierced tongue flicking his ball sack as she deep-throats him expertly.

‘For crying out loud, M, I’ve not come for two weeks I want it to last more than thirty seconds.’

It is no good, she has obviously decided to get it done quick.

‘Cum bucket, am i?’ Well no point making it too enjoyable for you, then.’ She speaks between gob-fulls of cock, choking briefly, saliva dribbling down her chin and nose.

‘Well, fuck you, take this then.’

With that Curtis pulls his prick out of her reach outside the cage and with a few long strokes, wanks himself to orgasm all over her face and bald pate. Two weeks worth of it.

‘You sonofabitch, i can’t even clean myself off.’

‘You should have thought of that when you shot off your smart mouth, you slut. Just remember, Mistress is the only one in this house gives me orders’

He rises to his feet, and closes the cupboard door, the light clicking outbehind it.

34. Trussed

Curtis wanders down the stairs; he has managed to manoeuvre his cock back into the tube while in the bathroom and has clicked the oversize padlock shut in the small of his back. Of all the metal he wears about his body everyday it is that lock that bothers him most, digging into his lower back whenever he is seated.

He complained to Mistress Madelaine about it once. Two weeks later he still could only perch on a chair. He let the matter rest.

‘My, that was quick. Wash she so horny?’ Mistress almost bumped into him, exiting her own suite of rooms.

‘She was dripping by the time I had finished with her, Mistress,’ a sly grin etched on his face.

‘Very well, I trust you are trussed up again?’

‘Ye..Of course, Mistress.’ Christ he nearly said Yes, Mistress.

‘Very good. I will need your help in the basement. I believe our guest is getting restless.’

35. Basement

i had long since lost track of time. It seemed to have been hours before someone loosened the hog-tie a little and threw down a pillow. Of course i could see nothing and so spent an age shuffling around trying to find it.  i guess i slept, for i had some fairly intense dreams, images of hordes of revellers doing all manor of unspeakable things to each other, all dressed in latex, dripping sweat to a back-beat of techno music.

Then i awoke with a spasm in the back of my leg. Prone to cramp, particularly in the big muscles at the back of the thigh, this was the worst position to be in, with no way to fully straighten the leg and relieve the tension.

Agony. Oh yes. Anyone who has had cramp will appreciate it. Right at that moment i would have chewed razor blades and fucked a cheese grater in preference. Best be careful what i wish for.

The screaming began, i could not help myself, no gag and i was thrashing around trying to find some form of relief.

Over my screaming i barely hear the door. I feel the boot in my ribs alright.

‘Worm, you had better shut that racket, or a bit of cramp will be the least of your worries’

‘Curtis, cut its legs’

Oh my dusky friend has joined us, fun and joy for all.

‘Mistress?’ So glad he thought he had mis-heard too.

‘Cut its legs free and stretch the leg out, come on you are supposed to be an athlete, work its ankle until the spasming stops’

Curtis slashes the cord attaching my ankles to my wrists behind my back. i shoot my legs out so fast i almost kick him in the shins.

‘Oooh, temper, temper. Maybe it is not ready to be helped, Curtis, shall we leave it alone again.’

‘No, please, i’m sorry, i couldn’t help, Mistress please, don’t go, pl.....’

My grovelling is stopped by a kick in the crotch, driving the chastity contraption into my guts.

‘Oh for Christ’s sake, it’s pissed itself’ Curtis turns away in disgust as a dark stain grows on the floor, leaking from the hole in the end of the tube.

‘Oh dear. Worm is in distress. Maybe i should get you to tidy that up my prissy stud. I know you love all things.... lavatorial.’

Mistress throws her head back and laughs, the first time i had heard laughter here. Not sure i like it.

Of all the things she had done and all the things he had endured in his conditioning, it was an hour in a ‘medical room’ that had finally broken him. He could not abide bodily fluids, even his own. Even watching his seed drip off M’s head had almost turned his stomach. As for pee and the rest? No. Not his thing. An inflatable tube up his arse and the threat of a warm pee enema had finally humbled him.

The funnel in his mouth hadn’t helped either!

Mistress crouches and lifts my head by the laces on the hood.

‘Now listen to me, you worthless piece of shit, i will release you from the bindings on condition you behave and listen to what i have to tell you.’

If she shouted at me i would be scared, when she whispers, i am petrified.

‘Yes, Mistress.’ It’s all i can think to say.

Curtis winces from behind her.

‘Yes, Mistress, indeed.’ As you are merely raw material right now, i shall ignore that comment. Say it once more though and it will be to your eternal detriment. Understand!’ Her voice raised slightly now.

‘No, sorry. I didn’t...’ i have no idea what she wants from me, best just shut up.

She slaps my face and i think my teeth have rattled loose.

‘What did you say?’

‘Nothing, Mistress. I’m sorry. Forgive me, i don’t know what i said to...’

Whack. Another smack across the face, this time with something less yielding than a hand,

‘There are three words that are never spoken together in this house. They are?’

She turns to Curtis questioningly.

‘Yes’

‘No’

‘Mistress’

‘Correct, stud. Yes, no and Mistress.’

‘No, is a forbidden word on its own if it is in answer to a question at any time. Combined with Mistress makes it no more acceptable.’

‘Yes, can be said at any time, but not with the word Mistress directly following it.’

What the fuck is she on about? i thought i was supposed to be respectful. She told me the other night not to ever forget her title in a sentence.

‘Uttering, Yes, Mistress, is the ultimate in laziness and shows no respect, merely paying lip-service to your betters. This is not some movie, where the sluts perform for money, this is reality. My reality.’

‘You have been warned. Any future infraction will not bode well for your continued well-being,’

Yanking my head up to hers she calmly speaks. ‘Understood? Worm?’

‘This worm understands, Mistress.’

‘Ha, ha, very good, it has a brain! There is hope after all. Following your little stunt last night with the photograph, i began to wonder.’

Last night! Oh shit, am i going to miss work again. Franklin will go berserk, especially if i don’t warn him.

‘Now, Curtis here will release you. The hood will remain on, but the eye flap will be removed. The cuffs will also remain on and locked but not to each other. However, you may move about un-encumbered. I strongly suggest you find a method of removing your piss from my floor and getting it in the bucket over there.

After you have completed the task we shall talk about your future.

With that she was gone with a flutter of heavy material and the clicking of heels, up the stairs and away.

36. Puzzle

i can see and move around, The spasms in my leg have subsided but it is sore, i massage it and it is a little better. Stretch the calf by standing with my toes on the end of the treadmill and dipping into the ankles. Old riding trick to get ones heels down.

Looking around there is all manner of stuff in here, some vaguely gym-related stuff and some equipment of a more sadistic nature, though some would say the tread mill is sadistic enough. Or masochistic, perhaps.

i see the metal pail in the corner, but there is no mop or cloth. i hunt around again, still nothing, no towels, no cloths, no sponge, nothing.

The puddle is sizeable and stinks. First morning pee and a stressed one at that. Yuk.

She cannot mean me to lick it up surely. It would never work anyway unless i licked the floor too.

‘Oh fuck.’

Is that what she has in mind?

‘No fucking way.’

No i’m missing something. The bitch would have watched that, it would have been a humiliation. She is testing me. What the fuck is in here that i’m missing?

Then i see it,

There is a small locker, almost like a school one. Metal, slats in it to let the air in.

i open it and there are my clothes, a pair of white CK’s, grey track suit bottoms, and a grey t-shirt. i was not wearing them when Shadow jumped me. (he didn’t jump me did he? How would i know?) but they were on the bed.

So that’s it then, the pants are thick flocked cotton and they will sponge up the liquid alright. Maybe i should use the shirt, it will dry quicker after it’s washed?

I get to it, kneeling down, being careful not to set my thigh off again and begin soaking up the puddle. After two or three dunks and squeezes in the bucket, the shirt is almost useless.

The pants are next then and soon after the puddle is pretty much gone, just a dark, damp stain on the concrete.

Now what? Sit here? Stand? Go for a run? Ha, i don’t think so. Bang on the door to say i am finished?

‘Er. No.’

Nevertheless i can’t help but try the door. Carefully turning the handle, hoping it does not squeak, it pushes right down and clicks. Open

Choices.

Run naked up the stairs and into Shadow. No

Run naked up the stairs and pray i can get out the house. No.

Where will i go, running round the countryside in nothing but a cock lock that looks like it is a prop from Tomb Raider. No.

i could get dressed. Ahhh. Clever, she wants to see if i will wear this piss-soaked stuff and then make a dash for it. Better, but still not great.

‘You done down there?’ Curtis! At the top of the stairs.

‘Yes....erm...Sir....Sorry, i was just going to...’

I have no idea what i was going to...

‘Wait by the cross, on your knees, head up, hands on the knees, palms up.’

‘Got it?’

‘Yes, er, of course Sir.’ The same rule may apply to him too.

He is down the steps in seconds.

‘I told you in an elevator once before, do not refer to me as, Sir. I am not a master, i am a slave too. Just a higher grade. I have earned my stripes, if you get my drift?’

He sounds almost familial.

‘Now, i have some instructions to carry out. Do not be so foolish as to resist.

‘Then you can go home.’

37. Future

i am in the same room where i was raped by Mistress Victoria’s pet a couple of days ago. Mr Curtis, for that is what he told me to refer to him as, has re-arranged my attire.

The elaborate, heavy and impenetrable chastity device is gone. Quick manipulation by his surprisingly deft fingers released me in no time as i stood against the cross, arms up, loosely fastened to it.

In its place is a leather-edged, metal belt that cinches round the waist, locked at the back. It goes between the legs and encases my penis tightly but only to the base of the glans. Access to the piercing in the end is now possible. My hanging balls dangle below, nothing fastened round the scrotum this time, the belt itself appears to be security enough.

i am kneeling on the floor in the classic slavery pose, palms up on the knees. Never actually seen a man adopt this position, only females. The movies i watch, i guess.

My head is still hooded and the eye flap is closed, my mouth is filled with a big rubber ball gag. I must look like a right twat.

The collar is still on and cuffs of a similardesign are now in place on my wrists and ankles.

Mistress is seated opposite me on the sofa. At least that’s where it sounds that her voice is coming from, i have still barely glimpsed the room and i have not set eyes on her at all. i have an image in my head, but it has no corroboration.

‘So, worm. To our chat.’

i hear stocking clad thighs brush against each other as i assume she crosses her legs. Or uncrosses them? Whatever.

‘You have choices to make. Strange as that may seem.’

‘In a few minutes you will leave here and return to your hotel with Curtis. No choice there, it will happen,’

‘From then on your future is in your hands. You will return here later this week. There is no choice there either. When you return, you will have decided your future.’

She pauses. For effect, i think. It’s not the X-factor, get on with it.

‘One. Return and have the collar and the rest removed. For good. You shall then never engage in any bdsm activities with anyone as long as you live. Be sure i will find out if you do and you shall then wish you had no longerto live.’

This time the pause for effect has the desired, well, effect.

‘Two. Return and commit to living your life outside these walls but under my complete command. You shall not hide your ownership nor disobey any orders or requests. You will admit to and revel in being my property and all your acquaintances must understand this to be the case. Think of it as ‘coming out’ for a homosexual or a trans-gender.’

‘Three. Return and commit to me totally, as my property, for me to do with entirely as i see fit, no get out clauses, no safe-words, no freedom. Until i grow bored. For i shall. Eventually.’

‘Four.  Actually there is no four.  Keep it simple That is all.’

With that she is gone, no questions, just choices, all or nothing. Either forfeit my urges to dabble in the scene or be outed as a ‘pervert’. Or just disappear, completely into a life of servitude.

Whatever would my wife say?

End of Part Two.

Dream Date With A Domme.

Part Three.   

By 781-524-112.

38. Clean

i’m getting a bit worn out with all this squatting in a cage in the back of a Range Rover lark.

i was ‘invited’ to climb in at Mistress’s house, still hooded and unable to see anything. Naked, but for collar, cuffs and chastity belt. Something heavy and soggy was thrown in the cage after me and the rear door was shut and we were off, gravel crunching under the tyres of the car.

‘I would suggest you get dressed before we arrive, worm. It is daylight.’

So here i am struggling to get into a soaking wet t-shirt and jogging pants in a cage in the back of a moving vehicle, while being unable to see. An interesting exercise and by the time i am done i feel like i have been in a blender, for Curtis spares no thought for my travails as he whips round corners and appears to brake late and accelerate hard.

Eventually I manage it and minutes later, the car stops, the rear door is opened and so is the cage.

Strong but nimble fingers undo the lacing of the hood and it is removed. Strangely I hadn’t even considered trying to remove it myself. It never occurred to me that it would be just be laced and not locked.

‘Here’s your room key card, don’t lose it. Someone will be in touch regarding arrangements for tonight. And you’ll  be needing this.’

He throws me a small purse. Pink canvas.

With that he is gone and I realise I am in the parking garage in the hotel basement. I have no idea what time it is but it feels like early morning, the garage’s fluorescent lighting giving no clue.

Up in the lift to floor four, I exit and quickly walk along the corridor to my room, turn a corner and walk almost straight into an elderly couple.

‘Sorry.’

No response from them, just a look of disdain and a wrinkle of their lips as they take in the state of my clothes.

‘Early morning jog,  got a bit carried away and a bit of rain about too.’ I utter in as unflustered a way as I can manage as I detour round them and hurry on past a maid’s trolley

‘Smells like he pissed himself on the way, too.’ The old guy remarks to his companion.

‘Lionel, for goodness sake, will you watch your language,’ the old dear scolds.

At the room, I slide in the key card, now is not the time for it to fail. Green light, phew, I am in.

The room is in disarray still, the bed unmade. Good, just time to get a shower and change and then I can get off to work.

Quickly, I dodge in the bathroom, rip off the sodden clothes and take a long leak in the toilet. Boy did I need that, cold and busting for a pee. Not good. Not that it would really have mattered if I’d lost control, under the circumstances.

I jump straight in the shower, remembering first to go back and check the door is locked. Been caught that way before! Finally, warmth and cleanliness, no thought for the leather  cuffs on my limbs. I use all of the hotel’s complimentary shampoo and feel like me again. Clean and fresh, good to go. Get my head on right, get to work, apologise to Franklin, then get out of this mess I have created for myself.

Once dried off and relaxed, I wander over and open the wardrobe and react in complete shock to the four sides, empty coat hangers and a forlorn looking iron and board propped up in it.

I open the other cupboard. Nothing. Drawers? Empty.

Back in the bathroom, it dawns on me that my shaving kit is gone too. My laptop, phone. Shit.

Gone. The room is devoid of anything belonging to me. I slump down on the bed and see the pink canvas purse laying where I had thrown it.

It contains my bank card and a folded note.

On it is written, ‘worm. you will be able to draw a maximum of £250 from your back account which should be enough to buy some clothes before you go in to work. Do not miss my call or that will be all you will possess for the rest of the week.’

‘Jesus, fucking Christ!’

i had just got my head back to normality and here i was, back under her thumb again. What the fuck was i going to do, now?

Bang, bang.

The door.

‘Hello, may I service room, please.’ A muffled oriental-sounding voice from out in the hall.

Bollocks.

‘No just leave it for a while, please, I’ll sort the room, ok?’

‘But sir, I need give you towel.’

i crack the door open and reach out to take the offered towel and she pushes at the door and barges in, straight into the bathroom. i am left cowering, naked, behind the door.

As she turns to leave, she shoots me a quick glance, no reaction discernible on her face at all and leaves.

Hotels. i guess they see all sorts.

Anyway, no time for all that, somehow i need to get some clothes and get to work.

39. Franklin

‘Booth. My office, right now.’

My first phone call of the day. Well it would be having been in the office all of twelve minutes. It’s almost twelve-thirty. Franklin, pissed off as expected. Face the music time.

His office is the only work space on my end of the floor that has a door. The rest of us a have cubicles or desks the size of which depends on one’s rank within the company. It always made me wonder why the people with most to do have the smallest space. The work gets done by the juniors whose desks are usually over-flowing with paper, while the ‘execs’ just need a keyboard and a phone. Check mail and book lunch, that’s all they need to do.

Quick rap on the door and i enter, ‘Mr Franklin, what can I do for you?’

‘Sit down, Booth. I need a talk with you about your work of late’

‘Sir, before we go on, I must apologise for the….’

‘Booth, shut up and listen. I am going to tell you this once and once only.’

I really don’t need this shit right now.  I have just spent the morning being humiliated in the worst possible way. Returned to my hotel with nothing but soaking jogging gear, exposed to the maid in a chastity belt and then out into the world again to buy clothes suitable for the office looking like a vagrant with a bladder problem. A lecture, I do not need but I’m going to get one anyway.

‘Your work, of late, has been… how shall I put it…’

Sloppy, unfocussed, distracted…shit, maybe?

‘….inspired.’

‘Sir, like I said….pardon…inspired?’ I didn’t hear that right or he’s taking the piss.

‘Yes, son, inspired. You have shown a concise and targeted approach to problem solving that has been noticed by those on the upper floor. All that flim-flam and dressing has gone and you are cutting to the chase and getting the job done, adding value to this organisation and showing the ‘can-do’ attitude that we need.’

And the prize for the most corporate-speak clichés in one sentence goes to…

‘Son, you are being recommended for a promotion to business development manager and I expect you to take the opportunity and do this organisation proud.’

He’s at least ten years younger than me. If he calls me son again, I’m going to wallop him, the smug bastard.

‘Now get yourself out there, clear your desk and move into the free station by the window, until we can get you an office sorted.’

I am in shock and part of me still thinks that the desk clear-out will be followed by an escort out of the building.

‘By the way, Booth, before tomorrow, just one more thing.’

Here we go.

‘Buy a fucking watch! You’ll need to be on time for lunch at thirteen hundred with the CEO.’

‘Yes, Sir, sorry, I will.’

I close the door on my way out and turn to see Jerry, who has obviously been hanging round trying to eavesdrop.

‘Well, sport, your pants aren’t showing any signs of blood so I guess you still have your arse-hole intact. Which is a surprise to me.’

‘Look Jerry, I guess you covered for me and I’m grateful…’

‘Covered. Yes, I got the account complete this morning and sent it away from the files you had on the shared drive. Otherwise you would have been gone. No problem though, you just owe me one. Big time. So what did he say?’

He puts his arm round my shoulders and leads me back to the work stations.

‘You on probation?’ he whispers, desperate to get the gossip to spread round the department.

‘Actually he’s promoting me. I’m out for lunch with him and Barnes at one.’

I honestly said it as a matter of fact and, still reeling from the unexpected turn of events, didn’t realise it sounded like I was rubbing Jerry’s nose in it. He had covered my ass for a week while my head was in cuckoo-land.

‘Son of a bitch.’ Jerry’s arm squeezes tighter across my shoulders, surprisingly so for a lightly-built guy.

‘You’ll go far. Use your mates and dump them when you get the bigger job. If you were a dame, I would have said you fucked your way to a promotion, but as it is I reckon maybe you got yourself fucked for it instead.’

The arm is gone and so is he, ‘congratulations,’ he shouts in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

40. Shock

Lunch goes okay, I get a comment about my new shirt and tie. If only they knew.  A pep-talk from Barnes, the big boss. Talking to me like a mate, when he’s barely acknowledged my existence as a human being previously.

Frankly I’m glad when it’s over, though the food was much-needed and very enjoyable. Two hours. So this is executive life, then.

Back to the office and I go back to my ‘cube’ and start to get my stuff together. The promotion is a ‘shoe-in, I’m told. It has to be authorised but will go ahead, so best to move now and distance oneself from the troops. Barnes’ idea.

For fuck’s sake, it just rubs their noses in it even more. The guys in the team have done all the work. I just guided them in the right directions. When I wasn’t thinking about having my backside leathered or spending the night on the floor in a hogtie, that is.

The department is quiet and I am becoming increasingly paranoid that everyone is looking at me and I should really say something and thank them for their work and all that. As I am moving papers on the desk, my hand catches the mouse and the monitor comes to life.

There on the screen is some hooded bloke tied to a cross with a.. I don’t know..bloke or girl, I can’t tell, kneeling on the floor making some gesture towards the guys dick.

Which appears to be nailed to a block of wood.

Fucking hell, that’s me! How the….?

I turn round reflexively to see if anyone’s looking and the whole department is staring at me over the top of partitions and each other.

‘We can see you were a bit tied up this week while we were all breaking our balls to get the contract out. Well done buddy. You have the lifestyle that will endear you to the politicians too it seems.’

‘You fucking perv.’ Jerry turns and sits back down as a wave of nervous laughter rolls round the room.

Just then, the phone rings.

41. Afternoon

‘Hiya, love, it’s me, I just had a phone call from Ben. It’s great you getting a promotion, I’m so proud of you. It makes all that work away from home worthwhile. Call me when you get chance. Bye, love.’

I couldn’t answer the phone, I just let it go to voicemail. The wife. Glad I didn’t answer it. Not sure quite how I would have sounded and I would have had a whole department listening in. Who the hell is Ben? Not Franklin, surely?

Why couldn’t I just have reacted differently when that picture came on the screen? I gave away the fact it really was me just by how I acted. Indifference or laughter and it would have been forgotten about.

Moving to the desk by the window was a blessing and I’d spoken to no-one for two hours. Hadn’t called home yet, though.

I was still thinking through a plausible get-out explanation but  I was damn sure I wasn’t going through all that again.  I knew now, I was getting out of this hole I’d dug myself, no more fooling about, I’d nearly blown my whole life apart for what? A stupid notion that I would be happy as a slave?

The phone rings again and I start in a panic, seeing it’s reception calling, I pick up the phone.

‘Mr Booth?’

‘Gabrielle, hi. What can I do for you?’

‘You have er…guests.. In reception, Mr Booth, would you come down?’

‘Guests?’ I  wasn’t expecting anyone, ‘who is it?’

‘They didn’t say, sir, but I really think you should come down. Quick as you can please.’

Click. The phone went dead.

I disappear off to the lifts, the department has settled down a bit and I don’t feel quite as many eyes boring into my back as I expected.

Coming out into reception, I walk over to the desk and Gabrielle has a peculiar expression on her face. Relieved but excited somehow.

‘Mr Booth, your guests….on the couches by the window.’

‘Thanks, Gabrielle, did you offer them coffee?

‘Er no. It never  occurred  to me, I can if you wish?’

‘Please.’

Only then do I turn the corner and see who it is. A well-built black guy in an expensive suit. Curtis!

I would have thought immediately,’ what the fuck is he doing here,’ but his companion breaks the thought off the minute I see her. I approach the sofas, quickly, trying to avoid them having to raise their voices.

‘Come sit by me, worm’ The woman on the couch purrs.

Not Mistress’s voice, bearing in mind Curtis was the only one I had ever seen, that was all I had to go on.

‘Excuse me, madam, but do I know you?’ I have had more than enough now, I have resolved to end this fiasco and certainly do not want any more of this spilling over into work. Nevertheless, I try to take in her outfit. It is tough to do with only a glance. It needs time to savour it.

Just then Gabrielle comes round the corner, presumably to offer them a drink.

‘Good afternoon, Miss.’ Curtis rises and extends his hand palm up. ’Nice to see you, again.’

Again???  What? Has he been here before already?

‘And you too, Mr..?’ Gabrielle is almost melting as charm oozes from him. She accepts his hand and he bends to kiss the back of hers.

I have never in my life seen anyone do that and get away with it.

‘Curtis. Just call me Curtis.’

‘Gabrielle. Hunt. Pleased to meet you.’  Her voice is like velvet but she can barely hide the flutter in it.

The woman on the couch, crosses her legs. That gets my attention back to her.

‘When you two have finished preening, I would like a coffee. Black, dash of dark rum and a sugar cube.’

She then lights a cigarette with absolutely no hint of the fact that she is breaking the law of the land.

‘Erm, Miss….you can’t…..’

‘Lady, actually. Lady Victoria. Run along dear, I have to speak to ‘worm’ here in private.’

‘But.. Lady, whatever, I cannot allow you to smoke on the premises and I have no alcohol.’

‘I said, run along and my name is not ‘whatever’ it is Victoria.’ Her voice too allows no room for argument and I realise now who it is.’

I stand, fixated. Shall I sit? Run? Kneel?  Running sounds perfect, get the hell out of this situation. I know, however, flight is not really an option at all.

‘Lady Victoria. Mr Curtis. Please. I must ask you to leave the building, I have a good job here and you are going to get me fired. I am supposed to make a decision today and I have made that decision. I will not be continuing this liaison with your friend and I wish to be released back to my normal life as per her conditions. As in, never to dabble in this stuff again.’

Lady Victoria takes a long drag on her cigarette, elegance itself in her long opera length gloves.

Curtis meanwhile, does not appear elegant, he looks about ready to rip me limb from limb, tensing his muscles and placing himself closer to me than is comfortable in normal situations.

‘Actually, worm, you are to make that decision this evening when you return to Madelaine’s. Until that time you will act as you should to your betters and ensure your head is at a lower level than mine when you address me.’

A boot in the back of the legs, Curtis’s, puts me on my knees. He’s done that before, I recall and I glimpse Gabrielle rounding the corner with security. Shockingly Curtis smiles at her, gestures and she takes hold of the guards arm and mutters something to him about it being okay and she was mistaken and he leaves.

Gabrielle minces back in her tight, long, black dress and expensive heels and stands right beside Curtis, looking down at me prostrate at Lady Victoria’s feet.

I flush up.

‘Now worm, you didn’t complain when you were drinking my piss from a bowl prior to sucking my pussy, did you? You were rather good at it too.’ Lady Victoria sits forward, her cleavage crunching up in the shiny black, sleeveless cat-suit. Thigh-booted legs still crossed.

Gabrielle’s face reacts merely with the widening of her eyes and she shuffles a little as Curtis takes her elbow gently to steady her. She is loving this.

‘I’m sorry, but I cannot..’

Her hand shoots out and slaps me clean across the cheek and I barely manage not to fall over.

‘Listen to me, worm. You are going to leave here with Curtis and I right now and we are going to your Mistress’s house to finalise the arrangements for the remainder of your life according to your choice, but it will happen tonight, not now. So shut the fuck up and do as you are told, understand?’

‘Yes, Mistress.’ i reply.

Thwack.

Another crack across the cheeks, harder still.

‘I am not your Mistress, she is waiting for you. Now get up and let’s get going before Curtis has to crease that immaculate Armani suit of his.’

i am on my feet after she has arisen and marched off towards the revolving door, her boot heels clicking on the marble. She turns.

‘If you wish to bring her with you, Curtis, you have my permission.’ She is gone.

‘Get going you, he gestures to the door and my legs take over and i follow like a…well, like a slave, really.’

‘You coming along?’ Curtis turns to Gabrielle.

‘Mister, I let you go out of this building once not knowing how to contact you, I won’t be making the same mistake again.’

And with that, we are off, consequences forgotten as we are entrapped in our respective webs.

42.Departure

As we all emerge on the street, i see the Range Rover parked on double yellow lines, a traffic warden standing beside it. Ha, they are not totally above the law then.

Curtis merely gesticulates and the warden moves off. It was like he was looking after the car. How do they have this power?

Curtis pips the central locking and opens the rear kerb-side door for Lady Victoria and she enters gracefully as if she were wearing jeans and trainers not a skin-tight catsuit and heels. The impression is that her outfit is not for my benefit or anyone elses but is the way she dresses. Always. She is perfectly at ease, no hint of self-consciousness.

I am then ushered into the same door as if i was being arrested, Curtis’s hand on my head to stop me banging it, like i have never got in a car before. Lady Victoria has moved across the back seat and is relaxed already, cigarette in hand and a glass of dark liquid in her hand. This thing has a bar?

I am aware that i have been in this vehicle three times already and only now have i been seated. The cage in the back is still there i notice, but i am not placed in it. Hmm. What has changed?

Before i get too comfortable, Curtis reaches in and fastens my seat belt and i hear an additional click. He moves my feet back to the bulkhead below the seat, reaches and finds something and i hear two more clicks and i realise my feet are secured.

‘Put you arms up behind your back.’

I move them but obviously don’t quite get the jist of his instruction. He takes hold of my left wrist, his grip like steel and pulls it up towards my shoulder blades, palms flat to the back of the seat. I hear another click and my wrist is held in position.

‘The same with the other wrist.’

I obey his commend and he reaches behind me and snaps the restraint mechanism on my right wrist.

I am now angled slightly forward from the seat back as my fingers touch high up my back, elbows sticking out so it looks like i am doing an impression of a chicken. Or a trussed up turkey.

‘Don’t worry, the restraints are hooked into the car’s accelerometers for the airbags and they will release if we have an accident, as will the double lock on the seat belt so you will not be trapped in the car.’ Curtis explains with some pride.

‘My little invention.’

He removes something from the door pocket, it smells of leather. A leather drawstring bag. In a second it is put over my head and the draw-string is pulled tight but not tied, there is no need to tie it as i cannot move.

The door is shut, the thick tinted windows giving no clue as to the state of the rear occupants.

Gabrielle is waiting patiently on the kerb until Curtis finishes and then he opens the passenger door and he helps her inside. More like a chauffeur than a cop this time. The door is closed. He looks for traffic and walks round the front of the car and gets in behind the wheel and fires up the big V8.

Turning to Gabrielle, he says, ‘Sorry, my dear, but rules are rules.’

With that he puts her seat belt on and pulls another, similar bag from the glove compartment (i guess that should be a hood compartment) and places it matter-of-factly over Gabrielle’s head also.

‘I can fasten you in too if you wish but i think you can be trusted, no?

She declines to answer, just sits back and smoothes her black dress tight along her thighs.

‘Excellent, let’s be off then.’

Lady Victoria stares, absent-mindedly out of the side window as if this is the most boringly mundane journey ever.

43. Revealed

Crunching of gravel announces our arrival. A gloved hand wraps around my throat and pulls at the drawstring bag.

‘Welcome.’

The one word from Lady Victoria’s lips for the whole journey and i nearly shit myself. I am terrified, more so than before. Why? In a moment i shall express my choice to quit this fiasco and i will be away. I may have to walk to find a taxi but i will be free of these nutters.

I am ushered inside, through the front door (i recognise it from the number of  steps) and into the hallway i first entered a few nights ago.

‘Knees.’

Curtis quietly beckons me to get off my feet. Almost sounded like he was being protective.

‘You, Miss, may take off the hood.’

Gabrielle removes the bag. She looks at me on my knees on the tiles in a large hallway. A solid oak staircase extends up to one side and a few very robust-looking doors exit to each side of the bottom of the staircase.

One of these opens and probably the most formidable looking female Gabrielle has ever set eyes on in her young life emerges from it.

About five feet six in stocking feet, but looking considerably taller with the heels Gabrielle glimpsed  beneath the full length, tight leather skirt. The woman’s waist clinched with a broad black bustier supporting very generously sized breasts straining against the buttons of a starched white blouse.

The high collar is buttoned and enhances an elegant face, fine cheek bones, aquiline nose atop a stern, thin-lipped mouth. Possibly around fifty years old but hard to judge. She is more heavily made up than one would expect at this time of day.

But it is the hair and the eyes that are the intimidating part.

Raven black hair, pulled severely off the face and contained in a tight bun, leaving those eyes an unobstructed view with which to bore into one’s soul. Jet black pits of menace shockingly trained on Gabrielle’s.

‘So, Mr Curtis was correct. The girl fell under his spell and came along.’

Mistress Madelaine was actually talking to herself not Gabrielle, Curtis or her friend. Most certainly not to me.

‘Young Lady, why are you here?’

Directed towards the girl now. Lady Victoria is standing just to one side, drawing on another cigarette while Curtis stands close behind Gabrielle.

Fortunately the elegant black dress she is wearing will not show the sweat rapidly building in her armpits.

‘I...am not really sure, madam... i just had to follow.’

‘Madam. Hmm. Very correct way for you to address me, young lady. Not many manage that with their first greeting’

‘Very well. You will bear witness to this,’ she gestures dismissively towards me, ‘creature’s choice tonight, which will determine the course of the rest of its life’

‘You are here of your own free will and we will not harm you  in any way, my dear. However...’

A pause and the eyes intensify even more as they burn into Gabrielle’s own.

‘..you will do as you are asked immediately while you are in my house or you will be invited to leave and Mr Curtis here will return you to your.....judging by the beautiful and expensive dress you are wearing...apartment in town, never to return.’

‘Is that understood?’

‘Yes, madam. Perfectly.’

‘The dress is exquisite. Cut beautifully, the décolletage is just right and it offers support round the breast too. I trust you have no need of a brassiere, dear.’

‘No, madam, i find them uncomfortable and i do not really need one’

Why had she added that? Was it to be-little the older woman with her breasts up-thrust so artificially?

‘Indeed, I see that. It fits around your hips like a body stocking. I always find a tight long skirt infinitely more provocative than a short one, don’t you? Much more sexy and yet so much more classy too?’

‘I think so, madam and thank....’

‘Remove it!’

‘Pardon.....,’ natural hesitation and disbelief in Gabrielle’s voice.

‘Mr Curtis?’ Mistress Madelaine lifts her chin ever so slightly as she speaks.

‘Mistress.’ he replies in understanding, reaches from behind with both hands, grabs the lapels of the dress and rips the front of it out in one movement.

Gabrielle gasps as if she has just been immersed in freezing-cold water.

‘A little slow to obey my dear. Your breasts are as magnificent as I imagined. I so prefer large dark nipples to the insipid pink ones. An advantage of being brunette, perhaps.’ A subtle glance towards Victoria is met with a huff and a toss of long blonde locks.

Gabrielle’s face fills with blood and she blushes bright pink at this exposure and critique of her chest.

But she does not move a muscle.

‘Leave it like that, it is better than nakedness actually.’

‘Now follow me.’

‘V, bring it with you please, darling.’ A wave of the hand in my direction, Madelaine has already turned and is heading into one of the reception rooms.

I have seen nothing, but my cock is hard like a poker.

44. Vision

I am lead into the same room as a few nights ago by a hand clasped underneath the drawstring hood. This was the scene of my ‘rape’ by Lady Victoria’s ‘boy’.

‘This room will have fond memories for you, your face buried in various pussies. Must have been such a fun night for you.’

Lady V’s hand it was leading me in then.

‘You, whatever your name is. Stand in the corner over there, hands behind your head and look into the room, do not move from there until you are told to.’

I assume this was all directed at our gorgeous receptionist and i hear movement in the room through the hood to confirm it. Am i alone with her and Lady V, now then?

‘Secure it’s hands to it’s ankles and have it adopt a proper position please, V’

I am not alone with them then as that was Mistress Madelaine’s voice. I am sat back on my knees with my ankles underneath my butt and my wrists are manacled to my ankles with what feels like handcuffs. Bizarrely i am still fully clothed in my office gear.

‘Now, worm, a little explanation. As I alluded to before you have a choice to make this evening. If you remember there are three options. Leave and kiss goodbye to any BDSM- related activities in the future. Continue your life as it is but under my command. Or submit totally and become a full-time slave in this house.’

‘Mistress, i...’

‘Silence.’

I am immediately interrupted and shut up instantly. I’m learning. It will be soon be over and I can get out of this place and get back to my normal life. Smooth things over with the team at work and forget this ever happened.

‘You will not decide yet. I said you will decide this evening but not yet. You are cold at the moment and not in the correct frame of mind to make an informed choice. So i guess we shall have to warm you up a little’

‘Lady V. If you wouldn’t mind.’

With that request, possibly the most startling thing yet occurs.

My hood is removed and i am allowed to see for the first time in this house.

What i see affects me in a way i could not begin to imagine.

The room is an elegant drawing room. High ceilings, moulded cornices, large ornate Georgian fire-place, expensive draped curtains, solid-looking oak furniture and a green leather Chesterfields and chaise-longues scattered about the room.

Instead of the customary country scene over the fire-place there is a huge oil painting of a woman. Dressed in cream jodphurs and a tight jacket and riding hat, riding crop and gloves clutched in one hand, she looks about ready to embark on a days hunt.

Except at her side is not a trusty foxhound but a naked male on all fours on a lead, head bowed looking at her brown riding boots.

‘I was younger then, indeed and he was such a good dog until he strayed and had to be....re-educted.’

Turning my head i see her for the first time and she bears no relationship to the picture i had of her in my mind. I expected a younger woman. Slimmer in a more overtly ‘dominatrix’ type outfit. She looks like a governess in a Victorian school might have looked, though maybe the long skirt would not have been made of leather. Not one thing about her appearance is how i imagined her to be.

But she is perfect.

‘This evening you are going to have some fun.’

45. Fantasy?

The door opens again and Curtis leads in a girl. She is tiny, a thin, white cloth covering her. It looks almost like a big pillow case with a hole cut in it for her head. Her arms are enclosed within.

She is totally bald and reminds me of that Irish girl that sang a huge hit years ago, Sinead something or other. O’Connor, that was her. Elfin face, dark eyebrows in stark contrast to her bald pate. She is tanned  a beautiful golden brown colour.

‘She is prepared, Mr Curtis?’ Mistress Madelaine sits back on one of the leather loungers, as if waiting to be entertained.

‘Mistress, she is prepared as you wished.’

‘Good. Now V, i think we need to prepare worm here, too. Would you mind removing his clothes and his device, i think he should be allowed a little freedom tonight.

‘I just finished fastening him up. Very well.’

Lady V walks towards me but i am still enthralled with the girl in the pillow case. A slap on the face with a leather gloved hand, gets my attention.

‘Right, worm. Listen. Any hint of resistance and you will miss out on what may well be a fantasy scenario for you, something akin to what you imagined you would experience on your first visit. I suggest you comply and enjoy. The alternative will involve my large friend over there and a visit to somewhere considerably less pleasant.’

‘Do you understand?’

‘Yes. Mis...., i cut off the forbidden phrase just in time.

‘You may call me ma’am. As yet you have no priveleges to address me by my name.’

No, and i bloody well never will either as i’m outta here once this is over.

The manacles are removed from my hands and feet and i am helped upright.

‘Walk over to your bitch in the corner there, face her and undress.’

‘Oh , come on...’

THWACK.

A line of pain shoots across the back of my thighs.

‘Be very careful what you say, this privilege can be rescinded as quickly as it was granted, now get over there and do as you are told.’

Madelaine, looks and a feint smile crosses her face.

I walk towards Gabrielle, holy shit. Faced with one of the most gorgeous looking girls in the office, no, anywhere actually, standing with her back to the corner, hands clasped behind her head, openly exposing her magnificent breasts. Large, firm, olive-skinned, huge dark aureoles and nipples you could hang a Stetson on. She is excited, her breathing is shallow and rapid. The closet pervs in the office would kill to have this view.

The long black dress that we had so admired is destroyed. I don’t much care.

‘Whenever you are ready, worm.’

Where to start. Embarassing undressing in front of anyone but someone you know. And have had fantasies about for months.

Dad’s advice. Never let a woman see you in socks and no pants. Shoes and socks first then. Put them to one side, neatly. Figure that will be expected.

‘Shirt, first’ A command from behind me. Mistress.

I pull off the tie, open the top three buttons and, as is my habit, pull the shirt over my head. Gabrielle stares at my chest. Thick collar round my neck with its tag, wrist cuffs and the new larger nipple rings exposed to her. No reaction.

Undo the belt, pull down my newly bought pants and fold them and place them in a pile with the shirt and shoes.

Just the undies then, will she react when she sees what is under there?

Off they come and i am left with nothing but the cuffs and collar and the chastity belt around my waist.

Gabrielle continues to stare, as if hypnotised.

‘I feel hands in the small of my back and the next thing the belt is loose.

‘Off with it.’

Blood is beginning to fill my cock, if i don’t get the piercing through the end soon i’ll never get it off. It is done.

‘Handle it.’

I reach down to my slowly engorging member.

‘Not you, idiot. Her!’ Mistress’s command snaps my hands behind my back.

Gabrielle’s hands come down from behind her head and she reaches out and cradles my cock in both hands, gently, oh so gently. Her eyes lock on mine and they do not flinch. Flinching is not my problem and my cock begins to fill and grow as she caresses it.

‘Get on your knees and suck it.’

Fucking hell. She is as well. I don’t believe this. Down she goes, my cock in her mouth, no movement of her tongue, she just envelopes it and draws it pretty deep. Deeper than necessary? A hint of a gag reflex?

‘Use her mouth, worm’

That does it. My cock is like a hammer-handle. Need no second invitation and i grab the back of her head and ram my cock into her throat. She swallows the lot. Feel her throat spasm as she struggles to stop herself gagging.

Press hard on her head but eventually lack of breath forces her to pull free. She gasps for air and a long string of saliva is coughed out from her lips. She looks up at me with those big, doe-like brown eyes pleading with me.

Her mascara has run as her eyes have watered. i ram it back in again and begin to fuck her face. No other word to describe what i am doing.

She is having a bad time. I have no mercy and am abusing her like no other woman i have ever been with. The more duress she is under the worse i get, i feel her hands on my thighs, trying to push me back but i am having none of it. i am going to cum.

THWACK.

THWACK.

THWACK.

‘Enough.’ Madelaine’s voice, not raised, just matter of fact as usual.

‘Fuuuuck’ i can’t help myself. The heavy cane across the backs of my, now exposed, thighs stops me in mid thrust.

Gabrielle falls to the floor, her face a mess, coughing and retching and tears streaming down her cheeks.

My cock begins to weaken as the pain in my thighs intensifies, i can’t help but rub them.

‘Worm, you are something of a revelation. I had you figured for a worthless submissive but you have surprised me.’

It’s hard to tell whether she is pleased or not.

‘V, we need to work on his pain reflex, when you hit him he should orgasm uncontrollably not pull away and go limp. Conditioning required, for sure.’

Madelaine turns to Gabrielle and says. ‘You. Bitch. Stop grovelling and get back in the corner with your hands behind your head.’

Gabrielle stands up and hurries back into the corner, her spectacular breasts are dripping with white goo and it appears she has actually vomited too. Her ruined dress is now stained and soiled. Her make-up is all over her face.

She looks fabulous.

46. Python

‘Worm, go over to the horse and lay on it, on your back’

I have been on this before I think. Not the most pleasant of memories.

Lay down, it’s only a foot or so wide so shoulders are unsupported. Backside too, almost hanging off the edge. Legs pulled back almost under me, arms the same, cuffs fastened with snap hooks to the legs of the horse. Leather on my back is cold at first.

‘Head back’

I comply and my head is fastened down at an uncomfortable angle with a strap across my neck.

‘Slave. Do your stuff. Make it good.’ Madelaine orders the elfin Emma and in a second I feel her hands on my chest. I cannot see her as she is between my legs, I can only see the painting of Mistress Madelaine. Upside down.

She manipulates my penis with, something, her hands i guess and in no time i am hard again.  Then she comes round to the head end, still in the shroud, she bends and kisses me on the mouth. i am lost. i love kissing, Deep,  sensual, slow, exploratory kissing. i could hold roofs up with my dick now it is so hard.

She breaks off the kiss. I moan in ecstasy, eyes closed.  A waft of air and i open my eyes to find she is naked.  I now see the studs in her hard nipples for the first time. They are like grommets. Hollow. Metal. Huge. Tiny tits but it matters not. She is tattooed with a giant python around her torso. Head looking at her pussy and body going over her shoulders and round her waist as if she is being squeezed.

More metal hangs from her pussy, the python’s tongue seems to be trying to flick the piercings. She turns and i see her arse. She bends and i see, inverted of course, her glorious backside, buttocks parted by a black plug, nestling against the huge rings impaling her inner and outer lips. The words, ‘Fuck Slut’ are tattooed across the small of her back and a stylised twin ‘ W’ logo nestles at the top of her crack, just by the tail of the python. ‘W’?  No, idiot, ‘M’, I am seeing everything upside down. Mistress Madelaine’s initials and ‘M’ is what they refer to her as. Is her name Emma, i really don’t know.

She is presented as a sex toy and that is what she becomes.

47. Endgame

My head is at the perfect height and perfect angle for her to straddle my face and i soon find my mouth covered in warm flesh flanked by cool metal. The rings are huge. Thick gauge, large diameter. Seems like there are dozens of them. My nose is squashed against the flanged base of the plug buried in her butt-hole. i need no telling to get working with my tongue and i quickly remember the ingenious device covering her clitoris preventing me from making direct contact with it.

Remember. She orgasms from pain not pleasure. Doesn’t stop her getting wet though. Face and lips are soaking now. The more excited she becomes the more she grinds down on my face flattening my nose. Hard to breathe. Head getting forced ever further back. i don’t care, her pussy smells fragrant. Remember it was anything but last time. So horny i feel like i might cum without even being touched.

Whack!

Fuck! I try to say it out loud but there is nowhere for the sound to come out.  My cock has just been smacked with something, right on the end. The still-healing PA catches it full on and hurts like abastard. Pillar to pasta in seconds, my stiffy recedes almost immediately as i struggle with the pain while trying to keep focussed on the task at hand…or mouth, actually.

‘Really disappointing how it responds to the crop. It is not a natural pain-slut, that’s for sure.’

Victoria and Madelaine discuss my predicament like i am some sort of lab animal.

‘How would you go about re-educating him?’ Funny how Victoria refers to me as a male, Madelaine always objectifies me as if i am sub-human.

‘I know exactly how to proceed, it responds to humiliation, combine it with some corrective actions and it will react differently over time. Association of the pleasant with what it believes to be unpleasant will blur the boundaries between the two and before long they will be one and the same emotion,’

‘We just need to add a little fear, for our benefit though.’

They both laugh, the first term there has been any joviality at all.

Meanwhile i am dying here. My neck is beginning to feel the strain of the un-natural posture and it seems there is no way that i can make her orgasm.

‘You. Bitch. Would you like to continue your task that was so rudely interrupted?’

You are kidding me?. Am I hearing this right? Now the luscious Gabrielle is going to blow me again, but this time by choice?

My head is pushed further down still. Obviously M is finding this horny too.

Never had two women. Performance anxiety too much. Her i am with one babe sat on my face and another about to swallow my cock. No anxiety. No expectation of performance, just pure pleasure, despite the neck beginning to rebel big time.

I feel the head of my penis warm as it is enveloped by…well, i hope, Gabby’s lips. No funny business going on like last time.

For what seems like forever, i am ‘subjected’ to a twin assault. i am told in no uncertain terms that i shall not orgasm until told to do so, the punishment is left unspecified but i do not intend to find out.

Gabrielle slowly works on my penis but she is not intending for me to cum, just keeping me erect and gradually building my excitement. I am in heaven.

‘Mr Curtis, I think you are due further payment. On you go.’

Within a second or two the style of Gabrielle’s ministrations change sharply. She is rocking about and far less subtle, almost as if she is not concentrating any more.

She isn’t.

She is getting fucked.

With no need for further invitation, Curtis has rolled up the tight skirt past Gabrielle’s waist and he has rammed himself, belly deep, in her sopping pussy, knickers pulled to one side. It would be considered forced sexual conduct had not its recipient obviously been loving every minute of it.

Inevitably her mouth slips off my cock as she succumbs to the force of Curtis’ thrusts. My member is left to rub up and down the side of her cheeks and in her hair. i am not complaining.

‘M’. meanwhile, is getting the full view of all of this and it becomes very obvious that it is not just pain that gets her off after all.

‘OHHHHH.’

My face is flooded as she orgasms in her own unique way. Feels like a bucket full of fluid. Runs up my nose, into my mouth, i cough and splutter and struggle to breathe.

‘Now you know what it feels like’ Gabrielle dares to speak but is not punished.

‘Indeed, bitch, that is close to what you felt, I shouldn’t wonder’. Madelaine is close by, no longer seated watching.

‘Perhaps we could further replicate the feeling.’

With that Madelaine hurries round the back of her slave girl. She comes into my inverted field of vision and speaks to her.

‘Move. Bend over.’

M obeys, of course, though she still appears in the throes of her climax.

‘Aggh, Mistress.’ M calls out in a wail.

Madelaine unceremoniously rips the plug out of her arsehole. Then jams it straight down my throat.

She brutally drives it into my gullet and after the third or fourth thrust i heave some snot-like fluid and it too ends up in my nose, further adding to my distress.

i find my head is free to move, the strap must have been removed or maybe it had been gone some time and was just M’s crotch holding my neck back. Not just that, Madelaine is actually holding my neck up now, I am also treated to the view of Gabrielle getting shagged stupid.

‘Now, my little worm, do you see what fun we have here. The pain and suffering is merely a part of it.  All kinds of experiences are shared. And you would consider leaving all this behind, forever?’

She almost whispers in my ear. I can barely cope with that either. Her breath excites me. Her smell excites me. Her light touch on my neck excites me.

As Curtis throws back his head and, judging by his face, shoots his load inside Gabrielle, her moaning excites me.

‘What would you give to be inside her next? Imagine how wet she will be, imagine all those times you have desired her at work, all the times you have fantasised about how she would look naked. How she would feel next to you. Whether she would be sluttish or prudish. What sort of noises she would make as you fucked her.’

‘Mistress, please, it is too much….’

‘Would she swallow your seed? Let you cum on her face? Would she let you fuck her in the ass? Who would believe she has gagged on your cock as you jammed it down her throat with those fabulous tits thrust against your thighs…...’

An imperceptible nod from her and Curtis picks Gabrielle up from behind by the thighs, her dress still up round her midriff.

‘…how else would you feel her dripping pussy thrust on your cock other than the fact that you are both here, under my command…..’

Curtis, seemingly effortlessly, lowers our erstwhile unapproachable receptionist onto my dick. She even reaches down to lift it off my belly.

‘….could you dream you would have her desperate to fill herself with you after being fucked by a black stud…..’

‘Mistress, i can’t stop mys…..’

Curtis lowers her further and I feel myself buried to the hilt in her pussy.

‘Will you leave here tonight giving all this up…’

‘No Mistress, i….’

‘…or will you give yourself up to experiences you never dreamed of?’

‘Yes, Mistress. Please, Mistress. Anything..’

‘Good, then give yourself up and cum in her now’

‘FUUUUUUUUUCK’  i roar like a beast.

The French refer to it as ‘Le Petit Mort’. The Little Death.

There was nothing little about it and i think i truly died. And went to heaven.

Spasm after spasm racks my body, my stomach muscles tense and relax as if i am hooked up to a Slender-tone machine. i shoot what feels like a lifetime’s worth of seed into her.

Curtis lifts her off me as easily as he lifted her on. Deposits her on a chair, legs spread wide, head back, eyes firmly closed. Slave M is between her thighs lapping up our combined juices like she is eating a five star lunch, She is truly a slut.

‘So you are ready to graduate from being a worm? Is this what you expected when you first entered my door those few days ago?’

‘Your Dream Date with a Dominatrix?

‘Yes, Mistress.’

i am still in the aftermath of my uber-gasm.

‘Then you give yourself over to me as what? My toy? Or my live in slave-boy?’

‘Mistress, i cannot live with you permanently, i have a wife..a job…’

‘Very well. My toy then. So be it’

She then slaps my face so hard, I think she’s broken my jaw.

‘Never , ever, say Yes Mistress to me again.’