Mistress
Ruben & Mistress Charlotte are in the main dungeon facing
each other smiling wickedly as they await for the arrival of
the slave the receptionist is about to bring to them. The Slave
unfortunately has never had the pleasure in meeting these two
lovely ladies in person. He organised his session via the phone
requesting a "no-mercy" session - leaving it up to
the Mistresses to decide his fate. They have instructed Helen
the receptionist to prepare the slave before he graces their
presence. 
He is to be naked, his hands should be tied behind
his back and
he will wear a blindfold. In the final minutes of the slave's
preparation, Helen gives the slave a fearful but compassionate
look before she blindfolds him, as she knows only too well what
this poor man is about to endure. She instructs him to walk slowing
behind her as she leads him towards the main dungeon, the slave
follows obligingly, transfixed by the smell of her sweet feminine
perfume. His journey with Helen is almost over now as his finds
himself standing still and hears her knocking on the door. He
does not hear a response buts feels himself being pulled along
by the leash, followed by the softly spoken voice of one the
Mistresses that said "Thank you Helen, that will be all
for now."
Immediately Mistress Ruben and Mistress Charlotte walk towards
the slave. Mistress Ruben faces him and Mistress Charlotte stands
behind him. Once again he hears that soft seductive voice. "Lets
begin with a through inspection shall we?" Then another
voice a little stronger yet equally seductive "Yes lets
find where this slaves potential truly lies."
For brief moment the slave feels warmly safe and secure as both
Mistresses begin their examination. No hands of course. The slave
hasn't done anything to deserve the gift of touch. A riding crop
directs the slave into position. Various probes enter the already
dribbling orifices. A lash brings the penis erect until the motions
of the slave's body indicate it's eagerness for more. Humiliation
is the language all slaves understand. What this slave is about
to learn is how penetrating the spoken word alone can be. As
the ego is stripped slowly away the real fibre of the slave is
exposed. It's needs driving it further and further into the web
these two vixens weave.  The
click of their stilettos is the only reward as the two work together
as one, building the need to a craving as the slave is stretched
to it's limits, straining under the tension of rope and chain.
Fingernails give way to clamps and the burn of the whip as the
Mistresses work the way through the evil array of tools at their
disposal. Imagination gives way to reality as the slave is pushed
further and harder than fantasy had initially elected in this
wretches limited imaginings.
"Mercy? Did you hear something Mistress?" Another red
hot line is traced across the soft skin of the exposed arse.
 Begging is an art and these two
consider themselves artists. Sincerity is sometimes hard to fine
in cold and unfamiliar surroundings such as these but as always
it finally finds voice. Pride may be wounded, a bruised and battered
body may be the price of discovery, but release is not a consideration
until the slave's cock gives in. It drives this meeting. It gives
permission and says when and enough. Laughter fills the slaves
ears. "Why did I come here? God no, Christ yes." And
on and on. The game that was his belongs to them. These minutes
endured became hours and then days in a slave's mind until the
Mistresses become a part of every thought. Familiarity takes
the edge off the stinging reality of the scourge these two unleash.
"Perhaps another visit. Why not? After all it 's not real.
Is it?" |
