The whip slapped across everywhere that the wax had fallen. The repeated strokes pulled away the last fragments and the loose particles of wax, and once Samantha was totally cleared, the Mistress flogged her some more just for her own amusement. The slight distress of the initial strokes started to rise to less easily enjoyed levels when her skin grew more sensitive to the steady application of the whip.
The woman stopped and hung the whip back up on the wall. Samantha slowed her racing breath and relaxed into the stringent arms of her bondage. She wondered what other bizarre events Mistress Carol would set loose on her.
The dominatrix looked into the cabinets and cupboards, seeking inspiration. Samantha turned her head aside and stared at the woman’s body with a libidinous thirst. The Lycra skin shimmered and the plastic skin yearned to be licked and caressed. The cruelty of the woman made her so unattainable and now Samantha’s desire to hold her, kiss her, service her was at a frenzied peak. Mistress Carol had set herself up as a goddess of pain and barbarity, one that required her subjects bound and defenceless. It transformed her into an even more desirable object of worship.
“Now I hear you used to be a prostitute. Is that true, slave?” she asked as she opened another cabinet and failed to find something to please her.
“Erm... I...” said Samantha.
She did not know what to say. What was the woman intending? Why was she asking and what would be the ramifications from her answers?
Whatever it was that Samantha said, it would no doubt affect what Mistress Carol was going to do to her. It was scary to think that the next words from her lips would either bring pleasure or levels of pain even more unendurable than those experienced thus far.
The woman paused and seemed to tense with irritation.
“Answer me, slave. I want to hear what you used to be,” she snapped with her back still presented to Samantha. Samantha chose to be blunt and crude with her reply.
“I... I was a whore, Mistress.”
“Ha! I knew it!” She chuckled.
Mistress Carol looked over the contents several more times then finally spied something worthy of her sadistic urges. She grabbed it and wandered around the table.
“Eyes closed, slave!” she warned.
Samantha complied and listened to the sound of buckles being fastened and the soft steady clack of the woman’s dagger heels. It was difficult to keep her eyelids shut. The need to gain some insight into what was occurring and what was going to be done to her was near irresistible. Mistress Carol had to have known this, and was again testing her. She was seeing just how far she could push Samantha before she snapped and earned herself more discipline on top of what was already preordained for Mistress Carol’s grim and debauched entertainment.
The temptation to peek grew to even more pressing levels when she heard the woman hoisting herself up onto the table top. The crafty creak of vinyl upon the lithe feminine physique drew closer to her face and she felt the woman’s fingers sink into her hair.
“Okay, slave. You can look now,” said the woman with a viperous edge to her voice.
Samantha flicked up her lids and saw the woman looming over her. Mistress Carol’s thighs were parted across her chest and a harness of leather held a replica phallus. The bright red manhood jutted from her crotch and was formed of pliant but solid latex. It bobbed slightly from side-to-side with the minor motions of the woman, then the tip moved forward to prod her lips.
“Come on, suck it! I want to see how you handled the real thing!” she commanded.
Samantha parted her jaws and the toy rushed in. She locked her lips to it and began to conduct fellatio on the toy. The dominatrix kept the grip on her hair light so that her head could still move while gaining a little support from the grip. The awkward pose made it difficult but Samantha was wholly committed to the desires of the dominant. She hauled at it as best she could and her neck instantly started to ache from the demands placed upon it.
The image of the Mistress in front of her eyes with her Lycra and vinyl-clad pussy so close to Samantha’s tongue, quickly had her finding a stern delectation in the deed. Her oral attention became correspondingly more passionate.
“Such a diligent little sucker,” reported the woman.
Mistress Carol pulled back a little so that only the last portion of the artificial cock was in Samantha’s mouth.
“That’s it, now tickle the tip,” she commanded.
Samantha stretched her jaws apart and let her tongue flow forward and dance around the head of the toy. She curled it around and flitted tip-to-tip. Mistress Carol watched the show for a moment then plunged back in to make Samantha continue her sucking devotions.
“Very entertaining,” said the woman with a beaming grin of delight.
Releasing Samantha’s hair, Mistress Carol shifted back and removed herself from the table. Still wearing the shaft, she proceeded to the cabinets to retrieve a new chapter in Samantha’s education.
“I think it’s time for a farewell gift, slave,” she decreed.
Samantha was glad that the session was finally coming to an end. The sooner it ended, the sooner she could get back to Lady Morgana. The session with Mistress Carol would be better once she had mulled it over in fantasy, perhaps while using it as a stimulus when next she had the chance to slyly masturbate.
The sight of a large anal bead in one of Mistress Carol’s hands and a tube of lubricant in the other made Samantha’s heart sink as she realised that there was not going to be an easy or swift end to her ordeal here.
Opening the tube, Mistress Carol squeezed a generous measure onto the orb. Samantha could now see that the ball was covered in tiny nodules. It was definitely not like any other bead that she had seen before. The soft bell chimes from within the ball as it moved proved that it was simply a dog chew toy that was being used as a particularly extreme form of anal bead.
Mistress Carol produced a set of surgical gloves and snapped the thin latex sheaths over her other ones. She drooled a significant measure of viscous lubricant onto the forefinger of her left hand then rudely inserted it into Samantha’s anus. The sudden entry and the cool lube made her cavort and release a sultry croak of shocked pleasure.
Mistress Carol moved the digit back and forth, spreading the translucent gel thoroughly through and around Samantha’s anus. The woman then poured another large measure onto the ball then leant it to Samantha’s rear. Samantha felt the tiny nubs graze her sphincter then Mistress Carol started to apply more force. Rocking the ball against Samantha’s opening, she began to loosen the orifice as Samantha tried to stay as calm and relaxed as possible.
“Come on, slave. Take it! I want to see this vanish into this cute ass!” she demanded, then started to work the orb with more intent. She pushed with relentless force until the opening resisted and Samantha gave a whimper of discomfort. The woman then let the orb ride back and the harried sphincter gain a moments respite before the lesson was repeated.
Each time the ball thrust against her and demanded entry her anus became a little more dilated. Samantha tried to take more of it each time, to end the process, but the peak of stress that it took her to always encouraged sounds of disapproval. The dominatrix would then permit it to ride back before repeating the driving assault.
The widest part of the ball was soon reached as Samantha whimpered and endured the slight scratching influence of the bloated sphere. The woman pushed onward and had the ball cruise into Samantha’s rear. She arched up and squalled in stunned shock as it choked her insides. In panic, she tried to regurgitate the ball. Her sphincter had been taught to accept the passage of the ball through repetitive sessions of penetration, but now that she had gulped it in, her internal tracts were far less accepting of its existence within her.
Mistress Carol let her start to expel the ball then pressed her fingers to the emerging surface. With a soft giggle, she drove it back into Samantha’s startled insides.
“No you don
’t. That’s staying in there, slave,” she stated as she ensured that Samantha kept the ball and got used to its presence.
Her insides settled and begrudgingly retained the intruder. Samantha started to relax as it slithered deep into her rear and nestled comfortably away from her throbbing sphincter.
Mistress Carol began to unfasten the restraints then let Samantha’s legs down. Samantha was then left to work her way through the flash floods of crippling pins and needles. In the meantime, Mistress Carol retrieved the inflatable hood and squeezed all the air out of it so she could re-smother Samantha’s head.
Samantha accepted the helmet without complaint or resistance. The zip was closed and the laces were set in place. The hood was again inflated to a crushing degree and the woman drew her back onto her feet.
Samantha wobbled on her heels as she tried to regain her balance. The ball shifted down and started to press against her opening. The bruised orifice had again forgotten the education in dilation and the flare of discomfort its attempted emergence caused had her gulp it back up into her. Until her rear had stopped aching so much, any attempt to eject the ball would be highly distressing.
The cuffs were locked back to her arms to deprive her of their use and Mistress Carol pushed her down onto her knees. The cups of her bra were lifted back into position and her underwear was straightened before her skirt was pulled back down to conceal the torn tights. The chain that had held the clamps was snapped to the front of the collar portion of the hood. The other end was threaded through an eyelet on the table and fed back to the D ring before being locked there. With her arms captive there was no hope of performing the relatively simple feat of opening a clip so she could move away. It was a futile wish anyway because blinded and smothered in the hood, where could she go?
“That was a lot of fun, slave. You suffer wonderfully and I think I’ll definitely have to borrow you again when I’m next in town. You did Lady Morgana proud... this time. Next time though, I’ll really have to see if I can break that lustful tolerance of yours,” threatened the Mistress as she reassuringly patted Samantha’s swollen hood.
Samantha wilted with dread at the prospect of even worse sessions with the woman. However, there was the exciting prospect of seeing just how far she could go, and what new regions of experience waited for her. She wondered what plateau’s of sensation she could be driven too, the places that few other human beings had ever even ventured toward.
“So until next time, slave,” she said, and the sound of her measured stride faded then vanished as Mistress Carol nonchalantly deserted Samantha.
Chapter Twelve
Samantha waited and spent the time going through the various parts of her encounter with Mistress Carol. Already they were becoming arousing licentious memories, especially with the discreet swelling presence of the ball loitering in her anus.
Footsteps returned to her side and she was helped to her feet and again escorted back out. There was no discussion or word from the person. Samantha was left wondering as to who it was leading her away from the medical playroom—Tom, Thumper, Tobin, or her owner.
Samantha wandered onto soft carpet and was again brought back down onto her knees. The helmet was deflated and removed, the cuffs were taken away, and Samantha found herself in the central area of a lounge with large comfortable armchairs and a long sofa. An entertainment centre bore some strange crystal sculptures, a large television, and an extensive stereo system. There was a raging fireplace that sent dancing fields of light across the whole room and made it even more inviting and cosy. The crystal impressions caught this light and refracted it through their interior. It made them seem incandescent in nature and their fabric to dance like jagged petrified flames.
Tom and Thumper were stood on either side of her. The powerful women were naked save for latex stockings and opera gloves. The sheaths were polished to a gleaming sheen of moulded jet and each of them stood on stiletto-heeled court shoes. Their collars sparkled in the light and each had several fading welts criss-crossing their buttocks.
Across the room in one of the armchairs was Lady Morgana. She was dressed in a provocative outfit that had Samantha melting inside at the sight of it and which had clearly influenced the choice of attire for her other slaves. Morgana had donned latex stockings and opera gloves that had been polished to a brilliant dark purple shine. She wore patent black court shoes with a wicked heel and a slender thong of jet rubber that was the only other piece of clothing adorning her elegant physique. Her bare breasts were on full display and tantalised Samantha’s eyes by being so brazenly offered and so easy to make contact with.
At the side of the chair was a tight black box that allowed a leather-hooded head to emerge. Some glasses surrounded the cocooned cranium, as well as a plate of snacks, some other trinkets, and several remote controls. Tobin’s breath emerged through two nostril holes and she could see a small circle of pinprick dots over each eye that offered him restricted sight.
“Come here, slave,” she said softly.
Samantha remained on her knees and chose to crawl over on all fours. The sight of her willingly wiggling over made Lady Morgana’s eyes sparkle with intrigue.
When Samantha arrived, Morgana patted her thighs and encouraged her to lay her head there. Latex-smothered fingers then started to brush through her hair a moment later.
Samantha looked out to see the lesbian slaves standing like sentinels in their same position. Neither moved, and they simply watched with intensity, their eyes and rubber skin glittering with reflections of the fire.
“So how was your time with Mistress Carol, slave?” asked her owner.
“She was very harsh on me, Lady Morgana,” she answered honestly.
“I told you that she’s a sadist, slave.”
“I know, Lady Morgana.”
“Did you please her?”
“I... I think so, Lady Morgana,” replied Samantha.
She really had no idea whether she had truly brought the woman pleasure because everything had revolved around her anguish. The final protestation at the end of the session was all she had to suggest that she had not failed her owner. With Mistress Carol’s penchant for mental, as well as physical distress, Samantha could not discount the possibility that she had lied so she could complain about Samantha later and have her caught unaware by Morgana’s retribution.
“Well, that dazed look and all those welts certainly imply that she took her fill of you, slave. What did she do?” enquired Lady Morgana.
“She caned me a lot, Lady Morgana. There were a lot of pegs used on me. On every part of me,” she said.
The recall of the most virulent applications leapt up through her memory and brought a sympathetic shudder.
“What else?”
“Candle wax, ice cubes, clamps, and she... inserted a really knobbly ball into me,” uttered Samantha.
“It’s still in there?” asked Lady Morgana, and paused in her soothing attentions.
“Yes, Lady Morgana, I... I haven’t had a chance to try and get it out of me.”
“Well, let’s have you do that now. You can hold onto me for strength if you wish, slave,” she offered with a spry grin.
Lady Morgana stood up and drew Samantha in so that she could embrace the hips of her owner. Samantha laid her face against her stomach and braced to eject the ball.
Relaxing her insides, she started to try to ease the sphere back out. It took a short time just to bring it against her sphincter. Once it was there, she started to strain and began to try to excrete the monstrous implement.
“Ooooh! Oh! It’s so big!” she exclaimed as the first portion of the ball stretched her rear more than she could handle. A swift clench gulped it back and the feel of it riding in made her clutch to her owner all the tighter.
“Come on, you can do it, slave,” purred Lady Morgana.
Samantha again levied her muscles against the trespasser. The ball leant itself to her rear and began its eme
rgence.
“I... I... oh... Ow! I can’t!” she protested and again swallowed the ball. Her insides wanted it out, but it was too difficult to stretch her rear and expel the source of her discomfort.
“Keep trying, slave. Take your time. I don’t want you hurting yourself.”
“Yes, Lady Morgana,” she uttered.
Closing her eyes, Samantha savoured the feel of her owner. Holding to her for the power to persevere, she tried again and again and each time, she got a little closer to reaching the broadest part of the ball. She was winning her fight against it.
“Carol was very cruel wasn’t she, slave?” said her owner.
“Oh yes, Lady Morgana. Oh. This is soooo hard to do.”
“Then you’ll have to be extra good or otherwise I might send you back to her for a whole weekend, slave,” lightly confessed Lady Morgana.
“Please, no, don’t. I couldn’t bear that, Lady Morgana. I doubt I could survive it again.”
“Oh I think you’re a lot tougher than you think. But for now, I’ll deny her another chance to work on you. Although you had better remember how generous and benevolent I am.”
“Yes, Lady Morgana. You are the best. I love you so much,” she blurted as the ball again punished her sphincter and made her snatch it back in.
“Good slave. Now come on, get back to work.”
Samantha continued with her mission. Her rear shivered and her hindquarters swayed from side-to-side as she fought to get the ball out. Several more times it got to the point of exit and her endurance snapped. Despite her commitment to spitting it out, it kept slipping back into her warm and inviting tracts.
Morgana’s hand closed into her hair and pulled Samantha’s face off her body. Dragging back, she made her slave look up across her salacious torso. Despite the succulent visual feast, Samantha’s eyes remained half shut with delirium because of the struggle against the internal enemy.
Executive Enslavement Page 19
