SlavesofMistressDespoiler (18 page)

Again the other thigh was swatted and the blow repeated on other side a moment later.

“Mistress! Mercy! Please!” pled Lynn.

“Why are you being punished, slave?” asked the Mistress. Reaching in, she pinched the battered buttocks of the woman, making her voice high-pitched and swift in response.

“Because I disobeyed you, Mistress!”

“Then one more stroke and we will consider you punished in full, slave.”

“Yes, Mistress,” she replied dejectedly, and sighed as the pinch of flesh was released.

A short pause followed where Lynn braced herself for the stroke but had no idea where or when it would fall.

The Mistress waggled the weapon in the air, its head humming as she limbered up the implement for the final deed. Then the crop struck flat across her buttocks and held there, pressing to the flesh it had struck, the welt crossing the lines of the cane. Lynn wailed softly, swallowing a scream and turning it into mewls and gurgles of distress. Her legs shook beneath her and she swayed unsteadily for a few moments.

“There, now what do you say, slave?”

“Th…thank…thank you, Mistress,” she stammered.

“Good girl,” answered the dominatrix.

Lynn sunk down and placed a kiss to the presented tip of the item that had been responsible for her pains.

“Now, slave, get on with what I told you to do, before I whip you some more for tardiness,” she decreed. Slumping down into the couch she watched her adoring property as she started to cleanse and reapply her makeup.

Once she had finished, the Mistress called her over and snapped the leash to her collar. After capturing the slave on the reign she hauled her in so that she knelt before her.

“Turn around and get on all fours before me, slave,” she ordered.

Lynn instantly revolved and presented her rear to the Mistress. The feet of the dominatrix settled along her back, using her as a stool upon which to rest.

Lynn shivered as she felt the bare skin of her owner’s calves upon her own flesh. She found new satisfaction in her lowly position and was swiftly dreaming of running her hands along the legs that so casually rested on her.

A few minutes of lethargy passed before she felt the back of her thong being pulled down and once more exposing her rear.

“Such a hungry little mouth,” announced the Mistress, running a finger down the presented valley. “Would my slave like something to fill this hole?”

Patting it with a fingertip, Mistress Despoiler circled the opening in contemplation.

“Yes, Mistress,” petitioned Lynn. She was eager to feel the intrusion of another toy and feel the Mistress fill her with an implement and control her with it.

“Then let’s have you plugged up before we continue then, slave,” she stated.

Lynn felt the cool rounded tip of a lubricated toy replace the fingers of her owner.

The point pushed forwards, opening her wider, then wider still. Her sphincter started to hurt from the level of intrusion, the flared cone pushing her to her tolerances.

“Mistress! It…it’s too big!” she murmured. Her hands furled into tight fists, her rear feeling as if it would tear open if the Mistress pushed the plug any deeper.

“Nonsense,” stated the Mistress and shoved ruthlessly to instantly complete the task.

The sudden screaming blast of havoc that poured into her rear had Lynn collapsing onto her side, arching back and clasping at the butt plug. She aired peaks of shock and whimpered as she hooked fingers to the base and pulled. The pain was already dwindling and she realised that to pull it free she would have to voluntarily inflict the same ordeal as she had just been dragged through. A pull to the base stretched her again, cultivating a rise in discomfort. It made her let go and simply hold to herself, feeling the fulgent rawness of her rear slowly subside.

“There, now you are all nice and full, slave,” she remarked and pulled up the thong before patting Lynn’s rump with a sense of occasion and completion.

“Now, up you get, we have other matters to attend to,” she ordered and drifted back into the luxurious softness of the couch.

Lynn stiffly arose, her anus full of feeling. The presence of the plug within her was strangely stimulating. It made her feel more submissive, as though even her insides were no longer her own, and that with this mere insertion she had been further branded as property.

Clenching her buttocks she assured herself of its presence and waited as the Mistress arose and pulled an armchair out further from the wall to create a moat of space around it.

“Have a seat, slave. We are going to continue your education,” she stated, and indicated the leather cushions with a gentle wave of her hand.

Lynn wandered over and sat down. The seat was soft but still served to push the plug a little deeper into her.

“Now stay still and just relax, slave.”

Taking the rope the Mistress began to apply it, using the coils to capture her shackles and fix her to the chair. Her legs were splayed wide and the lengths were wound around her knees, above and below to keep her splayed lewdly under the eyes of the Mistress. Her arms were draped over the back and dragged down. The manacles were fixed there, stopping her from moving. Hoops about her upper thighs and waist were used as anchors to drag her down and into the chair. Able to pass between the cushions and sneak through the wooden frame they stopped her lifting up and pinned her irrevocably in this position.

Finally, her plait was captured and pulled back to lift her face to the ceiling. Fastened with a knot, the bond held her hair and prevented her from even looking down.

The Mistress arose behind her, extending into her enforced line of sight. A smirk of glee tickled her face as she looked down on Lynn—the slave languishing in bondage.

“Is my slave all nice and secure?”

“Yes, Mistress,” she replied, pulling slightly against her restraints to feel her helplessness and delight in it.

“Good.”

Lowering a little, the lips of the Mistress brushed Lynn’s cheek and she felt fingers reach under her bra and pinch a nipple. Lynn’s respiration started to accelerate, the compression getting stronger and making the discomfort steadily well.

“Oh! Oh! Oh, Mistress,” she whimpered. The woman was turning the captured teat, pulling at it and installing new and vigorous duress.

“Yes, slave? You like this? Perhaps you want some more?” she offered genially.

“Yes, Mistress. Yes, please, Mistress,” she panted, eager for more torment. Lynn yearned to be subjected to the whimsical sadism of the Mistress and to have her body used as a device for pleasuring her owner with its rope-contained writhing.

Another hand glided over the back of the chair and slid down her neck. Moving across her chest and into the other cup, the Mistress snagged the other nipple and treated it to a similar ordeal.

Lynn jiggled in her bonds. Her mouth was agape as she felt the soft breath of the Mistress on her neck, tickling the fine hairs.

“Look at you. Like a little worm in my fingers. Wriggling impotently. You’re such a promiscuous little thing, slave. All eager and ready for anything I want. Is that not so, slave?” she whispered softly into her ear as Lynn’s breasts were erotically tormented for her entertainment.

“Oh, yes Mistress. I’m yours. I’ll do anything for you.”

“Will you willingly be tortured for my pleasure? Will you surrender to pegs and wax, clamps and bondage? Just to amuse me,” she asked seductively. Drawing out the nipples she made Lynn’s chest rise and fall with great sobbing gasps.

“Yes, yes, anything, Mistress!”

“You think you can keep quiet. Or should I plug this hole too?” she offered, kissing the corner of her agape mouth.

“Gag me, Mistress. Please. I don’t want to fail you, Mistress,” she gasped, the potent need to curl her tongue against her owner’s flashing through her like libidinous wildfire.

No sooner had the words slipped free of her lips than a hand deserted her breast and began to force a set of tights into her maw. The hose of Mistress Despoiler was immediately crammed in, filling her mouth and squashing her tongue beneath the well-worn garments. Lynn surged against her bonds with piqued arousal at the sensation of being so meticulously tyrannised.

Once it was fully in, the rip of duct tape sounded and a strip was pressed across her sealed lips. Trapping the garment within her mouth the tape stopped her ejecting it and left her wheezing through her nostrils. Lynn watched as the Mistress lovingly stroked her cheek for a moment and then moved away. The click of heels told Lynn that she was now before her and settling between her parted legs. Suddenly she felt pangs of jeopardy rise as she blankly regarded the dark ceiling with breaths hissing through her nostrils.

Her bra was opened and removed. A cool wash of feeling reached across her breasts as they were left on open display, thrust out by the position in which she had been bound. Their was a little niggle of embarrassment, but she was rapidly becoming aware of her status as a slave to the Mistress and thus she should no longer be afraid of openly showing that which she did not even really own.

A hoop of cord was threaded around the base of her breast and the pert flesh was suddenly being strangled at the root by a tight bond. The act forced it to swell forward as it became engorged with harrowing dignity.

The other breast was similarly bound, the replacing bra of thin strands making Lynn grumble and twitch. A clatter of wood on wood reached her ears while she tasted the nylon in her mouth. The intimate garment of the Mistress was greatly prized for this reason and as she dreamed of tasting the source of the tang she awaited her next delicious ordeal.

The teeth of a peg took up a morsel of flesh on her breast and held firmly to it. With a whimper she accepted another and another, the Mistress applying an arsenal of the instruments to her assets. Soon, bristling arrays of wooden spires were clutching fervently to her skin. Lynn mewled and strained against her bonds, the palpitating effects being added to with each new peg that decorated her flesh.

Once a full measure had been set across her breasts, a final peg served to cap each. The acts of having her nipples squeezed in merciless springed grips were the worst, and were enhanced by the bondage that strangled her assets.

Lynn thought perhaps that this was the end of the deed but then she felt the Mistress tracing a new peg along her inner thigh. The flesh was still marked with the rectangular marks from the crop and was clearly going to be even more sensitive than usual. Her flesh shivered in fright and then tensed as the first peg was clamped into place. Another joined it and another, forming a row that started half way down her thigh and then reached almost to her pussy

Lynn snorted through her nose, her eyes filling with new tears as she stared dejectedly to the ceiling. She was unable to look at her adored abuser or move in the slightest to protect herself. She felt the other thigh being similarly adorned. The applications made her feel as though there were nothing else to her body other than breasts and thighs. All other feeling was as nothing compared to these areas of concentrated and intense sensation.

Hands started to wander upon her, appraising her flesh, running along her bound and stocking-coated legs and then tracing her underwear. It was a wonderful sensuous touch and a moment of extreme glory for Lynn. To be bound and punished by a woman she adored was exhilarating, and now to have her body subjected to such exploration as though she were nothing more than a trinket took her delectation even higher.

To be owned was so wonderfully reassuring. It soothed her to know that she was bound to another’s will, that she was to be cared for and subjected to the commands of someone else, someone she considered superior. The Mistress was more stable than she and was more capable. The Mistress was a person at ease with herself and with what she wanted, unbound by all problems. It was these very traits that had seduced her male partner and had made Lynn seek to befriend her. Yet these very same traits had also been the undoing of them all, charming them both and then enslaving them to the will of this woman.

Lynn knew full well that she was a mess within. She was riven with doubts, deprived of self-esteem and worth by a series of disastrous relationships that she herself had generally screwed up. Her life seemed meaningless, pointless, a wreck that only served to support the petty dramas and private tragedies of others. She was always there for everyone, always the shoulder to cry on. She was the saviour to run to assist anyone, even when she knew their problem was fictitious and created to gain attention and prop up their ego. She was there for everyone but until now no one had ever been there for her, truly for her.

Now she had control over someone. There was a male she could make suffer, to torture and have adore her like a goddess. Never letting him touch the physique he would worship, she could deny and deprive and always hang a succulent blackmail chip over his head, a sword of Damocles ready to strike and shatter his existence.

This in itself would have been perfect, but then true perfection had arrived. The Mistress cared for her, wanted her, wanted to take the time and effort to train her to be hers. Of all the people out there she could have chosen and who would have even paid for her attentions with alacrity, Mistress Despoiler had chosen to undertake Lynn’s education. Of all the more experienced and more sterling and profitable slaves that a Mistress such as she could instantly entrance, Lynn’s ownership had taken priority. She was sacrificing time and great effort to ensure Lynn became her property in full, to stay with her for good. Lynn no longer had to think and brood on her mistakes for they would be corrected instantly by the vengeful owner of her body and mind. She could now be there for no one else, she was sealed off from her own weaknesses. She was only there for the Mistress and the Mistress was as genuine as she was beautiful and skilful in her art.