SlavesofMistressDespoiler (23 page)

He couldn’t act, he couldn’t warn his Mistress of the danger the treacherous Lynn presented. The blackmail tape would ruin everything just as effectively as if Lynn dumped the Mistress after a torrid liaison.

“Lay down on the floor, slave,” she said softly into Lynn’s ear, pulling back from their exchange and stepping off the chair.

Lynn forced herself up, the corset hampering her rise. Sinking down onto her knees, she lowered herself in full and rolled onto her back. The Mistress looming over her as a skyscraper of rubber, mesh and sultry flesh.

“Keep masturbating, slave,” she warned, looking up at the other servile before returning her gaze down to the slave sprawled at her feet.

Turning around, she placed her boots on either side of Lynn’s head and started to lower. Lynn’s eyes widened with astonishment to fill her mind with the view of the descending latex-coated rear. Hands took her wrists and placed them down her sides and the Mistress sat fully down onto her chest. Her glorious rump crushed Lynn’s breasts, stifling her breath as each inhale and exhale were forced to combat the weight of her owner.

The booted shins of the Mistress clamped inward like a vice, keeping her arms to her sides. Trapped completely, Lynn was left staring into the rear of the woman and her fishnet-cocooned back.

The Mistress draped herself forward and peeled back the flared curtain of Lynn’s skirt to reveal a dark cotton thong.

“Wearing underwear again, huh slave? Such a bad little thing. I can see you’ll need extra special discipline to bring you into line,” she purred.

Grabbing the front of the underwear she pulled at it and caused the slender strip between her rear to grind the plug deeper. A barbarous wrench brought the sharp rip of fabrics and snapped the thong against Lynn’s flesh. The shock of pain from the effects passed as the underwear was torn from her with one vicious yank.

The Mistress leant back and presented it to her lips. Lynn could smell her own arousal upon it. The scent had been brought from the dominating of the slave and then of herself. Her head swung from side to side, trying to avoid it.

“Please, Mistress, I can’t, I-mmmph.”

Her protests were silenced as the opening of her maw was exploited so that the garment could be stuffed in. The Mistress pushed it deep, making her gag before the fingers withdrew and she could push it forward to a more comfortable position.

“Now you keep that there, slave. Or I’ll fill you with it,” she promised and slapped a hand to Lynn’s sex, the spank making her choke a cry through the torn and pungent rag.

Chewing on her own thong, Lynn watched as the Mistress returned to her previous position. She was poised over Lynn’s helpless abdomen, her most intimate zones arrayed before her as a platter upon which any dish of pain or pleasure could easily be served.

After playfully snapping a suspender, she let her fingers ferret out the plug. Lynn’s legs spread wide in acceptance. A pull started the process of extraction and Lynn unleashed a murmur as she was stretched once more. The widest point of the cone beckoned and she tensed her arms, panting, her rear lighting up with lucid heat. The Mistress drew it onwards, bringing her almost to the point of freedom and then let it fall back in, gobbled up by the hungry orifice. The slide of it back into her made Lynn arch up and lift the Mistress a little. A wild gasp slipped over her lips and her eyes rolled back with pleasure at the sensation.

Again the Mistress took hold of it, drawing it almost to the point of escape before making her guzzle the wide trespasser. Again she sobbed her delight, and once more the Mistress repeated the process, teasing her slave with the plug and tickling her rear. When the plug was next on the verge of flight, Lynn brought her own internal muscles into play and with a strain spat the object out.

“Oh, bad girl,” commented the Mistress with a merry giggle.

Gripping the base, she put the tip back to Lynn’s rear, letting the woman tense her barricades and try to resist. She knew full well that she would be defeated but it was this very consequence that she was seeking.

A remorseless and steady shove started to open her and the plug was slotted back in. Lynn threw open her mouth to set free a croaking cry of violated bliss. The thong muffled the sound a little but failed to fully hide it.

The cry became a shriek as the plug was rudely tugged out and she jolted against the imprisoning physique of the Mistress as it was slammed back into place once more. Funded by a wail the thong came free. The material was sodden with sweat. Lynn sagged, panting, her rear flickering with residual flares of feeling and yet a smile was still stretched all the way across her lips.

“I warned you, slave. Did I not?” came a soft imprecation, and she realised that in her distress she had spat out the makeshift gag.

“Mistress, please, I didn’t mean to. It was an accident,” she implored, straining her head forward, trying to gobble up the garment again, the taste of herself still strong in her mouth.

“Too late for that, my girl,” she chuckled.

The Mistress pulled the thong away from Lynn’s lips as they brushed it during her attempts to try and acquire it and prevent the sentence she had been promised. The Mistress towed it along Lynn’s sex. The cool spit upon her hot pussy made her shudder and stiffen in anticipation of what was to follow.

“Mistress, pleeeease,” she sobbed with fright.

“You did something wrong, slave. You have to be punished for it. You have to learn. Don’t you agree, slave?” she stated by way an explanation.

“Yes, Mistress,” said Lynn who was resigned, scared and titillated all at once.

“Then ask for it. Ask me to correct your ways, slave.”

“Please, Mistress, I’ve been bad,” she stated.

“What did you do, slave?” the Mistress encouraged, drawing the thong back and forth across Lynn’s splayed legs.

“I spat out the gag when you told me not to, Mistress,” she said. The feel of the thong as it travelled across her was rousing her lust and feeding her submission. More than ever she wanted to be punished for her failings.

“And what did I say you would have done to you if you did that, slave? What was the consequence of the very action I warned you against but which you did anyway?”

“You would insert it into me, Mistress,” she hissed, anxious to feel the Mistress force it into her, to justly violate her with her own underwear. Her loins were growing humid as the concept dripped like honey into her mind, surging around her debauchery and making her yearn for the sterling control of the Mistress. The drop from dominance to total submission was a huge alteration of roles and the extremity of such a transformation had thrown her even deeper into brazen masochistic servitude and adoration.

“So what do you want done to you now. To show you the error of your ways, slave?”

“Please, Mistress, stuff me with the gag, Mistress,” she asked, her words uneven as she squirmed wantonly beneath the Mistress.

“Very well, slave,” she agreed.

The thong remained where it was for a moment and then the thumb of the Mistress began to force it in. Lynn squeaked and choked her wails, for even though it was wet with sweat, the material was abrasive and grated its way in. The material chafed against her tender membranes and roused clit. It was a discomfort and an exquisite rhapsody that made her quake with the intensity of the experience. Lynn’s cries were as much from pleasure as from discomfort.

After rudely stuffing her slave, the Mistress ensured that the whole thing was jammed in before leaning back and putting a hand to the sobbing slave’s cheek.

“I warned you, slave. You have to learn that my threats are not empty. You need to be chastised for your failings, do you understand?” she asked.

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress,” she wept, rubbing her cheek to the hand. Lynn adored the Mistress for having done as she had reported. She had known what would happen, she broken that rule and as a consequence had been punished exactly as had been preordained. To know that the Mistress would do whatever she said without compunction was strangely reassuring, to know she would not balk or exaggerate her deeds to gain compliance.

“Now, it’s time for you to worship my rear, slave,” she commented and started to shift back so that the cleft of her hindquarters hung over Lynn’s face. The rubber sheet of midnight sheen stretched across her as a black glittering sky. Lynn’s own face was reflected in the opaque mirror, distorted and elongated to the point of being unrecognisable.

The sound of an electrical device being plugged in sounded over her racing breath and a thrumming purr followed it. It sounded like a vibrator, only one much more powerful than any she had previously heard.

Lynn caught a glimpse as the Mistress swung it out to straighten the cord. The
magic wand
was a large white handle of plastic. A small stem at the top supported a bulbous orb at the tip that shivered with intense oscillations.

The moment the buzzing sphere nestled between her legs, Lynn broke into fits of response. The toy was superlative at creating pleasure, generating a bliss that made her jerk with shock at how ferocious it was. Her rhapsodic shriek was slain before she could even begin her exhale when the rear of the Mistress dropped into place. Settling across Lynn’s nose and mouth the Mistress cut off all her air. Lynn’s mouth was wide, trying to cry out, the air unable to get through the suffocating wall. Her eyes bulged and stared up across the rest of the Mistress’ rear and her back as her body flexed and moved, wriggling on Lynn’s face while manoeuvring the wand. Lynn’s legs kicked and skipped against the floor. Spasmodic fits operated her physique and she choked and fought the burden of the Mistress.

To be denied breath by the latex-coated buttocks of the Mistress and to be assailed by such pleasure was almost too much to handle all at once. Her face started to heat up and her lungs fought to acquire breath. The asphyxiation increased her pleasure, making it more intense, magnifying it as though it was passing through a lens.

The Mistress lifted herself up a little, letting Lynn gasp and suck in valuable lungfuls of air. The fires of her denial subsided and before she could fully recover, the Mistress dropped back after she heard a long inhale.

Lynn licked at the material responsible for her deprivation, lost to the wonderful tang and her subjugation. To be so used was exquisite. Shaking beneath the wand, it was as though the device were throwing its vibrations out through the rest of her body, conducting them into her legs and body and shaking every cell in her physique.

Burning from denial, becoming light-headed and torn by delight, Lynn was given another moment to snatch some air before the captivating rear fell again. The two rubber cushions engulfed her face, taking her enjoyment of being subjugated, smothered and pleasured to unbearable degrees even higher.

Numerous times the Mistress repeated this treatment until Lynn was approaching climax. Her legs tightened and knotted over each other into complex configurations as the monstrous orgasm began to gather and readied to erupt.

Lynn needed breath. The hypoxia was making her sight start to swim, but the Mistress was not rising. Lynn started to squirm and fight in panic, desperate even as she continued to lick the rubber shorts. Her head fought the weight, trying to get free and find air, even just a little would suffice.

The warmth in her loins continued to well, reaching out. The tide rose relentlessly up until the first tempestuous clusters of orgasm gouged through her. At the same moment, the Mistress reached in and pulled the thong free of her tracts. The material slipped steadily free, carrying her even higher as it scratched and dragged a route out of her warm belly.

Lynn’s yowling scream could not escape. The trapped air languished unused in her lungs, her exhale being prevented by the latex mask.

The wand continued its adept work, dragging out more shocking flares of bliss and taking Lynn further into consuming rapture. Her sight flashed with startled influxes and her thoughts were scrambled.

The toy came away as the Mistress threw up a leg and swung off of Lynn in full. Immediately she folded up, shaking, gathering into a ball as she wheezed and gulped in air with such enthusiasm that it could have been her first ever taste of it. Suddenly Lynn jumped outwards, the Mistress having tugged the plug out, the assault on a new orifice reviving her pain and pleasure. A moment after the removal, where she banged a fist to the floor, her buttocks clenched tight to weather the flood of fury, she sagged back into her pose of recovery.

Flashes of startled reply continued to pour through her, the unbelievable pleasure having created numerous aftershocks that continued to plague her.

A hand brushed back her damp strands of hair and caressed her cheek. Lynn blindly kissed the digits.

“Thank you, Mistress. Thank you,” she stated weakly.

“Good, slave,” she commented and continued to soothe her as she recovered from the ordeal.

The Mistress looked up and to her other slave who was still in the corner, his hand rising and falling on a steady rate.

“That’s enough, slave. Once you have studied them awhile longer, I will be testing you on them, and for your sake I hope you get them right.”

With a grimace of pain he folded his resistant length back into its prison. Stiffening in jolts, he was forced to punish himself so as to hide his nakedness from the dominas behind him.