Mistress Extreme (20 page)

That night spent by Jacqui under Isabella's roof turned into a week during which she informed Isabella that she was currently between jobs, had been sleeping on a friend's couch. Could she, maybe … blah, blah, blah.

So, the week turned into a month, turned into a second month. Jacqui was over the moon, thought she'd died and gone to heaven. David just wished she'd go to hell. Except, well, that was only half the truth. It was also a fact that, not to put too fine a point on it, she turned him on considerably, made him quite incredibly horny.

David couldn't help himself – despite Jacqui's transparent deviousness, despite the fact that she had once shown herself all to willing to hang him out to dry when it had suited her purposes, he really liked having the randy little madam around. And he loved it when he and she were disciplined together by Isabella. It was intoxicating, it was extreme ...

Isabella was standing in the middle of the dungeon, looking exquisite in a miniscule chain mail bikini and pointed leather shoes with sharp stiletto heels. She was admiring her efforts so far:

A naked Jacqui, her eyes wide and glassy, lay on her back on the black leather-covered bondage table. Isabella had clipped the chains at the four corners of the table to the red leather wrist and ankle cuffs Jacqui had on. This had had the effect of spreading her arms and legs widely apart. Jacqui's bald pussy was completely exposed. It was moist and silky, dripping with liquid, and her clit was twitching.

David was also naked and in bondage. Isabella had beaten him thoroughly already and now had him strapped tightly into the upright torture chair. The dominatrix had gagged him with a soft black leather gag and attached clover clamps to his nipples. His cock was rigidly erect.

Isabella strode towards the leather-covered bondage table to which she had Jacqui spread eagled. The domme's shapely thighs quivered and rubbed together provocatively as she moved and her stiletto heeled shoes click-clicked against the dungeon floor.

It was Jacqui's turn to be disciplined now and the young slave knew it. She could feel her heart thumping and her pussy began to tighten moistly, her clit to twitch still more. Her breath was coming fast and furious.

Isabella didn't start Jacqui's discipline with anything even approaching a warm up. Instead she began whipping her breasts hard with a heavy leather flogger, marking the two fleshy orbs with vivid lines that were a fierce red in colour. She then switched disciplinary implements and started beating Jacqui's pussy with a small but vicious leather flogger. It hurt like the devil, that flogger, each harsh strike causing Jacqui to jump and shudder in her bonds. Her eyes started to brim with tears, pain and fear colliding in her punished body.

The dominatrix stopped beating Jacqui all of a sudden. ‘This nasty little flogger works even better on a man's genitals,' she announced as she strode away from Jacqui and returned her attention to David who remained gagged and tightly strapped to the upright torture chair. The hard flesh of his erection was now smeared copiously with precome fluid, which had worked itself from its glans.

Isabella used the vicious little flogger to whip David's shaft ferociously hard. It reared up even higher in response, angrily purple and veiny. David jerked against his restraints at the indescribably sharp pain he was experiencing, but still Isabella kept on beating his aching erection. Eventually the desperate look in David's eyes told her that the pain was becoming too much for him to bear and she stopped whipping him. She released him from the torture chair and removed his nipple clamps and gag.

The dominatrix then released Jacqui from the bondage table. She led her and David to a part of the dungeon where four chains hung from the ceiling to about four feet from the ground.

Isabella placed the two slaves standing back to back either side of the chains, and took hold of a box of red pegs. She used all of these, attaching them painfully to their nipples, Jacqui's pussy lips, David's scrotum and one to the small flap of skin just under the head of his engorged cock.

Isabella then blindfolded them both and told them to turn round. She clipped their wrist cuffs to the end of a chain each and then winched the chains up so that their arms were outstretched above their heads. Finally she manacled Jacqui's ankles to either end of a wooden hobble bar and attached David's ankles to another hobble bar in the same way.

‘Now for some more torture,' announced the dominatrix, her voice harsh. She selected a rattan cane for the purpose and went on to thrash their backsides with it, alternating four stripes per slave. She sliced the cruel implement through the air in one quick swipe after another. The blows of the cane cracked hard each time against their flesh and made them wince and squeal and buck within their bonds.

Isabella steadily increased the severity of her caning until they were both shuddering violently in agonized ecstasy … and then she stopped abruptly, dropping the rattan cane to the floor where it landed with a clatter. The dominatrix marched away from the two slaves to the door of the dungeon, opened it and left.

Jacqui lifted her lips to David. She kissed him on the mouth, her warm lips pressing hard against his. David felt the tip of her tongue probe his lips. Jacqui moved her mouth away for a fraction, and then brought it back. She kissed his open mouth again, this time pushing her tongue into his, sliding it over and over.

Jacqui felt horny beyond belief, the heat of desire sweeping through her body. Her clit was buzzing, burning as if David's thick long cock was already thrusting away inside her. She was ripe, ready. David felt ready too, more than ready.

The two blindfolded slaves would have loved to have fucked then,
loved
to. They imagined fucking, imagined doing it again and again with amazing intensity. But their bondage – the taut chains, the hobble bars, the pegs attached to their genitals – made anything like that a physical impossibility.

David and Jacqui did the only thing they could do. They continued to kiss deeply, David letting Jacqui explore his mouth still more with her hard wet tongue. They kissed for a very long time. They kissed and kissed and kissed. Jacqui's lips were soft and her tongue voluptuous. David abandoned himself to that lengthy kiss, surrendered to it, his senses exploding. It felt so right to him. It felt too right. It felt so right it was wrong.

Looking back, David knew he would have acted very differently if he could have had his time over again. But we are all blessed with 20-20 vision when it comes to viewing events in hindsight. David didn't have perfect vision at the time. In fact, he couldn't see a damn thing. And he wasn't even blindfolded on this occasion, neither of them were.

Isabella had arranged to meet up with Kate for dinner and decided to “park” Jacqui and David in her absence. She chose to take the pair of them, both naked as usual, down to the dungeon and lock them inside its metal cage. She left them there where she had positioned them, kneeling side by side and about a foot apart. ‘You can talk as much as you like but no touching,' she ordered, adding, ‘I won't bother to monitor you with the CCTV this time. There'd be no point.' They had both begun to ponder what might have been the significance of that last remark when everything suddenly went pitch black as the lights zapped off, and Isabella slammed shut the dungeon door behind her departing form.

David felt as if he was in a darkened cinema waiting for the big film to start, and it was an erotic film. He could smell the sensual, musky scent of Jacqui's perfume. And then her soft, warm breath was by his ear. Her mouth was so close he thought she was going to kiss him. He very much hoped she wouldn't try anything like that, delicious though the prospect was, and indeed she didn't. She whispered to him instead but what she said was indistinct, he didn't catch it.

‘What was that?' he said.

‘Mistress said we can talk,' she said. It looked as if Jacqui was going to behave herself this time, but you never knew with her.

The darkness around them was thick and close.

‘What do you want to talk about?' David asked.

‘All sorts of things,' she said.

‘Like what?'

‘Well, let's see … I understand that Mistress required you to sign some kind of slave contract when you first moved in with her to be her house-slave,' Jacqui said. ‘Is that right?'

‘Yes it is,' David confirmed. ‘I didn't have any reservations at all about signing it.'

‘No?' Jacqui sounded sceptical.

‘No, honestly,' David insisted.

‘What, signing over your independence completely to another person?'

‘That's right,' David replied. ‘As far as I'm concerned, as Mistress's house-slave, contract or no contract, I exist only for her pleasure. I was only too happy, honoured even, to sign a document committing myself to unconditional devotion to Mistress and to live by the rules she wanted to set for me.'

‘I can relate to that, the way you explain it,' Jacqui said, sounding convinced. ‘I'd have signed it too, I reckon, if the opportunity had ever arisen.'

There was silence for a while in the darkness, and then Jacqui spoke again. ‘Our world is a strange one, don't you think, David.' Her tone of voice was reflective.

‘How do you mean?'

‘Well, its fantasy and reality all mixed together, isn't it. Everything is topsy-turvy. You know, pleasure is pain, bondage is release, submission is freedom.'

‘It is strange, but wonderful too,' David said. ‘To my way of thinking a life of subservience to Mistress is a perfect life. I find liberation and happiness in my enslavement to her and worship her completely. I know that when I break one of her rules she will beat me, but, then, I like being punished physically.'

‘You just can't lose!'

‘I wouldn't say that exactly,' David said, smiling into the darkness. It was a smile he would all too soon be wearing on the other side of his face.

‘What made you the way you are, do you think?' Jacqui asked. ‘Was it how you were brought up, maybe, or some incident in your childhood or adolescence? Were you by any chance brought up as a Catholic?'

‘Why bring the Catholic church into it?'

‘Well, you know what they say,' Jacqui replied. ‘Catholicism and filthy sex go together like salt beef and rye!'

David laughed. Oh what fun he and Jacqui were having – for now. ‘No, I wasn't brought up a Catholic, wasn't brought up with any religion, actually.'

‘What sort of relationship did you have with your mother?'

‘Was I a mother's boy, you mean?'

‘Well … yeah.'

‘Not in the traditional sense. I ...'

‘Did she ever beat you?' Jacqui interrupted.

‘Ah, the cross-examination continues,' David said. ‘Yes, she did used to beat me – constantly, if you must know.'

‘Ah ha!'

‘How about you?' David asked quickly, anxious to deflect the conversation away from himself when it came to this particular sensitive subject. ‘Are there any Freudian skeletons hanging in your closet?'

‘There certainly are,' Jacqui said. ‘I can trace my masochism back directly to my upbringing.'

‘Tell me about it,' David said. ‘Paint me the picture.' And Jacqui did, kneeling there side by side with him inside the locked cage in the bitumen-blackness of the dungeon.

‘My mother was brought up by parents who were extremely religious. And yes, before you ask, David, they were Catholics. They were also what you might call old-fashioned disciplinarians. My mother's motto was ‘Spare the rod and spoil the child'. She used to insist that it never did her any harm and she imposed a similarly strict disciplinary regime on me. Whenever I was the slightest bit naughty, she used to spank me hard on my bare bottom with the flat of her hand. Later, she progressed to using a wooden paddle and the stinging sensations I felt after a really heavy correction – and they usually were just that – caused me to masturbate. Mother started using a cane on me not long after that and these sessions invariably left me with a warm, tingling feeling even though they were always very painful and left bruises that took several days to fade. During those days I couldn't keep my hands from out of my pants, I masturbated so much. I found myself deliberately being naughty more and more just so she would beat me and I'd get those delicious sensations again. Sound familiar, David?'

It sounded very familiar, uncomfortably so. ‘Yes it does rather,' he replied flatly, careful not to let any emotion slip out.

Jacqui went on, ‘Once, mother caught me masturbating after one of her beatings and punished me for it by caning me so hard that I climaxed during my punishment. I became an even more persistent masturbator after that, fantasising all the while about being caned. It was a vicious circle.

‘After masturbation I discovered fucking – with men and women alike – but by then, thanks to my upbringing, I was already much too perverted to put up with a vanilla sex life. I developed a tremendous craving for something that would take the place of mother's frequent beatings and I'd often resort in desperation to self flagellation while masturbating – particularly after I met a woman called Anne while I was at university, but that's another story. All that self abuse – in both senses of the term – wasn't anything like enough for me, though. It did not take long for my deep masochistic cravings to lead me to S&M sex clubs like
Club Depravity
and extreme fetish parties like the one where we got reacquainted so memorably a few months ago.

‘So, I have come a long way as a pervert in my young life but I trace the roots of it all to my upbringing. I still associate being bad – wilful, deceitful, treacherous, whatever – with the pleasure of being punished for it, with the pleasure of pain. And the person who's dishing out the pain simply has to be female, echoes of my dear but not so sainted mother, I have no doubt. I don't blame her for what she did to me, though, what she
made
me. I really like being a pain-slut. Words cannot express how much I do.'

‘Me too,' David said. He had become turned-on despite himself by Jacqui's vivid account, which resonated strongly with some of his earlier experiences in ways he preferred not to think about directly. He made sure that he kept the conversation in the hear-and-now by going swiftly on to say, ‘I love to be disciplined by Mistress. Being submissive to her is my whole life.'

‘When are your happiest, horniest times?' Jacqui asked, a throaty catch in her voice.

‘Let me think now,' David said, uncomfortably aware of the further stirrings in his loins as his imagination got to work. ‘I guess it's when I'm on my knees and licking Mistress's pussy, tonguing her to orgasm while my punished rear glows from the most recent beating she has given me. I love to kiss and lick her feet, to use my tongue to explore her anus, to do anything at all that Mistress tells me to, no matter how perverted.'

‘That makes two of us,' Jacqui said. Her voice had become hoarse with excitement. ‘I love being available to Mistress, submitting to her every erotic and sadistic whim, giving myself completely to her. I love it when she orders me about, love it almost as much as when she beats me hard or fucks me senseless with one of her strap-ons.'

‘Me too,' said David, who was getting as sexually excited as his young companion by all this hot talk. ‘Her orders always make me horny, I don't really know why, but there we are, they do.'

‘How do you feel about always having to call her “Mistress”?'

‘I love it. Each time I call her “Mistress” I feel a definite erotic thrill. Real weirdo, aren't I?'

‘
Mois aussi
,' Jacqui said. ‘Weirdoes of the world unite, that's what I say. You have nothing to lose but your liberty!'

There was silence for a lengthy moment and it was replete with sexual tension. Then Jacqui whispered in David's ear, ‘All this talk of submission and punishment has made me feel incredibly horny.'

‘Now don't start all that again,' David warned. ‘Remember the last time.'

‘When Mistress used the hidden CCTV camera on us, you mean.'

‘Exactly.'

‘There's no CCTV camera this time, is there?'

No answer.

‘Well, is there?' Jacqui whispered hotly in his ear again. ‘You heard what she said.'

‘I did, but …'

‘I'll bet you're feeling just as horny as I am, David,' she said and she'd certainly got that dead right. It was the proximity of her more than anything else that was doing it now. It was overwhelming his senses.

‘No, I'm fine,' he lied, his heart racing. He could smell her, almost taste her.

‘So, if I were to reach out for your cock in a moment I wouldn't find it rock-hard?'

‘No Jacqui, don't …' But David was done for and he knew it. She took hold of his shaft, which was indeed rigidly erect. It throbbed and flexed in her hand. She smeared her fingers with the tears that cried from its tip and began to stroke it. The more Jacqui stroked David's cock, the faster she went, her hand going up and down in the precome wetness that now thoroughly coated it.

‘Do you want me to suck you off?' she asked.

‘Y … yes,' he stammered.

‘Then say it, say the words.'

‘I want you to suck me off,' David said. Jacqui opened her lips and took his cock deep into her mouth. Her tongue licked its thickness, her lips kissing and rubbing against it so that it pulsed and strained against her mouth.

‘B … but what if Mistress finds out?' David just about managed to stammer out, given his ever more feverish state of excitement. Jacqui stopped what she was doing, removing her mouth from his erection.

‘I won't say anything if you don't, I swear on my life,' she said, adding, ‘Also I'll swallow the evidence. Mistress will never be any the wiser. Trust me. You
do
trust me don't you, David?'

‘Yes,' he gasped.

‘Say it, then.'

‘I trust you,' David, the idiot, replied, his cock now entirely doing his thinking for him.

It had been as black as pitch in the dungeon for several hours when all of a sudden the door opened and Isabella entered, flicking on the light. She looked in the direction of the padlocked cage and saw her two slaves kneeling as she had left them, about a foot apart. They both blinked in the abrupt glare of the light, trying to adjust their eyes, before adopting the most innocent expressions imaginable. David's face was as bland as could be and Jacqui looked as if butter – or anything else – wouldn't melt in her mouth.

‘I hope you two have had a nice chat,' Isabella said, her own face expressionless. ‘Have you?'

‘Yes, Mistress,' they replied in unison.

‘Glad to hear it,' Isabella said. Her gaze had suddenly developed a hard edge. ‘I look forward with eager anticipation to listening to the tape recording I made of your conversation.'

David tried his best to keep any emotion from showing on his face but inside he was in a total panic. Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! he cursed to himself. And well might he have done because there was no doubt about it: the shit had undeniably, irrefutably hit the fan now. Why, oh why had he done it? Why had he trusted Jacqui of all people, for God's sake? She had been the instigator, the one who had been doing all the seducing, the real culprit. Mistress would see that when she played the tape back, surely, wouldn't she?
Wouldn't she?