Part 1 of 3
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This work is the copyrighted material of the respective author. ~Tigger
Cautionary Notes: This is a love story with Female Dominant, Male Dominant, TV Dominant, Female Submissive, Male Submissive, TV Submissive themes. It is not 'Forced Femme' so much as 'Strongly Urged and Gently Manipulated Femme.' These are necessary to the story I want to tell, but I hope, as with my earlier story, "Contract Modifications," that most readers will not find these elements of theme too distressing.
I consider this tale to be a 'Hard-R' in rating as due to the love/sexual scenes and due to some hard language. In truth, however, it is not much more graphic than most bodice-ripper romances available at your local book-store so I feel that an 'X' rating is inappropriate. It does, as noted above, feature Dominance and Submission themes, so the reader should take that into consideration when deciding to read this tale. ~Tigger
Acknowledgments: My sincere thanks to Brandy Dewinter for the gifts of her creativity, her insight, her eye for 'just the right word' (and just the wrong one of mine) and her, ummm, persistence. I can say without qualm that there were many times when I was about to take this story in a direction I did not want it to go because my characters were getting out of hand. In each case, she helped me see the problem and helped me rein them in. Not an easy task because, as I hope you'll see, ShaJuana Price is a lady who is VERY determined to go and get her own way! So it took BOTH of us to keep her in line! My muse and I thank you, Brandy!
Special thanks to the TG-Fiction Listserv community who read this tale in its pre-publication form and provided me with feedback, editing help and encouragement. At some point in every writing project, it becomes impossible for me to read what I wrote because I 'see' what I thought I wrote. Any remaining errors are mine, probably because I wrongly thought my way was better than those recommended by my 'beta-testers'. ~Tigger
Part II
Chapter 10: A Mid-Autumn Day Dream-Day
"Please move more smartly, Tyrone," Solange said sharply, "We have a great deal to accomplish before your playroom session today."
Bemused by his mentor's obvious haste, Ty stole a glance at his watch. "But, Solange, it's just barely past eight in the morning! That scene doesn't start for another six hours yet!"
"No, your session starts in six hours, but the entire scene starts now," the regal Mistress replied, a slightly scary smile curving her full lips.
"We'll be in Prep Room 8 today," she continued, surprising him down to his toes. Despite his short time working at the dungeon, he’d learned just how rarely that prep room was used. In fact, he'd only seen it occupied twice. The first time had been when a high-profile visiting Domina had made use of one of the dungeon’s playrooms and had wanted to see personally to her submissive's preparations. The other time had involved a wife-mistress who had relaxed in there while watching DeeDee work over her subby-hubby on the closed circuit television system.
They reached the room and Solange entered first, and then made a grand gesture of waving him into the room "My dear, the experience of your lifetime awaits you!"
Ty cautiously entered the room and made a quick scan of the room. He took in the dainty lingerie laid out on the duvet of a canopied bed. There were elegantly strict heels on the floor beside the bed. Then he saw the rest of the costume, sealed in plastic, hanging from the canopy's frame, and felt the world around him slip away. He didn't even hear the door latching behind him as he came to grips with precisely what Solange intended for his session.
"You have got to be kidding me!?!"
"As I have told you on numerous occasions, slave, I do not EVER kid. And from this moment until you are told the session is over, you are in scene and the only way it ends before you are released by the Mistress-in-charge is to use your safeword. Do you understand?"
Ty looked around the room one more time, swallowed hard, and then, resigned, sighed, "Yes, Maitresse, I understand."
"Do you consent?"
Now, Ty swallowed, and momentarily closed his eyes. He needed the money or he'd lose the opportunity before it was even fully offered. He nodded. "I consent, Maitresse."
"For the record, speak you safeword."
"Maitresse, my safeword is 'Shakespeare,'" he answered solemnly.
"One last thing, Mr. Edwards. You understand that you do not have a caution word in this scene? The play continues at the discretion of the Mistress in charge and at the pace she sets until the scene ends, either by her order or your safeword. Do you understand that?"
All or nothing, he told himself. "I understand, Maitresse."
"Very well, then. Strip out of those ridiculous clothes and go use what I've laid out for you in the bath to remove all your body hair — everything below your eyes. It has been entirely too long since you have properly depilitated yourself. Then, we'll see to your bubble bath." When Ty hesitated — just slightly — Solange snapped. "Move it, young man, unless you would prefer to experience an all-over Brazilian body waxing while strapped to a torture rack! In fact, I have three Mistresses standing by in the Torquemada Room, just itching for the opportunity to help prepare you!"
Ty moved it!
"Isn't this just a little over the top, Maitresse? Even for here?"
Solange fought back a smile, and continued brushing out her slave's now long blond hair. "Even for here?" she asked, in offended, exaggerated tones. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"All. . . .THIS," Ty replied, gesturing with one hand to indicate the entire room, "I don't get why it's necessary. I mean, I agreed to. . ."
"You agreed to do this scene," Solange replied, her tones implacable. "I told you that I would script this experience for you. I think what I have planned for you is more than reasonable given what you claim you want to do here. Lord above, slave boy, I even permitted you your choice of the attending dominatrice. Let me tell you, there was quite the hue and cry over that leniency on my part. I even received a petition, signed by almost every Mistress on the dungeon's staff, requesting that I rescind that concession, and instead, hold a lottery of some type with you as the prize. That way, all my ladies could have had a chance to 'help you' through this experience. Why, two of my ladies went so far as to offer to bribe me for the opportunity to be the one working you today! I must say, it quite tore my heart out to disappoint them, particularly poor Deirdre," Solange said in a light, teasing tone.
"DEEDEE??!? Maitresse, she's not going to . . "
Solange became quiet, and there was none of the tease about her any longer. "I would not violate your trust that way, Mr. Edwards, nor ignore the limit we negotiated regarding you being attended by Deirdre. You should know better than that by now."
Ty's face reddened under the heavy foundation coat Solange had applied to him. "I'm sorry, Solange. You're right, I should have known better. I do know better. It's just this whole production you've laid on is messing me up."
"Accepted," she purred, putting down the brush. She walked over toward the tall armoire. "It's almost time for the second act of my little extravaganza," she paused at the door and looked back at the face reflected to her in the dressing mirror. "Just remember your role. You are a cross-dressed male, much as you were in our first scene. You, Tyrone Edwards the actor, are not portraying a woman in this drama. You are portraying a male character who is pretending to be a woman. Additionally, every other character in this drama knows up front that your character is pretending and will react to him as such. This is the role most female clients will expect from you when they pay for such services as you are about to demonstrate that you can provide them."
"Yes, Maitresse," the cross-dressed male replied in a squeaky, patently overdone falsetto.
"Very good, then let's put the finishing touches on your outfit, shall we?" La Maitresse asked, as she returned to him, a length of white lace streaming from her fingers.
Solange hummed Mendelssohn the entire walk up to the specially prepared play room. "Have fun, dear," she whispered before planting an affectionate, almost motherly kiss on Ty's powdered cheek. "I truly do want this to be fun - for both of you." Then she slipped out and closed the door, leaving him alone.
He wondered what time it was, but he didn't have a watch. Brides, he mused, even cross-dressers rigged out as brides didn't wear watches. Moving carefully so he wouldn't trip himself by catching the white gown's long train beneath one or both of the high heels, he moved over to the floor length mirror on the other side of the huge bed.
It had taken Solange four attempts, working the back laces up and down the corset, to tighten the white satin foundation sufficiently that the gown actually fit him. Ty had never before been laced quite so tightly, and had even needed to sit down once toward the end of the last pass due to shortness of breath. Solange had managed to squeeze so much off his waist that he appeared to be wearing the hip and fanny pads — even though he wasn't. Those had not been a part of his costume for they would have, according to Solange, ". . . gotten in the way of 'thing'."
Ty just bet they would.
Solange had also had a great time telling Ty in entirely too much detail what distinguished the design of this particular gown from any other very tight, long-skirted, white dress. A bride, she had assured him, would be expected to know and be very interested in such details.
Looking into the mirror, he could see that the bloody thing was strapless - obviously. What else was there? Oh yeah, a cinched, pleated bodice with a drop waistline. Well, he wasn't all that certain about 'dropped' anything, but Solange had sure cinched him, and yes, he could see the pleats in the bodice (that was the part that went around his chest, right?), too. Looking over his shoulder at his right hip, he could see that rosette gee-gaw, not to mention the VERY full skirt, but he didn't know and couldn't really care less what made the train 'church-length'. . .or was that 'cathedral length?' Lord only knew 'cause he sure as heck didn't. And . . and what the hell was Tulle, anyway???!
It was at that point, he noticed there something strange about his face. Moving closer, he tried to figure out what it was that was bothering him. Certainly the make up had been applied expertly - by Solange herself who was nothing if not expert - but there was something wrong about it, something almost, well, garish. . .
Ty's eyes snapped wide. "That's IT!" he yelped as he took in the totality of what Solange had done to his face. The colors were all wrong for his skin tones and blond hair, and Solange would never make such a basic error. Which meant, of course, that she'd done it intentionally. Her (his?) face was much too well defined. The various cosmetics had not been blended at all and were much too thickly applied. He looked like a very sexy clown in a wedding dress! All he needed was white face-paint!
What had been Solange's intent, for there could be no question that this. . . this caricature of femininity was completely intentional on her part?
Ty thought hard about that question as he continued to study Solange's artistry in the mirror. The only time he'd looked anything like this garishly overdone was when he'd done his own face for the French Maid scene with Juana and Maitresse Solange. And then he'd been? Oh yeah, in the role of a boy pretending to be a girl. . . just like Solange had told him to be now. Before, in the prep room, he'd been too overwhelmed by the whole "Mother of the Bride" pre-wedding experience Solange had orchestrated to take in what she'd done to his face. Crap, but when was the last time he'd had a bubble bath, let alone one lasting a whole hour? No wonder he was so off balance.
Which of course, was precisely her Dommely intent.
Okay, so now he had noticed. Stepping back from the mirror, Ty again started, this time in earnest, to become his character.
Interlude - Romeo's Juliette. . . or Vice Versa?
"So-LANGE, I don't feel so very good! I think I'm going to hurl — right here, right now!!"
La Maitresse smiled up at her pacing, half dressed colleague. "It's the bride who's supposed to have nervous-tummy butterflies, dear, not the groom," she teased. "You're supposed to be snorting and pawing about like a bull in terminal rut. Particularly since you don't have to worry about performance anxiety or . . . any, how shall I put this delicately? Ah, I know, any dysfunction erectally."
Juana spun about and glared down at the seated and composed older woman. "Screw THAT! This is just SO wrong. I shouldn't even be considering this. Ty's my FRIEND, dammit! I could so mess that up with this! WHAT WAS I THINKING!?!?"
"Oh, I suspect it had something to do with jumping his bones, dear, so I expect you to screw him instead of whatever 'that' is," Solange offered helpfully.
"SOLANGE!!" The black Amazon Mistress stopped pacing and began shedding the outfit she had been donning mere moments ago. "I don't think I can DO this!"
"All right," Solange agreed easily, hope flaring inside her. "We'll postpone this . . . get another Mistress in here to do the scene. Deirdre's out - Ty's leery of her, and besides, I agreed to a 'no-scene-with DeeDee' limit for him after their last get-together. Isolde could do it, or. . or, I know, Bettina! I usually have my newbies start with her, anyway, because they often need to be broken in gently; something at which she is very good. Hmmmm."
The older woman saw hope warring with resistance in her young friend's eyes. "It is a solution, dear," she said, her voice now very gentle and completely devoid of any teasing. "But it is not the correct one. You know that you should be the one to do this. He asked for you and after you agreed, I promised him it would be you."
The lovely brown eyes filled at that, "But, Solange, what if I hurt him? Or worse, what if he cracks on me in there — BLAMES me, when push comes to shove? I could lose him. He's my best friend and I could lose him!"
"Lovers should always first be friends, dear," the older woman said softly as she gathered the now sobbing girl into her arms. "And lovers are what you're going to become, if you strip away all the glitz, props and games - you're going to be lovers. Certainly not in the normal way of such things, but in a way that works here for women like you and me. Besides, who wants to be merely normal, anyway?"
"But what if . . if he doesn't want me?" the taller girl said, her tears still thickening her voice.
"He already does, or he wouldn't have asked for you. You're gorgeous, but you're not the prettiest or the sexiest Domme in my stable. He asked for you because you're his friend, Juana. He knows what this is about, and you're the one he asked me for. He likes you, too, but more than that, he trusts you. And yes, he wants you, too. He has ever since he 'neebled' your boob, if not well before that!"
"Ya think?"
"I know. Now, go fix your face and get dressed. Your bride is waiting!" Solange gave her friend a bracing swat on her butt, urging her to get moving.
ShaJuana slowly moved back to her discarded shirt and shrugged back into it. "Ummm, how does he look? In the bride's dress, I mean," she asked as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail.
"Here," Solange replied, pulling a slip of paper from her pocket. "I made him pose for bridal photos as part of the morning's entertainments."
There was a noticeable trembling in the fingers that accepted the computer generated four by six inch glossy. The picture showed a somewhat voluptuous blonde in a gorgeous white gown - bare shouldered, tight bodice flowing into a wide, floor-length skirt. Her makeup was really overdone, but that was not a surprise given the scene Solange had laid on for Ty and Juana.
"Oh my god," the tall Mistress breathed, staring even harder at the photo as if she were trying to pick out every tiny detail. "Mine!" and it was a growl of feminine possessiveness that made Solange almost sorry she'd shown it to the girl.
Juana tucked the picture into the breast pocket of the ruffled shirt, and then reached for the jacket, leaving her shirt collar undone and discarding the bow-tie. "The, ah, props in the usual place?" she asked.
Nodding, Solange took the tailed coat herself and held it out to help Juana slip it on. "In the top drawer of the main dresser. Your favorite style, too."
"How big?" Juana asked, shooting the shirt's cuffs as she turned around to face Solange.
They both knew what she wanted to know. Solange only shrugged. "Big enough," was her non-committal reply. "He has to know, dear, exactly what he'll be getting into if we really bring him into our menu of offerings in that capacity. Or more importantly, what will be getting into him. The clients will expect to be allowed more than baby-toys when they play with him."
"But we usually break the newbies slow - get them used to having something in their asses before we go to the full strap-on butt-fuck! You know - enemas, gradual stretching - that kind of thing first."
"Well, if he has any sense - and we know that he does - he'll have done as I directed last night and used the enema kit I gave him. That nozzle is about the size of a number 2 plug — not to mention he's walking around right now with a number three I just put in him. ShaJuana, CHILL, okay? You've handled virgins before. You'll do just fine."
"Yeah, but will Ty?"
Solange gave an unladylike snort. "I expect you'll BOTH do fine. Ready?"
Juana took a deep breath, and then another. "Guess so. Let's do this thing, then."
Solange took her friend's arm and gave her a little shake. "Let's go do this thing WELL, dear," she said firmly. "And if that boy doesn't faint from pure pleasure at some point in the next couple of hours? Well, I'll be very disappointed because you are that damned good!"
Juana started for a moment, and then looked down into Solange's clear, grey eyes. "Thanks," she said, and then headed for the stairs that would take her up to the boudoir playroom where her bride awaited.
Solange peaked around the stairwell's corner and was relieved to find the corridor empty. There would be no witnesses who might question her purposes as she slipped into the playroom floor's electronic surveillance office.
Experienced fingers flipped a number of switches, powering up the covert video and audio systems that she’d installed to ensure that all BDSM play in HER place was conducted safely and with the full consent of all players involved. Seating herself at the main control console, Solange powered up the bank of monitors on the wall immediately opposite the front of the console. Moments later, the surveillance systems were configured so that each of the four cameras hidden in the boudoir playroom was feeding its own monitor.
"Damn!" she snarled as she took in the main camera display. ShaJuana and her ‘bride’ were clearly displayed on the forty-two inch wide-screen, staring at each other uncertainly from opposite sides of the ornately decorated room with the huge marital bed between them. It was like some kinky version of a Rock Hudson/Doris Day romantic comedy movie. "DAMN!" she repeated.
She had not wanted this scene. She did not want this scene. WHY had she ever opened her fool mouth?? The instant — the VERY instant - she’d seen the look on Ty's face after she’d told him what his next training experience would entail, she’d realized this was a disaster waiting to happen. And worse? Just about everything she’d done since to try to prevent the scene from going forward had done nothing positive and more often than not, had made things worse!
It just proved that every well intentioned act was fraught with unintended consequences. Solange had intended for Ty to back out the instant he’d understood what would be required of him in this scene. She’d been so certain he'd drop the idea, she’d magnanimously offered him his choice from among her resident Dommes as Mistress in charge of the session when she’d explained what he should expect during the scene. Just so he'd see how 'fair' she was being about the whole deal.
Then, having dropped that in his lap, she’d waited expectantly for the safeword she knew HAD to be the next sound out of his mouth.
Only, instead of yelping out a choked ‘Shakespeare’, Ty had simply said "When?"
And then, things had only got worse! Ty had requested ShaJuana for his 'groom.' Even in her worst-case scenario imaginings, Solange had never dreamed he'd select his best friend to pluck his cherry. Now she had a Mistress who was on the verge of a panic attack, working with a sub who had absolutely no idea of what might be in store for him. Worse, that panicky Mistress was working with a sub who was predisposed NOT to use his safeword. For reasons she could not even begin to guess, Solange knew that Ty was prepared to accept any pain or humiliation she'd allow in her house because the additional earning power he might gain from it was so important to him.
If that wasn't a recipe for disaster, she didn't want to know what could make it any worse. Now, she had to be here, invading the privacy of what should be a special, first time intimacy, because she had to be ready to do. . . what??!?
She only wished she knew . . .
Chapter 11: What's My Motivation?
The turning of the door handle behind him had Ty nearly jumping out of his shoes. Solange had told him were 'mules;' all Ty knew was that they lacked any heel-backs to keep them securely on his feet, and were high enough to feel dangerous. He somehow managed to keep his balance as he turned to watch the slowly opening door across the ornately made bed.
His first clear look at ShaJuana was stunning. She'd slicked her usually curly hair back so tightly to her head that it resembled a male comb-back style, with the bulk of her wild mane tied back behind her. She wore a very becoming burgundy tuxedo jacket and slacks over a ruffled pink shirt. The outfit was patterned after the classic groom attire, but had clearly been tailored to emphasize that the wearer was utterly female - gorgeous, stacked and damned proud of herself. As did her cosmetics - for despite her role as the groom in this little psychodrama, Juana's face was powerfully and unabashedly feminine.
Ty felt his groin tighten as he watched her enter the room and quietly close the door behind her. Damn, he thought, if only our roles in this play were reversed . . .
But they weren't, and the two of them were here for a purpose - one that Ty had personally requested. Okay, so he hadn't fully considered all the ramifications and consequences, but dammit, he needed the money if he was going to be able to pay that damned tuition without mortgaging his future and his soul.
Why wasn't she making the first move, he wondered, as ShaJuana just stood there, in front of the door staring at him. Wasn't she supposed to be the Domme in this scene?!? Shouldn't she be, well, taking charge and giving orders?
Solange swallowed against the gorge rising in her throat. If something didn't happen quickly, she'd . . .she'd. . .
Hell, she didn't know what she would or could do. There didn't seem to be anything she could do that wouldn't mess things up worse than she already had done.
DAMMIT, she could lose BOTH of them and it would be her fault.
Maybe she could yell fire and get them to evacuate. . . .
Maybe, Ty thought, someone would set a fire and they could just evacuate. . .
What was he was supposed to do now, dammit? Help her? Didn't Solange say that some of the women he'd have to work with as the duty male slave wouldn't really know what to do or how to do it? Only that they wanted to do it to some guy? Well, hell, he grumbled inwardly, couldn't they have at least taught HIM how to do it first?
The only thing he'd ever had . . . well, back there was the enema nozzle he'd used last night because Solange had told him that a good cleansing would make today's experience easier. Oh, and not to forget that damned butt plug Solange had inserted this morning that reminded him of its presence with every step he took.
What the hell was he supposed to do? Toss up his skirts, shake his booty at Juana and coo over his shoulder, ", , , lookin' for a good time, sailor?" Yeah, that would work.
NOT!
It simply wasn't fair to expect a total virgin to do all the work his very first time! He sure hoped Juana agreed with his assessment of 'fairness' because, truth to tell, he was just a little bit terrified right now and WAITING for ShaJuana to DO something wasn't making his life any easier!
Hell, he'd ASKED for ShaJuana because he was pretty sure she knew what she was about in this kind of deal as much because he trusted and liked her. He expected that she'd know enough to make . . . IT easy . . . well, easier for him.
Several more tension-laden seconds passed, and still the ebony goddess did not make a move to initiate anything. Okay, he thought, she's just going to keep waiting so I am forced to conclude that this must be part of Solange's test, too. Damn her, anyway!
So what to do next? A wry grin crossed Ty's ruby-red lips as a thought came to mind. Well, he told himself, you can't make love fully clothed, so. . .
Kicking off the uncomfortable and potentially dangerous shoes, Ty glided around the bed toward ShaJuana on white-stockinged feet. "Hello, darling," he piped in the abysmal falsetto that Solange had approved, "I've been waiting for you to help me with my gown. I can't reach all those teensie little buttons." He turned his back to Juana, and pulled the veil and blond tresses out of the way. "Undo me, please?"
Solange almost began to breathe again. Ty wasn't fully in character, per se, which was a concern, but not nearly as big a concern as ShaJuana not giving him a foil from whom to take his cues. Well, he had taken the initiative to get things started, which at least was something positive. Perhaps now the ninny would remember HER role in this scene and get on with it.
But she didn't.
Solange shifted cameras and zoomed in on ShaJuana's face - and felt her heart nearly stop. The woman was terrified - worse than she'd been in the prep room.
And now, she was alone with that terror.
This was Solange's worst nightmare - a Mistress completely out of control of a emotion-charged scene - only it was worse than that. ShaJuana was deeply involved with this submissive on both personal and emotional levels, and this scene was heading in a direction that might actually damage that budding relationship.
In truth, Solange admitted to herself, Juana had NEVER been in control of this scene, and she should have seen that in the prep room. Instead of prodding the girl to get on with a scene she clearly had deep reservations about, Solange should have used those reservations as reasons the girl would have accepted to put a stop to the scene before it really started. She could have used any reason for Ty so long as Juana would accept ending it. "Sorry, dear, but Juana is sick - some type of stomach virus or such - and can't do the session today. And no, there are no other Mistresses here with the time or preparation to do this properly. I'm so sorry, after all the time you've spent getting ready, but we'll just have to postpone it for now."
Postpone it FOREVER if Solange had her way, and she'd have had the benefit of more time to do just that!
What had she been thinking when she'd agreed to ShaJuana for this scene?
He didn't feel any fingers tugging at those tiny buttons. Cautiously, Ty looked back over his shoulder and was stunned to see glistening tear-tracks streaming down Juana's cheeks. "Juana?" he asked, reaching out to take her hands in his, and was surprised at how cold and stiff her fingers felt. Moving quickly, he led her over to the opulent bed and urging her to sit. "Are you all right?"
"I. . . I can't . . .do. . ." she rasped, clearly fighting to gain control of her emotions. "Can't. . do this."
Ty felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He'd asked for ShaJuana because, well, she was ShaJuana. Solange had said this Mistress-ing stuff was part of his friend's basic personality and identity, and he'd hoped she would see this as a sort of gift knowing that it was not part of his. Or at least, it had not been up until now.
Only she wasn't going to take the gift.
"You don't want me?" he asked, before the words had even formed fully in his mind.
That got a reaction. Juana's eyes went wide and her mouth dropped in shock. "Not WANT YOU? What, are you nuts!?!"
Ty had no idea what to make of that. Maybe she just didn't want the responsibility of being his first, given the heretofore 'just-friends' nature of their relationship. He should have asked her first so she could have said no, but he'd told Solange first. Maybe that was it. He'd wanted her because they were best friends and he trusted her. It might be that she didn't want to mess that up and was worried that doing this with. . .TO him might? "Ummm, you want me to ask Solange to get another Domme to, uh, break me in, first?"
Suddenly, six-plus feet of enraged Amazon was off the bed, towering over him, staring down at him, her nostrils flaring, her eyes flashing fire. "ARE YOU NUTS?" she repeated herself, nearly deafening him. "Any other bitch comes near you like that and I will have her ass!"
Thoroughly confused now, Ty muttered, "I thought we were supposed to be talking about you having my ass." and found himself eye-to-eye with ShaJuana, his feet dangling inches above the carpeted floor.
Heat flashed back and forth between the two pairs of eyes, and it was the brown pair that broke away. Juana slowly lowered her friend to the floor, and tried to gather herself. "You're right," she said softly, and then went to the armoire.
Ty watched as she withdrew a mass of leather straps and a iridescent purple dildo. It was, with the exception of the color, fairly lifelike. It was also, he thought as his bottom clenched spasmodically about Solange's plug, much larger than either device he'd used last night or this morning in preparation for this day's experience.
MUCH larger!
His attention was diverted from the purple monster by Juana jerking open the armoire's other drawers, and furiously searching each one in turn. He thought he heard her mumble something like, "Where's the other one?"
What other one? Other what? What was Juana talking about, he wondered to himself.
"It's not there because someone - ME - stupidly decided not to put it there," Solange growled to herself. Even as she watched the two young people, her finger tightened ever so slightly on the switch that would signal all off duty staff that a scene had gone bad and assistance was required immediately. ShaJuana had made the move to the armoire for the dildo and its harness, but the lack of the smaller toy she'd expected to find and then to slip into the harness once Ty's back was turned had undone all the good Ty's 'topping from the bottom' intervention had accomplished. Solange was now absolutely certain that it was simply a case of too much, too quickly for both of them.
What would she do, Solange wondered? How would she proceed? In Solange's opinion, there were three possible courses of action, two of which held some hope of salvaging this mess.
ShaJuana could simply end the scene with the intent to reconvene later, and take personal charge of the preparations so that everything would be to her satisfaction.
She could simply pick up the phone and have someone bring her the dildo or dildos she wanted to use in this session. Under other circumstances, that was precisely what Juana would do. She was, after all, the dungeon's most experienced 'cherry-picker' as that skill was a natural adjunct to the forced-femme play for which the black goddess was so well known.
Or she could do exactly what she was doing - nothing, which in point of fact was less than nothing because doing nothing was making things worse for both players.
Solange was almost certain that she would have to step in and end this debacle before any real damage could occur.
Ty was clearly unnerved by the toy in Juana's hands, but. . . but he wasn't repulsed by it! And by god, Solange thought, he should have been! It was too damned large NOT to unnerve - hell, frighten - a novice. Why wasn't he having knicker-fits at the very thought of having to accommodate that monster? Her finger still on the panic-button on her desk, Solange leaned closer to the monitor, trying to figure out what it was that she sensed in there.
Then, she saw it! No, Ty wasn't repulsed by the toy ShaJuana held in her hands because his attention was no longer on that oversized fake cock.
He was focused on ShaJuana!
ShaJuana's reaction to the things she'd removed from that drawer was setting off alarm bells in Ty's head. She'd said she wanted him! And there was no doubt in his mind she'd meant that. She'd also said that she kick the ass of any other Mistress who might be asked to give him this test - again, he had no doubt that she meant that.
So why were they both still dressed? Why was she staring at that dildo and harness like she'd just uncovered a weapon of mass, or was that ass, destruction?
WHY wasn't SOMETHING happening?!?
Every empathic instinct he possessed was on full alert; screaming to him that this was just wrong. It sure as hell was NOT fun, and hadn't Solange assured him that it was supposed to be fun? Juana did not look like she was going to have fun, and if she wasn't having fun, Ty didn't see any way - AT ALL - that he was going to have fun, either.
Suddenly, he knew what he had to do. Friendship counted more than money any day.
"ShaJuana?" he called, but she didn't react to his voice. Instead, she just kept staring at the harness. Grimly, Ty strode over to his tall friend, snatched the toys from her hands and hurled them across the boudoir into the furthest corner of the room. "ShaJuana!" he barked louder. This time, she looked down at him, but there was still befuddled confusion in her chocolate brown eyes. "Shakespeare."
Solange nearly cheered. "Thank you, God," she breathed as she reached for her house phone. She needed to get those two out of there and out of those outfits as quickly as possible! Then she'd do what she could to somehow try to spin this to both their benefits.
"Thank you, God," she repeated.
"Wha . . .? What did you say?" ShaJuana finally got out, sounding like she was just waking up.
"Shakespeare. Red Light! Stop Code. Whatever," Ty said, taking Juana's hands back into his own. "I'm not sure what is wrong here, but we can't do this. For whatever reason, you're not ready, and I just realized, neither am I. I thought I was, but I'm not."
The tall woman's shoulder began to shake. "I'm sorry, Ty," she cried. "Solange said you wanted the extra money for something, but I just couldn't get my head around this. I wanted to - hell, I want YOU . . .but. . .but I just couldn't . . .not now . . . here. . .I mean. . . "
Ty put a finger to Juana's full lips, "Shhhh," he said soothingly as he gently led her to the bed. "Lie down," he ordered, and then laid down beside her, holding her as she cried. "It's okay. I don't think I could have, either, and I'm glad it was you here to see me wimp out instead of DeeDee or Isolde."
"Don't try to kid a kidder, boy," Juana grumbled, her face cuddled into Ty's bared shoulder. "You saw that I was a mess and didn't trust me to be in charge of breaking you in."
Ty pulled back from her, and scooted down to look her directly in the eye. "Now, that is just SO wrong, and I won't have you saying or thinking that. I trust you implicitly, or I wouldn't have requested you. Now that I think about it, and now that we've made this attempt, I will tell you this."
He waited for her to quirk her brows in query. "IF I do this - and that's a pretty big 'if' given how I'm feeling right now - you, my dear ShaJuana, are the only person I'm going to accept as my first lover that way. You know why?"
"Why?" she asked, her voice hopeful.
"Because we HAVE already come this far together, and I think we need to see it through together, but more than that? I don't want to be responsible for the surely fearsome ass-kicking you'd give any other poor hapless Domme who happened to be the one sent in to do me in your place."
That earned him a watery giggle and a rib-cracking hug from his friend. Then they simply laid there on the satin comforter for a long time, locked in each other's arms, saying nothing and needing to say nothing.
A knock on the door roused them. Ty called out, "Enter."
The door opened to admit Solange. "Well?" she asked softly, as if she had no idea what had just transpired between the two of them.
"I safeworded," Ty replied as he rose from the bed. "We weren't ready."
"We?" Solange asked, somehow managing to keep her voice neutral.
"We," Juana answered firmly. "We need to talk about this some more, the three of us."
Inwardly relieved, Solange frowned fiercely at the two young people. "The three of us? I thought this was Ty's decision and my approval."
"I'm in on the decision now, and the approval, too," Juana replied. "Like I said, we need to talk."
"Very well. Go get changed, the pair of you. Come to my office and we'll have some tea. I suspect that Ty is rather hungry just now," a smiling Maitresse said before slipping out of the room.
"Ummm, Juana?" Ty said, pulling on his friend's coat sleeve.
"Yeah, Ty-RONE?" she answered, some of her normal sass back.
"I, ah, still need help with the bloody buttons on this damned gown. There have to be a hundred of them and I'm just not that flexible. And then, there's this cursed corset!"
"Gee, ya mean I get to strip the bride anyways?"
Juana wasn't quite quick enough to dodge the satin-covered pillow Ty sent flying at her in retaliation.
Interlude - More Rehearsal Needed
Later that day, after Ty and ShaJuana had both left for home, Solange unwound in her private office with a large snifter of brandy. All things considered, these new plans suited her better than she had any right to hope for, given the potential disaster she'd nearly had on her hands.
Essentially, Juana was going to instruct Ty privately in the fine art of woman-on-top anal play, and then inform Solange when, in her opinion, Ty was ready to work independently with female clients. She'd given them a toy-box with everything she thought they might need during their off-site 'training,' and then sent the on their way.
Training, Solange giggled like a school girl at the word. Sure, they'd be training. In any case, they'd be going slower, but as Juana had pointed out during their little after-scene critique over tea and scones, that was the way these things were SUPPOSED to be done. That way, the sub got used to the idea that such intimacies could and should be both natural and pleasurable for both participants.
For her part, Solange had agreed to increase Ty's salary to nearly what he would have made as her on-staff TV switch while he underwent this 'intensive' training with Juana. It wasn't as if he wasn't worth every penny she'd pay him just for all the other work he'd been doing around the place.
So, both would still be working for her in the dungeon! She had not, as she'd feared she might, lost two valuable employees. Better still, the increased intimacy this 'training' would foster between them suited Solange's other purposes very well indeed.
Truthfully, Ty's surprisingly intuitive response to the day's crisis was, in large part, why she'd been willing to increase his pay. He'd sensed something was wrong, and had attempted to fix it while striving to stay within the scene's proposed dynamic. Part of that, she thought, was that acting-honed sensitivity he had to the emotions of others around him. Another part was his sense of direction and instinct for improvisation. Finally, and most importantly, once he'd seen that the scene was simply not going to work, he'd taken the responsibility to end it with his safeword.
And then, to Solange's complete amazement, he'd stepped in and provided needed support and caring to the emotionally fragile top. Aftercare was the term most lifestyle players used to describe the reassurance a dominant needed after a particularly demanding and emotional experience - assurance that the other player was fine, still trusted the dominant and would do it again with him/her. In this case, Juana knew she'd messed up and was very upset, but Ty had known precisely what she'd needed, and had given it to her without stinting.
Remarkable.
Solange toasted herself and took a sip of the amber liqueur. Yes, these new arrangements would suit her purposes just fine.
Chapter 12: Rescripting and Dress Rehearsal
They sat together, just two friends sharing a booth in a Greenwich Village coffee-shop. Normally frequented by the members of the theatrical profession, the shop was mostly empty just then. It was early evening, and the usual crowd were at work, preparing to raise curtain at the various theaters nearby. Neither friend said much, but instead cast furtive, fleeting glances at a large leather briefcase that held a prominent place on the table between them.
Finally, they both looked at once, caught each other, and looked away sheepishly.
Ty reached out a hand to cover ShaJuana's. "It's not going to go away," he said with a wry grin, "And I have to admit, I'm curious to know just what Solange thinks is 'everything we might need'. That's why I can't help looking at it, anyway."
"You ain't got x-ray vision to see inside it, Ty, but I get your point," Juana replied, a half smile on her own full lips. "I keep looking 'cause I pretty much know what she thinks is needed. I just don't know how or when or . . . or, hell . . ."
Ty reached up to tip back her face so they were looking into each other's eyes. "Hey, Juana. It's okay. We'll get through this. Look, why don't we just go DO it and have done with it."
"Why, you romantic fool, you!" Juana snorted, but Ty could tell she was using the sarcasm to mask her uncertainties. The one great positive that he had garnered this day was learning, for certain, that Juana wanted him - at least as a D/s playmate, anyway. Likely more than just that, too, if her reaction to the possibility of another Domme training him was any indication.
Ty really hoped that it was. "Juana. I'm as ready as I'm going to be. I mean, hey, I'm still stretched, right? Besides, the longer we wait, the bigger this thing is going to seem to both of us. If 'tis to be done, 'tis better done quickly, to quote the Bard. Speaking of quotes. . . " A wicked grin lit his face, and he finger-beckoned her to lean over the table towards him. A cautious look on her face, she finally complied. Ty leaned over till his lips were near her ear, and putting a hand over them, he whispered, "Hey, you big studdette, take me to bed or. . "
He never got to finish because Juana fell back in her seat laughing like a loon. "Studdette?" she managed to croak out between laughs, causing Ty to whirl about looking anxiously for any one close enough to eavesdrop. "Cripes, you knucklehead, okay, you got it. Let's go for it, 'cause I'd purely hate to lose you forever. My place okay with you?"
"Why, you romantic fool, you," he parroted her earlier complaint, happy that the shop was mostly deserted at that particular moment. Still, he'd made Juana laugh away some of her tension, and that was a good thing.
"Y'know," Ty said as he hefted one of the sturdy metal rings that had been welded on to each side of both the iron head and foot 'boards' of Juana's king-size bed. "I can't tell you how many times I've been in your apartment, but this is the first time I've ever been in your bedroom."
ShaJuana looked up from her inspection of the contents of Solange's 'toy box' and grinned. "Well, if you'd seen those, you'd have learned some things about me that I wasn't ready to tell you."
"Well! I must say that I'm shocked, just shocked, you kinky thing, you."
ShaJuana laughed freely. "Just the reaction I hoped for tonight, Ty. Now you know the real me!"
"I guess I must, Tall-Booty. Well, given what Solange told us to do, I guess I'm supposed to experience these things first hand tonight?"
He saw her go very still, but instantly realized it wasn't the fearful uncertainty she'd evidenced in the boudoir earlier that day. "I know what she said, Ty," Juana began slowly, thoughtfully, "But I'm not so sure that having you tied up right and tight is the best way for us to do this, or the way I want to play this." Quickly she outlined her alternative idea to which Ty readily agreed.
"I guess I need to be naked now, huh?" Ty asked, his face reddening in spite of everything he'd said about being ready.
To his surprise, ShaJuana suddenly became diffident, almost shy. Her coffee-colored cheeks darkened with her own blush, and she actually wrung her hands together. "Umm, Ty? Solange. . . well, that is, she included some of the. . OH HELL!" Whereupon, she stomped over to the case and withdrew two handfuls of white silk, satin and lace. "Would you mind wearing these while we play?" Then she hesitated and added, "Please."
Ty took the proffered material and realized that it was the lingerie - minus the corset - that Solange had used to dress him earlier that very day. Everything else - the under-corset silk camisole, the suspender belt and stockings, even the thong panties - were there. Ty certainly had no problem wearing them, particularly if doing so made this easier on Juana. Then, that little devil on his shoulder whispered in his ear again.
"Sure, Juana," he said easily, and saw her face light up, "On one little condition."
Her face fell, just as he knew it would. Holding back the grin he felt pulling at his face, he waited for her to ask. "What," she demanded with obvious unease, "condition, and HOW little, boy?"
"Oh, nothing much, gorgeous. Just, if I dress like that? YOU dress the same. Fair's fair, after all."
The relief in her smile was a joy to him. It was going to be okay. "Who ever told you that bein' fair has anything to do with a Mistress and her subbie, boy?"
He shrugged elegantly. "I can be naked." Her face fell again, so he began to wheedle. "Ah, c'mon, Juana. GUY here," he said, pointing at himself. "I'm more likely to get excited looking at your lovely body all decked out in lingerie than lying here seeing you in jeans and a t-shirt . . . which is really worth looking at," he added quickly, "but I see that almost every day."
"Good save, Ty-RONE, but who said you were going to get to look at anything?" she replied, as she lifted an eyeless bondage hood from the briefcase.
"Now you're just being cruel."
"Part of the job description, cutie!" she retorted, and pointing at herself, "DOMME here!"
"Okay, okay! Look, you wear lingerie to match mine, promise me no impediments to my visual enjoyment of you gorgeous self, and I will wear the lingerie."
ShaJuana frowned fiercely at him. "I'm the Domme," she declared arrogantly. "I could just order you to wear them."
Grinning, Ty comically minced over to her, went up on tip-toe and air-kissed both ShaJuana's cheeks. "But you won't."
"Fool," she said, half laughing as she walked over to her bureau. "Okay, I won't. This time." Ty watched avidly as she rummaged through a pair of drawers. "I don't have anything sexy in white. . "
"You should - god, but you should," Ty breathed, "Spectacular."
She looked up from her inspection. "You just keep dreaming, boy." Suddenly, her hands stopped moving, and her head snapped back to look intently into that particular drawer. From her bemused expression, it appeared to Ty that she had found something she had not expected, and didn't quite know what to do with whatever that something was.
For several very long moments, she stood there in front of her dresser, staring down at whatever she held in her hands. Then she nodded as if she were agreeing with some decision and looked back at Ty, her eyes narrow and very intense. "Look here, Ty-RONE, what I'm going to show you are my absolute favorite undies, okay? And let me warn you - if you even LOOK like you're laughing? I'll LOCK that damned hood on you. Got that??"
"Got it. No laughing. Promise!"
Very slowly, Juana held up three matching pieces to the light so Ty could see them clearly. The demi-bra, garter belt and thong she held up to him were pink - not just mere pink, but hot, outrageous, glowing PINK! And all Ty could think when he saw them, saw HER in his mind's eye wearing them was, "Oh . . . My . . . God. Forget white, please. Those have GOT to be. . . incredible on you."
She'd prepared herself for the laugh - had expected the laugh. A tall, oversized female like herself? Indulging herself in such a girly, girlish color, as if she was some cute petite little bubble blonde? Hiding her sinfully luscious lingerie in the far back of her panty drawer and allowing herself to enjoy them only when she was alone in her own bedroom? She knew that was laughable.
Only Ty hadn't laughed. In fact, he'd just stared at her, looking almost dazed by the mere thought of her dressed in her special, very personal girl suit. Incredible - he'd SAID she'd look incredible.
She swallowed hard, knowing that sharing this with him would be harder - MUCH harder - than simply strutting about stark naked.
Incredible. He HAD said 'incredible,' hadn't he?
"Ummm," she started, gathering her private treasures to her breast and looking over her shoulder to where he stood watching. "Umm, you can get changed in here. I'll . . . I'll just go slip into something more comfortable in the bathroom."
My god, she thought as she all but ran from the room, did I really just say what I think I just said? How. . . girly.
Slipping silently back into her bedroom, she found Ty, sitting at her vanity, making final touch ups to his face. She felt her heart simply melt and her insides go just a little more gooey. He was making that additional, unasked-for effort - just for her.
As she had for him. She'd brushed out her hair and done her own face after she'd donned her lingerie. Added smoke grey stockings and the heels she'd had dyed to match her secret undies, completing her own costume. When he didn't hear her, she coughed to get his attention.
Ty spun about on the velvet stool and went completely still the instant he saw her. Juana knew she'd remember that look on his face for the rest of her life. Very slowly, he got to his feet and then just looked at her. It took all the will power she possessed to simply stand there, head erect, shoulders back in presentation when every part of her wanted to squirm away or hide from that frank and intense examination.
"Wow," the word came out like a prayer. "God, Juana, I. . . I don't have words. . . I can't. You're . . . my, god, you're. . . " He gave up and shook his head in defeat. "Wow."
If anything, Juana stood even taller, pride swelling her breast and filling her soul. "I think, Ty-RONE," she said softly, pointing to the bulge that was starting to disarrange the delicate gusset of the white thong, "That says all you need to say right now."
But he shook his head. "That's just physical reaction, and yeah, it's real as it gets, but it's not all of it - it's a whole lot more. . ."
Unspeakably moved, she strode over to him and bent down to kiss him. "C'mon, Ty-RONE," she said taking his hand in hers to lead him to her bed. "Let's get started and see if we can do somethin' about that painful-looking swellin' you have goin' down there while we're at it."
"I am utterly at your service, Ma'am."
A husky laugh answered him. "Just as it should be, little man, just as it should be."
"I feel like I'm about to be launched into orbit on the space shuttle," Ty muttered as ShaJuana fiddled the strap about his waist, managing to tighten it another two notches.
The smile she shot him was pure wickedness and all female - it sent chills up and down his spine. "Honey-lamb - that is JUST what I'm fixin' to do here!"
"Seems to me I'm the one in a fix," he shot back. Here he was, flat on his back, but with his butt propped up in the air by this bondage bolster thing Juana had pushed under his hips. The appliance was wedge shaped, making perhaps a thirty degree angle with the bed. It was made of black leather stretched over the type of cushiony filling used in footstools or hassocks. It was sturdy enough to maintain its shape, but soft enough not to be TOO uncomfortable. The end result of this was that he was stuck in a position sort of like a sit-up or abdominal crunch, but with his back still flat on the bed and his butt and hips up in the air. Additionally, it had velcro straps about half way up each side of the wedge that Juana had strapped around his thighs just above his knees. When she pulled these tight, his knees were pulled up and apart, causing his butt to be pulled further up off the wedge. The end result of this was that his ass was pointed toward the ceiling and was easily accessible to ShaJuana's wicked intentions.
"I thought you said no restraints?"
"No, I said I didn't want to tie up your hands, and besides," she said as she smacked his upturned butt eliciting a yelp from Ty, "this part isn't for bondage - it's for convenience. Since your hands will really be free, you can undo it anytime you want," she smirked down at him, "if you decide to wimp out."
He snorted at that idea. "Explain this 'bound by the power of your will' bit to me again, please? Just so I understand."
Juana sighed, but walked around to the other side of the bed so there was room for her to sit down. "Basically, when I do this with a client or play-partner, I order him to hold on to the binding straps and restrain himself from moving, okay? If this were a usual scene, any time you broke contact, you'd earn you a punishment — maybe a swat or two, or a hooding. That's not what I want now, though, because, well . . ." she stopped, choosing her words with more care than she was ordinarily given to doing. "Look, Ty, you're just not the ordinary, run of the mill guy I play these games with, okay? First, you are not really a D/s player - you didn't come to the dungeon needing to submit yourself to a strong dominant woman. You're learning to play, and I think you like at least some of it, but that's really not where you're at. So this scene I'm planning may not turn out to be something you'll enjoy. Some guys just can't handle it. That can be, well, really painful for everyone involved. If you find you can't handle this, I want you to be able to stop me — physically, if that's what it takes. Okay?"
Ty nodded his understanding. "It sounded like you had another reason, too."
Taking a deep breath, Juana nodded. "I do. Ty, I wasn't kidding this morning when I said I want you this way. I really do, and the wanting's damned intense. So I'm doing this to give you a way to reel me in if I get going too hot and heavy too quickly. Letting go gives you a sort of physical 'yellow light' code in case you need me to ease back. You just let go. I'll either notice, and slow down or stop what I'm doing for a minute. If I don't notice, you can reach out and touch me where ever you can reach me until I notice. Finally, as I said, if I don't notice even then, you can start unstrapping yourself, which I guarantee I will notice." She reached out to finger-stroke an unruly lock of hair from his eyes. "Okay with that?"
"Sounds like a plan. Good thing I'm still supple from my high school wrestling days, though."
"Ready to start?"
His grin was infectious. "Yes, please," he replied in the pompous, overdone British accent of their first play together. "Do carry on."
"Smart-ass," she laughed, and then became stern. "Bind yourself to my will, little man, and prepare to go into orbit."
"Yes, Mistress."
"What does my sweetie think of my toys, now?" Juana cooed as she held up the last of the dildos Solange had provided in the toy-box. They both recognized that one from their time in the dungeon's bridal suite. Juana held the toy to her cheek and lovingly stroked it up and down "This is Long Tom. He's an honest eight inches long and almost six inches around. ALL my girlie-boys learn to LOVE Long Tom," she smiled wickedly as she passed it before his wide eyes. "I just KNOW you'll love him, too, cutie."
Maybe he wasn't quite as ready as he'd thought. Unable to stop himself, Ty tracked the movement of that purple beast as ShaJuana completed the dildo-display she'd prepared from the contents of the case. Counting the purple Long Tom, there were now seven sex-toys on the bedside table next to Ty's head. Arranged in the order she'd pulled them out of the case, they were also in order of increasing size. They reminded Ty of a historic display of full-size ICBM models he'd seen during a tour of an Air Force base when he'd been in high school. That was not a comforting comparison.
The smallest toy on the table was one of those butt-plug things - like the one Solange had pushed on him - in him? - that morning. Without any reference to judge its size, Ty guessed it was about the same as the one he'd already endured. At least, he hoped it was about that size. Otherwise, he didn't even want to THINK about having those other toys work their way up his back door! The next was another plug - about the same length, but thicker at the widest part. The one following the second plug was much longer than either of those toys, maybe six inches in total, but narrower - no more than the thickness of his thumb at it's widest point. After that one, there were two of what even he recognized as vibrators. They were both a little shorter than the smooth thing but a clearly bigger around. The jet black dildo just before Long Tom was another 'life-like' toy. It was about the same length and girth as the larger vibrator, and it made Long Tom was made all the more imposing when Juana set the purple toy down next to it.
Long Tom had to be at least two inches taller and half again thicker than the black fake dick. The comparison made Ty's bottom clench just from looking at them. And Juana said he was going to LOVE that thing? He might love doing a Lorena Bobbitt impression on it, but not much else!
Juana saw the dismayed look on his face, and held back the laugh. Got your attention now, Ty, she thought, her Domme juices starting to bubble. Now you're going to find out what it takes to be MY subbie, boy!
She made a show of snapping a latex glove onto her right hand before picking up a plastic tube and squeezing its contents out with her left. "You're gonna LOVE this stuff, little man," she told him as she spread the goop about her gloved hand with her ungloved one. "It's heat activated so when I rub it all over your cute lil' ass, it will start getting warm and slick. You are gonna SHINE tonight, sweetcheeks, trust me!"
Ty flinched and clenched when she ran one slick finger along the crack of his buttocks. "Now, you know that ain't gonna do you no good," she said sweetly, repeating the movement with her next finger and then the next. "I got all night, and those poor ass muscles are just gonna give out long time before my fingers will." She squeezed more lube onto the upper most part of his elevated butt, and continued her surprisingly gentle strokes.
Whether it was surrender to the inevitable, the promised tiring of over-strained muscles, or his own determination to see this through, Ty quickly gave in, allowing Juana to begin massaging the ointment fully into his ass crack. The almost feathery strokes and sensual warmth of the lubricant were having another effect, too.
Ty was getting harder — so hard his penis popped out the side of his thong - and ShaJuana noticed. "Ooooo, well lookie here, cutie-buns. Somebody must like getting his little bottie played with. . ." she sang, as she began stroking the hot, hard length of him in her greasy left hand in time with her right hand's ass-play.
Ty opened his pleasure-fogged eyes to realize that the head of his erect cock was less than a foot from his head, and Juana was aiming it right at his face. Oh, no, he thought, and gripped the leather straps more tightly and tried to pull himself closer to the head of the bed and away from the head of his increasingly aroused hardon.
"Goin' someplace, cutie?" Juana asked sweetly, her smirk knowing.
What little movement he managed did nothing to change his situation. The seatbelt that held his hips to that bolster simply slid as his upper body slid. Moving up in the bed did nothing to change his head's position relative to the head of his primed and loaded erection.
Well, it didn't take a genius to figure out what that meant. He was gonna get a face-full if Juana had anything to say about it - which she obviously did. Ty stole a furtive glance up at the wicked grin lighting her face and revised his estimate. He'd be getting a mouthful. Sneaky bitch. You had to love that about her.
Ty was so caught up in trying to hold back the coming eruption that he almost missed the quick insertion of one long finger into his butt.
Operative word is 'almost'. His torso heaved at the invasion, like an untrained horse trying to throw its first rider. All that did was seat the finger deeper. Ty felt like an electric current was running between his ass and every nerve ending on his penis. Futilely, he tried to buck into her hand stroking his erection, trying to increase the feathery friction that was beginning to drive him mad.
Only to have her hands - both of them disappear. Dazed, on the verge of climax, Ty only registered that he was just short of what he needed to finish and didn't see what Juana was up to. An instant later, he didn't need to see as something hard and unyielding slid into his ass in one smooth movement. He did shriek this time when his sphincter stretched to accommodate the toy's widest point, and clamped down on the narrow neck of the toy.
"God damn it, Jua. . I mean, Mistress, I was so . . . so close. . " he groaned as he looked up at her grinning face.
With the grace of the dancer she was, Juana lifted her right leg so that she straddled him, her left foot on the floor, her right knee resting on the bed. Sitting her butt down on his stomach, she ran the index finger of her still slippery left hand across his upper lip. "That's good, Ty, that's really good." Then she bent over to kiss his nose before smirking into his face, eye to eye. "Good for me, but maybe not so good for you. I LIKE that you are ready to cum so early into our little game. Knowing I've got you RIGHT THERE at that edge makes me really hot, but ya wanna know a secret?" Ty nodded, careful not to head-butt her for her face was that close to his own. Her eyes danced with wicked delight as she leaned further to put her lips right up against one of his ears. "I'm not gonna let you cum," she whispered, her breath hot on his skin. She sat back up, arching her back like a satisfied cat, and purred, "I'm gonna keep you up and keep you up till you're beggin' for relief."
She hopped up off the bed. "And you know what I'll say to that beggin', sweet-cheeks? I'll say 'no'. You're gonna be like this, right on the tippy edge, needin' to cum - DYIN' to cum . . all . . . night . . . long!" She reached up and gave his only slightly less rigid penis a teasing stroke and earned another groan from Ty. "Won't that be FUN?"
"NO!" he grumbled back, and hurriedly added, "Mistress!" when the next stroke became a warning squeeze.
"Well, if you're gonna be that way about it. I know! How 'bout this? I'll let you cum if you can sneak it by me. That's a good deal, boy. I punish my other sissy boys for cumming without permission, but I'll let YOU go if you can manage to cum. But there's just this one, teensie little thing. . ."
He couldn't help himself. He was so caught up in the drama they'd created, he had to ask. "What, Mistress?"
"Boys never cum when I'M working them unless I let them cum or unless I make them cum. Other than that? It's blue-balls city for all the guy subbies in Juana's little town! I'm real good at this teasin' stuff, so get ready for a long, LONG night, sugar!"
Then she spun on her toes and considered the display of sex-toys on the bedside table. She picked up the larger of the two vibrators and the strange, long narrow toy. "We're gonna play a game! I call it, 'Pick your own poison!'" With all the flair of one of Barker's Beauties from 'The Price is Right', she displayed each of the two toys individually in front of Ty's face, and then hid them behind her back. The motion of her arms and shoulders gave the indication that she was shuffling the toys between her hands. Then she stopped. "Pick a hand, any hand, and you get what you pick!"
With a few minutes of relief from Juana's sensual assault, Ty grew marginally more alert and aware of his surroundings.
"C'mon, boy, play with me! Which hand?"
A grin lit his face as he took in where she was standing, and then he nodded to her right hand. "That one - the one in your right hand," he said.
Juana brought the indicated hand forward with a wild flourish to reveal the long, narrow toy. "Ta-Da! You win!"
Ty chuckled. "Didn't matter which hand I picked - you'd already decided which one I'd get."
Her sexy grin faltered, and Juana nearly frowned. "Did not - you got what you chose, fair and square!"
"Did so!" Ty retorted, in a tone that any big sister with a little brother would instantly recognize."
She actually stamped her foot and pouted at him. "DID NOT!" she yelled, her demeanor all little girl foiled in her schemes.
"I guess you haven't ever played this game in this room. Look behind you." Juana looked over her shoulder and he continued. "You're standing in front of your bedroom door mirror, and you're tall enough I could see your reflection between your legs. I saw you switch it into that hand after I picked it - so THERE!" and damned if he could stop himself - he stuck his tongue out at her.
"SMARTASS! That's not FAIR!"
"Who said what's fair between a Mistress and a sub?"
"YOU have to be fair, that's the rule! I'm the Domme and I make the rules!"
Ty started singing in his best Barry Manilow voice, "I am Mistress, and I make the rules."
For several seconds, Juana simply stared at him, unable to move. When she did, it was to sent the two toys down and go to the case. She extracted another latex glove and more of the lubricant. "Hmmph. . . well, smartass, if you aren't going to play right, I'm gonna have to punish your tight little ass."
Her tone hadn't changed all that much - still outraged eight-year-old who didn't get her pony for her birthday, so Ty wasn't TOO worried about the punishment. She donned the glove and lubricated her fingers copiously returning to her place immediately beside the bolster so she had easy access to his groin and his butt with each hand.
The plug popped out easily enough, and he took the two fingers she slid into him without trouble. Gently stroking her fingers in and out of him, Juana wiggled their tips about on each downstroke as if searching for something. "You would have enjoyed my last game, but you had to play mean!"
Suddenly, Ty's cock jumped, earning a pleased grin from Juana. She repeated the movement, and was rewarded when it jumped again. "Now, I've got you!" she said, triumph ringing in her voice. Moments later, Ty was surprised to see milky liquid leaking from his cock - little dribbles that came out in time to Juana's stroking. Strangely, while what she was doing didn't really hurt, it didn't feel all that good either. There was nothing of the intense, almost mind blending arousal of their earlier play. In fact, his hard-on was wilting , even as his seminal fluid slowly dribbled out.
"Did you know, smartass, that by massaging your prostate, like this?" and she gave a sudden twist of her fingers that cause a mini-spurt to erupt, "I can drain all your sexual juices out of your body, but you won't really cum. And after you're all empty? If you haven't recharged and try to cum? You're gonna shoot a blank, but your poor dickie will keep trying to push out stuff that just ain't there. My subbies tell me it's like your cock has the dry heaves. Not much fun, little man! That's why it's one of my favorite punishments for naughty little sissy boys who sass their Mistress! Are YOU going to keep sassin' me, Tina?
Ty swallowed very hard, and tried for a suitably remorseful look. "No, Mistress. I'm sorry for not playing fair. Honest."
Chapter 13: Opening Night!
Certain she'd made her point, Juana returned her full attention to driving her playmate nuts. She teased Ty mercilessly, holding him right on the ragged cusp of climax. At the same time, she was carefully, steadily 'breaking him in'; guiding him to the point where he was more than just willing, he was eager for the anal sex play.
Juana was, indeed, very, very good at keeping him on the very edge of orgasm. More than that, the denial play made her very hot - just as she'd warned him. A fact that became abundantly clear to Ty as he grew increasingly aware of a sweet, musky scent perfuming the air that his hormones told him was essence of aroused woman That alone almost got him off. Almost.
ShaJuana had thought it was the intensity her teasing that almost got him. "Ooo, like THAT, did you? You're what we in the business call a hot-ass, little man, and I'm gonna get old Long Tom in you, yet." At that moment, the muscle spasms that signaled his imminent climax started. "Hey, hey, HEY! You don't think I'm gonna let you cum YET, do you?" she demanded as she gave him 'the pinch', completely unaware that is was her own pleasure driving Ty crazy. "Oh, yeah, that slowed you down, didn't it?"
He learned to hate that little pinch move of hers as the night wore on. Whenever she'd sensed the onset of his climax, she would press her thumb against the underside of his cock at it's base. It was like someone put a cork in his spigot and then driven it in with a bung hammer.
However, if he'd had time to think, hell, if he'd been able to think, Ty would have thought that this wasn't bad at all. Well, assuming he finally got off, it wasn't. There had been that one time he'd had to use his free hands to stop her - because she'd been so into her scene.
Juana had been working him over using both vibrators - one aft, one forward - and the intense, unrelenting stimulation with no release finally got to him. He'd started to hyperventilate, which had been exacerbated by his body's semi-inverted position. With the weight of his lower body pressing downward against his chest, he hadn't been able to unload his diaphragm and that large muscle had begun to cramp. Ty had reached out to tap her, but she'd been too gone into Top Space. Flinging his arm out, he'd reached between her legs to grab a handful of muscular buttock and then pulled. She'd nearly fallen, but had managed to catch herself. Seeing the problem, she'd immediately dropped her toys and begun to massage the cramping muscle. Ty had regained his breath quickly enough.
Then, a very concerned Juana had knelt down beside him, taking his chin her her hand so she could look in his eyes. "Are you okay, Ty? Do we need to stop? Do you WANT to stop?"
"Are you done, Juana? Have you done everything you set out to do? Everything you NEED to do?" He'd seen the answer in her eyes, and smiled. "I hate to repeat myself, but I am utterly at your service, Ma'am."
Tears had glittered in her eyes, and her smile had been brilliant, "As it should be, my dear, dear little man."
Time loses meaning when you are at the edge of the precipice staring down into insanity, Ty thought with what little of his brain still working. His body was exhausted, too. Hell, even his eyelids felt like his lashes were laced with lead.
And yet, his dick was still just fine and dandy, except for being so hard that using it might get him five to twenty in the state penitentiary for assault with a blunt instrument. A bleary eyed glance over at the weapons table told him that 'Long Tom' had entered the fray. . .or was that, had entered him? Whatever. Felt pretty good, too.
But when those painfully tired muscles again started the ball-tightening spasms that signaled the imminency of release, Ty knew he'd reached the limits of his endurance. He felt Juana's hand sliding down him to the 'pinch-position' and he lost it.
His right arm swung out from his voluntary bondage, grabbing her from behind, curling around her left leg and pulling her to him. Juana, taken by surprise, was pulled off balance and found herself falling onto the bed, her face towards Ty's groin. Scrambling to regain her balance, she ended up straddling him.
Ty found himself face to face with the very wet gusset of Juana's hot pink thong, and she smelled like heaven. There was only one thing a guy in his position could do and Ty did it. Juana felt strong hands grab her hips and pull her back until she was sitting on Ty's face. An instant later, her panties were brushed aside and she was being devoured.
She was the one sent into orbit as her first orgasm went off like a sky-rocket. Marvelous though that release was? It hardly touched the fires that two hours of non-stop foreplay with this man had stoked in her core. It did take the edge off, though, and she realized she would be damned if that sneak was going get the better of HER! She fell on his over-stimulated cock, mouth first, swallowing him whole while unleashing the full power of the toy still lodged in his ass.
The orgasm they built together was going to be epic - both knew it, and both fought that inevitable explosion with all their will power. Partly to make it even greater, partly to win this battle to get the other off first. Finally, neither won, and neither lost, and their world dissolved into a maelstrom of light, heat, pleasure.
And love.
And then their world went black.
He started to awaken when he felt the warm comfort of her body on his leave him. The sound of the velcro straps on his leg being ripped open and the feeling of the last toy being gently slipped from his backside finished the job. His brain somehow managed to convince his hands to unbuckle the 'seatbelt' that held him to that bolster. He rolled off it but couldn't quite manage getting up from the bed. That was okay, he decided, and kicked the bolster to the floor to make more room.
He opened his eyes and was pleased to discover he could still see. That was good - great even - being able to see in a world that included the tantalizing ShaJuana Price was a very good thing indeed. In fact, he needed to see her right then! A quick scan of the room found her putting the toys back into the case.
She saw him watching her and smiled at him. "We'll have to clean these up, but that can wait 'til tomorrow. I'm just too beat right now."
"Not too beat, I hope," Ty replied, his eyes hopeful. "I want more of you, Juana."
The smile that lit her face was magical, and brought with it some of the cockiness he so enjoyed about her. "Don't you even think you're leaving that bed, Ty-RONE. I ain't even half done with you, yet."
He started to get up anyway, only to have ShaJuana plant both hands squarely on the chest, and push him back down onto the bed. "My pants - I have protection . . ."
He never finished because ShaJuana pounced on him, pinning him to the bed so she could lick his face like a hungry cat. "Forget about the damned condoms, boy. I'm on the pill."
The kiss she planted on him melted what was left of his mind.
Dawn's first pink rays were peaking through the bedroom window shades. Ty rolled over and gathered Juana's long, lithe frame to his, making sure to brush the 'V' of her bare bosom with his morning beard. The responding shiver and the giggle delighted him. "Juana? You awake? Think we need to do the wedding night thing tomorrow for Solange, Tall-booty?"
Evidently not a morning person, Juana growled like a panther, and rolled over to hide her head beneath her pillow. "Shut up and go back to sleep, little man. You can't possibly be thinking about more sex - any kind of sex - not before next month at least."
Ty considered that for a moment, and then tapped her on the shoulder, "Uh, Juana?"
"WHAT?!?" she snarled in tones that would have sent lesser men scurrying for cover - or hiding beneath them.
"I'm more than thinking and it's gonna be a lot sooner than next month. . ." he murmured, nibbling his way the back of her neck to that spot he'd found JUST behind her ear.
"Huh?" she mumbled, confused, her brain about two seconds behind her body. "Ooooo YEaaaah. Shit, Ty! I'm gonna . . .damn. . .get you bunny ears and a damned. . oh yeah . . .just like that . . damned drum . . ."
"Later. . . you can do that. . Later."
"Mmmmmm, okay. later. . .
"TY!!!!"
Interlude - Another Family Evening at Home.
She was seated in her hand-carved mahogany throne, thoughtfully thumbing through a glossy pamphlet. A cheery fire danced in the gas hearth, casting magical shadows in the otherwise dark room. At her feet knelt a man, nude except for a mob cap, a lace apron and six-inch stiletto heels, his head resting happily in her lap.
Absently, she stroked him as she thought about what she'd learned earlier that day. Tyrone and ShaJuana had gotten past the near disaster caused by her short-sighted planning, and had experienced the magic that came only when two people connected spiritually and emotionally as well as physically.
She wondered if either of them realized just how far they'd come in the short time both had been in her employ. Probably not. Juana still thought she was going to be the exclusive top in that relationship, with Ty bottoming to her as a matter of course. If Juana were thinking objectively about their night's activity, she'd realize that the power had been exchanged back and forth between the two of them several times. But, she reminded herself, a woman in love is never objective. It was a happy thought, and she leaned over to kiss the forehead of her slave.
Of course, Ty was no more objective than ShaJuana, and even more clueless as to the reasons why. That was to be expected, she smiled inwardly. For all his incredible empathy and sensitivity, his ability to take on the most feminine of roles without any apparent flaw, Tyrone Edwards was still just a man. Well, an exemplary example of that breed, if Juana's goofy smile and giddy spirits were anything to judge by, but a man nonetheless.
The most important thing she'd learned today was the reason behind Ty's determination to become her dungeon's full-time transvestite switch. After they'd spoken, she'd made some discreet inquiries, and had obtained the pamphlet she'd been playing with. It explained a good many things, particularly why he was willing to take on that abortive scene the other day. The cost would be steep.
"Slave?" she said softly.
He reacted as if a Paris Island Drill Instructor had called him to attention, and snapped into the at-attention position she'd taught him - back straight, eyes looking directly in front of him, hands finger-locked behind his neck, and on his knees. She smiled as she saw his penis begin to erect, simply because he was obeying her, and presenting himself to her. After all these years, she thought. Well, she was a woman in love, too, wasn't she?
She handed him the pamphlet. "What can you tell me about this place?" she asked, softly.
He glanced at the crest on the front page, and then looked back to his Mistress. "Good place, Mistress. Most all of the real professionals in the business went there or taught there. There's a TV show on one of the cable channels where the head of the school interviews graduates who've made it big and gives their current student body a chance to ask questions."
"Did you attend there? she asked.
"No, Mistress, but then I'm really just an enthusiastic amateur. I get my name on the posters and on the adverts, but I'm only the guy with the money."
"I can't recall you ever being involved in a failure, slave, so I would say you undervalue yourself. That undervalues me, so don't do it again!"
He blushed - all over his body. "I didn't mean it like that, Mistress. Oh, I seem to have a feeling for what the public will like because I'll only back stuff that I like, but I couldn't do the real work that makes the shows great. That's what I meant."
She reached over to pat his head, and was rewarded with the look of utter adoration she found nowhere else. "So you say. I have a friend, slave, who would like to attend this place, and I would like to help him. Do you have contacts at this institution who might help us give this person something like an anonymous scholarship?"
He shrugged. "I think so, Mistress. Heck, I could endow a scholarship - put it in your name with the only stipulation that this person be the first winner. I probably should do something like that anyway because it would be good for the business."
"You could do that? They'd go along?"
"I might have to sweeten the pot a little - you know, commit to having five of their students on every project as interns, but yes, if you want me to do that, I promise they'll go along, Mistress."
"If it is possible and reasonable to do from a business perspective, then yes, I'd like you do that for me."
He nodded, a most peculiar motion with his hands behind his neck and his bent arms extended like wings. "I'll get on it. Should have the preliminary arrangements complete by the end of the week."
She was so happy, she launched herself from her chair and tackled him. He easily caught her, and ensured he took the brunt of the fall as they ended up on the floor with her on top. She kissed him deeply, hugging him tightly. "Thank you, darling," she said softly.
"It is entirely my pleasure, Mistress."
The warm glow of twenty seven years of love bubbled up in her, and she kissed her man, her slave again, more tenderly this time. "I think," she said softly, "It's about time you carried me up to bed, slave. After that, I want you to go to your room and find my husband for me. I feel like making love long into the night and his presence is required."
"Yes, Mistress," her hubby-subbie breathed reverently. "I'd be very happy to do that for you."
Chapter 14: As Maitresse Likes It
Solange made her way to the dais with the slow, measured elegance the common folks would expect from the Queen of the Nile. She had been very particular about the placement of the small stage in the dungeon's large, second-floor ballroom. She wanted to be able to see and be seen by all of her guests, and clearly, that goal had been achieved. By the time she reached center stage and took up the microphone, all conversation had stopped and every eye was fixed on her.
With a royal flourish, she set aside the cane and flogger she carried in lieu of Pharaoh's crook and flail royal scepters, and raised the handheld microphone as if to speak. For several moments, she simply stood there silently, scanning the assembled guests - her subjects - before beginning her address. "Mistresses and slaves, tops and bottoms, honored guests, it is time to begin what we hope will be the highlight of this year's festivities."
From her position off to the side of the dais, Tina studied the two hundred or so attendees, seeing their attention completely focused on Solange in her personal interpretation of Queen Nefertiti. They were, she thought, a very mixed bag of folks, at least insofar as their varied modes of attire were concerned.
Certainly, all the professional Dominas associated with the dungeon were in some type of costume. Solange would have insisted in any case, but her intervention hadn't been necessary. To a woman, they all enjoyed being the center of attention too much to miss the chance to strut their stuff at a party. If there was a dominant female fantasy figure not represented by these ladies, Tina mused, it must be pretty esoteric - like maybe a dominant bitch-nerd or some such. Certainly all the more common fantasies were in full evidence - everything from a very wicked looking nurse to a dauntingly stern schoolmarm (yardstick at the ready!). Not to mention Queen Nefertiti, up there on the dais, in full makeup, golden headdress and crown. Okay, so maybe the real Egyptian Queen didn't wear black silk or high heeled sandals, but hey, if the fantasy took some liberties with historical accuracy, Solange's costume and presentation were WORTH it.
Most of the males in attendance had eschewed costumes, with the notable exception of those lifestyle submissives who were there to 'escort' to their individual owners/Mistresses. There were a couple of leashed 'dogs' and one really buff Chippendale, but Tina thought the one dressed as Cupid, complete to his tiny wings, even tinier diaper and toy bow and arrow, was particularly cute. The pony-boy in his harness, bit and blinders was pretty impressive. too, but she wondered precisely what kept that tail in place. Never ask a question to which you couldn't be sure you REALLY wanted to learn the answer, up close and very personal. That was now her motto - at least since she'd come to work for Solange.
There were also a couple of cross-dressed slaves in full drag-queen regalia. Their apparently intentional ineptitude gave Tina cause to wonder if anyone in the crowd had read or was reading her? Probably, she mused — but more likely by the genetic women in the crowd than the men. A couple of the unattached males had already hit on her. Her leather equestrienne outfit was pretty hot, if she did say so herself, but it did tend to draw the type who wanted to be on the receiving end of her dressage whip. How, she wondered, were you supposed to 'beat them off with a stick' if being beaten was their whole purpose in being here? Challenges, challenges, she was always dealing with these little challenges.
Most of male guests and clients were dressed in suits and ties, or in formal black-tie evening wear. She wondered what would happen to all those spiffy clothes if the opportunity to play presented itself. Locked up in one of the prep rooms, probably, because good D/s play tended to get a little messy at times.
There were also a few women in attendance who were not costumed - again mostly they were garbed in elegant evening wear - and they were, to a woman, the escort of one of the members of the mundanely dressed male client group. Wives or significant others, she thought, coming to see what hubby or SO really wants in the bedroom? Maybe.
However, if there were a prize for tonight's 'outstanding costume?' Tina decided that she'd have to declare the contest a dead heat between Solange and ShaJuana.
Juana was currently prowling about the ballroom dressed as a sleek, black panther - a hungry sexual predator on the hunt for her favorite prey. The latex body suit she wore blended almost perfectly with her own coffee-colored skin tone, giving the casual observer the first impression she was nude. Tina wondered how anyone could see that magnificent female animal in all her glory and not start howling at the moon? She certainly felt that urge just now.
Juana's hands sported fingerless gloves made to look like cat's paws, and that showed off her off blood red nails, errr. . .claws. A bold tail curled up from her bottom (and Tina thought it unlikely that it was 'connected' in the same manner as the pony's had been) and a pair of alert cat's ears peaked through her wildly teased mane hair. White face paint and lipstick gave the illusion of a sexy feline muzzle that curled into a very scary grin. Just looking at her made Tina's hands sweat and her mouth go dry.
"Have I got your attention?" Solange called out. A few voices yelled out in the affirmative. "Good! When each of you presented your invitation at the door tonight, you might have noticed that we peeled your name off the invitation and put it into hollow plastic balls - much like this one."
She held up a purple colored sphere, about two inches in diameter. "Now, we're going to have a drawing, and the winners of the drawing are going to have a chance to win a free, full day session at the dungeon, without regard to cost. You want my six sexiest dommes taking turns using your butt for spanking practice? You'll have them! You want to run the gauntlet of every playroom in the house, spending an hour in each room as the honored guest of a different Mistress? It'll happen! You want the chance to hone your bound naked wrestling skills and take on a Mistress tag team with one hand - or perhaps both hands - tied behind your back? You'll get it! You want to be one to dominate that special Domina who has driven you to the point of insanity when you were HER submissive? She'll be there and be yours."
She let the buzz of excited chatter build throughout the room before giving them the rest. "Hey, now you all just calm down for a second! I didn't say the drawing winners would get the prizes - I said they'd get the chance to win - there's a big difference!"
"What would we have to do to win?" a voice called from the back of the room.
"Why, escape from my Hall of Horrors within three minutes of entering."
"What is it? A mile long?"
Solange laughed at that, and shook her head. "No, silly - it takes up barely half the dungeon level - no more that a couple hundred feet or so. Each of the four lucky contestants will enter on one side, and if he or she escapes out the other side in under the time limit, then we'll have a winner!"
Skepticism was clear on many of the male clients' faces, Tina saw. They must know Solange pretty well, she thought amused.
"Can't be that easy!" a voice called out finally.
"Easy, who said anything about easy? Who would DARE expect anything easy in MY dungeon? Puuhh-Lease," Solange sniffed, earning an uneasy laugh from the males in the group and a heartier one from the dominant women. "I will say, however, that there are three ways to win and three ways to lose. That's as fair as it gets, right?"
She let that thought hang for a few moments, and then, smiling wickedly, she continued. "Here's the basic premise. The player - that is, the person with the chance to win the free session of a lifetime - he or she isn't going to be in there alone. Oh, no! There will traps set for the unwary intended to slow them down, or to capture them completely. There will also be at least one of my Mistresses in there, too, with the expressed goal of capturing the player, or at the very least, preventing the player from exiting my Hall of Horrors within the three minute time limit. She captures the player if she gets him or her down on the floor and holds them there for a count of ten." Solange grin became wider. "Note, I said a ten-count, not ten seconds. I'll be doing the counting."
That earned more laughter, just as she'd intended - some hearty, some anxious. "If the player is captured," 'Nefertiti' continued, "Or if the player doesn't escape within three minutes, he has already given consent, by agreeing to compete in the first place, to belonging to the victorious Mistress - or Mistresses," she said, put heavy emphasis on the plurality, "For the rest of the evening. Just so you all know? Each of these specially selected huntresses of the night have spent the last week preparing a VERY special challenge play scene for the lucky winner. . .I mean, loser."
"Hey, wait a minute," a female voice demanded. "That sounds like two ways to lose and only one way to win."
"So it is. Okay, if the player manages to capture the Mistress before the three minutes are up the player wins. All a player has to do to capture the Mistress is take HER to the floor and hold her down for a ten-count without her escaping the hold AND without the three minute alarm sounding. In addition to his prize, winning by capture includes getting the losing Mistress as his or her submissive, or as a topped from the bottom Domme, for the rest of the evening. So that's two ways to win and two ways to lose. Everybody got that so far?"
The crowd's vocal response was generally affirmative, so Solange smiled and continued. "The other way to win is to complete the challenge play scene with the victorious Mistress before the stroke of midnight without safewording. Since these Mistresses and scenes will be the result of a completely random drawing, we realize a player may get a scene that might violate personal limits. We will, as we always do, honor anyone's safeword. However, safewording only stops the challenge scene - that player will still lose the challenge, which will entail an additional forfeit."
"That sounds a lot like being punished for safewording, Maitresse," one of the tuxedo-garbed men asked. "That's not fair!"
"You might well take it that way, and if you truly DO feel that way, I suggest you decline to participate if I select your name out of the basket. These will not be normal play sessions, my friends. These are challenge sessions. For a prize of this magnitude, there has to be a comparable price," Solange said seriously.
"Does the player win the Mistress if he just escapes?" Someone called out.
"Of course not," Solange's tones were caustically dismissive. "You want to own a Mistress, even for a night? You have to capture her, but she wins the contestant by either method."
"NOT FAIR!" someone in the back yelled out.
"And your point is?" Solange asked, her voice all saccharine-sweet, earning a mostly feminine laugh and a deep flush from her accuser. "My game - my rules. Play or don't play, it makes no difference to me! Any other questions?"
One of the Dominas that Tina did not recognize stepped forward, pulling a leashed male costumed as a very ugly dog behind her. "Before I'd order Muffy here take that kind of challenge, Solange, I need specifics on the forfeit. I don't mind another Mistress putting him through his paces, but I normally insist on being the one to evaluate his use of his safeword - after a little time for emotions to cool, and in the privacy of our home."
"Fair enough. First, let me tell you that I have personally screened all proposed scenes to ensure that physical injury is NOT an issue. Sitting down comfortably afterwards may be, but not injury. All right?" A general murmur answered that question but Tina couldn't tell if it was positive nor negative when Solange pressed on, "If a player accepts the challenge, enters the Hall of Horrors and then safewords at any point before they've completed the challenge, we will lock the player in a gender appropriate chastity device and return their clothing to him or her. The key to the chastity device lock will ONLY be given to the player when he or she decides to leave the party for the evening. Once they have the key, he or she won't be allowed to return to the dungeon until Thanksgiving, when all the contestants, and their significant others, will be the guests of the dungeon for our holiday dinner and other festivities."
"So the forfeiture means no sexual release for the losing player until after leaving here?" the Mistress holding 'Muffy's' leash asked, sounding almost hopeful to Tina's ears.
"That's the plan. Once all four contestants have made their attempts, the other playrooms will be open and monitored for safety, as we always do for one of our parties. Challenge losers will be allowed to stay as long as they want, and they, like any other guest, will be able to watch the fun, but participating might be frustrating and uncomfortable for them."
Cupid raised his hand, and Solange acknowledged his Mistress, who gave him permission to speak. "Maitresse, any clues as to what the challenge scenes will entail?"
"An excellent question, dear. Not to give you too much information, but we will have a scene involving a truly whole-body massage, guaranteed by the Mistress in charge to send the loser out of body. There will also be a corporal punishment challenge, one involving an extended teasing and denial session, and last but not least, a very special slave scavenger hunt. That's all I will say for now. If that's not enough information for you, again, I must suggest that you decline to participate."
"As if I'd let him wimp out like that," the Mistress standing beside him retorted before giving him a fierce look.
"If there are no other questions," Solange said, "Shall we get on with the drawing?"
"Sounds fair enough."
"Okay with me."
"When do we start?"
"Ought to be fun!"
"Can't wait to see what happens!"
"Hope you get selected, Muffy!"
"Arf, arf, arf!"
"All right, then. Mistress ShaJuana, would you do the honors and pick the first name, please?" Solange called, picking up a large bag from the floor beside her.
ShaJuana skulked up to the dais, every sensuous step emulating the great cat she portrayed. Once there, she snarled at the audience, and then proceeded to pull a single ball from the bag. She handed Solange the ball, and stepped back to watch the rest of the selections play out. Solange set it down on the table, and opened it up. "Oh, my," she breathed, and then called out, "James Harris, will you accept the challenge?"
Tina almost giggled at the goggle-eyed young man. Then he swallowed hard. "Ummm, yes, I guess. ummm, Maitresse."
"Come, come, James - yes or no. This is no time to be wishy-washy. Do you accept my challenge or not?"
There wasn't a man in the room, submissive or otherwise, who could have ignored the nearly derisive tone in Solange's voice. "Yes, Ma'am, I accept.
Harris was then ordered to approach the dais and select the next ball. Solange grimaced extravagantly as she read the slip of paper she held up after opening the ball. "Hmmmm, I'm not sure I want to offer this one, since he's MY slave, and it would annoy me greatly for HIM to dictate his next scene with me, or to dare to attempt top me." She made a show of crumpling up the paper and looking around for a trash basket, then grinned. "Oh well, fair is fair. Walter Evans, do you wish to accept the challenge?"
This was the one, Tina realized, the one Solange wanted to challenge. She saw the hesitancy in his eyes, but she also saw the hunger. Empathy, along with a well-honed instinct for the right line delivered for best effect took hold of her. "Looks like he's either too happy with your current attentions, Solange, or too afraid of your wrath," Tina said lightly, but loudly enough to be clearly heard throughout the crowded room. "Perhaps you should select another in his stead?"
Her jibe struck home, for Solange's sub flushed bright red, and then blurted out, "I accept, Maitresse."
"Oh, very well." Solange accepted with apparent disappointment, before offering the bag to Evans for him to select the next candidate. " And our next contestant is," she hesitated for effect, "Victor Davis. Mr. Davis, do you accept the challenge?"
There was an uncomfortably long silence answering Solange's challenge. Tina thought he was going to say 'no' because the look he gave Solange revealed none of the fear and/or excitement she'd sensed from first two winners. Then he shrugged, squared his shoulders and said in a very steady voice. "Yes, I'll accept the challenge."
Only Tina caught Solange's quick shiver of relief at his acceptance because she quickly turned to three Mistresses who had been waiting in the wings. "Please escort the players to the waiting room and help them prepare."
'HEY, WAIT," an attractively plump Mistress yelled. "You said there would be FOUR contestants! You only drew three names!"
Solange made a show of hitting herself in the head with her palm. "You, know? You're right! I almost forgot that I had already decided that two of my Dommes were going to go into the Hall, just to prove that everything's fair. Because, as we all know, no TRUE Domina would willingly submit - especially to someone she competes with for subbies on a daily basis. And I knew, immediately, just who those two Mistresses would be. You see, Mistress Antinelli over there," and Tina stood stock still as Solange waived the microphone in her direction, "Owes me a forfeit for - can you believe it? - being LATE to pick me up for lunch just the other day."
There was a collective gasp from most of the male contingent, and more than few feminine snickers from the many Dommes.
Solange brought the microphone back to her lips. "Mistress Antinea, do you dare to take up the same challenge as our three guests? Or are you going to wimp out in front of all your colleagues and our clients, and refuse this challenge?" There was a bite in those words, even though Tina had been prepared for them, that got her ego juices flowing.
ShaJuana jumped up on the dais and grabbed the microphone from Solange. Her grin was diabolical. "Oh, YEAH! Go ahead and take it, cutie," she growled low in her throat at Tina, "I won't be . . . TOO. . . rough. Not unless you beg real nice."
Tina slowly crossed her arms beneath her breasts, and stared hard at the feline-garbed Mistress. "Really? What makes you think I'd be paired against you?"
Solange snatched the microphone back before ShaJuana could respond. "Because," she said in very heavy tones, "In contrast to you, you naughty girl, Mistress ShaJuana has actually far exceeded my demanding expectations of her recently, and so I promised her a little reward. She chose you. I'm giving you to her, or rather, I'm giving her a chance to win you."
"Same thing, Solange," Juana interjected, leaning over so she spoke into the open microphone.
"Safely, sanely and consenually, of course, dear," Solange replied, casting a sardonic grin to the tall black girl.
"Oh, of course - wouldn't do it any other way," ShaJuana purred, for she'd been waiting days for another chance to get her paws on her diminutive friend, again.
"You did say, Maitresse," Tina asked, "That I could win HER by taking down Mistress ShaJuana in the Hall of Horrors, and then it will be me who gets to dominate HER?"
"Exactly, Mistress Antinea," Solange agreed. "The same challenge, the same rules, the same prizes and penalties."
A ripple of disbelief and laughter floated through the guests, for Juana's intense style of play was well known by client and colleague alike. Not many of the Mistresses in attendance would willingly give the tall, dark and lovely amazon carte blanche over their bodies - no negotiation, no yellow code, and a forfeit for safewording - even those who would privately admit to some submissive urges.
"Then, of course I accept the challenge." Tina said, her voice carrying over the continuing buzz from the crowd, "And Juana? You just keep enjoying those girlish little fantasies of topping me in that special challenge scene because that's all they'll be - fantasies. I'm taking you down, Tall-Booty! I have wanted that long, gorgeous bod of yours dancing to my tune for simply ages. Trust me on this! You're gonna be the one who'll need the safeword, not me!"
Stunned silence answered this unknown, not particularly physically impressive Mistress who'd just thrown down the gauntlet to one of the largest, strongest Dominas in the city. For her part, ShaJuana simply grinned, looking like a jungle cat who had just found a very confused, particularly juicy wildebeest stuck in mud.
"Very well, the challenge is accepted," Solange called out. "Then, let us begin again. These Mistresses will escort you to the prep room we've set up for to get you ready for your challenges."
The three Mistresses, Isolde, Betina, and Vanessa, stepped forward to link arms with the four contestants. As they began to lead them away, Solange added loudly, "Bring their locker keys to me for safe keeping once they've locked up their clothes and you have them all kitted out."
Harris spun on his heel and stared at the Maitresse. "Clothes? kitted out?"
"Of course there are some. . .little preparations. Just to make things fair."
"Fair? Like what?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing. "That wasn't part of your description earlier."
Solange gave an exaggerated shrug. "Well, since you ask, we thought that since we're giving you three minutes to escape, and since you are going to be challenged by mere women, Mistresses though they may be, we've added a few items to make the challenge more. . . challenging. Nothing too restrictive - just trying to ensure that any physical contest a bit more even. As for taking your clothes, well, it IS a Hall of Horrors. If you don't mind having that lovely tux get slimed in KY-Jelly, or some other such indignity, we won't insist you go in wearing the, ah, somewhat skimpy attire we've selected for you. Seems a waste to ruin such a fine suit though, when a shower after you . . . win?" and there was a questioning challenge in her voice, "will put things to rights. It is, however, entirely your choice."
"You didn't tell anyone about that before hand," he repeated, his tone rebellious. "You call THAT fair?"
"Oh, very well. if you feel that bit of non-disclosure was unfair, I suppose I MUST let you just quit now." She didn't say 'wimp' but the word was still 'heard' by everyone present - particularly Harris. "I won't even make you pay the forfeit if you quit on us now. Anything unfair about that, Mr. Harris?"
Tina walked up to Harris and put her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Shall we go, Mr. Harris? We don't want to miss out on the fun, do we? Surely you intend to win in any case, don't you?" For a moment, she thought he might still back out, but then he shrugged. Turning, they followed the others toward the preparation rooms on the other side of the large hall. A sense of anticipation hovered over guests as they settled themselves in front of the recently installed big-screen televisions, ready to be entertained.
The blond Valkyrie (Isolde) and Natasha Fatale (Betina) escorted the three men into one prep room while Venus, Goddess of Tough Love, (Vanessa) took Tina to another. Tina had not yet had occasion to work with or be trained by the voluptuous red-head, but knew her casually through other members of the dungeon staff.
Vanessa's specialty was age-play. She was highly skilled at turning her clients into 'little boys or girls', subject to the whim of a stern mother, teacher or baby sitter played by Vanessa. She always claimed that this was something that growing up in her Italian, mother-dominated home had well prepared her.
"Don't think I'd have taken that challenge, Tina," she said as she closed the door of the prep room behind them. I mean, ShaJuana is sexy as they come, and her clients worship her, but damn, she's BIG!" Vanessa was even shorter than Tina, and it would have been no trouble at all for the powerful black Amazon to diaper HER. "I KNOW I wouldn't have had the brass tubes to taunt her that way! How in god's name do you think you're going to take her down?"
"Well, I admit it's a daunting proposition," Tina said, as she shed her costume's riding boots, coat, blouse and jodhpurs, "But you know what they say, 'the bigger they are,' et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Besides, if that bit of trash-talk pisses her off, even just a bit? She might get a little careless."
"And she might damn-well get YOU, Tina, and then where will you be? Either in her clutches or wandering around the dungeon in one of Solange's wicked chastity devices." The petite Domme gave an exaggerated shudder as she carried over the box containing Tina's 'kit' for the game. "Here's the latex bra and thong," she said offering international orange-colored garments to Tina. "Cripes, you're gonna glow in the dark in those things."
"Well, guess Solange isn't THAT concerned about making things fair," and then giggled at the goggle-eyed look from her helper.
Chapter 15: Things That Go Thump in the Dark
The Valkyrie used her sword to clear her path of any stray male slaves as she moved toward Solange. She whispered something in the Queen's ear, then turned to leave once more. Nodding her approval, Solange moved back to the dais and took up the microphone. "Your attention, please. We're just about ready to begin, but before we do, I want to discuss one more aspect of this game with you now that our contestants are isolated and cannot hear what I have to say"
The remaining guests gravitated back to the dais, their full attention on the Queen.
"Now, I mentioned earlier that safewords would be honored, but that they would be construed as a challenge failure. That's true, insofar as that goes, but let me give you the fuller picture of how we will ensure safety in these sessions."
THAT got their attention, Solange thought. She had expected that the previous description of "being punished for safewording" wouldn't sit well with many of the more experienced players in the room, so she'd decided to share this aspect of her plans with the larger assembly. It meant that watching the challenge-scenes would lack some of the drama she'd originally envisioned, but given the nature of the people she had invited, she'd known she would need to bring them more fully into her real plans.
Just not quite ALL the way in.
"Look, we know that we will be putting people in situations in which they may well — heavens — they WILL find themselves immersed in some pretty heavy play-scenes. I think it is likely that these will be scenes for which the contestants may have little or no experience. As a result, we at the dungeon are very concerned about tripping hard over unexpected limits. In order that this potential is absolutely minimized, I have asked two of the most knowledgeable and intuitive Dommes in the city to observe all challenge play via closed-circuit video links. They will serve as dungeon masters for these challenge scenes, and as such, I have granted them final and ultimate authority to terminate any challenge scene at any time for any reason. Additionally, if they terminate a challenge scene because they believe the player is or is close to violating his or her own limits - in other words, trying TOO hard - the involved player will still earn the winner's prize. However, for reasons of safety, we will ask that player to refrain from participating in any more play tonight."
She saw the relief on the faces of key members of her audience and knew this had been the right thing to do. "Thanks, Maitresse," the man who had voiced the original concerns spoke up. "I feel better about this now."
Solange nodded regally, and then picked her microphone back up. "All Right, Then! Our players are ready. If you will all look at the screen behind me, please?"
The screen split to show two views of the curtained-off portion of the upper floor. There were clearly two breaks in the curtain. On the left hand side of the screen stood a very nervous looking Walter Evans. A murmur rippled through the crowd as they took in his 'kit', which consisted of grossly oversized boxing gloves tied on to his hands, a bright orange jock strap, and some type of chain between his ankles.
On the other split of the screen, they saw a thick-bodied brunette, garbed in a ripped 'Gold's Gym' muscle shirt, running shorts and sneakers, waiting patiently at the break on the opposite side of the curtained area.
The Domina was Mistress Emerald, a competitive body builder whose work at the dungeon helped defray the costs of her training. Her domination specialty was using raw strength to overwhelm her clients physically, either in tests of strength or in wrestling matches. She was also generally acknowledged to give the hottest hand spankings in the dungeon, usually as a forfeit for having lost to her in some test of strength.
Solange lifted the microphone to her lips and called out, "Ladies, Gentlemen and slaves - ARE YOU READY TO RUMBLE??!?"
A loud cheer answered her, and she grinned. "I've always wanted to do that. All right, then, Mr. Evans will attempt to evade or to capture Mistress Emerald within three minutes in the Hall of Horrors! But first, let me explain the kit we have provided for our contestant. The orange, ummm, athletic supporter is just that, and it includes a cup."
She shot a frightening smile down at the two males closest to the stage. "Just in case something happens. . . there? Don't you think, boys?"
She was rewarded when both men reflexively clamped their legs together in Pavlovian response to the image she'd indirectly put in their minds. "I see you do. Now, about those boxing gloves. They've been tied tightly to his hands so that there will be no danger should he accidentally hit Mistress Emerald in his certain-to-be futile struggles to escape her clutches," Solange reported as an unseen operator zoomed the camera in on the oversized gloves. "I'm told that this size glove is specifically used for training children to box, and that it is almost impossible to strike a hurtful blow when wearing them. They also," she added with an evil smirk to her audience, "Do interesting things to the wearer's manual dexterity."
An appreciative buzz filled the room, and Solange continued. "If you will notice Mr. Evans' feet," and the camera panned down, "You will see he has been restrained with a hobble chain. The chain is only two feet long and has two bells. We've tested this apparatus recently, and have found it is almost impossible to move about with that chain on and prevent the bells from ringing."
"And now, let the games begin!" Solange flipped a switch on the table, and spoke again. "Mistress Emerald, you may enter the Hall!" The powerfully built mistress shot her opponent and the camera her best front double biceps flex pose, then slipped inside.
"On the count of three, Mr. Evans, you will enter the Hall and the clock will start! One, Two, Three!" The crowd cheered as the Evans took two halting steps toward the curtain and then tripped and fell through the curtain, his bells ringing merrily.
Guests quickly dispersed to the other large screens scattered throughout the ballroom, everyone trying to get the best possible view as the split-screens shifted to follow both Mistress and contestant into the unlighted space. The cameras installed in the Hall had been selected for low-light functionality, so the figures were clear and distinct, if not colorful.
Emerald, clearly confident of her ability to handle a hobbled and hand-deprived submissive physically, took up a position ten or so feet inside the exit point. She settled into a defensive stance - feet spread with her hands relaxed and in front of her- and settled to wait for her prey to come to her.
For his part, Evans was trying to walk while holding the two bells with his boxing gloves, in an attempt to muffle them. It worked to a point, but even the thumbs of the damned boxing gloves were too wide to get into the bell mouths, so they continued to ring with every step, albeit considerably muted compared to their clattering during his inauspicious entry into the Hall of Horrors.
The crowd howled with laughter at the incredibly awkward position he assumed to be able to hold the bells and still 'walk'. "He looks like he's a doggie taking a dump!" one wag was heard to say.
In addition to looking ridiculous, walking in that position was very hard on the normally unused muscles in his glutes and thighs. Walter had barely managed twenty feet into the Hall when the strain and burn of muscle fatigue started to set in. He gritted on, making his way to the hall's first corner, but then had stop for rest. If only his hands were free, he thought.
Solange watched on the monitor screen as he tightened his knees on one gloved hand, then pushed his body up with his legs using all his strength. Not so easy as that, my little man, she thought, and was just as quickly proved right. The glove remained fixed to his hand. Worse, his knee-grip slipped and he was flung backward against the wall by the force of his own legs; the tinkling of silver bells clearly audible throughout the entire dungeon floor.
Emerald heard the bells, faint as they were from her location, and calculated that he must be about a third of the way around.
"Two minutes left," Solange's voice called out over hidden speaker system. Well, the muscular Domina thought as she flexed her fingers and hands, he's right on time.
Evans tried to think of something - anything - he could do to turn this around. He had only TWO minutes left and no idea for how far he still had to go. Well, Emerald MUST have heard that bell peal - that was for sure. So if they rang a little more and he got some time back, he'd be no worse off than he was, right? Who knew? He might just catch her unawares and run past her. Thought became deed and he took off as fast as his chain-hobbled feet could manage.
He'd just gotten to the second corner when his feet hit something slippery. He felt them go out from under him and fell hard on his butt. He must have slid ten feet or more before he stopped. He couldn't feel anything with the gloves on, so he stuck his nose next to the floor and sniffed. Vaseline, he thought.
An idea hit. Sitting flat, he used his legs and gloves to dig the bells into the goop, trying to scoop as much of the stuff into the bell mouths as he could. He tested them, and smiled — nary a sound. Now, Mistress She-Hulk and he were on nearly even terms. At least he had a chance to out-stealth her.
That noble lady had heard her prey's "ooof" of surprise when he fell, and then nothing. She could tell he was just down the long hall from her. He was close - very close. She readied herself to repel a final, all-out headlong charge for freedom. He'd try to get past her and go for the exit, she thought, because they both knew he didn't have a prayer of holding her down, even if he got lucky and knocked her off her feet somehow. Well, there was no way she was letting him get past her, either.
She'd promised Maitresse Solange.
"ONE MINUTE," Solange announced. "One minute to go, and we can see you both. You're a LONG way from victory, Mr. Evans. Too bad."
Evans had submitted to La Maitresse for years, and he knew her - knew her tricks, knew her voice tones. She was goading him - probably misleading him. He HAD to be close to the end. Surely, in one minute. . .
Emerald was getting a little worried. Where were the bells? Why weren't they ringing? Had he hurt himself? Was he down and not moving because he couldn't move? Surely not, because Solange was watching, and she'd announce something like that — stop things and call for help - if there was a problem of that nature.
Dammit, why weren't those bells ringing!?
Evans crept a few more feet, feeling his way along the wall, but he nearly slipped again. The damn vaseline was still on his feet. "30 seconds! You have only 30 seconds!" He needed to be able to go as quickly as possible and to do that, he needed traction. Carefully, he began to wipe his feet against the tiled floor, trying to scrape away most of the lubricating jelly.
And slipped again, causing his foot to rub too hard against the floor.
SQUEAAWWWK! It was like fingernails on a blackboard.
That was loud and close, Emerald realized, immediately on full alert. She searched the darkness and listened hard. She almost missed it - almost missed HIM! It was just a small sound - a quiet rasp of air - the kind of sound she herself made during competitions just before she threw her best pose at the judges. He was gearing up to make his big play right now. She stepped into the corridor and just barely caught him - right by the waistband of his jockstrap - as he tried to race past her hiding place.
Riveted to the monitor in front of her, Solange finally relaxed. Once Emerald had her hands on him, it was all over for Walter. Oh, he tried to punch his way free, but with no real effect, thanks to the boxing gloves. Poor Walter was lifted off his feet and taken gently to the floor, held tightly in Emerald's signature 'She-Bear Hug.' Solange actually reached the end of the three minutes before she could count to ten for the capture, but in this case, that really didn't matter. Emerald would have won by either method.
"The WINNER!" Solange announced to the cheering of her guests. "And FIRST EVER Hall of Horrors Champion is Mistress Emerald!" Behind her, and throughout the ballroom the split screens merged into a single view. Two tall and powerfully-built male slaves (obvious for their uniforms - slave collars and matching jock straps) appeared on screen. They bowed to Emerald before reaching down to pick up a gasping Walter Evans, and lifting him up on to their shoulders, one at his head, the other at his feet.
"Take him to Play Room 2, slaves," Solange ordered into the microphone. This order was acknowledged by a simultaneous bow from both slaves that somehow did not in any way dislodge their burden.
Turning back to her audience, Solange smiled. "We'll have a short break for refreshments while Mr. Evans is taken to begin his challenge scene. That session will, by the way, be available for viewing on one of the four screens in the back of the ballroom if any of you would prefer to watch that as opposed to the next competition. In the meantime, my maintenance slaves will be resetting the traps and clearing away anything left in the Hall by our last two contestants. By the way, while the Mistresses who will oppose our last three contestants have been able to watch this contest, our remaining contestants have been kept in isolation and have not seen or heard any of this."
"That's not fair, Maitresse!" a laughing female voice chimed.
"No," Solange agreed, her own laugh bubbling beneath her words, "It is not, nor was it intended to be."
In Playroom 2, Walter Evans stood, backed against a ceiling-to-floor column as the two slaves cuffed his hands behind him and around the column. Emerald relaxed to one side, watching with her muscular arms crossed beneath her impressive surgically-enhanced, bosom. The slaves turned to her, expecting to be released, but she only shook her head. "Strip him," she ordered softly, "Completely."
From a nearby cabinet, she withdrew a 'plain brown package', holding it in her hands as the slaves pulled the jock, cup and hobble chain off her charge. When the pair came back to attention, she smiled. "That will be all. You may tell the Head Slave that I found your efforts entirely satisfactory. Please return to your holding area until you are summoned again."
When she turned back to face Evans, she saw his attention was entirely focused on the package she held in her hands. Carefully, so as to ensure he could see everything clearly, she began to remove the brown paper from the parcel. When he saw it contained, he groaned. "Mistress," he whispered, "I thought that would only be the result of safewording."
Smiling as she disassembled the clear plastic male chastity device, Emerald replied, "You thought wrong, then. If you satisfactorily complete my challenge, this will be removed and you will be free to participate fully in any other scene that suits your fancy."
With quick, sure movements, she quickly fitted the device to him and was locking the part holding his penis to the ring that encircled the base of his penis and underneath his scrotum. A small brass padlock ensured he could not be freed without the key.
"Are you ready to hear what I require in exchange for your freedom?" she asked, her voice soft and even. He nodded, his eyes wary. "You are to honor me by undertaking a quest. La Maitresse called it a scavenger hunt earlier, but to people like you and me, Mr. Evans, this will be like the quests of legend, when a knight served and honored his lady by undertaking and accomplishing great deeds in her name."
"Great deeds, Mistress? What. . . what do I have to do?"
"Why, you must seek out and obtain the Golden Dildo, then present it to La Maitresse, all before the clock chimes midnight."
"How do I find it? Where is it hidden?" Now, there was fear in his eyes, a certainty that he would not like the answers, but a need to know nonetheless.
"To answer your first question, it is in the ballroom - somewhere. Even I do not know its precise location for La Maitresse had already hidden it before I arrived. To find it, you must seek out those who will give you the clues that will lead you to the next person with a clue. They may choose simply to give you their clue, or they may ask a boon of you - their choice. If you want to win the prize, and more importantly, truly desire to please your Mistresses - both La Maitresse and myself - you will do what must needs be done to seek the prize."
"Out . . .there? In the BALLROOM??!? Like THIS? Mistress, I'm naked! I . . .I don't DO public play . . it. . .it's one of my limits! A HARD limit."
A sad look crossed Emerald's face. "I see. Well, I suppose that is why I have been given this, then," she said, as she put a necklace with a small key suspended from it about his neck. "That is your safe-code for the rest of the evening. It will unlock the locker in which you placed your clothing. Present that to the slave stationed at the coat check, and your clothing will be returned to you immediately. You will dress at the coat check and then be escorted to the downstairs foyer where my little gift," she pointed to the male chastity device locked onto his genitals, "Will be removed. You will, of course, forfeit your chance at the prize, and you will not be permitted to return here until Thanksgiving."
"I CAN'T do THAT!" he said, nearly in tears.
Shrugging, Emerald reached behind him, and released the cuffs holding him to the column. "Very well, I am a ethical Mistress. I do not abuse slaves by forcing them to violate their limits. When you leave this room, turn left and go to the end of the corridor. The last door on the right will take you directly down to the coat check area. You won't have to go anywhere near the ballroom and you will avoid having to face La Maitresse." She turned her back on him, as if to leave. At the door, she stopped, her eyes hard on his. "If, however, you are the submissive your Mistress believes you to be, one who honors her with his best efforts in her service, you should turn right and follow that hallway back down to the ball room. Seek out the Aphrodite's Roman Incarnation. Farewell, Mr. Evans. I wish you well in your choice."
Solange watched the interplay between the hard-bodied Domina and her recalcitrant slave closely, and felt her stomach fluttering with nerves. Was she right about Walter? Did he truly WANT this experience? Would this help him over what she was convinced was a false limit, or had she just driven him away?
Or worse, had she just sent him headlong into something he truly could not handle.
She couldn't think about this, she told herself! She had two extremely knowledgeable and intuitive women watching over and protecting her contestants for just this purpose. Hadn't she told them to pull the plug immediately if they had ANY concerns about the sub's emotional or mental state? Indeed she had, so she'd better let them do just that! In the meantime, it was time for her to get the second act of her little play under way.
Chapter 16: What Mistress This Way Comes?
"Ladies, gentlemen and slaves, we are ready for our second contestant!" she announced as she mounted the dais. "And who will be the next to fall to my Hall of Horrors? None other than our lovely Mistress Antinea! I know that, like me, you cannot wait to see what our ebony goddess, Mistress ShaJuana, has in store for this delinquent Mistress' challenge scene! So, please direct your attention back to the screen behind me!"
Juana and Tina were at their respective entry points to the Hall of Horrors. Juana, all grinning cocky confidence, was almost dancing in front of what all the viewers now recognized as the victor's exit in her impatience to get started. Tina, on the other hand, stood quietly confident in front of the entry portal.
Every eye locked on the challenger in her orange rubber bikini and a buzz of appreciation filled the room. Solange's smiled, all dark satisfaction, before she continued. "If you will please take notice of soon-to-be-subbie-Antinea's attire," and the camera panned up and down the tightly muscled body. "You will see she is garbed identically to our previous contestant, with the exception of the rubber sports bra. Something our buxom lass needs quite as much as you boys would need your cups. Otherwise, things might bounce about and get in the way."
Every eye except those of Walter Evans, that is. Outside the final door leading to the ballroom, Walter Evans cringed in the dark stairwell. Why, oh WHY had he turned right? The hall door on the third floor had closed and latched behind him, meaning he was now stuck! He could no longer simply disappear without a trace through the back door Emerald had offered him. He HAD to go into the ballroom, even if just to quit!
He was NEVER going to finish this scavenger quest by midnight. He wouldn't get to serve Solange for a WHOLE month! He NEEDED the release from responsibility she gave him, Dammit!
But it was just too much. He just couldn't . .
A flash of white caught his eye. Turning back quickly, he saw a very curvy redhead walk by, heading towards the buffet tables. Wasn't that a toga? And on her head, some kind of crown? Could it be?
Without thinking, he was out the door and into the ballroom. "Mistress Venus?" he managed to call. "Please, Mistress, a moment of your time. Please?"
Solange saw Walter break from the stairwell, and scurry off after Vanessa. For just one instant, she closed her eyes in thanks. She hadn't been wrong. Now, all she had to do was make sure he passed his challenge.
After a properly demanding and victorious quest, of course.
"Let the contest begin! Mistress ShaJuana, you may enter the Hall!" The feline mistress gave two thumb-claws up, and slipped inside. Solange spoke again. "On the count of three, Antinea, you will enter the Hall and the clock will start! One, Two, Three!" This time, the crowd counted with Solange, and then cheered as the hobbled Tina went to all fours and bunny-hopped, bells ringing loudly, through the curtain.
Knowing what to expect this time, the crowd hurried to get the best spots about the ballroom's large screens and prepared to follow this pair's progress toward their mutually exclusive goals. Small wagers were offered this time around, usually with some type of slave service as the payoff, on how this pairing would do. Most agreed that the very athletic Juana was at a distinct advantage in this confrontation.
The cameras tracked them into the unlighted corridors, seeing them more as faceless shadow figures than people. ShaJuana, never one to simply wait for anything to come to her, went prowling her way into the Hall of Horrors, stopping every few steps to listen.
Tina, on the other hand, took two bounds into the dark space, and then sat down, putting her back up against the outer wall of the hallway. She slid along the floor on her bottom until she came to the first playroom's door, and then slid further back into the recessed doorway. Getting up onto her knees, she quickly spun about so her back was to the hallway.
It also put her back to the camera tracking her progress, partially obscuring her from the viewing crowd in the ballroom, much to their audible annoyance. The operator rapidly switched through the various video feeds, sampling the available cameras, but was unable to get a clear picture of what the girl was doing.
Working quickly, Tina brought one gloved hand up to her mouth and began working at the boxing glove's knots with her teeth. That mode of escape had not occurred to Vanessa, so the knots on Tina's glove came loose without difficulty. Moments later, her hands were both free, and she was reaching back to undo the buckles that held the hobble-chain strapped to her ankles. She picked up the chain by the bells, carefully ensuring that the clappers could not move. Satisfied, Tina crawled out of the doorway, silently resumed making her way further into the darkened hallway.
"I suppose," Solange observed to her audience, "That we should have the other contestants' gloves checked for better knots, eh? I think our dear ShaJuana might be in for a surprise, eh?"
Juana wasn't the only one surprised. A screamed "OH SHIT, WHAT IS THIS CRAP?!?" had Tina hitting the deck, and straining eyes and ears to scan ahead of her into the darkness.
On the screen, the attendees laughed heartily as Juana struggled to free herself from what appeared to be a gigantic white spider's web that had fallen on her from the ceiling. It was evidently quite sticky as well, for camera close-ups showed the latex fabric of her catsuit stretching away from her body as she tried to pull the webbing off her.
Perfect, Solange mused as she watched the furious woman struggling to get the sticky twine from her hair and losing her cat's ears in the effort. It had taken a while to find a spray-on version of the adhesive used on post-it notes, but it had worked just as she'd hoped it would.
Juana threw the sticky mass to the floor, sacrificing her gloves along with the ears, not to mention a few hairs, to be rid of it. Tina had designed this place, she thought, her nostrils flaring. TINA had KNOWN about that damned web thing and she hadn't TOLD her best friend! Well, some sexy little TV slut had just earned herself another HOUR of orgasm denial! A beautiful concept, the tall, black goddess thought as she resumed her hunt.
Not quite so cautious in your stalking now, dear, Solange thought to herself as she watched Juana move more quickly through the darkness. She'd known that Juana would not be one to guard the exit and let the prey come to her. That was just much too passive an approach for their beloved Mistress ShaJuana Price. No, this big jungle cat would want to hunt down her prey; would want to meet Tina at least half way and face to face.
Having designed the layout of the Hall, Tina had been able to move quickly and silently, while avoiding the traps that had been laid to give away or even entrap any hapless contestant that fell their way. She made it, without incident, to the first corner where the hall turned to follow the shorter dimension of the third floor toward the back of the building. There, she hid, just out of sight of anyone coming down that corridor, kneeling on the floor, and listening.
Knowing that her prey would be wearing boxing gloves and the belled hobble chain, Juana had not bothered changing her shoes. Now, in the silence of the otherwise unoccupied dungeon, her heels rang out like little hammers rapping on the hard tile floor. She stopped, and wondered momentarily if she should take them off before continuing her hunt.
"90 SECONDS LEFT!" Solange's voice echoed loudly.
She couldn't do it, she realized. She could outrun Tina in her heels since Tina was hobbled, but if the little sneak broke past her while she was one-shoe-on, one-shoe-off, she'd be screwed. No way to move quickly with one foot wearing a four-plus inch heel and the other in just a stocking. She'd likely kill herself. Taking a deep breath, she began to move again, more slowly this time, and listening hard for the sound of those little silver bells.
The anticipation of the guests was becoming palpable as they watched the split scene, one view showing Tina waiting in ambush on one side of the corner, the other showing Juana creeping up from the other corridor. Contact was imminent. Would the little one try to get past the tall, powerful mistress and just run for it, or would they collide in an epic Mistress-on-Mistress cat-fight?
Not one of the many viewers hoped it would be the former.
Tina heard the muffled clicking of Juana's heels, and fought the impulse to hold her breath. Carefully, she tightened her grip on the hobble chain and waited - hoping. .
Juana was fairly certain she was approaching the last corner in Solange's Hall of Horrors; the one that would turn onto the corridor that ran along the front of the block. That would have her heading directly for the entrance Tina had used. If the sneaky little bitch was going to lay in wait, this corner would be where she'd do it, but why hadn't Juana heard any bells? Maybe Tina only moved while she'd been otherwise involved with that web? She put out her hand to find the wall, and began moving very cautiously, her ears and eyes wide open.
Only she didn't see or feel the trip-wire about her ankle until it was too late.
The camera tracking Juana from behind was instantly dazzled as the broken tripwire closed a circuit and turned on a spotlight directly behind and above Juana's head. Its beam was directed at a floor to ceiling, three panel dressing mirror mounted against the far wall of the corridor. The reflected light blazed fiery white into the dark-adapted eyes of the Amazon, dazzling her as well.
The operator was able to switch to a camera out of the beam's path just in time to see Tina move. Juana did not have the same option.
Keeping her head low and her eyes away from both the direct and reflected light, Tina leapt at Juana's feet, leading with the chain and wrapping it about the taller girl's ankles. With one quick tug, she pulled the unstable ankles together, tying the leather straps in a makeshift knot. Using her shoulder in Juana's gut, she broke the taller girl's tripping fall, and then slid out from beneath Juana to let the Domina slip all the way down to the floor.
She couldn't freakin' SEE!! Juana's hands went out, trying to catch herself, trying to regain her equilibrium when something TRIPPED her, and she started to fall over, face-first . .
Cheers resounded throughout the viewing assembly, as the little blonde reached out for the felled Mistress, flipping the larger woman onto her back.
Tina jumped aboard, putting all her weight onto Juana's upper body and wrapping her arms around her lover to capture the taller girl's in an arm-pinning bear hug. "Gotcha" she gloated into ShaJuana's still-dazzled eyes, and then bent down to kiss the struggling black woman full on her mouth.
Solange grinned as she began the count. "One . . Two . . Three. . . " and was joined by almost the entire audience as she reached "Five. . ."
Juana was fighting to get loose with everything in her, but between those damned heels and whatever it was wrapped around her ankles, she couldn't get any damned leverage with her feet. And with her arms were being held so tightly to her body, they were useless, too.
"Eight, . . .Nine, . . . "
And damn, but that girl could kiss, was her last rational thought before "TEN!" blared in her ears.
"And we have a WINNER!" Solange announced to the cheering of her guests. Behind her, the split screen morphed into a single view. The two male slaves again appeared on screen, bowing to Tina this time.
"Take her to Play Room 4, slaves," Solange ordered into the microphone as they hoisted the still-dazzled Juana up onto their shoulders before repeating their stylized synchronized bow.
At that very moment, Walter Evans - scavenger hunter - who had also experienced the rush of success, was busily searching for his second clue-giver.
Some how, he'd DONE it! Even when Mistress Venus had requested a boon that had him laying there on the floor - right there in FRONT of the buffet table and all the guests - drinking from a small baby bottle filled with milk.
He'd almost run for the exit right then and there, but he hadn't, and inside the bottle had been a piece of paper wrapped in a plastic tube. "Find the one who is booted and suited, and ready for scooting to get your next clue."
What the hell did that mean? Almost every Domme here was in boots of some kind or another, and none of them were nude so they were all suited. Weren't they?
Scooting?!?
In Play Room 4, a bubbling Tina supervised the two slaves as they removed Juana's shoes before cuffing her ankles and wrists. Ceiling and floor chains were quickly attached to Juana's wrists and ankles. Not surprisingly, Juana resisted, but Solange had selected these slaves for their strength, so they easily, if gently, overcame even her efforts to stop them. That done, a touch of a switch activated hidden winches that pulled Tina's lovely prize into a standing spread-eagle position. Her legs were spread just enough to cost the taller woman about three inches in height without putting too much of a strain on her leg muscles and hamstrings. That put the pair nearly on eye-to-eye level.
"You cheated," Juana complained after the slaves had left.
Grinning broadly, Tina kissed the annoyed and pouting lips, enjoying the savor of lipstick on lipstick. "Only in that I knew where the traps were," she replied. "Everything else was fair and square. I'll show you the video - but after we're done - maybe tomorrow, if you're up to it," she added, her voice silky with her anticipation.
"I don't think I should have to do this 'cause you cheated!"
"Gonna safeword, then?" Tina asked, her brows lifting in polite inquiry.
"And spend the rest of this fine party walkin' around with a butt-plug locked up my ass, and a steel dome keeping my many slaves away from my clit and G-spot?!? I don't think so!"
"Well, in that case, I guess, you're just gonna have to stand there and take what I have in store for you, huh?"
Dark brown eyes went slitted and black, "What you're gonna have in store for me, little girl, is unlockin' these chains and lettin' me go!"
Tina spun on her heels and went to the small dresser she'd had put in this otherwise starkly empty room, and opened a drawer. "I don't think that's what I want to do, Tall Booty," she said, removing an electronic remote control and pointing it at the wall directly in front of her bound friend. "Nope, it's really not. Hey, I think we'll just relax and watch a little TV first. For now."
Chapter 17: Much Ado About Something
Back in the ballroom, Solange caught sight of Isolde signaling to her from just inside the entry way that they were ready for the next pairing. She smilingly acknowledged the Valkyrie's signal with a wave, and then made her way back to her dais. Seeing her heading in that direction, all of La Maitresse' guests moved quickly to huddle around the nearest flat screen.
"Hear ye, hear ye," she called, waving her flogger-scepter in the air, "It is time for our THIRD contestant to enter the Hall of Horrors.
Walter tried to ignore the attention his nude, chastised state was drawing. He didn't succeed, not really, but he did try. He'd been searching for the entire time that last pair had been in that damned Horror place, and he still had no idea who the hell he was supposed to find. Was he supposed to ask everyone who wasn't naked if they were ready to scoot??!
He was just beginning to despair when a tall, Rubenesque woman in biker leathers and helmet walked by.
A Biker Babe, he thought, his eyes going wide. He checked her out more closely, and saw she was also wearing brightly shined, heavy-soled biker boots to go with her riding leathers - her 'suit.' Walter didn't think a real Biker Bitch would refer to her machine as a 'scooter', but it was worth asking, wasn't it?
He hurried over to the leather-clad woman and knelt before her. "Ma'am? Mistress? Are you. . umm, that is, are you ready for scooting?"
A knowing grin answered him, and he swallowed hard against the lump he felt growing in his throat. "I might be," she answered, in a surprisingly gruff voice. "But a clumsy server slave spilled egg nog on my boots, and I really think they need to be cleaned before I will be doing any scooting." She sat down on a nearby chair and raised the clunky boot near Walter's suddenly very dry mouth. "Or handing out any clues."
Closing his mind to the fact that his bare ass was currently mooning the majority of La Maitresse' guests and that he had never met this woman before, Walter bent over and began to lick away the sweet, creamy confection from the proffered toe.
For the third time that night, the guests watched as a contestant prepared to confront a Mistress in the dark of Solange's Hall. This time it was James Harris in the day-glo orange jockstrap, hobble-chain and boxing gloves, but it was the woman who captured everyone's attention.
Unlike many of her colleagues from the dungeon, this Domina had decided to use her costume to advertize her dominant specialities. Older and more experienced that many of her colleagues at the dungeon, Head Nurse Amanda actually was a Registered Nurse with a bachelor's degree in nursing. She had worked for fifteen years in that capacity when she had decided to make her avocation for teasing and tormenting men her vocation. Now, in her white lycra nurse's costume, nurse-hat, stockings and ice-pick white heels, she looked like she'd stepped out of one of Olivia De Beradinis' nurse pinups! She had the skills, the desire, and she was also drop-dead gorgeous to boot. For Amanda, working at the dungeon was a dream come true and the perfect job.
Due to her maturity, Amanda was sometimes called upon to play a 'Mother I'd Love to 'F' or MILF role (always as the 'F'-er, never as the 'F'-ee), but her primary dungeon specialties were the ones for which she had trained her entire life. Amanda provided a variety of medical play scenarios for her clients, but her favorite scenes emphasized water sports, play piercing, and cock and ball torture. She loved her new job so much she practiced her trade whenever she could find a willing playmate, and practice did make perfect. She could be as gentle or as . . . un-gentle as each individual case warranted. She could take a newbie to heaven or a hardened masochist to hell with equal ease and with complete safety.
And she was also Solange's best friend on staff at the dungeon - which was why she'd been asked to take this particular contest.
"Please note," Solange called the guest's attention back to herself, "the minor improvements we've made to our contestants' kit after Mistress Antinea's unanticipated success. The silver bands you see around the gloves and the buckles of the hobble chains are made of duct tape. The contestants will have to get that off before they can even hope to work on the knots. We think it will cost vital seconds to free enough of the knots, too."
There was a general sound of approval through the crowd. They weren't here to see the bloody contestants win! They wanted to see them have to deal with the consequences of losing - like that guy running around the ballroom buck naked, drinking out of baby bottles and licking biker boots!
Avidly, the guests watched the two contestants on the various monitors. Instead of going straight to her place before the victor's exit portal, Head Nurse Amanda sauntered, hips swinging, eyes smokey, over to where James Harris stood. "You ready, cutey?" she cooed before giving him a pecking kiss on his colorless cheeks. "I am. And you know what I get to do to YOU when I win this thing?"
The audience was vastly entertained by the look of stark terror on the man's face as Head Nurse Amanda pulled down his jock and gave him a quick hernia check. "Cough darling! she ordered. Blushing furiously, but having nowhere to run, James did as ordered. Smiling wickedly, she then pulled the jock back up, solicitously ensuring all the important parts were safely inside the hard plastic cup. "Well, good news, honey! You're in prime shape for what I've got planned just for you." She put her lips to his ear and whispered for several seconds.
The audience couldn't make out what she said, but they could tell by Harris' stunned reaction that it would be good! REALLY good! Then she gave him another kiss and strolled her way over to where she'd enter the game.
"Head Nurse Amanda! You may enter the Hall of Horrors!" Solange announced over the speaker system. Amanda grinned widely, waved and called out, "Don't keep me waiting too long, Jimmy," before disappearing inside.
"On the count of three, Mr Harris, you will enter the Hall and the clock will start!"
Every voice in the ballroom counted out "One, Two, Three!" and then, Harris tip-toed through the curtain, and into the darkness.
This was the critical one, Solange thought. This was the one that would make the final one work. She knew Victor Davis even if he wasn't her personal submissive - understood him on a very deep level. He was very much like her own little darling, and therefore he might, for very excellent reasons, back out at the very last second, accepting the forfeit. Probably just leave and not come back until Thanksgiving - if then - and that would be a double tragedy. Solange hoped that the outcome of this scene just might provide the impetus that might convince him not to back out.
The taste of leather-flavored egg-nog wasn't that bad, Walter thought, but he was grateful for the glass of sparkling water the Biker had gotten for him from the bar nonetheless. The Biker - she'd told him to call her just plain Bonny - had then told him that his next clue would be buried like a bone.
Buried like a bone? Dogs supposedly bury bones - his never had, but that wasn't the point, was it. Was he supposed to go out in the alley and look for overturned dirt??
WAIT! That domme who wanted to know the forfeit before she'd let her sub participate in the game. She'd dressed him like a dog, hadn't she!
Maybe the doggie slave would know!
The other revelers were now glued to the television screens, watching as Amanda made her way into the hall, moving with what appeared to be almost reckless haste. "Bet she wants to get him in her gynecological stirrups," a feminine voice offered. "Fill 'im up!" another voice answered, "'cause that one's sure to be a couple of quarts low!"
On the other half of the split screens, Harris was still tip-toeing his way down the corridor, using one gloved hand as a feeler guide along the wall. An angry shriek rent the silence, coming from the far down the corridor, and he flattened himself against the wall.
He was just about to start moving again when another, sharper yell had him back against the wall. "What was going on, anyway!?!" was clearly audible from the various television speakers throughout the ballroom
The audience knew. Both the web and the lubricant-slick floor had caught Head Nurse Amanda. She'd only gotten a glancing blow from the web, and had been able to shed it easily enough, even if she HAD screamed!
And she hadn't fallen on the slick spot, either, because unlike ShaJuana, she'd shed her heels on entering, so she'd had enough 'foot on the floor' to be able to slide but not fall.
"She looks really pissed," someone said.
Amanda headed for the last corner, determined to catch her prey when she remembered the light trap that had caught Juana. She tried to stop, but she hadn't cleaned all the lubricant residue from her feet and went sliding into the trip wire.
The system operator was prepared this time, and had already switched to a camera that was outside the dazzle zone. Amanda could not do that.
The light at the end of the corridor surprised James, for like the other contestants, he hadn't seen the videos of the other players in the Hall and so he didn't know about the traps. Then Amanda came staggering into his hall, her arms trying to shield her face from the light.
Amanda terrified Harris. Pins through his nipples, enemas, catheters, weights dangling from his balls? How the hell could any of that be pleasurable? It HAD to hurt! No way did he want to have anything to do with any session THAT woman had planned, and certainly not what she planned as a challenging session!
He watched her continue to stagger, moving her hands about as if looking for something to hold on to. OMIGOD, she can't see! he thought to himself.
"90 Seconds - there are 90 Seconds left!"
For just an instant, James thought about trying to take her down and capture her. For all she scared him spitless, she was beautiful and she couldn't see him. . .
No, he thought again. If he got close enough to grab her, she was close enough to grab him. Even blind. And Maitresse had said it was a ten count, not ten seconds. How fast would she count to ten if somehow the nurse managed to land on top of him?
With that, he took off down the hall, dropping to all fours as he skittered by the still dazzled nurse. He turned the corner and used the reflected light from the light trap to guide him to the final turn just as Solange announced, "There is ONE MINUTE left - One minute!"
He did slip on the KY-Jelly patch, and tripped over and got tangled in the discarded sticky web, but he could see the crack of light ahead of him that meant escape. Standing up, he hopped madly towards that splinter of light as the voice of La Maitresse began the final countdown, "10. . .9. . ."
He broke through the curtain and fell flat on his face as she hit "3."
Solange turned to face the disappointed audience. "Well, that's a winner," she said, her voice sullen. "Guess we don't get to see Nurse Amanda working tonight.
On the screen, the two slaves arrived and started to help him to his feet. "Go in there - over on that side," he directed towards the entrance portal. "Nurse Amanda may be hurt. I'm fine. Just need. . .to catch my breath and get out of this damned web!"
"If you want Muffy to show you where he buried his doggie bones, you're gonna have to be nice and rub his belly for him," Muffy's Mistress told Walter. Muffy, for his part, had rolled on his back with one leg in the air and his tongue lolling from his head.
Walter went white for just a second, and nearly bolted, but something stopped him. "Ummm, JUST his belly?" he asked, very cautiously, his eyes fixated on Muffy's unrestrained boy-bits.
"Yes, of course, what did you think I meant?" she snapped.
He rubbed the guy's belly and was so glad that was all he had to do, that he nearly forgot to be embarrassed.
Everyone was glad that Amanda wasn't really hurt, but unhappy to have missed seeing her work James in her planned challenge scene. Not so unhappy, however, that anyone accepted her request for a volunteer to take James' place in her planned session. She still had her reputation, after all. None of the males in attendance were her usual clients, and the Mistresses with escorts had plans for their boy-toys that night that might be difficult if Amanda wrung her guy out like an old dishrag.
Only Solange was really pleased. Amanda had come through for her - had taken one for the team so that the next play would have a better chance of success. It was time, she thought, for the final setup. She reached over onto the dais table, and flipped a tiny switch. The operator saw her signal, and blanked all the screens.
"Oh, My - looks like we've had some kind of glitch with the video system. We'll have it fixed soon. Why don't you all get some refreshment and I'll call you back as soon as we're ready again." With that, she strode from the room, heading for the stairs.
But instead of going to the surveillance room to check on the system, she headed for the Hall of Horrors . . .
Mistress Antinea used the remote to mute the room's television before turning her back to it. Languidly, she looked her trophy over with equal parts satisfaction and anticipation. While she had never quite believed that she would actually win their little contest in the dark - ShaJuana was incredibly fit and strong, and could easily have overcome Tina's advantages had she just been the tiniest bit less aggressive, she had still planned her victory celebration very carefully indeed.
Man, oh man, she thought grinning, she had longed for this opportunity for what seemed like FOREVER!
Antinea gave a quiet laugh at her own hyperbole. It certainly hadn't been forever, but there sure had been a great many long, lonely nights. Nor had it been quite THIS opportunity for which she'd been longing. Heck, until very recently, she had not thought something like this might be possible or even pleasurable.
And finally, she knew, deep in the part of her mind she usually kept hidden even from herself while in character, that it had not been a 'she' who had been longing for this incredibly beautiful woman, although that fact mattered less and less to her as time went on.
This playroom was decorated in what might best be described as 'Middle Age Gothic Post-Modern Dungeon.' The walls had been carefully textured and painted to have the look and feel of hewn stone. Torchieres, engineered to simulate burning wood torches, provided the chamber's only light, although their uneven, flickering red glow shadowed more than illuminated this Torquemada's realm of chains, shackles and 'torture' devices.
Suddenly, in response to Antinea pressing another button on her remote control, a single spotlight enveloped her 'guest' in and intense, white cone of light. The harsh bright light gave shadowy emphasis to every muscle, every curve; to all the straining, glistening ebony perfection that was ShaJuana Price in all her naked glory.
Getting her out of that catsuit had been fun, Tina mused happily. Cutting it off her while Juana had sputtered and cursed, before tossing the bits off to a far corner of the room. Even if she had to pay to replace it, Tina thought, that unveiling had been worth every penny!
Juana had been bound like this since Solange's two slaves had left the playroom. Solange had assured Tina that an extended period in such bondage would not pose any physical problem for a big, powerful, well-conditioned woman like ShaJuana. The angle formed by her legs was not so severe that she couldn't keep her feet flat on the room's stone floor, and Antinea had thoughtfully provided her with a saddle-like stool to take a good deal of the strain off ShaJuana's limbs. Still, the position was sufficiently strict that the sleek, powerful muscles of those incredible long legs and firm arms stood out vividly under the harsh glow of the spotlight.
"God, Juana, you are SO gorgeous!"
The bone had been 'buried' beneath cushion of the chair Muffy's Mistress had favored. It had been made of two pieces, designed to come apart when twisted at the ends. Inside had been the next clue.
"It is time you were taught how to measure up to the highest expectations of a Learned Mistress."
Handing the bone back to Muffy (who took it in his mouth) and giving him a friendly scratch behind his ears, Walter wandered off, wondering just who he needed to find to teach him that.
"Everything ready?" Solange asked Betina.
"I'd say so. Isolde will bring him up when you knock on the prep room door, and then we'll just see how he does, won't we?"
Solange had selected Betina as Victor's opponent Mistress for two reasons. The first was that he had subbed to her on several earlier occasions and trusted her. More importantly, Victor knew that Betina's primary role at the dungeon was gently exploring a newbie's fantasies during those first terrifying visits to a house of female domination. He wouldn't be - shouldn't be - in anyway frightened by anything she might be expected to propose for a challenge scene.
"You're going to let him come to you, right?" Solange asked.
'Natasha Fatale' shrugged her starkly white shoulders. "As we agreed, dollink." Then she became serious. "Only way I'm going after him is if it looks like he's going to pull the plug before we get a chance to finish this thing. You're going to have to key me using the loud-speaker - again as we agreed. If you say 'Get Moose and Squirrel' over the loud speakers, I'll know you've decided we need to go get him."
"I'm hoping that won't be necessary."
"Me, too. He's such a sweety, you know? Well, we'll just do what we have to do to make this one work out, okay?"
It wasn't, but it was all she had at this point. "I better go down and let everyone know the system is partially down."
"Yeah," the Goth Mistress agreed, grinning. "Some things the masses just don't need to know, right?"
"Right. See you later, Bets, and good luck," Solange added, and then headed down to signal Isolde to escort the last player to the Hall.
'Teach' and 'Learned' had to be, Walter thought, the operative words as he scurried up to the stern, Victorian school mistress he'd seen earlier. He glanced up at the clock on the back wall of the ballroom. How the hell had it gotten to be 11:15??!?
"Excuse me, HeadMistress," Walter asked, "but do you have a clue to aid my quest?"
Marie, Headmistress of the dungeon's 'school room' looked the quivering man over with a gimlet eye. She had a choice to make at this point, and wanted to make the correct one, or at least, the best possible one.
Marie had actually been a licensed teacher in the city's public schools for several years before burning out and looking for another way to make her living. When she'd discovered in herself both a taste and an aptitude for games of sexual dominance, she'd married those tastes and aptitudes with the training, skills and dreams that had initially pulled a very young, idealistic and nurturing woman into the teaching profession. In her mind, she still was a teacher. The lessons she taught were certainly different, the clients were a good deal older and the methods she used were very different - but her clients always learned something during one of her sessions. She INSISTED on that, and held very high expectations for her little darlings. It was, she often mused, just too bad that her current 'motivational' tools had been denied her when she'd taught 9th Grade pre-algebra in the public schools. She might have finally gotten to the seat of the students' problems with paying attention and doing their work.
Marie's practiced eye could see that Walter was starting to fray about the edges. The toll taken on his emotional reserves to this point was clear in both his body language and facial expressions. She made her decision, signaling him to proceed her with a wave of her yardstick.
"Very well, student, I think it is time for you to sit your exams. Come with me!" she ordered, and led the way to the small area off the dais.
End Part II
To Be Continued...
Comments
Two Tigger stories Today
Two Tigger Stories Todyay.
Wonderful.
Rami
RAMI
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I wait with baited breath for part 3. Great story so far.