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“Yes, sir.”
“How about your mouth? You have as much objection to that as you do to getting fucked in the ass?”
“Oh, no, sir.”
I sense her relief
as I move on to a new subject.
“Then prove it, slave.” Loosening the ropes that bind her arms, she drops to her knees on brick floor, and with hands still in manacles, she seeks to free my cock. Though she struggles nervously with the zipper, the stalk is soon moving down her throat as she slurps the precum and tongues the surface with a wet tongue. With her voluminous hair threaded through my fingers like a vine, I control the blowjob: her ability to suck, the need to swallow and the ejaculation as it first starts down her throat, and then, as I withdraw spewing, the thick liquid spilling out on her face and breasts. She looks at me longingly as she cleans the last from my cock.
For a moment, I stroke her face, remembering the texture of a woman’s soft skin, and the memory of such softness touches me strangely, but I’m not sure why.
“Bow for me, Delia.” There is little force in my voice now, but she obeys without hesitation, kissing the bricks at my feet with her wet lips.
Her willingness amazes me still, and I wonder how far she’ll go, how much humiliation she can endure.
Taking a leash from the wall, I attach it to her collar, and my initiate, on hands and knees, joins me in a stroll around the cavern showing off her punished flesh.
The night is a rare one. So much sadomasochistic activity in this dank underground overwhelms my once virgin maid. We watch as other subs are whipped,. Men and women are strung up to racks and alcove walls like the one where Delia hung, bent over rails and chained in suspension, a whip sizzling in this heated air making every moment a painful torture. One particularly nasty scene in the enema chamber makes her shrink in fear as she sees a fat nozzle plunged into a female ass. She shrieks almost as much as the subordinate slave who takes the sudden rush of water into her bowels. Delia’s fear climbs at every turn. Her scratched knees hurt almost as much as her ass. And though she figures there is little more that will happen to her this night, she’s shocked to suddenly discover me tugging her toward the top of a platform where she’ll undergo a careful inspection of her wounds.
The fem/dom, Enigma, who’s acting hostess for the night, takes the leash from me and jerks hard to get her to the top of the three-step podium.
“Let’s have a look at your punished ass and this wet cunt.”
Enigma’s the queen of the night in black vinyl—not my particular choice, but she looks ravishing dressed this way. Then of course, she would look ravishing in anything. Her shocking red hair frames a face of noble arrogance. She steps out boldly in thigh-high boots that gleam in the fluttering candlelight. Her vinyl corset holds two proud breasts, while her nipples, pierced with gold bars, jiggle at the top. The rings that dangle from her ears drip with crystals like water splashing down a canyon. There’s a bit of a circus tramp about her extremes, but no one can quite match the dramatic vitality of her green eyes, or the way she wields her command in this place of power and abdication.
“First night?” she asks as she tugs Delia’s collar. The slave cringes. She’s on all fours catlike, her back is slightly arched, the most heavily punished of her flesh prominently on view.
“It is,” I answer for her.
“My, Heinrich, she took a lot of abuse. You are a nasty devil.” She speaks so sweetly, but there’s hardly much sweetness in the way she runs her burgundy nails along that punished skin. My slave holds on silently, but with great effort as the pain and exposure continue to humiliate her. She’s aware of those that watch with curious eyes burning into her wounds as if to make them more raw. Enigma’s nails run along the crack of her ass and my slave shudders more. “You missed this tender place.”
“Would you be that cruel on a first night?”
“Maybe,” she answers. Delia shrieks aloud with a nail biting the door of her anus. “I bet you wonder how that will feel?” she leans over with burgundy lips to Delia’s ear and whispers loudly. “Does this bother you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she croons without an ounce of sincerity. “You are a delightful one.” She takes a handful of Delia’s hair and jerks down so her shoulders hit the wood and her face is pressed to the hard board of the podium. Her ass juts out like a lewd offering.
“You didn’t do much damage to her back, or work her thighs as hard as I would have.”
“I’m not you, Enigma. And Delia’s not yours.”
“Delia, humm, delightful name.” This dom’s too proud to ask for a scene with my slave. Though even if she did, I wouldn’t permit it. Delia won’t be returning to Tethers soon—this mini initiation has its purpose, but I’d rather we have private sessions after this one. I imagine that she’ll agree with me once this embarrassing performance is over.
Still, my plans for Delia don’t prevent Enigma from greasing her middle fingers with lubricant and probing Delia’s virgin target. You’d think the slave was being ripped apart the way she jerks and groans unhappily under her breath.
“I’m being hard on you, I know, my dear one. But if you want to play in this world of ours you have to withstand a good deal of abuse. The sooner you learn to enjoy, the better.”
Abruptly withdrawing her fingers, there’s another gasp from the brunette, and Enigma is distracted by other matters.
Jerking the leash, Delia slavishly crawls from the perch to the floor, and then up the stairs to the main room. While her clothes wait for her there, I don’t allow her to dress. Instead, throwing Delia’s coat over her shoulders, she’s forced to walk from the club clutching her wrap awkwardly in front of her.
“Think about what’s happened tonight, Delia. The world I want you for is not a pretty place. It’s filled with treacherous people who will want you for nothing more than their own pleasure. But it’s a beautiful place if you allow it to get inside you. I hope this is what you were seeking.”
Her silence doesn’t bother me as much as the look in her eyes. Though, when she speaks her message defines the night for me as I hoped it would.
