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Mistress X was next to take stage. She looked like a million bucks, dressed in riding boots and black leather Jodhpurs. She carried a leather riding crop and strutted around in semi circles playing directly to the audience, stopping to dance in time to the piped in music. And all the while a white hot spotlight followed her around. The audience loved her, even applauded wildly as she danced with and kissed the two topless dancers who were dancing right along with her.
The music broke into a new tempo, a striptease routine: Boom, chakka, chakka, boom, boom, boom…
None of them removed their clothes. There was no need for it. Slaves One, Two, and Three proved plenty of eye candy for the purely prurient. So they pantomimed the srip routines, the bumpa and the grinds. The two dancers bent over for X as she playfully made the slightest little swats with her riding crop.
The two dancers put their hands up to their cheeks and mouthed the word, “Oh!” The audience chuckled. It was great fun, a much needed comedic relief. As her routine came to a close, Mistress X struck a demure cute little girl cheesecake pose: knees together and bent, hands on the thighs, and her highly made up eyes blinking like crazy. Everyone applauded. She blew them a kiss.
No one enjoyed the performance as much as X. She was a true dominant, a perfect control queen who wanted nothing less than to see them all eating out of her gloved hands.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she said. “You have been such a wonderful audience! And our humble little show has only just begun. Tonight, for your special viewing pleasure, we are proud to present the immanently fuckable Slave Four.”
The curtains opened to reveal a young woman whose wrists had been fastened together in special leather restraints which were, in turn, fastened to a single rope that had been tied off overhead. She faced the audience, her legs spread wide and tied to either side ring bolts fastened to a round turntable mounted on the floor, forcing her body into an inverted “Y.” Her lower body pulled at her diaphragm making her breathing heavy and labored. Moist with her own perspiration, she actually glistened under the stage lights.
Slave Four was totally naked. Well almost totally: she wore a very narrow leather belt around her waist. And from that belt was fastened another leather strap which had been buckled down through her crotch and ass crack. The strap served to hold a pair of dildo vibrators in place: one in her vagina and one in her rectum.
But Four was also frightened, yea, terrified. Her eyes were as large as saucers. Her pupils were dilated. She knew full well, that her performance had just begun, and she was all too aware of what Mistress X could do to her. She had mercilessly caned her before, turning her into a veritable “Red Zebra” and driving her wild with pain. Tonight, bound the way she was, Slave Four knew she would be sorely tested, even tortured for the lascivious pleasure of these people. She had lost all pride and self control, trembling from head to foot, tears streaming down her cheeks.
The audience applauded with great gusto. They too sensed the worst for Slave Four, anticipated her total destruction, and couldn’t wait for her session to begin.
“She’s a slave like none other,” said Mistress X above the noise. “She’s been a very bad girl!”
“OOOOO,” the audience responded.
“She talked all the time. I just could not shut her up! At last I had to teach her what it means to be a good slave and how she should talk. Slave Four, would you care to tell the audience what to say to your mistress?”
Mistress X cracked her riding crop down hard on Slave Four’s thigh.
“Please Mistress, please make me suffer,” said Four, cringing from the blow.
“Thank you slave. Now say it louder so the people in the back row can hear!”
Crack! This time the whip struck the other thigh.
“Please Mistress, please make me suffer!”
“Please Mistress, please make me suffer,” Slave Four cried out as loud as she could.
“Oh, very good slave,” X observed. “Perhaps the audience would like to help us!”
“Butta bump bump,” played a drum roll.
“I’m going to need four volunteers,” said Mistress.
Everyone jumped to their feet waving their hands, no shortage of willing participants. Mistress X played the crowd, pretending to see if anyone was interested.
“Let me see, now…you, you, you, and um you.” she said pointing to the four largest men in the room. “Come on up!”
The two dancers greeted them along their way and handed each a rattan cane.
“I just do not know what to do with Slave Four,” X said so innocently. “She begs me to hurt her all of the time. What can a poor mistress like me do?”
She arranged the men around Slave Four, two in back and two in front, “Would you strong gentlemen be so kind as to help me out? It’s not hard really. Just swing when I nod.”
Splat! The canes fell together almost in perfect unison. All of them struck Four on the thighs. She let out a scream. She arched up and then struggled in her bondage, her body writhing in pain, mindlessly searching for escape.
She screamed again. Her nervous system went into overdrive and she began to breathe hard, almost panting like a dog as she tried to regain her composure. No one said a word. The audience was totally enthralled. Slave Four was the first to break the silence.
She looked directly into the eyes of Mistress X and asked once again, “Please Mistress! Please make me suffer!”
Mistress looked up at the audience and said nothing. She just nodded.
“Splat” struck the canes again this time on her belly and her ass. Four screamed again. Her agony reverberated throughout her body.
Again she said, “Please Mistress, Please make make me suffer.”
This time her voice broke. Her eyes glazed over. Her cheeks ran black mixed with her tears and mascara. Mistress continued to nod and the canes fell again and again. Red weals began to form everywhere, including her breasts. A nervous silence had begun to take over the room. How long would they continue?
But X knew when the moment was right. She held up her hand, indicating for the men to stop.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” she said as she turned to the audience. “Let’s give them a big hand!”
The audience cheered. The dancers collected the canes as the men took their seats. X continued. This time she gathered Four’s long hair into her hand and tied it to a piece of rope. She pulled the rope as tight as possible, forcing Four’s head all the way back against her shoulders as she tied the other end off on a ring on the back edge of the turntable. Four’s lovely body arched forward toward the audience obscenely. A few people cheered.
“Tell me, slave, what is your directive?” asked Mistress X.
“If I am not suffering, I am cumming,” was the reply.
“Very good slave,” said X.
She turned on the two vibrators which had been lodged in Four’s lower cavities. Slave Four gasped in surprise. Her body arched up even more than before. This time she began to move differently. Her body fought hard at first, but then relaxed.
“So let’s have a little talk, shall we?”
Mistress X began to caress Four, touching her ever so lightly, bringing her nipples to hardness.
“Tell everyone here what you are doing right now, Slave Four.”
“I am suffering?”
“That’s right,” mused Mistress as she pinched the nipples hard. “Suffering.”
Slave Four gasped. The audience laughed. Mistress X continued. She reached under the leather crotch strap and began to rub the clit.
Another moan. Slave Four began to writhe in pleasure, wantonly arching her body upward and into X’s finger.
“And what are you doing?”
“Suffering,” repeated Slave Four.
Mistress X pinched her clit.
“OWW!” Screamed Slave Four.
“Good girl,” said X, gently touching her slave.
“Oh,” she moaned breathing hard. This time she rolled her hips up and back, her whole body moving to the finger.
“And what are you doing?”
“I am cumming,” said Four.
This time she began to shiver all over. It was as if she had lost all control of herself. It was as if an electric current was coursing through her beautiful body. Head back, legs spread wide, she had been posed in total shameless surrender. Ever in control, Mistress X had anticipated this very moment.
“Good girl,” said Mistress X.
She withdrew her hand, wiped it on the heaving chest of Four and flipped a switch. The turntable began to revolve. Four had been hung from a single point over head. It served as a pivot while her wide spread legs and upturned head were still fastened to the turn table below. Slowly her body turned, revealing every square inch of her comely body.
“A little traveling music, please,” said X.
The speakers cranked out loud rock music. The audience applauded once again, but their response was somewhat quieted. They were still in awe, almost shocked by what they had just seen. Cindy Sanders, the immanently fuckable Slave Four was still cumming.
“Let the bidding begin,” said Mistress X with a sly smile. She knew her slave would fetch a very high price.
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