I collected my belongings and raced toward the door. On my way by I wished Ms. Salas a great weekend and, as a gesture of final defiance, stuck my middle finger into the air and pointed my hand toward Mr. Roth’s door. Shove this up your ass, Mr. Roth! I almost said it out loud but thought better of it. Leaving the building was my first priority right now and if he heard me making explicative comments in his direction, he might suddenly emerge and keep me hostage. When I reached the parking garage, I felt relieved. I had but to drive home with the rest of the sheep. I put my car into reverse, backed carefully out of my parking space and guided my vehicle toward the exit. I was free, for now, and whatever may come of my early departure, at the moment, I did not care.
-19-
I spent the next day mentally preparing myself for the Red Velvet Room. My thoughts were continuously drawn back to Gordon Roth standing next to the bar, staring in my direction. It was not a good feeling. It was like he had violated me. His presence in my alternate universe was not a welcome one but and I hoped he would not be there again. I was trying to convince myself not to cancel.
Matthew messaged me earlier in the day to confirm his arrival. He would pick me up at 10:00 PM again as he had before. I texted him back to let him know I was still planning on going. I had decided that it was imperative that I show my face again. The Red Velvet Room was deemed mine as well as Master Jason and I would not allow anyone to take that from me, not even Mr. Roth.
In preparation for the evening's events, I cultivated a look of authority. My hair pulled back tightly into a French twist that would still accommodate the straps to the mask I would wear. My eyes done in dark makeup to make them appear as if they were actually part of it. I was ready just in time for Matthew’s arrival and as I stepped out the door to my apartment building to greet him, I felt better. He opened the car door for me and I slid into the passenger seat, ready for him to whisk me away to my world. Goddess was in command now.
We drove in silence toward our destination. Both of his hands on the wheel and eyes forward, Matthew had a strange air about him. I assumed he was curious about the last time we ventured out. After several moments of saying nothing, I attempted to explain to him what had happened.
“You are never to repeat this to anyone,” I started to tell him the tale. He nodded in agreement as I continued, “Somehow, Gordon Roth, my unholy boss, was at the Red Velvet Room for the grand opening. He was standing across the room from me when I was demonstrating proper technique to Mistress Liliana, leaning arrogantly against the bar. His arrogance is undeniable, it was him all right,” I stopped speaking and glanced at Matthew.
“If I were you, Goddess, I would have confronted him. He had no right to be so lofty in your domain. He would have deserved your wrath for coming into your world,” I could see a slight smile playing on his lips. I think he liked the idea of calling Mr. Roth out and making him appear a fool in front of such mixed company. Matthew knew how much I loathed the man and it would give him as much pleasure to see him squirm as it would me.
“Well thank you, my pet, I appreciate your sentiment,” all I could do was smile back at him. He had no idea how much joy that would have brought me. To chastise Gordon Roth in front of so many others would be his just desserts for treating me with such hostility all these years.
We traveled on and I started to feel more at ease. Matthew always had a way of putting me back on the pedestal. As we entered the gates to the Red Velvet Room, the guard recognizing me instantly so I was not questioned, my heart pounded slightly in my chest, but I held my head up high and exited the vehicle when we stopped, ready to take my place of authority once again.
When we entered the great hall again, I was greeted by Mistress Liliana almost immediately. It was as though she had been waiting for us to arrive and had poised herself ready to pounce on me when she saw us. She wrapped her arms around me in a welcome embrace and regarded Matthew over my shoulder with a satisfied nod. He had shed his clothes the moment we walked through the door, as instructed, and was handing his neatly folded garments to one of the servants who had magically appeared to retrieve them.
Mistress Liliana showed us to the other side of the room where my throne awaited. Master Jason rose to his feet when I entered the VIP area and smiled greatly. He too embraced me in his arms, obviously glad that I had finally arrived. We both took our seats and I waited expectantly. I had been invited to the races and I was curious to witness such fantastical play. As if she had read my mind, Liliana appeared with her submissive slave John in tow.
John was naked, of course, except for a tall pair of knee-high boots. They appeared to have horse shoes fixed on the bottom instead of a normal sole. A leather riding bit was forced into his mouth in between his teeth and strapped around the back of his head. Attached to a ring on either side was a long strap that Liliana held in her hand. On his head, she had placed a large feather headdress with silver strands falling randomly around the crown of his head, causing them to trail down his shoulders and back. When he walked they flowed behind him like he had suddenly gained long, silver hair. Around the base of the headdress was a thick, leather band, adorned with jewels that were placed symmetrically across it, spaced evenly and getting smaller as they went around his forehead. He walked several paces behind Liliana, lifting his knees high as he did so, as if he were prancing. When she came around the other side of us, I saw that she had placed a large phallus in his rear end with long horse tail strands hanging down from the end. He was indeed a pretty pony.
She stopped in the center of the VIP area, directly in front of our thrones. Liliana guided him around in a circle so we could see the whole picture and grant our approval. Master Jason looked on amused and waved his hand to show he did indeed approve of this display. She made her way across the room toward an exit on the other side of the bar. A sign had been placed next to it. In large letters it declared the races were that way and an accompanying red arrow below the words indicated which direction to go. They disappeared through the doorway.
I watched as several other couples exited through the door. As with Mistress Liliana and John, the slave had been decorated like an equestrian showpiece. One was a woman who had been smeared with glitter across all exposed parts of her body. This gave her the appearance that she somehow possessed magical powers like some perverted My Little Pony. Her headdress was larger than John’s and quite elaborate. Several other followed, each slave dressed in a similar fashion.
Master Jason rose and grasped my hand in his. We made our way to another exit on the other side of the bar. When we emerged outside, we were high above the ground facing what appeared to be a track. It swept across our field of sight and around a corner where I observed a set of bleachers had been erected. Several onlookers were already taking their seats as the ponies prepared to race.
The pony-slaves were lined up along the track directly across from where we were now seated. Some stomped the ground with their boots, obviously trying to get a better fit, but it gave them the appearance of a real horse shuffling their hooves in the dirt anticipating the start of something big.
Behind each slave, a cart big enough for someone to stand on was set and long poles were extending up toward their waists where they had been inserted into rings and fastened into place. I could see several figures behind the slaves, long-handled paddles in their hands, talking amongst each other. Most likely making internal wagers on whose pony was the best and which one would take home the gold.
Most of the figures holding the paddles, preparing for their ride, were petite figures. Obviously it would be easier for one of the ponies to move around the track if they were not forced to drag a larger individual around behind them. They reminded me of the horse jockeys at the races I attended with my mother on occasion. Mistress Liliana was present as well. She preferred to command her own pony and was small enough to do so without causing John to strain unnecessarily.
The figures behind the slaves fell into position when the noticed Mas
ter Jason and I were in place. We had taken our seats on smaller versions of the thrones in the great hall that had been set close to the banister of the balcony we now occupied. Mounting the platforms that had been fastened to each pony, they readied themselves to begin. In the distance, several horns blew to indicate them to prepare to start.
I watched Master Jason pick up a large wooden handle and raise it slightly over shoulder height. He smiled down at the ponies and let them shuffle a bit in the dirt, anticipating the signal to start. He struck a large, metal gong next to where he stood and they took off. As they ran, knees lifting high, the jockeys paddled them from behind. Each strike almost lifting them up off the ground as they struggled to gracefully. I watched as John and the female, glitter covered slave ran neck-in-neck around the track and disappeared around the bend. They appeared a few seconds later on the long end of the track opposite where we sat, John had taken the lead. I was secretly glad for him as I knew if he disappointed Mistress Liliana, there would be Hell to pay later.
As they rounded the last bend, I watched as the female slave began to overtake John. Mistress Liliana pounded him relentlessly with her paddle, but it did no good. John had spent his energy early on and was running out of steam. He lifted his knees higher in attempt to get a longer stride. When they crossed the finish line, the female in the lead by a nose, the crowd who had gathered to observe cheered. I saw John’s shoulders slump forward slightly in disappointment. The female slave proceeded to trot around the track triumphantly. Her jockey guided her around the track once more so that everyone could view tonight’s champion. Mistress Liliana watched them, a disgruntled look plastered on her face.
Liliana shook her head slowly from side to side a clear sign of her disappointment in her slave. John’s chest heaved with his previous efforts and I could see the sweat glistening in the moonlight. He knew he was in for severe punishment, but it was quite clear he was more upset with his failure to win. It was a slave’s place to perform to their greatest ability and make their master, or mistress in this case, shine above all else. He had not done so this evening.
Right on cue, Mistress Liliana guided John around the track just around the bend to the first set of bleachers. She stopped her chariot and steed in front of the awaiting audience. As I looked on, she removed the two poles that were fixed to his waist and ordered him to kneel on the ground facing away from the crowd. More people gathered to see the spectacle that was about to unfold.
Mistress Liliana proceeded to whack John numerous times with her long-handled paddle. Landing perfectly on either side of the pony tail phallus that was still firmly in place. The ferocious look on her face no doubt reflected her anger for losing perfectly. Her eyes flashed with each swing of her paddle. She continued to strike John repeating her motions for each side of his buttocks. With each blow, John was forced forward causing him to occasionally have to reach out with his arms to avoid falling onto his face. I could see in his face he was humiliated completely and for a brief moment, I felt a tiny bit sorry for him.
The triumphant, female pony-slave exited the track, as guided by her jockey, and approached an area just below our balcony. Master Jason was presented with his champion. Natalia. I came to know her name as it was announced that she was the triumphant pony and her jockey was presented with a dozen blood-red roses. Natalia held her head up high, the glitter on her skin had mixed with the sweat of her activities and made her glow brightly. She was very proud as her master approached from the side, retrieving the reins from her jockey. Her master bowed at the waist in our direction then turned waving to the crowd proudly. Cheers rang out from the audience and her master smiled from ear-to-ear like a child who had just viewed his Christmas loot waiting under the tree for him to unwrap each gift.
As we left the balcony, several people stayed outside, clustered together in small groups. The distant murmur of conversation reached my ears as we went through the arched entry back into the mail hall.
Mistress Liliana had already made it back inside. It was quite clear she was very disappointed in her slave, and John knew it. He looked disappointed, in himself mostly, in the fact that he would not leave the champion this evening. That did not sit too well with Liliana, she did not like to lose and the look on her face spoke volumes as to her intentions. She would punish John for losing, especially for losing in front of her comrades.
I greeted Liliana as we entered the hall and made our way back to our thrones. I was attempting to distract her from her anger, perhaps calm her down a little. I knew what was in store for John and I sympathized with him. No master should ever punish their slave out of anger, and I would see to it that did not happen. At least not on my watch.
Liliana’s eyes lit up when I she saw me as I waved to her. She approached us slowly and indicated to John to take his usual place. John lowered himself to his hands and knees and crawled toward his pedestal. It was a little more difficult for him with his headdress on, but he managed to do so without losing his balance. He took his place next to where she usually sat and sat up in a crouching position.
I looked over toward my throne where I observed that Matthew remained. He had stayed on his pedestal next to my throne obediently as I had not invited him out onto the balcony. I smiled as his eyes caught my glance. His natural ability to serve always stirred up emotions inside me, at that moment, I wanted to lay him out on a bed of silk sheets and taunt him with my desire. He returned the smile slightly, secretly acknowledging his deep feelings for me. I could always count on my pet to maintain his place and therefore make me appear as the commanding Goddess that I was.
As we took our seats on our thrones once again, a servant immediately approached, eyes cast down, to see if we required anything. I indicated I would just like a glass of ice water with a slice of lemon and Master Jason concurred. Mistress Liliana opted for something a little harder, Vodka and cranberry juice. They both then turned their attention to me.
“Well, Goddess,” Master Jason addressed me, “what do you think of the races?” He smiled at me. Jason was quite pleased with himself. They looked at me waiting for me to reply.
“It was very interesting. I found it quite exciting. I would definitely like to see more activities like that,” I was not lying, it was quite intrigued. I had never seen the pony races, only heard of such things and the spectacle I had observed tonight did not disappoint .
The server returned with our drinks and gave the others theirs first. He made his way to me and came up close so he could whisper in my ear. I flinched slightly, not used to anyone invading my personal space in that manner. I felt his breath on my ear as he began to speak.
“The gentleman at the bar,” he tilted his head in that direction to point without using his hands, “the drinks are on him with his compliments.” I looked in the direction he had indicated and was caught off guard yet again at what I saw.
-20-
Gordon Roth sat perched on one of the tall back stools that lined the bar. My breath caught in my chest and the room swayed slightly behind my eyes. I reached out and pulled the server closer so I could talk to him without the others hearing.
“How long has that man been here?” I demanded of the server, almost shaking him.
“Goddess,” he started slowly so as not to invoke my anger, “that man has been here every weekend for several months looking for you. Each time he arrives, he asks for you and you have not been here, yet he continues to come. He appears quite enamored with you,” the server stopped speaking and looked at me expectantly. I loosened my grip on him and allowed him to stand back up.
“Thank you,” I stated flatly. He scurried off across the room and I turned my attention to Master Jason. He could see by the look on my face I was visibly upset.
“What is it Goddess?” Master Jason looked genuinely concerned. “He is here again,” I whispered to him. I had started to panic.
Not realizing Master Jason did not know who I was talking about, I rambled on for several moments. He list
ened intently as I explained why I had suddenly left last time and that the same man was now seated comfortably in my world at the bar intended for people like us, not narcissistic, egomaniacal jerks. I thumbed over my shoulder in Gordon Roth’s direction to indicate finally who I was referring to.
Master Jason chuckled, glancing at me sideways with a wily smile on his face. He appeared amused by my dilemma.
“Goddess, this is your realm. Your kingdom. If you do not wish him here, have him removed. It is as simple as that,” as he stopped speaking I realized he was right. I was in control here, not Mr. Gordon Roth. This was my world and these were my subjects. They did as I commanded and I could have him shown out in a matter of seconds. I felt silly for reacting so harshly the last time. I had left instead of having him removed.
Before I could make the order to have Mr. Roth escorted out of the Red Velvet Room, he had approached the VIP area. He stopped just short of the red ropes that cordoned off our section and looked at me, silently asking for permission to come forward. It was quite clear he knew the pecking order around here. I hesitated, not wanting him to come anywhere near me at first. I took a deep breath and finally signaled for him to approach, causing the two servants who had flanked him on either side out of nowhere to drop back and allow him to come forward.
“Goddess,” he started to speak slowly, his tone was low and soft and I was surprised at this. I had never heard Gordon Roth speak so quietly. Internally I was smiling and somewhere in my mind, I could hear the cheers of triumph. Mr. Roth continued.
“I have been coming every weekend for several months hoping to find you, to speak to you, to earn your favor. I am taken aback by you, by your ability to command with such ease. I have observed your technique and feel I am ready, and willing to be trained by you,” I was floored. I almost asked him to repeat himself as I was not sure that he was really saying what he was saying. His eyes bore into me, large saucers like a child begging for more dessert. I did not know how to reply and certainly was not inclined to agree to such requests on the spot.
Goddess: A Femme Domme Erotica Novel Page 13