‘Sure.’ Sadie went over to the door and opened it. ‘Slave, I’m ready for them now,’ she shouted down the corridor.
She held the door open and, a moment later, the slave appeared followed by a man in full tarty drag including a wig and make-up and a hooded man in a body harness. The slave led them into the room and over to the area in front of the curtains. He pointed at the floor and both of them got to their knees.
‘Great. Now if you’ll just go over and stand by them and give them some silent orders, that should look great for the camera . . . thanks.’ Dan stood by the slaves. ‘And I’ll do my bit here. Is that OK for you, Dave?’
‘Yep.’ Dave put the camera on his shoulder and walked over to them. ‘OK. We’ll start rolling and you start when you’re ready.’
Dan faced the camera. He waited until Dave gave him the nod that he’d begun to roll.
‘This is Mistress Sadie’s dungeon. She’s what’s known as a professional dominatrix. You’ll remember that I met Sadie at Madame Cyn’s party and she invited me along to do some filming here. We’re going to see a couple of sessions today, with a variety of clients, all of whom have kindly given us permission. As you can see, the clients are masked or otherwise disguised to protect their identities. I’ve got no idea what to expect, but I’m pretty certain it’s going to be an eye-opener.’
Dan took a step closer to the camera and leaned forwards as if he was sharing a secret. ‘Apart from anything I’m as nervous as hell because Sadie’s somehow got me to agree to a private session with her so what happens here today might be a little taster of what I can look forward to and, frankly, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to handle it. Anyway. Let the fun begin. Sadie . . . it’s over to you.’ He stepped out of shot.
Sadie touched the transvestite on the shoulder. ‘Will you get up and stand over there, please?’ He got to his feet and walked over to the whipping bench. He was wearing a floaty turquoise top and a shiny PVC miniskirt with a deep slit up the back. When he reached the bench he turned and clasped his hands in front of him, awaiting further orders.
The man in the harness remained on his knees, looking up at Sadie. He was already breathing heavily. Sadie removed an implement from her utility belt. She pressed a button at the top and it extended and Dan saw that it was a retractable riding crop.
Sadie swished the crop noisily through the air. The hooded man flinched. Dan could see him blinking through the mask’s small eyeholes. His breathing had grown noisy and the leather around his mouth seemed to alter the sound and make it seem urgent and amplified.
‘Bend over.’ Sadie pressed her hand down on the back of the man’s neck and he eagerly complied, thrusting his arse high into the air.
Sadie began to walk around the man. Her stiletto heels clacked noisily against the flagstones. She used the tip of the crop to trace along his spine and down the crack of his arse. She extended one foot, placing it right under his nose. He seized it between both hands and began to lick, panting and slobbering as he covered the leather with his eager tongue.
Dan could see that the man’s body was trembling and that the upturned soles of his feet were stained with dust from the floor. Sadie withdrew her foot sharply and the man gasped in shock and disappointment. For a moment he didn’t move, his cupped hands still in position, then he put both palms flat on the floor and lowered his head.
Sadie walked to his other end and brought the crop down across the meat of his buttocks. It swished through the air and landed with a crack, knocking the man forwards with a grunt. Dan glanced at Dave to make sure he was getting the shot and saw that he’d moved round and was zooming in on the man’s beaten arse.
She hit him again. The crop cracked and a raised dark stripe instantly appeared. Dan’s heart seemed to be in his throat. He watched as Sadie lifted the crop high into the air. She brought it down and it landed with a crack that made the man grunt and his body judder.
Dan wasn’t sure if it was the pain that had made him grunt or pleasure. Both, he supposed, though it was hard to imagine how that much pain could feel good, even though the evidence of his own eyes clearly told him that it was. The man’s arse was criss-crossed with angry scarlet stripes now and a few dark bruises were already visible.
Sadie lifted the crop. Dan could see her chest heaving. There was a fine sheen of sweat on her exposed cleavage. She lowered the crop, delivering a stinging blow that resounded around the bare room and made the man gasp and jerk forwards and Dan realised he had been holding his breath.
She retracted the crop and hooked it back onto her belt. ‘I think that’s enough for now. Straighten up please.’
The man slowly raised himself up onto his knees and gazed up at her. Sadie beckoned to the slave. As he walked the short distance to her, Dan noticed that he was no longer wearing his ankle cuffs and chain. When he reached her side he bowed respectfully and stood to attention. ‘I’d like you to piss on him, please. I think he needs cooling down a little.’
‘Yes, mistress.’ The slave unzipped his shorts and pushed them down over his buttocks. He slid his hand inside and pulled out his cock. He stepped up to the hooded man and took up the universal stance of a man about to relieve himself. Dan couldn’t help noticing that he was particularly well endowed and, for a moment, experienced a sharp stab of envy until he realised that, as Sadie’s slave, he was probably seldom permitted to use the monster on her or even allowed relief.
‘I’m sorry, mistress –’ the slave’s voice sounded frustrated and ashamed ‘– but I’m having trouble going.’
‘So I see . . . too aroused no doubt. But I suggest you try to do as I’ve asked. I’ll be punishing you later for failing to obey instantly. If you fail completely the punishment will be twice as harsh.’ Sadie’s voice was cold and severe. Dan felt an icy shiver slide up his spine.
‘Yes, mistress.’ The man closed his eyes.
A moment later he sighed and the urine began to flow. It trickled down the hooded man’s body and tinkled onto the stone floor. Dan heard him gasp and he began to shake his head as the urine stung his eyes.
Sadie stood several feet away, out of range of the splashing urine, and watched, expressionless, as the slave pissed. The slave gazed down at the man, his eyes shining with intensity and excitement. When he’d finished he shook his cock and squeezed his foreskin over the tip, shaking off the last drips.
‘Now, I think our guest ought to thank Slave for giving him such a nice shower. Open wide . . .’
The hooded man shuffled forwards and raised his head. Dan took a step closer. He could see the man gazing up at the slave. Dan could hardly breathe. Time seemed to have slowed down. The sound of his own heartbeat throbbed in his brain.
The client opened his mouth and the slave slid the tip of his cock along the man’s lower lip. For a second, an image flashed into Dan’s mind of a believer kneeling at the altar rail for the communion wafer. The man stuck out his tongue and began to lick. Dan saw the slave’s legs quiver as the supplicant’s tongue made contact with his tender flesh. The hooded man opened his mouth and swallowed him to the root. The slave tilted back his head and moaned.
‘You’re a cock-loving cissy, aren’t you?’ Sadie’s voice was full of contempt. ‘Not a man at all.’
Dan’s watched the man and the slave, each lost in his own pleasure. He tried to imagine himself in the scenario, first imagining himself as the slave, receiving pleasure from the faceless client, then as the hooded man, stinking of piss with his mouth full of cock. He couldn’t decide which was the lesser of two evils. All he knew was that his heart was beating so loudly he was sure it must be audible over his radio mike. His cock tingled.
‘Can you see how much he loves it, Dan? How much he loves me to humiliate and abuse him.’ Sadie bent down and fingered the man’s nipple. His body juddered but he didn’t stop sucking.
The kneeling man’s hand slid unconsciously to his crotch. His fingers pulled at the studded metal codpiece. Dan was pretty sure that he must
be hard underneath it. He knew that, if it were him, he’d want to rip off the leather and free his erection. He’d begin to wank, stroking it urgently in his tight fist as the slave fucked his face and he wouldn’t stop until he’d shot his hot seed all over the stone floor.
Dan heard the clack of Sadie’s boot heels against the flagstones. The kneeling man was so focused on sucking the slave’s cock and fingering his own crotch that he didn’t notice Sadie approaching and removing a long swishy cane from her utility belt. She flicked the cane’s slender tip across the back of the man’s fingers. He snatched back his hand, grunted and spat out the slave’s cock. He hung his head.
‘Sorry, mistress.’ His voice was full of shame and contrition.
‘I should think so. Go over there.’ She pointed. ‘Now!’
The man began to stand up, but Sadie pushed him back down.
‘On your knees.’
The man crawled slowly away, his head hanging in shame. When he’d reached the whipping bench Sadie walked across and spent a moment cuffing him to one of the bench’s many restraints. She had chosen one close to the ground so that the man had no choice but to bend forwards, his head practically on the floor. When she’d finished, Sadie stood up and delivered two stinging strokes of the cane across the man’s upturned arse.
‘Thank you, mistress.’ The man’s voice was quiet and Dan thought he sounded broken and ashamed.
‘You.’ Sadie pointed at the transvestite. ‘Follow me.’ Sadie walked back over to the slave and he followed. ‘Kneel down.’
The transvestite looked down at the floor, clearly conflicted. ‘But . . . the floor is dirty, mistress.’
‘I’m well aware of that but when I issue an order I expect it to be obeyed.’
He got down on his knees. Dan noticed that he achieved the manoeuvre with considerable elegance in spite of his high heels.
‘Wank into his face please, slave. And get a move on, because I haven’t got all day.’ Sadie walked over to her throne and sat down, affecting boredom.
The transvestite waited, his face upturned and expectant. The slave gripped his cock in his fist and began to wank. Dan saw his eyes close as he slid his foreskin backwards and forwards over his swollen helmet. He could see that the slave’s balls were already riding his shaft and the tip of his cock was glistening with pre-come.
Dan saw Dave step closer to them, focusing in on the scene. Dennis shadowed his steps so as not to disturb the cables that linked his mixer to the camera. Dan’s cock was half hard. Sweat prickled in his armpits.
The transvestite wore a long blonde wig. He was elaborately made up with green eye shadow and exaggeratedly arched Elizabeth Taylor eyebrows. His lips were a shiny tarty red and they glistened in the bright lights. Dan could see his stocking tops and a couple of inches of pale thigh peeking out from under the hem of his skirt.
The slave was wanking furiously. He was grunting and panting. His half-lowered shorts cut across the bottom of his buttocks. A smudge of fading bruises marked the outer edge of one of his cheeks and a fresher series of stripes could be seen at the top of his thighs.
Dan’s face felt hot. His crotch ached. He noticed that the slave’s legs seemed to be quivering. He was rubbing his cock in short urgent strokes. He reached down with his other hand and began to stroke his balls. The transvestite’s eyes glistened. He licked his painted lips.
The slave began to gasp and shake. He pulled back his foreskin with a sudden urgent motion and Dan saw his cock begin to twitch and spurt. A strand of thick creamy come splashed onto the transvestite’s face, right across his mouth. A second squirt splashed across his cheek.
He knelt motionless with eyes closed as rope after rope of hot sperm landed on his face. His hands, resting on his parted thighs, were clenched and trembling. An obvious erection stuck up under the front of his skirt.
The fine hairs on the back of Dan’s neck were erect and tingling. When the slave stopped coming he didn’t move. He looked down at the transvestite, cock still in hand as he got his breath back.
‘Rub it into his face please,’ Sadie called over from her chair, her voice sounding distracted and bored.
The slave released his cock and rubbed his sperm all over the transvestite’s face, smearing his make-up. Soon his face was a filthy mess of colour and gleaming sperm.
When the slave was finished he looked at his dirty hand in disgust then pulled up and zipped his shorts. Sadie walked slowly over to the two men. She unhooked the cane from her belt and used its slender tip to lift the front of the transvestite’s skirt. She turned to the slave.
‘What’s the meaning of this? Our guest is improperly dressed. You know perfectly well that you should have given him a cache-sex to wear. If I’d wanted to see his worthless cock and his pathetic little erection I’d have said so.’
The slave looked at the floor. ‘I’m sorry, mistress, I forgot.’
‘I’m not interested in your excuses. That’s a second demerit you’ve earned yourself and, I assure you, my punishment will be severe. Now take these two out and bring in our next guests.’
The slave escorted out the two men. Sadie turned to Dan. ‘I know he misbehaves because he wants me to punish him and he knows that I know . . .’
‘So how does that work? If you punish him because he wants it isn’t he the one in control? What do they call that? Topping from the bottom?’
Sadie nodded. ‘Yes, that’s right . . . A slave usually wants a particular kind of punishment and that’s what he hopes he’ll get so I always make sure that my punishment is something he neither expects nor desires. Believe me, he knows which one of us is really in charge.’
‘I don’t doubt it.’
Sadie was smiling slightly as she spoke. Her eyes were huge and brown and they seemed to see straight into his soul. Dan couldn’t imagine that anyone would be brave enough to defy her, let alone attempt to manipulate her. He looked away.
‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go and change.’ Sadie walked away.
A moment later the slave appeared leading a man on a lead. He was wearing a hospital gown. At the back it didn’t quite meet so that six inches of buttock was clearly visible. Dan could see that the man already had an erection. The slave led him over to the medical chair and began to fasten him to it with the leather restraints.
The straps and buckles were made of thick leather which creaked as the slave fastened them and lined with sheepskin. When the slave had finished with the patient’s wrists he lifted his legs into the stirrups and fastened the restraints at his ankles.
He folded back the bottom of the man’s gown, exposing his cock, then draped his legs and belly with green cloths, as if in readiness for surgery. Dan could see that the man was trembling with excitement. The slave picked up something metal from a trolley beside the chair and began to fit it to the patient’s mouth. It took Dan a second to realise that it was a gag, the kind used to force a patient’s mouth open during dental surgery.
The door creaked open and Sadie entered the room. She was wearing a rubber outfit which Dan immediately recognised as a parody of a nurse’s uniform. The dress barely reached her bottom, and beneath it she was wearing black fishnet stockings. On her feet were shiny patent leather black lace-up shoes with heels so high and slender that Dan wondered how they could possibly support her weight. She clacked across the room and the patient’s eyes followed her, full of excitement and trepidation.
The final client of the day had been an adult baby. The slave had dragged in an enormous cot and the bonnet-wearing baby had climbed contentedly into it and promptly wet his nappy. Sadie had changed into a flowery matronly dress and she chatted and cooed to the man in baby talk, changing his soiled nappy and dressing him in frilly girly dresses and bibs. At the end of the scene she had unbuttoned her dress and offered him her nipple. He had nestled in her arms, his eyes closed and one hand cupping her breast. It had looked so satisfying, complete and intimate that it was only after the slave had escorted th
e man out that Dan realised there had been no sexual contact at all.
‘I hope you’ve got enough material.’ Sadie closed the door behind the departing client.
‘Plenty, thank you.’
‘And what did you think?’ Sadie smiled, her eyes full of mischief and curiosity.
‘I can’t even begin to answer that . . . some of it was frankly disgusting and some of it was unexpectedly erotic but all of it was fascinating . . .’ Dan hesitated. ‘Can I ask you a question?’
‘Of course. After what you’ve seen today you can’t possibly believe I have anything to hide.’
‘No, you’ve been incredibly open. The last man . . . the adult baby. When you breastfed him it was – I don’t know – utterly captivating. And I couldn’t help wondering . . . are you actually lactating?’
Sadie smiled. She leaned in close and Dan could smell her perfume. ‘Actually I’m not . . . though I rather sense that you’d prefer it if I was. I hope you’re not disappointed.’
Dan laughed. ‘I can see I’ve got a lot to learn. Can we have a chat in a minute? I’ve got a few questions.’
She nodded. ‘Sure. Give me ten minutes and then come up to the kitchen. It’s on the floor above us at the back of the house. I’ll put the coffee on.’
‘See you soon.’ He watched Sadie walk away. He looked over at Dave and Dennis and saw that they were watching the day’s filming on the portable monitor. They wouldn’t miss him for a minute. He left the room and headed down the corridor to the toilet. He locked himself in a cubicle and unzipped his fly. He manhandled his cock, pulling it up over his boxers.
He wrapped his fist around it. It was already half hard, pumped with blood and tingling. His skin felt alive and sensitive. His crotch ached. He pumped his cock and it began to grow, thickening and lengthening until it felt as hard as rock in his hand. His helmet was purple and tight and glistening. He felt his scrotum contracting and thickening as his balls hugged his shaft.
Heat and excitement pumped through his veins. He was gasping and panting. Dan could feel his arse muscles contracting and hardening. His hand pumped rhythmically, slapping noisily against his body on the down-stroke.
A Talent for Surrender Page 9