Mistress Extreme

by Alex Jordaine

  ‘No, Mistress,’ David said. ‘I didn’t want to suck your husband off.’ He had never before had any kind of homosexual experience, not even in the spirit of experimentation. Now look what Isabella had made him do. He would have liked to have eradicated what had happened from his memory. But he knew he’d never be able to do that. He was now officially a cocksucker.

  ‘Do you know what would have happened if you’d refused to suck him off?’ Isabella asked.

  ‘No, Mistress.’

  ‘I’d have dumped you,’ she said. ‘As it is, you’ve just passed your first major test.’

  My first major test, David said or rather thought. What about all the ordeals Isabella had put him through before tonight? Didn’t they count for anything? What did they amount to – no more than a mere bagatelle? And, Christ Almighty, considering what she’d insisted on him doing tonight, what else did she have in mind for him in the future? He felt a sudden cold shiver run through him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The fact that he’d been required to suck off the husband of the woman who was his Mistress while another woman performed cunnilingus on her couldn’t help but get David wondering some more about Mr and Mrs Stern. Isabella had told David that, notwithstanding the fact that they were apart an awful lot of the time, she and her husband’s highly unorthodox relationship was a strong one and that this was the case even though sexually both of them were extremely dominant and sadistic. But he wondered exactly what kind of relationship the couple did have, given that they were both evidently bisexual as well.

  Did the pair of them have multiple partners of both sexes or were they highly selective? Was David actually one of many or should he feel honoured to be one of the chosen few? How much did Isabella and Alan Stern confide in one another? Had Isabella told her husband about all the outlandish things she’d done to David? Had he told her all the outlandish things he’d doubtless done to “the twins”?

  Where were Isabella and Alan Stern now? Maybe they were with Stephanie and Eve. What were they doing with them? Were they having sex with the incestuous twins? Were they enjoying some kind of foursome with them, involving lashings, yes lashings of S&M? Did Isabella ever think about David when she was having sex with other people? He certainly thought about her when he was having sex with himself. He did nothing but think about her, keeping himself going until her next call with memories and fantasies and masturbation – constant masturbation.

  There were gnawing doubts too, about his own relationship with Isabella – if indeed you could call it that, he thought ruefully. Whatever it was that Isabella and he had was based solely on sex and sadomasochism – when she could be bothered to see him at all, that is. How could you call that a relationship in any meaningful sense of the word, especially as it was so one-sided? He worshiped Isabella but she certainly didn’t love him, maybe didn’t even like him. Possibly she actually hated him.

  The thought, barbed as a fish hook, twisted in his mind as he contemplated it further. The more Isabella harmed him, the more pleasure she felt, that was certainly clear. She also delighted in keeping him hanging around waiting to hear from her because she knew all the waiting was agony for him. Maybe she wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d slowly but surely destroyed him altogether.

  Perhaps that was where all this was leading. Look what she’d done to him already, after all. And how had she done it anyway? How, for Christ’s sake? He had a mind of his own – a damn good mind at that; he had free will. How had she reduced him to the person he now was, a compulsive onanist who was cut off from everyone else?

  But, hang on a moment, David said to himself. It wasn’t as if Isabella had ordered him to wank himself stupid all the time she wasn’t there. She hadn’t ordered him either to avoid other people like the plague while waiting for her to call. These were things he’d done to himself, when all was said and done.

  They weren’t the only things he’d done to himself either, were they, and over a much longer period of time too. That was what the voice inside his head decided to tell David all of a sudden. And that voice – that unbidden thought – was like an incendiary device, setting off a depth charge that caused something truly startling to come hurtling up from the very deepest recesses of his memory. It was something David had blanked out completely from his consciousness a very long time ago because it had been simply too awful to contemplate. Was that it? Was that the key to all this madness? Yes, it had to be …

  Then the call came, not from Isabella this time but from Matthew. ‘We’ve not seen anything of each other since my dinner party,’ he said. ‘I’d really love to see you. How about coming over this evening? Caroline’s away at a sales conference at the moment, so it would just be you and me.’ And David said yes. Matthew’s call couldn’t have come at a more opportune time. He had to talk to his best friend about what it was that just that moment had emerged from the darkest depths of his subconscious. His mind was still reeling from the discovery, his pulse still racing. He had to tell Matthew about it. How much more he could confide in him, though, he still didn’t know.

  Matthew lived in Hove, a residential district that had not so many years ago been a separate town to Brighton, although the two places had always been very closely associated. Hove was quieter and more suburban than buzzy, cosmopolitan Brighton, but nonetheless they had always been joined at the hip.

  It was a fine sunny evening, the sky crystal-clear, and David opened the window of his car a little to let in the warm, balmy air. He drove past the open, tree-lined recreation area of Hove Park, which still contained a fair smattering of people enjoying what remained of the day.

  David drove into one of the most pleasant parts of Hove, a tranquil, hilly area of detached houses with in-and-out driveways and sizeable, nicely landscaped gardens. He arrived at Matthew’s home, parked his car in the drive and walked towards the front door, which was opened before he’d even pressed the bell.

  ‘Hello, stranger,’ Matthew said amiably, his pale blue eyes shining. ‘It’s so good to see you.’ Slim, tanned and handsome with shiny blond hair, he was looking relaxed in a crisp white T-shirt, loose-fitting jeans, espadrilles over bare feet.

  ‘It’s really good to see you too,’ said David who was then ushered by Matthew through the hallway and into the large open-plan living room.

  ‘First things first,’ Matthew said. ‘Would you like a drink?’

  ‘Please.’

  ‘Whisky on the rocks?’

  ‘Great, thanks.’

  Matthew mixed them both large whiskies in glass tumblers, adding ice cubes. He handed David one of the tumblers and they sat down together on the couch.

  ‘What have you been up to since we last met?’ Matthew said, taking a sip of his drink.

  ‘You first,’ David said, playing for time. He really didn’t know what to say to his friend, still in two minds whether or not to confide in him about his enslavement to Isabella and all that went with it – particularly if Isabella herself didn’t want him to, something about which he remained unclear. And then there was that other matter, the key to it all surely. He had to discuss that with Matthew some time this evening but, hell, there was no rush. He took a pull from his drink, ice cubes rattling.

  ‘I’ll do better than tell you what I’ve been up to. I’ll show you,’ Matthew said and, after putting his drink on a side table, he leant forward to open an expensive looking oak chest that was positioned close to the couch. To David’s amazement he saw that it was full of various S&M artefacts. He could see a studded paddle, a bamboo cane, an assortment of whips, handcuffs, a muzzle, and several other restraints including a harness, some bondage rope and a couple of reels of bondage tape.

  ‘Caroline doesn’t just sell this stuff,’ Matthew explained, giving David a crooked grin. ‘She likes to use it. Boy, does she ever like to use it! She’s a dominatrix in her private life for much of the time.’

  He went on to tell David that Caroline, whenever the mood was upon her – and it eve
r more frequently was – liked nothing better than to make him submit to her sadistic desires. Matthew said that Caroline kept on pushing his limits further and further in the kinky games they played, and that he loved it. He’d found that he was a real pain-slut. ‘Whenever I’m with her and she’s in a sadistic mood I’m not the man you know, David,’ he said. ‘And I’m certainly not the man my business colleagues in the City think they know. What I am is Mistress Caroline’s grovelling sex slave.’

  ‘I see,’ David said, giving his friend a small smile. ‘How did all this start? What’s the story?’

  Matthew picked up his tumbler and tipped it side to side for a moment, watching the light play over the amber liquid. ‘I’ll tell you, David,’ he replied.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘Looking back, I guess there was a degree of inevitability about what happened,’ Matthew said, smiling reminiscently. ‘I mean, when you’ve fallen head-over-heels in love with a horny redhead who happens to manage a fetish store you can be pretty sure of one thing: your sex-life is likely to get kinkier – and fast. And so it was with me.’ He continued, ‘we’d only been living together for about a week or two when Caroline introduced me to the pleasure of pain …’

  ‘You’ve got a seriously cute arse, Matthew,’ Caroline announced out of the blue. She and he were naked and padding around the bedroom, getting ready for bed. ‘I’d love to spank it.’

  ‘What, right now?’ Matthew replied with a chuckle – and more than a twinge of excitement.

  ‘Why not,’ Caroline replied, her green eyes doing a little dance. ‘No time like the present. Come on,’ she added, sitting on the edge of the four poster bed. ‘Get over my knee.’

  Matthew felt growing excitement at what was about to happen to him, his cock getting harder by the second. It was achingly erect by the time he positioned himself over Caroline’s knee. He waited for the inevitable, his heart racing and his breathing quickening all the while. But Caroline took her own sweet time.

  She stroked his muscular rear sensuously, tantalisingly, over and over again, teasing him unmercifully, and then: Smack! The sharp sound announced that the first spanking Matthew’s backside was ever to receive had finally begun – and the vivid red mark on his rear evidenced the cruel accuracy of that first stroke.

  Smack! Caroline’s hand smacked down again crisply on Matthew’s backside with another harsh spank and his breath quickened further. His breath came even quicker with the third spank and when she spanked him a fourth time, this time even harder, he let out a loud groan of pain.

  But there were many more hard smacks to come, when their bedroom echoed with the sound of hand on naked flesh. Over and over Caroline spanked Matthew. She didn’t let-up and indeed increased the frequency and harshness of her blows. There was no let-up either in Matthew’s erection; it was as throbbingly hard as ever.

  Matthew let out a wail as the full effect of the spanking spread through his body. He was in acute pain yet he could never remember being as sexually excited as this in all his life.

  Having finally stopped spanking Matthew, Caroline ordered him to get on the bed and lie on his back. When he did, his huge erection reared in the air invitingly.

  ‘I can’t wait any longer,’ Caroline said, her voice breathless. ‘Let’s fuck.’

  She straddled Matthew’s thighs and sank down onto him, his cock forced deep and high. It drew a moan from him, from her too. Caroline’s pussy muscles flexed around Matthew’s stiff cock, rocking him, her pussy tight and soaking wet. Matthew carried on moaning with Caroline’s movements and ran his hands over her thighs and her breasts as she rose and fell on him.

  She shuddered hard and cried out loudly, pushing her pussy against his groin as her orgasm rolled through her in mighty waves. Feeling and hearing Caroline come made Matthew want to come too, urgently. He started to thrust his hips upwards fast, plunging into the wetness of her pussy until the sensation was heavy, intense, unrestrained. He climaxed then convulsively, filling her sex with hot spurts of come as he gave himself to the surging sensations that had taken over his body.

  Caroline and Matthew lay damp and spent in each other’s arms for a long while after that, lacquered together in the silence that surrounded them. Matthew knew that what Caroline had done to him that night was not going to be a “one off”. He wondered where it was going to lead. His backside still ached with pain. It felt great.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘That turned out to be just the beginning,’ Matthew said. ‘After that spanking and the wonderful sex that followed it Caroline really started going to town on me.’ He gestured towards the open box crammed with disciplinary items. ‘Since then my sadistic lover Caroline – my beloved dominatrix Caroline – has used everything in there on me at one time or another and in the process I’ve become a complete pain junkie.’ Matthew picked up his tumbler and took a pull of whisky. ‘And that, my good friend, is my story,’ he said. ‘Now it’s your turn. I happen to know that you’ve been seeing Isabella Stern and her sexual interests aren’t exactly a closed book.’ He shot David a knowing grin.

  ‘How do you know I’ve been seeing her?’ David asked, looking surprised.

  ‘Because she told Caroline,’ Matthew replied.

  So, he’d got it wrong, David thought in relief. Isabella hadn’t been keeping their relationship a secret from Caroline and Matthew, as he’d suspected. She was clearly quite happy for them to know about it, and thank goodness for that. ‘Come on,’ Matthew added conspiratorially. ‘Tell your old friend all about it. Spare me none of the sordid details!’

  David wondered what exactly to say. How far should he go in his reply? How explicit should he be? Matthew had been completely honest and open with him about his relationship with Caroline. David told himself that he should be similarly candid with him – and that meant being completely candid. And, taking a large swig of his whisky to give himself some Dutch courage, he decided that completely candid with Matthew was what he would be. And he knew now that there was no question about it – he definitely could confide in his friend about the nature of his relationship with Isabella, particularly under the circumstances he himself had just outlined to David. Matthew was, surely, bound to be simpatico.

  ‘Isabella Stern is my Mistress and I am her slave,’ David said. ‘I’ve been blindfolded and gagged and put into bondage by her. I’ve been beaten by her and I’ve been buggered with a strap-on dildo by her. I’ve been taken out in public by her with my nipples clamped and a huge butt plug shoved up my arse. I’ve been made to masturbate in front of her. I’ve been made to lick up and swallow my own come by her. I’ve been fisted by her, paraded around a fetish club in the nude by her. I’ve been ...’ David paused. He was going to say, “made to suck off her husband by her” but he faltered, couldn’t quite get the words out.

  Matthew unwittingly came to the rescue. ‘What a dark horse you are,’ he said, giving David’s arm a friendly nudge. ‘I didn’t know you were into BDSM at all, never mind to the extent you obviously are. You know you can trust me. You should have said something.’

  ‘I could say the same thing to you,’ David replied. ‘I knew you were bisexual because you told me you were years ago of course, but I had no idea you were a submissive masochist, no idea at all.’

  ‘Nor did I before Caroline and I became lovers and she started dominating me,’ Matthew said. ‘That’s the God’s honest truth.’

  ‘Snap! I didn’t understand that about myself either until I met Isabella,’ David said. ‘She brought something to the surface, something I’ve managed to keep buried for too damn long, so deeply buried in its secret hiding place in my mind that it’s only extremely recently – I mean, like, today, would you believe – that I’ve been able to bring myself to acknowledge it at all.’

  ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Matthew asked, giving his friend a look of concern.

  David rattled the ice cubes in his drink hard. He swallowed the rest of his whisky in one gulp and put
down the tumbler. ‘I think I need to talk about it – badly,’ he said and began his story. ‘It all goes back to the death of one of my parents…’

  Actually, Matthew was well aware that both of David’s parents were dead although he had only known one of them. Matthew could remember David’s father quite well: a likeable enough man, he supposed, as self absorbed workaholics go. He had also been a very heavy smoker, David now reminded him, and had paid a cruel price for his nicotine addiction, dying at 47 from lung cancer. That had been a tragically early death and David, who had been in his late 20s at the time, had been very distressed by it. But the death of his mother had been considerably more devastating to him given that he had only been very young when it had happened. That had been awful enough but what had made it even worse was that the relationship she’d had with him before her tragic and untimely death had been a particularly complex one.

  ‘I was a very difficult youngster and she was a sadist … maybe … perhaps … I don’t know,’ David said, stumbling over the words. He still couldn’t quite bear to acknowledge what his mother had been. ‘What I do know – what I now remember at long last – is that she used to beat me constantly “on the bare”, as they used to say, in order to try to get me to behave, but that it only made me worse because I found I liked being beaten; it made me feel all … tingly. So I would go out of my way to misbehave again, so that she’d beat me again. I remember now, too, exactly how I used to feel, waiting to be beaten by her: all warm and expectant and deliciously shivery. And then there’d be the sensation of her open palm exploding painfully again and again against my bare bottom and afterwards that tingling afterglow. Then there’d be the next incident of bad behaviour on my part, the next beating on the bare bottom from her, and so we both went on. It was like a game we’d play. Then she went and ruined everything. She died.’