Mistress Extreme

by Alex Jordaine

  The first roll of the dice gave Caroline her choice of slave. She chose David, leaving Kate with Matthew, and Isabella with Tony. Another roll of the dice made Isabella the clock watcher except when it was her turn to torment Tony; and a final couple of shakes of the dice determined that Kate and Matthew would go first, Isabella and Tony after that, and then Caroline and David.

  The result of that final roll of the dice, the one determining that David would be the last of the slaves to be tormented, troubled him greatly. It was psychologically the worst place to be, he was sure of it. That was because he would know exactly what time he had to exceed in order to win this sadistic game that Isabella had devised. And he desperately wanted to win it, desperately wanted to meet what Isabella had described as his “greatest challenge yet”. All these tests and challenges must be leading somewhere surely, he told himself. If he won this big one – who knew? – he might even be promoted to being something more than a mere “diversion” in Isabella’s life. He could but hope.

  As David watched Kate take Matthew to the centre of the dungeon, he was struck yet again by the blonde domme’s great beauty and by what a lovely body she had, with her firm breasts tipped with dark nipples that seemed always to be aroused, her shapely thighs and her prominent, hairless mound.

  It was amazing to think that this truly formidable dominatrix, who was doubtless about to beat the living daylights out of his best friend Matthew, had once been Isabella’s slave. Indeed she would always remain her slave when push came to shove, as he’d clearly witnessed a month ago at Club Depravity. To think that he’d actually been sucked off by Kate. To think that he’d actually been sucked off by Matthew as well, that he’d sucked him off too, and been buggered by him as well – all of it in the context of the kind of heavy duty S&M sessions that would have shocked most people in the vanilla world to the very core. It was all so surreal, so amazing. David felt himself utterly submerged now in a world of such extreme perversion and deviancy that almost anything was possible.

  He watched as his best friend began to be put through his paces. Matthew placed his arms above his head and Kate attached his wrists to the leather cuffs on the ends of the two ceiling chains. She stood to his front and masturbated him for a while, her fingers expertly playing the length of his stiff cock, before suddenly moving her hands to his chest. Kate squeezed both of his nipples at the same time and very hard too, making him gasp with pain.

  She then moved behind Matthew and told him to bend forward as far as the chains would allow. ‘Time for a spanking,’ she said before raising her hand high and bringing it down with a hard slap that made him cry out. Kate raised her hand again and brought it down a second time as swiftly and as hard as the first stroke and then kept on spanking Matthew until his backside glowed as red as an angry sunset.

  Next Kate switched to the red leather flogger, which she went on to use remorselessly on Matthew’s already punished rear, the whip landing each time with a sharp crack that resounded noisily around the dungeon. By the time she stopped whipping him, his backside was heavily marked with stripes and he was whimpering in agony.

  Kate detached Matthew from the ceiling chains and told him to get on to his knees. His erection hung stiffly between his thighs as he knelt down. ‘Lick the high heeled boot I am pointing at, slave,’ she instructed, gesturing towards her right foot. ‘Worship it with your mouth.’ Matthew obeyed without hesitation, bending his head forward and pressing his lips against the pointed toe of the red boot. He slid his eager tongue along the leather, his lips caressing the smoothness of it.

  ‘Lie on your back,’ Kate ordered next. ‘Suck the heels of my boots.’ Again, he obeyed instantly, his throbbing shaft rearing in the air. Matthew sucked first one and then the other of the shiny red daggers that were Kate’s high heels as she presented them to him in turn. He was utterly absorbed in this ritual, concentrating intently on worshipping Kate’s high heels.

  Matthew’s climax came all of sudden, taking him completely unawares, when Kate quickly moved her boot away from his face to his crotch and dug its heel against his pulsing cock. The sharp pain combined straight away with the delirious pleasure of orgasm. Matthew called out, a wordless explosion of anguish and desire, as he spurted his climax across her heel. Kate brought the heel back to his lips. There was no need to wait for her command; Matthew took the hard point of her heel in his mouth, sucking off his come and swallowing it down as his erection began to subside.

  ‘Thirty minutes, give or take a second or two,’ Isabella announced as she handed over clock-watching duties to Caroline. She added with undisguised relish, ‘It’s my turn to do some serious tormenting now.’ Isabella led Tony to the centre of the dungeon and secured his wrists to the ceiling chains above his head.

  The dominatrix then took hold of the flogger and whipped Tony’s chest, each blow stinging and sharp, before switching to his genitals, concentrating her blows on his helplessly exposed cockhead and causing him to yelp with pain. Isabella whipped Tony’s rear next, every skilfully aimed lash striking him in a regular rhythm. She showered his backside with blows until it was covered in lacerations.

  Isabella then detached Tony from the ceiling chains and led him over to the horizontal torture chair, telling him to get on to it on his back. She buckled his wrists behind his head, his knees up and his legs wide apart.

  Isabella put on a sizeable strap-on dildo and coated it liberally with lubricant. She eased it into Tony’s anus and he let out a groan, his cock throbbing and spurting out pre-come as his sphincter tightened and relaxed around the large intruder now lodged inside him. Isabella began to fuck Tony hard. As she built up ever greater momentum, she also started pulling his cock, her hand moving with a swift rhythm. Eventually Tony could take no more and he ejaculated, the come leaping out of his aching cock and spilling in pools across his stomach.

  ‘Well done, Tony – 33 minutes,’ Caroline proclaimed as she watched Isabella release him from the torture chair. The flame haired dominatrix, who was clearly more than a little impatient to get started herself by this stage, added: ‘At last it’s time for my turn and I can’t fucking wait.’

  Isabella moved back to her former position as she unbuckled her well used strap-on, and returned to watching the clock. Sweet Jesus, David said to himself in dismay. He would have to keep going for more than 33 minutes to win this game. That was a very tall order, a very tall order indeed. Isabella hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d told him this would be his toughest challenge yet.

  Caroline told David to get off his knees and as she strode briskly across the dungeon, pulling him along by the hair, it was evident that here was a woman who definitely meant business. She attached his wrists to the ceiling chain cuffs very quickly and immediately set-to with the dark red flogger like some sort of a whirling dervish. Caroline whipped David’s chest, genitals, back and rear in an onslaught of fury that was unrelentingly cruel and seemed to him to go on forever. On and on she flogged David until his body was thoroughly striped with the marks of the whip and he was enveloped in acute pain.

  His wet-tipped cock was hugely erect, though, and Caroline began to masturbate him. She worked her hand urgently up and down the hard shaft that became increasingly smeared with pre-come until her fingers were covered with copious amounts of the fluid and David felt, despite his best efforts, on the verge of climaxing. ‘Lick my fingers clean,’ she told him. David opened his mouth and closed his lips around Caroline’s fingers, sucking feverishly while desperately willing his impending orgasm to subside.

  David then did something he instantly regretted: He looked over at the clock. He couldn’t believe it. Only 20 minutes had passed since the start of his torment. He could have sworn it had been longer than that – at least half an hour, surely. Christ, it had felt like an eternity. David didn’t look at the clock again, but from that point on he couldn’t get its insistent ticking out of his head. The clock ticked with agonising slowness and seemed to him to become ever more audib
le.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  That noise was like water torture to David. It was a constant reminder of how much longer he would have to hold out if he had any hope at all of winning this game. And David so much wanted to win. It was his chance to really prove himself to Isabella once and for all. But who was he trying to kid? He had almost ejaculated a moment ago. Time was most definitely not on his side. He was between a rock and a hard place. Correction, he was between a clock and a hard place.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  Hard cock.

  Hard cock.

  Caroline began to whip him furiously between the legs, aiming her blows first at the insides of his thighs and between the anus, and then at his genitals, concentrating on his painfully hard cock. Each blow to his aching shaft made him flinch convulsively.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  Whip cock.

  Whip cock.

  Caroline then detached David from the ceiling chains and led him over to the horizontal torture chair where she told him to lie on his back. Her fingers working very quickly indeed, she strapped his wrists behind his head and his legs wide apart.

  David’s whole body now ached with extreme pain yet was permeated as well with extreme pleasure as Caroline continued to do her very worst. She masturbated him again, her hand moving up and down the length of his stiffness quicker and quicker.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  Pull cock.

  Pull cock.

  Caroline leant forward so that she could suck David’s cock, rounding her lips and closing them around his hardness, taking it into her mouth, pressing against the head of his shaft with her tongue. She pushed herself further forward so that she could pull more of his length into her mouth. The up-and-down movement of her head went ever faster as she sucked his cock harder and harder.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  Suck cock.

  Suck cock.

  While continuing to suck David’s cock voraciously, Caroline pinched his nipples savagely hard. He felt great pain; he felt great pleasure. The clock was ticking; her mouth was sucking.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  Suck cock.

  Suck cock.

  If he could just hold out, David told himself desperately, if he could just hold out, if he could … but he couldn’t any more and finally reached the end of the line. He climaxed convulsively, pumping out great surging waves of come deep into Caroline’s throat, the sound of that accursed clock even then still ticking in his head.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  But had he made it? He looked over at Isabella. She looked at the clock and back at David, her expression betraying nothing. Finally, she said, ‘Thirty five minutes.’ He’d made it all right – just barely. He was the winner, the “Last slave standing”.

  A long moment passed. Then David took it upon himself to speak to Isabella, he simply had to. ‘I wonder if I could ask you to do me a real favour, Mistress,’ he said, his voice panting, his breathing laboured.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  ‘What might that be, slave?’ she asked, her face still unreadable.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  ‘Could you please, please, please take the battery out of that clock!’

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  Kill clock.

  Kill clock.

  Tick tock.

  Tick tock.

  Ki …

  Chapter Thirty

  Shortly after that hard-won triumph things changed radically for David, changed more radically than he could have dared dream possible. The next time Isabella phoned, it was to tell him she wouldn’t be phoning him again. His first reaction was to gasp in horror, his stomach lurching. David began to protest but Isabella immediately cut him short, telling him to let her finish what she’d started to say. There would be no need for her to phone him again, she went on. He had proved himself a good and loyal slave and had responded well to all the challenges she had thrown at him, not least that last one. Now the ‘Last slave standing’ could have his well deserved reward.

  Isabella informed David that she wanted him to move into her Brighton home and be her full time house-slave. In this capacity he would be bound by a number of rules: He must, of course, continue to always call her “Mistress” and should avoid speaking to her unless directly addressed. He would be required to remain naked at all times in the house or its secluded rear garden unless she instructed him otherwise. He would be expected to clean her shoes and boots to a perfect, mirror-like finish, and undertake a whole range of other menial tasks for her to a similar high standard: cooking, cleaning, gardening, and so on. He was never to masturbate unless she had given her express permission for him to do so, Isabella emphasised.

  She said that he would also be required to sign a slave contract, a copy of which she had just that minute e-mailed to him. Isabella told David to click on his e-mail and scan the contents of the agreement right there and then, which he did. The contract contained the following conditions, by which, the document made clear, David would be required to conscientiously abide all the time:

  I will serve and please Isabella Stern, my Mistress and owner. I will always obey any instruction Mistress gives me without question, without fail and to the very best of my abilities.

  Above everything else my first priority will always be to please Mistress, my most earnest desire being that she should find me pleasing in all that I do, whether I am in her presence or not.

  I worship Mistress totally.

  Mistress’s power fills me with the utmost wonder and awe.

  Both my body and my mind are entirely the property of Mistress.

  I am always under the control of Mistress, whether or not I am in her presence, ready and willing to please her at any time, anywhere and under any circumstances, regardless of who may be present.

  My place is kneeling before Mistress, for it is the greatest privilege and honour imaginable to be her house-slave

  After allowing David enough time to peruse the document, Isabella gave him a couple of final pieces of information before telling him to put his affairs in order, lock up his house and get himself over to her place with minimum delay.

  As her house-slave, she said, he would have his own modest quarters in her home. These would have a small en-suite bathroom and would be furnished with the bare essentials: a bed, a chest of drawers and a wardrobe. But such details were of little consequence, she went on to advise. This was because, apart from carrying out the various menial tasks he’d have to undertake, he could expect to spend pretty much the rest of his waking hours in her dungeon where she intended to discipline him constantly. Isabella proved only too true to her word. It was in that dungeon also that she and David finally became lovers. Of sorts

  Isabella, her face pale and luminous in the half-light of the dungeon, was a vision of loveliness in black leather. She was wearing a choker, a bra that merely framed her magnificent breasts, leaving them completely exposed; a tiny slit-sided skirt underneath which she was naked, and very high-heeled boots that had been polished to a gleaming shine – by David of course. He was standing before her, nude but for a leather head harness including a blue ball gag, a slave’s collar, and wrist and ankle cuffs; his cock was rigidly erect.

  ‘Hold your hands above your head,’ Isabella demanded before squeezing his nipples, tightening fingers and thumbs over them so hard that it made his eyes water.

  ‘You’re my whipping boy, David,’ she said next, her tone of voice mocking. ‘So, what better place for you to be than over the whipping bench.’ Isabella told him to bend over the bench and he mov
ed to obey, laying his belly over its top.

  The dominatrix picked up a leather whip and began lashing David’s back and rear with great energy, sometimes using downward motions of the whip and sometimes upward motions. She paused for a short while and the acute pain David was suffering reduced slightly to a hard insistent throbbing that echoed the throbbing of his erect cock. Maybe she’s about to stop, he thought.

  ‘What’s that I sense you thinking, slave?’ Isabella asked. ‘You need me to be even more vicious. Is that right? Is that what you want?’ David nodded his reply uncertainly. Yet it was true, God knows; there never was anything more true.

  Isabella really went for it then, pulled out all the stops. She switched to a cat o’nine tails and used it to whip David mercilessly. On and relentlessly on she punished him, stroke after searing stroke, until the ferocious pain he was suffering caused him to sob in agony beneath his gag.

  ‘Oh dear, I appear to have broken your skin in several places,’ Isabella said in a tone of blatantly bogus sympathy as she examined David’s severely punished rear. ‘You must be in considerable pain, is that so?’ He bowed his head in response and continued sobbing beneath his gag.

  ‘No matter,’ she announced cheerfully. ‘No gain without pain.’

  Isabella then allowed David to get up from the whipping bench but immediately pulled him down to a kneeling position again, this time on to the dungeon floor itself. She did this by yanking on the chain to his nipple clamps, causing sharp pain to burn into his flesh.

  Next Isabella got on to her knees herself in front of David, saying, ‘Let’s take this thing off.’ She removed his combined head harness and ball gag. She then stood up before him, her legs apart. ‘Worship my sex,’ she commanded. ‘Go on, lick my pussy.’