Dinner At Jill's By Master Ivan

[mrivan]

Dinner At Jill's
By Master Ivan

It was a hot night. I was bored and felt like eating out. It had been awhile since I had visited Jill's place, so I decided to make a night of it.

I arrived at about eight. The crowd was building, but I managed to sign up for a decent table not far from the stage. After checking my membership and recording my credit card number, I was escorted to my seat.

Perhaps an explanation would be in order. Jill's is a private dinner club, very exclusive, which caters to the leather scene. The customers are usually dominants, or perhaps switchables. The waitresses are slaves. Some of the slaves sign up for an evening, or a few days; others for a week, a month or longer. Some live at the club, under constant training and stiff house discipline. Others are owned by dominant members and are loaned to the club, sometimes on a regular basis.

My slave came for my order. I selected a light wine and a modest Italian dinner -- Veal Marsala with a Caesar's Salad. The girl was dressed in the usual club livery: a silk bikini, red and totally transparent. Her collar was steel, two inches wide and welded on, as were her wrist and ankle shackles. She wore no chains. She wore the universal high-heeled clogs, and I observed that one breast-cup of her top was pulled down, fully exposing her breast.

Any club member could deduce certain things about the slaves by just observing their accoutrements. Slaves were always collared and shackled in steel the first month, then leather thereafter. Any slave with less than a month's commitment for continuous service would have the restraints locked on, whereas a longer period would have the steel welded on her body. After the first month, the steel would be removed and replaced with leather. Again, slaves in intermittent service would have the leather buckled and locked, while more permanent residents would see the restraints riveted on.

Any new slave would be caned on stage as an initiation, followed by her being penetrated in all three of her openings before the same audience. Prior to her initiation, her livery would be white; after, she would wear red. Slaves with over a year's continuous servitude who show proper subservience and attitude can become trainers themselves. They would then wear black livery.

A few slaves wore heavy chains connecting wrists and ankles. These unfortunates were scheduled for punishment on stage that night.

So I knew my slave, with her red livery, had had her public initiation. Her welded steel collar stated that she was enslaved for more than a month's continuous in-house service but that she had not yet served her first full month. Her lack of chains showed she was not scheduled for a public whipping. Her exposed breast indicated some minor recalcitrance in properly displaying her body but was not considered serious.

After ordering my food, I decided on using a suck slave for the evening. One could order service of any type right from the menu, along with the food. Not wanting to take part in the public activity, I preferred laying back and enjoying the show, so I opted to have a slave-girl bound at my seat.

She was brought out minutes later. Petit, full breasted, she was naked, in welded-steel restraints. Her wrists and elbows were already locked behind her. I also chose to have her blindfolded, in rubber -- she would not see my face. I declined the full discipline helmet and the mouth restraints -- I could always add the jaw wedges or a ring-gag later if she was hesitant. I also declined putting her in a chastity belt, although I did choose to have her butt-plugged. An aroused slave always sucks cock with more enthusiasm and sensuality, with less need for the whip. Finally, I ordered a pair of nipple clamps to be available, with an assortment of weights, if I had the urge to punish her.

She was made to kneel under my table. Her collar was padlocked to a ring at the front of my seat. This presented her mouth directly in front of my still concealed cock, ready to serve as I required. I let her wait, my legs on either side of her face.

As my wine arrived, I scanned the slaves bound around the room. At any time, there were usually at least a dozen girls restrained on display. Most were simply naked, wrists chained high overhead, serving part of their regular shift. A few were newcomers, inviting use and selection. Some were under punishment.

A punished slave undergoing public restraint could encounter many possibilities. Sometimes, her wrists would simply be pulled higher, raising the girl to her toes, or suspending her completely. Her tits might be clamped and weighted, bound, or placed in a "Breast Press", effectively a wooden vise, compressing her tits between boards placed above and below and tightened with screws.

She might be chastity-belted, or alternatively, penetrated with dildos or vibrators in her cunt or ass. Thus, she could be denied orgasm, or forced to come regularly in full view of the patrons.

Many times, such slaves were, when not gagged, told to repeat a phrase, for training, punishment or simply to entertain. A training phrase might be, "I am yours, Masters. Please use me." A punished slave might say, "Please, Masters, fuck my ass," while an entertainment phrase might be, "Masters, I love to have my tits squeezed."

More severe punishments could see an inverted, spread-eagled suspension, the use of a rail upon which the girl's cunt would rest supporting her entire weight, or perhaps a humiliation pose: under a table, across the floor at a doorway, or kneeling by the toilets or urinals.

One girl was bound to a pole, her wrists locked above her head and behind the pole, her ankles similarly shackled. Her weight was totally supported by the pair of vibrating dildos filling her cunt and ass. No buttons or switches controlled the dildos. There were two electric eyes nearby. Each time one of the beams was broken, the corresponding dildo would vibrate for two seconds, then stop until the beam was broken again. She was blindfolded, so she could not anticipate when the vibrators would turn on. Her groans of frustration entertained me throughout the evening.

The stage lights came on. An exquisitely beautiful girl came on, dressed in black livery, trimmed in gold.

"Good evening, Masters. I am the slave Miranda, in charge of training here at Jill's. For our entertainment tonight, we will have two initiations, which I hope you will participate in and enjoy. Following that, there will be a demonstration of oriental style rope bondage by Master Andrew, a specialist in the field. To top off the night, there will be a special punishment, featuring two of our slaves who were caught nibbling each other's cunts just last night."

As the audience murmured their approval, the curtain opened, revealing the two offenders, already suffering in punitive bondage.

They were naked, "Riding the Rail", on a long iron pole over ten feet long. Their legs were spread wide by chains to the floor, their toes reaching futilely for the support they could not find. Their arms were fixed in a stick-behind-the-back tie, causing their breasts to thrust out enticingly. As they faced each other, their nipples were clamped, and the clamps were joined by chains running from girl to girl. Weights hung from the chains, pulling their nipples out painfully, causing both girls to sob and whimper around their gags. They had clearly been suffering for a time already and would remain in punishment for as long as the other performances took to finish.

I was becoming aroused. I freed my cock, slid forward in my seat and had my suck-slave begin gently tonguing my balls. My dinner salad arrived, and I started eating as the initiations began.

They were brought in and shackled by their wrists to overhead chains. Both were gagged and still wore the white livery. A male walked out on stage, one of the full-time training staff, carrying a Malacca cane.

"Welcome, friends. As you know, all slaves trained here are conditioned to the whip. We do not get particularly brutal with the use of pain as compared to some other establishments. Still, the slaves must be taught early to fear the whip.

"These two pigs are about to receive their initiations. Betty, the blonde on your left, signed up two days ago for a ninety-day stint. Eileen, the black beauty on your right, is beginning a full year. Let's welcome them!"

The audience applauded, as the girls looked back in fear.

"For those of you who are unfamiliar with the training program, let me emphasize that these girls have not broken any rules to earn the cane. Both, in fact, have proved quite submissive and obedient so far.

Still, as the demands on them increase with their tenure here, they will ultimately resist. The caning will go a long way toward delaying any thoughts they may have about disobedience. So, without any further ado..."

He turned to Betty and ripped off her livery. Seconds later, Eileen joined her in nude exposure. He alternated then between the two with his hands, caressing the cunt of one, then pinching the nipple of the other, until they both were thoroughly aroused and sensitized.

My eyes continued to roam the room. I noticed an unusual punishment going on at a table right behind mine. An attractive girl, black, full-breasted, was locked into a table-stock. Essentially a cocktail table, it was split through its center and provided openings for the wrists and neck of a kneeling slave. Her face was then presented at the table, inches from the food. Inquiring, I discovered that the girl, while serving food to a customer, had the audacity to sneak a bite of food off the tray. As punishment, she would not be fed for twenty-four hours and would remain locked in the table-stock the entire time, watching, at close range, the food she was denied.

A sound brought my attention back to the stage as the whipmaster began warming up with his cane. Both slaves cringed, fearful of even the practice swings. Between their arousal and fear, they were in a high-pitched state of tension, ready for their strokes.

I was always thrilled to see the face of a slave subjected to her first cane stroke. No matter how prepared they think they are, nothing can brace them for that first cruel dose of pain. Typically, it knocks the wind out of them, a silent scream, followed seconds later by a deep-throated howl as they experience one of the greatest pains they may ever feel. And just as they are convinced it can get no worse, the second stroke hits.

And the pain supersedes any other concerns the slave may have. While the initiates hang in their bonds, waiting, they could be seen making what subtle adjustments they could in their posture, trying to hunch forward their shoulders to reduce the protuberance of their breasts, or alternatively, extending themselves higher on their toes to take the strain off their wrists and shoulders. When the first stroke hits, their bodies arch, swing from their wrists, they spread their legs, they do anything their bonds permit, if only to lessen the pain, which, of course, is totally impossible. So they suffer the pain, and expose their bodies as well, for the entertainment of the audience.

Betty took her first stroke. It was intoxicating to watch the pain radiate through her body. Her asscheeks clenched tightly together, her pubes thrust forward as if she were fucking. Her back arched, offering her breasts; her face grimaced, and she inhaled her breath for her first scream. Tight as a bowstring, her toes left the floor as every muscle in her body contracted. Finally, nearly a full second after the stroke landed, her mouth opened, releasing her first virginal scream.

Eileen, the black slave-initiate, watched in horror. Having to wait naked, hanging by her wrists, witnessing the first girl's caning, her fear would be greater as her turn approached.

The strokes continued unabated on Betty's ass, each separated by six or eight seconds from the next to maximize their effects and prolong the experience, both for the slaves and for the audience enjoying them. Betty reacted in typical fashion throughout, convinced she would not survive.

As I watched the show, my own slave for the night continued mouthing my balls, as I commanded her. I was quite stimulated--the girl had been well-trained to obey. In the midst of my enjoyment, I was disturbed to hear a commotion at a table nearby.

Looking over my shoulder, I saw two slaves engaged in a cat-fight. One of the black-liveried women was standing less than ten feet away when it started, so it lasted only a few seconds before several lashes of the trainer's cat-o-nine tails broke it up. I was curious to see what would cause such a major offense to take place, not to mention my enjoyment of the unique punishments usually dealt out to the offenders.

I noted that one of the girls was equipped with a riveted leather collar--a long-term veteran. The other girl was still in locked steel, indicating her recent arrival. Questioning them both, the trainer discovered that the guest had demanded that one of them suck him to orgasm. Both slaves, for different reasons, found the scene repellant. The veteran slave attempted to pass off the duty to her understudy. Seconds later, they were rolling on the floor.

The newcomer was dealt with first.

"You still don't understand, cunt. You are a slave, available to any guest for any purpose they desire. Should you resist use, you will be punished, and used in any case."

The trainer had the table cleared, then, pressing some concealed catches, revealed some hidden openings in the tabletop. The slave was made to lie on the table, face up, her head nearest the guest who had wanted to use her in the first place. Her feet and lower legs, spread painfully wide, were thrust through two openings, then strapped to the legs of the table, out of sight. Then, a larger opening was revealed, directly under her shoulders.

Her head, arms and shoulders were passed through this opening, her arms likewise strapped to the legs of the table. A panel was closed, its edge sliding up against her chest, just above her breasts, before being locked into place.

Looking at the table now, I saw the slave's body only from her knees to her tits, her opened cunt a centerpiece. Due to the severe bend of her head and upper back, her breasts were thrust into even greater prominence, while her back arched up several inches above the table's surface.

Beneath the table, her head hung, inverted, between the knees of the offended guest. Her mouth would service him now, for as long as he required, while her body above the table would accept abuse at the whim of the other guests as they dined. And when the offended guest was satisfied, a game of musical chairs between the guests would start, one which would continue long into the night and allow the slave little rest.

As the guest's cock entered the slave's mouth, the second slave, the veteran, knew she would be punished more severely. The trainer looked at her for several long seconds, before calling out to two nearby assistants, "Bring out a punishment yoke!"

"Oh God, no!" The slave fell to her knees, begging for mercy, her lips glued to the feet of her Mistress. The woman lashed out once with her cat, saying, "Stop groveling, slut. You've earned your punishment, and you'll need your strength."

It took the strength of both the assisting slaves to carry out the yoke. It was essentially a pillory, not mounted on the usual post. It had the holes for neck and wrists, but there the similarity ended.

The yoke was hardwood, some four inches thick by eight inches wide, nearly five feet long. It was heavy, nearly sixty pounds, and reinforced with antiqued steel strapping. It did not have a padlock, but was fastened in place with four huge bolts, tightened with wrenches.

As the slave was fastened, I noted a row of large rivets extending out along its bottom surface, where its weight would rest on the slave's shoulders. It would be torture for the girl before the first hour ended.

Her ankle shackles were connected, by heavy chains, to the end of the yoke. The chains added another good ten pounds to the weight and would ensure the proper separation of her knees.

As the crew backed away from the already crying slave, I noticed the prominent inscription along the front of the yoke: "Enjoy this punished cocksucker, on the house!" She would remain in the yoke for twelve hours, and would get little rest. A line formed quickly.

My attention was drawn back to the stage, where the second initiate, Eileen, was undergoing her caning. Her screams and movements were just as stimulating as Betty's were before her. They both would serve well and fear the whip.

Unfortunately, the slave restrained at my chair was not doing as well. She was supposed to be sucking my balls, but was motionless, almost napping. I left my seat, bent down, and asked her, "Are you sleeping well?"

She was afraid, expecting punishment. "N-no, Master."

"Perhaps a reminder would help your service."

"Please, Master, I'll serve you well." Her blindfold enhanced her fear; she had no idea what to expect until the first clamp bit into her nipple. As the second one was attached to her other nipple, she cried gently.

"Of course you'll serve well. You're a slave!"

I returned to my seat and placed my cock in her mouth. She returned me to erection quickly, and with a few warnings, kept me there.

The initiatory canings were done. The two girls were brought to their knees, and six men from the audience volunteered to complete the initiations. The slaves were taken in the cunt first, then ass, and finally in their throats. All the men were cleaned by mouth when finished, each by the opposite girl.

The Mistress of ceremonies returned our attention briefly to the punished slaves still riding the rail at center stage, their legs chained wide to the floor, arms fixed in a stick-behind-the-back tie, their nipple clamps still connected by weighted chains.

"As I said before, these two sluts are being punished for your entertainment tonight. We're going to have a little contest." She paused, only long enough to connect a powerful vibrator to the middle of the pole on which the girls' cunts rode. Turning again to the audience, she continued: "We're going to find out which girl is the more wanton slut of the two. Whoever comes first will be more severely punished."

With that, she turned on the vibrator. It was so powerful, one could hear the pole rattling halfway across the room, even over the background noise. Both slaves, feeling the vibrations in and on their tortured cunts, started moaning loudly.

"While that question is being answered, friends, please enjoy the bondage artistry of Master Andrew, assisted by the slave Sukara."

She was a beautiful girl, of obvious Asian extraction, with a perfect body, featuring the kind of large breasts that look best when wrapped in rope. The Master led the nude slave in on a leash, crawling on all fours. At center stage, he removed the leash, and she gave him the devotional kiss to his toes.

A stand was wheeled onstage. Not a restraint device, it was simply a storage rack for the many ropes and other implements to be used in the demonstration. Numerous lengths, materials and sizes were available, allowing the Master complete flexibility in his performance.

"Rise, slave!" Sukara stood at attention, facing the audience. "Display your body!" She laced her fingers behind her head, elbows back, breasts thrust out proudly. She also spread her legs over three feet apart.

Master Andrew started with a four-foot length of quarter-inch cotton rope. He looped its center around the back of the slave's neck, then tied a single overhand knot at the center of the slave's chest. The remainder of each end was wrapped once, tightly, around each breast, close to her ribs, and knotted off.

Shorter lengths circled her shoulders and back, all the ends attached to her breast-loops. Now, each time she breathed, she would tighten the breast bondage. And her breathing was growing deeper by the second.

He took half a dozen eight-foot lengths of rope and tied one end of each to various points on her bonds, two from each breast-loop, the remaining two to her back. He then began to weave a veritable net of rope around her body, from her breasts to her knees. The result was a thing of beauty, and it stimulated her flesh with every movement.

As the groans of the two slaves in punishment grew louder behind him, Master Andrew took some shorter lengths of thinner cord and focused his attention on Sukara's tits. He placed one loop around the meat of each breast, then used more short cords to connect the loops to the previous ropes. Continuing, he eventually had no less than four tight circles around each breast, all interconnected by a network, which caused her flesh to bulge out around the ropes in a very erotic fashion.

He next worked on her cunt. Two ropes passed from her hips, through her cunt, opening her cuntlips and holding them spread open. Next, a pair of thin cords, attached to the front of her body-ropes, cut severely to the center of her cunt, to either side of her clit, through her ass and were knotted off in back. These last two cords squeezed her clitoris so tightly, they caused it to become erect and protrude dramatically.

He bound her arms behind her. Wrist to wrist, they were joined in a double hammer-lock, with added ropes between her upper arms. Finally, he had the slave kneel, ankles crossed and knees spread, where he bound her ankles, securing her. Finishing this, he addressed the audience briefly.

"The slave Sukara is now bound, to display her body to the greatest advantage. But the secret of this style of bondage is to cause the ropes themselves to make the slut's body come alive, in both pain and arousal. The ropes must be applied beautifully. But they must also awaken the beauty of the slave."

Using a long, thin cord, he connected her wrists at its center, passed the ends over her shoulders, and tied the ends to the finer ropes midway down the girl's breasts. Now, any movement of her upper body pulled up on her tits, beautifully.

The next cords connected her lower breast loops with the thin cunt-ropes, those at her clitoris. Again, he tightened them well, causing her to groan.

Finally, the other ends of the crotch-ropes, at the top of her ass, were connected to her wrists. He spoke again.

"Now, this slut will know herself enslaved. Every move of her body transmits itself not only to your eyes, but to her own tits and cunt. Indeed, if she struggled in her bonds, she could cause her cunt-ropes to bring her to orgasm.

"Of course, as a slave, she must be punished, as well, and be denied that pleasure so we may be better entertained by her suffering." With that, he again tightened the rope connecting her wrists to her cuntrope, this time quite severely.

That one adjustment had a dramatic effect. Her entire body arched, causing her to groan in pain. The net of ropes on her breasts tightened, her flesh bulging out between the ropes and pulsating with her breath. Her crotch-rope cut painfully deep into her, her clitoris seemingly doubling in size. The slave now moaned in both arousal and pain, and every cock in the audience pulsed in response.

She shook her head with the pain, then dropped her head down to her chest. The Master stepped behind her, a leather thong in his hand. Quickly, he fashioned a slip-knot, then bound her hair into a pony tail, reknotting the thong several times around the length of her hair.

He pulled down sharply on the thong, dragging her head back painfully and attached the thong to her crossed ankles. Now, the entire front of her body was bent in a severe arch, her flesh stretched against the ropes. The girl moaned audibly now, regularly, with the ever-growing pain of her bonds.

Stepping to her front, he reached into a pocket, then proceeded to clamp her nipples. The clamps were the clothespin type, painted black, and each had a bell hanging from it. The slave Sukara began to cry. And with the shudders in her body, the bells began to gently ring.

Still in front of the now-suffering slave, he pulled yet one more item from his pocket. It was a stick of bamboo, an inch in diameter and some six inches long. It had short leather thongs tied to either end. As the slave groaned in anticipation, he forced the bamboo between her teeth as a bit-gag, the ends extending out to either side of her face. When he tied it into place, I noted that he tied the thongs behind the rope leading down from her hair. Now, when she tried to struggle against the gag, it would pull on her hair-rope, tightening the arch of her body. Also, struggling against her other bondage would pull the gag deeper into her mouth.

He produced a bamboo rod, about three feet long. The slave's eyes suddenly looked back in terror as he brandished it. He spoke again: "I present to you the slave Sukara, bound for your viewing pleasure." He then swung the rod.

He struck her only once, across the abdomen. She screamed a single blood-curdling shriek, responding to the severe pain of the stroke. While protected only by the few strands of rope crossing her, the welt rose quickly. She now undulated helplessly in pain, every movement transmitting itself through her bonds throughout her entire body. The bells rang constantly for some time, and her groans entertained the audience for the remainder of the evening.

While all this was taking place, I continued to watch the two slaves riding the rail, enjoying my dinner, as my own suck-slave fed on my cock. She was doing well, keeping her teeth at bay, not gagging when I used her throat and serving patiently and thoroughly with her lips and tongue. I would commend her to her Mistress, later. In the meantime, I wordlessly reached down and added a two-ounce weight to each of her nipple clamps. Her moans of suffering were a beautiful backdrop for the arrival of the training Mistress, about to take her punished slaves in hand.

The two fearful girls were quickly approaching orgasm. Indeed, seconds after the Mistress appeared on stage, they both went into orgasm. It was very close, but the one on the left appeared to come first, by a mere second or two.

"Masters! Our contest has a winner. But indeed, the competition was so close, there will be little difference in the remaining punishments. Let us proceed."

Two sawhorses were set up onstage and a board layed across them. The losing girl was moved to the board on her back, wrists and ankles locked to eyebolts extending out from the sides of the board. A posture collar was added, one capable of preventing all movement of her head. I noticed her legs separated, her knees perhaps six or eight inches apart.

The second girl, the "Winner", was placed on top of her, similarly collared, face down, pointing in the opposite direction. In a perfect sixty-nine position, the mouth of each girl was placed at the cunt of the other. With the posture collars, neither could turn her head to avoid contact with the other. They began licking at each other's cunts immediately.

Their Mistress smiled at the expected, continued violation of their training. Indeed, she watched and waited until they both approached orgasm. She took the microphone again.

"Yes, it seems our two sluts have not learned their lessons yet, and more punishment is in order." She produced two large cock-gags. With some force needed, she soon had both slaves gagged with the lifelike rubber phalluses, over their protests and groans of frustration.

"Now, my friends, let them suffer. They will learn the proper use of their mouths, as they suck those rubber cocks through the next twenty-four hours. They'll be kept aroused by the smell of each other's pussies, but will not be allowed to taste or enjoy. Tomorrow evening, they'll be locked into chastity belts for three days running and serve only with their mouths."

She left the stage to the sound of scattered laughter and applause.

The stimulation had been most enjoyable for me tonight. Alternating my eyes between the two girls on stage, the one in the punishment yoke currently working on her eighth or ninth customer, and the one locked into the table, also working her mouth around the latest of many cocks, my own orgasm was moments away. The slut bound under my table was sucking my cock quite skillfully, in spite of her long bondage and weighted nipple clamps, or perhaps because of them. As I pumped my load into her mouth, she did not struggle or resist, but groaned in pleasure, swallowing it all.

I decided to add a bit more cruelty before I finished. My slave was nursing gently on my cock, prolonging the pleasure of my afterglow, as she gently cleaned me. In the meantime, the wine I had been drinking had passed right through me. As her lips and tongue were putting the final touches on me, I pissed into her mouth. She moaned again deeply in her degradation, but began swallowing again quickly. To my satisfaction, she performed perfectly, not spilling a drop.

I removed her clamps and summoned my waitress/slave to release the girl, with my commendations. She was led off on a leash, her rubber blindfold still covering the upper half of her head, never having seen the face of the owner of the cock that had filled her mouth for most of the previous three hours.

I left my table and walked towards the exit. At the rear of the room, there was yet one more slave under punishment. A young blond girl, at the beginning of a full year's stint, she had not yielded properly to a Master who wished to give a few whipstrokes to her cunt. She was in suspension, her wrists some feet apart, her ankles drawn up and attached to her wrists opening her cunt completely. Her bonds were puntative enough, but that was only the beginning.

Her nipples were clamped, the clamps joined by a chain. On the chain hung a small cat-o-nine tails, its weight pulling down painfully on her tits.

A Mistress stood closely by, with her own whip, enforcing her punishment. As each man passed, the slave requested, "Please, Master, whip my cunt!" Without exception, each one of them picked up the cat, delivered one punishing stroke upward, into her cunt, then replaced the cat on her tit-chain. She screamed on every stroke, and she groaned in pain every time the cat was hung back on the chain. Under the threat of further punishment, she thanked every one of them. I delivered my own stroke, enjoying her scream. She moaned the required, "Thank you, Master", and I rehung the cat, causing her to moan yet again as her tits were tortured.

I looked over the room briefly before I left. There were still over forty men present; the hanging slut at the exit would be well-punished in the next hour or two before the last of them left.

They were about to have their nightly drawing. Once each night, a slave was given away to a customer for overnight service, free of charge. Tonight's offering was a petite Chinese beauty named Li. A membership number was drawn; the winner advanced to the stage to collect his prize. I knew the man, partied with him a few times, and was familiar with his affectation for forcing his massive member into a girl's tightest opening. Indeed, I hoped the slave Li had trained her ass to open properly to a Master.

The sights had reawakened my own cock. I left quickly, wanting to get home soon. I had someone waiting for me, hoping most heartfully for my early return.

My own current slave-in-residence, a black beauty named Jennifer, had been just a touch reticent in her performance and availability that afternoon. Given a minor punishment, she rebelled. So I placed her in a leg-stock, her ankles nearly four feet apart, facing a mirror. Her wrists were locked to the rearmost ring of her posture collar. To insure she wouldn't lie down in my absence, two thin threads were attached to her nipple rings and pulled high to a ring in the ceiling, lifting her tits provocatively. She was threatened with a severe tit-whipping if the threads broke. Finally, she sat upon a leather seat equipped with short, blunt studs. They would press in hard on her already welted ass-flesh, torturing her until I released her.

Indeed, when I returned to my dungeon, some four or five hours after I had left her, she was in tears. "Please, Master, have mercy on your punished slave."

"Perhaps, cunt. First though, I would find it more pleasurable to fuck your mouth."

"Master, please let your slave suck your cock."

She served well. Indeed, she did not even protest when I locked her into her butt-plug chastity belt for the night, leaving her horny and unsatisfied. In the morning, I knew, she would be ready to serve me well.

Perhaps I would sign her up for a month's service at Jill's...

Copyright © 1992
Master Ivan