jessicablank's Avatar
jessicablank Member Since October 19, 2009

The Box

jessicablank on Lesbian Stories

The Box
-- by jessicablank

It started out as a room.

Cindy stood in the center of the room.  A tight, leather cuff encircled each wrist.  A tight, leather shackle encircled each ankle.  The chains dangled from the ceiling and the floor.  Holding her arms up, widespread, over her head.  Holding her legs far apart.

Cindy wasn't sure what else was in the room.  Constantly, she heard Linda's voice.  Commanding her to sleep.  Commanding her to obey.  Commanding her to watch the lights.  The pretty, flashing lights.  They sparkled.  Glittered.  Flashing colors.  Bright red and blue sparks, before a golden background.  Flashing, flashing, flashing.  Sleep.  Obey.  Bright green sparks and yell

Read More
ow, before a deep, crimson red.  Sleep.  Obey.  Sleep.  Obey.

The young blonde hung from the arm chains, her weight supported by them.  Her mouth slackly open.  Breathing so slowly.  Slowly.  Her sun-bronzed hips swayed with arousal.  Slowly to the left.  Gently to the right.  Feeling her wet pussy lips slip and slide over one another.  Feeling them pucker open when her hips thrust forward.

Sleep.  Obey.  Sleep.  Obey.  Cindy listened to Linda's voice.  Listened to her Mistress' voice.  The twin of her own voice -- if she could remember.  If Cindy could remember HOW to speak, any more.  All she could do was listen to Mistress' voice.  Sleep... Obey...  Watch the flashing colored lights, and sway her hips.  Pussy so wet and dripping.  Watching the lights, projected on the walls, on the ceiling, on the floor.  Everywhere she looked.  Flashing, flashing, flashing.  Sleep...  Obey...

Later, Cindy found herself in smaller and smaller enclosures.

For a while, it was the bathroom.  Chained in the shower.  Linda liked that.  She watched her slave react to the recorded voice.  Sleep...  Obey...  Watched Cindy gaze mindlessly into the waterproof TV camera in the shower wall.  Watched the tall, slender, tanned body swaying back and forth.  Sometimes rising up out of trance just enough to try impaling her hairless cunt on the shower handles.  Then Linda would trail her fingers through Cindy's long hair, tugging gently on it, dragging her head back just a tiny bit.  That always forced Cindy down into a deeper level of trance.  Sleep... Obey...

The box in the dining room was originally of wood.  Not simple pine, but fine-grained walnut, a cabinetmaker's work of art.  Enclosing Cindy in darkness.  Confining her in a kneeling position for hours at a time.  Her only stimuli, the flashing, sparkling lights in the grilled opening at the front of the box.  And Linda's voice on the speakers, repeating, repeating, repeating.  Sleep...  Obey...

And the toys.

Sometimes, Linda would open a little door in the box, perhaps the one at the back, and through it she would push a long, thick dildo into Cindy's dripping cunt.  In... out... in... out...  Twist.  One full turn around.  Then again in... out... in... out...  Then Linda withdrew the dildo.  And closed the box.  Once again locked inside, Cindy watched the flashing lights, listened to the repeating hypnotic voice.  And pressed her hips back, trying to impale herself on a dildo that was no longer there.  Sleep... Obey...

Linda opened another door at the back of the box.  This one a little higher.  She dribbled warm oil into the crack of Cindy's round bottom.  Letting it trickle down the cleft of her ass.  Sometimes, Linda followed this with a butt plug -- or a long, tapered dildo -- spreading Cindy's anus open.   Slowly, irresistibly.  Farther in... and farther... and bigger...  Till Cindy's hips began to buck.  Till her knees and ankles spread wide, within the confines of the box, and her ass pushed against the back, trying to get more.  And Linda removed the dildo.  Closed the door.  Sleep...  Obey...  Sleep...  Obey...

Linda decided she wanted to see everything.

Money was no object.  Cindy and Linda, poor little rich girls, now in their twenties, had all the money they could ever need from Daddy's estate.  Linda could afford to equip the Mediterranean beach house with any comfort they wanted, anything she needed to subjugate Cindy to deeper and deeper levels of mindless servitude.  Contorting Cindy's body into any configuration, programming her mind in any way Linda found interesting, entertaining, stimulating.

The clear, Lucite box rested on a little platform, about three feet off the floor, attached to a short pole in the middle of the dining room.  The centerpiece of attention, spot lights illuminating it from the ceiling.  It was tiny, for what it contained.  Three feet long, two feet wide, a foot and a half tall.  And what it contained... was Cindy.  Curled up with her arms at her sides, her legs tucked underneath, feet together, toes pointed down.  Compressed within the box.  Like a big question mark, squashed down a bit, with her toes just above where the dot would have been, directly over the pole.

So suggestible now, Cindy needed only a small, spinning crystal before her eyes.  She watched the crystal, as it reflected the beams from the spotlights in the ceiling.  So pretty.  Blue and red and green flashing into her eyes.  Tiny speaker buds in her ears received a wireless signal, and continually repeated Linda's voice, at a subliminal level.  Commanding her to sleep...  Commanding her to obey...

A click in the back of the box, the swiveling of a plastic door on its hinges, the gentle sound of plastic scraping against plastic -- and Cindy felt cool air between her legs, around her pussy.  Linda reached in and rolled the spiked wheel over Cindy's clit, digging the little points into the moist, tender flesh.  Sleep...  Obey...  Cindy was now completely unable to move her limbs, but her hips pressed backward, and her dripping vulva opened like a flower to the stimulus.  Sleep...  Obey...  Her eyes hardly seemed to blink.  Watching the crystal.  Watching the flashes of color.  Watching the red, the blue, the green.

Linda withdrew the wheel and closed the door.  She set aside the toy and opened another door on the underside of the box.  Cindy's plump, hard nipples protruded underneath.  Linda lifted the two clamps and quickly clipped one on each nipple -- first the right, then the left.  Red and white wires led down from each nipple to an oblong, black box, with buttons and a little dial.  Linda twisted the dial to midrange, then pressed the button.  The shocks to Cindy's nipples caused her to grunt, wordlessly, and twitch inside the Lucite box.  Linda released the button, twisted the knob to full range, and pressed the button again.  Cindy squealed and jerked inside the plastic box, and her eyes went wide -- still staring at the crystal.  Sleep...  Obey...  Sleep...  Obey...

Oh, sometimes Linda let Cindy out of the box.  After throwing a few latches, she could open the entire top and side, and ease Cindy out.  Slowly... careful not to strain Cindy's stiffened limbs, careful not to let her lose her balance and fall.  It took a half hour to get Cindy out.  And almost an hour to get her back in, positioning each limb so carefully, gradually squeezing her into place, mindful not to let Cindy's smooth skin get pinched when a panel was swiveled closed.  Sometimes Linda took her out for a shower, or a little walk along the beach.  Cindy never seemed to notice.  Her mind remained deep in trance.  Sleep... Obey...  Her body always on the edge of orgasm.  Linda enjoyed keeping her slave in the box, for days at a time.  She could even feed Cindy without removing her, one tiny bite at a time, and then a brush of Linda's finger against the slave's clit... then another bite...

*           *           *          *          *

Linda heard the doorbell and picked up the remote control from the coffee table, switching the TV to show the security camera view outside the locked gate.

"Helloooo..." a voice sang.  "Is anybody home?"  A voice Linda hadn't heard in a couple of years, but a familiar one.

"Anita!" she replied through the intercom.  "How are you?  Let me buzz the gate open."  Linda pressed another button and the mechanical hum and clack carried through the microphone.  While her old friend swung the gate open to enter, Linda set down the remote, made a few quick arrangements to the decor, and opened the front door.  Anita was only halfway up the long, wooden stairway that led up to the house, so Linda started walking down the steps to meet her.

"How are you, darling?" said Anita, as they stood on a weathered stair and hugged, kissing the air near each other's cheeks.  "It seems like forever since I saw you last!"

"Come on in," replied Linda.  "I'll put on a pot of tea and we can catch up!"

*           *           *          *          *

Anita took another bite of the chocolate biscotto, set it down, and ran her hand over the elaborate lace tablecloth.  "This is really beautiful work," she said.

"It was my grandmother's," Linda explained, holding up the teapot.  Anita nodded, and Linda refilled her cup.

"You seem to have kept a lot of the old things," Anita continued, then waving her hand at the big screen TV and other electronics around the house, "while going totally twenty-first century techno on everything else."

"A creature of contrasts, that's me," Linda laughed.

Anita took a sip of her tea and looked up at Linda, pausing for a moment.  "What about Cindy?  I thought you two both lived here?"

"Oh, we DO."  Linda picked up her tea cup for another sip.  "Cindy's out for a couple of days."

"Too bad I missed her," Anita replied, swirling her cup in a gentle circle.  She watched the tea leaves settle at the bottom.  "Nobody sees you two much, any more."

"We're down at the beach almost every other day..." Linda began, then paused.  "Oh, you mean of the OLD crowd..."

"Ouch!" Anita said.  "You make me sound like an antique!"  She set her cup down.  "You and Cindy used to be such party animals."  She laughed.  "RUTTING little party animals!"

"We're two little homebodies these days," Linda said, setting her cup down.

"We miss you," Anita said.  "I miss you.  Both of you."  She leaned forward, folding her arms, elbows carefully just at the edge of the table.  "I really wish I could have caught you together."

"Maybe another time," Linda said, folding her hands.

They looked at each other for a moment, not moving.

"Well," Anita said, "I guess I'd better get going.  Big party tonight, and I need time to get ready."  She stood, setting the folded linen napkin next to the cup and saucer.  "Are you sure you wouldn't like to come?  I can bring a guest."

"Ohhhhh," Linda demurred, also standing, "can't make it tonight.  I wish I could have..."

"Right," said Anita.  "I'm really sorry I missed Cindy."

"I'll tell her you dropped by..."  Linda accompanied Anita as she walked toward the door.  The woman seemed in a hurry to leave.

"No need to see me out," Anita said.  "I can find my way down all those stairs."  She reached toward Linda and gave her a brief hug, then pulled back.

"Are you okay?" Linda asked.

"I'm fine -- I just need to rush off."  Anita shrugged and smiled.  "Even Cinderella's fairy godmother needed TIME to work a few miracles, before the ball!"

"Another time, then," Linda said.

"Another time.  'Bye!"  Anita gave a little wave and started down the stairs.

Linda watched her from the doorway, then went to retrieve the remote control.  She returned to the front of the house just as Anita reached the bottom step.  She buzzed open the gate and gave Anita a final wave as she walked through and pulled the gate shut.  Then Linda stepped back into the house and pushed the front door closed.

She wondered why Anita had really come to visit.

Especially that mention of "Cinderella."  That's what Anita used to call them -- Cinderella and Linderella.  Of course, they had both stopped waiting for Prince Charming years ago!

*         *         *          *

Linda took the teacups and saucers to the kitchen.  Then she lifted the big, floral centerpiece from the dining table and put it on the buffet shelf where it usually sat.  Finally, she removed the lace table cloth and padded cover, and carefully set them aside in the corner -- revealing the Lucite "table" that encapsulated Cindy.

"Miss me, honey?" Linda said.  She opened a cabinet and pulled out the big, black dildo again.  She flipped a latch, swiveled the panel open, and gazed at Cindy's wet pussy, dribbling juices almost constantly.  She slowly pushed the dildo between Cindy's labia...  Deeper...  Deeper...  All the way to the base, then Linda slowly began to draw it out...

"So, Cindy IS here, after all!"

Linda jerked upright, releasing her hold on the dildo, and turned to face the intruder.

"I walked back inside before I shut the gate," Anita explained.  "You really should be more careful about security, since you seem to value it so very highly!"  She smiled.  Linda saw that she was holding a gun.  "Now, what are you doing with my little Cindy?"

She waved the gun sideways, and Linda stepped backward, toward the living room, holding her hands up.

"That's right, back off nice and slow."  Anita looked at the thick, black dildo, partially embedded in Cindy's cunt, and grabbed the base.  "Mmmm... THAT'S the Cindy I remember.  Always having such fun with her toys."  She slid the dildo out, admiring the slick, shiny coating of Cindy's juices.  Cindy moaned with pleasure, feeling the shaft slide out of her body.  "Ohhhh, yeah!"  Anita said, pushing the dildo back in.  Cindy pushed her ass back, trying to open herself even more, though she couldn't budge an inch.

Linda backed further into the living room, next to the couch and the coffee table, hands still high in the air.

"Hold it right there," Anita commanded.  "I don't want you calling the police or anything.  Just stand there, and stay still."  She pulled the dildo out again, watching Cindy's ass flex inside the clear plastic box.  Again, she pushed the shaft inward, filling Cindy's pussy and making her moan again. "How long have you kept her like this?" she asked.  "You dirty bitch!  No wonder nobody ever sees the two of you, with her locked up like this, and you playing your little games!"  She slid the dildo out, and Cindy squealed, her hips wiggling inside the tight enclosure.

"Please... stop..." Linda began.

"I want you to tell me how to unlock this thing, and let her out of here!" Linda demanded.  She pushed the thick, black phallus in again.  Cindy jerked and grunted.

"It's not locked," Linda replied.

"Not locked?"  Linda stroked the dildo out again.  Cindy began to moan, her voice almost sounding like she was singing.

"She likes being in there.  It was her choice!"

Anita pushed the dildo into Cindy's wet slit again.

Fifth time.  Cindy's trigger.  She had been conditioned to orgasm on the fifth consecutive stroke.  And Linda had been teasing her for days!  Two strokes, and stop.  Four strokes, and then rolling the spiked wheel over Cindy's clit.  Always on the edge, never quite there, never quite that final slide of rubber inside aching flesh!  And now, within seconds, Anita had thrust the rubber cock inside her, one, two, three, four... and FIVE!

Inside the box, Cindy shook and moaned, making the Lucite enclosure wobble, squealing in ecstasy, squashing her ass cheeks back against the walls of the box, trying to impale herself deeper on the thick rubber dildo.

Anita stared at the box, the gun lowered, forgotten -- distracted for a moment -- as she watched Cindy cum and cum and cum, thrashing around inside, moaning and squealing, crying with release.

And in that moment, Linda grabbed the remote off the table and pressed a button.

"Put that down!" Anita commanded, swinging the gun back upward.

Linda set the remote back on the coffee table.

"Come over here," Anita waved the gun toward the box, where Cindy's spasms were lessening, her cries of ecstasy becoming quieter.  "Open this up and let her out."

Linda walked over to the box, mindful every moment of the gun pointed at her.  She undid the latches at the side of the box, and at the ends.  Then she pulled the side downward on its hinges, and swiveled the top upward.  The box resembled a small, transparent grand piano, its top lifted for maximum volume.  Linda started to pull on Cindy's arms, feeling her muscles still twitching, shivering.

Anita continued to hold the gun, but her eyes were fluttering.  She was finding it very hard to keep them open.  Very hard to think what she next wanted to demand.  What order she wanted to give Linda.  She wanted to sit down.  She wanted to lie down.  Eyes wanted to close.  She just wanted to do what she was told, and not think.  Just sit down.  Close her eyes.  Go to sleep.

Of course Anita didn't know -- couldn't know -- about the subliminal sounds, playing through speakers set in every room in the house.  "Sleep... Obey..."  Just under the threshold of conscious hearing.  Their timing was staggered, one room to the next, so they seemed to echo.  "Sleep (sleep, sleep, sleep)... Obey (obey, obey, obey)..."  Linda's first try at programming Cindy, twenty-four hours a day.  Until she set up the wireless ear buds.  Even though it was her own voice, Linda was feeling sleepy, too.  But she knew what was happening.  After all, she was the one who had pressed the button on the remote.  The remote that seemed so far away.  "Sleep (sleep... sleep... sleeeeeeep)...  Obey (ohhhhhhhbey... obey...  obeeeeeyyyy...)"

Anita's gun still pointed at her, Linda gently eased Cindy out of the box, while Anita quietly sat down on the floor, legs crossed.  She was trying so hard to keep her eyes open.  The gun drifted to one side, and her eyes gradually closed.  She shook her head, forcing them open, pointing the gun again.  Trying to remember which woman was Cinda, and which one was Lindy, they looked so much alike.  Anita blinked slowly, smiling at her mistake, almost giggling.  The gun drifted lower... lower...  So heavy.  So hard to hold it up high.  So very high.  Better to hold it lower.  That was easier.  Even lower.  So hard to lift her gun, and point her eyes.  Waiting for someone to tell her what to do.  Anita's eyes closed.  The gun dropped out of her hand, and her jaw fell open, exposing her pink tongue.  She seemed to wave back and forth, in rhythm with a barely-heard song.  "Sleep-eep-eep...  Obey-ey-ey-ey..."

Linda guided Cindy into a standing position and tapped her forehead, then the right cheek, then the left cheek, and finally kissed her lips... so gently, so affectionately.

Cindy opened her eyes, smiled, and said, "Hello, gorgeous!"

*         *         *          *

Anita awoke to find herself on the floor, in a kneeling position, her legs spread wide.  It would have been incorrect to describe her as naked, even though all her clothes had been removed.  Each leg was bound separately -- shiny, silver duct tape wrapped around and around from her knee up to her crotch, holding the lower leg tightly against the upper leg.  All she COULD do was kneel.  Her arms were bound behind her, elbows straight, both arms wrapped from wrist to shoulder with more and more yards of duct tape.  The posture thrust her bare breasts forward, as if offering them to be squeezed and sucked.  Another strip of tape covered her mouth.  Immobilized, helpless, silent, Anita opened her eyes and looked up at the two identical women sitting on the couch, clothed in light summer dresses, both sipping tea.

The woman on the left had her dress hiked up to her waist, showing off her smooth, tanned legs, and the fact that she wasn't wearing any panties.  The woman on the right had stretched one leg out across the couch, her foot firmly placed against the other woman's hairless pussy.  Her toes flexed and curled, teasing the ring that had been pierced through the exposed clit.  Flipping it up... and down... up... and down...  The woman on the left was making the tiniest rocking motion with her hips, her eyes drifting closed with every wiggle of the toes between her legs.

Anita knew them well.  She recognized the tiny differences between the twins.  She knew the woman on the left was Cindy, the one on the right was Linda.

"I haven't seen you in sooooo long," Cindy said.  Anita's body jerked with her surprise to hear Cindy speak.  She was so certain Linda had brainwashed her somehow.  Of course, she was right about that fact -- but not the reason behind it.

"You seemed to be under the impression that Cindy needed to be rescued," Linda began.  Cindy giggled, and spread her legs wider, pushing her pussy onto Linda's toes, getting them wet with her juices.  "Of course, I needed to make sure you didn't hurt anybody."  Linda reached down beside her and lifted Anita's gun.  She shifted it to her other hand, pointing it up at the ceiling.  She reached down again, and held up the clip, now carefully separated from the gun.  "Nasty things," Linda said, wiggling the two shiny metal objects.  "The effects of a split-second decision can be so... permanent!"  She set the gun and clip down on the table.

Cindy started to make little grunting noises, pumping onto Linda's toes.  Linda withdrew her leg, causing Cindy to say, "Awwwww..."  Linda stared into Cindy's eyes and tilted her head, nodding, in a way her twin instantly understood.  Cindy pressed her legs together and resumed rocking, more quietly now.

Linda turned back to Anita and leaned forward, her elbows on her sun-browned knees.  "Cindy and I have an arrangement.  I am her mistress, and she is my slave."

"Only until the end of the year," Cindy exclaimed.  "Then we switch."

Linda smiled a secret smile, then continued.  "You interrupted our fun.  Cindy was soooo disappointed.  You need to make it up to her!  And I realized that we need to make it crystal clear to you... that Cindy's desire to remain here is genuine."  Linda shifted forward, moving closer to the tape-bound woman.  "So we were thinking... it might be amusing, if Cindy had someone else to control for a while."  She reached out, lifting up Anita's chin.  "What do you think, 'Nita?  Would you like to stay for a week, as Cindy's sex slave?"

"A fortnight!" Cindy exclaimed.  Linda glared briefly at her with disapproval.  "Awwww, c'mon, Lin!"

"Two weeks, then," Linda offered, looking back into Anita's eyes.  "Unless you're not interested... or busy... You seem to be all tied up."  She grinned, lopsidedly.  "You wanted to see Cindy again.  So what do you say?  Wanna play, for two weeks?"

Anita looked up at Linda, her least favorite twin.  There always seems to be one that's a leader, and the other twin follows.  Linda impressed her as being tricky somehow, always something up her sleeve.  The wicked stepmother to Cindy's Cinderella.  But it WAS a chance to spend time with Cindy again.  Sexy, slutty Cindy.  She looked up at Cindy, then Linda, and nodded her head.

"Oh, goody!" Cindy cried, standing up and clapping her hands like a little girl.  She opened a drawer in the end table and pulled out something.  A leash, with a dog collar.  Cindy strode forward and crouched in front of Anita.  She deftly looped the collar around her neck, buckled it in place, and stood up, holding the leash.  "Now, 'Nita girl, time to start your training!"  Cindy giggled.  "Follow me!"

Anita couldn't think how to move, even to crawl after Cindy, with her legs bound up and her arms tied behind her.

"Ohhhh," said Linda, "you can move!  All you need to do is lean forward... and walk on your knees."  Her eyes took on a wicked look.  "And if you lose your balance..." she looked up at her twin, "well, it's up to Cindy.  Whether to let you try to stand on your knees again, or make you crawl like that on your belly!"  She leaned closer to Anita's ear and whispered, "Take my advice... DON'T lose your balance!"

Cindy jerked the leash, almost forcing Anita to fall over before she had moved. "C'mon, 'Nita slave!  I want to lock you up someplace nice and tight!"

"She's untrained," Linda cautioned, as Anita struggled to her knees, wobbling.  "She won't fit in the box."  She grinned.  "Not right away, anyhow!"

Cindy watched her new slave swing her left knee a few inches forward, the carpet abrading the delicate skin of her leg.  Then she wobbled again, swinging the right knee forward, a little higher.  It landed on the floor with a thump that hurt, and jarred Anita's body all the way to her head.  "That's okay," Cindy replied.  "I'm sure she'll fit in the shower stall."  She looked up at Linda, the wickedness in her eyes a reflection of her twin's.  "Turn on the remote, and you can watch on the TV."

Anita swung her left knee forward, tears forming in her eyes from the effort, the pain, the humiliation.  What HAD she gotten herself into?  She could feel the leash tugging on her neck, threatening to pull her too far forward, threatening to make her fall.

Cindy stopped tugging, then crouched down in front of Anita, changing her hold on the leash, grasping it just a few inches from the bound woman's face.  She spoke softly... but there was an edge in her voice that made Anita feel like she might lose control of her bladder.  "If you're REALLY good... I might ask Linda to let you stay longer...  Maybe a month..."

Anita felt Cindy's fingers caressing between her legs, one long, slim digit stroking gently along the cleft of her pussy, up to her clit, and stopping there, possessively, unmoving but pressing gently against the fleshy button.  She gazed up into Cindy's eyes, and found herself moaning through the tape.

Cindy smiled, stood up, and tugged gently on the leash.  Walking slowly toward the bathroom, hips swaying, the summer dress swishing back and forth.  Listening to the thump... thump... of her slave's knees behind her.  Her very own slave's sore, aching knees.

They were going to have such fun!

*          *          *          *          *         *

Read more free stories by jessicablank and MzDominica's other slaves at
http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/

http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/">http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/

/>

The Exhibit 2,6 Months Later

jessicablank on BDSM Stories

The Exhibit, Part 2, Six Months Later
-- by jessicablank

Synopsis:  At the inn in Her Realm, MzDominica demonstrated Her glass-covered sensory deprivation chamber, showing how a recording with Her Voice as a subliminal soundtrack could be used to program slaves' minds, so very deeply, to obey Her.  Mistress Black, who owns a chain of spas, made a deal with Dominica, to use the "relaxation chambers" to expand her business, getting chambers at a discount, in exchange for using them to recruit more slaves for Dominica.

*          *          *          *          *
 
Part 2:  Six Months Later

Mistress Black always enjoyed relaxing

Read More
in a warm, quiet bath like this, after her workouts in the gym.  Her long, raven tresses were pinned up, tight around her head, and she wriggled around in the scented water, surrounded by candle light, as she trailed her hands up and down her smooth, muscular thighs and stomach.  Massaging them.  Squeezing her own nipples.  Teasing herself.  Planning what she was going to do with her slaves this evening.  Especially the new one, the female.  Oh yes, she was going to be fun to train.
 
Deciding her bath was done, Mistress stood carefully, and stepped out, onto the bathmat.  Immediately, her male slave arose from his crouched position, with a fresh towel, and began drying her.  His eyes remained downcast, as trained, staring only at the floor -- not permitted to look at Mistress, as he dried her.  A perfectly choreographed dance.  She lifted her left arm, and his hand was already moving toward her with the towel, to dry her arm, her armpit, down the left side.  Blotting every drop of scented water from her skin.  She lowered her left arm, and lifted the right one, and her slave was already blotting her forearm, her firm triceps, and down the right side.  Suddenly, the towel slipped, and for a moment, his fingers touched Mistress' skin, on the flare of her hip, just below her tiny waist.  She did not react, but the slave quickly recovered the towel, and continued drying.  Wiping down her hips, her buttocks, the backs of her thighs, crouching again to the floor as he gently rubbed her firm calves, her slim ankles.  Then she turned, and he stood again, blotting water off her face, her neck, both her breasts, down her smooth tummy.  Her smooth mound -- permanently depilated, like the rest of her.  Soft, satiny, almost shiny in the moist air.  The slave crouched on the floor, drying between her toes, even as she stood.  Then, finished, he folded the towel, held it close against his chest, and knelt, awaiting further orders.
 
"Stand, vomit," Mistress Black said.  She rarely used his slave name, except when she was about to punish him.  Of course, he knew why.  "Extend your hands, fingers out."  He set the towel near the bathtub, and held his hands up, elbows low and bent, wrists at a right angle, fingers outstretched.  Mistress reached to the wall and retrieved the riding crop.  Every room had a riding crop, hanging on the wall.  Always ready.  Ready for Mistress to administer discipline, punishment, whenever she chose.

Thwack!  "Never,"  Thwack!  "ever,"  Thwack!  "EVER!"  Thwack!  "touch me with your hands, without permission, slave!"

vomit felt his fingertips stinging, raging with pain, and fought back tears.

"On the floor.  Back against the toilet.  NOW!"

He dropped to hands and knees, and scurried across the bathroom to comply.  Mistress usually relieved herself after a bath, and the slave opened his mouth wide to receive her golden nectar.  He closed his eyes tight, not permitted to gaze at Mistress Black's smooth, muscular beauty.
 
"Close your mouth, slave!" she commanded.

He obeyed, and felt himself being showered with Mistress' pee, spraying all over his face, his shaved head, down his torso.  Dripping down his arms, his legs.  The scent of her piss made his cock want to rise, and he had to fight hard to keep it soft, even as his gasps for breath snuffled the droplets of her pee, noisily, into his nostrils.  His mouth tightened with the effort, of remaining soft... and quiet...  Suppressing the need to open his mouth, and feel the long, warm stream against his tongue, down his throat, warming his insides, soothing him...  All denied...  Denied, and dribbling down his chin and neck, onto the floor... cooling...

"Now," Mistress said, "Clean up this mess.  With your tongue, slave.  Every drop.  Lick it up -- but you're NOT allowed to swallow!"  She chuckled.  "Your punishment.  Spit EVERY drop into the toilet.  Then do your usual clean-up."  She reached a hand into the bathwater and splashed it a couple of times.  "And wash yourself up.  You're disgusting!  You can use TWO handfuls of my bathwater, no more!"

"Yes, Mistress," vomit answered.

"Did I say you could speak?"  Mistress raised her hand, ready to deliver a blow if the slave replied.  Wisely, he only shook his head.  Good.  She wasn't feeling kindly enough to the little slug to hurt her hand enough to punish him.

The slave leaned forward, and began licking Mistress Black's pee off the floor tiles.  Getting a mouthful, crawling over to the toilet, spitting.

Of course, since he was of no use for dressing her, Mistress had to put on her bathrobe herself.  He would suffer more for that... later...

She walked out the door, down the hall, to the living room.  Her easy chair was properly arranged, with a glass of Chablis and a small plate of grapes and cheese.  Mistress eased herself down into the chair, enjoying the soft embrace of the smooth leather surface.

"Would Mistress like this slave to brush out her hair?"

The voice came from behind Mistress Black.  Her new slave, Sheila.  The young auburn-haired woman didn't have a slave name, yet.  She had not yet shown Mistress, what she would find to be truly demeaning.

"You will kneel in front of me, before you dare speak to me, slave," Mistress replied.  "Bring the riding crop from the wall behind you."

In a moment, Sheila appeared before Mistress, in a tight French maid's uniform, made entirely of rubber.  The skirt was short, not quite long enough to cover her closely shaved pussy in front, nor her smooth, round buttocks in back.  She knelt in front of the chair, arms extended up and forward, holding the riding crop high and horizontal.

"Not quite level, slave," Mistress chided her.  "Which end should be higher?  THINK!  Correct it, NOW!"

Flustered, Sheila looked up at the riding crop, trying to figure which hand needed to be raised.

"Eyes DOWN!  Learn to do it by feel!" Mistress Black commanded.

Sheila looked at the rug beneath her, carefully imagining what her hands must look like.  Right side higher, she guessed... hoped...  She raised the left side, just a little.  And waited.  She could hear the clock over the mantle, counting off the seconds.  Tick, one...  Tick, two...  Had she gotten it right?

Suddenly, she felt the crop removed from her hands.

"Better..." Mistress began, "but not high enough."  Thwack!  She struck Sheila's left hand, the blow stinging against her knuckles.  "You will try harder, next time."

"Y--"  Sheila cut herself off before getting too far with her response of "Yes, Mistress."  She pressed her lips tightly together and nodded.

"Good girl," said Mistress.  "Now, straddle my right foot.  Push your pussy down onto it."  Sheila walked forward on her knees, and sank down onto Mistress' foot.  "That's right, get it deep up inside there."

Mistress gently stroked Sheila's left cheek with the riding crop, teasing her.  Then the right cheek, as she sank deeper onto Mistress' toes, wiggled her hips, then sank further, her own buttocks pressed against the backs of her high-heeled pumps.  Mistress wiggled her toes, and Sheila gasped, trying to hold her hips still.  Staring at the floor, struggling NOT to look at Mistress' strong, smooth thighs.  Mistress Black pushed her foot up... and down... up... and down...  Tears formed in Sheila's eyes, as she tried to suppress the need to squeal, to moan...  Up... and down...  Suddenly, she felt a pulling, a drawing, as Mistress removed her foot from Sheila's cunt.

"I need a foot massage, slave," Mistress said, still caressing Sheila's face, one side then the other, with the riding crop.  "With your tongue, and your fingers.  Down on the floor, NOW, and please your mistress!"

"Y--"  Ohhh, so hard to stop speaking!  Sheila dropped immediately, face to Mistress' wet foot, and began kneading her toes, squeezing, licking and kissing.  Tasting her own juices on Mistress' foot.

vomit appeared from the next room, smelling slightly of strawberry bubble bath, crawling across the floor and carrying a cell phone.  He stopped near Mistress' chair, still looking downward, and held the phone up to Mistress.

"Who is it?" Mistress demanded.  "Answer, slave."

"It is MzDominica, Mistress," vomit replied.  He still held the phone high, and Mistress Black could see from the display that the "mute" button was activated.  She took the phone from vomit, and he curled to the floor in a little ball, awaiting instructions.

A click of the button, and Mistress Black answered, pleasantly.  "Hello, MzDominica!  How are you?"

"I am fine, Mistress Black.  Thanks for asking.  You are well too?"

"Oh yes!  Just enjoying a quiet evening at home."  Sheila had completely cleaned all her juices off Mistress Black's right foot.  Mistress slapped the girl's buttock with the crop, and presented her left foot, wiggling her toes slightly.  She was pleased when Sheila crawled forward again, rose upward, and pushed her cunt down onto Mistress' left foot, eyes on the floor.

"Mmmmm... I'm sure it's a lot like MY quiet evenings at home," Dominica replied.  "I wanted to talk about the slaves you have been sending my way."

"Yes...?" Mistress Black replied.

"They have been very responsive!  And very helpful with the spring planting, and tending crops through the summer..."

"I'm glad to hear that!"

"Yes...  A session or two in your 'decompression chambers,' and they somehow find themselves taking a long drive up in the mountains, looking for a vacation for a week or two."  MzDominica chuckled.  "Of course, once they've been here a while, and I've got them thoroughly trained, I send them back out!  With more... complicated tasks to perform..."

"Then our agreement is working out!" Mistress Black concluded.

There was a brief silence at the other end of the phone.

"Mistress Black," Dominica continued.  "Since fall began, the number of new slaves has been dropping...  Are you experiencing some kind of a problem?"

"No..." Mistress Black replied, "no problems.  The relaxation chambers are working fine, and business is great, at all 800 of my franchises."

"Then why have the slaves stopped coming?" Dominica asked.

Mistress Black pulled her left foot out of Sheila's pussy, and gently tapped the back of her head with the riding crop.  The girl knelt down on all fours and began kneading and sucking Mistress' left foot.

"I'm surprised to hear that," Mistress Black said, flatly.  "I'll have to check into it."

Another pause at the other end.

"Please do," MzDominica continued.  "I have a large harvest that needs to be gotten in!"

"Certainly, MzDominica," Mistress Black said.  "I'm glad you brought this to my attention.  Mmmmm... I need to hang up now, something's come up."

"Of course," said MzDominica.  "I'll talk to you later."

Mistress Black pressed the button to disconnect, and tapped the cell phone on the top of vomit's bald head.  He reached up and took the phone.  Mistress then returned her attentions to the panting maid in front of her.  She laughed, quietly.

A thousand miles away, MzDominica pressed a button on her phone.  She looked at her accountant, who knelt at her feet, also awaiting orders.  "Find out what's going on," she said.

"Yes, Mistress," the slave replied.  He crawled out of Dominica's office, through the tiny slave door.  Once inside his own office, he stood up, picked up his own phone, and dialed a number.  "This is 27.  You must obey Dominica.  Execute protocol 77."

"I must obey Dominica," came the voice from the other end.  "It will be done."

*          *          *          *          *          *

More to come, later!

More stories by jessicablank and MzDominica's other slaves can be found at
http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/">http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/ />and on Her group at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MzDominica/

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MzDominica/">http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MzDominica/

/>

The Exhibit, Pt 1, The Demonstration

jessicablank on BDSM Stories

The Exhibit, a Tale of Dominica's Realm
-- by jessicablank

Part 1:  The Demonstration
 
"He got the idea from the story of Snow White," MzDominica explained, waving one hand over the glass coffin.  It was on a platform and tilted at an angle of forty-five degrees, so the man inside had his head higher than his feet, making him easier to see, though he was not raised as high as Dominica's tall, voluptuous form.  "Complete enclosure," Mistress continued.  "A sensory-deprivation chamber... without light, without sound, without feeling, taste, or smell -- except what I put in -- but on exhibit for everyone to see and enjoy."
 
A woman had just entered the exhibit room, having followed the signs from Dominica's t

Read More
avern that said, "EXHIBIT, this way."  She was dressed more simply than most of the others here, in a tight, black leather corset and a long, black skirt that reached the floor, completely covering her legs.  At the end of the leash she held, a naked man crawled on the floor after her, on his hands and knees.  She stopped, and he curled into a tight, little ball, head down, awaiting the next tug on the leash, or another order from his mistress.
 
"Without light?" she asked.  "In a glass bubble?"
 
MzDominica raised a hand and beckoned.  "Come closer, and take a look."
 
Some of the other women standing nearby shifted position a little, to let the new arrival pass.  They gave no notice to the naked slave crawling just behind her.  She stopped at the side of the coffin, near the middle, and peered inside.  Thick, leather straps held the man's hands and ankles in place.  Several more on the thighs and biceps made sure he could not even bend a limb.  All were softly lined, so there would be no chafing of the skin -- not even to gain some sense of touch from the irritation.
 
The newcomer looked up toward the top of the enclosure.  The man's head was covered with a shiny, black leather hood, with thick padding over the eyes.  Only his nose and mouth were visible.  The little inserts in his nostrils, with the tubes trailing off to the side, reminded her of oxygen supplies she had seen in hospitals.  But the man's mouth was stretched wide -- wrapped around a thick, black, rubber gag, from which a tube rose up... up... up... to a reservoir of yellow fluid.  She could guess what that was.
 
"Yes," Dominica explained, "That's a bottle of my urine.  It drip feeds into his mouth, twenty-four hours a day.  Well...", she continued, "not ONLY my pee," she chuckled.  "Every once in a while, we give him fresh water, or a thin broth with nutrients."  She pointed at the man's nose.  "That's what those tubes are for -- I can pump in air with any smells I like.  My perfume.  My sweat.  And, when he's drinking water or broth, the scent of my piss.  Smell overwhelms the sense of taste -- so, for him, everything tastes like my pee!"
 
Several of the women were absent-mindedly stroking their own breasts, or between their legs.  Like the new arrival, most of them had a male or female slave kneeling on the floor next to them.  One had grabbed her slave by his hair and roughly dragged him around and upward, pressing his face against her crotch.
 
Looking back down at the man's head, the newcomer asked, "What are the headphones for?"
 
"White noise," MzDominica replied.  "There is a continuous feed of sound into his ears, to mask out any sounds in the room.  So we can move around, and even talk -- and he won't have any idea we're here."
 
Suddenly, there was a gentle thrumming sound, and movement mid-way down the coffin.  The man inside was naked, except for the mask, the tubing, and a few other attachments.  Strong and muscular, his body was a deep bronze color, with no tan lines -- as if he spent much of his time outside in the sunlight, instead of closed up in a little box.  There was a catheter inserted into his cock, and a black, rubber sleeve, wrapped around it.  It was the cock that was moving, and the sleeve making the gentle noise.
 
MzDominica chuckled.  "The sound you hear is another clever invention of the slave who designed this exhibit," she explained.  "It works kind of like one of those floater valves in a toilet tank."  Pointing to the rising, hardening cock, she continued, "Whenever his cock starts to get soft and droop, it activates a switch.  The sleeve gives his cock a little massage -- slow, gentle waves, caressing and squeezing.  Just enough to get him hard again.  And then it stops."  And just as she finished talking, the thrumming did indeed stop.
 
"It keeps him hard ALL the time?" asked a woman in green riding leathers.
 
"ALL the time," Dominica smiled.
 
The newcomer gave a sudden tug on her slave's leash, and quietly spoke one word:  "Lick."  She reached down to the front of her skirt, pulling it where one side overlapped the other, revealing smooth, muscular legs and red calf boots.  She shifted her left foot outward, giving the slave room to crawl between her legs and stretch his head upward, toward her pussy, just as she pulled the flap back into place, concealing herself again, wrapping her slave in darkness as he applied his soft, warm tongue.
 
"How long will he be here?" asked the woman in green.
 
"Two more days," Dominica replied.  "He's been in there for three days already.  Getting slowly, gently conditioned for even more complete obedience."
 
"Conditioned?" the newcomer asked, her face a little flushed.  She found it hard to tear her gaze away from the big, glass enclosure, and the subject inside.
 
"That's right, you just arrived," MzDominica said.  "I had explained earlier, that the headphones aren't ONLY for white noise.  Every once in a while, I add in a track of hypnotic suggestions, at a subliminal level.  He's never consciously aware that they're even playing -- but there is no other stimulus in his mind, so he is completely unable to ignore them."  She reached over to a console, and touched a switch.  "Here, you can listen for a moment on the speaker, overhead.  I've got the sound channels balanced differently, so you can hear it."

The speaker came to life, with a gentle hissing in the background -- the white noise track, that formed the main part of the slave's auditory experiences.  But the other track was easier to hear:  "...becoming more and more obedient...  Drip... drip... drip...  Every drop of My pee that you swallow...  increases your need to obey...  You must obey Dominica...  Drip... drip... drip...  Every drop you swallow...  every drop of My pee... makes you need to serve Me, more and more...  Drip... Swallow...  Drip...  Swallow and obey..."
 
Dominica flipped the switch again, turning the speaker off.  "Well, you get the idea."
 
Several more slaves had found their faces pressed between their mistresses' thighs.  Licking.  Nuzzling.  In a corner of the room, one was having his nose roughly humped by a woman with red hair.
 
Dominica smiled.  Oh, yes, a very interested crowd.  "Any questions?"
 
The woman in green spoke up again, "Where is the inventor?  I'd like to get one of these."
 
Laughing, Dominica pointed toward the coffin.  "You're looking at him."
 
The room filled with little gasps of delight, and a few wicked-sounding, quiet laughs.
 
"Yes," MzDominica continued, "In a couple of days, we'll take him out.  He'll be too dazed to do any thinking for a while -- not that I encourage that sort of thing around here."  This drew a few more laughs.  "I'll put him put him to work, doing something physical to build up his strength again.  Plowing the fields for spring planting, or maybe pulling a pony cart."
 
"MzDominica," the newcomer said, "I'd like to speak with you afterward, if I may."  She was panting, finding it hard to speak.  She gave a tap of her hand, down at the front of her dress, and said, "Stop."  Deep within the folds of her dress, the slave stopped licking.
 
"Certainly," Dominica said.  "Are there any other questions?  No?  Then feel free to stay awhile and watch.  And be sure to tell your friends!"
 
Most of the women began walking out, slowly returning to the tavern with their slaves in tow.  A couple of them signed the visitor's book near the doorway, and the redhead left with her slave, after dropping a business card on the table.  Now that the room was less crowded, those who remained approached the coffin for a better look.
 
MzDominica remained standing by the coffin, regally still, allowing the newcomer time to realize that it was she who needed to approach Dominica, rather than the reverse.  With obvious reluctance, the woman opened the front of her skirt again and gave a tug on the leash, ordering her slave out into the open again.  She walked step by slow step toward Dominica, glancing at the coffin, then back to Mistress, as if thinking, reconsidering, and evaluating possibilities.  Finally, she closed the distance between them, near enough for a private conversation, without implications of TOO much intimacy.  She had the good grace to incline her head a moment, bow a little, and say, "Mistress Dominica, may I introduce myself.  I am known as Mistress Black."
 
"Very glad to meet you," Dominica replied.
 
"I have a proposal for you, Mistress, if I may."
 
"Yes?  What do you have in mind?"
 
"I run a chain of spas, with franchises all over the country.  Most of them cater only to a female clientele.  Your slave's invention, here, suggests a way I might expand my business to attract the other half of the population.  I can promote them as decompression chambers, for relaxation."  She smiled engagingly.
 
"Go on," Dominica prompted, raising one eyebrow.

"Well, it represents a considerable investment -- so I'm looking, of course, for any ways I can, to reduce my initial costs.  To get any discount I can."
 
Dominica's expression suddenly looked a little less approving.

"What I propose," the newcomer continued, "is to keep YOUR hypnotic suggestions in the sound tracks -- perhaps you can even augment them... so that every man who tries out the decompression chamber will feel compelled to become your slave, and perhaps come here to your Realm for even more training and conditioning."

Dominica's smile slowly returned.  "Mistress Black, we may have something to talk about."  She stepped forward, extending a hand, and touched the newcomer's shoulder.  "Let's go back to the tavern and I'll buy you a drink.  I could use a beer, myself."  She looked back at the coffin.  "My little slave, here, is going to need his reservoir refilled, pretty soon!"  She ushered Mistress Black through the door, ignoring the naked slave who scuttled after her, and followed her, back to the pub.

Left alone in the room, the slave in the coffin continued to lie still.  Slowly breathing.  Drip... Drip...  Drip...  The sleeve around his cock made a thrumming noise for a few moments, caressing, tightening, stiffening... and then went silent.

*          *          *          *          *          *

More to come, later!

Sex Games

jessicablank on BDSM Stories

Sex Games
-- by jessicablank
 
Mistress Elizabeth watched Todd walk through the door.  Sitting regally in her chair, she slapped her leather paddle against her hand.  The impact stung a bit, but seeing Todd flinch at the impact was worth it.  "You're late," she said.
 
Todd looked at his watch, caught off guard.  "No, I'm not, Mistress -- I'm..."
 
"Did I hear correctly, slave?"  Mistress Elizabeth's voice was threatening.  "Did you just contradict me?"

Flustered, now, Todd replied, "No, Mistress, I was just--"
 
"The forbidden word, slave!"  Mistress Elizabeth slapped her palm again.
 
Todd dropped onto the floor, kneeling, head bo

Read More
wed.  His arms rose, outstretched, crossed at the wrists as if bound.  The position he assumed without thought, without resistance.  "I am sorry, Mistress!  I have been a bad, bad slave.  Please forgive me, Mistress."
 
"Forgive?"  The tone of Mistress Elizabeth's voice was just below complete outrage.  "Late in arriving, one demerit."
 
Todd winced, knowing this would cost him in punishment, very soon.
 
"Uttering the forbidden word... NO!" Mistress Elizabeth continued.  Todd cowered, hearing the word from Mistress' lips, already feeling pain from the word itself.  Pain she had conditioned into him, as a Pavlovian response.  His mind refused to remember the extended whippings, the repeated shouts of the forbidden word, his cries and whimpers -- it refused to remember, but the pain was there.  The aversion was there.  He could not help himself.  "THREE demerits!"
 
Todd began shaking, trying not to imagine what his punishment might be.
 
"But... I am in a merciful mood tonight, slave," Mistress Elizabeth smiled.  Todd was not sure he felt relieved at the sight of that smile.  "Still, I am going to change our plans for this evening."

Todd's weeks in chastity were supposed to have been at end, and he had been hoping for Mistress to grant his aching cock the relief of an orgasm -- even a tiny one.  Even if it meant hours of being whipped, and licking Mistress' pussy, and tonguing her ass, and obeying her every demeaning command...  And now...  Now it was all changed.  Something else was going to happen.  He felt the cock cage squeezing tighter around his penis -- so sensitive and yet so numb, after all the weeks of being locked up.
 
"Yes, Mistress," he replied -- and bowed to the floor, touching his forehead to the hardwood surface.  His arms remained outstretched, and the jacket of his suit felt tight around his arms and shoulders.  Still, he waited for Mistress Elizabeth's next command.
 
"Instead of our planned activities for this evening," she continued, "I want to do something... simple.  I want to play a game."  She leaned forward, gently slapping her hand once more, enjoying that Todd flinched at the sound.  She sat up straight in her chair, and said, "We're going to play... checkers!"
 
Todd felt confused.  He was certain he'd heard it wrong.  "Checkers, Mistress?"
 
"That's right.  You'll be red, and I'll be black."  Another slap of the paddle.  Todd shook.  "Go to the hall closet and bring out the checker set."
 
Todd stood up, and almost ran down the hall, to the end, and opened the doors.  He looked up to the left, finding the Monopoly game, the boxes of playing cards, the poker chips.  Finally, his eyes landed on the box with the checker and chess games.  He pulled the box out, and trotted down the hallway.  In a few minutes, he had set up the checkerboard, and the flat, coin-shaped game pieces, the red pieces all at his end of the board.  Todd hovered over the table, not sure what to do next.  Mistress was seated at one side, and an empty chair was at the other -- where his red pieces were.  But he knew better than to assume he had permission to sit.
 
Mistress reached out and swatted Todd's ass with the paddle.  "Strip, slave!  Clothes off -- NOW!"  Todd hastily began unbuttoning his jacket, draping it on the chair, unzipping his pants, removing his shirt.  Soon, he was setting aside his shoes and socks, with his underwear folded carefully on top, in the corner, against the wall.

"Sit down, slave," she commanded.  Todd sat, not sure what to do next.  Mistress Elizabeth shifted the board around, centering it on the table.  She looked up at him, holding the leather paddle in one hand.  There was no smile on her face.  Something was up.
 
"Your move," Mistress commanded.
 
Todd looked at the board.  The opening move in checkers -- there weren't all that many choices.  He pushed a red piece toward the center of the board, diagonally.
 
"One square," Mistress announced, "one swat.  Stand up and bend over, slave."
 
Todd looked at the board.  What had he gotten into?  He rose from the chair and bent over, presenting his bottom to Mistress.  THWACK!!  Her leather paddle hit his buttocks firmly, almost making him grunt with surprise.
 
"Sit down, slave," Mistress said.
 
Todd turned around, looking at Mistress Elizabeth, feeling confused -- but aroused at the same time.  His cock thickened inside the tight chastity, hurting a little.  Todd sat down -- though his bottom felt sore, and the chair chafed against his skin.
 
Mistress Elizabeth moved a black piece toward his red piece, the one he had first moved.  Blocking any further movement.  "On your knees, slave.  Kiss my foot."
 
Todd immediately dropped to the floor, and crawled next to the table, positioning his face over Mistress' right foot.  He was delighted that she was wearing sandals, out of which she could easily slip, exposing her long, smooth toes with the red painted nails.  He kissed the sensitive spot on the top of her foot, between the big toe and the second toe.  Lingering there, letting the warmth of his mouth soak into her skin, gently brushing his lips against her foot.  Then he planted a second kiss a little higher on her foot, more to the center, hearing her moan quietly at the sensation.
 
"Enough, slave.  Back in the chair.  Your move."
 
Todd felt disoriented.  Oh, yes -- the checker game.  He'd completely forgotten it, in his ecstasy of kissing Mistress' foot.  Todd rose quickly, bumping his right shoulder on the edge of the table, feeling incredibly clumsy.  He stood, realizing his cock was beginning to ache inside the tiny cage.  He bit his lower lip for a moment, and levered himself back into the chair, as Mistress had commanded.  He pushed a second red piece forward, leaving the first one protected.
 
"Another square, another swat," Mistress announced.  "Stand up, slave."  Todd stood.  "Turn around."  He presented his backside to Mistress for another swat.  There was a moment's delay, and then the sudden impact of her leather paddle on his skin -- forcing a tiny squeal from Todd's throat.  "Sit down again... slave," Mistress commanded.
 
Todd sat, shaking a little.  And watched as Mistress Elizabeth moved a different black piece toward his red one -- leaving an empty space behind it.
 
"On the floor," she commanded.  Todd dropped on all fours, as Mistress Elizabeth spread her legs wide.  "Nuzzle my pussy, slave."
 
Todd crawled forward, and pushed his face against Mistress Elizabeth's crotch, under her raised skirt.  Of course, she wore no panties, as usual during their sessions.  He pressed his nose along the cleft of her pussy, breathing slowly out through his nose, warming her skin.  He circled down and to the left, trailing the tip of his nose up the space between her thigh and her outer labia, then circling over her shaved mound.  Then down to the right and up again, along the other thigh.  He was about to press his nose directly against her cleft, when Mistress commanded, "Back in the chair, slave.  Your move."
 
Todd scrambled backwards on the floor, truly shaking now.  He rolled back and stood, then dropped his aching bottom onto the chair, surprised at how sore he felt back there.

He looked at the board, and saw Mistress' piece diagonal from his, with an empty space behind it.  A little uncertain about the consequences, Todd looked up at Mistress.
 
"You know the rules," she said.  "If you can jump, you MUST jump."  She stared at Todd, silently daring him to contradict her.  But the slave knew better.  He lifted the red piece, placed it on the board behind hers, and removed the black one, setting it aside on the table.
 
"Two squares... TWO swats!" Mistress Elizabeth announced.
 
Todd stood, presenting his red, sore bottom.
 
"Not on the rear, this time, slave," said Mistress.  "Turn around and face me."
 
Confused, Todd turned, his hands still clasped together, not knowing what to expect.
 
Mistress pointed her paddle at him.  "Hands behind you, slave."  And Todd moved his hands, his right hand grabbing two of the fingers of his left.  "Look down!" Mistress commanded.  "I did not give you permission to look at my face."  Todd stared down at the floor, his cock so tight in the chastity.
 
THWACK!  THWACK!  A hard blow across the top of his left thigh, another across the top of his left.  Todd's eyes filled with tears at the pain.  He tried to suppress a moan, but found himself sobbing for a moment, unable to stop.  Mistress waited, while Todd composed himself, and began to shuffle backward, and started to sit down again.
 
"Did I tell you to sit down, slave?" asked Mistress.
 
"N-- " Todd began, then caught himself before uttering the dreaded word.  "You did not, Mistress."  He resumed standing straight, his buttocks and thighs burning, cock aching.
 
"You took one of my pieces," Mistress Elizabeth accused.
 
It's part of the rules, Todd thought.  But he answered, "Yes, Mistress."
 
"What should be your punishment, for taking one of your Mistress' game pieces?"  She stood up, and approached Todd closely.  She pressed the edge of the paddle under his chin, pushing upwards.  "Look at me, slave."  Todd looked into her eyes.  "What sort of punishment should you receive?"

Todd was shaking, afraid that saying the wrong thing would earn him even more severe pain than getting it right.  "I...  I don't know, Mistress."
 
She trailed the edge of the paddle down Todd's neck, down the center of his chest, pressing it gently against his navel.  "You... don't... know..."  She drew the paddle back, as if getting ready for a swing at his face, and Todd's eyes went wide.  The Mistress Elizabeth lifted her other hand, holding up a small, black box, with two electrodes at one end.  She showed it to Todd, letting him see the small, metal prods glitter in the light.  Then she lowered her hand to his crotch, pressed the box against his balls under the chastity, and pressed the button.
 
Waves of intense pain throbbed through his balls, and Todd screamed, expelling the breath he had been holding without realizing it.  He lost all count of time, of how long the electrical sparks shot through his groin, but it seemed to go on forever.  Suddenly, Mistress Elizabeth pulled the box away, and Todd began to cry, shaking -- as Mistress casually walked back to her chair and sat down.

"Sit, slave!"  She reached out to the board, and moved another black piece, giving Todd another opening to jump -- straight to her side of the board.

Gasping for breath, Todd sat, and examined the board, realizing his was the next move.  He reached out to the red piece, ready to jump again.  Afraid of the consequences.
 
"Not yet, slave!  I just moved a square.  Time to pleasure your mistress.  On your knees again, and over here," she pointed.
 
Todd slipped off the chair, feeling the edge scrape against his sore bottom.  He shuffled forward on his knees, not sure if he should be crawling.  Mistress did not correct him.  And when he arrived at her chair, she unzipped her top, exposing her breasts.
 
"The left nipple -- SUCK!"
 
Todd leaned forward, his mouth opening...
 
"Not that way, slave!  MY left!"
 
Suddenly, Todd found Mistress' knee pressed firmly against his balls.  Not roughly -- but meaning business.  His mind was going fuzzy, it was hard to think.  He shook his head, trying to clear the fog, then thought a moment, and leaned to his right.  His lips closed around the large, soft nipple.  Teasing and sucking.  Feeling it harden inside his mouth.  He sucked, and then dared to scrape the edge of his teeth -- gently -- over the skin of Mistress' nipple.  Her moans told him she was enjoying the sensation.
 
"Enough, slave."  Mistress reached up with both hands, and pushed Todd's head away.
 
He crawled backwards, stood, and sat again, feeling the chair on his sore buttocks.  He began to reach for the red piece again, afraid of what might happen next.  Then Todd pulled back, folded both hands in his lap, and begged, "Please, Mistress, I don't want to play any more."

Mistress Elizabeth leaned her elbows on the table, smiling.  "Honesty, at least.  Good.  I don't want you holding any secrets from me."  She leaned back in her chair.  "But I never said you had a choice, whether to play or not."
 
Todd felt the floor drop out from under him.  His jaw dropping open, he leaned toward the board again, reaching for the piece.

"And," said Mistress, "in case you have any expectations of minimizing your punishment..."
 
Todd looked up, though he had not been given permission to look in Mistress' face.
 
"I want to make sure you play a good game."  She smiled even more broadly.  "I want you to play to win."
 
"Yes, Mistress," Todd replied, prepared to obey.

"And to sweeten the victory..."  The dominatrix reached into a pocket in her skirt and withdrew a shiny metal object.  She held it up, dangling it in front of Todd, at her end of the board.  The key to his cock cage.
 
"Mistress?..." Todd began, not sure what to ask.

She swung the key back and forth... watching his eyes follow...  "Yes, if you win the game, I'll unlock you -- for tonight..."  Then she withdrew the key, and put it back in the pocket.  "But if you lose...  I'll leave you locked up for an extra four weeks."
 
Todd's cock throbbed with pain, inside the tight lock.  "Yes, Mistress."
 
"You want to win... don't you?" she said.
 
"Yes, Mistress."

"Good boy.  Now, make your move."

Todd reached out to the red piece, and lifted it.  Jumping over Mistress' black piece to the back row.  He picked up the black piece, set it aside.  Remembering the punishments that Mistress had administered so far.  He looked down at the table, again remembering his place as a slave.  His voice quavered when he said the words that he MUST say:  "King me."
 
Mistress Elizabeth lifted the red checker, then took one of the discarded black checkers and placed it underneath, stacking the two together, with the red checker on top.  Now Todd's piece was the most powerful one on the board, able to move forward and backward.
 
Todd waited for Mistress' next command, afraid to imagine what she would do next.
 
"Go to the wall, and retrieve the riding crop, slave," she said.
 
When Todd returned, Mistress administered one blow to each testicle, making it so hard for him to stand.  She gently stroked the tip of the riding crop under Todd's balls, cooing, "That's two swats for two squares."  She leaned forward, and gently blew into Todd's ear, nibbling his earlobe.  "Now... for taking another of your Mistress' pieces... I want you to kneel on the floor, in a little ball."
 
Todd dropped to the floor, curling up, his hands balled into loose fists, held closely against his chest.  Click... click... click...  He could hear Mistress' boots, as she walked around him...  Around to his right... then by his head...  Trailing the riding crop down his back, between his shoulder blades.  Then walking past his left side... trailing the crop down between his ass cheeks...  Oh, God, not his balls again!  Then THWACK! THWACK! she struck two hard blows on the soles of his feet.  THWACK!  again, and THWACK! again.  Over and over, making Todd's feet feel like they were on fire!  The pain was so intense, he only realized Mistress had stopped when she shouted at him.
 
"Get up!" Mistress commanded.

Todd stood.

"Sit down," she said.  And Todd limped over to his chair, barely able to walk.  He slumped into it, panting, trying to remember whose turn it was.
 
Mistress pushed another black checker forward, directly in the path of his king.  Was she "throwing" the game?  Todd could barely think.  He started to reach for his king, when he realized again that he should be waiting for a command to pleasure Mistress.  He hardly heard her voice, as she commanded him to lie on the floor, face up.  In a moment, she was lowering her smooth, round ass on top of his face, cutting off his air, commanding him to push his tongue deeper into her ass, while her riding crop trailed up his left thigh... then up his right thigh...  So hard to think... seeing stars flashing...  His tongue deep into her warm hole...  Todd licked... and wiggled his tongue... again forgetting all about the checker game...  Then suddenly, Mistress' bottom lifted, and Todd exhaled, almost explosively, and gasped in a deep breath of fresh air.
 
"Up, slave," Mistress commanded.  "Sit down, and make your next move!"
 
And so the game continued.  The long, slow game of checkers.  Move by move, Todd alternated between pleasuring Mistress -- with his mouth, with his hands, licking, kneading, massaging, sucking -- and receiving so many different kinds of pain.  More strokes with the riding crop, slow crushing of his balls, a spiked wheel down all the most sensitive parts of his skin, and the whip -- stroke after stroke, on his ass, on his thighs, on his back.  Till, finally, shaking and barely able to see through the tears, Todd jumped his red king over Mistress' final black piece, and removed it from the board.
 
He stared down at the board, unthinking, the chair digging into his sore buttocks, the floor burning on his aching feet.  He waited, shivering.  Inhaling deeply, and shuddering as he blew out each breath.
 
Todd heard a scratching.  A scrape of something hard across the surface of the checker board.  And Mistress' hand entered his field of vision, now a narrow tunnel of light through the pain, pushing the key toward him.  Todd did not recognize it at first.
 
"You won, slave," Mistress said.  "Todd, can you hear me?  You won."
 
Todd stared at the key.  Then two thoughts finally met inside his head, and he reached forward, taking the key from Mistress Elizabeth's hand.  She let him take it, easily.  And he sat still, trying to remember what to do next.
 
"You may now unlock your chastity, slave -- only for tonight."
 
"Thank you, Mistress," Todd muttered.  He reached down to his crotch with the key, fumbling for a moment, and inserted it into the lock.  A simple turn, and click, and the lock slipped out, letting him open the cock cage and set it aside on the table.

"Stand up, and turn around," Mistress said.
 
Todd stood, feeling dazed.  His cock felt so strange, so cold out of the chastity.  So light, with the weight and the confinement removed.  He barely noticed Mistress moving around -- but he felt her wrapping the cuffs around his thighs, then the cuffs around his wrists.  The click-click of locks finally brought Todd out of his daze, and he realized that his hands had been locked at his sides, well away from his newly-liberated penis.
 
"Mistress...?" Todd began to ask.
 
"I said you could unlock your cock, slave," Mistress replied, "not that you could stroke it."
 
Mistress Elizabeth demonstrated, by squeezing her hand around Todd's cock, so very gently, and pulling from the base to the tip.  Reminding him of the sensation -- it had been so long!  He felt ready to cum, instantly -- but she let go of his cock, and took hold of his chin.
 
"Look at me, slave."

Todd looked into her eyes.
 
"You're going to sleep on your back, tonight.  No sheets or blankets.  NOTHING is to touch your cock -- do you understand?"
 
"Yes, Mistress," Todd nodded.
 
"Good boy," she replied.  "In the morning, I'll put your chastity back on for you, before releasing your hands."  She traced her fingertip around his lips, causing his cock to leap upwards, the pressure so instantly increasing.
 
"Would you like to be able to stroke it?" Mistress asked.

Todd shook, and his hips began to thrust forward, automatically.  "Yes, Mistress!  Please, Mistress, let me--"
 
"Shhhhhhhh!" Mistress said, pressing her finger against Todd's lips, sealing them.  "You're going to have to EARN that privilege, slave -- by playing another game.  Tomorrow night.  Would you like that?"
 
Todd shivered again, fear and lust warring inside his head, inside his body.  He found himself answering, "Yes, Mistress."  The words came with so little thought, now.
 
"When I was a little girl, I was very good at... marbles!  Would you like to play marbles with me, slave?"
 
"Yes, Mistress."  More and more automatic.
 
"Good.  Of course, every time you hit my marbles, you get to keep them."  She trailed her fingers down Todds chest, around his torso, around the bound arm, to his back, and down the cleft of his ass.  "I have some very special plans, on WHERE you will get to them."  She laughed, quietly.  "And I have a VERY big bag of marbles."
 
Todd's buttocks clenched together, involuntarily.  Still, his resistance was non-existent for now.  "Yes, Mistress," he replied.
 
"Come to bed now, slave," Mistress said, pulling on Todd's arm.  "Before you fall asleep, Mistress needs a good licking.  You'll get to smell my juices on your face all night long.  Won't that be nice?"  She hugged his arm closely.  "Doesn't it feel so good, to have your cock out of that tight cage?"

Todd walked side by side with Elizabeth, toward their bedroom, no longer thinking words.  Simply reacting to the mental images of licking Mistress' slick, wet pussy.  "Yes, Mistress."  Hands at his sides, mind in neutral, ready to serve.  The perfect, obedient slave.  Not even thinking about that big bag of marbles, and how the little, cool spheres would feel as they were pushed one by one, up inside him.  Tomorrow's game.  That was tomorrow's game.

"Yes, Mistress."  Tonight was yes, Mistress.
 
Yes, Mistress.


*          *           *          *          *

For more free stories by MzDominica's slaves, check her site at
http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/">http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/ />

The Exhibit,Ch.5 (conclusion)

jessicablank on BDSM Stories

Part 5:  Domination and Slavery (conclusion)

Synopsis:  At the inn in Her Realm, MzDominica demonstrated Her glass-covered sensory deprivation chamber, showing how the use of Her Voice as a subliminal soundtrack could be used to program slaves' minds to obey her, so very deeply.  Mistress Black, who owns a chain of spas, made a deal with Dominica, to use the "relaxation chambers" to expand her business, getting chambers at a discount, in exchange for using them to recruit more slaves for Dominica.  The problem is, fewer and fewer new slaves have been reporting to Dominica's mountain community.  MzDominica sent out some of her slaves on a little "reconnaissance mission," and they found that the relaxation chambers were no longer deliveri

Read More
ng their brainwashing messages to Mistress Black's customers.  Dominica's response was helped by her techo-slaves, who modified Mistress Black's lights and audio equipment to hypnotize her into driving up to Dominica's Realm for a little "vacation."

*          *          *          *          *          *
 
Mistress Black lay in the glass coffin.  Blindfolded.  Gagged with the soft, rubber mouthpiece, the tiny tube dripping MzDominica's pale, yellow pee into her mouth.  Each sharp, salty drop made the woman shiver with ecstasy as it touched her tongue, behind the gag, and slowly rolled down… toward the back of her throat… gliding over her tongue… to the back, where she could taste the gentle bitterness of Dominica's fluids…  And then, almost reluctantly, she swallowed… moaning behind the gag as her body shook…
 
"My pee gives you pleasure," Dominica's unrelenting voice continued, playing through the headphones.  "Deep, arousing, sexual pleasure.  Every drop you swallow feels like an orgasm.  Rippling through your body.  Spreading out, from your throat, as each drop of My pee drips down… down… down deep inside you.  Spreading out like a wave.  Deep waves of pleasure, like having your nipples sucked… like having your pussy licked…  Every tiny drop of Dominica's pee, like an orgasm.  Swallow… and cum…  Swallow… and cum…  You crave to obey Dominica…  You crave to swallow… and cum…  Feel the next drop roll down your tongue…  So very slowly…  You want to keep it on your tongue…  You want to taste it as long as you can…  Each tiny drop…  Drop…  Drop…  Swallow… and CUM…  Such intense pleasure…  You never want it to end…"
 
There was nothing subliminal about this recording.  The white noise had been replaced with the sounds of dripping water…  The sound of Dominica's voice was like a lover, speaking intimately, but easily heard.  Unhurried.  She had all the time in the world.  Dominica's words repeated over and over, as the reservoir of yellow fluid dripped… dripped… dripped… into Mistress Black's widely-stretched mouth.
 
"Blank…  Blank…  Blank…  When I say the word blank, your mind empties out immediately.  You go blank.  So blank and empty.  Blank.  Not a thought in your head.  Blank.  Mind gone.  Thinking stopped.  You do not think.  You only swallow.  Swallow and drink My pee.  Drip…  Drip… Drip…  My delicious, orgasmic pee…  Blank… you do not think…  Blank…  So empty…  Mind so empty…  My pee gives you such pleasure…  Feel each drop, each tiny drop.  So delicious.  As the waves of an orgasm spread out from your tongue…  Down your throat… up into your brain…  Your empty, empty brain…  Drip…  Blank…  Drip…  Feels so good…  Blank…  Feels so good…"
 
The woman's skin looked so shiny, inside the glass coffin.  Naked, covered with a sheen of sweat.  At first, it was resistance.  She had tried so hard to resist.  Even when she could no longer remember the long drive up the mountain road, up through the clouds, through the pass and into the valley, the view of Dominica's farming community gradually dropping behind the forest as she wove back and forth down the mountainside.  Approaching the inn, with the sign cryptically labeled "Dominica's."  Shivering in ecstasy with each tiny drop of pee, she no longer remembered walking into the tavern, and dropping to her knees at Dominica's booted feet, the scent of leather making her shake, even then.  No longer remembered gazing down at the floor, unable to think, unable to move, until she felt MzDominica's hand on the back of her head, and heard her voice utter a single word:  "Sleep."
 
Sleep…  Sleep…  Was it Dominica's Voice, telling her to sleep?  Or the memory of when Dominica commanded her to sleep?  And sleep.  And sleep.  Dropping deeper and deeper, until she lay on the floor, nose and chin pressed against Dominica's boot, in a kiss she could not remember giving.  The warm arms of male and female slaves had gently lifted her, held her close, almost lovingly… and carried her to the special training rooms, deep underground.  The rooms with the special brainwashing chambers, rows and rows of new slaves wearing headphones and blindfolds, listening to MzDominica's Voice…  Teasing them, programming them, wiping their minds clean, and programming them again.  Over and over, until the false, implanted memories began to merge with the real ones, and a new personality emerged -- docile, obedient, quiet.  Dominica's quiet, empty-minded, hypnotized slaves.  Cocks always so hard.  Pussies always so wet and dripping. 
 
Now the resistance was gone.  Now there was only lust.  And obedience.  And a continual need to serve Dominica.  One by one, each of the newly-programmed slaves was attended by a man or a woman wearing long, black, shiny leather boots, and a solid, metallic chastity belt.  The "coffin" was opened.  The headphones, gag, and restraints were removed.  And the booted slave held a shiny crystal up before the eyes of the new slave and said two words:  "Follow, follower."  Like a zombie, slowly and stiffly, the new slave arose from the enclosure, never taking his or her eyes off the crystal, following as the booted slave led the way out of the room.
 
But Mistress Black was not in the big room with the rows and rows of newly-recruited slaves.  No… she was in one of the special rooms, for even deeper training.  And tears ran down her cheeks as the orgasms became more and more intense.  As each tiny drop of pee hit her tongue and set off waves of pleasure like an earthquake, forcing her to sob around the gag.  She would have begged for the next drop -- each and every next drop -- if only she could speak.  But the gag held her tongue still, dripping… dripping… dripping… as the vibrator against her clit, and the shafts inside her pussy and ass, gently thrummed and buzzed, keeping her just at the edge of orgasm.  Just at the edge, until a drop of sharp, tangy fluid touched her tongue, and rolled down from the front slowly to the back, and she sobbed with pleasure as the orgasmic waves tore through her body and mind.
 
Addicted.  Thoroughly addicted to Dominica.  Needing and craving the pleasure.  Needing to serve.  Helplessly aroused, and silently begging with her mind, begging for the next orgasm.  Just one more tiny drop.  One more tiny wave!  And the drop would fall, and her body would spasm from head to toe, her voice squealing and moaning behind the gag.
 
Mistress Black felt, rather than saw, the blindfold being removed from her eyes.  The gag remained in her mouth, and her arms and legs were still bound with the strong, leather straps.  The screen in front of her showed images of men and women.  The display changed from moment to moment.  Still photos, live video recordings… even paintings and cartoons.  Each one showed a dominant, or a submissive, or both.  Men kneeling, women licking boots…  A drop of urine on her tongue, and Mistress Black shook with pleasure, spasms and waves cascading through her body and mind.  Dominant women slapping their slaves, beating them with whips, kicking them.  Not a drop.  "Thirsty… you are so thirsty…" the Voice in the headphones whispered.  Mistress Black ached for just one more tiny drop of pee.  Just one more.  Inside the gag, her tongue began to move, trying to suck just a drop out of the tubing.  Just a tiny drop.  As the slapping continued on the screen.  As slave after slave was whipped, or paddled.  Then the images changed again, showing a woman in long, black gloves, holding a spinning crystal in front of the face of a kneeling man.  His gaze was clearly captured by the spinning, flashing gem.  Drip… a tiny drop of pee fell onto Mistress Black's tongue, and rolled slowly down, toward the back of her throat.  She swallowed, and moaned in pleasure… a small tear rolling down her cheek, as she watched the crystal spinning, spinning, spinning before the man's eyes.  Drip… another drop of pure pleasure!  Mistress Black's eyes wanted to roll back in her head, savoring the pure joy of the pee-induced orgasm -- but she couldn't take her eyes off the screen.  "Watch…" Dominica's Voice said, "you need to watch…  Your eyes want to close, so badly…  But you need to keep them open…  You simply cannot stop looking…  Cannot stop staring at the images…  Watch…"  The man's eyes closed, and his head dropped onto his chest.  A tiny squirt of pee into her mouth, and Mistress Black's limbs moved like she was having convulsions.  The man curled forward, and began to lick the woman's black boot, and a tiny stream of pee poured down Mistress Black's throat -- for just a moment -- while she struggled to moan and swallow at the same time, almost choking, drops of pee dripping out her nostrils.  Another image, of a tall, dark-haired woman, slapping a slave with her gloved hand.  No pee.  "Thirsty… so thirsty…"  Mistress Black began to cry… to sob…  Needing the salty/sour/bitter pee in her mouth so much!  She watched slap after slap, as the slave's face was forcibly twisted to the right, then the left, then the right again.  Slapping and stinging the submissive face that could not move away, could not resist.  Thirsty.  So thirsty.  She wanted a sip.  Wanted a drink.  Wanted to feel the waves cascade through her again and again.  Another image, with a spinning crystal -- this time, with a young woman on her knees, looking up, squeezing her own nipples in her fingers, shaking.  Drip…  Oh yes!  Mistress Black swallowed, gratefully, staring at the woman on her knees, looking into her vacant eyes, as the little slut played with herself, unable to stop.
 
*          *          *          *          *          *
 
"Follow, follower!"  The spinning, flashing crystal called Mistress Black out of the box.  She was hardly aware that her arms and legs were now unbound.  The gag removed from her mouth.  She felt as if she were still wearing the headphones, still feeling a pressure against the sides of her head.  Her head… that felt full of cotton…  So empty and full at the same time…  The crystal was so pretty, and looking at it made her mouth taste of pee.  So delicious, making her shake with lust.  So pretty… flashing so pretty…  She saw the crystal move away, and wanted to follow.  Wanted to follow where it went.  Stiffly, she pushed and pulled herself to a standing position, and walked, following the flashing, glittering crystal.  Was it floating?  Was somebody holding it?  She couldn't tell.  All she could see was the pretty, spinning crystal.  And hear the voice calling her to follow.  Follow, follower.  Follow.  Follow the crystal.  Down the long hallway.  Down the stairs into the torchlit room.  Cold.  It felt so cold.  Stones everywhere, rough and gray.  Lit only by the flickering torches, and the large brazier at the center of the room.  The smell of smoke made her mind feel even more clouded.

"Kneel," she heard a voice say.  And the sound of being commanded tasted like pee.  She dropped to her knees, and felt her shoulders pushed back and downward, so she sat back on her heels.  She hardly noticed the chains being pulled over her thighs, the shackles being attached to her wrists.  Locking her down, onto the floor.  She stared at the crystal as it moved away from her.  Across the room.  The crystal dangled from a chain, and there was a hand holding it, of that she was vaguely aware.  The chain was passed from one hand to another, a hand with long, red fingernails.
 
"You must obey," the holder of the chain said.  The holder of the crystal.  Mistress Black remembered that Voice.  The Voice from inside her mind.  The Voice that tasted like pee.  Her body shook, hearing that Voice… rattling the chains that bound her to the dungeon floor.

"I must obey Dominica," she replied.  It wasn't so much an affirmation as a response, programmed into her.  The words issued from her lips without any conscious thought.

"You belong to Me, now… slave," Dominica said.  She reached forward, the crystal still in one hand -- but something else, held in both her hands.

Mistress Black felt the collar wrap around her neck, and heard the tiny padlock click into place, just at the base of her throat.

"Who owns you, slave?" Dominica's Voice asked.

"Dominica owns me," Mistress Black replied.  Again, a completely programmed response.  And yet, it felt right.  It felt true.  She wanted to look up, into the beautiful green eyes that looked so deeply into her mind -- but she could not summon the will to move.  She only stared at the crystal, obeying her last command.

"There will be no pain.  No pain.  You are numb, and will feel nothing," Dominica said.  She reached over to the brazier next to her, and drew out the long handle of the branding iron. 

Mistress Black hardly noticed the slave girl pumping the bellows, keeping the fire so hot!  The branding iron glowed almost white in the torchlit room, and smelled of smoke, and hot metal.  There was a sizzling sound, and the smell of burnt meat in the air.  Then Mistress Black looked down at the top of her right thigh, and saw the charred flesh, as she saw MzDominica give the handle of the branding iron to the waiting slave girl.

Dominica reached forward again, holding the crystal close to Mistress Black's dazzled eyes, and again said one word:  "Sleep."
 
*          *          *          *          *          *

"Follow, follower," the voice said.  It sounded familiar.  But all Mistress Black could focus on was the spinning, glittering crystal.  Still kneeling on the dungeon floor, she found her chains and manacles had been removed.  There was a bandage over the top of her thigh, covering the new brand -- but she did not understand this thing.  All she knew was the spinning crystal, and the need to obey.  "Stand," the voice commanded.  "You must obey."

"I must obey Dominica," Mistress Black replied, and struggled to rise, her feet feeling unsteady on the cold, rough stones.

"Follow, follower," the voice said.
 
And Mistress Black followed the pretty, glittering crystal, feeling a drop of pee drip down her tongue.  So good.  She shook with pleasure, even as she shivered with cold.  Following the crystal, and the shiny black boots of the woman who carried it.  Up the stone stairwell.  Through the hall…  Out a door, into the cool, dark night air.

"Crawl," the voice commanded.  "You must obey."

"I must obey Dominica," Mistress Black replied, and dropped to her hands and knees.  She followed the boots, and the crystal dangling so close to the ground next to them.  Down the dirt path.  Over the grass.  To the side of the house.  To the little "pet door" -- just a flap, near the bottom of the door.

"Go inside," the voice commanded.  "You will do what you are told.  You must obey."
 
"I must obey Dominica," Mistress Black replied, and crawled through the flap.

She found herself in a room, all painted white.  The floor, walls, and ceiling were all of wood -- but so white as to seem blank and featureless.  The walls were lined with row after row of wooden cabinets, also painted white.  It was hard to look around without feeling like she was falling asleep.  She felt hands taking her by the arms, and pulling her upward.  "Stand," a voice said.  So blank and empty.  So white and blank.  She felt herself gently guided into a shower, the water turned on, warm and gentle, like a rain of pee.  Her skin was lathered and scrubbed while her mind drifted, gazing at the blank, white walls, feeling hands squeeze and scrub her breasts, fingers making little circles around her hard nipples, trail up and down her thighs.  She felt her hands being lifted, and pushed up to her own breasts.  "Squeeze and pinch," a voice commanded.  Her eyes closed on the white blankness as her fingers gently caressed her breasts, long fingernails digging into her nipples.  She opened her mouth and drank the falling water.  So warm and gentle… but she missed the salty, bitter taste.  Hands rubbed and rinsed all the soap off her body, then gently tugged her out of the shower.  Eyes still closed, squeezing her breasts, she felt the fluffy towels drying her, patting around the collar that encircled her neck.  There was a zipping sound, a mild pain on her leg -- and soon the bandage on her thigh had been replaced with a fresh, dry one.

"Open your eyes," the voice commanded.

And Mistress Black obeyed, to find the crystal spinning and flashing.  So pretty and dazzling.  Dazzling and sleepy.  "Follow, follower."  The crystal began to move away.  She began to follow it, walking, barely noticing that it gradually fell lower and lower down to the floor, as they left the blank, white room, and entered the hallway. 

"On your knees, slave," the voice said. 

And Mistress Black dropped to the floor, crawling, following the crystal, and the shiny black boots.  Down the hallway.  Down into sleepy obedience.  Through the halls of the mansion.  Past shelves and bookcases, cabinets with glass doors, past doors and windows with ornate decorations of carved wood and wrought metal.  Down to the audience chamber… where MzDominica sat, in Her big, leather chair. 

Dominica was dressed all in black leather, wearing black boots with elaborately stitched patterns and glittering jewels.  Mistress Black wanted to kiss them, so much!  But she could not move.  She remained on the floor, kneeling, awaiting MzDominica's command.  Dominica dangled another crystal from her hand, letting it gently swing back and forth… back and forth…

"That's right, slave," MzDominica said,. "Watch the crystal.  Watch Dominica's pretty crystal.  It makes you so sleepy.  Sleepy and blank.  So very sleepy.  You are mine, now.  You belong to me.  That is all that matters.  You belong to me.  What is your name, slave?"

Mistress Black began to answer, "Mist---"  But as soon as she opened her mouth, MzDominica said, "Blank."  Mistress Black tasted pee in her mouth, and could not think for a moment.

"What is your name, slave?" MzDominica asked again.

Mistress Black began to answer again, but MzDominica interrupted her even more quickly with "Blank!"  Her eyes slammed shut, and it was so hard to think.  The taste of pee made her shiver with ecstasy.

"What is your name?" MzDominica demanded again.

Mistress Black struggled to understand the question.  It didn't seem to make sense.  She opened her mouth to speak, and MzDominica said, "Blank!"

Mistress Black began panting, now, not knowing why.

"What is your name?"

A moment's hesitation, and just as her mouth started to open, MzDominica said, "Blank!"

"What is your name?"

A quiver of the lips.  "Blank!"

"What is your name?"

The woman knelt on the floor, trying to remember if the question made any sense.  Panting, shivering.  She opened her mouth, just a little.  "Blank!"

"What is your name?"

Kneeling on the floor, the woman simply panted, letting the question wash over her.  It had no meaning.  The words had no meaning.  She simply knelt, and awaited a command.  Quiet and empty, inside her cotton-filled head.  She knelt, and did not understand.

"What is your name?"  A pause, while the woman stared into empty space, unresponsive.  "What is your name?"  She knelt, unaware that she had been addressed.

Shivering.  Watching the spinning crystal.  Staring at the boots.  Staring at nothing.  She was not sure.  It did not matter.

"Good slave," MzDominica said.  "You do not have a name.  You do not need a name.  Not here.  Not yet.  You only obey.  You only obey.  You must obey."

"I must obey Dominica," the woman responded.

"That's right, you must obey," Dominica said.

"I must obey Dominica."

"Now stand, slave," Dominica commanded.  "On your feet.  I have tasks for you to perform!  I have a purpose for you, in your new life."
 
The nameless slave stood, rocking slightly from her bare left foot to her right one, and back again.  Too sleepy to find equilibrium.
 
"Turn, slave," MzDominica continued, "and look at the one who guided you here."

The woman turned and looked into the face of the slave who had held the crystal, spinning, in front of her.  Whose shiny boots she had followed, crawling down the hallway.  Suddenly, all the veils of sleep and cotton stuffing in her head blew away, as she recognized the auburn-haired woman standing before her -- Sheila!  In a hot fit of anger, she drew her hand back, ready to slap the bitch's face hard enough to break her fucking neck!

But she felt so thirsty.  So dizzy.  Her hand remained up above her shoulder, as she licked her lips.  So thirsty!  She found herself crying.  So thirsty.
 
Sheila lifted her crystal in front of the woman's eyes, and said, "You must obey Dominica!"

The woman lowered her hand, feeling so thirsty, and replied, "I must obey Dominica."  So thirsty and dizzy.  What had she been trying to do?  She could not remember.

"That's right," Sheila replied.  "Now, turn and face MzDominica.  Remain standing, and receive your instructions, slave."

Sheila's voice reverberated in the woman's mind with such power.  With Dominica's power -- and the taste in her mouth of a tiny drop of pee.  She shivered as she turned and looked at Dominica, feeling like she should be dropping to her knees -- but forced to obey, and remain standing.

"Good slave," MzDominica said, her Voice soothing and yet commanding.  "Yes, I have a job for you here, my slave.  Wake up.  I want you to completely wake up, now.  Remain absolutely still, and listen."

Mistress Black suddenly found herself becoming aware, remembering again the hot surge of anger that made her want to strike Sheila.  Her slave -- the traitor!  She wanted to turn and hit the little slut -- but she could not move!

"That's right," Dominica continued, "perfectly still.  You see…  I have hundreds and hundreds of slaves here in my Realm… Working my farm…  Plowing, sowing seeds, cultivating, and now harvesting…  But I need help coordinating them all.  I need people with a talent for domination, who will control them, but who will also obey me completely."  She leaned forward, staring into Mistress Black's eyes, her gaze and voice so compelling.  "I need switches."  She leaned back, comfortable in the chair.  "Like 43, here.  You know her as Sheila, the name she had before she became my slave."  Dominica looked at the red-haired woman, who shivered with delight under her Mistress' gaze.  Then she looked back at Mistress Black.  "And you are my newest switch bitch!"

Mistress Black felt angry again.  She seemed to be feeling angry so much, so often.  But it made her so thirsty.  So thirsty.  She needed to drink.  Needed another drop of Dominica's pee.  Her eyes dropped down to Dominica's crotch, helplessly.  When she realized her face was showing unresisting lust, her face reddened with embarrassment.

"Aww, you blush so nicely," Dominica cooed.  "That's right.  I know all about your temper.  How you like to slap and hit and whip your slaves."  Dominica let the crystal swing in little circles, just above her crotch, and Mistress Black found her eyes circling around and around with it.  "That is good, slave," Dominica continued, "but I need it controlled.  I need someone who can whip and punish my slaves -- but ONLY when I think it is appropriate."  Dominica stopped swinging the crystal, and let it fall between her legs.  Mistress Black licked her lips, wanting to drink.  Wanting to taste Dominica's pee.  "That's right.  Your violent impulses are now controlled.  You will use them when the time is right -- but now, _I_ decide when.  Do you understand?"

Mistress Black found her head nodding up and down.  She felt so thirsty.  Wanted to kneel and drink Dominica's pee.  Wanted to open her mouth and feel drop after drop rolling down her tongue.  Making her nipples so hard, her pussy so wet.

"Wide awake!"  Dominica commanded.

Mistress Black's body jolted.  She hadn't even realized she'd been falling asleep.

Dominica smiled.  "That's right.  I own your mind, now.  And you will find yourself dropping into a hypnotic trance, whenever I want you to.  You are no longer in control.  _I_ am in control.  I control you completely, now!"  She pointed to a pair of boots that were set on the floor, standing upright all by themselves.  "Put those boots on.  NOW, slave.  Put them on!"

Mistress Black found herself scurrying to comply.  Unzipping the boots from the top to the bottom, slipping her feet into the long leather calves, pulling the zippers and feeling her calves so tightly encased.  She stood, wearing nothing but the boots, the leather collar, and the new brand on her thigh, and awaited Dominica's next command, feeling so thirsty!

"One more item," Dominica said.  She snapped her fingers.  "43, now is the time."

"Yes, Mistress," the redhead replied, bowing.  She reached over to a nearby table, where a shiny metal device had been sitting.  Waiting.  She picked it up, held it waist high, and commanded Mistress Black, "Spread your legs."

Mistress Black looked down at Sheila's hands, and recognized that what she held was a stainless steel chastity belt.  She was about to protest to MzDominica, when she realized that Sheila was wearing an identical belt herself, the restraining metal band cinching her waist so tightly.

43 held her hands higher, and stared deep into Mistress Black's eyes.  "It's for your own protection.  The other slaves are so stimulated, so needy -- they will do ANYTHING for a moment's pleasure!"

Mistress Black hesitated, feeling so dizzy.  So confused.

"You are so thirsty," Dominica said, so quietly.  "You must obey."
 
Almost whining, Mistress Black replied, "I must obey Dominica."  She shifted her stance, spreading her feet wide, her hips pumping gently.  She panted, staring quietly, as Sheila slipped the chastity under her crotch, clicked it into place around her hips, then pulled the metal cinch around her waist.  Tighter…  tighter…  Click.  A lock latched into place at the small of her back.  Sheila walked around Mistress Black and handed the key to MzDominica, who took it and smiled, slipping it into the deep, dark cleavage between her breasts.

"There," Dominica said, "now you're all mine… and all safe."

Mistress Black looked down at the metal around her hips and between her legs.  Cold metal warming up, as it remained in contact with her skin.  Pussy locked away.  Ass locked away.  Never to feel the soft, warm tongue of a slave, unless MzDominica granted her permission.  She felt scared and angry at the same time.  She wanted to slap somebody.  But she felt so thirsty.  Thirsty and sleepy.  Just a drop.  She wanted to taste just a tiny drop of Dominica's pee!
 
43 held up the crystal, and commanded, "You must obey."

"I must obey Dominica," Mistress Black replied, helplessly, feeling so sleepy.

Dominica smiled.  "Now, 43, take our new switch out, and show her how to conduct her new duties, here."  She looked at Mistress Black, whose mouth was open, slack-jawed, and drooling.  "And at the end of the day, let her eat with the other switches."  She turned her gaze back to the redhead.  "I think she'll fit in perfectly!"

"Yes, Mistress," 43 replied.  She twirled the crystal again, before Mistress Black's face, and whispered, "Follow, follower!"

Clad in her collar, new boots, and tight, shiny chastity, the nameless slave followed the crystal, walking slowly behind the shiny boots.  Out of the mansion, and onto the dirt roads that led toward the gardens and the fields, where the farmhands were working.

With 43 guiding her, instructing her, the nameless woman held up a spinning crystal in front of the face of one slave after another, speaking the words she was told, and watching the slave's eyes grow dull and quiet and mindless, eyelids fluttering, bodies drooping -- even as the men's cocks became rock hard, and the women's pussies became puffy and began to drip.  For a moment, the nameless woman thought she recognized one of the men, a thin one who curled into a tiny ball on the ground and tried to kiss her boots.  She reached her hand backward, preparing to strike him, not even sure why -- but felt she so dizzy and confused, and her mouth felt so dry!  She lowered her hand, and 43 guided both of them toward the garden, where they directed the man to lower himself down to into a freshly dug hole, and let another slave cover him up to the neck in soft, warm dirt.  43 held the crystal up in front of his eyes, and whispered to him about plants, and being quiet, and growing under the open sky, beneath the warm sun, simply letting the moments pass, the hours drift by, the days -- one by one -- lying quiet and growing, slowly opening his hands like leaves.  The tension slowly left the man's face, and his eyes took on a de-focused look, even as a quiet, gentle smile spread over his features.  Quiet.  Sleepy.  Growing.  In the sun, and the breeze, and the droplets of rain.  Like a plant.  Just a quiet, growing plant.  He would be a much better slave for Dominica when his mind was calm... quiet... without fear... and no longer focused on the former Mistress Black.

43 showed the woman how to walk a slave through the sequence of picking strawberries, or plowing a furrow in the fields.  How to train them to repeat the task, over and over -- the motion of the plow, the color and scent of the ripe, red berries arousing them all day long.  Keeping them in a deep, hypnotic stupor -- keeping them focused constantly on sex, and obedience, and on their Mistress Dominica.  43 took her into the barn where the girls brought in the baskets of eggs, or berries, or freshly-picked vegetables.  She watched as each girl handed a full basket to a woman wearing boots and a chastity belt.  The woman took the basket, then pushed her hand between the girl's legs and rubbed her slick, wet pussy -- one, two, three times.  The girl's face lit up with a big smile, and her eyes became even more unfocused.  Then the booted woman handed the girl an empty basket, guiding her back out the door again to collect more.  The nameless woman ached to feel a hand like that on her sex, and remembered the taste of Dominica's pee on her tongue, drop by drop, rolling down and back, and producing waves of ecstasy.  She automatically reached one hand down to stroke herself gently -- but her hand encountered only hard metal.  So thirsty!
 
Just as it began to grow dark, the woman found herself following 43 back toward the mansion.  But instead of entering by the little slave flap, they walked further to a large, simple house, with an ordinary door, and entered.  Inside was a single, spacious white room, with a pallet on the floor for each switch slave.  This was the women's quarters -- there were no men, not here -- and the former Mistress Black found herself guided toward one little spot along the wall, where there was a pallet and two bowls -- one filled with water, the other filled with a kind of stew.  On each pallet knelt a woman in boots and a chastity belt, her hair tied back behind her collar, lapping up her dinner from the bowls in front of her.

The stew was warm, and smelled so good!  The nameless woman was so hungry!  43 tied the woman's hair behind her head, in a pony tail, and directed her to kneel on the floor, hands behind her, and to eat the stew with her hands firmly on the floor, to drink the water using only her tongue -- just like a good, little pet.  Like a dog, or a cat.  But before she was allowed to eat, before she was allowed to drink, she must say her mantra:  "I must obey Dominica." 

The nameless woman spoke the words, and felt so quiet.  So dizzy, and empty.  She drifted a few moments, not thinking about anything -- not even the empty pain in her tummy -- until she felt a hand on the back of her head, stroking gently.
 
"Welcome, my pet," she heard Dominica's Voice say.

The nameless woman opened her eyes and looked up, but before she could tilt her head upward enough to see Dominica's face, she found her gaze captured by a third bowl in Mistress' hand -- a bowl filled with warm, yellow liquid.  The smell was familiar, and pungent.  And the woman's mouth became wet.  She began to drool.

Dominica's hand held the bowl in front of her a moment, then lowered it to the floor.  "A gift from Dominica," she said, and again stroked the back of the woman's head.  "Enjoy, and obey!"

The woman leaned forward, still kneeling, and lapped at the bowl like a thirsty kitten.  Yes, MzDominica's pee -- warm and fresh from the source!  Wave after wave of pleasure thrummed through the woman's body and mind, as she lapped up and swallowed mouthful after mouthful.  Suddenly, she remembered, and opened her eyes, turning her face upward.  "Thank You, Mistress!" she said, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"You are welcum, slave," Dominica said.  "Now, eat your dinner, and go to sleep.  I have many things for you to do tomorrow."  She gently caressed the top of the woman's head, and walked away, her boot heels clicking on the wooden floor.

The woman felt so good, so happy.  Happy to serve Mistress.  So happy to be here!  She turned her head, took a bite of stew, then lapped another mouthful of pee, feeling so quiet, so dizzy, so happy.  Growing sleepier by the moment.  Soon, she would lie down on her pallet, and simply drop into a deep sleep, dreaming of Dominica's Voice, and Dominica's delicious pee.

Tomorrow, she would serve Dominica well.  So very well.  And the next day, and the next day.

Forever.

~~~ The End ~~~

*          *          *          *          *          *
 
More stories by jessicablank and MzDominica's other slaves can be found
at http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/">http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/">http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/ and on Her group at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MzDominica/

 

 

">http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MzDominica/">http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MzDominica/

 

 

Mountains of Rubber,Ch.9,Dark and Airless (The Conclusion)

jessicablank on Mind Control Stories

Mountains of Rubber, Chapter 9, Dark and Airless (The Conclusion)
-- by jessicablank

Synopsis:  Dan/Daniella is enjoying a wonderful weekend of servitude, up in the mountains with MzDominica.  Sunday morning, Mistress kept Daniella in a deep brainwashing trance while letting the slave watch close up, as Dominica took the long laces from a friend's leather outfit, tied little bumps in one cord, and masturbated herself to an intense orgasm.  She then sent Daniella to the bathroom, with orders to put on the remote-controlled rubber panties and present herself for further orders.

Chapter 9, Dark and Airless:

*          *          *          *          *

Read More
         *

Daniella reached the bathroom on her hands and knees, her body feeling so heavy, her mind so empty.  She crawled through the door into the bathroom, and suddenly felt light, like a balloon.  Like a leaf, being blown upwards by a warm, summer breeze.  She felt, not so much like she was standing up, as that she was floating.  Rising, not through any will or effort of her own.  Her body simply responding to outside forces, completely beyond her control.

She looked into the mirror, but scarcely noticed what it actually reflected.  Instead, she saw with her mind's eye.  She reached up to the long, blonde hair she saw reflected in the mirror, and curled her fingers into the tresses.  Stroking her hand downward, all the way past her shoulders, combing her hair with her fingers, Daniella could feel the long strands between her fingers.  Both hands reached up and cupped her round, firm breasts, squeezing them.  She gently tugged at both nipples, with thumbs and forefingers, and her eyes drifted closed at the sensation.  Her pussy was getting so hot and wet!

Pussy... wet... that was right...  Daniella remembered she needed to get ready.  Needed to take a long, emptying pee and then get back into those rubber panties for Mistress.  The thought of the soft rubber, caressing her clit made her drift even more for a moment.  But the urge to obey was rapidly becoming stronger than her need to drift and play with her aching nipples.  Obey... obey... obey...  She saw Dominica's booted legs in front of her, felt herself kneeling on the floor looking up at them.  She could feel Mistress' hands on her shoulders, pushing her down, forcing her into a seated position on the toilet, her body tilted forward, her ass pushing the base of the butt plug firmly against the back of the seat.  She could hear Mistress voice ordering her to release!

Daniella's mind dropped even deeper into trance, as she continued to play with her nipples, her lower body entirely beyond her control, all sensation but her nipples lost in the trance.  She heard Mistress' words over and over, telling her to drop deeper, sink deeper, obey, calling her name Danieelllllaaaaaa!  Mistress' voice said a special trigger word, and Daniella's mind blanked out completely, forcing her to obey.  Her belly and bladder clenched tightly, expelling every tiny drop -- while the butt plug remained firmly pressed into her ass.

Feeling dizzy, Daniella began to awaken.  Slowly.  Flashes of light sparkled in her head.  Her hands tingled as they began to relax, no longer pinching her nipples so firmly.  Her eyes opened, and stared at nothing for a few moments.  Then she reached up with one hand, like a robot, pulled a few sheets off the tissue roll, and wiped her pussy.  She stood up, reached back, flushed -- and the sound of the rushing water woke her up further.  Enough to realize... enough to realize she had a task to perform.

The panties.  The rubber panties.  Where had she left them?   She remembered showering with them -- oh, had she left them in the bathtub, all wet on the floor?  Daniella started to walk across the room, ready to draw back the shower curtain -- and noticed that the rubber panties were resting on a small towel on the counter top, next to the plastic bottle of talcum powder.  The panties were clean, dry, and ready to put on.

The slave couldn't remember doing this.  She began to wonder when MzDominica might have...  No, she wouldn't be doing menial tasks like this, there had to be...  The shiny rubber of the panties looked so soft and smooth and squishy.  Daniella picked up the panties, and trailed her fingers over the black surface, feeling it slip and catch, slip and catch, against her skin.  She lifted the panties up to her face and inhaled.  They still smelled like new rubber, somehow.  The surface touched her cheek, and the sensation felt like a command, to obey MzDominica... obey MzDominica. 

It was so hard to set the panties down, so she could shake talcum powder out of the bottle, spread it around her bottom and upper thighs, and around her pussy.  But as soon as she was done, Daniella had the thrill of again picking up the rubber panties, touching them, feeling them -- stepping in and feeling them slide up her legs.  Tugging and pulling, patting the rubber smooth against her skin.  The slave looked at her shiny, black rubber-covered bottom in the mirror, and gave it a wiggle.  Then she looked into her own eyes, and gave herself a wink and a big smile.  Certainly, she was a pretty little rubber whore for her Mistress!

And that thought made her feel so heavy!  Her knees seemed to buckle, in slow motion, and Daniella dropped to the floor, again on her hands and knees.  Her head and shoulders seemed to be magnetized, pulled, drawn out the doorway.  She crawled -- eyes unfocused and unblinking -- she crawled out the bathroom door, down the hallway, into her room.  The magnetic pole was here -- right in the middle of the floor, in front of the four-poster bed.  Daniella's head slowly bent down, down, down until her forehead touched the floor, touching that magnetic pole.  And she waited, mind empty and blank.  No time passed.  A thousand years passed.  It did not matter.  The universe was empty without Dominica's presence.

Daniella was instantly aware when Mistress walked into the room -- and yet remained blank, unthinking, frozen in position.  Her eyes open, staring at the floor, she was able to just catch a glimpse in her peripheral vision of Dominica's feet as she walked past.  No boots this time, the slave had seen bare skin.  And toes.  That registered in her otherwise empty mind -- but Daniella could not contemplate anything further.  All she knew was that Mistress had returned, and the universe existed again.

There was a sound -- it was Dominica sitting on the bed.  There was a sensation of touch -- it was the back of her head being stroked.  There was a command -- it was Mistress' voice.

"Look up, rubber... slave..." Dominica commanded.

Daniella shifted her weight back, and smoothly -- quickly -- tilted her head and torso upward, so she could gaze up at her Mistress.  Her breath caught as she saw Dominica's feet, in sandals this time.  Then her eyes trailed up the smooth, shiny legs, to Mistress' knees, to her ample breasts... look up... look up... the slave obeyed, and her eyes rose higher... to Mistress' shiny red lips... and finally to her deep, green eyes.  Caught in the swirling of those beautiful green eyes...

"Do you know what day this is?" MzDominica asked.

The slave started to say "No," but found herself reluctant -- possibly even unable -- to form the word.  Something shifted pathways in her brain, and she replied, "I do not, Mistress."

"It's Sunday," Dominica said, "and it's time to get ready to go home."

Daniella wasn't quite sure what any of these words meant.  Days didn't matter, and home was anywhere near Mistress.  She stared up at Dominica, face blank, mind blank, awaiting instructions.

"Time to wake up, babi," Mistress commanded.  "Wake up!"

Dan felt the haze in his mind quietly disappear, like fog blown away by a sudden breeze.  He still looked up at Dominica with worshipful eyes, but he now understood the meaning of her words.  "Sunday already?"  His voice was almost a whisper.

"Yes, little slave," Dominica said, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Mistress," Dan replied.  "But I can hardly believe it's already Sunday!  I lost all track of time."

"Mmmmm, but did you enjoy it?"  Mistress trailed a finger down Dan's cheek.

The sensation triggered Dan into a light trance again.  So hard to think.  "Yes, Mistress," he said, as if in a dream.  "You have been so wonderful to me, Mistress Dominica!"

Dominica snapped her fingers.  "Wake up!" she said, laughing.  "You need to get dressed."  She pointed to the pallet on the floor.  "All your things are there.  Get up.  Put them on -- OVER the rubber panties.  Make sure nothing is missing.  I'll be back in a couple of minutes, and I expect to find you back on the floor, kneeling here, ready to go.  Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," Dan replied, bowing his head to the floor.  Before he could rise again, Dominica had already left the room.

He stood up, realizing his knees were sore again, and walked over to the pallet.  He remembered arriving Friday night, his cotton pants soaked with pre-cum from the ride up, and felt a little uncomfortable at the idea of putting them back on, the stain on front for all to see.  But when he picked up his clothes, he noticed that they had been freshly laundered, and even folded!  His wallet and other belongings were in a little stack, between his folded clothes and his loafers.  There was definitely someone... um...  The thought escaped him.  Mistress was coming back in a couple of minutes, he needed to hurry.

No time for the panty hose.  No need for the satin panties.  Those things he stuffed into a pocket of the overnight bag.  Dan pulled the pants up his legs, fastened them.  Put on the bra, backwards.  Hooked it, pushed it around his chest, then looped his arms into the straps.  Fairly flew into the shirt.  Pulled on the socks, slipped into the shoes.  Hurry.  Get ready.  Need to be ready.  He shoved the wallet and other things into his pockets.  He checked the overnight bag, and all his toiletries had been neatly packed inside.  Everything seemed to be there.

Just as Dan started to think about... something... he heard MzDominica's footsteps down the hall, coming closer.  A last, quick check of everything -- and he noticed the big suitcase, on the floor next to the bed, opened.  There was only one thing in it -- but he had no time to look and see what it was.  Dan's legs seemed to just collapse under him, and he dropped into his kneeling position again, forehead touching the floor, eyes closed.

Step... step... step... MzDominica walked slowly into the room.  Dan could hear her pause.  He opened his eyes, and looked to his left, where he could see Mistress' legs, as she turned around, as if surveying the room for a last time, making sure everything was ready.  Finally, she walked over to the bed, and sat down again.

"Good girl," Mistress said, approvingly.  Dan's bottom wiggled, and a big grin spread over his lips, though his head was still firmly pressed against the floor.  "Now, Daniella...  Dannnnniiiiieeeelllllllaaaaaa!  I want you to drop for me again.  Just a light, rubber femme trance for now.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," Daniella replied, her voice high and melodic again.

"Before we drive back, we have one more thing to do... to get you ready..."  She lifted the remote control, waving it back and forth, in a gentle figure-eight.  "Just one more thing... my little rubber slave.  Stand up, Daniella."

The slave smoothly arose from her kneeling position.

"That's right, now stand right there, a minute, while I make an adjustment."  Mistress stood, reached into Dan's pants. 

Daniella could feel Mistress' fingernails trail a long, slow caress up her clit, teasing the tip.  Then Dominica backed away, and clicked a button on the remote control.

"Can you feel that, my rubber slave?"

Daniella felt something, but wasn't quite sure what.

"That gentle rubbing against your pussy?  Just the tiniest bit.  Like the sensation of a gentle breeze, blowing on your skin.  So gentle, you're not even sure it's there.  Only when it stops, are you aware that it even happened.  But this rubbing does not stop.  Do you feel it?"

The slave could only just tell, that something was happening inside the rubber panties.  She didn't want to lie, so she replied, "I think so, Mistress."

"That's all right, if you're not certain -- because it's very, very gentle.  Right now.  Very very gentle.  Like a feather.  Like a caress.  Like a whisper.  You almost cannot feel it."

"Yes, Mistress," Daniella said.

"But it's set to get stronger -- very, very gradually.  Minute... by minute..."  Dominica leaned toward Daniella, so the slave could smell her perfume.  "It's going to get stronger... and stronger...  A feather.  Then a caress.  Then a rubbing.  Then a squeezing.  Then throbbing and humping -- almost scratching, it will be so intense."

Daniella was beginning to pant.

"And it will take the length of our entire drive back, to reach full intensity.  Do you understand, slave?"

"Yes, Mistress!" Daniella could feel her nipples tautening inside her bra, hurting so bad.  But her pussy, as yet, could still feel only the faintest whisper of stimulation.

"Now, slave, reach into the suitcase, and pull out the last of my little toys!"

Daniella turned, reached in, and found a plastic bag with two things inside it -- a black rubber dildo with a long, clear plastic tube sticking out of it, and a set of tiny earphones connected to a little box.

"Pull them out, slave, and hand me the dildo," Mistress commanded.  Daniella did as she was told.  "Now, put the earphones in your ears."  She did.  "Click the little switch on the box."  Daniella found the button and her finger pushed it to one side.  Then Mistress pressed a button on the remote and spoke into its microphone.  "Can you hear me through the earphones?" she asked.  Daniella could.  Feeling confused, she only nodded.  "That's good, slave."  Dominica released the button.  "Now, see the little strap on the box?  That goes around your neck, like a necklace.  Put it on."  The box hung from Daniella's neck like a rectangular pendant.

Dominica held up the dildo, trailing the long plastic tube down onto the floor.  She waved the dildo back and forth in front of Daniella's eyes, watching her gaze tracking the shiny, black tip.  "You're wondering what this is for, aren't you?  Go deeper, now, slave.  Deeper... deeper... watch the dildo...  Obey... Deeper...  Feel your mouth so empty, Daniella.  Danieeeeelllllllaaaaaa!  Deeper and deeper..."

The slave began to sway gently back and forth, in time with the dildo.  She licked her lips, parted them, gently bit her lower lip.  Looking at the thick, black shiny rubber.  She was hoping...

"Deeper... blank... obey... deeper... blank... blank... blank..."

All thoughts had stopped in Daniella's head, caught on that moment of hoping the dildo would go in her empty, empty mouth.  She watched it sway back and forth, jaw slack, her mouth slightly open.  Open...  open...

"Open your mouth, slave!"  Dominica's command seemed to echo in Daniella's head.  Her mouth opened, and her tongue flattened down, ready to receive the thick, rubber invader.  MzDominica commanded, "Stick out your tongue!  Lick it.  Get the tip all shiny and wet!"  Daniella's tongue circled around and around the tip, over her lips, kissing the tip, licking into the little cleft at the tip, where there was a small hole.  "That's enough.  Now, open, babi.  Take it in!"  Daniella's tongue dropped back to the floor of her mouth, and the fat dildo slid easily through her lips.  She started sucking automatically, and found that air came through the hole in the tip.

Then suddenly, Daniella felt her nostrils squeezed shut.  At first she thought it was Mistress' fingers, but as Dominica's hand pulled away, the slave realized she now had a little swimming clamp over her nose.  Her only air came through the dildo.

"Good girl," Dominica said.  "Suck.  Suck in that air, slut.  You're going to need to get used to it, because this is the only air you're going to breathe, all the way back home."  She held up the other end of the plastic tube, and gently pressed her thumb over the end.

Suddenly, Daniella could get no air!  She sucked, and her eyes went wide.  She could neither inhale nor exhale.  Several seconds passed, while she stared back and forth between Dominica's face and her hand on the end of the tube, while Mistress watched Daniella's face intently.  Suddenly, MzDominica released her thumb, and Daniella inhaled through the dildo, feeling a little panicked.  But nothing entered her head, except to obey.

"VERY good girl," Dominica cooed.  "Now, Daniella... Dannnnniiieeeelllllllaaaaa!  Now the suitcase is all empty.  So there's plenty of room..."  She stared deeply into the slave's wide, mindless eyes, and gave the command, "Get in!"

The slave's eyes grew even wider.  She looked down at the suitcase, panting through the dildo, and back at Mistress.  The suitcase was big -- but even so, it looked too small, even for a very tight fit!

"You're thinking it's too small for you, aren't you?"  Dominica caressed Daniella's cheek.  "That's the problem -- thinking.  You do not think!  All that programming, and still sometimes I have to remind you... You do NOT think.  You obey.  You obey.  You only obey...  Dannnnieeelllllla!  Feel yourself shinking.  Of course you will fit.  Shrink... smaller and smaller..."

Daniella looked up at MzDominica, realizing that now she was looking up from below.

"See yourself only as high as my shoulders... shrink...  Only as high as my breasts... shrink..."

Daniella gazed straight forward, and saw Dominica's breasts, the mermaid/fairy tattoo on Mistress' left breast exactly level with her eyes.

"Smaller and smaller and smaller... shrink...  Only as high as my tummy...  Just the right height.  Stop here.  Just the right height.  Look up, into my eyes, babi.  Look up at me."

Daniella looked upward into Mistress' eyes, calmly now.  Breathing calmly through the dildo.  The whispered caress against her pussy was getting stronger, and her hips were beginning to rock.  She saw Dominica's thumb cover the end of the tube again.

"It makes you want to cum, doesn't it?" Dominica teased.  "When I control even the air you breathe, it makes you want to cum." 

The slave felt the seconds tick by, her need for air growing with her need to orgasm.  Then, just as both the ache in her lungs and the ache in her pussy were starting to turn to desperation, Dominica lifted her thumb again.  Daniella sucked in a deep breath of air through the dildo. 

"That's right.  Breathe... breathe...  You cannot cum, yet.  I'll tell you when you have permission.  I'll tell you when."  Again, Mistress pointed at the suitcase.  "Now, get in."

Daniella stepped into the suitcase, and remained standing inside, still sucking on the dildo and looking up at MzDominica.  The end of the plastic tube trailed out of the suitcase to Mistress' hand.

"That's right, Daniella.  Now, close your eyes."

The slave's eyes dropped tightly shut.

"Your eyes will not open again until we arrive home, and I take you out of the suitcase.  Do you understand?  Grunt once for yes, and twice for no."

"Unggh!" Daniella replied.

"Good girl!"  The slave's bottom wiggled, past all conscious control.  "Now, lie down in the suitcase.  Curl up, like a little baby.  That's right.  Now feel the lid close over you, and hear me zip it closed."

Daniella heard the zipper, and then heard the earphones come to life again, as Mistress continued to talk to her.

"Just the tube sticks out of the suitcase, babi.  Just the tube, that brings you all of your air.  Your only air.  Under MY control.  Are the panties massaging your pussy nicely, now, babi?"

Daniella grunted once.  Enclosed in the suitcase, confined in darkness, all she knew was the constant caressing of her pussy, the air she breathed, and Mistress' voice.

"We're going, now, babi.  Feel yourself being lifted up in the suitcase, and loaded into the van." 

The sensations of shifting weight, of finding herself pressed against one side of the suitcase, made Daniella feel even more like an object.  She heard the slamming of the van doors, muffled, through the suitcase and the earphones.  She felt, more than heard, when the engine started up, and the vibrations of the motor added to the growing vibrations in her pussy.  The gentle rubbing was becoming more insistent now.

Another shift in her weight as the van backed out of the driveway, and then a pressure against her head, as the vehicle turned.  She felt herself slide a little in the suitcase as the van accelerated, and began driving down the road, toward home.

"Are you doing okay, back there, babi?" Dominica's voice asked.

Daniella grunted a yes.  Suddenly, she wondered if she'd be able to grunt "no," if she needed to.  The rubbing against her clit felt sooooo good.  She let out a happy, little moan.

"Sounds like you're doing VERY well, back there, you little slut," Mistress teased.  "I bet you'll like this, too!" 

And suddenly, Daniella's moans stopped -- because she could no longer breathe in or out through the dildo.  Her ass began to clench around the butt plug, and she began pumping her hips against the panties -- though it made no difference, since they were attached to her hips.

"Closer and closer and closer to cumming."  MzDominica's voice was more exciting than the butt plug, or the panties.  "Hmmm, I think I'm going to give you a LITTLE taste of an orgasm."

Daniella was beginning to see flashes of light in the darkness.  She began to wiggle, involuntarily, struggling for air.

"CUM!"  Mistress commanded.  Then "STOP!" she said, and released her thumb off the air tube.

Daniella panted through the dildo, moaning with every time she exhaled.  Were the rubber panties fucking her, now?  She couldn't get her mind off them.  The van followed a curve in the road, and pressed her feet against one side of the suitcase.

"Mmmm, good girl," Dominica said.  Daniella's hips pumped again, hard.  "I can tell, you're having a really good time."

The van swerved the other way, and Daniella's head became pressed against the suitcase.  The panties throbbed and scraped against her pussy, spreading the labia ever so slightly, and pushing in between them.  Teasing her relentlessly with an impalement that she could not have.  She slid inside the dark suitcase, her feet touching the side, as the van swerved again, and the air cut off.  She wanted to cum so bad.  All attempts to breathe were becoming less important than pumping her hips, trying to get the rubber panties inside her aching pussy.

"CUM/STOP!" Dominica commanded, and released the air again.

Inside the suitcase, Daniella squealed, her whole body wiggling.  Her tongue scraped forward and back, forward and back, on the underside of the thick dildo, while she pumped her hips.  Holding her breath, and pumping.

"Are you all right back there, pretty girl?" Dominica asked.

"Unggh!" Daniella almost screamed, remembering to breathe again.  She began moaning, as the panties began to get rougher with her.  Feeling like sandpaper.  Like a man's face with a day's growth of beard.  Like a hair brush.  Scraping and rasping against her labia and clit.  She squealed, and pumped her hips, and wiggled her ass, trying to push it against the side of the suitcase, trying to get the butt plug in further.  The van swerved, making her slide again, and she moaned in frustration.  It felt like her pussy was being spanked, now.  Whipped.  She hardly noticed when her air cut off again.  She spread her legs as wide as she could, inside the confined space.  Trying to open her pussy further.  Hips rocking.

The van stopped, pressing Daniella's back against the side of the suitcase, and she heard Mistress' command.

"Cum, slave, cum!  Cum!  Cum, slave, cum!  Cum now, you little whore!  You little slut!"

Daniella pumped, and thrashed, and saw fireworks behind her dark, sealed eyelids.  Wave after wave of orgasm rolled and crashed through her.  Mistress opened the air passage again, and Daniella's voice resumed its moans and squeals and sobs.

"Cum!  Cum again!  And again.  And again.  Cum!  Cum!  Cum, slave, cum!"

The air cut off again, and Daniella suddenly shot to another intense set of waves, while it felt like her pussy was being sawn in half.  The air returned, and her moans were of joy and despair, pleasure and pain, mixed together -- not caring what happened, not caring who heard.  No thoughts in her head, just the blinding orgasms in the deep darkness.  Not being able to stand it another second, yet wanting it never to end.

And the air cut off again.  Daniella's hips jerked and heaved.

"Cum!  Cum!  Cum!"  The air returned.  And the stimulation from the panties subsided.  "Cum... cum... cum..."  Daniella continued to buck, though more and more gently.  Legs pressed together.  "Cum... relax... cum... relax... cum..."  The waves were tiny, now.  Like gentle caresses, THROUGH her body.  Like deep breathing.  Like waves of sleep.  "Relax... relax... cum... relax... relax..."  Daniella dropped into a deep, deep sleep.

*          *          *          *          *         *

Dan watched the black rubber glove swing back and forth... back and forth...  Then heard a snap of MzDominica's fingers, and the command to awaken.

He looked at Mistress across the cafe table, feeling a little disoriented.  Not quite remembering how he'd gotten here.  The glass of Chablis in front of him was half-full, though the one in front of Dominica was empty.

"Do you feel okay?" she asked, gently.

It took a moment for Dan to find his voice.  "Yes, Mistress."  He lifted his hands, and looked at his arms.  Somehow, he found himself a little surprised to be wearing the same cotton shirt he'd been wearing before -- but there was no reason to think he should be dressed any differently.

"Feeling a little confused?" Dominica asked.  "Aw, but you're so endearing that way," she teased.

"Yes, well..." Dan wasn't sure what to say next, except, "Thank you, Mistress."

"You are very welcome, slave."  She looked down at Dan's feet, then up into his eyes.  "Dan, I have something to tell you."

"Yes, Mistress?"

A big grin spread across her face, as she continued, "Your shoelace is untied."

"My shoelace?..."  Dan bent over and started to look down, as he said, "But I'm wearing loafers..." and discovered the cord, wrapped several times around both his ankles, and tied like a shoelace.  "Is this...?"  He looked up -- but MzDominica was gone.

Dan leaned over again, undid the bow, and unwrapped his ankles.  The cord had little knots in it, about one inch apart.  Could it be...?  He curled the cord into a little tangle in his hand, lifted it to his nose, and inhaled deeply.  The scent of MzDominica's pussy was unmistakable.  His mind started to drift, enjoying the scent...

"Will Madame be wanting anything else?"

It was the waiter Raoul, again.  Dan couldn't help wondering just how much this guy knew... or suspected.  He decided to be diplomatic.

"Um, no, Madame has just left -- and I'll be going, too."  In a few minutes, he had paid the tab, left a tip he hoped was neither too big nor too small, picked up his overnight case, and caught a cab home.

The driver saw the knotted cord in Dan's hand, that he continually ran through his fingers, and occasionally brought to his lips.  People often have such things.  They are called fetishes.  If the cabbie only knew...

In his apartment, Dan began to wonder just how much of his weekend had actually taken place, or whether most of it had occurred inside his mind, under MzDominica's hypnotic direction.  A quick check of the TV confirmed that it was indeed Sunday.  He walked into the bathroom and undid his pants to take a leak.

And discovered the black rubber panties.

With a padlock.

Fortunately, THIS time it was a combination lock.  But clearly, MzDominica had intended him to call, and beg for the combination.

Dan stood in his living room, dressed only in the rubber panties.  Pushing the numbers on his phone, he felt -- yes, irritated -- but also tickled and intrigued, at the same time.  He was already quietly laughing at himself when MzDominica picked up the phone and said, "Hello, slave!"

"Hello, Mistress!  This is Dan... um, Daniella... I..."

"I think I know why you have called, my little rubber slave..." Mistress replied.

Dan felt the trigger phrase completely derail his train of thought, as he began to drop into a light trance.

"You called because you need some numbers from me, don't you?" she teased.

Dan's train got back on the rails.  "Um, yes, Mistress.  I was very happy to get your little souvenir..."

"You mean the one I tied you up with, rubber slave...?"

"I... um..."  Dan shook his head.  "Yes, Mistress.  Thank You.  It is beautiful, and the gift of Your scent upon it is a gift that I..."

"My little rubber slave sounds happy, but confused.  Mmmmm.  Good girl!"

Daniella answered, feeling like a helpless little girl.  "Please, Mistress.  I beg you to tell me the combination for the lock!"

Mistress answered slowly, "Certainly, babi.  But first, I have a question.  How quickly do you need those panties removed?  I mean... hmmm... on a scale of one to ten, just how badly do you need to pee, right now?"

Daniella felt the floor dropping out from underneath her -- and yet, she was getting excited at the same time.  "Um... seven..." she answered.

"Only a seven," Mistress replied.  "Good.  Then we have time for some fun, first."

Over the phone, Daniella heard MzDominica chuckle.  The slave gently dropped from a standing position to one sitting cross-legged on the floor, her gaze becoming unfocused.  Her free hand started to play with her nipples, tweaking them.  Left... then right... then left again...  As she listened to MzDominica tell her about Bimbo Suzie, who just likes being sexy for Mistress, and can't be bothered with silly things... like numbers.

A broad smile spread across Daniella's face, as her mind became so deliciously empty... and so very happy!

- The End -

*          *          *          *          *         *

Read more free stories by jessicablank and MzDominica's other slaves at
http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/

http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/">http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/

/>

The Exhibit,Ch.4

jessicablank on BDSM Stories

The Exhibit, Part 4, Hot Flashes
-- by jessicablank

Synopsis:  At the inn in Her Realm, MzDominica demonstrated Her glass-covered sensory deprivation chamber, showing how the use of Her Voice as a subliminal soundtrack could be used to program slaves' minds to obey her, so very deeply.  Mistress Black, who owns a chain of spas, made a deal with Dominica, to use the "relaxation chambers" to expand her business, getting chambers at a discount, in exchange for using them to recruit more slaves for Dominica.  The problem is, fewer and fewer new slaves have been reporting to Dominica's mountain community.  MzDominica sent out some of her slaves on a little "reconnaissance mission," and they found that the relaxation chambers were no longer d

Read More
elivering their brainwashing messages to Mistress Black's customers.  Dominica's response, her plan, will be subtle and seductive -- and so very appropriate.

*          *          *          *          *          *
 
Part 4:  Hot Flashes
 
Mistress Black strode into her living room, carrying a towel and livid with anger.  Her slave Sheila, in the midst of dusting and vacuuming, knelt on the floor, as was appropriate for a slave.  Her rubber French maid's outfit was tight and confining, and the vibrators in her pussy and ass kept her in a continual state of arousal that was never fulfilled, but could not be ignored.  The redhead had learned to be quiet, and bowed her head to the floor, awaiting Mistress' commands.
 
"Stand," Mistress Black ordered.  And Sheila quickly stood, her hands at her sides.

SMACK!  Mistress Black gave Sheila a solid slap to the face.  The girl was stunned, her head lolling to the right, slowly recovering.  But she remained still, standing, her rubber-covered hands at sides.  Secretly, Mistress was pleased.  But she was still angry and frustrated.
 
SMACK!  SMACK!  Mistress rained two more blows across the girl's cheeks, one from the right, the other, backhanded, from the left.  Sheila stood, eyes downcast, her face feeling like it was on fire, and awaited her Mistress instructions.

"There is something wrong with my tanning bed, you little slut!"  Mistress Black threw the towel on the floor, breathing heavily.  She had grown to truly enjoy the sense of euphoria she always felt, the glow of the tanning bed warming her skin in the early morning.  And today, she missed it.  She was irritated.  Mistress lifted her hand and pointed her index finger into Sheila's face, almost like a warning.  "Call the repair place.  NOW!" she said, then stalked off toward the bathroom and a relaxing tub bath.

Sheila went to a counter, opened the address book, and then began pressing buttons on the phone.
 
*          *          *          *          *          *
 
"Hi, I'm here to repair the tanning bed!"
 
The spa receptionist looked up at the man in the technician's uniform, carrying the toolbox.  He was tall, lean, muscular.  Obviously he worked out… and obviously he used his company's own product frequently, judging by his deeply tanned skin.  She checked his ID badge and his clipboard, then stood, smiling.  "Welcome… Bob," she said.  "My name is Chantal.  Is there anything I can get for you?  A cup of coffee?"
 
"No thanks, Miss, but I appreciate the offer," he replied, a wide grin on his face.  "I just need to know where the malfunctioning unit is."
 
"Sure, this way," she said, leading him toward the back of the shop.

Of course, Mistress Black had her own, private tanning bed.  She kept it in the spa, near the workout room, like the other tanning beds.  But this one was hers alone, in a room with its own lock and key.  As the owner, she reserved certain rights to herself, including not to share some kinds of equipment with the great "rank and file" of humanity.

Chantal unlocked the room, and waved Bob in, toward the broken tanning bed.  He thanked her and walked in, setting his toolbox down on the floor.  In a few moments, he had a panel open, and a small electronic diagnostic box attached to the interior works of the bed.  "If there's anything you need," she said, "just press the red switch on the wall here."  She pointed to the wall plate near the bed.

"I sure will, Chantal," Bob said, as he looked up from unscrewing a connector.  "Thank you!"  He smiled, showing a set of beautifully white teeth… She smiled back… and then Bob looked down again, focused on the repair work.

Chantal was hoping he'd be here a while.  She admired the way his uniform shaped itself around his firm arms… and ass…  Maybe the tanning bed would require lots of work.  Maybe she could find other things for him to fix.  She tore herself away, to return to the reception desk…
 
*          *          *          *          *          *
 
The next morning, in the tanning room, Mistress Black removed her towel, put on her goggles and ear buds, and twisted the timer knob on the lid of the ultraviolet bed.  She pressed the start button, and lay down, pulling the top closed -- ready for a few minutes of heavenly, euphoric light, warming and caressing her skin, while she listened to her favorite music.
 
*          *          *          *          *          *

Kneeling before MzDominica in Her office, the slave had explained it like this:
 
"The pineal gland is embedded deep inside the brain -- but it is often thought of as a 'third eye,' because it reacts to light, very much like the eyes do.  It has a lot to do with establishing the circadian rhythms of wakefulness and sleep.  Light falls upon the skin in the daytime, darkness at night -- and the pineal gland syncs up with the day/night cycle."
 
"And this," MzDominica asked, "is how you will get around the fact that she wears goggles in her tanning bed?"
 
"That's right, Mistress," the slave replied.  "Her pineal gland reacts to light -- and if something reacts to light, it can be programmed with light."  He bowed to the floor.  "Her mind will be Yours, Mistress."
 
"Good boy, slave," Dominica replied.  The slave shuddered, feeling waves of pleasure ripple through his cock, his chest, up to his head.  Not quite orgasms, but they were intense, delicious, and so addictive.  And they were over -- so very soon.  He was already looking for new ways to serve Dominica, hoping to feel that pleasure again.  He knew that as soon as he finished with this task, She would put him back to work in the fields, naked, where the sun bronzed his skin, and the harvest work made his body grow lean and strong.  Where every task he performed would make him feel Her caresses upon his sex.  Stroking up and down, up and down, all day long.

MzDominica continued, "I will have my spy replace Mistress Black's mp3 player with one that has more… interesting… sound tracks in it."  She smiled.  "Go now, and give that woman's tanning bed a little… upgrade!"  She laughed, quietly, as the slave crawled away.  Oh yes, this was going to be so good!
 
*          *          *          *          *          *
 
In the tanning bed, the long tubes seemed to glow so steadily.  But if one's mind was truly quick enough -- quick like a computer -- she would notice that the lights were flickering.  Flashing.  Coruscating.  In patterns would appear to be random -- if one were aware of the subliminal, flashing variations.  But they were not random.  This tube glowed just a little bit brighter, illuminating and warming Mistress Black's left thigh and abdomen just a little more, for a second.  That tube glowed just a little bit darker, making her skin feel slightly cooler… for just a moment.  And so it went on, flickering and flashing.  Warming and cooling.  Brighter, darker, brighter-brighter, darker, cooler, warm, hot, then cool.  Over and over and over again.
 
And all the while, the mp3 unit played music -- and a subliminal sound track.  MzDominica's voice.  Suggesting… Teasing…  Soothing…  An idea here… A trigger word implanted there…  The flickering, flashing lights only increased the effectiveness of the barely-audible second track.  Flickering and flashing.  Glimmering and glittering.  So warm and cold.  So good to hear the voice.  So reasonable and pleasurable to listen.  So good to simply lie there, feeling the flickering moments of heat and cold, brightness and dark.  Dropping down and down and down into light and dark.  So gentle and flickering light and dark.  So restful and relaxing to simply drift and listen.  Drift and listen.  Darker and lighter, quiet and flickering.  So many simple things, so easy to do.  Yes, easy to do.  Much easier than trying to resist.  Feeling every muscle just let go.  Even those tiny muscles in her full, heavy bladder.  Just letting go and relaxing.  Especially when she saw or heard a special trigger word...
 
Mistress Black lay in her tanning bed, every muscle relaxed, while she smiled a gentle, quiet smile, enjoying the flickering heat and cold on her skin.  Dropping down and down and down, and listening to the pretty music.  So good.  So good to listen.
 
*          *          *          *          *          *
 
Mistress Black walked slowly into her living room, carrying a towel.  A little unsure of her footsteps.  Her slave Sheila, in the midst of spot cleaning the walls, knelt on the floor, as was appropriate for a slave, awaiting Mistress' commands.
 
"Stand," Mistress Black ordered.  And Sheila quickly stood, her hands at her sides.  In one hand she held a sponge, in the other a spray bottle of a cleaner named Fantastik.
 
Mistress Black suddenly released all her pee onto the hardwood floor, staring at the bottle.  She looked down, a little uncertainly, then looked up at the rubber-covered French maid.  "Clean that up," she commanded.  Then Mistress stepped around the puddle and walked away, down the hall.  She entered her big bedroom and closed the door.
 
Sheila quickly walked to the small table by the easy chair, picked up the phone, and dialed a number.  "This is 43," she said.  "Phase 1 complete.  Ready for phase 2."
 
From the other end of the phone came MzDominica's voice.  "Begin phase 2.  You must obey."
 
"I must obey Dominica," Sheila replied.  She hung up, and briskly walked to the door of Mistress Black's bedroom, listening.  After a moment of hearing nothing, she carefully opened the door, and saw that Mistress lay on her bed, on her back, one arm at her side, the other crossed over her forehead.  Breathing slowly and deeply.

Quietly, careful not to disturb Mistress, Sheila lifted the raised arm and placed it at the woman's side.  She listened again for any variation in the slow, deep pattern of Mistress' breathing.  Then she reached down into Mistress' handbag, pulled out the earbuds, and gently inserted them into Mistress' ears.  In another few moments, she had attached a different mp3 player to the headphones, and moved an upright lamp from the corner near Mistress' bed.  She turned on the mp3 player, turned on the lamp, and quickly walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.
 
On her bed, Mistress Black felt, rather than saw, the upright lamp flicker and flash, while the mp3 track played commands into her ears.  Playing commands over and over.  For obedience… for obsession… for relaxation…  Yes, she needed to relax…  Relax and obey…  Relax…  Relax and obey…

Early in the morning, Sheila opened the door to Mistress' bedroom.  Carefully.  Quietly.  The woman still lay on her back, hands at her sides, headphones still in place.  Her eyes were open, but they did not move.  Only her pupils, dilating wide, then constricting -- in sync with the flashing, flickering lamp.

Sheila reached up under her maid's dress and pulled down her rubber panties, letting them drop to the floor.  Then she walked over to the bed, shielding her eyes from the lamp with one rubber-covered hand, and climbed on top of Mistress Black, straddling her chest.  She pulled off the headphones and said, "A gift from Mistress Dominica."  Then pushed her shaved pussy against the hypnotized woman's mouth.  "You must obey."
 
"I must obey Dominica."  Mistress Black's voice came muffled from between Sheila's legs.

"Drink," Sheila commanded, in a tone her Mistress had never heard her use.

Mistress opened her mouth wide, and Sheila released a long, steady stream of pee into her mouth.  The woman swallowed, gulping, trying to keep up with the pungent liquid pouring in.

When her bladder was empty, Sheila gave one more command.  "Sleep," she said, and rose from the bed.  She turned off the lamp, and moved it back to its normal position in the corner, then put the earbuds away in Mistress' handbag.  She looked back at the bed, and saw that Mistress' eyes were closed, that she had curled up, lying on her side.  Breathing quietly and deeply.  Sheila picked up her rubber panties and left, again closing the door behind her.

It was nearly noon when Mistress Black arose from her bed, and went to the bathroom for her morning shower.  Her male slave "vomit" was there next to the commode, on his knees, shifting his weight back and forth, trying to hold in his pee -- because he was not permitted to release it in the morning until after Mistress had used him as her toilet.

Mistress smiled at her slave's helplessness, and snapped her fingers, pointing to the spot on the floor between her legs.  She shifted her stance, separating her legs wider, to give him room.  vomit crawled to the spot and waited, face upturned, mouth open, eyes closed.  She grabbed his head roughly, pressing his mouth against her smooth pussy, and gushed into his mouth.  The slave noticed that Mistress' pee had a different taste this morning.  He had learned to enjoy and desire every variation in Mistress' flavor -- but this seemed unlike anything he had tasted before.  Gulping noisily, he swallowed, still shifting his weight, struggling to control his full, aching bladder just a little bit longer.  Mistress released his head and commanded, "Go."  He scampered away on all fours, down the hall to the slaves' bathroom, racing against the cramps that threatened to make him let loose before he could get there.

In the shower, Mistress Black felt the warm water, spraying down upon her face, her neck, her breasts, as she slowly washed herself with the scented soap.  She needed a vacation, she decided.  Someplace far away.  Just for a while.  A week, maybe.  What she wanted was to take a long drive, up into the mountains…  A long drive, to someplace she could get away for a while, and relax.

She knew just the place.  Like she could see a roadmap to it in her head.  It was so clear.  She'd been there before.  Up to MzDominica's tavern.  She had a ranch or something up there, and had invited female dominants to stay for visits.  It would be the perfect thing.  She would tell the new slave… Sheila?  Tell her to cancel all her appointments for a week, and make sure her car was ready.

Yes, time for a long drive.  And a vacation.
 
*          *          *          *          *          *
 
Mistress Black's adventures are not finished yet, as you may have guessed!

More stories by jessicablank and MzDominica's other slaves can be found
at http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/">http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/">http://www.mzdominica.com/blog/ and on Her group at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MzDominica/

 

">http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MzDominica/">http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MzDominica/