Sunday, December 28, 2014
Chapter 11: Boxed in. Cheryl learns the price of failure.
I minced behind Mistress, my heels rapidly clicking as I tried to keep up with her. What else could I have done? I was extensively bound, gagged and blindfolded, and Mistress continuously kept tension on the leash, forcing me forward if I did not want to trip.
I did resist once though. When I heard the door to the penalty box creak open ominously, I panicked. I pulled on my leash, crying in my gag. I heard my heels as I stamped the floor.
Mistress sniggered as she let me stumble about a bit, holding onto the leash but not interrupting my tantrum. Only when I started to kick my legs (which in my current state was more dangerous to myself than anyone around me) did she intervene.
I felt her tug the leash, making me stumble forward. As I tried to regain balance, she struck me in my face. The bonnet softened part of the blow, but my cheek burned from her merciless slap. She took hold of my long hair and pulled my head back, causing me to yelp. She slapped the bare part of my ass, then pinched me there wickedly. Without a word she then pushed me forward, through the door and into her dark realm.
Jeanne and Bernadette were already there, and I heard them greet Mistress, who gave them instructions in French while she secured me. She attached the leash somewhere above me, then pulled it tight until I was unable to move my neck down. If I wasn't wearing heels, I would have been forced to stand on my toes.
I felt hands fiddle with me, and beneath my bonnet I recognized Bernadette's powerful hands and Jeanne's manicured fingers that reminded me of talons. They unstrapped my panty-harness and pulled them down, making me squirm as they removed the ribbed dildo from my behind.
“No peeking, girl,” Jeanne spoke, pulling my bonnet further down.
I felt the bonds between by knees being removed, then the ankle chain was disconnected from my left shoe.
“Pull your leg up, sissy. Step out of your panties. Now the other one. Good girl.” The chain was reattached immediately. The bonds tying my elbows together were removed, however.
I sputtered a protest when I felt wet cloth rub against my groin and ass, which was ignored of course. The maids were cleaning me, handling my privates without even giving me the courtesy of a warning. I shuddered as one finger cleaned my sissy hole more meticulously than I liked.
Meanwhile, I heard Mistress working on the other side of the room. Metal clicks were audible; cuffs and bonds that were being unlocked.
“Hold still, sissy,” Jeanne spoke. She took hold of my clitty, making me groan. I shook my feet in surprise and protest, but someone stepped on my ankle chain, pinning my feet on the ground.
I yelped as she pinched my clitty. “Hold still, I said,” Jeanne warned. “Don't make me say it again.” I stopped moving, but they did not let go of the ankle chain.
I could help moaning as I felt Jeanne fit something around my clitty. It felt like a flexible tube that went around the shaft. It was tight, even though my clitty wasn't excited, but I was not a cock-ring. Nor was it condom.
Jeanne startled me as she began to tickle the tip of my clitty, making me grunt and struggle a bit in my bonds. Then a pair of hand, presumably Bernadette's, reached around me and stroked my breasts. I didn't want to, but I felt my clitty grow.
“That is enough,” The short maid told her colleague. They both let go of me. I felt the pressure around my trapped clitty. It wasn't fully excited, but I the tip now was much more sensitive than in a fully relaxed state.
Jeanne fiddled some more with the tube, finishing with a content grunt. I groaned in annoyance. My clitty felt trapped, unable to grow further of relax.
“Are you done, ladies?” Mistress called. “Good. Bring her over.”
I felt the tension on my leash being released. Arms locked around mine. The two maid forced me forwards, towards Mistress.
They stopped, but held me tightly. Like I was capable of going anywhere.
“Get her hood off. I want her to see this.”
One hand untied the ribbon below my chin. An other pulled the pins from my hair. The bonnet came off. It was gloomy in the room, but I blinked anyway as my vision was restored.
I did not like what I saw.
I saw Mistress, hands crossed before her. She was still wearing her summer dress, but had exchanged her shoes and gloves for black leather boots and gloves. She was also wearing a belt of the same material that was almost wide enough to be considered a waist clincher. There was no denying she looked amazing, but the combination of a semi-formal summer dress and leather gave her appearance a disturbing wrongness.
She smiled voraciously, like she was ready to eat me whole. Her eyes showed pleasure, but the kind of pleasure no right thinking person wants to get involved in.
She was standing behind a piece of furniture that looked like... what exactly? It was mostly dark wood, with several solid metal bonds attached to the frame. There was soft padding on various surfaces, and leather straps and metal chains hung loosely from it.
She was standing next to a table, on which a multitude of toys were displayed. I recognized most of them, like the whip, paddle and dildo, but others were completely unknown to me.
I was shivering. My eyes were wide, but I had trouble registering what I saw. The two maid held me firmly upright.
“Want us to strip her, Ma'am?” Bernadette spoke.
Mistress tilted her head in thought. “No. I want her to feel trapped in her outfit. However...” She said something in French.
The two maids nodded. Their hands went to my chest and took hold of the fabric around my cleavage, pulling it back and around my boobs. Then they exposed my nipples from my bra.
I felt like crying. Those things weren't real, but for some reason I suddenly felt very exposed. Jeanne pinched my nipple, making me grunt. She chuckled in amusement.
Mistress smile was even wider now. Her gaze scanned me up and down. I think her breathing rate increased. Mine sure did.
“... Very nice,” she said, then turned to the maids. “Put her in.”
I wailed and cried as the maids forced me towards the contraption. My smothered pleas for mercy were ignored. Well, not quite ignored. Mistress obviously was very pleased with my desperate moans.
Bernadette reached behind me, unlocking my wrists. Both women held my arms firmly. Then the maids forced me forward, on my hands and knees, onto the structure. First my hands were placed in metal cuffs, which were snapped shut. My ankles were next. They were locked in another set of cuffs. They removed the now redundant ankle chain.
Now I was secured on this weird piece of bondage furniture, the two maids let go of me. They moved to opposite sides of the frame. Bernadette raised a padded platform below me, which allowed me to rest my belly on it. Jeanne connected a chain to my collar which gave me just enough room to look up, but not much else. The tall maid also wrapped straps around my knees which kept them firmly in their cushioned rests, while the raven-haired one took a rope and grabbed my hair. I muttered in protest as she tied the rope to my hair with an intricate knot, then pulled it back. Bernadette had just put a wide strap around my waist, to which Jeanne tied the rope. If I could only just look forward before, it was the only direction I could look at now.
They were out of my field of vision, but I heard them step back. Undoubtedly admiring their handiwork. Though I doubt they would look as pleased as Mistress did now.
“Thank you, ladies. You have done outstanding work. Would you be so kind as to give me and Cheryl here some privacy? I will call if I need you.”
“Of course, Ma'am,” The two maids replied in unison. “Enjoy, yourself, Ma'am. You too, Cheryl,” Jeanne said as she gave me a playful slap on my exposed behind. Then they left the room and closed the heavy door behind them.
Mistress pulled up a small chair, and sat down directly in front of me. Her confident smile contrasting with the frightful quiver that went through my chin and lips. I winced as she stroked the side of my face.
Then she reached around my head and, to my surprise, untied my gag. Scared of her as I was, I was thankful that she had finally removed the dreadful pacifier.
“It's time,” she said. “Are you ready Cheryl? Ready to experience pain in a way you never experienced it before?”
“Mistress...” I said frightened, pitifully.
“Hush now, girl. Save your breath, you will need it. But I can tell you this, you have been wonderful. What happens in here is not a punishment. It is a reward. You'll see, I promise.” She bent forward and kissed me on the lips. Her tongue entered my mouth. I closed my eyes and accepted it. It was strangely warm and comforting.
“Well, we have only two hours. Better get started.” She got up and turned towards the table. She chuckled. “Oh, this is perfect...” She held up the item she had selected.
I couldn't suppress a squeal when I saw it. “Now we can begin,” Mistress said with a terrible grin.
It is funny how the mind works. Of all the things that happened in those two hours (at least I assume it was two hours; to me it lasted an eternity), it was Mistress' lecture on bondage that I recall with crystal clarity.
There are three levels of using bondage, Mistress said as she worked me. The first level, the one every Mistress worth her title can employ, is binding her sissy so completely that she has absolutely no escape. This usually meant the poor girl is tied up very extensively, chains and ropes everywhere, so she is unable to resist whatever her Mistress wants to do to her. This is the perfect level if a Mistress wants to break the defiance of a sissy, or is just horny.
The second level is more difficult. It actually requires less bondage. The sissy should not be allowed to escape of course, but her bonds are looser. Just slack enough to make her think that with just a little bit more effort, she can break them and escape her Mistress. It is extremely pleasing to see a sissy struggle and squirm in vain, and it is a excellent way to let an agitated sissy burn some excess energy.
The third level is the most challenging. The bondage is as secure as any other level, but it gives the poor deluded sissy the idea that she already has escaped her bonds. It takes an enormous amount of preparation (and a very dimwitted sissy), but there is nothing as exciting as witnessing the moment the sissy finally realizes that all the time she thought she was free, each moment she rejoiced in her defiance, she was on her Mistress' leash.
Given this explanation, it is safe to assume that for this session in the penalty box, Mistress restricted herself to the first level of bondage. At no time did I have the illusion of freedom. My bonds were secure and inescapable, and I was unable to resist Mistress' cruel attentions.
If she thought two hours wasn't much time, she did not show it. She took her time, her actions very meticulous, achieving maximum effect.
Like when she used the hot candle wax on me. She showed me the candle first, tilting it left and right, making the liquid swirl around the little flame before my wide eyes. I desperately pulled my bonds, muttering pleas for mercy. By then she had gagged me again. I complained too much, she said. A big red ball had been forced into my mouth and with straps secured behind the back of my head.
She moved behind me, pressing her lubed strapon against my sissy-hole. She applied pressure, forcing me forward with what little leeway I had. The she turned over the candle.
I felt the hot liquid drop on my behind. I yelped and accidentally pulled back, impaling myself on Mistress strapon. I groaned as both the liquid ran down my thighs and Mistress pushed the penetrator in further.
Before the wax had solidified on my behind, she took an ice cube from her waiting drink, and pressed it against me. Startled, I pulled my body forward, drawing the phallus partially out. I felt my behind shiver as she moved the cold ice over my skin. With the cube I could feel her write watery letters on my behind. It spelled 'sissy'. Then she let another drop of hot wax fall right in the middle, making me move back again, groaning.
Hot and cold, used interchangeably, each with its own potent sting. When the burn of the wax had faded, the freeze of the ice took its place, and vice versa. And meanwhile Mistress fucked me. Correction, forced me to fuck myself. When she reached around and started to touch my clitty, I no longer knew where pleasure ended and pain began.
Mistress was true to her word. She was hurting me, giving me pain. But it was 'good' pain. Or at least not as bad as I had feared. I cried and squealed, for sure. The pain, the humiliation, the submission, all created a cauldron of mixed feelings that I could not manage or contain. Emotions forced their way out via tears and sobs.
But underneath all that, was a powerful intoxication that warped my mind. It was how I imagined having an acid trip; you know it is wrong and bad for you, but you are entranced by all the pretty colours that you just want to stare at endlessly. Perhaps Mistress was right. Perhaps pain can be a powerful drug too.
A thought popped into my head. Can you get addicted on pain as well? I immediately buried that very worrisome idea.
By the time Mistress had selected the paddle, I wasn't crying or wailing anymore. I just accepted whatever she gave me and responded to it. I simply squealed as she struck me, repeatedly, and she hit hard. She didn't use her whole arm, clearly not wishing to actually harm me, but with a flick of her wrist she managed to slap my bare skin in a way that made it feel like I was being licked by tongues of fire.
When I thought I could take no more, she put the paddle away. She started using her hands next. Pinching, slapping, squeezing and poking she focused on the parts of my skin that the paddle had turned red. It was hurtful what she did, but the contrast with the paddle was enormous. What would normally be painful now felt positively mild. Relaxing even. I think I began to moan.
She had first given me bad pain, followed by what she called good pain. Then came the transition to pleasure. I didn't even notice the moment were she switched to touching and fondling my erogenous areas. I did not come, but the incessant teasing was almost as powerful.
Then my time in the penalty box was over. I heard the two maids enter, and Mistress gave them instructions as she uncuffed me. She kissed me on the lips (I could not remember her taking my gag out, but it was already gone) and whispered something in my ear as she stroked my hair.
I had been released from my bonds, but I had no energy to move. I was so very tired. I felt Bernadette lift me from the contraption that I had been tied to for two hours and place me in a wheelchair. I felt her push my wrists together, locking my cuffs in front of me. But she did not have to bother, I was not going anywhere even if I wanted to.
They rolled me out of the penalty box, and I saw Jeanne wet a piece of cloth with a bottle she was holding. I gave a startled grunt as she pushed the wet fabric against my mouth and nose.
Then everything went black.
I woke up in my bed, a bit groggy and very confused. I remembered the events in the penalty box, but they seemed unreal. Like a dream that you can still remember just after waking up.
I looked around me. It was a bit gloomy. How long had I been asleep? Was it evening or morning?
And what had happened to my clothes? I touched my outfit, and found I was only wearing a hairnet and a simple white nightdress, not even panties. My absurdly short skirt was gone, as were the corset, bra and my bondage. I hadn't felt this free for quite some time.
Slowly I got up. I saw Jeanne on the other side of my room, sitting in a chair reading a magazine.
Her head turned towards me when she saw me move. She smiled warmly. “Hello there, sleeping beauty. How do you feel, chèri?”
I smiled back, but without much enthusiasm. Jeanne was one of my jailers and I could not trust her. “I'm... good, Miss Jeanne. I feel fine. What day is it, if I may ask?”
She laughed. “It is still 'today', chèri. You have only been asleep for a few hours. Ma'am insisted you'd get some rest after your little rendez-vous. But I'm glad you are awake. We must get you ready for dinner.”
“Dinner?” I asked confused.
“Why yes. It is well past dinnertime already. Aren't you hungry?”
As in response my stomach suddenly growled. “I... Er... I am, actually. Should I go to the dinner hall, then?”
“Not like this you shouldn't. Let's get you properly dolled up first.” She walked over to my bed and offered me her hand. “Up now, my dear.”
I smiled prettily as I took her hand. She guided me to the side of the bed, letting me put my legs over its edge. “Let's get your sandals on. Just relax. I'll do it for you.”
She knelt down at the side of my bed and picked up one of my three inch heels standing there. She took hold of my right ankle and slipped the sandal over my foot. She closed the buckle and repeated the process with my left foot. As she got up she offered me her hand again. I got up from my bed and she escorted me to the door.
I was guided towards the dressing room, where Bernadette was waiting for us. Apparently they had already cleaned me up when I was out, so we didn't have to stop at the bathroom.
The tall maid stripped me of my night gown and left me standing naked on the platform while they selected my outfit.
To my silent relief they ignored the boxes with the special outfits that were custom made for me, but instead searched among the various outfits that were hanging in the massive closet. The two maids chattered amongst themselves. I couldn't understand a word they were saying, but it was clear that they were having a friendly argument about what I should wear. It was easy to forget that despite everything else, my two jailers were young women with a sensitive fashion sense too.
What they finally agreed upon surprised me. White lacy bra and panties, but no corset. Then a silk white blouse that had no frills whatsoever. My skirt was powder blue, reminiscent of a poodle skirt but shorter, falling just above my knees. I was to wear a petticoat underneath, but a rather small one so my skirt had some volume, but not as much as I had come to expect.
For over my blouse they gave me a very short violet jacket that covered my shoulders and most of my upper arms, but did not reach below my chest. They closed it in front with a single button, so that my cleavage was hidden only by my blouse. A long scarf was tied around my waist and knotted into a large bow at my back. Its purple colour matched that of the ribbon that tied my hair in a ponytail. Jeanne made sure a couple of locks of hair fell down the side of my face.
They had dressed me as a fifties teenager ready for prom night. It was girlish but not excessively frilly. Danielle had been dressed like this before, but not me. When they were done with my makeup, which was elaborate but subtle, they allowed me to see myself in the mirror. I looked like Danielle's sister. Older, but not by much.
I assumed they had given me one of Danielle's outfits to wear. However, it fit me like a glove, which was curious since I was taller than Danielle. Of course, Mistress may have bought her clothes expecting Danielle to grow into them in a year or so.
After adding some jewellery, including a necklace and earrings, they had me step into my shoes for tonight. They were simple but high quality white patent leather pumps with a very lenient three inch heel.
When the maids were satisfied with my appearance, they escorted me to the dining hall.
“Miss Rosenberg, for your approval, may we present to you your guest, little miss Cheryl,” Jeanne spoke.
Mistress was already seated at the table, but stood up smiling when she saw me. “Oh I very much approve, Jeanne,“ she said as she walked up to me. I bobbed a curtsey and greeted her respectfully. She just nodded with a content smile as she inspected me, fiddling with my outfit.
“Excellent work as always, ladies. Come here Cheryl. Sit with me.” She took my hand and guided me towards the table, where she held a chair for me. I smiled politely when I sat down. “Thank you, Mistress.”
“You are very welcome, my dear,” Mistress spoke with a radiant smile. “Bernadette? Would you please inform the chef we are ready for dinner? Thank you.”
Mistress turned to me again. “Well, after all that excitement, I feel I could eat a horse. How about you, Cheryl? Are you hungry?”
And exactly on cue, my stomach rumbled again audibly, making Mistress snigger and me blush. “I'll take that as a yes,” she said.
It took me some time to relax. After all, this was the woman that only hours ago had subjected me to her wicked 'art form'. Still, right now she had a very pleasant demeanour. She spoke about the history of the estate, making jokes about some of the more remarkable events. Several went over my head, but some made me genuinely laugh. She asked me about the United States, addressing topics ranging from its history, to its cuisine. I even put up a lively defense of the merits of the good old-fashioned hamburger, much to Mistress amusement. We agreed to disagree on that issue.
She did evade the topic of my past though. Every time I wanted to tell her an anecdote of when I was still Charles, she changed the subject. Did she not want to hear it, or did she not want me to remember it?
I pushed that thought aside, determined to enjoy the moment while it lasted. Right now she treated me like her favourite niece, and after today's events that was more than I could have hoped for. I even gave a delighted squeal when I saw that we had ice cream for dessert.
After dinner we retired to the living room, where the maid served us tea and biscuits. For a while I was concerned, when Mistress pulled me close against her, but she made no further advances.
Technically, I still fell under the house rules, meaning I had to show a certain infatuation for her. But Mistress seemed very content, so I limited myself to snuggling up against her and giving her loving kisses on the cheek. I did not want to break this moment of tranquility myself.
The evening ended with us watching TV together. It was an American movie that I had already seen, but it was dubbed in German. Funny to see well-knows actors speak in another language with a very strange voice.
When the credits rolled, Mistress turned to me. “I'm going to bed, my dear. I suggest you do to. It has been an hectic day, and you need to be well rested for tomorrow.”
“Yes Mistress,” I said. Then I added: “Will there be something special tomorrow, Mistress?”
She looked at me curiously. Then grinned. “Well of course, silly girl. Every day is special with you around.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” I said smiling, hiding my annoyance at her evading my question.
“Well then, shall I escort you to your room?” Mistress asked me.
“If Mistress would be so kind...” I answered
“Or do you want me to take you to my room?” She suddenly asked. Her lips were still smiling, but her eyes weren't. I felt a cold shiver going down my spine.
“Mistress? I do not understand...” I said hesitantly.
“It is a simple question, dear. Do you want to go to your own room, or do you want to join me at mine?” Her face grew harder. She was testing me, and I'd better not be found wanting.
“I... Er... I...” I stammered. Suddenly my mind was in overdrive. What did she want to hear? If I said I wanted to go to my own room, she might feel rejected. If I'd ask to join her, she might be insulted by my impudence. After all, she did not actually invite me there...
“Well?” She asked impatiently.
“I... I only want what my Mistress wants,” I said as I forced a submissive smile on my face. “But I would be honoured if Mistress would invite me to her room.” I risked a cheeky wink at her.
I tried to hide my anxiety as Mistress looked me deep in the eyes with an expression that could have been carved from granite. Then she smiled, with gentle warmth suddenly radiating from her face.
“Oh, but my dear, you are always most welcome in my room. Come, let me take you there.” She took my hand and together we went to her personal quarters.
Her private rooms filled most of the floor in the west wing, with her drawing room, bedroom, dressing room and private bathroom all connected to one another. Together they had space that rivaled a moderately-sized house in the US.
We entered via the drawing room and I couldn't help glancing towards the chair which I had hidden behind only hours ago, desperate to avoid Mistress.
And now I was holding her hand while she dragged me towards her bedroom. Weird how these things turn out.
We made a stop at the dressing room first.
“Strip, girl,” Mistress told me. “Let's get you into something more appropriate.”
As I got out of my outfit, Mistress produced a couple of boxes. She opened the first one, showing me a sheer white babydoll. “You will look so lovely in this,” she said smiling. I could only nod nervously.
Before I could put on the babydoll, I first had to be tied into a satin waist corset with suspenders. Stockings were then rolled op my legs. Lacy panties completed my frilly white ensemble.
But that was only the first box. The next one contained white patent ankle boots with extreme five inch heels. They had no integrated bondage, but the strap and buckle around the ankle hinted that once put on, they were not supposed to come off anytime soon.
“What do you think?” Mistress asked as she watched them slip around my feet and buckle the.
I stood up, horrified by the ridiculous height of the heels. I could barely remain upright. “They are... very high, Mistress,” I said hesitantly.
She barked a laugh. “Of course they are! These are bedroom heels. They are not made for walking, only to look sexy while wearing them. And my oh my, you look very hot indeed.” I managed to mutter a 'thank you, Mistress'.
The third box was much smaller, and contained gloves. They looked like they were the boots' counterparts, made from patent white leather that came up to my wrists. Even the buckled that closed the straps looked like the ones on the boots. Mistress helped me strap them on.
“And last, but not least...” She held up my collar.
I gasped. The word 'collar' did not describe it properly. It looked more like a corset that fit around the neck. In its shape I could recognize where it would rest on my shoulders, and how it would keep my chin up. The white leather looked very stiff.
“Mistress!” I blurted out. “You cannot be serious.”
She looked at me and smirked. “Of course I am not serious.” She nodded at the collar. “This is just a bit of fun. Now hold still while I strap this little bundle of fun on you...”
I wanted to step backwards, but stumbled in my heels. I fell back on the chair I was sitting on. Flustered, I did not resist as Mistress wrapped the collar around me and locked it in place.
“There we go. Now then, let's get you to bed.” She helped me up and guided me to the door of the bedroom.
“Shouldn't I be helping you get undressed, Mistress?” I asked. To be honest I couldn't care less about helping her, but by now I really did not want to go to her bed. Right now I would take any opportunity for delay.
“Very thoughtful of you, my dear. But quite unnecessary. You just get comfortable, and leave the rest to me.” And with that she escorted me to her bed. A large wooden canopy bed that was wider than any king-sided bed I knew. She gently sat me down on its side, then watched as I slowly put my feet up and on the sheets. I laid back on the abundance of pillows, and with beating heart I looked up to Mistress, waiting for whatever came next.
She watched me, the frilly white sissy lying on her bed. Looking frightened but waiting willingly for her Mistress to touch her. Her smile both content and fiendish.
“You wait here, girl. I need to get ready. This may take a moment. But remember, no touching yourself.”
“Yes, Mistress,” I answered. That was unlikely anyway.
“But let you give you this first.” She held up... something. A blindfold? Ski-mask? Goggles?
“What is that?” I asked confused.
“You just watch,” she said with an eager and amused smile. “Be careful though. This was verdammt expensive, so do not break it.”
She put it over my eyes, then strapped it around my head at the back. Parts fell over my ears. First I thought it was a blindfold, but as my hand went up to my eyes, I felt it was made from hard plastic.
“Do you see it?” Mistress asked.
“See what, Mistress?”
“Oh, wait... I forgot to turn it on...” I felt her fiddle with the mask.
Then I saw it. A room was in front of me. I was lying on my back but I was not staring at the ceiling, but looking down on a bed. This was not Mistress' room.
“What the...” I uttered.
“See it now?” Mistress asked again.
“I'm not sure...” I said. I saw two women in the room, both scantly clad. They were talking to each other, but I could not hear them.
“What is this? Some movie?” I asked confused.
“Ah, so it works? Great. Is it 3-D? He said it would be 3-D. Well, never mind for now. Yes, it's a movie. The goggles have miniature displays that project a film right before your eyes. Your very own television set on your nose. You like it?”
I moved my hand before my face, but only saw the movie play before me. “This is weird...”
“It might take some getting used to. You just enjoy the movie while I prepare. Remember, no touching yourself! You have audio?”
I hear Mistress mutter to herself. “I think that was this button...”
Now the two women spoke. They were speaking German, so I had no idea what they were saying, but they apparently were enjoying themselves. The fact that they were fondling one another reinforced that idea. I had a very strong suspicion about exactly what kind of movie this was.
By the time the two women had found their way to the bed I was quite certain I was right.
What can I say, I was enjoying the movie. I was getting rather excited when the woman in black, who was clearly the dominant one, started teasing the other who was wearing white. She held up a crop and started to tickle the girl's breasts with it.
Wait, what was I wearing again?
I did not touch myself as the movie continued, but I started moving on the bed. I felt my heart rate and breathing increase. I ran my boot along the inside of my other leg. My hand found its way to my breasts.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Cheryl?” I heard Mistress say in my ear.
That startled me, but I muttered an affirmation. “Good, you can hear me. Hold still, this may be disorienting...”
And I saw a room again. But it wasn't the room with the two women inside. It was older, bigger, with a large canopy bed at one wall. On that bed lay a girl in a white babydoll, a blindfold over her eyes.
I was seeing myself, I realized.
Mistress stepped into my view. “Can you see me, Cheryl? Wave if you do.” I saw Mistress turn around and look at the girl in white, who raised her hand. “Excellent.” I saw her step back from the camera. She showed me her outfit. A red and black ensemble that accentuated her dominant features. Her boots and corset were black leather, while her corset was red satin. Her long gloves looked like blood red latex. “You like it?” She said with a smile.
She raised her skirt, giving me a glimpse of the strapon underneath. I saw her holding a simple but wicked looking crop.
“Now, shall we begin?” Mistress said as she was grinning ear-to-ear.
I saw Mistress walk over to the bed and sit down next to the girl. She smiled to the camera, then bent forward, putting her lips over the girl's.
The experience was confusing, to say the least. Unreal even, like the girl in white simply wasn't me, that she was just some character in some stupid adult movie. What made it worse was the fact that there was a few seconds delay between what I felt and what I saw before me. I felt Mistress' tongue in my mouth while I saw her sitting next to the girl, while she was still kissing her when Mistress had already withdrawn from me.
Disoriented by these conflicting inputs, my mind focused on what I saw before me, and I watched as the scene played out.
And to be honest, it did look very hot...
Mistress lay next to the girl, fondling her. Mistress' hands went under the girl's babydoll, into her panties. A finger went into her mouth, and the girl put her lips around it.
Mistress pressed a button on a remote next to the bed. Sound flooded my ears. I heard the two women of the adult movie, but did not see them. Before me was still the scene of Mistress and the girl, who was sucking on Mistress finger while her other hand started teasing the girl's breasts. Overlaying this was the sound of the other two women, who were getting very active with one another. Between the short sentences of unintelligible German, I could hear them moan and groan. Or was I hearing the girl in white?
Mistress' hand went into the girl's panties again, just when one of the women grunted excitedly. I saw her kick her legs in excitement. Mistress was right. Those five inch heels indeed were very hot.
Mistress moved the girl upwards, and like putty in her hands the girl followed her movements. Mistress brought her mouth towards the strapon, and she accepted it without reluctance.
As the two women moaned, I saw the girl suck slowly but meticulously on Mistress' strapon. She held up the crop, and brought it down on the girls behind. An excited squeal resounded in my ear, which I assumed was of one of the women. Nevertheless, I saw the girl patter her legs while Mistress held her head down.
Another strike came down, and another. The sucking intensified. Mistress looked into the camera, smiling victoriously. “She is such a good girl. A perfect little sissy, don't you think?” I clearly heard her say over the audio.
Mistress turned the girl around and took up position behind her. They were sideways in the bed, so I got a good look of the girl as she leaned on all fours. She is so hot, a primitive part of my brain said. I'd love to do her.
I felt it in my groin that I was excited. My underwear felt very tight against my privates.
I saw the girl gasp for breath as Mistress entered her, a shudder going through her spine as Mistress started moving back and forth. One of the women sighed and uttered an excited 'Oh... Oh... OH!' exactly to the rhythm of Mistress' movements.
I felt my heart pound as I saw the Mistress ride her girl. In another time I would touch myself to find release, but I did not do it now. Instead, I just kept on watching as the girl was being impaled by her Mistress. I finally climaxed on my own, just before I saw the girl shiver and come as well.
The women I heard continued on, but I did not notice them anymore. I just saw the Mistress withdraw from the girl, who weakly slumped onto the sheets. The Mistress in black and red grabbed some tissues and cleaned herself and her girl.
“Get up, Cheryl.” The Mistress said. I only heard her. The other women were probably done too. “Up now, turn around.” She moved the girl to the foot of the bed, where they both sat down on its edge.
“Wave to your audience, Cheryl. Thank them for watching.” I saw the blindfolded girl put up her hand weakly.
Mistress winked at the camera. “But don't go away yet, there is more...”
She reached under the bed and pulled out a box, which she held up to the camera.
“In here is an item of such depravity, that few may look onto it without going insane. Who knows what horrors will be unleashed if it is finally used in the most perverse forms of love-making?” She opened the box. Mistress looked into it, widening her eyes in disgust. “Oh my goodness, it is terrible! The horror!”
I couldn't see what was in it though. The angle of the camera was wrong.
Mistress continued speaking. “For knowledge's sake, in an effort to explore the deepest secrets of this vile item, my lovely assistant here has volunteered to be subjected to this infernal device. Watch as she explores depths no sissy has gone before.”
Mistress stood up, and urged the girl upwards as well, who followed meekly. Standing in front of the bed, Mistress held the box between them, reaching into it.
I watched intently as she was about to reveal the mysterious item.
Then Mistress turned to the camera. “Of course, we cannot have our audience go insane from watching this. As such, certain precautions need to be taken.”
She put the box down without revealing what was in it. Instead she reached for the curtains of the canopy bed. After some fiddling with them, they fell down and hid the Mistress and the girl from the camera. Only two pairs of high heels were visible beneath the hanging curtains.
Mistress spoke from behind the fabric. “With that precaution in place, we can begin.” I heard her open the box and take out whatever it was.
What followed was probably the strangest adult movie that anyone had ever seen. One where you didn't actually see anything happen. Yet, that somehow made it intriguing.
The curtains waved and fluttered as the people behind them seemed to be locked in a struggle. It waved significantly more where the girl was standing.
I looked at the two pair of heels underneath the curtains. I saw Mistress' boots, standing firm, making only slight movements. In contrast, I saw the white ankle boots step about, stamp the floor, kick and make other agitated movements. Whatever was happening, the girl wearing those ankle boots was on the receiving end.
This went on for some time, the movements of the girl getting more and more frantic. Suddenly, the black boots stepped forward and the white heels lost contact with the floor. The girl must have landed face first on the bed, since her heels stuck out horizontally from underneath the curtain. The black boots then took position in between the white ankle boots.
If the white heel had moved frantically before, now they seemed to be panicking. Rapidly they kicked up and down. The black boots were moving too, matching whatever motion their wearer was making, very composed and controlled, ignoring the frantic kicking of cute white ankle boots.
Despite the fact I could see so little (or was it because if it?) I had once again become quite excited. It didn't take long for me to climax.
I felt fingers on the back of my head, and the world changed. Suddenly I was no longer looking at a bed from across the room. Instead I looked at it from up close, with my face down on the sheets. Mistress had pulled off the goggles, and I was no longer a spectator or audience, I was her unwilling participant again. I was the girl in white.
I felt the satin babydoll on my skin, the tight collar around my neck, the boots around my feet. I also felt my body. My feet, legs, bottom, boobs, everything hurt or felt like they had been handled in a way nature had not intended. What on earth had happened to me? Why did I let it happen?
Mistress closed the lid of the box, in which she had put away the thing she had been using on me. And I still did not know what it was!
Mistress sat down next to me. She stroked my back, then pulled up my panties that were dangling around my knees. Her voice was sounded tender, calling me a good girl and a lovely sissy. I did not have the courage to look at her, though. I felt too humiliated to face her undoubtedly mean smirk.
“Let's get this off you,” she said as she untied my collar. Well, at least that was a relief. I could move my head again.
She left me on the bed, telling me to rest while she prepared for the night.
I hadn't moved an inch when she finally came back, but I shot her a quick glance. She had removed her dominant outfit and replaced it with a simple black negligee. She had removed her makeup and her hair fell loosely over her shoulders.
“Let's get some sleep, my dear. It is getting late,” She said to me. “Sit up, Cheryl. Get off those sheets. Good girl. Let me tuck you in, honey.”
“Mistress, my heels...” I said.
“What about them? Surely a girl like you dreams of wearing pretty heels all the time? Just leave them on. Now, when you wake up, you'll be wearing a fabulous pair already.” Her eyes betrayed for whose enjoyment this really was.
“Gloves too?” I asked. Mistress smiled as she nodded.
I got under the sheets, careful not to rip the sheet covering the mattress with my stilettos. Mistress lay down on the bed too and pulled the sheets over me. She kissed me on the lips, then turned off the lights.
We lay there close together, her arm and leg wrapped around me. “She whispered in my ear. “Sweet dreams, Cheryl. Remember, when you wake up, I will be right here.”
I couldn't determine whether that was meant as a reassurance or a threat.