The Pit (Teaser)

By DX

 

 

 

Copyrighted 12/2022, all rights reserved.  This story may not be reproduced without permission from the author.

 

A man scoffs a professional dominatrix, "How easy it is, getting paid to paddle naughty bums!"  But instead of anger, she invites him to a special retreat where there will be no saafe words, only predator and prey.  He accepts, deciding to be predator, but will he just be prey?

 

 

He drank deep from the well of her beauty and was helpless to look away.  She had cascading, iridescent raven hair and cool, ice blue eyes that peeked out from her long lashes.  Her sculpted high cheeks swept easily to her full, strong lips that held a resting bemused smile. 

It was late afternoon, and the hotel lobby was filled with perfect light.

She wore a leather jacket that did nothing to conceal her battleship breasts that sat waiting in harbor.  The jacket had a mandarin collar and military epaulettes.  It was wrinkled and crinkled and butter soft with a deep wax shine.  Her leather skirt ended just at her knees, showing off her longer than the law allowed legs for just a peek before the cuff of her calf gripping boots plunged her back into severe, tight leather.

The heels of her boots were deadly weapons and notched from her confirmed kills.

Ankles delicately crossed, she sat in a lounge chair reading a book.  

He gaped, stupidly.

“Can I help you?”  She asked, not looking up from her book.

Her voice was like warm honey and rang of Dixieland.  He could feel her pillowy breasts against his naked body has he stumbled into their canyon.  He came back to reality when he realized she was talking to him.

“Oh, uh, hmm?”  He stammered.  “Ah, yes, I was, uh, wondering what you were reading?”

She continued to read, not wanting to acknowledge him more than she needed to.  “A book.”  She said, politely.

He scoffed.  “Print is dead.”  He chuckled.

Her eyes flashed up and stabbed him brutally with a glare, splattering blood everywhere.  She softened, almost conceding there were too many witnesses and resumed her reading.  “Long live the Print.”  She said, hoping to end the vapid conversation.

His head bobbled slightly.  “I don’t follow.”

This time her eyes cut him so finely it would take him days to bleed.  “I wasn’t leading.”  She resumed reading.

“I mean,”  He persisted.  “I don’t understand.  Was that a joke?”

She regarded him casually and gave him a soft smile.  “If you have to ask, then my little josh has fallen flat on its face, so pay it no mind.”  She returned to her book.

He could feel shadows creep nearer whenever she looked away.  He inched to the edge of his seat to get that much closer to her.  “Are you here for the convention?”

His breath pulled easily from his lungs as her lips parted.  She touched her finger to her tongue and insouciantly turned a page.  “No.”  She said as if she had gently closed a door.

“Oh, yeah.”  He relented.  “I guess you wouldn’t.  Your husband then?”

An icy vapor curled about her lips.  “No.”

His face flashed with mild surprise and elation.  “I see.”

She silently sighed as she closed her book and set it in her lap.  She placed her feet flat on the floor and leaned towards him, her blue eyes cutting him open with a saber.  “I’m a professional dominatrix.”

“Oh, Oooh.”  He said with a sly grin.  “Waiting for your slave then?”  He teased.

“No.”  Her voice was the dropping blade of a guillotine.  “My slaves wait on me.”  

He sat back, a little afraid.  “Nice work if you can get it.”  He dismissed her with a sniff.  “Kind of easy work, isn’t it?  Getting paid for spanking naughty bottoms.  I’d like that job.”

“Then go do it.”  She pointed with a tilt of her head.  “Go spank someone and get paid.  Go on.”

His face scrunched in disgust.  “Oh, I’m not into that stuff.”

Her eyes were lidded as they drank in his soul.  “Really?  You haven’t taken your eyes off my heels since you sat down.”

He crossed his arms defensively.  “What?  No, I just… Well you certainly have quite the look.”

She sat back in her chair as if it were a throne.  “It’s not my look that you noticed, but my look.”  Her eyes slowly coiled around him like a python.  “That’s how a dominatrix works.  She looks, and knows her prey.”

He frowned as her coils tightened around him.  “You think I’m prey?”

Her voice was warm summer days leading to nights of fireflies dancing in the boughs of Spanish Moss ladened trees.  “I know you’re prey; but despite the quiver of your fat jowls, you’re not enough of a meal for me.  I ignored you because you’re boring, and now that you have my attention I can see I was right.  You’re a boring, baggy-eyed, mouth breathing, offspring of siblings keen on licking the ass of a fly.  With each less than discrete scratch at your crotch I can see the embarrassing nub of your limited manhood.  I see you’re not prey, but the prey of prey, the hunt of rabbits.  You are pathetically pathetic.” 

She took up her book and resumed her reading.

He felt the sting of her verbal slap.  He knew she had insulted him, but had to take a moment to unpack how.  Anger, frustration, and irritation flared in the hairs on the back of his neck while he felt the stir of his loins.  He glanced around the hotel lobby for a distraction from her, but he couldn’t just look away; he couldn’t just leave it at that.

As her spell was cast, the tiniest triumphant smile leaked from her lips.

He grumbled.  “So, you can read me?  Like your book?”

She didn’t look up.  “Already read.  No character development.”  She said.

He glowered and leaned forward.  “What’s my story then?”

Her eyes cascaded ninja stars and their poison tipped blades jammed into his flesh.  She set her book down and faced him.  “You have a new cheap suit, the hanger creases are still evident.  You can’t open your jacket because it will reveal the stains on your shirt and the fact you had to add extra holes to your belt to accommodate your embarrassing gut.  You bought your gaudy ring from a late night shopping channel and your gold watch from a man on a street corner who also sells phone cases and dish towels.  The liquid polish you use on your shoes is leaving streaks in the carpet.  I imagine it is the same stuff you use in your hair.  Your key fob says Lamborghini, yet you drive a ten year old Korean hatchback.”  She shrugged with her brows.  “You’re so pitiful, you disgust yourself.”

 He was paralyzed.  He wanted to pull his key fob out of his pocket to figure out how she saw it, but he resisted.  “You’re like a detective.”  He finally blurted.

She sighed with the patience of a schoolteacher with a slow student.  “I’m a dominatrix.  I have to know more about you than you do.”  She held out her hand.  “Give me your phone.”  She casually ordered.

He quickly fumbled for it, unlocked it, and handed it to her before realizing how much of a bad idea it was.

She tapped at the screen, and a moment later somewhere on her person something chimed.  “There, I have your number.”  She said, still tapping on his phone.  “I’m deleting mine from your phone.  You don’t need it.”  She flung, more than tossed it back at him.  It bounced in his clapping hands before he dropped it, cracking the screen.

“Unbelievable,”  She admonished.  “I put it right in your hands.  I bet you were always the last chosen for the playground team.”  She waved the notion away.  “In a couple months about a dozen of us mistresses and masters will be getting together at a woodland retreat.  We won’t be practicing safe-words or respecting limits.  We don’t, Top from the Bottom.  There will be predators and prey.  We’ll be bringing our best slaves for fun and games.”

Her sapphire eyes cut open his chest to reveal his beating heart.  “I like the feel of a man’s testicles crushed like grapes beneath my naked feet.”  He could feel the fingers of her hand slither around his pulsing heart.  “My two studs will be pony racing, so I was thinking you might be of some use, sort of an ornamentation or bedizenment.”  Her eyes smiled devilishly as she dinned on his fear.

“And there will be blood, or burns, or scars, or all of the above.  There will be tears; many, many uncontrollable tears.  If anything, you will be permanently changed.  You will learn who you really are, a servant, a toy, a thing to be discarded, and happy to be so.”  She picked up her book and found her page.  “You’ll be allowed to ejaculate at least once, and since I wouldn’t trust you with such a delicate endeavor, I will have one of my slaves see to it.  You will show, because a worthless pillow-humper such as yourself can’t turn down a chance to lick the bottom of my shoe for free.”

 

The Pit (Teaser)

By DX

 

For the full story, support us at Subscribestar Adult.

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Copyrighted 12.2022, all rights reserved.  Story my not be reproduced without author's permission.
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Take a tour of Mistress Safia's wild dungeon of thrills and torments, of science and perversion, where slaves go eagerly for the ultimate submission!

Follow along as a candidate slave is show what might happen in Mistress Safia's care.  Permanent bondage!  Chastity! Castration! To name a few...  


Permanent Position (Teaser) 

By DX

 

(Subscribe for the full, exciting story https://subscribestar.adult/dx-gagorder), https://subscribestar.adult/posts/861690)

 

 

Copyright,  4/2022 1/2023, all rights reserved.  Story may not be reproduced without permission.

 

 

 

 

“Hello!  And welcome!  After all the e-mails, texting, and video chat it is good to finally see you in person.  Although we’ve virtually met, let me formally introduce myself:  I am sub-mistress Gwen.  You’ll often hear the other ladies and lords refer to me as Miss Gwen.  To be clear, you have applied to join Mistress Safia’s stable as a slave.  I have the honor today to conduct your final interview.  Once completed, I will file a report to Mistress Safia and she will determine if you are suitable to join her stables.  Know that this will be less of an interview and more of a pre-orientation session.  I will do all the talking.  

“As you can see, Mistress Safia is a woman of wealth and means.  The opulence you see is just the foyer!  However, before we begin, there are a few issues to clarify.  Mistress Safia is, as we have previously discussed in our correspondence, a true sadist, and believes in the subjugation of slaves.  Slaves are not considered people.  Clothes or affectations are forbidden.   Before we can move forward into the drawing room you must disrobe.  Excellent, you have no fear of being naked in front of a stranger.  This is a good slave quality.  Fold your clothes neatly and place them on the table.   Place your watch, jewelry, wallet, and phone into this pouch.  Very good.  Now, hand me the pouch, but do not touch me.  Good.  For the duration of the interview, I will hang the pouch right here on my utility belt.  If you move forward in this process, your personal artifacts will be stored in a pouch such as this one and secured in a safe where they will remain.  In the event of your resignation or termination, your items will be returned to you.

“Now that you have seen the pouch, know this is all the storage space you will be allowed to keep.  Any item that does not fit in this pouch will be discarded.  Consider that, should you move forward in the selection process.  

“Looking at you I see you may have used, let’s just say, a less updated picture in your application.  As a slave, your diet will be nutritionally appropriate.  I imagine you’ll loose a few pounds, most slaves do.  However, before we move on, I cannot risk any of the ladies or lords to see your, less attributed physique.  Fortunately I have come prepared.  There on that table you’ll see a cat-suit.  Put it on.  If you are brought on as a slave this will be the only option you’ll wear.  Most of our slaves wear them and they work very well to correct any flaws.  Go on, you’ll find it is quite stretchy.  It looks like, feels like, and acts like smooth, shiny, latex, but it too is made from Nanotech.  We call it Nanotex.  Because of its nature, you can wear it indefinitely.  You don’t even have to bathe!  Just a quick wipe down to remove any dust and refresh its shine.  Yes, this does look good for you.  I imagine if you join our stables this will be your uniform for the duration of your stay here.  Also know that slaves are not to have any body hair.  Mistress Safia believes body hair is unkempt, and a genetic throw back to caveman times.  The suit, however, eliminates body hair; otherwise you would be required to shave daily.  A single hair stubble is grounds for punishment.  Many slaves find the chore of shaving cumbersome and prefer to wear the suit indefinitely.

“Before we begin the formal portion of your interview, I must instruct you that all slaves are to be on their knees at all time.  Go on… there you are.  Walking is for people, and since slaves are not considered people, you will be on your knees.  It is painful at first, but the slaves quickly get used to it.  With some exception, you will find most of your duties, cleaning or servicing, can be conducted from your knees.  For today, if you break this rule I will immediately terminate the interview and you will be sent home.  To insure that does not happen, I have brought these trainers.  Lightweight and elegant, they lock onto your ankles.  Its simple design keeps the foot pushed down.  While in place you’ll find standing is impossible.  Click them on.  You’ll hardly notice them, well, unless you try to stand.  Of course they are made of Nanotech.  Because of the composition of the Nano-tubes, the density can be completely controlled.  The form you wear on your ankles is harder than titanium.

“Up straight!  Shoulders back!  Head down!  That is the slave position!  Now, follow me into the salon.  Up!  Do not crawl!  You must learn to walk on your knees.  Do not look at any of the ladies or lords, keep your eyes down cast.  In our electronic interviews you stated you were a submissive, well, this is submission.  If you cannot pass this test, then I see no need to continue the interview.  Ah!  Very good!  You are determined to serve.  I will note that in my report.  Almost there… just a few more yards.  You will be surprised how quickly you will learn to move about.  Make your way over to the settee.  You may sit back on your heels.  This is the attending position where you would wait to be of service.  If a lady or lord speaks to you, you will rise up straight and remain in that position until they have stopped talking to you.  Very good!  For this part of the interview, you may remain in the attending position.

“Often we receive requests from submissives to fill our stables and many are very motivated, but when faced with the actual event, a real life commitment, here in front of a real mistress, the reality is overwhelming.  Many decide during this final interview they are not truly submissive.  If this happens to you, simply bow your head and shake your head repeatedly.  I will take notice and terminate the interview and you may leave.  At any time during your slavery you will have the option to leave, except when being punished.  A slave may leave after their punishment has been concluded.  Just know this; once you leave you may never return.  Mistress Safia has numerous candidates who are eager to take your place.

“I know I have not given you an opportunity to talk and that is with good reason.  Slaves are not allowed to talk.  If a slave utters a word they will be punished.  Often slaves will, in their own silent idiom, request for a permanent solution: their tongues surgically altered and their vocal cords cut.  These, of course, are our slaves who have committed themselves to Mistress Safia and will be in service to her for the rest of their lives.  If Mistress Safia acquiesces to the operation, it is considered an honor for the slave since it means that Mistress Safia has also accepted the slave’s life long commitment to her.

“In the interim, however, I cannot risk you accidentally speaking during this interview.  Here on this tray I have some items.  I will set the tray on the floor for you.  That would be your slave’s collar.  It is a training device.  Put that on.  There you go, now click it until it is skin-tight.  Feel for a small stud on the side, very good, yes a pin has popped out.  That pin is a computer-coded key.  Without that key you will wear that collar for the rest of your life.  The key and the collar are made from Nanotech.  While the key is very strong, it can be broken if put in a vice and hit with a hammer.  Either way, we must keep it safe.  I have your pouch here.  Drop that pin into the pouch, but be careful not to touch me.  If you touch me, even by accident, I will terminate the interview and you will be sent home.  

“Very good.  Now, a bit of unpleasantness: hum a few bars for me.  Just random notes, go ahead.  Yes, that was absolutely excruciating.  I’m sorry, but it’s over now.  Come now, back to the attending position.  There you are, all done.  It is an important demonstration.  Only a few mishaps and a slave quickly learns silence is golden, or at least pain free.  The collar uses reverse bioelectrics.  It powers itself by using your own body’s bioelectricity.  It also demonstrates some of the wonderful toys at Mistress Safia’s disposal.

“Next on the tray is a chastity device.  Put it on.  It is self-evident how it goes.  Yes, it is tight.  You’ll have to stuff yourself in.  While you do that, let me explain an important concept:  Slaves are not allowed any sexual pleasure.  They live for the pleasure of the Ladies and Lords of the manor and not for their own gratification.  All slaves wear a device such as this when they join Mistress Safia’s stables.  It weighs only a few grams but it is stronger than tungsten steel.  After a few years of service some of our slaves… wait, let me be clear, all of our slaves who wish to stay, request a bilateral orchiectomy.  This is the surgical removal of the testes.  Many slaves are happy to be relieved of the male burden and the never-ending sexual drive.  Mistress Safia often authorizes a penectomy, the removal of the penis, and scrotoplasty, removal of the scrotum during this procedure.  This leaves the slave with an attractive appearance in the scrotal area.  You may see some of the slaves moving around with their crotch area exposed.  This is a badge of honor and a demonstration of a commitment of life long servitude.  

“We are years away from such a thing.  For today, however, I want you to get a feel for your chastity.  It looks as if you installed it correctly, very nice… now press the little stud and the key will pop out.  There it is!  Here is your pouch.  Carefully drop the key in.  Now while your pouch is open, press the stud for your ankle trainers and retrieve the key for them.  Left, then right and into the pouch they go!  

“My, this is becoming a very valuable pouch!  Without these keys your restraints are permanent.  You would need a high-powered laser or a plasma-cutter to cut Nanotech, and you would probably lose a limb or two in the process.  No matter, your pouch and keys are perfectly safe here on my utility belt.  I will take care to make sure it is within your view so we are all honest here.

“While we’re on the subject of honesty, know that Mistress Safia is unyielding on the subject.  No one in her care, not even a Sub-Mistress like myself, is allowed to lie.  The punishments are quite severe.  You may think, silenced as you are, you are incapable of lying, but it can happen.  A slave can hide things, for example, or intentionally fail to disclose information.  For example, a Lady has mislaid her purse and a slave sees it, but makes no indication to his mistress but instead lets her continue to search for it.  That slave would be punished for lying.  Do you understand?  

“Ah!  Do not speak!  The collar you wear is unmerciful!  There, it is over now.  The pain is already a distant memory, but I hope its lesson will linger with you.  Were it not for that collar preventing you from uttering a single note, this interview would be over.  Lucky you!  Oh, I wore the collar for a month.  The pain is like a lightening bolt right through you.  Ah!  It gives me the shivers thinking about it now. 

“There you are!  Show resolve!  Wipe away those tears.  You’ll never get used to the pain the collar delivers, but you can learn silence.  After a few years the collar could be removed, but your mind would be programmed to be silent.  

 

Permanent Position, Teaser.  Subscribe for the full story!

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