The whips, the knives, the deviance. The room laid out with whispering threats and the unspoken rules of expected behaviours. Suffering breeds obedience, obedience breeds submission, submission does not disappoint.
The door finally opened and there was bright white light after what felt like a lifetime of hanging from the ceiling by the metal trapping my wrists, my ankles chained to the floor and all chances to relax and find comfort long removed. Watching the pair of Them enter with such confidence instantly warmed the room from frightful slaughterhouse to deviant playroom. Adorned in nothing but a thick latex apron, latex thigh high boots and daunting gloves i could make out all Their curves and the arches of Their perfect skin. I could see almost every art upon their naked flesh, the way Their skin shimmered in the usually unflattering light. Such different Dommes and yet equally entrancing in Their beauty and demeanor.
Their very existence a paradox, both beautiful, intelligent, encapsulating. Art painted upon their soft skins and a delightful smile whispering quiet promises of pleasure and pain. Miss with Her youthful innocent appearance taunting me into releasing my protections and Mistress with Her confident glare, Her blonde hair framing an unreadable expression and yet both capable of such unmeasurable tortures, not just capable but enthralled by the art of causing suffering for pleasure. Of enchanting lost rabbits into their wonderland with promises of sweets and delight but failing to mention the torments to be endured first.
As Mistress approached my senses came to life with excitement, She smelt the way a tiger looks when it has awoken from it’s slumber and ready to hunt. Mistress had a plastic bag in hand, swiftly placing it over my stunned disposition. Immediately my body giving away my uncontrollable arousal as the wetness between my legs began to grow and drip down my thighs. The bag hugged me, a reassuring warmth reminding me to relax and give in. Oxygen no longer required as Her talons held it firmly over my face, thrashing would be futile and merely waste the little air i was gifted. Just as my head felt heavy enough to drop without external support the bag was temporarily relieved, smiling at each other for very different reasons i found myself floating in the familiar euphoria of wanting submission. The silence my loud mind craved above all else. As Mistress began lowering the bag once more my peripheral vision noticed Miss collecting a dragon tongue from one of the butcher hooks. Secured around my throat this time the timer had begun. Sharp tears raced against my cold skin, each rubber and nylon connection leaving wounds and burns and scratches that i could only feel. The bag had long filled with the condensation of my heated breath. Attempting to control my breathing i was swiftly losing the game. Breasts whipped, back whipped, biceps whipped, calves whipped and even long strokes wrapping around my core with ferocious intent. Each breath became harder, quicker, less satisfying. Struggling to hold onto the moment i couldn't hear the moans escaping my quivering lips. The bites of rubber intensify with each crack. She burnt Herself into my flesh as though it were acid being painted upon my naked skin. As calmly as it began the whips stopped and the bag torn from my face. My bewildered predicament amusing them both as the first laughs broke out. A joke i was not privy to but apart of all the same. Enslaving me i found myself uttering permissions such as yes Miss, anything You want Miss. Encased in my own cold sweat already, round two quickly commenced.
My flesh once more yielded to the vipers of singletails as Mistress began Her performance with one balanced in each hand. Intoxicating scents of sadistic pleasure aroused my senses, filling me with the bravery i had preyed for. The monotonous pains of the tails snaking across me blurred into the moans. I desperately tried squirming with nowhere to squirm. Forced to remain taut and torn, enduring that which cannot be endured. Eager to assist in my demise, Miss pulled a sharp blade from the air and proceeded to silently place it at my throat. No words need be spoken, Her red lipstick stretching with Her menacing smile as She knew the predicament created. If i attempted to move from the whip i would fall upon a blade leaving me no choice but to remain still and allow the pain to trickle from my eyes. To surrender to them both and the pain they wished for me to withstand.
Inauspiciously hiding my fear from sight, my quivering flesh dripping sweat upon the gilded blade as she ran the course of my throat. Vulnerable, at Their mercy, encapsulated in the depravity of sadistic minds. Laughter filling the small white room like the echoes of an asylum but no insanity lie here. Even as i felt the blood slowly trickle from my body, as i anxiously looked for the tiniest flicker of compassion in Her Hazel eyes but all i could make out is the glittering darkness and the reflection of Mistress about to land another unrelenting kiss upon my already torn up flesh. As my chin fell down at the lack of support each time the steel was removed, i became re-enchanted with Her plentiful bosom that teased me from under the latex. So close to that which i desired and yet as i stood on tip toes tormented at my predicament, knowing that every second i endure the agony of my muscles taut and stretched out by my own bodyweight, my uncompromising pains filled Their faces with joy, my whimpering converted in mischievous grins, my begging for mercy fuelling their continuous violence. Surely Mistress’ arm was beginning to tire by now? I cannot remember when i stopped feining the strength and allowed the tears to run down my cheeks with the freedom owed to such a scene. Miss pulled at my nipples, arching my back and increasing the agony of each kiss of the whip. Unable to make eye contact i became afraid of not being enough, of my masochism failing me, failing to satisfy or satiate what seemed to be a perpetual supply of perversion. Enough to put a smile on the face of Marquis de Sade Himself.
The glaring white of the walls continuously unbalancing my eyes, struggling to focus on any one item for balance i had no choice but to focus on the Queen in front of me. Her delicate finger now wrapping around my throat forcing my glassy eyes to meet the soft gaze of Her own, She appeared entirely unphased by Mistress continuing to strike me. I wouldn’t ever consider either Domme to be in abundance of mercy but the incessant deafening cracks of the single tails left me impervious not to try. my desperation started to seep out my dried lips:
“Please Miss i’ll be a good girl, i promise.”
The futility of such efforts was immediately apparent as Her luscious lips grew into a deviant smile, one hand firmly on my throat and the other toying with a blade so sharp i forgot to breathe for a moment. Perpetual distress balanced on the edge of knife. The sultry tones of Mistress brought me back into the room as She so calmly offered to take a break from whipping to hold my torso still as though They were discussing which drink to order or what Their weekend plans were. So innocently spoken and courteous i for a moment forgot the blade. Her tattooed arms wrapping around and pulling my shoulders back, so close i could feel Her heart pound, Her soft blonde hair meet the open wounds on my back, Her sweet scent fill my head. Relaxation was too much to ask however, as my body softened into Her small but strong frame i felt it. The blade drawing familiar shapes upon my soft torso. The blood once more seeping from my sore quivering body. Mistress raised Her hand slowly over my mouth muffing the cries and moans. A Goddess providing exactly the support i required as a Queen continued carving up my remains. 5 symbols i counted, perhaps a word but what word would i bear for Them. The dulling pain did not stop the tears running from my eyes or the stickiness growing between my thighs as i fought my mind to be silent and surrender to such incomparable beauty. Frustrations overcame me, Her tongue grazing across the fresh wounds forcing my abdomen to flinch despite the erotic moans that escaped me. Red lips now a different shade She stared into me, the fire filling my veins, tearing it’s way through my muscles until all that remained was a carnal lust and craving to be Theirs. Their toy, Their slut, Their animal. The need overcame my face until the tear lines crinkled with a cheeky smile.
Bewitched by one Queen i didn't notice Mistress’ talons until they firmly landed on my right cheek with such force i was snapped back into the moment.
“Now you little slut, can’t have you enjoying yourself too much can We? Miss has kindly marked you as Owned so I think it’s about time we show you what happens to Owned animals that suffer well for us”
Unclipped i fell instantly to the floor, my knees caving under the weight of my bloody flesh. Attempting to look up i barely saw the nefarious smirk glaze over Her tanned skin before a heeled boot connected with my freshly pink cheek forcing my face into the floor, my cheek sliding and grinding on the bloody tiles. My hair barely tied up anymore as i writhed and wriggled as best i could under the inconceivable pressure of such a dainty foot. The pair of them working in intrinsic perfection, never a respite, never a moment of peace to comprehend the level of overwhelming emotion and desire i found myself bearing. Unable to see of move, unwanting to disappoint after i had endured such torment already i felt my ankles thrown apart and legs widened no doubt revealing the evidence of my confused desires. The blood dripping from Her boot down my face was nearly to distract me from the fingers forcing their way into my nether regions, my dripping perter quickly filling with five fingers as i felt Mistress force Herself into me, stuffing me and taking whatever She so desired. My head pulled up by the roots of my hair, back forced into a sharp arch as the other hand remained inside me. My words removed by the consuming pleasures bestowed by Mistress, body fluids dripping everywhere, mixing into highly pheromoned concoction as Mistress forced me to watch as Her Sister in arms was tightening a thick, veined cock into Her shiny harness. Shimmering boots reflecting the chaos of cascading fluids spreading across the floor like an abstract portrait where i for once was the paint and not the canvas. The world swirling into a disarray of euphoria and confusion, the glaring light of the white walls fading away until all that remained was the three of us and the heavy tones of debauchery. Her soft menacing tones teased me into further compliance like a puppy enchanted:
“Do You think Her tight little ass is ready for me Mistress?”
No lube insight, i fearly look back to see Her spit fly onto me already wet ass, an evil smile reassuring me that i was in fact correct and there was going to be no added assistance. Laughing as the firm member pushed its way into me, covered in my own blood and sweat, Her hips dancing against mine, writhing and pushing, Her fingers gripped firmly on my hips so no matter how hard She forced Herself into me i couldn’t escape, couldn’t go anywhere but remain on my knees and gratefully accept the raw fucking like a good girl, like a toy that had no volition of it’s own. My moans filling the room as Miss consumed me in Her ravenous lust, my mouth unable to close, dribbling and relaxed. Barely able to utter the words “Please, Miss”. Words that means nothing other than an acknowledgement of my position as Their toy to do with as They please. With no apparent warning i began to drown, champagne poured straight from the source into my open throat. Tears running down my cheeks as i choked on the sweet, fragrant liquid Mistress was gifting me, Her ammonia filling my mouth, air no longer a necessity as i desperately tried to swallow, to not waste a single drop and yet the thrusting did not halt for even a second. Pinned between two beautiful Dommes, one ravaging my raw bottom, spreading blood over the pair of us and the other hydrating me, drowning me, filling me up with Herself in other ways. As the dick continued to tear through me the champagne missed and soaked my minced skin, burning the open wounds, the stings reverberating throughout my weakened state as i accepted my fate and surrendered to whatever was to happen. Whisperings of good girl, good slut, dirty little toy swirled into my ears, my blurry eyes no longer able to focus but alight with the pride that i was being a good girl. I would take the pain 10x over to hear those whispers again.
Even after the formidable member was removed the champagne did not break from cascading softly over and into me. Miss joined in, elegantly dropping the harness, flipping my weak body onto my back and letting Her luxe showers pour down onto me. A slightly more fragrant twang filling my hungry mouth as i lie collapsed and accepting. Tongue out as often as breaths would allow, my entire being covered in their spit and champagne and my blood, sweat and tears. A masterpiece of filth and debauchery. Smiling to one another they spoke words i could no longer understand. Their sadism satiated i remained quiescence upon the cold, wet tiled floor, unable to move and unwanting to try, watching Their perfect bottoms stroll out the door and into the warmth. If only i could encapsulate the moment in a snow globe, to be played with and kept for an eternity.