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Pussy Whipped Sissy Slut - Chapter 7
I could not take my eyes from the trio of women that were black clad in leather, rubber and vinyl. Standing to one side was a blonde in her early twenties with a face that on the one hand had chiseled features worthy of a model, and yet at the same time could not conceal the overall harshness that visage projected. There could be no doubt that this was a mistress, one who would not tolerate any deviation from what she knew to be the best for her slaves. I was attracted and at the same time frightened by her aura that projected to well beyond the distance between the two of us. She wore thigh high boots with stiletto heels made of hand-tooled leather. Covering her arms like a second skin were opera length gloves of the same material and color. To complete her costume she wore a pair of black leather bikini panties that seemed to be molded to her pubic mound, and a matching bra showing much of her big firm breasts. The ensemble projected power and a distain for those lesser creatures that made up the majority of this world. I was in awe and fear at the same time.
The tall, hooded, heavyset female standing beside the blonde goddess was another matter altogether. Her bare, upper body was criss crossed with leather straps that acted to control her huge breasts. Thick, heavy rings of some unknown metal were embedded in the flesh of those giants. They were so heavy that they distorted the shape of those massive mounds, making it appear that she possessed a set of sagging tits that belonged on a woman much older than her. Another set of smaller rings were hanging from the long nipples that seemed to be stretched to their limit. It was obvious that this large woman was not a goddess, but like myself, a servant or lower being. She wore crotchless leather briefs with an opened zipper fly that revealed her shaved cunt with its thick fleshy lips that were riddled with rings the size of those hanging from her nipples. I wondered if the poor wretch ever had the opportunity to enjoy a thick cock running in and out of that gash she called a cunt. To complete her outfit she wore platform shoes of rubber or leather; it was difficult to decide which material. Then I noticed that she was shifting her weight from one foot to the other, as if the shoes were pinching her feet. Later I would learn much more about her shoes when I had the opportunity to walk in one pair as well. The pain was excruciating.
Flanking the servant or whatever she was, stood a sharp featured brunette with dark eyes made even darker by the heavy makeup around those orbs. She had high cheekbones and lips painted black, giving her a most sinister look. She wore high heeled rubber boots held in place by a black vinyl garter belt that was located beneath the black, merry widow corset made of leather that emphasized and exposed portions of her large breasts and hour glass figure. To complete her ensemble, she too wore opera length black vinyl gloves. She appeared to be dripping with venom based on her choice of body covering, carriage and countenance. I was fascinated and could barely contain myself from throwing my worthless body at her feet and begging her to do with it as she saw fit. Indeed she would make me suffer greatly, but within reason since I was the property of another mistress.
I was transfixed to the point that I made the terrible mistake of ignoring my temporary mistress, Martina. Vengeance was swift and painful. I was made to stand with legs apart to their limit. She took two quick steps and drove the tip of her boot into my package. I saw flashes of lightning as the pain rolled across my quivering body. I vomited again and again, causing the women to scatter like leaves in a cold wind, and bringing me closer to meeting whatever lay beyond this mostly pedestrian existence that I endured. My gag prevented me from clearing my lungs of vomit and I blacked out, sure that I had seen the last of this world.
For reasons that were beyond my ken, the gods decided to let me remain on this plane for a time. Breathing was a chore, but most movements were terribly painful, especially anything requiring effort from my lower body. For a time my genitals were numb, a blessing that would soon run its course. Gradually I began to realize that I was completely naked. My next discovery was my hands and feet were linked together by chains attached to leather cuffs, forcing me to lie on my belly inches away from my cooling vomit that reeked to the high heavens. Then the toe of a boot slammed into my ribcage making me whimper and cough. It was quickly followed by a voice commanding me to get busy and clean up the mess I'd made. A disembodied hand grabbed my hair and dragged me to the stinking mess and pressed my face into it as she ordered me to lick it up.
As I worked on the foul smelling vomit with lips and tongue, occasionally receiving a kick to my flanks or worse still my testicles, which felt much larger than normal, my ears picked up the sounds of the others. It was difficult under the circumstances to take a glimpse in their direction, especially with mistress Martina watching me. Finally after what seemed like an eternity I had completed my task, or so I thought. My temporary mistress was not satisfied and so I went back over each square inch of the area I had cleaned. Midway in my task another pair of legs came into view. Initially I was perplexed by the sight of sheer black stockings covering shapely legs and a pair of shiny black shoes with stiletto heels. The voice was no help, so I took the risk and looked up, to see the woman who had ushered us here staring down at me.
Before I could react, Martina grabbed me by an ear and began dragging me across the room to where the hooded woman was located, now strapped to a bench featuring a post and two wings, forcing her legs wide apart to the point that I could see them trembling from the strain. It was apparent that she had done something seriously wrong because she was naked and her bare body was criss crossed with fresh markings made by more than one implement based on the types of welt and cuts I could now see more clearly. Her ringed tits were a mess, bleeding in many places and completely covered with a pattern of welts made by a quirt. My poor bottom had often tasted the fury of that little devil, and evidently it was favored in this place as well. Martine ordered me to begin using my tongue on the slave's cunt, and not to stop until she was satisfied that my tongue and lips were totally cleansed of the vomit I had removed from the floor.
The slave wimpered with fear as I began my task. My experience with females was limited, but still there was something amiss with this creature. I had a great deal of difficulty getting past her rubbery cunt lips, and going deeper than the length of my tongue was problematic at best. However I continued this unequal struggle and was given more instructions by my temporary mistress. I sucked hickies into the insides of the female's thighs and was rewarded by some long drawn out moans and a shifting of her naked body against the straps restraining the poor creature. At long last mistress Martina allowed me to rest for a few minutes. Still she had me glued to the cunt mouth of the slave while she and one of the others used riding crops on her big tits, wringing further screams and begging from the slave. When they finished I was pulled away and set to work licking the boots of the other ladies who were quite particular of my efforts and scolded or even struck me with their crops whenever I failed to perfectly follow their instructions.
When the chains linking my hands to my feet were removed, my hopes for some degree of mercy were immediately dashed. Metal handcuffs were used to hold my hands behind my back, and heavy chains connected to the leather cuffs around my ankles. They in turn were attached to a winch that soon had me dangling in the air, my head perhaps six inches from the floor. I was now at their mercy and they showed me none. The brunette began by stroking my cock and fondling my testicles while the others looked on and smirked as my dangling sex organ remained relatively flaccid. She became annoyed and the next thing I knew she was using the leather strap on her crop to whip my testicles and prong. I could smell her aroma and the scent of the leather and rubber garments surrounding me, a very potent stimulus that soon had my sex organ stiffening. The brunette smiled evilly and resumed stroking my cock that was now almost fully erect. Martina joined the fun by placing a cockring around the base of my stiff prong and tightening it until tears came to my eyes. She next noosed my testicles with a narrow band of leather and cinched it tight so that my testicles now seemed like one lump of shining flesh. Martina stepped back to admire her handiwork. I was now ready for whatever torment they planned.
A paper clamp was attached to the head of my cock and I screamed myself hoarse from the pain it created. The nasty bonde mistress decided that another would look good on my swollen testicles. Three times she tried to make one grip the smooth lump of flesh that was now my family jewels so to speak. It was then that the older woman entered the fray and squeezed my nuts until I thought I might vomit. Still they were unable to put a clamp of my sack. However Martina had a better idea, hot wax. She and the others took turns, two at a time, dripping the molten wax from black candles that they moved slowly over my straining balls until they were black as night. I howled, begged, screamed, cursed and prayed aloud for the intense pain to stop, and finally there was so much wax on them, that it insulated my swollen scrotum from the molten wax that followed. I thanked the gods for that small favor. I spoke too soon as the first drop of melted wax fell on the head of my stiff cock. I was so hoarse from yelling that all I could do was grunt and whimper as they waxed every square inch of my straining cock. I don't remember when exactly I passed out, but I recall one of them commenting that my piss hole needed more wax, causing me to tremble uncontrollably as they laughed and lit another fresh candle.
They roused me from my stupor by whipping the wax from my scrotum and cock. It was a nightmare and it only got worse as they lit fresh candles and proceeded to drip molten wax on my sensitized balls and the insides of my stretched thighs. Now they concentrated on the cleft between my buttocks,dripping wax along the region separating the scrotum from the tight ring of muscle protecting my rectum. I went mad from the terrible pain as each drop came closer to landing on my anus. I could only imagine the agony I'd experience if so much as one drop reached that area. I have no idea how long they tormented me in this manner. Closer and closer those fiery drops of molten wax came to my asshole. I begged, pleaded, promised them anything they wished, if only they would spare me the agony that they seemed intent on creating in me.
I knew my time had come when a pair of hands spread my buttocks and a gloved finger began moving around my tight anal passageway. There were a few giggles, that seemed out of character for these demons, then the first drop struck my anus, dead center. I nearly ruptured myself attempting to move my body from the path of those molten kisses of fire. Now there were other hands helping to control my thrashing and so they burned my most sensitive region with drop after drop until the buildup of wax defeated the purpose of coating the area. Somehow I failed to escape into darkness as I had previously. This was noted and mentioned by more than one voice. It evoked laughter or a sort, but I knew better than to think it implied mercy.
Martina couldn't contain herself and so without any fanfare she brought her fist down onto my swollen balls. The pain was unbelievable and of such magnitude that I was unable to speak or even make any sounds at all. That lasted for perhaps a few seconds, but to me it was measured in weeks. I vomited, but only bile was released from my roiling belly. It did not go unnoticed and the blonde goddess stepped up and kicked me in the belly, her pointed boot making it feel as if I had been stabbed with a knife. I brought up some more bile which mixed with the mucous dripping from my nostrils to form a puddle of stinking filth beneath my dangling head. This time they called the slave to take care of the noxious mass I had produced. She slurped it up and then licked the floor until it glistened. All the while I shuddered from the constant pain that radiated from my family jewels and what felt like my roasted anus. It was the hostess who suggested that I be left to hang while they adjorned to another room to freshen up and have something to eat before returning to the task of training their worthless sissy slut captive. I thanked the gods for this respite. Moments later the room was plunged into darkness and I was alone with my thoughts.
( To be continued - rolf palsy )
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