Miss Olivia's Chair

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Cruel Asian Domme trains disobedient slaves.
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RedHawke
RedHawke
64 Followers

Miss Olivia was busy applying a leather belt to the ass and legs of her favorite slave, Petra, who was hanging red-faced and helpless by her breasts in Miss Olivia's dungeon. A chime rang, announcing the arrival of a guest to the mansion, but Miss Olivia did not slow down or hesitate for a second, knowing that Bailey would answer the door promptly Bailey certainly didn't want to linger: he had been slow to get the door the day before when Miss Alice had come calling, and Miss Alice was not happy about waiting, since she had her hands full with four slaves on leash. After a particularly painful caning session at the hands of both mistresses, a massive butt plug was forced into Bailey and fixed into place with a small padlock and chain.

Now Bailey had been wearing the cruel plug in his ass for about 10 hours; he was extremely sore and highly constipated, but even though he was having trouble walking, he had scrambled for the door all day. He appeared in the doorway, his tremendous cock hanging below the short skirt of his frilly maid's uniform, to greet the new arrivals: Mistress Althea, a muscular, light-skinned black woman with close-cropped, cocoa hair and a spray of cinnamon freckles across her cheeks that made her look incredibly cute, hiding her rather fierce true nature, was bringing her slave girl, Shonda, for punishment. Shonda's pale white skin contrasted brilliantly with her lustrous mane of thick, auburn hair. She was beautiful, tall and leggy, and could have been a supermodel except that her breasts were gigantic. She made a fortune modeling lingerie, though, and she kept Mistress Althea in high style.

Shonda had gotten a bit lazy and impertinent, lately, and although Althea certainly knew how to rein in her slave girl and wasn't squeamish about applying punishment when it was deserved, she understood that sometimes misbehaving children will mind a stranger when they disobey their own parents. This was common sense, and masters and mistresses frequently brought their charges to Miss Olivia, for she was easily the cruelest mistress they knew, and any slave subjected to her harsh (and sadistically creative) ministrations experienced a complete attitude adjustment. Some slaves wept with relief upon being returned to the very owners whom they had resented not long before. Slaves came back from a chastening by Miss Olivia in a very, very obedient frame of mind.

Now it was Shonda's turn. Bailey welcomed them into the mansion, noticing the slave girl's seemingly nonchalant attitude and her unconcealed smirk at his maid's dress. Even if that blasé expression were just for show, Bailey thought, Miss Olivia would soon wipe it off the busty redhead's face. He smiled to himself despite the throbbing ache in his rectum as he limped along, guiding the visitors deep into the mansion. He had been very well-behaved since yesterday's mishap, and he was hoping he might be allowed to watch the beautiful slave get her punishment. He had been listening to Petra being beaten, and he was curious to see what kind of shape she was in.

When Bailey and the guests reached the dungeon, they could hear Petra's high screams coming from behind the heavy black door, accompanied by the delicious slap of leather against soft, defenseless flesh. Bailey rang the call chime at the dungeon door, and after two or three more slaps and yelps, Miss Olivia buzzed them to enter. Ever-observant Bailey had watched the slave girl drop her defiant front like a hot rock upon hearing the screams of pain coming from beyond the door, and when they entered the torture chamber, her apprehension turned to fear at the sight of Petra hanging helplessly by her breasts, which were wrapped tightly around and around with leather straps that wound around a sturdy chain, suspending her neatly from a steel hook in the ceiling, one of many such hooks around the room. Petra's backside was bright red, with visible welts crisscrossing her back, ass, and legs. Her body was glazed with sweat and tears were streaming down her face as she struggled to control her choking sobs.

Mistress Althea smirked at her slave's horrified expression on observing the beaten Petra, but she moved quickly to discipline the girl. "Eyes down!" she barked, snapping a leather strap smartly across Shonda's ass. The slave dropped her head quickly, red hair fluffing forward over her face.

"This stupid bitch has come to be taught how to follow orders better," Althea said to Miss Olivia, who was sizing up the well-endowed girl. Olivia, being of Asian descent, was not tall—only about 5 feet, but to her slaves she seemed a giant, towering in her malevolence.

"Despite what you see at the moment," Althea continued, "She's not as humble as she should be. It's quite clear she needs desperately to learn some humility from a capable teacher. Will you accept the slut as your student?"

"Is she fit to learn?" Miss Olivia purred. She had a decidedly dangerous purr.

"She is," answered Althea, assuring Miss Olivia with these words that her slave was healthy enough to endure the treatment, physically and mentally.

"I accept her," Olivia said. "Bailey, show Mistress Althea out and return to me."

Bailey showed Mistress Althea to the door and collected her payment, in advance, for Miss Olivia's session with Shonda. No one ever complained about paying in advance, because no one was ever dissatisfied with Miss Olivia's service. They knew it was money well spent.

When Bailey returned to the dungeon, Miss Olivia ordered him to free the groaning Petra from her bonds. "After she is untied, put her in her cage," Olivia commanded. Bailey was disappointed to hear that Petra was going into the cage, because that meant she would be allowed to watch the festivities. Bailey wished that he could be the one in the cage, but he had to admit Petra had paid a very high price of admission for that coveted place. He had to content himself with enjoying the sight of Petra, beaten and helpless, and he took the opportunity to squeeze her tortured ass and titties and to pinch and twist her nipples as he untied her and lifted her down to the floor. Bailey didn't mind wearing a dress and loved to get fucked in the ass, but he was all man, and his cock swelled as he ran his hands over the sweat-drenched body of the slave girl. He wished he could have fucked her brains out while she was still hanging from the ceiling. His mistress did let him stuff his giant dick into Petra from time to time, so he could be patient.

Miss Olivia watched Bailey fondling Petra with amusement. Although he was trying to be furtive about it, she noticed the groping, but it didn't matter. She knew Bailey was sad that the place of honor had gone to Petra today, but he didn't complain. He had been well-behaved, so allowing him to take Petra down was a reward for his good behaviour. She knew very well that he would cop a feel; that was part of the reward. Petra, as worn-out and beaten-up as she was, couldn't struggle against Bailey's naughty, seeking hands, but she wouldn't make a sound to rat him out to the mistress. She didn't even complain when he picked her up and carried her to the cage, stuffing two fingers up her ass in the process.

After Petra was secured in the cage and Bailey reluctantly left the dungeon, Miss Olivia turned her attention to Shonda, who had stood in place with her eyes downcast, waiting. She hoped a strong show of obedience would help temper the bad report her mistress had given to Miss Olivia, and that her punishment wouldn't be too severe. She didn't know Miss Olivia.

Without preamble, Miss Olivia barked, "Remove every stitch of your clothing." Shonda complied without argument; even though she felt vulnerable, this was a typical request. She unzipped her skintight black latex minidress and let it fall, revealing lacy thong panties and nothing else. Her full, juicy breasts jiggled as she pulled the panties down, revealing a silver ring piercing her labia, and Miss Olivia took stock of her round, perfect ass as she bent to remove her shoes. She straightened and awaited further orders.

"Walk straight ahead," Miss Olivia commanded, planting the tip of her riding crop against the small of Shonda's back. Feeling the leather switch make contact with her bare skin spurred the girl forward hastily. She kept her eyes down but raised enough to see several feet ahead. She walked about 12 feet, with Miss Olivia's crop at her back all the while, until she came to a small platform about three feet square and about four inches high. Fastened to the platform with clamps on each leg was a plain, straight-backed wooden chair. Unsure, Shonda hesitated.

"Step up," came the brusque command, accentuated with a sharp flick of the crop on Shonda's ass. She stepped up quickly. She thought Miss Olivia must want her to sit in the chair, so she started to turn in order to seat herself, but she was swiftly redirected by a sharp blow from the crop.

"Assume nothing! I did not say to sit. Follow orders only." Olivia's voice was perfectly modulated, but very severe. "Face the chair. Now, bend over and put your hands down on the seat. Slide forward until your belly is on the seat."

Olivia used her crop to direct Shonda's movements on the chair. When she was positioned correctly, Shonda found herself with her knees on the platform, her belly on the seat of the chair, and her upper body extending out through the opening in the back of the chair—her arms were forward and down, and her pendulous breasts dangled heavily off the back edge of the seat.

"Hold your position," Miss Olivia directed. As Shonda lay face-down on the chair, she noticed several things on a table nearby: half a dozen lengths of rope, a pair of single clamps, each on a steel chain about six inches in length; and a cat-o'-nine-tails whip with a thick, 10-inch dildo as a handle. As she was registering these items in her mind with growing horror, Miss Olivia had already exchanged her riding crop for a length of rope, and pulling Shonda's arms up and behind her head, lashed them firmly to the top rung of the chair back.

As Shonda trembled at the sight of the cruel whip, Miss Olivia secured her further to the chair by tying another rope tightly around her waist, pinning her to the seat. As Shonda cringed at the size of the black latex cock that served as the cat's handle, Miss Olivia tied the slave's knees to each of the chair's front legs, lifting her ass and spreading her open to whatever the mistress wished to do. As Shonda wondered how the evil-looking little clamps came into play, Miss Olivia used the last of the rope to bind her generous breasts, squeezing them cruelly. Miss Olivia then took each clip and clamped it tightly onto each of Shonda's already-throbbing nipples. She then pulled the chain down so that it would loop securely around each chair leg below the wooden cross-support, which prevented the chains from sliding upward, thus keeping Shonda's nipples stretched painfully downward.

Her tortured nips were already screaming in agony, but Shonda tried to keep her mind off them, knowing she could be in this spot for a while. She closed her eyes and started to fantasize about Mistress Althea, knowing the more turned on she was, the more pain she could take. She'd gotten about 30 seconds into a hot scene with her tongue up Mistress Althea's ass when the cat-o'-nine-tails slashed across her back, snapping her out of her reverie and definitely taking her mind off of her aching breasts.

Over and over the whip slashed down on the helpless slave girl, in no regular rhythm and always in a different spot so that she could not really steel herself against the blows. Miss Olivia never drew blood, but she was an expert at administering the longest possible beating without causing damage, but plenty of pain, by spacing out her blows in this way. The mental cruelty, after all, was the most important part of one of her sessions with disobedient slaves.

Shonda's pale skin pinkened quickly, then reddened, as the blows from the cat covered her ass, back, and thighs. Sometimes the knotted tips of the cat's "tails" flicked her exposed pussy lips, and the sting of this was worse than the broadest lashes across her ass or legs. She cried, then begged, as her skin turned redder, then, as Miss Olivia began to raise painful welts, she screamed. There was no response from the mistress to any of Shonda's screams for mercy—she stayed silent and let her implacable whip speak for her.

Petra watched intently from her cage. She was not allowed to touch herself, but she had already been brought to orgasm twice so far, just as she had when she was being beaten herself. The only difference was that then she could scream as loud as she wanted, and now she must stay silent. This caused a feeling of intense pressure in her head as an explosive orgasm rocked her, but she kept her mouth clamped tightly shut. Seeing Shonda's breasts tied so tightly while her own still throbbed turned her on so much! Every time the lashes hit her, the girl on the chair jerked in pain, yanking her breasts and nipples against the clamps and the ropes. Petra knew Shonda wasn't feeling that now, but once the beating was over, all that incidental abuse would have accumulated, setting her tits on fire.

With her breasts and nipples throbbing in sympathy with Shonda's, Petra fantasized that she was the one on the chair. Every strike of the cat made her own recently-gained welts sing out, and she enjoyed the sensation that the pain and experience of her own beating continued, with no actual damage to her body. She recalled the feeling of Bailey's fingers jammed up her ass and wished she could push her own fingers in, but she kept her hands resolutely clinging to the bars across the top of the cage. She kept her hands close together, pretending they were handcuffed to the cage above her head, as they were, sometimes. She wished Bailey had done that to her, but he wasn't authorized to do anything he was not told to do by the mistress. Instead, he had finally pulled his fingers from Petra's ass, smeared them across her face, and closed the heavy door with a clank.

Finally, the slash of the whip stopped, and the screams diminished to anguished sobs. Between hitching breaths, Shonda cried out, "Thank you, thank you, Mistress." Olivia let her cry for a while, then asked in her smooth, dark voice, "Who owns you, slave?"

"You do, Mistress," whined the slave girl.

"Incorrect," Miss Olivia growled, then delivered three vicious slashes directly to Shonda's pussy. The girl screamed louder than ever, and wailed, "Mistress Althea! Mistress Althea owns me!"

Miss Olivia stilled the cat again. "I'm sorry," blubbered the slave girl," Mistress Althea owns me."

"That is correct, yet the first answer you gave indicates you are just saying what you think I want to hear." She slashed the whip against the tender labia again to punctuate this. "You must continue to take punishment until you learn to stop manipulating and speak the simple truth."

"Oh, no, no, please! I'll tell the truth, I promise! I'll tell the truth!"

But Miss Olivia had already returned to her silent state. She did not continue to whip Shonda, though; she had something else in store. She walked over to a supply shelf and retrieved an accordion bottle of lubricant, then returned to the chair on the platform. Shonda, facing the other way, could not see what she had gone to get, and cried and moaned with terror, imagining all sorts of dire things. She had no idea what Miss Olivia was capable of! She longed for Mistress Althea. She would do anything Mistress Althea said, would drink her piss with a twist of lime and a smile, if only she survived this nightmare.

She felt a cool blob of lubricant squirt against her asshole. Then the plastic nozzle, about two inches long, slid into her rectum. This felt good, and she enjoyed the sensation as Miss Olivia filled her ass with the entire contents of the squeeze bottle. Even so, she knew the lube could only mean she was going to get something up her ass. Mistress Althea frequently made her wear a butt plug while she ate the black woman's pussy. Once, she had fallen asleep with the plug up her ass, and when she woke up about four hours later, it was sore as hell, but Mistress Althea had made her keep it up her butt while she fucked Shonda's pussy with a large strap-on. She came like crazy, but it hurt worse afterward. That was about the meanest thing Mistress Althea had ever done, and now that she understood what real mean was, that particular experience was nothing!

Once again, Shonda's thoughts of her mistress were rudely interrupted. Miss Olivia had turned the cat-o-nine-tails around and was rubbing the end of the huge dildo against Shonda's tight, slippery anus. She had seen the evil whip-handle and knew that she could never take anything that large up her butt. She cried and tried to struggle, but she was tied up so tightly that all she could do was a ridiculous little wiggle of her ass. This was enough to piss Miss Olivia off, though, and without any further preliminaries she shoved the huge dildo up the slave's ass in one go.

Shonda screamed again as she was impaled by the huge cock. In the cage, Petra's body shuddered with another powerful orgasm at the sound of Shonda's screaming as Miss Olivia viciously sodomized her. Miss Olivia sat astride Shonda's back as though she were simply sitting in the chair the slave girl was bound to. She had one leather-clad leg on each side of the slave and faced her ass so that she could plunge the giant dildo into the wailing girl with two hands. Miss Olivia was a small woman, but her tight muscles rippled with strength as she violated Shonda's ass over and over. The beautiful Asian mistress was always very much in charge.

Shonda's screams subsided after a while; she was too exhausted to do much more than gasp and sob as the tears ran down her reddened cheeks and the dildo ravaged her throbbing ass. Finally, Miss Olivia pushed the dildo in extra far and left it. Shonda uttered a moan when the huge cock went deep into her bowels, but she didn't try to beg or bargain with Miss Olivia any more. She just lay helpless, pinned under the body of the mistress, bound inescapably to the hateful chair, her body blazing, crying miserably. She was completely helpless and she knew it.

"Who do you belong to, Slave?" Miss Olivia asked, her voice calm and cool.

"Mistress Althea," Shonda replied, barely able to manage more than a whisper.

"Do you want to be released?"

"Yes, please, Mistress."

"Are you willing to earn your freedom?" Miss Olivia teased. Shonda was exhausted and her back, her ass and her breasts were raging with pain. She couldn't imagine being able to take another damn thing, but what was the alternative? She was a slave, and she finally knew her place. Whatever it was that she had to do, she would do it.

"Yes, Mistress."

With a small nod of approval, Miss Olivia climbed off of Shonda's back. The slave girl was still helplessly bound, tits clamped and ass crammed, but getting the pressure off of the whip marks on her back was a great relief. At this point, she would take whatever relief she could get!

The mistress walked over to the door of the dungeon and pressed the call buzzer. "Yes, Mistress," Bailey's voice came over the speaker.

"Come to the dungeon, Bailey. I want your help."

"Right away, Mistress."

In a few minutes, Shonda heard the buzzer, and the door opened. She couldn't see the doorway from her position, but she imagined Bailey standing there, in proper slave posture, eyes cast down, awaiting orders. She thought about how if she had shown such respect to her own beloved mistress, she wouldn't be in this awful dungeon, beaten and tortured and fucked so hard she could barely remember her name.

"Slave Boy, you disappointed me yesterday, but you have taken your punishment well," Miss Olivia told Bailey as she led him over to where Shonda was tied to the cruel chair, "As you know, I am not against rewarding slaves who have performed admirably. I am going to allow this lowly slut to suck you off."

RedHawke
RedHawke
64 Followers
12