17 More Days

Princess Miranda needed a rest. She ended the treatment with three quick blows to the same side, that made Donna jump and squeal. Then, Miranda approached me and said:

"It is very awkward for me to ask this, but why are you really doing this? Do you want to get back at her? Is it for revenge?"

I looked at Princess and answered honestly:

"No. I don't want revenge. She is working me outstandingly well. She is very fair. My chastity and submission are true gifts, not taken by abuse. I just want her to experience the kind of delightful feelings that she herself has pushed me into."

"Are you sure? You can speak up truly, now. She can't hear you. Do you want me to bring her to tears? I can do that. Or do you want me to force her to apologize to you for something?"

"No, not at all, Princess Miranda. I just want her to fully enjoy the experience I just described and this is the best scenario I could think of that could accomplish it. That's all."

"Ok, let's make her enjoy this experience, then," she said, choosing a whip and cracking it a couple of times. Miss Donna didn't react, I guess she really couldn't hear a thing.

She did react when the first blow bit her left thigh. She swung right and whimpered through her gag. I was beside myself with desire. I wish I had taken her place and receive the pain to protect the body I adored so much.

Princess kept going. She found a steady rythme, pausing between strokes to let Miss Donna catch her breath. The day's victim was alternating between moans, sighs and heaving.

My anguish grew more, until I reached an invisible threshold. I heard my mouth saying out loud, almost against my will:

"Please, Princess..."

Miranda stopped, looking at me squarely for having interrupted her.

"What?"

The next words I said were a kind of synthesis of everything that was working through me at that time: worry for Miss Donna's well being, immeasurably repressed sexual tension, desire to please, and guilt at having bothered Miranda's ritual, all mixed into a single phrase:

"May I please take her place, Princess Miranda?"

"Oooh..." the vixen said, with a mocking smile. "You want to save her, now? And you feel brave enough to stand my whip?"

Words had left me. Princess's gaze and attitude had gagged me already. I just nodded.

Miranda took her time making us switch places. She sat Miss Donna in an armchair, to rest, and they kissed profusely. Miranda went down on her victim, eating her pussy as I watched on, until my Donna came loudly. I felt happy for both of them. That happiness was short lived. The hood took away my vision, my mouth got filled up with an inflatable, and my ears were shut off.

There was a pause.

It dawned on me that, during this pause, and taking advantage of my mummified state, Miranda was asking Miss Donna the same question she had asked me, if my Mistress wanted revenge or not, if she wanted me to shed tears or not...

I didn't dare make up any possible answers. My reverie was broken by the first crack of the whip. It felt like a cutting wound across my back. I managed not to yell, but just gulped hard. The second stroke hit the front of my thighs. It must have been aimed at my cage, I supposed, and I was so very grateful that the metal shield had protected my most sensitive parts, for the pain was, this time, unbearable. I couldn't help releasing a shriek. The most awkward shriek I ever encountered : a silent one. The whole effort recoiled around itself in a muffled « Gggghhh », until I was out of breath. I wanted to yell again, harder, hoping to alert my tormentor that this was too difficult to take... Before I was able to scream, another blow hit my ass. I couldn't believe how painful it was, especially since my skin was still remembering the earlier rattan cane. I yelled as hard as I could. And another blow to my ass was the reply. It broke me. I started crying uncontrollably. And yet more blows landed. My body ached all over with a parching sensation, while my insides were boiling with a different kind of heat, the fire of unsatisfied lust.

After a while (who knows how long?), it was over.

I regained my senses, one by one, and Princess Miranda let me recover in a corner. I couldn't sit, nor lie on my back, because of the burning and welts on my rump. I coiled on a mattress in a fetal position. Donna came and hugged me. Aftercare had always been one of her strong points. She kissed my face, which felt like the only part of my body that had been spared. She then proceeded to kiss my chastity cage, and to lick it up and down. She looked me in the eye, and said:

"Enjoy this. You deserve it."

She placed my hands on her and let me caress her freely, as she kept licking the metal bars and the flesh that protruded between them. I fondled her breasts and neck, and I was going crazy.

"Enough of that", Princess intervened. "Get over here", she directed me and tied me to the caning chair again. That's when I first noticed Miss Donna was wearing a strapon and gloves.

Out came my glass plug. Then, Donna lubed my ass and entered me forcefully, stretching me to my limits. I was grateful the plugging had provided some exercise ahead of this.

The initial light pain quickly turned to a dull pleasure, growing more and more powerful, radiating throughout my pelvis. Princess Miranda stood by and she scrutinized the marks that her whip had left on my back. Her sadistic manner pushed her to comment upon the size and depth of the welts, as well as insights regarding those that might leave scars.

That did it. I felt I was losing it at one point, and tried to give some warning to make Miss Donna stop stimulating me. All I could find was a pathetic "Please... Please... No. Please. Please..."

Mistress got the message and pulled out, but it was too late. My fluids started dribbling out after a few seconds, making me spasm on the stool, untouched.

True to her word, Miranda set on dispelling me straight away. She gagged me first and undid the cuffs, relocking them behind my back, then she led me down a short hallway and pushed me inside a small dog cage, which only allowed me to squat. She padlocked the cage, turned off the lights and went away.

I don't know what happened next between her and Miss Donna. But it was quite a long time.

Later, after we got home, as we were resting in bed and chatting, my cage pulsating with unfinished business, Miss Donna explained:

"Well, actually we had taken too long, and the next customer had arrived and Miranda decided to let me take part, and we went on playing with him. Unlike you, he was not wearing a chastity cage, and he took his strapon without spurting. He was very disciplined and deserving. Also, I was really hot and horny. You see where this is leading to, don't you? Remember I had locked you non stop for several days. I'm sure you understand it was starting to take a toll on me and my needs. So Miranda and I both agreed that I should cuckold you. Which I did. I didn't feel like using a condom, so he gave me a nice creampie. I am sure there ought to be some leftovers for you to enjoy. You are not upset are you, dear?"

"Well, actually, yes I am!" I started getting up. "This was not part of the deal, and I am still in charge, and as a matter of fact..."

"Shhh!" Miss Donna purred. "I know you've always been fantasizing about being cuckolded, stop putting on a show. And, besides, look at the clock! You are not in charge anymore. The 24 hours are up since four minutes ago. So. What were you saying?"

I looked at the clock. She was right.

"It doesn't matter what I was saying, Mistress. Please, may I lick your pussy clean right away?"

"How much time should I add to your current lock, in return for that favor?"

"Please add one day for every minute it takes me to make you cum, Mistress!"

"Good boy," she said, caressing my hair and parting her legs. "I will start the chronometer right now. Get to work!"

And that's the story of how my lock got extended by 17 more days.

Disclaimer : this fantasy was written as a task for my lovely, thoughtful, cultivated and dedicated keyholder, Miss Donna, and published with her consent..

Here is a copy of Her initial assignment:

"Good afternoon @everyone. I'm not staying online right now, so don't get your hopes (or fears) up for an afternoon of teasing. I've got other things to do. But I do have an assignment for you. A thought experiment, if you will.

Here's the setup. You and I are a couple. FLR, obviously. We've made some sort of playful bet. The stakes: winner gets to do whatever they want to the other for an entire 24 hours. The only rule: you stay caged, win or lose. And it seems I've lost. So all the toys, ropes, restraints, clothes, food, beverages and everything else in the house are yours to use on, with, for or against either of us. You're in charge for the next 24 hours, little locked slave. What ya gonna do to, with or for big bad Mistress? What ya gonna make *me* do? The only limits: your cage and your imagination. Write it up, horny little slut dogs. Give me something entertaining to read when i come back online."