Coming Home; Coming Out Ch. 09

"Oh yes," agreed Sara. "It doesn't come as standard with the cock lock, but the lady in the sex shop who sold it to us said that she could tell that I was a serious player when it came to keeping my husband in chastity. She suggested that for a few extra pounds, I could have this second restraining ring."

"It goes on first, and you pull each ball through its own restraining loop. Then you put the second ring on, her cock goes through that and they fit together. Then the silicon sheath goes on and fits onto the restraining rings, the padlock goes through there, and bingo! You have a cock locked sissy cuckold!"

Sara continued the story.

"It really was so amusing when I took him to get a new cock lock. Oh, Paula! Look at me stealing your thunder! Let's go into the sitting room and you can regale Mistress and Master with your tale of being taken to buy a new cock lock!"

"Good idea," said John, adding, "I'll just go and organise C C into getting us some pre-party drinks. Don't start without me! I won't be long."

John was as good as his word. He returned promptly with C C in tow, carrying a tray with a gin and tonic for everybody. When the drinks had been served C C was permitted to kneel between his owners who were sat side by side on a large settee. Everyone looked expectantly at Paula.

She cleared her throat, and smiled at C C.

"I've been allowed to relate the story of when I was taken to buy this cock lock," he began, as a way of bringing C C up to date.

"Goddess Sara wanted me to wear a pretty pink one to parties, as befits my sissy status," she began.

"I was instructed to do some research, and I found this model on-line. When I showed my Goddess, she made some enquiries at a sex shop some miles away from where we live, and I drove there with my Goddess."

"I was given my instructions on the way, so when we entered the shop, I went straight up to the counter and asked the assistant for a pink silicon cock lock."

"Paula," interrupted Sara, "either you tell this story properly, or I'll put you over my knee now and give you a severe spanking. Tell Mistress and Master the whole story!"

Paula blushed a deep red, and her pink cock lock twitched.

"There was a young Lady behind the counter," said Paula quietly, "and when my Goddess and I entered the shop I had been instructed to explain to whoever was serving that my Goddess required me to be cock locked."

"I explained that I had a problem because most cock locks were too big and roomy to be effective. I needed the smallest size available, in pink. Could she help me, please?"

"The young assistant ignored me and spoke to Goddess Sara. She rolled her eyes and said that her own slave was very poorly endowed too, but she'd found the perfect cock lock for him. She took us to the enforced chastity section of the shop, and handed Goddess Sara a box which, when she opened it, contained this cock lock."

"Goddess smiled and informed the young lady that we'd take it. I was instructed to pay for it, and when we'd bought it, Goddess asked if we could use the changing rooms for her to fit it. The young lady pointed them out, and said that if Goddess needed any help, she knew exactly how to put one of those on a slave."

"When Goddess tried to put it on me, I had a hard-on because I was so excited to please her. She asked the young assistant to come and help her, but she had to get the manager, because she wasn't allowed to leave the shop unattended."

"In the end, there were three Ladies attempting to put my cock lock on. The manager got some cold spray, and she sprayed my cock and balls, which did the trick. Then she suggested to Goddess Sara that we purchase the extra attachment that keeps my balls separate. Goddess agreed straight away, and that's how I come to be wearing my sissy pink cock lock tonight."

"Fuck, Sara you are such an evil bitch!" giggled Denise. "That is such a lovely story. I bet you loved that humiliation, didn't you Paula?"

"Yes Mistress. I really did," replied Paula enthusiastically.

Sara patted her sissy cuckold on the head and smiled at her. At that moment, the telephone rang. Without waiting to be told, C C got to his feet and went to answer it. As he left, John muttered,

"With a bit of luck, some disaster has overtaken this country, and the deputy PM has been called to Downing Street to save us all," he said with a grim smile.

C C returned and spoke to his Master.

"It's for you, Master. The caller won't identify herself."

With a hopeful sigh, John got up to take the telephone call.

He soon returned, shaking his head.

"It was her," he reported, "she's on her way. She was calling to check she had the right address. The crafty bitch phoned from the telephone box down the road, so there'll be no record of her speaking to anybody here if anything goes wrong."

He sat down, looking as miserable as sin.

Denise reached over and stroked his cock, which immediately sprang into life.

"Look," she began, stimulating his little cock gently, "we're here, Sara and her slut are here and you-know-who and her slave are going to be here very shortly. Let's try and make the best of things, shall we? You never know. You might get to fuck the deputy Prime Minister!"

John's grunt of amusement was interrupted as they heard a car pulling into the driveway, and a few seconds later, the doorbell rang. John looked at Denise helplessly.

"Chin up, and for fuck's sake smile!" she whispered, clicking her fingers to send C C to answer the door to her guest.

They sat in silence and waited, looking nervously at one another.

"Fucking hell, this is like being back in school and waiting outside the head teacher's office!" said Sara and her comment broke the tension. Everyone was still giggling when the door opened, and C C announced their guest.

"Mistress P and her slave," he said in a suitably low voice. John got to his feet and held out his hand in welcome.

"Thank you so much for agreeing to attend our little get-together," he said nervously. "You remember my wife, Denise? And this is a friend from way back when, Sara. Can our house slave get you a drink?"

"Champagne," retorted the new arrival, "but only if it is Dom Perignon." She ignored John's outstretched hand and looked at C C.

"Well, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to take my coat, and then fuck off to get me my champagne?" she said coldly.

C C helped her off with her coat, and went to get her a drink as instructed. Sara admired her short leather skirt, topped with a leather waistcoat that barely contained her ample tits. She sat down and her slave positioned herself on her hands and knees in front of her. Mistress P put her feet up on her slave and sat back in the chair.

"Is this it?" she asked incredulously. "I thought I was coming to a fetish party, not a fucking wake!"

"Several of our friends have bad to cancel at the last moment, I'm afraid," Denise said apologetically.

"But Sara is here and she has offered her sissy slave for your entertainment and pleasure. John will watch, as usual, but if you wanted to play with C C instead, that would be fine as well. You decide, as you're the honoured guest!"

Mistress P smiled at this last remark. She considered the options.

"Well, based on first impressions," she said sweetly, "your house slave is a waste of space. How long does it take to pour a glass of champagne, for fuck's sake?"

She turned her attention to Paula, who was kneeling quietly at Sara's side.

"What do you do, sissy boy?" she enquired.

"Whatever I'm told," answered Paula, which brought a smile to the questioner's lips.

Sara said, "Paula is my cuckold slut. She's very good at oral worship and clean up. She's also a pain slut, so you might like to test her limitations."

"Oh I doubt that Paula could match this cunt for accepting pain," Mistress P kicked her slave hard in the side. There was a grunt of pain, but as the crouching figure was totally enclosed in a gimp suit, only her eyes could be seen.

Mistress P considered the situation, and when C C returned, bearing her drink on a tray, she accepted it without a word of thanks.

"If it's only going to be us," she said, sipping her drink appreciatively, "I have a proposal. This cunt is due a severe thrashing for something she did last Wednesday. You might have seen it?"

Everyone looked at her in amazement. Sara had never met Mistress P before, and Denise and John hadn't seen her since the party in Surrey. How could they possibly be aware of what Mistress P's slave had done, or not done?

"Perhaps it would give you a clue if she took off her gimp suit," Mistress P said, swinging her legs to the floor and kicking the slave between ber open legs.

"Get up and strip, cunt," she instructed. "Leave the helmet till last."

The slave got to her feet and quickly began to strip. Sara's eyes widened in amazement as the slave's body was revealed. She had obviously undergone sustained and brutal punishment recently.

Her ample arse bore the scars of a severe caning. The skin had obviously been split at some point and the bloody welts were healing slowly. Both arse cheeks were also a mixture of new and old bruises, and ranged in colour from black through purple to yellow.

But what really caught Sara's attention were her cunt piercings. Both labia were pierced four times with thick and heavy looking metal rings. Each pair were linked together so that to all intents and purposes, the slave's cunt was locked and impenetrable. As if to reinforce this, on her mons was tattooed the message, 'Ms P's cunt. Keep out!'

The slave turned around to reveal a large pair of tits, which, like her arse, were heavily bruised and scarred. Her areolas were pierced with rings similar to the ones in her cunt, and each of her nipples had a barbell through it. To Sara's medical eye, those tits looked like they had received a great deal of punishment.

Mistress P saw the amazement on the watcher's faces and laughed.

"You still haven't got a clue, have you?" she asked, and stood up. She slapped her slaves hands down from the laces which held her hood in place and immediately the slave put her arms at her sides. Mistress P stood behind her slave.

"This cunt is going to suffer so much for humiliating me," she said, resting her chin on the slave's shoulder, and reaching round to cup her tits. She gripped each nipple ring and tugged sharply, drawing a hiss of pain from her slave.

"She thought she was being clever," Mistress P continued, tugging each nipple ring in time to each word she spoke.

"But of course, you three haven't a clue who my cunt is, have you?"

She unlaced the hood and whipped it off. Denise gasped, John muttered "Fucking hell!" Sara, who was becoming more and more disturbed by Mistress P's behaviour, bit her tongue and said nothing, but inside her head she registered that the battered and bruised slave was in fact one of the political correspondents of the BBC. Sara seemed to recall reading earlier in the week that she'd interviewed the deputy PM for a current affairs programme, and had tied her up in knots after asking some particularly tricky questions about the current government's intentions for bills to be presented in Parliament.

"Go and get my bag from the boot of my car," instructed Mistress P, "and if some passer-by happens to catch a glimpse of you whilst you're doing it, so much the better.."

The slave, who everybody now recognised, and whose name was June, hurried off, her cunt rings jingling. She returned carrying a supermarket bag, which looked very full.

Handing it go her Mistress, she received a hard slap to the face, which she took silently.

"Too long, cunt," hissed Mistress P. "That's going to cost you. Lie down and open your legs."

June obeyed instantly. Mistress P meanwhile looked at C C.

"You!" she snapped, pointing at him, "go and fetch me a pair of rubber washing up gloves from the kitchen!"

When C C looked at his Mistress and Master for permission, Mistress P yelled at him,

"Are you fucking deaf? Or daft? Or just fucking disobedient? I gave you an instruction. Now fuck off and do what I've just told you to do, or you'll be on the end of one of my punishments. And believe me, you won't enjoy it!"

Denise gave C C a discrete nod, and he hurried off to the kitchen. Mistress P looked at John.

"If you take my advice, you'll either train that fucker properly, or you'll dismiss him," she said with an insincere smile. "Slaves shouldn't be allowed to hesitate."

"C C has been with us for a number of years. He suits our needs very well, thank you," replied Denise stiffly, managing to keep her tone civil, although it was obvious that she was fuming at C C's treatment by her guest.

Meanwhile, Mistress P, who seemed not to have heard Denise's reply, was unlocking June's cunt rings with a key taken from a chain that hung round her neck.

As the last pair of rings were unlocked, C C returned, carrying a pair of yellow washing up gloves. He handed them to Mistress P, who took them without a word of thanks.

She pulled them on, and flexed her fingers, ensuring that all the air had been expelled. Then reaching inside the bag that June had retrieved from the car, she pulled out a bunch of stinging nettles. She shook them in front of C C and grinned.

"You can experience the delicious pain these impart if you like," she told him.

"Watch and learn!"

She swished the bunch of nettles across June's tits, which drew a moan of pleasure from her lips.

"Thank you, Ma'am," she said lustily. Her owner giggled.

She repeated her action, but this time as well as swishing the nettles she swatted each tit as well. Sara, who was seated close to the prone slave could see her nipples harden as an angry red rash started to develop on June's ravaged tits. She felt her own nipples react, and the fire in her cunt began to glow.

Mistress P continued to whip June's tits, and soon, underneath the red bloom, little white dots began to appear in places where the nettles were applied most frequently. June was whimpering with every stroke now.

Mistress P stopped and regarded the bunch of nettles in her hand.

"The only problem is they soon lose their potency," she said to her audience.

"Isn't it a good job I brought a whole load of these!" She gave a throaty chuckle and told her slave to stand up.

June got to her feet, wordlessly, and stood, arms at her sides, legs apart. Mistress P flicked the spent bunch of nettles up in between her slave's legs. She gasped.

They obviously had some sting left in them.

Next, Mistress P pushed the nettles hard against June's cunt. She looked her slave in the eyes. This was obviously a familiar routine, because unbidden, June bent her knees and squatted. This action caused her cunt to open, and Mistress P wedged the bunch of nettles in her cunt. June stood up, wincing.

"Stop fucking wriggling," instructed Mistress P. "You know what I'll do if you don't!"

June stood still, her lips trembling as she waited for the next part if her ordeal. Mistress P took another bunch of nettles out of the carrier bag and inspected it.

"This bunch isn't half big enough," she complained. "Honestly, I really don't know why I waste my time having you as my slave. There are lots of people who want to serve me. I gave you a specific task to carry out."

"I told you 'Go and pick me six bundles of stinging nettles' and this is your idea of a bunch? Bend over, you lazy, useless cunt, and if you drop those nettles your holding, I'll make you eat the whole fucking bunch!"

June bent forward carefully, an action which brought her face close to Sara's. She smiled at the slave and winked at her.

"Be brave!" she whispered.

Mistress P began to whip June's arse. She didn't hold back, and after a dozen or so strokes, the bunch of nettles was shredded and broken. Bits of stalk and leaves littered the living room carpet. June was shaking, her efforts to keep the first bunch of stinging nettles in her cunt was proving to be a very hard task.

Mistress P dropped the bunch of nettles on the floor. She went to get another bunch from her carrier bag. She looked at C C.

"You!" she snapped, "can't you see the mess on your owner's carpet? You're the house slave. Do some fucking housework! Tidy up!"

"And you!" she clicked her fingers at Paula, "you can help him, you lazy bitch!"

"Stay where you are, Paula," said Sara firmly. She stood up.

"Please don't give my slut orders," she said in a quiet, determined voice.

"You might very well be the deputy Prime Minister, and you certainly are slave June's Mistress. But Paula is mine. She is extremely well trained, very obedient and very respectful to her betters. But she knows better than to accept orders from someone who hasn't had my permission to play with her. I would have thought that someone who is in the lifestyle would know basic house party protocol!"

There was an awkward silence. Sara looked at Denise and John.

"Now would be a good time for either of you to speak up and give me some support," Sara thought.

"I agree, Sara," said Denise. "We might only be a few tonight," she continued, "but surely we must still obey basic rules. Slaves are the property of their owners, and as such, shouldn't be put in the invidious position of having to obey a command given by anyone other than their owner, unless that has been agreed beforehand."

Sara smiled her gratitude at her friend, but remained silent. She looked at Mistress P and waited for a response.

Response came there none. Instead Mistress P swished the fresh bunch of nettles in her hand. She extracted three or four stems and dropped the rest on the carpet. She pulled June's arse cheeks apart and pushed the small bunch up against her arse hole. The puckered star shape twitched, and June grunted.

Ignoring that, Mistress P used her finger to push first one, then another, and another inside June's arse. The slave yelled in agony, and was rewarded with a few stinging slaps to her arse cheeks.

"Shut the fuck up, cunt! I've barely started! I told you that you were going to pay for Wednesday night's interview!"

She picked up the depleted bunch and swatted June's arse hard again. Broken leaves flew in all directions and soon she was left with another bedraggled bunch of broken stems. She made June stand up straight, and she pushed the bunch that the slave held between her thighs into her cunt. There was no tenderness at all. She might have been stuffing a pillow into a pillow case. June whimpered, but otherwise bore her ordeal stoically.

Smiling triumphantly, the deputy Prime Minister looked at her audience with a sneer.

"Call yourself players?" she asked sarcastically. "None of you has a fucking clue about total power exchange! This slut signed a contract. She's mine and I can do with her as I please. Until I get tired of her, that is! And I'm rapidly reaching that point, cunt!"

This last remark was spat into June's face. The slave, who had endured a fearfully painful experience with no word of complaint, and only the odd whimper of pain and the occasional moan of pleasure, was obviously hurt by her Mistress 's threat. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Crying? Do you think turning on the waterworks will make me change my mind? Look at you! Your tits sag and aren't fun to torture any more. You've had so many things shoved up your cunt that it is as slack as an over stretched elastic band. Even your arsehole is starting to look and feel like the entrance to a fucking gorge!"

"No, cunt. I think your time is up. If you please me for the rest of the night, I might give you a lift back to London, but when I get home, I'm ripping up your contract and you can fuck off back to your Communist television chums and see if there's some sad fucker there who is willing to take you on!"