Femdom: Toledo

Finally, suddenly, the beating stopped, as if there had been some kind of sign. My muscles finally relaxed and I collapsed onto the tabletop, tears filled my eyes and I began to sob softly. I felt a hand on my back, urging Andrea to come and look.

"Well," The Fury started as though she was showing Andrea nothing out of the ordinary, "doesn't this look really nice?"

Now two hands were touching me. Andrea's hand was gentle, caressing the lattice of raised welts across my back and bottom. The other pushed my flesh around as though I were a pig at auction, but it was still thrilling to have the presumptuous young lady's small hand touching my body. Even as I quietly wept, my penis suddenly responded with vigour as a desire washed over me, deep and dark.

"Doesn't he look prettier now that he shows the marks of submission?" The Fury asked.

"Do you know, I do believe your right!" Andrea confessed nonchalantly. She seemed distracted and I could tell that she was already thinking about how she might decorate my backside in the same way herself one day.

"Madame," The Fury continued, "I would normally consider this enough - I'm sure your little worm has learned not to leer at his superiors now, but I want to give you a present that will last forever... A small and delicate souvenir from Toledo. Will you accept it?"

Andrea let her hand trail over my weals a little longer whilst I heard the two of them whisper conspiratorially, then Andrea agreed with a kind of giddy excitement.

Now Andrea and The Fury came back into my field of vision but, to my surprise, Andrea continued on and climbed the few steps to the throne where she turned to face me. Her eyes were so much darker than normal. The lust was taking over.

The Fury leaned casually on the table, her summer dress gaping open at the neck. I looked away immediately, causing The Fury to give a satisfied chuckle.

"So, señor, I will tell you what we will do," she said softly, trailing a finger delicately around the helix of my ear. "I have a branding iron here, and I intend to use it on you. Julia will heat it up for you but it will take several minutes so don't go anywhere!"

She laughed sweetly at her own words, but it seemed cold-blooded because, to me, what I heard was terror, sheer terror... yet my cock prodded the table as virulently as ever before. I thought that I might start to cry again, and attempted a plea to Andrea with a desperate moan through the ball gag and wide, pleading eyes, but she just smiled at me. Sweet as her smile was, it seemed worse than having her ignore me. By now she was seated on the throne, watching with fascination, waiting to observe a scene that she knew would not be any small entertainment. Somehow she was deeply impressed by the power of the Fury and understood clearly that the power exposed here was putting me in a place - a place where I might long to be, but to which she lacked the power to take me.

Julia felt below the table top and eventually brought out a long iron poker with a coil-type handle on one end and a small decoration on the other. She handed it to The Fury who held it with some reverence as though it was a ceremonial sword, presenting the decorated end for me to see. The tip itself was no more than an inch in diameter and was constructed of thin strips of metal to form a design I now knew well; the double-headed eagle with a cross for a tail.

"Can you think of a better souvenir?" The Fury asked brightly as she handed the poker back to Julia, who took it over to the fire in the corner of the room and pressed it into the coals.

Moments passed during which I could hear Julia prodding the fire with a poker. The rest was silence despite the storm that raged in my mind. Did I want to be here? was this my destiny? was I ready to serve from now on, as a slave to the superior ladies of this world? Then soft, naked feet padded back across the age-stained stone slabs. I turned to face The Fury again just as Julia carefully handed the iron to her, showing it to me, it's tip still glowing red, then both of the Spanish girls disappeared behind me.

"Now," The Fury spoke with a bright, happy tone, "this will sting a bit, be a good boy and suppress your screams - we don't want the police charging in now, do we?"

I looked to Andrea to make one final plea, but found that she had hitched her summer dress up around her waist and was now perched on the edge of the throne with her legs spread wide, displaying her naked sex for me to see, and suddenly I knew what I was required to do.

As Julia ripped back the plaster that she had earlier placed on my backside to ensure that an un-welted, un-bruised patch of skin was preserved in just the right place, I worshipped Andrea's glorious sex with my eyes, acknowledging that it defined her as my superior, admitting without words that I desired sexual favour from her so much that her ability to give it to me, or withhold it from me, made her my master.

I kept my eyes on Andrea's divine pussy as The Fury pressed the hot iron gently into the skin on my buttock. The pain was terrible, like nothing I had ever experienced before; sharp and concentrated like knives through my flesh, then heavy and dull like a burning bruise spreading throughout my muscle. Almost as soon as the burning metal had touched my skin, it had done its job and was removed again, but the horrible pain remained. I tried not to scream, but failed, so Julia's hand immediately covered my mouth, sealing my lips to the blue ball and blocking the sound. Her palm still smelt and tasted of the grit from the road. It was distracting, as was the crippling pain in my buttock and the smell of burning flesh which now wafted to my nose, but though I almost lost contact with this world, I did not once take my eyes off my master's pussy.

Andrea ran her palms from her knees to the middle of her spread thighs, applied a little pressure, and pulled apart, spreading her lips to expose her pink, sodden vulva. Her hole gaped, and her clitoris stood proud. Her hands framed her glorious cunt one last time before reaching up to pull the hem of her dress back down, and finally I collapsed, physically, mentally, completely.

Don't ask me how we left, how I dressed, or even how I walked back to the car - the only thing I remember about that journey was that I could feel dried tears on my cheeks, and that Andrea walked by my side, her hand holding mine with loving tenderness and yet with a controlling confidence that I had not known before. It felt as if walking next to a transformed person, her step was more powerful, her grip more tight. When we came to the car she stopped, looked me in the eye and smiled.

"I am proud of you, my slave." she said, "Now take me back to the hotel, I am very hungry to be worshipped, so make it fast!"

Despite Andrea's urgency, the pain in my back, bottom and thighs caused me to drive slowly and gingerly, which seemed to amuse her immensely. As the fortress of Toledo was lost behind the low-rise buildings of the new town, Andrea toyed with her hair and turned to me. "I think we should add another night onto our stay in Toledo. What do you think?" she asked, casually, "We might as well see exactly what Casa Damalegí has to offer... now that we're members."

It was only when we reached the hotel and got out of the car when I realised that Andrea was wearing The Fury's belt.