Mistress Cruel Love Ch. 04

Mistress Cruel Love

Chapter 4 -- Mein Herrin! I Can Dance!

Club Ishtar was jumping and so were Heather's bulbous curves. Her pudgy arms and thick thighs jiggled as she exited the bathroom and strode down the hallway back to the main room where the party was in full swing. The red satin of her dress stretched around her plump body as she strutted her stuff. Her confidence had been building steadily for months, but she'd never felt better about being a large and in charge female dominant since stepping into this Femdom wonderland.

As the corridor opened to the massive dance hall, she was assaulted by a swirl of colors and the thrum of pounding dance beats. She drank it all in, looking up at the caged, gyrating sissies and across the expanse of tables surrounding the dance floor. Heather's party had arrived not long ago. It was their first visit and there was still so much to see.

The thrill of handing Darius off to a woman Heather didn't know caught her by surprise. A rush of intense arousal had surged through her body when she commanded him to accompany and obey Ms. Carruthers until she returned. The relief Heather found in the bathroom was more than just the emptying of her bladder. However, there was some nagging concern for her boyfriend echoing in the back of her mind as she started off in the direction of Deborah's table.

Heather didn't get far before two older men entered her path on hands and knees. They crawled into view wearing nothing but latex thong underwear, rubber gimp hoods, leather horse bits fixed around their gagged mouths and metal blinders attached to their heads. They could see nothing but what was directly in front of them. Their old man titties drooped under their chests, held down by attached weights as they shuffled forward. Their leashes led to a singular figure, behind them, and soon a familiar face walked into view.

"Beatrice!" Heather exclaimed, stopping the old matron in her tracks.

She looked somewhat different from their first meeting at Queen Shit, but it was definitely her. Beatrice had dyed her hair from white to blonde and was decked out in full Dominatrix regalia. A long, shiny, black leather coat hung around her short, thin frame. The thick fetish garment covered all but her front. For an older woman she was in surprisingly great shape. She clearly enjoyed showing off her body at the club. Under the coat, Beatrice wore nothing but a leather brassiere, latex panties and knee-high leather boots. She followed the two aging submissives with a stern grip on their metal leashes.

As soon as Heather spoke, Beatrice's head turned and her face lit up in pleasant surprise. "Heather! You made it! I'm so glad!"

Heather rushed to her side and the two shared a tender hug. They'd been in contact by phone and email for a while, but this was the first time they'd seen each other since their fateful encounter at the sex shop.

"How do you like the club?"

"It's AMAZING! Thank you so much for inviting us! We just got here, so I was about to take a tour."

"It was my pleasure. Where's Darius?"

"Oh, we bumped into an old acquaintance of his on the way in, so she's looking after him right now."

"Really? How fortunate! How bout I show you around and we have a little chat? I can't stay long. I have other activities planned for THESE filthy worms--"

Beatrice gave the men's asses a forceful shove with the heel of her boot. They grunted into their leather gags as each was stabbed in the butt and jolted forward.

"--but I have time enough to show you around a little."

"That sounds great, but I think maybe I should check on Darius first..."

"Hun, you got nothing to worry about. Look here." The experienced Domina pointed in a few different directions, indicating security cameras that were stationed all over the place. "This club has rules and its eyes are everywhere. Darius will be fine. If this woman violated his consent or tried to remove him from the club without your permission, she would be banned for life."

Heather smiled. Beatrice was already making the sexual underworld feel like home. Her worries were instantly dispelled. "You're right. I'm sure Darius is having a great time. Lead on!"

* * * * *

Darius licked and tongued away under the sweaty, fleshy mountains of Deborah's humongous ass. His face and neck were numb and he didn't care. She was holding his arms down by the wrists at both sides as she continued to rock her shelf-ass back and forth on his abused face. His cock pulsed painfully in its metal housing. He was loving every minute of it.

How long had she been sitting on him and demanding oral worship? A half hour? More? It seemed she'd been right about Heather taking her time. Was his girlfriend really enjoying the thought of him being used like this? The questions assailed him in the moist darkness of Deborah's ass.

Darius slithered his soiled tongue along her crack and into her portly pucker again. Just as he was pressing it into her depths, the ring of her anus expanded violently and rank gas exploded all over his face. He coughed and retched as her fart rippled into his mouth and nostrils. Deborah held onto his wrists fiercely.

"Oops! Looks like I had a little something extra for you after all. Enjoy, slut!"

She chuckled as he struggled weakly and inhaled her noxious fumes. Deborah continued to wriggle her crushing cheeks all over his face, making him wait a good fifteen seconds until she finally stood and offered him fresh air.

Darius gasped in relief, his face covered in her musk and sweat. She looked down at him contemptuously with her hands on her rotund hips.

"Did you enjoy that, Dana?"

He couldn't deny it. Especially not when she used his secret name. "Yes, Miss Carruthers!"

"It's Mistress Deborah. And of course you did, you sissy bitch!"

She lowered herself again, pressing his head deep into the leather cushioning. Darius had lost count of the times she'd buried him with her globular mass. His face was consumed by stifling, gelatinous ass. His lips and tongue resumed their work as his upper body was sealed against the shiny upholstery.

* * * * *

After a brisk walk up many steps, Markus and Shireen reached the second floor of Club Ishtar's tower of decadence. They strolled along the perimeter together, peeking into various rooms and witnessing the many depraved activities ongoing. Yelps, hisses and cries of delightful agony sang out as men of all ages took their beatings.

From what Markus could tell, everything on this floor was dedicated to impact play. There was a room designated for every kind of spanking and each was stationed by a different Domina. Bare hand, paddling, flogging, cropping, caning and whipping. He could only imagine what waited on the floors above this one.

"Cmon now, you never been spanked before?" Shireen asked, baiting the hook for Markus.

"Not as an adult" he replied as they stopped by the railing.

Below, the masses of club-goers were dancing, jumping and grinding in raucous, sexualized glee. The pair gazed at each other as the music pulsed and the lights swirled around them. The taboo nature of the place made Markus uneasy, yet this was the first time he'd gotten Shireen to give him the time of day. If he played his cards right, an intimate moment could be crafted. This was his ticket in.

"Pffft... Not even at a frat house or bachelor party? Guys do that kind of stuff all the time!"

"Never joined a frat. Wasn't my thing. Neither did Darius, though I bet he would've if he'd had the chance."

"You've led a sheltered life, Markus."

"Hey baby" he said leaning forward. "There's more to me than meets the eye. You just gotta get to know me better."

Shireen's face froze in stony smarm. She crossed her arms and gave him a severe look. "Don't baby me. I'm not your girl."

Markus approached a little closer, his arms raised in surrender. "What I gotta do for you to give me a chance?"

Shireen's left eyebrow rose and her mouth entered a half-smile. She nodded down the hallway and Markus turned to see what she was indicating. Not far from them was the Paddling Room.

"Prove to me you're not the most vanilla black man that's ever lived."

Darius sighed. "How many?"

"One round of spankings."

"How many is in a round?"

Shireen grinned. "The more you take, the more impressed I'll be..."

Markus hesitated for just a moment, but he was resolved not to blow this. "Fine, but my pants stay on."

She took his arm and began dragging him toward his doom. "Oh no! I intend to see what you're wearing down there! Are you a brief bitch or a boxer jock?"

"Maybe I'm wearing panties. You'd love that, right?"

Shireen cackled as they marched off. "If you had those kinda vibes, we'd already be dating."

* * * * *

The chain leashes extending from Beatrice's hand jingled as her submissives crawled ahead of her, their nipple weights swinging below. She and Heather had walked around the community center and were headed back to the main room. Two pairs of heels clacked on the floor as they proceeded down the long, well-lit corridor. Framed Femdom artwork and advertisements for Femdom themed movies, books and classes adorned the walls as far as the eye could see.

Heather was gushing at each new discovery. Beatrice looked thoroughly pleased with herself. The old matron lashed out with her crop periodically, encouraging her harnessed sluts to move faster. As they approached the lobby, she glanced over at her newest apprentice, noting how far she'd come in such a short time.

"I can't tell you how glad I am that you're here tonight! That you've embraced the lifestyle so fully."

"Thank you, Beatrice. I've never been happier and I owe you so much! I don't think I'd be here without your guidance."

"Nonsense. You went to that shop of your own accord. I merely greased the wheels for your journey. Speaking of which, how is Darius handling all this? Has he fully accepted his new role?"

"Yes, even better than I expected. He was reluctant at first, but always caved, eventually. No matter what I demanded. That's why I suspected he was a submissive from the beginning."

"All men are, dear. Some of them just don't know it yet."

Heather chortled. "I'm picking out his clothes regularly now. Darius is starting to fully embrace his new life. He obviously enjoys being a sissy maid and submitting 24/7, but it's taken a while for him to admit it. Especially to himself."

"Utterly ridiculous" Beatrice spat, looking down at her bitch-made men. "These fools fail to comprehend their own needs and desires. Patriarchy prevents their emotional development and sexual evolution. It stifles any social and personal growth they might experience. And then they're given power? Allowed to run the world?!? Not for much longer! HALT!!!"

The leather and metal clad slaves came to an immediate stop as they approached the entrance to the party hall. The booming music and flashing lights had grown more prominent with each step, bringing the tunnel to echoing, pulsing life. Beatrice paused for a moment as the lighting gleamed on her shiny leather. She tapped her boot with her leather crop; lost in thought.

"You know what Darius needs?" she asked, turning to Heather with a wicked smile.

"What?"

"A coming out party."

"Oh! Yes, that sounds like fun! What did you have in--"

"Right here! At Club Ishtar. A full extravaganza to unveil him to the club and cement the boy in his new role!"

"Hmmm, that sounds great, but I don't know if we can afford something like that right now. I just got my new venture setup and--"

"Oh, stop it! My treat, of course."

"MMMPPPGGGHHHHGLLLUUUMMPHHH!!!"

One of the slaves started groaning and murmuring into his bit. The man's body wiggled in the grasp of the leash. Beatrice turned and scowled at him. "What is it Harold?!? Don't tell me you have to use the bathroom again?!?"

"MMMHMMMM" he answered, nodding his hooded and harnessed head affirmatively. Strings of drool streamed down from the thick leather gag pulled harshly between his teeth.

"Ugh..." She turned back to Heather, shaking her head. "I swear, this one's bladder is the size of a pea. I really do need to get going, but I'll be in touch. We'll plan the party for next weekend, if that works for you?"

"Absolutely!" Heather said with a beaming smile. "Again, thank you so much!"

"No thanks needed, my dear. I'm going to savor this event! Everything from the planning to the party itself. Enjoy the rest of the night! We'll talk more tomorrow."

"I will, Beatrice. Talk to you soon!" Heather nodded.

The Domina whipped Harold's ass for interrupting her and then slapped the reigns on her team of slaves. They marched toward the lobby with Beatrice in tow, berating them the whole way.

Heather walked back into the carnival of debauchery with a giddy smile. Maybe she would look around a while longer before going to fetch Darius...

* * * * *

*SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK*

Markus gritted his teeth as each loud swat of the large wooden paddle made his ass cheeks vibrate and burn. He was bent over the side of a bondage table with his pants down, taking sting after sting. His boxers did very little to help cushion the blows.

*SMACK SMACK SMACK*

It was a red-headed Domme with an Irish accent currently paddling him. She was a small woman, but anyone being spanked by her who hadn't seen her first would've been fooled. The surprisingly strong Domina reached back and sent every stroke of the paddle into his ass with blistering force.

*SMACK SMACK SMACK*

'Oh shit! I lost count! OWW! FUCK!!! I can't take many more...'

*SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK*

"MERCY!!!"

It took another chunk out of his ego, but he shouted the safe word and the beating ceased. The haughty Domme tossed her paddle on the table with a loud clatter and it came to a stop just in front of Markus. She put her hands on her hips and looked down at him with a scornful expression that clearly read: 'Is that it, bitch?'

Shireen giggled and thanked the Mistress of Paddling as Markus pulled his pants back up. They exited the room with Markus hissing in bruised anguish. Shireen wore the biggest smile he'd ever seen.

His ass was brutally sore as they made their way back downstairs. Shireen followed him at a deliberately slow pace, enjoying every second he waddled and grimaced in pain. He'd taken twenty three strong swats to his cheeks before bailing. Not overly impressive, but not bad for someone as obviously inexperienced as Markus.

"Agghhh! Damn, that woman can dish it out!"

"Stronger than you imagined, hmmm? Most women are, you know."

"Yeah, yeah... I get it" Markus grumbled.

They reached the ground floor and Shireen walked past him, heading in the direction of the bathrooms. "I need to freshen up. This way."

He followed her down a long line of red leather booths. The women at several tables eyed him as the couple passed by. It didn't help that his flashy purple suit drew attention naturally.

"You not gonna be long, right?" He asked as they closed in on the restrooms.

"Nope. Just a few. Wait right here" Shireen instructed before strutting down the short hallway. Markus turned and leaned against the wall.

Directly opposite him was a table seating three, large, white women. Calling them large was polite, actually. They were enormous, stocky women who all looked to be in their forties and fifties. They weren't alone, either. A trio of sissy maids was just below the table, each servicing their charges in the way the women preferred.

By coincidence or not, all three of the sissies were dark skinned. They were being put through their paces by the blubbery, white club-goers. The first maid was licking the first woman's boots up and down. He coated the length of her footwear with utter disregard for his increasingly raw tongue and total reverence for her shiny footwear.

On the right side of the table, the second maid had removed the shoes of the second woman and was giving her enormous feet an extended foot rub. His skillful hands flowed up and down her doughy flesh, kneading them and slipping his fingers through the webs of her toes. The woman moaned in blissful comfort as the sissy went about his business.

The third maid was nowhere to be seen, or at least not the upper half of his body. His torso and legs stuck out from the center of the table under the third woman's ass. His frilly, white petticoats were displayed to the world as his legs writhed, trying to maintain his footing. The woman gyrated her fat ass on the young man's face, mashing him into the seat as his mouth was put to good use.

Markus watched the bizarre scene for a while as he waited for Shireen. Every now and then one of the two un-buried sissies would glance his way. They looked shocked to see a man who wasn't collared or dressed as a woman. It was as if Markus was some kind of rare, exotic specimen to them.

"Hey, Mr. Purple!" the blonde woman having her boots polished called out. "Come over here!"

Markus pointed to himself and when she nodded yes, he held up his hands and attempted to wave them off.

"That wasn't a request, bitch! I don't see you with a woman. Get over here before I report you to the club!"

Markus bit his tongue and strode forward, still holding his hands up in conciliation. As he got closer, he got an even better look at the three massive white women wedged into the round booth. Their girth barely fit into the wide seating, their stomachs pushed up against the table as they leaned back, enjoying the efforts of the sissy maids. Boot-lady eyed him up and down as he approached.

"You got some nerve wearing that getup in Ishtar!"

"Ma'am, I am here with a woman. She's just in the bathroom" Markus explained, turning briefly and pointing in the proper direction. "She'll be back any minute."

The brunette getting her feet rubbed scanned him as he closed in. "No leash, either! Looks pretty suspicious to me."

The third woman was so enthralled with the sissy worshiping her ass that she didn't pay any attention to the conversation that was unfolding. Her head lulled back as low moans escaped her lips.

"Tell ya what, purple" the blonde continued. "Why don't you get under the table and help this slut with my boots? Then we'll know you're actually suppose to be here."

"Ma'am, please, I'm really just here to look--"

"NOW!" the blonde behemoth shouted and Markus' body shook. His thin frame buzzed with nervous energy as he considered doing what she asked. After all, if he got kicked out of the club, there was no way he was getting a date with Shireen.

*THWIP*

The distinct sound of fingers snapping pierced the air and Markus turned to find Shireen folding her arms below her breasts.

"He's with me, ladies. Sorry for the trouble."

The large blonde smirked, annoyed to see Markus had been telling the truth. "No trouble at all. You might want to leash Mr. Purple, though, and change him into something more fitting!"

Shireen walked to his side and put her hand around his arm. "Don't worry, the next time he's here, he'll be wearing something much more appropriate." She nodded to the seated Dommes before leading him away.

Markus was quiet as the grave until they were out of earshot. "Wooo... That was getting sketchy! Thanks, girl."

"I'm not your girl" Shireen reminded him.