One Chance to Impress Her

"Please, Mistress Veronica... please, take me to your dungeon," I sob. "Please, let me enter your palace of pleasure and pain. Please, please... I need to go there, to serve you at the place where you reign even more supreme... Please!"

The last "please" comes out so loudly that it echoes through the whole building. I believe we are the only ones left in it for the time but, if not, then I just announced my complete debasement to anyone who was ready to listen.

"Your good fortune continues, slave! I have a limo waiting for me two blocks from here and I am giving you the opportunity to go in it. I will be heading there now and expect you to follow shortly. To avoid unnecessary confusions, you have temporary permission to put some of your clothes back on to leave the building, but do not get used to them again! I will have them burned for good the moment we reach my dungeon. Are my orders clear enough for your weak mind?"

"Yes, Mistress Veronica."

"Good," you move towards the door. "Hurry up. Once I am inside the limo, I will only stick around for one minute. If you are not ready by then, you will never hear from me again!"

You leave swiftly as I drag myself to my desk, using it to get back on my feet. It feels weird to stand upright again after all the kneeling, and groveling, and animal postures. My hair is disheveled, my eyes bloodshot. I am sore in areas I did not believe possible to be sore, even though this is only the beginning. I suppose I could ignore your ultimatum and let it all end just like this, but who am I kidding? You do not believe in my disobedience, and neither do I. Haphazardly, I put on my pants, pick up the shoes from underneath the rotating chair, button the shirt halfway, and run like crazy, only wanting more and more of you.

Here is something quite funny. You never told me the block where the limo was parked, and yet I find it right away. The open door is a passageway to yet another new world, one I am looking forward to exploring.

The moment I step inside, I am brought down to my knees with a slap. Sitting in the luxurious seat is out of the question for that would put us at eye level, and I still have a lot to prove to receive that blissful gift once more. You also tell me to pull my pants and boxers down again, so you can take another good look at my seemingly unyielding erection.

"Have you ever had your cock and balls locked really tight?" you ask. "No? I bet that, before the night is over, I can make you do it and throw away the key..."

In truth, that is a scary thought as forced chastity is not something I find intriguing in any way, but I am not in control and, the more you talk, the more your dulcet, yet overpowering tones reach my ears, the less it matters. I keep on being broken and reshaped, and now you have come up with another way to do it.

"Keep your head down but follow my gloved hand with your eyes," you command as the limo starts moving towards its destination. "Yes, keep up with my fingers."

I acquiesce, taking notice of each subtle movement you make, the invisible circles and spirals described, the tantalizing waves that cross the air. I feel that, at any moment, you are going to slap me again if I do not give you full attention, and so I do. I look at them intently and start to feel a bit drowsy after a while.

I do not know if you are hypnotizing me, if you have done so already, or if this is just an effect of the growing vortex of subspace, but things begin to flutter, a hazy blur takes over. In-between the slow motions of the wheels beneath me, I have a fleeting impression of hearing your voice very far away, perhaps submerged in water. Some of the words appear to be just gibberish, others combine into complete sentences, with two of them appearing quite clear amidst the white, drowned noise.

"You will serve only me. You will obey only me," you declare, and I nod forward ever so slightly, still following your fingers with my droopy eyes. It all makes sense, of course. Why would I surrender to another? Mistress Veronica is the one true alpha female, my omega body and mind must comply. A hint of drool escapes my lips.

"Now suck!" you order, stuffing your fingers inside my half-open mouth. "I want to see how good you are with that mouth of yours before we reach my dungeon. Do not stop sucking until you have successfully removed my glove!"

What a splendid treat, I really am a lucky slave! My eager lips rush to the job, my teeth nibble at the tips of the fingers, my tongue muscles whirl and spin. The more I suck, the harder you push the glove into my mouth, moving it in such a way that the gag reflex never takes place. I keep biting, gnawing, savoring it fully until the shape is broken, the shiny fabric unfolds, and I'm filled with it.

"You were definitely made for sucking but what a slobbering mess you just made!" you complain. "I most certainly cannot put this leaky glove anywhere near me, so we will just have to find a new place for it. I think I know just the right one..."

Effortlessly, you leave it hanging on my intumesced cock, a black flag over denied red and purple.

"There!" you chirp, content. "Now take care of the other one. We are almost there."

I resume my work, using the same methods and with the same submissive hunger, tears of happiness rolling down my eyes. Time goes by in an instant and, suddenly, the car stops. You exit the vehicle and I trail a few steps behind, with the pants still down and now the proud bearer of two flags instead of one.

Because I am forced to keep my gaze on the floor, I cannot see much of the surrounding area, but it appears we are in a garage. I never saw the limo driver either but is not hard to conceive he was also one of your servants as I am sure you have plenty. You lead me towards a door that turns out to be an elevator, and the contraption moves quietly beneath my feet. If up or down I cannot tell.

Just before the doors open, you move behind me and suggest I lift my head to get the full impact of what is to follow. Obeying without question, I watch the silvery reflections part before my eyes, and a space of wonder and terror come alive.

I immediately notice the Saint Andrew's Cross, the queening stool, the hoist, the whipping bench, and the vacuum bed. Then, I notice the dozens of racks filled with all sorts of naughty implements: various types of gags, bondage tape, cock rings, humblers, straitjackets, nipple clamps, floggers, paddles, butt plugs, dildos of all colors and shapes and so many other things impossible to number, some of which I have never seen in my life and have no idea what they are used for. It is completely overwhelming. It is also my present and my foreseeable future.

You push me towards the paraphernalia of sexual debauchery, no doubt grinning from ear to ear. "Welcome to my world, slave. It is time for the juicy stuff."

I gulp in response, knowing there is no escape.

I walk slowly inside the dungeon, feeling your eyes on me the whole time. I try so very hard not to show it, though it is impossible to deny something is off. Noticing this, you order me to stop on my tracks, and I do.

"What's the matter, slave?" you ask. "Getting cold feet suddenly? Not so long ago, you were begging me to use you in any way I wished, and now you cannot even keep your pace straight? Let me guess: you thought you were daydreaming this whole time, and now things feel too real for you?"

How did you...? I am about to say but feel the words stuck in my throat. You are correct, of course, and I feel the tentacles of shame wrap around my thoughts. Seeing the full extent of your world, anticipating everything that can happen within it, is a gigantic weight upon my shoulders, and I lack the strength of Atlas. However, I do not wish to displease you in any way.

"I just need to calm down a bit if that is okay with you, Mistress Veronica," I mutter.

"I see..." you retort, sounding somewhat distant. "Well, if it is calmness you need and, seeing how you responded earlier, I know exactly what to do. Strip and kneel next to that red dot on the floor," you command.

Having done so before already, I do not hesitate in getting rid of my clothes. I take extra care of your gloves, placing them atop a small table upon your instructions, and assume my position. As my eyelids remain locked shut, I hear you rummage through some of the fetish gear, looking for something special. The moment you find it, you return to me with additional orders.

"Here is what you are going to do. I want you to look at that red dot, focus all your attention on it. Every time you feel a touch on your left shoulder, you are to close your eyes but remain in the same position, seeing the dot inside your mind. You will open them again when you feel a touch in your right shoulder, continuing to look at the dot normally. You will repeat this process with each alternating touch until you feel yourself starting to relax. Do you understand what you have to do?"

"Yes, Mistress Veronica," I respond, already looking at the dot. It is quite big, perhaps a marking for some unknown game, but that is beside the point. I gaze at it intently, your breath upon my neck and then the first touch comes.

The object you are holding feels somewhat elongated, perhaps a custom paddle of sorts. Contact with it causes a slight tingle on my skin, one that reverberates across my veins in the most peculiar of ways. I close my eyes, the dot making its presence felt in the chaos of my thoughts, alongside that hint of pleasurable pain. You then touch my right shoulder, extending this uncanny sensation. The dot seems to grow when I open my eyes, and I immediately feel a bit hazy because of it all.

"Breathe slowly," you say, touching my left shoulder once more. My eyes sink in a fraction of a second, but the dot remains, even larger this time, and extraordinarily vivid in my slightly altered state of consciousness. "Relax," you continue, the new touch calling me back to reality.

This goes on for a while. Left, right, left, right, left, right... Left means dropping inside myself, right brings me up yet, whenever that happens, I still feel like I am falling... left, right, left, right, left, right, obeying feels so right now that the anxiety has left, obeying feels so right now that the anxiety has...

Hmmm? Am I talking out loud? It does seem my voice, or at least a perfect fac-simile of it. I like the sound of it as it says those things, but I prefer the sound of yours even more. Each touch makes me want to hear it amidst the subconscious echoes all around. Mistress, why are you so quiet? Mistress, please say so...

"There is nothing to fear, nothing to miss, your owner is here, Veronica is bliss," you suddenly whisper in my right ear and I almost feel an orgasm rippling through my body. Almost, but not quite, something more akin of an edging dream, but enough to leave me panting for more.

"How are you feeling now?"

Energized, invigorated, but also more submissive than ever. The red dot is branded in my spirit, your words etched inside. I was such a fool, but not anymore. My whole body is warm, my soul is glowing.

"Everything feels perfect, Mistress Veronica."

"Of course, it does," you say with great authority. "Everything is perfect when you do as I say. Are you ready for me now?"

"Yes, Mistress Veronica," I reply. drowned in your wishes.

"Then it's time to introduce you to one of my favorite objects," you snigger. "Look to your left, slave."

I do so and see it right away. As if it had just sprung from medieval times, the rack calls out my name.

"Go on, slave," you urge me in its direction. "It is not going to bite you, though it might sting a little. However, what is a little pain in comparison to the pleasure you will get from serving? Never forget your purpose, you are here to attend to my every desire!"

That much is obvious in my still hazy mind. Your conditioning was swift but extremely effective and the strange device no longer produces any sort of discomfort except making my swollen manhood throb even harder. The arousal is intense but not as much as my urge to please. I crawl towards it with a plastered smile upon my face.

"Lie down but remember to keep your eyes closed." you continue, your authority over me increased tenfold or more. "Let us push your boundaries a little:"

Push, pull, stretch, perhaps even break a few, I am sure of it. Never in my fantasies I envisioned myself being subject to one of these, but now is the right time to have some new ones. Before I close my eyes as instructed, I can not help but take a good look at it. The rack looks old, but it is obviously a design choice as the hydraulics underneath are new and well oiled. The same goes for the crank and the chains. Though unmoving, they seem to rattle as I assume my place next to them, no doubt eager to have a taste of my flesh and bones. My eyelids flutter a bit and sink deep. In less than a heartbeat, I am perfectly secured, wrists and ankles ready to withstand the torturous delights you have in store for me.

A whirr is heard as the gears are set in motion and my helpless body begins to feel its effects. Just like before, things start with a brief tingle although this one travels faster across my every muscle. As the pressure increases, everything begins to stiffen, it is as if every inch of flesh is undergoing a massive erection as well. It hurts a bit, but it is not an excruciating pain. The rollers stop moving as you address me again.

"You have no idea how much I love seeing you there for my amusement," you say, in-between scratching sounds. Something is moving along the right side of the contraption, causing sparks to fly. I can almost see them executing wondrous pirouettes and somersaults, an artistic display like no other before falling to the floor and fading away. One, however, defies the norm, leaping graciously from whatever object you are holding right now, and gliding just a few feet above prior to landing on my exposed torso. I squirm as it does so, my sudden jerk going against the strain brought about by the rack, and the agony is intensified.

"Want some more?" you ask, mischievously.

"I want whatever you want, Mistress Veronica," I respond, biting my lower lip.

"That is exactly what I like to hear," you tease as the crank spins once more. My arms and legs appear to spin with it, no doubt a sensory illusion of the building tension. I moan as you circle me, cold metal grazing my right calf.

Claws. Claws adorn your fingers. You were already the predator, but now the metamorphosis is complete. The magnificent tigress has come to play with its prey before devouring it whole. The sharp tip leaves its marks on my aching skin, but no blood is drawn. Not yet, at least.

"Are you ticklish, slave?"

Not really, no. Sensitive in some spots, that is a given, though I tend to resist quite stoically to any attempt to make me laugh. My pain tolerance levels, on the other hand, are not really that high and, as such, the proper amount exerted in the proper way is more than enough to break me apart.

"That is good to know," you conclude, making me realize I said all this instead of just thinking it. I feel as if I have been administered a hefty dose of truth serum to prevent me from keeping any secrets and, the more I give in to it, the more I want to keep on doing so. The claws wiggle between my toes, reach down for the soles and I spasm ever so slightly. Apparently. I was dead wrong about the ticklish part, or maybe I am already responding to another one of your suggestions, awakening in me your perfect vision of a loyal thrall.

You linger on them for a while, seeing if I burst out laughing or not. Eventually that happens with the expected results following through: more muscles dilated, more involuntary struggle, more conflagrations of ecstatic twinges from top of bottom. Even before I can recuperate, you are already at my armpits, rubbing and scratching at your own pace. My reactions fail to impress this time around, so you go for a much-needed course correction, taking a straight line towards my nipples, with immediate consequences. Just circling the areolae makes me writhe.

"Ah, looks like your ultimate weakness has been uncovered and now..." you keep pushing the tips towards my burning flesh. "... you have no choice but to grow even weaker for me..."

"Yes, Mistress Veronica."

"Speak up!"

"Yes, Mistress Veronica."

"Louder, slave!" you hiss, reaching for the center of my left nipple.

"YES, MISTRESS VERONICA!" I scream and gasp, the trumpeting sounds deafening everything else. The claws take a sharp turn and descend across my navel and below, until they find the proper place for one last stand: the thin layer of skin underneath my testicles.

"Good slave... weaker and weaker... more and more willing to surrender everything to your Mistress..."

More rattling sounds come my way, some from above, others from below, but most of them from parts unknown, and the rack begins moving, elevating, shifting from its regular horizontal axis to a practically vertical one. The sudden pangs bring tears to my eyes, and I blink for a moment. I do not see you, but you certainly saw me.

"Did you just open your eyes, however briefly? You should not have done that..." you announce as you squeeze my cock really hard. I scream again, and my pain brings you immense joy. "Now then... what should I do to you next?"

Still reeling in from the ache, I remain silent this time around. I do not know what is going to happen from now on, but I am certain that, whatever it is, will be completely irresistible.

* * *

"Oops, I'm not going to do a thing because our time's up, " I suddenly hear you say and my world melts into tears. What? No! What does that even mean? Mistress, why...?

"It's time to wake up, my sleepy toy, " you continue, and reality shifts under the strength of your command. The dungeon becomes my office, my office the stage of your mental domination. You're no longer Mistress Veronica but just my secretary and if everything feels too abrupt, it's because it is.

"Sorry, I have plans, but this was fun. You really went deeper than ever this time around, " you say as I nod, sheepishly. "I hope you enjoyed your chance to please me. "

"I want more..." I mutter as I struggle to recover from the hypnotic spell you so expertly crafted this time around.

"I know you do but, like I said, I have plans and they're more important than you. Besides, you don't pay me enough for this. "

"If you want more money, I'll..."

"Yes, you will because you know I own your cock and balls even when you're not entranced. Unless you're still hypnotized right now, and this continues be a part of our game..."

You wink and leave me behind, unsure of everything. I look at the blank computer screen, trying to remember how it all began but nothing comes to mind. I had one chance and it's over... for now. Unwilling to face the paperwork and the dull routine once again, I grab my phone and begin draining my bank account for you.

It's going to be an agonizing wait until the next session.