The Duel of The Dommes - Prologue

The Kinky Secrets Of British Suburbia

When the Toyota Microbus arrived at Arianna's des res, Justine had taken off her New Rocks so that Dylan could worship her bare feet in the back of the people carrier, rather than just licking her boots. This wasn't, if she was honest, just to humour a gimp with a foot fetish: his soft mouth felt good on her feet, and she'd always enjoyed having her toes sucked. Dylan was obviously enjoying it as well, and his cock was swollen and throbbing inside the metal chastity cage he was wearing.

Apart from that and a steel collar with an integral lock, he was naked, so Justine was enjoying watching his smooth shaved body move as he licked and kissed her feet. She'd been very pleased that he'd followed her orders and removed every last trace of body hair before meeting her here to get ready to head off to the fetish night at Christine's. Arianna was renting a whole semi with just her girlfriend and slave Jonelle as a cohabitant, and had turned the huge open plan sitting room that stretched from the back to the front of the house into a playroom.

Now that they'd left Regal Zone, it would be a while before Justine and Dylan were allowed to leave, Justine was sure. She was more than a little nervous, but excited with it. She knew that as soon as she stepped through that front door she'd be joining Jared and Dylan as a submissive, and would be done as a Dominatrix for a while. What really worried her was the possibility that it might stop Dylan taking her seriously as a top if she wound up spending the next few hours in a collar and chastity belt herself, sucking toes and grovelling. Justine hadn't thought of that before, and rather wished that she had.

She wasn't quite sure that the red rubber catsuit she'd borrowed from Arianna to look the part in Regal Zone was worth losing the first subby boy she'd found since starting university who was willing to go all the way into a submissive role and enjoy it. Apart from anything else, Justine was a redhead, and she wasn't sure that the bright pillar box red rubber was really her colour, even if her hair was a much darker auburn with a bit of brown in it. Still, it had either been that or pink, and no way was Justine wearing pink rubber to a fetish club, even if the red catsuit was a little bit too Britney for Justine's taste.

Arianna was a useful person to know, and Justine was enough of a switch to not normally have any problem with her insistence that she was the only Dominant allowed in her house and everybody else was a sub. It was Arianna's place, so she got to lay down the ground rules. Her father was a CEO in a Californian tech company Justine had never heard of, which was some sort of umbrella company who owned substantial chunks of other companies of whom Justine had mostly heard. This meant that Arianna was loaded, not just by student standards, but those of the town as well. Justine had never understood what she was doing attending a redbrick in the midlands, rather than one of the Oxbridge or London University colleges. Maybe she enjoyed being a big fish in a small pond, which Justine thought might answer some questions about her uber-Domly routine if it was the case. Asking about that would be more than a little tactless, so Justine hadn't.

"Okay," Arianna said leaning around the passenger seat. She usually had Jonelle drive as she found British roads and British traffic a little intimidating. Like a lot of Americans, she didn't have the right approach to roundabouts. "Here we are. Teeny, can you take the boys round to the back door so none of the neighbours notice any naked gimps on the doorstep?"

Justine smiled. The front drive was a lot more exposed than the back garden which had a brick wall on two sides and a tall metal fence on the other. They'd come out that way as well. "Will do," she said. "Come on boys." She picked up her New Rocks and opened the side door. Dylan and Jared followed her around the side of the house to the back door that opened into the kitchen while Arianna swept inside leaving Jonelle to lock the Hiace up. Given that Arianna was wearing another latex catsuit, accessorised with matching thigh boots and opera gloves and a belt done up to look like a waspie corset, even if it wasn't boned and was just there to provide a hook to hang the glove leather pouch Arianna had been carrying tonight instead of a purse from, and Jonelle was dolled up up in an electric blue rubber off the shoulder dress, matching fingerless opera gloves and a pair of stripper platform mules, her worries about nude slave boys frightening the neighbours seemed a little strange. Jonelle was currently sporting her hair in a quarter inch crop dyed the same colour as her dress and gloves, which wasn't exactly discrete either.

The kitchen door opened. Arianna gestured them in. Arianna had a similar build to Justine's: tall and leggy but with enough up top to stop her looking boyish and an adequate bum for an hourglass figure. She was also (much to Justine's delight) a little thicker around the middle than Justine was, despite her keeping up a fairly aggressive workout routine. What was surprising about her was that she had a Mediterranean complexion that tanned deeply and honey blonde hair. Both appeared to be natural, but only one went with her German surname.

"Okay, Teenie," Arianna said, after checking the locks on the back door and shooting a bolt home, "It's time for you to get naked and join the boys. Strip."

Justine kept her face quiet as she put down her boots and shed her black leather pseudo-biker jacket (whose inner zipped pockets she'd emptied her handbag into before heading out), before wriggling out of the rubber catsuit. She put her hands behind her back to make sure they didn't cover anything, and lowered her eyes. It was the first time she'd been undressed in front of the boys tonight, and she was sort of hoping that she might be taking place in a threesome with them. Arianna was probably more interested in watching Dylan and Jared have sex with each other than with Justine, but being penetrated by both of them was definitely an appealing notion, even if it did mean that Dylan would never take her seriously as a top again.

"Good girl. Kneel."

Justine went down on her knees. Arianna picked up another of the metal collars off the table and snapped it shut around Justine's throat, then locked it and slipped the key into her pouch. Arianna suddenly didn't care if Dylan ever took her seriously as a Domme again. She felt all of the evening's anticipation and expectation flickering into an inferno of lust, and found that she had to put a real effort into not moaning as she heard the lock snap closed.

Arianna picked up the final touch, and Justine realised that she really was joining the boys for a while. "Stand and bend over," Arianna said. "Hands on the back of the chair." Justine did as she was told and managed to keep still as Arianna fitted a chastity belt onto her. It was lined with rubber, and fit tightly. Once Arianna was satisfied with its adjustment, she snapped a luggage lock into the small disc that held the two sides of the belt and the crotch plate together. This time, Justine did shiver as she heard the lock click shut. Arianna noticed and giggled.

"There, that will stop you playing with yourself while the boys are playing, won't it, you nasty slut?"

"Yes, Mistress," Justine said.

"Thank me."

Justine went down on all four and kissed the toes of Arianna's boots. "Thank you for putting me in chastity, Mistress." She wasn't exactly grateful because she was sure Dylan and Jared would soon be set free, but she'd just have to see how things played out.

"Think nothing of it, slut," Arianna said. "I think you should show the boys to the playroom now, while we wait for my slave to get changed into a more appropriate outfit. Maybe we should have the two of you do something to entertain the gimps?"

Home Movies

Justine seethed with frustration as she knelt by Arianna's feet, watching Dylan and Jared making out. They were still both locked in chastity, but were really getting into it, tongue kissing and touching each other all over. Justine was a bit surprised that Dylan had it in him, but knew full well that Jared was more of a homosexual than a submissive and had gone the full gimp tonight because he wanted to fuck Dylan. Dylan, on the other hand, was supposed to be a D/s bottom not a gay bottom, and his interest in cocks had never gone beyond fantasies and pornography before. He had mentioned that he wanted to at least try bisexuality, but Justine knew that a lot of submissive men talked all sorts of rubbish about that, so she was impressed that he was going through with it, rather than wimping out the second he was expected to suck face with a bona fide bottomist.

Watching them like this let Justine add to the comparison she'd been making all evening. Dylan was the slimmer of the two (perhaps verging on skinny) and paler. He also dressed goth, when he wasn't acting submissive in a fetish club, which was a big plus. She definitely preferred Dylan, and was sure she'd still feel that way if Jared hadn't been more into boys than girls. It had crossed Justine's mind that if Dylan enjoyed the sex as much as he seem to be enjoying the foreplay, Jared might be able to turn him over to the other side. That didn't do much to make Jared seem more attractive, if she was honest.

Arianna had made the relative values of everybody in the house clear by putting Justine into a collar and chastity belt. Jonelle was completely naked, which somehow made her seem superior to Justine and the two boys, and Arianna herself had changed into a latex kimono. Her feet were bare, and everybody else had worshipped them, Jonelle leading the way, then the boys and finally Justine, making her status tonight obvious. She'd also sucked the boys' toes, and rimmed them both before they started making out. Jared had seemed to enjoy having his anus licked a lot more than Dylan did, which had surprised Justine, who'd thought he was a stone not a sponge. Maybe Dylan's bottom was getting a little paranoid and oversensitive as he thought about what lay in store for it.

Justine tried not to stiffen up as she felt Arianna's hand caress her head. "Any idea what your home town buddy was doing with the wicked witch?" she asked. Justine had to check herself to stop her shaking her head. She'd been as surprised by that as anybody to see Juliette Gilman sitting with no less a person than the at least semi famous Madame Morticia in Regal Zone. Justine wasn't sure quite how famous MM was in real terms, but anybody who'd ever bought a copy of Skin 2 or Marquis probably knew who she was, and she'd appeared widely in fetish videos, invariably as a Dominatrix.

She'd done photo shoots for most of the big name fetish photographers, had modelled for several designers and had even appeared on the cover of respectable men's magazines in rubber knickers, as well as pouting or glowering in a load of those collections of fetish photography Taschen used to publish. Maybe she'd been trying to browbeat Juliette into lending her the slave she had in tow, Justine had thought at the time. The more she thought about that idea, the less likely it had seemed: Morticia could probably have her pick of any subby guy in the club, and most of the tops as well, and Juliette's date hadn't looked anything special. He wasn't even naked, and had been wearing a white zentai catsuit and a black leather (or leatherette) hood. Maybe he was famous and had a reputation to protect or something. The body under the tight spandex hadn't been particularly impressive, but at least it wasn't pear shaped.

If she was honest, Justine had been more surprised to see Juliette there at all than to see her schmoozing with a well known media Domme. Juliette was, as Arianna said, an old friend. Justine had known the petite doll like blonde back in school and sixth form college, and they'd always got on, even if they were part of different cliques, so they'd made a point of staying in touch when they found themselves attending the same provincial redbrick. If anything, they were were a bit closer now than they had been back then.

Justine's posse were into various trad flavours of goth and dressed the part, whereas Juliette's crew were more emo: they listened to a lot of the same records but they dressed punkier and while some of them, it seemed, were a bit kinky, they didn't flaunt it the way Justine's group had. You wouldn't have seen any member of Juliette's clade doing light stick moves with a riding crop on a dance floor, and if they wore studded collars it was a fashion statement rather than something a partner could attach a lead or a pet identity disc to. Until spotting Juliette in a banquette downstairs at Christine's fetish night, the kinkiest garment Justine had seen her wearing since starting Uni was a bubble jacket finished in orange PVC, which wasn't in the same league as the much shinier and midnight black PVC basque and thigh boots she'd been sporting in Regal Zone.

Justine decided this would be what they called TMI online for the simple question Arianna had asked her, and didn't explain anything. "No idea, Mistress. I'd always thought that she was rather vanilla, to be honest."

"Far too short to be a Dominant as well," Arianna said. Justine couldn't control her smirk over that, and was glad that her face was lowered so Arianna couldn't see any of her besides the top of her head. She was a half inch taller than Arianna's five foot seven herself. She was pretty sure that Jonelle was taller as well, though Arianna took steps to make a direct comparison like that difficult. Arianna had this idea that no woman who was less than five foot six had any business calling themselves a Dominatrix and should accept that they were meant to be a slave instead. That this made Justine a half inch more Dominant than she was wasn't something Justine had ever screwed up the nerve to mention to her, which might call the whole thesis into question even more than the fact that the internet was full of short-arsed Dominatrices. Justine sometimes wondered if the reason for all of the nosebleed high heels and platforms you saw Dommes wearing in films, clips and photos both online and in the legacy media was that some of them shared Arianna's hang up about subs who were taller than their dominants.

"Yes, Mistress," Justine said, hoping her smile had vanished.

Arianna gestured to Jonelle, who was filming the boys making out with a rather nice looking digital video camera that Justine assumed was horribly expensive.

"I think that will do for now, you nasty faggots," she said. "Just one last piece of entertainment before the main attraction starts. Slave, you may prepare them. Slut, you may look up. I'm sure you'll enjoy watching this."

Watching out of the corner of her eye, Justine saw Jonelle fix the camera to a tripod, then Step forward with a tray. Arianna had obviously put some thought into this. The tray contained two, smallish butt-plugs and a bottle of lube. There was a panicky look in Dylan's eyes when he saw it, which made an interesting contrast with Jared's expression, but he obediently bent over and parted his buttocks with his hands as Jonelle drew on a pair of disposable latex surgical gloves and lubricated her fingers. It crossed Justine's mind that this might be a deliberate attempt to spoil Jared's fun. Presumably he'd rather have had Dylan's anus as tight as possible, rather than it being stretched by a plug first.

Dylan shivered as Jonelle penetrated his rosebud with first one then two and then three fingers, smearing lubricant inside him. After lubricating Dylan's anus, Jonelle squirted lube onto the butt-plug and quickly thrust it into Dylan's ringpiece. Dylan whimpered, but otherwise took it like a man. Justine was sure that Jonelle had set up in the camera in the wrong place as it would have been interesting to see what Dylan's face was doing while his anus was fingered, lubricated and plugged.

Jonelle repeated the process with Jared, then drew off the gloves and picked up a crop. "Now twerk," she said. "Shake those asses, gay boys." Jonelle was from Birmingham, but she'd had elocution lessons to get rid of the Brummie accent. There appeared to be an element of race play in her relationship with Arianna, which Justine suspected that Arianna wouldn't have dared get into with an African American rather than a third or fourth generation UK resident of West Indian descent. She was using her normal cut glass REP diction tonight, rather than talking in ebonics, which Justine had heard her doing when she was obviously playing the submissive.

The boys started to shake their booties. Jonelle struck one, then the other with the crop, switching between boys and buttocks at random. Rather than a punishment for not putting enough effort into their twerking, it seemed calculated to make their bottoms jiggle more, which Justine definitely approved of. She found this spectacle a lot more appealing than watching the plugs insertions.

Justine felt fingers under her chin and allowed her face to be turned and lifted to meet Arianna's gaze. She had an idea that Arianna was putting just as much work into her disdainful expression as Justine was putting into keeping her own facial expression controlled and impassive. "Revolting as I find men's bodies," Arianna said, "I always enjoy watching a boy who claims to be straight sucking cock and having his poop chute fucked. I'm sure you do as well: you goths are all fag hags, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress," Justine said.

"It doesn't seem fair to keep you on the sidelines, though. I've thought of a way to involve you. You don't have any objection to being filmed with the faggots, do you, slut?"

It was a question with a right and a wrong answer. "No, Mistress," Justine said. "I'd love to be filmed taking part."

***

Justine gasped. With the attention Jared was paying to his arsehole, Dylan wasn't doing a brilliant job of eating her out, but after the amount of time she'd spent with her pussy gaping and oozing behind the front plate of a chastity belt, it wouldn't take much attention to push her over the edge: she was so wet and wide that it felt like Dylan's whole head might fit up inside her pussy if he leaned too far forwards. Justine was trying to control herself as she'd been told to wait for permission to come, and could expect some sort of inventively nasty punishment if she disobeyed. For all she knew, Arianna was planning for that. The fact that Dylan couldn't hold down a rhythm and was failing to match his licking to Jared's thrusting was sort of helping Justine contain herself.

Jonelle had filmed Justine being fastened into the piece of bondage equipment that was at least holding her upright, even if it was bending her into a z shape like the stands that doubled the price of a vintage Vox electric piano. It was a set of three narrow wooden boards in a metal frame that held two in line and one out behind. The top board was a pillory with holes for her neck and wrists, below and behind those was a narrow bench that just supported the edge of her bottom, and at the bottom a set of stocks with holes for her ankles rested on a solid baseplate. Polished metal framework connected the three boards, and supported a pair of leather straps at the sides into which Justine's thighs had been buckled. The modified kneeling position the set up imposed spread Justine's thighs wide and had those and her shoulders cramping already. Justine had been further teased by Jonelle removing her chastity belt after she was fastened into the bondage, then having both boys French kiss her, suck her nipples and tease her however else they could think of until her pussy, which the bondage pushed forwards and exposed mercilessly, looked like a split fig with sunburn.