|An Afternoon with Mistress Alicia|
|by Louis Friend|
|© Copyright 2009 - Louis Friend - Used by permission|
|Storycodes: F/m; D/s; ts; bond; bdsm; hood; susp; toys; cons; XX|
|An Afternoon with Mistress Alicia by Louis Friend F/m; D/s; ts; bond; bdsm; hood; susp; toys; cons; XX|
I had traveled for over two hours to the remote farmhouse. There were no other cars on the same road for the last half hour of my journey. The more miles that passed, the more I came to realize just how isolated my destination was.
I had been sent here as an assignment -- a test of faith.
Greeting me at the side door of her large house, Mistress Alicia's outfit didn't match the rustic setting. She was in a black bustier with silver chains strung down the front. Her long legs were encased in thigh high stockings. There was a slight bulge in the black satin panties, telling of Mistress Alicia's trans sexuality.
She welcomed me into her home. As much as she lacked in pleasantries, she made up for in looks. Her long blonde hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, ending at the top laces of her bustier. Her golden locks played nicely off of her toned and tan skin.
Mistress Alicia lead me to a large room in the back of her house. The decor went from quaint rural abode to terrifying torture chamber as soon as I crossed the threshold. The walls of her work room were lined with a dizzying array of sex toys, torture devices, whips, chains, floggers, dildos, and too many things that I couldn't even recognize. There was a shelf along one wall that was lined with mannequin heads, each wearing a leather hood of a different configuration. She chose one of these for me -- it was a full-head hood with snaps available to cover the mouth and eyes. For now, neither of these were in place.
My head now encased, she instructed me to remove all of my clothes and kneel on the coir fiber floor mat before her ornate throne. The prickly fibers bit at my flesh as my bare legs kneeled on them. While I waited, I began to hear the faint sounds of music. Hearing anything in the hood was a bit of a challenge and I was afraid that I might miss something she might say.
Mistress Alicia soon joined me, sitting before me on Her throne. She allowed me to kneel down and kiss her boots before she had me stand and move to the large bondage playpen that was the centerpiece of the room. Standing approximately ten feet tall, the playpen looked like a overly large bed with straps and buckles instead of a mattress. On every post were series of hooks and cuffs that dangled freely. She placed each of my wrists into one of these and did the same for my ankles. I was now helpless and exposed. My physical reaction to this and to her hot breath on my neck was to pump more blood to my nether regions. I was scared and aroused at once.
She began scratching her nails, long and red, down my back. This felt wonderful at first (I can never have my back scratched enough) until she started putting a lot of pressure behind her hands. Her nails started tearing into me. It felt as if she was rending my flesh with her talons. Just when I thought she'd stop, she began all over again -- raking her nails up my arms, down across my buttocks, across my chest. No place was safe.
After a momentary pause (while I was gasping for breath), Mistress Alicia's hands came around me from either side. I felt her pinching my nipples, getting them hard enough to then place small rubber clamps on each of them. The pain from these tiny, biting clamps was excruciating. And that paled in comparison to the sensation that came from the weights that she attached to the chain that ran between the two.
Going back behind me, I began to feel the small pricks of a Wartenburg Wheel on my flesh. First one and then a second one. The tiny but powerful points of pain felt as if they were overloading my nervous system. Mistress Alicia began rolling them over me in time with the music that was now starting to pick up pace.
I was crying out behind my mask but was muffled as Mistress had blocked the slit for my mouth. I was taking in as much air as I could through my nose and felt myself struggling against the bonds that held my hands and ankles. Already it felt as though my strength were giving out. I felt like a rag doll that Mistress Alicia was taking apart stitch by stitch.
Just when I thought that she was done with the Wartenburg Wheel, she would start again. I imagined my flesh as being dotted with a thousand pin pricks.
I was almost grateful when I felt the first blow from the flogger on my back. This was followed quickly by a barrage of blows. The music from the unseen stereo began to be as much of a presence in the room as Mistress Alicia. It was Gustav Holst's "The Planets" and "Mars, The War Bringer" was beginning to crescendo. Blows from the floggers in her left and right hands criss-crossed across me. Each beat of the music was accompanied by a slap of leather on skin.
The cries under my mask were building. I knew that I was struggling and squirming, despite my desire to be a good slave to Mistress Alicia and take what she was giving to me. I wanted to stand straight and take each blow but I couldn't do it. I was in agony and there was no sign of it stopping. It was only building, bigger and bigger.
Harder and harder she beat me. I was pulling against the leather and steel that held my limbs in place. I wanted to escape from the pain but nothing was allowing me. Tears were streaming from my eyes under the leather mask. It became a syncopated symphony of pain as the leather straps crossed my flesh.
Finally, the music reached its apex and the beating concluded in a flurry of unmerciful blows.
I feel as if I blacked out a bit. I have no actual memory of Mistress Alicia releasing me from my bonds. The next thing I can recall is being bound across the free-hanging straps of her combination swing / bondage bed. Not giving me much time to relax or acclimate myself to a world without pain, she removed the nipple clamps quickly, allowing the blood to flow back fast. I screamed behind my leather mask.
The world went black as the eye mask was secured and everything felt like a dream (or a bit of a nightmare), being suspended as I was. Without warning, I began to feel the bite of coldness on parts of my flesh. It felt as if I was being iced from head to toe. The feel of cool wetness was pleasant at first but that changed rather quickly.
A low hum and a crackle. I could smell the ozone before I felt the sharp prick from what had to be a violet wand as it applied to my legs.... and thighs... and chest... and stomach... and prick.
I was thrashing against the bonds that held me, but they held me tightly in place. Over and over, she touched the electrical device to my wet skin. The water transmitted the pain with great intensity. My body still shook and twitched with each zap of the wand and the pain still screamed through me, but my mind had started going off, escaping from the torture.
Thoroughly broken, Mistress Alicia released me from my bonds, allowing my feet and knees to touch the floor as I kneeled once again before her.
"You are allowed to pay tribute to my feet," she said. "You may give your seed to me there, and then clean them with your mouth."
I began stroking myself, completely enamored by this person who had taken me so far past my limits of pain. It only took a few strokes before I was spewing my spunk across the black leather of her boots. After shaking off the final drops of my ejaculation, I got down on all fours and began slurping the semen off of her while she leaned down and petted my head like a poodle.
Once her boots were clean, Mistress Alicia had me stand up and she used a cold cloth to wipe my body down, cleansing me of everything. She allowed me to dress again and bid me farewell.
I never came down that dusty road again. I had been sent there by my owner and She had wanted me to spend an afternoon experiencing the harsh hand of Mistress Alicia. I was thankful for her time.
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