|Headgear from Hell|
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|© Copyright 2014 - anaerobe - Used by permission|
|Storycodes: F+/m; D/s; dommes; dungeon; cell; latex; catsuit; hood; inf; gag; bond; breathplay; vacbed; catheter; facesit; cage; coffin; encased; mast; climax; cons; XX||
|Headgear from Hell 2 anaerobe F+/m; D/s; dommes; dungeon; cell; latex; catsuit; hood; inf; gag; bond; breathplay; vacbed; catheter; facesit; cage; coffin; encased; mast; climax; cons; XX|
|story continued from part one
Part 2: At Inga’s Mercy
Ira already had the feeling that Bettina had prepared him for a domination session that would make his first day seem easy. Inga locked the chain from the second alcove’s arch to his collar post as she removed Bettina’s from the first. She was a solid, muscular woman of about 35, with broad cheeks & a diminutive, but graceful nose with a straight bridge & slightly upturned tip. She had long blond hair that hung in two braided pigtails, & she wore an all black well polished latex catsuit stretched to its limits. Her powerful biceps & calves glimmered in the fiery light of the hallway. “A tight-skinned shiny pork sausage with an attitude, built like a brick shithouse” thought Ira to himself. He wasn’t exactly enthralled to be her prisoner, but, all things considered, he submitted to her somewhat deliberate demeanor.
She stretched his smooth, now familiar, & increasingly fragrant rubber bladder over his head as Ira reluctantly took the gag in his mouth & she zipped the liner closed behind him. The leather outer helmet followed quickly, & was locked with Inga’s padlock in the second set of grommets. The now remaining 5 goddesses paraded through Inga’s alcove to add their locks in positions 3 through 7. Mistress Mara completed the ritual with the heaviest hardware, passing the shackle through the collar post, & Ira was back in his tight headgear-enforced bondage as Inga inflated the bladder generously.
Inga silently led Ira through the back of the second alcove into his chambers. What differed from his previous accommodations was that a black double-skinned sheet of latex was stretched over a steel frame on the bed, rather than a traditional mattress. “Get in!” She commanded roughly, as she held up the corner of the glistening vac bed. Ira obeyed, as he had by now abandoned any strategy of resistance. Inga positioned his dildo airway through a tight orifice in the top layer of the device, & he lay down on his back as she pointed, and then zipped the enclosure shut. Ira could hear the whirring of a motor & felt an intense pressure building all around him until all movement of his arms, legs, trunk, head, & neck was no longer possible. Enveloped in darkness, all he could then sense was a growing air hunger as his airway was blocked & the gag was forced more & more down his throat. Then he could feel a very heavy, muscular pair of buttocks surrounding his cheeks through the helmet, & panic again set in.
Inga rode him mercilessly, as Ira was completely helpless. He experienced the fading of consciousness several times, only to be brought back for more within moments, and then left to his own devices for what seemed like an hour or more at a time. The relative ease of asphyxia was now easily evident, as the bottom lateral airway vent had been sealed, as per Mistress Mara’s instructions. Less insertion of his airway into Inga’s brutal vagina produced the equivalent reduction in air that Bettina had to work diligently to achieve by working the dildo into her pussy up to its hilt. The process repeated all night; Ira came to dread the reduction in air flow, as he knew what followed – complete obstruction of his airway by the seemingly insensitive Inga. No sleep, just unannounced, intermittent complete asphyxia all night!
Morning came slowly after a small eternity, but Ira was in the dark & unaware of it. Inga unzipped a corner of the vac bed & felt his aching, full bladder, then unzipped his crotch with a rude “Betcha got to pee, no?” Ira nodded appreciatively, not realizing that what she had in mind was the insertion of a bladder catheter, which the determined Inga completed in seconds. Ira’s relief was short-lived, however, as it was quickly replaced by repeat enclosure in the vac bed & application of the vacuum suction. He was again helpless & could tell from the pressure on his airway that Inga was on him again. The rest of the day was a replay of the harrowing breath control he’d suffered the night before: Inga’s suffocating weight on his face, never knowing when the next breath would come, for hour after agonizing hour.
Finally, she began to release him from the bed, smiling broadly, thanking Ira for all the great service he’d given her all night & day. He was speechless, more than usual, if that was possible, for a guy whose head was already encased in a tight rubber helmet. He nodded weakly, Inga removed his catheter, & she led him out into her alcove for dinner. One by one, the 5 goddesses brought her personal key to unlock her padlock at the back of Ira’s neck, followed by Mistress Mara to release him from the master lock on his collar post. As Inga removed his headgear, Ira was blinded by the brightness, the noise, & overwhelmed by the sudden freedom from his rubber helmet enclosure. Suddenly, it occurred to him that not wearing it seemed unnatural, as if he were unprotected, nude from the neck up. He was starving & thirsty, though, so he enjoyed a sumptuous dinner with a beaming, contented Inga supervising & pouring the wine generously.
A Dungeon Furniture Obsession Awaits
At the completion of the nightly ceremony, an exceptionally tall & pretty, slender figure emerged from the third alcove, to Ira’s left, who he recognized as the silent escort who accompanied Bettina the night of his arrival. She was just stunning tonight, though, wearing a brightly gleaming transparent light brown catsuit that contrasted with her bright blond hair & perfect, lightly freckled facial features. She flashed a shy smile toward Ira, & he was ready to be all hers, anxiously accepting his helmet from her, suddenly wondering why she even bothered with the chain & padlocks. “Just to remind you” she intoned as she fastened her padlock closed, followed by those of the remaining four beauties & Mistress Mara. Vanessa, his new keeper, led him away without missing a beat, & Ira was more willing than he could have ever imagined.
Vanessa proved to be sweet & gentle. Ira’s introduction to his new quarters, however, gave him more than a little concern, as he visualized a throne-like device bolted securely in place above the head of the bed he expected to be using. Its commode-like seat with a large central open area had a solid front & hinges along the back. When lowered, it extended over a roughly circular shiny rubber padded concave base perched at a shallow depth below the middle of the heavy polished wooden seat surface, at about the same level as the bed. Two hasps were fitted into the front edge of the seat, corresponding to thick iron staples protruding from the front of the cabinet façade, which was topped with a U-shaped indentation extending down to the level of the padded concave base below the middle of the seat. A semi-circular hasp on either side of the throne fit over a steel staple fixed to the lateral cabinet wall.
“I hope you don’t mind using my face-sit box for a while” Vanessa apologetically & casually remarked to Ira, to gauge his reaction. Ira was so taken with the tall, shiny figure in front of him, as he focused on her ripe pussy gliding snugly beneath the transparent rubber of her catsuit, all he could do was smile affably & nod his agreement. “To get maximal stimulation, you see, I have to stabilize your position beneath me, so I can properly move about to best advantage” she added. Although her explanation left him wondering just how vulnerable she would have him be, Vanessa flashed the most perfectly shaped ass his way, & when Ira glimpsed her tight crack through the oblique taut wrinkles of transparent latex shifting right to left, left to right, as she strutted around the room, the only reaction he could muster was “No problem!”.
Vanessa positioned Ira gently with his head under the heavy wooden seat, lowered it down slowly, & locked the hinged brackets over the staples in front of the device. When she proceeded to lock his wrists onto the cabinet side walls, though, Ira had a sudden pang of doubt about the project, being so securely locked into her commode-like device. She smiled sweetly, though, again explaining that his restraints were only to “remind” him to stay put. He yielded reluctantly with this reassurance, being just a little too gullible for his own good, after all.
Once Ira was fastened down for the night, Vanessa suddenly became more serious, less smiley & sweet, giving Ira a little more concern. “We’re both tired & we’ve had a lot to drink, so let’s call it a night for now” she added, kissing his helmet through the face-sit box seat as she departed, locking the dead bolted door behind her. Ira brooded at his predicament for a good while, and then drifted off into a much needed slumber.
Early morning came to Ira, with a powerful urge to empty his bladder. After a decent wait, Vanessa appeared & squirted some orange juice & coffee down his airway, causing both some awkward choking & swallows, but also the enjoyment of a breakfast, such as it was. He struggled to point to his bladder, to which Vanessa responded with a matter of fact shrug of her shoulders, producing a urinal which she held for him amicably, as she explained “I can’t very well release you after the ritual of placing you exactly where I wanted you in the box, could I now?”
Before Ira knew it, Vanessa mounted the cabinet & his vision grew dark as he saw her unzip the crotch of her transparent suit slowly. He could just make out her delicate fingers spreading her labia as his air supply vanished, followed quickly by the fading of any light, as her ass cheeks covered his helmet’s lenses. He had now become skilled enough to feel the passage of the rubber rings of his dildo as each one slipped snugly past her vaginal sphincter into his captor’s juicy cave. As the bottom 2 vents had already been sealed off, Vanessa had only to pass the topmost 4 of the rings inside her to achieve complete airway control. She did so gently, sexily, using retreat alternating with pursuit of insertion relentlessly.
Vanessa massaged her clitoris throughout the process, & the longer she did this, she became more & more aroused, moaning loudly above Ira’s head. He angled his dildo forcefully to stretch the front of her vaginal lining slowly over her G-spot, then sideways, using circular motion that made his neck ache. Vanessa was getting wildly frantic with arousal, & her ample juices drained down Ira’s airway, making him swallow & gag more than ever. Finally, she just couldn’t resist, craving the filling of her vagina completely, & rammed her pelvis all the way down the dildo, forcefully onto the surface of Ira’s helmet.
Her lips met his through the rubber & leather, leaving him captive, breathless, & struggling to free his arms from the unyielding steel manacles outside the box, just inches from his ears. Vanessa held the position, groaning, sweating, & panting fiercely as she ground her ass into the face of Ira’s helmet, coming hard & long. She relaxed but was too replete with satiety to come off Ira’s dildo. He became frantic, kicking his legs & pulling mightily at his wrist restraints, until finally, Vanessa yielded & rose off the seat of the face-sit box. “I almost forgot, you’re 2 breathing holes short of a full set, aren’t you, dear?” she apologized without visible sincerity. Ira didn’t care, he could breathe, & she was still as beautiful as ever.
Vanessa released Ira from the box shortly thereafter, on one condition. She made him agree to spend the rest of the day polishing her catsuit & other accessories. “How do you think we stay looking as good as we do, if it were not for the efforts of our slaves?” she explained. Ira set about the task without delay, as it wasn’t exactly unpleasant, the catsuit being mounted tightly on Vanessa’s gorgeous body. He rubbed, slid, & stroked every inch of her long, graceful arms & legs, massaged her firm, youthful breasts, & caressed her waist & hips with obsessive attention to detail as she relaxed & dozed. Her accessories, including her face-sit box required considerable attention as well, which Ira expected to be the most difficult part. Surprisingly, the thought of her keeping him captive inside made him so horny that even the detailed polishing of the wood, steel, & rubber adorning the throne was a pleasure, & the afternoon passed before Ira knew it.
The banquet hour was again upon the small community of femdom worship. Relieved temporarily of the tight, restrictive pressure of his helmet, although tethered to the arch above Vanessa’s alcove, Ira enjoyed another bountiful meal, including a generous portion of wine, as had now become his habit. The time came for the transfer of custody for the 7 prisoners of pleasure, & Ira was able to spot Ulrike on the opposite side of the hall, where his next destination was to be found.
Enduring Ulrike’s Insatiable Appetite
The smiling face of the always energetic Ulrike greeted Ira as his collar post chain was transferred from Vanessa’s arch to Ulrike’s, with the amicable demeanor of a hospitable host welcoming an old friend. Once his helmet had been reinstalled, now with the padlocks of his 4 remaining captors, & of course, Mara’s master lock, Ira was led into his quarters by the still enthusiastic Ulrike. The furnishings were quite standard, no surprises here. The only surprise, though, was Ulrike’s approach.
She fastened Ira’s wrists & ankles to eyebolts in the bed frame, leaving him belly up, & vulnerable for whatever she had in mind. She mounted him forcefully, grinding away for a few moments to ensure an evolving erection, then opened both his & her crotch zips to take him in for a ride. “We’ve already dispensed with the formality of dildo sex the other night, didn’t we? So why not concentrate on my favorite, being your top & seeing how many times I can cum?”
It sounded like an innocent enough plan, until Ira realized after 2 or 3 go arounds, that he was going to run out of steam more quickly than she would. Each time, it took Ulrike a little longer to cum, although her reaction was more excited & wilder each time. Ira was starting to think that he could achieve maximal stimulation of her pussy more easily with his dildo than his dick. He ran out of the strategic moves he’d always relied on to stimulate a woman’s vagina & the energy to implement them. After the 4th such event, he was exhausted, & just laid on the bed as limp as a rag doll that she would have played with as a young girl. She was barely satisfied, but couldn’t easily coax another erection out of him, so abandoned the effort & left him for the evening. Restrained as he was, he wondered why she bothered to lock the heavy prison door behind her as she left.
Morning came brightly as Ira ached to pee, having little interest in sexual adventure. Ulrike appeared early, held a urinal for him, and then proceeded to stroke first the smooth latex of his catsuit along his chest, abdomen, & legs, then his genitals. Ira couldn’t help himself, & Ulrike had her way with him all over again. Left to recover for only a few minutes, her expert massage produced another erection, & another round of penetration, thrusting, & orgasm.
The morning wore into afternoon. Ira was depleted, & when she came back for more, unable to coax another erection from his sore, drained, & overworked member, she wore a disappointed look of resignation. “Now you see, Ira, what the dildo is for!” she said, initiating a change in strategy as she mounted his face with her dripping, now heavily used pussy. She was easily able to pass 4 rings of the dildo inside her now well prepared sphincter, & he was again her breath control captive. Although he was skillful, she had youth & energy to spare, & came back again & again.
Finally, Ira was freed from his bonds with Ulrike’s announcement. “I’ll pick you up in 30 minutes for banquet, so clean up & rejoice in the fact that you’ve survived!” This perspective of course left Ira with the uncomfortable impression that not all guests had been as lucky. Ulrike had used him unrelentingly, & relief that he was now on the far side of this nymphomaniac’s abuse was all Ira could feel.
The banquet was again lavish, Ulrike smiling as enthusiastically as she did when she accepted Ira as her charge. The wine flowed generously as usual, easing Ira’s soreness from the activity that had been forced on him, imparting to him a sense of invulnerability for his impending transfer to a new mistress; he could do this, he told himself.
Ira’s next keeper was a petite brunette, Maria, who wore a chartreuse high gloss catsuit with a narrow waisted black corset. Her hair was straight & shiny, framing her cute, diminutive features with a classic looking glass symmetry that Ira found irresistible. After the application of the 3 padlocks on his reinstalled helmet, as well as Mara’s inevitable master lock, she led him through her alcove into his prison for the night. Bright primary colors greeted his eyes, in the form of several large cubes of shiny, soft latex. “Allow me to install you” Maria broke the silence firmly. She stretched the internal sleeves of a day glow green cube that matched her suit over his helmet, so that she was able to cinch & lock a tight collar around his neck, leaving his head exposed at the surface of the cube. Maria then slid a second circular belt down to Ira’s waist & locked this to leave only his legs exposed on the opposite side of the cube from his head. His arms were effectively useless, being confined in the interior of the latex cube.
All Maria had to do to obtain her pleasure with Ira was now to unzip her crotch, & use his head to massage her clit, waiting until she became wet with anticipation. She toyed with the end of his dildo, sliding it rhythmically into her tight, eager cunt. Finally, in a fit of passion, he was in, well beyond the critical 3 rings that allowed him air through the lateral dildo vents. He forced himself to remain calm, & massage Maria gently, then forcefully from the inside until she came violently & released him to breathe again. Maria left for the night, locking Ira away for her use in the morning.
Maria reappeared as anticipated, relieving his bladder as the others had done, then proceeded to play with his genitals, exposed as they were for her pleasure. Stroking, squeezing, & rubbing, Ira’s reflexes again took over with a strong erection, & Maria used it without reservation, positioning his entire cube over her hips. Ira was in the unusual position of being on top, but restrained. Maria had control over the entire encounter for her pleasure exclusively.
Another dildo session in the afternoon, & the time had come for the evening banquet & inevitable transfer of custody. Maria graciously released Ira, gave him half an hour to prepare. After the removal of his helmet, quenching his thirst, & filling his stomach with a meal fit for a king, Ira prepared himself for the next challenge awaiting him.
Caged for Pleasure
Ira spotted the mistress next in line for his ritual abuse to his left. She was Svetlana, the pleasingly plump gal in bright royal blue latex who had subdued the resistor on the first night of his adventure. No, Ira had no intention of messing with her, as he recalled the very roughly forced enslavement the rebel had endured. She gracefully replaced his headgear after thoughtfully cleansing it for Ira, and then locked him back into it for the night. The 7th goddess & Mistress Mara followed, & he was led away, into the back of Svetlana’s alcove. His routine demeanor turned to dismay when she abruptly forced him into a standing cage, drawing his face through the middle of 3 oval spaces about 5 feet above the floor in the front door of the cage.
Svetlana quickly locked the D rings over his temples to the oval frame, opened his crotch zipper, & drew his genitals through a round opening in the rubberized metal lattice of the door, holding his cock & balls firmly in the ring with a tight adjustable rubberized metal drawstring. As he contemplated his newest evolving predicament, she locked long chains to the D rings on either side of his neck, looping rhe chains through the sides of the cage. Svetlana slammed the door shut, locking it securely with a heavy padlock, & walked calmly away with a ring full of keys before Ira could appreciate the gravity of the situation.
He stood for awhile with his dildo & dick protruding from the front door of the cage, unable to do much else. As time slowly passed, he slumped more & more, the D rings over his temples & neck supporting more of his weight & keeping him upright. This process, however, put increasing pressure on his genitals, in effect producing a very involuntary, protracted, & not completely pleasurable erection. He noted a series of belts & swings suspended from the ceiling in front of his face, wondered what use they may be put to, but dismissed his naïve curiosity, not being terribly insightful about these things.
Svetlana re-entered the small room, addressing him with a sardonic smirk. “So, it looks like you’ve ripened & firmed up a bit for me, haven’t you, my dear?”
To Ira’s further surprise, Ulrike followed her inside, latching & locking the heavy door from the inside. The two conferred for a moment in whispers, then Ulrike held Svetlana’s legs & helped her up into the swing positioned at face level. Svetlana tightened the belts of the swing around her waist, inserting her legs & knees into the ovals on either side of Ira’s head in the door of the cage, positioning her pussy in front of Ira’s face. Ulrike then began stroking & sucking at his dick, as Svetlana massaged Ira’s dildo into her hungry, ready pussy.
So here was our hero, down to 2 lateral dildo vents for air, Svetlana clenching his head between her knees & thighs, as the unrelenting Ulrike milked his dick with her tongue & throat. He was inextricably fastened to the rubberized metal cage & suffering in near asphyxia & testicular distress.
The two lovelies worked him over for a small eternity, switched places for a time, then became bored, & eventually took their leave of their exhausted caged slave. Ira slept fitfully, hanging by his D rings & balls. Svetlana chastised him in the late morning for peeing on the floor, released him from his bonds, & set him to work cleaning up after himself. The remainder of the afternoon was spent polishing the latex draperies & other furnishings of Svetlana’s alcove, then the preparation for the final ritual banquet experience of the week.
Ira’s Final Challenge In Sensory Deprivation
The Friday night banquet was not to be outdone by its predecessors. No expense was spared to ensure that the guests of Mara’s mansion left on a high note. Caviar, champagne, pâté, & seafood flowed like there was no tomorrow, for, in fact, there was no tomorrow in terms of the femdom experience the guests could look forward to. A little tipsy, but still wary, Ira eyed the purveyor of his final challenge, Katarina. She was the sturdy brunette in bright yellow latex he recognized from the opening night of the program, recalling the curt, businesslike manner with which she had subdued her slave, the first victim of the initiation process. Her demeanor now seemed a little more mean-spirited, however, as she wore more of a sneer than he recalled, & didn’t smile unless seemingly forced to do so by social circumstance during the banquet. He realized that mean could be good, a turn-on to some submissive types, & wondered as to whether he was one of them. Ira therefore felt increasingly unsure as to how he felt, submitting to this muscular woman with a forceful, determined style.
Katarina slid his headgear on roughly & swiftly, but accurately, reflecting the experience she obviously had in applying the device so as to do so in the shortest amount of time, with the least resistance. Before he knew it, Ira felt the clink of her padlock in the back of his helmet, followed promptly by Mara’s heavy master lock. The inflation was tolerable, he was used to it by now, but he did cringe a little, drawing away as if to say, “Enough” when Katarina reached the point of pain. She sealed the valve & he was back in servitude for another long night.
Entering his chamber at the back of Katarina’s alcove, Ira saw no bed, only a hard, shiny, massive black rubber coffin. It looked like an Egyptian sarcophagus, hexagonal in shape, with the wider space for the occupant’s shoulders tapering progressively to the foot of the device. The closed top had an interesting feature, in that the surface over the face was formed into a smooth, concave excavation corresponding perfectly to the butt cheeks of the fit, muscular Katarina. Ira’s eyes followed the outline of the depression down onto the front panel of the coffin on either side, which led seamlessly into U-shaped gutters corresponding to the back of Katarina’s thighs. Stirrups at the sides of the rubber box clearly indicated the purpose of the contoured seat & thigh supports. A round hole at the bottom of the crack between the outline of the cheeks marked the bottom end of the raised ridge which occupied the vertical centerline between the firm latex cheek receptacles. Clamps with accommodations for padlocks were positioned on all 6 sides of the rubber coffin.
Even Ira knew that he was in for a rough night. Katarina grabbed his cock & matter of factly inserted a urinary catheter, attached to a leg bag at his side. His stomach morphed into a tight knot as she lifted the heavy hinged front panel & gestured for Ira to lie down inside. Her manner left little room for discussion, & he figured he’d come this far, so he gingerly slid his fingers along the smooth, shiny latex interior of the device. It gave a little, predicting a flexible, soft, enveloping experience. The interior of the front panel also was lined by a thick, firm, shiny latex, head to toe, with a round hole destined to receive his dildo. The surface at that particular spot was the thinnest, suggesting that the external user of the device would have the closest proximity to the base of the dildo in this spot, once positioned appropriately. “What are you waiting for, you pitiful slut?” Katarina angrily asked, raising her voice just enough to give Ira an idea of what she might be capable. He climbed in obediently now, not really being capable of imaging what else he could do.
On entry, Ira shifted around to make himself as comfortable as possible. The bottom of the coffin fit like a glove. Especially surprising was the depression designed to accept Mara’s master padlock, which hung down into a narrow open space behind his head, & the metal post at the back of his collar. Katarina promptly, without a moment’s hesitation, lowered the hinged front panel over Ira’s dildo, making sure its insertion in its designated orifice was complete. Ira felt a heavy, suffocating pressure evenly over his chest, abdomen, & extremities, then immediately heard the snap of 6 clamps around the outside of the coffin, & the click of a padlock closing after each of the ominous-sounding metal snapping sounds of the clamps. A sliding pin crossed under the back of his neck, locking into place through the open space inside Mara’s closed U-shaped padlock. “Stupid shithead!” he heard faintly as Katarina yelled when he heard her leave, then lock the heavy alcove door from the outside.
Ira lay in the dark, warm silence of his form-fitting rubber cocoon for what seemed like hours. He had no idea as to the passage of time, only noting the effort of lifting his chest to breathe under the heavy rubber coffin lid. He was unable to turn or lift his head as it was held fast at the back of his neck by his collar post. His hands & feet were tightly immobilized, his hips pinned down firmly. He started to wonder, was he already really dead & buried, having only imagined his bizarre journey to this place? Ira’s only contact with the outside world came hours later in the form of Katarina’s cursing, “Hello, idiot! Are you ready for a workout?”
Katarina flicked Ira’s dildo around, then mounted the outside of the coffin’s front panel. Ira almost immediately felt the blockage of his airway, as only 1 lateral vent remained for his use, followed quickly by extra pressure through the rubber buttocks of the coffin against his cheeks & temples. She toyed with him for a time, then apparently became progressively more agitated. Ira felt the force of her buttocks through the thick rubber panel, first landing & rising rhythmically, then pausing just a little more with each landing. She twisted side to side, front to back, vigorously, & Ira angled the device into her, but was impeded from his best performance by the heavy rubber panel.
Soon, though, he felt her land harder & longer with each stroke, until she applied her muscular butt firmly in place with unrelenting force. She held the position, squirming, as Ira felt the characteristic panic of oxygen deprivation setting in. He was completely helpless to move, signal Katarina (as if she might actually listen), or react in any way. Completely at her mercy, Ira vainly bucked & rolled, to no avail, as Katarina, thoroughly enjoying airtight control, wildly came & gave out a scream even Ira could hear in his bondage.
“Get off, get off, now!” Ira could only voice the words in his head, as Katarina prolonged the agony for him at her pleasure as she luxuriated in the aftermath of her orgasm. He began to hallucinate, visualizing imagery of his week at the femdom mansion, replaying the sick, masochistic adventures he’d gotten himself into in the eye of his mind. Had he made a hugely wrong decision in entrusting his money & his physical welfare to this band of power-crazed women? Just at the point that consciousness faded, he felt Katarina lift off him & the sweet, sweet freshness of air filled his lungs. She cursed at him again as she left, “Fucking worm, did you enjoy that?” Anger was clearly her strong suit.
Hours later, Ira couldn’t tell how many, he heard Katarina unlocking the padlocks, clamps & horizontal pin behind his head that had held him firmly in place, & the lid slowly lifted off him. He was now able to expand his chest, a very wonderful luxury he hadn’t felt in too many hours. Katarina still toyed with him, teasing. “Had a good time, asshole? Did you enjoy dying for awhile? How about another night in the coffin?” she sneered as she lowered the lid down onto him once more.
“No, please, Mistress Katarina, I’ll do anything, not another night” Ira pleaded.
“I’ll bet you will do anything, you shitty little prick!” she responded, as she removed his urinary catheter. “Anyway, it’s Saturday morning, so I need you to clean up & prepare for the concluding brunch. It’s time to graduate, schmuck-face! Get ready”.
The Commencement Ceremony
Ira was hungry, thirsty, & exhausted, but exulted in the freedom once released from his headgear. The brunch was as lavish as the evening banquet meals, quickly satiating the empty stomachs of the worn out guests & their hosts. The generously available champagne went a long way to produce a general sense of relaxation & camaraderie. Mistress Mara addressed the group ceremoniously, “You may all take a well-deserved victory lap. All of our guests this week performed well, & it is our sincere hope they have thoroughly enjoyed the process. I’d like to call each of our guests to the podium to receive their headgear as a souvenir in addition to the remainder of the attire included in the package. Congratulations!”
Mistress Mara gestured to each of the now liberated captives to approach the stage, where she presented them with their well-worn headgear in a velvet-lined hard-shelled carrying case suitable for travel, capped by an additional toast of champagne & a warm embrace. When Ira’s turn came, Mistress Mara gave him an especially warm smile & a tight hug, sliding gracefully up against his crotch, lingering just barely long enough to arouse his notice. Her facial expression was something of a Mae West kind of wink, as if to say, “Come up & see me sometime, big boy!” Ira dismissed the incident as a figment of his fatigue-fueled imagination, & returned to Katarina’s alcove.
“I wish you all safe travels & it is our hope that you may return someday as post-graduate participants, should you see fit” Mistress Mara cracked her whip to formally end the session, adding, “Katya, your driver, will be waiting in the courtyard to assist you in returning to the airport. Those of you to my left may begin your departure, as two trips are likely to be necessary.”
Ira now realized that the time had come to say his goodbyes. He was glad that the departing guests were those to Mistress Mara’s left, which may or may not have been coincidental, as this resulted in his departure being the last. He warmly hugged & kissed all 7 of his overseers with thanks for their gracious treatment. He saved the last goodbye for Bettina, feeling that she had given him the courage to face the ordeals provided by the others. She occupied an especially thankful spot in his heart of hearts, no matter what future endeavors he might encounter.
As he gathered his baggage & waited for his ride to the airport with Katya in a cold drizzle under an overhang in the courtyard, Ira felt a pang of nostalgia. As it grew, he recognized this emotion to actually be impending remorse, an intense reluctance to leave the womb of the strictly managed but lavishly welcoming mansion that had been his refuge from his dull, ordinary life during the past week. Just then, he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Bettina. “Come with me. Mistress Mara wishes to have a word with you,” she smiled smugly, knowing more than he realized, & led Ira back into the Hall of Judgment, behind the stage, to the madam’s private quarters. Bettina curtsied politely in front of Mistress Mara, & took her leave.
“Mr. Miller,” Mistress Mara began, “I see the reviews from each of your seven dominatrix’s this week have been exemplary. You seem to have mastered a fair command of vaginal anatomy, not to mention more than average respiratory reserve, as we like to call it. Your refractory time between arousals is also generally better than our usual experience would predict. I would like to offer you a position with our wait staff. You will wear latex at all possible times, provided at our expense. Social gatherings between our wait staff & the supervisors of our guests are generally available & anticipated in the setting of a friendly family of working professionals. Your compensation would begin at €1000 per month, but may be supplemented, according to your performance, as my personal consort, should this meet with my pleasure from time to time. What say you?”
Ira was speechless. He had little idea he’d been graded all week, much less exceeding expectations from this merry band of sexual experts. His mind suddenly reeled with the potential of a future brimming with unlimited sensual stimulation, luxury, & at an income comparable to his boring desk job at home. He could barely contain himself in his response. “Of course, I’d love to!” he blurted. “When do I start?”
“That settles it. You’re mine, along with the others, of course. By the way, you’ve already started. Bettina has unpacked your luggage, which awaits you in your new quarters. Your colleagues will fill you in as to your new duties. We shall see you at tonight’s banquet, no doubt. Welcome to the family!” Mistress Mara sealed the deal with a deep tongue massage in Ira’s mouth & firm grip on his crotch. He was sold.
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story continues in part two
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