All the Mistress’ Money – Part 5

This is part 5 of a 7-part series (click here to read the first blog in the series).

‘Keep your head up.’ Her fingernails pattered over Dawn’s heaving chest, tickling her on the inside… and then pinching the nipples tight. ‘So, you think I am fucking whore?’ Twisting to scrunch.

‘No! You’re not a whore. I’m sorry.’

‘What am I?’

‘A Dominatrix.’

The mistress released the nipples to juggle Dawn’s bust on her palms. ‘I am what kind of Dominatrix?’ Looming down as the victim cringed away. ‘This… is what you are finding out.’

She stepped back and circled her right arm to deliver a sound slap to Dawn’s left breast. Striking the side, so it ricocheted into the right and the whole bosom vacillated pendulously. The mistress mirrored the blow with the other hand. A loud clap of pain. A few more swift smacks, angling the attacks from above and below. Dawn could feel the weight of her chest swinging as she teetered behind it with clenched teeth. ‘Keep looking at me.’ Mistress Stilenskova’s pupils were fully dilated – eyes shining with radiant sadism. So beautiful. Scratching her claws around, a scathing tickle… and a few more slaps. ‘Love these big, purple nipples.’

The Dominatrix’s tight pony-tail whiplashed as she turned and strode over to the weapon-rack. A playful pantomime pose as she mused. Then taking items from the shelves and returning at a saunter, waving the nipple clamps in Dawn’s face. Each clamp consisted of two 5cm sticks, clinched together parallel, with tight elastic bands around the ends. The clamps were attached by a thin chain, more than a meter long. Mistress Stilenskova pulled one of the clamps open – hard sticks straining to snap back together. The Dominatrix deftly clipped it over the left nipple. The teat bitten flat in a violent squeeze. Air husking through Dawn’s gritted teeth. The mistress turned 360 degrees – elegant, leather-clad figure pirouetting to stay on the inside of the chain. And then attaching the second pair of elasticated sticks to the right breast. The pain seethed. The cable connecting the clamps circled the Mistress’ narrow waist, so they bit sharp as she leant back and shimmied her body.

‘Oh fuck!’

The victim’s tone was more lust than fear. Stilenskova was waving a new pair of weapons in Dawn’s face, one in each hand. Ultra-thin canes, about 30cm long. The predator’s snarl tugged the left corner of her upper lip – a glint of enamel. Their eye-contact misting in the romance of the moment, before the mistress began to strike. Cutting a cane down to whip horizontally along the top of the breast. Dawn’s whimper sliced in half by the symmetrical second attack. Stilenskova’s wrists drawing slaloming S’s, in the air, as they drummed down on the bosom.

The pain stung as the slender plastic focused the force into an intensely narrow area – thin strips of red painting onto white flesh. The Dominatrix leant back to pull the clamps tight. Her victim’s bulging bust pulled taut as she flicked the canes below to slice at the underside. Stilenskova’s lithe hips writhing her body to jerk Dawn’s clinched nipples. Then poking a weapon between the breasts and quivering it back and forth like a serpent’s tongue. A few more hard streaks, before she dropped the canes and reached down to clutch her victim’s pussy. The submissive clenched her soaking thighs around the intruding finger.    

 

‘What do you say?’ Stilenskova shifted her finger from Dawn’s lower to upper lips.

‘Thank you, Mistress.’

Dawn leant in, eyes closing dreamily as she sucked her own juices. Tasted like wild honey. Everything felt so right… so natural. The Dominatrix began moving her victim around again, un-cuffing and then re-cuffing. Returning Dawn to the position she’d started out in – bent horizontal with ass sticking out and hands shackled to the ceiling, behind and above her back. Stilenskova circled the chamber and retuned with a quiver full of bamboo sticks, drawing one out to taunt.   

‘You think I am fucking whore.’

‘No, Mistress. I’m so sorry, Mistress.’ God! It felt so good using that title! ‘You’re a Dominatrix. I’ve le… I’m learning my lesson. Thank you so much for teaching me, Mistress.’ A strange sensation – the words flowing out whilst she listened to herself in a tight grip of bonded excitement.

‘You call me whore. I give you 30 lashes with bamboo. You will count lashes. And you say “thank you” each time.’ The Dominatrix cut the air in half to test the cane… could hear the atmosphere quivering afterwards.

‘Yes, Mistress.’

‘Keep your head up and watch in mirror.’ She strode around to take up position.

‘Yes, Mistress.’

‘If you put your head down, you count wrong, or you ungrateful, then we go back and do that strike again. So make sure you do as I say.’

‘Yes, Mistress.’

‘I can’t believe you dare call me “whore”. You snooty, little, fucking bitch.’

The cane whirred through the air, cracking across the buttocks as the Dominatrix snapped her wrist. The pain slashed bright red, but Dawn swallowed it like a good submissive and croaked out the words.

‘One. Thank you, Mistress.’ The second attack looped lower, cutting clean along the line where Dawn’s thighs perked into her ass-cheeks. She gobbled down another agonising slice of pain. ‘Two… Thank you… Mistress.’ The words came out small as they gulped past the tears welling in her throat.

‘What you fucking say? Speak clearly. That one don’t count.’ She struck even harder this time. Dawn wanted to burst into tears, but she managed to shout.

‘Three. Thank you, Mistress.’

‘No! Not fucking three! The one before didn’t count, cause you not speaking clearly. And now that one didn’t count, cause you count wrong.’ She sounded genuinely furious.

‘Sorry Mistress.’ Snivelling back the sobs.

‘This one is number two.’ She lashed a lean streak across the fattest stretch of ass. Dawn tottered forward under the force, but the cuffs bit around her wrists to hold her in place.

‘Two. Thank you, Mistress.’ Another blow swept in. ‘Three. Thank you, Mistress.’

On the fourth impact, Dawn started to blubber, but managed to get her line out, loud and clear. Same for the next strike. Mistress Stilenskova kept going at the same speed. No mercy. Streaking a criss-cross of searing lines and dashes over the big, juicy flanks of flesh. Hitting so hard the force nearly broke the skin… again and again. The crack of bamboo echoing through the chamber with an evil snicker-snack. The agony seared as Dawn stared into the mirror, watching her ravishing torturer’s serpentine body: sliding, drawing, coiling and swinging. So demonically beautiful. No wonder the hubby spent so much on her. She was worth it!

Pain escalating as the beating continued relentlessly. Several more blows were discounted, because tears clogged proper enunciation. One response was (unjustly) deemed to not sound grateful enough. She’d already taken about 30 swipes by the time the official count got to 23. The 24th strike was so cruel the bamboo cane snapped clean in half. The victim shrieked and flummoxed as the cuffs pinned her to the spot. She still managed to get out her words.

‘Twenty-four. Thank you, Mistress.’ There was no pause. The Dominatrix quickly ducked in, pulled out another cane, tested it once through the air, then continued the beating. Bringing the wood whipping across to whelp the upper thighs. ‘Twenty-five. Thank you, Mistress.’ Dawn marvelled at her mistress’ cold brutality – the way she just kept going without any hint of empathy – how indescribably wonderful! ‘Twenty-six. Thank you, Mistress… Twenty-seven. Thank you, Mistress.’

The Dominatrix paused for the first time since the caning began. ‘So… snooty, little bitch. You think I am fucking whore?’

‘No, Mistress. You’re a Dominatrix.’

‘I am what kind of Dominatrix?’

‘The best kind. You’re a beautiful, powerful, sexy Dominatrix. A Goddess.’ Dawn looked up to hold the mistress in orgasmic eye-contact. ‘You’re my Dominatrix. My Mistress. My Goddess. You’re amazing. I worship you.’ The next blow swooned in. ‘Twenty-eight. Thank you, Mistress. You’re amazing.’

‘And what are you?’

‘I’m a snooty, little bitch, who needed to learn respect. I respect you so much now. Thank you, Mistress.’ Screwing her toes into the ground as she flinched. ‘Twenty-nine. Thank you, Mistress.’ The Dominatrix took a step back, her whole body sweeping in for the final assault. The victim screamed. ‘Thirty. Thank you, Mistress.’ The attacker dropped the bamboo and Dawn watched her long, leather-bound legs sidling around to the front. She held her hand out to let the blubbering submissive nuzzle against it. ‘Thank you so much, Mistress.’

She repeated it a few times as the Dominatrix stroked her hair, then she was un-cuffed from the ceiling and yanked upright. Stilenskova pulled off both nipple clamps in quick succession. Pain suddenly flooding into Dawn’s previously numbed breasts. Both bosom and buttocks burning like hearth-fires. She cried and dropped to her knees.

‘Thank you, Mistress.’ Clutching around the Dominatrix’s ankles and kissing the tops of her black stilettoes. Big, red ass waving around in the air. ‘Thank you so much.’

Click here to read the next blog in the ‘All the Mistress’ Money’ series.

Jessica Seaques
Jessica Seaques

Hi :) I’m Jess. I love traveling, daydreaming, drinking tea and snuggling cats (especially Baggins!). I also enjoy: provoking a response; pretending to be innocent; and getting into trouble. I dislike: forgotten tea that’s gone cold; blushing in public; and not being punished when I clearly deserve it.

I’m in my early twenties, recently finished university and moved to London looking for adventure… of which I found plenty…

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