Chapter 4 Playing For the Other Team

That night, the slave slept longer and better than she had since she'd arrived. It was still not enough; and when Master Thomas woke her, she was still tired.

Her dreams were, again, filled with erotic images.

Her master was fucking her up the ass, while she was licking his shoes.

The giant cock she was shimmying up in the temple came explosively, raining cum down on her and all the worshippers. She eagerly lapped up every drop she could find, then bathed in the precious fluid, rubbing it into her body.

Thomas tapped on the cage. "Wake up, Slave."

She opened her eyes immediately. "Good morning, Master," she said, though she had no idea what time it really was.

He handed her the key to the lock. "Today is a special day. Shower, and your breakfast will be waiting for you. Eat quickly."

The slave scrambled out of the cage, hurried through her cleaning. It was obvious that her master was excited about something. So, naturally, she was too.

Once she had dried herself, she wolfed down her breakfast of cornflakes and banana. She swallowed her daily pills.

Thomas stood by, watching.

After her last bite, he attached a leash to her collar. "Follow me," he said.

She rushed to keep up with her master's rapid pace, with her hands clasped behind her back.

He led her back to the frame. "You need to be shaved," he informed her.

The girl felt like saying "Again? We did that yesterday." But she held her tongue.

He quickly reshaved her pits and bush.

As he escorted her back to her room, he grabbed a shoebox that was sitting on a shelf.

Thomas led her to the bathroom. Out of the box, he pulled a brush, a curling iron, and a small handheld hair dryer. "Your hair is a mess. Get it looking good."

For a few seconds, she stared at the instruments. It seamed so long since she'd used any of these tools. She picked up the curling iron, and went to work. After about fifteen minutes, her hair looked shiny and flowing. It had not looked this good since she'd left home.

"Very good," he said.

She blushed from his praise.

Her master pulled out a bottle of rouge. "I'll put this on," he said.

Using just a little, he spread some on her cheeks.

"Why are you putting this on me?" she asked.

"You are a little pale, from being inside all the time. I'm just putting a little color to your face."

He then applied a small dab on each nipple.

"But, why there?"

Without answering, he moved down and applied some to her pussy lips.

She gasped. "And there!?"

"It gives the illusion that you are more turned on than you really are."

"Oh, I see."

Thomas escorted her back to her cage. "Get in. Head first, this time."

She did.

He locked the gate behind her, with the padlock.

For the first she could remember, Master Thomas looked nervous. "We have a special visitor today, her name is Mistress Constance."

"A woman, Master?" she asked in surprise.

He nodded. "You will find not all owners are men; and many masters already own other female slaves, that you will need to interact with. This is a type of training I can't give you. So I invited, Constance."

The slave did not look happy. "I understand, Master."

"Call her 'Mistress' or 'Mistress Candace. Nothing else."

"I understand."

"For however long she is here, she is your master. I doubt I will be in while she is here. If I am, I can override her orders. But don't expect it."

Fears started creeping up on her. "I'll miss you, Master."

"Every master or mistress has a different style. You will find she will be more lenient in some matters, and crueler in others. Then again, she might be crueler all around."

She started to weep. "I'm scared, Master."

Thomas did not show any empathy. "Imagine how it will be when you leave here for good."

Heading for the exit, he said. "She'll be here in a few minutes."

After he left, she tried to calm herself. Don't worry about things you can't control, she told herself. Just take everything as they come.

About three minutes after Thomas left, Constance walked in. She was in her thirties, had cold gray eyes, and long blonde hair that was pulled back into a severe ponytail that hung down to her waist.

All she wore was a red leather corset and a pair of six inch high red stiletto heel shoes. She had B cup breasts that were pushed up by the corset; and a blonde bush that had been trimmed down to just a tuft above her clit.

Her most distinctive trait was her height. She stood four foot nine, if that. Even crouched on the ground, and her wearing stiletto heels, the slave could tell she was short.

She almost smiled at the sight of this short woman, with a red riding crop under one arm, strutting in like she owned the place. But she stopped herself. You can't judge a book by its cover.

"Good morning, Slave," she said in a clear alto voice.

"Good morning ... Mistress," she replied.

The dominatrix started pacing in front of the cage, like she was addressing her troops. "That's right. I'm Mistress Constance; and for as long as I want, I own your ass."

"And you are a lowly slave, whose name I don't know. What is your name?"

She cowered in her cage. "I have no name. I'm just a slave."

This caused her to pause. "I see. But at some point you had a name, right?"

The slave thought back. It seemed so long ago. "Yes..." she answered hesitantly.

"Then tell me your old name. Come on, just between us girls."

Her old name swam to the surface. "I ... I ... I ... I have no name. I'm just a slave."

Constance nodded. "Very good. You passed the first test."

She darted out the door, coming back with an electronic tablet and a small tote bag. She wrote something on the tablet then set it down on the desk. Picking up the riding crop, and pulling out the cage key from the bag, she walked over to the trapped slave.

"There are two main jobs of a slave. Do you know what they are?" Constance asked, as she unlocked the cage.

She shook her head no, as she crawled out.

"To give pleasure, and to take pain.

"Now, say it to me."

"To give..."

"No!" she cried, lashing out with her crop.

The slave winced at the red mark on her right arm.

"This is about you. Your answer should start, 'My main jobs as a slave..."

"My main job as a slave, is to give pleasure and to take pain."

"Very good.

"During this session, I will teach you about giving pleasure. But I suspect you already know quite a bit about taking pain. Am I right?"

The girl nodded her head miserably.

"Then that is the next thing I will test you on.

"Put your hands on the wall, ass sticking out."

The brown-haired slave rushed to comply.

"That's good. Now spread your legs wide ... wider. Perfect."

"Now count out my lashes."

Whap! The first strike from the riding crop hit her right ass cheek.

She hissed. "One, Mistress!"

Whap! The second lash hit her left rump.

Through gritted teeth, the slave called out "Two, Mistress!"

By the twentieth hit, she hadn't cried out in pain yet. Welts were forming on her back, and Constance was afraid if she went any further, there might be permanent scarring. "Just two more, Slave. Be sure to keep counting."

She panted, bathed in sweat. "Yes, Mistress."

Still swinging at full force, Constance lashed out, hitting her on the right labium.

She finally howled in pain. "Twenty-one, Mistress!" she cried.

Even knowing that another strike, just like the last one, was coming, the young slave didn't wiggle or move.

The last blow hit her on the left labium, as expected.

Again she wailed in pain, then said "Twenty-two, Mistress!"

The dominatrix nodded in satisfaction. "You may stand now."

The slave stood in her assigned position, with her hands behind her back, and her legs spread. She was in pain, and sweat was getting in her eyes; but she didn't move.

The girl with no name was again struck by how short her mistress was. Her face was even with her tits. The thought that she could lean forward and lick them, sent shivers down her spine.

Again, Constance wrote something on her electronic notepad. She fished a pair of handcuffs out of her bag and took them to her slave. She snapped the restraints on the girl's wrists, behind her back. "Climb onto the bed, lay flat on your back," she ordered.

She did so.

"As a reward for standing up so well to my whip, I'm going to do something Thomas wouldn't do in a million years."

"Thank you, Mistress."

The dominatrix winked at her. "Don't thank me until you mean it.

"Now spread your legs and bend your knees, like I was going to fuck you missionary position."

A wave of fear hit her. "Please, Mistress. I-I've never..."

Constance softly hushed her, gently brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. "You don't have to do anything. Just lean back, relax, and let me do all the work." She crawled between the submissive's legs, and made a long lick up her slit.

The slave let out a gasp. "Oh yes!"

The petite woman smiled. "You're a juicy one, aren't you." With the tip of her tongue, she flicked her clit.

She gasped, and squirmed with pleasure.

Constance licked, swirled, and nipped at the slave's love button.

She quickly came hard, her hips bucking.

The domme crawled away, off to the girl's side. "See? That's all there is to it."

The girl looked disappointed. "Couldn't you do a little more, Mistress?"

"Sorry. For a beginning sub, I give only one orgasm."

She leaned back and spread her legs. "Now, you try."

With trepidation, she crawled between the dominatrix's legs, her hands still cuffed.

"To warm up, lick up and down my slit ... Not too fast! Take your time. Savor!

You see my clit on top? Swirl your tongue around it. Don't be too rough. You know how sensitive it can get ... Oh yes! Very nice! You have some real skills, Slave."

She looked up. "Thank you, Mistress."

"Some women will like to be fucked with your tongue. It doesn't do much for me. But you need to learn it. Either roll up your tongue, or make it as thin as possible, then stick it in my snatch...

"Whoa! Slave! That is some tongue you have. You are going to be very popular with the girls."

The slave did not reply to Constance. She was too busy shoving her tongue inside her.

"Now lick up my clit. More aggressive this time. Really split those lips. When you reach the clit, give it a big lick with that fat tongue of yours ... Yes! Shit! Fuck!"

"Did you come, Mistress?"

"Very close. Now, play with my clit with your mouth, like I did you. Watch me, and see what works. Every woman is different.

After a little experimenting, the slave found that Candace like having her clit sucked on, and flicked with her tongue at the same time.

This set off a massive, possibly multiple, orgasm. The top arched her back and yelled, "Yes! Yes! Yes! ... Don't stop. For the love of God, Don't stop!"

For the next twenty minutes, the slave had her face buried in the mistress' snatch, bringing her to ever escalating orgasms.

Finally, Constance called out, "Enough! God you're good!"

The submissive crawled away, her tongue and mouth very tired.

"Are you sure you've never eaten pussy before?"

She shook her head no.

"Well, you're a natural. That tongue of yours should be bronzed." The domme raised herself up to her elbows.

The girl knelt next to her feet. "Thank you, Mistress."

Constance climbed off the bed, and unfastened the handcuffs. "Get on the floor, on all fours."

She scrambled to comply.

Fishing into her tote, she pulled out something. "Open your mouth ... Wider ... That's good."

She jammed a metal bit, encased in foam rubber, as far back as the slave's mouth would allow. A leather strap, attached to both ends of the bit, was looped over her head; preventing her from spitting it out.

Walking around to her rear, the petite dominatrix, with no warning, shoved a butt plug up her ass.

The slave cringed, waiting for a shock, but it never came. Looking back, she saw a horse's tail sticking out. She wiggled her hips, and felt the tail hit both of her ass cheeks.

Constance stood next to her hips. "Wish I could have brought my saddle and spurs, but my baggage space was limited. Oh well."

With one fluid move, the dominatrix swung her leg over the slave and sat on her rear, their coccyges touching. She bent her knees so they didn't touch the ground.