Glenn and Erin Mason were a 24/7 Master/slave couple. He was the master, she was the slave. They lived in a part of the country that had a very active BDSM scene, with plenty of play parties, both public, and by invitation only. They were well known for the intensity of their play.

Glenn was a bit shorter than average, maybe 5’6” or so. He looked like a bowling ball, weighing in at about 300 pounds. He had black hair that hung below his shoulder blades, and a neat goatee that he thought made him look evil. It didn’t. He was 28, and had been kinky since his first girlfriend had asked him to tie her up, back when both were only 14.

Erin was very different. She was taller than he, and stood nearly six foot in height. But despite the difference in their heights, there was never any doubt in the minds of observers of who was master, and who was slave. She weighed perhaps 150 pounds or so, mostly in her tits and ass. She had red hair that (when it was free) hung below her ass. But usually it was up in a bun, or pony tail, or sometimes just stuffed into a bondage helmet. Her tits were the size of large melons, and her ass was, as Glenn liked to joke, big enough to park a truck on. She was 22, but had been raised in a kinky household, where her mother, and her older sisters, were all slaves to her father and her brothers.

Glenn had purchased Erin from her Father when she was 15. She was his college graduation present to himself. But despite the way their relationship had begun, they had come to love one another over the last seven years.

They had developed a reputation in the local scene for being heavy players. She was often requested as a stunt bottom for heavy demonstrations, as her ability to soak up pain was legendary, and had earned her the nickname, “Chooser of the Pain.” That was by analogy with the Norse Valkyries, to whom she bore a strong resemblance, who were known as “Choosers of the Slain.”

One night, they were at a private party, hosted by a friend who didn’t freak out when the two of them really cut loose. They had gone off to one of the outbuildings in the back yard. They were sitting for a minute, getting ready to play, when they saw another couple they didn’t know step into the play space.

The dom was short, barely five foot tall, and probably not more than one hundred pounds or so in weight. She was dark skinned, probably of African descent, but with a bit of Western European mixed in. She wore a black leather corset that lifted and displayed her generous tits. She also wore a black leather bikini panty, and black leather thigh high boots. In short, she was exactly what anyone would picture if someone asked them to visualize the stereotypical femdom.

Her slave was not what you’d imagine. She was very tall, at least six foot four, and at least 250 pounds. But she was not fat. She was super curvy, like a 5’5” 120# girl who’d been inflated. Her tits were at least basketball sized, with nipples nearly an inch long, pierced about half-a-dozen times each. Her areolas were the size of saucers.

Her body was covered in bruises, both fresh and faded. Clearly, she and her mistress played hard, and often.

“My name is Joy,” the black dom said. “Do you mind if we play over on the other side of this space? It’s the only play space here that allows blood, and I really feel the need to whip my toy to blood tonight.”

“Not at all,” Glenn answered. “I’m Glenn, by the bye, and my slut is Erin. We came here for the same reason. It’s been too long since I gave her a blood-whipping.”

“Oh, really,” Joy said. “How hard do you two usually play?”

“At times like this, I generally like to torture her until she passes out, then wake her up, and do it again. She’s pretty much a torture sponge.”

“Me, too. Perhaps you’d like to swap victims? My toy is a delight to torture. She can take anything you can dish out, without making a sound.”

“You don’t say? You know I’ll need to see that for myself.”

“Then it’s a deal? I get to take Erin on a trip to Hell, and you do the same to my toy?”

“It’s a deal. But what’s your toy’s name?”

“Who cares? It’s not worth learning their names. I just call them all ‘toy.’” Turning to Erin, she added, “you, on the other hand will call me Lady Joy, if I permit you to speak. But generally, I just want you to suffer, not to talk.”

Erin nodded, and Joy led her over to one side of the play space. Glenn led toy to the other side. Both dominants decided to chain their victims wrists up over their heads, so they could be single-tailed all over their bodies.

Both doms drew back their single-tails, and both struck.

There is no mistaking the sound of a single-tail striking flesh, and for the slaves, no mistaking the feeling.

But both slaves showed no reaction.

Glenn was determined to make toy cry out, and began to whip her furiously. He saw Joy doing the same to Erin.

It took almost a half-hour before Glenn drew blood from toy. She had remained silent that whole time. He was impressed.

He looked over to see how Joy and Erin were doing. He saw that Erin was bleeding from more than a dozen cuts, but the only sign of the pain she was in was her heavier breathing. Glenn was proud of her.

The two doms continued to whip one another’s slaves. The blood flowed freely from many cuts on each slave’s body. At last, Erin began howling her agony, though toy still remained silent.

Glenn was really enjoying whipping toy. She was clearly in agony, and her body shook with every whip stroke. Glenn wasn’t sure whether it was her obvious ability to soak up torture, or his desire to make her scream that drove him to such savage fury. All he knew was that for the first time in years, he let go, and gave full vent to his sadism.

When he finally came back to himself, he saw that toy was a mass of cuts and blood. She still hadn’t made a sound, and merely hung in her bondage.

Glenn looked around the room, and saw Erin had been whipped every bit as brutally, and was prevented from howling by having her head held between Joy’s thighs. As he watched, Joy came to a shuddering orgasm, clearly not the first she’d had from Erin’s talented tongue.

Joy noticed that Glenn had finished with toy, and pulled Erin free from between her legs.

“Thank you for letting me torture Erin,” Joy said. “She is a delight under the whip.”

“You are most welcome,” Glenn responded. “And she is. As is toy. I’ve never seen or even heard of a pain slut who could take a whipping like that without making a sound. How did you manage it?”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Joy answered him. “You let me ride that beautiful cock until I am satisfied, and then I’ll tell you. And perhaps we can let our slaves 69? I know how rare it is for toy to find a slave who isn’t at least a foot shorter than she is, so someone she can 69 with easily is a treat. Plus, watching two hot sluts get it on gets me hot, too.”