[K]&[T], LLC

The john was tied up. Everyone, even David, rushed to help with that. Mistress Cynthia inspected everything, tweaking a bit, here and there, but I think it was all about timing. By the time she got around to the lash, the john squirted on three strokes. Normally, I would be embarrassed for him, but with Mistress Cynthia I totally understood. Over on the other side, her submissive had the hooker about ready to pop. Mistress Cynthia did one quick lash on the tits, not enough to even raise a welt, and the hooker came buckets.

That would have been enough, but things were just getting started. Mistress Cynthia had the box of lashes brought to her submissive. I could see that. If the john had not been a quick fire, the submissive would have gotten the hooker to blow. Anyway, the submissive did not have permission to break posture, so she did not poke around in the box. It took a moment before one of us subs pointed out that the girl could not use her hands. Sometimes Doms can be dense.

Anyway, there was a parade of off the shelf floggers and lashes. The submissive looked at each, but shook it off, until they pulled out a Cat. It was like the whole room went in the freezer. Mistress Cynthia was NOT pleased. The submissive expected it—I could tell. Cynthia just pointed to a horse—one of those orange and white ones they use on roads. Skinny as hell.

Like before, everyone rushed to set up the scene. The rope work was rather artful. They suspended her upside down, with her hair brushing the floor. The ankles and hands were tied to the uprights so that all her weight was born by the midriff, but her legs, thighs and pussy were fully exposed. Mistress Cynthia had nothing to do with that. First she worked in a #4 ass plug, dry, but slow. Once that was done, Cynthia just added touches—mostly weights on the pussy lips, clit and tits.

Just seeing the girl hung there had my pussy running. If David had not forbidden me, I would have had my fingers in my cunt. Like with the first scene, Mistress Cynthia took it very slow. She checked everything twice, using the occasion to tweak the weights and brush the sensitive spots. Check this. They never gagged the submissive, but she never uttered a sound.

When it was time to get real, Mistress Cynthia coiled the whip and walked back to a position opposite us. Everything was set up so we could watch. A Cat is a serious thing, even though this looked like a light one. Mistress Cynthia gave it the respect it deserved. When she used it, there were four strokes, one right after the other. Then she paused. Some of the Doms were commenting on her technique. The strokes were fairly light and spread all the way from one ankle to the other. Someone, it might have been David, said "Foreplay."

Almost at the same moment, the Cat went out two more times. These were not foreplay. They were real shots and they targeted the inner knee area. All the Doms were voicing appreciation of the strikes, but I was noticing where Cynthia had not struck. I was not alone. Before long, everyone was thinking about that exposed pussy. Just before it had gone on too long, Mistress Cynthia gave her submissive permission to cum. Then the Cat bit.

Gods. I don't know how she did it, but Mistress Cynthia placed a full stroke—right down middle—and did not draw blood. The welts on the ass cheeks were livid red—two on one side and three on the other. That left four full on the pussy. The submissive came so hard the barricade jerked. I had never touched myself, but I came in sympathy and I was not alone.

I have never seen anything like it. Mistress Cynthia looked almost as done out as her submissive, who could barely walk. As soon as they were close, Cynthia and her submissive hugged like long separated lovers. Then the Big One and Miss Martel started to clear the room. It was still early, but nothing was going to top that.

Who the hell is Mistress Cynthia and what has she got to do with Francine Martel?