Mistress Wanda Punishes her Slaves Is Cruel torment
I knocked on the door with some trepidation. I have never had a session with Mistress Wanda before. We had been emailing for a few weeks and I had been begging to be allowed to serve her. Finally, she had agreed and given me directions to a cottage buried way out in the woods. I arrived at 1130 am and sat waiting till my allotted time of 12 then made my way up the drive and gingerly chapped the door, nervous and excited at the same time.
She answered the door and in a curt, blunt tone said
I stepped inside and stood in the doorway. Closing the door behind me, I turned and waited. She pointed to a set of stairs to my left and said simply
“Down there. Strip naked, kneel on the floor and wait”
I did as commanded. As I got to the bottom of the stairs, I looked around the room and my eyes widened with what I saw. I was in a dungeon/ torture chamber. There was an St Andrews cross, a cage, a bondage bed, a spanking bench, a wooden pony, a throne, and a queening chair to name but a few as well as row after row of mean-looking whips, canes, riding crops and tawses.
There were also nipple clamps, weights, pinwheels and countless other implements of torture and my mind raced and my heart pounded as I looked at them. God knows which she would use and how severe it would be. I did not have time to look carefully as she could come down any minute and I needed to be ready for her so I quickly stripped naked, placed my clothes and personal effects in the basket provided and knelt on the cold, hard floor to await her entrance.
I didn’t need to wait long. It was only about ten minutes when I heard the click, click, click of her heels on the floor above me and then of her coming down the wooden staircase to where I waited. Walking over to me, my eyes were on the floor and just her boot tips were visible to me.
“Well don’t just look at them slave, kiss them”
she barked at me.
I instantly put my head down to her black boots and began to gently kiss them. I kissed all the way up to her thigh and back down, then she tapped my cheek with the other and I switched to her other boot and repeated the process.
“Stand up. Legs apart and hands behind your head”
I did as I was told and I looked at Mistress. She was an imposing person, standing at 6ft 2 inches tall. She was wearing black thigh-high boots, a black t-shirt and tight black yoga pants that highlighted the bulge between her legs to symbolise the fact she was a transsexual who wanted to humiliate her slaves
As she looked at me, my mouth was dry with nervousness, fear and excitement. She told me to go over to the St Andrews cross. I did so and still facing her, she shackled my arms above me by securing my wrists to the clips and then did the same with my ankles.
I was now helpless and exposed. Beads of sweat trickled down my body and from my forehead as I wondered what was going to happen next.
Without a word, she went over to the wall and inspected her tools. She was obviously carefully choosing which to use on me. She was not the slightest bit interested in my fear or nervousness and was taking her time. Picking up scary-looking implements and then putting them back down.
Eventually, she picked up two small clamps and walked over to me. Smirking sadistically, she squeezed the clamps in front of my face and then quickly snapped them on my nipples.
First one then the other. The pain from those biting little clamps was excruciating but made worse when she hung weights from them. I winched and yelled out in pain, only to receive a brutal slap to the face.
“SHUT UP” she yelled “If I want to hear your voice I’ll tell you you’re allowed to speak”
I held my silence by biting my bottom lip hard while she flicked the clamps and swung the weights. My face contorted in pain, she was enjoying the look she was seeing. Moving back over to the wall, she came back with a small riding crop. Swishing it a few times in the air, I shifted my feet nervously but I could not close my legs or pull my arms down to protect myself. She stared at me and then quickly and swiftly like a cobra grabbed my balls and twisted them and pulled them upwards.
As I rose to my tiptoes and gasped, she laughed and increased her grip. Pulling sharply, I thought she was going to pull them from my body. Her deep laugh filled my ears. Every so often she would give a harsh tug on my nuts. I felt I was about to pass out with the agony but it was about to get worse. The first slap on my balls made me feel shocked for a few seconds before the pain hit but by then she had whacked them again. Slowly at first, she hit them with the crop then sped up to till she was battering them at a rate of 2-3 times a second. I was jerking, squirming and thrashing trying to get away but it was hopeless.
The St Andrews cross is built for immobility and her tight grip on my testicles meant moving was nigh on impossible. Eventually, she stopped and moved back to the wall and I felt a sickly feeling in my stomach from the pain in my balls. I tried to catch my breath but within a few seconds, she was back. I heard something crackling and looked up to see her holding a purple-violet wand.
I squirmed instinctively but of course, it was useless. She came to me and began using it on my legs, my arms, my stomach and of course on my cock and balls. Like a thousand elastic bands being pinged on me at the same time, that horrible little wand electrocuted my body till tears were running down my face and I was begging for mercy.
“Good God” she scoffed “that’s the quickest yet for anyone to break. You’re useless” she scoffed.
Unchaining my, she dragged me over to the bondage bed, threw me on it and chained my face up. I was spread-eagled on it and she attached an O gag to my mouth that kept it wide open. She then attached a clamp to either side of my head meaning my head could not be moved even an inch. I knew Mistress was in charge
I was now totally immobilised. She disappeared from my view and I could hear her moving and what sounded like her getting undressed. When she came back into my view, she was totally naked. Her tits were massive, 38DD at least, and looked absolutely perfect. Her washboard stomach had a delicious six-pack and there was hardly any fat on her body. However, my eyes were focused squarely on her cock. It was at least 12 inches and was rock solid.
I fidgeted as she straddled me and she put her cock over my strapped-open mouth. I looked at her pleadingly and tried to talk but it was impossible with this gag in. She smirked and looked down at me as she began to masturbate. Wanking her cock, she got excited and pre-cum dripped off and ran into my mouth. I was helpless to do anything but lie there and await the inevitable. As she stroked faster and faster I knew she was close to orgasm. Then it happened. Our slave BDSM stories
Her body stiffened and she let out a groan. Her cock jerked in her hand and thick globs of white spunk covered my face. It went over my eyes my nose and of course, lots of it went into my mouth. The salty taste made me gag but I couldn’t swallow it OR spit it out. All I could do was lie there, utterly humiliated with a big load of shemale spunk on my face.
She got off me and walked away. I couldn’t see her but she said
“well im off now. I’m hungry. I’ll be back to see you in an hour or so. Enjoy the taste of my cum. You’ll be sucking the next load out of my cock later on”
She switched out the light and I heard her go upstairs and then nothing. I lay in the dark, unable to move and covered in cum with nipple clamps attached, waiting for her to come back
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