Date: Tue, 3 Apr 2012 16:33:38 -0400
From: Mistress USVI <mistress.usvi@gmail.com>
Subject: Mistress Bought (Bisexual BDSM)

Though I had worked off-and-on as a professional Dominatrix during college,
I now did it strictly for fun.  I had left the coast and the ocean I loved
so much, moving to the cold, gray ski resort town not long after
graduating.  My career paid more than enough to meet my expenses, but I
quickly grew bored with my much calmer life and decided to place an ad
online.

As this was merely a hobby I felt comfortable charging about three times my
previous rate in an effort to raise my level of clientele.  I also felt I
could be more choosy, playing with the people and fetishes that appealed to
me, rather than conforming to someone else's fantasy.

I lived in a nice condo complex, filled mostly with single executives,
which was often used as a vacation retreat for wealthy travelers.  I
contacted the condo's agency and was able to purchase a second smaller
unit.  This was a studio, formerly used as a nanny's apartment, which was
directly beneath my own unit.  Once the paperwork was complete I went to
work designing my ideal `dungeon', including a set of stairs leading
directly to my apartment, hidden behind a locked door.

With the details now complete, I began to sort through my potential
clients.  I work in a highly specialized field, which paid well without
having to work excessive hours.  Aside from going to the gym and a little
volunteer work, my schedule was fairly open.

I cultivated a small group of eager clients.  Most were high-powered
business executives in the area.  Several frequented the area on
`get-aways' from their normally busy lives.  Most were men, but there were
a couple of women in the mix as well.

I required each to book in 2-4 hour blocks of time, and I dictated when
they were expected to return.  I also required a mandatory (paid)
introductory visit, which was simply a question and answer period about
preferences and past experiences.  I required each client to give me their
employment information, along with family contacts, which helped ensure
their compliance.  I stopped advertising after the first month, gaining new
clients simply through word-of-mouth referrals.

As I said, most of my clients were highly-paid, well connected individuals,
as those tended to be the ones who could afford my services.  Then there
were the special cases, such as the cop who I used to service other
clients, the restaurant manager who would comp my meals and the concierge
who gave me access to free rooms when I needed.  These I always kept close,
as they were unable to refuse me anything I desired.

It was the concierge, a blubbering fool I call maggot, who led to the
exciting adventure I wish to share with you today.  My day didn't start out
well.  I was working my day job, when maggot phoned me.  Though my clients
have my number, they are not to call me unless instructed to do so.  Since
he did not have my permission, I ignored the call and continued with my
work.

I was next annoyed by several text messages and email notifications.
Growing frustrated I picked up the phone and dialed his number.  He
answered on the first ring.  "What the fuck do you want, maggot?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you Mistress," he gushed, almost sounding breathless.
"There is a VIP guest here who is interested in your services.  He is
willing to pay triple your normal rate if you would be able to make time
for him today Mistress."

I hesitated long enough to do some quick calculations.  Triple my already
inflated rate would put a fair dent into my construction costs.  I was
intrigued, yet cautious.  "And what does he expect for triple my rates?"

"Only to serve you, Mistress, however you see fit."  He paused, then
continued in a lower voice, "I think, Mistress, you would not be
disappointed if you were to at least meet with him."

Something in his tone caught my attention.  He was trying, respectfully, to
pressure me, which is completely out of character for him.  "Is he there
with you now, maggot?"

"Yes Mistress." I could tell by his voice he was relieved I caught on.

"A VIP guest, huh?  Am I to understand that you mean someone famous, boy?
Someone truly worthy of my time and attention"

"Yes Mistress," he answered without explaining more.

"You know I have standards, boy.  And I have work to do," I stopped to
gather my thoughts.  "Alright, if he is interested I want a well written
e-mail from him detailing his past experiences and expectations for the
meet, as well as age and physical description.  If you need to, send it
through your e-mail, but I want it in 60 minutes, and you know that really
means 45.  Then I will consider if I need to re-arrange my schedule or not.
Do you understand me, maggot?"

"Yes Mistress, thank you."

"And you know you're going to pay for disturbing me, don't you, fucker?"

"Yes Mistress," he mumbled, clearly not happy.  I hung up the phone,
disgusted with him, and needing to return to my work.

I was pleasantly surprised to receive an e-mail notification 25 minutes
later.  I read through the letter, which was shorter than I would have
like, but well written.  The mysterious HE detailed minimal experience
aside from a professional Dominatrix in London and self-experimentation.
He claimed to be an athlete, a diver and martial artist, with good stamina
and a high pain tolerance, who rarely had to capitulate to others (yes,
that's the word he used).  He described himself as mid-thirties, short
brown hair, average height with a trim and fit physique.

He sounded like just my cup of tea.  I don't know many athletes, and so
hadn't the faintest clue who this person might be, but I knew what I was
going to do with him.  I spent the next 15 minutes making phone calls,
changing my schedule and making arrangements for the mystery man.  After
the given 60 minutes had lapsed I call the maggot and told him to bring the
mystery man over to my place, and to plan on staying at least 4 hours.

I returned home and quickly readied myself by taking a quick shower and
choosing an outfit to wear.  Though I was intrigued by this new sub I was
still pissed my day had to be rearranged.  I decided to let my anger show
through my wardrobe.  I chose a red silk corset, laced just right so that
my nipples were covered but my breasts pushed up and out.  Next I chose
some black silk stalkings suspended with a black garter connected to the
corset, topped with black silk panties.

Last to go on were my favorite pair of boots, black leather which laced
tightly to the knee, emphasizing the luscious shape of my calves raised by
four inch heels.  I completed the look with some heavy eye make-up, pulling
my long dark hair into a high pony tail.  I slipped a necklace over my
head, my master set of keys, which I tucked between my boobs and into the
corset.  Looking in the mirror I decided I was ready, in more ways than
one.

Glancing at the clock I noted they should arrive any minute, and made my
way downstairs to prepare for their arrival.  Sure enough, when I reached
the landing I could hear male voices arguing in the hallway.  I locked the
door to the stairwell and crept closer, listening.

I could make out the whine of the concierge, "I can't, man, she'll kill me!
I'm already in hot water!"

Next came a deeper voice, with an accent I couldn't pick up on through the
walls.  "I don't care, those are the rules."

I took a deep breath, yanked open the door and reached out.  Without really
looking at the men facing me I grabbed an ear from each of them and swiftly
pulled them into the room, kicking the door shut behind me.  Both men were
caught off guard and readily followed their ears into the room.  I shouted
at them, louder than they had ever been, "Fucking disrespectful morons!
People live here, they don't want to hear you bellowing in the hallway!"

I still had them by the ears and pulled downward until both men were forced
to buckle their knees and slide to the floor.  I released their ears and
straightened up, turning to grab the first weapon I could locate.  My heels
clicked on the hard wood floor as a slowly strode back to the kneeling men,
a riding crop now firmly in my grasp.

I strode to the new man, lifting his chin forcefully and noticing for the
first time that he was wearing a mask over his eyes.  "What the fuck is
this?!" I turn to look at the maggot, who is trembling, having experienced
my anger in the past.

He sobbed, "I'm sorry Mistress!"

I slapped him hard across the face, sending him toppling over on his side.
"Fucking pathetic excuse for a man.  You disgust me.  Don't speak; my ears
can't take any more of your insufferable whining."

He continued to lay on the floor, sobbing unashamedly.  The mystery man
watched this all with interest, but wisely kept his mouth closed.  I
continued to address the sniveling mass on the floor, "Go to your crate,
maggot.  And put a gag in on your way.  I don't feel like dealing with you
right now."

He nodded and crawled to the corner, into a metal cage the size of a large
dog crate.  This was familiar territory for him.  He had brought a gag
shaped like a horse bit into the crate and quickly buckled it behind his
head.  I followed slowly, enjoying the sound of my heels on the floor,
before closing and latching the crate door.

I perched my ass on the edge of the crate, trying to regain control of
myself.  When my temper flares it can quickly get out of control if I am
not careful.  I glared at the man still kneeling by the door and addressed
him, "I hope you're not as cowardly and annoying as he is."

The masked man shook his head, still not speaking.  I examined him for a
moment and concluded he was just as he said.  Mid-thirties, short brown
hair, trim body.  I could see the muscles in his arms and neck as he knelt.
I gathered by his rapid breathing that he was either nervous or excited,
but I doubted scared.  Time to give him a demonstration.

"Take off your clothes," I ordered, still perched on the crate.  He
unbuttoned his shirt and spread it wide – that was all it took for me.
My mouth began to salivate staring at his lush, ripped chest and abs.  My
mouth wasn't the only part of me producing excess fluid, either.  I
struggled to maintain my composure, glancing down at my nails impatiently
rather than staring at him while he disrobed.

He was folding his clothes as he removed them, like a good boy, but I was
still pissed.  "Jesus Christ, how long does it take to get your clothes
off?!" I shouted in exasperation.  He was about to remove his boxer briefs
but I turned away, not wanting to ogle him openly.  I picked up a specially
made straight-backed wooden chair and placed it in the center of the room.
Next I picked up some restraints before turning back to the man.

"Come here, boy," I ordered, pointing to the chair.  He approached, now
deliciously naked, and I pushed him face forward onto the chair.  He
straddled it, hand gripping the back, and examined the cut out at the base
of the chair back which would allow me access to his jewels.  He had a
decent sized cock, a good 6 or 7 inches, with a pair of fat, low hanging
balls.  What really got to me was his perfect ass; how I longed for my
strap-on just looking at it!

I began by kneeling to cuff his ankles, pulling his feet forward and
securing them together in front of the chair legs.  When I finished I
looked up to see him smirking down at me, clearly enjoying the view.  I
stood up and back-handed him across the face, hard, causing him to bleed
slightly from the corner of his mouth.  He was clearly not expecting it and
let out a groan from behind closed lips.  I was excited to see that his
hard cock didn't deflate in the slightest, even as he tongued the blood on
his lips.

"A pain slut, huh?" I asked, not expecting any response.  "We'll see about
that."

I stepped to the side now and cuffed each of his hands, pulling them down
firmly and connecting them below the seat of the chair, forcing his
shoulders back.  Next I collared him, attaching that to the chair back,
essentially immobilizing him.  I stood back, examining my work, and slowly
circled him before stopping in front of him.

"So, what's with the mask, pain slut?" I asked.  He shrugged his shoulders,
not opening his mouth, which I found to be extremely rude.  I leaned over,
placing the toe of my boot onto the chair, nudging his ball sack.

I smiled coyly, flirting.  "When you visited the other Mistress in London,
I imagine she played your games, right?  Giggling about your mask as she
played with your little winky?"  I tapped his cock with my boot, driving my
point home.  He nodded, smiling slightly.

"And did she go down on you, or have you go down on her?"  Another nod.
"And in the end did you have mind blowing sex?"  He smiled fully now, still
not parting his lips.

I wiped the smile from my face, letting my anger show as I placed my boot
over his balls and began to apply pressure.  "Well, welcome to MY world.
If you think I'm going anywhere near that tiny little dick of yours, or
that you have any hope of earning the privilege of pleasuring me, you are
mistaken."

His smile was gone and his eyes started to bulge outward from the pain I
was causing.  I pushed down harder, leaning my weight forward onto that
leg.  He opened his mouth now, whimpering slightly.  "You WILL speak when I
ask you to.  But before that, you will beg me for mercy."

I pushed all the way forward now, crushing his balls to the point that I
wondered about permanent damage.  He cried out now, moaning and groaning
openly.  I pushed him farther.  "Beg me, slut.  You know the word..."  With
that I began to twist my foot, this way and that, sensing he was close.

"MERCY!" the word burst from his lips in a deep sexy British growl, but I
continued my assault.  "Please, God!  Have mercy Mistress!"  I smiled
wickedly, giving one final twist before removing my foot and his mask in
the same motion.

I was glad I had taken the time earlier to mentally prepare myself,
otherwise I may have gone into school-girl shock when I was finally able to
look into his face.  Jason Fucking Statham!  The man was my every wet dream
come true!  My heart was pounding and my stomach did flip-flops, but my
carefully composed face revealed nothing.

I leaned over to him, speaking quietly, "There now, that wasn't so bad, was
it, slut?  In the future if you `capitulate' a little more quickly you
might still be able to have children."  I strolled away, marveling at this
turn of events.

 Jason Fucking Sex God Statham!  I shot the maggot a wide-eyed look which
he understood, giving me a short nod in return.  The click of my heels
marked my progress back to his cage.  He had been watching the whole thing
and now looked up at me with pitiful eyes.  "Take off your clothes,
maggot," I ordered, looking down at him through the cage bars.

This was not his first time in the cage, and he knew what I expected as he
quickly removed his clothes and tossed them behind himself.  He was on his
knees, now naked, shoulders and head hunched over in the tight space.

I spoke to him, stalling as I tried to calm myself.  "I imagine as a
concierge you are used to getting something in return for a referral like
this.  A percentage perhaps?"  He nodded, unable to answer with the gag.  I
cocked my eyebrow at his boldness and asked, "Is that what you expect to
get from me?"  He shook his head strongly in denial, but was unable to
elaborate.

I turned back to Jason Fucking Statham and asked him.  "Did the two work
out a deal for payment?"

Jason Fucking Statham also shook his head in denial, but did not open his
mouth to speak.  I was growing tired of his games and narrowed my eyes at
him, quickly striding back across the room to again place my boot on the
seat between his legs.  With clenched teeth I asked him, "What was that?  I
couldn't hear you, slut."

He cleared his throat, clearly nervous by the threat of more ball torture.
"No Mistress," he whispered in that oh-so-sexy voice of his.  Probably
going too far in the opposite of my initial reaction I spat in his face,
watching it drip down his cheek and off of his chin.  He did not flinch,
but rather seemed to enjoy the degradation.

"Don't EVER make me repeat myself again, slut," I warned.

"Yes Mistress," he murmured quietly.  The quiet way he said it was not with
shame or humility, but more along the lines of intimacy.  I longed to grab
a fistful of his hair to pull his head back, but his closely shaved hair
prevented that.

Instead I leaned over, bringing my face close to his, stroking my hand down
the other side of his face.  "You look as though you've had your nose
broken before.  Is that true?"

"Yes Mistress, twice," was his whispered response.

"Let me see your teeth, slut," I ordered, almost as quietly.  He was
clearly confused by what I was after, but after a moment opened his mouth
for me to see a perfect row of pearly whites.  I stuck my lower lip out in
a pout, "Too pretty.  Next time, bring your mouth guard, Mr. Athlete, and
I'll get some boxing practice in."

I raised my eyebrow, challenging him, but he gave a small chuckle before
responding, "Yes Mistress."  I released his collar from the back of the
chair, and he arched his back appreciatively.  I took that time to slide my
hand down his chest, feeling along his hard body, owning him.  I curled my
hand, scratching him with my claws on my way up, stopping to give one
nipple a hard tweak.  He moaned without resisting and I felt my jucies once
again flooding my damp pussy.  I wanted to lick and bite him all over, but
resisted the urge.

With a sigh I turned back to the maggot, releasing him from the cage and
ordering him to kneel next to Jason Fucking Sex God Statham.  I addressed
him from over my shoulder, "Take the gag out, maggot, and tell me what
exactly you think you deserve for this referral."  I had walked over to my
wall of toys and was looking at them fondly, trying to make my selection.

I still had the crop in my hand, but I also picked up two sets of nipple
clamps and some leather cording.  I watched the men's eyes as I returned
from my gathering.  I gave them all to the maggot to hold, which he did so
willingly.

Up to this point the maggot had not answered my question, but squirmed in
place on the floor.  I grabbed his chin and raised his eyes to meet mine.
I growled in frustration.  "The two of you disrupt my day, come in here
disturbing my neighbors, and have managed to be nothing but disrespectful
and insubordinate while wasting my time."  I paused to let my anger sink in
before slowly continuing.  "If I have to repeat myself ONE – MORE -
TIME, I am REALLY going to lose my temper."

He nodded, swallowing hard before speaking.  "I'm sorry Mistress.  Thank
you for seeing us today, we really appreciate it."

I growled again, pushing him away.  "Are you just too chicken shit to tell
me what you want, is that the problem, maggot?"

He ducked his head, "Yes Mistress."

"Well get over it, fucker.  You have 10 seconds to tell me what you want,
or I'm going to get the Houdini out again."  He trembled at the mention of
the chastity device, clearly remembering the last time he wore it for
nearly one month.

"I want to 69!" he blurted out quickly.  This surprised me.  I figured he
would want some free sessions, but evidently he just needed to get his
rocks off.  Too bad he had pissed me off so badly.  I smiled at him,
"Explain to the pain slut here why that is your choice of payment."

He turned to face Jason Fucking Statham, thinking quickly.  "Because when I
serve my Mistress I have to earn the privilege to service her, which I
don't often do.  It is even more rare that she will allow me release, or
assist me."  He swallowed again, speaking more quietly, "And she has the
most amazing mouth you could ever imagine."

I smiled at the last, clearing my throat to gain his attention.  "The
answer is no."  His face fell with my pronouncement, but I continued
without acknowledging it.  "You may have one choice for payment.  My mouth
on your cock OR your mouth on my pussy.  Pick one."

There was definitely a right answer and a wrong answer, and I was pleased
when he chose correctly.  "Please Mistress, can I lick your pussy?"  I
smiled, letting him know he chose correctly.

"Yes, you may, but not yet maggot.  Stand up."  He did so, and I took one
of the leather cords from him and stepped closer.  He knew what was coming,
his cock rising to attention with expectation.  I gave him a few slow
strokes, just for my own satisfaction, before I began binding his balls.  I
pulled them low, away from his body, and wrapped the cording firmly.  I
looped around his balls individually, separating them in their sack, then
looped the cord up around his cock a few times before tying it tightly.

Next I took one set of the nipple clamps and asked Jason Fucking Sex God
Statham if he had ever seen or used this kind before.  He told me he
hadn't, so I explained as I put them on the maggot, pinching and pulling
each nipple before securing it.  "These are Japanese," I explained, "They
have quite a firm grip to begin with, but the chain makes it even more
evil, tightening them further each time I give them a tug."

I demonstrated on the maggot, giving a slight tug to the chain connecting
each clamp, forcing him to wince.  I told him to kneel before turning to
Jason Fucking Statham with another set for him.  He leaned away from the
chair allowing me access to his chest, and I commented without even
thinking, "What a good slut."  He smiled up at me, delighting in my praise.

With that I pinched firmly, positioned one clamp, and let it bite.  He
closed his eyes, moaning, clearly enjoying the treatment.  Without giving
him time to adjust I quickly repeated the process with his other nipple.
He gasped this time opening his eyes with surprise.  I smiled, then gave a
pretty firm tug down on the chain to elicit another gasp from him.

I picked up the other leather cord, but looking at his already black and
blue balls decided to show some mercy.  After all, as a business woman, I
did want him to return someday.  Instead I retrieved a cock harness, the 7
Gates of Hell.  The problem was his cock was already too hard.  I thought I
could fix that, though he did seem to be into some pretty severe pain
games.  I hoped I would have some luck with using psychology.

I held up the 7 Gates in front of his face, again placing my boot on the
seat between his legs.  I explained, "I'm sorry to do this to you when you
haven't earned it, but I'm going to have to hurt you again."  I moved my
foot over his balls, applying slight pressure, and continued, "You cock is
too hard to fit into this at the moment, so I have no alternative."  I
applied just an ounce more pressure and saw an immediate response in his
cock.  As I had hoped, he was deflating rapidly.  I removed my boot and
slipped the 7 Gates on him quickly, before he would have a chance to
recover.

I stood up and gave him a wink, pleased with how well I could predict his
body and his reaction.  He smiled slightly, still a bit in shock I think,
slow to realize the pain wouldn't be coming.

Now I picked up my crop, running it over each of their backs slowly,
teasing myself as much as them.  Jason Fucking Statham still had his hands
bound below the seat, his arms next to his hips, forcing good posture and
excellent muscle definition.  I took the chain that hung between his
nipples and forced it into his mouth, including all of the slack.  I did
the same to the maggot, who opened his mouth widely in invitation.  I moved
back behind them, giving each several hard swats, but not over-exerting
myself.  We had a long way yet to go.

I administered the smacks from the crop without comment, mentally pitting
one man against the other.  Of course I knew from the start who would do
better, and who would disgust me with his blubbering.  Growing sick of the
maggot's crying I gave him several extra-hard smacks before shoving him
back onto his knees.  I ran my hand down Jason Fucking Statham's back,
feeling the muscle and the heat.  Aside from some minor redness he showed
no marks yet from the crop.

I walked back toward my wall of toys and turned to look at him.  I spoke,
looking between him and the wall.  "I think I need to try something a
little stronger for you, slut.  What would you like to try next?"  I
watched his eyes looking over the wall, and offered a few suggestions.
"Not a paddle, I'm sure.  What about this?"  I lifted a plastic flogger off
of the wall.  Generally, I don't think floggers offer the kind of pain he
seemed to want, but this one with the plastic flails knotted at the ends,
leaves quite a sting.

He stared at it, not answering immediately.  "I'm not sure, Mistress.  I
have never seen something like that before."

I was glad he answered honestly, rather than simply agreeing as so many
submissives do.  I walked toward him, again explaining.  "This is a
flogger.  Most are made out of leather; as you can see this is made from
plastic.  Well, actually I believe it's a vinyl, which gives it a nice
sting."

As I spoke I adjusted his feet, moving them closer to his hands, securing
them between the front and rear legs.  Next I unlatched the back of the
chair, removing it completely and leaving just the seat.  He seemed to
watch all of this with interested, but held his tongue.  I made sure he
still held the chain from the nipple clamps in his mouth before stepping
back.

His back was already warmed up from the crop, so I chose to start with his
mouth-watering front.  I rocked back on my heels, building momentum, before
whipping my arm forward and striking him perfectly with the flogger.  He
stiffened upon impact, but I did not giving him time to adjust.  I quickly
brought my hand back and struck him again, repeating this several times.

After ten blows we were both panting, and I stopped to examine my
handiwork.  His chest and abs were peppered with purple and red dots where
the tip of the flail struck.  I rubbed my hand over these, feeling the warm
bumps beneath my skin.  I took the now-wet chain from his mouth and gave
one tug, then another, feeling his grunts resonating through his chest.

I moved to his back now and stepped away to strike.  This time my blows
landed not with the tips of the flails, but towards the middle of each
strip, causing a different, heavier feel.  I again gave him ten blows
before stopping to observe the results.  His back was now almost completely
red and quiet warm to the touch.  I scratched my nails down in long
stripes, watching the contrasting colors appear on his skin.

I straddled the chair behind him, standing, feeling the heat of his back
against my inner thighs.  I leaned over his shoulders and brought the
flogger to his mouth.  I was glad I didn't have to instruct him as he began
kissing and licking the sections I pressed to his mouth.  I watched
hungrily, breathing warmly in his ear, my other hand feeling his short
hair.  I was quite turned on, and was delighted to see his cock straining
against the 7 Gates.

I stepped back, but kept my mouth close to his ear as I whispered, "Raise
your ass for me, boy."  His hands were still bound beneath the seat o f the
chair, but if he leaned forward he should be able to lift himself a good
few inches.  I encouraged him with a few nips and nibbles to his ear and
neck before taking another step back.  I swung and hit my mark, watching
the knots biting into his flesh, denting the muscle before springing back
with a welt.

This time I did not stop at ten, but continued without a number in mind.  I
wondered which of the two of us would tire first and call an end to the
game.  At 15 blows we were both again breathing hard.  After 20 he was
wiggling, trying to dodge out of the way.  By 25 blows he was moaning out
loud, sending shivers down my spine.  At 30 I could hear him drawing in
shaky breaths over his clenched teeth.

That's when I stopped, using both of my hands on his shoulders to push him
back to a seated position, making him moan again.  I straddled his lap now,
pulling his head close to mine, kissing him deeply.  I could feel his hard
cock pushing against the material of my panties as our tongues dueled
fiercely.  He was forceful, trying to gain control of the situation despite
his bindings.  I imagined he would be fun to wrestle in bed, but that would
have to wait for another day.

I continue kissing him MY way, pulling back when I wanted, pushing deeper
when I wanted.  We were both panting and moaning.  I reach a hand between
our chests, giving another tug to his nipple clamps.  Hearing him moan only
gets me hotter, and I want more.  I reach around to feel his lovely ass,
toying with the warm globes in my hand, pinching and pulling ruthlessly
until he breaks the kiss to cry out.

I smile before releasing him and stepping away.  I lean over and put my
hands on the nipple clamps, warning him, "Taking them off hurts even more,
slut.  I suggest you take a deep breath."  He did as I suggested, his chest
swelling outward with his intake of air.  "Now breath out through your
mouth, slowly," I instruct as I remove one clamp, watching his face look
confused for a moment before the pain set in and contorted his features.  I
rub his nipple with the heel of my hand for just a moment, to ease the
worst of it, before repeating the procedure with the other nipple.

 I gesture for the maggot to stand, removing his nipple clamps but leaving
the leather cord around his cock and balls.  I remove my necklace, handing
the set of keys to the maggot, instructing him to release

"Mr. Athlete's" bindings and allow him to stand.  I go to the small
refrigerator by the entrance a take out a bottle of water.  I drink half of
it before passing it to each of the men to take a drink while I move to a
leather armchair in one corner.

Not really that tired, but wanting to watch, I instruct the maggot to put
the pad-locked bit gag on "Mr. Athlete".  I had decided it would be best to
continue playing dumb about his true identity, figuring it would deflate
his ego a bit.  Once the gag is in place both men look in my direction,
awaiting my next instructions.  I ponder for a short minute, enjoying the
view before sitting up and crossing my legs.

"Spreader bar next," I say, "The heavy one, maggot, with locks."  My eyes
remain focused on Jason Fucking Sex God Statham's while the maggot
retrieves the heavy cast-iron pipe from the wall.  As he kneels I shift my
gaze, watching the maggot lock the bar to one ankle cuff.  He pushes the
Sex God into place over the bolts in the floor before spreading his legs
and securing it to the second cuff.  With the weight of the bar I doubt the
locks will be necessary, but I think it adds to the mental stimulation of
the game.

The maggot has remained kneeling, and again looks to me for instruction.
He really would be a good boy to keep around, I muse to myself, if only he
could control that mouth.  Shaking my head to myself I clear my throat.
"Lock each wrist to a separate ring on the back of his collar, hands behind
his head, crossing his wrists," I order quietly.

When he is done I look at the mouth-watering spectacle standing before me.
Jason Fucking Statham, standing proudly, chest open and exposed, nipples
still purple, biceps bulging, cock bulging in its' restraint, teeth
gripping the bit firmly.  I struggle to maintain my composure, but can't
help but lick my lips at the view I have been presented with.

"Come here maggot," I order.  He kneels at my feet, but I don't shift my
gaze to him.  I maintain eye contact with the Sex God, yet sit back in the
chair, inviting the maggot in between my legs.  I grip his hair, pulling
him closer to my thighs.  His warm breath on my stalkings makes me shiver.

The maggot brings his hands up to my thighs, feeling along the top of the
stalking, brushing along my soft skin.  I watch Jason Fucking Statham raise
his chin, silently begging me.  I pull the maggot in further, until his
face is pushed against my panty-covered pussy.  The Sex God flexes one arm,
his bicep tensing and releasing several times.  Knowing he would like to be
in the maggot's place between my thighs excites me even more.

I allow the maggot to nuzzle against my pussy for a moment, certain he
would be able to feel my wetness through the thin material, before pulling
him back.  I lean over and whisper in his ear, still maintaining eye
contact with Jason Fucking Statham.  I end the conversation with a brief
kiss as I send him away.

The maggot crawls over to `Mr. Athlete' and unlocks one end of the spreader
bar from the floor.  Instead of a full-frontal view, he pushed the bound
man into a quarter turn before relocking the bar.  The maggot kneels,
looking up at the Sex God, before reaching up to give his ball sack a
couple of slow tugs.  Jason Fucking Statham does not care for this, and
makes a few unintelligible protests.

I watch, enjoying the profile view, allowing them to continue for a moment
before clearing my throat.  The maggot takes his cue and raises up on his
knees, leaning over to lick the cock before him.  I watch closely as he
takes a deep breath before plunging down on the hard piece of meat, taking
just the head into his mouth.  He rotates his head, making slurping noises,
while I turn my eyes from the sight.

I'm not sure if it is my shifting or something else that catches Jason
Fucking Statham's attention, but I wait until he is looking directly at me
before snapping the first photograph.  Now his protests ratchet up quickly
in volume as I snap a few more `candid' shots, easily capturing the man
giving him a blow job in the same frame.  I smile wickedly before setting
the camera aside and calling the maggot back to me.

He crawls back, happily licking his lips, and dives right in to my wet
pussy, roughly pulling my panties aside.  I lift my hips, sliding my
panties down and off, causing the maggot to pause in his work for only a
moment before returning to his ministrations.  I watch him at work,
reaching into my silk corset to pinch and tease my nipples.  I look up and
am amazed to see that Jason Fucking Sex God Statham is still sporting quite
a stiffie.

I push the maggot away and stand, leaving my panties in a pile on the
floor.  The sound of my heels marks my passage across the floor again,
where I choose a new toy from the wall, barely glancing at my selection.
The Sex God can't take his eyes from me as I walk past him.  He cranes his
neck, trying to see me as I stand behind him.  I step close, running my
hands up the taught muscles of his back, feeling his tense shoulders,
testing the bonds at his wrists.

I cannot resist myself as I lean forward and bite into his hard muscle,
feeling the flesh barely give between my teeth.  He moans out and I nearly
come undone.  I wrap my arms around his torso, scraping one hand down his
chest and wrapping the other around his throat.  I bite harder, tasting
blood, feeling him moan against my hand, tightening my grip.

I release my bite but not my grip, and lick at the small trickle of blood
before me.  I enjoy feeling his breathing hard against my tight grip.  I
feel his blood on my lips, but do not lick it off; I step around in front
of him and make sure he seems me before doing so.  He groans again as I
press my body close to his.  He struggles to look down into my eyes without
dripping the saliva from his open mouth down onto us both.

I smile and grind my hips into his, teasing.  "You know, you're just my
kind of guy.  You probably could have made me very happy, if we had met
under different circumstances."  I cast my eyes down, both playing coy and
not wanting him to see my true emotions.  "But as it is I have a job to do,
which does not include making you happy, I'm afraid."  I turned and began
to walk back to my seat, "I'll just have to take care of myself this time."
I hold up the dildo in my hand, and love the sounds of his struggle against
his bonds at my back.

Of course he would never cry out, and I love him for his strength.  I sit,
urgently pulling the maggot back in to his duties.  I order him to clasp
his hands behind his back, which he does.  I toss one leg over the arm of
the chair, spreading my pussy to his tongue.  He continues licking and
sucking as I slowly fuck myself with the dildo.  I am really hot, and don't
really need it, but certainly enjoy the way it feels sliding in and out of
my slit.

I am aware that my eyes are closed and open them now, taking a good look at
my captive Sex God.  He is watching intently as I flutter my eyelids closed
again, imagining it was him between my thighs.  I want to feel his hard
cock deep inside me, and glance at him again, furthering my fantasy.

I am breathing hard and moaning now, my orgasm quickly building.  I
continue thrusting the dildo while my other hand pinches my nipple.  I open
my eyes again, needing something more.  I watch him thrashing in his
restraints, sending me over the precipice.  I moan loudly, body stiffening,
muscles contracting, never taking my eyes from him.  My orgasm gives him
pause, though, and he stops thrashing.

When I regain myself I push the maggot away, gently though, quite pleased
with his efforts.  He kneels patiently, waiting for my instructions.  I
step away from him and release Jason Fucking Statham's legs, helping him to
kneel next to the boy, both in front of my seat.  I remove his gag and toss
it aside before returning to my seat, still a bit weak-kneed from my
powerful orgasm.

I lean over and kiss the maggot deeply, tasting myself on his lips.  I
smile at him as I pull away.  "You have done very well today, maggot."

"Thank you, Mistress," he replied, bowing his head.

I turn to face Jason with a smile, "And you?  Well, you're just very nice
to look at, aren't you?" I ask condescendingly before leaning in for a kiss
from him.  His arms are still bound behind his head, making it easy to
dominate our exchange.  "Those pictures will be a good reminder," I tease.

"Please, Mistress," he interjects quickly.  "Please, my career!  I need-"

I interrupt him with an easy smile.  "Relax, pretty boy, this won't be our
last encounter."

He swallows nervously, not easily convinced.  I whisper into his ear, "You
think you're the first movie star to come begging at my feet?"

He jerks his head away, looking shocked.  "You know who I am?"

"I know EXACTLY who you are.  You're the man who's going to spend all day
tomorrow begging for a chance to please me."



If you liked this story, please let me know!  Mistress.USVI@gmail.com