1. Mistress Cruel Love - Chapter 5 - We Must Not Allow A Femdom Gap


    Date: 6/8/2024, Categories: Fiction Authoritarian, BDSM Coercion Discipline, Domination/submission Female Domination, Foot or shoe fetish, Humiliation Interracial, Latex fetish, Romance Slavery, Spanking, Toys, Transvestite, Author: [James Bondage], Source: sexstories.com 

    ... flattened palm up to his brow and made a show of looking across the way, inspecting the horizon. “No, thank you, I'm just looking for my Mistress!”

“Oh, come now! I know a pain slut when I see one” the haughty woman persisted. She stepped forward and closed in on Markus, smiling wickedly. “A lot of women in this club like to bust balls, but I promise you, I'm the best. I know how to do it slow and sweet. I can soothe you in between each delicious wave of pain. Doesn't that sound nice? Let me be your Mistress for the next little while...” Her eyebrows raised and she curled her index finger in the come hither motion.

“Uhhh, my Mistress isn't here! Thanks, but I gotta go or I'll be in trouble!”

Markus turned and hurried off, heading back down the staircase he'd just climbed.

Cindy snickered. She returned to her customary waiting position, leaning against the doorway. “You'll be back!” she called out before she resumed filing her nails. It was important to keep them short and smooth in her profession.

* * * * *

As he reached the ground floor, Markus breathed a sigh of relief. Going upstairs to take pictures among the severe club Dommes of Ishtar would be the hardest part of the evening, he hoped. That was behind him now. All he had to do was get some more snaps of himself at the various attractions around the dance hall and he would be set. Then he could find somewhere to chill. Maybe if he went to the bar and ordered a drink, he could take it easy for the last ...
    ... hour or so.

*SMACK SMACK*

“MUSH! MOVE, YOU WORMS!!!”

Markus turned and beheld what had to be the most bizarre sight he'd witnessed in his entire life. A woman dressed in Amazonian warrior garb was following behind a team of men, saddled in full leather horse tack. Each male slave was decked out in a full gimp suit, overlaid with a leather harness around their torso, legs and head and a gag fixed in their mouths. All of them were collared and leashed. The buckles and chains of their getup clinked and jangled as they pranced forward.

The tall brunette towered over them, grasping the reigns that led to an O-ring where all their separate leashes connected together. Her other hand lashed out with a braided cat-o'-nine-tails as she barked orders at her bound sluts. When he realized they were approaching swiftly, Markus got out of the way and gazed in fascination as the fiery woman whipped and cursed her leather team right through the concourse where he'd been standing.

As they headed into the distance, Markus watched them turn into a hallway with a bright, flashing neon sign above it. It read 'PONY GAMES' and had an arrow pointing toward the entrance. He'd noticed the sign before and wondered what the hell it meant. Now he had some idea. Markus shook his head, at once frightened and confident he didn't want to learn more.

“OH. MY. GOD! Mr. Purple?!?”

The somewhat familiar voice sent chills down his spine. Markus looked to his side and, sure enough, there they ...
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