Domination Games

The Spring Games - Event 2

"The next event, honored members, is the 100 meter dash.  The
course runs from the marker over there," he indicated a slave
holding up a "Start" sign.  The Start was about 25 yards from
the front of the stands.  "to there.", directing their
attention to another slave, about 25 yards on the other side
of the stands.  His sign said "Turn-about".  "The starting
line is also the finishing line."  The course kept the slaves
in full view the entire race.  The racers ran directly past
the crowd on each leg.  "The last two finishers are
eliminated.  As an additional challenge, our runners will
carry the stool that they have won for their owners in the
previous event.  Since we do not want these gifts soiled or
damaged, we will be forced to disqualify any contestant who
drops hers.  And how shall it be carried?  Why, in the very
manner the gifts are now held, of course.  Touching the stool
or any part of it with anything other than their, ahhhh,
netherparts will also be grounds for disqualification."  He
grinned at this witticism, then turned to the Mistress in
Charge.  "Mistress, please herd the slaves to the starting
line."

The Mistress acknowledged the order and got the group moving
with snapping touches of her crop to their hips and exposed
backsides.  Normally, any strokes given a contestant were only
for show since each owner wanted to win and did not want
unfair disadvantages imposed on his slave.  However, Mistress
Stephanie was a colleague and friend of Rayna, and Gemma felt
that she might have gotten just a little more of Mistress'
crop than the others on the jog to the starting line.  None of
the women wanted to move too fast and take the chance of
losing their hold on their owners' "gift", so all had gotten
at least one stroke along the way.  

Although the plug's size made movement very uncomfortable,
Gemma was now glad she had gotten it.  She had seen this
particular race run before.  The easiest dildoes to get inside
an asshole were the ones that came out just as easily.  Her
competition all seemed to be in comparatively good condition. 
Slaves aren't allowed to get sloppy.  However, only a couple
of them looked like they would be any competition for her in a
race.  Running was her preferred exercise.  She often ran
twenty five to thirty five miles a week.  She even used
running in some of her scenes with her slaves.  She loved
chasing naked slaves through the park, late at night when the
chance of being caught was minimal.  She had no worries in
this event, even though that damned plug felt like it was
inflating.  It seemed to be stretching and irritating her
tender anal passage more with passing second.

The women went into the starting blocks.  The Cabal's
specially designed blocks locked onto the runner's ankles with
spring-loaded, steel shackles.   The 'starter's gun' triggered
them back open to start the race.  The other special feature
of the starting blocks replaced sound of the starting pistol. 
Once the women raised their bottoms up into the starting
position, matched rattan canes were aimed, cocked and latched. 
When the starter pulled the trigger, the same firing mechanism
as the ankle irons simultaneously released the canes striking
each woman just below the saddle stools held clenched in the
nine asses, in that sensitive crease between buttock and
thigh.

"Take your Mark, Get Set, ....  GO!".  The final word was
punctuated by a loud >crack!< as nine canes simultaneously
made solid contact with nine tightly stretched bottoms.  A
starting pistol firing blanks could not have been any louder. 
One or two indignant squeals were heard, but most of the women
did not waste the breath.  Gemma's size was translated into a
slower start off the blocks than some of the other women,
particularly blondie and a very petite Asian woman, both of
whom ran like experienced sprinters.  Gemma's long legs and
strength made up for the slow start and she was back with the
leaders before they had passed the stands.  The plug,
completely unlubricated now, was hurting with each stride, but
she pressed on and was solidly in second place at the turn.

The slowdown and quick shift of direction at the turn was
blondie's undoing.  She planted her foot for the turn,
momentarily relaxing certain muscle groups.  The smooth, small
dildo popped free, before she could clamp back down to retain
it.  Gemma had to hurdle over the fallen stool, but her own
plug remained tightly seated.  Gemma coasted in from there,
taking third place and advancing to the next round.  The only
event where victory would count would be the last one today
and the 'big game' tomorrow.  What counted now was not losing
and maintaining her endurance for the next event.

The two losers included one of the slaves that Gemma knew from
past meetings of the Cabal and another of the new members. 
The Mistress in Charge told them they could remove their
saddles.   Three male slaves led the losers and blondie off to
the holding room to be prepared for the upcoming evening's
entertainment.  The saddle hurt Gemma more, when she extracted
it.  Her asshole was very tender.  It would be a vulnerability
for her, at least for the rest of the day.  She'd have to be
careful during the other games to ensure none of the women
exploited that weakness.  She looked up to see the slut who
had not lubricated her watching her and smirking at her
discomfort.  She'd have to watch that one, Gemma thought.  She
may have purposely not lubricated Gemma's ass to gain the
advantage.

Memories 2

The women were each given a squeeze bottle of tasteless green
fluid and were told to rest in the grassy area near the finish 
line while the next event was set up.  Gemma's remaining
opponents were quick to take the offer.  Gemma remained
standing, stretching her muscles to relax them from the strain
of the sprint and the butt plug.  Her fellow players seemed no
worse for wear, although a couple were still breathing
relatively hard and were slick with sweat.  

Gemma considered entering Alex in the Fall Games, the
counterpart to these games for the males.  His knee was far
stronger now than it had been, and would be as close to fully
recovered as it would ever be by then.  Besides, it wasn't as
if it was the purely athletic aspects that would challenge
Alex.  

She could still remember the first times with Alex.  Each of
those personal, intense milestones: the first therapy session,
the first spanking, the first date, the first session in her
dungeon.  Each was as clear in her memory as if those two
years had been only two days.  They'd been good years.

He had arrived early at the center and had been directed to
her office by the staff therapist on duty.  She had reviewed
his record, discussed the original therapy plan and his
extraordinary progress to date.  Alex had sat quietly
throughout the meeting, answering direct questions in a
respectful manner, meeting her gaze directly and openly, but
without offering anything of his own to the agenda.  When she
asked if he had any questions, he replied, "When do we start?" 
She remembered asking why he did not ask the standard question
which was when would he be fully recovered.  His quiet,
confident response "Because I already know.  I will finish
healing when I have hurt enough and worked hard enough to
finish healing."

That therapy session had been grueling.  He should not have
been able to tolerate what he was doing to himself.  He'd
grimaced in concentration to control the pain, he did every
exercise she asked without complaint, until she ordered a stop
for the day.  She'd asked if he enjoyed the pain and he had
responded negatively.  He lived with pain from the injury
regardless of what he did.  That being the case, he wanted to
benefit from the pain rather than simply suffer with it.  She
promised him that he would always benefit from whatever hurt
him in her charge.

They progressed steadily over the next months.  Friendship
grew between them outside the confines of the therapy room,
but when they entered those doors, the relationship changed. 
Gemma became more demanding, more stern, more bitchy.  She
would pummel him verbally, sometimes screaming in his face to
get one more exercise repetition from him.  If he minded, Alex
never said so and it had never affected him outside of her
"lair" as he came to call the room.  About four months after
she'd taken the case, a session went sour.  She had bullied
and driven him, but exercises he had been doing easily were
beyond him that day.  "You can't do it, Marino, I know you
can't.  I will even bet you that you can't do it."

He'd snarled back at her "Name your stakes."

She saw her opening.  "Your pretty pink ass, little man.  You
lose and I give you the paddling of your life right on your
bare butt."  She watched him and waited to be told to go to
hell, at the very least.  She had acted in the emotion of the
moment and the careful effort of four months could have been
lost.

He'd given her that long, considering look.  "And if I win?"

She tossed her head disdainfully and looked down at him from
her height advantage.  "I named my prize, you name yours."
she'd snapped back, instantly regretting those words, too. 
Alex was a very powerful man for all his youth and lack of
stature.  She did not know if she wanted to trust his control
and his inexperience if he decided he wanted to whack her
bottom if he won.

"I want to go out with you on a date."  Her dismayed response
amused him.  "You really didn't know, did you?  I am quite
taken with the woman outside this den of horrors.  I'd like to
find out if there is something more there for us.  I want to
go out with you if I win.  That's my prize."  She had no
choice but to agree.  She wanted her chance at his tight
bottom.

In the end, she had won that bet.  He had not been able to
complete the exercises and she had told him to present himself
at her home in the country that night for his spanking.

As always, Alex was on time.  Gemma had decided not to play
the bitch goddess for that session.  She had dressed casually,
in jeans and a sweatshirt, for his arrival.  She did not want
to lose him on the first go-round if he overreacted to full
latex or leather regalia.  She was not yet that sure of him
that she'd endanger her standing at the college.  He might
report her to the administration if he thought she'd gone too
far.  She was far enough out on a limb as it was.  

She decided she'd tackle that concern before they went any
further.  She thought she knew her man, thought she could
trust him to keep his mouth shut, regardless of what happened
tonight, but she had worked too hard at the college to lose it
all.  She offered Alex a drink and sat him down in her den. 
"You really don't have to go through with this, Alex.  If it
is going to come back on me later, it's not worth it no matter
how much I may want to do this."

"Want to do this?"  His tone was amused and questioning. 
"What an interesting choice of words.  Am I to infer that this
is not something you regularly do to encourage your patients
to greater efforts?"  His tone was sardonic and it irritated
her.

In her best grand dame, Oxford tones she returned "You may
infer whatever you please.", then in a more normal tone, "It
is something I want to do and that I specifically want to do
to you.  Yes, I enjoy corporally correcting men with my hand,
a strap, a paddle, even a whip.  I am sexually dominant with
all my partners and if you expect to be with me, to get to
know me, you will have to get to know and learn to deal with
that aspect of my personality."  

Her eyes turned black and her voice became husky.  "The
thought of your tight little butt turning pink then red under
my hand and paddle, the idea of your eyes overflowing with
tears excites me, thrills me.  I want that and if we are going
to go any further outside of my lair, I will have it."  She
stood up and walked to the fire place that was in front of his
seat.  "The choice is yours, really.  You can finish that
drink and leave now and we will have no further contact
outside of the therapy room."  She played what she thought
might be her trump card.  "Even that contact will end soon. 
You are far enough along that a less demanding therapist will
be all you need to keep you from overdoing.  If you want me,
you have to take all of me, and this"  She picked up a long,
brightly shining black leather paddle with a polished wooden
hand grip from the hearth and held it up for his inspection,
"This is a very big part of me.  Are you man enough to take
what I want to give you?"

Surprisingly, Alex merely smiled.  "There is no need to prod
my ego, Dr Thomas.  I would not have come if I wasn't ready to
pay my debt in the currency you demand.  I think that you know
me well enough to know that I will not betray you regardless
of how this turns out tonight."  Setting his drink aside, he
stood up. "I am ready when you are."

She set her own drink down.  "Then strip from the waist down,
to the skin, Alex.  Fold your clothes neatly and put them on
that chair in the corner.  Since you can't kneel with that
knee, I want you to go stand in the corner over there like the
bad little boy you are.  When I come back, I expect that you
will be standing there with your shirt tail up and your pretty
ass presented for my inspection.  If you aren't in that corner
in the condition I have just specified when I return, don't be
in the house at all."  With that she whirled and stalked from
the room, without looking back.

Her heart was pounding wildly.  She hoped against hope that he
would still be there when she returned.  She was dismayed to
realize just how much she wanted him to stay, how much she
wanted him to learn to challenge her and the pain she would
give to him.  For the first time in her life, she did not
honestly know if she could exile him from her life and that
bothered her, too.  She changed into a tight, short skirted
lycra dress and four inch tall high heels.  Sexy, eye
catching, maybe even a little risque, but not so fetishistic
that he would be turned off or frightened, but still giving
her the freedom of movement she hoped that she would need. 
Taking a deep breath, she walked regally into the room.

He was there, standing in the corner, his bare butt colored by
the dancing light and shadow of the nearby fire.  She nearly
crowed with exultation at seeing him there, waiting for HER! 
The scars on his right leg seemed to glow blood red in the
firelight.  She picked up her paddle and walked to the chair
in front of the fire, and seated herself.  She called him to
her.  It was the first time she had seen his penis.  He was
partially erect, a very respectable specimen, she thought.  He
was not unaffected by the sexuality of humbly presenting
himself to her.  To protect his injured knee, she bent him
forward over the back of a large, overstuffed easy chair, his
face in the seat.  The position brought him up on tiptoe, his
skin pulled tight across the hard muscles of his buttocks. 
She seated herself on the arm of the chair, the paddle
languidly swinging back and forth between the arm of the chair
and his face.  

She reached behind him to stroke his scrotum teasingly, and
began to speak very softly, very gently.  "This is a first
spanking for you under the loving guidance of a strong woman,
Alex.  There are some rules.  First, when I correct or
dominate you, you will refer to me as Mistress, because that
is what I am, the Mistress of your fate.  Second, you will
always present yourself fully to the blow, straining for it,
welcoming it.  If you don't, I will order you to do so. 
Failure then will incur added penalty strokes.  Finally, I
will expect you to ask for each blow and count it for me.  Do
you understand and will you comply?"

"Yes."

"Yes - WHAT!?"  The hand that had been stroking his scrotum
latched onto his testicles, squeezing, still gently, but
enough to assure him that she could and would squeeze harder.

"Yes, Mistress, I understand and will comply."

"Very well, since this is the first spanking, we will limit
you to only a dozen stokes across the buttocks with one to be
good and one to grow on."  She smiled grimly at her joke.  "If
you were more advanced, I might also paddle your thighs, but
neither you nor your knee are ready for that.  Also, since
this will not be a very demanding test, I will not give you a
safety word.  You either accept the full count without moving
or trying to resist me or you may leave as we discussed
before.  Ask for the first, Alex."  He did and she struck.

The paddle landed with a loud splat sound.  The second's sound
was sharper.  He had tensed his buttocks in preparation for
that blow.  She varied the strikes, right - left, top -
bottom, swinging the paddle with her considerable strength,
covering his ass cheeks with the red splotches that grew
together to form one, large mass of red color from cheek to
cheek, top to bottom.  The last two bonus strokes were the
hardest and nearly broke him.  She heard him sobbing, muffled
by the cushions of the chair.  She had to order him to present
for the last one, the one to grow on.  He met her challenge
and took the blow.

She had been amazed.  Normally a new submissive broke into
tears by the fifth or sixth strike on her initiation spanking. 
None had lasted beyond the ninth before Alex.  She ordered him
to stay in position and left the room.  She brought back a jar
containing a soothing cold cream that she rubbed into his
flaming bottom, all the while praising him for his fortitude
and courage.

When she let him up, he asked if he could leave.  She gave him
back his clothes and left the room to give him the privacy he
would need to get the pants back over the painful parts of his
anatomy.  When she returned, he was gone, without saying
another word.  She was not surprised, but she was strangely
disappointed.  It was only after he'd left that she realized
she had not made him orgasm.  She had been so carried away in
the shear high of controlling him that she had failed to give
him any reason to return.  She always brought a first timer to
orgasm after a spanking so that the last memory of the session
was one of intense sexual pleasure and not one of the intense
pain and humiliation of the paddling at her hands.  In her
rage at herself, she threw her favorite paddle across the room
where it bounced twice and landed in the fire.  She stood
there, watching the treated leather flare, and burn to ashes
that seemed to match the taste of self disgust in her mouth.

The next day, he missed therapy for the first time and for
three days after that.  He still needed daily therapy and
would continue to need it for some time to come if he was to
fully recover.  She decided she had gone too far.  She had
mixed her business with her pleasure and the result was
endangering the recovery of a patient who came to her for
help.  She would have to swallow her own desires and call him,
offer him the option of another therapist to finish his
treatment.  Her professional ethics demanded that she not be a
barrier to him receiving the help he still needed.  It was the
first time she had read someone so wrong and it hurt.  More
than she would have expected because she always known she
would fail with someone from time to time.

The fifth day, Alex was waiting for her in her office when she
arrived at the clinic.  The sight of him stopped her
momentarily and she gaped at him when she realized he was
there.  She walked past him quickly, beckoning him into her
office and closing the door behind him.  "I expect that, as a
minimum, you've come to demand a new therapist.  I've already
made the arrangements.  You start with her on Monday.  I
thought I would have to track you down today so I did not plan
for her to start today, but we can check to see if she's free,
for a meeting if nothing else."  Gemma realized she was
blathering.

Alex lifted a single blond eyebrow. "What the hell are you
talking about?"

"Why, your reassignment, of course.  I went too far, too soon
and I guess I'm sorry for that.  I understand that you don't
want to work with me anymore, but you have to work with
someone.  I can't have that failure hanging over me, too."

"I don't want another therapist.  I want you.  I had to
resolve some things in my head."  He gave her the look, again
and she looked away.  "I had to answer the questions you asked
me that night, before you ....  well, before you spanked me. 
I don't know if I can take it.  I've slept on my stomach and
have done everything else standing up since then.  All I do
know that you have become very important to me, far beyond
what we do in the lair.  I have to try and accept the rest of
you, just like you said.  All parts of you.  I think I love
you and I have to find out what that means."

Gemma stared at him.  "You don't want to love me, Alex. I am
almost ten years older than you and I can be the most thorough
going bitch.  That night is just the merest of samples.  Men
suffer at my hands.  I challenge their most basic strengths
and weaknesses during my tests and sessions.  My man, the man
I accept as my mate, well, he will suffer more. He will
continually challenge me and prove himself to me.  I will
prove myself to him.  I am a dominant and I like it that way,
so don't expect me to change."

Alex gave her a lopsided grin.  "Kinda figured that out for
myself, lady.  The age doesn't matter.  My right leg is
effectively twenty years older than you right now.  I know
that loving you is not the most intelligent thing I have ever
done in my life.  I spent the last few days with the same
argument, trying to talk myself out of my feelings.  Didn't
work.  I have to try.  Are you willing to help me?  I figure
this is something I have to learn, just like wrestling.  You
have to fight the pain out there on the mat, too."

Gemma nodded as she swallowed to regain control of her voice. 
"If you are sure."  He gave her a quiet nod.  "Well, if you
are going to be trained, you will need a safety word so that
you can tell me when the session is going too far for you.  I
can tell you right now that some will.  A safety word stops
the activity in progress, sometimes the session, Alex. 
Sometimes, with someone like me, it can also end the
relationship.  Use yours carefully.  I think "white tail" will
do nicely."  She smirked at the thought.  "It will be the only
'white tail' you'll have so long as you are with me."  She saw
him frown and hurried to fill in the silence. "We'll go at a
pace you can stand.  I won't hazard your recovery.  And I will
always explain.  I am severe, Alex.  This is not a game with
me. I will cause you pain so that you can challenge it,
overcome it and defeat it.  We will be great together."  Her
eyes glittered at the thought.  "Now, let's go hit the lair. 
You have work to make up."

Their first date occurred shortly after that.  He won the bet
that time.  She agreed to go as long as they went into the
city where she wasn't known.  When he arrived, she was a
walking object lesson in what he could expect when she was put
out with him.  She was in full form.  She wore a black leather
mini dress over a see through black blouse that showed the
white lace bra beneath.  She wore black seamed stockings and
her highest heels, giving her an almost ten inch height
advantage over her suitor.  She expected him to stammer or
blanche when confronted by her.  He did neither.

He took her to a nice little Italian restaurant and then
dancing at a club.  They drew stares, but only because she was
so tall and striking, and through it all, Alex was the perfect
gentleman.  Attentive, interesting, intelligent and he
intrigued her.  He insisted on dancing all the slow dances
with her (his leg was not up to the faster ones, yet) and
showed no indication of embarrassment at being towered over by
his date.

He took her home, escorted her to her door and asked her if
she wanted him to check the house for her.  She declined,
pointing out that she always came home to an empty house.  As
she turned to go in, Alex scooped her up into his arms,
balancing most of the weight on his good leg, so that her head
was at his level.  Then he kissed her hard and deep, set her
back on her feet, and left a very confused dominatrix behind
him.

She accelerated his therapy because she wanted him in her
dungeon, kneeling at her feet.  He could not kneel for any
length of time until almost a year after she had first met
him.  The first session in the dungeon included a twenty
minute strapping, kneeling over her whipping block.  Alex
could not drive home after that session, could not sit for
almost a week.  She had been afraid that she had gone too far
again, but still he had stayed.  She had kept him in her bed
so that he would not sneak away.  It was the first time they
had slept together and the first time they were in any way
sexually intimate outside of the clearly defined boundaries of
a scene.  

Sexual release had been a part of their sessions for a long
time.  He had performed extended cunnilingus and she had
either masturbated him or overseen him performing the deed
himself.  This was the first time they had been together
without the impetus of the dominance and submission that
marked their only other experiences.  

Alex had been in no shape to make regular love.  His backside,
hips and knee were too sore.  But, as Gemma had been quick to
point out, his tongue wasn't hurt.  Merely inept, she had told
him afterwards.  He still had a lot to learn about the
subtleties of proper oral worship of a woman.  She looked
forward to overseeing and benefiting from the instruction.  So
did he.  She also looked forward to administering the
penalties for faulty service. 
