James Franco & Co. Discuss the BDSM-Porn Documentary ‘Kink’ at Sundance

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A Candlelight Story: Part 3

This story was recommended by Twitter's gorgeous @MissDeviant1 and written by @no1slave: More at  http://no1slavetomissdeviant.blogspot.co.uk/

Mistress removed the cuffs from slave’s wrists, and slave collapsed on the floor exhausted.  “that’s right slave, you stay down there and lay on your back.  We have another fun activity in-store for you”, Mistress chuckled.  “you rest up, you will need your energy later.”  Slave was wondering what creative sadistic delights Mistress had in mind, but he took the opportunity to rest.

Mistress brought out the ankle cuffs and attached them to slave’s ankles and the suspending chain dangling from the ceiling.

Mistress stood over slave, “Are you ready to please your Mistress slave?”

“Yes Mistress, I’m always ready to please you Mistress!” he replied, nervous about what will happen next but anxious to perform well for his Mistress.

Mistress then hoisted slave by his ankles off the floor.  Slowly he was lifted with the sounds of the chain links ringing throughout the room until slave was fully off the floor suspended upside-down by his feet.  Slave could feel the blood slowly rush to his head as he saw his Mistress approach him.  It was a strange sensation seeing his Mistress and Sebastian upside-down and he felt completely vulnerable.

Mistress slowly walked around her slave circling his suspended body.  The sound of her stiletto heels on the wooden floor rang in his ears. Mistress’s hands circled his waist and caressed the rising welts of his arse.  The oil on his skin gave the welts a beautiful sheen accentuated by the candles lit throughout the room. There were varying shades of purple and red that seem to change colour right before her eyes.

“How does that arse feel slave?” Mistress looked down as she gave several hard slaps on his bottom.  Slave winced at each slap but tried to hold himself still not to disappoint Mistress.  “These are some beautiful marks, but I think we can do better, don’t you slave?  Are you ready to take some more pain for your Mistress?” she purred knowing her slave was excited to please her more.

“Yes Mistress!  PLEASE let me take more pain for you!” he replied sensing the blood rushing to his head.

“Good boy!  I think a game of noughts-and-crosses is in order.  Sebastian, please fetch me my special cane.”  Sebastian returned with thin acrylic cane and presented it to Mistress on his knees.  “Thank you Sebastian, now stand in front of slave.”

Mistress circled her slave slowly stopping in front of slave’s well-marked arse.  The raised welts ran across both arse cheeks, perfectly parallel from each other.  Mistress studied the marks and positioned herself for slave’s next round of torture.  “Are you ready slave?” Mistress asked as she raised the cane.

“Yes Mistress, and thank you Mistress” he replied.

With steady aim, the cane came down on his arse making a vertical line across the raised welts.  Mistress concentrated and delivered five more stokes on the same spot.  The vertical mark ran perfectly across existing horizontal welts on his left cheek.  The mark quickly turned into a raised crimson welt.  Mistress was very pleased and positioned herself for the next round.  Mistress applied five more vertical strokes next to the previous one, taking her time to ensure accuracy.  Slave let out a yelp on each stroke trying desperately to take the pain for his Mistress.

Sebastian was mesmerized by his Mistress.  Mistress was getting very excited, her eyes lit up with each stroke, smiling as she continued to satisfy her sadistic pleasure.  Sebastian was getting very aroused seeing his Mistress sadistically turned-on.  “Oh my Sebastian!” Mistress stopped momentarily, “are we getting excited?”

“Slave, you are making way too much noise.  It is time to keep you a little busy”  Mistress raised slave several inches higher off the floor to that his mouth was perfectly aligned with Sebastian’s growing hard-on.  “you know what to do slave.  You make sure you keep that cock hard for your Mistress”

Slave held the base of Sebastian’s cock watching the shaft swell with ridges more pronounced.  Slave then eagerly used his tongue to circle Sebastian’s cock, running his tongue up and down the raging hard-on.  “good boy!  Mistress has trained you very well.” she purred as she positioned herself for his right cheek.

Whack! Mistress delivered the first stroke running perfectly across the existing welts.  Slave let out a yell in pain.  “You keep still slave and deep throat that cock.  It has been a long time for Sebastian.  Before I am through, I want you to make him cum.” Mistress ordered.  “yes Mistress, thank you Mistress”

Mistress was truly excited now.  She was ready to finish her masterpiece, torturing her slave while he was satisfying a huge black cock.  She was light-headed at the thought, but now she concentrated.  Whack…Whack…Whack… she came down on accurately on the same spot with a perfect welt forming.  Slave grimaced in pain but still eagerly deep-throating Sebastian’s cock.  Sebastian was groaning watching his Mistress’s sadistic smile while slave was devouring his cock.  Whack….Whack…Whack…Mistress formed a new vertical line, smiling and breathing heavily.  Slave continued to deep-throat Sebastian’s cock, his head bobbing up-and-down on his 8” shaft.  Slave could taste a bit of pre-cum as he eagerly continued.   Mistress prepared for the final welt, Whack….whack….whack….whack… as the 3rd welt was forming.  Slave’s eyes were watering from the strokes and the huge cock pushing down his throat.  As Mistress delivered the final stroke….WHACK…Sebastian let out a loud groan as he exploded into slave’s mouth.  Turned on and breathing heavily, Mistress commanded, “you cock-sucking whore!  you take all of that cum slave, every drop!”  Slave eagerly complied, licking up and down his shaft, savouring every drop for his Mistress.  “Good boy! Good boy…my, we are a little cum bucket aren't we.”

Mistress stood back to admire the masterpiece she created on slave’s arse.  Both cheeks were beet red with perfect lines forming two sets of naughts-and-crosses.  Mistress had mixed emotions of sexual arousal and pride at her work, made with such sadistic precision.  She stood admiring the mixed colours on the perfectly formed welts dancing with the flickering shadows cast by the candlelights.  It took her breath away.

Mistress instructed Sebastian to stand back as she retrieved his chastity.  “Now Sebastian, I hope you enjoyed your little treat today.  We will need to keep this on you for the next 3 months.  If you are very good, we will see if you deserve another treat.  I am sure slave will be very eager, won’t you slave?”

“Yes Mistress, very eager, thank you”

Mistress instructed Sebastian to kneel in the corner as she approached her slave.  “You were very good tonight slave.  I think you deserve a treat too.”  Staring at his Mistress upside-down, slave was anxiously waiting for his Mistress’s next instructions.  “Slave, I see my cock is very hard. Stroke my cock for your Mistress.”  Slave slowly stroked his cock getting harder in his hands.  “let’s see if you can take more pain for your Mistress,” she purred as she grabbed the chain attached to his nipple clamps.  She pulled on the chain causing slave to swing back-and-forth.  Mistress smiled down upon her slave taking sadistic pleasure in torturing him.  Slave was stroking his cock faster as he continued to swing back-and-forth with Mistress tugging on his tortured nipples.  “Now slave, are ready for your treat?” she smiled.  “Yes Mistress, oh god yes!”

As slave swung back toward Mistress, Mistress then held the nipple clamp chain taught, holding slave in a suspended position.  Mistress was holding part of slave’s weight with the nipple chain, and slave was almost blind with pain.  “You love your Mistress slave?  Will you take this pain for your Mistress?”  “oh god!…yes!…yes!… Mistress!  I do love you!” he replied in agony but with undying love for his Mistress.  “very good slave!  Now on the count of five, I want you to make my cock cum all over you.  One….Two….Three…”  Slave was in excruciating pain but incredibly turned on seeing the sadistic smile on his Mistress’s face.  “Four….” Slave continued to stroke his Mistress’s cock, faster and faster…..”FIVE”  After a few seconds, slave let out a groan that echoed throughout the whole building.  A geyser of cum shot out a couple of feet and landed on his neck and face….the chains were rattling violently…

 A phone ring awakened Mistress from her nap.  “hello”, slave answered the phone, “no thank you”, he continued. It was telemarketing call.  Breathless, she looked up a slave, confused and still collecting her thoughts.  “is everything okay Mistress?” he asked.

Taking an additional moment, she realized she had the most intense dream, but it seemed so real.  “oh I am okay slave, thank you.”  Mistress got up and realised it was twilight and it was getting dark outside. 

With the dream still fresh on her mind, “Slave, I need for you to go to the store for me”

“What do you need Mistress?”

“We will start with candles”

The transgender taboo is a threat to academic freedom

www.stoppingthehate.com

The Sunday Times over the weekend had a feature about six children suffering from Gender Identity Disorder who are being given drugs to delay the onset of puberty, giving them more time to decide whether they wish to change sex later in life.

The operations are being paid for by the taxpayers, although I don't think that's the issue. If the state can pay several thousands to save a person from a life of misery and eventual suicide then I for one think that is money well-spent. And yet the strange thing is that, taking aside the fact that “blockers” may affect cognitive ability and bone density, there's actually no accepted medical proof or consensus that sex change operations actually help someone's mental health; we may one day find that it does, but we simply don’t know enough at the moment.

Yet that hasn't stopped the growth of a political orthodoxy that boys and girls are sometimes born into the wrong bodies – their gender does not match their physical sex – and that this is best fixed by hormone treatment and/or surgery later in life; and that anyone who finds this uncomfortable suffers themselves from a psychological condition, apparently, called transphobia.

This is the only explanation acceptable to the media and, indeed, the state, which spends a fair deal of money (which we don’t have) combating transphobia. Yet at the moment science is still quite confused about Gender Identity Disorder, and what is acceptable to say about it is constrained by taboo and threats, and academics who argue against the standard political narrative tend to get persecuted. A few years back Prof Michael Bailey wrote a book about the subject, The Man Who Would Be Queen, detailing a theory which suggested that there were two kinds of transsexualism - "homosexual transsexuals", who are attracted to men, and "non-homosexual transsexuals", who are aroused by the image of themselves as a woman. The controversy arose over the implication that transsexuals were men, rather than women in men's bodies.

Despite the book being widely praised by the likes of Steven Pinker and neuroscientist Simon LeVay, and various gay writers, Prof Bailey was effectively hounded out of academia; a petition organised by a transgender protest group ensured that the Lambda Literary Foundation withdrew the book from its shortlist, while one campaigner constructed a website with pictures of Bailey’s children with sexually explicit captions.

It’s one thing to use such outrage against newspaper columnists, shock jocks or religious leaders who argue their views based on faith (although many who attack the religious demand their beliefs are treated with respect and reverence), but to do so against academics seems contrary to the scientific method. An academic should not be attacked for hate-think, only for being proven wrong. I have no idea whether Bailey is right or wrong, but the subject should not be politically restricted at any rate.

Certainly the political orthodoxy is influenced by the concept of “gender” as something almost unrelated to biology, an idea that really should be given its one-way ticket to Switzerland, yet which is still believed by many intelligent people. There was a story the other day about a boy, aged five, whose “gender” had been kept secret until now.

Yesterday Miss Laxton, a web editor, said that she thought gender stereotyping was "fundamentally stupid".

"I wanted to avoid all that stereotyping," she said.

"Stereotypes seem fundamentally stupid. Why would you want to slot people into boxes?”

I’m sure she’s an excellent mother, and I doubt he’ll be troubled by this slight experiment when in years to come he’s a commander in the Parachute Regiment, but it sounds like the sort of thing people of the 22nd century will laugh at as typical of our crazy age. Stereotyping is not only not fundamentally stupid, but it’s fundamentally necessary, as Norman Dennis wrote in this essential account of the Salem-like events that followed the Stephen Lawrence murder: “In any interaction where there are consequences for the individual, responding to the self-chosen stereotype presented by the other person is indispensable. To ask for anybody to deal with everybody in all circumstances on the basis of what the other person is ‘really’ like is to ask the impossible.”

So stereotyping males is a necessary social shorthand, and while of course men display a range of temperaments in their propensity to violence, emotional sensitivity, physical strength or anything else, and many men are closer to the female average in many areas, to suggest that gender is separate from sex is a sort of flat-earth feminism.

And what's the orthodoxy in one generation can quickly become laughable in the next. There was a New York Time piece the other about how autism in France is still treated using Freud: “Le Mur,” or “The Wall,” a small documentary film about autism released online last year, might normally not have attracted much attention.

But an effort by French psychoanalysts to keep it from public eyes has helped to make it into a minor cause and shone a spotlight on the way children in France are treated for mental health problems.

The documentary, the first film by Sophie Robert, follows two autistic boys: Guillaume, who has been treated with the behavioral, or “American,” approach; and Julien, who has been kept in an asylum for six years and treated with psychoanalysis. Guillaume, though challenged, is functioning at a high level in school. Julien is essentially silent, locked out of society…

Ms. Robert said the version of psychoanalysis that is most prevalent in France, particularly the post-Freudian school championed by Jacques Lacan, takes it as a given that autism and other mental health problems are caused by children’s relationship with their mothers, or by “maternal madness.”

A generation ago Freud's ideas were the all-powerful in the English-speaking world; now to American and British readers the idea that autism is being treated using psychoanalysis seems positively medieval. The same may well turn out true for Gender Identity Disorder, especially when one considers that most children who suffer from it later come to realise that they were born in the right body after all.

Anyway. I hope children given the blockers grow up to be healthy, happy people as a result; but I for one would like to see more evidence, one way or the other.

By Ed West / the Telegraph

Here is Julie Burchill's censored Observer article

By Toby Young: January 14th, 2013 LINK HERE FOR TELEGRAPH

Julie Burchill has given me permission to reprint the article the Observer has seen fit to unpublish. This is the full text.

The brilliant writer Suzanne Moore and I go back a long way. I first met her when she was a young single mother living in a council flat; she took me out to interview me about my novel Ambition (re-published by Corvus Books this spring, since you ask) for dear dead City Limits magazine. "I’ve got an entertaining budget of £12.50!" she said proudly. "Sod that, we’re having lobster and champagne at Frederick’s, and I’m paying," I told her. Half a bottle of Bolly later, she looked at me with faraway eyes: "Ooo, I could get to like this…’ And so she did.

I have observed her rise to the forefront of this country’s great polemicists with a whole lot of pride – and just a tiny bit of envy. I am godmother to her three brilliant, beautiful daughters. Though we differ on certain issues we will have each others backs till the sacred cows come home.

With this in mind, I was incredulous to read that my friend was being monstered on Twitter, to the extent that she had quit it, for supposedly picking on a minority – transsexuals. Though I imagine it to be something akin to being savaged by a dead sheep, as Denis Healey had it of Geoffrey Howe, I nevertheless felt indignant that a woman of such style and substance should be driven from her chosen mode of time-wasting by a bunch of dicks in chick’s clothing.

To my mind – I have given cool-headed consideration to the matter – a gaggle of transsexuals telling Suzanne Moore how to write looks a lot like how I’d imagine the Black & White Minstrels telling Usain Bolt how to run would look. That rude and ridic.

Here’s what happened. In a book of essays called Red: The Waterstones Anthology, Suzanne contributed a piece about women’s anger. She wrote that, amongst other things, women were angry about "not having the ideal body shape – that of a Brazilian transsexual". Rather than join her in decrying the idea that every broad should aim to look like an oven-ready porn star, the very vociferous transsexual lobby and their grim groupies picked on the messenger instead.

I must say that my only experience of the trans lobby thus far was hearing about the vile way they have persecuted another of my friends, the veteran women’s rights and anti-domestic violence activist Julie Bindel, picketing events where she is speaking about such minor issues as the rape of children and the trafficking of women just because she refuses to accept that their relationship with their phantom limb is the most pressing problem that women – real and imagined – are facing right now.

Similarly, Suzanne’s original piece was about the real horror of the bigger picture – how the savagery of a few old Etonians is having real, ruinous effects on the lives of the weakest members of our society, many of whom happen to be women. The reaction of the trans lobby reminded me very much of those wretched inner-city kids who shoot another inner-city kid dead in a fast-food shop for not showing him enough ‘respect’. Ignore the real enemy – they’re strong and will need real effort and organization to fight. How much easier to lash out at those who are conveniently close to hand!

But they’d rather argue over semantics. To be fair, after having one’s nuts taken off (see what I did there?)) by endless decades in academia, it’s all most of them are fit to do. Educated beyond all common sense and honesty, it was a hoot to see the screaming-mimis accuse Suze of white feminist privilege; it may have been this which made her finally respond in the subsequent salty language she employed to answer her Twitter critics: "People can just fuck off really. Cut their dicks off and be more feminist than me. Good for them."

She, the other JB and I are part of the tiny minority of women of working-class origin to make it in what used to be called Fleet Street and I think this partly contributes to the stand-off with the trannies. (I know that’s a wrong word, but having recently discovered that their lot describe born women as ‘Cis’ – sounds like syph, cyst, cistern; all nasty stuff – they’re lucky I’m not calling them shemales. Or shims.) We know that everything we have, we got for ourselves. We have no family money, no safety net. And we are damned if we are going to be accused of being privileged by a bunch of bed-wetters in bad wigs.

It’s been noted before that cyberspace, though supposedly all new and shiny, is plagued by the age old boredom of men telling women not to talk, and threatening them will all kinds of nastiness if they persist in saying what they feel.

The trans lobby are now saying that it wasn’t so much the initial piece as Suzanne’s refusal to apologise when told to that "made" them drive her from Twitter. Presumably she is meant to do this in the name of solidarity and the "struggle" – though I find it very hard to imagine this mob struggling with anything apart from the English language and the concept of free speech.

To have your cock cut off and then plead special privileges as women – above natural-born women, who don’t know the meaning of suffering, apparently – is a bit like the old definition of chutzpah: the boy who killed his parents and then asked the jury for clemency on the grounds he was an orphan.

Shims, shemales, whatever you’re calling yourselves these days – don't  threaten or bully we lowly natural-born women, I warn you. We may not have as many lovely big swinging Phds as you, but we’ve experienced a lifetime of PMT and sexual harassment, and many of us are now staring HRT and the menopause straight in the face – and still not flinching. Trust me,  you ain’t seen nothing yet. You really won’t like us when we’re angry.

The Great Transsexual Radical Feminist Menace

A few years ago (2009 actually) I read an very interesting BLOG post regarding some radical, controversial and somewhat vitriol and angry views expressed by some feminists regarding Transgenderism.

Having re-read the article, I remembered the anger I felt during a 'Drag Queen' event I hosted a couple of years ago.

Briefly I shall explain:

I had a good friend who offered the use of his pub for our party. The venue happened to be a 'gay' pub. Naively, I didn't see any issues arising from the event being held in a gay pub. But, what actually took place - behind the scenes- as you might say during the evening, shocked me. There was a definite divide amongst the two sets of party attendees. There was an almost aggressive animosity from the 'regular' lesbian pub goers towards the transgendered / transsexual and cross dressing party attendees.

At first, I really couldn't work it out. I remember marching in late 80's (yes - I was still a wee girl then) and 90's throughout London, fighting for 'gay rights', EQUALITY and acceptance. I couldn't understand how or why, one section of a minority group ( who should understand the struggle for acceptance and equality ) could be so against the struggles of another?

As is my character, I started asking questions.... The one comment I can clearly remember was this: "I may be a lesbian, but I'm still ALL woman! Not some wannabe. My pussy's real."

You can imagine, the anger and disappointment I felt.

Going back to the article I read:

*****************************************************

In my daily crawl through Google alert land, I found a post over at Egarooo that said:

“I don’t give a shit whether or not they [MTF transsexuals] want to chop themselves up. I don’t give a shit if they want to wear dresses. That doesn’t make them female. It doesn’t mean their issues and concerns are female issues and concerns. So long as female issues and concerns are subsumed to and absorbed by male interests (as they are when male people call themselves and are accepted as female), women will never socially realise our full humanity AS FEMALE PEOPLE.”

I responded at the blog with:

“I think your first five words say it all. You don’t give a shit. Obviously. You follow a belief that it something akin to religion, because it’s not based on any rational basis, only belief (a belief that isn’t falsifiable). The science on transsexuality on the other hand, is growing."

Additionally, if you looked at human beings as people and not objects, you’d not spout such ridiculous stereotypical nonsense. Just because I’m a transsexual doesn’t mean I’m mentally handicapped. I know what my biology is. I know what my chromosomes are. But in the big scheme of things, how many people see your genitals? How do they oppress you, by looking down your pants? No. We may not be biologically female, but I’m not sure how that matters, given that oppression is based on gender, not sex. In the case of transsexuals, gender is the ‘social position’, not sex. Those that have ‘the behavioural, cultural, or psychological traits typically associated with one sex’ (gender), are oppressed no matter what their genitals are (unless there is some inspection that I just don’t know about).

But then to your kind, the facts don’t matter. People don’t matter. The good side of radical feminism is that it is a radical pathology that will, because of its weaknesses, never gain access to power.”

Under their theory (that the radical feminist goal is to have female people be acknowledged as BOTH female AND human), it’s biology that suppresses and oppresses, not gender. But that makes no rational sense. If you are treated in this world as female, even though you aren’t biologically, how is that oppression any different? Light skinned African American can have access to to white privilege because of their skin colour. If they are perceived to be white, they are white in the social sphere. Their biology or lineage have little impact on their privilege, unless it is publicly known.

What amazes me is the vitriol and anger that is spewed by these kind of people. It reminds me of the same kind of emotional response that my Klansman grandfather would have to African Americans. It wasn’t a rational response, but an emotional one. I just can’t understand the source (in both cases).

“I mean, whoop-de-fucking-doo if a male can call himself female and have his humanity recognised. What about recognition of the humanity of female people who actually acknowledge and accept that they are, in fact, female?”

Are these radical feminists removed from society enough to know that:

A study in the San Francisco Bay Area conducted in 2006 of 194 transgender individuals found a 35% unemployment rate, with 59% earning less than $15,300 annually.

Nationwide, the rates of employment discrimination against transgender people are consistently high. A Williams Institute review of six studies conducted in cities and regions on both coasts and the Midwest, showed the following ranges for experiences of discrimination based on gender identity:

13%-56% of transgender people had been fired

13%-47% had been denied employment

22%-31% had been harassed, either verbally or physically, in the workplace – source @ Transgroup blog

I’m not going to play the “my oppression is worse than your oppression” card, but to insist that we have our humanity validated is just ludicrous. One look at TransgenderDOR gives you an idea of how well our humanity is validated. But then it really doesn’t matter to them because they “don’t really give a shit.”

One of my friends wrote the following poem, and it’s always touched a part inside of me that wants to understand people that have such hatred in their heart:

for a friend… (Desiree Handley)

I want to sit you down

ask three thousand questions

because

I don’t understand

where the hate comes from.

I don’t understand

how you put together

those words

in that order

to say the most hurtful

hateful angry things.

 

I don’t understand

how you’re making sense

of this

in your head.

 

I don’t understand

the sadness and isolation

lack of self or love

that must be rotting away

inside you.

 

Please

show me the light

you’ve been using

in what I can only imagine

is the darkness

of your mind.

and if you won’t speak

if you can’t

explain justify rationalize

(anything please,

I'm begging you)

I'm going to open you up

climb inside and

search for some reasoning,

I need evidence

that something made you this way

and then

we’ll go about fixing it.

because

you presented yourself

as human

but yet

I find no humanity.

 

I'm racking my brain

for a story

of how you came to be

and

in the archives

of myself, I find

only a single line,

which echoes,

pity this busy monster, man unkind

and I think

how can I pity you?

but mister E.E.Cummings

hid the answer

on the next line

which didn’t spring

to mind so quickly,

his words were

pity this busy monster, man unkind,

not.

 

So please

give me some reason

to believe

you are not this

monster

because I don’t want to

hate

I don’t want to be

you.

SOURCE: http://www.transadvocate.com/the-great-transsexual-radical-feminist-menace.htm

A Definition of Submission

Author Unknown

Submission is not about suffering . . .

. . . Submission is about service.

Submission is not about humiliation . . .

. . . Submission is about humility.

Submission is not about pain . . .

. . . Submission is about being present.

Submission is not about being used . . .

. . . Submission is about being of use.

Submission is not about control . . .

. . . Submission is about letting go.

Submission is not about what is done to you .

. . . Submission is about what you do for others.

Submission is not about abuse . . .

. . . Submission is about acceptance.

Submission is not about proving anything . . .

. . . Submission is about being real.

Submission is not about contempt . . .

. . . Submission is about respect.

Submission is not about how you look . . .

. . . Submission is about how much you care.

Submission is not about denying yourself . . .

. . . Submission is about being open.

Submission is not about bondage . . .

. . . Submission is about freeing your spirit.

Submission is not about punishment . . .

. . . Submission is about discipline.

Submission is not about being unable to escape . . .

. . . Submission is about being committed.

Submission is not about submission . . .

. . . Submission is about obedience.

Submission is not about fear . . .

. . . Submission is about trust.

Submission is not about sex . . .

. . . Submission is about love.

Submission is not about pleasure . . .

. . . Submission is about happiness

A Candlelight Story: Part 2

This story was recommended by Twitter's gorgeous @MissDeviant1 and written by @no1slave

Upon hearing his Mistress’s voice, Sebastian crawled into the room on his hands and knees. Sebastian was a fine specimen of Jamaican descent, well-built with a plump ass resembling two brown cantaloupes.

“Stand up Sebastian! Let you Mistress inspect you”, Mistress commanded.  Sebastian jumped up, revealing the chastity cage he has worn for over a month. Mistress circled Sebastian caressing his body with her riding crop.  “Mmmm, that is a fine body, wouldn’t you agree slave?” she replied huskily.

“Yes, Mistress, a very fine body”, slave replied while still balancing himself on the soles of feet still slightly suspended.

“Ahhh..Sebastian, you’re still in your cage. Are you ready for your treat tonight?” she purred stroking the edges of his cage, barely touching his growing cock.  Sebastian nodded his head several times, unable to speak with his ball gag attached.

“How about you slut? Are you ready for your treat tonight too?” she remarked looking over at slave.

“Yes, Mistress, very much, thank you!” he replied.

“Looks like everyone is going to get a treat, Mistress is feeling very generous tonight”, she chuckled.  Mistress walked to the counter to grab the chastity key and sensual oil.

 ”It is time we release that fine cock of yours Sebastian” Mistress unlocked the holding ring and slipped the cage off his cock. It was growing instantly, being free after a month in captivity. Mistress rubbed the oil over his entire body caressing the curves of his muscular ass and working her way to his groin area.

“Mmmm…Are we getting excited Sebastian? So is your Mistress”

Mistress quickly gave his cock several hard slaps with Sebastian groaned in pain and pleasure.

“Is this what you have waited for?” she replied. He nodded still groaning. “GOOD BOY” she said and continued to slap his cock harder and harder with a devilish grin.

 ”MMMM…I love torturing my two cocks!” as she continued slapping his cock. Mistress stood Sebastian next to slave who was also getting hard witnessing Sebastian’s torture. “Now I have my two cocks to play with! My black and white cocks!” she said with excitement and started using both her hands to slap both cocks in a smooth rhythm not missing a beat.

Both of them were groaned in unison, as she laughed pleased with her talent. Mistress continued to slap each cock in succession, her eyes lighting up in sadistic pleasure as the cocks were getting beat red. She stopped momentarily to softly stroke both cocks while gazing into their eyes.

“Your Mistress did promise both of you a treat tonight. Sebastian is free for tonight. Let’s make the most of his temporary freedom.”

Mistress grabbed a fire engine red lipstick from the counter and stood facing slave. She stood close enough for his hardened cock to slide in between her thighs.

 ”My, my slave! Is my little, cock-sucking whore getting excited? Look at that cock of yours getting hard!” she whispered glancing at his nipples.

Mistress softly caressed his nipples while whispering into his ear, “you love your Mistress? Do you want to please your Mistress tonight? Then I want you to be a good little cock-sucking whore.  Just like I trained you to be. But first we need to get you ready,” she said chuckling.

Mistress applied the lipstick to slave’s lips, his eyes lighting up in anticipation. Mistress held out her index finger toward his lips as he slowly covered her finger with his lips and slowly pulled away.

“Mmmmm…I have trained you well slave! Let’s get you in a better place slave,” she chuckled.

Mistress went across the room to lower the suspending chain. Slave’s body lowered to the floor allowing him to stay on his knees but with his arms still extended over his head.

“Mmm…slave is in the perfect position…look at my little whore…ready to please his Mistress” she purred. She positioned Sebastian to stand in front of slave. Sebastian’s cock was just out of reach of slave’s rosy red lips.

“Come on my little slut, you know what to do. Get Sebastian’s cock ready for you! I want that cock nice and hard to pound that sweet ass of yours!”

Slave struggled but extended his neck to slowly caress his growing cock with his tongue, slowly licking up and down his shaft before covering half of his cock in his mouth. Slave was moaning like a little whore satisfied that he had a cock to suck and pleasing his Mistress. Sebastian reeled his head back in pleasure while Mistress grabbed her paddle.

“Oh, I think we can do better than that Sebastian!” she said as she whacked his ass with the paddle. The impact made Sebastian thrust his hips forward forcing his cock deeper into slave throat. Slave made a choking sound as Mistress became very excited.

 ”That’s more like it…I want you to (whack) fuck that sweet (whack) whore’s mouth and (whack) make him gag (whack) on that huge (whack) cock of yours,” she grunted with every impact of the paddle.

 Sebastian groaned from the stings of the paddle while slave moaning and gagging on his cock. Both Sebastian and slave were getting very excited, and Mistress stopped to see her creation glistening under the candlelight’s with beautiful contrasting colours. Slave could taste a little pre-cum forming on Sebastian’s cock, and he stopped momentarily to continue licking his shaft up and down.

Mistress walked over and grabbed slave’s hair forcing his head back.

“That’s enough my greedy little slut! Let’s not get Sebastian TOO excited. He has another job to do for his Mistress,” she commanded. Mistress placed a condom on the head of Sebastian’s cock.

“You know what to do slave,” she barked out.

Slave proceeded to use his mouth to apply the condom to the rest of his cock. Mistress walked back across the room to raise the suspending chain. Slave slowly raised up to his original position but with his feet flat on the floor. Mistress positioned Sebastian to be directly behind slave and his still-burning red/purple ass. Sebastian’s cock was still very hard and resting between the ass cheeks of slave.

“Mmmmm…that is what your Mistress wants to see! Mmmm…God, that turns Mistress on,” she softly said slowly caressing her clit.  Mistress stood in front of slave and applied the nipple clamps.

As she squeezed the nipple clamps on slave, “That’s right, you take that pain for your Mistress and you ride that cock like a good little whore”.

Slave bent over to help force Sebastian’s cock into his ass. It slowly went in with slave letting out a groan. Slave’s hips rocked back and forth fucking himself with Sebastian’s raging hard-on. Sebastian was moaning through his mouth gag while slave was riding his cock. Mistress’s eyes lit up again, and with a sadistic smile continued to pull on the nipple clamps forcing slave to continue to ride his cock.

“Hmmm…I still think we can do better than that,” she said thoughtfully before getting her strap-on from the cabinet. Mistress lubed the huge shaft of the strap-on, “I think we need both asses fucked tonight, what do you think boys?” Mistress stood behind Sebastian and inserted the strap-on dildo straight into his tight ass.

Sebastian let out a loud groan while forcing his cock deeper into slave’s ass. With both hands, Mistress reached around Sebastian’s body and grabbed slave’s nipple clamps.

“Now stay with my rhythm boys,” she commanded.

 As she pulled on slave’s nipple clamps, she thrust her cock into Sebastian.  Sebastian would then be forced to go deeper into slave’s ass. All three were moving in unison in perfect rhythm. Their groans could barely be heard over Mistress’s sadistic laughter as she continued to pound Sebastian’s ass and torture slave’s nipples. She was in sensual sadist heaven!

Mistress sensed that Sebastian was ready to cum and stopped. She pulled Sebastian slowly away from slave and instructed him to stand still. Mistress slipped out of her strap-on and walked toward slave. She stood in front of slave with an evil grin staring into slave’s exhausted eyes.

 ”Now slave, your Mistress hasn’t forgotten about you,” she whispered as she inched closer caressing his tortured nipples. Slave’s cock was rubbing into her wet panties.

Mistress pulled on the nipple clamps whispering, “are you ready for your treat now?”, she chuckled.

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