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Chapter One: Introduction

Six women sat around the large dining room table in the opulent penthouse apartment. The apartment was located on Central Park West, occupied the top two floors of the building, and covered at least 6,000 square feet. The dining room was large and well-appointed, with a beautiful Tiffany chandelier suspended over the center of the table. The buzz of conversation around the table ceased as the woman at its head intoned, loudly, "The Society of Uber-Dommes will come to order! Our sixth annual meeting has begun."

The speaker was an exotic-looking woman in her early 40s, though she looked at least ten years younger. Her name was Octavia Rush, and she had an obscure if interesting background. A mixed-race child of uncertain heritage, her mother was apparently a Latin American part-time prostitute killed when the girl was four years old. Her father had probably been one of her mother's clients. Whatever the girl had lost by not having full-time parents, though, she had at least partially been compensated in that she was flat-out gorgeous. She stood 5'5", with a thin, lithe body, almost like a dancer's or a voluptuous ballerina. Her cafe au lait skin was flawless, and seemed almost to glow with some inner light. She had an oval face with full lips, a flat, snubbed nose, and large almond-shaped brown eyes that men seemed to find hypnotizing.

Octavia was dressed in a fashion becoming her station as the most prominent and powerful purveyor of BDSM-related services in the United States. She wore a black leather bustier that laced up in front, so that it displayed her cleavage. While her breasts weren't enormous, they were ample enough, and perfectly formed. the bustier was laced up the front, so it was open about two inches all the way down to its end, at her waist. From the bottom of it extended garters which held up a pair of seamed silk stockings, and under the garters was the skimpiest leather g-string anyone had ever seen. The ensemble was topped off with 6" heels, which lifted her heels very high, so that her calves were exquisitely displayed for all.

Though Octavia's mother had been a poor prostitute and she had grown up in foster care, she had come a great distance since her childhood. She had been abused as a child, of course, and exploited from the time one of her foster fathers noticed how beatiful she was, and the looks she attracted from his friends. However, she'd also proven willing, and very able, to manipulate those and any other men who crossed her path, to her great advantage. She soon disposed of the foster father--and his useless wife--and moved in with a man who had purchased her services. After six months, she'd liquidated all of his assets, and he killed himself soon afterwards. By the time she was attending college (and collecting a double Masters, in pschology and accounting) she was charging men $5,000 an hour, and providing any services they wished. At first, having been raised to be abused as a female, she accepted beatings and spankings, provided the client paid generously, but at age 20 she decided she would rather abuse the men who had been trying to exploit her all of her life, and from that time on she only dominated them. After college, she quickly moved up in the world, making a fortune in her first year, and by her third hiring women to take on jobs she didn't want, like the aforementioned beatings from male clients. Occasionally she would still accept punishment from a lesbian, but even that ceased by her thirtieth birthday. Now 43, she had a sexually-based empire that was headquartered in New York City. They had branch offices in Chicago, Atlanta, Houston, Los Angeles, and Mexico City, and at last count had 300 people working for her, mostly women. She was imperious, haughty, seemed to exude sex, and enjoyed every minute of the torture of a client, especially if the individual involved was paying her well. Most of them did.

She had, however, grown bored. Having men come to you and submit to all of your whims is erotic, in its way, but after awhile it can wear thin. She'd always had a lesbian streak in her, and as she approached what most people call their mid-life crisis, hers took an unusual turn. Instead of transforming completely into a lesbian, and only taking on female clients, she became enamored of the idea of having girlfriends, with whom she would "play" every once in a while. This allowed her to maintain her male clientele intact, and at the same time satisfy the urges that were coming to the forefront. Chief among these urges was a desire to see strong, dominant, demanding women turned into grovelling sluts, stripped of all dignity, composure, and aplomb, and degraded to the point that they were unrecognizable for who they had been. She wanted to play games with other women of her station, with the results of the games being that some of them would be the playthings of the rest, and she was indifferent to the threat that she might become the plaything. The result was the Society she'd formed, which met regularly. The ladies usually played a more extreme form of strip poker, with the losers winding up paying their debts in very exotic, not to say erotic, ways.

She'd chosen the five other women around the table for their looks, for the severity of their brand of BDSM, and because they were all wildly successful in the field of BDSM in their respective countries and regions throughout the world. All five of the other women had built or assisted in the operation of empires of perversion at least comparable to Octavia's. To her immediate left sat Carlotta Sin, an Asian woman much feared and respected in the Chinese BDSM community. Beyond Carlotta was Lady Veronica Paisley, the matriarch of a family of BDSM practioners based outside London. At the far end of the table was Jutte von Stern, a cold steely-eyed German woman who ran a matriarchical BDSM society in Berlin. On Octavia's right sat Patricia Smallwood, an Australian woman who ran a BDSM-themed resort/ranch in the Australian outback, while beyond her, sitting across from Lady Veronica and next to Jutte, was Natasha Vronsky, who worked in shadowy circumstances in Moscow and owned a string of BDSM-themed nightclubs throughout Russia.

Each of the women was unique, and in her own way was an expert, some would say *the* expert, in a field of perversion. Carlotta Sin, for instance, was a tiny woman. She was of Chinese extraction, and therefore had narrow eyes with the epicanthal fold, but the green shade of the eyes told that there had been some mixture of heritage at some point in her past. Her small, thin stature and delicate features belied her cruelty and her sadistic sense of aesthetics. She wore a red silk dress, designed by a famous European designer who shall remain nameless, which had cost her $75,000. It was split up one side, displayed her cleavage (again, small but well-formed breasts) very beatifully, and was drawn very tightly around her tiny waist. She wore small strapped sandals that were buckled around her ankles, and which added at least four inches to her height.

Carlotta's father had been a political dissident who'd been captured in the aftermath of Tianamen Square, and because he'd been so proud of his resistance, the authorities had gathered up his whole family. Carlotta had been 15 at the time, and where the rest of her family had wound up she had no idea--nor did she care. She'd been required to watch her mother undergo the tender ministrations of water torture, and her observation of what had occurred had been taped. When the head of the prison noted the way she'd reacted, with bated breath and barely concealed arousal, he'd questioned her, and what he'd learned excited him greatly. She was fond of her mother, but more excited and aroused watching her torture than she'd ever been about anything, in the past. The rest of the family had disappearred into China's prison camp system and were never seen again, but the prison head (whose name was Hong-Kai Lee) decided that she was worth the effort to keep. He arranged for her to stay, receive schooling in the prison, and after a while to begin to learn the techniques of torture. When the Chinese government began to sell off various assets and privatize them, the torture prison was one of the assets to be let go. Hong-Kai, however, had been clever with his prisoners in the past, and he had a vast fortune in Hong Kong banks. He'd been able to easily purchase the place, and he turned it into an exotic, and very perverse, BDSM-themed brothel. For the right fee, a client could "sentence" themselves to a day, week, month, or even a year of torture, humiliation, punishment, discipline, and rape. Both men and women in China's burgeoning fetish community thought this a wonderful way to spend a vacation, and in some instances married couples sentenced themselves, even on occasion bringing children who were considered old enough with them. Four years ago, Hong-Kai passed away at the age of 78, and he left everything he had to his prize pupil, Carlotta Sin. Carlotta was now in her middle 30s, making her one of the younger women around the table.

Beyond her was Lady Veronica Paisley. Where every one of the other women around the table had more or less chosen, or been pushed, into the BDSM and fetish community, only Lady Veronica could say she'd been *born* into it. Her family had been famous in fetish circles for generations. *Everyone* in her family, her parents, siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, nephews and nieces, *everyone* was perverse, and most of them were more or less dominant. All of the family, however, was raised in a disciplined fashion, with weekly beatings and monthly torture sessions to deal with serious infractions. While the senior generation of the family tended to rule the roost, so to speak, there were exceptions--one of Lady Veronica's matron aunts, a widow in her late 50s, was carrying on an affair with one of her teenaged grandsons. Aunt cecily had decided that young Hugh needed to be shown how a real lady takes a caning and a cornholing, and so she'd undertaken the task herself, and they were both enjoying the process thoroughly.

The Paisley family elected a new leader whenever one passed away, and Lady Veronica had been elected 15 years ago. She was, at 52, the oldest woman sitting around Octavia's table, but no one would have guessed. Creamy white skin, pale blond hair, and even paler gray eyes set in a smooth, unlined face seemed to imply that she was in her late 30s, at the oldest. She was of above-average height, with a narrow waist, generous hips, and rather large breasts. Wearing a grey cocktail dress off one shoulder and looking very elegant, with open-toed stiletto heels that were higher than Octavia's, she towered over most women and even some men. Her icy demeanor and attitude were only reinforced by the fact that underneath the dress, she wore a very constricting whalebone corset that had been cinched down, around her waist, to sixteen inches. When she was a teenager, her mother had insisted on the removal of not one but two ribs, on each side, so that her waist would shrink to where the older woman wanted it. Lady Veronica's mother served as a scullery maid in her household these days, and often suffered for the least infraction of the house rules. However, she accepted her lot in life, because after all she'd known that her daughter might one day become leader of the family. She'd had her daughter's ribs removed because she might become family head, not in spite of the fact, and didn't regret for a minute her penance. The family was ridiculously wealthy; Lady Veronica probably controlled more money than the other five women at the table combined. They were also known for their wicked parties, the best in the fetish community, anywhere.

Jutte von Stern, the German woman, loomed over the end of the table, a Teutonic presence that seemed to menace those around her, just by her presence. Jutte was in her mid-40s, with golden-blonde hair falling in gentle, gracious curls to her shoulders. She had a classic, Greta-Garbo-ish face, complete with beauty mark and seductive, if jaded, smile. She was the tallest of the women, easily over six feet, and she towered over even Lady Veronica. Her massive breasts didn't seem to sag at all inside their open-cup leather bra, which in reality did nothing to conceal her aureolae, large as a child's teacup saucer. The breasts themselves were larger than many cantaloupes. Her flawless skin was tanned and gorgeous, and she wore a pair of leather chaps, extending down to her ankles, over a skin-tight pair of black leather hot pants. The whole ensemble was topped off by a pair of black leather boots, laced up the calves to just below her knees, and sporting heels that raised her to the height of an NBA power forward.

Jutte was the head of a large, autocratic group of German perverts known as the Movement. Though they weren't at all racist, and allowed anyone who qualified and survived their rather rigorous initiation process to join, they were suitably German in that the whole organiztion was very authoritarian and incredibly sadistic. Leadership positions in the group were decided by elections, which of course were incredibly complex and manipulated by the leadership to cement their authority and leadership, and of course their perquisites. Once a leader established himself (or herself, in Jutte's position) at the head of the group, they could only be unseated by a two-thirds vote. Since the candidates were required to announce their challenges six months prior to the elections, and since the leader was allowed essentially unlimited authority to punish transgressions within the group's membership, election season became a combination of business and pleasure for a true sadist like Jutte. Her last challenger, Grafin Helga von Strasky, spent the six months up to the election in Jutte's dungeon, her nightly travails filmed and shown on the Movement's cable channel all over Germany. Because she suffered so well, she'd received perhaps 80% of the votes, but the Movement had a perverse attitude towards things like that, and among other things corruption of elections was tolerated, even encouraged. AS a result, Jutte bought the services of three of the electors who counted the membership's votes, and so she "won" the election and retained her position. Grafin Helga resided currently in the dungeon of one of the electors; the other two had bargained carefully with Jutte for more...personal services. She willingly, even eagerly, served in both of their dungeons, once a year, for a week. While she was an especially vicious sadist, she also enjoyed any other especially vicious sadist, as long as the person didn't hold back any of their animus when inflicting pain and humiliation on her. Since she showed her victims no mercy, she felt she should receive less than no mercy from those who occasionally returned the favor to her.

Patricia Smallwood, the Australian proprieter of the Boomerang Ranch, was of average height and thin, whipcord build. She was in her early 40s, and had come up with the idea to found such a resort about a dozen years ago. Convincing a group of investors to give her two million Australian dollars to start the place had been difficult, and she'd had to spend a lot of time bent over the back of a chair, or on her back with legs spread wide, to accomplish it, but she'd succeeded, and the place had thrived. She now had the main ranch, and two satellite brothels in Australian cities, all three places stocked with women willing to fulfill any fantasy or kink that was required by a customer. In keeping with the fact that the ranch was in the outback, outdoor bondage activities were often emphasized, or at least available, and Patricia had early on become an expert on rope bondage. Though she only rarely participated in the daily activities at the ranch, she now employed several women and one man who were experts in the art of rope bondage, with the emphasis on "predicament bondage", where the victim is tied so that she must choose torments, because she can't completely avoid them regardless of what she does.

Patricia had the largest of the breasts of the group of women, outside of Jutte von Stern, and they sat high on a narrow, strong body. Her face had an open, strong expression framed by light brown hair cut as short as a boy's, and her skin showed the effect of having been outdoors a great deal. She was dressed in a white silk shirt, long-sleeved, with the buttons up the front undone all the way to her navel, and a pair of the tightest black leather riding breeches she'd been able to fit into. These last were fitted into a pair of boots with stiletto heels that reached to her thighs, Patricia was a tough, independant entrepreneur, and she had a straightforward, open attitude towards sex, kinkiness, and her own body. She relished tying, humiliating, and torturing other women and all men, and when she was the subject of someone else's tortures she accepted what happened with a cheerfulness and aplomb that was at times astonishing to her dominant. She seemed to think that she deserved whatever happened to her, and at times almost enjoy a detached version of Schadenfreude, as if she was taking pleasure in the pain and humiliation of someone other than herself.

The last of the six ladies, Natasha Vronsky, was a very classical Russian beauty. She had alabaster-white skin, ruby-red lips that she accentuated with bright red lipstick, carefully arched eyebrows over eyes the color of deep, dark blue, and luminous, ebony hair falling in curls to her shoulders. Though she was a small woman, she wasn't as short or tiny as Carlotta. However short she was, her body was as impressive and voluptuous as any of the women in the room. A tiny waist joined a marvelous chest with breasts on the large side to a pair of wide, curvy hips. Her breasts were unusual in that they were almost cone-shaped, tipped with crimson-hued aureolae and unusually large nipples. Her hips were ample and perfect for sex, sitting, or spanking, and she was the oldest of the women, other than her friend Lady Veronica. Natasha had an interesting attitude towards these dinners with the other ladies: she dressed in a raincoat on her way to the event, but her attire at the dinner table was a simple birthday suit. She felt whether she was on the top or the bottom, being undressed saved time, so that she and her partner could get to what she called in either case the "fun part",AS

Natasha had a different upbringing from the other women. While she hadn't been born into a group of sadists, she'd discovered, as a teenager, that the Soviet Union in which she was a resident tortured its own citizens. Rather than being repulsed by this practice, she was intrigued by it. Her father had been a mid-level government functionary, and as a precocious 15-year old, she'd been at a dinner party with him when she was introduced to a KGB general who was in charge of a labor camp that included a torture facility. Though this wasn't overtly stated, she could tell by the way the rest of the crowd in the room leaned slightly away from the man in question that this was the person she wanted to know, and she immediately went from precocious 15-year-old lolita to sultry seductress in about six seconds. The old general was helpless before his assault, and though she was a virgin at the time, within half an hour he'd spurted one orgasm down her throat and another into her bowels, and she'd become his mistress. Over the next year she'd completely seduced him, became his understudy in torture at the camp, and like Carlotta had positioned herself to take over the institution when the general passed away. After the fall of the Soviet Union, he'd managed to convert the prison into a labor camp that hired out the inmates to local industries such as coal mines and forestry concerns. Within a year and a half he was approaching billionaire status; this led to rivalries, and he was assassinated outside a Moscow restaurant soon after. Natasha soon allied herself with several organized crime syndicates, kept most of the late general's fortune, and reinvented herself as Moscow's kinkiest and most high-priced call girl. Within a decade she owned six nightclubs, located in cities ranging from Odessa to St. Petersburg. The largest, in Moscow, had an enormous stage with stocks, a torture rack, cage, and other kinky furniture. Every night, beautiful women were tortured and humiliated on these for the entertainment of the crowd; sometimes they were even paying customers who wanted the humiliation of public exposure, combined with the exquisite pain of skilled and merciless torture.

As Octavia called the meeting to order, she looked around the room with approval. These women were the cream of the crop, in terms of international BDSM, and she had formed them for the purpose of enjoying each other's bodies, and each other's sadism. All of these women had at one time or other been a submissive, and all of them felt the need to return to their former roles on occasion. They were starting out on their sixth year of mayhem and enjoyment. Though their group meetings were occasionally rough, the ladies all accepted that a little blood loss and the occasional scar was what you had to expect when you were in the room with five of the world's other harshest sadists, with the possibility of winding up at the mercy of any of them, without limits, at any point. Since all of these ladies were extremely wealthy, the latest and most rarefied forms of plastic surgery were available to repair any marks or damage left by a torture session that went a bit too far...or not quite far enough, in the mind of one or two of the women. As a result, what most of us would consider "permanent" damage was to these ladies merely inconvenient, unless she chose to wear it as a badge of honor. Octavia liked that about all of them, and relished these, their monthly meetings, where they debauched themselves on a scale worthy of the Roman emperors of old.

Octavia, as President of the group, had the power to decide things, control the meetings, and order activities as she chose. Now that the evening's meal had passed, she moved things along to the activities she had planned for the evening.

"We're going to play strip poker tonight," she said with a smile to the other ladies. "I know this puts some of us at a disadvantage over the other girls, but we all know life isn't fair, don't we? I always relish starting out with an advantage over competitors, the more unfair it is, the better."

"I am already naked...does that mean I lose to start?" asked Natasha with a bright-eyed, almost eager expression on her face.

"No, not necessarily," ruled Octavia. "We won't wager. Instead, each hand the three ladies with the best hands will be safe, and everyone else will lose a piece of clothing, until naked. If one more hand is lost by a naked bitch, she becomes a slave for the evening. When three slaves are determined, the other three ladies will randomly discover which bitch will become her property for the next day. Since you haven't any clothes, Natasha dear, your ass almost certainly belongs to one of the rest of us...but you'll have to lose at least one game for that to occur."

She hesitated, looking around at the rest of the ladies arranged around the table. "Oh, and one more thing. I think we've gotten a bit playful the last few meetings. Tonight, I'd like to see some real cruelty. It would be good to have to get some blood out of the carpet, perhaps to send one of you to a plastic surgereon to have something rebuilt or repaired. I have some new implements in the other room, and of course the dungeon next door is fully equipped. For instance, I'd like to draw everyone's attention to a new set of straight razors I bought recently. They're over a hundred years old, ivory handled and perfectly balanced, and any winner is welcome to use them. I'm looking forward to seeing them in action and hoping I participate. Also there's a new collection of nylon canes, between three and four feet in length, and I've obtained a wonderful posture horse that has one of the sharpest top edges you've ever seen, and is long enough to seat two."

She looked around the room, and then concluded, "It's now time for us to cease being polite and ladylike with one another. Soon, each of us will be butchers, or meat."

She took the deck of cards, and dealt the hand out to each of the women. She, Carlotta, and Natasha won the first hand. Lady Veronica kicked off her sandals without protest, thought about it a second, and announced that she didn't think shoes should count; the other ladies agreed, and she removed her cocktail dress. Beneath it she was wearing only her corset and a thong, through which the lips of her vulva were visible. She sat back down, keeping her legs spread to give everyone a good view. Jutte in turn removed her boots, and then said that she thought her bra and chaps didn't really constitute clothing...so she insisted on removing both garments to satisfy her debt. She retained the pair of skin-tight hot pants, sitting down quietly with a smile on her face. Patricia removed her boots too, and then unbuttoned her blouse at the wrists, navel, and pulled it out of the waistband of her pants. She shrugged it off her shoulders, and cast it aside, exposing the pair of what would otherwise be considered an extremely large pair of breasts, were it not for the fact that Jutte's pair of flesh-colored, ruby-tipped bowling balls were right next to them.

Octavia passed the deck of cards to Carlotta, who dealt a second hand. Lady Veronica, Natasha, and Carlotta all won, so Octavia, Patricia, and Jutte lost. Octavia removed her heels, then thought about it a second and announced that she couldn't remove just a stocking; it wouldnt be appropriate. Two stockings would leave the garter straps hanging, which she considered untidy and unsightly, so she wound up removing the whole thing, in the interests of appearance and decorum. Patricia slid out of her riding breeches, revealing that she'd been naked underneath them. Her cunt was small and purse-shaped, with a landing strip above it that matched her hair in color, and a small, protruding red clit. When she sat back down, she kept her legs open as Lady Veronica had before; her cunt was on display for all to leer at. Jutte slowly stripped off her black leather hot pants, revealing a belt around her waist with a crupper drawn up from behind, ratcheted up through her cuntlips, so that her large, meaty cunt was bisected rather severely, and then folded back down so that none of the other women knew it had been there.

"I am wearing this tonight because I felt I needed some punishment. I was hopeful I would be a victim tonight, even if my oppressor is this ugly Russian cow to my left, so I wore this crupper. The outer edge of the part in my cunt has tiny teeth, which I assure you are painful, and there's a fifteen-inch butt plug in my ass. I don't consider any of this to be clothing, and I assume no one wants me to remove it?" at this she looked around the room, seeing five grinning heads bobbing in unified agreement, "so I will consider myself nude for purposes of winning or losing."

Carlotta passed the cards to Lady Veronica, who dealt another hand. Carlotta, Natasha, and Octavia won. Lady Veronica stood up, turned her back on the rest of the ladies, and slowly pushed her thong to her ankles, keeping her knees straight and bending over completely. Her pussy pushed out between her upper thighs in back. She then stood up, kicked off the thong, and sat back down, her legs far apart so that everyone could see the pussy she was fingering. She announced she was keeping the corset on, and not counting it as clothing, because it covered nothing, her tits being visible above it and her cunt below it.

Jutte looked around the room at the other ladies, and announced "I'm someone's victim tonight. Hopefully, whoever it is will know how to make me suffer, as surely as you'll suffer when you wind up under my whip. I propose I be tied into position, so that my tormentor won't have to waste time doing it before they begin to enjoy my screams."

Since Patricia had lost too, she was summarily excluded from the conversation, but the other four women conferred briefly, and got a length of rope from Octavia's closet, along with a knife to cut it into whatever lengths were necessary. Without even asking her, they put Patricia into a chair next to Jutte's, and each lady was tied tightly. Wrists were secured behind their backs, with the hands palm to palm, and then elbows were tied together. Neither of these women were young or that limber, so tying elbows together took considerable strain, and sweat could be seen to break out on Jutte's forehead. The ankles were then *tightly* tied to the rear legs of the chair, so that the legs were drawn far apart, and the women were almost doing the splits on their chairs. Patricia grunted twice during the tying, but Jutte bore it all with stoic acceptance, and truthfully you couldn't tell if Patricia's grunts were pain or satisfaction at how severe the bondage was.

Lady Veronica passed the deck of cards to Natasha, who dealt the next hand. Having never lost a hand, she now won the last one too, along with Lady Veronica and Carlotta. Now that there were only four players, only one of them would be the loser. Octavia removed her g-string...and then looked at the other women, and asked, "Does anyone think this should count? This is the skimpiest piece of clothing anyone's removed so far, by far. Jutte deliberately didn't count things that covered considerably more flesh. I think I should be declared the loser, and you three should draw for which of us you use and abuse."

The other ladies concurred, and the three winners cut for choice of victim. Carlotta cut highest, and since she really wanted to torture a large pair of tits, she chose Jutte. Natasha had ideas, wanted big tits too, and chose Patricia, leaving Lady Veronica with Octavia. However, that's not how things ended up. Natasha and Jutte hated one another, and they both found the animosity extremely erotic when they were in sessions together. Something similar, having to do with social class, existed between Lady Veronica and Patricia. Lady Veronica offered herself to Natasha for a weekend of toilet service, in return for Natasha trading Jutte to her for her good friend Octavia, and Natasha agreed...and then Natasha got the idea, and made a similar deal with Carlotta, trading Otavia to Carlotta in return for Patricia, and a weekend visit to Carlotta's dungeon.

The result was Jutte submitting to her hated enemy, the "Russian cow" Natasha, Patricia being the victim of the "fake British cunt" Lady Veronica, and Carlotta dominating Octavia, who everyone at least supposedly liked. Each pair of ladies seperated, so we'll follow them in turn.

***

Natasha looked down at Jutte with contempt and arrogance, enjoying the fact that she'd won the game and her arch-enemy. She lit a cigarette in a holder (Octavia didn't allow smoking in her apartment, except of course if you were going to use the cigarette for something fun!) and began burning Jutte's enormous breasts with the lit tip of the cigarette. Sweat immediately broke out on Jutte's forehead as she worked to contain her emotions; it was a sign of weakness to her, if she showed any response to the pain at all. At about six burns per breast, her mouth opened in a silent rictus of pain; at twelve she let out a deep, long moan.

Natasha looked at her, enjoying the suffering she was inflicting. "Are you willing to let me dominate you voluntarily, cuntmeat? I mean, you could come to my dungeon, in my country, and I could use you on stage. You'd be a great attraction."

Jutte spat at her in contempt, without actually saying anything. Natasha responded by smiling, and beginning to work on her inner thighs with the cigarette. After a couple of burns there, Jutte was back to moaning, and then a low keening whine which increased into a scream.

"Did I tell you that you could scream, meat?"

"No Your Highness, you didn't."

"I retain the right to assign you further punishment, don't I, meat? I can assign you up to a week of extra slavery, can't I?"

"I thought it was an extra month, Highness, and that's what I think we should abide by."

"An extra month it is, meat. What do you propose to avoid this?"

"Use the cigarette on my cunt, and then my other cunt, Highness. My pain, and my vanity, will cause me to suffer greatly. And if I don't keep quiet during the whole thing, assign the extra month's slavery to me anyway."

Natasha removed Jutte's crupper, and then began to inflict the burns on Jutte's cunt, using the tip of the cigarette to sizzle away what cunt juice there was, then burn the flesh beneath. She continued this for what must have been five minutes, with Jutte's face twisted into the most horrible rictus of pain imaginable. While she'd been burning the cunt like this, Jutte's clit had inexplicably been stimulated, and had protruded obscenely, red, large, and obviously aroused, from her cuntlips. When Natasha satisfied herself that she'd properly caused Jutte's cunt to suffer, she moved on and burned the clit several times. At the first contact, Jutte threw her head all the way back in agony, but she remained silent and didn't move in the slightest otherwise. After entertaining herself this way for several minutes, Natasha moved on to the "other cunt" that Jutte had mentioned.

Natasha stood next to Jutte, and fitted a hood over her head. It left her face and ears almost completely exposed, other than a metal bit that fitted in her mouth and trapped her tongue uncomfortably. Natasha strictly bound Jutte's head back so that she was looking up at the ceiling and couldn't move, and then began to use the tip of a new cigarette on her face, burning marks into her cheeks first, then her forehead, and finally her lips and the area around her mouth. She also played with burning one of her eyes, but that of course the plastic surgeons couldn't fix. While she had the right to do it (this was a no limits session, after all) she didn't quite want to be that cruel. She saw an expression of contempt in Jutte's eyes as she moved the cigarette away.

***

Lady Veronica immediately released Patricia from her bonds. She wanted all of her victim's body to be accessible to her, for the evening.

"I believe in total obedience to one's betters, don't you, whore?"

"Yes, Highness."

"I am better than you, aren't I? I mean, I was born into a noble, kinky family, while you're merely a lowborn whore, and an Australian to boot. Do you think you'll be able to remember this, and agree with me whenever we discuss it, from here on out?"

"No, Highness, I won't be able to remember...nor will I wish to."

Lady Veronica had the right to order Patricia to do anything during their session, and she could assign her punishments if she defied Lady Veronica, but she couldn't be ordered into any behavior after the session ended. If Lady Veronica was going to achieve that sort of superiority, she would need to break Patricia to the point that the Australian woman would agree to these terms without any rule requiring them. This was going to be hard.

Lady Veronica ordered Patricia to go to Octavia's rack of canes, and select the nastiest of the new nylon ones. she was informed it would be used on her hands, the soles of her feet, her tits, ass, thighs, and cunt, with of course severe consequences if she didn't select the right cane.

Patricia took down a cane, a long one, and carefully examined it. She held it in her hand, tested the weight, looked along the length of it to make sure it was true and straight, swished it through the air to test its pliability, and put it back on the rack. She then removed a second, slightly longer cane, and repeated the procedure, and then continued it with yet a third. The third cane was slightly shorter than the first two, but she chose it and returned to Lady Veronica, who greeted her with an arched eyebrow.

"Isn't the longest one the most dangerous?"

"Usually yes, Highness, but this one appears to be weighted at the end, somewhat, which should give the strokes more impact than the other, lighter implements."

Lady Veronica nodded, took the cane, and measured it herself. Seeming to agree with Patricia, she stood to one side with her offhand on her hip, looking at Patricia.

"Let's start with your hands, meat. Left one first, three strokes."

So Patricia received three strokes with the cane on each hand. She received the strokes with considerable composure, not even really flinching as the cane flashed down onto her hand. When Lady Veronica was done, she decided to move on to the soles of Patricia's feet. Six strokes were delivered to each foot, the cane whistling through the air and the impacts making a dry snicking sound as the cane struck the sole each time. Patricia, lying on her stomach and holding her ankles to give Lady Veronica a proper ankle, lifted her head and held her mouth open, but never quite let out the howl of agony that she obviously wanted to release. Then Lady Veronica had her stand up, and bend over and grab her ankles, and made her count out ten strokes in a calm, clear, properly modulated voice, thanking Lady Veronica for each stroke and asking politely for the next one. By this time, tears were streaking down Patricia's face, but still she hadn't uttered a sound.

Lady Veronica now had Patricia sit in the straight-backed wooden chair, backwards, and flip her tits over the top of the back. She was told to put her hands behind her head, and arch her back, so that the tits stuck out as far as possible and were of course supported for the cane, so that the impact would be more painful. Lady Veronica then delivered six strokes, measured, careful, with intervals. All of the strokes were struck expertly, because Lady Veronica was an expert with a cane, and she made sure that all the strokes were across both aureolae, and at least close to both nipples. As the cane whistled down, a new phenomenon was observed. Patricia began to pant like a thirsty puppy, without actually making much of any noise. She didn't scream, but her agony was obviously by this point exquisite.

Patricia next was made to lie on her back in what's sometimes referred to as the diaper position, with her legs gripped by her hands at the ankles, and lifted until her ankles are on either side of her face, looking up at the ceiling. Lady Veronica began to ply the cane across the backs of her thighs, the skin tautly stretched by her position. Patricia clearly wanted to howl in agony, but didn't, and after a bit Lady Veronica shifted angles and began caning *up* first Patricia's right thigh, and then her left. Next, she began to cane her cunt, harshly, the cane inflicting vertical cuts right between the lips. Since her clit was already prominent, it was hit pretty much every time. Patricia's tears splashed down to the table she was lying on, but she remained silent.

***

Carlotta led Octavia into the dungeon, and sat her down on a chair. She seated herself opposite, and looked Octavia in the eye.

"I have a dilemma. I want to watch you suffer tonight, but I was also hoping to suffer myself, greatly. Do you have any ideas as to how we can both submit, and suffer somehow?"

"Do you remember when you visited, a year ago, and we tortured those twins? The tall teenagers?"

"The blondes with the pigtails? Yes, of course I remember. They were exquisite. What about them?"

"A month after that, I discovered one of them had a desire to dominate, and I decided to train her to be a Domme. You know, sometimes a teenaged tyrant is absolutely exquisite for a submissive woman, they know how to inflict verbal humiliation like no other female on the planet, never mind males. They can also be extremely insensitive, and terribly cruel...all of which is ideal for our line of business."

"You've been training them as Dommes? That's *marvelous*! Hopefully they both still resent our shitting in their mouths. Have you submitted to them yourself, yet?"

"No, I was waiting for the right moment. I expect this is it. Would you like for me to summon them?"

"Yes, do so, and do so now. Oh, and make sure that it's clear that while you're to suffer, I'm to suffer even more. However, anything I agree to, extortion-wise, you're bound by it also. I want them to really work us over, I feel like I need to be purged."

Octavia went to the desk on the far side of the dungeon, and spoke into it, and in three minutes the twins appeared at the door. Brandi and Billie were sixteen, tall and lithe, with tennis player's bodies, long blonde hair in pigtails, long legs and arms, and the clear complexions of angels. They were wearing mock school uniforms, and obviously hadn't been informed what was going on.

"Do you girls know what's going on, tonight, up here in my penthouse?"

Brandi and Billie looked at one another, looked back at their Mistress a little confusedly and fearfully, and said "No, Mistress," in unison.

"I'm having a party for myself and some of my fellow Dommes, from around the world. Look at the monitors. You've both met Jutte, the Mistress from Germany, haven't you?"

Jutte had borrowed the two girls for a month a little more than a year ago, before Octavia had decided to turn them into Dommes. She'd been especially cruel with them, and now they were watching as another Domme they knew, Natasha, burned Jutte's breasts with a cigarette. They watched, fascinated, for a while, and then turned and watched the other monitor, seeing Lady Veronica cane Patricia's pussy very painfully.

After they'd absorbed what was going on, Octavia got their attention by pulling a pigtail on each head until it turned back towards her.

"Do you get the picture, girls?"

"Some of the Mistresses are submitting to the others, Mistress," said Brandi. Billie continued, "How did you decide which of you was to submit, and which was to dominate?"

"We played cards. I also lost, and though Carlotta here won, she wants to experience something different. You girls remember Carlotta? She and I played with you a year ago."

The two girls glanced at one another fearfully. "Yes, Mistress, we remember Carlotta. She shit in our mouths, and you did too. We were horrified, and certain we wouldn't get the taste out of our mouths for weeks."

"Well, Carlotta's requested something a little unusual. Rather than dominate me, she wants to suffer along side me, at the hands of you two girls. You've been training to be Dommes for about a year now, but you've not had control of a fully adult woman, with no restrictions yet, have you girls?"

The two Dommes-in-training glanced at one another, and the looked back at their Mistress, their faces wide with grins.

"No, Mistress, we haven't. What are your limits, and how long do we have?"

"You have one day to get your full revenge on us. I expect you'll shit in our mouths at least once, and that's fine, but please try to be creative with our torment too. Carlotta has expressed a willingness to be extorted into further slavery, and because of our agreement I must accept anything she agrees to under extortion, as if I agreed to it myself. Be careful to be severe, sadistic, and harsh, and whatever you do don't show either of us any mercy for the next twenty-four hours."

"Of course Mistress. We'll be careful, you can count on us."

"Alright now, girls...you're no longer my slaves. From this instance on, the two of you are Mistress to Carlotta and I, and to you, we're meat for you to use or abuse as you wish."

The two novice Dommes grinned at one another again, and went to work.

Brandi approached her Mistress Octavia, and made her kneel at her feet. She then insisted that her mistress kiss and lick her boots, grovelling like a common slut. Brandi knew from personal experience that this was the sort of public humiliation that Octavia indulged in with other girls, and she doubted that Octavia, in turn, performed the service for others. She was right. Octavia was mortified to find that Brandi had gone right to the humiliation angle, and even worse she had made sure to turn a video camera on first, so that the whole incident was being filmed and streamed right onto Octavia's personal website. This was bad, but what made Octavia's blood run cold was the fact that Brandi had done two things: rig it so that the video stream was visible free to anyone who opened the page, and sent a circular email, and a twitter too, telling everyone what was going to happen over the next day. Right now, most of Octavia's fan club was watching her be humiliated and degraded like she hadn't been in two decades.

Meanwhile, Billie ripped Carlotta's extremely expensive silk dress right off of her back. She then made the older woman piss onto the remains of the dress, and used the piss-soaked rags as a gag which she tightly tied into the woman's mouth. She then began to abuse Carlotta's body and character, pinching a finger of loose skin around her belly and referring to it as a "spare tire", referencing how high Carlotta's breasts sat on her chest and comparing them with her own, concluding that Carlotta's "dugs are practically down around her knees", and referring to her as the "cheap whore". She asked Carlotta whether she'd be willing to pay for this sort of treatment later, after the session was over, and to her surprise received a positive head nod. Billie ran her finger through Carlotta's cuntlips, and announced to Brandi "This old twat's horny already. I don't believe it, I've barely touched her."

Brandi looked at Billie's handiwork with Carlotta, and said to her sister, "Let's get them on the double horse. I want to play with their tits, but I want something to distract them so that they're in constant pain."

Billie rolled her eyes when she approached Carlotta again. "God save me from smelly old cunts! This bitch is so horny she smells like a fish..." With that, she led Carlotta to the horse, and made her straddle it. As she did, she said to Carlotta, "I'm not going to take this gag out of your mouth for at least few minutes. I don't want you agreeing to too much too early, so that we don't get to have our fun with you first. You're really going to suffer before this is through." Billie gestured for Carlotta to mount the horse, and Carlotta willingly lifted a leg and got herself astride the torture horse.

This was an unusual horse. It had three sets of legs rather than the usual two, and the crosspiece was especially sharp and therefore cruel. Billie had already noted that Carlotta had rings through her labia, and she thought these would be useful for what she had in mind. She took the older woman's hair, and braided it into a single pigtail like the ones she wore. She braided into the pigtail a strand of rope she tied to a suspension line that was in turn attached to a hook in the ceiling. Now Carlotta couldn't lower her body at all. Billie then tied Carlotta's hands behind her back, and pushed the hands upwards, all the time pulling on her elbows. After about fifteen minutes, She'd managed to get Carlotta's hands up between her shoulderblades behind her back, her Asian complexion slightly red from the exertion. Billie attached a very large posture collar around Carlotta's throat, then tied her hands to it behind and below the nape of her neck. Next she looped thin lines through the rings through Carlotta's pussylips, and tied them to cuffs secured around Carlotta's ankles. Carlotta's legs were bent severely, so that she couldn't reach the ground or anything close to it, and since the line from the ceiling in her hair was rather loose she was essentially sitting on her cunt, on the edge of the punishment horse. Billie finished the whole thing off by tying a rope around Carlotta's upper thighs, so that she couldn't get off the horse to the side.

Meanwhile, Brandi was abusing Octavia. Octavia had taught the young woman that older women often need to be abused in the worst ways conceivable. This includes not just verbal abuse and slaps, but fists and other things of that nature, all inflicted with a mind to cause pain and humiliation, and all without any care for the impact they had on the victim. Brandi started by punching Octavia in the face repeatedly, until she'd broken Octavia's nose and split her lip, then began punching Octavia's tits hard, flattening them, too. She kicked Octavia in the stomach several times, and thought she saw a glimpse of an approving glance from her Mistress as she did this. Then Brandi and Billie both raised Octavia up onto her feet, led her to the horse, and seated her opposite Carlotta, who was clearly suffering horribly from her bondage and suspension. While Billie went to work repeating the procedure she'd inflicted on Carlotta, on Octavia, Brandi began beating Carlotta. Since she was suspended, Brandi couldn't kick her in the stomach very easily, though she did try a roundhouse kick a couple of times. She did, however, punch her unmercifully in the face, and flatten her tits repeatedly.

Billie now removed Carlotta's gag, and threw the ripped rags that were once the woman's expensive designer dress into the trash. She looked at Carlotta wickedly, and asked, "You have anything to say to us now, meat?"

Carlotta smiled at Billie, and replied, "Yes, Mistress. I'm disappointed you haven't shit in my mouth yet, but other than that you're doing tremendously. Would you be willing to visit my brothel in China, and provide such a service to me on a regular basis? I'd be willing to pay. I haven't been abused like this in years...it's truly wonderful."

"How much would you pay to be abused like this, meat?"

"I think a quarter of a million dollars per session would be reasonable, don't you?"

"No, I think for this sort of service I should receive half a million dollars."

"For half a million dollars, the pain and humiliation have to be considerably more harsh than what I'm experiencing now. This is child's play, inflicted by children."

Billie silently turned and picked up a box of large gauge, long needles, and approached the two women. Billie began to run these through Carlotta's breasts; Brandi did the same thing with Octavia's tender flesh. In no time, the blood was flowing, and dripping onto the dungeon floor. The two women at first moaned, then, as their nipples were pierced, began to scream. Billie looked at Brandi, and they then conferred with their Mistress.

"Meat, are we allowed to assign you punishments? We mean, when we feel you haven't performed up to the proper standards, can we assign you to further slavery?"

"Of course, Mistresses. This is a full-blown session, you can do as you please. Remember, we have no limits, none whatsoever. If you choose, you can mutilate our faces, remove fingers, toes, nipples, even our clits, if you wish. It's up to you what to do."

"Well we think that screaming because we put a few tiny needles through your tits is sort of childish, so we'd like to assign you an extra punishment. Since you're old meat, we won't accept the typical punishment period of a month; instead, we're going to insist on six months. You'll have to pay it off in installments, since you won't be able to be free and unattached that long, but you'll definitely pay it all off."

Octavia felt her skin crawl a bit while she listened to this, and at the same time there was a flutter of pride in her chest. This was going to be very difficult to get past, because these two girls were very cruel, but it also was extremely erotic, watching them grow as exploitative sadists, right before her very eyes. As she watched, Brandi took Carlotta down from the bondage on the horse, while Billie got out a human toilet seat and set it up so that Carlotta could be fitted into it, her face looking up into the toilet seat itself, her neck locked into place by the watertight seal, so that none of the piss or shit would escape the toilet. Having completely released her, the two girls repeated the procedure with her. Billie then sat on the toilet seat containing Carlotta's face, while Brandi sat above Octavia, and both girls began to first piss, and then shit. The piss was copious (while the girls were on the toilets, they were drinking as much water as they could, in an attempt to generate more) and the shits were especially large and smelly. Soon, the level of piss and shit was such that both Carlotta and Octavia were in danger of drowning, so both began to drink piss, and chew and eat the shit. Billie watches Carlotta's pussy pulse and spasm as she shat on the woman's face, and she yelled down at her:

"The price just went up, meat. To shit on your face, alone, is going to cost you a quarter of a million dollars, per instance. The rest of this abuse is going to be another half million."

"Agreed, Mistress, provided you continue to abuse me like this. You're welcome to shit on my face any time."

(To be continued)