How the prison event turned out – truth or fiction….
He couldn’t believe it was finally here. He truly felt that months of planning had paid off as the wheels of his plane made that familiar sound as they touched down. He had never been to Berlin before, and he looked out the window at the sun shining down, for some reason, he always saw Berlin as cloudy and overcast, but the brightness outside was the exact opposite. He instinctively reached in his pocket and took his phone out of airplane mode and messages filled the screen one after another. As the alerts stacked on top each other, his eyes tried hard to read them all, but he had no success, finally the last ding “Welcome to Hell.”
He was impressed by Mistress’ thoroughness, and commitment to the role. He had originally signed up for her prison camp, but three months out, realized the dates just couldn’t work – if he had gone the scheduled days, he would miss the work payout for which he’d been working the past four years – $3M as his company was acquired by a large conglomerate. He had thought for sure when he told her about the situation, her response would be to simply point to the no-refund policy on the contract he’d signed to attend, but that was not the case. It was instead, a counteroffer, completely catering to his schedule. She even called to explain that the cost of for her to procure the facility for a week was equal to the payment from one guest, and if he wanted to still have the prison experience, he would just need to pay that, in addition to what he’d already put forth.
With the knowledge that his newly found wealth was guaranteed, and he had already planned to relax for at least six months after the acquisition, he agreed to the deal, but asked if two full weeks were a possibility if he doubled both payments. Mistress agreed to the offer verbally, and explained that it would be easier if he dealt with the facility directly in order to make payment for the two-week rental. He Venmoed her the agreed-upon amount of $1,700USD for her fee, and then dialed the number for the facility. This transaction was much more difficult, but then a familiar voice was on the other end of the phone. “Just let me have your banking details dear, for the wire transfer, you know,” it was Mistress April on the other end of the phone. He didn’t even hesitate in providing what she requested as he’d dealt with European companies for years, and knew every financial transaction for business was done this way. Within just a few minutes, he received confirmation that $3,400USD had been debited from his account by a company called M&A Rentals and Events based in Berlin, Germany.
The next few months were filled with very little contact until just over two weeks ago. He received a Docusign alert on his phones. The subject of Full Rights Waiver and Transfer of Ownership Statement really fit it well with the role play. He even loved how the message took on a very serious tone, ‘Slave, Once you sign the attached electronic forms, there is absolutely no way out. You will be fully owned property of The Mistress April with absolutely no rights or freedoms outside those granted at her discretion. Your period of enslavement begins on the date listed on the document and ends when/if I decide it will terminate. Once signed, this document is legally binding, and failure to comply will result in forfeiture on any documented wealth acquired in the calendar year commencing January 1, 2022. Failure to sign the agreement will result in loss of monies previously transacted, but carries no future penalties outside of being shunned by Mistress April permanently.”
He clicked the link, looked at the dates of May 1, 2022 as the start and TBD as the end date, and scrolled down to sign. With just four clicks, it was done. In his mind, he had just signed up for the ultimate fantasy getaway. The phone rang within seconds, “hello slave, that is all you are known as from here on out. Thanks for returning our legal agreement so quickly – I absolutely hate when selfish slaves try to get attorneys involved,” he was too intoxicated by the situation to focus on anything except the sound of her voice. “Listen to me good slave. Over the next few weeks, I will be sending you messages with instructions. After today, you will not hear my voice again until we meet in person. The messages you receive will be expected to be followed implicitly – mistakes will not be tolerated. Your first message will arrive in the next 10 minutes, and I expect it to be completed immediately. Good bye slave.”
He never even got to say a word. He only refreshed his browser once before there was a message in his inbox. It was from someone named Ms. Kitten, and she immediately let him know that she would be in charge from that point forward. ‘Slave, My name is Ms Kitten, and you will never refer to me as anything else – I would actually prefer it if you don’t speak to me at all. I am looking up some services in your area for things you need done before you get here – just some basic maintenance. I am also going to set your diet starting now. You will get used to eating exactly what you’ll eat here – I will send that in another message. I would like you to dispose of all of your underwear immediately, these will no longer be a part of your wardrobe. If you don’t regularly remove all of your body hair, you do now. Send me a picture of proof when it is done. I will make you a waxing appointment near your house this week. Do not worry about shopping for your trip. You will only bring the basics – pills, toothbrush, a pillow, a blanket; other than that, just wear what we tell you that day. Lastly, we ask that you set any recurring bills to autopay with a secondary contact number of 555-5555. This is to make sure that nothing gets missed in your time away. I will message you tomorrow with a daily list of tasks you will be expected to execute each day. Reply with the word ‘yes’ to verify you understand.’
He replied immediately, and it all began. Over the next few weeks, he executed many activities that led to this moment. As he unlocked his phone, he felt his chest tighten – he opened the messages. ‘Parking Lot D6 – 3rd Floor – Space 3468 – White Mercedes Metris – License plate MU-9876432 – The back door is unlocked – take off your clothes, and put them in the container you’ll find there – knock on the window and pass it through – sit naked on the cold floor and wait – you may want to try and get some sleep, you’ll need it – Welcome to Hell.”
He looked them over again. Each of them was an individual message from the same number Ms Kitten had used when they spoke previously. He deboarded the plane and made his way through customs, it was very quick to get through. With just a carry on bag, there was nothing to wait for at the gate, so he quickly found parking lot D6 and took the elevator to the third floor. The lot was empty, but he saw a plain white van all alone. As he approached, he noticed the license plate was a match, and the back door was unlocked. He couldn’t believe it, but without thinking, he climbed inside and started to strip. He opened the bin and filled it with his clothes, and wallet, and bag, and passport – his whole life was now inside this storage container. He stood up and walked to the front of the van, he knocked on the window. As he did, the rear door opened – a man and a woman came inside. The man picked up the container, and the woman approached him. “Stand slave. I’m Ms Kitten. Give me your wrists,” she cuffed his hands in front of him. She them bent down and cuffed his ankles – attaching everything together with a large, heavy chain. “Put. That. Away!” She kneed him three times in the balls, each progressively harder. “You will learn to control this thing, or you’ll fucking lose it.” She slapped his hard cock downward and knocked him to his knees. She followed him to the ground, and in one motion stabbed him in the neck with a syringe. He hit the cold metal floor like a ton of bricks.
The very next he remembered was being on the floor in a large room, it was very dark, and as his eyes adjusted a bit more, he realized it was dark outside too. He tried to stand to walk over to the closest window, but realized the heavy chains that were restraining him, were also attached to the concrete floor. He could hear some faint sounds from nearby. It sounded like a dinner party. He heard some chatter and it sounded like it was getting closely. When the door opened, and the light came in, he instantly recognized his surroundings from the videos he’d seen, and he recognized the preheated Women in the room as well. There was no conversation, it was all very businesslike. Ms. Kitten walked over and unlocked the chain from the floor, “over there,” she said as she pushed him towards the wall with the markings for height. “Face me,” she said as she snapped a picture with her phone. “Turn to your right and stay there,” she said firmly. He heard her phone click and then footsteps behind him – everything went completely black. “Forty-five,” the Woman clearly in charge said in a matter-of-fact way. “Let’s not send him there with an empty bucket ladies,” she said very close to his hooded head – she intended for him to hear it.
The group of Women took turns relieving themselves in the bucket. They then helped to get their prisoner dressed in what seemed like a very official, orange prison jumpsuit. They handed him the bucket, and he felt a tug on the chain and he blindly followed his leader. It was a long walk, and she made sure it was not an easy one. Along the way, he fell several time, both up and down small flights of stairs. When they reached the cell, they stopped. She opened the heavy door, from there, she led him to a mattress and pushed him down – it was just high enough to clip his ankles and trip him up. She came closer and pushed him on his back. She unzipped the mouth part of the hood, and rubbed her still piss covered cunt on his face. His mouth filled with her taste, and his cock instantly grew hard. She raised herself off his face, reached down and zipped the hood and then lowered herself right on to his hard cock. She fucked his cock hard as he’d ever been fucked before. With each push, he felt her black strap on bounce off his legs. He was getting close to the edge and she knew it, she stopped, squeezed his balls a bit and started again. She repeated that five more times before abruptly standing up and walking away. She picked up the bucket and threw what seemed like a half gallon of piss on him and the mattress. It soaked his clothes and the mattress completely. She took the bucket, threw it at him and bounced it off his face. “Touch yourself, and you’ll find out what real punishment is, slave,” she slapped his face and walked away, slamming the heavy door behind her.
He hadn’t known how long it had been since he’d been isolated as he had simply accepted the daily routine as his new life. He had started out thinking that his feeding routine was three times per day, but then thought maybe it was only twice, but eventually his mind stopped trying to figure it out. He had learned that when he heard the tapping on the metal slot, followed by her voice, he had about 30 seconds to get there before she tossed the metal tray onto the floor. When he made it on time, she would hand the tray through the slot and reach through to unzip the mouth on the thick leather over his head. She knew that today marked the fifth day of this routine of twice per day visits to his cell, and knew at this point, he would be thoroughly broken – nothing breaks a new prisoner faster than complete isolation. After handing him the tray of two pieces of, the prison staple, nutraloaf and a glass of water, he lowered his face to the slot and she unzipped the hood – he had executed the routine perfectly.
As he returned to his bed, he heard a key turn and the door open; it had felt like years since he’d heard that sound. “Tray on the floor, stand up slave,” he knew by the voice he was in the presence of the person who had fed him everyday. She unfastened the collar keeping the leather hood snug, and gave it one pull from the top. As the light blinded him for a moment, there were a few things he’d never forget. The first thing was the sight of his captor, it was Mistress April, the same Mistress April he had admired from a world away for such a long time. She was wearing a short, black leather dress that fit her just perfectly, giving the perfect amount of coverage to be a complete tease to anyone who would look at her in it. It was everything he had imagined, and would do anything for her. The second thing was the terrible smell of his surroundings and himself, he had not showered or changed since that first day when a bucket of piss was dumped on him and his bed, the hood must have kept the full impact at bay for the time since he’d been there. “This smell is disgusting slave,” she purposefully kicked over the bucket he’d learned to use as a toilet on her way out the door – leaving it wide open behind her. She returned a minute later holding what appeared to be a mini fire hose. Without saying a word, she opened the hose fully – the water pressure was so hard, it felt like it was cutting through his clothing as it soaked in. All of a sudden, it stopped. “Strip – NOW,” she said, leaving no room for interpretation on what was expected. His soaked clothes laid in a ball on the floor as she turned the hose back on, immediately at full strength on his naked body. She hosed him thoroughly before commanding him to put his clothes back on. And while those first two memories will live forever, it was what happened next that changed him forever.
She left the room again and returned with two chairs, she set them facing each other in the meddle of the room. It was at that point he noticed her knee-height, Hunter-brand rubber boots letting him know that everything she did was planned out meticulously. She knew not to wear leather boots when she came to his cell as she would be in waste water as she sat near the drain in the center of the cell. “Slave, come sit,” she pointed to the chair across from her. “Come quick while I am still okay with you sitting in chairs, I am honestly not sure how long that will last.” He came and sat down, the metal folding chair was extremely cold against his soaked jumpsuit- it actually seemed to make it colder. “Slave, you signed something without fully reading it, so I want to make sure you fully understand your current, and future situation,” he sat stoic as she spoke directly at him. “This agreement is five pages long, but you signed it only four seconds after opening it – that means you completely agreed, and only read a maximum of twenty words or so. I want you to thoroughly comprehend what is going on.” She paused only for effect, never once asking for input from her captive. “Here are the highlights, ‘I am fully aware in signing this, legally binding document, that upon execution, I, and all of my worldly belongings including, but not limited to, accumulated wealth, real estate, physical possessions, etc become the property of the divine Mistress April of South Africa, and by entering into this agreement of sound mind, I hereby turnover all power of attorney for myself and my estate to the divine Mistress April of South Africa,’” she continued to read. ‘At the completion of the fourteen days at the prison facility in Berlin, Germany that the divine Mistress April of South Africa whether to transfer said slave to South Africa, put it up for auction, or have it remain a prisoner at the Berlin facility thus transferring ownership to the prison’s owners. With these being the only three options, thus therefore, upon execution of this agreement anything that existed previously is effectively terminated.’ “Those are the highlights slave, there are some other gems in there, failure to comply is punishable up to including death by execution in a way of my choosing blah, blah, blah,” she intentionally perished over the last part for effect as she saw his head was spinning.
“The last thing I should mention is that your also my newest star,” she held up her phone to show him. “Your entire life is now live-streamed on my website, and traffic is up nearly 300% – people seem to really enjoy following your situation.” Just then, the phone rang. “Ahh, talk about perfect timing,” she held up the phone to show him again and he saw the name ‘Kitten’ and remembered the stunning Woman from his intake and the van at the airport. “I’m here,” she said as soon as the FaceTime sound ended. “He’s very organized, and it’s a pretty nice home. It probably makes sense to keep as a vacation property right outside New York City.” When she turned the phone towards him, he could clearly tell that Kitten was at his Jersey City brownstone- rummaging through everything. “I think I have everything we need now, cashiers check was used to pay the balance on the mortgage, the escrow account is set to handle utilities for up to 24 months, and surprisingly, not one person has called or texted his phone – it’s like he disappeared and no one even cares.”
“Do hear that slave,” Mistress April taunted him. “Kitten was able to make all arrangements on your behalf, and no one even gives a shit – you are quite pathetic.” As she laughed at him, another Woman approached in the doorway. “We’re all set for the procedure,” the Woman said matter of factly. “Thank you Mistress Horn,” replied Mistress April. “Oh eat up boy, you’ll need your strength for surgery.” She stood up from her chair and reached for his tray before stopping. She had both an urge and an idea at the same time. She squatted over the cut loaf of mixed ingredients and let her bladder go. She pissed all over the tray, with the majority quickly soaking into the already dense concoction on the plate. She finished, tugged in her dress with two hands and stood up. She picked up the piss-covered tray and dropped it on his lap, splashing piss everywhere. “I added a little salt slave, eat up,” she said with a grin. “I promise you’ll want all the strength possible for what’s up next.”
He managed to choke down nearly the entire loaf without so much as a gag – there was something about the taste of the Mistress that actually made it more palatable. As he thought he had finished, he sat back a bit and pushed away the tray. “What are you doing slave,” the question sounded so polite with Mistress’ accent. “You are not done with that yet.” She walked outside the door and returned with a clear funnel, aggressively shoving it in his mouth and pushing his head backwards. She picked up the silver, metal tray and forced everything on it to a corner before dripping it into the funnel. It filled it up about halfway and he instinctively swallowed. “Good slave,” she mockingly praised him, “now keep it in and lie back for a moment.” He followed her orders and before he knew it, he was staring under Mistress’s black leather dress at the metal rings piercing her clit. As his cock started to once again betray him by swelling at the details of his situation, he saw a stream of piss headed his way, instantaneously starting to hit the back of his throat at the same time. She finished, pulling the funnel from his lips. She stood up and said, “I understand the importance of staying hydrated, and like to make sure that trickles down to all my slaves. No on your feet.” She tugged at the chains that were still attached. “Mistress Horn,” she called out. “Come take this one to the room we’ve prepared. We’re ready for his first procedure.”
As the other Mistress entered the cell that had been home for the past few days, she whispered in Mistress April’s ear. A bit of shock and then a huge smile filled her face. “Slave, hiding a key to your wall safe among your kinky toys probably kept the vanillas at bay, right,” as the words came out of her mouth, his face lost some color. “Oh slave, don’t worry, thirty-six thousand in US dollars is something that makes me very happy. It also takes away one of the biggest pain points of moving a new slave from here back to my home – having to board a commercial airline. We’ll be flying private.” The rest of the color drained from his face. Taking a slave back to her home? He was confused. “Mistress,” he continued without stopping. “What do you mean…” She came over and slapped him hard across the face, and as he recovered, she slapped him again from the other direction. “You ask for permission to speak,” she screamed at him in an angry voice. “That is just basic fucking courtesy when you are in my presence. Now shut the fuck up, and don’t let it happen again!” She stormed from the room without saying a word to anyone. Mistress Horn came over and took hold of his chain and led him to the door. “You we’re doing pretty well boy,” she said in a way that he knew a ‘but’ was coming. “But then you went ahead and pissed her off right before this – that will not help you out.” With that she tugged on his chain and led him away.
As they walked through the prison, he saw that there were actually other prisoners. Some who looked to be in very similar circumstances to him. “You’ll notice all of the slaves that have paid to be here – seven this week,” she said proudly as they walked. “Only one signed the full ownership contract, no questions asked – you slave.” He paused a second and was jerked forward by Mistress’s grip. She reached for the door handle. He read the sign by the door that said Krankenstation – he had no idea what that translated to in English, but it didn’t sound great. She opened the door and pulled back a sheet of heavy plastic that had been hung from the ceiling. The room looked as though it was decorated by Dexter Morgan. In the middle, there was a gynecological exam table, two rolling chairs and a stainless table with tools laid out on top of it. “Please prepare him Mistress,” he heard a familiar voice over what sounded like a PA system. She took him over to the table and led him onto it. She removed his cuffs, and shackles laying them in a pile next to the table. She then locked his ankles in the stirrups and his wrists to the table with some medical grade straps that had been ominously attached. This room was not thrown together, it was very well thought out. Mistress Horn walked away. The plastic sheets parted and Mistress April walked through.
She was dressed to perform a procedure, no longer in her black dress, but now a medical-looking white outfit. Also dawning a surgical mask and gloves. As she approached, it was the first time he looked at the tools on the table. From left to right, there was a speculum, a tube of lube, some needles, a steel chastity device and an elastrator, complete with an open jar of green bands marked “Swavet Castration Rings.” This was the first time he was truly filled with fear. The scanning of that table probably took five seconds, but he felt like he’d been staring for hours. Putting all of the pieces together, the realization was now clear, this not a two week play getaway, this was something else. “Slave, I know that look all too well, you have come to the realization that the next week is simply the introduction to the rest of your life. When we get home, we will rename you and brand you with your given slave name; your training will intensify and we will determine your best purpose as part of my stable. She felt her phone vibrating in the pocket of her white jacket seemingly nonstop – she got an alert each time a new paid subscriber joined the live feed. She quickly realized as his situation became more precarious, the more people wanted to watch. She reached in her front pocket and took out a stainless steel dental gag, putting it in place and using the mechanism to ratchet it open. She knew she had it in a place where it would be effective and then clicked the ratcheting device two more times. The pain it was causing was noticeable from anyone watching, but there was noting he could do about it. “Let’s begin, shall we,” she only made eye contact with him as she reached for the tray and picked up the speculum.
She squeezed some lube into her other hand and stroked the closed device like it was a throbbing cock. This was all for effect of course, she knew by this point that she had him like a puppet on a string, and every action she took caused a reaction. When she wheeled around, she noticed he had been placed on the table perfectly, his asshole was in the perfect position to accept the metal device. She touched it to the rim of his asshole and he recoiled a bit because it was o cold. “Stay still slave,” she commanded. “This is going in either way, and nothing will change it.” He relaxed and accepted the device. She smiled as it slid in easily and she started to turn the handle. The pain was excruciating- it felt as if his asshole was being torn apart, but he knew there was nothing he could do. “We’ll get back to that,” she said as she reached to the tray and took some needles in her hand. “These serve no purpose except to cause you great pain, and because I think they look pretty – actually, I guess they have two purposes then.”
After putting three needles in each nipple, she reached for the tool that scared him most – the elastrator. As she took one of the green bands from the jar, she spoke very deliberately, “this will wrap around you so tight, it will cut off all of the blood flow completely, and after a few extremely painful weeks of attaching these bands, do you know what happens slave?” She reached down, cupped his balls and pulled them away from his body. “They just fall right off, and you’re a service-focused eunuch.” She let it snap shut, grazing his balls with the metal and sending the band flying off and landing near the needles just used to pierce his nipples. “Oh but slave, I’ve yet to determine this is the best route for you. Maybe after I get all of your wealth into my offshore accounts I will determine that cock might please me – I doubt that one. Or more likely, I will train you to suck cock for money, and you’ll be forced to earn your keep; come to think of it, a eunuch can do that too,” she picked up the band and stretched it back on the elastrator. “But there is still a chance you’ll fetch me a tidy profit at auction once completely broken, and having a deformity can hurt that price.”
She set down the menacing tool, and mockingly wiped the sweat away from his brow. “Well, we still can’t have you walking around with a pre-cum dripping hard on all day, everyday, can we,” she quipped. “It’s time to enforce some real chastity. These devices are nice,” she spoke softly and directly to her patient. “But when you add one of these, they are exquisite.” She held up a thick Prince Albert style ring. “My other slaves were too old for me to do this procedure, I was afraid the shock and pain might cause a heart attack,” she smiled at her own words. “But I had them check your vitals, even if you have a heart attack, chances are you’ll recover.” She turned her back, walked away and came back with a large, intimidating needle and a bottle of some type of antiseptic. She set them both on the tray, pulled a syringe from her front pocket and pulled back the plunger. “Hold on one second, I need to check something,” she set down the syringe too and walked away, returning a few seconds later with a clipboard. “Pain tolerance 10, ‘I live for extreme pain,’ seems like you’re someone who wouldn’t want me to waste a local anesthetic on you, you’d rather feel something. She wiped the antiseptic all over the tip of his cock. She then opened the ring and somehow connected it to the end of the long needle – she did this inched away from his eyes knowing what the fear and anticipation was doing to him. In one quick motion, she took hold of his cock and stabbed the needle through. He watched intently, felt a stabbing pain and then a warm wave of pain over his entire body, and then everything went black again – he passed out.
He blinked his eyes several times as he came to, adjusting his perception as best he could. His vision was partially blocked by a strap that trenches over both eyes, not blinding him, but making it difficult to see clearly. His thoughts were interrupted by a throbbing pain in his groin, definitely not the fire from before, but something felt different. He attempted to lift his head to see what the pain was caused by, but he was unable to lift it even an inch. He tried to lift his hands, but they were tightly attached to the bed too. Even his fingers felt like they were trapped inside something, but he had no way to know because he could not move.
“I am happy you’re awake slave, this passing out was really unplanned for, and something that we’re going to have to work on if you’re going to make it,” Mistress April spoke as she stood over him. “Now I saw you struggling to see what is causing that throbbing down there, so I will show you.” She angled a mirror to show him the cold steel attached to his manhood. He was both scared and impressed, it was one of the most extreme looking chastity devices he’d ever seen and it was controlling him. “I am going to show you exactly how it works slave,” she climbed onto the table, positioned herself straddling his head and lifted her black leather dress she’d changed back into – she lowered herself onto the gag attached to his head harness and grinded against it. The juices from her perfect pussy oozed onto the leather harness and dripped on to his face. Suddenly, he was completely unable to focus on his dream scenario taking place an inch from his nose due to the extreme pain he felt pulsing from his cock. As she noticed his change, she pulled back and sat on his chest. “That throbbing you feel is from the new Prince Albert piercing at the head of your cock. The fire is the pain caused by hundreds of tiny needles that line the metal tube that imprisons your shaft, and that dull ache is from the build up in your balls, and that is the one you’ll have the least power over controlling,” she seemed very pleased with the news she just delivered. “The fact that I control how much pain you are in, how long it will last and I am the only one who can give you any type of release should show you exactly how much power I have over you. And while the display is in that tiny area where that cold steel device is, what I truly control is much, much greater slave.”
She walked away for a moment before returning, “I was going to ask for help in moving you to the next phase of your transformation, but I’ve decided, I am going to do it myself.” She moved around him loosening the straps and I clipping the cuffs. She eventually reached his head and unbuckled the medical harness that had been attached. He was left completely naked except the stainless steel device which was for all intents and purposes part of his body, and a locked leather mitt on each of his hands. His mind did not feel right, he was scared, curious, aroused and excited all at the same time; and to say his brain was sending his body mixed signals would be the understatement of the year. “Knees slave, right here,” she pointed at the ground directly at her feet. “Show some respect slave.” She didn’t have to point to her shoes for him to know what he was expected to do, but she did anyway. He immediately put his face to her slip on leather sneaker which matched her dress perfectly. He fumbled around a little as his hands were rendered useless by the thick leather mitts, but managed to keep his balance while using his mouth and tongue to show respect.
“It is said that sleep can be the great equalizer slave, a sort of hard reset for the body and mind,” she pulled her foot away and walked around her prey. “That is why for the next part of your training, I am withholding sleep.” She signaled him to follow her on his hands and knees, and he instantly understood what she wanted – the training was working so far. He followed her intently, focused on the line of leather from her dressed and the way it laid perfectly across her partially exposed ass at times. Suddenly, he couldn’t move, he screamed out and doubled over from the sharp rush of pain. She stopped and turned, “self control slave, you lack it, this is not about you and your pleasure – it never was. And much more importantly, it never will be again. I have slaves to which I allow release, I have slaves which I milk so that that they can simply survive, and I also have purposeful gimps who never are offered release. It will be up to you…” She stopped herself before continuing, “who am I kidding, nothing is up to you, everything is up to me from here on out, and since it seems like this little scene was caused by you making eye contact with my asshole, I am going to let the two of you get up close and very personal.”
She pulled him into the nearest cell. “You’ve watched my videos, you fucking knew this would be part of your duty slave,” she roughly pushed him to the concrete floor. “I don’t normally do this in the prison, but I’m making an exception here.” She put her foot right in his chest as she spoke, “Usually slaves are groomed to be a toilet, but I feel you were born to serve in every way, so I’m ready to start using you now.” His fear was overtaken my the pain of his swelling cock ignoring the pins and trying to bust through its steel containment. She literally laughed out loud, “your sex has betrayed you again slave.” She continued, “your turned on by the thought of eating my shit, but this is not a surprise to me.” She took out the clipboard again and opened it up, “your past messages on my clips, did you think I didn’t know this was you?” She had clearly done her due diligence. “I would never accept you without thoroughly vetting you slave. I know you better than you know yourself,” she was clearly waiting for this diatribe. “I have exchanges that you’ve had online with a Mistress the day after she made you sit outside her bathroom while she took a shit on your first date and then summoned you in to clean up. You went on and on the next day how you were ready for more, and then she was transferred for work – how did that make you feel toilet,” she did not want a response and she flipped to her next sheet. “‘Mistress April, I loved the movie clips in your caviar section, I have been a subscriber for 12 months now and dream of serving you in person. If there was ever an opportunity, I would do anything and give up everything just for a chance. well, this seems like that chance now, doesn’t it slave?” She continued to let him know just how much she knew, “slave, I never look at a username or an email address, this can be changed. I track IP addresses, and once that matching IP address set up an account using a password they use for everything else – all of the kinky stuff anyway; I had everything I needed.”
She took her foot off his chest, turned and squatted over his face, and without any hesitation pushed out a pile of shit right onto his face. He instinctively closed his mouth. “Slave, what the fuck was that,” she questioned aloud. “I give you the opportunity you have asked for and you waste it? You stupid, stupid slave. I was about to take you to have you spend hours watching my harshest punishments before you got to experience any, but now you will experience punishment first hand – after you clean this up,” she stepped to the side and squatted down next to him, she motioned for him to roll over, and when he didn’t respond quickly enough, she grabbed his head and pushed his face in her waste. “Use your mouth slave, you made this disgusting mess,” she said in anger. “Get the fuck up, let’s go.” His face was covered in her shit as she hurried him out of the room. “Mistress Horn,” she called. “Get another slave in here to clean this cell. I have to make a stop at the chamber.”
She led him to a room that was extremely intimidating. Just from looking around, he could tell it was not meant to be soundproof, the walls were concrete and barren. There was a chair with straps that resembled an electric chair, a St Andrew’s cross and then a chain with cuffs hanging from a spot on the ceiling – that’s where she led him. She yanked down the cuffs and locked his hands in place; she then step back and aggressively pulled the other end. She stretched it until his toes were just barely on the ground. She walked to the other side of the room and grabbed a bullwhip. She walked closer, stopping when she was about six feet away. “Hey shitface, you’re now going to feel real punishment,” a smile came across her face as she stared him right in the eyes. “If you thought the way I ‘punish’ slaves in my videos, you’re in for a big surprise. I have never posted a video of a true punishment. Let’s make this quick, I’m tired and you have sleep to start being deprived of.”
She reached back and followed all the way through with a vicious ferocity. He screamed in real pain, and it echoed through the halls. She briefly admired the fact that her first stroke broke through his skin, but quickly followed up with four more violent lashes – it felt as if every blow deepened the initial wound. The next five were nothing but a blur. She quickly finished and unhooked the end of the chain that was keeping him on his toes – he fell to the ground in a heap. “Get up slave, let’s go,” she didn’t even acknowledge the fact that he was bleeding from the whip marks on his back. “I am tired slave, you’re not going to want me to still be tired in the morning.”
They left the room she called the chamber and continued down the hall. When then finally arrived at this much smaller, much more soundproof room, he saw the same type of chair as in the other room, but with more restraint points, as well as an old looking TV. She led him to the chair and sat him down, she immediately started fastening the restraints as she seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere. Unbeknownst to him, Ms Kitty was due back in just a few minutes, and she wanted to find all of the details on her new slave’s life. He could not move a millimeter, these restraints were no joke. She attached a leather strap across his forehead, locking his head facing the TV, she also added a menacing device that prevented his eyes from closing. Just thirty seconds in, and this was already torturous. As a final touch she put on large, black, noise canceling headphones, the world went silent. She was standing just a foot in front of him, but now talking into a microphone that was connected directly to his headphones. “Slave, the following video is not a long one, but I consider it my greatest hits, and it will be on replay for you for the next 18 hours,” she pointed a remote control at the TV and pressed play. “This is the stuff you’ve never seen, this is me, at home with my house slaves. Training, punishment and just plain mistreatment of my slaves.” She continued, “I am a sexual creature, and feeding my sadistic streak makes it more intense – enjoy slave.” She stared at him for one moment before leaving and closing the door behind her. She saw a light at the end of the hallway, and continued down to greet her friend Ms Kitten who had returned from her trip.
As soon as the door closed, a horrible sound filled his headphones, and it was at an extremely loud volume. His eyes stayed fixated on the screen because he had no choice otherwise. The images were of broken slaves, and an intense, demanding Mistress, and every so often, he could hear her voice cut through the sound in the headphones, “you are a slave, you no longer have a life outside of serving me, you will do anything I say without question or expect sever repercussions, you are no longer free, you are a slave.” The message was extremely clear, and while in the first few moments his head was spinning, the message was now sinking in completely. He was exhausted, but unable to do anything about it, even when his eyes would try to roll back in his head for some respite, the headphones would emit an even more shrill sound preventing a mental escape. The loop of the video ended with a brief instructional section outlining ways to greet his Mistress, as well as guests, the names and roles of everyone in the household as well as instructions not to speak to any of them, and even a section on ways to sexually please Mistress April. This section contained explicit details on how to make his new owner cum and outlined that in addition to sexual intercourse, Mistress likes to be pleased using tongues, mouths and fingers which was followed by a clip of her in a short black leather dress and bright pink boots cumming all over a slave using his fingers to fuck her. Even on the fourth time through, this part caused a painful bulging inside his steel prison. Each time, as soon as this part was done, it flashed to the opening, mock castration scene where Mistress April was seen with all the tools needed to remove her slave’s sex while angrily admonishing him for touching himself without permission. He had already lost complete track of time, in his head, the mantra of complete slavery had now replaced any independent thought.
Meanwhile, Mistress April had one of her slaves open a bottle of wine to welcome back her friend from her whirlwind trip. She kissed her in both cheeks to greet her, “tell me all about it black widow, what did you find, what did you bring back?” Mistress April playfully addressed Ms Kitten with the role she played in their latest film. She first pulled out a duffel bag of cash and put it on the table. “This was all around the townhouse,” Ms Kitten explained. “I spoke with some neighbors, and they said he moved there about three years ago following a divorce. They described him as kind and quiet. They all seemed to really like him, but to not know much about him,” Ms Kitten continued. “I decided to tell them we were filming a surprise reality show where we sent him on a dream trip. They said he used to only leave in the morning to catch the train and return home after work, and since cashing out on his company’s IPO, they’d seen no one come and go except the occasional ‘prostitute’ – I assumed that to be Dommes he was sessioning with.” She pulled a Moleskine Notebook from her bag and looked at her notes while she took a sip from her glass. “He is obsessed with suffering, torture and being a prisoner. He had a laptop and iPad that I searched and the history was basically an internet directory of the best femdom, prison porn – he had a special fixation on your site.”
Mistress April sat back and smiled, she reached in the duffel bag and took four stacks of $100USD bills and handed them to Ms Kitten, “just a small token of my appreciation dear.” She had handed her $40,000USD, and just asked one question, “will anyone miss him if we make his dreams come true?” Mistress April was hoping for only one answer, and when Ms Kitten shook her head in the negative, she sat back and smiled. “Did you bring the laptop and devices back,” Mistress April asked. Ms Kitten reached into her bag and pulled out a MacBook Pro and iPad and put them on the table. “This is good. I want to know how fucked up his thoughts are so we can push right past.” Ms Kitten interrupted, “there was one story that it looked like he read again and again, this is the link (actual link at the end of the chapter).” Mistress April sat back and read through the short story. “Well then, I think we have a new house slave in our possession,” she raised her eyes from the device and looked at Ms. Kitten. “Did you read this story dear?” Ms Kitten smiled and nodded.
“Slave Ares! Get in here,” Mistress April called to one of her slaves that had traveled with her. “Slave, we will be taking a the new slave home with us.” He lifted his head from the greeting position and looked up at Mistress April, “but Mistress, don’t you have enough slaves living at home.” Mistress April’s face changed drastically, “slave, who do you think you are questioning my decision- that is not your place, and you know it.” She stood up and towered over her slave, “Ms Kitten, will you please go gather my new slave, the one with the huge, satisfying cock and bring him to the chamber, we will meet you there in a minute after a word.” Every word out of Mistress April’s mouth was said with intent, she had not allowed the new slave to fuck her pussy, but described his cock as satisfying, she also knew it was average size at best – but every word went a long way in putting her other slave in its place.
Now alone, she continued, “I was calling you in here to make me cum, and now it’s led to something different. Did my deciding to take a new slave hurt your feelings? Are you worried it will cut into your time spent serving your Mistress?” She asked these questions in a clearly mocking tone as she did not care what his responses were. “You we’re about to be put on a pedestal in front of Ms Kitten, and now you will be made an example of in front of an audience of two. I called you to use your mouth to make me come, and now you’re about to do the complete opposite,” she pulled back and slapped him across the face. “Do not ever question my judgement slave,” she attached a chain to his collar and tugged him towards the door.
Ms Kitten made her way to the room in which the newest slave was being tortured. When she opened the door, there was not even movement from him to acknowledge someone else had entered the room – his only focus was the screen. She walked behind him and removed the headphones, the sound still played in his head. She then clicked off the TV and released the device which held his eyes wide open. The slave blinked his eyes rapidly and then closed then and slumped back. Ms Kitten Met this action with a viscous slap across the face, “wake up slave, this part of your indoctrination is not over, it’s only halftime, and just as with your American football, there’s a halftime show.” She unfastened his bindings as she continued to speak, “I visited the place you used to call home slave, I slept in your bed, I talked to your neighbors, I went through everything and I enjoyed it thoroughly.” She didn’t know if the look in his eyes was shock at her comments or just the fact he’d now been awake for 48 hours, but she continued on, “I learned your secrets slave, even found the story you must have read nightly about the slave who traveled to meet a Mistress in a far off place and it led to nothing but a life of suffering – I have the feeling that will begging to seem like a Disney fairy tale to you very soon when you meet your new reality head on – now come on slave!” She attached her leash to his collar and pulled him.
Ms Kitten and the new slave arrived in the chamber first. She attached him to the cross positions in the middle of the room, near the wall. As she attached him, she continued to taunt him, “I noticed in your browsing history, you had an affinity for slaves suffering on the cross, mostly ones being beaten with canes.” Even though his brain was basically mush right now, he knew what she was saying was true. “I even read from your journal about the first time you were put on a cross and caned – you thought it was a one-hour play session and Mistress made you the naked centerpiece at a party. So humiliated you left your job over it. Oh slave, I, we know everything about who you were,” she stressed the last three words for maximum impact. She fastened all four of his extremities, then his a strap across his throat and then lastly, a large thick strap across his midsection. As she tightened the very last strap, Mistress April entered, led by slave Ares on a leash.
“Slave,” the sound of her voice cut even through the fog his head had been in. “This is slave Ares, whether he likes the idea or not, he will be showing you some of the more mundane aspects of servitude once we return home,” she immediately stopped herself as she slipped – it was the first time she had given any hint that his journey would not end when his prison stay was over, but he still seemed too disoriented to completely comprehend. Mistress April fingered a few keys on a chain around her neck, settling on one and leaning in close to the device on his manhood. “I’m unlocking you slave, I want to watch exactly how your slave cock reacts to what you see,” she continued as she detached all three separate parts, putting them on the ground. “The truth is all right here slave, your mouth can say one thing, but this never lies,” she took his cock in her hand, and then swallowed it in her mouth, making a loud popping sound as she pulled back and the swelling head met her lips. “See slave, even in the most dire situation, where you have no idea what is coming next, your cock tells the truth of how you feel.”
She stood up and spit in his face, seeming disgusted to have the taste of his cock on her lips. She picked up the clipboard once again, “ah yes, forced bi is a hard no for our new little slave, slave Ares, get over here and take this slaves cock in your mouth.” She knew the least favorite part of the slaves duty was serving a male cock, and she had a point to prove, “look at that slave, your cock is swelling, your cock is pulsing, and like I just stated – your cock doesn’t lie.” She had proven her point, but in addition to proving a point to her new slave, this trip to the chamber was about punishment for her long-time slave for thinking he had say in a matter which he did not. She leaned in close, “bring it right to the edge, and if it cums, you’ll both pay.” She chose her words purposefully- she knew that dehumanizing the new slave by using the term it had a huge mental impact. As he writhed against his bonds on the cross slave Ares suddenly stopped leaving his hard, throbbing cock dripping precum everywhere. “I couldn’t have done it better myself slave, well, I could have, but I certainly never would,” she looked right in the eyes of her new slave. “You lied on your application slave,” there was a level of seriousness in her voice. “Lying carries the same type of severity as talking back to me,” she continued. “So you are going to watch a real punishment executed for back talk, and then you will experience what happens when you lie to me.” She paced around a bit before removing a plastic bag from her pocket. She opened it and methodically approached behind slave Ares who was kneeling facing the wall. She put the bag over his head and pulled it tight. By the way he was struggling, it was clear his punishment had begun.
He watched the plastic bag cling to the slave’s face as he struggled, Mistress tightened her grip in response, “a slave that talks back to me is a slave that doesn’t respect me, and that slave doesn’t deserve to live.” She said that loud enough so that both slaves heard it clearly. Finally she seemed to react to a lessening of his struggling by reaching her fingers in his mouth and tearing a hole in the bag. “I control you slave, I decide the severity for each infraction against me, and I decide if you live or die,” she punctuated her sentence by ripping the bag off his head and tossing it to the side. “Fasten him to the post Ms Kitten, would you please,” Mistress April approached her victim on the cross. “I love my slaves,” she said as she came closer to his face, “and if you truly love something, you have to be willing to let it go – and by let it go, I mean make it pay for an infraction so severely that Ms Kitten and I have to dispose of the body.” She spoke in a way that made him feel it wasn’t for show. In that moment, he wasn’t sure if he would make it out of that prison.
She walked over to the wall and removed a thick cane. By looking at it, you could tell it was one that could be used to send a lasting message. As she approached the post where her slave was bound, she held it with two hands and took a full swing. It cut through the air like a bat, and made contact with his lower back at full speed. It didn’t take the form of a normal, ritualistic punishment; she clearly wanted this to be a true beating. She pounded on every exposed inch of flesh, all while continuing to question his reason for being alive. At one point, she walked in front of him, and asked, “slave, why should I even let you live? I have a line of slaves who will show me respect, waiting to serve.” As he tried to string together words in response, she pulled back and struck him in the head, knocking him unconscious. “Get up slave! I’m! Not! Finished!” She slapped his face until his eyes opened again, and when they did, she tossed the heavy cane to the ground. Unplanned, it bounced a little bit and eventually rolled right to the feet of her other slave, fastened to the cross – that part couldn’t have played out more perfectly.
She walked over to the wall and removed a shorter, leather whip, and she walked back across the room. She made sure to run her hand slowly over it to show her newest slave that the end had three menacing looking metal beads, sure to cut the flesh of whatever they met. “Ten lashes slave – count them,” she approached her slaves fully exposed back. “One!” She said the word before even swinging her whip. Her newest slave could not believe the violent tool tore apart her slaves back with one blow. He also could not believe the sound of absolute agony in her punishment victims voice as he cried out. Mistress April continued on, cold and business like. “TWO!” She pulled back and it had the same result in a fresh spot. Her tool was actually drawing blood with each blow as she continued to ten. From the cross, he couldn’t believe his eyes. He had always considered himself to be a hardcore player in the BDSM community, but he had never experienced, or seen anything like the last few minutes. She walked over to her freshly beaten slave and unclipped the cuffs that were attached to the post and he immediately fell to the floor. “Have you learned your lesson slave,” she questioned him while standing over his battered body, now in the fetal position. As she stood over him, trying to pull the answers out of him, she squatted and began to piss all over his fresh wounds – even though he still couldn’t string words together, you could tell this was an extremely painful sensation.
“Ms Kitten, will you please remove him, put him in solitary until we are ready to leave and let Rose know it is her job to make sure he lives,” the string of orders came from her mouth naturally, but her new slave was not totally sure if she even meant the last part. Once she gave that order, she turned her attention to her slave on the cross. Being that he’d now been awake for more than 50 straight hours, and all that had filled the last ten-plus days his functioning senses were overloaded. Just as Mistress had planned, his cock stiffened as she approached – she knew that, in his state, her natural aroma would have that effect. “What is this slave,” she questioned sarcastically. “You have just watched me nearly murder a slave for an infraction far less than what you have committed, and you can only respond by being aroused?” Mistress April turned away from him to hide her smile.” She continued on, “While I beat and torture my other slaves quite often, my sadism is not yet fulfilled. I need to know that one slave exists only to suffer for me. I want to know that at all times one helpless male is undergoing near constant agony and is allowed no pleasure of any kind. I have chosen you to fill that need for me, slave.” This exact line sounded so familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it – she knew where the line was lifted from, and even though she also knew it wasn’t truthful; she leaned into it.
With her leather-gloved hand she wiped the precum from the tip of his cock, wiping it on his lips. “I actually do have more in store for you than just making you a whipping post slave, but deciding if you ever know pleasure again is up to you, and what you consider pleasure – isn’t it,” she came extremely close to his face. “Do you know why that line about a life in constant agony was so familiar slave? Because it was from a story on your most-visited website, on your laptop!” She went on as she walked away, “when Ms Kitten visited your lovely home, she gathered everything she deemed important and brought it back with her – I literally know your deepest, darkest secrets, and when we return home, and your actual training begins slave.” She paused for a moment, realizing what she said next would change her new slave’s life forever. “I guess this is the right time to inform you slave, any life you had before you arrived at this prison is now completely over. Your family, your friends are gone. You have me now – me and my complete happiness is your only focus and sole purpose of your pathetic life. And, as long as you survive the next few days,” she took a breath and paused for the maximum effect on that last line. “You will return to my home in South Africa and be trained fully as one of my live-in slaves. But you paid for this prison experience slave, and the last thing I want is someone going on the internet and leaving a review saying they didn’t get their money’s worth.”
She walked to the wall and removed a large cattle prod. From his intake forms, she knew that electrical play was one of those areas he was unsure about. She pressed the button as she jammed it against his exposed midsection, “lying is never tolerated slave – never!” She pulled it away and his convulsing ceased for a moment before she repeated the act, moving it slightly to the left, “sure lying about liking cock may seem trivial, but that is where lessons are learned. Remember slave, you have a built in lie detector between your legs – it never fails.” She pulled the decide away from his flesh and place it under his balls, using it to raise it up. “This is the source of truth for slaves like you, and will always continue to be,” she pressed and released the button sending an electric charge through his cock and balls. She walked away and hung it back in place, picking up a new device from the same wall. This one had a long cord attached that she plugged in, she took a cloth, wiping the surface and set it down on the ground. “Sometimes it’s about the show, slave,” she said in her most charming voice. “And sometimes it’s about the actions,” she continued speaking as she uncuffed him and turned his body around so that he was facing the cross and his back was fully exposed and vulnerable. “And then sometimes there is a larger purpose, like now slave,” she paused again. “What I did to Ares was indeed extreme – that was for show,” her stream of thought went on. “That electricity pulsing through your body was very purposeful – I will not tolerate liars,” she paused again. “And what’s next will serve a larger purpose, what’s next will insure you are my property forever, and no one can claim otherwise.” She picked up what she had plugged into the wall, he could now make out a glowing ‘A’ on the end of it – it was an electric branding iron. She walked up to him, and pressed it into his right ass cheek. The air filled with the unmistakable smell of burning flesh. She pulled it away cleanly, and admired her work. “There you are slave, your own personal scarlet letter – well, my scarlet letter,” she set down the iron, pulled the plug, turned out the lights and left the room; leaving him hanging from the cross.
Chapter 7 – The Conclusion
After what seemed like forever, but was in reality only about 20 minutes, she came back into the room. “Okay slave, time to come down, need some rest – big day tomorrow,” her demeanor had completely changed from minutes earlier. The same woman who had just seared her initial into his ass, seemed to be joking around with him. “Let’s get you chained up,” she picked up the chains that he’d come accustomed to wearing and put them back on him and as she did, his cock swelled. “Ah slave, you are something. After everything you were just subjected to, just being near your owner brings the perfect amount of blood to that slave cock,” she tugged on the chain letting his cock point the way, free of his chastity device.
When they reached the heavy door with the number forty five on it, she opened it and led him inside. “Over there slave,” she pointed to the bed. “I want to explain something to you in the clearest terms possible,” she took on a much more serious tone. “Tomorrow we will leave here and return to your new home, my home. If you had even bothered to read the agreement you signed, and did any amount of research, you would understand that it is actually a legally binding document in the Republic of South Africa – that’s where you’ll spend the rest of your life in complete service to me.” His face was nearly emotionless as the enormity of her words and the breaking of him over the past few days had combined to put him in a broken state. “The next few weeks will be the worst of your life, there is no doubt about that; you will long for a re-do of this little vacation you’ve been on the past few days,” she continued. “When you are next awaken, you will receive your slave uniform. This is what I will expect you to be dressed in at all times, it will show your place in this world clearly. You will be wearing a suit over it for our trip and that is why I need you to get this rest – it will not be customary to have such a long period of rest during your next 12 months.”
As he looked at Mistress, he noticed that she was rubbing herself while talking to him – she was turned on by every single aspect of the situation. Her authenticity in loving her role truly showed. “Until we touch down in my home, we will give the appearance that you have some rights, just remember, in reality, this is not the case,” she took the gloves hand she was using to rub her pussy and grabbed his face. “You get fresh, or get out of line, even a little bit, and you will pay – a very high price.” She pushed his head to the mattress leaving her scent all over him. “The next time you see me slave, will be on our flight. I have some things to do and people to see on the last night in Berlin. It’s a 15 hour flight slave – rest up.”
The door closed and the light left the room. This was the first time since stepping off the plane two weeks earlier that he was truly alone with his thoughts. No torture devices, no one yelling at him or beating him – just himself. His entire mind was filled only with events from the stay at the prison, it was all that flashed through his head. It was like this was all he could focus on – it was what he had become. He drifted off into a deep sleep, and his dreams were filled with images of his Mistress, they had completely consumed him. Each time he was stirred awake, the constant throbbing in his swelled balls reminded him of what had been going on in his mind. Just as he had reached a state where he didn’t awake every 20 minutes or so, the door opened.
“Up and on your feet,” the voice was familiar, but not that of his Mistress. Mistress Horn was before him with a pile of folded clothing. “I am going to explain this to you once, so wake up and listen well.” She set the pile on the bed and took the shiny, black suit from the top of the pile and held it up. “This is your new uniform. It will basically be the thing you always wear for the rest of your pathetic life – put it on now.” He stepped into the semi-tight fitting garment and stretched it over himself. For the most part, it fit like a soft leather glove. “You’ll notice there is no coverage for your male genitalia or your asshole,” she spoke clearly and directly. “These parts are to remain exposed at all times unless Mistress April gives specific instructions to cover them.” His swollen balls rested against the soft texture of the uniform, putting his cock on full display.
“For the next day, you will wear this,” she removed a clear, plastic chastity device from her pocket, holding it up. “I prefer steel, Mistress April definitely prefers steel, but we’ve found for travel, even private, this is much more practical.” She reached down, gripped his exposed balls and squeezed; his cock almost instantly retreated from its semi-hard state. She forcefully shoved his swollen balls trough the ring and forced the rest of the device over his cock, using a zip-tie like tag to serve as the lock. “Now the rest, put this suit on over this,” she handed him a suit, shirt and shoes. “When we interact with anyone on our trip, you will take on the role of someone who had a big monetary windfall and is traveling the world, enjoying the spoils – be careful how well you play the role as we will be paying close attention.” He dressed in the suit, noticing the fit was perfect, “see slave, some of the benefits of being exposed at all times – it’s easy to get a perfect measurement.” She laughed, commenting on the fact that the suit had been custom made for him. As he sat down and put him shoes on, she handed him a ziploc bag, it had a wallet, a passport and a flip phone – not the iPhone 13 he had came with. “These are what Mistress has deemed acceptable belongings for our journey,” she was referring to the contents of the ziploc. “When we leave the airport in Johannesburg, these things will go back in the bag, and you will never see them again unless we travel.”
He heard a horn beep outside the walls, and Mistress Horn checked her phone, “let’s go slave, Uber is here, everyone else is at the airport already. I will give you more direction in the car.” They got inside the very basic Uber and she came close to his ear and whispered so the driver could not hear. “When we get to the airport, until those wheels leave the ground, you and I are lovers and no one will know any different. If you disrespect me even once, I will remove a testicle and wear it as a charm on a necklace the rest of your life,” her seriousness was unmistakable. They arrived at the airport, and the Uber drove them out on the tarmac, right near the plane. He saw his Mistress in her staple black leather dress looking amazing. As they exited the car, she held his hand and dragged him along. “Oh my dear, you both made it – the happy couple,” Mistress shouted in a clearly exaggerated tone. “My friends, we embark on a journey, our dear friend’s first trip to our home country. Can’t wait to show you around our home.” As they approached the stairs, she kissed both their cheeks as they passed. “Get on board, have a drink, let’s enjoy the fight.”
Everyone was on board before Mistress April came up the stairs. It was Ms Kitten, Mistress Horn, Slave Ares and Slave Rose – whom he had no interaction with in Berlin, but knew her from Mistress’s videos. He offered everyone champagne, the two slaves refused, the others accepted; he also poured a glass for himself. He had truly embraced feeling slightly human again. As he lifted the glass to his lips and tasted the grape, bubbly beverage dance on his tongue. “Slave! What the fuck are you doing,” it was Mistress April. “Did anyone give him permission to consume alcohol ? Anyone?” You could hear a pin drop in the cabin as the plane started to move. “Let me fucking tell you something slave,” Mistress pushed him into a brown leather captains chair and pushed her full weight onto him as she spoke in her enraged state. “The last two weeks were play, this is real,” she continued as the plane sped down the runway. “This is your life. The contract you signed is now fully and legally in effect as the next country we land in will enforce it on my behalf,” she went on until she felt the wheels leave the ground. “Slave, do you remember the very last text message you ever received – it said ‘welcome to hell,’” she put her face nose to nose with his as everyone else looked on. “Remember, ‘hell’ was a vacation you paid for, what is next is so much worse.”
The End ….. or is it?