A Real Slave 2
My appointment was for 4.00PM. I wasn’t sure where her hotel was so at 3.00PM I walked out to find it. I discovered that it was no more than two minutes from where I was staying.
At 3.50 I set out, my collar and ball gag in my bag. At 3.55 I was in the elevator, heading to her room. A minute later I was knocking on her door. There was no reply. This was confusing. She had earlier told me her room number. Thinking to call her, I checked my phone. No signal. I knocked again and waited. Still no reply. Maybe I was on the wrong floor! Two girls walked around the corner and came to the door I had knocked on. “My room” one of them said. “Sorry, sorry,” I said, even more confused. I remembered that Mistress’ number was in a message on my phone. I realized my mistake. I hurried to the right door and knocked quietly.
It opened, and there she was, dressed in red, red choker, long black boots, a vision of power and eroticism. I dropped to my knees, stunned by her beauty. Her expression was serious. “You’re late.” It was true, I was two minutes late because of my mistake. “Sorry Mistress,” I said. “Where is your collar?” she asked, her expression becoming stern. “Here, Mistress,” I said, indicating my bag. “I told you to wear it.” Huh? I was supposed to wear it in public? “Sorry Mistress, I thought I should only wear it in my room.” She slapped my face then, once with her palm, and again with the back of her hand. It stung my cheeks. I was a little scared. “Take your clothes off.” I obeyed. She put a different collar on me, with a leash attached. She pulled me around the room like a dog. I had to crawl quickly to keep up with her and try to protect my neck.
Then she replaced it with the gold studded collar, tightening it so it was more than close around my neck. It was tight, uncomfortable. She tied me then with her ropes, binding me heavily until I was helpless and immobilized. She pinched and squeezed and twisted my nipples. So much pain! She pulled on my collar, strangling me. She sighed and moaned as she did it. Then she reached into a bag, and brought out some clamps I hadn’t seen before. Black, with a chain. She fastened them on me and I gasped and groaned. This was really intense. She strangled me again. She left me for a while. Next she took the clamps off and a surge of pain hit me. She pushed me to the ground, and stood on me with her high heeled boots. The heels dug into me. She is not heavy but it was not easy. I was trapped, on the floor, with no alternative but to completely submit.
I then felt her loosen the ropes, and I was soon free. “Get on the bed, face down” came the order. I obeyed. A second later a heavy blow descended on my back. I screamed! She had started whipping me with the short thick whip that I had seen in her photos. Again and again the whip fell, and I screamed and clutched my head and writhed on the bed. “Stop screaming!” she ordered. I tried, but failed. The pain was severe, overwhelming. She roughly gagged me with her skirt, and whipped me some more. My screams had become muffled moans. The pain never ceased.
Presently she stopped. My relief was intense. “Turn over” she demanded. On my back, she tied my wrists and ankles. Again I was helpless. She put her hand over my mouth, and pinched my nose with her other fingers. No air at all. I stayed still for as long as I could then began to struggle as I ran out of air. She released me, sighing a long sigh. Then I said, “Do you want to strangle me with your hands?”
She didn’t hesitate. Her fingers circled my throat and started to squeeze. My air was reduced, then cut off. She moaned, and cried “Fuuuuuck!” As I struggled she held on. Again I was coming close to blacking out. At the last moment she let go. I sucked in air, and she gave a long deep sigh. We rested briefly.
An idea came to me. “Mistress, do you want to play a game?” “What game?”
On her website she had stated that there were to be no questions about her country of origin. I will never know why I said what I said next. “Mistress, give me three guesses about which country you come from. If I am right, you free me. If I am wrong, you kill me.” She turned to me, a most serious expression on her face. “Are you sure you want to play this game?” “Yes Mistress.” She stared at me, her green eyes penetrating me like drills. “You will risk everything?” “Yes Mistress.” “Very well. Begin.”
I thought for a second. I became lost for an answer! “Malaysia!” “Wrong” she said quietly. “Indonesia!” “No. Last guess.” I was becoming desperate! “South America!” As I said it I realized what a ridiculous guess it was. She fixed me with a long stare, a snake about to trap it’s prey. “Wrong.” Her words were spoken quietly, but they contained a deadly threat.
She moved behind me. I felt her fingers in my collar. She began to pull. ‘Oh….oh!’ she moaned. She pulled harder and I arched back to try to release the pressure on my neck. But the ropes held me in place. She pulled harder still and I was choking, my air cut off. She cried “I will kill you. Oh, fuuuuuckkk!” I writhed and struggled against the ropes, to no avail. Suddenly, release. The collar had snapped!
My relief was short. I felt her put the other collar on and she started to pull again. She really intended to kill me! Again my throat was constricted, again I struggled and struggled but my air was being cut off. “Fuuuuckkkk!” she cried again. Then, as I was about to pass out, the same thing happened. The second collar broke! She was breathing heavily, excited, exalted. “This is your lucky day. It is an omen. Two collars broke. You are meant to live.” She was totally serious. I believe she intended to kill me. She certainly had made me believe that she would do it. If the collars had not snapped, I might have been lying dead on her bed.
She released me then, and we talked. She said “You played with death. It was very dangerous. I warn you, don’t try it again.” I believed her. “I won’t Mistress.” We talked some more, she repeated her warning, then she told me to dress and leave. I obeyed, and went back to my hotel, my mind stunned by the events of the afternoon.
