Saturday, April 15, 2017

Secret Society of Sadistic Secretaries
SOS Part V: The 400 to 1 Grand Finale

The 400 to 1 Grand Finale.

Part Five of the Secret Society of Sadistic Secretaries. Part Four: Here

A fictional tale about a real world secret

In between individual presentations and the panel discussion that would wrap up the convention, the organization had planned a bit of entertainment. Yes, that is correct: more fun at my expense. My services were called upon once again. Well, not exactly called upon, nor summoned. I was simply there, tied up with no way out. On top of that I was exhausted from the non-stop carnage I'd endured all morning.

male chastity belt - built in dildo - shock device - remote control - educational shield - pain - femdom
As always: No way out.

As a guy who considers kink to be a liberal interpretation of sex and hence women, the whole thing had been an emotional drain from the start. On top of that I was worn down physically. Her smile - and the occasional sparkle in her eye - is what kept me going. Not that it prepared me for what was to come.

The sadistic secretaries who previously shared their "inspiring" stories on how to control bossie boy, were already seated on the podium. So was mistress. And yes, I accompanied her, be it somewhat less comfortable than she was. Realizing my hardship, she'd already given me three big hugs. Each one was one part "thank you boi" and one part "hold on just a little longer". As usual I had no choice, but this time it was exceptionally hard on me.

Despite all that, mistress had one more surprise for me in store. Looking back, I think she was looking forward to it very much. Seated comfortable on the podium - with me at her feat - the speaker handed her the microphone.

One more surprise

Public play is not my thing, but mistress loves it. If it has to be, I prefer to be in a room with like-minded people. It makes the inevitable a little less harsh, or so I believed. Being naked in from of some 400 women is tough, really tough. Add to that being tied up and no way out, you can imagine some of the things that raced through my mind. Of course I had it all wrong.

Microphone in hand, mistress started to speak. About us, our kinky adventures, our vanilla life and other stuff I forgot about. Then she arrived at the fun part - her definition. One of mistress' sadistic superpowers is to turn things upside down, good things turn bad and bad vibes transform into the stuff  happy memories are made of.

Mistress knows very well that the two of us differ in what we look for in kink. She wants it more than I do. Hence, the tying me up to the TENS unit and teasing me without release the day before.

Desire inevitably makes the hard stuff easier. Perhaps it is because your brains stops working when lust takes over. I don't know. Having teased & tortured my private parts with electrical toys so many hours before the convention, it turned me into a no-brain, perfectly-aroused slave. Yes, on some level, everything that happened was hot. But also: despite the intimidating, erotic setting I felt naked and violated, especially in front of all these deliciously devious women. Little did I know the worst was still to come.

For some reason the idea of a "mad scientist", which inevitable is always a sadistic one, appeals to mistress. And yes, she lives up to the dream, big time.

"Live, inevitably is about the highs and the lows. Boi and I are very compatible - made for each other is a better word - the only thing I regret is his limited kink drive" The audience erupted with laughter. To me there was nothing funny about it. This would be bad. Capital B.A.D. Or even worse.

"Good thing then that boi loves his toys. Technically they are our toys, but who cares? Boi and I don't do long term chastity. For one because we both want our mutual attraction to be rooted in the person that we are, not the kink object derived from it. Unfortunately for boi, it makes those days when I lock him up even more interesting. I kind of like that". More laughter from the audience as she spoke. Even I managed some kind of smile.

"What I want from boi is first and foremost to be with me - me, as in the woman, not his mistress. Unfortunately for boi, as his domme I have a slightly different opinion about our relationship. Good thing then mistress is always right. Like most of you, the two of us had our share of discussions about the direction and limits of our kink. One thing I remember from our conversations, is how he feared a chastity belt with a built in electrical unit. Guess what he got for his birthday 2 years ago?"

I remember. Oh yes, I do. To my surprise that year mistress gave me a beautifully wrapped box - a large one. Oddly the box was as light as a feather. As I opened it, I found a photo of a special kind of chastity belt inside. The note said: "For that special occasion........... xxxxxxxxxxx" [Yes, 11]. I recognized it immediately. My stomach turned upside down when I realized its full painful potential. I recall thinking how the built-in shock device was misleading called an "educational shield". More like no way out. Two years later I found myself wearing the same custom-made dreaded device in front of several hundred dominant women. So much for consensual, I thought.

"Electricity is fun.’It makes the highs higher and the lows more frequent’ to paraphrase an old quote." I didn't nod, but I agreed. After all, experience is the harshest teacher of all. And I'd received quite the education. Perhaps that is why mistress teased the hell out of me before the convention, I thought.

"It's not just about the lows being more frequent, but also more intense" mistress said, as she removed my belt, while keeping me in bondage. For a moment I felt relieved, then mistress spoke again.

"Unfortunately for boi, more arousal means more kink. Now imagine what would happen if he found himself stripped of desire, naked and bound in front of us?


"I need a volunteer please." With plenty of choice, mistress picked a woman at random.
"Boi is a bit overexcited, I'm gonna cool him down. Today has been exceptionally brutal for him. As I drain him from his desires, feel free to wield this crop anywhere on his bottom. He's had too much fun already". Luckily for me, I didn't understand what mistress had in store. Right then my world existed of one part desire and one part humiliation.

As the crop rained down on my behind, mistress proved to be to be an exceptionally talented mad, sadistic genius. It took her all of two minutes to reduce me from a highly aroused, yet humiliated, state into 90 percent humiliation and 10 percent desperation. Most likely it was what she always had in mind. As my desire faded - without anything in return - the room grew bigger and bigger. Drained of my sexuality, not in a happy manner, the 400 women started to look more menacing by the minute.

Needless to say, they loved every minute of my ordeal. From that first gently caress to the last incomplete stroke which left me desperate and denied, I was reduced to a mere toy for the amusement of mistress and her friends. Flashes of a rowdy crowd in a football stadium entered my mind. On top of that a perfect stranger was wreaking havoc on my back - and loving it.

A stranger going medieval on your ass is always painful. But if she does so when you transition from a - somewhat – happy – highly aroused slave to a man in pain and bondage, every lash burns into your flesh. I wanted out. Fun and happiness had left planet earth. So did I. Yet there was no way to go. Next thing I remember is mistress looking at me, a quick glance, very intense. It calmed me down somewhat. Things were going to be OK, she signalled. I already knew that. It's still her. But her look was not about that. Have you ever tried to put into words what you feel, when the woman you love looks at you in her own special way? Hopeless, isn't it? I was just as miserable  as before, perhaps even more so. Yet one look of my wicked goddess was enough to calm me down. Doesn't mean the crowd stopped being intimidating or me feeling small and humiliated any less. Yet from that one look I could tell everything would be OK. With her, it always is. Of course I am safe under her command, but to have that reaffirmed on a crucial moment like this, made all the difference. Later I remembered how a tiny part of my brain realized I was hers, a blissful micro moment. Meanwhile I soldiered on.


"We forgot about the freebie part!" Not true of course, it was planned long in advance. As I was awaiting my ordeal, my mind started to wonder. Man, slave or freebie, what is the difference? As it turned out, a lot! A few minutes after feeling more naked and completely a-sexual in front of 400 sadistic secretaries, there was one more thing mistress had planned for me: an up-close and personal encounter with those very same 400 sadistic women. Ouch! These days that's easier than you think. Mistress had me strapped back in my belt again - yes, the evil belt that comes with an electrical shock device. Did I forget to mention it is remotely controlled, guaranteed up to 700 meter – outdoors?

With my resources drained and my back on fire, I was done for the day, week and year. But no, mistress had other plans.

"Quite a few ladies today approached me about his belt and the built-in shock device. I’ve decided to give you a first-hand experience of just how elegant and convenient the device really is. What I am gonna do is pass around the remote control to the audience, so you can try it yourself." The women in the audience began cheering, it's what happens when a room full of sadistic secretaries do, when they are left without their bossie-boi-toi. Meanwhile I had a heart attack or something similar. Mistress never disappoints and especially not when it comes to the deviant stuff. Somehow she managed to keep me close and simultaneously lend me to 400 women, who, no doubt, were going to fry me. One of the reasons I love mistress is her beautiful smile. I firmly believe it is a translation of her inner beauty. Never thought I'd say this, but right then it felt like she was smiling too much and it gained some added meaning. Of course she wasn't, but I was terrified.

Mistress is an excellent judge of character. After she handed the remote to a lady in the front row, she leaned over and said: "you behaved excellent today. Hold on just a little longer. It will be bad, but you can manage. You're safe in my care." I missed that last bit because of zzzap. And again. Looking back I'm wondering why the women even bothered to lower the voltage. As I imagined, the thing the audience enjoyed the most was to max the voltage. Bad, bad, as in really bad. I was suffering beyond belief. One thing kept me going. It was the one thing mistress said just before she handed the remote to the first stranger. "No worries boi, I limited it to seven." Like many relationships between a woman and a man where femdom is a big part, this was her way of showing me how she cared for me. And of course, she didn't want anyone to damage her personal toy. Not that I realized - zzap - it right there and then.

As I was zapped by too many greedy dommes, the round table conference slowly progressed. I honestly don't know what was being discussed. Neither did I care. All I remember is mistress hand every now and than, which gave me strength to endure my ordeal. What I do remember is that 400 is an awfull big number. Finally someone handed back the remote to mistress and she shut it down.


That night as we lie in bed, she removed my collar.

"Thank you" she said. Most people frown upon a domme saying thank you to her sub, but lucky me, I am more than just her slave. Meanwhile I was glad I survived this special day and felt exhausted. Knowing she was happy with my behaviour that day, felt like a relieve. No slave wants to let his mistress down and no man lets his girl down. Still, a bit too much. I was about to pass out, so exhausted was I, as she crawled up to me. She did it in her very special way, only she can. It told me how much me trying to cope with everything that day, meant to her. It is also how she gets me every time. Not the kink, no matter how exiting it is, but her happiness afterwards. And yes I know, the next time will be worse. I guess, I'll try to cope. But what if the day comes I cannot give anymore? She is smarter than I am. We'll find a way.

The next morning I woke up with my girl curled up in my arms. My body felt as if it had taken a beating with a baseball bat non-stop for a year. I glanced at her. She looked tired. It made me realize just how much effort she had put into all of it. Judging by the looks on her face, she would be asleep for at least another hour. I did not kiss her before I got out of bed, for fear of waking her up. It's something most people don't understand. Whatever works for you.

On my way to the bakery, I popped over to get some flowers and bought her roses. I was about to leave the shop as I turned around and bought her another bouquet. Roses too. After all she is both the woman I love and my mistress. One of the two had one extra rose. You know which one.


A couple of days later I joked:

"You couldn't have done it without me"

Her tongue sharp as always, really struck the fear of God in me.

"So true silly boi. But you can."

Checkmate. I knew. But she wasn't finished yet.

"I forgot to tell, they loved us so much, people spread the word.  We received another invitation. You know how medical training gives you inside knowledge of human biology. Knowledge of physical and mental vulnerabilities. Knowledge you can apply to the physiology of slaves to make them suffer even more. It is what some female doctors and nurses practice after hours. During the weekends the hospital is mostly empty and they asked me to drop you off for the weekend. You'll be fine. I think..."

Writing femdom fiction is risky. I used to stay clear of it. Too often an idea turns into a - fixed - script. Some say, the more detailed the story, the more it takes away control from mistress. I used to agree. That is, untill I realized fiction is an excellent way to explore activities you are uncomfortable with. 

So remember this is not a script, nor is it part of my wishlist. Exploring the scary stuff in writing helps find mistress and slave find common grounds.


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