Good news! You don’t need to have read Dominatrix Order 1-5 to understand this story. It is a stand alone story. In Book 6, Mistresses TRUMP Men, we meet a man named Cleomenes, a former business tycoon with dreadful, tanned skin and ludicrous, orange tinted hair who rules the city of Spero. Cleomenes jeopardizes the alliance between the cities of Artemisia, suppresses athletes’ freedom to kneel in protest, and even brags about grabbing women without their consent. But what happens when Cleomenes encounters the powerful Femdom Mistress, Goddess Isabella? Isabella puts him in his place, dishing out Humiliation, SPH, and even some CBT.
THE DOMINATRIX ORDER: FEMDOM EROTICA 6
MISTRESSES TRUMP MEN
BY J.W. SMITH
There was an inexpressible excitement in the sweltering air on the night of the Annual Spero Kink Show, that feeling that something was going to happen. Goddess Isabella Verus, the Supreme Leader of Femininus, entered the room like a fantasy in the flesh. She ventured to the Spero Kink Show that evening determined to make the acquaintance of a performer by the name of Carmen. She had watched Carmen’s act months earlier at a show in the Artemisian city of Zanillo, and had become completely enamored with the young beauty. But Isabella would have another encounter that night that would come to change the course of Artemisian history.
Before Isabella had departed Femininus earlier that day, she had spoken to her three slaves, Servant Bull, Servant Stud, and Worm, in regards to meeting Carmen after the show.
“Slaves, I need each of you to perform a task for me while at the Spero Kink Show this evening. Servant Stud, you are to find out Miss Carmen’s favorite flowers and purchase them for me, so I can give them to her as a gift. Worm, you are to purchase a bottle of Semillon wine for me to give to the lady. And Servant Bull, you are to arrange for me to meet Miss Carmen backstage after the show. I believe we will need to find out what the password is in order for me to get backstage. Just notify them that you are the slave of Supreme Leader Isabella Verus, and I am certain they will tell you the password,” Isabella instructed and then dismissed the slaves away with a gesture of her hand.
Isabella arrived at the Annual Spero Kink Show dressed in a tight black ruched mini skirt with black silk stockings and a white button down dress shirt, leaving the top several buttons of it undone to show off her smooth gorgeous breasts, which were pushed up and on display thanks to her tight-fitting black pushup bra. She also made certain to leave her grey handkerchief peeking out of the left breast pocket of her dress shirt. It was somewhat common knowledge that the gay culture in Spero had employed what was called a handkerchief code. The color grey indicated that Isabella was into bondage, and the placement of the handkerchief in her left pocket signified that she was a top.
Many of those in attendance that night had seen Isabella before, but were nonetheless struck by her beauty; the way her piercing bright green eyes shimmered, the manner in which her blonde hair flowed down her shoulders and her cleavage, the subtle sway of her curvy hips and ass as she walked. She arrived with her three nude slaves in tow and they all found their way to the table reserved especially for her.
The Spero Kink Show was a wild, provocative affair. The first act consisted of a nude male slave who was tied to a table. A group of a half dozen Mistresses surrounded the slave. The Mistresses were dressed in black underbust corsets, matching lace panties, garters and stockings. They approached the slave; all of them holding lit red candles in their hands, their steps in unison. The first Mistress forced a ball gag into the slave’s mouth as he struggled. The Mistresses proceeded to pour the hot candle wax all over his vulnerable body; his sensitive nipples, his taut legs, and his smooth stomach were subjected to the singe of the wax. The slave became aroused and he pleaded to the Mistresses, asking them to touch his erect cock. They commanded him to beg over and over again, having him repeat the words “Please allow me to feel your warm touch.” They ended their act by pouring the wax from their candles down onto his poor, stiff, vulnerable cock. Looks of dismay washed over the faces of every slave in the audience as the Mistresses left the slave’s cock hungrily twitching, with the hot red wax wickedly pouring down the shaft.
The second act involved two male slaves who were bound to St Andrew’s crosses. Their two Mistresses appeared, dressed in matching black corsets, garters and stockings, and thongs. The Mistresses whipped and flogged the slaves with finesse, performing tricks as they twirled their whips and floggers, giving the crowd a flamboyant show.
The third act featured a Mistress who inserted various stainless steel butt plugs into her bound, helpless male slave’s anus. She began with the smallest butt plug, inserting it and then removing it with ease. She then thrust a much larger butt plug into him, causing the pain slut to squeal and squirm, and once she appeared to be pleased she then extracted the device. The butt plugs increased in size, and when she got to the very last one, it was so massive that the act’s finale wasn’t suited for the more timid, squeamish audience members.
Once the intermission commenced, Isabella’s slaves dispersed and went about completing their assigned tasks. Isabella found it to be the opportune time to mingle. She saw Johanna, her friend and colleague from the Council of Goddesses, standing across the way. Johanna was dressed in a black leather overbust corset and matching tight skirt, her outfit showcasing the curves of her voluptuous figure, with teasing glimpses of her smooth, dark skin. Isabella made her way through the crowd in a fluid, zealous glide and approached Johanna.
“Johanna,” Isabella exclaimed as they exchanged kisses on each other’s cheek.
“Isabella, I believe you have met my new slave. I call him ‘Sissy Slut,’” Johanna said, gesturing to her companion, who stood beside her.
“Hmm, oh yes,” Isabella said, furrowing her brow with feigned uncertainty.
Sissy Slut had already had his first experience with Isabella, when she had caught him sniffing her underwear, made him wear panties for the very first time, and then given him a ruined orgasm. And even though he had already encountered her, she seemed to not even remember him. He presumed it was because she had teased and used so many slaves before. When in fact, Sissy Slut had made quite an impression on Isabella, but it was often her preference to pretend to not remember a slave after each of her first few encounters with him, as a means to make the slave feel inferior and to keep him vying for her attention.
By that point Sissy Slut had taken to wearing women’s undergarments at all times. And on the night of the Spero Kink Show, Johanna required him to wear nothing but a thick black leather collar with a leash attached, a black silk thong which she called his ‘slutty panties,’ and a pair of torn black fishnet stockings to accentuate his slutty look. His soft, bright green eyes leered at Isabella from behind the long bangs of his raven black hair. And he smiled at her with those rich lips of his, which were covered in the deep cherry red lipstick Johanna had instructed him to wear. Isabella continued her ruse, appearing not to notice or care, and she turned her attention to Johanna.
“So, Johanna, are you enjoying this little sissy?” Isabella asked.
“Yes, Isabella, I certainly am having fun with him,” Johanna responded, tugging on Sissy Slut’s leash.
“And what types of fun are you having with him?” Isabella asked with a smirk.
“This one is quite the tease and denial slut. So I have been having a great deal of fun with that. He told me that he has another fetish, besides sissification and tease and denial; it is a secret fetish that he will not tell anyone. I cannot seem to get him to confess to what it is,” Johanna said, which prompted Isabella to turn towards Sissy Slut.
“Sissy, why haven’t you told your Mistress about your other fetish?” Isabella asked, folding her arms over her chest in disapproval.
“I, um, I’m afraid to tell anyone. You see, Supreme Goddess, it is a fetish I have not yet tried. It is something I fantasize about, but I am far too frightened to actually do it. It is just, it is difficult to trust someone enough to, to tell them,” Sissy Slut stammered.
“Well, at some point we will have to get you to confess this secret fetish of yours,” Isabella said. “Goddess Johanna, it is good to see you, as always,” Isabella concluded, kissing Johanna on the cheek, and then she went about finding others to mingle with, once again ignoring Sissy Slut.
Isabella made her way through the crowd. Dignitaries from all across Artemisia were in attendance. There was Goddess Veronica, the Supreme Leader of Zanillo. There was Imperium Supreme Leader Alejandra, who was accompanied by her generals, General Suarez and General Callisto. And there was the recently elected Supreme Leader of Spero, a man by the name of Cleomenes. Cleomenes was the first male to be elected Supreme Leader of Spero, and was in fact one of the first men to be elected Supreme Leader of any city in the country of Artemisia. He was a tall and corpulent man in his seventies, with dreadful, tanned skin and ludicrous, orange tinted hair. He gave off a sort of arrogant professionalism, dressed in a black business suit and an unusually long red tie. Cleomenes was conversing with his slaves when Isabella approached, and he quickly disregarded the servants, extending his hand to Isabella.
“Goddess Isabella,” he greeted her with calculated eye contact and a firm handshake.
“Supreme Leader Cleomenes,” Isabella said. “I did not get a chance to welcome you properly at your first United Cities General Assembly.”
“Well thank you, Goddess Isabella,” Cleomenes responded, continuing the handshake until Isabella eventually let go of his hand.
“It certainly is nice to properly meet the new Supreme Leader of Spero. As you know, Femininus and Spero have been allies since the dawn of Artemisia. I am most certainly looking forward to us working together,” Isabella said with a reassuring nod.
“Yes,” Cleomenes said, picking up two glasses of champagne and handing one of them to Isabella. “To many, many more years as allies,” he said and the two of them brought the rims of their glasses together.
“So how are you handling the pressures of the job thus far?” Isabella asked, sipping her champagne.
“So far we have been doing a great, great job. We have put together the greatest administration Spero has ever seen. Our generals are all terrific. We are just great,” Cleomenes said, taking a sip of champagne as well.
“I must say, I am a bit concerned about the stance you have taken against Slave Ball players kneeling during the Spero anthem,” Isabella said.
“It’s like I said, they should stand for the anthem. And if not, they’re fired. They should find something else to do,” Cleomenes said, quickly shrugging his rotund shoulders with animated self-assurance.
“But in Artemisia we have always celebrated the freedom to protest. Those players are only kneeling to speak their minds in regards to racial bias and injustice. I hope you keep that in mind,” Isabella said.
“Those players should be made to always stand. Respect our flag and city. Now, I must be going Goddess Isabella,” Cleomenes said, gesturing his hands about, and then he rudely turned and walked away.
The audience members all took their seats for the second half of the show. The next act was a grand and profound display of fire play. The dimly lit space served as the perfect stage for the fire play act. A nude male slave positioned himself on his stomach on the table which sat in the center of the stage. The Mistress poured a flammable liquid onto her slave’s back, allowing the liquid to flow slowly out of the bottle in a smooth, provocative manner. She set her two fire wands ablaze and then she drummed the fire wands against the slaves back in a sensual rhythm. Sissy Slut and the other slaves in the audience watched with a curious desire and a tinge of fear. The slaves were as equally enthralled by the fetish as they had been those fetishes featured in the earlier acts of the evening.
In contrast, the next act was light and comedic, and involved a Mistress subjecting her bound sissy slave to tickle torture. The crowd guffawed along with the sissy, who could not stop himself from hysterically giggling as his Mistress tickled him unrelentingly. Although it seemed like a light form of play, those in attendance discovered at the end of the act just how torturous tickling could truly be, as the slave actually wept while begging his Mistress to stop.
It came time for the final act of the night. Carmen glided onto the stage dressed in a red lacy bra and matching panties as a string quartet sat to the side, playing an alluring musical piece. Her petite, delicate frame gave her the appearance of someone much younger than her thirty years of age. She had perfectly dark red hair, full lips, and brown eyes. She radiated sex. Her breasts were small and roundish; her ass was young and tight; her legs and her stomach were toned and fit.
Carmen suspended herself with rope for her act and she twirled and contorted to the music in sensual, acrobatic wonder. Next, a beautiful young woman dressed in a red lacy bra and matching panties identical to Carmen’s walked onto the stage. She proceeded to bind Carmen’s wrists in rope. Carmen struggled with the binds in a performance that was playful, and yet had a modicum of danger to it. The audience could not suppress the emotional and sexual excitement they felt as Carmen freed her wrists from the binds and her act reached its crescendo; and the music abruptly came to a finish as Carmen dangled completely upside down, a majestic and sexual Goddess, with her eyes closed and her fiery red hair hanging, flowing downward to the ground beneath her. And the crowd burst into applause.
After the show, Servant Stud approached Isabella’s table carrying two bouquets of roses, one white and the other red, his face matching the red roses as he blushed with worry.
“Goddess Isabella, I found out that Miss Carmen’s favorite flowers are roses, but I apologize, I did not find out which color she prefers. So I thought I would go ahead and buy both,” Servant Stud said as he knelt, presenting both bouquets to her.
“So, you decided to buy both?” Isabella said, her lips parting in disbelief and frustration.
“Yes, Goddess Isabella. I figured maybe you could give her both bouquets,” Servant Stud said, his nervous chest heaving in quick breaths.
“The point was so that I can impress her by giving her the exact flowers that she likes. Is slave stupid?” Isabella shouted.
“Yes Goddess, slave is stupid. And slave is sorry, so very sorry, Goddess Isabella,” Servant Stud said, becoming slightly aroused by that helpless sensation of submitting to her as she humiliated him.
Just then, Isabella noticed a handsome young stranger standing nearby, leering at her.
“You there,” Isabella said.
The young man looked around, confused and hesitant, and then he looked at Isabella.
“Me, Goddess Isabella?” he asked, and then he anxiously fixed his eyes to the ground.
“Oh, I see you have heard of me,” Isabella said, amused by his shyness.
“Yes, I have read all the stories and poems written about you,” the young man said.
“Tell me, do you have much knowledge of flowers?” Isabella asked.
“Yes, Goddess, as a matter of fact, I am an experienced gardener,” he said.
“Well then, experienced gardener. Choose,” Isabella said as she held both rose bouquets out toward him. The young man hesitantly looked up for a moment at the flowers, then stared back down at the ground.
“I’m not sure, Goddess. May I ask, what or who am I choosing them for?” he asked.
“I haven’t time to explain myself. Now choose,” Isabella said.
He hesitated a moment longer, and then he pointed to the bouquet of red roses.
“I choose the red ones, I suppose,” he said.
“Well, the experienced gardener chooses red. Let’s hope you’re right,” Isabella said.
Isabella placed the bouquet of white roses on the table. She brought the red roses to her nose and inhaled their scent. She then set the red roses to the side. The young man looked up for a moment and took notice of the grey handkerchief peeking out of the breast pocket of Isabella’s dress shirt.
“I rather like that handkerchief, Goddess,” he said.
“That is none of your business,” Isabella said, shifting her eyes nervously.
She then tucked the grey handkerchief down into her pocket, keeping it out of view. The young man stood in awkward silence, casting his eyes to the ground. After a few moments, Worm walked up to Isabella, carrying a bottle of wine. Worm dropped to his knees and presented the bottle to Isabella. She brought the bottle close to her face, inspecting the label.
“Worm, what is this? I told you specifically to purchase a bottle of Semillon, and you bring me Sauvignon Blanc. Spanking position, now,” Isabella commanded. “You slaves need to pay better attention to me,” she added.
Isabella was about to whip Worm when Servant Stud interrupted.
“Goddess, this is the correct wine. It is Semillon,” Servant Stud said.
Isabella grabbed the bottle from him and she carefully read the label.
“Well, so it Semillon after all. Worm, back up on your knees,” Isabella said. She then turned to Servant Stud, glaring at him. “Servant Stud, spanking position,” she said.
Worm moved over and Servant Stud took his place. Servant Stud reluctantly knelt before Isabella. He then positioned his head to the ground and lifted his masculine, toned ass upward. Isabella gripped her brow with her fingertips and she winced.
“You slaves give me a headache,” Isabella said. “Servant Stud, you will be punished for speaking out of turn, and for so rudely correcting your Mistress.”
Isabella proceeded to whip Servant Stud in front of the handsome young stranger. She took notice of the bulge in his dress slacks as he watched her beat the slave. She did not even look down at Servant Stud nor acknowledge him as she beat him, merely using him as a way to intimidate the young voyeuristic stranger who was watching. She could not take her eyes off of the young stranger’s sizeable, hungry cock as it bulged and twitched underneath his dress slacks. Whipping Servant Stud did not excite her so much; it was having such an innocent, timid young man watch her whip the slave that excited her. Once Isabella was finished with whipping the slave, she kicked him away with her stiletto boot. She continued conversing with the young man a bit longer until Servant Bull rushed up, interrupting them.
“Albatross,” Servant Bull quickly stated.
Isabella grabbed the bottle of Semillon and the red roses and she rushed off with Servant Bull. Servant Bull escorted her down the corridor which led to the backstage area. Isabella stalled for a moment and looked back, hoping that she would someday get to see the young man again, thinking to herself that he would make for a fun play thing. Her thoughts soon turned towards Carmen, and she walked briskly down the hall with Servant Bull at her side. They came to the backstage entrance and were met by a very large slave who guarded the door.
“The password is Albatross,” Isabella said, and the large slave moved to the side, gesturing Isabella to enter.
Isabella stopped at the door to Carmen’s dressing room. She quickly tousled her hair and adjusted the top of the grey handkerchief so that it was showing out of her breast pocket. She knocked a few times and waited. Carmen opened the door and stood completely nude in the doorway. She leaned against the doorframe, her naked body glistening with sweat, her roundish breasts swelling as she was still catching her breath from her performance.
“Hello, I am Supreme Goddess Isabella of Femininus. I wanted to tell you in person what a wonderful performance you gave tonight,” Isabella said, handing the red roses to her.
“Well, come on in,” Carmen welcomed with her raspy voice, raising her eyebrows as she eyed the grey handkerchief poking out of Isabella’s breast pocket.
Carmen grabbed Isabella by her dress shirt, pulling her into the dressing room. And the door closed behind them.
To be continued.....
THE DOMINATRIX ORDER: FEMDOM EROTICA 6
MISTRESSES TRUMP MEN
BY J.W. SMITH
There was an inexpressible excitement in the sweltering air on the night of the Annual Spero Kink Show, that feeling that something was going to happen. Goddess Isabella Verus, the Supreme Leader of Femininus, entered the room like a fantasy in the flesh. She ventured to the Spero Kink Show that evening determined to make the acquaintance of a performer by the name of Carmen. She had watched Carmen’s act months earlier at a show in the Artemisian city of Zanillo, and had become completely enamored with the young beauty. But Isabella would have another encounter that night that would come to change the course of Artemisian history.
Before Isabella had departed Femininus earlier that day, she had spoken to her three slaves, Servant Bull, Servant Stud, and Worm, in regards to meeting Carmen after the show.
“Slaves, I need each of you to perform a task for me while at the Spero Kink Show this evening. Servant Stud, you are to find out Miss Carmen’s favorite flowers and purchase them for me, so I can give them to her as a gift. Worm, you are to purchase a bottle of Semillon wine for me to give to the lady. And Servant Bull, you are to arrange for me to meet Miss Carmen backstage after the show. I believe we will need to find out what the password is in order for me to get backstage. Just notify them that you are the slave of Supreme Leader Isabella Verus, and I am certain they will tell you the password,” Isabella instructed and then dismissed the slaves away with a gesture of her hand.
Isabella arrived at the Annual Spero Kink Show dressed in a tight black ruched mini skirt with black silk stockings and a white button down dress shirt, leaving the top several buttons of it undone to show off her smooth gorgeous breasts, which were pushed up and on display thanks to her tight-fitting black pushup bra. She also made certain to leave her grey handkerchief peeking out of the left breast pocket of her dress shirt. It was somewhat common knowledge that the gay culture in Spero had employed what was called a handkerchief code. The color grey indicated that Isabella was into bondage, and the placement of the handkerchief in her left pocket signified that she was a top.
Many of those in attendance that night had seen Isabella before, but were nonetheless struck by her beauty; the way her piercing bright green eyes shimmered, the manner in which her blonde hair flowed down her shoulders and her cleavage, the subtle sway of her curvy hips and ass as she walked. She arrived with her three nude slaves in tow and they all found their way to the table reserved especially for her.
The Spero Kink Show was a wild, provocative affair. The first act consisted of a nude male slave who was tied to a table. A group of a half dozen Mistresses surrounded the slave. The Mistresses were dressed in black underbust corsets, matching lace panties, garters and stockings. They approached the slave; all of them holding lit red candles in their hands, their steps in unison. The first Mistress forced a ball gag into the slave’s mouth as he struggled. The Mistresses proceeded to pour the hot candle wax all over his vulnerable body; his sensitive nipples, his taut legs, and his smooth stomach were subjected to the singe of the wax. The slave became aroused and he pleaded to the Mistresses, asking them to touch his erect cock. They commanded him to beg over and over again, having him repeat the words “Please allow me to feel your warm touch.” They ended their act by pouring the wax from their candles down onto his poor, stiff, vulnerable cock. Looks of dismay washed over the faces of every slave in the audience as the Mistresses left the slave’s cock hungrily twitching, with the hot red wax wickedly pouring down the shaft.
The second act involved two male slaves who were bound to St Andrew’s crosses. Their two Mistresses appeared, dressed in matching black corsets, garters and stockings, and thongs. The Mistresses whipped and flogged the slaves with finesse, performing tricks as they twirled their whips and floggers, giving the crowd a flamboyant show.
The third act featured a Mistress who inserted various stainless steel butt plugs into her bound, helpless male slave’s anus. She began with the smallest butt plug, inserting it and then removing it with ease. She then thrust a much larger butt plug into him, causing the pain slut to squeal and squirm, and once she appeared to be pleased she then extracted the device. The butt plugs increased in size, and when she got to the very last one, it was so massive that the act’s finale wasn’t suited for the more timid, squeamish audience members.
Once the intermission commenced, Isabella’s slaves dispersed and went about completing their assigned tasks. Isabella found it to be the opportune time to mingle. She saw Johanna, her friend and colleague from the Council of Goddesses, standing across the way. Johanna was dressed in a black leather overbust corset and matching tight skirt, her outfit showcasing the curves of her voluptuous figure, with teasing glimpses of her smooth, dark skin. Isabella made her way through the crowd in a fluid, zealous glide and approached Johanna.
“Johanna,” Isabella exclaimed as they exchanged kisses on each other’s cheek.
“Isabella, I believe you have met my new slave. I call him ‘Sissy Slut,’” Johanna said, gesturing to her companion, who stood beside her.
“Hmm, oh yes,” Isabella said, furrowing her brow with feigned uncertainty.
Sissy Slut had already had his first experience with Isabella, when she had caught him sniffing her underwear, made him wear panties for the very first time, and then given him a ruined orgasm. And even though he had already encountered her, she seemed to not even remember him. He presumed it was because she had teased and used so many slaves before. When in fact, Sissy Slut had made quite an impression on Isabella, but it was often her preference to pretend to not remember a slave after each of her first few encounters with him, as a means to make the slave feel inferior and to keep him vying for her attention.
By that point Sissy Slut had taken to wearing women’s undergarments at all times. And on the night of the Spero Kink Show, Johanna required him to wear nothing but a thick black leather collar with a leash attached, a black silk thong which she called his ‘slutty panties,’ and a pair of torn black fishnet stockings to accentuate his slutty look. His soft, bright green eyes leered at Isabella from behind the long bangs of his raven black hair. And he smiled at her with those rich lips of his, which were covered in the deep cherry red lipstick Johanna had instructed him to wear. Isabella continued her ruse, appearing not to notice or care, and she turned her attention to Johanna.
“So, Johanna, are you enjoying this little sissy?” Isabella asked.
“Yes, Isabella, I certainly am having fun with him,” Johanna responded, tugging on Sissy Slut’s leash.
“And what types of fun are you having with him?” Isabella asked with a smirk.
“This one is quite the tease and denial slut. So I have been having a great deal of fun with that. He told me that he has another fetish, besides sissification and tease and denial; it is a secret fetish that he will not tell anyone. I cannot seem to get him to confess to what it is,” Johanna said, which prompted Isabella to turn towards Sissy Slut.
“Sissy, why haven’t you told your Mistress about your other fetish?” Isabella asked, folding her arms over her chest in disapproval.
“I, um, I’m afraid to tell anyone. You see, Supreme Goddess, it is a fetish I have not yet tried. It is something I fantasize about, but I am far too frightened to actually do it. It is just, it is difficult to trust someone enough to, to tell them,” Sissy Slut stammered.
“Well, at some point we will have to get you to confess this secret fetish of yours,” Isabella said. “Goddess Johanna, it is good to see you, as always,” Isabella concluded, kissing Johanna on the cheek, and then she went about finding others to mingle with, once again ignoring Sissy Slut.
Isabella made her way through the crowd. Dignitaries from all across Artemisia were in attendance. There was Goddess Veronica, the Supreme Leader of Zanillo. There was Imperium Supreme Leader Alejandra, who was accompanied by her generals, General Suarez and General Callisto. And there was the recently elected Supreme Leader of Spero, a man by the name of Cleomenes. Cleomenes was the first male to be elected Supreme Leader of Spero, and was in fact one of the first men to be elected Supreme Leader of any city in the country of Artemisia. He was a tall and corpulent man in his seventies, with dreadful, tanned skin and ludicrous, orange tinted hair. He gave off a sort of arrogant professionalism, dressed in a black business suit and an unusually long red tie. Cleomenes was conversing with his slaves when Isabella approached, and he quickly disregarded the servants, extending his hand to Isabella.
“Goddess Isabella,” he greeted her with calculated eye contact and a firm handshake.
“Supreme Leader Cleomenes,” Isabella said. “I did not get a chance to welcome you properly at your first United Cities General Assembly.”
“Well thank you, Goddess Isabella,” Cleomenes responded, continuing the handshake until Isabella eventually let go of his hand.
“It certainly is nice to properly meet the new Supreme Leader of Spero. As you know, Femininus and Spero have been allies since the dawn of Artemisia. I am most certainly looking forward to us working together,” Isabella said with a reassuring nod.
“Yes,” Cleomenes said, picking up two glasses of champagne and handing one of them to Isabella. “To many, many more years as allies,” he said and the two of them brought the rims of their glasses together.
“So how are you handling the pressures of the job thus far?” Isabella asked, sipping her champagne.
“So far we have been doing a great, great job. We have put together the greatest administration Spero has ever seen. Our generals are all terrific. We are just great,” Cleomenes said, taking a sip of champagne as well.
“I must say, I am a bit concerned about the stance you have taken against Slave Ball players kneeling during the Spero anthem,” Isabella said.
“It’s like I said, they should stand for the anthem. And if not, they’re fired. They should find something else to do,” Cleomenes said, quickly shrugging his rotund shoulders with animated self-assurance.
“But in Artemisia we have always celebrated the freedom to protest. Those players are only kneeling to speak their minds in regards to racial bias and injustice. I hope you keep that in mind,” Isabella said.
“Those players should be made to always stand. Respect our flag and city. Now, I must be going Goddess Isabella,” Cleomenes said, gesturing his hands about, and then he rudely turned and walked away.
The audience members all took their seats for the second half of the show. The next act was a grand and profound display of fire play. The dimly lit space served as the perfect stage for the fire play act. A nude male slave positioned himself on his stomach on the table which sat in the center of the stage. The Mistress poured a flammable liquid onto her slave’s back, allowing the liquid to flow slowly out of the bottle in a smooth, provocative manner. She set her two fire wands ablaze and then she drummed the fire wands against the slaves back in a sensual rhythm. Sissy Slut and the other slaves in the audience watched with a curious desire and a tinge of fear. The slaves were as equally enthralled by the fetish as they had been those fetishes featured in the earlier acts of the evening.
In contrast, the next act was light and comedic, and involved a Mistress subjecting her bound sissy slave to tickle torture. The crowd guffawed along with the sissy, who could not stop himself from hysterically giggling as his Mistress tickled him unrelentingly. Although it seemed like a light form of play, those in attendance discovered at the end of the act just how torturous tickling could truly be, as the slave actually wept while begging his Mistress to stop.
It came time for the final act of the night. Carmen glided onto the stage dressed in a red lacy bra and matching panties as a string quartet sat to the side, playing an alluring musical piece. Her petite, delicate frame gave her the appearance of someone much younger than her thirty years of age. She had perfectly dark red hair, full lips, and brown eyes. She radiated sex. Her breasts were small and roundish; her ass was young and tight; her legs and her stomach were toned and fit.
Carmen suspended herself with rope for her act and she twirled and contorted to the music in sensual, acrobatic wonder. Next, a beautiful young woman dressed in a red lacy bra and matching panties identical to Carmen’s walked onto the stage. She proceeded to bind Carmen’s wrists in rope. Carmen struggled with the binds in a performance that was playful, and yet had a modicum of danger to it. The audience could not suppress the emotional and sexual excitement they felt as Carmen freed her wrists from the binds and her act reached its crescendo; and the music abruptly came to a finish as Carmen dangled completely upside down, a majestic and sexual Goddess, with her eyes closed and her fiery red hair hanging, flowing downward to the ground beneath her. And the crowd burst into applause.
After the show, Servant Stud approached Isabella’s table carrying two bouquets of roses, one white and the other red, his face matching the red roses as he blushed with worry.
“Goddess Isabella, I found out that Miss Carmen’s favorite flowers are roses, but I apologize, I did not find out which color she prefers. So I thought I would go ahead and buy both,” Servant Stud said as he knelt, presenting both bouquets to her.
“So, you decided to buy both?” Isabella said, her lips parting in disbelief and frustration.
“Yes, Goddess Isabella. I figured maybe you could give her both bouquets,” Servant Stud said, his nervous chest heaving in quick breaths.
“The point was so that I can impress her by giving her the exact flowers that she likes. Is slave stupid?” Isabella shouted.
“Yes Goddess, slave is stupid. And slave is sorry, so very sorry, Goddess Isabella,” Servant Stud said, becoming slightly aroused by that helpless sensation of submitting to her as she humiliated him.
Just then, Isabella noticed a handsome young stranger standing nearby, leering at her.
“You there,” Isabella said.
The young man looked around, confused and hesitant, and then he looked at Isabella.
“Me, Goddess Isabella?” he asked, and then he anxiously fixed his eyes to the ground.
“Oh, I see you have heard of me,” Isabella said, amused by his shyness.
“Yes, I have read all the stories and poems written about you,” the young man said.
“Tell me, do you have much knowledge of flowers?” Isabella asked.
“Yes, Goddess, as a matter of fact, I am an experienced gardener,” he said.
“Well then, experienced gardener. Choose,” Isabella said as she held both rose bouquets out toward him. The young man hesitantly looked up for a moment at the flowers, then stared back down at the ground.
“I’m not sure, Goddess. May I ask, what or who am I choosing them for?” he asked.
“I haven’t time to explain myself. Now choose,” Isabella said.
He hesitated a moment longer, and then he pointed to the bouquet of red roses.
“I choose the red ones, I suppose,” he said.
“Well, the experienced gardener chooses red. Let’s hope you’re right,” Isabella said.
Isabella placed the bouquet of white roses on the table. She brought the red roses to her nose and inhaled their scent. She then set the red roses to the side. The young man looked up for a moment and took notice of the grey handkerchief peeking out of the breast pocket of Isabella’s dress shirt.
“I rather like that handkerchief, Goddess,” he said.
“That is none of your business,” Isabella said, shifting her eyes nervously.
She then tucked the grey handkerchief down into her pocket, keeping it out of view. The young man stood in awkward silence, casting his eyes to the ground. After a few moments, Worm walked up to Isabella, carrying a bottle of wine. Worm dropped to his knees and presented the bottle to Isabella. She brought the bottle close to her face, inspecting the label.
“Worm, what is this? I told you specifically to purchase a bottle of Semillon, and you bring me Sauvignon Blanc. Spanking position, now,” Isabella commanded. “You slaves need to pay better attention to me,” she added.
Isabella was about to whip Worm when Servant Stud interrupted.
“Goddess, this is the correct wine. It is Semillon,” Servant Stud said.
Isabella grabbed the bottle from him and she carefully read the label.
“Well, so it Semillon after all. Worm, back up on your knees,” Isabella said. She then turned to Servant Stud, glaring at him. “Servant Stud, spanking position,” she said.
Worm moved over and Servant Stud took his place. Servant Stud reluctantly knelt before Isabella. He then positioned his head to the ground and lifted his masculine, toned ass upward. Isabella gripped her brow with her fingertips and she winced.
“You slaves give me a headache,” Isabella said. “Servant Stud, you will be punished for speaking out of turn, and for so rudely correcting your Mistress.”
Isabella proceeded to whip Servant Stud in front of the handsome young stranger. She took notice of the bulge in his dress slacks as he watched her beat the slave. She did not even look down at Servant Stud nor acknowledge him as she beat him, merely using him as a way to intimidate the young voyeuristic stranger who was watching. She could not take her eyes off of the young stranger’s sizeable, hungry cock as it bulged and twitched underneath his dress slacks. Whipping Servant Stud did not excite her so much; it was having such an innocent, timid young man watch her whip the slave that excited her. Once Isabella was finished with whipping the slave, she kicked him away with her stiletto boot. She continued conversing with the young man a bit longer until Servant Bull rushed up, interrupting them.
“Albatross,” Servant Bull quickly stated.
Isabella grabbed the bottle of Semillon and the red roses and she rushed off with Servant Bull. Servant Bull escorted her down the corridor which led to the backstage area. Isabella stalled for a moment and looked back, hoping that she would someday get to see the young man again, thinking to herself that he would make for a fun play thing. Her thoughts soon turned towards Carmen, and she walked briskly down the hall with Servant Bull at her side. They came to the backstage entrance and were met by a very large slave who guarded the door.
“The password is Albatross,” Isabella said, and the large slave moved to the side, gesturing Isabella to enter.
Isabella stopped at the door to Carmen’s dressing room. She quickly tousled her hair and adjusted the top of the grey handkerchief so that it was showing out of her breast pocket. She knocked a few times and waited. Carmen opened the door and stood completely nude in the doorway. She leaned against the doorframe, her naked body glistening with sweat, her roundish breasts swelling as she was still catching her breath from her performance.
“Hello, I am Supreme Goddess Isabella of Femininus. I wanted to tell you in person what a wonderful performance you gave tonight,” Isabella said, handing the red roses to her.
“Well, come on in,” Carmen welcomed with her raspy voice, raising her eyebrows as she eyed the grey handkerchief poking out of Isabella’s breast pocket.
Carmen grabbed Isabella by her dress shirt, pulling her into the dressing room. And the door closed behind them.
To be continued.....
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