I turned back, stepping through the door and letting it
close behind me. Inside the door I removed my panties. I put them on over my garters earlier.
Walking back I cheerily asked, "Are you thirsty, dear?" Receiving no reply I continued, "Remember
when I said I didn't bring the key to that gag all those hours ago? Well darling, I lied! It's
fortuitous but it appears I have the key after all! You now have opportunity to please me with that
lovely painted mouth and that well-practiced tongue. Imagine my delight to find it in my purse
rather than in my bag where it belongs!" I retrieved a cloth and towel from the bath and wet the
cloth. Stepping before her, and having to reposition the barstool to do so, I sat, my groin a
fraction of an inch from her nose. I turned the lock up, stabbed the key in, turned it open, and
worked it free. I loosed the strap, releasing it. The ball, large as it was, had to be worked free.
Her jaw had been clamped upon it that long. Bound as she was the saliva collected behind the ball
and was released into the towel upon release of the ball. I put the cool compress to the back of
her neck and watched the chill run down her spine. She worked her jaw back and forth to loosen it.
She swallowed and gagged on it a little. She didn't speak. I gave her a few moments then spoke,
"Close your mouth, dear." I threw the towel aside and reaching down to my shins began folding my
hems back as I drew them up revealing my heels, hose, and garters. When my weeping love canal came
into view I stopped. I picked up the Contax, newly reloaded with the last roll of film, and a 40mm
Zeiss lens now affixed to the front, I pointed it down and framed. I exhorted her to "Look up here,
dear," and when her hair draped face was in profile I took the shot of it all. The pose, explicitly
suggestive of the upcoming activity, served to enflame my passions further until I could wait no
more for cunalingual bliss. I reached down and pushing down on the cloth still at the back of her
neck, pushed her beyond the point of balance so she fell into me, burying both her mouth and nose
in my hot wet snatch. The hood over my love button retracted immediately and in an effort to assure
clear nostrils she brushed over it sending a shiver up my spine. When the panic wore off, she
settled into an unseemly circuit. Her cantilevered form was literally standing en point due to my
imaginative bonds and the circumstance of disequalized posture. Two points of support, tortured
toes and smothered face, were the only thing keeping her upright. Her bound form could find no
purchase to push her backward and as closely bound as it was could produce no momentum to rock her
back to the tentative equilibrium she had enjoyed moments before. The bonds and my thighs prevented
her rocking herself to the side so she could fall to the floor and find escape. The only muscle
available to assure her survival was her tongue. To create clearance to breathe, she had to place
her tongue atop my clitoris and push off. After a moment either her saliva or my own lubrication
caused her tongue to slip over my love button and down into my weeping love canal. To restart the
circuit she had to purse and reposition her lips, the sensation of which was delicious, to work her
mouth up over my clit. The incremental movements up the labia were punctuated by the necessity to
create a vacuum within her mouth to secure her current position on the climb up my groin to my
clit. My exclamations at this sensation? "Oh, darling, that is incredibly... Oh! Ah! That's right,
hoover up every last drop. When I stand I had better wear a dry skirt." When she reached the top
and tongued my clit again, she could push off and catch a few moments breath before her tongue
slipped back down starting the circuit again, and again, ...and again. Slow, easy, build-up,
stunning climax, and repeat. Repeat. Repeat. This was a humiliation that probably would break my
rule about repeating them. I try not to do any two alike. Variety is, after all, the spice of life.
However I have two, perhaps now three, humiliations which for my own pleasure I cause to recur. I
let this go on until I couldn't stand it any longer, even though she seemed "willing" to continue
indefinitely. After an hour and a half I pushed her back to her earlier tortured stance. She licked
my love juice from her lips and the end of her nose. "Well, dear, thank you!" I allowed. It's time
to punish you for your failures earlier. What were the failures I noted, dear?" "Mistress, for my
failures I am eternally sorry. I failed to do as required and deserve any manner of punishment you
desire. I submit this body to chasten. First, against direction, I shredded the tissue under my
feet earlier. I am sorry. Second, I let my hems fall while you were attempting to photograph that
which was below them. Again, I am sorry. For these and all errors of form, demeanor, or decorum, I
sincerely apologize. Please, punish me as you see fit," she recited, on cue, and as practiced
numerous times before. "Very well, dear. Just how should this punishment take place? Hmmmm?" She
kept silent while I pondered the question. I reached down and pulled up her hems in the back and
held them up under her bound hands trapping the hems between the hand bondage and her spine. I
removed from my bag another thong I used to bind her ankles to a higher rung on the chair, so
cinching it caused her to stand en pointe. "Very well, wench. You must stand in this manner without
dropping your hems until I come back and you are subsequently switched until your thighs and
buttocks are red with welts. Drop your hems and I'll raise those welts with the hardtail whip.
Understand?" Behind her now I undressed and walked back to the bath and stepped in for a quick
shower. After soaping up and rinsing I stepped out and checked on her while I dried and dressed
again. I relaxed crossed legged on the bed and turned on the room's entertainment center to tune a
local radio station. There I waited for the concierge to return. Two hours and twenty minutes after
leaving he called from the main desk, "I'm back. These pictures are awesome. You could be a
professional photographer, you know." My reply was sincerely sarcastic, "Gee, do you think?" "Yeah,
I do, ...ohhh, I get it. Yeah, you have some excellent work here. Shall I bring these prints to you
now?" He caught on quick, faster than I expected. Maybe he could help me in another way? "Yes,
bring them now please. Maybe there's another matter you could help me with. We can discuss it when
you get here." I put the switch together. I buried the shank into the handle's ferrule and swatted
the bed a couple of times with it. At about three feet long it whined in the wind when swung and
would snap viciously when applied to that ass. I was looking forward to this. So far she hadn't
dropped the hems of her skirts. Good thing for her, too. All the same it seemed it should ache
awfully jamming those boards into the small of her back that way. I few moments latter I heard his
knock at the door. I grabbed up the key and the switch and went out to him. Closing the door behind
me I stood straight while addressing him. "Since you raved about the photos I'm presuming that
there's no charge for the developing services?" "No charge! This story is way too good," he
replied. "I take it your associate liked her copies, too." I asked. He said, "Yes she did, thank
you." "In a few moments, I'll go inside and review her work. I take it you believe I'll like them
also?" I asked. "I'm sure you will," he replied. "She's the best photo- finisher in this and three
surrounding counties!" "Good!" I replied to the comment. "Now onto this other matter. How would you
and your photofinishing friend like a little hands on with my tortured subject in there." "Are you
kidding? You're not kidding? Wow, I think I'd like that a lot. Hard telling what she might say.
Shall I call and ask?" he queried. "Yes do, and if she's willing, the two of you come back in forty
five minutes. You'll find the door open. Just walk in, but don't say a word. I'll make it obvious
what I want you to do when you walk through the door. OK? By the way, you don't have any qualms
about punishing her if I ask, corporally I mean?" I asked. "OK? Yeah it's OK, and thanks. No I
don't mind striking a blow for discipline's sake." He replied. "You realize that whatever you do in
there you must do at my direction, no ad-libs?" I asked. He replied, "I understand, ...now." "Good.
Just remember it when you return. Let your friend know, too. In about 45 minutes then?" "Yes,
mame," he replied. I turned the key in the lock and walked back in. I walked back to her and
massaged those aching calf muscles and offered up some encouragement. "You're bearing up well,
dear. I want you to know that you are very beautiful posed this way. The concierge said,
'beautiful,' himself when he peeked in at you through the open door earlier." Her blush rose. "This
all will come to an end soon enough, then we get to your submission and your just reward. Soon,
dear." I shot several more frames of her, and the bonds, and her now exposed make-up smeared face.
The radio continued to play love songs from the easy listening station. I washed the kitchenette
table and let it dry. Retrieving the photos from the bed I laid them out and took an appraising
look. It was going to be hard choosing twelve. Turns out the pictures were everything I wanted them
to be, and more. When you're a good photographer you obviously expect a high yield of decent
pictures. On average I get seven of every ten saleable pictures as a mean. The yield on these was
19 of 20. Good photographer or no, it pays to have someone to photograph. The perspective changes,
the lens selections, all of it came together just as I had envisioned. If she submitted all the
pictures I liked I don't believe for an instant she'd attain the number of orgasms she earned on
our trip home. Just wouldn't be enough time. It looked as if my pleasure would be sacrificed, but
she had done very well. Proof of this was the fact that neither party viewing the photos had
commented on any aspect of gender mismatch. I pawed and perused the selections and after twenty
minutes decided on 12 I could pick to break up the continuity of the story line and make her
selections more difficult. Even so, there weren't but three or four in the count of 250 photo's I
could in good conscience refuse. There were perhaps eight or ten that might be considered
borderline. I retrieved the ball gag, cleaned it up, and went back to her. "Dear, I've invited a
couple of visitors. The concierge is one. The other you've yet to meet. I'm afraid that if you
speak you may give away your secret. I'm going to re-gag you. If they find you gagged they won't
try to speak with you." "As you wish, Mistress," was the reply. Gently, so as not to disturb the
delicate balance I had produced, I re-inserted the ball and wrapped the strap around her head.
Gently I latched and locked it around her head. "There, that should help us keep your secret." I
settled back on the bed, with the twelve photos I chose, to await our guests. I hummed along to the
tunes on the radio enjoying the respite and pondered mitigating the unprecedented awarding of
pleasure I must surely concede to my submissive sex slave. The more thought I gave it, the more I
liked the idea of letting her try multiple orgasms. What were my requirements of her? That she
exhibit feminine behavior? She'd done that to my satisfaction. That she submit? Obey? Comply? She'd
done all that! Trust? She showed no sign of distrust or reluctance. The only failures were the
physical ones, for which shortly she was to pay in submission and ignominy. She'd done almost all I
asked and seemed entirely willing to subjugate herself to my will, at least up to the exception of
the helmet. I could hardly blame her reaction to it. It was designed to look frightening.
Frightening enough that I made well sure of her bonds before revealing it to her. The errors I was
punishing were minor at worst. She was paying handsomely for them. Why shouldn't I reward her just
as extravagantly as I punish her? I had the means for the extraordinary reward. In my thoughts I
settled it there. She could have as many as she could muster on the way home. I'd make her pay for
them by requiring she walk out of here in the bonds that were necessary for completion of her
reward. With that determined, I lay back and rested my eyes. I soon nodded off to be awoken by the
concierge tapping at the door. I hadn't left it open as I said precipitating the soft knock. I woke
mad at myself that it took a knock to rouse me. I lay the switches at the end of the bed, grabbed
the keys and walked to the door. I took a deep breath, waited for the next knock, then opened the
door, stepping out. "Sorry," I began, "I fell asleep waiting. I appreciate your willingness to
assist me disciplining my sex slave." "My dear," I continued, addressing the young woman with the
concierge, "I looked at your work and am suitably impressed with your quality. Thank you for a fine
job. Do you have a card, I might like to use you again." She opened her purse and expertly
retrieved a card from within. Harding it to me she replied quietly, "Thank you, but, I must say you
made it easy for me. The chore required very little dodging or burning. Exposures were also very
consistent. You are obviously a very good photographer." "Well, thank you," I replied. "Now,
proclaiming the convocation of this meeting of the mutual admiration society, down to business. I
think it best that if you don't already know my identity I not to reveal it. This is not so much
for myself, but for my slave within. I'm sure you understand. "Marguerite, I realize this puts you
at a disadvantage. You may refer to me as Mistress and to my slave as 'slave' or 'wench,' should
the need arise. Within she is bound with her ass in the air and the back hems of her skirts hoisted
up revealing it. There is a strap buried between her cheeks from a chastity belt. In her backside
is an anal stimulator doing its job maintaining an elevated level of sexual arousal. In the front
is an inflatable toy I use to trigger orgasm. She is of course gagged. She'll not speak
intelligibly. If you do well and she comes to orgasm, at my direction, I'll un-gag her and require
her to gratify you both orally if you chose. If so and you require suitable protection you do not
have, I have available an assortment within that should suffice.

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" I continued "You're here to
punish her. The nature of this punishment is switching. At the foot of the bed you will find
leather switches about three feet long. Top and bottom of the switch I think obvious. Enter, take
up a switch, and position yourselves to either side of her exposed ass opposite each other. I will
signal by pointing. When I do you may strike at her ass with the switch. You needn't add much
'english' to the swing. A three-foot switch will raise welts with any normal swing. You'll be
striking intermittently at first but as we proceed I'll signal to strike faster and faster. The end
result should be a thoroughly scourged ass and her orgasm. Trust me you'll know when it comes.
O.K.!" Seeing each nod I went on, "Should she drop the hems we will stop, letting the stimulation
subside. We will raise the hems again and restart from the beginning. I do not expect we'll need
restart. Presuming we don't, the whole process should take an hour and a quarter. She'll have a
difficult time getting any kind of good look at you however, if you like, I have masks within I can
bring back to you now, before we begin. Understand?" They both nodded! "Masks?" I queried. They
both shook their heads. "Protection?" I queried again. The concierge nodded his head yes but,
surprisingly, Marguerite shook her head no. I thought about recommending it again but her look,
straight and level, let me know she knew what she was about. "O.K.," I said, "let's go to it." I
opened the door and we walked in. They went to the foot of the bed and picked up a switch. Each
swung a switch creating a high pitched whistle as the ends cut the air. I spoke to my slave as this
went on. "Oh, Dear, our guests are here. You should prepare for your switching, it doesn't end
until you cum. Remember, don't let your hems fall, lest we let things settle out only to lift them
and start over again. I know you can't speak to tell us you're ready, so we'll just let you know
when we are." My assistants took their places behind my slave's upended derriere and poised
themselves to strike blows at my behest. I held my fingers up and thrust the left at the concierge
and the right at Marguerite, indicating to each which finger I associated with each of them. Then I
pointed at both. The blows landed near simultaneously. Her cheeks reacted violently, the muscles
fluttered, and angry red marks appeared. A loud, yet muffled, "uhmfff!" passed her gag, but she
didn't move, at which I marveled. She continued to twitch the muscles in her reddening rump for
several minutes after the initial blows were struck, in anticipation of the next blow. We just
watched until she settled down. Then, to each, I pointed to the backs of my own thighs indicating
where to strike the next blows. Alternately I pointed at first one then the other, and each landed
blows on cue. They landed with sharp distinctive "snaps" as her flesh rippled at each. We kept up a
slow rhythm as more and more of her thighs reddened and warmed. After five minutes I slowed the
rhythm even more because I wanted her to live in anticipation of the blows. My silent assistants
had no trouble keeping up with my "digital" indications. After five minutes I allowed a flurry of
blows to land on her ass again before returning to the less frequent blows to her thighs. I
modulated between the two forms for another thirty minutes before stopping a few moments to place
my hands on her red mottled overheated flesh. The relative chill that was my touch caused a
different reaction. I brushed my "cool" palms over her hot ass and thighs a few moments to allow a
short breather. Her breath was ragged by this time so I allowed it to settle to a more regular
rhythm before returning to my indications to regular rhythm of switch snaps on thigh. 50 minutes
had passed when I swapped over to a slow regular beat of blows to her ass cheeks. As we progressed
we gradually increased the speed of these blows until after ten minutes my assistants were landing
them at three-quarter second intervals. They just couldn't coordinate to land them any faster.
Finally after 67 minutes her legs spasmed and she strained at the bonds about her waist indicating
her orgasm. I signaled to my assistants to stop. They pulled back toward me a respectable distance
and then moved to the foot of the bed where they laid down their switches and waited. I went to the
kitchen and started the cold water flowing, throwing a towel in the basin to wet. I reached up for
a towel on the bar and dried my hands. Then I opened the freezer door and pulled out a tray of ice
cubes. I inverted the tray and ran it under the water. I wanted to work quickly. The ice melted
partially and the cubes fell from the tray onto the wet towel "thunking" on the stainless steel.
When the last had fallen I shut off the water, collected up the ends of the towel and lifted it out
of the sink, ice and all. I twisted the end wringing what water I could from the towel. I opened
the cabinet door and quickly spotted the bowls taking one down. I put the towel and ice in the bowl
and went back to my slave. On the way I pointed at the other two and with my free hand pointed at
my eyes with my index and medius fingers, indicating they should watch what followed. "Dear?," I
asked. She turned her head to me. "Does it hurt?" She nodded her head. "We need thank our guests.
Are you willing to pleasure them?" She shook her head. "Oh, come now, we simply couldn't disappoint
them. You need show your gratitude after what they've done for you. If you would show yourself to
be more willing I might work to cool this hot ass, and, let you come yet again." She thought it
over a few moments then nodded her head yes, consenting, and submitting yet again. In return I kept
my promise. I reached up and ran my finger under the retaining strap of her chastity belt at the
top of her as cheeks. I reached into the towel in the bowl and extracted a single ice cube. Quickly
I inserted the cube under the strap and forced it down the divide between her cheeks until it
firmly seated next to the anal stimulator. The ice melted with the heat of a baking, abused ass as
well as an overheated libido, running around the shaft of the stimulator, still running, triggering
the anus to oscillate, first gripping then releasing then repeating. This in turn triggered an
instantaneous orgasm. The muscles in her legs spasmed, as did her other love muscle, and she
strained at the waist bonds again until I felt certain the thong would tear. The sensations lasted
until the ice melted at which point she collapsed over the chair, fainting. The other two were so
impressed with my cruelty they clapped while they laughed out loud. I stood and bowed in
gratification. Turning my attentions back to my now clearly abused slave I went to the desk and
retrieved the key to release the gag. I moved quickly, stabbing the key into the padlock, twisting
it to release the lock with a click and twisting the lock apart in one motion. I pulled the padlock
from the strap lock pin while holding the key. Dropping the lock to the floor, I pried the strap
loose and unlatched the gag strap. As the straps fell away I reached up for the towel I used
earlier when I pulled the gag then. I held the towel under her head as I picked at the gag allowing
it and all the stored up saliva dammed behind to fall into the towel. I wiped at her mouth as I
gently slapped at her cheek in an attempt to revive her. It took a minute before she showed signs
of coming to. I stopped slapping but kept dabbing at her lips. In a few more moments she came back
to consciousness with a groan, "Aaaahhhhooooowwwwwww." Uncomfortable with her posture she
straightened a little crying out, "Ohhh, you bitch," in a squeak. A little more aware she began
looking around, "I think you sprained my...," her eyes settled on the legs of our guests,
"...clit," she squeaked further, catching herself before she gave away her secret. I walked back to
the foot of the bed reaching between my guests for one of the switches. In hand I strode back to my
slave and let her have it hard. "Yeeeeeeeeoooow!," she screamed out loud, "what was that for." "You
forget yourself slave, speaking out loud. You called me a bitch! You are in some sore need of
remedial anger management training. Perhaps I should let our guests have at you again, only this
time I won't reign in the blows. How would you like that?" I asked. "No, please! Not that! Please!"
she squeaked out. "Then shut up, and see to it you do not embarrass me with this ill advised
behavior again!" It is best to be firm with your slaves, don't you think? Disrespect will rear its
ugly head, repeatedly, and at the most inopportune time at that. One simply can't let that pass.
"Yes, of course, Mistress. I now see the error of my way. Please forgive me," she uttered, and was
then silent. I let it pass. If need be, I could discipline her latter for her outburst. I did over
do the beating a little. The follow-up was a little cruel to, though I'd not admit it to her.
"Please our guests dear, and all will be forgiven," I spoke soothingly. She replied in a whisper,
"Thank you, Mistress. I will try to please our guests as you command." I turned back to Marguerite
and said, "Well then, who will be first to pleasure?" She and the concierge conferred a moment and
the concierge called out, "I will." I went to the nightstand and removed a box of assorted condoms,
then spilled the contents out on the bed. From where he stood at the foot of the bed he rummaged
through the selections a moment finding one to his liking. He took it with him to the chair before
my slave. Seating himself comfortably he allowed her to start. She warmed him up and as his manhood
stiffened he pulled away long enough to start to sheath it. "Slave," he commanded, "use this
opportunity to entice me. Roll this down my shaft. Make it feel good." I moved to the foot of the
bed sitting down to watch. I turned to Marguerite and motioned for her to sit. Taking me up on my
offer she opened the conversation with a quiet query, "How long have you been doing this to him?" I
turned to her and just as quietly replied, "About four years. You were perceptive to pick up the
gender. I didn't think we gave anything away." "It's the physical size," she said, "though bent
into that position you make it much harder to tell. Frankly I'm surprised. Your photos reveal
nothing of this info." "Do you think your friend knows?" I asked. "I don't think he's thought much
about it. This far along I can tell you, if he doesn't know he won't know." answered Marguerite.
"Do you think knowing would make a difference to him?" I queried further. "I don't know," she
answered. "Please don't tell him though. I'd like to reveal it to him myself, presuming he doesn't
know." "What's between you?" I queried, opening the conversation a little further. "You and he
thinking about pursuing the lifestyle?" "We do. He and I trade off. We spend our weekends tying
each other up," She answered wistfully. "Not satisfying?" I asked. "Not anymore," she answered. "We
both like to dominate. What about you two?" "This is pretty much the way it is. We have a plain
vanilla sexual relationship most of the time. I let 'her' out for special occasions. This munch,
for instance. He likes tied up and humiliated, but has a business and reputation to maintain. So,
for the last five years it's been long weekends and planned events like these." "You enjoy keeping
him then?" she asked. "Keeping him, hmmmm, never thought about it that way. For me it's more about
testing 'her.' Until recently I don't believe I even liked 'her.' This weekend has done more than
any other to change my mind. I don't know, but, maybe, I have a mean streak coursing through me
that is just now finding release. I've done more planning for this weekend than for any other
before it. I've made every test lead to the next. I've made every humiliation just a little harder
to except than the last. I've done more testing this weekend than ever before. It all leads up to
the last humiliation. Tonight she must walk out of here suffering her bonds and the clothes she
wears." "This last test, is it make or break for the two of you?" she asked. My reply was, "I don't
know." "I just don't know," I repeated a moment latter. The conversation ended there. Her partner,
the concierge, was about to explode in my slave's vacuum hose of a throat. "Yeah, baby, that's
great. Faster. Faster. Oh, yes, yes, ahhhhhhhhhh!" As he released his load the reservoir of the
condom filled precipitously quick. She choked on it. This only served to increase his stimulation
and he deposited even more in the reservoir. "Ahhh, double-cum," he cried out. "Never ...had
...that ...done to me! So good, it hurts!" She just choked until he pulled out, then coughed
repeatedly to clear her throat. The condom he selected appeared to have been too small and the
reservoir had ballooned at the end. The view was quite obscene, even for jaded females like us. We
turned to each other and simultaneously exclaimed "Eeeeuuuuwwww!" He looked down, grabbed at the
base, and quickly strode to the bath out of sight. A few moments later we heard water running. A
few moments after that, the toilet flushed. I turned to Marguerite and quietly said, "I think it
safe to say my slave's performance was satisfactory." She just laughed. "Your turn, mademoiselle,"
I offered. "Thank you, Madame. If it's all the same to you I will pass. There's only one I want
licking and probing me there," said Marguerite. "Are you sure I can't entice you?" I offered
tentatively. "She can provide superb pleasures, as I can attest." "Having witnessed for myself, I'm
certain you're correct. However, I would decline," she returned solicitously. "I'm sorry you chose
not to partake, you'll miss a momentous event," I said, disappointed. The concierge emerged from
the bath with a visage of supreme satiation plastered to his face. Marguerite changed her demeanor
instantly with a flash of anger, "I hope you haven't spent yourself. You know it's my turn to rule
this week." "I know," he spoke dejectedly. Turning to me he said, "I worry your slave may have
ruined me. It will cost me with Marguerite. Still, I enjoyed that immensely. I simply can't thank
you enough." "You're welcome," I said. "I'm pleased you enjoyed yourself. I'm sure Marguerite has
plans and I will not keep you. Thank you both for participating." I showed them both to the door,
thanked them again, and let them go. 

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