A Mansion Weekend Pt3: Femdom Fiction

The divine Mistress Vivienne l’Amore

A Mansion Weekend Pt3: Femdom Fiction

A little later there was a gentle knock on the door and a maid appeared. She was a sweet girl whom I had not previously seen.  At first she sat next to me on the bed. Temptingly close. She told me that I would enjoy the party and that she was sent to help me prepare. She said she thought I would be very satisfactory although she didn’t say what I would be satisfactory for or at. I would, she added, satisfy Mistress Sidonia’s special guests. Then, after caressing my figure through my blouse her hand slipped into my knickers where she found my erection awaiting her. She brought it fully to attention but her intention was only to further my frustration.

She helped me undress and then carefully wiped away the remains of the morning’s makeup. We would start again. She led me by my erection to the shower where she told me to face the wall and place my hands above my head. In one swift movement she caught the base of the buttplug and it was gone – I felt a wave pass through my body and was pleased that I had not had to do that for myself. I would have approached the task much more timidly and probably quite a bit more painfully. I turned to thank her and she slowly undressed. Nothing false, just perfectly shaped and evenly tanned, the kind of body that men fantasise about. We entered the shower and she soaped me from top to bottom, but gently pushed my hand away when I thought to try and reciprocate.

Patted dry, she sat me at the mirror and brushed my blonde hair and helped me apply the false eyelashes that sat upon the desk. Then she provided a steady hand as my face took on a much more sultry look, appropriate to a night of …whatever Mistress Sidonia had decided I should be satisfactory for. She applied perfume and the makeup was complete with the third application of a deep red to my lips, darker and fuller than I had worn before but which she deemed more suitable for the party atmosphere.

She helped me dress. My seamed stockings became fishnets, there were elbow length gloves to match and a stiff but discreet leather collar stitched to match the corset which she pulled every bit as tight as the Mistresses had managed the yesterday. All the other shoes had gone, leaving just the perspex and stainless steel stilettos, but before she knelt at my feet to secure the straps she chose a butt plug. Number eleven which she generously lubricated. I bent forward and she slowly and gently pressed it into place. Whilst now well stretched over the past day and a half, number eleven was beginning to take me beyond the realms of comfort, perhaps beyond the realm of possibility. I am sure I convulsed momentarily as it slipped home but it took only brief moments to come to terms with its bulk inside me. Finally she helped me into my gown. A long burgundy velvet evening dress, split to the thighs above which padding was built into the skirt to give my hips shape. I saw that the gown was made in two parts held together with the most discreet of press studs and that, beneath a cummerbund the lower half could be removed altogether. I imagined circumstances when it might prove to be in the way. Then the maid was gone and I wondered what would happen next, albeit I found out fairly quickly.

Mistress Sidonia entered and expressed her approval, telling me that I should enjoy the evening and whatever calls should be made upon me. She led me across the Mansion courtyard and we entered the Great Hall. The party had started. I recognised the Mistresses who had enjoyed my use on my first evening at the Mansion. I saw the three maids, Cream, Mauve and Pink. They were attired like me in soft velvet gowns – each black but with their colours denoted by their respective cummerbunds. I saw other Mistresses whom I recognised and many whom I didn’t. Most had slaves in attendance, both male and female. Many carried the instruments of their power whilst some did not. There were others too, male and female, distinguished by formal clothes – dinner jackets for the men and cocktail dresses for the women.

Mistress Sidonia had made it clear that I was to socialise, to be elegant, to be feminine, to be submissive. She reminded me that I might remove my butt plug after dark but said that it would be a sign. I didn’t fully understand but decided not to ask further. I hoped I did myself credit in these things and spent much of the evening talking lightly with people comfortable with themselves and their positions. The buttplug stayed put and I wondered about the sign?

As the night wore on, the lights slowly dimmed and the normality of the party gave way to the intimacies of the small hours. Mistresses were now using their slaves. In one case a slave was pleasuring her Mistress – with evident satisfaction. Another was secured to a Catherine wheel and was the subject of amusement for several Mistresses. Yet another had attached a small machine to their slave and it was slowly pounding away at his anus, saving the Mistress the personal effort but again providing them both with evident pleasure. I was ready now to remove the butt plug and so found my way to the bathroom.

Emerging after a few moments and enjoying the ease of movement, one of the dinner jackets with whom I’d spoken earlier immediately caught my arm and ushered me aside into a smaller, darkened room. That had clearly been the sign; the time for talking was over. He pulled me towards him, his hands cupped around the padding that gave my bottom a feminine shape. I felt his hardness against me, mine constrained by the shell inside my knickers. He knew of the studs on my dress and I stepped out of the skirt as it fell to the floor. His hands focused on the naked skin at the top of my stocking and he ushered me towards a sling.

I lay back and he lifted my legs into the stirrups. I gripped the straps supporting the sling and eased myself into relaxation for what I was certain was coming. I felt his cock penetrating me. It needed little further lubrication, my anus now well exercised as Mistress Sidonia had intended by her regime. It was indeed easy compared to today’s butt plugs despite being a generous size and it allowed me to enjoy the sensation of being fucked by a man. I was so focused on the rock hardness I hardly noticed the attention gathering around me until my head was turned to receive a second cock. Hands held my head firmly and moved it in rhythm along the shaft allowing, once in a while, time to explore the tip with my tongue.

I have no recollection of time but I felt the stiffening pulses as dinner jacket reached his climax. The cock in my mouth was not far behind. His load sat on my tongue and I let it dribble down my chin. I third dinner jacket added his contents to my cheeks and I wondered if there would be a pretty maid to clean it up, perhaps kissing me clean with her tongue – or even just dabbing me dry with a cloth, but there wasn’t. I should stop fantasising about such things I thought and focus on reality. I had been used, as a slut should be, and my users had been satisfied – I hoped. I lay there wondering on what had become of me and what would happen next. I could hear others perhaps being used in the same way, perhaps being abused, judging by the muffled cries of pain.

I have no recollection of the hours that followed but I woke in bed. It was light now. In due course Mistress Sidonia appeared. She told me to prepare my face, to put on the underwear provided: bra, stockings but no knickers (I looked but couldn’t find any so assumed none were required) and shoes – the last remaining pair, the thigh boots. She said that she would return in a while but that I need not hurry with my preperations. On her return, complimentary as always, she said she was pleased with my makeup and that she would help me with the corset which she brought with her. Then she took me by the hand and led me to the dungeon. It was time, she said, for a real challenge and the final pleasure. A private pleasure to be shared between a Mistress and her bitch.

Mistress Sidonia told me that she was disappointed that I had not reached as far as number twelve and that I would need some further stretching before I was ready. She had some tools that would help me with that.

The three impossible plugs, thirteen, fourteen and fifteen sat each on its own chair. Each was almost a foot across at its widest point – one perfectly conical, one in three ‘beads’ and the other shaped as a regularly sized but plug, rounded at the tip and expanding gradually to its widest point. Mistress Sidonia informed me that I would try each in turn. I chose the cone first. I thought that it might help stretch me out more gradually and give me some chance at the other two. I lowered my weight onto the chair and let that determine how far the point would penetrate. The answer, as I feared, was not very far.

Second was the beads. It seemed that at least the first bead might fit after the stretching exerted by number eleven. It did, but not without the expense of a sharp grimace and outlet of breath as my anus, so stretched the day before, woke reluctantly to the task.

Lastly was the outsize plug. That I feared wouldn’t go anywhere – and it didn’t. Just too blunt to even begin to stretch my muscles.

Mistress Sidonia hid any disappointment, or rather I am sure she relished the challenge I was to face. Whilst I had been absorbed with the three plugs she had donned her strapon. The ultimate test. Some two feet long and as thick as a man’s arm. Thicker than number twelve at the glans and widening along the shaft.

She lay me over a bench and I stared at my image in a mirrored ceiling as she secured me firmly, pulling numerous straps tight around my wrists and across my stomach. My knees were pulled backwards and my ankles spread wide and secured. The ends of the spreader bar were attached to a rope looped over a winch and my legs were lifted upwards and out of the way – all the better to expose me.

When I was secure she taunted me with the tip of the tool. It felt hard and dry. I doubted that I could take it. Then there was silence. Mistress Sidonia returned with a mask which she secured over my head. My sense of place in the mirror disappeared. She fitted earpieces which obscured any sound but before doing so told me I should do my best to relax. It would also help me, she said, to focus on the physical sensations, cutting out the extraneous sounds and visions that could spoil the effect.

I breathed deeply, as deeply as I could within the constrictions of my corset, and found myself relaxing into a deep helplessness, all weight having left my limbs and my head left swimming with the senses of touch. Fingers entered. They met no resistance whatsoever. Two became four or was it even three became six, I couldn’t be sure, my head was dizzy now.

Then I felt the hard blunt shaft. It had been resting on my stomach. Now it seemed primed for action. My teeth gritted and I tried to steady my breathing. The head began to push its way in, widening the entrance. Mistress withdrew and I imagined fingers and the coolness of more lubrication. A hard shaft entered and withdrew. Mistress’s strapon was at the entrance again and suddenly I imagined I was sucking the whole shaft in. I wondered at Mistress Sidonia’s disappointment if I could not complete the task but it seemed impossible however many times she might try to enter me. Mistress pressed on gently inch by inch until I gasped and the shaft would slide in no further. She had reached her objective. The reality came to me. Now it was time to enjoy her pleasure and she pulled away the mask, held only by elastic straps, so that I could enjoy mine.

As she moved slowly and deliberately in and out of me she worked my now grossly engorged cock. The first spurt leapt a foot in the air. Perhaps it was nearly two. The flood was as much as I could ever recall. I felt my muscles constricting around the shaft still buried deep inside me. This was my reward and I knew to savour the moments before I would be dismissed from the Mansion, my weekend over, my challenges and this part of my training complete, I trusted to the satisfaction of Mistress Sidonia and I hoped that she would report accordingly to my own Mistress Valkyrie.

by slave sova