Mistress Sidonia's Femdom Blog

Mistress Vivienne l’Amour at Circus Maximus: Sodom & Gomorrah in Aug 2023 ~ Photo by Fetish Filming

Circus Maximus hosted by Miss Vivienne l’Amour runs alternative, themed events for fetish players and swingers. Kink play (RACK) is encouraged at their friendly, party atmosphere nights. See Here & Here

An Initiate To Circus Maximus #2

Mistress Sidonia’s collared slave’s real experience as a first-time attendee at Circus Maximus: Sodom & Gomorrah in Aug 2023 hosted by Mistress Vivienne l’Amour.

IV

My baptism with Mistress’ waters over, and purified by her whip, she led me back downstairs to the main hall. The party was proceeding apace. Pockets of partygoers were enjoying themselves in their own inimitable ways. The night was hot and the activities within greatly exacerbated the heat.

Mistress led me down the passage, checking the various rooms. I wondered what might possibly happen next. Perhaps nothing, or perhaps everything. Such was the nature of the event. Mistress stopped at a doorway and tugged me over. The sight that greeted me was Sodom and Gomorrah writ large, in every sense! Pure, undiluted hedonism was the exquisite spectacle.

A double gang bang was underway. One slave girl was being fucked doggie style on a bed. Another lady was being filled on the back on the bed. The hostess, Mistress Vivienne, was overseeing the proceedings. She asked one of the slaves if he was inside as the angle was awkward. He replied with gusto, “No, but don’t worry I’m fisting her Mistress.”

Another finely toned Bull was given a ten second countdown to get a condom on and get inside the lady’s arsehole. Mistress Sidonia had stepped to the foot of the bed, pulling me over. The scent of musky sex hung heavy in the air. One of the ladies was clearly gagging for it orally, hoping her last hole would be filled.

Mistress took stock of my bearing. I wasn’t ready. Stage fright as she so rightly ascertained. And yes, I was simply overawed. In any case a willing volunteer was found. The slave girl now had every hole filled. The pulsating rhythm and sheen of bare flesh was something to behold. It was fucking primal. The orgy was ongoing. So was our odyssey.

Mistress took me to the photo room where she had her photo taken. I gladly obliged as her stool. It was sublimely erotic to be used in this fashion – a piece of furniture – a prop – to further the greatness of my Owner. I was also honoured with a photo, in which I tried to be as contrite as possible. The backdrop of the neon Hell sign was emblematic.

Later we arrived at another room. A scene was being set up and the anticipation was palpable. A Mistress was prepping herself and her cucked property was taking up position on a bed. A Bull was getting into position and his prominent stiff proboscis was clearly evident under his boxers.

Without any warning, Mistress shrilly ordered me onto my knees in front of him and told me to lick his cock. I fell to my knees. His sheathed cock filled my view, obliterating everything else. Gingerly I took hold of its base. Its stiffness was emphatic – an exclamation punctuation for the entire night.

A portion of its bare flesh was exposed through aslit. My tongue glided over the exposed expanse. His scent was all encompassing, and I expected it to soon permeate me further as I took him in my mouth.

However, Mistress let it go as far as a lick, and no further. Nevertheless, it was a moment and it further defined me. I was on my knees and prepared to suck cock for her. In a night of watersheds, another had been passed……

Epilogue

The harsh glare of early dawn was unforgiving as I gingerly made my way back into vanilla world. I wasn’t the same person coming back into it as I was before I entered the world of Circus Maximus. To use perhaps the parlance of the motor yard in which I had feared myself stranded the evening before, my pervery had, in effect, moved up a gear.

As I waited at East Midlands airport my mind was awash with a jumble of images from the night. I would have to order them and articulate the experience but that would come later. The sensory delights were still very much with me.

Towards the end of the evening, Mistress had unleashed me to do some wandering on my own. I caught the end of the gang bang and a sublime foot worship session that the ‘The H’ did with a slave.

The sense of dislocation didn’t really hit until I arrived back into Dublin airport and commenced the drive home. All I wanted to do was just to get under a sheet and wank myself silly. I found the light of early morning nauseating and I couldn’t relate to anything around me. The only saving grace on Sunday was that I was somewhat tired from the night. Monday was an even tougher proposition, and my mind was not tuned in any way to work.

I moved amongst my work colleagues, and occasionally I thought that if only they knew what a slut they were in the company of. I wore panties and brandished the marks on my arse with pride. At that stage I actually wish Mistress had beat me more and had employed me to even greater effect. I felt like being an utter fucking whore and I desired greatly company that would expedite that. This remained with me all week even as my focus returned to the minutiae of everyday life.

I got out and ran every day, the exercise and fresh air being something of a salve to my voracious filthy appetites. I looked up people with whom I could session with in Dublin and resolved to do something with one or two of them in the coming weeks. I wanked vociferously to the memories that kept cascading down my consciousness. In all this a clarity was affirming itself.

I had loved the club, the frisson of stepping outside the ‘normal’ conventions of society and into a world of kink, filth and wonder. It was akin to a child being let loose in a sweet shop – Willy Wonka or in this case Willy Wanka. To be in the company of such contemporaries at Circus Maximus was the stuff of dreams.

My perv instincts had asserted themselves from an early stage. Then came a period of denial as I tried to be ‘normal.’ Then came the altogether necessary readjustment as I assimilated it into my life, thereby greatly enriching it. Now at this stage, I want to be an even greater whore, slut, slave, whatever best describes it. My training continues. I will do anything for my Owner. I will follow her orders to the letter.

My slut manifesto was sanctified amidst the lashes of her whip, and the stream of her piss down my throat. I want to be a bitch on my knees, performing utter filth as she ordains it. I am an instrument for my Owner – here only to please her and to realise her world view and order.

by slave p
This is a partly fictional account of a Circus Maximus party based on some real & some imagined events.

Read Pt 1