FFC-001 A party at Mistress Moriah's

This is a fantasy submitted for the Femdom Fantasy contest. The fantasy was submitted by slave a and meets all the conditions of the contest. Visitors to BDSMforyou can vote for this fantasy by choosing on our voting page FFC-001 A party at Mistress Moriah's". Then press "vote".

A party at Mistress Moriah's

He shook his head as he regained consciousness… curiously he looked around to see where he was. As far as he could see, there were only trees and bushes, bushes and trees. A shiver ran through him… Was it excitement? Was it fear? Or was it loneliness? Only then did he realise… that he was lying there completely naked. Here he lay, like a naked little heap of slave, drugged, stripped, transported to the middle of a dense forest and left there in despair. He still felt a faintly smouldering headache, and the memories came back one by one.

The slave party at Moriah's that he had been sent to by his Mistress. How Moriah had looked at him insistently at one point as she offered him the drink: “Drink, slave!”. How he had drunk the glass of liquid (with a very foul taste, he now remembered) down to the bottom anyway. And how, right after that, he slowly lost focus and sight and collapsed onto the floor…

Meanwhile it was daytime

How long had he actually been lying here? The party at Moriah's had been in the evening, and now it was daytime. Perhaps he had been lying here for hours. And how and where had he spent the night, then? Looking around, he noticed that there was something around his neck. He felt with both hands; there was a tight little chain around his neck, with something like a medallion on it, resting against his throat. He tried to look at it, but the chain sat too tightly around his neck, and he had no way of seeing what was on the medallion. Maybe a nice dog name or something, he thought.

Meanwhile something wasn't right with his little arsehole either, he noticed; something felt like a strange sensation. He reached for his bum with one hand and felt something rubbery. He pulled on it and felt how the rubber had to come from deep inside his arsehole. Then he held it up in front of him. It was a condom! And… there was still sperm dripping out of it! With horror he saw white flakes of sperm fall from the raised condom onto his belly and legs. Shocked, he flung the condom away uncontrollably, which also got him a strand in the face. “Stupid cunt of a slave,” he thought.

Simply raped?

Jesus Christ, what had they done to him? Had he simply been raped while he was unconscious… By whom? By how many? …. It all made his head spin at once. He did feel his arsehole throbbing now; now that he had discovered this, he only noticed how stretched everything felt. Or was the feeling still left over from that Mistress at Moriah's party, who had taken him from behind, bent over a vaulting horse, with a considerable strap-on? Furtively he looked around, but there was no one to witness his discomfort. Thank goodness.

He tried to stand up, only to notice then.. that his ankles were cuffed together.. with padlocks on the chain and on the ankle cuffs. Holy shit! Not only was he naked… he was also pretty much immobile! Apart from the fact that he had no idea how to get out of this forest, he now also had to do it in an extremely awkward and slowed-down way. Once more he looked at the glistening, dripping condom a little further on, threw off his reluctance, hoisted himself up and began to take the first – by necessity small – steps towards an opening in the forest, hoping to find a road or something of the sort there.

Disappointment

Once he reached the clearing, he let out a little cry of disappointment. There was no road at all; the clearing turned out to be simply a hollow in the forest. Then suddenly he heard a sound! He held his breath and pricked up his ears. It was a train! Unmistakable! The sound came from over there! He thought feverishly. A train is a sign of the inhabited world! Where there is a train, there are rails, and where there are rails, there is always somewhere... a station! Suddenly he had a goal! As fast as his ankle cuffs allowed, he walked in the direction from which he had heard the sound of the train.

The bushes grew denser and denser, and here and there he felt sharp thorns slide along his skin, as if the forest too were playing an SM game with him. Wasn't a forest feminine, perhaps, he wondered, totally pointlessly? In French it is ‘la forêt’, so in that language it fits, he thought. While he was stumbling along and musing like this, warding off stabbing branches as he wandered, he arrived at... a large field of stinging nettles. He cursed under his breath. He would have to go through it, straight to the point where he had heard the sound of the train. Any deviation from his straight path could be disastrous, because it might put him on the wrong track.

Sea of nettles

He reconsidered one last time, let out a deep sigh... and then waded through the sea of nettles. The nettles seemed to embrace his legs and provide them with maddening stings. Suddenly he sank deeper and felt water; he had ended up in some kind of little lake or patch of marsh! The nettles grew here deep into the water. He waded on, keeping as straight a course as he could, and meanwhile marvelled at the enormous stench that this muddy water gave off.

Sickening thoughts shot through him. With this foul stagnant water, contamination by all kinds of bacteria was not unthinkable! Once on the far side of the pool, he rolled through the leaves to get rid of at least most of the dirty water on his skin. However, by rolling he only now felt how badly his legs had been ravaged by the many nettles: thick patches of merging blisters were proof of his gruelling trek just now.

Hey! There it was again! The sound of a train! Closer now! His heart skipped a beat. Even though he hadn't yet thought about what to do if he came into the inhabited world naked, his first thought was still to escape from this wild forest. He pulled himself up and stumbled on with his shackled ankles once more to the spot where he had heard the sound of the train.

Edge of the forest

After what felt like an hour of walking, he finally came out at the edge of the forest! There he saw it! The gleaming outlines of train tracks! He had found the edge of the forest! But now… He broke away from the forest edge and walked to the fence that shielded the railway line on both sides. Disappointed, he looked at the fence; it was a barrier between him and... but no, actually it was just as well. He had wanted to walk on the rails towards the next station, but walking along the fence was of course far smarter! If a train came, he could hide in the forest until it was gone. But which way? Left, right, left, right.

Because he couldn't make a decision himself (as a well-brought-up slave you are used to Others making all the decisions for you), he threw a leaf into the air. Veins up = right, veins down = left. The leaf fluttered to the ground and came to rest with the veins up. Right it would be, then. Just as he wanted to start walking again, he heard in the distance the sound of a new train approaching. He understood that he could not stay standing there naked. He sprinted, stumbling, back to the forest edge, took a big dive into the bushes (feeling all kinds of pricks and scratches again) just as the train passed him.

Loud horn

He was terribly startled by the loud horn of the train! The passengers perhaps not, but the driver had almost certainly seen him. “C*nt,” he thought, and now he had to hurry too; the driver would surely report to control that a naked man was hanging around the train tracks. And then a search by the police or the railway police might be started. Once more he tried to walk as fast as possible, still only as far as the ankle cuffs allowed. Suddenly he saw a striking neon-yellow bag hanging on the fence. Was that a coincidence? Or was it meant for him?

He walked over to it and took the little bag off the fence. It simply said ‘SLAVE’ on it! A mixture of despair and joy took hold of him. Joy, that he was apparently on the right track! But despair, because he was apparently doing nothing less than simply conforming to a sadistic game that had been mapped out for him by Mistresses, and he was apparently still doing exactly what They had expected…. Virtually, they were playing chess with him while he knew absolutely nothing and simply moved mindlessly forward as an entertaining pawn on Their chessboard.

Pink bodystocking

He opened the bag and took out an utterly feminine pink bodystocking, and a note. “Dear slave,” the note began, “this is your salvation! Now you don't have to enter the inhabited world naked! Put on the pretty sexy bodystocking, feel sexy, and continue along the fence until you reach the level crossing. Classical music will guide you onwards from that point.” He turned the note over, but there was nothing else on the back. These were the only clues.

Reluctantly but gratefully he put on the pink body; he was absolutely not a sissy, he always felt like a manly slave, but still, better to enter the inhabited world in a pink bodystocking than stark naked, he thought. He fastened the press studs of the body together under his balls. Whoever had provided the body had at least taken the restriction of his ankle cuffs into account. Once neatly dressed, he continued on his way.

Standing sexy and provocative

There! Another little bag hung on the fence! Same colour, and again with SLAVE on it. Now with only a note inside. “Slave, pay close attention now!” it said in the opening. “The next task is important! You stay here and wait for the next train. But .. you do not run away! You are going to stand sexy and provocative in your body, ogling the passengers in the train. Two of us.. are on the train. The one in the first compartment will determine whether you are actually standing there, and whether you are flirting sexily enough.

If that is the case, she sends a message to the one in the last compartment. She will then show a sign with the name of a composer at the window. That is your clue for what comes next. If you are not standing there, or are not sexy enough, you won't get to see the sign, and you can work out for yourself how to get home from here. Good luck, you little slut!” F***ck.. that was an unmistakable assignment. Be sexy or be fucked. There was no alternative. Resigned, he waited for the next train….

Sprinter

It was at least another half hour before a train arrived again. The train approached at relatively low speed; it turned out to be a Sprinter. He struck a super-sexy pose, one hip forward, one hand behind his head and the other hand gracefully on his hip. He could almost look the driver in the eye; luckily the driver kept off his horn… The first compartment sped past, and he just hoped that the right person was in it and that he was found sexy enough. His eyes quickly shot towards the last compartment and did not let it out of sight again; he didn't even dare to blink. He mustn't miss this clue!

There it was! On a cardboard sign was written the name ‘Vivaldi’. He couldn't even see who was holding the sign; the train was already gone again. Only now did he feel the shame rising in him... dozens of passengers who had happened to be staring out of the window had now seen him as a sexy sissy. He shook the thought off and walked on along the fence, now as fast as possible towards the level crossing that had to be somewhere up ahead.

On the way he came to a little stream that crossed the railway line. A little bridge had been built along the fence, but it was so old and dilapidated that he muttered “poplar wood” at random, and lowered himself into the water along the bank of the stream and let himself fall forward to the other side. Better this way, wading through the cold water, than falling through a poplar-wood bridge and breaking his legs with that chain around his ankles. Shivering, he pulled himself up the bank on the other side of the stream and continued on his way.

New train

He heard the sound of jingling at the same time as that of a train! A new train was coming, but the level crossing was now close by as well! Once more he hid in the bushes from the train, and when it had only just passed, he hurried towards the level crossing. Arriving there, a new challenge awaited. On either side of the level crossing there were two car parks. And.. in each of the two car parks stood several cars, and in some of them…. there were people!

He sank to the ground and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Apparently he was expected to go onto the car park in his sexy lingerie, in search of the next stage of his journey. Slowly his breathing calmed, and he began to assess the situation from a distance, a bit more calmly. In the car park on his side there were three cars, one of which had people in it, both sitting in the front. Their window was open, and only now did he hear music coming from the car. The Sarabande by Händel, one of his favourite pieces of music! He let out a sigh of relief! Classical music! This car had to take him onwards!

Vivaldi

He was already about to walk towards the car, but he thought better of it and began to concentrate on the car park on the other side of the railway line. There were five cars there, but only two with people in them. In one car sat a single driver; in a minibus two people sat in the front. There too the side window was open. And.. there too he suddenly heard music, soft but unmistakable! It was ‘Summer’ by Vivaldi! The pennies were now dropping by the bucketload. Vivaldi! The music by Händel was a decoy manoeuvre, a nasty trick! The sign on the train had clearly indicated Vivaldi and nothing else. He had to make sure he got to the minibus!

He gathered all his courage, stood up proudly straight like a proud, beautiful woman and walked onto the road as confidently as he could, towards the crossing. That he had ankle cuffs on he simply ignored; he understood that to a chance passer-by nothing about the whole picture would add up. He didn't dare look at the other cars, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the minibus. As he walked he heard Händel fade behind him and Vivaldi grow stronger. A few more steps and he would be at the minibus; he could now see the people in it, they were wearing masks. The side door of the minibus slid open, and with four hands he was pulled into the minibus. He still tried to make out faces, but these women too (for he could tell from the contours that they were women) were wearing masks.

Cuffed to the wall

His pink body was unbuttoned and torn from his body. He was slammed hard onto the floor of the minibus, and before he could do anything, his arms were cuffed wide apart to two rings on a beam on the wall of the minibus. A moment later his ankle cuffs were off, and his legs were fastened wide apart to eyelets in the floor of the cargo area. There he sat now, naked and vulnerable, in the back of a delivery van. Through the masks he saw the glinting, sadistic eyes of two women, who stood on high heels and from that moment did nothing but kick him between his legs against his balls, or stand with their heels on various parts of his legs and slumped body.

“Where are you taking me?” he still stammered, but instead of an answer only the volume of Vivaldi was turned up louder. Suddenly a blindfold was put on him, and everything went black before his eyes. Headphones came over his ears, now with a very beautiful duet by two sopranos, possibly even louder than Vivaldi on the car radio earlier; that music he no longer heard now. The van kept driving, the women kept teasing, and slowly he slipped into a kind of trance, a mix of no longer being able to see, loud beautiful music and surrender to the whims of the women.

Concrete floor

So it took a while before he realised that the van had come to a stop. He still saw nothing, and still heard nothing but the opera music. Only the jolting from the driving had stopped. Roughly he was suddenly released from the rings, pulled half upright, helped out of the van, led a short way through the cold, led to a slightly warmer spot with a kind of concrete floor and put on a wooden chair.

Expertly he was strapped completely to the chair, a kind of ‘bondage by primals’. Not controlled and aesthetic, but extremely effective and above all very, very tight. His headphones were taken off and his blindfold was pulled from his eyes. Blinking, he tried to get used to the soft light of candles that stood all around the room. He looked around and only one term came into his head.. Urbex! This was the kind of location that a slave could only dream of!

Abandoned factory hall

It looked like an abandoned factory hall, with old rusty conveyor belts still on the factory floor, cranes with hooks along the ceiling, and here and there strange abandoned little vehicles, left behind in another age. Around him he saw the four women who had abducted him in the van; they seemed to be waiting for something. Suddenly a figure detached herself from the darkness and calmly walked into the witches' circle of candlelight. She was a magnificent female figure, entirely clad in leather, with high boots with high heels.

She too wore a mask, black and exotic, but with or without a mask, he was certain he had never met this woman in his life. She came to stand in front of him, bent forward, and regarded him with cool blue eyes. Their gazes met for a moment, and he was startled by what he saw. It was a look you would not quickly forget. Then the woman turned to the other four. “You have the wrong one!” she said icily.

The wrong one?

A shock ran through the other women, he noticed. And then through him too! The wrong one, the wrong one…?!? Where had this gone wrong? Had the bags on the fence along the railway line not been meant for him at all? Should he have come out on a completely different side of the forest? Or should he simply have stayed lying where he lay, waiting to be freed from his situation? His initial joy turned into fear. What was going to happen now..? “Fetch my E-Case,” he heard the lady in black (in his head already christened ‘SuperiorMistress’) say to one of the four, as she planted herself right in front of him.

Before he knew it, he had been struck in the face, with her open hand! And then another blow, back the other way, with the back of her hand. And then three more blows! His head spun in every direction, his ears were ringing. “How did you end up here! How did you find the bags? And where is my sub?” He looked at her in disbelief. Where was her sub? How could he possibly know? How on earth had he ended up in this? Meanwhile the other woman came back with a large case, and when the SuperiorMistress opened it, he understood why she had called it the ‘E-Case’: the case was full of electric instruments of torture!

Hitting, scratching, kicking and pinching

“Warm him up a little for me,” the SuperiorMistress said to the other women: “and if you can't keep it up, just rotate”. The four women did not let the grass grow under their feet and began to hit, scratch, kick and pinch his body, while the SuperiorMistress carefully took a number of instruments from the case and began to attach them to his body. A rod in his urethra, a ring around his balls, eight pads that she stuck on various places on his body, and nipple clamps on his nipples, with wires attached.

Finally she also put two clips with wires on his tongue. At a single gesture the women stopped their physical violence and helped the SuperiorMistress connect all the wires of the instruments to one large switchboard. Then one of the women unwound a cord from the switchboard, walked with the end of it to a pole in the room and put the plug of the cord into the socket on the pole. Drops of sweat appeared on his head. He had never been in such an extreme electro situation. It was clear by now that the SuperiorMistress meant business.

Rattling it off

“What is your name?” she asked, and he almost choked in his haste to give his name. “How did you end up here?” At high speed he rattled off that he had a Mistress who had taken him to a party at Mistress Moriah's, how he had fallen into a daze at the party, how he had woken up in the forest, heard the train, found the train tracks, chosen the way to the right, found the little bags and, at the level crossing, chosen the car with Vivaldi.

The SuperiorMistress did something on the switchboard and suddenly his nipples seemed to be on fire. He screamed. “How did you know you had to walk from the forest to the train?” Through the pain, he tried to make clear how he had associated the train with the inhabited world and had therefore chosen to walk that way. Once again a simple movement of a switch, and now all the pads on his body gave shocking jolts of current. He began to shake on the chair, with no idea whether or for how long he could keep this up. He felt electric shocks everywhere now. “Then how did you know you had to walk to the right, so that you would find my little bags?”

Electro cord on his balls

Once again he explained, stammering, how the leaf with its veins had decided the direction; once again the SuperiorMistress seemed not to trust the story at all. She pointed with her finger at his crotch, he followed her finger with his gaze and was startled by the electro cord around his balls. Her hand went to the switchboard again: “I'm going to keep going until you get ringlets from the current, slave!” and before he knew it, she sent a hard jolt of current through his balls. And another. And another. He screamed it out now, tears came to his eyes; it was so cruel and also so unjust. He told the truth, which this cruel woman simply did not believe.

Suddenly she touched one switch, and all the electro on his body stopped. He let out a sigh of relief and let himself fall back, relaxed, into the chair. But that relaxation lasted only briefly. “Get the pool ready,” the SuperiorMistress said to one of the women, who quickly walked to a door in the room and disappeared behind it. Then the SuperiorMistress looked at him again. “This was only the beginning; from this point we will quickly turn up the current. Until the pool is full enough for your next torture: water and electro.”

Back to my Mistress

Now he let his tears run completely free. “I really don't know, Mistress, I never had the idea that the tasks were meant for another slave, I thought they were there for me to get me back to my Mistress and to Mistress Moriah.” “Is that what you would like, then, slave?” the SuperiorMistress asked sternly. “Yes, Mistress,” he stammered. “Are you very sure, slave? Don't you want to stay here with me?” He stammered: “I find You beautiful, Mistress, and very impressive and decisive, but I would dearly love to go back to my Mistress.”

The SuperiorMistress nodded at the remaining three women, who quickly removed the electro instruments from his body. Suddenly big lamps in the factory hall came on, and to his great surprise and joy… there came his Mistress and Mistress Moriah walking up hand in hand. The SuperiorMistress and the other women had vanished unnoticed within moments. There he sat, exhausted, strapped to the wooden chair, with a smile of joy through his tears. His Mistress embraced him, his face between her breasts, and then Mistress Moriah too. He felt their warmth, their love, their comfort and let himself be swept along by it, churning and unfiltered…. His harrowing adventure was over.

Epilogue

What the slave never knew was what kind of well-organised plan lay behind his adventure. That it was only the next morning that he was taken to the forest by his Mistress and Mistress Moriah with the help of two slaves. That the slaves had been rewarded with some play with the Ladies and finally were allowed/obliged to fuck the slave's arse. That the medallion on the chain around his neck was actually a tracker, so that they could constantly keep an eye on where he was and whether he was moving in the right direction.

That if he had not gone in the direction of the train tracks, clues had been strategically placed in the forest around him so that he would. That at the train tracks he had indeed chosen to go right, but that on the left too two little bags hung on the fence along the train tracks, containing the same note, which would however have summoned him back to the right level crossing.

That when the little bag was taken off, a mechanism was triggered, so that they knew he had found the bags, whereupon the Mistresses could board the next train to show him the Vivaldi clue from the last compartment. And that the SuperiorMistress was a ProDomme, but found the adventure so unique and her role in it so h*rny that she took part for free and out of pure goodwill with a number of friends.

Specifications: Femdom fantasy contest 2025

Number of words

4,396

Word combination used

1, 2 and 5
1) Forest – reluctance – chess – lingerie – conform
2) Train – strap-on – classical music – poplar wood – contamination
5) Pool – ringlets – grass – bondage – rotate

Entry number

FFC-001

Received on

3 January 2025

Submitted by

slave a

Source

Text: slave a
Image: 123rf.com