FFC-003 Domaine de Moriah

This is a fantasy submitted for the Femdom Fantasy contest. The fantasy was submitted by slave j and meets all the conditions of the contest. Visitors to BDSMforyou can vote for this fantasy by choosing on our voting page for FFC-003 Domaine de Moriah". Then press "vote".

Arousal and submission

It is Wednesday afternoon: I am enjoying a day off. I look outside, where the trees are bowing to the strong wind. I suspect it is a good force 8 here on the coast, with a heavy shower every now and then, proper dog weather. Our faithful four-legged friend is lying completely out cold on her blanket. Two hours ago she was out with her master and got a treat from him. Then she fell into a deep sleep: she is surely dreaming of her next walk. I am sitting quietly working on my laptop, I still have a few documents to go through for work. Later I will do my admin.

Suddenly I see a message appear in my inbox from the sender ‘mm@thetrainingforyou.nl’. In a fraction of a second my heart rate goes up. I feel a lump in my throat: a very strange feeling takes hold of me. Could this be the e-mail I have been waiting for a while now? I decide not to open it yet, so that I can first get my breathing and heart rate under control. The mere thought of what the message might contain arouses me and gives me such a submissive feeling! Do I dare to open the e-mail, or do I go for the delete button after all?

Advertisement

It is now about 2 months since my eye fell on a very special advertisement:

‘Are you up for a very special experience in which you will get to know yourself better than ever? Then sign up for this 3-day training from 17 to 19 June. The training takes place in central France and is given by experienced course leaders who have earned their stripes. Every day they will demand the utmost of the participants. And we can give the following guarantee in advance: participants will remember this training for the rest of their lives’.

The advertisement continued:

‘Those interested can sign up via ‘mm@thetrainingforyou.nl’. State what you want to learn from/about yourself, in particular in the area of serving and giving attention to women: your text must be at least 500 words. Those selected will be notified by 15 May at the latest. No further information will be given: asking questions is therefore pointless’.

What kind of training is this?

Good heavens, what is this? I read the advertisement at least 100 times and let it sink in properly: what kind of training could this be, is it only about personal development, is it BDSM-related, is it a mix of the two or something else entirely? I decide to google it: unfortunately, my search turns up nothing, whatever I try. Every day I think about the advertisement, consciously or unconsciously: it triggers me, fascinates me, but it also makes me long for …..? Yes, for what, actually? For tension, learning, being challenged, arousal, confrontation, pushing boundaries and what is perhaps even more important to me: serving women better.

I immediately think of my own wife, to whom I have given too little attention in recent years. Would this training help me change my behaviour towards my wife radically and for good? I doubt whether I should sign up; one moment it is a very conscious ‘Yes’, then it is a ‘No’ because this challenge is really huge: I have no idea what kind of situations I will end up in and how I will handle them. And of course, as always, I still have a thousand and one questions.

Domaine de Moriah

I discuss it with my wife: decisive as she is, she doesn't hesitate for a second and says: ‘This is exactly what you need, I want you to sign up for this right away’. That same evening my fingers find their way across the keyboard of my laptop: all kinds of thoughts, goals, ideas, pitfalls etc. I try to work into my text as neatly as possible: in the end it comes to almost 700 words. I show the text to my wife: she nods in agreement and says: “Well written, you can send it right now”.

Back to the present moment: I hesitate over which key to press: Del or Enter? I choose the latter and, with a pounding heart, start reading the e-mail. The text I see on the screen means I can think of nothing else for the rest of the day:

‘You have been selected to take part in the training that will take place from 17 to 19 June. On Friday 17 June you report at exactly 15.00 hours to:

Domaine de Moriah
Rue de Tannay 24
Clamecy

The course is given by 2 experienced trainers. You bring the following items: personal toiletries and VT clothing and shoes. Make sure you start the training well rested. Finally: you are required to confirm your participation 14 days before the start’.

Scant information

I have been through many trainings and courses, but this one takes the biscuit when it comes to scant information in advance: I have no programme or anything like it, nothing about what will be done on those days, what is going to be ‘learned’, nothing at all. I am a control freak and I like to have influence and to be able to steer things, however difficult that sometimes is. Oh well, I think to myself, together with the other participants we can surely get the better of those two trainers: I remember once taking a training where we sent the trainer away halfway through. And who took the lead in that? Exactly, me!

So: chest out and head up, be convinced of your own strength and cleverness and no sea is too high! I try to visualise it: "I arrive at ‘Domaine de Moriah’ (whatever it may be), report in and immediately start asking questions so that I get information I can then use to my advantage. Depending on the situation I will do this in a very direct or a more indirect way, so that the other person doesn't even realise he/she is giving away information I can use to my advantage. Just be smart!"

Central France

In my diary the dates of 17 to 19 June are blocked: on the 16^th I want to travel to central France, where I will first spend a night in a hotel. The next day I can drive to Clarnecy very relaxed, take a little walk there (perhaps that will turn up some useful information), after which I will report in at 15.00. Five more weeks to go.

As stated in the e-mail, I confirm my participation exactly 14 days before the start of the training: I get no reply, which is actually quite odd, and I simply assume that everything came through fine. The weeks crawl by, every day I think of the training but I have complete confidence that it will be a pleasant combination of effort and relaxation. If it clicks with the other participants and the trainers, it will be three enjoyable days!

Having fun together

About 48 hours to go until my departure. I have already worked out the travel time: with a few stops along the way I reckon on about seven hours. The next day I can then take it easy: it is only some 20 km to Clamecy. I have largely packed my small suitcase and sports bag; the weather forecast for central France looks excellent, by the way, 22-25 degrees, no rain, so plenty to enjoy. Oh, don't forget sunglasses! Besides, at every multi-day training I have attended so far, you could enjoy an excellent dinner in the evening, after which you could relax at the bar or on the terrace with a beer with the other participants and trainer(s).

The nights are a bit shorter then, but having fun together is an important, if not the most important, element of any training. In that respect I am not worried and I am ready. I no longer feel the tension of a while ago: I am looking forward to it and keen to pick something up.

Final checks

On the morning of departure I do the final checks: I have taken our dog to a luxury animal boarding kennel (my wife works during the day), so our four-legged friend will want for nothing, although she will really miss her master (and the other way round). This morning I ran my last training round, only half an hour this time, then I take a relaxed shower. Of course my trainers come along: near Clarnecy there is a beautiful forest, ideal for working up a sweat there every morning. Passport? Check! Same for phone and charger. I give my wife a big kiss and put the luggage in the boot. In a good mood and full of confidence I start the car: off to France!

After a relaxed journey and an equally relaxed night in a fine hotel bed, I get up at 6.30 the next morning: first my daily run, then shower, get dressed and enjoy a French breakfast in the pleasant sunshine. I can enjoy this so much: nothing suggests that it is going to be a special day. I check out and have an utterly amusing little chat with the attractive receptionist, who tells me that the hotel owner has been French chess champion. You do experience things...

Satnav

With the help of the satnav my final destination is easily found. From the main road I turn onto a side road, or really more of a track with impressively tall trees on either side. I see an ornate gate with a small sign attached saying 'Domaine de Moriah': this must be it. In the distance I see a large house with a stately staircase. It is 14.50, I see nobody and decide to enjoy the sunshine quietly next to my car. Strange that I don't see any of the other participants...

A woman comes walking towards me from the house: she strides briskly to the gate, opens it and asks me: 'Are you a participant in the course?' I answer: 'Bonjour Mademoiselle, that's absolutely right! How beautiful it is here, a lovely place for a training!' As if stung by a wasp, the woman answers: 'Mouth shut, leave the car here, follow me'. 'Oops,' I think, 'she must have got out of bed on the wrong side, it happens'. I follow the lady in her wake, walk up the stairs and suddenly find myself in a magnificent hall with a high ceiling; ornate chandeliers complete the picture.

Dark corridor

Just as I want to ask whether I can have something to drink, the bitchy woman orders me to keep walking, after her. Halfway along the corridor we descend a stone staircase, after which we end up in a dark corridor: at the second door, which is made of solid wood, she stops and opens it: 'In,' she snaps. I step into the room and immediately hear the door slam shut and be bolted. Completely astonished by all this, I turn round and bang on the door: the hatch opens and before I can say anything, the woman's voice sounds: ‘Strip, and make sure you are ready in 10 minutes’.

I stand there stunned and want to know what the point of all this is: I set my brain to work and quickly make a plan: the first person I meet, I will confront about this extremely rude and blunt reception. I take a good look at the room, well, ‘room’, it is more like a cell: brick walls, no window. Along one of the long walls is a steel bed with a mattress and blanket, on the other long wall I see various rings fixed to the wall. ‘What is the purpose of those?’ I think to myself.

In the cell I also see a simple toilet and a washbasin, a shabby little lamp hangs from the ceiling, the only light in the cell. Diagonally above the door I spot a camera: what could that be for? I decide to sit on the bed and wait until the door opens: I am certainly not going to undress, why would I? I am here for a training to develop myself, not to follow orders like a slave.

Attractive woman

I hear the bolt on the door being drawn back: I stand up immediately and look at the door. As soon as it opens, I recognise the woman I saw earlier: an attractive woman accompanied by another woman: I estimate both at approx. 35 to 40 years old. Whereas the first woman was wearing ordinary clothes at the reception, both are now dressed in black leather with black flat-heeled boots underneath. To be fair: they look stunning.

I want to give them a sincere compliment on their outfits and at the same time take the opportunity to complain about everything that is going on. Before I can utter a single word, they are standing in the room: ‘Turn around’ is the short command that follows immediately. I don't know why, but I decide to do as I am told.

Kicked in the groin

‘Legs apart, hands behind your neck’. I spread my legs and put my hands behind my neck. A few seconds later I am kicked full in the groin: I collapse and lie knocked out on the floor. ‘Get up, hands behind your neck’ I hear one of the women say. I gather all my strength, stand there stumbling on my legs, my hands behind my neck as best I can. A second kick follows, the pain in my balls spreads at lightning speed through my whole body. Again I collapse and stay lying there, out for the count. ‘Undress, right now!’.

Half unconscious, I decide to comply: I put my clothes on the bed and try to get back on my feet. ‘Face the wall and hands behind your back’. I feel a mask being pulled over my head, which is then laced tight at the back at lightning speed: my sight is taken from me completely. I feel handcuffs around my wrists, which are clicked shut in a flash. Finally I am given a collar: ‘something’ is attached to the front of it: I suspect it is a lead.

My suspicion turns out to be right, one of the ladies pulls on my collar and says curtly: ‘Follow, make no sound’. I do as I am told and try to orient myself: I recognise the corridor, the stairs going up, but then I lose my bearings completely. I hear a door open, after which I am pulled inside.

Enormous silence

‘On your knees, head on the floor. Don't move!’ More or less automatically I react to this ‘order’ and immediately afterwards I notice an enormous silence: are both women still present, are there others in the room, or am I completely alone? All my senses are on high alert: if I could detect even the slightest thing, it would help me enormously in my wretched position. I hear nothing and establish that I am lying on a wooden floor, the temperature is pleasant, it smells nice, of a light lavender perfume. I can make out nothing more.

My limbs are getting stiff, my balls are coming back to life somewhat but still hurt enormously. I try to regulate my breathing, which works quite well: I even come almost completely to rest, it seems as if I am slipping into a kind of trance.

What does She have in mind?

In the distance I hear the clicking of heels: the clicking comes closer, stops and then seems to disappear again. This goes on a few times, after which the clicking is gone: I have the feeling that ‘someone’ is standing right behind me. The clicking moves from behind, along my right side and stops right in front of me. I focus on what is to come and have my breathing under control. A finger under my chin makes me lift my head: ‘Back straight and sit on your knees’ I hear a woman's voice say.

I do immediately what she says: my heart pounds: what does she have in mind for me? ‘So, you weren't planning to obey my slave girls?’ she says, still holding a finger under my chin. I don't know whether it is wise to answer this question so I decide to say nothing. ‘And you don't think it necessary to answer my question either? That's fine, I know how to deal with male worms who think they can get away with anything with women’. She has barely spoken her last word when I receive a number of hard slaps on both cheeks. ‘And stay seated, don't move and no sound!’

Unforgettable training

Another series of slaps follows, after which I feel tears welling up; I try to pull myself together, which only just works because the slapping has stopped by now. ‘I'll tell you one thing, little man: I am already looking forward enormously to giving you and that other little fellow an unforgettable ‘training’ together with my colleague. Listen carefully: after these three days you will be completely different men and you will do anything for us, but what is even more important: for your wife or partner too. Make sure you drum that into those little ears of yours, pathetic little man. And stay seated just as you are’.

Well, that hits home! My head has completely run wild, my brain is totally lost, my reason gone. I am kneeling and my knees are now starting to hurt quite badly. The muscles in my back, armpits and chest tense more and more: how much longer can I keep this up? Just as I want to say that I can't any more, I am pulled upwards by my lead. ‘Come along’ is the short command that follows. Still with the mask on, I walk behind the woman who pulls me along by the chain.

A door opens, I smell a delicious, soft, sweet scent that is something like incense or scented sticks. I have to stand on the spot assigned to me, after which the mask is taken off my head. My eyes have to get used to the artificial light in the room. What I see defies description….

Enchanting lighting

I find myself in a large room that is lit in an enchanting way: to my right stands a man (a participant?). He too has his hands behind his back, probably handcuffed. We both stand neatly next to each other and look at a very attractive and well-groomed lady who is sitting very relaxed in a luxurious armchair. It is quiet in the room, you could hear a pin drop.

Then, from behind the two of us, I hear the sound of clicking heels: out of the corner of my right eye I see a woman in elegant black clothing and stiletto heels walking, followed by the two women I saw earlier when I was taken out of my cell. This woman takes a seat in the other armchair, the two ‘jailers’ crouch down next to the armchairs, as if they were slaves of the two ladies.

Domaine de Moriah

The woman who was sitting relaxed in her armchair stands up and speaks:

‘Welcome, participants, to ‘Domaine de Moriah’! Now you may be wondering what exactly that means? Well, you will find out soon enough. Remember one thing well: we, Mistress Priscilla and I, Mistress Moriah, decide EVERYTHING here, both for our two slave girls and for you, the participants in this training. Yes, you heard correctly: there are only two participants, which means you will get maximum attention to learn and grow. The first step: you will take in the rules for the coming days properly and learn them by heart: you apply them 24 hours a day. Now Mistress Priscilla will first share a number of important matters with you, so pay close attention’.

Playing innocent

I stand there stunned and glance cautiously out of the corner of my eye at the other participant: does he feel the same as I do? I dare not say anything and am again making a plan in my head as to which of the four women I can best approach to find a way out of this awkward situation: surely that must be possible? Without my having said anything, Mistress Priscilla gets up, walks over to me and looks at me sternly: ‘And what exactly were you thinking?’ I decide to play the innocent and say: ‘I am curious which rules we have to abide by and …..’.

At that last word Mistress Priscilla grabs my balls incredibly hard, using all the strength in her hand to dig her fire-red nails into my balls. The result was that I collapsed on the floor, for the third time this afternoon. ‘That is how we do things here when there is lying. Stand!’

The rules

With enormous reluctance I decide to comply with her ‘order’. ‘This is your last warning, next time you will really be punished, slave’. She walks back to her armchair, sits down, looks at us intently and reads the following points from an A4 sheet:

1. From now on the participants are called ‘Slaves’. Your name is ‘Slave’ plus the first letter of your first name.

2. Slaves speak only if they receive permission from one of the Mistresses.

3. Slaves always address the Mistresses as ‘You’ in the formal form.

4. From now on slaves are forbidden to walk: they crawl or slide across the floor.

5. Slaves are forbidden to look at the Mistresses.

6. All orders and instructions from the Mistresses and the slave girls must be followed immediately: refusing is not an option.

7. If a slave wants to ask something, he politely raises his hand and waits until the Mistress gives him permission to speak.

8. Slaves always answer honestly; they cannot use a safeword.

9. Slaves do not touch themselves unless they have been ordered to do so.

10. Breaking the rules leads to punishment: the severity of the punishment is determined by the Mistresses.

Finally: you cannot leave the training early.

Like a rabbit

I stare at the Mistresses like a rabbit in headlights and try to put everything in order in my own mind. Did I just hear correctly that I have to follow/carry out all orders and instructions, that I may not refuse them because otherwise I will be punished? I have heard enough by now and have decided to throw in the towel.

I also sense unrest in the other participant (or rather: slave): neither of us dares to say anything, though, for fear of possible reprisals. I decide to wait for the right moment and then exploit the weakness of one of the women: I am convinced this will work. For now just play along with the game, there is nothing else for it.

After this remarkable ‘presentation’ by Mistress Priscilla (I already have a profound dislike of her), Mistress Moriah gets up from her armchair and goes first towards my ‘fellow slave’: she casts a contemptuous glance at him and then stands right in front of me, her bright blue eyes looking at me piercingly: ‘Well, well, look who we have here, it is actually Johan de Groterzager himself! You had some nerve signing up for this training, I must say, how lovely. But here at ‘Domaine de Moriah’ the laws of the outside world do not apply, here MY laws apply and they are not gentle.

Personal trainer

So slave j, for the next three days I am your ‘personal trainer’, so brace yourself. You are going to ‘discover’ yourself incredibly, and you can drum one thing into your ears right away: I am not going to make it easy for you!’ I don't like the way she says this at all: I detect a cynical and sadistic undertone in her words and would most like to challenge her on it right away. ‘Not now’ I think to myself. As if stung by a wasp, I see Mistress Moriah's friendly smile change instantly into a sadistic grin.

She takes me by my right ear, twists it hard and whispers into it: ‘What is going on in that little head of this filthy little slut?’ My answer follows immediately: ‘Nothing, Madam’. She looks at me and remarks in an ice-cold tone: ‘That is your first lie, I have known you longer than today so I am going to have a lovely time working on you later. I am already looking forward to it!’

Threatening words

After Mistress Moriah has spoken these threatening words, she takes me by the leash to another, large room: I have to crawl after her, the other slave has already been ‘escorted’ there by Mistress Priscilla; on arrival in this room my heart sinks: my comrade is lying across a kind of bondage table: his hands are still in the handcuffs, his ankles are fastened to the bed frame. The bondage table is positioned so that the slave's head just hangs over the edge: he is being caned firmly.

On the wall, about one metre away, hangs an A4 sheet with, I suspect, the ten ‘house rules’ on it. Could this indeed have to do with the rules every slave has to learn by heart? I am given no more time to think: Mistress Moriah lays me across the other, still available bondage table too, fastens my leash to the frame and fixes my body with a number of straps. ‘So, now let's see how quickly this little slave picks things up, you're so clever after all, aren't you? You will drum these ten rules into your head and every five minutes you will recite them with your eyes closed, until you can reproduce them without a single mistake.

For every rule that is not right, you get a stroke with this cane, which can hurt nastily’. To add force to her words, she swishes her cane through the air while looking at me intently. Be warned: this task is not easy and may well take hours, which only makes it more fun for me. So do your best, I'm curious. Ready? Off you go!’

Recite the rules!

I begin to commit the first and second sentences to memory and soon notice that I have to concentrate enormously to manage this: every time the second sentence is almost in and I want to switch to the next, pieces of the first two sentences fall away again. ‘Stop!’ comes abruptly from Mistress Moriah's mouth. ‘Recite the rules’. I can say the first sentence flawlessly, at the second rule I stumble over the words halfway. ‘That is not a very good start and frankly I am disappointed in you, slave j.

That means nine strokes of the cane, what a fantastic start, yoo-hoo!’ In my head I prepare myself for the strokes that are coming: does she start softly and build up slowly, or, and she is known for this, does she go full throttle straight away? After the first stroke I know enough: she holds nothing back and lays into me with full force: after nine strokes I feel as if my buttocks are as red as a tomato.

Seven new strokes

I take a moment's rest to focus on the rules again: I actually manage to remember three sentences and recite them flawlessly. The result: seven new strokes, delivered by Mistress Moriah, now varying in ‘hardness’. I hear Mistress Priscilla's cane swishing cheerfully through the air: my ‘fellow student’ groans and screams as if his life depends on it. My neck muscles begin to hurt because I have to keep them tensed constantly. Because of the pain, and especially concentrating on receiving the pain, I find it harder and harder to remember the rules: after a while I can't even recite the first rule without mistakes any more.

The cane strokes keep coming, sometimes with short pauses, then again very rhythmically: there is no telling what to expect. ‘I had already told Mistress Priscilla that this first exercise was going to be so much fun, and that is certainly the case’ I hear Mistress Moriah call out proudly: ‘We'll carry on for another half hour, come on slaves, do your best!’ That last thing I certainly do, but the task is simply impossible: I hear my colleague give up, I am not planning to. A tough thought, but at some point I meet my limit, beaten soft by Mistress Moriah, who reacts exuberantly: ‘You see, they are two filthy sluts who can't do anything!’

Half unconscious

Both Mistresses and their slave girls leave the room, leaving us half unconscious and still bound on the tables. As best I can, I try to relax my muscles, which only partly works. I have no idea how long all this has lasted but I hope we will soon be freed from our dire position.

After some time the door opens and the four ladies step in cheerfully: ‘Look how nicely these little slaves are standing there, and what beautiful little colours on their buttocks!’ I hear Mistress Moriah say: ‘I see red, blue, black, green, they have each become little works of art, in some places it is even bleeding already, what a lovely start!’

The words she speaks make me fear the worst: I already feel as if I have been tortured here for a whole day. My fellow slave and I are untied and helped up by both slave girls: leather cuffs are buckled around our ankles, after which the handcuffs are removed: how nice to be able to relax the arm and shoulder muscles for a moment! Cuffs are put on the wrists which, like the ankle cuffs, are expertly closed with a little padlock: ‘So, our pitiful little men are now nicely decorated and ready for what is to come’ I hear Mistress Moriah say cheerfully.

Get to work!

‘For the next task you may rest, but you will get to work for your Mistresses. Slave girls, go ahead’. Both slave girls take a chain of about five metres and pull it through the eyes of the ankle and foot cuffs so that they are connected to each other: the ends of the chain are fitted with a padlock: in this way there are 2 broken men with sore buttocks, chained independently of each other. The slave girls take us along, crawling on the leash: a walk through various corridors follows: finally we go through a door behind which a magnificent kitchen is revealed.

One of the slave girls speaks: ‘You have exactly two hours to make a delicious meal for the Mistresses; don't try anything funny because you are being watched closely via cameras on the walls. And oh yes, I almost forgot: there is another precaution to be taken: you will both be fitted with a CB with remote control: should your Mistresses think something is being done that is not allowed, or they simply don't like it, you will feel it immediately in your balls and cock. In short: you have everything in your own hands. This is, by the way, the only room in the house where you are allowed to stand’.

4-course meal

The slave girls leave the room, we look at each other; we remember that we may not speak, so how are we going to put together a complete meal without consulting each other? With gestures we divide the tasks until we see a notepad and pens lying there: that makes it all a lot easier. Within the time limit set, we put together an excellent 4-course meal: the fridge is generously stocked with all the necessary ingredients. After exactly two hours the slave girls come to fetch us: we are proud of ourselves for having got the job done without our CBs being activated.

Serving the dishes is a job in itself: since we are only allowed to crawl or slide in the corridor, we have devised a trick: we use a trolley on which we transport the dishes one by one: miraculously this works excellently. Both Mistresses show themselves satisfied with our cooking, which gives me the impression that we can certainly influence them: we simply wait for the right moment.

Washing up

After dinner the slave girls order us to wash everything up, tidy up and leave the kitchen spick and span: we, modern men, do this at home too, so we regard it as a doddle. After a while the kitchen door opens, the two slave girls come in, followed by both Mistresses. Mistress Priscilla speaks: ‘So, little slaves, the meal tasted especially good, you did well there, now let's see what the kitchen looks like’. Both Mistresses carry out a round of inspection and seem not particularly satisfied with our performance.

‘We have seen enough. Slave girls: bring these wretches to the black room in ten minutes’. We look at each other in surprise because what can the Mistresses have found? We really did our best! One of the slave girls orders us to go down on hands and knees, which we do immediately. We wait a few more minutes, after which we crawl along the corridor, not knowing what awaits us.

Good-for-nothings

‘Look at the good-for-nothings crawling in now, come on, hurry up’ I hear Mistress Moriah call. ‘Let me guess: slave j has surely got all kinds of little plans in his head to escape the dance and make a run for it, am I right?’ The slave girls urge us to crawl on and stay seated right in front of the Mistresses. ‘Uh, yes, Mistress’ I stammer.

‘I appreciate your honesty, slave j, but of course you won't get away with it that easily, and that goes for that friend of yours too. That is why we now come to a very special part of the training in which you will both push your boundaries, which is what you wanted so badly, isn't it? Well, Mistress Priscilla and I are going to help you with that, nice, isn't it?’ I don't believe a word of what she says, certainly not because I see that characteristic, sadistic smile on her face.

A round of the room

‘Slave v, on your knees, hands behind your back. Slave girls, you will stand diagonally behind slave v and hold his shoulders. Slave j, you come with me’. Mistress Moriah grabs my hair, makes me crawl a round of the room and orders me to stop when I am sitting opposite slave v. At that moment Mistress Moriah says: ‘Slave v: stand’. He obeys immediately and stands up, one of the slave girls removes his CB and does the same with mine.

Mistress Moriah stands over my back with her legs apart, takes me by my hair and guides my head towards slave v's cock, then she says: ‘Slave j, listen carefully to what I am about to say to you. You will do what I order you now, I don't want to hear a thing: you are going to bring slave v to his climax’. This bizarre order has barely been translated by the receptors in my brain when I suddenly hear Mistress Priscilla coo: ‘Oh, we forgot something’. She comes walking over quickly and in the blink of an eye fastens two nasty clamps on my nipples: my cock reacts immediately and comes to life as if to say: ‘Are we going to do something fun, boss?’

The next command is one I had hoped not to get, but it comes all the same: ‘And now slave v's cock in your mouth, and quickly’ Mistress Moriah orders me. This is not to her full satisfaction, which I notice immediately: I get a nasty, fierce whiplash on both buttocks, at the same time Mistress Moriah pulls me by my hair towards slave v's belly so that I have no choice but to take his whole cock in my mouth.

Non-stop

The whiplashes carry on non-stop, and so does the pulling of my hair: my head goes back and forth, slave v's cock constantly in my mouth, he keeps getting bigger, I almost gag. ‘Look, this is what I mean by a tough training, filthy little sluts, carry on slave j, you've only just started’. Mistress Moriah steps off my back: I suspect she is also going to stand behind me because I can no longer see her.

I suck slave v as if my life depends on it, my buttocks burn from the incessant whipping, which has now become much more intense: I think Mistress Moriah is now using the whip as well because the ‘new’ strokes are even more vicious. My nipples hurt nastily, especially when Mistress Moriah tugs at the clamps now and then: she enjoys it when my body reacts to that straight away. I could sink through the floor from all this tension, these emotions, the pain, this ultimate humiliation. ‘Now you feel what women feel; slave j, how do you like it?’ Mistress Moriah calls out.

Stop!

I cannot possibly react, feel even more humiliated and carry on sucking, I can do nothing else. From slave v's reactions I notice that he is soon reaching his limit, I hope for only one thing: that it will all stop within a few seconds. Then, out of nowhere, I hear Mistress Moriah call out: ‘Stop!’ It seems as if the world stops turning: a serene silence falls, I pant like a horse and gradually get my breath back.

Slave v groans and groans; I think he is on a completely different planet. ‘Enough for now, these filthy sluts are going to their cells now; tomorrow the training continues and that promises to be a spectacle. Sleep well!’ Before we leave the room, the slave girls fasten the CBs back on our little friends.

Completely spent, exhausted and humiliated, slave v and I crawl towards our separate cells: how glad I am when we get there, one of the slave girls removes the lock from the chain and locks the chain around one of my ankles again. She pulls the other end of the chain through one of the eyes on the wall and puts a lock on that too. Honestly, whatever happens, I no longer care.

Finally rest

When the cell door is locked, there is finally rest for my head and body. I look around me in a daze, glance at the camera whose red light is on and, with my last strength, go looking for my toothbrush and toothpaste. Without dressing, I crawl under the blanket. Am I dreaming or is what happened to me today real?

‘Get up and quickly!’ is the command I hear in my ears: is it morning already? I suspect so but am not sure: on arrival I had to hand in my watch and phone and here, in my cell, I have no sense of time at all. With a broken body I get up, fortunately I can still think clearly: I have resolved to address the slave girl standing in the cell doorway in this way, now just waiting for the right moment. First I shave, wash and brush my teeth, put on aftershave and deodorant (why, actually?) and then stand in position in the middle of my cell.

Escort to the exit

The slave girl unfastens the chain from the wall, and from my ankle. ‘This is the moment’ I think, and I give myself courage that way. ‘Madam, I want to say something: I signed up for a training to be able to grow, not for a course to be worked to death. Would you please escort me to the exit so that I can go home? I can't keep this up much longer’. The slave girl looks at me and doesn't move a muscle. Out of nowhere I feel an enormous stab of pain in my cock and balls; for a brief moment the pain is gone, only to return again at lightning speed.

I was not clever: of course one of the Mistresses was able to follow this whole scene via the camera and decided to ‘intervene’. I know this will not go without consequences. I crawl through the corridors behind the slave girl, the chain fortunately staying behind in the cell. I am led to the kitchen where slave v is already present.

Simple task

The next task is fairly simple and relaxed: make a tasty and complete breakfast for the Mistresses, complete with fresh fruit, coffee et cetera. In the spacious kitchen we quickly manage to find everything we need: in no time we are ready and we go, in the same way as yesterday, towards the room where the Mistresses take their meals.

On entering, it is of course Mistress Moriah who speaks: ‘Well, well, there are our good little sluts again, what a pathetic pair they really are! So, did you sleep well? I hope so because there is a lot on the programme today. Now that you are here, I first want to take a closer look at you’. Slave v is the first to step forward: I look at his buttocks, which show all the colours of the rainbow.

Mistress Moriah inspects his whole body and seems satisfied. ‘Slave j, come here,’ she snaps at me. I step forward, expecting to be looked over in the same way. ‘Well,’ says Mistress Moriah, ‘this is of course a completely different story….’.

Deathly silence

Mistress Moriah stands right in front of me, her nose only a few centimetres from mine: the room is deathly silent. In a whisper she says: ‘So, slave j is still busy making all sorts of little plans in his head, what energy and creativity, I love that! Only you always end up drawing the short straw here: we, the Mistresses, are in charge here, not you, delicate little men. So I have decided that you will get some extra attention today, and you will get that attention from me, isn’t that sweet?’

I look in amazement into her deep blue eyes, because how is it possible that she can read my thoughts? Mistress Moriah remarks that I smell nice, orders me to raise my arms, then places two of her nails on my torso and carefully walks around me, constantly pressing her nails deep into my skin. Slowly she walks five circuits and in this way draws bright red circles on my torso. ‘Your buttocks look beautiful but could use some extra training; you are in luck, slave j, because that is exactly what is going to happen today and tomorrow’.

Seductive perfume

The Mistresses eat their breakfasts and once again give slave v and me a sincere compliment. During breakfast I fantasise about these two women, both dressed today in a sexy leather outfit: I drift off for a moment to another world. When both Mistresses have done justice to the extensive breakfast, slave v is, to my surprise, ordered to take the breakfast things back to the kitchen: I have to stay with the Mistresses.

Mistress Moriah comes over to me and looks at me once more: I smell her seductive perfume and cast a brief glance at her bosom. ‘As I said, slave j, it is very simple here: you do what you are told. If not, Mistress Priscilla and I know how to deal with that, and we will pull out all the stops to get you back in line. And that is exactly what I am going to do with you now!’ She winks at me, which does not bode well.

Clamps

She walks around me, picks something up and comes to stand in front of me again. ‘Look, I am kind enough to show you and tell you what I am going to do with you: these six nasty clamps are going to get a nice spot on your body. Now you may be wondering: where are you going to put them? Yes, there are very many lovely, highly effective spots to think of, but two of them are my favourites. Pay close attention!’

The first clamp, which looks more like a battery clamp, she places on my right nipple: I grit my teeth against the pain, look at her and get a beautiful smile in return. I manage not to moan, albeit with great difficulty. My left nipple gets the same kind of adornment: again that biting pain. Curious as I am, I wonder where she is going to put the remaining four clamps. Before I find out, she orders one of my female slaves to remove my CB and to fasten my wrist cuffs behind my back. ‘Oh no, here it comes’ races through my head.

A stupid story

Mistress Moriah says in a very matter-of-fact tone: ‘I have decided to put these four clamps on your scrotum; from experience I know this can hurt terribly, but then, you decided this morning to deliberately break one of the rules and to spin such a stupid story to my slave. Frankly, I had expected a somewhat smarter move from you. And now? Now nobody can help you any more and you are going to get to know yourself.

I would like to add the following to this task: the task stops as soon as I see tears on your face, not a few crocodile tears dangling down those sweet little cheeks of yours, but real tears, that just keep coming. Here we go!’ She places the first clamp on my scrotum, its little jaws greedily gripping my skin: what hellish pain this is! I am ordered to remain standing so that Mistress Moriah can place the other three clamps.

Convulsing

The pain takes on excessive proportions: I can handle the clamps on my nipples, but the clamps on my scrotum drive me to the limit. I cannot stay standing, I lie and convulse on the floor, I am going to lose it from the pain and thus to Mistress Moriah. I feel the tears coming, I scream it out but nothing happens: the clamps stay where they are. This goes on for a while until I feel as if I am drowning in my tears: in the blink of an eye Mistress Moriah takes the clamps off my scrotum and nipples and leaves me lying there sobbing.

She comes to crouch next to me, strokes my hair and looks at me with a smile: ‘So, little slave, that was not gentle, was it? You have learned something about yourself again, how nice is that? Shall we agree that from now on you do everything that Mistress Priscilla and I say?’ I nod and through my tears I see the smile on Mistress Moriah’s face.

A nice massage

When I am fully back in my senses, I feel that damned CB is back around my balls, my faithful companion. Mistress Priscilla and slave v enter the room: we, the slaves, have to kneel neatly in front of our Mistress, after which Mistress Priscilla speaks: ‘It is time for you to do your best to pamper us, just as you will do with your wives from now on.

We long for a nice massage in which you spoil our bodies from head to toe. Mistress Moriah and I will leave the room shortly, and you will be taken to the room by our female slaves. And I would like to give you a tip right now: do it well, because if we are not pleased, you will pay for it’.

Both ladies leave the room, slave v and I look at each other questioningly. I have quite some experience giving massages, for instance to my own wife, but what exactly do these ladies expect of us? We can only hope for the best and meekly let both female slaves take us to another room: our knees, incidentally, are starting to hurt quite a bit from all that crawling. In the corridor I glance outside through the windows now and then: I suspect it is around midday: the sun is high in the sky.

Massage oil

Having arrived in the atmospherically lit and pleasantly scented room, slave v and I are ordered to take our places beside the Mistresses: I have to stand next to Mistress Priscilla. Both ladies are lying on a massage table with their heads down. I warm the massage oil in my hands before letting it drip onto Mistress Priscilla’s arms and back. I begin my massage at her hands and work via the wrists and her arms to her shoulders; she evidently enjoys it very much because her body is completely relaxed: now and then she makes soft sounds of pleasure that confirm this.

I massage her back, legs and feet and notice in myself the feeling that I enjoy doing this for her. ‘This is heavenly, slave j, as far as I am concerned you could carry on with this all day,’ I hear Mistress Priscilla say. ‘But sadly, we have a few other tasks for you. But you have undoubtedly done this well, so thank you!’

Something to eat

Slave v and I get the chance to eat something first, after which we have to prepare lunch for the Mistresses: it turns out to be tasty sandwiches, whispered to us by both female slaves: the Mistresses also enjoy this and are in a good mood. This strengthens my thought that the hardest part of the ‘training’ is over and that from here on it can only get easier; I suspect my companion thinks the same.

After slave v and I have been ‘escorted’ by the female slaves back to the room where the Mistresses are, we are once more on our tormented knees in front of them. Once again it is Mistress Moriah who speaks.

Halfway

Dear little slaves, you are almost halfway through the training and so far it is going well. It does Mistress Priscilla and me good that you put in so much effort for us: remember that from the moment you get home, you treat your own wife in the same way: pamper her, cherish her, surprise her and give her sincere attention every day’. I take these words to heart and come to the conclusion that I have fallen short towards my wife on these points lately: I resolve to really do this differently from now on.

‘We now come to the next part, and that will be boundary-pushing and confronting for both of you. You are going to buy lingerie for yourselves and wear it: the female slaves will accompany you, we will follow you through our phones’. I look as if I have just heard a bolt from the blue; did I hear that right, buying lingerie and then wearing it too? Still deeply impressed by this morning’s sadistic ‘clamp game’, I decide to say nothing and simply carry out the task. In our cell the wrist and ankle cuffs are taken off; the CB of course stays on.

We are given a black leather jacket that reaches just over our buttocks: provocative to wear for women, incredibly humiliating for men…

Women’s shoes

I expect the next step is to put on our own shoes, but I quickly find out I can forget about that: one of the female slaves has two boxes with her from which she conjures up women’s shoes: ‘Look, this is what Mistress Moriah and Mistress Priscilla thought up for you to wear, be glad they are not high boots’. In her hands she holds two pairs of shoes, bright red with a heel of, I estimate, some seven cm. ‘Am I supposed to walk on those?’ I think to myself. ‘Put them on, and quickly,’ the female slave commands; with great reluctance and much resistance I put on the shoes which, miraculously, fit like a glove.

‘Stand and follow us,’ comes the curt order. Slave v and I follow both women (there is no alternative), and in the corridors the clicking of our heels is clearly audible. Having arrived in the hall, the two Mistresses are already waiting for us: they both burst out laughing: ‘Well, look at that, how hilarious, our little sluts with their short leather jackets and their fire-red pumps. We wish you lots of shopping fun and are already looking forward to the footage we will see later. Do not let us down and do not do anything stupid, that CB is there for a reason!’

Beaux-en-Morvan

The female slaves take us to their car and the four of us drive to the nearest town, Beaux-en-Morvan. One of the female slaves skilfully parks the car, fortunately in a car park so that as few people as possible can see us. ‘Get out and both walk a metre behind us,’ orders the voluptuous driver. Slave v and I do as we are told and follow our escorts like meek little lambs.

I can quickly put the thought that we will soon be at the lingerie shop out of my head: we walk for more than five minutes before we arrive at the shop. ‘Get inside quickly,’ I tell myself: ‘Hurry up with buying that nonsense and then straight back to the Mistresses’: strange as it sounds, I feel safer there than here.

Lingerie shop

The lingerie shop is not just any shop; I think the word ‘lingerie’ was invented here! It is an enormous shop whose end you cannot even see: everywhere I look, I see the most fantastic, exciting, erotic underwear: nobody needs to tell me that my cheeks are now as red as the pumps I am wearing, good heavens! After taking everything in for half a minute (and I think slave v did the same), two ladies come walking towards us: an older lady who looks attractive and a young woman moving about on sky-high heels.

‘Welcome to our shop, special guests. We are your advisers, I am Claire and this is Monique: we are Dutch and have been running this successful business for some 8 years now. As you can see, our range is enormous, and we will gladly show it to you. Know that men come here regularly, so there is nothing to be ashamed of. Which of you is slave v?’ My buddy raises his hand: ‘Good, then you go with Claire and one of your escorts, and you, slave j, come with me, together with the other escort. We will see each other again in about an hour’.

Sexy dress

‘Madam Monique’, as I will conveniently call her, does not let the grass grow under her feet and immediately takes the initiative: ‘So, you are the one who is crazy about lingerie? Mistress Moriah has already told me quite a bit about you, so we are really going to make something of this’. I take a good look at this ‘Madam’: she wears boots with high heels that reach up to her knees, and above them a sexy little dress. She has her hair up and is perfectly made up, her perfume intoxicates me from the first moment; she does not strike me as a kitten to be handled without gloves, incidentally. ‘Follow me,’ she says in a commanding tone.

Of course I follow, as does the other female slave, who has been filming everything since we came in so that both Mistresses can enjoy this spectacle to the full.

Various sets

Halfway through the shop the lady stops: ‘Mistress Moriah has already selected quite a bit for you, and I have supplemented it with what I think is suitable’. The lady shows me various sets of lingerie, beautiful stockings, gorgeous bodystockings and seductively soft, glossy underwear. I gasp for breath and look at the female slave, who is still filming: the ‘spectators’ on the other side must be doubled over with laughter.

The lady speaks: ‘You are going to try on all these sets: each time you walk to the front of the shop and back again. Of course the shop is simply open, so other customers will surely look on in surprise at your ‘performance’: your escort will film everything’. I see no way out of this misery and decide, once again, simply to do what I am told. I put on the various sets, bringing ‘someone’ to life each time, and parade through the shop in shoes and lingerie while receiving maximum attention.

Two girlfriends who are out shopping look on in bewilderment at the whole situation and then burst out laughing. I decided long ago to submit to all of this as a slave, and, to be honest, I also enjoy the excitement and tension: but of course I am not going to broadcast that.

What a fuss

After much dressing and undressing the hour is almost up and I think we are about to leave. Then the female slave comes up to me: ‘Mistress Moriah wants to say something to you’. The slave holds the phone in front of my face: I see Mistress Moriah on the screen with a big smile. ‘How beautiful that looks, slave j, you really steal the show with that parading of yours through the whole shop! I want you to put on the long stockings and the tight bodystocking now, with your red pumps underneath: you wear your leather jacket half open, if necessary the slave will assist you’.

Nowhere am I safe from Mistress Moriah, not even in this lingerie shop! I obey, put on the lingerie I am told to wear and rejoin my fellow slave. Both saleswomen are having the time of their lives and shriek with laughter as we leave the shop. ‘Now we are going to walk a round’ one of the female slaves remarks. In their wake slave v and I follow our escorts: straight through the shopping centre, across the market and along the high street, where it is extremely busy. On the way we receive hundreds of astonished looks: I feel humiliated to the bone and want only one thing: to go back to our Mistresses…

Back at Domaine de Moriah

Having arrived at the ‘Domaine de Moriah’, we are warmly welcomed by both Mistresses, who are waiting for us in the hall: ‘You did this task fantastically, little sluts, we are so proud of you!’ I hear Mistress Moriah say. ‘As a reward you may keep your outfit on a little longer, the jackets can come off, you can give those to the female slaves: you can follow us and this time you may even walk for a bit.

Slave v and I look at each other in amazement: could this be a mindfuck by both ladies, or is it really true that the pressure is being taken off for a moment? We walk through the corridor, by now familiar, and enter a room that is new to us. When we come in, the room is dark: you cannot see your hand in front of your face. Suddenly a soft light flicks on: I am startled by what I see. I see a large St Andrew’s cross upholstered in black leather, tilting slightly backwards. At the ends of the cross there are rings; their purpose needs no further explanation.

A mask over my head

‘Today we are going to reverse the roles, gentlemen,’ I hear Mistress Priscilla say. ‘Slave j, come forward and stand, hands behind your neck’. In no time both Mistresses put the wrist and ankle cuffs on me, after which I am fastened to the cross with my back against it. ‘That looks lovely, especially with such beautiful lingerie on,’ I hear Mistress Priscilla say.

Mistress Moriah has meanwhile picked up a mask and pulls it over my head: she pulls the laces tight, which immediately arouses me. ‘Shit, what now?’ I think. I can no longer follow what exactly is happening and try to focus. I feel a condom being put on my cock, the reason for which is totally unknown to me.

Back and forth

The next moment I feel my cock is in the mouth of ‘someone’, I suspect slave v. He makes back-and-forth movements, and I try to resist my cock becoming hard. I do not want this! After a few seconds Mistress Moriah whispers in my ear: ‘You do not want this, do you? I know, and yet I want you to do it, for me, your Mistress. So I am going to help you a little’. She puts clamps on both nipples, connected to each other by a little chain, then she puts it all under tension by pulling at it at intervals: I cannot take any more and try to count sheep so that I do not reach orgasm.

It turns out to be a vain hope: I come, and immediately afterwards I let my body hang in the restraints. ‘Look, that was not so difficult after all,’ I hear Mistress Moriah say sarcastically: ‘You have completed another task, I am absolutely stunned, and all of that for me!’ I cannot say anything and only want to be untied so that I can recover, preferably in my cell, in peace and quiet.

Enormously proud

Both Mistresses untie me, take the mask off my head and the condom off my cock and have slave v and me kneel in front of them. Mistress Priscilla speaks: ‘You make Mistress Moriah and me enormously proud by carrying out all the tasks so well, we had not expected this in our wildest dreams. Slave v: you are a real star: you do what you are told and leave the thinking to the Mistresses: that is exactly what this training is about. You, slave j, have not quite got it yet. What do you think, Mistress Moriah?’

At this question I shudder, because I know this will not be a ‘good news’ message for me. Mistress Moriah comes to stand in front of me, lifts my chin with her index finger and looks at me piercingly: ‘Dear slave j, you do your best, I can see that, but in that little head of yours you just keep brooding: when will that ever stop? But because you really did superbly today, I have a little present for you, especially for you. Close your eyes!’

The empty condom

I trust Mistress Moriah completely and close my eyes: ‘Mouth open and keep it open,’ I hear her say softly. I do what she says and feel ‘something’ dripping onto my tongue: ‘Swallow,’ I hear her say. I swallow the first drops, after which I get even more of that stuff on my tongue. Surely it is not ….?? ‘Close your mouth and swallow,’ she commands. With a shudder I swallow the stuff. ‘And open your little eyes, little slave’. In front of my eyes she holds up the empty condom: the moment I see it, both Mistresses burst out laughing.

After this confronting scene the female slaves take us back to our cell, where I am ordered to take off the shoes and lingerie. The slave chains me to the wall again, after which she leaves the cell: she takes the shoes and lingerie with her. I crawl into my bed and want to think about nothing…

A fine dinner

The evening seems at first to go the same way as yesterday: slave v and I whip up a fine dinner and both Mistresses are once again impressed by our cooking skills and above all our servitude. ‘Tonight it should be a quiet evening for you, don’t you think, little slaves?’ says Mistress Priscilla in a friendly tone. Slave v and I nod: her suggestion sounds sincere, there is no reason to think otherwise. After we have tidied everything up in the kitchen, we crawl back to the room where both Mistresses are still sitting enjoying the aftermath of the dinner.

They chat for a bit: slave v and I wait dutifully for what is to come. ‘Will you follow me?’ comes the slightly suspiciously sweet voice of Mistress Priscilla. Of course we do, full of anticipation: it will surely not be a little evening of card games with the four of us, but what do these ladies have in store for us? At the end of the corridor a stone staircase leads us to a passage where we have never been before: the clicking of both Mistresses’ heels makes an impression on me. I have a strange premonition, why? No idea.

Medieval torture chamber

Mistress Priscilla opens the door to a space that reminds me of a medieval torture chamber: I see a pillory, a cross and a rack; on the ceiling I spot a hoist. ‘Look, what a lovely space, little slaves, this is our playground, nice isn’t it?’ says Mistress Priscilla. I find it impressive, yes, but nice? I cannot escape the impression that these ‘aids’ are going to be used to give these two poor little slaves a ‘relaxing’ evening. The pleasure will surely be reserved for the Mistresses…

Mistress Moriah speaks: ‘We are going to play a game, I always like that, will you join in?’ Slave v and I realise that saying ‘no’ is not an option, so we both say ‘Yes, Mistress’. ‘Good, then we shall begin now, I am really looking forward to it. First I will explain the rules: here I have a die: you little slaves each throw it once: the number of pips you throw determines the ‘aid’ that will be used. Then all four of us throw once: we multiply the results of these throws together, and with the total score Mistress Priscilla and I are going to do something special. Any questions?’

Curious and impatient

Slave v and I have no questions, which makes Mistress cheerful. She continues: ‘Good, I have decided that slave j goes first, he is always so curious and impatient. Here is the die, do your best!’ I throw a four, after which all four of us may throw once: the die comes to rest on a two, a five, a four and a three. ‘That went well,’ Mistress Moriah remarks, let’s see what that gives; ‘The total score is 120, well done everyone. And the four slave j threw, oh dear, that is the hoist, you are unlucky there’.

Slave v gets off much better: his total score is 30 and for him the pillory comes out of the hat’. Slave v is led out of the dungeon, shortly afterwards I hear a door slam, probably he is in the cell next door.

On the hoist

‘Let the party begin’ Mistress Moriah shouts. Mistress Priscilla orders me to stand up and keep my hands above my head: she quickly fastens my wrist cuffs to the hoist and winds it up with a winch so that my body is stretched taut, my toes only just on the floor. Mistress Moriah walks to a cabinet in front of me and opens the doors: in the cabinet I see a complete collection of whips hanging: short, long, viciously thin, a solid paddle, too many to take in properly at a glance.

She picks up one of the whips and walks slowly towards me: ‘So, little slave, you do not have to do anything, just feel and endure, and Priscilla and I? Yes, we are going to indulge ourselves on that body of yours, 120 strokes no less! And do you know what is nice about it? You may scream, moan, rage, curse us, it is all allowed: nobody can hear you and nobody can help you. You are completely on your own, and we, your trainers, will do our utmost to let you discover another world, a world in which you may be completely yourself, with all your emotions and all your pain.

That is a pleasant thought, isn’t it?’ Just these words she speaks already take me to another world, and the ‘party’, as she calls it, has yet to begin…

Completely defenceless

How I manage it, I have no idea, but I survive. The Mistresses hit me with their whips on every spot of my body, I am completely defenceless and have to endure it, for them, for their pleasure. I feel that at times I scream my lungs out, but I do not get the idea that this has any effect at all on the lashes: the strokes follow one another in waves, the Mistresses are well attuned to each other and know exactly where and how hard they want to hit me.

Every now and then one of them comes to stand in front of me, holds my head and looks at me intently. Like that one time when Mistress Moriah looked deep into my eyes and said: ‘I am so glad you signed up for this training, because it is tailor-made for you! You need this to discover yourself, to find peace, to surrender to us and above all to learn how to serve your wife better.

Do you know that she was the one who had already contacted me about this training? After all, she knew you would sign up. Her tip to me was: do everything possible to let my husband discover himself to the maximum. Well, that is exactly what Mistress Priscilla and I are doing, and rest assured, we are nowhere near finished with you….’.

The last ten

The whipping goes on for a while until Mistress Priscilla calls out: ‘Ten more and count, slave’. I count: ten, nine, eight, …. After the last stroke I hang in the hoist, Mistress Moriah comes to stand in front of me and strokes my head and through my hair: ‘Very well done, I am so proud of you, slave j!’ I am untied and may crawl on my knees behind her. In my cell one of the female slaves is already waiting for me: she chains me to the wall, I let her do so in peace, then she closes the door: I even hear her say a sincere: ‘Good night’.

With the last remnants of energy I brush my teeth and drop into bed. Thankfully, it is the last night in Mistress Moriah’s Paradise.

A tangle of red welts

The night’s rest does me good, the pain of that unforgettable (but secretly rather delicious) whipping session has all but disappeared, although my body and legs are marked with a tangle of red welts. Standing is no problem, even walking back and forth in my cell goes reasonably well. I decide to sit quietly on my bed until one of the female slaves comes to fetch me, and think how strange it will be to lie in my own bed again tomorrow, next to my wife.

After ten minutes or so the door opens and the usual morning ritual repeats itself: she unhooks the chain from the wall and orders me to crawl after her towards the kitchen.

Once there she speaks: ‘Mistress Moriah and Priscilla expect another impressive breakfast from you, little slaves, so do your best’! Slave v and I more than deliver: we do our utmost to satisfy both ladies: oven-warm bread rolls, fresh fruit and likewise fresh orange juice, fresh coffee, it all goes to the dining room. During breakfast both Mistresses look contentedly at their little slaves: the training is starting to bear fruit.

Utter amazement

After breakfast Mistress Priscilla takes slave v with her: to our utter amazement we do not have to clear up this time. Mistress Moriah sits on a chair, looks my way with a smile and beckons me with her finger to come to her: I crawl forward and wait for what is to come. ‘Come closer, little slave, I do not bite. Kneel down, back straight, head up. Again with her index finger she lifts my chin: ‘How much you have learned in the past few days, who would ever have thought? But you know, you are not finished yet, today the last task follows.

I thought this one up especially for you, so do not let me down. Perhaps you are curious what the task involves, I can well imagine that. Very well, I will reveal the name of the task, it is called: ‘One with Nature’. An appropriate name, don’t you think? Certainly for an outdoorsman like you’.

Naked outside

‘One with Nature’: what am I supposed to imagine by that here in the middle of France? Mistress Moriah explains further: ‘You are going outside naked shortly, your wrist and ankle cuffs of course stay on; by the door there are work boots, which you put on. There you will also find pruning shears, a pair of work gloves, a tape measure and binding twine, which you take with you. You follow the female slave who accompanies you outside and in the adjoining wood you go looking for bramble bushes: from those bramble bushes you cut off branches that must be between 1.00m. and 1.20m. long: you focus on the thicker branches.

You collect exactly thirty branches, strip off the side shoots and little leaves, bundle them and bring them back: I will wait for you in this room’. She looks at me, conjures a smile onto her face and gives me a wink: I wonder what that is supposed to mean. Noiselessly one of the female slaves has come in: she stands behind me and gestures for me to follow her. At the door I see the said items lying there and I put on the boots. ‘I will go with you and keep filming you,’ I hear the female slave say: ‘The Mistress does not want to miss anything of this task’.

Bramble bushes

The female slave and I walk outside, the sun is shining abundantly, the birds are having their say. I focus on bramble bushes, which I find after a little under five minutes of walking. I put on the gloves and get to work: I decide to first cut thick and medium-thick branches of approx. 1.50m. from the bush, and then cut them to the right size afterwards. ‘This task is a piece of cake’ I think to myself, ‘Nice outdoors in the sunshine, I wonder what hellish adventures my buddy has to endure right now’.

After a little under half an hour I have cut the thirty branches, now it is a matter of cutting them to the right size, removing the side shoots and leaves and counting once more. Incidentally it is good that I am wearing proper gloves, because those thorns of these bramble bushes hurt nastily. After this job is also done, I proudly go back to the house with a little bundle of thirty branches under my arm: in the house, on my little knees again, I drag the bundle of branches behind me on a line.

As I crawl into Mistress Moriah’s room, she looks at me delighted: ‘Let’s see what lovely things you are bringing me!’ She unties the bundle, picks up a measuring rule and does a quick check: ‘You have done well, the size is fine and I assume without doubt that there are exactly thirty, that is right, isn’t it?’ I answer: ‘Certainly, Mistress, exactly thirty’. She replies cryptically: ‘Good, then we will now begin part two of this task’.

Hemp rope

Mistress Moriah asks me to raise my arms in the air: after I have done so, she folds a length of hemp rope double and ties it fairly loosely around my upper body, right under my armpits; between my shoulder blades she pulls the ends of the rope through the resulting loop and tightens it. She leads these ends over my shoulders and pulls them through under the rope on my chest; she leads the rope to the back and fixes it there. In the same way she wraps a hemp rope around my waist, brings the ends forward past my cock and back again, after which she expertly knots everything.

‘Let’s see, I think that looks good,’ I hear her say. I have no idea what the point of this little work of art is and decide not to comment on it. ‘And now come those branches of yours,’ Mistress Moriah remarks with a laugh: she puts on long black leather gloves and has me kiss them.

One by one she pushes the branches behind the rope at the top and bottom, creating a beautiful (and for me above all painful) bit of nature. She pushes the branches in everywhere: on my torso, on the sides of my body, on my back…. She says it gets difficult to find a place for the last ten branches, but with some pushing and pulling she manages.

Pink film

‘The fun is not over yet, little slave, this is only the beginning’. She picks up a roll of pink bondage film, asks me to keep my arms in the air and then wraps my upper body in the film: not tight, but just enough that I can feel those nasty spikes properly. ‘Are you doing all right, little slave? Good, because when I am done with this, there is a surprise. After applying a few layers of film, Mistress Moriah is evidently satisfied because she cuts off the film and sticks the end to my body: she goes to stand in front of me and looks contentedly at her masterpiece. ‘Walk with me now,’ she commands.

By my hair she leads me to a new room where I see only one ‘thing’ standing, a construction of black steel tubes. ‘Do you know what this is?’ Mistress Moriah asks scornfully: I shake my head. ‘This is a bondage frame to which I am going to fasten you firmly. Stand with your back against the steel tubes, arms up’. Mistress Moriah and one of the female slaves who came along stand on either side of the frame: the slave has a long piece of rope in her hands, ties it to the frame and passes it in front of me to Mistress Moriah, who hands it back behind my back to her slave.

The pain is intense

This action is repeated dozens of times, the rope being pulled tight by both ladies each time: the thorns bite deeper and deeper into my body. A second and third piece of rope is taken so that besides my torso my legs are also completely immobilised.

Finally my hands are led backwards and my wrist cuffs are fastened together. The pain on my torso is intense, in my head I go looking for a place where I can put it away so that I can forget it, but I cannot. I whimper, moan, scream and start to cry. ‘Look, now exactly what I want is happening,’ I hear Mistress Moriah say. ‘Time for the apotheosis! Slave, you know what you have to do’.

Tabasco!

I feel Mistress Moriah making room at my cock: with the pruning shears she removes the branches that are evidently in the way. She removes the CB and leans against me: ‘Do you know what I like so much, slave j? That I get to do all this to you and know that you enjoy it. Although… I do not know whether you will enjoy this finale’. The female slave hands Mistress Moriah something, unfortunately I cannot see what it is: shortly afterwards Mistress Moriah stands close to me again: ‘And do you know what is even nicer? That I am now going to smear your cock and balls properly with tabasco, and not sparingly either!’

I feel the cold stuff on my cock and balls, after which she rubs it in with her leather gloves. ‘Once is not enough, is it, do you feel anything yet?’ I shake my head, after which she applies a second amount. Now the tabasco starts to do its work: the whole business is on fire and I do not know where to put myself: Mistress Priscilla has come into the room and cannot stop laughing: Mistress Moriah is having the time of her life.

I float

For half an hour (this is a wild guess of mine, it could also have been two or three hours) I find myself somewhere in the universe: I float and keep floating, no idea where I came from or where I am going. Then eventually the pain ebbs away: I am untied, hands catch me and let me come round on the floor.

‘Lick my boots,’ I hear Mistress Moriah say: I do what she tells me. ‘Well done, slave j, I am proud of you. Your entry for next year is already booked…’.

Specifications: Femdom fantasy contest 2025

Number of words

13,239

Word combination used

1)
Wood – reluctance – chess – lingerie – confirm

Entry number

FFC-003

Received on

7 January 2025

Submitted by

slave j

Source

Text: slave j
Image: 123rf.com