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Theresa wandered over to one of the males and looked across his bare form. The sight of his flaccid shaft reminded her of the ravishing she had suffered at the hands of her own kind.
She grabbed the cock and squeezed tightly. Increasing her vice-like hold, she made the slave squirm and jolt. His cries of anguish were subdued by his crushing hood, but the shuddering of his body more than revealed his misery.
"You'll suffer, too," she promised, and clapped a hand to her bracelet to reveal a long cabinet. The interior was stocked with clothing, apparatus, and weapons of torture and discipline. Theresa took down a set of fishnet stockings, looked over the fine weave, and flung them absently to the Theocrat.
"Put these on and get on your knees, slave," she uttered, and continued to fish around for her desired implements.
Theresa closed her hands about a hood and a gag, and chose to apply them before continuing. She wanted to deprive the alien woman of any clue as to the rest of her ordeal and then Theresa could ease her own anger before trying to affect her situation.
Gathering in the sides of the latex sheath, Theresa walked back and stood before the female. Towering over her, the feeling of control coursed through her veins like a hot tide.
Theresa drew the sculpted bag down over the Theocrat's face with rough tugs. Once hauled into position it cut off all sight and muffled her hearing. Only apertures at nose and mouth granted breath, and Theresa was intent on hampering both. But first there was something she needed to know.
"What is your name, slave?"
"Khara, Mistress."
Theresa smiled. She didn't want to know this creature as the HighTheocrat, rather she wanted her normal name, her everyday private identity. She wanted a name for the individual, not the name of the post. It was the first step in dragging her down from the lofty and powerful pinnacle with which she had become so dissatisfied. Even the other members of the Holy Order would only know her title, but Theresa now knew her normal, banal name.
Theresa lifted the gag. It was a construct of sturdy leather and lifting up the front plate, she presented the internal face to her captive's lips. The plate spat out a smoothed and sizeable box with a hollow interior that beckoned for something to capture and keep.
"Open your mouth and slip your tongue into the hole," she demanded.
Anonymous
Posted August 5, 2010
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Anonymous
Posted August 9, 2010
No text was provided for this review.
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