Club Domme

by subnancy

Prologue:  Nancy, a graduate student in neuroscience, has had submissive fantasies for as long as she can remember.  As a child she used her jump rope to tie her legs tightly together to accompany fantasies of being bound and abused.  When she grew older the Internet opened a whole new world of captivating photos and videos.  She had a chat-room romance with Arnold, a man from her city, and she agreed to meet him for lunch.  His proposition was straightforward.  He was happily married with three children and lived in the suburbs, but his wife did not share his interest in BDSM.  From time to time he traveled on business and would like for Nancy to accompany him.  In return he would rent an apartment for her near the University.  Being strapped for money, she agreed.  He seemed to be part of the BDSM community in all of the cities they visited.


Table of Contents

1.  Rope Walk

2.  Needle Ball

3.  Black & Bi


Chapter 1. Rope Walk

Nancy was curious and a little uneasy as Arnold drove the rental car into a sleazy area of industrial buildings and found a parking place in front of a nondescript three-story building. 

“This party is a little different,” he said.  “A group of dominant women, called ‘Club Domme,’ rents an empty warehouse here a few times a year for a party.  Some are Pros, since there is good money in that, but many are not.”

“Dominant women?  Then why are we here?”

“Most of their subs are submissive men.  They want more submissive girls, so dominant men are invited if they bring along a submissive girl to share.”

“To share?”

“Well, yes.  It’s a BDSM party after all, and subs are available for scenes.  Don’t worry.  I’ll watch over you.  You’ll have fun.”

They entered the building and were met by three women at a desk.  On the wall behind the desk were signs saying “Girls rule, subs drool,” and “Fotos Forbidden.”  Both Arnold and Nancy had to show identification and sign a legal document that essentially absolved the club from responsibility for anything that might occur. 

They entered a large open area with a number of people milling about.  In time a dark-haired woman came over and greeted Arnold with a hug.  She wore short black dress, black heels, and Nancy noticed a menacing black crop hanging from her belt.

“Great to see you again, Karen.  Are you still president of Club Domme?”  he asked. 

“Yes.  ‘Till the end of the year.”

“This is Nancy, my new submissive.”

“How submissive is she?” Karen asked looking Nancy up and down.

“Very.  Nancy, kiss Mistress Karen’s shoes!”

Nancy promptly sank to her knees and kissed the toe of each shoe.

“Nice.  Stand up, Nancy, and let’s have a look at you.” Nancy stood and Karen continued, “Lock your fingers behind your head.”

When she complied, Karen lifted Nancy’s short blue skirt. 

“Subs don’t wear panties here,” she said pulling the skimpy white panties down until they fell around Nancy’s ankles.  “We prefer for subs to be shaved, but she’s nicely trimmed and it matches her red hair, so I guess that’s OK.”

Nancy was mortified and she felt her face grow hot with embarrassment.

Mistress Karen cupped Nancy’s breasts in her hands and squeezed them gently.  “Goldilocks tits, not too big and not too small,” Mistress Karen said. “Now turn around.”  As Nancy turned, she lifted the skirt and stroked Nancy’s buttocks.  “Nice ass.” She slapped the right buttock hard and dropped the skirt.

 “You have good taste, Arnold,” she said.  Then she pulled him aside and the two talked for a few minutes in a soft voice that Nancy could not understand, but she saw Arnold nodding his head in agreement.

When Arnold returned, Nancy unclasped her fingers as he picked up her panties and put them in his pocket.  “I volunteered you for a little demo,” he said offhandedly.


“Karen said they usually start the party with a demonstration of some BDSM practice, just to get things going.  She said it was a rope walk.”

“Rope walk?”

“I think you just walk along a rope, which will give people a chance to see who you are.”

Karen tapped the handle of her crop against the raised platform on which she stood and the room went silent.

“Welcome to the umpteenth Club Domme party.  Our demo this evening will be the Rope Walk, and Master Arnold has generously volunteered his sub to be the model.  This is her first Club Domme party, so it will give everyone a chance to see her.   Come up here, Nancy, and let’s have a look at you.”

Astonished at the sudden attention, Nancy backed away, but Arnold took her hand, led her to the center of the room and helped her step up on the platform next to Karen.

“Hands out,” Karen ordered.

 Nancy meekly held out her hands and Karen buckled a pair of black-leather cuffs on her wrists, and then she pulled Nancy’s arms behind her back and clipped the cuffs together.  Nancy pulled against the intractable cuffs and her stomach twisted into a tight little knot with the realization that she had lost control, that what happened to her now was Karen’s choice.

 “Now who would like to see Nancy’s tits?” Karen asked and there was a unanimous response of “Yes” from the group of observers.

“Well, the majority rules,” Karen said. She unfastened the buttons on Nancy’s white blouse and pushed it down her arms against the cuffs.

“She’s wearing a bra!” a masculine voice complained.

“We can take care of that,” Karen said as she took a pair of scissors from the box near her feet and swiftly snipped the shoulder straps and opened the clasp, letting the white lace bra fall to the floor.  And then she fastened a strap around Nancy’s arms, opened the cuffs, removed the blouse, refastened the cuffs and removed the strap.  The man who had complained clapped his hands, and Nancy was sure she was blushing.  Mistress Karen opened the zipper on the side of Nancy’s skirt letting it fall around her ankles.

“Step out of the skirt and push off your shoes.” Nancy obeyed and stood totally naked in front of the crowd.  “Now turn around slowly so the nice people can see you.”

Nancy turned, feeling totally exposed, self-conscious and embarrassed. She pulled against the cuffs that cruelly frustrated her instinct to use her arms to shield her breasts and pubes.

“Mistress Gail and Mistress Sharon will direct the Rope Walk Demo.   Will they please step up on the platform?” Two women came up and stood beside Karen.

“Mistress Gail is a long-time member of the club and an experienced dominatrix.”  A tall brunette woman in her late 30s bowed.  She wore tight spandex pants and a snug sweater that barely covered her ample breasts.  

“Mistress Sharon has recently joined us from New York, where she had extensive rope-walk experience.  I expect she will show up some new tricks.”  A woman with brown hair, who was a little overweight and appeared to be around 30, took a bow.  She wore a black dress with buttons down the front. 

Nancy noticed that both Mistresses had similar crops hanging from their belt.  It was a thin somewhat flexible rod about two feet long with a leather handle at the top and a leather tongue about two inches square at the bottom, all black.

“Now that our model is properly dressed, I’ll turn her over to them,” Karen said, stepping off the platform.

Mistress Gail grasped Nancy by the arm and led her to the wall on one side of the large room, while Mistress Sharon went to the opposite side of the room where a rope was coiled on the floor with one end tied to a metal ring about waist high on the wall.  She pulled the other end of the rope across the room and threaded the rope between Nancy’s legs then up between her arms over the link between her wrist cuffs.  Then she pushed the end of the rope through a metal ring on the wall and pulled it tight.  Nancy felt the rope slide up her leg and settle against her labia, and as Mistress Sharon continued to pull she was forced up on her toes.  She slowly let the rope out until Nancy’s heels just touched the floor, and then she secured it to a bracket on the wall.

 “Now, all you have to do is walk across the room to the other wall,” Mistress Sharon said, and then she whispered, “The rope is lubricated so it won’t do any damage.”

Nancy looked at the rope stretched a long distance across the room and saw a knot about every foot.  She pulled on her wrists and found that the rope, going over her cuffs, was pulled tight over her labia and up over her rectum.  She looked up and saw a group of people all smiling at her predicament.

 “Now get walking!” Mistress Sharon said, unhooking the crop from her belt.  Nancy squealed at the sharp sting as the leather tip of the crop hit her right thigh, and she slowly moved forward feeling the strange sensation of the rope moving beneath her labia and up over her anus.  She stopped and again felt the sting of the crop.  She moved ahead an inch at a time until she came to the first knot.  She stopped and again felt the bite of the crop.

Nancy tried to ignore the quiet chatter from the observers until a loud masculine voice said, “I’ll bet the slut will just love having that big knot up her cunt.”  She was suddenly overwhelmed with humiliation.

She stopped with the knot pressing against her labia. Mistress Sharon encouraged her by tapping the crop against her breast.  By standing on her toes and leaning back to lower her cuffs, Nancy managed to slowly move over the knot.  The feeling was different from the smooth rope, more intrusive and, in a strange way, intensely erotic.

After she had passed another two knots, Mistress Gail tied a string around each of Nancy’s nipples.  Nancy winced as the loop at the end of the string was pulled tight, and there was muted laughter from the spectators.  Mistress Gail then tied a heavy metal lock to the end of each string and set them swinging.  The erotic pain in her nipples combined with the sensuous feel of the rope between her legs and the humiliation of being sexually tormented in front of a group of strangers was almost more than she could stand.  Only the sting of the crop kept her moving.

Mistress Gail lifted the locks a few inches, let them drop, and Nancy squealed.

“Do the weights hurt your little nips?” she asked, and Nancy mumbled, “Yes.”

“Well, we can cure that.  Just hold them up with your teeth,” she said lifting the strings up to Nancy’s lips, and she bit down on them.

After struggling with two more knots, Mistress Gail pressed a vibrator against her clitoris.  Her body responded and one of the strings slipped out of her mouth.  The sharp pain in her nipple almost made her lose the other string, but she bit down hard on it. 

“Keep moving,” Mistress Sharon said, swinging the crop.  Nancy squealed and the sting slipped out of her mouth and the other lock fell.

As Nancy came to the next knot, Mistress Gail grabbed the rope, pulled it hard and Nancy rose up on her toes.  She kept pulling the rope until she made it over the knot.

“She does well walking the tight rope,” she said, letting go of the rope.  “Perhaps a little Icy Hot will make the next knot more interesting.” 

She held up what looked like a toothpaste tube for all to see, and then she squirted an ample amount of the blue paste on the next knot.  At first the paste felt cool and soothing and it made it easier to slip over the knot, but then the coolness morphed into burning heat as the knot slid between her labia and up over her anus. 

“Oh, God, no.  Please.  I can’t stand it,” Nancy moaned.  

Mistress Sharon held a red rubber ball with a black leather strap through the center in front of Nancy’s mouth.  “Open up!” she said, but Nancy pressed her lips tightly together.  Mistress Sharon grasped Nancy’s nose between thumb and forefinger and squeezed hard.  Slowly Nancy opened her mouth and Mistress Sharon pushed the ball between her teeth and buckled the strap, pulling it tight.  The intrusive ball pressed deeply into Nancy’s mouth like an unending French kiss.

As she moved slowly along the rope, Mistress Sharon made an inviting gesture and the observers became more active: swinging the weights on her nipples and exploring her body.

When, at last, she reached the other wall, Mistress Sharon released the rope from the wall, pulled it from Nancy’s cuffs and let it drop on the floor.

“She did well, don’t you think?” she asked the audience. She looked at her watch and said, “It took her only 45 minutes to get across the room.”  There was a brief round of applause.

Mistress Sharon grasped Nancy’s shoulders, backed her against the wall and then clipped her cuffs onto the ring that had held the rope.  She made an inviting gesture toward the helpless girl and walked away.

The observers gathered around her, exploring her body with their hands.  Fingers stroked her labia and clitoris seeking effects of the rope, but they had a different effect.  The burning of the Icy Hot had faded, but it returned as strong as ever each time a finger stroked it.

Finally Arnold came to her side and said, “She has done a good job.  Now I think she needs a rest.”  He took off the ball gag and wiped the drool from her chin with his handkerchief, and then he released her from the wall and led her away from the group.

“Do you want to leave?” He asked sympathetically.

Nancy thought for a while and finally said, “If I may have my clothes back, I’ll stay a while longer.

“Good girl!” Arnold exclaimed.

Chapter 2. Needle Ball

Arnold led Nancy to the corner of the large room where her clothes were neatly stacked on a chair. 

“You may put on your skirt, blouse and shoes, but nothing else,” He said, and Nancy obeyed, remembering that her bra had been ruined anyway.  “And you need a collar.  Turn around.”  He took her collar from his pocket and buckled it around her neck.

He led her to the refreshment table, picked up a piece of cheese and held it up to her mouth.  She ate it and said, “Thank you, Sir.”

A woman wearing a short black leather skirt, black blouse and black boots, led a naked man, with wrists cuffed behind his back, over to the table by a chain leash fastened to his collar. 

I’m Mistress Barbara,” She said to Arnold.  “I haven’t seen you here before.  Are you new?”

“Yes, first time here, but I’ve been in the life a long time.  I’m Master Arnold and this is sub Nancy.”  

“Nice to meet you, Nancy.  I watched you do the rope walk.  You did well,” Mistress Barbara said.  “Slaves call me Miss Barb.  Perhaps you will have the opportunity to see why.”  She then turned around to talk with Arnold, still holding the chain attached to the naked man’s collar.

The naked man, who looked about 40, slowly moved next to Nancy and whispered, “Touch my penis.” When Nancy just looked at him, he begged, “Please, touch me.  My hands are cuffed, and I really need it.” 

Nancy lowered her hand and lightly stroked his partially erect penis with the tips of her fingers, and she felt it begin to respond. 

“Oh yes… more…,” the man moaned and Nancy lightly teased the underside of the head with her finger tip.  “Oh… yes… yes,” the man moaned.

“What’s going on over there?” Miss Barb demanded in an angry voice.  “Did I give you permission to play with that girl?” she asked the man.

“No, Miss Barb,” he said, backing quickly away from Nancy.

“You don’t let your slave fondle any man that comes along, do you Arnold?” she asked accusingly, and Arnold shook his head decisively “No.”

“I think these two love birds are ready for a game of Needle Ball.  What do you say, Arnold?”

“Sounds interesting, but what’s Needle Ball?”

Miss Barb pulled him aside and the two chatted for a few minutes.  Nancy couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she saw that Arnold was nodding his head in agreement.  The naked man stayed some distance from Nancy as Miss Barb glanced at him from time to time.  After a short while, Miss Barb walked away.

“Needle Ball sounds like an interesting game,” Arnold said as he returned to Nancy.  “But your blouse will have to come off.  Let’s get it off before Barbara returns.”  He started opening the buttons on the front of Nancy’s blouse.  When he finished Nancy held her arms back and let the blouse slide off her shoulders.  Arnold pulled it off her arms and put it on a nearby chair, and then he pulled her wrists behind her back and fastened the cuffs.

“Good.  I see she’s getting ready for the game,” Miss Barb said when she returned carrying a leather briefcase.  She opened the briefcase and took out two lengths of rope about eight feet long.  She looped the middle of one of the ropes behind Nancy’s neck and the ends hung down beside her breasts almost to the floor.  She pulled the ropes under Nancy’s arms, passed the ends around the link between her wrists cuffs, and then up and under the rope at the back of Nancy’s neck.  When she pulled on the rope Nancy’s wrists were pulled up above her waist with elbows sticking out on either side.

“For Needle Ball we want the hands up out of the way,” she explained.  “She’s pretty flexible.  I think she can do a reverse prayer.”   She pulled harder on the rope raising Nancy’s hands up her back and bringing her elbows in until her fingers were pointing up and her palms were together as in prayer, and then Miss Bark tied the rope securely.  The stretched muscles in her arms and shoulders ached in a way Nancy had not felt before.

Miss Barb tied the naked man’s wrists in the same way, but could only get his hands a bit above his waist.  And then she opened the clasp at Nancy’s waist, pulled down the zipper and the skirt fell down around her ankles.  Miss Barb stood back and looked Nancy up and down.

“Nice slave you have here, Arnold,” she said.  “Her tits are about right and the trimmed pubic hair doesn’t cover too much.  A slave shouldn’t be allowed to hide anything.  Now let’s get the two love birds together.”  She picked something up from the briefcase and then pushed the naked man toward Nancy.  When Nancy felt his chest touching her breasts, Miss Barb put a hand on the back of each one and pushed their bodies tightly together.  She guided Nancy’s head over the man’s shoulder and pushed her closer until they were standing cheek to cheek and Nancy felt the bristles on his chin against her face.  Miss Barb attached a small metal clasp to the man’s collar and pushed the back of Nancy’s neck until she was able to slip the clasp through the ring on Nancy’s collar and lock them together.

Nancy felt the man’s chest flattening her breasts and, as he moved his hips, she felt his erect penis rubbing her belly.  Her body responded to the firm masculine presence and she was no longer aware of her aching shoulders.

“Look at the love birds making love, but that’s not how they do it in the Needle Game,” Miss Barb said, reaching to the briefcase and lifting a red rubber ball, about three inches in diameter, dangling from a string.  She held it up for Arnold to see.  Nancy couldn’t see it, but she heard Miss Barb describe it.

“The ball swings on the string,” she said, “and notice that around the sides of the ball are many needles sticking out.  I used pliers to push ordinary sewing needles into the rubber with the pointed end sticking out, of course.  Slaves don’t like to the prick of the needles,” she explained, holding the ball near the two attached bodies.  Nancy and the man twisted frantically trying, unsuccessfully, to avoid the sharp pain of the ball swinging against bare skin.  As she moved the ball between the joined bodies they moved their hips apart as far as their linked collars would permit.  Miss Barb looped the string over the clasp joining the collars and moved the ball up and down.

“I think the right level is just below the navel,” she said, tying the string off.  “The ball can swing freely and it makes them stick their ass out about as far as it will go.”  She set the ball swinging and both Nancy and the man bent forward as far as their locked collars would allow.  When the sharp needles touched her tender belly, Nancy pushed her hips back pressing her chin against the man’s shoulder and her collar painfully against the back of her neck.  She spread her feet apart, leaned against the man and tried to stay perfectly still as the ball slowly began to hit her less hard and less frequently.

“Nice position, don’t you think?  The little ball keeps the love birds apart in a stable triangle, and they have to spread their legs for balance.” Miss Barb said, and a masculine voice replied, “Yea.  But slap her ass.  I want to see how she moves.”  Nancy looked around as best she was able, and saw a group of spectators standing in a circle around them.

“All in good time,” Miss Barb said.  “We’re not in a hurry.”  She plucked the string with her finger and Nancy strained every muscle trying to escape the vicious bite of the needles.

Miss Barb took a leather strap from the briefcase, held it up for the observers to see, and then held it in front of Nancy’s face. 

“The tawse is my favorite implement for Needle Ball.  A strip of thick leather rolled for a handle at one end and split into two straps at the business end.  It leaves two wide red stripes on the skin.  It’s a twofer.  We get two slaps for one swing.”  There was scattered laughter from the observers.  She held the split end of the tawse in front of Nancy’s mouth.  “Open up!” she ordered.  “Get it nice and wet and taste the leather.  You’ll taste it again in a different way.”  Nancy opened her mouth and the leather strap was pushed inside.  There was the distinctive taste of leather, and her tongue felt the smooth surface of the straps and the sharp edges where it was split.  It seemed thicker than she had expected, and then it was gone.

 “Nice and wet,” Miss Barb said, holding the tawse in front of the man’s mouth.  “I’ve brought you a kiss from your lover.  Take it in and savor it, because that’s all you’re going to get from her.” The man opened his mouth and the strap was pushed inside.

“You’ll each get ten slaps of the tawse and you have to count.” Miss Barb instructed.  “Do you know how to count, Nancy?  You say like ‘One. Thank you, Sir.’  If you don’t say it loudly enough for everyone to hear, we do it over.  If you lose count, we start back at the beginning.”

“Only ten?” a masculine voice asked derisively.

“It’s still early,” Miss Barb explained. “We don’t want to wear the slaves out too soon.  It’s a long evening.”

She brought the tawse down hard on the man’s proffered buttocks.  He pushed against Nancy’s shoulders setting the ball swinging, and then said loudly, “One. Thank you Ma’am.”

Miss Barb handed the tawse to Arnold, who was watching Nancy cringe each time the needles hit her belly.  He waited until the ball no longer touched her, and then he slapped her buttocks with the tawse.  It was not a hard blow, but it stung and she moved enough to start the ball swinging again.  She managed to mumble, “One. Thank you, Sir.”

“That’s not loud enough!” Miss Barb exclaimed. “I could hardly hear it.  Slap her again, Arnold.”

Arnold swung the tawse lightly against Nancy’s buttocks and she was able to hold still enough to avoid the needles.  In a loud voice she said, “One. Thank you, Sir.”

“He’s coddling her.  There are no stripes on her ass.” It was the same masculine voice that earlier had complained “Only ten?”

“We don’t coddle slaves here, Arnold,” Miss Barb said as though correcting a child.  “Give me the tawse.”

Without hesitation the leather struck the man’s buttocks with a loud thud. He whimpered and twisted setting the ball swinging.  Soon he said, “Two. Thank you Ma’am.”

Miss Barb ceremoniously handed the tawse to the man who had complained about coddling.  He walked a few steps to the joined naked couple with a big smile on his face and stopped the ball from swinging.  The joined couple straightened up a bit to a more comfortable position.

“I’m Master Tom,” he said, fondling Nancy’s breast with his free hand.  “What’s your name, slave?”

“Nancy, Sir.”

“Isn’t that ‘slave Nancy’?  A slave should always acknowledge her status.  Now what’s your name, slave?” he asked pinching her nipple hard.

“Slave Nancy, Sir.”

“That’s better.  Now stick your ass out so I can see it.” When Nancy did not respond quickly enough he slapped her buttocks hard and said, “Stick it out, slave, or I’ll swing the ball.”  Nancy bent forward as far as her collar would permit.  He stroked the smooth white skin. 

“Just as I thought,” he said.  “There’s not a mark to be seen.”  He pushed his index finger into the crevice of her buttocks and slowly slid it down between her labia until it found her clitoris.

“Well, what do you know?” he said in a loud voice.  “The slut is dripping wet down there.  Needle ball turns her on, so I’m going to give her what she’s asking for.”

 He stood up, patted her buttocks with the tawse, and said, “Ass out, slave!”  He swung he tawse wide and flipped it with his wrist just before it struck Nancy’s buttocks with a loud crack. She squealed and twisted making the ball swing.  It took her a moment to recover enough to say, “Two. Thank you, Sir.”

With a slight bow he handed the tawse back to Miss Barb, and gave Arnold a smug grin.  Miss Barb wasted little time delivering a hard blow to the naked man, and then with a haughty glance at Arnold she handed the tawse back to Master Tom.

Master Tom stopped the ball from swinging; allowing Nancy to straighten up a bit, and then he leaned over and pushed a finger into her vagina.  He pulled it out and then pushed two fingers in and then three.  He stood and held the three fingers up for everyone to see.

“She’s getting wetter,” he said.  He held the three fingers in front of Nancy’s mouth and said, “Clean ‘em off, slave.”  Nancy took the fingers in her mouth and ran her tongue over them.  “She does a good job,” he said to the group. “She’ll make a good cock sucker.”

He pulled his fingers from her mouth and plucked the string holding the ball.  Both Nancy and the man bent forward as much as possible when they felt the pricks of the needles. 

“That’s it, slave,” he said.  “Stick that ass out and show the people your two broad red stripes.”  Nancy was sure she was blushing.

He swung the tawse hard against the buttock without stripes, and Nancy squealed as needles pricked her belly.  It took a moment before she was able to say, “Three.  Thank you, Sir.”

He passed the tawse to Miss Barb, who was looking at the man’s partially erect penis.  She teased his penis with the tawse until it stood erect and hard.

“Get that cock up,” she said.  “Your girl friend can’t see it, but the rest of us can, and she might think you don’t love her with a limp cock.”  She slapped his buttocks hard with the tawse and again Nancy felt the needle pricks.

Miss Barb and Master Tom continued to exchange the tawse and its sting grew stronger as it struck the same place for the second or third time.  Try as they would, Nancy and the man were not able to remain still enough to avoid the needle pricks. Finally, Nancy was relieved to be able to say, “Ten.  Thank you, Sir.”

“The slaves will remain in position to give everyone a chance to examine their red asses and pink-dotted bellies,” Miss Barb announced. 

Immediately Nancy felt hands on her breasts and stomach, and hard slaps on her buttocks.  Someone pushed the ball saying, “Asses out.”

“Show me that great cock sucking skill,” a man said pushing his middle three fingers into Nancy’s mouth.

“I think she’s had enough.  Can you wind it up?” Arnold said to Miss Barb when the inspection showed no sign of slowing down.  She nodded, “Yes.”

Miss Barb pushed a man out of the way, untied the string from the link joining the collars, and put the needle ball back in the briefcase.  Nancy stood up straight, her muscles aching from the strained position, and she felt the man’s chest against her breasts.  He moved his hips massaging Nancy’s belly with his erect penis. 

“Enough of that lovey-dovey stuff,” Miss Barb said as she unfastened the clip holding their collars together and pushed them apart.  Then she untied Nancy’s arms saying, “I need my rope back.”  Nancy stroked her burning buttocks when her cuffed wrists were no longer held high on her back.

Miss Barb put the rope in the briefcase and took out a bottle of Bactine and squirted a generous quantity of the antiseptic onto a tissue.  She rubbed the cold tissue over the pink dots on Nancy’s belly, some of which showed a small drop of blood. 

“Not to worry,” she said.  “The needles were sterilized and this will prevent any infection.”  She motioned to Arnold who quickly came to Nancy’s side.

“Slave Nancy was a great player in the needle-ball game.  You are fortunate to have such a pretty and submissive slave.  I now return her to your care,” Miss Barb said to Arnold, who replied, “Thank you.  I am very proud of her.” 

Arnold picked up the skirt and blouse and led Nancy back to the corner where the rest of her clothes were on a chair. 

“May I ask a question, Sir?” Nancy asked.

“Yes, of course.”

“Who was the naked man my collar was fastened to?”

“I have no idea.  I expect we shall never know.  That was quite an ordeal.  Are you up to staying a while longer, or would you like to go back to the hotel?” he asked considerately.

“I’ll stay if you won’t volunteer me for any more games for a while.”

“Good girl!” he said.

Chapter 3. Black & Bi

“I feel horribly naked, Sir.  May I put on my clothes?” Nancy asked politely.

“Okay.  I like modesty in a sub, but don’t overdo it.  Skirt and blouse only,” he said, unfastening her cuffs.

Nancy slipped the plain white sleeveless blouse over her shoulders and fastened the four buttons down the front, and then she stepped into the short blue skirt, pulled it up over the bottom of the blouse and fastened it with the zipper on the side.  She pushed her bare feet into her black heels, hoping Master wouldn’t object.

Arnold led Nancy to the refreshment table.  She was dipping a tortilla chip into the guacamole, when a striking blond woman in her 30s moved uncomfortably close to Nancy.  She wore a short black skirt and a tight black bodice that emphasized her ample breasts.  Nancy shivered when she saw the ominous crop hanging from her belt, like most of the other Dommes.  It had a leather handle at the top and a leather tongue about two inches square at the bottom, joined by a thin, somewhat flexible, rod about two feet long.  It was totally black making it all the more menacing.

“I’m Mistress Donna,” she said, lightly stroking Nancy’s cheek.  “I’ve been watching you for a while.  You’re a good sub, and very attractive as well.  You’re bi, of course?”

Nancy shook her head, No.

“A submissive girl has to be bi!   Would you like a little training?”

“No, thank you, Ma’am.”

“Then maybe you’d rather have a big black cock.”

Nancy was shaking her head emphatically, No, as Mistress Donna motioned to a black man standing nearby.  He was barefoot and naked except for collar, cuffs and a tight pair of pink women’s panties, obscenely distorted by his masculine parts.  He bowed to Mistress Donna, saying “At your service, Mistress.”

“Take off your panties and show slave Nancy your big black cock.” Mistress Donna ordered, and he obediently slid the tight panties down his legs and pushed them away with his foot.  Nancy was surprised at the size of the limp penis hanging between his legs.  Mistress Donna grasped the tip of the penis with her fingers and slid the foreskin in and out.  Slowly the penis grew in size and soon it was sticking straight out, larger by far than any that Nancy had ever seen.

“Well, look at the white slave gazing passionately at the big black cock.  We’ll have fun with that.” Mistress Donna pulled Nancy’s wrists together and started to fasten the cuffs.  

“No, please… Master Arnold said I could have a break,” Nancy exclaimed, jerking her hands away.

“Well, we’ll see about that.  Where’s your Master?”

Nancy pointed, and Mistress Donna went over, grasped Arnold’s arm and pulled him away from the table.  Nancy watched the animated conversation, whishing she could hear.

Soon Arnold drew Nancy aside and said, “Mistress Donna complained that you insulted her.  What’s the problem?”

“She wanted a lesbian scene, and then she brought in a black man.  I don’t do les and I don’t do black.”

“Really?  What’s wrong with les and black?”

“Well, I’m heterosexual, as you well know, and I grew up in Alabama.”

“I didn’t realize you were so prejudiced.  You should be open to new experiences.”

“I’m not prejudiced, and I do like new experiences. I just don’t want to make love with a woman and a black man.”

“Well, in that case, this may do you some good.  Turn around.”

As she slowly turned around he pulled her wrists behind her back and fastened the cuffs.

“Let’s give it a try.  I won’t be far away,” he said, motioning to Mistress Donna.

 “Nancy has reconsidered and will accept your generous offer.” He said when Mistress Donna arrived. He turned to Nancy and said, “Tell the good Mistress you are sorry for insulting her and that you will be happy to submit to her wishes.”

Nancy looked at the floor feeling dispirited and betrayed. “I’m sorry I offended you,” she mumbled. 

“Don’t worry.  I know how to handle insolent slaves.  To start with, I want them naked.”

She quickly opened the buttons on Nancy’s blouse and pushed it off her shoulders and down her arms and then she tied a short rope around Nancy’s arms, opened the cuffs and pulled the blouse off.  She refastened the cuffs and removed the rope.  She opened the zipper of Nancy’s skirt and let it fall around her ankles.  She knelt, removed Nancy’s shoes and pushed the skirt away.  Next she pulled the black man next to Nancy, pushed one of his arms between Nancy’s arms and then fastened his cuffs together behind his back.  After some trial and error they stood side by side with elbows interlocked.

Mistress Donna stood back to appraise her handiwork and then she put her finger through the ring on the black man’s collar and pulled him forward as Nancy struggled to keep up.  She led the two entwined captives to a large couch against the wall.  Arnold picked up Nancy’s clothes and followed along. 

Mistress Donna unfastened the black man’s cuffs, pulled his arm from between Nancy’s, fastened his cuffs again behind his back and told him to sit on the couch.  And then she stepped closer to Nancy who backed away.  She grabbed Nancy’s arms and pulled her close.  Nancy trembled as she felt Donna’s ample breasts press against hers, and then Donna kissed her, pushing her tongue between Nancy’s lips and against the clinched teeth.  Donna stepped back and slapped Nancy hard on the face.

“Repeat after me, slave!  ‘A slave responds to a Mistress’s kiss with passion.’”

Nancy just looked at her, shaking her head, No.

“You won’t like the way I discipline disobedient slaves. Now say it!”

“A slave responds with passion” Nancy muttered.

“I couldn’t hear that.  Say it again, louder.”

“A slave responds with passion” Nancy bellowed.

“I think you need to meet my trusty persuader,” Mistress Donna took the crop from her belt and teased Nancy’s nipples with the tip.  “She floats like a butterfly.” Nancy felt her nipples responding to the tantalizing touch. “And she stings like a bee.”  Mistress Donna swung the crop hard against the side of Nancy’s breast, making her hiss through her teeth.  “Now let’s see if you’ve learned to ‘respond with passion.’”

Mistress Donna embraced Nancy tightly, pressing their breasts together, and gave her a prolonged French kiss.  Nancy’s brain felt revulsion, but her body responded with erotic fervor, and her tongue, on its own, returned the invasive kiss.

“That’s much better,” Mistress Donna said, pulling away, “but you need to learn humility, obedience and respect.  Now kiss my shoe.”

Nancy’s was overwhelmed with embarrassment, degradation and chagrin as she slowly lowered one knee and then the other to the floor and bent forward to kiss the shiny black pump.  She heard a loud slap and felt a burst of pain on her hip, as the crop found its target.

“I said kiss it, slave!  That means use your tongue, get it clean, make it wet.”  Mistress Donna bellowed, and Nancy squirmed as the crop smacked her buttock.

Nancy licked the smooth shoe tasting the polish, feeling the dust with her tongue, and then there was another flash of pain on her hip.

“Clean them both, slave. I want ‘em gleaming.”

Nancy continued to lick the two shoes, but each time she slowed to catch her breath the crop struck a different spot on her exposed bare skin.

 “Suck the heel, slave.  You’re going to need the practice.” Mistress Dona ordered. She sat on the couch next to the black man and held the spike heel of her pump up to Nancy’s face.  With humiliation twisting Nancy’s stomach into a tight knot, she sucked the heel and continued to lick the shoes for another minute, which seemed like an hour to Nancy, and then the crop smacked the side of her breast.

“That’s enough on my shoes, but the black slave has dirty toes.  I want the white slave to get ‘em clean.”

Nancy moved over and gingerly kissed the black man’s big toe and the crop again slapped her breast.

“That’s not a kiss!” Mistress Donna snarled. “Lick between the toes. Get that toe all the way in your mouth.” 

Overwhelmed with degradation, embarrassment and humiliation, Nancy managed to do as she was told, encouraged from time to time by the vicious crop that seemed adept at finding tender spots.  Provoked by the crop, she eventually pushed her tongue into all eight spaces between the toes and sucked all ten black toes into her mouth.

“Up on your knees, slave!” Mistress Donna ordered, and Nancy obeyed, her muscles tense from leaning forward so long.  She noticed for the first time that a group of observers had gathered around, which greatly magnified her degradation.

“Black slave has had enough fun.  Now that you’ve had practice licking, we can put it to better use.”  She slipped forward on the couch and pulled her short skirt up, flaunting her naked pussy. With taps of the crop she directed Nancy between her wide-spread legs. “Make me cum, slave!”

Nancy stared at the obscenely displayed female sex with an odd blend of fascination and revulsion. Mistress Donna entwined a hand in Nancy’s hair and guided her face down between her legs.  Nancy struggled against the cuffs that cruelly frustrated every attempt to resist.  Soon her mouth was tightly pressed against the wet labia.  She knew the anatomy, which helped her find the clitoris with her tongue.

“Yes, yes. More, more.” Mistress Donna moaned, painfully pulling Nancy’s hair, and then Nancy felt the stinging bite of a crop that Mistress Donna swung with her free hand.

Responding to repeated smacks of the crop, Nancy vigorously massaged the clitoris with her tongue. 

Mistress Donna moaned as her hips swiveled.  Her hand in Nancy’s hair pressed her face hard into the soggy crotch.  Overwhelmed with unrecognizable emotion, Nancy moved her lips and tongue in a desperate attempt to reach the end.  Finally, Mistress Donna’s hips trembled and rose. She arched her back and moaned loudly and then she collapsed on the couch letting go of Nancy’s hair.  Nancy straightened up on her knees, and heard scattered applause from the observers.

“Stand up black slave.  Stay on your knees white slave,” Mistress Donna said after a while as she got up from the couch.

Mistress Donna stuck a finger through the ring of the black man’s collar and led him to a section of the wall that had a long, unpainted 2X4 board attached horizontally at about waist height.  She pressed the link between his cuffs into one of the brackets that were spaced about three feet apart along the board and it snapped shut holding him in place.  Then she tied a length of string around each of his legs just above the knee. 

“Crawl over here, white slave, and kneel in front of black slave.” Mistress Donna ordered.

Nancy crawled on her knees and stopped in front of the black man.  Mistress Donna attached a clover clamp to each of Nancy’s nipples, and she squirmed with the sudden pressure.  Directed by the crop, Nancy placed herself kneeling in front of the black man with her face close to his partially erect penis.  Mistress Donna tied the strings from the black man’s legs to the clover clamps on Nancy’s nipples, carefully adjusting the length to hold Nancy in position, her face near the black penis.

“Here are the rules for our little game,” Mistress Donna said, speaking mainly to the observers.  “The black slave is forbidden to cum.  If he does, he will be punished.  The white slave is required to keep the black slave’s cock hard and erect.  If it starts to sag, she will feel the crop.”

“What if she pulls the clamps off?” a female voice asked.

“Not to worry.  The clover clamps have serrated teeth and they just bite harder when they’re pulled.  She can’t pull ‘em off.”  Mistress Donna explained.  “Now get it up, slave,” she ordered as the crop smacked Nancy’s buttock.

Nancy fondled the partially erect penis with her nose and it slowly began to grow.

“Suck it, slave!” Nancy’s buttock again felt the kiss of the crop.

Nancy took the penis in her mouth and it swiftly became stiff and hard.  She pulled her head back, astonished at its size.  The erect penis tried to follow her lips, and she leaned back boosting the pain in her nipples.  Mistress Donna slid the crop gently down Nancy’s back, making her shiver.  She dragged it through the crevice between Nancy’s buttocks and guided it up and down the inside of her thighs tapping lightly to coax the knees further apart.  Mistress Dona kneeled beside Nancy and lightly stroked her belly with the tips of her fingers, and then with her fingernails before sliding it between her legs.  Cuffs and clamps frustrated Nancy’s impulse to avoid the feminine touch, but her body responded to the tantalizing touch.  Mistress Donna skillfully teased the clitoris.  Nancy’s hips moved in response and she felt herself getting wet.

From time to time the penis began to sag and Nancy found that it would respond to light teasing with her nose and lips.  In this way she kept it erect and avoided touching it most of the time by leaning back and turning her head.  The black man was becoming more aroused, however, and his penis was ever more persistent in seeking contact.  Suddenly, a heavy stream of semen squirted onto her face.  The copious, viscous fluid slowly oozed down her cheeks to her chin and dribbled onto her breasts. 

 “Lick it off your lips and swallow, slave.” Mistress Donna commanded as she released the clover clamps  and then she said, “Oh naughty girl!  You’ve let some drop on the floor.  Now get down there and lick it up.  Swallow every drop.”  The vicious crop smacked against Nancy’s left breast just below the aching nipple, and she hissed between her teeth with the sudden pain. 

Nancy bent forward and began to lick the semen off the floor, encouraged by the crop, but her task was prolonged as more dripped from her face.  Mistress Donna continued to goad her with the crop.

 “Artichoke!” Nancy yelled, invoking the safeword.

Mistress Donna stepped back and Arnold rushed to Nancy’s side and released her wrist cuffs.

“Are you alright?” he asked tenderly, putting an arm around her shoulders.

“I think I’ll survive, Sir.”

He led her to the couch and helped her lie down. He examined the plethora of crop marks on her skin with his fingers.

“These don’t look too bad, but I know they hurt at the time. Where is the pain now?” His touch was gentle and his voice comforting.

“The pain is where you can’t see it, Sir.  It’s humiliation, embarrassment, degradation.”

Mistress Karen tapped Nancy on the shoulder.

“I hear you used the safeword, Nancy.” Mistress Karen said accusingly.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“I’m sorry, but the club has a firm rule.  If you use the safeword, you have to leave the party.”

Arnold said, “That seems a little severe, Karen.”

“It is, but we have to have it.  We had subs using the safeword whenever the going got a little tough, and they would just keep doing it.  With this rule we don’t get much frivolous safe-wording any more.  I have seen that Nancy has been a fine sub, and I’m sure her safeword was needed, but the Board doesn’t allow any exceptions.”

“Then I guess we’ll be on our way.  It’s been good seeing you again, Karen.”  Arnold helped Nancy off the couch and lent a hand as she put on her clothes.