Domination Games

The Spring Games - Event 3  "Javelin Throw"

The amplified voice of the Master of Ceremonies announcing
the next event recalled Gemma to the present.  That bitch
Rayna did not appear to be in the audience.  Rayna'd be there
to gloat, particularly if Gemma lost or was eliminated. 
After all, that was the goal, Gemma mused, to ensure that
Gemma was publicly humiliated, punished for failing today
during the tonight's open entertainment.  For the various
submissives competing today, the experience of public
display, forced sexual torment and usage, was planned to be
and would be a super turn-on.  Under normal circumstances, a
submissive was guaranteed that nothing truly against their
will would be done to them.  For Gemma, and she suspected,
the two previous winners, that experience would be rough. 
Her forfeit to Rayna mandated that she accept, without
reprieve or complaint, whatever the Entertainment Mistress
proposed for her.  

Gemma's self image was totally that of the dominant.  Even
during her Cabal-mandated annual submission session, she was
still the dominant because she did not break.  Tonight would
be different. Tonight she could face an entire crowd who
could use her, toy with her as they pleased.  Instead of
being able to focus all her strength, all her will against a
single person, a single dominant, she would never know where
the next torment would come from.  She could refuse orders
that were repugnant to her, use her safety word, but that
would only make matters even worse.    That would be to admit
to weakness, to admit that she had been defeated, to admit
that Rayna had won.  It would also violate the terms of her
forfeit and result in her expulsion from the Cabal.  The only
acceptable reason for refusal in this case was if her
physical safety was at risk.  Other than that, she would be
at the non-existent mercy of Rayna and her clique.

Suddenly, a scalding line of fiery pain flared across her
bottom.  Forgetting her current role, she spun furiously to
face her tormenter.  It was the Mistress Stephanie.  In her
high heeled boots, with Gemma bare footed, the two women were
of equal height.  Stephanie was staring gleefully into
Gemma's eyes, waiting for her to make a punishable offense
that would give her any reason to get serious with her crop. 
The two women locked eyes momentarily, and the insolence of
that action gave Stephanie the excuse she was obviously
looking for.  Gemma instantly realized her error and, closing
her eyes, braced herself for that first stroke.  It never
struck.

A surprised, feminine grunt was followed by a splutter of
pure rage.  She opened her eyes to see Alex holding
Stephanie's whip hand by the wrist, his pose one of bored
relaxation and poised control.  Stephanie rounded on him,
furiously, but his grip on her wrist did not break.  "You are
interfering with the function of the Mistress in Charge. 
This slave has been insolent and must be punished.  Who are
you?"  She looked at him, and recognition set in. "You!  You
are the slave that Rayna broke last fall, the one whose
failure is the reason that ..."  She never finished the
statement as the force on her wrist suddenly increased. 
Stephanie bit her lip against a cry of pain.

Alex's face went dark.  "Yes, Mistress, that is correct.  But
at this very moment, I am registered as a Master.
Specifically, I am Master to the slave Gemma for this weekend
and you have been abusing my slave without cause.  I have
been carefully watching you in the execution or your duties
and my slave has felt your crop three times as often as the
slave with the next largest total and she has received more
strokes than the rest of the field combined.  She has been
well behaved, except for this incident and I find you more at
fault than she.  The inequity of your actions is negatively
affecting the ability of my slave to win this competition.  I
will have it stopped and stopped now or I will protest the
results."  With that, Alex released her wrist with a snap. 
"Do I make myself clear?"

Stephanie's glared at him, furious.  "Who are you to order a
True Mistress?  You are only a slave to this bitch.  You may
act the Master, but you are still her little slut boy, doing
what she wouldn't trust a True Master to do."  She turned her
back to him as if to walk away, then spun back on Alex,
intent on delivering a crop stroke across his chest. 
Wrestling trained reflexes responded and he again caught her
wrist before the stroke could land.  

This time Alex brought all of his formidable strength to bear
on the muscles and bones of Stephanie's wrist.  Her leather
gauntlets provided no protection and her crop fell from limp,
nerveless fingers.  And still Alex increased the pressure. 
Sobbing now in pain, trying to pry Alex's hand off her wrist
with her free hand, Stephanie sank to her knees from the
shear agony of bone and muscle being squeezed onto nerve. 
Alex held her there, up on her knees, looking up at him with
fear in her eyes.  Had he not held her unright with the
captured wrist, she would have keeled over onto her face,
writhing in pain.  

Slowly, still retaining his hold on Stephanie's wrist, he
bent down to put himself eye to eye with her.  His voice was
a harsh whisper, audible only to Stephanie, Gemma and the
Master of Ceremonies who had just arrived on the scene. 
"Listen to me, bitch.  Tell Rayna that you were found out and
had to stop harassing my slave.  I am Gemma's Master, if only
for this weekend.  If I choose to submit to her in the normal
course of our relationship, it is because I want to give her
that gift of myself.  I have no need or interest in sessions
with second raters like you.  When I choose to submit, I do
so with the best, someone worthy of my worship.  Now, I will
tell you one more time.  Strike her again when she does not
deserve it and I will protest the games, but before I do
that, you may be assured that I will deal with you first." 
Incredibly, the pressure on Stephanie's wrist increased
again, causing her to whimper in pain.  "Now, have I made
myself clear?"

"Y..y..yes."  She breathed, trying to recover her composure. 
Alex squeezed again, his eyes demanding in their intensity. 
Stephanie understood what he wanted of her.  "Yes, Master." 
she screamed.  Alex threw her wrist away, causing her to roll
over onto her back in the dirt.  

Alex looked at the Master of Ceremonies.  "Do you have
anything to say?"  His voice soft with menace.  The Master
literally took a couple of steps back when Alex confronted
him.  He had seen the cropping of Gemma by the Mistress, had
heard most of the exchange between the two antagonists and
had seen Stephanie attempt to use her crop on a registered
dominant.  He had also seen Alex's swift, sure retaliation
and had correctly assessed the raw power of the man he faced. 
The Master decided that he had nothing to say.  Alex looked
to Gemma.  "I have seen to it that you are spared any more
unearned punishment.  Compete well so you do not earn any.  I
expect victory."

Gemma shivered at a tone she had never before heard from Alex
as she bowed her head in submission to his order.  She was
shocked at the way he had stepped in and dealt with
Stephanie.  Stephanie was a professional and lifestyle domme,
used to dealing with submissive males.  She was known for her
ability to overwhelm a bottom with the force of her
personality alone.  For Alex to get the drop on her like
that, and so easily, it simply did not fit with Gemma's
personal image of him.  "Yes, Master, thank you." was all she
said, all she could say.

The games resumed as the Master of Ceremonies moved back to
the podium while a much chastened Mistress in Charge herded
out six male slaves who would serve as the apparatus for the
next event.  
"Masters and Mistresses of the Cabal, our next event is the
javelin throw.  Before you on the stage, you see six male
slaves.  Each one of them has been assigned to one of our
contestants by blind draw.  Each of the male slaves has been
milked to sperming twice within the last three hours, most
recently during the running of the 100 meter race.  They
provide the javelins our contestants must throw.  Each female
slave must masturbate her assigned 'javelin' to orgasm.  The
last two contestants to complete this task will be eliminated
from the remainder of the competition.  The use of any part
of the female slave's anatomy, other than her hands and
fingers, on the 'javelin' will result in her immediate
disqualification.  To make the game more challenging, each of
the male slaves who orgasm will be put in a disciplinary cock
and ball harness, locked up for the remainder of the weekend. 
They will have no hope of any further orgasms until they
leave the retreat.  The keys to unlock their harnesses will
be provided to them only when they leave the gate.  Of
course, they will help with tonight's entertainment, as
well."

The male slaves were laid on their backs in a loose
semicircle on the stage.  The female slaves knelt beside
their assigned slave, on the side opposite from the audience
to afford the assembly the best view of the proceedings. 
Gemma's javelin was a young man she had played with before. 
He was a well trained slave with admirable control.  Under
normal circumstances, he would be a significant challenge in
this type of competition.  Gemma wondered just how blind that
draw really had been.  It was just too bad for Rayna's
apparent conspiracy, but Gemma knew this slave and she knew
his weaknesses.  She had broken him in previous scenes with
him and knew some things that really got to him. 

The start command was given.  Most of the women attacked
their assigned javelin-dick with a furious flurry of hand
motion, but without much positive reaction from the males. 
Each of the slaves was still recovering from being milked. 
The milking process had involved some fairly rough handling
and, to a man, each of the male slaves was suffering from a
pretty severe case of tender-cock.  The harsh jerking off
that the men were being subjected to at the hands of the
contestants was hurting them even more and was, therefore,
counter productive.  

Gemma recognized the futility of a frontal attack.  Her
javelin was bright red from the not so gentle ministrations
of whoever had milked him.  The men could not get off if the
manipulations were more painful than exciting.  

She started to tease the dick of her apparatus with the
gentlest brushes of her long nails, grazing the sensitive
underside seam and tickling the scrotum where the testicles
stretched out under their own weight.  She laid down
lengthwise beside him and put her mouth to his ear.  "You are
going to come for me, little man." she whispered as she
continued her teasingly light touches, "No matter what they
threaten you with for this weekend, no matter what they
actually do to you, no matter what they offer you as an
incentive to succeed, you will come for me.  Remember, this
is only one weekend.  I will be back, as myself, and I will
find you.  I will find you and I will own you, just like the
last time we played.  Nothing you face this weekend will
compare to what I will do to you if I am displeased.  You
don't want to displease me, do you, little man."  She felt
the first tell tale quiver and hardening as the visual
picture she was painting started to excite the most erogenous
zone of all - the brain.  

Her whisper was little more than a hiss in his ear.  "You
want me to be very happy with you the next time I face you
with my favorite whip in my hand and your cute little
hairless ass in my sights.  Isn't that right, little man. 
You know you'll want me to whip you, don't you.  And I will. 
Oh, how I will whip you, but the question is - Will I be the
only one to enjoy it."  The teasing, both verbal and manual,
reached into the dark core of fantasy inside the young male
submissive.  His cock grew rigid, in spite of his best
efforts to control his response to her ministrations.  He
started arching into her gently teasing grip uncontrollably,
trying to avoid the caresses and yet, trying to increase the
stimulation of feathery touches playing at his genitals.

He was almost there, she had him on the edge.  Gemma brought
out her big gun, a weapon she possessed from her intimate
knowledge of his darkest fantasies.  As ordered, no part of
her anatomy, other than her finger tips would touch his cock. 
Rising up onto her knees, Gemma delicately lifted one leg,
straddled his head so her head continued to face his feet.  
Setting her knees firmly against his shoulders, she pillowed
his head on her ankles and gently lowered her ass down on to
his face, all the while continuing the verbal and physical
teasing that was driving him mad.  She relaxed her buttocks
so that they parted easily around his cheeks and nose, then
abruptly dropped her full weight onto his face.  She squeezed
her cheeks together with all her strength.  It was a classic
queening and it was this slave's most closely guarded secret. 
Not even his owner/Mistress was aware of how acutely, being
crushed like this, affected him.  Her ass effectively sealed
off his nose and her cunt sealed off his mouth.  He started
to struggle for air and she momentarily relaxed her ass
muscles, allowing him to swallow a quick bite of ass flavored
air before she quickly resealed her grip on his nose and
mouth.  

He became steadily more excited, more out of control.  The
forcefulness of her stroking increased in response.  On her
third reseating, the slave lost it completely.  Semen spewed
from him in a rush and he bucked like a wild horse.  Gemma
tightened her thighs on his head and road out his climax
without losing her seat.  When his spasms subsided, she
meticulously wiped his cum from her hand into the slave's
hair.  With a final squeeze of her ass cheeks on his nose,
she wiped her bottom across his face and got to her feet in
victory.  A quick review of the progress of the competition
revealed that she was the first player to qualify.

Eventually, other contestants finally coaxed their assigned
javelins to climax.  Gemma thought that the slaves who came
would not care about having their cocks restrained.  Another
orgasm this weekend would probably be more of a threat to
those slaves than the cock harnesses.  All of their cocks
were such a fiery red that it hurt just to look at them.  The
other semifinalists were the two previous champions and the
little Asian slave.  The losing women and the men who had
orgasmed were lead away.  An intermission was called prior to
the last event.

Memories  Part 3

Welts had formed on her ass from Stephanie's last cropping.
The pain from the cuts prevented Gemma from getting too
comfortable on the ground while she waited for the final
event of the day.  She was absolutely convinced that
Stephanie was actively working to prevent Gemma from winning
the competition.  There was no question that Rayna wanted
Gemma on public display tonight with the losing slaves.  She
did not expect a Mistress to excel at, let alone win a slave
performance competition.  

The strange thing was that it was commonly known among the
Cabal membership that the European Mistress who had trained
Gemma firmly believed in the classic methods.  She insisted
that candidate dominants she trained must learn first as
submissives.  Only the trainees who became the most
accomplished slave-submissives were offered the opportunity
to train as dominants in their own right.  Gemma had been an
exquisite slave for her Mistress.  She also became her finest
student of dominance.  Rayna had obviously reconsidered her
position if Gemma won the competition.  She was obviously
taking no chances that Gemma might get to claim Rayna herself
as the prize.  

Gemma still marveled at how Alex had come to her aid and at
how easily he had overcome Stephanie.  In simple fact, Alex
had every right to be angry with Gemma for the incident that
had precipitated this farce today.  Gemma had violated the
most basic contract between a dominant and a submissive, that
of ultimate safety and protection.   Alex could have bought a
revenge truly worthy of her crime simply by not intervening
with Stephanie.  The whipping Stephanie intended for Gemma
would have been bad enough, but the after effects would have
guaranteed that Gemma's elimination from the competition
before the finals.   And yet, he had stepped forward to
protect her.  The depth of his commitment and (dare she think
it?) love amazed her.  She did not think she would be so
forgiving had he violated such a trust.

She could not even clearly recall what had precipitated the
stupid confrontation.  She did not like Rayna.  Rayna acted
like she had invented female dominance and condescended to
'advise' all other dominant women in the Cabal.  She seemed
to take particular delight in 'helping' Gemma with her
professional expertise.  Gemma's teacher had forgotten more
about managing a scene than Rayna would ever know and Gemma
had come to resent Rayna's continuing interference.  It may
have just been the sharp contrast the two women presented
that initially singled Gemma out for the other woman's
attentions.  Both were tall, standing nearly six feet without
heels.  Rayna was the only woman in the Cabal who could look
Gemma in the eyes, but the similarity ended.  Rayna was a
green-eyed, fiery hued red head, who had a lightly freckled,
but creamy white complexion.  Gemma privately thought that
her striking hair color got some chemical assistance, but
that was beside the point.

Last fall, at the retreat weekend, Gemma had finally had
enough and called Rayna to accounts.  The two women, toe to
toe, an ebony goddess in white leather facing down a flame
tressed warrior woman in black, had quickly drawn a crowd. 
They were separated before it degenerated into an actual
fight, but words were exchanged and the skills of each were
impugned by the other.  They agreed on a contest, each to
test the other's best trained slave.  The first to force the
other's slave to break won the bet and could demand a
forfeit, subject to the Cabal's executive approval.  

The Council agreed to set up the competition for that
evening.  Fortunately, one of the physician members was in
attendance for that retreat, although she had to be changed
from registered submissive to dominant to perform the
required function.  

The Cabal does not rule out the harsher type of scene.  Those
scenes are just not the principal focus of the group. 
However, from time to time, a dominant/submissive pair agree
to an extremely demanding scenario, such as a ritual flogging
or a very strenuous bondage session.  In these cases, if the
Cabal's facilities are to be used, the organization's primary
directive of mutual consent and safety apply, and a doctor,
with full authority to terminate the scene for any reason at
all, must be present for the session.

Gemma had gone and told Alex what she wanted of him.  He had
seemed listless and distracted, but she had attributed that
to the fact that he was upset with her giving him to another
Mistress to test.  He could have said no.  The Cabal
requirement of full consent meant that she had no authority,
other than that which he gave her, to direct him to
participate in the session.  Both knew that she would lose
the bet if he refused to participate.  He said nothing and
she led him to their quarters to prepare him.

That night, she had led him on leash to the main auditorium
of the retreat.  Rayna was already there with her slave, a
great brute of a man, Nordic of type, who was kneeling at her
feet when they arrived.  Both slaves were dressed in collars
and full chastity belt/cock harnesses that included a strap
that separated their buttocks and held seated a stubby, plug
up their asses.  They were not otherwise restrained since
that would be a part of the challenge.  Alex had been quite
flushed, but again, Gemma had interpreted it to be excitement
or embarrassment over the situation he found himself to be
in.  

Alex knelt beside the other slave, in front of Gemma.  The
Master of Ceremonies read the challenge and the rules.  Each
mistress would test the other's slave until one cried off
using his safety word, or until the doctor ordered the
competition halted. In that case, her decision of who lost
was final.  If one of the slaves lost consciousness for any
reason, that slave would be disqualified and his Mistress
declared the loser.  

The two submissives were told to tell the other Mistress and
the attending physician their safety word.   The slaves were
led to opposite ends of the stage where there were identical
sets of bondage restraints, toys and flagellation tools
arrayed for the Mistresses' to use.

The start signal was given.  Gemma, absolutely confident of
Alex's training and his stoic self control, took her time
getting started.  She put a spreader bar between her
subject's ankles and fixed that to the floor. She manacled
his wrists behind his back, and attaching the manacle chain
to an overhead pulley, raised his arms up, forcing him to
bend over and come up onto his toes.  A crossbar, placed in
front of him, would prevent him from falling forward and
breaking an ankle or dislocating a shoulder while still
providing access to his restrained and erect cock.  She took
a scrub brush and began to run the rough, hard bristles over
his backside, severely irritating his skin and waking up all
the nerve endings.  When she had his ass turned just the
right color of pink and covered with little striations from
the bristles, she went to the nearby peg board to choose her
tools.

In the meantime, Rayna, abandoning any subtlety or craft, had
tied Alex to a whipping block and had simply started whaling
away with a long paddle.  She gave him an even dozen with all
of her strength.  Alex eyes glazed and he seemed disoriented. 
The doctor moved in for a closer look while Rayna shifted to
a dressage whip.  Alex had passed out on the tenth stroke to
his ass.  Gemma was incredulous.  Dropping her strap, she had
run over to Alex while Rayna had strode triumphantly over to
release her own submissive.  One touch on Alex's forehead
told her something was wrong.  His skin did not have the
cold, clammy feel of fear and sweat, he was burning up.  He
revived, but did not seem to recognize her.  Gemma helped him
to his feet and led him away, beckoning the doctor to follow.