Having worked as a professional submissive for one of the city’s most exclusive BDSM escort services, Yvette’s rather demanding regular clients, all extremely wealthy gentlemen, were more
than willing to pay the three thousand per hour fee for her services. Tonight she’s visiting one of her favorites, Roger, whose sound-proof dungeon contains quite an impressive collection of
authentic medieval instruments of torture. Many of which that she has delightfully agonizing firsthand experience with. In fact, during her last weekend visit with Roger, she’d spent forty
two agonizingly painfully torturous hours tautly stretched over his authentic German wheel rack. Driving out to his mansion, she was eagerly looking forward to what new and diabolically
agonizing experiences Roger fiendishly planned for her to delightfully endure this weekend.
Roger smiled as he watched Yvette driving on to his estate. Moments later, punctual as ever the clock in the foyer was just starting to chime as she rang the doorbell. Greeting her with a light kiss upon the lips, he offered to take her coat revealing yet another erotically kinky and previously unseen outfit that as usual left little to the imagination. Smiling he said, “Would you care for a glass of wine before we go downstairs?”
Smiling back I replied, “Thank you Roger that would be lovely.” Following him into the mansion’s spacious kitchen, Roger opened the wine cooler and withdrew what I instantly recognized as an extremely expensive bottle of Pinot Noir. Surprised by the unexpected extravagance I looked at him questionably as he opened the bottle.
Seeing the look in my eyes Roger shrugged as he poured the wine, “Yes, I know it’s expensive but the owner of the vineyard is a client who sends me a dozen cases every Christmas.”
Accepting the glass, “It must be nice having a client like that. Cheers.”
Taking a sip I discovered, as expected, the wine was incredible. Pausing before taking another sip, “So Roger, care to give me a hint about what wickedly diabolic torment awaits me tonight?”
Smiling Roger replied, “I wouldn’t want to destroy the surprise but let’s just say that what awaits downstairs tonight will be like nothing you’ve ever experienced.”
Finishing my wine, I set the empty glass on the counter and smiling suggestively said, “Then Sir, I think it time for us to go downstairs.”
Entering the dungeon, Roger led me over to the familiar hanging cage. He likes to lock me within that cage as he prepares whatever cruel torture he intends to inflict upon me. I guess he knows I like to watch. It only heightens the suspense. Pausing before the hanging cage, Roger turned and picked up a familiar looking spray bottle from a nearby table.
During my first visit to Roger’s dungeon, I discovered that his cock was both thicker and far longer than any I’d seen before and when he attempted to deep throat me, I gagged and throw up all over the front of his black leather pants. Sent home less than an hour later I never expected to see him again, I only hoped he wouldn’t have me fired. You can imagine my surprise when two weeks later I was driving out to his estate for another session.
That night, as we entered his dungeon, he paused to pick up a spray bottle and turning to me and ordered, “Open your mouth Yvette.”
Inserting the bottles long spray nozzle deep into my mouth, he sent several squirts of cold spray into the back of my throat. Then, pausing for a few brief seconds, he pushed the nozzle past my tonsils and sent several more squirts of fluid straight down into my throat.
“The spray numbs your throat, suppressing your gag reflex. Let’s give the spray a moment to take effect before I deep throat you again.”
That evening I managed to deep throat Roger twice, each time his cock buried balls deep in my throat as, he climaxed, pumping his seed straight down into my stomach.
After the familiar chilling sensation of the spray, I was looking forward to Roger pushing me down onto my knees to orally satisfy him. Instead, he helped me up into the hanging cage and locked the cage’s door closed behind me.
Sensing Yvette’s confusion, Roger suppressed his smile as he lit the gas fired brazier and taking the branding iron out of the cabinet placed the business end over the brazier’s already glowing coals.
Turning back to his lovely guest, Roger smiled darkly, “You should know that I paid the madam running your escort service two million for you. Right now their empting your apartment, sending your jewelry and wardrobe here, everything else going to charity. Tomorrow morning they’ll come for your car, also going to charity. Simply put, by tomorrow evening, you will cease to exist.”
Seeing the look of panic in Yvette’s lovely eyes, “By now you’ve realized you’re unable to speak, the throat spray is far more potent than usual. However, its effects should wear off in about an hour or so. By then, you need to decide Yvette. Since I own you, I will grant you this one final moment of self-determination.”
Glancing over at the branding iron heating in the flames, “First, you can submit, accepting my brand on your ass and become my willing masochistic pain slut, until such time as I decide to dispose of you. Or second, I will sell you to a darkly infamous S&M brothel outside Bangkok where most of their submissives rarely survive for more than a few months, your choice.”
Watching as Roger left the dungeon, I glanced over at that branding iron, its familiar monogram starting to glow in the flames, the same monogram I’ve seen countless times etched into the glass on the front doors of Roger’s mansion, his initials. Already knowing what my answer is going to be, I just wished in hindsight that Roger only possessed a single middle name...