Intimate Reflections

Ms. Louise

Beginning

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fancy's plight as a slave...

October 19

Dear Diary,

This second round of chastity has been far easier to endure now that I stay at the Studio with Her Highness. She tempers my passions with a digital milking every other day that drains me of all my precious bodily fluids and delivers a vigorous pegging each Saturday that leaves me with the kind of delicate soreness that boys like me seem to hunger for so devoutly. But Diary, it is Her sheer presence that tempers my fires; the rise of Her bosom, the brush of Her hair or the touch of Her hand, and Oh Her delicate feminine fragrance all bind me to her at stoutly as would iron cuffs.

It is less than a month now until Election Day and Judge Divine is running again and has stepped up her “tough on sissy’s platform” so that the nightly news is full of footage of sexual raids into the bushes and back alleys that had been my playground for so many years.

The streets are lined with armed deputies carrying broad wooden paddles and hundreds of naked naughty boys being herded into city buses where they will be kept for the night and driven to the Public Square in the morning for a degrading discipline.

Don’t judge me too severely Diary, but it all still excites me, excites me so much I wish I were there with them. I can see the fear in their eyes and the humiliation. But I can also see them throbbing with excitement and it reminds me of the times I prowled the streets giving pleasure as well as receiving it, celebrating the odd intimacy of an anonymous cock!

This evening on the 6:00 news Judge Divine appeared at one of the sex roundups and was interviewed by Wilma from channel 5.

She said that she had hoped the “Citizens Spanking Act” and her own tough policies would be enough to stem the tide of sexual misconduct. Now that it was obvious that more was required she asked for everyone’s vote with the promise of lobbying the state legislature to enact the “Chastity Act of 2008”.

Judge Divine held up a copper chastity tube for the camera just as a very pretty boy was marched up to one of the waiting buses. The judge spun the boy around, placed one leg on the bus step and bent him over a shapely thigh. The camera moved to Wilma before the audience was treated to a view of the boy’s very naked and very pretty rump.

Wilma broke into a warm full-lipped smile as the microphones echoed with the slap, slap, slap of a well-deserved spanking.

“I want the women of this city to join me in this fight. Gather up your paddles and your straps. Together with the help of Judge Divine we can restore sanity to our city and our lives”.

She reached into her purse and removed a long handled wooden hairbrush and the look on her face let the audience know she already had a male backside in mind.

“Good night from Channel 5 news’ she added.

It’s a scary time Diary, a scary changing time!

Intimate Reflections

October 23

Dear Diary,

I reported to Louise’s “Sunrise Spanking” program this morning as directed and the sight of Her dressed so properly in business clothes with a large wooden paddle in Her hand flooded my mind with long-forgotten memories.

She was the most beautiful and the smartest woman I had ever met and I was lucky to have Miss Rocky as my English teacher in the seventh grade, all the thirteen year old boys had fallen madly in love with her. I fell the hardest.

Just to watch her move with such feminine grace was an erotic treat. I can see her standing at the blackboard with one hip cocked and one buttock ballooned out, or sitting at her desk with those long legs delicately crossed. We all hungered for that moment we might see more, the top of her stockings, perhaps a glimpse of ample white thigh.

Late one school day I was following her down the hall enjoying the ballet of her posteriors when a little joke came to mind. It was quite tame by today’s standards, but racy just the same.

“Wish I had a swing like that on my back porch” I joked, just loud enough for her to hear me.

But when she turned quickly around her face was red with embarrassment and her eyes full of anger, “follow me boy!”, she ordered and I did just that making sure my eyes were well up on her wide straight shoulders.

She marched into the office of Mr. Mancini the schools disciplinarian.

“Do you have a problem?” he asked.

“Nothing I can’t handle myself as long as I can use your facilities” she responded and I saw a smirk cross Mancini’s face when she picked up his big wooden paddle.

Of course I had been here before; boys my age were always randy and causing trouble. But this was a woman, a beautiful woman, the woman I loved!

“Bend over young man!” she ordered, ”grasp your ankles”.

Miss Rocky was young, very fit and strong and by the time the fifth swat had exploded with a loud crack my eyes were watering and despite my resolve to remain brave my hands shot back to my bad boy’s rump and I looked up at her with a quivering lower lip.

“Don’t you ever, ever, be disrespectful to a woman again, now run along”.

I ran quickly out of the room into the deserted hallway and down the steps to the empty boy’s room. Turning my back to the mirror I slowly lowered my pants and revealed a bright pink rump then walked into a stall and locked the door.

One hand moved back to my warm little boy’s rump the other moved forward to express my entry into manhood. That was a right of passage for me and when I think about Miss Rocky today, when I think about her beauty and her strength, I love her still.

I guess she saw my mind wandering because Mistress Louise snapped at me, “pay attention sissy”.

How I loved when She scolded me and I loved being in her presence, celebrating Her beauty with my eyes and drinking in Her heavenly fragrance.

We both knew why I was there, no reason existed for lengthy discussions: “Bend over young man,” she ordered, ”grasp your ankles”.

Intimate Reflections

October 27

Dear Diary,

I couldn’t believe it was her, not now, not yesterday when I saw her hanging on the front porch of the Studio like a sexual wind-chime!

Louise had suspended her from a spreader bar by ankle and wrist in such a fashion that the soft folds of her femininity were displayed along with a charming tiny rosebud that seemed to wink out at the world.

A box of latex gloves, bottles of “Wet”, and vials of Boi Butter rested on a small table next to her and by the volume of gloves in the waste basket I could guess every visitor to the Studio had stopped to “check her oil”.

The whir of the surveillance camera told me that every moment of her debasement had been recorded and if I knew Louise would be shown at a cocktail party in honor of the visiting socialite.

This morning I walked to her tiny metal cage and opened the trap door at the bottom to insert my aluminum pan then watched as she squatted over the receptacle and released a fragrant stream of mildly golden liquid.

“Is she coming here” the socialite asked while running her fingers through her hair trying to look as attractive as possible under the circumstances and completely oblivious to the fact that I just witnessed such a ordinarily private and intimate act.

Oh fuck, when will it stop surprising me?

I’d seen it in myself, watched Bijou and Teri the redhead, seen Sharon and Frederick, and Kate the gorgeous little tom-boy.

I asked the girl, “When did you know”?

“When did you know that you’d fallen in love with her”?

“It’s crazy, you can’t understand, but when She took control of me, took me over her lap and spanked me”!

But diary I do understand, we all do here at the Studio where climbing over Her knee is a painful, yet romantic and erotic episode that’s always an incomparable thrill.

I must run, time for my morning paddling.

Intimate Reflections

November 4

Dear Diary,

I can’t say for certain the heiress had any idea about what to expect from that fateful night, but I certainly didn’t and it unfolded with a shocking thunder.

While the last of the guests were being escorted out the platforms were lowered to the floor and we were released from our bondage and approached by Mistress Louise and perhaps the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

She introduced him as Count Ezra and he smiled at us and said hello in a voice thick with a Balkan influence; Latvia, Estonia?

He was a tall, wiry, muscled man with aluminum colored eyes and long blond hair braided into a pigtail that trailed to the base of his buttocks. He wore high polished boots and tight beige riding britches, the same kind Louise wore when She chose to tease slaves with the beauty of Her elegant posteriors.

He effortlessly picked me up and threw me over his shoulder then walked out the door.

It’s an odd feeling diary, to sense you are being claimed by a stranger with the blessing of She who has been the sole object of your adoration. Odder still when that Goddess gives a most definitive command; “fuck him raw Ezra, be brutal and look for the smile on his face”!

In a fairy tale I would have been thrown crosswise over the saddle of a huge stallion, but I found myself on the buttery leathery seat of a 7 series Bimmer, listening to Brazilian rain-forest music and speeding east over the river into downtown.

I noticed several police cars in hiding and we were traveling close to 90 miles per hour, but no sirens blared, no lights flashed.

Did they know him?

Or were they all afraid?

At Bratenall we veered north on to a street lined with ancient mansions and I remembered a story I read long ago about a 1930’s Madam who ran a brothel here staffed by a stable of girly-boys that appealed to a very select clientele. It was all very romantic.

When the car stopped he turned off the engine and leaned over to kiss me, he tasted like cinnamon and I opened wide to let his tongue play its naughty games. He took hold of my balls with incredibly strong yet soft hands and squeezed tightly enough that I knew he was telling me he could crush them. I melted.

His mouth went down over my cock, all the way to the root, then back up with a noisy slurp. In minutes we were in huge bedroom lit by candles and the roar of a fireplace. There was a gigantic oak bed covered in blood-red satin sheets and over a dozen black roses with long thorny stems.

I knelt on the end of the bed and lowered my head while Ezra rummaged through an umbrella stand till he found a long whippy rod then tested it by sending it whistling through the air. I pushed my face farther into the bed, a long black snake slithered across in front of my eyes.

My red and black costume melted into the tapestry of the bed so that my wide hind quarters and gaping anus glistened in pink vulnerability. I felt trembling sexual electricity as Ezra moved closer and whispered, “scream for me darling”!

At the second stroke the cheeks of my ass began to quiver involuntarily. Each stroke landed with a sharp cracking sound like the sound of a small pistol shot as it landed square, right across the tender flesh of my behind. At first there was no pain, just a warm burning sensation but slowly, as feeling returned, the heat became unbearably painful. I felt my flesh tingling and then came the throbbing pain and my face was wet with tears.

My submissive’s vanity seized me. I’d long been aware nothing pleases a Master or Mistress more than the image of superbly round male buttocks swollen and striped. The sight of my suffering would fuel Ezra’s desires and thicken his cock so I arched obediently to beg for my suffering.

He whipped me a full dozen and the last three bit viciously into my skin till I felt the warm trickle of blood and then felt his tongue lapping greedily.

Then all at once, I was overwhelmed.

His fangs pinched into my neck and the blunt head of his meaty cock pushed passed my timid sphincter and slammed into my prostate. His fangs felt like hypodermic needles, his cock was a blazing poker fresh from a roaring fire.

The feeding lasted five minutes; the fucking went on for an hour.

Ezha thrust into me hard, so beautifully fucking hard!

We were both moaning animal noises that mingling with the wet slap of his balls against my ass. He held me in a vise like grip and I felt his energy oozing into me as though a new life force was being pushed into me, fucked into me.

He took me this way and that, belly and back and every degree in between. At one point I realized my hands were still covered with the talon mitts and I clutched his muscled little buttocks and sunk the claws deep into his flesh till he moaned and delivered several very hard rump shaking thrusts. I felt his cock throbbing for release and was turned on my side for a wicked spooning.

Ezra began to grind into me while I pushed my slave’s ass back into him with a slave’s passion carefully working my sphincter with a rhythmic pulse.

I’d already been drained of my fluids as I suffered/shouted through endless anal-orgasms that left me limp and pliable. He stiffened and released and when the flood of vampire sperm filled me I shouted again.

His issue was like white lava boiling and sticky sweet and it bathed my insides with an urgent effervescence

We fell quickly to sleep and when the morning light woke me I pushed my ass back hoping to find an early morning erection to impale me. But he was gone, hidden away somewhere in the bowels of the old mansion, asleep in a coffin resting in soil from his homeland.

Intimate Reflections

November 9

Dear Diary,

My dreams haunt me each night as they have for all of my existence, so real, so potent and powerful that I’m sure I lived in other places and other times; a thousand years ago in Egypt, a century ago in Venice.

The only constant in these nightly journeys remains the presence of She, She as Empress, She as Governess, She as Warrior-Princess. Every personifications of Her as daunting and powerful as the last and suggesting another dimension, another more carnal world existing somewhere on the other side of midnight, a world that will someday consume me.

I appear sometimes as boy, sometimes as another creature, a sacred androgyny or sensual concubine of multi-sexed dubious gender. I am always a servant, always submissive to Her will.

Diary, I finally believe I exist only as a cosmic opposite to the strength of Her Feminine Dominance. I am the omega to her Alpha, the proof that the laws of nature demand an equal and opposite reaction to every action. Perhaps that union of cosmic confusion is responsible for that odd occurrence of the singular orgasm and the events of the last several months.

After my sacrifice to the Demon Ezra I slept naked on a bed covered with purple satin sheets in a room with the heavy scent of violets in the air feeling somehow like a lamb offered for slaughter. I fell quickly into a deep slumber like those provoked by opiates till an odd fluttering woke me and I opened my eyes to the wonder of Her, completely naked to my eyes for the first time ever.

She hovered above my bed and I saw my reflection in the coal-black iris’s of Her eyes then shivered as the large white bat’s wings growing out from Her shoulder blades flapped again.

The wings moved like webbed hands and Mistress seemed to be effortlessly swimming in the air like some demon Goddess half-human, half animal. She flowed effortlessly drawing my eyes to the beauty of Her bewitching magic.

They darted from Her succulent breasts to the taunt muscles of her tummy, then lower to the spot where the tiniest line of closely cropped pubic hair pointed towards a Paradise lost to boys like me. She turned exposing the flawless curves of a magnificent bottom crafted in the image of Venus herself.

She swooped down in a flash and hovered over me in a horizontal position so close I could feel the warmth of Her skin and smell Her perfume and sweat and the tiniest hint of feminine arousal.

A lock of curly brunette hair ticked my shoulder then warm wet lips circled my right nipple. I sighed when Her fangs punctured my breast lost in a confusion somewhere between my ideals of innocence and the pleasures of experience.

She produced a dildo; a much larger replica of my own cock carved from artic ice and slid it deeply into my ass till it found my core then continued the frenzied lapping at my wounds.

I awoke in a state half way to lunacy.

My arteries were flushed like a swollen river after a spring thaw so that I could actually feel the blood surging through my body. My nipples were as large as summer grapes and very sore and my cock thumped with diamond hardness urging me to stroke myself in complete disobedience to Her command.

I closed my eyes reliving the vision that had appeared to me in my dream and She appeared again so real I could almost taste Her feminine honey, almost experience the ultimate pleasure of touching my lips against Her anus in a crescendo of submission.

Now I must go to Her to confess. Yet I am still alive with that passion, my whole budding is humming with life, my nipples and cock still thumping, the lips of my boi sex yawn for attention. Could this entire episode have been to awaken my deepest sexual urges and not to humble me into a timid chastity? If so, what will She do next?

I’ll fetch the heavy prison strap and beg Her to cool my fires!

It is the one request she never denies.

Intimate Reflections

December 2, 2008

Dear Diary,

It was just past midnight and the low to the ground red Italian roadster was speeding south down Lake Shore Drive toward the Loop. The music was blaring way too loud and the curly-haired brunette beauty sitting next to me sat squinting in to the wind with Her priceless face frozen in a Mona Lisa smile.

I couldn’t recall how long I had been making this journey now, weeks, months, did it really matter?

Ezra had been the first, run up like a flag on a pole to see how I would react, now She gives me away nightly.

I sucked noisily on a peppermint lifesaver and steered the car back and forth between the lanes trying and failing to avoid potholes as big as craters. Locals say there’s nothing as challenging as “The Drive” in Chicago, it always makes me throb with energy.

I stared out at Lake Michigan and the towering high-rises nestled next to Lincoln Park, a green lush lagoon where somewhere a hundred years ago I had surrendered my virginity to an all too pretty sailor.

Behind the wall of steel and glass was the gritty underbelly of the city where the “sex life” was discreetly hidden in old warehouses and meat packing plants. A new “Victorian Age” was upon us and polite society had driven the Vampires and the souls they preyed on into hidden clubs. I smiled with anticipation.

“What’s on your mind?” She asked.

“How do I look Mademoiselle?”, I asked, trying to not appear too vain and shallow, but She always saw through me.

Louise dressed me for sex on these nightly excursions. Sometimes in pastel stockings secured around my soft thighs with contrasting colored ribbons, sometimes as a Geisha boy in silk kimonos and nothing else. This evening I was wearing ankle high “Bitch boots”, a blood red spandex pullover jersey, and black rubber hip hugger leggings that fit me like a snake skin. We both knew that it wouldn’t be five minutes inside the club till a hand was nestled somewhere between my legs or playing over my ass cheeks.

“Redo your makeup,” She replied, but smiled again and reached over to pinch my right nipple, so hard I almost swerved into the next lane.

I knew I looked hot!

There was a small line at the club where the Gay Gestapo was doing a spot check for DMR’s[1]. A Lipstick Lesbian in here early twenties was found in violation and taking over the knee of a butch sergeant and given a delightful bare bottomed spanking. I watched Louise raise an eyebrow as She watched the pretty rump bounce and color wondering what side of that scene She was dreaming about!

When the pageantry of that discipline ended we moved swiftly into the dark cavern like club and were assaulted by crowds of Gothic partiers in full fetish attire. The brooding boys wore ruffled shirts with tight trousers and high polished boots. The ladies preferred the same garments that Louise had always chosen; confining corsetry and long taunt garters that clipped to silk stocking and outlined a path to a sexual paradise.

I ordered Absinthe for Mistress and a delicate Sauvignon Blanc for myself, my drink of choice since the Day Mademoiselle had gifted me with the baptism of Her precious golden waters.

When I turned around I was staring into the fiery eyes of a Shemale vampire glaring at me from behind a gossamer half veil attached to a silk top hat.

“I’m Delilah,” she said, “Ezra’s sister. I felt my pulse quicken and my tiny muscle grip the rosebud jewelry inserted into my anus.

Delilah turned to Louise with deference and respect, “Would Mistress permit me to defile Her boi”?

Louise smiled like a Cheshire cat!

[1] Gay boys were now required to carry a daily minimum requirement of six prophylactics, and Lesbians six dental dams.

Intimate Reflections

December 13, 2008

Dear Diary,

Delilah led me across the dance floor and through a series of rooms, some lit so brightly it almost seemed like a hot, wet, sticky Chicago sun was streaming down from the heavens.

But other rooms were illuminated by tiny naked incandescent bulbs and there the air was completely still and heavy with the scents of rotting garbage, sweat, and dung. I could hear the buzzing of odd noisy flies but there was nothing in the air except the sensation of death or at least suspended life.

My fear of the place gave me a raging hard-on.

Delilah removed my anal jewelry replacing it with the intimacy of two slippery fingers with long curved nails stroking slowly as a lover does with a youth during the first breaching of a boy’s pussy and I yielded to her like a blossoming flower.

She wore a black bustier and leather chaps that left her big wide womanly ass naked and on display. A tiny pair of French-cut red rubber panties covered her pulsing excitement and the fact that despite looking like a beautiful woman, the vibrating presence of a man hung preciously between her legs.

The corridor we were standing in was perhaps thirty feet long and contained a confinement wall riddled with holes like an ancient pillory and shortly a sextet of slaves was marched in each with his or her face covered with an animal’s mask; badgers, ferrets, swine.

Their heads, arms, and legs were imprisoned in the holes in the wall so that their slippery tongues and wet mouths were available to others at a different venue while the

position of their confinement parted their rumps invitingly delivering a sexual pink cornucopia. Two female Vampires with nose rings and heavily tattooed thighs entered with long-handle paddles and soon the room was full of the sexy slappy sounds of wood kissing smooth soft rumps and the moans of whimpering slaves.

I gripped Delilah’s muscled thigh and petted the triangle of rubber between her legs thrilling at the meaty fullness of her when a noise from behind me told me Louise was following like a stealthy wolf. I turned and looked into Her eyes glowing in the darkness wondering if She were following as my protector or to enjoy a sexual trembling at the sight of my sacrifice and hoping for the latter with all my being.

Louise’s teaching had opened my eyes to the two beings inside of me; a desperate bewildered man, and a longing sensual woman eager to experience all the carnal world had to offer. I was ripe to be inspired, to conquer a journey into self, to feed on energy, perhaps an evil energy.

I felt like a new sexual creature when Delilah glued her mouth to my nipples, teasing them with her fangs, rubbing them with her tongue, and blowing her hot breath across them as I moaned deeply. She wore an amulet of the god Jupiter that dangled between her breasts in a cleavage as wide as the Chicago River and I sensed a driving sexual magic that made my anus burn as though it was filled with a ginger root phallus.

She pulled my arms back roughly behind me tying them with harsh rope high up under the armpits so that my shoulders were pulled back sharply and my nipples poked out from under my short red jersey. Then Delilah dropped to her knees and snaked my leggings down over my hips till my cock sprung out to receive the brass cock ring and ball spreader that made me ache with the knowledge that my stones were hanging low between my legs and vulnerable.

Then I saw her eyes sparkle at the sight of the long blue vein bulging down the length of my rigid cock and I experienced a paralyzing fear. I was such a baby, such a novice in the ways of this magical world where certain Vampires fed on venous blood as their energy source.

Louise cackled a witch’s laugh as Delilah’s mouth covered my sex and I was transported to some other world.

A world of hidden forests filled with blood-red night blooming flowers all scented as deliciously as that feminine flower that was the bane of my existence.

After that everything became a blur.

I remember at one moment having Delilah lowering her rump on to my face and seeing the feint blue lines of a spider’s web tattoo radiating out from her precious oval. I entered like Magellan tracing a great circle route to her center and was rewarded by the rigid shuddering of her ass.

I recall being on my back with one leg up over her shoulder and my entire body wrapping itself around her sex as powerful waves of anal orgasm consumed me.

And I remember the whimpers coming from the corner of the room where my dear and glorious Mademoiselle was shaking with a divine liquid moment provoked by my complete and utter submission.

I crawled into the passenger seat while She drove up Wacker Drive going through the gears like a Grand Prix champion. We crossed the river on to an almost deserted Michigan Ave twenty minutes before the sun rose over the Lake and I pushed my hand out to trace a path along the side of Her garter along thighs still wet with excitement.

“Was I a good boi?” I asked, and She smiled.

Intimate Reflections

December 17th, 2008

Mistress Louise knew what the early evening hours were like for a Vampire; a wild frenzy caused by the long day’s-night confinement of their coffins that usually caused a quick hunt and often resulted in an unsatisfying feed on an inadequate prey.

I couldn’t say that Louise was a Vampire for certain, but could attest to the fact that She was no stranger to the thrill of pursuit, capture, and rape. I had watched Her stalk unsuspecting pretty girls and prettier boys, allowing their desire for Her to build to a frenzy till She pounced on them in a vicious sexual coupling. She was capable of astonishing spectacles of cruelty, weaving elaborate schemes of seduction that always led to a complete surrender; blood, body, soul? Afterwards She might dismiss the boi or girl with an elegant scowl or perform a gut wrenching public humiliation that made us love Her even more.

No I can’t say that She was a Vampire for sure, but She was a dark and sensuous lover capable of creating such emotions in we mortals as to tether us to Her for life as surely as iron shackles.

She recognized a huge profit opportunity in catering to this Vampire weakness and designed a line of sexual furniture that would give them an early evening release to cool their fires and aid their hunt. Of course if She were able to line Her own purse in the process so much the better and tonight would be the unveiling of Her invention and the celebration of my call to duty.

I collected the full color tri-fold product brochures that I’d designed in my new part time position as assistant publisher for MLD Products, LLC and set off for the Vampire Club that had been chosen for the demonstration.

The cabinet was a simple design in the fashion of the style known as French Country, constructed from whorled maple wood with simply hinged outward opening doors and a hinged top that opened in two halves from the center outward. The top however had two half-moon cutouts, one on each side, so that when they were closed formed a circular hole in the top, through which a head would be sticking out, mine!

The interior was lavishly upholstered in cranberry velvet and the top covered in padded suede of the same color. At the center of its base a chromium steel plug had been mounted. It was 12” long and 2 inches wide with graduated ripples that became increasingly large as one descended into hell, or heaven, depending on one’s orientation, and ended in an extremely wide base that insured this would be one toy that would never be lost.

I approached the device dressed only in velvet ballet slippers and two steel collars, one circling my throat, the other caressing my package and lifting me delicately so that my erect cock stood out at a very precise 90 degree angle to my body.

As I marched by the assemblage of Vampires they took their liberties as Vampires are prone to do and I thrilled to their cold hands stroking, pinching, and prodding as I approached the stage.

Mistress Louise backed me into the cabinet and lowered me down slowly by gentle tugs at my nipple rings till the hard cold steel plug teased my anus and my flower opened to the joy of violation. The roto-screw air-powered reciprocating dildo system was an MLD Laboratories invention not yet on the market, but it would only be months till it became known as the Cadillac of fucking machines and those bastard Chinese were pirating the design and offering the item through Wal-Mart stores throughout the world.

My hands were cuffed and Louise placed a delicate emerald colored platter under my center, as I looked down I could see mystical symbols had been painted on its surface with gold lacquer; symbols from another world, perhaps the Isle of Lesbos. A pearl of my passion gathered at the slit in my cock and dropped heavily on to the platter just as Louise was closing the doors of my incarceration.

She pushed Her index finger in to my mouth and began a fucking motion while addressing the group.

“Who’ll be first” She asked with glowing eyes darting throughout the room, and then smiled as a dangerous Female Vampire stepped forward.

Her name was Magdalena and she had been raised by wolves in the mountains of Hungary centuries ago. Her hair was such a dark red it almost seemed maroon and when she opened her mouth to kiss Louise I saw the horror of a forked dragon’s tongue snake out of her mouth.

She was a full figured, heavy breasted Female and looked at Louise with hunger in her eyes that made me wonder as I have so often recently about the power of My Mistress against these demons.

But Louise never flinched, just stared back with that look in Her eye that has caused us all to wet our knickers at one time or another. She unzipped the front of Magdalena’s black hobble dress and the Vampire stepped out in a waist cincher and fishnet stockings, ivory and lush.

She was closely shaven, pink and wet, and with one sweep of her long legs my head was imprisoned between two firm thighs and my tongue was pushing past warm muscle and responding to the tick of her hips and the sighs coming from her open mouth.

I have to pause now and reflect on a confusing puzzle for in my short history as feed for Vampires I have noticed that they are always cold to the touch except in those areas that define their sexuality. So much the better I guess; I much prefer fiery lips and smoldering assholes, and the invasion of poker-hot cocks.

After several minutes of sucking her clit I bit down gently on the organ and Magdalena hissed like a viper and shook the cabinet with such force that Louise made a mental note to design an anchoring system when the device went into full production.

They marched up like soldiers after that; males and females, Tri-sexuals of every genus and specie projecting a deliciously ambiguous gender, over a dozen and Vampires all.

There was a muscular gentleman in theatrical cape with slick backed hair who fucked my mouth furiously as I looked back into his red eyes as I’d learned to do while practicing on Louise’s phallus and seeking my status as world-class cocksucker. A slender Female with a shaven head and a clitoris that vibrated like a tuning fork, and a young Irish Ladyboy named Bernadette in full school costume. They were all wonderful, all demanding, and what pleasure it was for me to bring them all to sexual fulfillment in the company of their peers.

Then as the demonstration was nearing its end the last Vampire appeared; long legged, apple bottomed, with a perfect breast augmentation that completed a divine feminine silhouette.

She was an African She-male with the high cheek bones and protruding jaw common to the peoples of the Eastern Congo. Her name was Countess Nela and she spoke only Swahili with a Tanzanian accent that Louise had no trouble understanding.

I too had little problem deciphering her demands when she mounted the cabinet facing back towards the audience with her legs along the side of my face so that I enjoyed my first view of the Dark Continent. There was a pentagram branded into the big left cheek of her ass in the fashion of those devotees of the goddess Venus, a symbol I’d seen often enough around people drawn to Louise.

Her huge onyx rump shook majestically as though in demand for my services and I began my safari pushing past a forest of course curly hairs till I found a flower as fragile and beautiful as any growing in the foothills of Mount Kilimanjaro.

Nela bucked like a Zebra mare to the music of my tongue for several minutes then steadied herself on one hand and pushed back an ebony prize for my attention.

The sack appeared like a velvet bag containing two perfect diamonds like those mined in Rhodesia and bartered for in Antwerp, darker jewels than I’d ever treasured before. Try as I did I couldn’t mouth them both at the same moment and had to content myself with sucking each individually and then spanking them with my tongue while listening to gratifying grunts from Nela.

She moved her hand again and my passions rose, I squirmed on my plug and felt yet another pearl drip to the emerald platter. Her cock was as hypnotizing as a cobra and as meaty as a python and seemed to move with its own grace.

Louise laughed, “open very wide my darling” She commanded as the snake slithered into my mouth and neatly down my throat choking me with its splendor.

My jaws and pussy began to ache together in a staccato rhythm from an unseen bass guitar while Vampires wailed eerie high pitched sounds that drove our passions higher and higher.

As the serpent slithered farther and farther into my throat I began to gag and fight the invasion, my eyes were bulging and tearing as I tried desperately to breathe through my nose. I felt a small strong hand at the back of me neck and heard Louise’s throaty voice whispering into my ear. But the words were unlike any She had ever spoken to me before, not the refined speech of a Lady of style and position but the course words used by the sailors at the docks.

“Eat it you pathetic little slut, suck her trannie clit dry, suck it, suck it harder. It’s time to take your nightmares apart, leave them at the door, and celebrate this moment of degradation. Now do it or I’ll place you and your worthless pussy on ebay”.

She pushed my face farther into that humid jungle till my nose was nestled smartly into Nela’s moist Shemale pussy and her cock inched farther down my throat that was opening like a flower to the sun in the same fashion that my pussy blossoms when Louise steps into Her harness.

I had the biggest mouthful of cock imaginable, and diary, what a greedy little cocksucker I was, pulling it deeper and sucking harder till she began to throb and buck and then squirted and my throat was filled with nearly a pint of white-gold as thick as maple syrup.

A hush grew over the audience as the cabinet was opened and I crawled toward the emerald platter that had been removed and placed under a glaring spotlight while a dozen Vampires watched anxious to see the spectacle of my total shame. A canvas directors chair was placed behind me and Louise lowered Her elegant rump to its caress.

I lowered my tongue to the platter in the classic “asses up’ position that Mistress had taught me on our very first day together, lapping up the pearls of my passion.

She raised Her foot. The heel of Her right shoe had been fashioned into an exact replica of the seven inch scarlet phallus that had nestled so often between Her legs and been the source of my femininity.

My whole being shook with the tremors of anal orgasm and I bucked my hips to the applause of an appreciative audience, wondering who would feed on me tonight and wishing with all my might that Louise would stay to watch my surrender and find joy in that moment!

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