To tame a pig...
1
Tags: BDSM, Femdom, Degrading, Fetish, Etc...
This is a story about Ribbonette Blood, known as Mistress Thorn. The type of woman you would read about in an erotica, worthwhile of course. If you weren't graced by the silver/diamond collar barring her Mistress name, you could call her Miss Thorn. You could only be so lucky to call a woman of her beauty, your Mistress. No, she wasn't a woman you cheated on your wife with, though many wealthy men did.This was a woman worthy of your praise. Her porcelain skin, dark green eyes and hair the color of a raven. Her lips, plump and full, always the color red. A deep red, the color of fresh blood. Her curves, were to die for. Her rear was full and shaped like a peach. Her bust was a F thirty-four. For the poor fools who are ignorant to the size system of a woman's breast, they are very huge. Miss Thorn worked at a dungeon down on Moonberry road. A silent area, though at night it always seemed to come alive. In the small city, there was only one main attraction; The Cage. The cage was a well-known dungeon, very topnotch customers and workers. This is where our main character in this story worked. Many people came all over the world to see her beauty. To have their skin graced by the whip she was known for, it was bliss to all who came. To be in the presence of a woman who was so widely respected, it was an honor. What was the signature whip she was known for you ask? It was known as "The heartbreaker" This whip was custom made, a beauty all by itself. For those who enjoyed sharp points, a fragile caress or even a gentle slap that was fast and quick would get pleasure for this whip. Though a whip isn't worthwhile if the person behind it, doesn't know what they're doing. A whip of this quality can break skin, leave scars and create welts. It could cause one to raise their voice, arch their back. Groan in pleasure or distress, even scream. The breaking of the person's skin could be achieved easily, with just a single wrong twist of the holders wrist.The sting, the burning and smell of burning flesh is a risk, yes? You can pause and breath, Miss Thorn is more than qualified to hold such a dangerous item. Well, let's not tease you with bits and pieces. Let's start on the first day Miss Ribonette Blood auditioned to work at "The Cage"....
Chapter one: Who do you think you are?
It was nothing to her, she had seen it all before. She would be called on stage, asked to "show her talent" and some jealous bitch would be the head of the place and say she "wasn't good enough". She was more than good enough, she was beyond qualified. Ribbonette sighed as she crossed her legs right to left. The silver chrome chair was high end. It showed that this place had money or was just so focused on little detail. Either way, it met her standards. As she sat there with her fishnet stockings seeming to grow tighter around her toned porcelain thighs, she sighed. She was ready to walk up those pine wood stairs, center herself on the stage and ask for her first victim...I mean volunteer. There was already someone in front of her, a nobody. A slim boy that claimed to have rope skills. He had started the process all wrong, an amateur could notice that. That was what she was, a amateur herself at rope binding. She could see how loose the rope was, so as he told the girl that had volunteered her service to try to get out, she just shook her own head. The girl slipped easily out for his binds, handing the boy his rope as he was pointed off stage. She watched the boy hang his head and walk off stage, she was smirking at his misery. As she was called next, she stood up quickly and spoke firmly. Her words were exact, no stutter or unevenness in her tone as she addressed the boy..
"Hey you boy, do you mind staying up on stage as my volunteer?"
She didn't have to really wait for a reply, she knew the answer. So as he turned around, she was making her way up the stairs to stand dead center on the stage. Her red bottom heels clacking over the pine wood.
"No of course not, I don't mind at all. Where would you like me?"
Using her right index finger she pointed to the spot in front of her. He raised up his rope and she shook her head. He tossed the rope lightly to his right side and made his way to stand in front of her. She smiled and stepped back a few steps and spoke in her same tone. This time a little less firm and a little more sweeter, making the boy smile.
"Kneel and face the lovely judges. Kneel all the way, so your butt is resting on the back of your ankles."
She watched the boy follow her commands, pleased that she didn't have to repeat herself. She reached slowly behind herself, pulling out a whip. The judges sat there unfazed, that made her smile bigger. She spoke once more...
"No matter the sounds you hear, don't look behind you. Eyes forward, head down."
She cracked the whip back.
She watched the boy's body tense from the sound, it made her want to do more. She didn't waste anytime doing so. In seconds she was sharply cracking the whip on the upper right and bottom left of the boy's waist. Once she finished both sides, she placed the whip back on its holster. As she turned on her heel the boy went to stand with her. Soon his clothes slipped to the floor and he was left in his boxers. The judges went wide eyed and stood up quickly to clap. The boy was embarrassed, though pleased that she got such a reaction from the judges. One of the female judges walked over to Ribbonette as she hit the stairs and offered her a sheet of paper with the time "6:oo p.m". Taking the paper, she spoke softly.
"What is this?"
The woman that was built almost as shapely as her spoke in a tone that was way more gentle than hers would ever be.
"The time we are expecting you tomorrow."
Ribbonette smiled and tucked the paper away in her bra and replied.
"Shouldn't you take it up with your boss?"
The girl turned around to join the two male judges but replied with confidence.
"I am the boss."
Ribbonette stood there a little shocked but went on to walk. She was slightly amused that a fragile dressed and sweet toned girl could be the head Mistress of a dungeon such as "The Cage". She shook her head slowly and made her way to the exit of the building. After a long time she finally met the embodiment of the phrase:
"Never judge a book by its cover."
As the steel door closed behind her with a slight click; she wondered what she would have for dinner. It was a nice evening, the sun was still out so she figured a nice seafood salad would do. She was going to look forward to tomorrow; she needed to find something to wear. It was nothing that her friend Fang couldn't handle, in fact, she thought she would call Fang now. As she slid herself in the red Lamborghini , she pulled out her cellphone. Now locked inside her car, she pressed the push button start ignition and drove out the parking lot, putting Fang on speaker. His voice echoing in the empty car.
"Hello?"
She smiled and spoke in a tone that was probably as girly as she had ever sounded in years and that she would probably kill Fang for if he bragged about it to anyone.
"Girl let me tell you...."
Fang smiled on the other side and set himself up in his bed. Always glad to get a phone call from Miss Diva herself.
To be continued...
This is a story about Ribbonette Blood, known as Mistress Thorn. The type of woman you would read about in an erotica, worthwhile of course. If you weren't graced by the silver/diamond collar barring her Mistress name, you could call her Miss Thorn. You could only be so lucky to call a woman of her beauty, your Mistress. No, she wasn't a woman you cheated on your wife with, though many wealthy men did.This was a woman worthy of your praise. Her porcelain skin, dark green eyes and hair the color of a raven. Her lips, plump and full, always the color red. A deep red, the color of fresh blood. Her curves, were to die for. Her rear was full and shaped like a peach. Her bust was a F thirty-four. For the poor fools who are ignorant to the size system of a woman's breast, they are very huge. Miss Thorn worked at a dungeon down on Moonberry road. A silent area, though at night it always seemed to come alive. In the small city, there was only one main attraction; The Cage. The cage was a well-known dungeon, very topnotch customers and workers. This is where our main character in this story worked. Many people came all over the world to see her beauty. To have their skin graced by the whip she was known for, it was bliss to all who came. To be in the presence of a woman who was so widely respected, it was an honor. What was the signature whip she was known for you ask? It was known as "The heartbreaker" This whip was custom made, a beauty all by itself. For those who enjoyed sharp points, a fragile caress or even a gentle slap that was fast and quick would get pleasure for this whip. Though a whip isn't worthwhile if the person behind it, doesn't know what they're doing. A whip of this quality can break skin, leave scars and create welts. It could cause one to raise their voice, arch their back. Groan in pleasure or distress, even scream. The breaking of the person's skin could be achieved easily, with just a single wrong twist of the holders wrist.The sting, the burning and smell of burning flesh is a risk, yes? You can pause and breath, Miss Thorn is more than qualified to hold such a dangerous item. Well, let's not tease you with bits and pieces. Let's start on the first day Miss Ribonette Blood auditioned to work at "The Cage"....
Chapter one: Who do you think you are?
It was nothing to her, she had seen it all before. She would be called on stage, asked to "show her talent" and some jealous bitch would be the head of the place and say she "wasn't good enough". She was more than good enough, she was beyond qualified. Ribbonette sighed as she crossed her legs right to left. The silver chrome chair was high end. It showed that this place had money or was just so focused on little detail. Either way, it met her standards. As she sat there with her fishnet stockings seeming to grow tighter around her toned porcelain thighs, she sighed. She was ready to walk up those pine wood stairs, center herself on the stage and ask for her first victim...I mean volunteer. There was already someone in front of her, a nobody. A slim boy that claimed to have rope skills. He had started the process all wrong, an amateur could notice that. That was what she was, a amateur herself at rope binding. She could see how loose the rope was, so as he told the girl that had volunteered her service to try to get out, she just shook her own head. The girl slipped easily out for his binds, handing the boy his rope as he was pointed off stage. She watched the boy hang his head and walk off stage, she was smirking at his misery. As she was called next, she stood up quickly and spoke firmly. Her words were exact, no stutter or unevenness in her tone as she addressed the boy..
"Hey you boy, do you mind staying up on stage as my volunteer?"
She didn't have to really wait for a reply, she knew the answer. So as he turned around, she was making her way up the stairs to stand dead center on the stage. Her red bottom heels clacking over the pine wood.
"No of course not, I don't mind at all. Where would you like me?"
Using her right index finger she pointed to the spot in front of her. He raised up his rope and she shook her head. He tossed the rope lightly to his right side and made his way to stand in front of her. She smiled and stepped back a few steps and spoke in her same tone. This time a little less firm and a little more sweeter, making the boy smile.
"Kneel and face the lovely judges. Kneel all the way, so your butt is resting on the back of your ankles."
She watched the boy follow her commands, pleased that she didn't have to repeat herself. She reached slowly behind herself, pulling out a whip. The judges sat there unfazed, that made her smile bigger. She spoke once more...
"No matter the sounds you hear, don't look behind you. Eyes forward, head down."
She cracked the whip back.
She watched the boy's body tense from the sound, it made her want to do more. She didn't waste anytime doing so. In seconds she was sharply cracking the whip on the upper right and bottom left of the boy's waist. Once she finished both sides, she placed the whip back on its holster. As she turned on her heel the boy went to stand with her. Soon his clothes slipped to the floor and he was left in his boxers. The judges went wide eyed and stood up quickly to clap. The boy was embarrassed, though pleased that she got such a reaction from the judges. One of the female judges walked over to Ribbonette as she hit the stairs and offered her a sheet of paper with the time "6:oo p.m". Taking the paper, she spoke softly.
"What is this?"
The woman that was built almost as shapely as her spoke in a tone that was way more gentle than hers would ever be.
"The time we are expecting you tomorrow."
Ribbonette smiled and tucked the paper away in her bra and replied.
"Shouldn't you take it up with your boss?"
The girl turned around to join the two male judges but replied with confidence.
"I am the boss."
Ribbonette stood there a little shocked but went on to walk. She was slightly amused that a fragile dressed and sweet toned girl could be the head Mistress of a dungeon such as "The Cage". She shook her head slowly and made her way to the exit of the building. After a long time she finally met the embodiment of the phrase:
"Never judge a book by its cover."
As the steel door closed behind her with a slight click; she wondered what she would have for dinner. It was a nice evening, the sun was still out so she figured a nice seafood salad would do. She was going to look forward to tomorrow; she needed to find something to wear. It was nothing that her friend Fang couldn't handle, in fact, she thought she would call Fang now. As she slid herself in the red Lamborghini , she pulled out her cellphone. Now locked inside her car, she pressed the push button start ignition and drove out the parking lot, putting Fang on speaker. His voice echoing in the empty car.
"Hello?"
She smiled and spoke in a tone that was probably as girly as she had ever sounded in years and that she would probably kill Fang for if he bragged about it to anyone.
"Girl let me tell you...."
Fang smiled on the other side and set himself up in his bed. Always glad to get a phone call from Miss Diva herself.
To be continued...