Escape From Dominatrix Island
ChristopherDB Copyright 2023
On a lower level of the citadel, there was a long stone corridor along an outside wall. Large windows on one side overlooked a terraced garden where other men worked. Beyond the garden's low walls, the rocky landscape tumbled down over tall cliffs into the sea.
My task for the morning was to sweep the corridor and mop it later. While the men outside were permitted to wear loose fitting ragged clothing, I was only given a flimsy pair of sandals, and some thong underwear made of a rough cloth that would sometimes chafe at my scrotum.
The air was cool on my exposed skin, so I worked a bit more slowly when I swept in front of the windows, savoring the warm rays of the sun.
Two young female guards were loitering near the end of the passage, smoking cigarettes and talking in a language I didn't understand. The island was ruled by women, and I'd been tormented by these sadistic guards before.
Sometimes they could be avoided but now I had no choice but to keep working my way towards them. They wore black knee high leather boots, and their high heels echoed off the stone walls when they periodically walked over to an open window and casually flicked their cigarette ash outside.
The men in the garden below worked even more slowly, though they didn't appear to be supervised at all. Perhaps they were too weak to escape. I'd mostly been fed a thin gruel since I'd arrived perhaps a few weeks ago. I was losing track of the days, and becoming weaker, probably malnourished.
One of the guards began to slap the face of a small leather paddle against the open palm of her hand as I got closer. The other gave a low menacing laugh, and periodically flicked her riding crop through the air with a whooshing sound.
In addition to their high heeled boots, they wore snug fitting shorts and long sleeve jackets, both made of black leather. They wore their blonde hair pulled back. The taller one's hair was in a pony tail, and the shorter one, her hair was pulled back in a thick knot.
The woman with the ponytail also had two silver stripes on the sleeve of her jacket, which I thought might be an indication of rank. At least she seemed to be the leader of this pair, continuing the menacing slap of her paddle against her hand. Her sidekick or assistant just laughed.
When I reached the two guards, they dropped their cigarette butts to the floor and ground them out under the pointed toes of their boots. After I dared to sweep their cigarette butts off to one side, the lead guard said something to me. I didn't understand her language, which had a thick, eastern European tone. Then she thrust one of her boots forward.
"Kissy kissy!" she ordered, and then could not help laughing along with the other guard.
Leaning my broom against the wall, I got down on my hands and knees, and began to kiss her boot. This wasn't the first time they had put me through this routine, and when she was satisfied, I was presented with her other boot to smother with kisses.
I could hear the second guard whooshing her riding crop through the air. Wearing only a thong, my buttocks was clearly exposed, and I was surprised she hadn't whipped me already.
The two ladies had a brief conversation, and then the lead guard walked around behind me. She gave each cheek of my ass a firm swat with her paddle.
"Kissy kissy," ordered the second guard who now stood in front of me.
The swats with the paddle continued. Not so painful as to cry out, but they hurt and it did not seem as if they would ever stop. I tried to focus on the second guard's boots in some effort to take my mind off the pain.
The black leather of her boots was more scuffed than those worn by her leader, and the rubber tips on the heels were slightly mushroomed out with wear.
I was relieved when the paddling stopped, but then the second guard walked around behind me. After they conversed and laughed for a while, the other guard began to whip my bare ass with her riding crop. I'm sure she could have whipped me harder but after having been paddled, the pain was unbearable and I groaned out loud, begging her to stop, even if she might not understand a word I said.
The whipping stopped. The two ladies were talking softly and giggling. Then I felt one of them forcibly pulling down my thong. The spiked heel of one of their boots pressed painfully against one cheek of my ass, pushing me forward so they could pull my thong down past my knees, yanking it off and laughing. I looked up just in time to see the assistant guard throw my thong out an open window.
The head guard stooped and picked up one of their crushed cigarette butts from the pile of dust I'd been sweeping, and menacingly held it in front of my face.
"Oop arse!" she snarled. I was confused, then had the realization she wanted me to put her cigarette butt up my ass. Her assistant's laugh echoed loudly in the long stone corridor. "Oop arse," she commanded once again, and I meekly reached out and took the cigarette butt from her hand.
"Sorina! Elena!," a woman's voice suddenly called from the distant end of the corridor. There was the echo of high heels slowly approaching, and although I didn't understand what she then told the two guards, I could tell she was angry with them.
Loredana was tall, mature, and her long blonde hair was always worn in elaborately woven braids. Any time I had seen her, she was always wearing a form fitting jumpsuit made of silver metallic leather, with matching silver thigh high boots. On one sleeve were a number of wide black stripes, topped with a crest that looked like the outline of a bird. She was in charge here and it was unusual that Loredana would be walking around checking on her subordinates.
The two guards slowly walked over to Loredana as she continued to scold them. It seemed as if they didn't dare talk back to her. I just lay there on the floor, still holding the cold cigarette butt, not wanting to draw any attention to myself.
To my surprise, the two guards followed Loredana off down the passage, high heels clattering on the stone floors, fading into the distance and eventually around the corner at the far end. I finally thought I could breathe a sigh of relief.
"Aye, mate. Those birds have quite a thing for you, eh?" called out a cheerful man's voice. I looked around, but I was the only one in the corridor.
"Who's there?" I whispered cautiously.
"McGonnigle is the name. I'm down here. The lassies have me cleaning the old drainage tunnels," he replied, and I noticed the sound of his voice was coming from a metal grate in the floor not far away. "You're new here, eh?" he asked.
"Yeah," I replied. "Went overboard. Long story. Ended up here. Loredana says I'm her guest, but she has me working until she can get me off the island."