The Duel of the Dommes

Another Tuesday Morning

"Baby Domme!" Justine and Juliette squealed in unison, and high fived. They'd started doing that the first Tuesday after the signing of the contract, and hadn't ceased to find it amusing. The counter staff and other customers in the coffee shop might beg to differ, but nobody had said anything yet.

After they'd sat down and Juliette had got a couple of lattes and a free plate of almond macaroons, she started sniggering as she sat down again. Justine raised an eyebrow. "What's up?" she asked.

Juliette contained herself with a serious effort. "I've just thought," she said. "What if somebody watching us do that is part of the inner Circle? They probably have some sort of Mason type secret handshake and think we should be doing that instead of giving each other five."

Justine found herself sniggering as well. "And a secret password as well? Maybe if we were meeting in a pub off campus, or something," she said after she managed to contain herself.

Juliette had stopped laughing but was still grinning like a pumpkin. "Do you think we're maybe not taking this seriously enough?" she asked. She didn't, Justine thought, look like she found the possibility very worrisome.

"Malificent been complaining that she should have found a protege with no sense of humour again?" Justine asked. After a mere three weeks, she couldn't remember which of them had first referred to Madame Morticia as Malificent, but the name had stuck like glue. Justine thought it had probably been Juliette, as Mistress Anastasia hadn't heard that one when she mentioned it, and had seemed to like it a lot.

"You knows it, Baby Domme," Juliette said. "You know that she almost approached you? Instead of me?"

"You're shitting me," Justine said.

"No word of lie, honeypie. Apparently she was looking at your group, but she couldn't work out whether you or Jonelle were the top Domme from looking at you and didn't want to embarrass herself approaching the wrong one."

"Shame she didn't," Justine said. "Arianna would have thrown a fit. A meltdown of epic proportions."

"And then some, if she's as bad as you say," Juliette said. "It might have spoiled your evening a bit, though."

"It might have been a lucky escape for everybody," Justine said. "We'd probably have been made to clean up the floor after her head exploded. Not very dominant, really. "

"You could have made your slave lick the mess up," Juliette suggested. "Finding that out did make me wonder, though. I might have preferred to end up with the nice Dominatrix rather than the poster child for uncontrollable Dominatrix Toxaemia, though."

"Malificent would never have gone for me anyway, according to Anastasia."

"Really?" Juliette leaned forwards.

"So she says. Apparently Malificent's hair owes more to henna than genetics and she resents natural redheads."

Juliette took a sip of her coffee and considered that. "That sounds about right," she said. "I was thinking of getting some lowlights put in after I've grown this out a bit more, mentioned that to her Highness and was subjected to a withering stare. Like really withering, and then some. We're talking Lou Reed with cheekbones. She didn't have the brass neck to say anything about banning me from going more colourful, but it was obviously an unspoken hint."

Justine thought about that. Juliette had always had a taste for lurid fake looking hair colours and changed her look that way at irregular, but frequent intervals. She'd spent most of her last year of sixth form college sporting orange dreadlocks, and Justine was pretty sure that was the longest period she'd ever seen Juliette's hair stay one colour. "Maybe she thinks that you getting some crazy colours would be mocking her own completely natural hair colour," Justine said.

"As if! She's rather put me off going red for a while, put it that way."

"I hear you, baby Domme. Is she still on about your piercings not being Domly looking as well?"

"Only at the start and end of every session. And the occasional email or phone call."

"So we have a woman who dyes her hair and has a navel ring..." Justine started.

"And a pierced minge flap and clitty."

"For real? I can't see her stripping off in front of you."

"No fear, but I have done some research. The internet is great for that, I've found."

"You asked about that?"

"Yep," Juliette said. "Last time she started going on about how my shark bite and pig ring don't look very dominant I asked her if she'd gotten a brand on her bum to go with the rings in her bits. That took the wind out of her sails, and might even shut her up about it for a while."

"At least you're getting paid well for putting up with her," Justine said. That was the very first thing they'd compared notes on. It had emerged that Juliette was making quite a bit more from her chunk of the dual sessions they were being mentored through by their patrons because Morticia charged a hundred and fifty quid more for a session than Anastasia did.

"So I keep telling myself. Well enough even that having to catch a train to Manchester and only being able to do them at the weekend isn't cutting into my profits."

"Accentuate the positive," Justine said. "She trusted you to do a solo session yet?"

"Yep. Of course, it did cross my mind that this was a client she wanted to get rid of."

"How did it go?"

"Pretty well. He seemed happy enough, and I got to use a TENS unit, which was fun. Didn't give him a coronary or burn his cock, so I guess anything on top of that is a plus." Juliette had another go at her coffee and a swallowed a nibble. "The nice thing about that, is that I felt a lot more Dominant doing that to him unaccompanied than I do with Malificent lurking in the background while I'm doing heavier and more demeaning stuff to a gimp who isn't alone with me. Sometimes I feel like I might as well be naked and carrying her whips and sex toys on a silver platter when she pulls that."

Justine nodded. "I hear you. I sometimes get that vibe with Anastasia, though it's a bit more mumsy with her than I suspect it is with Morticia."

Juliette sighed in a very theatrical fashion. "I would not be surprised should that prove to be the case," she said.

"Have you mentioned to her that you're a woman who can make being naked seem Dominant?" Justine asked. Juliette laughed at that.

During their foundation year course at the University, there'd been a lad who had been very impressed by a photo Juliette had on her Tumblr page of her at a goth club in a long sleeved PVC dress, DMs and fishnets. He refused to take a hint and give up when she made it clear she wasn't interested. He spent a couple of months whining, until Juliette finally gave up and told him that if he got her the complete run of Black Butler and a couple of quarters of chocolate covered cinder toffee, then they could do something. "Something" in this case was allowing him to crouch at the foot of her bed while Juliette lay down on the bed eating toffees and reading manga. She did it in the nude, and opened the door to him naked giving him a full frontal before lying down on her tummy, but banned him from touching her, then told him to get out when she finished the toffees. He didn't bother her again after that.

"To be honest, that could turn out to be a fattening kind of Dominance," Juliette said. "I wouldn't like to do it all that often."

"And you're off cinder toffees and onto truffles now," Justine said.

"Right. It'd take much longer to go through a half kilo of those than it would the toffees too, wouldn't it?"

"Might get a bit sickly after a while, as well. Truffles are much richer than toffee, aren't they?"

"No kidding. Perhaps we could do some research to see what's the Domliest sort of sweeties like that?" Juliette had a wicked smirk on her, like a cart with a tail dangling from one corner of its mouth. "You eat a bag of those vicious vipers, or whatever they're called at Dylan in the proper posture and I'll eat some fizzy cola bottles at Matthew and we'll see which of them feels the most submissive afterwards."

"That might be more down to them and us than the sweeties, Julie."

Juliette smirked and shook her head. "Maybe so, baby Domme," she said. "Maybe so. And you're not into manga either, are you?"

Baby Steps In Thighboots

One nice thing about the money from the pro-sessions was that it was paying for Justine to expand her collection of fetish wear. For the current guy she was dolled in up a latex bikini, and matching fingerless opera gloves and thigh boots. The boots had rounded toes and wedges, rather than heels, but Justine still thought they worked, even though she thought a properly Dominant pair of thigh boots should have pointed toes and thin heels. The paying gimp seemed to like her outfit, which Justine supposed was the important thing. His cock was enormously erect as she shoved another needle through its head. Justine actually liked liked this guy. He was circumcised, he shaved downstairs, and he showered before coming to a session, which put her streets ahead of some. He was pretty easy to deal with as well.

Justine giggled as the gimp whimpered and sobbed. "There, there," she said. "Only one more." She pushed the last needle through his glans as slowly as she could. "There," she said. "What do we say?"

"Thank you, Mistress," the gimp said. Justine picked up a wand vibrator, switched it on and pressed it to his balls. He tensed against the restraints holding him to the Saint Andrew's cross and whimpered again. Justine was glad that she'd practised this with Dylan.

The ejaculation, when it came, was impressive. The semen was pink from blood where it passed through the glans, and shot a good distance. Justine stooped, making sure to face away from her client so that he got a good look at her buttocks, exposed by the thong bikini bottom, and scooped up the ejaculate on her fingertips, then extended it to his mouth.

"Suck," she said. "Clean up your filthy mess, you disgusting pig." He eagerly licked her fingers clean. That was it for this guy. Now she just had to pull the needles out of him, wipe him down with a disinfectant wipe, release him from bondage, grant him permission to kiss her feet and dismiss him. Much less demanding than some of the clients Anastasia had trusted her with.

The Home Life Of Our Own Dear Queen

"You've adjusted to all this very nicely, haven't you?" Justine asked, tweaking one of Dylan's nipples. "Being smooth and sleek. Sucking cock and being bummed. Staying locked away..." Justine's fingers moved to Dylan's cock cage "...and only coming when I say. Does James still want to rescue you from the nasty breeder skank who holds your key and owns you?"

"Yes, Mistress," Dylan said. Justine wondered if he'd be willing to get into a full time thing with a boyfriend if she turned him loose. She was still a little surprised how enthusiastically he'd taken to fellatio and sodomy, but she had an idea the fact that he didn't get to come if he didn't obey her had something to do with that.

"Is it a sweet romantic thing, do you think, or does he want to tattoo property stamps on you, take your key and make you his own slave after seeing how submissive you are?"

"I don't know, Mistress," Dylan said. Most of his gay dates had been one offs. Surprisingly very few of the other participants had been weirded out by his chastity device, but several had been offended that he wasn't allowed to come for them. It had crossed Justine's mind that maybe James was one of these, and was treating it as a challenge rather an insult. She had been making Dylan keep a journal of his gay sexual encounters, and putting it on her Mindworm page. Possibly he was inventing stuff, but there were the selfies, so he wasn't lying about everything. Perhaps he was doing well because of his new taste for leggings and leotards: the metal cage around his genitals gave him a conspicuous bulge, and made him look bigger.

"I know which you'd rather, you dirty little bitch," Justine said. "Look at you, oozing at the thought." She teased the tip of his cock to gather some precum on her fingertip, then pressed it to his lips. "Lick. Gay guys who are into S&M are much, much heavier than female Dominants like me or Arianna. Maybe he'd replace your cute little cage with a Kali's teeth bracelet so it wouldn't just be your balls that ache and a little pinching when you try to get hard. Me, I think these look really nice blue, and they go with your pink hair," she stroked his balls, "but maybe he'd like to lock you away completely in one of those insane helmet things. Think about that. Think about having a prince albert padlocked to a metal shell that covers everything. Do you think he's into goth boys who dress like Tim Curry, or is it the fact that you're all submissive that he likes?"

Dylan was tied down on Justine's spread-eagled. She'd got hold of a harness that fitted under the bed frame and had a leather manacle in each corner immediately after putting the money for her first session as a pro Domme in the bank. Before that, she'd used bondage tape to fasten his wrists and ankles to the head and foot boards. She always made a point of immobilising him before she released his cock and coaxed it into ejaculating. She wasn't sure that she was always succeeding in ruining the orgasm, but she managed most of the time. Dylan was getting good at applying makeup, and had either lost his inhibitions about the way he was dressing or was getting off on it. He'd arrived wearing a black vinyl leotard, tan tights with fake stocking seams printed up the back, black courts with three inch heels and pink pop socks under his lack leather faux biker jacket The accessory she'd let him leave on when he stripped for her, apart from the cage, was the leather collar with a d-ring that she'd had him buy a pet identity disc for, and get engraved, at the end of their first shopping expedition. The front of it said "Justine's Sissy Slaveboy", which wasn't ideal but had been all she'd been able to think of on the spur of the moment. Maybe it was time to think of another inscription and have him get another disc made up.

"I don't know, Mistress," Dylan said.

"Which would you rather?"

"Both, Mistress."

"Nuh uh, slaveboy. One or the other. Or you don't get to come this week."

"That he likes subby boys, Mistress."

Justine smiled down at him. For her part, she was wearing a pair of black wetlook leggings and a t shirt with a Luis Royo print on it. She was working on cultivating a dominant attitude, rather than dressing the part at home. Also, she'd noticed that having her feet bare seemed to do a lot of the work in holding Dylan's interest. She wondered if he'd sucked any of his boyfriends' toes.

"So you're hoping he's a really hardcore gay top who'll do things to you that make me look like a wuss, is that it?"

Dylan actually went pale. "No, Mistress," he said. Justine let him fret for a while, then applied a pair of clover clamps to his nipples and picked up her wand.

"I've decided," Justine said, "that we've been doing this backwards. Today, you're going to come first, and then demonstrate your obedience and worship after you've been despunked." She clicked the vibrator on and touched its head to his balls. Dylan wriggled and gasped. "You're eager to show that you still obey completely and without question even after your balls are drained, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress," Dylan moaned. Justine moved the vibrator from his balls to the cage.

"Just imagine how this would feel with some metal inside you," she said. "A metal catheter or a prince's wand. Or just a piercing. Much nicer than the cage, I'm sure." Dylan wiggled his bottom, trying to move the fat plug he was wearing to press on his prostate. Justine hadn't let him come without something up there since they'd started doing this.

Dylan's eyes rolled up into his head and he spasmed from head to toe as he came. Justine thought that one probably didn't count as ruined, but with the cage squeezing his cock as it tried to swell and spams, she was sure it had hurt. She switched off the wand, put it down and looked at his penis, which had stopped spurting, but was still twitching feebly.

"There. It looks like you've done a good job with the depilatory, and I can't see any chafing, so there's no need to remove this, is there?"

"No, Mistress," Dylan said.

"It's time to prove that you serve me, not your blue balls and your aching prostate. I'm going to release you, and you can worship my feet for an hour while I use the strap on your bum. If you please me, I'll remove the plug and send you on your way. If not, there'll be a forfeit and we start over. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mistress," Dylan said. Rather than ejaculating having killed his enthusiasm, there was a hot feverish look in his eyes. Justine unfastened his wrist straps, then stepped back and let him release his own ankles.

Hot Cars And Movie Stars

The Pig Farm did turn out to be more or less what it presented itself as, rather to Justine's surprise. Mistress Anastasia looked over at her as she pulled her Golf GTI over in the gravel area in front of the main house. Justine wasn't sure how Domly a hot hatch was as a car, but it had a bit more go than Arianna's people carrier, even if the back would probably only fit a single slave.

"Impressive, eh?" Anastasia said. "Yvonne's boyfriend bought it from a bank auction back in '08 when the global economy went south. I think it was originally a coaching inn, rather than a farm, though."

There was a large central building, which Justine thought was Georgian rather than Victorian. Facing that across the gavel parking space were some more recent brick outbuildings. There was a high wall around the place, and Justine had realised that the huge garden in the Pig Farm videos she'd seen were part of the property, and were presumably round the back of the house. It wasn't quite a manor, but it had three stories and a wide base.

"Very, very impressive," Justine said. "I'd always imagined that the interiors and maybe the odd shot of the back of the house were taken here, and everything else was done elsewhere."

"Nope," Anastasia said. "Yvonne even rents it out to other production companies who are wanting to do some outdoors filming. Of course, it's not the right time of year for filming outside, so the couple of films you'll be doing will both be inside. How are you holding up?"

"Terrified," Justine admitted.

"Well, let's go in and see if Yvonne can set your mind at ease a little," Anastasia said. "She's in auteur mode today, not Dominatrix mode, as she's overseeing a few productions she's not taking part in herself."

***

Yvonne, aka Lady Godiva, was striking even when dressed down. Even with her strawberry blonde mane scraped back into the sort of ponytail that reminds you just how long a horse's tail really is, and wearing a hoody, joggers and Uggs she was impressive. The other thing that was different from the films Justine had seen her in was the nervy energetic twitchiness. As a Domme she always moved slowly and regally, but out of character she was fidgeting and struggling to stay still while stuff needed doing.

"The first film should be pretty straight forwards," Yvonne said. She had exactly the same voice as in the films as well, but it sounded strange without the glacial hauteur it dripped with when she was talking to submissives in those. "No dialogue. You just assist Pippa as she 'examines'," Yvonne did air quotes with her fingers and smirked "the gimp in the medical room. Just try to make sure that Pippa's always between you and the camera and stay in the background."

"I'll try," Justine said. Yvonne sighed.

"You know what Yoda says about that, young lady," Yvonne said. "Trust me, you can do this and you will. I know you're terrified, but unless you completely corpse, the cameras will keep rolling."