Hazel Plays with Fire

Cautionary note - This chapter contains some extreme themes of domination (both male on female and female on male). There is also some suggestion of CBT and some pansexual activity. If you don't like any of these themes then best to miss this chapter. Try one of my other stories - they are more basically interracial. If you don't like Interracial then you've wandered onto the wrong part of the site and are

definitely

reading the wrong author.

Also the narrator's views and opinions are not necessarily those of the author.

Now that's out of the way we can get started...

Meeting Iyawa

"Looking forward to this?"

I took my eyes off the road to glance at my wife. We had shared many a sexual adventure over our few years together but it had been a while and it felt so good to be there.

"Tell me," she reiterated, "are you looking forward to this?" There was a slight undertone in her voice. I knew it well - she was excited. That could be very good or it could be very bad.

"Yes - I'm intrigued," I replied carefully.

"Is there anything you are particularly intrigued by - or anyone?" She was barely hiding her amusement now.

Why hide it? But I didn't want to say it. I just stared down the road - uncomfortably aware that even thinking about Iyawa had my penis growing in my pants.

"I think my husband is getting excited and I think I know why. She is amazing isn't she. Iyawa can take you to places that you can't even imagine She is very... skilled but she expects you to understand your place."

Iyawa was one of my wife's Black Owners. I had come to assume that there was a direct sexual component to that ownership, just as with her male owner Levy, but I had never had it confirmed by Hazel or on video before now.

"The two of you are... lovers." I could feel my penis straining against my underpants now. I knew the bulge had to be very visible as I sat there with my hands on the steering wheel.

"You like that idea I see. Well I don't know that we are lovers but I serve her and if I do well she sometimes rewards me. Enough for me to ALWAYS want to serve her well."

"What's going to happen tonight?"

"My mistress is going to enjoy herself. That's all I need to know and should be all you want to know. Isn't she amazing, isn't she beautiful, don't you want to please her?" My wife spoke quickly, breathlessly, as if imparting very important information.

I had never met Iyawa. I had only seen her image on a screen but I knew that she was beautiful, striking in a way that very few women are. Hazel was also beautiful, desirable in a soft feminine way. Iyawa was undeniably feminine but she was tall, statuesque and with a strength and power that seemed to radiate from her. A natural authority that she shared with Levy. I found it attractive, dangerously attractive. Otherwise why would I be driving my wife, her slave, to meet her.

"You're lucky. The others will have paid at least a grand to be there tonight. Iyawa's shows are always booked up far in advance."

"It's not just you, me and her then."

Hazel laughed. "Oh no, I don't know what my Mistress wants us for but I know it will be a lot more interesting than THAT."

I should have stopped the car and turned round then. Or dropped Hazel off there and headed for home as fast as possible. However, I had been 'hooked' far too efficiently to do that. Iyawa was literally fascinating me - I had felt that since my first glimpse of her. Especially since I had seen her, a woman, treat Levy with amusement. Only someone very special could do that. I NEEDED to meet her in person.

Initially I was to be disappointed. We arrived at a nondescript industrial estate and parked up by a group of other vehicles in front of a large warehouse.

We were admitted by a Black woman who took Hazel in her arms and kissed her deeply. Her hand moved up Hazel's skirt to find the bare white pussy beneath. I knew my wife would be wearing no underwear - that was one of the ten rules given to her by Levy. The ten rules she had promised to obey - a pledge now permanently inked into the pale skin of her arm.

I tried not to stare but I felt a slight disappointment. The woman was certainly striking but the images had lied to me. She was almost the Iyawa of my fantasies but not quite. There were subtle differences in her face, her form, her way of standing, in everything.

"This is my husband," said Hazel as their kiss momentarily broke.

The Black woman's eyes flicked towards me and then back to Hazel. "Yes - Iyawa told me about him. My sister is hoping he will join the performance."

Hazel giggled again, somewhat disconcertingly. "He only agreed to drive me up here. He's a bit... vanilla."

Now the woman turned her eyes fully onto mine. They were like her sister's, almost amber but perhaps with a little less of a feline quality to them. "You would please my sister very much if you agreed to join us. Wouldn't you like to please my sister, to please Iyawa?"

My sub-concious was screaming at me. I had sensed all the warning signals. Hadn't I seen the dangers with my own wife? Did I really want to join her in playing with fire? But I still wanted to meet Iyawa, I still wanted to experience that amazing personality in the flesh. I still hoped to...

I won't write that. It's too embarrassing that I ever hoped for that.

"Yes," I said, a little surprised that the word emerged almost as a croak from my dry lips.

"Nervous?" the woman smiled at me. I waited for the reassurance that I needn't be. It didn't come. Finally I just nodded.

"I will get you both a drink while you are waiting to be called for the show." She returned after a few moments with a large glass of liquid for each of us. I tasted it - some sort of a fruit punch. I had expected 'a drink', alcohol, but I was relieved that it wasn't. I knew I would need my wits about me and anyway the drink did wonders for my dry mouth and throat. I saw Hazel drink hers down in one motion and followed suit. When in Rome...

Iyawa's sister began leading us down a corridor, her body between myself and my wife. Her hand was firmly grasping Hazel's butt, my wife's body leaning into hers as they walked. I was left on the outside until the Black woman pointed at a door.

"In there - get ready." I opened the door and they had left me even before I stepped inside.

***

"Hi there" said another man, naked safe for his underpants, "are you new here?"

"Err - yes," I replied before taking his outstretched hand. Another man said a cheerful "Hi", as he peeled off his socks and dropped them into a plastic washing basket.

"You won't regret it - I suppose Jim and I have seen most of the Mistresses active over the last twenty years in the City. None of them come within a thousand miles of Mistress Iyawa. She is just amazing."

"Fucking right - and she knows it too. Fucking pricey," muttered another man who wandered in, buck-naked safe for a thong, his big pasty pink beer-belly hanging over the material.

"Ah but she's worth it - worth more than just money." The first man taped his neck with his fore-finger. I saw that there was a design tattooed there representing a ring-collar. I wondered if he'd gone to Darcus for that. I doubted it - Darcus seemed to like his clientele much younger and prettier.

"I'm not fucking denying that Ted. I'll be honest if it was less than two grand a session I'd probably be here every week. But business being as it is and the wife wanting that new holiday-home in the Cotswolds..."

"I hear you - but at least we get the downloads."

The first guy, a big brawny man about my own age, pointed at a spare plastic washing basket. "I'm Mike - put your clothes in there and hurry because we'll be called soon,"

"Is that necessary?"

Mike looked at me with a quizzical expression on his face. "We play by our Mistress's rules here. If you want to meet her then you had better understand that."

They were all naked now. Five white men ranging from mid- to late-middle age. Greying hair and pot bellies in the most part. They were all looking at me as if I was the crazy one.

"One minute." Hazel was at the door. She saw me and frowned. "Get ready quick - or you can go and wait in the car. We can't keep the Mistress waiting.

Now they were all looking at me. I gave in and began unbuttoning my shirt. After that first button I felt pot-committed and rushed like a fool to be ready to go out there in time.

It had a momentum of its own and before I knew it I was with the other men being hurried out into the main room, a huge space with a small stage surrounded by a couple of rows of comfortable seating. Cameras moved silently on gantries recording.

Just as we reached the stage Joanna, Hazel's friend, was there at a table with papers and a pen. The others paused to sign a paper each before moving on.

I was last and picked up my sheet of paper. A waiver - giving consent to be on camera and...

"Don't read it just sign it - you're making us late." My wife's voice was strident in my ear.

"But I didn't know I'd be filmed."

"Oh for fuck's sake. What a baby." Joanna leaned under the table and pulled out a leather hood. "Now sign it or fuck off."

I signed it and Hazel helped me put on the hood and then I was on stage beside the others. I was uncomfortably aware of the watching audience and of the cameras but at least now no-one would recognise me.

All I could smell was the leather of the hood but it allowed pretty good vision and holes at least gave me enough hearing to detect the sharp click of heels on the concrete flooring. I looked across and saw a woman rise from a sofa where she had been relaxing. I glimpsed the man who had been sat with her and recognised Levy but that fact hardly registered with me. All of my attention was on her.

Iyawa.

If anything the images I had seen had not done her justice. If a sculptor had sought to capture one of the ancient goddesses in the finest-finished basalt then he would have dreamed of matching her. But he would have failed. She was perfection. She moved towards us with an amazing blending of grace and purpose, her beautiful and very African face matched by her perfectly-proportioned physique. She was gym-toned, fit and athletic. Muscular without compromising her complete femininity. Curved where a woman should be curved without seeming to carry an ounce of excess weight elsewhere.

She was obviously blessed in her appearance but it was more than just that. She clearly worked hard to maintain it. To ensure that she looked just as amazing as she now did. She wore four inch all-black heels and dark fishnet thigh-highs. A small black triangle of material covered her pussy and another her ass - joined by thin black leather straps. Her toned midriff was bare, as were her arms and back. Two silver buckles gleamed as they held together the two pieces of black material, almost wide straps, that covered but did not entirely hide her nipples. Her cleavage was exposed, her long raven-black hair flowing free over her shoulders.

She was a vision and my body reacted to the sight of her. I knew it wasn't a good idea and I almost wished it was a little cooler in the room. I dropped my hands to hide my growing excitement.

"Hands behind your backs," said Iyawa, her voice rich with confidence and authority.

I glanced at my fellows and saw their arms were already clasped behind their backs. I still hesitated - unwilling to expose myself.

Iyawa strode across to a stand beside the stage and rolled down its cover in a fluid motion. I saw the items there and gasped. Iyawa selected one, took a place toward me and then languidly flicked her wrist. The whip flicked out and its tip just kissed the leather of my mask. The blow didn't hurt me but stunned me a little. None the less I got the message and hurried to clasp my hands behind my back

"Since you are new I am generous. If you fail to obey again then perhaps I will open your back with my bulala." She made the whip crack loud in the air as she gave me a smile of pure triumph and control.

"Now gentleman", she loaded the word with irony and contempt, "for the record you will confirm that you are here of your free will and in order to participate by MY rules?"

She pointed her whip at Jim where he stood at the end of the line.

"Yes Mistress, it is my honour Mistress."

Then to Ted and then to each along the line, always the pointed whip and the same response. They had been here before and knew the drill.

Finally the whip pointed at me. I hesitated and Iyawa raised one perfectly-sculpted eyebrow. I seemed able to read everything into that tiny movement. I read contempt at my cowardice and I read scorn of my claims of masculinity. Most of all I saw disappointment. I remembered what Hazel had said earlier, about how I was 'vanilla.' I didn't want to be vanilla and I didn't want to disappoint Hazel, most of all I didn't want to disappoint Iyawa.

"Yes Mistress, it is my honour Mistress." The words poured out of me in a flood, propelled by sudden desperation, a desperate desire to please Hazel and Iyawa,

Iyawa smiled showing a line of perfect teeth. She moved forward and placed her hand on my bare chest. Her amber eyes seemed huge, to take in all of my vision. Then I felt her fingers as they found my prick, standing up hard against my belly. One languid finger traced its length. She felt me gasp and tremble. Then, with a laugh, she turned and strode back to the centre of the stage.

"Where are my slaves? Slaves - make sure that they are ready for our performance."

My hands were grasped where I held them behind my back and there was a sudden click. I was then pulled back to a vertical pole on the stage and another click saw my handcuffs attached to a ring there. I was helpless almost before I realised it. Certainly before I realised that it was Joanna that had done it. Now she moved across to Ted and I saw Hazel locking Jim to his pole across the way.

"THAT," Iyawa gestured towards my penis with the handle of her whip, "is wuwu, er, ugly. You think I want to see a konji white boy - what you say - a horny little thing like that. Slaves - make sure there is no repetition. Slave two," she pointed her whip handle at my wife, "make sure you are the one to see to THAT." She almost spat out the last word without bothering to hide her contempt.

Hazel fetched something off stage and moved up to me.

"Sorry but you should behave," she said as she pushed an ice-pack onto my genitals. I gasped in surprise. I opened my mouth but found words wouldn't come. As I sucked in air I felt my shrinking penis taken in my wife's hand. She hadn't touched me there since Levy had reappeared but I had no time to enjoy it. She pushed something over my dick and then there was another click. I looked down and saw my penis was trapped in a little metal and plastic cage.

"What the fuck..." I finally got out.

"Gag him slave two." Iyawa ordered.

I tried to shake my head but Hazel still got a strap around it and then pushed a plastic ball into my mouth before tightening it in place. I could breath but when I tried to talk it became a muffled inaudible noise.

Iyawa snapped her fingers. Hazel and Joanna dashed back to stand behind her Then Iyawa again herself walked up to me. I couldn't resist the power of her presence. Her eyes captured mine and I watched helplessly as she came closer. Once more she reached out a hand and ran her vividly scarlet finger nails across my chest.

I gasped. She was so close that my whole senses seemed full of her presence. Despite it all my prick was trying to grow to readiness only, of course, to meet the unyielding steel of that cuckold's cage. The feeling was not a comfortable one.

"You like your new cage?" Her voice was deep, silkily seductive. Just the sound of it made my dick twitch and again painfully meet its constraints.

"NNHGGHHHHNNNN," I said through my gag.

"If you look you will see two of your new friends do not have to wear one. Would you like not to wear one?"

I glanced and saw Mike and Jim were both unfettered. Their small pink penises limp but unconstrained.

"IIYYUUUSSSS." I tried to enunciate.

"Well - it is simple. Any Doctor can refer you and once you have the operation," she brought her fingers together in a snipping motion like the blades of a pair of scissors, "our own doctor will check and make sure that you are harmless. No more nasty white boy sperm. Nice and clean like your friends over there. Who knows perhaps your wife would allow you back into her bed..." Iyawa looked me in the eyes and then her face broke into a wide smile. "...or perhaps not. She has found better now. Isn't that right slave two?"

"Yes Mistress," said Hazel. I felt the betrayal but its sting was deadened by my amazement that through all of this my cock still kept vainly trying to burst out of its metal cage.

Iyawa's hand travelled down my chest, her eyes locked on mine, until it reached the cage. She tapped it with her finger-nail. "We saved a special one for you. The key will be around Slave two's neck and when necessary she can just press a switch and..."

Iyawa gestured to Hazel and suddenly I felt an electric shock. Not a very big one but quite sufficient to make its point. I looked at Iyawa in alarm.

She smiled like a particularly amused cat with a captive mouse. ""Yes - you understand I see. At the moment it is at low level but it need not always be. I understand it causes no permanent damage but for the moment concerned..."

I looked again into the mocking but beautiful eyes of Iyawa. "Now we understand each other," was all she said to me.

A gentle roll of laughter moved around the audience. There was no help coming from there or from anywhere. I was scared but also horribly, illogically, turned on. I knew Iyawa was demonstrating her strength, her power, her control. She was using me but she would as happily have used any man, at least any white man. I found Iyawa's natural authority intoxicating, powerfully and undeniably erotically stimulating. I was humiliated and degraded but also - what had she called it - konji. Horny. I wanted her even though I knew that I could never have her, even though I knew that she would punish me for the insult of my desiring her.

Iyawa pulled a new piece of apparatus onto the stage with a large round piece of wood mounted onto it. The wood was divided into six sectors each marked with a number and Iyawa gave the wooden circle a firm spin.

"We call this, for those that are new, the wheel of destiny. First we will decide our first player. Only five white boys here today because Alan could not attend. Happily his fee is not returnable. So his sector, number six, is empty or perhaps it could represent Slave Two."

I saw Hazel stiffen a little at the words. I suspected she had seen this wheel spun before.

Iyawa's musical laugh sounded out as she moved her hand between my wife's legs. "Perhaps you like the idea but no - not tonight - tonight we have these little piggies to reward or to punish." I'd seen my wife bend her knees a little to give Iyawa's fingers better access. My head seemed in a whirl, only grasping the moment and Iyawa's presence and the dull nagging constriction of that steel cage on my dick.

I glanced across and saw the men all watching the wheel intently, a number on each of their poles. I quickly saw that my number was one and began to devoutly pray that the wheel didn't stop there.

It spun and spun, its motion gradually slowing, the numbers becoming distinct from the previous blur. It came to a stop safely in the quadrant marked three.

"Ah - we have a winner, so let's see your prize," said Iyawa. Hazel and Joanna were already moving across to Ted where he stood shackled to his pole.

Iyawa spun the apparatus round to reveal the reverse of the wheel divided into ten segments.