I could not help but notice that my new interrogator, Natasha, was an attractive woman. She had short, platinum blonde hair. Her attire was seductive. Tight latex pants hugged her round ass. Her low-cut, tight-fitting latex top revealed ample cleavage. She was fairly petite. But my helpless position in her presence filled me with dread.
She motioned for my guards to lead me away. They took me down the same hallway that Chris had travelled. But I could not see any sign of her. I started to wonder what was happening to her at that moment. But the thought was so depressing that I worked to put it out of my mind.
I was led into a large space. My heart sank when I saw where I was. Looking around, I could see countless instruments and devices that I realized were used in BDSM activities. Natasha entered behind us. I was still being held by the guards, with my wrists cuffed behind me. Natasha slowly ambled in front of me. I gasped as she roughly grabbed my cock in her hand.
"First of all, we have to cover the ground rules," she began. "For starters, you are only allowed to speak when spoken to. Is that clear?" I only nodded. Twisting my cock in her hand, she snapped, "Is that clear?"
Howling, I muttered, "Yes."
"Secondly," she continued, "if you are allowed to speak, you are to address me only as 'Mistress.' Is that clear?"
"Yes," I replied.
Again there was a hard twist of her hand. "What did you say," she demanded?