Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: <mrspraycan.an@edtec.com> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.femdom,alt.sex.spanking Subject: Sandi's Deal Pt.2, by MrSpraycan Disclaimer: Adults only, whatever that means wherever you are lucky enough to be reading this. If you don't like femdom, this isn't for you. This item is of fictional nature. All persons and places in it are imaginary and no resemblance to real or historic characters is intended. No illicit behavior is endorsed or condoned. Art and/or Entertainment is the idea. *Copyright* is claimed, subject to the amendments listed in Pt.1. (c) 1995 and 1997 by Baton Rouge ThoughtScapes, and for the author, Mr.Spraycan, who chooses to be 'anon'. For entertainment purposes only. No commercial use is warranted without permission. Do not repost. Store only with this notice intact. This is MrSpraycan Story No. 45. SANDI'S DEAL, Pt. 2 And call she did. I was quite anxious, wondering what she'd get up to. Would she be able to do a deal? Did I want her to? Half of me did, half didn't. "Hello? Okay, slave, I've got some news for you," she started, quite brightly. "Ah, let's see . . . . There's good news and bad news . . ." "Okay, give me the good news first," I replied. "Well, you don't have to worry about making lots of decisions, anymore . . ." "Okay. You've decided for me, you mean. And the bad news?" "Right. But more good news first . . . and you won't be having to apologize and explain to any of those delicious young ladies why you don't want them . . ." "That sounds like more of the bad news, Sandi . . ." "Uh uh..." she chuckled. "It's the good news, still. The bad news is that, yes, you've got some new Mistresses, starting at 6pm tomorrow night. And you've only got 'til then to get things ready for them . . . ." "You did a deal??" I asked, feeling my stomach leap. "Oh, you betcha . . ." she crowed. "I'm an amazing negotiator! Some deal it is, too. They accepted the principal, but the details took some fixing. Took nearly half a day of back-and-forth calls, and a big conference call to finish up just now . . . Actually, you get a bit less time, 'cos you're driving out to the airport to pick me up off the 16:05 USAir arrival from San Diego. Okay?" "You're coming back?" I said, suddenly happy. "For the weekend, yes . . . and to make sure the contract gets signed by everyone . . ." she said warmly. "And, uh, who's everyone?" I asked nervously, still glowing at the thought of seeing her. "Don't bother coming into the terminal," she continued, obliviously. "You still have the Cherokee, right? Just circle and pick me up at the curbside, about twenty after. You know, the old Halloween routine we discussed . . ." "Which one?" I asked anxiously. "Version 2, please. It was your idea, as I recall . . ." I did. And it was. She meant, I'd be driving there almost nude, as opposed to completely nude: That was v1.0. But I'd still be in an absurd, skimpy outfit. Thank God for dark windows. And, in advance I started praying for no traffic jams, flat tires, nosey cops, fenderbenders, etc. She ticked off: "The black patent maryjanes, the sheer black stockings with seams --and get them straight! -- black garterbelt, the lowcut black silk blouse with the big buttons . . . and the black chiffon half slip . . . . that'll do . . . no panties for you . . . . let it swing, huh?" All these clothes were in a small suitcase in one of my spare rooms. "If you don't have everything, stop off at some discount market first thing in the morning and pick up some cosmetics. Very tarty eye makeup, bright red lipstick, and the same color varnish for your finger and toenails, please . . . you still have your hair long?" "Yes, but . . ." "Mousse it and spray it. Big hair, please . . . A bow would be a good touch. I'll allow a few barrettes and things, provided they're totally feminine . . ." "Sandi, please . . . ?" I tried. "NO!!! Do as you're told, damn you!!!" she yelled, making my ear ring. "Obey, or face the consequences!! Now, listen carefully. We're going straight on from there to a private reception at a country hotel I know. There's a lot of interest in seeing you dressed up in women's clothes -- I had them in stitches telling them about taking you to those two drag parties. But don't worry, you'll only stay that way long enough to be laughed at . . . and then you can get used to the idea of being naked in front of everyone . . ." "Oh, Jesus . . . So, who's everyone? You still didn't say . . ." "Well, you . . ." she chuckled. "And me, as your original owner. And, well, you must have guessed by now . . . Linda . . . Jane . . . Heather . . . . Diane . . . . Carmen . . ." "Carmen?" "Diane's mother, of course . . .oh, and Wendy . . ." "Now, who's Wendy? I don't recall . . ." "Linda's roommate. She's bi, like Linda, and a year or two younger, but she'll be quite happy to do you, too. Apparently, she used to poke her ex-boyfriend's ass, according to Linda." "Oh, great . . ." I grunted, feeling a mope coming on. "No one else then? Couldn't find a few guys, a dog . .?" "Now then, slave, be nice . . . and don't provoke me, either. I could, you know," she said, laughing at my discomfort. "And, yes, initially there'll be a few more: a couple of neutral witnesses -- I think a waitress or two, a notary. Once you accept the basic idea, what does it matter? If you were okay about four . . . Five, six, who cares?" "I started off with the idea of one," I reminded her, glumly. "Then you've won the lottery! Be grateful," she giggled."You'll know a lot more after the signing ceremony, but I can assure you, it's all quite to your taste . . . You wanted slavery, and you're sure as hell going to get it. A full legal contract for you to sign, spelling out the women's rights, and your duties . . . Get it? Total slavery, at their pleasure, for as long as they please, with no rights whatsoever for you . . ." A pause. "Now," she continued. "We have some other arrangements to make. When you leave tomorrow, put a key to the house in the geranium pot on the patio, by the back door. There's some stuff to be moved in . . ." "Oh, they're moving in while I'm away?" I asked, rather offended, trying not to raise my voice. "No, they aren't doing anything," Sandi explained. "Some movers will be calling, with some of Carmen's things . . .they'll get them set up in the basement. There's plenty of room down there, I remember. Only a bit used for storage. Well, the idea is to get prepped so it's all ready when we bring you back in a day or two . . ." She'd paused again. I felt a little chill run down my spine. Hadn't Diane said Carmen had a heap of S&M stuff in storage? "Uh . . . what things, my Lady?" I asked anxiously. "Oh, I'm sure you'd prefer to be surprised . . ." she chuckled. "But, well, let's just say that she'll be saving a lot on monthly storage fees, but she'll be filling up a big Ryder rental truck to do it . . . ha ha. Remember? She was a professional dominatrix . . . so she has all the good things you need. Like, several whipping frames . . . various whipping stools . . . some modified tables, designed for strapping someone to . . . various items picked up secondhand from medical supply places . . . a set of stocks . . . even a rack. I don't know what else. Some of these things are huge, like heirlooms that have been passed on from one dom to another. Uh, we can get big stuff into your basement through some loading doors, right?" "Yes, by the garage, next to the patio. You can back a truck right up to it. There's a ramp and double doors . . . it used to be for a wine cellar, or something, but . . . ." She wasn't going to wait. "Fine. It sounds like it's going to be, jeez, a whole medieval dungeon down there!! Wow! The movers are some theatrical buddies of hers, and they'll know how to arrange everything. They'll be rigging up some extra lighting, some video stuff, putting up a few screens and drywall partitions, hanging lots of drapes for ambience. The overhead beams and joists are all visible, so they can rig stuff there. And add a few hoists and anchor points where necessary. There'll be one wall decorated with whips and stuff, ready to use. And she has several cupboards and dressers just stuffed with straps and chains, restraints and gags; whips, and all kinds of torture implements . . . turns out she catered to the real whackos and freaks for a while, so there's some far-out stuff . . . a whole lot of new ideas we can experiment with. On you. . . " "Please, no . . ." I gasped. A chuckle. "God, you're going to suffer! Everyone has so many ideas! We'll all be getting a course in the fine points of penis torture, by the sound of it. You, in particular." "Oh, Sandi . . . no . . . " "Uh huh. Don't whine. Remember how happy you were, that time I stapled your foreskin to my desk when you visited the office? Right . . . ." Happy wasn't the word I'd choose. I'd met her one Saturday afternoon when she was there alone, working on a project that was late. She'd been in a playful mood, and wanted to see me walk around naked. Then, the stapler had been produced. Afterwards, my foreskin had swollen to the size of a baseball catcher's mitt and needed antibiotics and icepacks for several days. I had ejaculated all over her blotter, though. And bled quite a lot too. "So don't think you'll get away with it being neglected. No way. Your prick is definitely a major priority. It'll be clamped and strapped in all kinds of positions. And it's going to be slapped and caned extensively. We can make it real big doing that, I know . . . and it'll get dipped in chili sauce, all kinds of stuff like that . . . not to mention, it's a leading candidate for a tattoo, slave . . . ." "Carmen got quite nostalgic when I asked if she'd be interested in taking care of your asshole, darling. Seems that was always one of her special things. So we're making lots of plans. I think we'll be calling in a plumber to add some features to that big spare bathroom in the attic. The one you've been thinking of getting rid of? I think not. It's perfect for water sports of all kinds . . . it's huge, so there's plenty of room for chairs for guests to sit and watch . . . there's that big old-fashioned enameled tub . . . nice and deep, isn't it? . . . lots of long mirrors . . . nice high ceiling and extractor fans so it won't get too steamy . . . and overhead, those uncovered beams will be useful for various suspension purposes . . . good natural lighting from the skylights for photography . . . oh, just think about it . . . " I was, and it wasn't at all reassuring. " . . . imagine yourself being led in there, naked and handcuffed, with all of us sitting comfortably, watching. Being shown the nice brass nozzles, hoses, and whatever . . . then being sat on the potty and told to take a preparatory poop, before you get the full treatment. Oh, you'll be so humiliated! But that'll just be the start . . . She says she is very fond of rigorous enema and penetration therapy. Preferably with an audience to enjoy the show. Thinks a few hours of getting his ass ready, then a few more getting it reamed out is the only way to teach a guy who's boss. I said that you didn't have a lot of experience of being buggered, and were quite nervous about it. She says that's quite okay. She enjoys teaching virgins, and knows all about how to go about stretching them and teaching them what to do so they do it right in future. Gentle but firm, is her idea. Then, into the serious stuff. So, expect a good long hard fucking, my boy. Oh, won't that be cool? Won't it make you feel like a real slave?" "Oh . . . ." I was hard, my head reeling with visions. "And I discussed the anal idea with all the others too," she explained. "So, if you've been missing my middle finger . . ." -- that was her extent of playing this game, with a jar of vaseline and a heavy industrial-type rubber glove on -- "you're going to be so pleased with what happens. You've got a group of boisterous young women who are going to be eager to fuck you, all encouraging each other in the process. Mmm, let's see . . . we already mentioned the big soapy enemas, didn't we? ... then there's all sorts of vibrators and dildos -- hand-held and strap on -- that they're familiar with using in other contexts. If they don't want to use their own, Carmen has like a Smithsonian museum's worth!! Yes, there was a lot of enthusiasm. Including the personal touch. At least two of your new lady friends are very interested in bringing a personal dimension to it . . -- Story Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> Newsgroup FAQ: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/faq.html> Archive site: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/> (Not pretty yet)