Acting Dominant

by Tigger

©2008

Chapter 15: Things That Go Thump in the Dark

   

The Valkyrie used her sword to clear her path of any stray male slaves as she moved toward Solange. She whispered something in the Queen's ear, then turned to leave once more. Nodding her approval, Solange moved back to the dais and took up the microphone. "Your attention, please. We're just about ready to begin, but before we do, I want to discuss one more aspect of this game with you now that our contestants are isolated and cannot hear what I have to say"

The remaining guests gravitated back to the dais, their full attention on the Queen.

"Now, I mentioned earlier that safewords would be honored, but that they would be construed as a challenge failure. That's true, insofar as that goes, but let me give you the fuller picture of how we will ensure safety in these sessions."

THAT got their attention, Solange thought. She had expected that the previous description of "being punished for safewording" wouldn't sit well with many of the more experienced players in the room, so she'd decided to share this aspect of her plans with the larger assembly. It meant that watching the challenge-scenes would lack some of the drama she'd originally envisioned, but given the nature of the people she had invited, she'd known she would need to bring them more fully into her real plans.

Just not quite ALL the way in.

"Look, we know that we will be putting people in situations in which they may well – heavens – they WILL find themselves immersed in some pretty heavy play-scenes. I think it is likely that these will be scenes for which the contestants may have little or no experience. As a result, we at the dungeon are very concerned about tripping hard over unexpected limits. In order that this potential is absolutely minimized, I have asked two of the most knowledgeable and intuitive Dommes in the city to observe all challenge play via closed-circuit video links. They will serve as dungeon masters for these challenge scenes, and as such, I have granted them final and ultimate authority to terminate any challenge scene at any time for any reason. Additionally, if they terminate a challenge scene because they believe the player is or is close to violating his or her own limits - in other words, trying TOO hard - the involved player will still earn the winner's prize. However, for reasons of safety, we will ask that player to refrain from participating in any more play tonight."

She saw the relief on the faces of key members of her audience and knew this had been the right thing to do. "Thanks, Maitresse," the man who had voiced the original concerns spoke up. "I feel better about this now."

Solange nodded regally, and then picked her microphone back up. "All Right, Then! Our players are ready. If you will all look at the screen behind me, please?"

The screen split to show two views of the curtained-off portion of the upper floor. There were clearly two breaks in the curtain. On the left hand side of the screen stood a very nervous looking Walter Evans. A murmur rippled through the crowd as they took in his 'kit', which consisted of grossly oversized boxing gloves tied on to his hands, a bright orange jock strap, and some type of chain between his ankles.

On the other split of the screen, they saw a thick-bodied brunette, garbed in a ripped 'Gold's Gym' muscle shirt, running shorts and sneakers, waiting patiently at the break on the opposite side of the curtained area.

The Domina was Mistress Emerald, a competitive body builder whose work at the dungeon helped defray the costs of her training. Her domination specialty was using raw strength to overwhelm her clients physically, either in tests of strength or in wrestling matches. She was also generally acknowledged to give the hottest hand spankings in the dungeon, usually as a forfeit for having lost to her in some test of strength.

Solange lifted the microphone to her lips and called out, "Ladies, Gentlemen and slaves - ARE YOU READY TO RUMBLE??!?"

A loud cheer answered her, and she grinned. "I've always wanted to do that. All right, then, Mr. Evans will attempt to evade or to capture Mistress Emerald within three minutes in the Hall of Horrors! But first, let me explain the kit we have provided for our contestant. The orange, ummm, athletic supporter is just that, and it includes a cup."

She shot a frightening smile down at the two males closest to the stage. "Just in case something happens. . . there? Don't you think, boys?"

She was rewarded when both men reflexively clamped their legs together in Pavlovian response to the image she'd indirectly put in their minds. "I see you do. Now, about those boxing gloves. They've been tied tightly to his hands so that there will be no danger should he accidentally hit Mistress Emerald in his certain-to-be futile struggles to escape her clutches," Solange reported as an unseen operator zoomed the camera in on the oversized gloves. "I'm told that this size glove is specifically used for training children to box, and that it is almost impossible to strike a hurtful blow when wearing them. They also," she added with an evil smirk to her audience, "Do interesting things to the wearer's manual dexterity."

An appreciative buzz filled the room, and Solange continued. "If you will notice Mr. Evans' feet," and the camera panned down, "You will see he has been restrained with a hobble chain. The chain is only two feet long and has two bells. We've tested this apparatus recently, and have found it is almost impossible to move about with that chain on and prevent the bells from ringing."

"And now, let the games begin!" Solange flipped a switch on the table, and spoke again. "Mistress Emerald, you may enter the Hall!" The powerfully built mistress shot her opponent and the camera her best front double biceps flex pose, then slipped inside.

"On the count of three, Mr. Evans, you will enter the Hall and the clock will start! One, Two, Three!" The crowd cheered as the Evans took two halting steps toward the curtain and then tripped and fell through the curtain, his bells ringing merrily.

Guests quickly dispersed to the other large screens scattered throughout the ballroom, everyone trying to get the best possible view as the split-screens shifted to follow both Mistress and contestant into the unlighted space. The cameras installed in the Hall had been selected for low-light functionality, so the figures were clear and distinct, if not colorful.

Emerald, clearly confident of her ability to handle a hobbled and hand-deprived submissive physically, took up a position ten or so feet inside the exit point. She settled into a defensive stance - feet spread with her hands relaxed and in front of her- and settled to wait for her prey to come to her.

For his part, Evans was trying to walk while holding the two bells with his boxing gloves, in an attempt to muffle them. It worked to a point, but even the thumbs of the damned boxing gloves were too wide to get into the bell mouths, so they continued to ring with every step, albeit considerably muted compared to their clattering during his inauspicious entry into the Hall of Horrors.

The crowd howled with laughter at the incredibly awkward position he assumed to be able to hold the bells and still 'walk'. "He looks like he's a doggie taking a dump!" one wag was heard to say.

~--~

In addition to looking ridiculous, walking in that position was very hard on the normally unused muscles in his glutes and thighs. Walter had barely managed twenty feet into the Hall when the strain and burn of muscle fatigue started to set in. He gritted on, making his way to the hall's first corner, but then had stop for rest. If only his hands were free, he thought.

~--~

Solange watched on the monitor screen as he tightened his knees on one gloved hand, then pushed his body up with his legs using all his strength. Not so easy as that, my little man, she thought, and was just as quickly proved right. The glove remained fixed to his hand. Worse, his knee-grip slipped and he was flung backward against the wall by the force of his own legs; the tinkling of silver bells clearly audible throughout the entire dungeon floor.

~--~

Emerald heard the bells, faint as they were from her location, and calculated that he must be about a third of the way around.

"Two minutes left," Solange's voice called out over hidden speaker system. Well, the muscular Domina thought as she flexed her fingers and hands, he's right on time.

~--~

Evans tried to think of something - anything - he could do to turn this around. He had only TWO minutes left and no idea for how far he still had to go. Well, Emerald MUST have heard that bell peal - that was for sure. So if they rang a little more and he got some time back, he'd be no worse off than he was, right? Who knew? He might just catch her unawares and run past her. Thought became deed and he took off as fast as his chain-hobbled feet could manage.

He'd just gotten to the second corner when his feet hit something slippery. He felt them go out from under him and fell hard on his butt. He must have slid ten feet or more before he stopped. He couldn't feel anything with the gloves on, so he stuck his nose next to the floor and sniffed. Vaseline, he thought.

An idea hit. Sitting flat, he used his legs and gloves to dig the bells into the goop, trying to scoop as much of the stuff into the bell mouths as he could. He tested them, and smiled – nary a sound. Now, Mistress She-Hulk and he were on nearly even terms. At least he had a chance to out-stealth her.

~--~

That noble lady had heard her prey's "ooof" of surprise when he fell, and then nothing. She could tell he was just down the long hall from her. He was close - very close. She readied herself to repel a final, all-out headlong charge for freedom. He'd try to get past her and go for the exit, she thought, because they both knew he didn't have a prayer of holding her down, even if he got lucky and knocked her off her feet somehow. Well, there was no way she was letting him get past her, either.

She'd promised Maitresse Solange.

"ONE MINUTE," Solange announced. "One minute to go, and we can see you both. You're a LONG way from victory, Mr. Evans. Too bad."

~--~

Evans had submitted to La Maitresse for years, and he knew her - knew her tricks, knew her voice tones. She was goading him - probably misleading him. He HAD to be close to the end. Surely, in one minute. . .

~--~

Emerald was getting a little worried. Where were the bells? Why weren't they ringing? Had he hurt himself? Was he down and not moving because he couldn't move? Surely not, because Solange was watching, and she'd announce something like that – stop things and call for help - if there was a problem of that nature.

Dammit, why weren't those bells ringing!?

~--~

Evans crept a few more feet, feeling his way along the wall, but he nearly slipped again. The damn vaseline was still on his feet. "30 seconds! You have only 30 seconds!" He needed to be able to go as quickly as possible and to do that, he needed traction. Carefully, he began to wipe his feet against the tiled floor, trying to scrape away most of the lubricating jelly.

And slipped again, causing his foot to rub too hard against the floor.

SQUEAAWWWK! It was like fingernails on a blackboard.

~--~

That was loud and close, Emerald realized, immediately on full alert. She searched the darkness and listened hard. She almost missed it - almost missed HIM! It was just a small sound - a quiet rasp of air - the kind of sound she herself made during competitions just before she threw her best pose at the judges. He was gearing up to make his big play right now. She stepped into the corridor and just barely caught him - right by the waistband of his jockstrap - as he tried to race past her hiding place.

~--~

Riveted to the monitor in front of her, Solange finally relaxed. Once Emerald had her hands on him, it was all over for Walter. Oh, he tried to punch his way free, but with no real effect, thanks to the boxing gloves. Poor Walter was lifted off his feet and taken gently to the floor, held tightly in Emerald's signature 'She-Bear Hug.' Solange actually reached the end of the three minutes before she could count to ten for the capture, but in this case, that really didn't matter. Emerald would have won by either method.

"The WINNER!" Solange announced to the cheering of her guests. "And FIRST EVER Hall of Horrors Champion is Mistress Emerald!" Behind her, and throughout the ballroom the split screens merged into a single view. Two tall and powerfully-built male slaves (obvious for their uniforms - slave collars and matching jock straps) appeared on screen. They bowed to Emerald before reaching down to pick up a gasping Walter Evans, and lifting him up on to their shoulders, one at his head, the other at his feet.

"Take him to Play Room 2, slaves," Solange ordered into the microphone. This order was acknowledged by a simultaneous bow from both slaves that somehow did not in any way dislodge their burden.

Turning back to her audience, Solange smiled. "We'll have a short break for refreshments while Mr. Evans is taken to begin his challenge scene. That session will, by the way, be available for viewing on one of the four screens in the back of the ballroom if any of you would prefer to watch that as opposed to the next competition. In the meantime, my maintenance slaves will be resetting the traps and clearing away anything left in the Hall by our last two contestants. By the way, while the Mistresses who will oppose our last three contestants have been able to watch this contest, our remaining contestants have been kept in isolation and have not seen or heard any of this."

"That's not fair, Maitresse!" a laughing female voice chimed.

"No," Solange agreed, her own laugh bubbling beneath her words, "It is not, nor was it intended to be."

~-~

In Playroom 2, Walter Evans stood, backed against a ceiling-to-floor column as the two slaves cuffed his hands behind him and around the column. Emerald relaxed to one side, watching with her muscular arms crossed beneath her impressive surgically-enhanced, bosom. The slaves turned to her, expecting to be released, but she only shook her head. "Strip him," she ordered softly, "Completely."

From a nearby cabinet, she withdrew a 'plain brown package', holding it in her hands as the slaves pulled the jock, cup and hobble chain off her charge. When the pair came back to attention, she smiled. "That will be all. You may tell the Head Slave that I found your efforts entirely satisfactory. Please return to your holding area until you are summoned again."

When she turned back to face Evans, she saw his attention was entirely focused on the package she held in her hands. Carefully, so as to ensure he could see everything clearly, she began to remove the brown paper from the parcel. When he saw it contained, he groaned. "Mistress," he whispered, "I thought that would only be the result of safewording."

Smiling as she disassembled the clear plastic male chastity device, Emerald replied, "You thought wrong, then. If you satisfactorily complete my challenge, this will be removed and you will be free to participate fully in any other scene that suits your fancy."

With quick, sure movements, she quickly fitted the device to him and was locking the part holding his penis to the ring that encircled the base of his penis and underneath his scrotum. A small brass padlock ensured he could not be freed without the key.

"Are you ready to hear what I require in exchange for your freedom?" she asked, her voice soft and even. He nodded, his eyes wary. "You are to honor me by undertaking a quest. La Maitresse called it a scavenger hunt earlier, but to people like you and me, Mr. Evans, this will be like the quests of legend, when a knight served and honored his lady by undertaking and accomplishing great deeds in her name."

"Great deeds, Mistress? What. . . what do I have to do?"

"Why, you must seek out and obtain the Golden Dildo, then present it to La Maitresse, all before the clock chimes midnight."

"How do I find it? Where is it hidden?" Now, there was fear in his eyes, a certainty that he would not like the answers, but a need to know nonetheless.

"To answer your first question, it is in the ballroom - somewhere. Even I do not know its precise location for La Maitresse had already hidden it before I arrived. To find it, you must seek out those who will give you the clues that will lead you to the next person with a clue. They may choose simply to give you their clue, or they may ask a boon of you - their choice. If you want to win the prize, and more importantly, truly desire to please your Mistresses - both La Maitresse and myself - you will do what must needs be done to seek the prize."

"Out . . .there? In the BALLROOM??!? Like THIS? Mistress, I'm naked! I . . .I don't DO public play . . it. . .it's one of my limits! A HARD limit."

A sad look crossed Emerald's face. "I see. Well, I suppose that is why I have been given this, then," she said, as she put a necklace with a small key suspended from it about his neck. "That is your safe-code for the rest of the evening. It will unlock the locker in which you placed your clothing. Present that to the slave stationed at the coat check, and your clothing will be returned to you immediately. You will dress at the coat check and then be escorted to the downstairs foyer where my little gift," she pointed to the male chastity device locked onto his genitals, "Will be removed. You will, of course, forfeit your chance at the prize, and you will not be permitted to return here until Thanksgiving."

"I CAN'T do THAT!" he said, nearly in tears.

Shrugging, Emerald reached behind him, and released the cuffs holding him to the column. "Very well, I am a ethical Mistress. I do not abuse slaves by forcing them to violate their limits. When you leave this room, turn left and go to the end of the corridor. The last door on the right will take you directly down to the coat check area. You won't have to go anywhere near the ballroom and you will avoid having to face La Maitresse." She turned her back on him, as if to leave. At the door, she stopped, her eyes hard on his. "If, however, you are the submissive your Mistress believes you to be, one who honors her with his best efforts in her service, you should turn right and follow that hallway back down to the ball room. Seek out the Aphrodite's Roman Incarnation. Farewell, Mr. Evans. I wish you well in your choice."

~-~

Solange watched the interplay between the hard-bodied Domina and her recalcitrant slave closely, and felt her stomach fluttering with nerves. Was she right about Walter? Did he truly WANT this experience? Would this help him over what she was convinced was a false limit, or had she just driven him away?

Or worse, had she just sent him headlong into something he truly could not handle.

She couldn't think about this, she told herself! She had two extremely knowledgeable and intuitive women watching over and protecting her contestants for just this purpose. Hadn't she told them to pull the plug immediately if they had ANY concerns about the sub's emotional or mental state? Indeed she had, so she'd better let them do just that! In the meantime, it was time for her to get the second act of her little play under way.

~-~

  

  

  

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