Acting Dominant

by Tigger

©2008

Chapter 17: Much Ado About Something

 

Back in the ballroom, Solange caught sight of Isolde signaling to her from just inside the entry way that they were ready for the next pairing. She smilingly acknowledged the Valkyrie's signal with a wave, and then made her way back to her dais. Seeing her heading in that direction, all of La Maitresse' guests moved quickly to huddle around the nearest flat screen.

"Hear ye, hear ye," she called, waving her flogger-scepter in the air, "It is time for our THIRD contestant to enter the Hall of Horrors.

~--~

Walter tried to ignore the attention his nude, chastised state was drawing. He didn't succeed, not really, but he did try. He'd been searching for the entire time that last pair had been in that damned Horror place, and he still had no idea who the hell he was supposed to find. Was he supposed to ask everyone who wasn't naked if they were ready to scoot??!

He was just beginning to despair when a tall, Rubenesque woman in biker leathers and helmet walked by.

A Biker Babe, he thought, his eyes going wide. He checked her out more closely, and saw she was also wearing brightly shined, heavy-soled biker boots to go with her riding leathers - her 'suit.' Walter didn't think a real Biker Bitch would refer to her machine as a 'scooter', but it was worth asking, wasn't it?

He hurried over to the leather-clad woman and knelt before her. "Ma'am? Mistress? Are you. . umm, that is, are you ready for scooting?"

A knowing grin answered him, and he swallowed hard against the lump he felt growing in his throat. "I might be," she answered, in a surprisingly gruff voice. "But a clumsy server slave spilled egg nog on my boots, and I really think they need to be cleaned before I will be doing any scooting." She sat down on a nearby chair and raised the clunky boot near Walter's suddenly very dry mouth. "Or handing out any clues."

Closing his mind to the fact that his bare ass was currently mooning the majority of La Maitresse' guests and that he had never met this woman before, Walter bent over and began to lick away the sweet, creamy confection from the proffered toe.

~--~

For the third time that night, the guests watched as a contestant prepared to confront a Mistress in the dark of Solange's Hall. This time it was James Harris in the day-glo orange jockstrap, hobble-chain and boxing gloves, but it was the woman who captured everyone's attention.

Unlike many of her colleagues from the dungeon, this Domina had decided to use her costume to advertize her dominant specialities. Older and more experienced that many of her colleagues at the dungeon, Head Nurse Amanda actually was a Registered Nurse with a bachelor's degree in nursing. She had worked for fifteen years in that capacity when she had decided to make her avocation for teasing and tormenting men her vocation. Now, in her white lycra nurse's costume, nurse-hat, stockings and ice-pick white heels, she looked like she'd stepped out of one of Olivia De Beradinis' nurse pinups! She had the skills, the desire, and she was also drop-dead gorgeous to boot. For Amanda, working at the dungeon was a dream come true and the perfect job.

Due to her maturity, Amanda was sometimes called upon to play a 'Mother I'd Love to 'F' or MILF role (always as the 'F'-er, never as the 'F'-ee), but her primary dungeon specialties were the ones for which she had trained her entire life. Amanda provided a variety of medical play scenarios for her clients, but her favorite scenes emphasized water sports, play piercing, and cock and ball torture. She loved her new job so much she practiced her trade whenever she could find a willing playmate, and practice did make perfect. She could be as gentle or as . . . un-gentle as each individual case warranted. She could take a newbie to heaven or a hardened masochist to hell with equal ease and with complete safety.

And she was also Solange's best friend on staff at the dungeon - which was why she'd been asked to take this particular contest.

"Please note," Solange called the guest's attention back to herself, "the minor improvements we've made to our contestants' kit after Mistress Antinea's unanticipated success. The silver bands you see around the gloves and the buckles of the hobble chains are made of duct tape. The contestants will have to get that off before they can even hope to work on the knots. We think it will cost vital seconds to free enough of the knots, too."

There was a general sound of approval through the crowd. They weren't here to see the bloody contestants win! They wanted to see them have to deal with the consequences of losing - like that guy running around the ballroom buck naked, drinking out of baby bottles and licking biker boots!

Avidly, the guests watched the two contestants on the various monitors. Instead of going straight to her place before the victor's exit portal, Head Nurse Amanda sauntered, hips swinging, eyes smokey, over to where James Harris stood. "You ready, cutey?" she cooed before giving him a pecking kiss on his colorless cheeks. "I am. And you know what I get to do to YOU when I win this thing?"

The audience was vastly entertained by the look of stark terror on the man's face as Head Nurse Amanda pulled down his jock and gave him a quick hernia check. "Cough darling! she ordered. Blushing furiously, but having nowhere to run, James did as ordered. Smiling wickedly, she then pulled the jock back up, solicitously ensuring all the important parts were safely inside the hard plastic cup. "Well, good news, honey! You're in prime shape for what I've got planned just for you." She put her lips to his ear and whispered for several seconds.

The audience couldn't make out what she said, but they could tell by Harris' stunned reaction that it would be good! REALLY good! Then she gave him another kiss and strolled her way over to where she'd enter the game.

"Head Nurse Amanda! You may enter the Hall of Horrors!" Solange announced over the speaker system. Amanda grinned widely, waved and called out, "Don't keep me waiting too long, Jimmy," before disappearing inside.

"On the count of three, Mr Harris, you will enter the Hall and the clock will start!"

Every voice in the ballroom counted out "One, Two, Three!" and then, Harris tip-toed through the curtain, and into the darkness.

~--~

This was the critical one, Solange thought. This was the one that would make the final one work. She knew Victor Davis even if he wasn't her personal submissive - understood him on a very deep level. He was very much like her own little darling, and therefore he might, for very excellent reasons, back out at the very last second, accepting the forfeit. Probably just leave and not come back until Thanksgiving - if then - and that would be a double tragedy. Solange hoped that the outcome of this scene just might provide the impetus that might convince him not to back out.

~--~

The taste of leather-flavored egg-nog wasn't that bad, Walter thought, but he was grateful for the glass of sparkling water the Biker had gotten for him from the bar nonetheless. The Biker - she'd told him to call her just plain Bonny - had then told him that his next clue would be buried like a bone.

Buried like a bone? Dogs supposedly bury bones - his never had, but that wasn't the point, was it. Was he supposed to go out in the alley and look for overturned dirt??

WAIT! That domme who wanted to know the forfeit before she'd let her sub participate in the game. She'd dressed him like a dog, hadn't she!

Maybe the doggie slave would know!

~--~

The other revelers were now glued to the television screens, watching as Amanda made her way into the hall, moving with what appeared to be almost reckless haste. "Bet she wants to get him in her gynecological stirrups," a feminine voice offered. "Fill 'im up!" another voice answered, "'cause that one's sure to be a couple of quarts low!"

On the other half of the split screens, Harris was still tip-toeing his way down the corridor, using one gloved hand as a feeler guide along the wall. An angry shriek rent the silence, coming from the far down the corridor, and he flattened himself against the wall.

He was just about to start moving again when another, sharper yell had him back against the wall. "What was going on, anyway!?!" was clearly audible from the various television speakers throughout the ballroom

The audience knew. Both the web and the lubricant-slick floor had caught Head Nurse Amanda. She'd only gotten a glancing blow from the web, and had been able to shed it easily enough, even if she HAD screamed!

And she hadn't fallen on the slick spot, either, because unlike ShaJuana, she'd shed her heels on entering, so she'd had enough 'foot on the floor' to be able to slide but not fall.

"She looks really pissed," someone said.

Amanda headed for the last corner, determined to catch her prey when she remembered the light trap that had caught Juana. She tried to stop, but she hadn't cleaned all the lubricant residue from her feet and went sliding into the trip wire.

The system operator was prepared this time, and had already switched to a camera that was outside the dazzle zone. Amanda could not do that.

~--~

The light at the end of the corridor surprised James, for like the other contestants, he hadn't seen the videos of the other players in the Hall and so he didn't know about the traps. Then Amanda came staggering into his hall, her arms trying to shield her face from the light.

Amanda terrified Harris. Pins through his nipples, enemas, catheters, weights dangling from his balls? How the hell could any of that be pleasurable? It HAD to hurt! No way did he want to have anything to do with any session THAT woman had planned, and certainly not what she planned as a challenging session!

He watched her continue to stagger, moving her hands about as if looking for something to hold on to. OMIGOD, she can't see! he thought to himself.

"90 Seconds - there are 90 Seconds left!"

For just an instant, James thought about trying to take her down and capture her. For all she scared him spitless, she was beautiful and she couldn't see him. . .

No, he thought again. If he got close enough to grab her, she was close enough to grab him. Even blind. And Maitresse had said it was a ten count, not ten seconds. How fast would she count to ten if somehow the nurse managed to land on top of him?

With that, he took off down the hall, dropping to all fours as he skittered by the still dazzled nurse. He turned the corner and used the reflected light from the light trap to guide him to the final turn just as Solange announced, "There is ONE MINUTE left - One minute!"

He did slip on the KY-Jelly patch, and tripped over and got tangled in the discarded sticky web, but he could see the crack of light ahead of him that meant escape. Standing up, he hopped madly towards that splinter of light as the voice of La Maitresse began the final countdown, "10. . .9. . ."

He broke through the curtain and fell flat on his face as she hit "3."

~--~

Solange turned to face the disappointed audience. "Well, that's a winner," she said, her voice sullen. "Guess we don't get to see Nurse Amanda working tonight.

On the screen, the two slaves arrived and started to help him to his feet. "Go in there - over on that side," he directed towards the entrance portal. "Nurse Amanda may be hurt. I'm fine. Just need. . .to catch my breath and get out of this damned web!"

~--~

"If you want Muffy to show you where he buried his doggie bones, you're gonna have to be nice and rub his belly for him," Muffy's Mistress told Walter. Muffy, for his part, had rolled on his back with one leg in the air and his tongue lolling from his head.

Walter went white for just a second, and nearly bolted, but something stopped him. "Ummm, JUST his belly?" he asked, very cautiously, his eyes fixated on Muffy's unrestrained boy-bits.

"Yes, of course, what did you think I meant?" she snapped.

He rubbed the guy's belly and was so glad that was all he had to do, that he nearly forgot to be embarrassed.

~--~

Everyone was glad that Amanda wasn't really hurt, but unhappy to have missed seeing her work James in her planned challenge scene. Not so unhappy, however, that anyone accepted her request for a volunteer to take James' place in her planned session. She still had her reputation, after all. None of the males in attendance were her usual clients, and the Mistresses with escorts had plans for their boy-toys that night that might be difficult if Amanda wrung her guy out like an old dishrag.

Only Solange was really pleased. Amanda had come through for her - had taken one for the team so that the next play would have a better chance of success. It was time, she thought, for the final setup. She reached over onto the dais table, and flipped a tiny switch. The operator saw her signal, and blanked all the screens.

"Oh, My - looks like we've had some kind of glitch with the video system. We'll have it fixed soon. Why don't you all get some refreshment and I'll call you back as soon as we're ready again." With that, she strode from the room, heading for the stairs.

But instead of going to the surveillance room to check on the system, she headed for the Hall of Horrors . . .

~-~

Mistress Antinea used the remote to mute the room's television before turning her back to it. Languidly, she looked her trophy over with equal parts satisfaction and anticipation. While she had never quite believed that she would actually win their little contest in the dark - ShaJuana was incredibly fit and strong, and could easily have overcome Tina's advantages had she just been the tiniest bit less aggressive, she had still planned her victory celebration very carefully indeed.

Man, oh man, she thought grinning, she had longed for this opportunity for what seemed like FOREVER!

Antinea gave a quiet laugh at her own hyperbole. It certainly hadn't been forever, but there sure had been a great many long, lonely nights. Nor had it been quite THIS opportunity for which she'd been longing. Heck, until very recently, she had not thought something like this might be possible or even pleasurable.

And finally, she knew, deep in the part of her mind she usually kept hidden even from herself while in character, that it had not been a 'she' who had been longing for this incredibly beautiful woman, although that fact mattered less and less to her as time went on.

This playroom was decorated in what might best be described as 'Middle Age Gothic Post-Modern Dungeon.' The walls had been carefully textured and painted to have the look and feel of hewn stone. Torchieres, engineered to simulate burning wood torches, provided the chamber's only light, although their uneven, flickering red glow shadowed more than illuminated this Torquemada's realm of chains, shackles and 'torture' devices.

Suddenly, in response to Antinea pressing another button on her remote control, a single spotlight enveloped her 'guest' in and intense, white cone of light. The harsh bright light gave shadowy emphasis to every muscle, every curve; to all the straining, glistening ebony perfection that was ShaJuana Price in all her naked glory.

Getting her out of that catsuit had been fun, Tina mused happily. Cutting it off her while Juana had sputtered and cursed, before tossing the bits off to a far corner of the room. Even if she had to pay to replace it, Tina thought, that unveiling had been worth every penny!

Juana had been bound like this since Solange's two slaves had left the playroom. Solange had assured Tina that an extended period in such bondage would not pose any physical problem for a big, powerful, well-conditioned woman like ShaJuana. The angle formed by her legs was not so severe that she couldn't keep her feet flat on the room's stone floor, and Antinea had thoughtfully provided her with a saddle-like stool to take a good deal of the strain off ShaJuana's limbs. Still, the position was sufficiently strict that the sleek, powerful muscles of those incredible long legs and firm arms stood out vividly under the harsh glow of the spotlight.

"God, Juana, you are SO gorgeous!"

~--~

The bone had been 'buried' beneath cushion of the chair Muffy's Mistress had favored. It had been made of two pieces, designed to come apart when twisted at the ends. Inside had been the next clue.

"It is time you were taught how to measure up to the highest expectations of a Learned Mistress."

Handing the bone back to Muffy (who took it in his mouth) and giving him a friendly scratch behind his ears, Walter wandered off, wondering just who he needed to find to teach him that.

~--~

"Everything ready?" Solange asked Betina.

"I'd say so. Isolde will bring him up when you knock on the prep room door, and then we'll just see how he does, won't we?"

Solange had selected Betina as Victor's opponent Mistress for two reasons. The first was that he had subbed to her on several earlier occasions and trusted her. More importantly, Victor knew that Betina's primary role at the dungeon was gently exploring a newbie's fantasies during those first terrifying visits to a house of female domination. He wouldn't be - shouldn't be - in anyway frightened by anything she might be expected to propose for a challenge scene.

"You're going to let him come to you, right?" Solange asked.

'Natasha Fatale' shrugged her starkly white shoulders. "As we agreed, dollink." Then she became serious. "Only way I'm going after him is if it looks like he's going to pull the plug before we get a chance to finish this thing. You're going to have to key me using the loud-speaker - again as we agreed. If you say 'Get Moose and Squirrel' over the loud speakers, I'll know you've decided we need to go get him."

"I'm hoping that won't be necessary."

"Me, too. He's such a sweety, you know? Well, we'll just do what we have to do to make this one work out, okay?"

It wasn't, but it was all she had at this point. "I better go down and let everyone know the system is partially down."

"Yeah," the Goth Mistress agreed, grinning. "Some things the masses just don't need to know, right?"

"Right. See you later, Bets, and good luck," Solange added, and then headed down to signal Isolde to escort the last player to the Hall.

~--~

'Teach' and 'Learned' had to be, Walter thought, the operative words as he scurried up to the stern, Victorian school mistress he'd seen earlier. He glanced up at the clock on the back wall of the ballroom. How the hell had it gotten to be 11:15??!?

"Excuse me, HeadMistress," Walter asked, "but do you have a clue to aid my quest?"

Marie, Headmistress of the dungeon's 'school room' looked the quivering man over with a gimlet eye. She had a choice to make at this point, and wanted to make the correct one, or at least, the best possible one.

Marie had actually been a licensed teacher in the city's public schools for several years before burning out and looking for another way to make her living. When she'd discovered in herself both a taste and an aptitude for games of sexual dominance, she'd married those tastes and aptitudes with the training, skills and dreams that had initially pulled a very young, idealistic and nurturing woman into the teaching profession. In her mind, she still was a teacher. The lessons she taught were certainly different, the clients were a good deal older and the methods she used were very different - but her clients always learned something during one of her sessions. She INSISTED on that, and held very high expectations for her little darlings. It was, she often mused, just too bad that her current 'motivational' tools had been denied her when she'd taught 9th Grade pre-algebra in the public schools. She might have finally gotten to the seat of the students' problems with paying attention and doing their work.

Marie's practiced eye could see that Walter was starting to fray about the edges. The toll taken on his emotional reserves to this point was clear in both his body language and facial expressions. She made her decision, signaling him to proceed her with a wave of her yardstick.

"Very well, student, I think it is time for you to sit your exams. Come with me!" she ordered, and led the way to the small area off the dais.

~-~

  

  

  

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