Three Slaves for Three Sadists

                    THREE SLAVES FOR THREE SADISTS

 

                                              PART 6

 

The day after his six-hour torture session – well, seven if you count the hour I allowed Brownie to play with him in the Urine Room – Blondie could ordinarily have looked forward to a bit of a rest. Sadly, though, this was not the case as it was Shopping Day.

 

Shopping Day, which rolls around every Friday of each week, involves two slaves going to do the weekly shopping chore. They’re allowed to wear somewhat revealing clothes – tight-fitting T-shirts, tight-fitting shorts, which show their pouched “lunch boxes” and boat shoes. They’re allowed to call into the local Starbucks, have a coffee before driving a few more blocks to the supermarket and the shopping.

 

Since it’s a 20-minute drive to Starbucks and then more to the store, they’re usually away for about three hours. All of which means that the slave left alone in my mansion with three dommes has to endure a three-hour “triple flogging”.

 

It sounds awful, but in fact the slave can get quite a lot of pleasure from the ordeal, since I like to see the slut erect for much of the time, so there’s plenty of fellatio for the lucky bastard!

 

And this Friday – yeah, you guessed it, Brownie and Blackie were on shopping duty, which meant us three dommes would be giving Blondie a triple flogging!

 

As soon as the black boy and the white boy departed down the large driveway in front of the mansion in my new Bentley Continental GT, I signalled to Blondie: “Downstairs and into position outside the flogging chamber!”

 

The naked lad nodded, looking extremely cute with his blonde locks freshly washed and blow-dried. The marks from his tortures yesterday had all faded, and we girls had a fresh stretch of slave flesh to work on!

 

In my bedroom, I chose one of my favorite outfits for a flogging session. My breasts were pushed up a black satin, wet-look quarter-cup bra, my nipples red and erect as I had applied lipstick to them. I like it when the slave sucks me on lipsticked nipples!

 

On my hips I placed a matching black wet-look suspender belt, which held up my black seamed stockings. Black, high-heeled Christian Louboutin high heels completed my outfit.

 

Walking downstairs, I was joined by Nadine, wearing a red leather playsuit, which had cut outs for her big-nippled breasts and her shaved crotch. She wore black, knee-high boots.

 

When we arrived outside the flogging room, Jeanette was already there, looking down at the erect-pricked slave kneeling on the floor outside the door. His knees were wide and his hands were behind him, grasping his ankles. This forced his well-built young body back and displayed his finely-muscled pectorals, abs, thighs and – naturally – his seven-inch cock!

 

Jeanette was wearing one of those tiny, wet-look looking things that the West Coast manufacturer calls a “bikini”. In fact, it’s just three tiny strips of gleaming fabric which is so brief the sides of her areolae peep out in the cups, and the sides of her labia lips protrude from the little strip of material at her minge. She, too, wore knee-high boots for Blondie’s three hours’ fun and games.

 

“Right, slut,” I snapped at my young nephew, “open the door for us, we’re keen to get on with this!”

 

The naked boy rose and turned to open the door and allow his trio of tormentresses into the chamber.

 

“Get the flogging frame into the center of the room, boy,” I ordered the young slave, and he wheeled the apparatus to which he would be strapped in bondage, into the middle of the floor.

 

Jeanette and Nadine strapped his wrists into the upper corners of the frame, while I dealt to his ankles, and placed a rubber punishment pouch over his scrotum and tied it tautly down to the D-ring set in the middle of the bar fixed to the bottom of the frame’s vertical poles.

 

“Right,” I said, straightening up and addressing my partners in punishment, “Nadine you work on his back, Jeanette his front, while I flog that lovely little cock.”

 

My fellow dommes each selected multi-thonged floggers made from thin strips of velvet. They could be whipped hard onto his flesh and made a lovely “Whoooosh” sound as they made contact, but would not break his flesh or bruise it.

 

My penis flogger, though, was another story. The leather implement had a split at the punishment end and could, if struck hard enough, bruise the cock shaft.

 

Placing a small leather stool in front of the lad’s still erect prick, I sucked on it for a moment or two.

 

Nadine and Jeanette then commenced his flogging. Both used the whirling method, or propellor flogging, flashing the floggers onto his back and chest with a forehand stroke, then coming back with a backhand, a sort of twirling motion which soon was going at a lovely quick tempo on his taut skin.

 

I cupped his balls in their rubber punisher, and proceeded to flog his shaft. I started at his helmet, then moved down the shaft until the persuader was almost at his pubic bone. Then I re-traced the path, back up his cock to the knob.

 

This, of course, hurt and by the time I’d got back to his foreskin lips, Blondie was only semi-hard. So I had to fellate him back to hardness, an act which brought him pleasure as the mild pain of the dual back and front flogging was being inflicted by Nadine and Jeanette.

 

The lad endured this torture stoically, but Jeanette and Nadine soon decided it was time to increase the pressure!

 

Both walked to the whip rack and selected single-tailed lashes. These would sting much more than the velvet floggers, and also mark his naked flesh.

 

I looked up from my work on slut boy’s cock, and laughed at him. “Oooh, cunt face, looks like the ladies are going to up the pain factor, eh!”

 

The slave made no reply, but soon he was in very fine voice as the women resumed their flagellatory attack. This time, Nadine worked on his front, flogging his lovely, strong young thighs, while Jeanette placed stroke after stroke on the backs of his thighs.

 

During this twin attack, it was necessary for me to move away, in case of being struck by the floggers, but as I sat in my easy chair and watched the lad yelping out “Aaarghs” and “Mmmfffs” and “Oweees”, I could not help but finger my now very moist pussy.

 

As the women’s assault on the boy’s naked, straining flesh continued, I decided it was time I came!

 

“OK girls, let’s have him strapped over the whipping bench now,” I told them. “I want an orgasm and you can use the canes on his ass!”

 

We helped the whimpering, pain-scourged lad from his position of bondage, then made him push the flogging frame to one corner of the chamber, and then bring out the whipping bench – I think it’s so nice when the slave has to bring the implement on which he will be tortured to centerstage, it has a fitting sort of penance to it.

 

When Blondie had his next place of punishment set up, Nadine and Jeanette strapped him down securely on it, while I placed my easy chair directly in front of the leather-padded piece of furniture.

 

Draping my thighs across the arms, I pushed my pussy forwards slightly, and then sighed as I felt the young slut’s tongue work on my mons, then trace down between my aroused labia, flicker across my cunt and move on down to my anal whorl.

 

By the time he’d done that, the other two dominas were each armed with four-foot long canes, of supple, bendable bamboo. I looked on with pussy-dripping excitement as Nadine applied the first stroke on the boy’s buttocks.

 

To do this, she moved a few feet behind the naked target, then walking in a sort of sideways slide, she stepped up and slashed the cane, in her right hand, down across the boy’s backside.

 

He winced, I could feel that, but his mouth kept working away at my pulsating pussy.  Then Jeanette was on the way in. She had the cane in her left hand and made the same sort of advance as Nadine, sliding sideways before whipping the cane across his bum.

 

Now the boy’s mouth was away from my anus, had licked and loved my cunt lips a little, had flickered in the damp path between my labia lips, and was working on my clit.

 

I watched as Nadine seared her second stroke into his by-now flaming bottom, then, as Jeanette marched up to his cute buns for her second cut, I started to come on his mouth.

 

“My turn!” called Jeanette, as my cries of delight quietened, and I rose from the chair to be replaced by the 32-year-old, pert little blonde. Settling on the leather, Jeanette pulled the tiny little scrap of material from her minge, revealing a shaved pussy, except for a narrow little “landing strip” of fair hair on her Mount of Venus.

 

“Eat me, slave slut!” she hissed, and as the boy obeyed, I took the cane that Jeanette had been using and marched from behind my target until I was in range, then slashed his buttocks with my rod.

 

Nadine cracked stroke three onto his butt, then we interspersed our strokes until Jeanette with a roared “Clit me, cunt, clit me, I’m fuckin’ cummmmming!” erupted on his face.

 

The lad’s backside was now red-striped and criss-crossed with the evidence of the canes’ calling cards, but Nadine wasn’t going to be left out of the fun!

 

“Me now, slut,” said the leather playsuited dominatrix, as she took over from where Jeanette had enjoyed her session of cunnilingus with the teen.

 

Nadine handed the blonde her cane, and as Blondie ate the lovely black bird to her orgasm, Jeanette and I must have delivered another four cuts to his ass.

 

Finally, the caning-cunt-licking was over, and when Nadine pulled her crotch from the lad’s face I saw that tears of agony were streaming down his pretty cheeks.

 

As I bent to unstrap the boy from his position of pain, I whispered in his ear: “Time to get the shoes on, bitch!”

 

The lad gave a slight shudder, as he knew that this was the prelude to his “Pony prancing” punishment, one which I knew he hated!

 

“It’s time for the pony, girls,” I informed my two partners, and then we selected our buggy whips for this particular punishment.

 

The buggy whips are made of gloriously-stitched red leather, and if you place the handle of the whips on the ground, their tips would be about five feet from the floor.

 

The handle is made of stiff leather, like a golf club grip, but as the whip goes on, the leather gets slimmer and slimmer until, at the tip, it’s as narrow as a shoe lace. A fearful implement, indeed!

 

For this torture, the lad had to go to the shoe rack and select his shoes. Blondie’s were, of course, made of gleaming white leather, while Brownie’s were brown, obviously, and Blackie’s black.

 

Each shoe had a Cuban-style wedge heel and our slave trio had trained long and hard to be able to get around in them with a lovely, thigh and calf-straining, sexy walk. The practice sessions had been fun, carried out as they were under the rigors of the lash by three strict women!

 

When the boy had strapped his shoes on and minced out to the middle of the torture chamber, I snapped: “Assume the position!”

 

This means the slave has to clasp his hands behind his neck, with his fingers intertwined. Sometimes, we make him wear a slave collar, so we can put leather cuffs on his wrists and then hook them to the collar, but it’s not always necessary.

 

Then we line up to lay on the strokes of the buggy whips. Very often the Prancing Pony is a single domme punishment, but when it’s being performed as a triple torture, we usually go in order of seniority.

 

That means me first, then Mistress Jeanette and last, Mistress Nadine.

 

To start, I stand off to slave boy’s left side, and bring the buggy whip across his pert young buns. This is the signal for slave slut to lift his right foot until his thigh is parallel to the floor, and his foot is pointing prettily down, just like a prancing pony!

 

I then move around behind him, and standing off the slut’s right side, I bring the whip into contact with his ass again. This time it’s a signal for the slave to lower his right foot to the floor, and bring his left leg up, thigh parallel, remember, and left foot pointing down.

 

Then, in a triple prancing pony, Mistress Jeanette whips his buttocks and he puts his left foot down and his right up.

 

This is also a signal for me to walk in front of the slave, who is straining to stay upright, of course, and flick the tip of the buggy whip across his cock and balls. This, sometimes, makes him so edgy that he overbalances – there is, of course, a penalty for this, which I’ll come to later.

 

When Mistress Jeanette is off to his right, she whips him again and then it’s Mistress Nadine’s turn to start whipping his buttocks. When she has moved to his right, I’m on his left again, and Mistress Jeanette is tickling his crown jewels with her whip. Get the picture?

 

Now, I know this all sounds very simple, but believe me – or, rather, believe the slaves – it’s not. It can become extremely difficult for the slave to maintain his balance in the “Prancing pony” position, and when he does over-balance – and you can bet your bottom dollar, pardon the pun, that he will – then it’s penalty time.

 

When he topples over and has to place both feet on the floor, then the domme-in-charge calls out: “Present!”

 

This means he must bend over at the waist until his upper body is level with the floor – still with his hands clasped behind his neck, naturally.

 

Then the domme gives him three of the best. That’s if it’s a single domme doing the punishment. If it’s two dommes, then it’s six strokes. And, consequently, if it’s three dominas, then it’s nine strokes.

 

This is because an over-balancing by the slave is regarded as an insult to the domina supervising the punishment. And if it’s a triple-domme session well, an insult to one domina is an insult to all three, correct?

 

Well, this morning, slut boy managed to cope quite well, but on my third visit to his front I must have struck him in a particularly ticklish spot because his leg waved, and then he had to put it down to keep upright.

 

“Present!” I yelled, and the lovely slut bent over. Nadine gave him three cuts, then Jeanette, then me.

 

By the time we called it quits – oh, I dunno, after some 20 minutes of ass whipping, the cunt had over-balanced four times. So that’s 36 extra strokes, eh?

 

And by the time his pony punishment was over, tears were streaming down his pretty boy face. Fuck, I love it when he cries – still, like I said, I’m a sadist.

 

And sometimes, I guess, it’s a hard life, being a Prancing Pony!

 

 

To be continued.