I saw her boots first when she removed my blindfold. Those long, shiny, black, leather boots. They reached all the way to her slender thighs.

I was on my knees, with my face on the floor, not allowed to move or lookup. When I was blindfolded, she had undressed me and put me in some form of leather clothing. Now, I could see what it was. It was a red, leather straitjacket. So, that’s how she tied my arms on the front, I thought to myself. It had a cut on the front, exposing my chest. My lower body though, it was completely naked.

“If only you could look up and see what I have in store for you,” she said.

I got butterflies in my stomach. I felt excitement and anxiousness pour into my body, making me shiver in anticipation.

She put my blindfold back on again. I felt her hand around the back of my neck, pushing hard and pulling me back on my feet. She moved me forward for a couple of steps before stopping. She undid the jacket and raised my hands up in the air.

“Hold them like that, boy,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied.

I felt handcuffs around my wrists. I didn’t know where they came from, until later when she removed my blindfold and I noticed them hanging from chains attached to the ceiling. She also separated my legs and cuffed my ankles to the floor. I felt her hands running on the curve of my ass, caressing it gently.

“You’re the best birthday gift Mary could’ve given me,” she said with a lustful voice.

Mary, my mistress and girlfriend of two years, had decided to give me to her as a “gift” for her birthday. We had talked extensively about my limits and code reds beforehand. Now, she was claiming her gift.

She was beautiful, not as good as my Mistress, but still pretty good. She was as tall as me. Her short dark hair revealed a silver, circular earring. Her dark narrow, dark eyes had looked down on me every time we had made eye contact. Her wider jawline and fuller lips gave her a more masculine look, yet there was an aura of femininity about her.

I let out a moan when I felt a hard slap on my ass. “Can you count, boy?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Who’s your mistress?”

“Mistress Mary.”

“You’re a loyal dog, aren’t you?” she said with a snarky tone.

“Very.”

“Good. Maybe Mary and I will double team you.” She grabbed me from behind. I felt her bare breasts pressing against my back. Her “surprise” was a strap-on that rubbed against my ass; it felt like the same size as the one Mistress Mary usually uses on me. “After all,” she whispered in my ear, “you can take us both, can’t you? Don’t be shy; Mary has told me all about the things you do for her. You’re the most degenerate whore I’ve ever had the pleasure of breaking.”

I swallowed hard as my mind raced. I had talked to her about the general stuff I’m into, but there were a lot of things she didn’t know about. Had Mistress Mary told her about other things?

“Yes,” she replied as if she had read my mind, “She has told me all about your kinks. Now, tell me, slut. Can you count?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said with a shaky voice. My confidence was starting to fade, and she knew it.

“Good,” she reached forward and grabbed my balls, “That’s very good. Mary has told me your limit is 20; we’ll go with 15, since I’m feeling generous today.”

I heard her footsteps as she walked away. A few moments of silence, then I heard her approach me. I felt the tip of the cane press against my balls, followed by a “Ready, whore?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. You know the rules. Loud and clear, or it doesn’t count.”

The first hit wasn’t all that hard, yet it sent chills through my body and a sharp pain through my stomach.

“One,” I said, “Also, fibreglass.”

“What…?”

“The cane, it’s fibreglass.”

“You can tell by just getting hit and not seeing it? God… You are a whore.”

The second hit was much harder than the first one, “Now, tell me, whore. Do you like it when I abuse your balls?”

“I do, ma’am.”

“Didn’t hear a number!” The third hit was just as hard.

“Three!”

“Wrong, bitch!” she hit again, “the second one doesn’t count, since I didn’t hear a number.”

By the time we reached 15, I was hanging from my cuffs, barely standing on my feet. She was almost as vicious as Mistress Mary. Sure, she was cruel, merciless, and ruthless, but Mistress Mary was different. She knew how to break a man with just a look.  She knew how to own her submissive.