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Competition Entry: Proud and Kinky

Author's Notes

"Kinkiness is another aspect of our humanity and our individual differences. What is disgusting and abhorrent to one person may be home and haven to another."

I knelt there, locked in pain, anticipation, and…hope…as she decided my fate.

I was naked, of course, and there were angry, red welts across my ass, back, thighs, tits, and cunt. Some of them oozed blood. They hurt badly…and I knew I had found something I desperately needed. Or rather, someone.

“So, you beg Me to be your Mistress, do you?” Her low, husky voice mocked. “Why should I take you over all the others, slut?”

I trembled, and said the first thing that came to mind. “I…I don’t deserve to be your slave, I know that, but I so desperately need it that I will do anything, anything at all to please you!”

She grimaced. “So what? They all say that.” She continued in a whiney, mocking voice, ‘Oh, Mistress, do anything You want to me, please, please, please!’”

She looked suddenly tired, even sad, then sighed and stood up. “You may go,” and started to turn away.

“You…you could…use me as a human sacrifice,” I said in desperation.

She stopped, and turned back. “Whatever do you mean, slut?”

I gulped, but at least I had caught Her attention.

“I…remember reading about the Olmecs of Mesoamerica. They used to tie virgins to a St. Andrews cross, paint them with female jaguar musk, then lead in male jaguars.”

I gulped. “The virgins were ripped to shreds by the cats while the worshippers watched.”

She looked at me, and I saw interest light Her eyes. “Go on.”

I swallowed. “They viewed the Jaguar as the God of the Night, and sought to appease the darkness with human sacrifices. My idea is to substitute sex for death. Instead of killing me, You…fuck me. Viciously. Cruelly. The audience would love that.

“And so would I.” My voice trailed off as I gazed at her hungrily.

She looked at me, surprised, then sat down again. “Is that what you think, child? That I am the God of the Night, and I fuck people to be cruel?”

I closed my eyes, and felt hope return. “Mistress…you are known in the Community as the Goddess of Darkness, the examplar of pain.” I swallowed again. “And pain calls to me.

"I will worship you…and sacrifice to you…if You will allow me.”

She crossed one immaculately clad leg over the other, straightened Her skirt, and I heard amusement in Her voice. “But you’re not a virgin, are you?”

“I’ve never been with a man, but…no…I’m not a virgin.”

“Then would you be an…adequate…sacrifice to Me?”

I dropped my gaze, heartbroken. “Probably not.”

She leaned forward and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at her. She gazed deeply into my eyes for what seemed like eternity, then sat back again, pensive.

Her reputation was well-earned: She really is the Goddess of Darkness, and pain pigs and deep submissives swarmed after her. I was just lucky She had had a cancellation, and had seen me at a Munch. It had given me a chance to be in Her presence.

Finally, She looked back at me, and smiled. “Very well. This is Tuesday. You have until Saturday night’s show at the Munch to find a way to prove yourself…adequate. Get in touch with my slave with the details. All.”

She waved me away. But there was a small smile there which hadn’t been there before.

I touched my forehead to the floor, then scrambled up, bowed from the waist, backed three paces, then turned and hurried out of the room before She changed Her mind.

There was a lot to do, and not much time to do it.

But I had my throbbing, aching body, and the stripes She had put on it, to inspire me.

And hope – sudden, unexpected hope!

~~~~~

He was just a slave, but he was Her slave, so looked at me with disdain, his voice dripping contempt.

“You want Mistress to dress up as a cat? What is this, a fucking Broadway musical?”

“No, She will become the Jaguar God, the Goddess of Night, come to take Her sacrifice. Yes, there will be costuming, but there will also be claws, and real blood. And She will fuck me in front of the entire audience. It will be a sensation, and bring Her even greater renown!”

I was trying to be enthusiastic, and didn't mention that I had secured the help of a make-up artist who had done CATS!

I handed him the scenario, the list of what was being provided, and Her part in it.

He glanced at it. “Very well, I’ll tell Her. But I don’t think much of it.” And he actually sniffed.

Asshole.

~~~~~

“You asshole! I told you to listen, not to offer your worthless opinions! There are so many insipid sluts who want Me to do all the work, and look at me with their placcid cow eyes! I finally find a submissive who wants to engage with Me, and you dump on her with your shit-for-brain notions!” She breathed hard, truly angry in a way hardly anyone ever saw.

“Well, fuck you, you conceited prick. No, better yet, don’t fuck you!

“Leave Me. You’ve outlived your usefulness!”

He blanched, but immediately got up and left.

~~~~~

Mistress and I were on the stage where we would be performing that night. She wasn't made up, but had the head, claws, and feeldoe I had secured for Her for that evening. We were walking through our actions and I was explaining the ritual that I had half-researched, and half-invented.

“I will be tied here, on on my back, on this horizontal St. Andrews cross, slightly elevated so the audience can see me, and with my arms and feet spread wide. One of the acolytes will come in and paint me with water-based dye…”

“No,” She interrupted. “They'll paint you with your own juices. We do want realism, now, don’t we, pet?” She smiled at me.

I stopped, mouth open, then slowly closed it. Certainly, I was wet enough just being in Her Presence. I could probably stretch it with some kind of musky perfume if necessary, so I nodded, “Y…yes, Mistress. But we should add some coloring so it not only smells right, but so the audience can see it.”

She nodded. “Go on.”

“You prowl around me, sniffing, then expose the feeldoe from your costume, showing it to the audience, then move up and fuck me. Does that make sense, Mistress?”

“Let’s try it.”

Again, I am caught off-guard, but can think of no way to refuse. I climb up onto the St. Andrews cross and grab on…until She walks over and calmly fastens the straps.

“Uh, I was only going to…”

“We’re going to do a full dress rehearsal, pet. After all, we need to know if we’re…compatible.”

She leans back to look at me. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

I slowly nod.

“Good. Now, hold still.”

And before long, I am tightly fastened to the cross, naked, legs apart, ready to be violated, very wet, and suddenly…eager.

She moves away, fits the jaguar head over Her head, like the actors of Lion King, puts Her hands into gloves with metal claws, and opens Her gown to reveal a feeldoe, already in place.

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It’s big. Much bigger than the one I had secured.

“Realism, pet,” She strokes the lubricated feeldoe. “Jaguars are the largest cats in the Americas, after all. And we have to give the crowd something to oohh and aahh over, don’t we?” She smiles, and there is something there that reaches deep inside me.

Plus, I have no choice. I want to belong to Her so badly I truly will do anything She wants – short of an actual sacrifice. I think.

She prowls around, sniffing at me…and I can tell She can actually smell my arousal. She smiles.

She practices using the metal claws, barely scraping them over my skin, raising major goosebumps. “Tonight, I’m going to draw real blood, pet. Not a lot, say about as much as if I whipped you, but enough to show. Perhaps, if the audience likes your performance tonight, I really will whip you. Would you like that, pet?”

My mouth dry, I close my eyes and whimper, “Please, Mistress…”

“I thought as much. Then, after mauling you, I’m going to mount you…like this.”

She quickly moves Her body over mine, grabs my shoulders, and works the lubricated feeldoe into my dripping cunt. It hurts as She forces Her way in without using Her hands, first pinching the folds of my cunt lips, and then having to seek out the correct entry angle, until She finally shoves it home.

I drop my head back and moan.

Then open my eyes, and see Her face in front of me. There is a dark, desperate hunger in Her eyes as She starts working Herself in and out of me, slowly at first, then harder and faster as She gets into it.

Finally, She is slamming into me, and it hurts every time…and I cry every time…and I crave it every time.

“I'm going to fuck you bad, bitch,” she snarls, “and you're going to love it! Aren't you?”

“Oh, God yes, please, Mistress, please just… OH, FUCK!”

She has pulled out of me before I can cum, and stepped away.

She shrugs Her gown closed, and says, “Let's not leave it all on the rehearsal room floor, shall we…pet?” She looks at me, swallows hard, then turns and walks away.

A stage hand hustles across to release me, and I tremble, wondering what just happened between us.

~~~~~

We are standing backstage in the wings. I’m naked and shivering and eager to get started.

She’s in Her costume, which is half fur and half make-up – and looks feral without even trying. Nervous energy is causing Her to pace back and forth. The jaguar head is fixed on top of Her own, Her claws are in place, hands covered by fabric, and Her feeldoe is hidden, ready to be exposed and used.

She looks at me, tense and anxious, and says, “Are you ready for Me, girl?”

I nod, terrified, breathless, hopeful for what She plans to do to me.

The drums begin, the costumed acolytes grab me, and start to drag me onto the stage. I fight, and scream, and beg, all play-acting, but I begin to feel real panic as well. This is our true test – and I worry whether I will pass, or be heartbroken yet again.

By the time they finally wrestle me down and strap me to the cross, spread-eagled, I've worked myself to the edge of real terror, and it is only my desperate desire to belong to Her that keeps me from crying out my safe word. My struggles on the cross are only partly acting as I pull and twist, struggling to get free.

One of the acolytes pulls a brush from a bucket, and dabs an aromatic orange-colored, viscous liquid on my tits, belly, between my thighs, and around my cunt. He finishes, and hurries from the stage as I thrash against my bonds.

The drums halt with a crash, and I freeze, my heart in my throat as She enters.

There are loud bird calls and jungle sounds as She prowls onstage. Her body is lithe, supple, and radiates menace. She stops and sniffs the air, then slowly, softly pads towards me, eying my naked form. She sidles around me, claws up, menacing.

She steps in, sniffing from my tits down to my crotch, then raises Her head, staring into my eyes. I see no humanity there, only a deep hunger.

She gives a low growl, amplified by Her mike, that sends chills up my spine. She reaches out with one paw, and scrapes it slowly across my left tit, drawing little rivulets of blood that run down my side, and slowly drip onto the stage. She sniffs at it, then growls again, louder, staring hungrily at me.

Then throws Her head back and yowls! She turns towards the audience, exposing Her feeldoe, but with Her body blocking my view. There are some gasps, and I shiver, wondering what they are seeing.

She growls again, then turns and slowly starts to move onto me. I twist and look down at Her cock.

It’s not as big as the one She used this afternoon, but it has bristles that stick straight out!

“You’re not the only one who can do research, My little slut,” She whispers to me. “Did you know that cats have hairy, prickly cocks? Bitches fight each other to have their cunts scraped raw in order to ovulate, embracing the pain. And now, you’re going to experience just that, because you are really just a bitch in heat…aren't you?”

I am transfixed at the sight of this…thing…She wants to shove into me, but realize how well she knows me. I do want this…badly. At that moment, I am a bitch in heat, and nothing more. I nod, and She smiles, and moves her prick down to the entry to my cunt.

“Now, scream for Me, bitch, scream loud so we can both enjoy it!”

And She shoves it hard into me.

It’s like an electric shock stabs through my cunt, and I do scream, to the point where I’m stripping the lining from my throat. I yank my bonds to the utmost, and strain my muscles in a desperate attempt to break free.

She scrapes Her way up into my vagina, and I can feel every prickle, like rough sandpaper being scraped inside of me.

She stops…then withdraws, and the pain convulses me again.

She picks up the pace, shoving into me then pulling out, faster and faster. I keep screaming, writhing beneath her, straining at my bonds…then am shocked to find that my heart is pounding ever-faster, and I’m on the verge of cumming!

And then I do. My body goes completely rigid as I feel wave after wave of my orgasm slam into me. It makes everything I’ve ever experienced before seem like a pale imitation. I am gasping, screaming, head thrown back, mouth stretched wide, my joints locked and body straining upward.

And something inside me is finally at peace.

Now She tilts her head up and yowls, arching Her back in triumph, allowing my ecstatic pain to carry Her to orgasm.

The two of us take each other higher and higher, feeding each other’s frenzy, until She collapses on my naked, bound form, exhausted – and the audience goes wild.

Finally, She lifts Her head, panting, looks into my eyes…then kisses me and smiles. “We’re going to have to take good care of you, pet. You are a diamond among pebbles.

“Would you like to belong to Me?”

Every part of my body screams with pain, and my cunt feels like it’s been fucked with a hot poker, but I nod and say, “Please, Mistress!”

I’ve found my home. And so has She.

 

 

 

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Written by JamesLlewellyn
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