The President walked off, what a glorious sight. She was tall, strong, walked erect, yet her back was covered in bruises. I don’t think I have ever seen something so sexy! I was so aroused, and wanda looked at me, and winked. As if to say. “lucky boy that you can enjoy yourself like that!”
And she was right, it was an extra ordinary display. Yet, when she returned I nearly gasped of the gorgeous view. She walked like a model, firm steps, holding the tray with drinks. Yet her full breasts moved in such a sensual way my cock did hurt, till deep inside of my body. And her beautiful legs, her belly, with her secret garden. It was pure pleasure, so beautiful. I must have moaned of pleasure, of you. Since Wanda looked at me.
“once you finished pouring my drink dear, we need to do something about that piece of male meat there. Take the flogger and beat the shit out of him, that will teach him! And stuff his mouth with all you can find.”
There was a wide smile on the Presidents face, this was a welcome distraction. She had been beaten up herself quite fierce, and now she needed to get rid of that sexual power. And what was there better to do than to mistreat me, abuse me. I was the reason she was in this position. When she walked towards me Iooked up. And saw the smile on her face, as she saw both admiration and fear in mine! There was nothing I could do to stop her, being bound and gagged. She started to use the flogger on my back, making her way from my neck till my ass. Slowly, taking her time. And getting into the mood, into the rhythm of a thorough and dedicated beating. I had no idea I coud take so much pain. After the first series the pain started to subside, lulled me into something I had never experienced before. It must have been the long day, the exciting night, my deep descent into submission. I was feeling numb, like a toy being used.
At some point it stopped, just stopped. I realised myelf I was sobbing, I heard the footsteps moving away. And then the words of Wanda, “I need a cane. Get me one”.
A few moments there was silence in the room, and then footsteps moving away again. I did not dare to look, I was scared. Somehow this beating had shown me more of the nature of Wanda than anything that had happened before. She was going for the kill now! She was ready to make the next move. She had beaten me, without effort, it just took her some time and patience. And the next step, in one mighty blow, was to take control of the world of the President herself. A woman, mature in age, apparently wealthy and having a very successful career to be swept away by the force of nature that was Wanda!
The footsteps returned. Wanda thanking the President, offering her hand in order to get her out of the deep chair. And then suggesting she was to stand near the fireplace, as a matter of fact, I was on the floor, and she was standing over me. One foot to the left, the other to the right. She was to lean against the fireplace outer decoration. In this way she had us both in one place. It demonstrated the superiority of the President since she was standing over me. And the president did not need any bondage, no tying up. Of course!
Yet it also made clear she was in control of both of us. And showed her demands of putting us in place, as her slaves!
It was after distinct clicking of heels that the cane first made contact. Wanda must have put on her shoes again, wanting the sound dominate the empty space. The heels on the marble floor were like a mighty wave of sound, oppressing and forceful. And the distinct noise of the cane piercing the air was very impressive. The impact on the soft skin of the President was clearly to be heard, and a small moan that followed. All separated in time like three different actions, like not being connected in any way. But they were. The high pitched noise of the cane through the air became more distinctive, the flesh being hit more oppressive, the moan still suppressed but likely to break free soon. And Wanda took her time, she made a hit. Then let the impact die away, let her heels click as to keep everyone waiting in anticipation. And made herself ready for a new stroke. It was hard to describe what I felt, what I was going through. My own pain was still burning on my skin, yet I sensed this was much more intense. The President was not standing up against Wanda, but she was inviting her to use more force, to be more oppressive, to be stronger. And the two women played this game of power as if it was an innocent game. A game of children, a kind of truth or dare. Where the stakes were raised after every move of the other. If there would have been a whip Wanda would have taken that, used that to break that skin of the beautiful President. To show marks were blood would ooze from its cut. Was Wanda jealous of this beautiful body? Was that the reason she wanted to break it? I had no idea, just that I was witnessing a contest that still had two winners, had two opponents that were determined to play the game till the very end.
When Wanda let the cane drop it was like another lash, it sounded loud in the large room. And then there was silence. No one moved. When Wanda stepped closer towards the President her hand now touched the bruised bottom. Trailed along the darker lines, where her skin had been damaged more. The welds were growing still, the bruising was to develop it impressive colour. Wanda’s touch was light, and delicate. A slight moan, of surprise, from the President. Hardly audible, yet very distinct. Since it had this sexual desire in it. This “touch me more”. And Wanda happily obliged. Her hands now trailed together, over her ass, down to the back of her legs, fondling the glorious ass cheeks. And then through the ass crack, unharmed, higher up again. When she reached her neck the President let her head fall forward, showing the place where she would love to be touched. The long neck, delicate, soft white flesh. Yet Wanda had no intention to trail there. Maybe she did not like her victim purring like a cat. No, her hands trailed forward and took hold of her breasts. As she moved her body now closer. Dress touching soft skin, groin to ass. The hands had fingers too, and they found the nipples of the President. And as expected, they were very erect, very hard, very demanding for a strong touch. The pinching that Wanda provided was more than that!
The moan of the President was full of passion, full of desire. But by now I had started to understand how the beautiful mind of Wanda worked, she pushed the button, then let go and wait till her victim, her object of desire came crawling back, for more. For more of whatever she was giving, pain, pleasure, humiliation. And once back it was never more of the same, it was always twisted in another direction. Like spinning you round and round, until you simply had no idea anymore, no idea what to do, what to say, what to feel. No idea of how that burning desire within you was to be satisfied, to be controlled. And it went on like that until you were willing to give up anything, as long as you felt you were being taken care of. But you weren’t. You were being processed, you were being controlled. And without you noticing it. I now also saw how Wanda had managed to turn this into an art form without any restriction. I saw, and I was proud of that, I had been a play toy, to learn this beautiful craft. And I understood my desires were nothing to her. She wanted the main prize, she did not care for a scrap from a table, like I was. She cared for the main dish, no better. She wanted the cook herself. And that was the President. I saw how she struggled, how she tried to stay ahead of Wanda. I saw she wanted to gain back control, that she had given Wanda an opportunity, out of kindness maybe, out of affection. But all of that did not matter anymore. What mattered was just one item. Who is in control? Now she spoke those words, while having the President’s hair in a tight grip, tiling her head backwards. Wanda’s hand stroked the long neck, let her nails trail along that neck, inflicting more desire than pain. But obviously it wasn’t a gesture of kind love birds. The President was hold tightly, in pain.
“I ask again, who is in control my rich and famous Friend? Is it you?”
The silence was only broken by another cry of pain, of joy, of pleasure. Then finally the sob came
“It is You beloved Wanda, You are my Master. Take what is yours”
“I will, don’t need your permission for that. You long to be my slut. Ever since we met I have seen you looking at my young and strong body. You remember I told you about the fight I had with this little piece of slave that is kneeling at our feet. And I could see you got so excited about it. I could see that was exactly what you wanted. You have been surrounded too long by pleasers. You have been in control way too long, all wanting your attention. All wanting your approval. But when I see how wet you got from my little treatment I know you want something else. I know this is exactly the treatment you are longing for. And you know, there will come much more. But first we need to establish the real position of you. First I want you to show me that you really want this. Go and get toys, ropes, all you got. Since I am going to use them on you. I will use you so hard that your body will be broken after I am finished. And even then you will ache for more. Since I am your drug from now on. There is no way you can escape that. I am your addiction, I am what you long for. So hurry, don’t keep me waiting.”
And with these words she released the President, took her fingers out of her wet snatch. Since she had buried them there during that speech. A speech that was hissed, softly in the ear of the President. I could hardly hear it, and yet, it had given me a huge erection. God, this woman was so sexy. But I had better not been so excited, since she spotted me. And noted my pleasure.
Of course my balls were still drastically separated from my body, it hurt the more my cock grew into an erection. But that did not seem to matter. The scene that was presented to me was so hot and so enticing that I had no other way than to respond with my primal sense, my only basic male sense that was left for me. But Wanda was less amused, or she pretended to be like that. Did that matter? No surely not. Wanda was playing both of us, she was making grounds, for months she had been onto me and I did not give in. now in one mighty sweep she had defeated me and was awarded with a main prize, the President herself. So I was just here to let that happen.