Chapter 7 - Discipline
Maria stood, nude, on display on a small platform in the centre of the
room, wearing only a pair of black high heels with ankle straps and a bright red
ball gag. Her wrists were bound together overhead, tethered via a short rope to
a ringbolt set in the high ceiling. She had enough slack to let her dance around
a bit, jiggling the goodies for everyone's entertainment, but not enough to
lower her arms much, certainly not enough to attempt to cover herself. Achmed
and other friends of the Sheik sat comfortably in their robes on silk pillows,
inhaling with dignity on hookahs. It was a scene of sybaritic splendour.
Surrounded by expensive tapestries, their eyes were enchanted by a profusion of
flowers and exotic plants. The susurrus of small trickles and the soft swish of
colourful cascades of water from many fountains massaged their ears. Each
fountain was lit to produce a miniature rainbow in the spray. In a desert
country, the features of an oasis are the very hallmarks of wealth.
Sheik Rashid believed that some things required a woman's touch, which is
why Mistress Marisa was his Meatmaster. Dressed in a black leather pantsuit with
spike heeled boots, Mistress Marisa was every inch the dominatrix. Her cold blue
eyes chilled the most defiant captive. Her haughty face with it's high
cheekbones had obviously never expressed pity or sympathy. Tall, blond and
Austrian, in a previous generation she would definitely have been part of the
Master Race. Mistress Marisa ran a tight ship. She led the first Filipina in.
Isabelita Siasson (Isabel to her intimates, which these days included almost
everyone she met) was wearing an oversize football jersey, white knee socks and
black penny loafers - dressed like a co-ed wearing her boyfriend's jersey. The
diminutive Filipinos, with their perfect doll-like figures, made exquisite
fantasy females, combining extremely youthful good looks with an older woman's
maturity.
A narrow runway led from an entranceway covered by a curtain to the stage
in the centre of the room. Isabel sauntered sexily down the runway and stood
next to Maria. She stared out fearfully at the sea of hawk-nosed faces. With a
true Teutonic love of logic, Mistress Marisa was a strong believer in the
Socratic method, leading a confused and perhaps reluctant pupil to an inevitable
conclusion through a skilful set of leading questions.
"All of you Filipinos chatter to one another, so I'm assuming that you
knew what Maria was planning to do?"
Isabel nodded. Denial would simply dig her deeper into the shitpit.
"Yes, Mistress!"
"Yet you told no one?"
"No, Mistress."
To try and mitigate the inevitable firestorm, lovely Isabel grovelled as
prettily as she knew how.
"I'm very sorry, Mistress. I realise that it was very wrong of me."
Mistress Marisa proceeded relentlessly with her exercise in public
humiliation. The audience watched silently, eyes glittering. They loved watching
Marisa sweat the babes.
"Did you try and talk Maria out of it?"
Next to her, poor naked Maria nodded emphatically, trying to make things
easier for her friend.
"Yes, Mistress, but she wouldn't listen."
"And yet you didn't inform me or anyone else of her proposed flight?"
Mistress Marisa detected a small iota of resistance in her response.
"We are friends. I could not betray her."
Mistress Marisa decided to drive a wedge into this Damon-and-Pythias-like
relationship.
"You do understand that Maria betrayed your friendship by fleeing and
leaving you behind to be punished, don't you?"
From the look on Isabel's face, it seemed that this aspect hadn't
occurred to her. Marissa rammed the point home.
"If she made this escape attempt, your punishment was guaranteed whether
she succeeded or failed. So, by making it, wasn't she condemning you to certain
punishment?"
Maria looked deeply distressed at this view of her behaviour. Marisa's
cold blue eyes glittered in triumph as a small hint of resentment blossomed on
Isabel's face.
"I, uh, guess so."
"Don't you think that it was very selfish of her to try a foolish, doomed
escape attempt, callously leaving you to your fate?"
Maria emitted a small, despairing moan as Isabel nodded agreement.
"Yes, it was."
Mistress Marisa adopted the warm tone of a mother rebuking a well-loved,
but wayward, child. To those that knew her, this was always bad news. The
watching Arabs nudged each other knowingly. Marisa spoke softly, gently, a
deadly adder injecting a few more drops of venom into a paralysed and helpless
victim.
"You too are at fault, Isabel. Maria betrayed you and is unworthy of your
support. Merely to defend yourself against such a selfish person, you should
have reported this to me at once. You could have avoided punishment altogether!"
Marisa gestured to include the audience.
"We are not stupid. Maria was sure to be caught as indeed she WAS caught,
dragging you down with her. Don't you agree that you could have avoided this
altogether, if you'd just been a tiny bit smarter? If only you had been a better
judge of Maria's self-centred character, all this could have been avoided, don't
you think?"
Isabel bit her lip in vexation. The logic was inescapable.
"That's very true, Mistress."
"Do you really think that escape is even possible? Alone, far from home,
in a foreign country where you don't speak the language, where you stick out so
prominently?"
Isabel was devastated, any foolish hopes she may have entertained were
shattered completely. Feeling betrayed, isolated, hopeless and helpless,
Mistress Marisa's venomous words ate into her very soul. Her downcast voice
reflected her despair.
"No, it's not possible to escape, Mistress. Maria didn't even get to the
embassy."
Mistress Marisa was brisk.
"Take off your top and show the gentlemen what you have to offer."
Isabel had a lot to put at the disposal of an experienced pervert: full,
firm breasts, shapely legs, smooth belly, pretty face, tight buns and a mind
whirling in confusion and despair - a perfect package. Mistress Marisa proceeded
with her Socratic exercise.
"You realise that Maria's selfishness, combined with your own
foolishness, make it necessary to punish you?"
Isabel replied despondently, a catch in her voice, her gentle brown eyes
glistening with tears.
"Yes, Mistress."
"I want you to embrace your former friend and put your mouth next to her
ear so that treacherous Maria can hear your every cry and whimper clearly.
Perhaps she will learn something from the misery she has caused you."
Isabel hugged Maria close. Since they were much the same height, they
stood nipple-to-nipple, belly-to-belly, thigh-to-thigh, pubic hairs touching.
Maria could feel Isabel trembling in fear, her soft pants of breath brushing
gently against her sensitive ear lobe.
"Spread your legs, Isabel."
Isabel spread them. Mistress Marisa held up an eight-inch rod with
alternating bands of copper and black insulation, set in a long, thick handle.
"Do you know what this is, Isabel?"
Maria felt Isabel's bare body shudder against hers.
"Yes, Mistress! It's the Cue Stick. If I forget something important, it
serves as a valuable cue to remind me."
The watching Arabs chortled with delight. Isabel watched fearfully as
Marisa lubricated the tip.
"Do you remember where it goes?"
"It's something I can never forget!"
Mistress Marisa rested the Cue Stick against Isabel's wrinkled brown
rectum. Isabel began to cry softly in Maria's ear. She gasped and whimpered;
sniffing and snivelling softly, as Marisa slowly began worming it into her back
passage. Maria could feel Isabel's nipples hardening with fear as the Cue Stick
was slowly, lovingly inserted.
"The copper bands alternate as positive and negative poles connected to
the batteries. When I press the button, I want you to do me a little favour,
Isabel."
"What's that, Mistress?"
"I want you to scream 'thank you, Maria' into Maria's ear."
"Yes, Ma'am."
Screaming was easy. Remembering what to say proved more difficult. Maria
stiffened violently as Isabel's naked body shuddered against hers. She felt like
her eardrum was being blasted out the other side of her head by Isabel's
piercing shriek of raw pain.
Mistress Marisa was always patient with the slow learners.
"You forgot to thank Maria, Isabel. I'll give you a few moments to catch
your breath and then we'll try again."
Everybody watched Isabel shiver and shake with fear, the Cue Stick up her
ass, wagging like an obscene tail. Maria could feel Isabel's warm body pressed
tightly against her, quivering like an aspen.
After everybody had enjoyed this delightful tableau for a few moments, it
was back to business. Isabel's buttocks clamped hard around the intrusive anal
electrode, quivering with the current, as the Cue Stick hummed its evil tune a
second time.
"THANK YOU, MARIAAAAAAhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Her raw primal scream echoed through the room. Pale and shaking, Maria
looked like she was going into shock. Mistress Marisa slowly withdrew the Cue
Stick and wiped it off. She patted a sobbing Isabel on a sweaty buttock as a bit
of positive re-enforcement.
"Very good, Isabel. I knew you could do it!"
Mistress Marisa picked up a fan of long peacock feathers attached to a
leather belt.
"Enough fun! Time to get back to your duties, Isabel. Let's get you into
your peacock-girl serving outfit."
The belt went around her slim waist with the large peacock fan spread
behind her. Mistress Marissa adjusted the headpiece, which featured a smaller
fan of miniature peacock feathers atop her head like a miniature crown.
"Now for the crotch strap."
Two large dildoes connected to a slim belt were greased up. Isabel went
up on tiptoe as the large ribbed dildo was jammed vigorously into her tight
fuckhole. The anal dildo had a bulbous rubber tip. It was forced into her aching
shit-hole with difficulty. Mistress Marisa attached a hand pump to a metal
nipple at the back of the dildo and inflated the bulbous rubber tip to anchor it
firmly in Isabel's bowels. Everyone watched Isabel carefully as she did so,
enjoying the expressions of distress flitting across the young beauty's pretty
face, savouring her pathetic small whimpers. Her blood pressure high, a large
red dot appeared on either cheek of her sweating visage as she struggled to
accept the ever-expanding anal intruder.
At last, Mistress Marisa judged that Isabel was going to be thinking
about it with every twitch of her hips for the rest of the night. The crotch
strap was fastened to the belt at her waist and cinched tight.
"Very good, Isabel. Now for the serving tray!"
A large, silver serving tray was hooked onto the front of the belt at her
waist. Two thin straps dangled from the outer edges of the tray. Each ended in a
nipple clamp to help hold up the tray. Isabel groaned as Mistress Marisa screwed
each of the small clamps brutally tight, pinching her teats viciously,
stretching her tits obscenely.
Marisa slapped the serving wench playfully on the rump.
"Go to the kitchen and get loaded up."
"Yes, Mistress!"
At a leisurely pace, for the rest of the evening, each of Maria's
Filipino friends was trotted out in a fetching outfit and persuaded that Maria
had betrayed her. In succession, dressed as a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader, a
French maid, a prim businesswoman and an elegant socialite in a slinky black
ball gown, each stripped for the audience. Each clasped Maria's naked body in an
obscene embrace, had the Cue Stick rammed up her asshole and screamed her
gratitude into Maria's ear. Each then donned her peacock-girl costume, suffered
through the insertion of both huge dildoes, sweated through the inflation of the
anal dildo and had her tits screwed to the support straps for the engraved
silver serving tray.
They then spent the rest of the evening serving goodies to men whose idea
of entertainment was leaning on their serving trays and seeing how far their
tits could stretch.
After this delightful routine had been repeated five times, Maria was a
complete basket case. Ashen faced and shaking badly, she could hardly move as
Mistress Marisa considerately helped her off the stage, remarking that she
wouldn't want anything bad to happen to her personal pet. She'd been a naughty
little girl trying to run away, but mama understood that her petsy-wetsy
wouldn't do it again. The peacock-girls, rectums burning, cunts opened wide and
penetrated deep, stretched nipples aching, were totally outraged at this blatant
favouritism.
The men grinned. Maria the troublemaker had been neutralized completely.
