She eyes her naked form critically in the lighted full_length mirror. Her hands move slowly up her stomach, feeling the taut muscles, then up to cup each heavy breast, fingertips gently teasing her nipples erect. She hears the soft intake of breath from her slave behind her as he watches in the mirror.

"Mistress...you are beautiful" he whispers reverently.

She smiles slightly and moves her hands up to intertwine through her long red hair...lifting her hair up high over her head, cascading it down through her restless hands, watching it shine in the low lights.

"The Kasmir, tonight, my treasure" she says, her hands dropping down to run along the backs of her hips, brushing along the rounded contours of her ass, pulling her cheeks apart slightly as she strokes.

"Yes Mistress."

He moves quietly to the low black marble vanity top as she watches, searching through the creams and perfumes scattered there, until he finds her request. His hands tremble slightly as he dabs some of the cream onto his fingers...fingers that yearn for the touch of her skin.

She smiles again as she sees him bend over the table, the fine strong muscles of his back bunching and coiling as he moves. She knows how much he loves to smooth the scented creams all over her body...his reward for perfect obedience all day. Her nipples stiffen as he turns to face her, betraying her own excitement at the thought of his touch. The woman's arms open to her slave, motioning for him to approach.

He moves into her embrace and wraps his arms around her, massaging the cream languorously along her back, his slow strokes matching the rhythm of his lips as he kisses lightly up her neck. Her hips sway as his hands drop down to caress her ass, bringing her body forward to press his heavy cock against her stomach. He groans softly, lips vibrating against her skin, when she pushes herself against his stiffness...he's been hard almost the entire day and he aches for release.

He shifts slightly and steps back, fearing to maintain the contact between his cock and her skin. Smoothing more of the cream into his hands, he starts at her fingertips and runs his hands slowly up her arms, meeting at her collarbone, then falling along her chest to encircle her breasts. He dips his head to suck on each tender nipple as his fingers run lightly down her stomach and rest on her soft hairs below.

"Taste me" she murmurs, as her hands twist in his hair, pulling sharply at the roots.

He drops to his knees before her, pressing his lips against her mound. His hands continue down her legs, massaging the cream into her tensed thighs, her calves, while his tongue probes between her lips.

As the insistent touch of his tongue runs up to circle her clit, her hands press his face forward, grinding him against her wetness. His hands reach up to knead her ass, spreading her cheeks to slowly rub the tip of one finger across her puckered hole. A long sigh escapes her lips as she presses down on his shoulders with her hands, forcing him to slowly lie on his back as she follows him down to the soft carpet.

The woman twists to present her ass to his face before she settles onto him, stretching out along the flat muscles of his stomach, then pushing back and opening herself as she spreads her legs on either side of his head. The deft touch of his fingers opens her lips as his tongue runs back from her clit to her ass. She moans and whips her head down when her slave's tongue pushes into her ass, stabbing her as his fingers work her clit.

The man's hips jerk and then twist as he feels the touch of her hair on his engorged cock. He cries out, sharply, muffling the sound against her smooth ass when the tendrils of her hair move again, dragging along the shaft of his cock. His heart slams against his chest as he desperately tries to master his throbbing cock...he knows he has to make his Mistress come soon or the soft, maddening touch of her hair will make him lose all control. He can't even bear to wonder what his punishment would be if he ejaculated in her hair.

He increases the pressure of his tongue, his fingers teasing her reddened clit as he feels her deeper motions that mean she is ready to come. He moans uncontrollably as her thrashing head whips her hair against his cock...his cock that she has kept hard all day long...bringing him to the edge of orgasm so many times he has lost count. His moans of relief mingle with her cries of passion as he finally feels the beginning of her orgasm.

The woman cries out and slams herself back on her slave's stiffened tongue, opening her ass as his fingers rip the orgasm from deep within her. Her entire body shakes as she bends back to grind her hips into his face, seeking the last lingering feel of his tongue. Eyes closed she smiles as her neck arches back and she thinks of how close he was to coming...knowing how he struggled to maintain control. His sighs of relief still echo as she shivers to a halt and pulls herself from his touch.

She stretches out beside his shaking form, propping herself up on one elbow as she runs her fingers lightly across the muscles of his chest. Her fingers follow the curve of his throat up to run along his lips, stroking her own juices around his mouth, gently inserting her fingers between his lips for him to clean. His eyes close, breath slowing, muscles relaxing as he as he sucks on each fingertip. Her eyes follow down the length of his form to rest on his twitching cock, a glistening drop of pre_come balanced on its tip.

"Time to get dressed for dinner, my pet...we're going out tonight." She smiles as his eyes open, questioning hers with a look.

"Yes Mistress." He looks up at her, relaxing now, his trust in her complete, willing to follow her anywhere.

"Wash your face. Our outfits are in the front of the closet..." she pushes herself off the floor as she speaks, "And one more thing...get your cock ring and binding cords...we wouldn't want any little accidents, now would we, slave?"

"No Mistress...I'll get them Mistress" he say as he gets up from the floor, a blush suffusing his skin thinking of how close he came to orgasm.

She watches her slave in the mirror as he moves to do her bidding, reveling in his form as he moves quietly around the room. She brushes her hair and pulls on a black silk garter belt as he moves around her, his erection still rampant before him, bobbing as he walks. The silk stockings come next, pulled up with long slow strokes and fastened to her garters. The stockings cover her legs like a fine black mist, barely visible except for the dark sheen as she steps into her heels.

The woman reaches for the dress he holds draped across his outstretched arms, presented to her, head bowed. She slides the dress over her upraised arms and smoothes it down as it falls, the weight of the sheer black silk barely felt along her skin. The dress is cut in a Chinese style, sleeveless with a high collar, slightly open at the front. A Chinese wedge_lock lattice design is woven into the sheer silk...black on black, like a shadow across her body.

The slave gasps, softly, behind her when she moves into the brighter light...the dress is almost translucent, revealing the dark outline of her aureola, her protruding nipples and the dark patch between her legs, framed by her garterbelt. He can see the outline of each perfect cheek when she shifts her weight to admire herself in the mirror. Her body appears only to be covered by the misty lattice design of the fabric...clinging to her like a dark tattoo.

"Bind yourself," she whispers, looking at him in the mirror "I'm going to test it, so make it good..." a slow smile spreading on her lips as she watches him with the cock ring.

His hands shake slightly as he binds his cock with the ring, pulling the rough leather tight around the base of his cock...his cock filling with blood and pulsing in rhythm with his heart. His thoughts race as he wonders about the "test", taking his balls in his hand to wrap the binding leather around them, forcing his testicles down into the sac as he tightens his bonds, fearing to leave any way for his release.

"Ready?" she asks as she turns to face him.

"Yes Mistress" his voice says raggedly as she moves in close and kneels in front of him.

"Oh, please...please..." his voice whispers as he realizes the test, his cock jumping like live animal before him...uncaring of his fate...seeking its own desires. Her lips fold gently around the head.

He groans at the first touch of her lips, his pelvis arcing up to meet her, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides...not wanting to touch her without permission. Sweat breaks out along his face as she slowly takes his length deep into the back of her throat, he knows he would have come in raging torrents if not for his bindings. The sharp ache in his balls weakens his knees; he almost drops to the floor as she slowly circles the tip of his penis with her agile tongue.

He cries out continuously with each flick of her tongue...adrift in the sensation, no thought any longer of holding back...only the tight leather contains him now...in his mind, he has lost. The pain in his balls gnaws at him as she pulls her lips slowly...slowly, from his shaft. He drops to the floor in front of her, his legs finally giving out.

"Get dressed" she says as she runs her hand along the line of his jaw, grabbing it briefly to stare into his eyes, drinking in his emotions.

She rises and turns to face the mirror, watching him dress in the black silk that matches hers. His shirt is mimics hers...the high collar open slightly at his throat, the sleeveless form showing off the muscles in his arms and the width of his shoulders. The same misted lattice design covers him, outlining the firm muscles in his chest. His long black pants fall loosely to the floor, slit open totally up the sides.

He fumbles slightly with the ties at his waist, trying to adjust the wrap_around pants to cover his straining hard_on.

"I have something for that..." she says as she walks toward him with a heavy weight dangling on a silver chain from her fingers.

Her hands reach in to his cock from the sides, the open pants barely moving as she fits a cool metal collar just behind the head of his cock. With a twist of her wrist she tightens it slightly and he feels the grip of small cold teeth against his skin. The sensation of pain lost in the wave of pleasure as he feels her touch along his shaft.

She releases the weight in her hand as she steps back and he feels his cock pulled tightly downward...accompanied by a soft musical ring of bells. His stomach tightens at the pull on his tender head, and he hears the bells slightly again. She laughs lightly at the look on his face.

"I want to know your hard...and ready...when you follow me into the restaurant. In fact, I want everyone to know how your cock sings to me. If you can't stay hard, the ring will slip off...and I'll know you've disobeyed me," the last said with a frown as she stares into his eyes.

"Never, Mistress..." he whispers looking at her.

"Let's decorate some more, shall we?" She smiles and opens her hand to reveal a pair of small nipple clips.

The delicate silver clips are in the shape of Chinese dragons; the mouth of each clip a dragon's angry scowl, sharp teeth gleaming in the light. The twisted form of the each dragon ends with a small weight swinging from its rear claws.

She slips her hands inside his shirt, running along the smooth rise of his pectorals until she feels the tip of each nipple, teasing it with her fingertips before she fastens the dragons. His face contorts as he feels the sharp pain of the dragon's teeth and the small drag as the weights swing from his chest.

"Time to go...we wouldn't want to lose our reservations." He follows her to the car, his cock aching at the sight of her perfect ass moving in front of him, tantalizing him with each swing of her hips.

The low, black Ferrari crouches like a beast as she unlocks his door and bends over, her hands working to adjust something inside. His eyes follow the long curve of her leg as she moves, the lips of her pussy open towards him from the rear as she works. She stands back up and reaches to draw his pants up and open on one side...exposing his ass.

"I want you to ride mounted tonight..." She says as she pushes him towards the open door.

"I've lubricated it well for you."

"Wait 'till I get in...I want to see you enjoy it" She adds as she walks around to the driver's side and climbs in.

When he sees her enter, he leans to climb in the car struggling to position himself for the dildo that rises from the back of the passenger seat, its dark length shining with lubricant. His shoulders hunch and his hands grip in front of him as he slides the tip into his ass.

"Stop," she says as he starts to slip its length slowly inside, "I said enjoy it...fuck it for me. Spread your legs...let me see your cock."

"Yes, Mistress" he says as he moves his legs apart and slips his pulsing cock free of his pants.

His engorged cock seems almost purple in the dim light of the car as she reaches across to massage it...matching her strokes to his shifting ass on the dildo. Her hand rests occasionally on the tight ring below his glans, pressing it into his tender flesh as she strokes. His small moans fill the enclosed space as he tries to take the dildo inside, feeling it opening him, piercing him.

He rides the dildo down until he buries it inside him, all the while feeling like his cock will burst from the casual stroking she gives it. The dildo only adding to his need with its reminder of the penetration he craves. He rests at last on the seat, his ass speared by the dildo, legs held wide to allow his Mistress access to his pulsing cock.

She stops the motion and leans over, squeezing her hand tightly on his shaft, placing her lips around his head. He throws his head back and digs his hands into the seat as he feels her probing tongue forcing itself into the small hole at his tip...stabbing into him as she moves her stiff tongue to taste the pre_come and biting down on the ring around his head. His long cry echoes in the car at this final violation as he twists on the dildo, desperate for any release.

Her head rises from his lap as the sound of his cry melts into the air. She smiles and runs her hand tenderly along the side of his face, then leans in to kiss him.

"You may embrace me" she whispers against his mouth, just before pressing her lips hard against his, feeling his tongue move with hers as his arms come up.

He takes full advantage of her command as his arms wrap around her and pull her up from the driver's side, trying to crush her against his chest...his mouth wild with desire as he pushes his tongue inside her lips, letting his tongue have the penetration his cock craves. He tightens his arms and holds her body against him, uncaring of the tearing pain in his nipples as they move, uncaring of the twisting of the dildo inside him...all of the sensations merge into the white_hot fire of his desire for his Mistress.

They break away at the same time, gasping for air as they look at each other, a grin starting to spread on each face as they think about what they both need.

"Beast!" she says jokingly as she moves from his embrace to settle back into her seat.

"Yes Mistress" he whispers as he drops his head back, eyes closed, trying to still his racing heart, all of his pains moving across him again...each one a reminder of her subtle power over him.

Her hand shakes slightly as she turns the key and the deep rumble of the engine encloses them. She grips the wheel firmly with each hand, digging into the leather to quiet her breathing. Her eyes are drawn to her slave, following the curve of his neck down along his powerful chest, over his rippled stomach to rest on his reddened cock, jutting up from his lap.

"It's fucking hard to be a Mistress, sometimes..." she thinks to herself...knowing how easy it would be to slip him free of all his restraints and go back inside to make love for the rest of the night...slipping into those arms again...

"Fuck this..." she mutters, as she slams the car into reverse, tires squealing as she backs out...shifting to the roar of the engine as the car hugs the road like a lean, dark cat.

The car stops outside a large warehouse in a shabby, dimly lit sidestreet. The man moans softly with relief as he feels them roll to a stop. The dildo buried inside him magnified each vibration of the engine to a maddening pitch...his Mistress drove like one possessed, so every twist of the road slammed him onto his tormentor.

"Good evening...welcome to the Garden" he hears a voice say as his door is opened.

He looks down at his cock, still lying hard against him and shifts his pants to cover it. But he realizes he still has to pull off the dildo...in front of this strange oriental man smiling down at him.

"Mistress..."he begins, his voice a soft pleading.

"Get out." she says somewhat cross as she rises from her side, "We're already late."

"Do you require any assistance?" the smiling man says to him as he extends his hand to brush lightly along the edge of the seat.

"No..." he says as he looks up at his Mistress walking around to his side of the car.

"Come to me" she says, opening her arms, her voice firm, but no longer angry.

"Yes, Mistress."

He pulls himself slowly off the dildo, sighing as he feels finally free, and stands up beside his Mistress, under the dim lights. Behind him he hears a soft chuckle as the man closes the door of the car, obviously having seen what could only have been hidden inside him. His skin flushes at the thought.

The woman leans over and slips her hand into his pants to touch his stiff cock, then moves up to his cock_ring and fastens a fine silver chain to a ring on the side. She brings the other end of the chain out to rest in her hand...a leash that slips out from his cock to her.

She hears his shuddering intake of breath as he feels her tug on the chain to lead him forward. Head slightly bowed, he walks quietly at her side...his soft Chinese slippers barely make a sound. As they move forward you can hear the soft chime of bells.

Once inside the warehouse the space is transformed...the shabby exterior only designed to hide the beauty within. The man gasps in surprise as they move into the restaurant.

The tables are filled with people, but each table nestles in it's own space, surrounded by gently moving bolts of gossamer silk that hang freely from the ceiling. As they move between the tables each space unfolds and then encloses again, wrapped in the shifting panels. All of the panels are varying shades of cream...some very dark, some almost white...each with it's own subtle shadings.

The tables are lacquered red or black; all of them stark against the backdrop of silk. The other furnishings are richly colored and elegant...each dining enclave surrounded with delicate flowers in a stunning variety.

The woman walks in front, her hips swaying gently as she moves. Each time she moves into a brighter light she appears almost naked, the black silk starkly outlining her against the pale panels. The man flushes and his breathing quickens as he watches her, realizing that he, too, is exposed.

His cock throbs as he thinks how all can see his bondage, his clipped nipples, each time he steps into the light. He knows how eyes must linger on his groin...watching his erection pulled down by the cruel weight, hearing the soft sounds of the bells.

Finally, they reach their table, housed inside a small pavilion. Strong cedar beams arc up to enclose them....the silk panels drift in clouds around the outside.

She hears his small sigh as he climbs behind the table, pressing his back against the cushions. Her hand snakes under the table to slip inside his pants and squeeze the ring below his glans...twisting it slightly as she presses.

He cries out, once, sharply, his hands reaching out to dig into the edge of the table as he bends over...the sharp stab of pain followed by her lingering strokes along his cock. Her hand moves along his shaft over and over, each stroke could bring him to climax if not for the bindings on his cock.

He tries to relax as people move in around the table, bringing in covered dishes and setting them with small flourishes before them. Chopsticks appear beside him as he looks down to the table, glasses are filled...all of the usual bustle of a restaurant swirls around him as she keeps up her slow strokes on his cock.

The smells of ginger and chili oil float up to him as his Mistress stops her hand and pulls it out to rest on the table.

"Pick a dish..." she says as she smiles at him.

He glances across the table, his breathing quieting as his cock still throbs, the ache in his balls subsiding a little. His hand reaches for one of the covered platters and he lifts the lid to the smell of chili oil.

Coiled on the plate, covered with chilies and glistening with oil, are small carved balls...linked by a silken cord, ending in a heavy tassel. His breath catches in his throat as he realizes what they are...

"Excellent choice...for an appetizer..." she smiles serenely at him as her hand slips once again under his pants, this time moving to toy with his ass.

"I can tell you're hungry," she teases him. Her fingers move beneath him until she finds the warm place just beneath his balls, down, between his cheeks. He reluctantly accommodates his Mistress by sliding forward in his seat among the cushions, raising his knees slightly to allow her access.

Her nails find his puckered opening and press into it gently, all around it, intentionally but subtly scraping the sensitive flesh. It is still very tender from the ride in the car. The soft, secret place is chafed and stretched and swollen and violated. He winces at the rough treatment of her nails, and worries about the "appetizer" touching this most delicate part. She persists until she has covered the warm little area between his cheeks with gentle scratches of her nails.

He carefully regards the uncovered dish. He can see the little peppers floating in the oil, lying about and on the silken cord, the carved balls, the tassel. He recognizes the peppers as the lethal little dried red devils he has encountered in kung pao chicken. He knows how hot they are. He can smell them easily from here. They flavor a sauce beautifully for those who like it hot, really hot, and spicy. He smiles to himself as he realizes this is indeed spicy. His smile disappears, however, as he remembers his first experience with kung pao chicken years before.

His friends had dared him to eat just a half of one of those little demons. He had done it, of course, and then he had drunk all the beer, then all the water at their table, and then desperately grabbed the water from the table next to theirs, apologizing to the strangers there with hot pepper tears in his eyes, then stuffing soothing white rice into his seared mouth. He hadn't fully recovered for some hours.

"Open wide, darling!" she instructs, lifting his knees with her hands, and separating them. He hooks his hands behind his knees and pushes his bottom still farther forward, and leans back, opening himself completely to her. She easily moves the flimsy fabric aside, exposes him, the cruel bindings, his pride, and his humiliation.

"Don't move a muscle," she sternly whispers, then she softly caresses his stretched sac, and suddenly, lightly slaps it.

"Don't move!"

She lifts a small brass bell from the table and shakes it. Within a few seconds, two elegantly dressed, young Chinese women appear at the opening of their little fabric cocoon. Seeing his predicament, they both quickly avert their eyes, cover their mouths and giggle behind their hands.

"The gwai loh is ready for his appetizer," the Mistress tells them.

"You may serve him now."

One of the women lifts the platter from the table, the other takes a white towel from her arm and carefully raises the silken cord and balls from the pepper oil, holding the towel beneath it and dabbing the oil from the fearsome thing as it drips. Peppers still cling to the glistening cord. The hot scent is strong and sweet and frightening. She arranges the cord on the towel, and approaches the man.

She looks at him, looks directly at his bindings, his ring, his leash, his open cheeks, and she smiles. Her movements are soft and slow as she runs the tips of her fingers across the beads, drawing his eyes to the contours of each carved orb. His breathing quickens as he looks back to her face, his eyes searching.

Both women are smiling now, their sensual full lips parted slightly, shining red against porcelain skin. Each perfect face framed by thick, straight blue_black hair, their features strikingly similar. Sisters, he thinks, friends...his eyes search their faces for clues.

The woman's eyes stay locked with his as she grasps the first carved ball firmly in her fingers, and slowly approaches him...very slowly, as though she is testing him to see whether he will move. He dares not, though his eyes widen in fear.

The ball reaches him, and its rolling touch burns his tortured little opening more than he could have imagined. His eyes clench shut and his mouth twists into a grimace. He can feel the strong hand of his Mistress caressing the back of his neck, calming him, leading him to acceptance. When he peeks out through the slits of his eyes he sees that the girl is grinning broadly.

She presses the oiled sphere into him, and it suddenly disappears. She grasps the next, and pushes. The soft, smooth silken cord feels as rough as hemp rope in the cruel acid oil, dragging across his scratched and tortured tissue. She presses the third into him, and as she does, the second woman approaches him with a cool, damp napkin and wipes the sweat from his brow and his cheeks. His ragged breathing fills the space and his fingers dig into the soft flesh behind his knees.

As the fourth ball enters, the woman leans down and kisses him firmly on the mouth, her tongue moving into his mouth just as the searing ball enters him below. As the fifth ball intrudes into his body, the other woman toys with the nipple clamps, tapping them with her fingers, sending little stabs of pain/pleasure down to his groin.

The sixth ball presses against him and he admits it, welcomes it, knowing now he wants and enjoys the cruel, burning feel of the pepper oil tassel pressing against his hole. He is held open by the still_burning width of the silken cord, and he is glad for it. He will wear the tassel, and he is hungry, he is still hungry, his entire body enflamed with sensation.

Fingers leave their twisting dance on his nipples and move down to squeeze the wet head of his penis firmly, pulling back on the sensitive skin, widening the small opening at its tip. He can feel a moistened tongue probing him and then the slow glide of a finger damp with chili oil circling his slit. The sensations race up his spine, merging into a synergy of pain and desire.

"Sit up straight!" his Mistress commands him.

She watches as his head swings to her voice, eyes searching hers as he shifts to sit back on the cushions. Her hands restlessly toy with long, ebony chopsticks as she concentrates on the emotions raging in his eyes. She smiles at him, knowing how much he longs to hold her, knowing how he fights to hold himself to his seat.

The women move to the opposite end of the table from him. The one who had served him his wonderful, terrible dish asks, "Does Mistress require anything else now?"

The Mistress ponders the question, as she idly lifts a linen napkin covering one of the dishes. Nestled on the plate are tiny jao tse, each plump dumpling no longer than the first joint of her thumb. She picks up one with the points of her chopsticks and slips it into her mouth, closing her eyes as she savors the silky covering of the outer skin and then the bite of ginger and pork.

"I think we require a slightly different dining service for my...friend. Something exotic, enticing?" All three women smile, their thoughts obviously in concert.

The taller of the girls speaks to the other in Cantonese. Smiling and talking quietly to each other they move around the table, removing dishes to a low side table, clearing the gleaming lacquer until only the plate of jao tse and the chopsticks remain. The Mistress casually rests one hand on her slaves cock, stroking him as she watches the table being cleared.

The shorter of the two blushes, then slides out of her dress handing it to the other woman as she climbs up on the table, completely naked except for a fine gold chain around her tiny waist. She kneels in front of the Mistress, settling back on her heels, opening her legs wide, and, finally, arching back to lie on the table. Her open legs frame the dish resting on the table.

The other two women smile at each other across the pale form of the one on the table. They move together, each reaching for the outstretched figure. The Mistress places her hands on the inside of the lean thighs and spreads them further, stretching the muscles outward and causing the woman lying on the table to exhale in a long shuddering sigh. The standing woman reaches under the sides of the table and brings thick braided silk cords to wrap around her friend's wrists, pulling her shoulders wide.

The mistress leans back among her cushions to admire the view before her, delicate lips seen pouting from beneath a very sparse patch of trimmed, black pubic hair. Her chopsticks move to touch the outer lips of the woman, the tips teasing them to part. She can hear the rapid breathing of the man beside her as his eyes wander over the tableau.

Trying to sit obediently and quietly on his burning pepper_oil tail, the slave's cock jumps and spasms, and the Mistress distinctly hears the cheerful chime of the bell fastened to it. The sound brings her a sense of complete satisfaction, a warm rush knowing how his cock is mastered. Her hand works the ring surrounding his glans to loosen it, slipping the ring off and letting his cock jut up from his stomach, pulsing and engorged.

The man's soft moan of pleasure intertwines with the woman's on the table as she feels the chopsticks come to rest on either side of her clit, pressing down to pull her hood back, exposing the ultra_sensitive nub. Her friend leans over her to run her hands along her nipples pinching them, twisting them as their mouths meet, hungry tongues circling.

The mistress takes one of the delicate dumplings in her fingers as she leans forward to flick the tip of her tongue on the very tip of the clit exposed before her. Her fingers slowly slip the dumpling between the tender lips as her tongue circles the nub, the direct stab of her tongue painful in its intensity.

The hips dance and twist beneath her as each dumpling slips inside, her tongue never stops, her lips close to suck on the swollen nub, tearing at it. The woman's frantic cries are muffled against the lips of the other, her back arches up as her nipples are pulled between the long nails of her friend.

The plate is empty when the Mistress stops, standing up at the table and motioning for the other woman to do the same. The woman on the table cries and groans as her hips grind and twist, left with no contact, they arch frantically off the table.

"Please...please...mistress..." she cries over and over.

"Hungry, my pet?" The woman smiles back at her slave, watching him move on the cushions, his need etched in every tight muscle of his body.

"Yes, Mistress" He stands on shaking legs as she motions for him to rise.

"Help us move the table, then." She smiles at his hungry look and runs her fingers lightly along his cock, then down to caress his sac.

He moans and sags against the table at her touch, then presses into the table to move it away from him. Her hands move around his waist as he works, slipping his pants down to fall gently on the floor. He feels her hand toying with the tassel dangling from his ass, tugging it, twisting it, the motion being translated along the cord to the balls inside him. The chili oil still stings him, the sharp piercing of the fire merging with her slow strokes on his cock.

His Mistress presses down on the back of his neck, pushing his face to the parted lips of the woman on the table. His tongue reaches for her, greedy to taste the juices glistening on her lips. He presses his lips against her cunt and slowly tongues a dumpling into his mouth.

The sharp bite of ginger rolls across his tongue as he swallows, pausing to circle the swollen nub of her clit before taking another dumpling. His nipples rub against the edge of the table as he moves, the tiny bites on his chest sending his stomach spasming. He can feel his mistress shifting to move behind him as he slips another into his mouth, tasting the woman's juices on the silky skin of the dumpling.

His upraised eyes can see the that the other woman has climbed on the table, raising her dress and lowering herself to the devouring mouth below. His lips move up slightly to suck on the clit before him, matching his tongue to the hips he sees moving at the end of the table. His cock throbs and dances below him as he works on pleasuring the woman, his own desire an animal gnawing deeply within.

The Mistress smiles as she watches her slave bend to his task, ass clenching around the tassel, his cock rampant beneath. She slides her hand among the cushions until she grasps the long slender bamboo switch, snaking it out to rest along her thigh. Her tongue flicks out to wet her lips as she strokes against one nipple with the palm of her hand, restless eyes following the man's movements. She waits until he spreads himself a fraction wider and then her arm snaps through the air, lashing across his ass with the stinging cane.

He cries out, once, sharply as he feels the sting of the bamboo, the sensation racing up his spine, exploding behind his eyes. He buries his face in the cunt in front of him, arms akimbo, not daring to look behind him for the next blow, knowing it will come in Her time, not his.

"Have you satisfied her, slave?" Her voice is low and soft behind him, sounding with another lash.

"Does she feel her release?" The cane slices through the air, marking him in another spot.

"No. Mistress...Please..." The whistling sound of the bamboo cuts two more times.

"It will please me very much to hear her come. To know you can please a woman."

As she speaks, the bamboo whips across the backs of his thighs, then comes to rest between his legs, the tip just touching his exposed balls. She leans in to rest the other hand in the small of his back, pressing upward with the tip of the cane, forcing him to rise on his toes, exposing himself to her more than before.

His lips continue to work on the woman spread beneath him, sucking the last of the dumplings into his mouth before he runs his tongue back to her clit. She cries out as the last dumpling slips free, her voice muffled by the woman above her, grinding against her face. Her body moves and begins to shake as he concentrates on her clit, moving one hand up to slip his spread fingers inside her pussy...her ass. His fingers work her smoothly as she frantically twists on the table.

His Mistress moves her face to lie alongside his, running her tongue along the edge of his ear as his lips close on the other woman's clit. Her hand strokes the contours of his ass. The skin on his ass feels tight and swollen, the heat outside matching the heat in his bowels as the beads shift with the tassel. All of the sensations merge to the white hot tip of his cock.

"When she comes" she whispers against his face, her lips brushing his skin "I'm going to whip you one last time. I want you to stand just like this, open to me, exposed. I'm going to take your balls this time...Do you understand?"

His breath stops as she speaks, knowing what she wants of him. The pain will be incredible; the thought of the cane striking him in his most vulnerable spot makes his legs weak. He senses the beginning tremors of the woman's orgasm as he whispers "Yes" against her moist pussy.

"My love..." she whispers as she draws back to stand behind him, seeing the woman's orgasm begin.

The woman at the other end of the table cries out softly as she too shudders to a climax, grinding her pussy down onto the face of the one beneath her. The slave stops his fingers, pressing up deeply into the woman, forcing her to higher peaks, as he opens himself to what he dreads.

His stomach clenches and knots as he hears the rip of the cane behind him, cutting through the air with a shriek that sounds like a demon. He braces for the searing pain, willing to accept it for his mistress.

The rushing snap of air brushes his face as the whip falls to crack on the table beside him. Soft laughter sounds behind him.

The rush of adrenaline leaves his pulse pounding in his ears. The relief he feels washes over him, weakening him, bringing him to his knees as the women also collapse from their spent passion. Only his Mistress stays watching him.