Two months of intense and wonderful exchanges with Madame led me on this January day in front of this little door.
For her, I gradually became O, submissive and docile. Under my “civilian” clothes, I am already wearing part of my outfit, the one in which I will have to appear in front of her (a waist cincher, stockings, a tiny feminine thong in transparent lace).
That's all I know about what awaits me. Everything that happens behind this door will be new to me... My heart beats wildly when, finally, it's time to ring the doorbell.
Finally I'm going to meet Madame! A charming young woman (Mademoiselle Calamity) opens the door, and I say the agreed words:
— Hello, I am O, expected by Madame.
- Yes, I think you need to prepare yourself...
Rather than staying in the hall, I prefer to take refuge in the toilets to carry out my metamorphosis.
After removing my clothes in near-darkness barely pierced by a shy red glow, I put on the dog collar and attach the leash. I put on the hood that hides my face, leaving my mouth and eyes free. I put on my pumps. Here I am ready, here I am O. I take a deep breath and walk out.
— Mmmmm that's good, I think Madame will be happy, said Mademoiselle, before blindfolding me.
Gently guided by her, I descend the stairs awkwardly, perched on my pumps, and once I reach the bottom, she makes me kneel.
I understand that I am on a prie-dieu. So I spontaneously adopt a prayer position, hands clasped in front of me, head bowed. Mademoiselle comes to open my mouth and places the handle of the leash there.
I hear noises around me and I feel that I am not alone.
Is Madame among these people? —Who are you bringing us here?
a voice asks. “Madame’s submissive,” replies Mademoiselle.
The comments are rife about my lingerie, about my butt… I know I'm being scrutinized and I feel like I'm shaking like a leaf.
— Can we touch?
Various palpations.
As I readjust the handle of the leash in my mouth because it is gradually covered with saliva, Mademoiselle stops me:
— It's better if you drool.
The moment she says these words, I know she's right...
- And what's that bitch's name?
“Oh,” I replied to the unfamiliar voice before replacing the leash.
A powerful hand comes to rest on the back of my neck and squeezes it, exerting pressure to make me lower my head further.
People are approaching, I feel them, and I see light stockings under my blindfold which has slipped a little.
A hand takes mine and places it on the stockings, inviting me to caress.
I feel hairs and instantly understand that it is a transvestite (it will later be confirmed that it is indeed Olivia). — Go back to the bottom limit, no higher.
A little uncomfortable, I comply.
Then Olivia takes my hand, and seems to want to slide it higher towards the inside of her thighs but I seem to see another hand which interrupts her, and I suddenly understand that Madame is there who guides the operations, can -be from the beginning. — I'm here O.
She says. This voice instantly captivates me.
At the same time incredibly soft, refined, reassuring. Madame lifts me up, still blindfolded, before saying:
— You are going to serve as a table for us.
Here I am on all fours, exposing my buttocks in a humiliating position, and a drink is placed on my back.
It is difficult for me to assess the horizontalness of my position but the glass remains in place.
But it is above all the weight of the eyes that I feel on me which is becoming heavier and heavier. After a time which seems relatively long to me, the glass is removed, Madame gently lifts me up, removes the blindfold, and finally I see her.
What illumination! I'm dazzled. Her big eyes look at me, she smiles at me with infinite sweetness. I can see her perfect breasts under the transparency of her dress. She is magnificent, and a great natural elegance emanates from her person. She introduces me to the audience, made up of Olivia, H, Alex DirtyVonP, Mademoiselle and other guests…
Madame senses my excitement and reassures me with kindness.
Then, leash in hand, she guides me towards the second staircase in which I follow her, missing nothing of her sway in her tight dress as we go upstairs, where I meet Monsieur.
Here I am again blindfolded, wrists hanging from the ceiling.
Madame places two clamps on my nipples, then takes hold of my penis and my purses, and in a rapid and controlled movement, binds them firmly.
She stands in front of me and her nails run over my chest, my sides, my back.
Wonderful sensations. I am hers, at her mercy. I would like her to dig her nails in even more... She presses herself against me, I hear her breath near my ear before suddenly feeling her bite on my shoulder, almost in the crook of my neck.
I close my eyes and a shiver of pleasure runs through me. She then goes behind me, spreads my buttocks a little with one hand, makes me spread my legs, and grabs my purses which she pulls firmly back.
A slight pain comes quickly, and she controls the intensity by pulling more or less... How good it is to feel held by her, absolutely vulnerable. I let out a long moan... She lets go of me, and I understand that she is taking an accessory, in this case a flogger with wide straps, with which she begins to whip my chest, my sides, my back.
New sensation. Not really painful, but the impact is there. I wish I could see her perform this gesture. Monsieur then grabs the flogger and the blows follow one another quickly, more nervous, more powerful.
Still no pain though. But I lose nothing by waiting... Madame unties me, and asks me if I feel ready for the wheel.
Without really understanding what that means, I answer yes. But I would say yes to all his requests. After waiting so long, hoping for this moment so much, I am here to fully play my role, to be hers, and to undergo what she wants. So here I am still blindfolded, attached to the wheel, then tipped upside down.
A few more strokes of the flogger, then I feel a gentle warmth in front of my mouth.
I don't understand what or who it is. Blinded, unbalanced, I have lost all spatial reference, I no longer know where Madame is or in what position. But I guess whatever comes into my mouth, I'm supposed to kiss it, or lick it.
So I do so, and in a few seconds I understand that it is his penis that Madame is presenting to me. In this confusion of sensations, nothing else exists. I am focused on this divine offering, the taste of which I now perceive. Then she gets up and I hear:
- So, is my cat good?
And I capsize.
Oh yes she is good Madam! I am again tilted into a vertical position, and Madame comes to press herself against me, facing me, grabbing my hands with hers.
She had to take off her dress, and I feel her skin against mine, her breasts against my chest. Monsieur then begins to whip her with the flogger. I feel her flinch with each impact. I feel an indescribable emotion at feeling her there, right against me, submissive in turn. As the blows increase in force and frequency, as I feel the intensity of his sensations growing in his slightest reactions, a feeling of compassion and sharing invades me.
I want to whisper to him, “It’s okay, I’m here.” It's as if I want to protect her (even though I know full well that she is fully enjoying every second of this moment). I try to squeeze his fingers to communicate my empathy, my total commitment to him. I wish she would grab me and dig her nails into me with every stroke. As if to transmit part of her pain to me, that I take my share of it, that I suffer too, for her. Regularly, Monsieur comes and strikes from the side to also reach me, on the sides.
Compared to when I was alone, the blows seem very different, significantly sharper. I'm starting to flinch too, and she must feel it. Then Monsieur asks him to turn around, facing him.
She presses herself against me again, this time from behind, clinging to my wrists. The shots start again. Stronger. I can't imagine the feeling on her breasts. But the power of her jolts testifies to the intensity of what she is experiencing. I can now hear him letting out little cries. I feel his pain. And his pleasure. Then Monsieur comes and hits my sides. Very gradually, the power increases. I too now really flinch with every click. I think I'm starting to make sounds too. After a while, Madame seems to be unable to take it anymore.
But Monsieur pushes his limits. - Again !
And there, the sharp clicks came one after the other with even more force, each time extracting a cry from him.
She seems on the verge of failing, and every blow she endures tears me apart. And again the blows on my sides. So strong now. My whole body is covered by a powerful wave with each impact, which must be transmitted to his. And these blows are now hot, cutting. I think I'm screaming too. We merge in pain and pleasure.
I couldn't have dreamed of a more powerful moment. Sublime fullness of feeling united with her. The beating stops.
It takes us a long time to begin to regain our senses. Madame readjusts her dress. Surprisingly, soon enough I no longer felt any pain. It was only much later that I would discover the marks on my body, which would bear witness to the biting intensity of that moment. We take a break at the bar, and after a while, Madame asks me:
- So O, your foundation, can we visit it?
How I love the way she asks this question!
Once again, of course, I answer yes, both excited and a little worried about what happens next... We go back up and I find myself lying on my back on the “medical” bed.
Madame seems to hesitate for a second to blindfold me again, and blurts out: - Oh yes, it's always better when you can't see.
So here I am, feet in stirrups, legs apart, offered.
What a humiliating position! And what a feeling to find myself like this in front of Madame, totally vulnerable. Madame calls Olivia, then I hear clicking noises that I seem to identify.
— Do you hear the sound of the latex gloves, O?
Without seeing her, I understand that Olivia is now standing near the bed, to my left, while Madame, very gently, gradually begins to introduce her fingers into me.
A hand begins to caress my penis and I understand that it is Olivia's, who leans over and takes it in her mouth.
Gradually, slowly, Madame ventures further, pushing me further and further apart.
Intoxicating feeling. I always want to be hers more and more. Focused on my feelings, I did not feel Mr. standing to my right coming.
He grabs my nipples, pinches them, pulls them, turns them. And as waves of pleasure run through my body while Madame searches me with her fingers, Monsieur orders: “Don’t move!”
» And as I start again in spite of myself, “Don’t move or I’ll pinch harder!” ". The pleasure of feeling Madame inside me invades me, makes me capsize.
I think I must be moaning. After a moment, when I am at the limit of what my foundation can endure, Madame gently withdraws her fingers, and says to me:
- Olivia sucked you well O?
— Yes Madam
— You will thank her O
— Yes Madam
— And you know how?
I fear I have understood…
- No Madam
- You are going to suck Olivia.
You will do it for me. I am unable to respond, and I experience the rest in a bit of a daze, as if I were acting independently of myself, as if I was disconnecting my mind from my body.
A lot of things are racing through my head. This is the moment of truth, that of checking if I am really capable of obeying Madame's desires. I am totally passive, I let my head be placed to the side.
— Go ahead, you can help yourself with your hands.
I feel this penis presenting itself in front of me.
The hole in the hood blocks my mouth a little, and I have to move it a little, widen it with my fingers to make this possible. Olivia doesn't have a hard-on, and the introduction is difficult. First contact. I notice that I need to open my mouth wider. And I find myself forced to suck it in to get it into my mouth. I start to suck it in a back and forth motion. I have to pump so that the movement can take place. I still try to apply myself, while in my head this voice is screaming at me: “You are sucking a cock! ". I try not to hurt my teeth. I have difficulty realizing this. Olivia comes to place my hand on her buttocks. I must not be too bad because Olivia has the beginnings of an erection... Completely focused on the enormity of what I have to do, I totally missed what's happening on the other side.
Gradually, I seem to understand that Madame is leaning on the bed (but at what distance from me I cannot say), while Monsieur begins to take her from behind. She moans as Monsieur's movements seem to speed up.
After a while, while I am still focused on my task, and without me understanding how things ended, Madame leaves!
His voice, fading away: — I'll leave you to it, go on, you're doing it for me.
Everything is collapsing, I feel a feeling of tearing, of abandonment.
What am I doing, and why?
Without Madame, it no longer makes sense. But I tell myself that this is part of her plan, that she is willingly testing me, and I find it in myself to continue. Olivia withdraws for a moment.
— Is this your first time sucking a cock?
— Yes
— You suck very well.
Madame returns shortly after, and asks Olivia to stop.
It's finish.
I did it.
For her.
I am going through conflicting emotions.
Shock from this last ordeal, but satisfaction at having lived up to Madame's confidence. My head is spinning. I get up, and Madame, smiling at me, removes my hood... Her smiling face expresses both satisfaction and benevolence.
But I already have to leave.
I change and leave the club, my mind filled with all these sensations that remain so vivid within me. Thanks to Madame, Ô is now part of me. I don't want to let it disappear...
Cross story of Madame M
