The Miscyra House Read online

  She left the stage and we continued to remove our clothing, but in a slightly more dignified atmosphere.

  I did lose the strip race. They were both naked before I was. I think I might have won a few points, though, because my cock was more fully erect than theirs were when I finished stripping. The woman who had brought the baskets came back and took the filled baskets away.

  I looked at the other two men, and they looked at me. There we were, three naked men, three cocks sticking straight out from three hairy crotches, just standing there. They left us there, looking silly, for a few minutes.

  Then, three young women came onto the stage. Each carried a drawstring cloth bag and a large plastic mixing bowl filled with water. One of the women came over to me, the other two went to the other men. My young woman put down the bag and bowl, then pulled a thick towel from the bag and spread it out on the stage. She told me to move onto the towel.

  The woman dipped a large sponge into the water and, from a squeeze bottle, squirted some liquid soap onto the wet sponge. Then she started to wash my body from the waist down. She soaped me all around, just above my waist, then squatted down behind me and soaped both buttocks. She pushed the sponge up between my legs, so I spread them a little to give her more room to work. She soaped the base of my scrotum, then down the back and inside of each leg. She moved around in front to do the front and outside of each leg.

  She was rubbing the sponge and one of her soft hands over my skin as she worked. It was getting me pretty hot. As she worked in front, my cock was bobbing up and down with excitement. I got the impression that she was trying to avoid touching, or even looking at, my cock and balls as she worked. That changed, though, when she finished the front of my legs.

  She pressed the sponge against me, just over the base of my cock, and warm, soapy water squeezed out of the sponge. It quickly ran down over my cock and balls, finally to drip down onto the towel. She squeezed some liquid soap onto her hand, reached out and grabbed the shaft of my cock.

  "Uhhh!" I moaned when I felt her warm, slippery hand wrap itself around my dick. She started scratching my pubic hair, working up a good lather. And she ran her hand up and down my cock shaft several times.

  Shit! What she was doing now was almost making me shoot out my load. I squirmed vigorously and moaned softly as she cleansed my genitals.

  If it felt like that when I washed myself, I thought. I would probably only come out of the shower to eat and sleep…and fuck Cindy!

  She had seemed a little reluctant when she first started working on my cock. But I think she kind of liked the squirming and moaning that her hands were making me do. She was rubbing and scratching with more enthusiasm. In a few minutes, she finished.

  Any longer, and she probably would have made me shoot out my load. She used the wet sponge to wash off most of the soap, and then she wiped my genitals with the small towel.

  She soon made it clear that washing me was only the beginning. She picked up a spray can and covered my left leg with shaving foam and started shaving off the hair with a straight razor. I tried to stand completely still for her. I didn't want her to cut anything but hair.

  In a few minutes, she had finished shaving both my legs. The skin on my legs was feeling kind of funny, tingly and extra sensitive. Inside, I was feeling even funnier. After all, this was the first time since puberty that my legs had been hairless.

  "Lean forward and put your hands down on the stage," she told me. When I had my hands down on the stage, she said "Put the top of your head on the stage, like you were getting ready to stand on your head. Then spread your legs.”

  What a position she put me into! My ass was up in the air, right there in front of her.

  She put her hands on my ass cheeks and pushed them apart.

  "Damn!" she complained. "That'll need shaving too.”

  She covered the skin around my anus with cold shaving cream. I shivered at the feeling of the cold foam on my skin. Being "handled" by this young woman had my special internal fire burning pretty hot.

  I remembered how Lauren and Tracy had shaved around my asshole before fucking it with a strap-on cock. The memory of that fucking made me shake with a sudden strong shudder.

  Shaving around my ass hole was a lot more difficult than shaving my legs had been. The young woman complained to herself several times about how hard it was to get the straight razor in where it needed to be. I started to really expect that I'd be cut.

  Maybe if I felt my own warm blood trickling down the inside of my legs, that might give me enough reason to withdraw without feeling guilty toward Cindy.

  But it didn't happen.

  She handled that straight razor very skillfully. She finished shaving all around my asshole without accident. She wiped me again with the small towel when she had finished in the back, and she told me to stand upright.

  She moved in front of me and covered the hair around the base of my cock with shaving foam. This time, I was able to watch her as she worked. She pushed my cock to one side with her left hand, then, holding the razor in her right hand, she shaved the other side.

  I felt so vulnerable.

  The name Bobbet suddenly came to mind.

  But again, she shaved me with skill. In just a few minutes, my cock and balls were hairless. I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

  She wiped off all the remaining foam then started running both her hands over the skin that she had just shaved. She wasn't feeling me up; she was just checking for stubble. But I groaned and shuddered from the feeling of her hands on my skin.

  It was tingling and extra sensitive from the shaving. Satisfied that no more shaving was needed, she picked up all the things that she had brought with her and left the stage. I saw that the other two men were standing, naked, washed and shaved, just like I was.

  After a few moments, Ms. Stone came back onto the stage and spoke to the audience.

  "Ladies, our authors are ready for the performance competition. But before we continue, we have to make a decision. It has been moved and seconded that our prize to the winner be increased to $10,000. I know we can all afford that amount, but it is quite a bit of money. Please vote only if you are a member of the L.L.L.L.A. All those in favor of doubling the prize, signify by saying aye.” Many female voices responded.

  "All those opposed?”

  I was delighted. There were no responses.

  Damn! They really wanted to be sure that we were going to submit willingly, regardless of what they did to us! I figured that I could take a lot for ten grand, and I figured the other men would be willing to do it too.

  Ms. Stone continued, "The motion is carried. The prize will be $10,000. We will start to circulate the tip jars now.”

  She gestured and three young women came onto the stage, each holding a one gallon, wide-mouth jar. "You can show your appreciation to all our competitors, not just the winner, by tipping generously to each jar. The minimum tip will be $20.”

  The three young women took the jars off stage, presumably to start passing them around through the audience.

  Wow! I was impressed by the generosity and wealth of these women. They had just doubled their prize to $10,000, and those jars looked like they could each hold at least a few thousand dollars in $20 bills.

  They really did want to see men submit to women. And they must be wealthy far beyond anything I could imagine. Maybe the abusive husbands they dumped were also rich bastards.

  "Ladies," Ms. Stone said "we are very fortunate in this year's competition to have a nationally recognized and respected dominatrix with us to test our competitors. She comes to us all the way from south Florida. The washing and shaving that was just completed were done at her request to bring the men up to her standards. Please welcome…Mistress Evilina!”

  The gap through the curtain was opened and Samantha walked out onto the stage.

  Chapter 6

  SHIT!

  I stopped breathing for a moment and my mouth fell open in surprise.


  SAMANTHA!

  She was dressed in black leather from head to foot. Her costume included thigh-high boots with spiked heels, fingerless gloves, panties, bra, bustier, and a hat that looked like something from Hitler's Gestapo.

  I realized that I had been set up.

  When the L.L.L.L.A. made my airplane reservation, they must have made the one for Samantha at the same time. They put us together in seats 27-A and 27-B. Maybe Samantha had told them that she would do something to start getting me ready before I arrived in LA.

  I wondered if what she did to me on the plane was planned in advance or had been spontaneous.

  Ms. Stone and Samantha greeted each other warmly, Victoria telling her "They are yours for as long as you want them.”

  Ms. Stone left us alone on the stage with Samantha. A young woman brought a wooden chair and a small table onto the stage. There was a box on the table, but I couldn't see what was inside the box.

  Samantha took a leather collar from the box and put it around Ben Flemming's neck. She did the same thing to Stephen Forbes.

  "You will each be…severely tested," she warned. "But you will be tested individually.”

  She gestured and a young woman came onto the stage and walked over to Flemming. She attached a leash to his collar and led him from the stage to wait for his turn to be tested. A second young woman did the same thing to Forbes.

  Samantha walked over in front of me. Naturally, I kept my eyes lowered to the floor just in front of my feet.

  "You will be tested first, Spot. Does that please you?"

  I shivered when she called me Spot. I hadn't been called that since my night at the Spartacus Club. I didn't answer her question right away. I thought that I was supposed to wait until after she had given me permission to speak.

  "Does that please you?" she asked again, and she reached down and grabbed my hairless balls, giving them a painful squeeze.

  "Owww!" I softly groaned, but still I didn't answer her question. I was convinced that I should wait until she told me I could speak.

  She pulled my balls downward, and I had to fall to my knees.

  "Oh, my! Silly me," she laughed. "I forgot to tell you. When I ask you a question, I expect you to answer right away."

  "Yes, Mistress," I whispered.

  "WHAT?" she loudly demanded, giving my balls another painful squeeze.

  "YES, MISTRESS," I loudly replied.

  "Be sure everyone is able to hear you whenever you speak," she told me. Then she finally released my balls. I wasn't sure why, but being treated this way by Samantha had my special internal fire raging.

  She had a certain style or something.

  Maybe it was her contempt for maleness. Anyway, my cock was sticking straight out from my groin and it would be like that almost the whole time that I was on the stage with Samantha.

  "Spot, what limits are there in what I may do to you?"

  "Mistress Evilina, there are no limits in what you may do to me, or in what you may tell me to do to you."

  "Then, what is it that you want me to do to you?"

  "Mistress Evilina, I want you to do whatever it pleases you to do to me.”

  I felt pretty good. Samantha seemed to be satisfied with my answers. Maybe I had learned enough about male submission to play the role pretty well. Maybe this wouldn't be too hard after all.

  Samantha walked over to the chair and sat down. She looked back at me, so I got onto my hands and knees and crawled over in front of her. When I was in front of the chair, I got into an upright kneeling position, with my hands down at my sides and my eyes lowered to the floor directly in front of me. She extended her right leg, resting the heel of her boot against the stage.

  I understood. I leaned forward, took hold of the back of the heel, and tried to pull the boot off her foot.

  It didn't budge.

  "Don't make me wait," she said.

  It was a little strange to hear her speaking so loudly when I was right in front of her. But, of course, she wanted everyone to hear, so she had to speak loudly.

  "But take care. If you are clumsy enough to cause me discomfort, I will give it back to you ten fold."

  I put both my hands under the heel of the boot and pulled. Still nothing. Down on my knees like that, I couldn't pull hard enough. I was pulling only with my arms and shoulders, without any leverage or traction against the stage.

  I got a little frustrated and pulled at an angle, twisting her ankle slightly.

  "Owww!" she cried. "That will be TEN!"

  That sounded ominous. After a moment I said loudly "Mistress Evilina, please help me to serve you."

  She lifted her left foot and pressed the sole of her boot against my left shoulder. That would have been okay, but the pointed heel was pushing painfully against my chest.

  I groaned softly as the heel pushed into my flesh. But the extra force did do the trick. The heel of her right boot slipped off of her foot. I tried to be careful as I worked the boot down her leg and over her foot. Somehow, the boot was too narrow and I guess I twisted her ankle again.

  She jerked her leg and loudly said "TWENTY!"

  She helped me again in getting her left boot off. This time, she was pushing against my right shoulder with the bottom of her bare right foot. I liked that a whole lot better than when she was pushing the heel of her left boot into my chest. Fortunately, her left boot came off more easily than the right and she wasn't hurt. The count stood at twenty.

  When her legs were bare, Samantha got up from the chair. She had very attractive legs, nicely proportioned and with firm thighs. I liked looking at them.

  "Stand up and hold onto the arms of the chair," she told me.

  When I was in position, leaning over the front of the chair, she took a riding crop from the box.

  "Count them."

  SWISH! I heard the riding crop slicing through the air a moment before the blow landed. SMACK! "OWWW! One, thank you, Mistress Evilina," I gasped as the sharp, stinging pain spread outward from the middle of my back.

  There was a lot more pain than I was expecting. Damn! If that was a sample of what the others would be like, I really wasn't sure that I'd be able to take the whole twenty. I trembled with a fear that I had felt only once before.

  Surprisingly, my cock remained stiff…at least for the moment.

  Samantha paused for a moment to let me think about the pain that was coming. She knew that thinking about the pain would make it that much greater. When the first blow had fallen, there were several gasps from the female audience. Maybe they didn't know that she would hit me that hard. The gasps were followed by voices in conversation.

  Their "therapy" had suddenly become intense.

  SWISH! The pause was over. I tried to brace against the pain. But it didn't help much. SMACK! She put the second blow exactly where the first blow had fallen.

  "Ohhh!" I groaned. I lost my hold on one arm of the chair and, for a moment, I felt like I might fall. "Two, thank you, Mistress Evilina.”

  An obvious welt was rising across my back. The commotion in the audience grew louder. I couldn't tell whether the ladies in the audience liked or didn't like what Samantha was doing to me. I wondered how many of them might actually be looking at me as a sort of surrogate "whipping boy" for their abusive ex-husbands.

  Samantha continued the beating, directing blows onto my ass and upper legs as well as my back.

  When the count had risen to thirteen, I was getting weak.

  My broken cock was hanging down from my groin in an imitation of overcooked linguini. The back of my body had turned a bright pink, and there were several visible welts running across my flesh.

  I was having trouble reporting the count to Samantha. I feared that if I made a mistake in the count, she might start over. I wasn't sure that I could take any more, not even for $10,000. But I still thought I had to try.

  I clenched my teeth together and braced for the next one.

  Then I heard a voice…a soft, very sweet voice…from th
e audience. The voice said "mercy.” Others, then many others joined that voice. "Mercy…mercy," the voices said.

  My eyes filled with tears as I heard the voices of strangers asking Samantha to show me mercy. Of all human characteristics, the ability to feel compassion for others is one of the most appealing.

  "Spot," Samantha demanded, "do you want me to be merciful?"

  I could hardly speak. My body was visibly trembling and my voice was very shaky. "Mistress Evilina, I want you to do to me whatever pleases you to do to me."

  "Even if it would please me to continue your punishment for hurting me?"

  My heart sank at her words. "Ye…yes, Mistress Evilina. Even then."

  She was satisfied. "Ladies, you are both wise and kind," she told the audience. "Spot's correction is complete.”

  She put her riding crop down on the table and took a jar out of the box. She took the glove off her right hand and rubbed the cream from the jar onto my beaten flesh. The cream felt cool, and it worked like the ointment that Mistress Amy had rubbed onto my ass at the Spartacus Club.

  It immediately stopped the pain. I was suddenly feeling pretty good. I thought I had made some good points with the members of the audience.

  "Go back to your position, Spot," Samantha told me.

  She opened the front fastenings on her bustier and pulled it off. I tried unsuccessfully not to stare at her. She was naked now except for her panty, bra, and gloves. Her body was truly beautiful.

  My cock started to stir a little, hinting that I might soon have a woody again.

  Samantha pulled a strap-on cock from the box. The dong itself was flesh colored, and seemed to be about seven inches long and almost two inches thick.

  She walked over to where I was kneeling on my spot and handed the strap-on cock to me. I didn't know what she wanted me to do with it, so I just held it.

  She started to look angry.

  Damn! I thought. If she gets mad at me, she might pick up her riding crop again! I sure didn't want that to happen. I had to do something. I held the base of the dong and pushed the head into my mouth.

  "Mmph! Mmph!" Samantha said, swallowing what could have been a much bigger laugh. There were bigger laughs from the audience. Samantha's mirth passed very quickly, though, and she looked even angrier than before.