Slave Josephine

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Josephine sat at the bar, tracing her slender fingers about the empty shot glass as the heavy pulse of music washed over her body. The eight-inch heel of her black leather boots tapped in time with the throbbing techno music of the Jersey nightclub, but she found little pleasure in it. She had already lost count of how many times her finger found its way around the edge of her empty glass, and couldn't begin to describe how many times she had been asked if she wanted another. Josephine wasn't there to drink.

"Hey baby! You look a little empty, want me to fill you up?" She didn't bother to acknowledge his existence as the scent of bourbon, obviously spewing from his as the unintelligent dribble disrupted the melodic sounds she had grown so accustomed to. He of course tried again, "What are you deaf?"

Josephine still did not answer, her foot keeping metronome time for the song as she battled within the depths of her mind. "What am I doing here? I am the dominant; I am the mistress. Why the hell am I suffering all these insignificant swine, because he ordered me to? What the hell has gotten into me?"

The talking bottle of bourbon reached down and decided to show his stupidity by grabbing her wrist. The bartender laughed to himself as Josephine quickly reversed his grip sending him into agonizing pain that the strongest of libations could not dampen. She stepped her boot onto his chest and made sure he was feeling the extent of her disgust at being touched. His eyes were opened as the pain brought back his sobriety as a train would to a brick wall.

"I'm not your baby," She spoke with such disdain for his life that she could just as easily have killed him. The bartender waved off the bouncers who were coming to her "rescue" they kept the rest of the crowd out of her corner of the bar. The drunkard gazed over the source of his current misery, torn between the beauty in control of him, the pain at his arm and chest, and a serious re consideration of his life.

His eyes fell upon hers first. Despite the blurred vision of an alcoholic bravado, he could have sworn that he saw them as a flash of gold. Her perfectly formed lips painted with black lipstick, held a terse smile, that became obvious to him it was the pain she inflicted that was behind it. The multicolored lights of the club reflected well off her pale skin, healthy and well maintained, but a shade whiter than seemed natural. Wincing in pain as he took in more of her body, desperately looking for a way out, a point he could attack as his old martial arts training would tell him.

As the bourbon dissipated, endorphins and adrenaline took its place he saw the steady rise and fall of her voluptuous chest. The man did not have the time to measure the perfectly formed DD cup, which was restrained by her black leather and steel corset, nor did he have time to notice the intricate details of such a handcrafted article of clothing. His eyes went further seeking his means of escape, to the fold of her skirt now raised and exposing her inner pussy lips to him. Josephine had not worn panties since the 6th grade, and was not about to start now even if she was uncomfortable waiting for one who had captivated her so.

Josephine noticed her would be assailant tense as if to grab at something and she decided to end the momentary reprieve from her boredom. "I'm not your baby..." she said again, feeling the slight crack in the wrist of the pig beneath her heel, "... I'm your Mistress." She punctuated the end of her statement with the snap of the joint she had kept control over him with. By now one of the bouncers she called Bobo had been waiting for her to finish her fun, and before the drunkard could recoil from the pain, Bobo had scooped him up for his appointment with the concrete outside.

"So why are you waiting so patiently. The VIP room downstairs opened an hour ago." The bartender asked, remembering how often she came in and simply found her way to the lower levels of the club for hours on end.

"A man named 'King' contacted me, and asked me to meet him up here."

"King... the 'King'?! Contacted you personally?" the excitement was clear over the ocean of music behind him.

"You know him?"

"I'm surprised you don't 'Mistress Joe', he's a bit of a legend, and a complete ghost."

"How can that be, you need to be recognized to be a legend."

"Oh he's a legend alright, notoriety aside. Some say he's a top money maker in the stocks, others a world renowned spy. Some even say he's just simply a laborer whose come up from a third world country."

"But what makes him so special."

"He seems to have quite the gift for bringing out the submissive in anyone. It's said that the most extreme and humble of requests cannot be denied if he wishes it."

"Oh that's bullshit... and totally against the three principles. Besides you make him sound like an urban legend."

"Well that's what I thought at first, too. Then he came in here one night, about six months ago."

"Oh and let me guess, he 'requested' a drink?" Mistress Josephine enjoyed her sarcasm as she sat back a little on the barstool and ran her finger around the drink yet again, taking the time to check that it was still before midnight.

"No, actually. Like you came in and went straight down into the dungeon. Next thing I know the dance floor is completely empty, the DJ set up a playlist and left, and the bouncers locked up the doors."

"That doesn't sound right, what was going on."

"King was giving a demonstration in proper orgasm denial in the basement, and for the first time ever was taking 'volunteers'."

"Big deal, so I've seen the same thing at many a leather convention."

"Have you ever seen, forty men and women standing in a circle simultaneously orgasm at a single word?"

"Now that's impressive."

"Security Cameras caught it all, semen and pussy juices were everywhere. King stood in the middle of them with his arms crossed, nodding."

"So what does he look like?" Now her interest was finally piqued. The atmosphere of the club seemed to be changing ever so slightly, as she could feel her own juices flow in the anticipation of meeting such a person.

"No one knows for sure."

"Dammit Ray! You saw him, don't lead me up to something and then pull the rug out from under me or I'll show you why I'm called the mistress of pain... again..."

"Mmm, fond memories Jo. But, seriously, he wears a hood and a black mask. Black leather head to toe, long coat, down to the floor. He seems huge when your right up next to him, but isn't much taller than Jake by the door."

"Oh hell, he's only 6'0", that's not big at all." Mistress Josephine's pussy gushed a little as she briefly remembered the night Jake asked to submit to her.

"The guy is very Very fit, though, but has never disrobed publically, and any he's taken for a private scene wouldn't say anything more about him except, that they were told not to."

"Sounds like a pretty powerful player, but I've broken many a Dom and Sub in my day."

"We'll see, so you want another one?"

"Yeah, why not."

"One water, coming straight up."

Josephine wasn't there to drink.

It was some minutes to Midnight, and Josephine was beginning to feel the effects of her frustration. She went over the memory of how she even came to be in the predicament again. 'Queens Cross Tames, Midnight, wearing your best, sober and clean. You'll know me when you see me.' That was what he said, and deep down Josephine knew that was what he commanded. She wasn't going to come, but something compelled her to. She resisted all the way up till the last train she would have to take to make it there on time, but something in her wanted to come.

Grinding her teeth a little she gazed one last time at her watch, spying the time of eleven fifty seven, so close to midnight, and her heart skipped a beat in anticipation. "What am I doing to myself?" she lamented, getting up in frustration to relieve herself. As she stepped into the bathroom near the opposite corner of the bar, she could feel the weight of her full bladder, cursing herself for allowing someone to effect her so. She drank so much water while waiting for him she could barely hold it in any longer and as she passed a young blond woman, dripping in sweat, she almost grabbed her to use as a toilet seat.

The bathrooms were always immaculate at Queens, but there was no such thing as privacy here. The door to the bathroom was the only barrier of privacy, and the toilets themselves were placed a normal amount apart, with toilet paper mounted on a pole nearby. A small crew would come in every two hours and clean it with the utmost haste, so often the scent of cleaning supplies would permeate the air. Josephine found the scent a good reminder of the world outside Queens but she always enjoyed walking into the bathroom to find just what it was designed for.

As she squatted on the seat and spread her legs wide she released the steady stream of piss out of her delicate mound. A sigh of relief passed her darkly painted lips as her phone sounded it's vibrating alarm. "Oh god Midnight." Josephine exclaimed to herself, feeling her stream not being close to ending. She was panicking and tried to hold it in, attempting to stop the flow, but it was too much and she resigned herself to the consequences.

The twelfth stroke of midnight, the door to the women's bathroom opened, and in walked a Man. Josephine had never seen him before, but as her bladder finally emptied, she felt a twinge in her exposed pussy. He was tall wearing a black on black ensemble, of a shirt, tie, pants and shoes. All matching and varied shades of black giving him a nearly surreal look. The man didn't speak, and Josephine was frozen in place. She fought with herself, knowing how she should react, how she should be furious for this uninvited invasion, but her heart was pumping faster and faster, as she felt warmth radiate out from her sex, still dripping as she was unable to move.

Wordlessly he turned the lock, and walked towards her. Josephine felt her heart race faster and faster with every step that he approached her. It was inevitable that he would reach her soon, the anticipation and confusion pulsed through her veins, sharpened her senses and tensed her muscles. Her mind battled within itself to find how she could cause the most pain in a single move, but conflicted, a single move wouldn't come to mind. She could feel herself building more and more with his every powerful stride. Josephine felt she was ready to explode into a burst of rage, frustration, lust, anger, desire, and confusion. Gone was the calm control, gone was the sadistic torture methodology, gone were her inhibitions, gone was everything but the purest sense of conflict within her.

He was too close for comfort, her face was eye level with his crotch, and her hands had been balled into fists. It was too late, to launch a proper attack, he had closed the gap before she could even rise from the toilet. When Josephine realized he was right on top of her, the fuse had finally reached it's detonation point. She lunged upwards, her fist sent careening towards his handsome face, her eyes locked on his, lasers painted on a target. She would defeat the source of all her frustration in a single blow, destroying it and leaving it for dead. She was the Mistress of Pain, Mistress Josephine.

The lightest sensation of touch caressed her lips. She didn't know how, but the softest feathered touch of a finger pressed lightly into her lips, stopped the atomic bomb of her fist. Her clit swelled, as he felt that finger touch her, her hands opened and she fell upon him. Waves of pleasure washed from all directions, for every ounce of explosive emotion, she felt soothing prickling about her body. What had he done to her? She orgasmed without a word, washing her thighs in her pussy juice. Josephine's mind was wracked with pleasure, as the man swept her up in her arms, and began to dance his fingers upon her shaven mound.

"oohhhh, yes, yes!" She moaned and cooed, opening herself to him completely, as she watched his dark eyes close as his lips wrapped around her full heavy breast. Sensations she experienced only when she felt the orgasmic pain of her submissives was radiating out from every point of contact between them, and her body convulsed in his arms. Josephine wrapped her arms around his neck pleadingly, not to stop. "just a little more, please, Please!" she would cry, between screams, leaving the physical world behind. He had her defenseless, taking her, pleasing her in ways she couldn't have possibly imagined. Josephine clamored for his touch, she clawed at his shirt, she didn't care of sanity, or domination anymore. She felt his touch was what was missing throughout it all, and her orgasms flowed continuously from every point of her body he touched. The man silently continued to work on her, deftly and without mercy.

"please take me, fuck me, use me. Anything, I must have you! I'm yours" Josephine knew she had never spoken more truer words, but it scared her to think that she could submit so easily to someone she didn't even know. Josephine, who had never felt submissive a day in her life, was ready to be collared and beg at his feet for the sake of her pleasure. Somewhere amidst all of this he had set her back down on the seat, and kissed her on the lips.

Josephine's body continued in the aftershocks of moments gone by, the memory pulsing in her brain with the small tendrils of her sanity returning to her. She sat there, satisfied, but unfilled, as he hadn't spoken a word, let alone allow any of his clothing to be out of place as he walked towards the bathroom door. Trying to hold onto him any way she could, to find out what had just happened to her, Josephine attempted to speak, barely able to muster any more than a whisper, "ww...who..are you?"

"King..."

Josephine's labored breathing eased slightly as the man walked out the door. The memory of his face already fading from her mind despite how she tried to hold onto it. The memory of her temporary submission seemed lodged there. Finally composing herself enough she walked back out to the bar and sat down where she was before. "Rum, and give me a double." Josephine had a lot to think about.

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