She was a mess and absolutely perfect. My Love. Now, her face, thighs, ass, and mound were covered in drying or dried cum. Her ass was still a soft red, her nipples enourmous and tender.
Her hands still cuffed behind her, her dress now disintigrated, her eyes hidden behind a blindfold. She’d just been fucked in every hole, spanked, and humiliated by a handful of closely vetted Dominants. Now, was her ultimate test. My turn. I unlocked her wrists and rubbed them. I walked her to the back wall where I attached her wrists and ankles to the chains. Now she was spread eagle, standing, basically in the St. Andrew’s Cross position. This would be her hardest test. The other Doms, subs, and I would relax, chat, sip our drinks, nibble on snacks all while she could hear us but was unable to see and restricted from speech. Every now and them one of us would tweak her already used and sensitive nipples, slap her pussy with a hand or crop, flog her thighs or breasts. She would never know when something was coming her way. Would have no way to prepare herself. After about 15 minutes of this, my Love was sobbing but silent. She knew well that she could easily say her safeword. I would not be the least bit disappointed or upset if she did! No, she wouldn’t though. She wanted to do this. Wanted to succeed. Wanted me to make it difficult. Now I talked with Master K about the different techniques for anal discipline since my Love had spoken during his session with her. She would be punished for that and I had decided that a week of anal discipline should do the trick. While we talked, I slipped an ice cube from my drink deep into her pussy. Her muscles clenched around my fingers and she trembled. I pressed my thumb against her clit and she came, drenching my hand with her honey. AFfter 25 minutes I decided she’d had enough. I unbound her but warned her to keep her hands on her head. I kissed her, then announced that she, my Love, had passed the Gauntlet. Only one final initiation remained. The communal flogging. She must stand unmoving while each member – four in total – delivered five strikes of the flogger. These strikes could be anywhere on her body – and they were. The Mistress went first, giving her five across her calves and thighs. Master K between her legs. Master J across her belly. Me, Master A, across her back and shoulders. She accepted each and every stroke with grace. I reached up, untied her blindfold, held her hand high like a prizewinner to the applause of all present.
She had made it. She was now, in our small group, a Supreme Submissive.
“Are you happy?” I asked?