Bacchanalia and collaring at The Seraglio
Anticipation hangs in the air. I can smell it as it falls like the transparent cloud of the finest foundation powder and mingles with the scent of precious spices, frankincense and pine needles of my perfume trapped in latex.
At the appointed Time, S arrives for the preparations. A first ritual: bath, devotional worship and a thorough internal cleansing by enema before being allowed to start the transformation into his Alter Ego: 'constance' who will soon be collared.
Constance's Byzare outfit lies on the spanking bench and on the ancient Persian rug: Agent Provocateur's Bullet Bra in silk satin and diaphanous mesh, Woolford Body and shimmering tights, two pairs of tan tights of different deniers to conceal any disgraceful pilosity and a pair of red large fishnet stockings, all tights are crotchless. A black and red latex suspender belt and the 1920's red and black hood that I like so very much because it enhances constance shy sluttinness, shine. A gorgeous black satin training corset will soon strangle his waist and black patent leather pumps will push his pelvis and allow hidden curves to emerge from depth of the Female...
An atmosphere of intimacy envelops us in the red penumbra of the afternoon sun filtered through the heavy damask drapes, as each item is ritualistically donned, renewing and strengthening our bond of Mistress and submissive in these simple actions taken out of the profane and invested with meaning.
The distant, muffled sound of m von s's steps above us preparing the Libations of red fruits and Champagne...., reinforces the tension... a subtle reminder of what is to come... Soon.
Cock and balls neatly packaged with a stocking, the sheer soft black nylon bites teasingly constance's exposed genitalia, enhancing his engorged cock, separating his balls. we engage in small battle against recalcitrant centimetres, fought and won in honour of the graceful Hourglass as I set to encase my creature in her corset, patiently tightening the laces and she holds onto the steel girders.
The bell rings for the second time as I zip constance's hood and a waft of adrenaline rises from the layers of lycra, satin and latex, adding to the already charged ambiance ... I smile as I fix the leather blindfold and tighten the leather straps that pin her to the Throne: Enigmatic, alluring, sexy and completely subservient, she looks at me through the darkness of the leather blindfold.
Three knocks. The door opens at my command and m von s ushers T on his knees.
It is the first time that m von s officiates as my butler for the Salon, thus expanding some of his duties to other males. His impassible and attentive composure is momentarily betrayed as a slight cloud passing over the otherwise pure darkness of his doe eyes when he meets my glance.
It's such a joy to see T with whom I don't get to play as much as I would like to! It has taken me months to organise the forced-bi between constance and him. I had a hunch that T, a natural thespian, with his wild, playful and utterly lascivious nature, would be the perfect counter balance to constance's coy, elegant and yet totally slutty inner-self. The afternoon promises to be interesting.
T is now strapped to the gynaecological bench for his cleansing, constance is bound to the imposing bondage throne and m von s follows the enema procedure.
I savour the moment: three males slaves in deliciously vulnerable positions.
Armed with brushes and make up, I set to tease out of T, the lusty wanton who lurks just behind the first layer of his skin, she sways with pleasure in her red silk knickers as she finally opens her eyes burdened by the lustrous false black lashes and smile a 'thank you Maîtresse' . Her auburn bob compliments her pale skin, her rouged nipples as hard as her ligatured cock, she totters with legs of crimson net and crimson patent vertiginous pumps.
The bell rings again... Our guest of honour, the delightful, the wicked Miss Meyers has arrived!
My 'girls' are now both kneeling for inspection, their forehead on the floor, their hands, palms up in devotion, their 'derrières' arched up in the air, their knees wide apart and their feet neatly together.
A soft rap at the door, and my gorgeous friend makes her apparition: elegant black flapper dress, snake peep toed pumps, her long shinny mane, exquisitely styled as she flashes an irresistible smile.
m von s pours the pale honey champagne and ..... Lets the bacchanalia starts!