Method Acting Ch. 05: Miscues

Dakota

The frustration Dakota felt leaving the massage parlor had reduced from physical and sexual to just emotional as they made the drive back to Mistress Samira's house. Dakota had hoped her mistress would give her some sort of relief. In her head she'd even wondered if she'd be asked to try to service her mistress while driving, but Mistress Samira was either intentionally ignoring her state or genuinely had something else on her mind. That meant Dakota was left trying to process the wild mess of emotions she felt.

She'd already admitted to herself that if Mistress Samira had ordered it, she would have serviced Mr. Toma. She was also somewhat shocked when she figured out she would have preferred fucking him, though when she thought about it that made sense given she was trying to deal with her own horniness. But if she'd been told to suck him off she probably would have done that.

What she struggled with was the why. She was self-aware enough to know that if someone had suggested she suck off a guy in payment for something she would be pissed off, and that included if Mistress Samira ordered her to. She had teased Dakota the other night, telling her she would make Dakota greet the food delivery person naked and then suck them off. She hadn't actually told Dakota to do it, but Dakota remembered feeling angry at the idea.

That hadn't happened this time. Was it because Mr. Toma had personally massaged her, and she felt closer to him? Was it because her mistress had specifically said it was an "extra' so it didn't count as paying? Or was it just how horny she had been?

Or was she okay with it now just because it was one of Mistress Samira's orders? Had she been indoctrinated and made that docile in less than a week?

Was Mistress Samira right about her? Was she truly a submissive?

The questions and uncertainties kept her mind busy until they pulled into Mistress Samira's garage. After they got in, she was told to go wait at the bottom of a set of stairs she'd always passed by but never really thought about. It was only as she stood in front of it that she noticed the door was metal.

Mistress Samira came down the stairs behind her after a few minutes and handed her a protein fruit smoothie.

"Drink that," she said, "That may end up being your dinner. We'll have to see how things go."

It didn't taste bad so Dakota didn't have a problem drinking. She was fascinated watching her mistress, though.

Mistress Samira stepped up to the door and seemed to stare at it for a while. Then she brought a key up to the deadbolt lock set above the knob. It took her more than one try to get the key lined up, and then she paused again before turning it.

"Are you all right, Mistress Samira?" Dakota asked.

"I'm fine," she snapped back. With a forceful twist, she unlocked the door, then pulled it open.

Dakota followed her in and felt her eyes widen.

When she'd first heard about the film, despite Pascal warning her away from it as a bad source for what he intended, she'd watched the 50 Shades of Grey movie.

Where Christian Grey had his red room, ironically, Dakota would say Mistress Samira had a gray room.

The floor was smooth cement or concrete. Because of her viewing the movie and some other research she'd done out of curiosity, she recognized some of the furniture in the room, though Mistress Samira's versions were different. In the movie and in many pictures and a couple of videos she'd seen, most of the furniture had featured a lot of dark wood and (at least in the movie's case) red padded surfaces.

Mistress Samira was apparently not a traditionalist. There was a large "X" frame in the room, but where Dakota expected thick wood beams, Mistress Samria's seemed to be made of thin plates of metal with a black surface and gray outlines. There was a sawhorse-type piece with a thin padded bench on the top but again it was gray and plain metal. A plush couch or chair of some kind was upholstered in gray as well, and two standing cabinets on opposite walls were both gunmetal gray. There was also a simple steel frame that looked almost like a set of uneven bars at the Olympics, but much smaller. The base of it seemed sturdy though, and there were two more poles that ran the length of it fairly close to the ground. There was no art or decoration on the walls, though there were several large mirrors that made the space seem bigger.

"This room has been closed up for a long time," Mistress Samira said, then walked over to an actual closet and opened it. "Cleaning supplies are in here. I want the place cleaned up by nine. If you finish, you may have a snack before bed. If you do not, there will be consequences."

Without any further instructions, her mistress turned and walked back up the stairs. Dakota wasn't sure, but it seemed like looking at the room made her uncomfortable.

Dakota understood the request; the room smelled a bit musty and there was definitely dust and cobwebs all around. In the closet she found all the standard tools for cleaning. Looking at them, she blushed as she realized that if her mistress had told her to clean with the items in the closet two weeks ago, she wouldn't have had a clue how to get started.

Actual life skill acquired, yay me!

She was most of the way through mopping the room, her mind wandering. As she cleaned around the various pieces of furniture, she couldn't help imagining how they would be used. The cross was obvious, especially, again, since she'd seen a few BDSM videos and the crosses were a key feature in a lot of them. She didn't have any clue about the metal frame with the uneven bars, guessing there were other things that needed to be attached to it.

Then she started mopping around the sawhorse-type item. There were shelves, of sorts, on the legs, and they were rounded and padded. When she looked closer, she saw they could be adjusted higher or lower, and they could tilt. It took until she was cleaning from a different angle for it to click in her head.

She couldn't help her curiosity. She looked around quickly but the door to the stairs was still shut, and she didn't see any cameras or anything. She put the mop back in the bucket, then moved over. She put one leg on one of the "shelves" and it settled into the curved surface comfortably; the inside was padded with foam or gel. Then she put her hands on the thin bench in the middle, which was also padded, and swung her leg over like it was a bike. Her other leg settled in just as nicely.

The position put her crotch a few inches above the bench, so all her weight was on her legs. The padding meant it wasn't uncomfortable, but the balance wasn't great. Then she remembered the other "shelves."

It's like a racing motorcycle.

She leaned forward, lowering herself slowly so her chest rested on the padded bench. It was thin enough that her breasts fell to either side of it. When she was fully down, she could bend her elbows and rest her arms on the curved shelves. She didn't think that was right, though, because while her legs fit snugly in their place, her elbow felt like it was almost too big.

Then she remembered what the purpose of the room and the furniture was.

Dakota arched her back more and stuck her ass up. Shifting back with her body to do it meant her forearms went into the holders and her elbows were just below, and that fit a lot more comfortably. It also meant she was completely on display, as if she'd gotten into Presentation Two, but higher up.

If a guy walked in, he probably wouldn't even have to bend his knees much to fu-

A sound like a gunshot echoed around the room and Dakota yelped. She started to get off of the furniture.

"DO. NOT. MOVE!"

Sam

Sam stood at the bottom of the steps, watching the tail of the eight foot whip wriggle on the ground.

Princess was posed on the bench, the jewel of the metal plug in her ass sparkling in the light, the pale skin of her body glowing. She was the image of a delectable sub, mounted ready for devouring.

Sam had come down the stairs and opened the door quietly. The hinges on the door had been expertly fitted and frequently lubricated when the room was used regularly. Even if the oils had long ago dried up, the hinges themselves were coated in silicone so they made almost no noise. Similar modifications had been made to the cabinets, which is why she'd been able to retrieve her whip without her princess noticing. She was actually shocked she'd gotten a crack out of it; the leather was stiff and almost cracking from lack of care. She'd probably have to replace all of them.

Or she would have if she intended on using them.

Right now, she desperately wanted to use it. The white, upturned ass of the girl on the bench was so tempting. The orgasm she'd gotten in The Don's office hadn't dampened her desire; it had inflamed it. Putting red lines on the pure unmarked flesh displayed in front of her would be an exquisite pleasure.

But Princess wasn't ready for that. Not even close. Which is why she'd grabbed the flogger as well.

But there was nothing like a whip crack for intimidation.

As the echo of the second one died off in the room, she said, "Did I instruct you to test out the furniture, Princess?"

"I-I'm sorr-"

*CRACK* "Answer the question I ask!" Sam snapped.

"N-no Mistress Samira," Princess said.

"Why, then, are you on the bench?" Sam demanded.

"I... I was curious about what it was for," she admitted.

"Well, then, I'll show you," Sam said.

She took the four rings she'd retrieved from the cabinet and clipped them around Princess's arms and legs, just past where her limbs sat in the cradles. Then she pushed a button and the rings slammed into the holders with a metal clang.

"The supports are actually electromagnets," Sam said, "and those rings I put on you are... metal! The magnets are rated for three hundred pounds, so you won't be able to move them. Now, I had come down here because it was time to remove your day plug before dinner. Let's do that shall we?"

Princess was still breathing heavy, near to panting, as Sam gripped the flange of the plug and pulled. She moved it slowly, watching as the girl's sphincter spread around the chrome metal finish and listening to the groan she let out. She caught a quick glimpse of the deep pink interior of her princess's ass before the pucker closed up, but even after she clenched there was a slight gape left.

"And now we'll try something a bit different," Sam said.

She pulled out a different plug. It was plastic and black. She coated it in lube and aimed it.

With Princess's hands otherwise occupied, she had to pull the girl's ass cheek aside to get a good view of her asshole. As always, Sam marveled at the firm but sensually soft feel of Princess's ass and caressed it a bit as she held the girl as open as she could.

The toy was slightly larger than the plug her princess had been wearing, but the bulb to be inserted was roughly the same shape. It didn't have as much of a point at the tip, however, and Sam heard Princess let out a loud puff of air and groan as she tried to join the girl's asshole and the toy.

After not making progress after a few seconds, Sam slapped her hand on her ass and said, "Push out, Princess; you know how this works by now."

"Yes Mistress Samiraaaa," the girl replied groaning as Sam pushed harder.

The bulb got halfway in that time. It was coated silicone so it didn't slide out as easily as the metal ones. Sam pushed again as Princess groaned and finally got it in far enough. It looked like Princess's asshole swallowed it up as the anal ring closed around the black bulb.

"How does that feel?" Sam asked.

"It's fine, Mistress Samira," Princess replied, sounding a little breathless.

"And how does this feel?" Sam asked and then pressed a button on the remote in her pocket.

Princess immediately jerked against her restraints. "Oh! Oh God! Uuuugh it's... oh god what's in my ass? Mistress Samira?" she added at the end.

"That, my princess, is an anal vibrator," Sam explained, "and it's one part of this little training session. Now you get to make a decision."

Sam walked over to one of the other cabinets, opened it, selected two things, and then walked over so her princess could look at her. She held out her hands and saw Princess's eyes go wide.

In one of her hands she had a dildo made of clear plastic with a black handle at the bottom. It wasn't anatomically correct except for the head; no human man she knew of had round rings every inch or so down the length of their cock, though it was only six inches long so it was sized right.

In her other hand was a much more anatomically correct dildo that was even flesh-colored, albeit only Caucasian flesh. However, that dildo was ten inches long and half again thicker than the other dildo.

"Pick one," Sam directed.

Her princess looked up at her in disbelief, then down at the two options, then back up to her a few times."

"Choose quickly, Princess, or I choose for you," she said.

"That one!" she blurted, then quickly added, "Mistress Samira."

Sam smirked as she walked around behind her princess. She paused to admire the now bright-red handprint on the pale ass from where she'd spanked Princess earlier. Then she coated the clear dildo in lube and lined it up.

There was only resistance because of working the dildo to the right angle, and Sam "missed" and ended up rubbing the dildo around her princess's pussy a few times before actually inserting it.

"Ohhhhh Goooddd ohgodohgodohgod shiiiiiit!" Princess moaned out as the toy slid deeper.

Sam would be willing to bet all of the money offered that this was the girl's first experience with double penetration. It wasn't true double penetration according to most people, but Sam thought it counted whenever you had something in each hole at least the size of a cock, and the two toys lodged in her princess just then qualified.

"Here's what's happening, Princess," Sam explained, "You shirked your duties to sate your curiosity. I'm helping you fulfill that curiosity. What you're on at the moment is either a bench or a sawhorse or a mounting station, depending on who you ask or who you shop from. It's very versatile, especially mine, because you can secure someone so many different ways and have them perfectly positioned for fucking."

"As you've already been able to tell, it puts all your holes on display for easy access. If I had a cock for you to suck, your head is also well positioned for that. One of the main ways this piece is used is to have the sub take on two people at once; the person in front is given oral, and the person in back has access to your ass or your pussy already roughly at thrusting height. You don't have to worry about holding yourself up; you can just lie there and enjoy."

"But of course, to both of our disappointments, there are no cocks to be had. What we do have are vibrators."

Sam fiddled with both the remotes she had in her pocket and Princess's head snapped up, her mouth open in shock and her arms pulling against the restraints as she tried to straighten up.

"Both of them! Both of them are going! Oh holy fuck, I'm.... I'm gonna... Ahhhhhh!"

The scream at the end was not Princess orgasming, but her crying out in pain as Sam hit her on the ass with the flogger she held. She walked forward and held the handle with the bunch of short leather strips so Princess could see it.

"This is your punishment and your training, Princess. I will turn on these vibrators. You will start building towards an orgasm. When you're about to go over, I will turn off the vibrators and hit you with this."

Sam saw her princess's entire body slump as she thought about the torture she was about to endure; to be denied orgasms and inflicted with pain at the same time.

Sam moved and squatted down in front of her princess. "Listen to me Princess," she said intently, "This will keep going until you cum. And you can cum. There is a connection between pain and pleasure. Pain releases endorphins. So do orgasms. Eventually the two start blending and you can latch on to the heightened endorphins from being hit as easily as you can from someone stroking your clit. This is called 'subspace'. You will not get there today. But I believe you can get close enough to cum for your mistress."

"I... I will try Mistress Samira."

Dakota

What the shit was my fucking safe word FUUUUUUCK!

Dakota let her head hang off of the bench. Her hair was so drenched in sweat it looked like she'd just come out of the shower. Her skin felt glued to the bench, and the padding had only done so much against the regular pulling and straining Dakota had done against her restraints.

Those were all minor issues though, compared to what was going on below her waist.

The anal vibrator was just that; a vibrator in her ass, nothing more, nothing less. But she was so unused to anal stimulation it had ramped up her horniness quickly.

The toy in her pussy was something else. Each ring she'd felt going into her pussy was actually its own vibrator, along with the head of the device. When her mistress activated it, the rings and head vibrated in sequence. After a little while, it had felt almost like being fucked.

Whatever it resembled, it felt great in her pussy, and she had to admit having the vibrator in her ass going at the same time pushed her toward cumming faster than anything except the magic wand.

And then Mistress Samira would flog her.

She'd long ago lost count of how many times her orgasm had been snatched away by the powering down of the vibrators and the sting of the damned flogger. Then Mistress Samira had added the tingling gel, producing more sensations in Dakota's body.

She was desperate to cum. She'd listened to Mistress Samira tell her to focus on the sensations and the intensity, not the pain. But there was pain, and every time it completely killed the bliss the vibrators were working her toward.

Or at least it had started that way.

Dakota had lost all sense of time. The vibrators seemed to be on for mere seconds and then it seemed like there was a full minute between them shutting off and the flogger striking. Then it would seem like the flogger struck and that started her working toward climax. It also seemed like sometimes the strikes weren't as hard. The sharp stinging became a dull ache that was only slightly worsened with later strikes.

She eventually got so stimulated and went so long without cumming, it felt like the vibrators were always on. Dakota panicked. In her first experimentations with masturbating, she'd overdone it and made herself numb. If that happened, her mistress would beat her ass until it bled. The vibrators felt constant, so the sharp spikes of sensation from the flogger spurred her pleasure higher.

"Yes!" she finally cried out after being hit.

"Yes, Princess? You want this?"

"Please Mistress Samira more! I need more to cum, please!"

The vibrators kicked on. Her ass and pussy sang in rapture. Her nethers vibrated. They kept vibrating. A sharp crack hit and there was a surge of sensation, but it wasn't enough.

"Please Mistress Samira I need to cum! Please make me cum!" she begged, her tears of frustration cooling her overheated face along with her sweat.

Vibration. Pleasure. Building pleasure. Spike of feeling. Let down.

"Please. Please I need it so badly!" she begged. She forgot to call out her mistress. She might have done it on purpose to get a harsher strike.

Vibration. Pleasure. Building pleasure. Bulding pleasure. More building pleasure. Pain. Pain from denial. Pain that needed release.

"PLEASE!"

Suddenly she felt a sharp spike of pain that came right from her clit. Like breaking a dam, every bit of pleasure she'd felt building suddenly rushed into her body.

Dakota cried out, screaming as the thunderous orgasm totally overwhelmed her. It felt like she'd jumped into a pool of the tingling ointment as all of her skin lit up with everything she could feel; hot, cold, goosebumps, tickling, shivers. Inside her, her pussy clenched so hard from cumming that it ached.

Suddenly Dakota was falling, but hands gripped and stopped her. She distantly heard clinking metal, then a warm body surrounded her and held her as her skin kept going wild and she spasmed from aftershocks of the orgasm.

She finally remembered. "Fair-weather." She wasn't sure if she said it. She wasn't sure of anything. It felt like her brain had disconnected from her body, because her body had stopped working; it had overloaded and could no longer feel sensation. She just rested against the warm embrace, drifting in a sea of semi-conscious bliss where she didn't have to worry about her pesky body feeling things anymore.

She also seemed to be having trouble breathing. Then again it could have just been her panting from the orgasms...

Sam

Sam had half a mind to pull her shirt off and use the flogger on herself like a religious flagellant.

She'd been overcome with nostalgia, hubris, and a few other things Greeks wrote plays about that turned the night into a possible disaster.

By the time she'd realized Princess was in some sort of a feedback loop where she couldn't relax enough to get to subspace, it was too late. She'd figured the only way out was through, so she kept the cycle of the vibrators and pain going. By the end her face had been red, veins popping out, and she could see Princess's limbs straining so hard against the restraints it was cutting off blood flow. She'd been legitimately worried the girl was going to have a heart attack or an aneurysm.

She honestly wasn't sure if the flogger strike on her pussy was on purpose or if it had just been a stray strand from the flogger. That was a problem all on its own; she'd lost control in the middle of a scene. That was how people got hurt.

That was how people ended up permanently broken.

The orgasm scared her almost as much; it wasn't an intense orgasm so much as a climax combined with a panic attack. Princess's muscles had clenched so hard the toys literally shot out of her, along with a huge stream of liquid. It hadn't been a squirting orgasm, though; Princess had lost bladder control from her body going completely haywire. If she hadn't insisted on the girl doing regular enemas, and if she hadn't skipped lunch, she probably would have expelled even more. She'd been thrashing so much Sam was afraid she'd smack her head on the bench and concuss herself, which she almost did anyway when Sam stupidly released the restraints and the girl practically jumped off of it from the muscle spasms.

Sam had held her and spent minutes keeping her from hyperventilating, then waiting until the shaking and crying and the tension eased. She'd taken Princess to the shower to wash up but she didn't think the girl was aware of it. She'd tucked the girl into her bed and come back down to clean up.

She'd told herself that Princess wasn't even close to ready for subspace and had then tried to push her there anyway. Well, not tried, exactly. She'd started out trying to make it an orgasm denial exercise, but she'd been impatient. She hadn't wanted to repeat what had happened in her bedroom and just let the stimulation peter out naturally. She'd wanted to speed that up. Suddenly being in pain tended to shut down orgasms.

Until you do it for so long that the pain endorphins start mixing with the sex endorphins and then you either float away into subspace or tense up so much in frustration that you break something you stupid, ignorant cunt.

She punctuated the sentence by kicking over the mop bucket, spilling the soiled, soapy water everywhere.

For a brief moment she wanted to leave it there. Just turn around, close the door, lock it up again, and throw the key into the woods.

Then Sam sighed, picked up the mop, righted the bucket, and started soaking up the water.

She'd made a mistake. There was no getting around that. She would apologize to Princess, do something nice for her to make it up to her, and then reassess. She was a project manager. If there was a setback, you didn't cancel the project; you took stock of where things were, evaluated what your resources and options were, and found a new path forward.

Sam was still a liability as a dom, obviously. But based on evidence, it was only advanced play and scenes that caused her a problem. Melinda hadn't broken because of some light spanking or being told to wear a remote controlled vibrator in public. Sam just had to refresh herself on what led to more advanced situations and stay away from those. She probably shouldn't use anything more advanced than her crop and paddle, really, and then only for clear punishments. And no more pain and pleasure mixed in the same scene.

The girl was being trained for a movie role, for fucks sake; what did she need to know about subspace or testing pain thresholds? It wasn't like she was training to be a "real" sub/slave anyway.

Sam sighed as she squeezed the mop out again. She just had to be more careful going forward. She was pretty sure Eli wouldn't release the $400,000 if the girl ended up dead.