The Three Domme Night: Part 3[femdom][violence][piercing][tattoos][castration][femdom]

Ciarra stood in front of me, narrowed eyes and a devilish grin. I saw that she held a roll of what seemed like black electrical tape in her hand. I wondered what use she could possibly have for it, and my quandary was answered the moment it entered my mind.

“Time to get comfortable in this chair,” Ciarra gestured to the desk chair that still sat in the far corner of the room. “You’re going to be there quite a while.”

Not knowing what to expect, and falling deeper into submission, I hopped off of the bed. I darted across the room and sat down in the chair without hesitation. Of the three of these women, Ciarra frightened me the most. She had frightened me before they had taken me captive. I had seen her around campus and for the most part she was quiet and spoke only to her two friends. But, on occasion, I would see her screaming at some poor student that must have somehow wronged her. She would go on seemingly random tirades about feminism and how useless men are to society. I had turned on my heels and scurried in the opposite direction more than once as I came across one of her aggressive, public lectures.

This moment was far more fearful than any other. She was this violent, strong willed woman and I knew by her deathly stare that she enjoyed watching me suffer. She stepped toward me, twirling the roll of tape around her finger. She leaned down close to me, wrapping her fingers around the bottom of the seat of the chair. Her face was so close to mine, her deep, dark eyes gazing so far into my sole that I felt myself shudder uncontrollably. I was so lost in her eyes, it startled me when she dragged my chair across the floor and set me right in front of the side of the bed.

She sat on the edge of the mattress, her friends sitting cross-legged on the bed behind her. Ciarra yanked the edge of the tape from the roll and presented a long strip of shiny plastic tape. Bondage tape.

“Not a word, male slime.” Ciarra demanded, placing the end of the strip of tape around my wrist and wrapping the roll around my arm and the arm of the chair. She strapped me down tight and then bent down to rip the tape from the roll with her teeth. The plastic stuck to itself and I instinctively tested the strength by struggling against my restraints. I couldn’t move, not an inch. Within seconds Ciarra had wrapped my other arm and tore the roll away from the tape that held me.

After strapping both of my ankles to the legs of the chair, she wrapped the tape around my upper arms and chest, strapping me to the back of the chair. I was tied down, completely immobile. I could only open and close my fist and move my head back and forth. Ciarra smirked at her job well done, watching as I playfully struggled against the tape to no avail.

“Now that you have nowhere to go, I think it’s about time you learn your place in the world.” Ciarra sat on the bed in front of me, legs apart and elbows resting on her thighs.

I nodded in agreement, but Ciarra decided she would ensure my silence. She pulled a pair of panties from the drawer beside the bed, and stuffed them into my mouth. The fabric muffled any sound that I would have made and I sat helpless and gagged as Ciarra began her lecture.

“Do you have any idea why we turned you into the pretty girl that you are?” She asked rhetorically. “You men are all the same. You have had far too much power for far too long. You’re inferior in every way to women and yet somehow you think you have so much going on. The truth is, you’re fucking nothing. Every last one of you is scum! You’re useless to society and should be locked up and only used when we decide we want you. We should have free reign to do with you whatever we please, and today, that new world order begins, with you. Tonight, you are ours. You will finally give in to our superiority and give up any masculinity and delusions of power that you ever had.”

Cami handed Ciarra a metal box. Ciarra opened the box to reveal a small machine and several thick needles, each in their own plastic sleeve. My eyes widened and I tried to speak through my panty gag, but no words were audible. I struggled against my restraints but my body barely moved. Ciarra took one of the needles from the box and gently stripped the plastic away. She held the needle carefully so as not to contaminate it. Her two accomplices made their way to my side and ran their hands over my body. They ripped my chemise apart, tearing it from my chest and exposing my flesh. Ciarra had a subtle grin on her face and she leaned forward, dabbing at my left nipple with a damp cotton swap.

I shook my head and cried out for mercy through the fabric that gagged me, but I knew that nothing I did would stop her. This is more than I had bargained for. Submitting to Cami was easy, worshiping her beautiful feet, the humiliation of my own sissification, it was nothing that I couldn’t handle. Esme was vicious, the pain was difficult to get used to, but the sexuality of it allowed me to give in. But, this? This was too much. I couldn’t let this woman pierce me, to do God knows what to me that would leave me with a permanent reminder of my torture.

These thoughts, however, would not save me. Ciarra sterilized the needle and it happened. I nearly hyperventilated, gasping for air through my gag and begging in stifled mumbles for mercy as Ciarra penetrated my left nipple with the needle. I screamed and thrashed, nearly knocking over my chair.

“Now now, keep moving around that way and you just going to end up tearing the skin. There’s no getting free and you’re just going to hurt yourself. Stay still and it’ll be over soon. But by all means, keep screaming for me, bitch.” Ciarra smiled at me, pulling the needle away and quickly slipping a metal ring through the bleeding hole. She fastened the tiny ball to the ring and wiped away the blood, the disinfectant stinging my wound and making me whimper behind my mouthful of panties.

The piercing pain was almost more than I could take. I felt queasy and helpless. I clenched my fists and tensed all the muscles in my body as Ciarra and her friends watched me struggle with the agony. Their evil grins made my eyes well with tears and the realization set in that there was no way for me to escape this. She was going to torture me, and I had to sit here strapped to this chair and take every second of it while she revelled in my suffering.

“Now, isn’t that so much better? Time for a matching set.” Ciarra disinfected the other nipple and I clenched my teeth, awaiting the sting of the needle. “You know, all men should be pierced. You all need to feel what pain women can dish out. Men really are the most useless pieces of shit and we need to hurt them to assert our well earned dominance!” She stabbed at my right nipple, piercing it and replacing the needle with another ring.

I bit down on my gag and tried to breath through the pain. My moans and cries of suffering just made Ciarra smile and when she had finished fitting the ring into my right nipple, she pulled out another needle. What else was she going to pierce? My mind wandered for a moment until I realized she was reaching down to my crotch. She grabbed the waist of my white panties and with one swift, smooth motion, she ripped the panties apart, exposing my limp manhood that hung between my parted thighs.

“Time to give you a nice reminder that your disgusting, oppressive genitals belong to a woman now.” She dabbed my scrotum just below the base of my cock with the disinfectant cotton swab and pulled the plastic away from the needle. I shook my head, pleading for mercy with my tear filled eyes. Ciarra just narrowed her eyes and stared into mine with an empowered gaze. She brought the needle down to my sack and as much as I wanted to struggle and fight, I knew that if I moved I could end up with a far worse injury.

I sat as still as possible, completely silent except for the sound of air being sucked through the panties stuffed in my mouth. Ciarra’s eyes were fixed on mine and her disappointed frown frightened me even more than the sadistic smile that she had worn throughout the day. There was something she wanted. She wanted blood, she wanted pain, but the one thing that she wanted more than anything, was to hear me scream.

“No screams for me, you scared little girl? No fear? Everything I give to you and you can’t even fucking give me some fear!” She was grinding her teeth as she spoke and her anger was palpable. “I see you have a high tolerance for humiliation, good. A high tolerance for pain once you get into it. Well then, I guess I’m gonna have to give you something real to be afraid of.” With this, she replaced the needle in her hand with the machone in the box. A tattoo gun.

I shut my eyes tight and slowly shook my head back and forth. These piercings could one day be removed, but a tattoo was permanent. I knew she wanted me to be afraid, and this was what did it. I couldn’t imagine being branded by this woman but she was determined to turn me into her slave. I screamed for my life, the sound barely audible through my panty gag. I struggled against my restraints and tried to shift my chair backward, with no luck. This was what she wanted. Ciarra smiled again, a disturbing pleasure washing over her face as she watched my fear grow.

“That’s more like it.” She grabbed the arms of my chair and pulled me close, looking into my eyes and giving me a wink before pressing the needle of the tattoo gun to my bare chest. Screaming in fear and screaming in pain are very different, and Ciarra loved hearing them both. The needle pierced my flesh and stung as it penetrated my skin over and over. The pain was intense but it was the torment of being branded that made me holler the loudest.

I looked down at the thin black line that was forming down my chest, tiny specks of blood spreading around the tattooed area. I tried to beg for mercy, to cry out for help, but the pained moaning and the cries of agony made her shiver in ecstasy. She bit her lip and dragged the gun down. I was too worked up to even care what it was she was writing on me, and after what seemed like an eternity in this hell, my tears blinded me. I couldn’t think through the pain and I was soon in and out of consciousness. I had flashes of Ciarra’s wicked grin, her black eyes glaring at me, the sight of the needle jutting in and out of my chest, and then, it was done.

The blackness lifted for a moment and I was staring at Ciarra who now sat satisfied on the edge of the bed. She looked at me, a disturbingly calm expression stretching across her face. I blinked my tears away and looked down at the finished work of feminist art that Ciarra had branded me with.

‘SLAVE’ was scrawled across my chest in crooked black writing. A permanent reminder of what they had made of me. I whimpered and sobbed as I stared down at myself. My tears dripped from my cheekbones and streamed down my blood splattered chest. Ciarra let out a subtle chuckle and leaned in toward me.

“You are the first to be forced into submission where you belong. But, you’re transformation isn’t over yet. You worthless male pieces of shit need not only to learn your place, but to accept your fate. You are genetically inferior to women and it’s engraved in your biology to be the sick pigs you’ve always been. There is only one way to make you the submissive, obedient little slave boys that you need to become.”

Ciarra pulled something from her box that I couldn’t comprehend. A small scalpel. She held it in her hand, waving it back and forth in front of me and snickering as my eyes followed it left and right. What the fuck could she possibly do with that? What would she do to me now? I couldn’t imagine what she could want to do to me with a scalpel, talking about forcing me to submit and be obedient. Soon, she would explain.

“All you pitiful little boys ever do is jerk off and treat women like your toys. Well, now you get to be the toy. It’s time we turn you into a useless little shell of a man. I’m going to take away all your desire, all your masculinity, at least what little there ever was. I’m going to destroy every trace of sexuality you ever had, and turn you into my submissive cuck slut! Obeying every single command and bowing down to your dominant Queens!” She brought the scalpel down to my genitals and I finally realized what she had planned.

I finally screamed so loud and hard that the panties that had gagged me throughout this ordeal were spat across the room. My mouth was free and I couldn’t let this psychotic Mistress castrate me.

“No! For fucks sake what in the fuck is wrong with you! All of this is too much, it was once thing to humiliate me and dominate me and even cause me pain, but what in the fuck is this?!” I screeched at the top of my lungs, trying any way I could to stop this from happening. “Please! For fucks sake come on! You can’t castrate me! We’re in a god damn dorm room you can’t cut into my balls!! For christs sake stop, now!” I knew right away from the slap across my face that making demands wouldn’t free me from this disturbing fate.

“You think you can make demands of me you little fuck toy! This, this is exactly why you male scum need to be castrated, to put you in your place. To make you the perfect sub toys that you were always meant to be. You belong to us now, and this will ensure you won’t ever fight back again. You. Are. Nothing.” Ciarra pressed the scalpel blade to my testicals and I knew that my only hope was to prove I could submit without this destructive step.

“No, no! Ok! Ok ok ok…I’m yours! I swear to fucking God I will never be that male scum again Mistress. I swear to you, I’ll always obey you, all three of you. All women! I’ll be the most submissive, obedient slave you will ever see!” I begged and assured her. “I’ll obey every command, everything you ask for the rest of my life I swear to you, I’ll do it! I’ll dress up for you, I’ll worship you, I’ll let you pierce and tattoo me and use my body for every perverted fantasy and desire you have! I’ll be your dirty little sissy toy, and I swear to God you will never need to castrate me because I’ll never give in to any of my filthy male desires! I am yours! Your little girl. Your slave. I always will be, Mistresses. I promise you that.”

For a moment, I truly thought that my declaration had convinced my captors of my loyalty. I was sure I would be spared the pain of a dorm room castration and would be set free to obey on my own terms. I was wrong. With one last smile, Ciarra cut into my scrotum with precision and purpose. The cold steel sliced through my flesh and I let out a high pitched wail of terror and agony. My suffering was short lived as darkness fell over my vision. I blacked out almost immediately and awoke several hours later, hair drenched in sweat and makeup smeared across my face.

I looked around the empty room, my room. I was laid across my own bed and I sat up slowly. My entire body ached, stabbing pain in my head and genitals, sensitive skin around my chest and nipples to remind me of the day I spent captive. The piercings, the tattoo, it was all real. I sat in bed for a moment, naked other than the collar that was still strapped around my neck. I closed my eyes for a moment, hesitant to be sure of what I fear the most. I reached down and cupped my sack only to find my testicals had both been removed. A large scar was stitched down the front of my scrotum and tears immediately welled in my eyes. She had done it. She had castrated me right there in the dorms and discarded me back into my room unconscious and useless as a man.

I swallowed hard and sat for a moment as the realization truly hit me. I was theirs. I would now always belong to them. My Mistresses. And somehow, I knew, that this is what I was meant for.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/b0mfio/the_three_domme_night_part