This six-chapter adventure for W began when a mysterious painted lady emerged from his lake. Her plea forces W to come out of retirement and judge a very kinky contest at the Decennial Competition of Masters and Slaves of the Greater East Coast BDSM Association. This third chapter is WhipMistress Sierra’s entry in that contest.
WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
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Chapter Three - WhipMistress Sierra
I don’t like surprises. I especially don’t like surprises when I know that lives are on the line. So when Master Arnold and Master Amani strode out to GrandMaster Karl and immediately began a heated conversation, I was especially attentive. I could see GrandMaster Karl’s mouth and could catch a word or two. Lip reading is a skill I picked up early in life and it has been useful many times. In fact, it saved my life once, but that is a whole different story.
GrandMaster Karl was repeatedly saying, “You cannot withdraw.” Then I heard Master Amani’s voice, identifiable by his slight accent, yell out, “I can do what I damn well please.” Then in an even louder voice he exclaimed, “There is no way I can today match such an exquisite presentation.” He paused and then said even louder, “But if I have to practice for ten years straight, I will come back next time and show you a MUCH more exquisite display.” His voice dropped in volume and tone as he quickly finished with, “But as I said, not today.” With that, Master Amani and Master Arnold stomped back into the shadows.
“Well,” GrandMaster Karl said loudly, trying to regain control of the situation, “It seems we have a slight change in program.” He looked into the shadows and asked, “WhipMistress Sierra, are you still in this contest? And are you ready to go on slightly early?”
A woman’s voice answered from the darkness, “I am always ready for the unexpected... and so are my slaves.”
In response, GrandMaster Karl called out loudly, “Then I present to you WhipMistress Sierra!”
The lights dimmed and it looked like stagehands were moving a dozen or more golden statues into the center of the performance area. I struggled to make out the black clad stage hands in the dim light, then I realized that the statues were moving on their own. As the lights came back up, twelve naked, gilded men were standing in a perfect circle about an arm’s length apart. Their feet were solidly planted about a hand-width apart with their toes facing straight forward. All hair had been removed from these men’s bodies from the neck down before the gilding– whatever it was– had been applied to their bodies.
They were each holding two very long candlesticks positioned at an angle out forward from their bodies as if they were spears. The base of each of the long candlestick holders was on the ground touching the very front of their foot. Their arms were held stiffly forward so that the candles tilted inward and formed almost a giant crown in the huge circle. The candlesticks and candles were gilded in the exact same color of gold as the bodies of the twelve naked men.
They were standing motionless and if I hadn’t seen them enter, I would have believed that it was indeed a circle of statues into which WhipMistress Sierra entered. She had a strong voice, made even stronger by the sound system as she slowly turned to examine the crowd and then said loudly and firmly, “I am WhipMistress Sierra.” She emphasized the word “Mistress” as if she was claiming her rightful place among WhipMasters. That was probably a constant fight for her. Our community is very welcoming, but at the same time often set in its ways. Mistress Sierra was the first woman I had encountered who claimed the title of WhipMaster... I mean WhipMistress.
She was dressed in a golden, skin-tight catsuit with an open face hood. The small golden cat ears on the top of the hood appeared to be metal. They were shiny and just a slightly different shade of gold than the rest of her outfit. Perhaps they were real gold. Mistress Sierra’s immense wealth would have allowed for that.
Her feet were enclosed in gilded boots that exactly matched her catsuit and the color of the statues. They appeared to be made of soft leather and came up almost to her knees. Only her hands and her face were exposed... though with the tightness of the catsuit, you might say that her entire body was exposed. In back, the suit cut all the way into the cleft of her ass and in front, it was so tight that you could tell that she had a full bush between her legs. Up above, her clearly discernable nipples were large and full, though they did not seem to be engorged and stiff. All in all, she was one hell of an erotic living statue.
Her whips were shiny black all the way to the tips which were gilded in the same color as her outfit and the male slaves. Perhaps completely gilding the leather of the whips would make them handle differently or unreliably, and for her performance, it was imperative that her whips responded exactly the same with every thrust and snap. Or maybe it was just that the contrast of the black whips against all that gold emphasized the presence and action of the whips.
She continued, “You all saw WhipMaster Wu extinguish eight candles with extreme skill.” She paused and then said, “In fact, his skill was so impressive that Masters Arnold and Amani both withdrew from the contest.” She chuckled lightly and then said with great firmness in her voice, “I do not back down. And so, with equal... or even greater skill... I will LIGHT twenty-four candles for you.” She paused for just a moment and then continued, “Then I will extinguish those candles. And finally, I will provide you with a little dinner music.”
I wasn’t totally sure what she was going to be doing, but I was absolutely sure that it was going to be a difficult choice for the judges to *********** the final winner.
She moved her whips slowly back and forth with her arms held almost at her side. When the whips were finally moving like snakes in the air, she suddenly shot one whip forward and with a loud “Snap!” one of the candles was lit.
It’s an old magician’s trick. You make a liquid colloidal solution of white phosphorous and a light oil. Then you dip the candle in the solution until the wick is saturated. Immediately, you encase the exposed wick in wax and set the candle upright so that the oil can flow down into the candle. After the wicks were encased, Mistress Sierra may have even used a centrifuge to force the oil down the wick into the lower part of the candle, leaving a residue of white phosphorous on the tip of the wick. Expose it to air and “Poof,” your candle is lit. It’s dangerous to prepare, and you have to handle everything with extreme caution, but it works spectacularly well.
The murmurs from the crowd indicated that they were impressed. The whips snaked for a moment and then one of them slashed out behind her. “Snap. Poof,” and another candle was lit. This repeated again and again. I suspect that Mistress Sierra is left-handed because it was always the right hand which snapped forward and the left hand which snapped to the rear. Since a rear thrust and snap requires greater skill and dexterity, her left hand is most likely her dominant hand. If both were slashing forward, I doubt I could tell the difference.
Mistress Sierra continued lighting the candles at a steady pace until all twenty-four candles were lit. She then turned completely around with her whips held out to her sides. As she turned, she was smiling broadly and bowing repeatedly to acknowledge the applause. I also noted that her nipples were now longer, stiffer, and engorged. She was definitely enjoying the way her presentation was going.
After the WhipMistress had made a complete circuit and made eye contact with almost everyone in the crowd, she brought her whips upright in front of her and called out, “Rosetta Position.”
All dozen of the naked, golden statues moved their hands outward so that the long candlesticks crossed with the stick of the golden man next to them. The result was that the crown shifted and now looked more like a rose that had not fully opened. The tips of the candles were much closer together than they had been in the other position and after a moment, WhipMistress Sierra showed why that was. She slowly turned while striking out simultaneously with both whips. Twelve times she repeated that difficult action and twelve times two candles were snuffed out.
The applause was deafening. While the WhipMistress was bowing to accept the applause twenty-five naked female slaves came running out and entered the circle. Each slave pulled one of the candles out of the candleholder and then holding it over their shoulder to support the weight ran back out of the venue. One slave left empty handed... or had she picked up something? On their way out that slave stumbled against a table and tumbled to the ground. When she got up, whatever she was carrying was gone.
“Penetration, penetration, penetration,” I whispered into my lapel microphone. A deep base voice responded, “Saw it. Will take measures to contain.”
The slaves running from wherever outside the building weren’t security checked as they entered. Obviously, an extra slave slipped into the crowd and ran with them. An after-incident report– assuming everything doesn’t totally go sideways– will have to address that security weakness.
The naked female slaves returned. This time there were only twenty-four of them. They were in pairs carrying a cloth-wrapped something between their shoulders on a long pole. A stagehand dressed in black accompanied each pair. Meanwhile, the naked male gilded statues had taken three steps backward to enlarge the circle and the spacing between them.
The naked female slaves scurried around the enlarged circle until one pair of slaves was standing in front of each gilded man. The stagehand then guided golden posts which dangled beneath the cloths into the candlesticks where the candles had been held. The naked, gilded men were again standing with the candlesticks in the forward position so whatever was under the cloths was now fully supported by the two candlesticks. Once all of the bundles were in place, WhipMistress Sierra called out, “Set!” and one of the female slaves in each pair pulled the long wooden pole they had used to carry the bundle out from what was apparently a hollow pipe. At the same time the other slave carefully lifted the cloth cover to reveal golden bells handing from gilded chains. Some of the gilded men were holding two large bells while others were holding three slightly smaller bells. One gilded man held four much smaller bells.
Mistress Sienna looked out at the crowd and said, “Any good orchestra has to check if they are in tune.” Then she rapidly snapped her whips out to strike the various bells in the circle. It wasn’t a tune, but it did sound very much like an orchestra tuning up.
“Enough tuning,” she said firmly, and then called out, “Upper octaves to the circle!”
Twenty-four naked female slaves came walking rapidly out into the spotlights. I really doubt these were the same slaves as before because these naked females were totally hairless, including the hair on their heads, and were gilded in the same way as the men were. There was a jangling as they hurried in. It actually took me a moment to see the golden bells which dangled from each naked slave’s nipples. It took even longer to see the slightly larger bell which dangled from their clits. All of the bells seemed to be held in place with small golden butterfly clamps.
Two female bell carriers stood between each of the gilded men. They stretched their arms wide to the sides and stood with their feet wide apart. Their arms were braced against each other’s backs and the backs of the gilded men. Soon, the entire circle became one completely intertwined circle of bells.
The voice of WhipMistress Sierra spoke almost softly. “I believe,” she said, “that I promised you a little dinner music.”
With that, she began playing the bells with her whips. It was a little difficult to hear the tune over the slight snap of the whips, but it was definitely Mozart’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, more commonly known in English as "A Little Night Music" obviously the WhipMistress couldn’t continue with the complete song, but she did repeat the very well know introduction three times before stopping and bowing in the center of the circle.
It was complete silence for perhaps a full minute and then the silence was shattered by applause as almost everyone gave a standing ovation to the performance. I was supposed to give a final score on a one to ten scale. After several minutes of muttering to myself and checking my notes I said, “Screw it,” and gave her the same nine point eight score I had given WhipMaster Wu.