Return to Mirkada

This is a sequel to 'Day Trip to Mirkada' in which academics Sally and Mark Frost were introduced to the unusual customs of the city.

Chapter 1: The Invitation

I moaned into my gag as Sally squeezed my aching balls.

'Don't be such a baby,' she chided. 'We've only been at this for an hour.'

It felt a lot longer than that and my shoulders ached from the bondage. It wasn't strict, certainly not compared to the tight restraints I used on Sally but then any woman who's had a child will tell you they can take way more pain than a man. I was standing with my wrists cuffed to chains that hung from one of the beams in our bedroom, my arms spread, held just above shoulder height. My ankles were also cuffed, locked together by a short chain. I was naked apart from a collar.

Before she'd cuffed me I had helped Sally into her vilisqaz, the bodice and leggings at least and, of course, the toe boots and now she stood before me, several inches taller, a dominatrix worthy of my utter devotion. I wondered if any man could resist the opportunity to kneel naked and collared at such a woman's feet before could resist the command to strap her into such a beautiful garment: the collar, the tight straps around her breasts, the little waist cinching corset with its tight crotch strap; to buckle each strap of the leggings down her long slim legs and then fasten the toe boots in place.

No wonder my cock stood alert in salute to her.

After I'd finished dressing her, I could see she was excited, wanted the rest of the garment: the tight single sleeve that pinned her arms behind her; her elbows touched easily now after two years of wearing it so regularly. I knew she wanted the bridle too with its gag and blindfold, an opportunity to lose herself in helpless and delicious bondage, give her body up to the submissive desires that had been brought to life in our visit to Mirkada.

She had, however, resisted.

'You've been a very naughty boy,' she had told as she began strapping me into bondage.

She had told me the same thing several times this evening.

'After what you've done, you deserve a lot more than an hour in a bit of light bondage.' She stood beside me, tall and slim, her toned body packaged tightly in its leather straps, my elegant dominatrix with her impossibly long legs and lovely large breasts, held in cones now by the straps of the vilisqaz, her nipples clearly visible at their tips, stiff and erect like my drooling cock.

She was being a little unfair in her judgement of me but I was not really in a position to argue even if I wanted to.

I wasn't to know her presentation had been delayed.

She slapped me hard on the bottom and my cock twitched.

'Have you any idea what it's like standing in front of the vice chancellor trying to convince him that he should give you a chair with a vibrator buzzing furiously inside you?'

I hadn't.

She slapped me again.

'I asked you a question, Slave!'

I shook my head.

'I imagine it's a bit like you giving one of your lectures with me kneeling behind the lectern giving you a blow job as you try to speak.' For emphasis she grasped my cock and milked it gently.

'Can you imagine trying to concentrate while I work up and down my your aching shaft with my mouth and tongue?' Her lips were very close to my face, her breath warm on my cheek. As she spoke she worked her hand up and down my shaft making me drool.

I moaned again into me gag.

'I can see you might have some insight into my position.'

She slapped me again and I nearly came, my cock twitching, a fresh string of fluid dripping from its tip.

'Ooohhhh! Naughty boy!' She squeezed my cock. 'Way too soon for that.'

I looked at her, excited by the saucy smile she couldn't quite keep from playing across her face.

She crossed to her dresser, beautiful and elegant on her toe boots; and I watched the sway of her taught buttocks, the strap of her vilisqaz disappearing deeply between them. She picked up a pair of nipple clamps letting them dangle over her finger, displaying them as she walked back towards me, fully aware of how she also displayed her body; her slim, corseted waist, her breasts jutting out towards me, her wicked smile. She lifted the clamps opening one to show me the little toothed jaws and then rubbed the tips over my left nipple.

'These really are pathetic.' She pressed the tip of the clamp harder scratching my nipple painfully. Absolutely nothing to grab hold off.'

I looked at her. She was so stunningly perfect at this moment I knew I would allow her to do anything to me.

'Not like mine.' She moved the clamp to one of her own nipples, teasing it and I actually felt disappointment that she might not use it on me. 'Tell me, do you ever think how much it hurts when you clamp my nipples?' She closed the clamp gently around her own nipple. 'What I endure when you lead me to bed by my clamped nipples?' She tugged on the chain. 'Do you ever think how painful it can be to wear my nipple pendants for your pleasure all day and half the night?'

I knew she didn't wear them entirely for my pleasure.

She released her nipple and placed the clamp around my own, ensuring she took a good bite of flesh.

Then she added the second...tugged the chain.

I nearly came again.

'Mistress just asked you a question, Slave!' She tugged on the nipple chain.

I shook my head. I had no idea what it was.

She pulled harder on the nipple chain drawing me towards her.

'You should know that I'm planning to keep you in bondage all night, complete with nipple clamps.' She gave them a little tug. 'Would you like that, Slave? Would you like to spend the night chained at the foot of my bed, with a plug in your butt and clamps on your nipples, chained up by the neck, lying there in bondage, hogtied perhaps, gagged and blindfolded while your mistress sleeps peacefully?'

She squeezed my cock.

I nodded.

'You really are a pathetic little slave...'

I nodded again, aware I was blushing.

'But I can be a kind mistress too.' She held my balls, squeezing gently. 'Would you like a chance to redeem yourself?'

I nodded.

'Good boy.' She smiled her most bewitching smile. 'So, in a moment I'm going to cuff your wrists behind your back; then I'm going to make you kneel down; then I'm going to sit on the bed and you're going to crawl to me and beg me to let you worship me and then, if you do that, I'm going to undo my crotch strap and let you show me just how sorry you are for the terrible thing you did to me this morning. Understand?'

I nodded, smiling behind my gag.

It was at that moment her phone rang. Sally frowned and I assumed she'd ignore it but then she grinned.

'Don't go away.' She gave my balls another squeeze and turned away giving me a chance to watch her tight bottom. Sally is sexy walking in heels but in toe boots I would defy any man not to ogle the way she sticks her bottom out.

I watched her walk to the door pausing deliberately to bend down and pick up the cane she had used on me earlier showing my how the thin strap between her legs barely concealed her pussy.

As she stood, she turned back and smiled and then walked out into the hall.

I sighed into my gag with pleasure.

*

'It's Salaxis.' Sally came back into the bedroom holding the phone to her ear. She was still carrying the cane. She smiled at me and then spoke into the handset. 'Mark? He's a little tied up at the moment.'

A pause.

'Are you trying to tell me Taiarche isn't?'

Another pause.

'I thought so.'

She listened again.

'Yes, he usually does but I like to ring the changes sometimes.'

She laughed.

'Yes, but tonight it's a little bit more than 'topping from the bottom'.'

She tucked the phone under her ear and flexed the cane.

'Alright, but he is gagged so it might be a rather one-sided conversation.'

I blushed as she listened.

'That sounds interesting.' She toyed with the chain between my nipple clamps. 'Let me ask him.' She looked at me; she was still holding my nipple chain and, as she spoke she was winding it round her finger, tightening it.

'Salaxis has commissioned a documentary on Mirkada and he'd like you to be involved, give a historical perspective.' She grinned. 'He's willing to pay for our flights and a week at the Munro.'

She winked. We'd both longed to go back to Mirkada but somehow with our work commitments hadn't quite managed to organise it.

'You can say no if you want to.' She pressed mute then jerked on my nipple chain pulling me towards her. 'But Mistress will be very disappointed with you.'

I nodded.

She turned off mute. 'Yes, we'd love to. I mean he'd love to.'

Mercifully she released my nipple chain.

'Friday? Dinner. Yes, we'd love to see you.' She walked behind me. 'Wouldn't we, Mark?'

I looked round. 'Eyes, front.' She struck me with the cane. 'Mistress asked you a question, Slave.'

I hoped I was on mute. I nodded.

'Come over at about seven.'

She struck me again.

*

'Go on, you know you want to.' I could see Sally's excitement mounting.

'It's a little early.' She looked up at the clock.

'I'm sure we can find a way to pass the time.' I wanted her dressed.

'Well, if you insist.' Sally tried to hide her smile. 'You know what to do with the dinner.'

'Yes, I know.' I refrained from adding any comment about being her galley slave.

'Alright.' Sally turned to allow me to undo her dress and then slid it down over her hips to reveal the soft grey vintage style lingerie she liked to wear.

'Are these new?'

'Nice of you to notice.'

One of the joys of her internet lingerie shopping is that we receive regular emails from lingerie companies advertising their garments. Sally was currently rather partial to 'What Katie Did.'

It also meant that I knew what was coming and could comment on it; though in most cases I would probably have noticed anyway.

I undid her bra.

'Sir is too kind.' She slipped it off and then slid out of her knickers. She'd recently returned from an archeological dig near Seville and had a beautiful and, surprisingly, all over tan.

I hadn't asked how.

'Perhaps you'd help me with my stockings.'

I needed no further request.

Sally's vilisqaz, her first, is in red leather, soft and pliant now after two years of regular use. Over those two years since we bought it I, we, have developed a ritual for dressing her. We always begin with the little corset, cinching Sally's slim waist; then comes the collar and, as I buckled it in place she automatically lifted her lovely thick dark hair, much longer now than it had been when we had first travelled to Mirkada; we didn't usually use the locks but tonight was special, a visit from the friends who, perhaps somewhat unwittingly, had introduced us to a world of pleasure after a chance meeting in a distant hotel. Though we had kept in touch by phone and email and met twice when Salaxis was in London on business it was the first time they would come to our home.

Sally wanted to look her best and I thus locked the collar and coset in place as was correct for a Mirkadian lady. She had, I knew, been in touch with Taiarche a lot more regularly than I had with Salaxis.

The straps around her breasts came next, the conework of straps that lifted her large breasts, making them jut out before her, displaying her nipples which, when she was dressed like this always seemed to stand out like bullets. When I had first started to dress her in the garment, I had bound her arms before applying the breast straps, largely to give me the opportunity to handle her lovely sensitive breasts freely but, as we had enjoyed this sort of intimacy more regularly, I had realised that Sally liked to settle her breasts into the straps, something that made her more comfortable, particularly if she was to wear the garment for a long period. I did, however, always enjoy helping her and always got to fasten her nipple pendants in place.

With her breasts secured, I applied the chest straps, tightening them, particularly the ones over her shoulders; this was important to hold her corset firmly when I strapped her leggings in place. The toe boots came next; again doing this with her restrained had been a pleasure but not always practical and, even now with her being perfectly comfortable on the precipitous heels she struggled to balance as I dressed her; I thus let her have her arms free as I buckled and locked the little ankle boots in place, and then worked my way up her legs, adjusting each strap around Sally's lovely toned calfs and thighs. The leggings were held in place by buckles on her corset that looked rather like the suspenders she had just removed.

Now I was ready to restrain her. Sally knew this and, without being asked, slid her hands behind her back to accept the single sleeve or monoglove as they tended to call it in Mirkada. The red leather had once been stiff enough to hold her arms more firmly, especially when she had strained to get her elbows to touch but now it allowed more movement, stretching over her skin though leaving her just as helpless. The monoglove required lacing and, as always took time to adjust properly.

I have read that one of the pleasures of bondage, often rope bondage which takes time to apply, is that the dom and sub spend time together, enjoying an intimacy that is sometimes lost in the busy modern world; it is a time, assuming one is not bound by rules that enforce silence, where intimate secrets can be shared and, even if there is a power balance, it is an opportunity for a submissive or slave to request permission to speak.

The same is true regarding the dressing of a woman in a vilisqaz, it cannot be rushed and, over the two years since we had bought it, moments like this one had brought us far more closely together, brought an understanding of each other and each others' needs that many couples, perhaps, do not ever find.

It had certainly given us an opportunity to explore our sexual inclinations to a far greater degree than before and, while we had practiced bondage before our trip to Mirkada where we had bought the garment, we had not enjoyed it to anything like the degree to which we did now.

'Happy?' I ran my hands down the outside of Sally's monoglove; enjoying the smooth soft leather; her elbows were touched easily now.

'Very.' Sally gave a soft sigh and I reached round to hold her against me, my hands running up to her breasts, toying with her nipples.

She sighed again, pressing herself back against me, her head turning, lips caressing the side of my face and my hand slipped down to her sex.

'Gag me first.' Her voice was soft, breathy, a clear a sign of her arousal as the stiffness of her nipples of the wetness of her sax.

I helped her down to her knees and took up the bridle, reaching over her head to lift the large red ball into her open mouth and settling it into place between her teeth; then I buckled the straps into place behind her head and under her chin before pulling the upper part over her eyes and fixing it into place.

Her arousal was even more obvious now, her breathing irregular, deeper, her chest and face flushed. I could smell her body's response.

with her now gagged and blindfolded, I gently guided her to her feet, steadying her and then attached her leash. We were in the bedroom and it was only a few steps to the bed but I wanted to do this properly. Sally was almost fully dressed, helpless, delicious, trembling with excitement. The crotch strap could be applied later and would get in the way for what was coming next but the nipple pendants needed attaching.

She gasped as I clipped each one to her hugely swollen and very sensitive nipple. I might have thought that, with all the clips and clamps I had used on her she might have become used to the little pendants that I so enjoyed seeing swing from her nipples as she moved but somehow, each time, her nipples seemed more rather than less sensitive.

I took up her leash and kissed her gently on the lips, stretched now around the large ball in her mouth. She responded by pushing herself against me: lips, breasts, sex.

When kept like this she could barely control her needs, this eloquent, erudite woman gripped so utterly by her base desires that she allowed herself to become my sexual plaything.

I lead her to the bed, no more than a few steps and she followed obediently, probably disappointed that she was not to be made to walk further on the leash. Such sentiments were perhaps not those of the Mirkadians who maintained that the vilisqaz said more about the respect that should be offered to a woman wearing one, a women who needed to be waited on hand and foot, who could not be made to work, but was there to be idolised, worshipped, adored.

Laying her down beside me I held her close, enjoying the firmness and warmth her body, my hands running over her skin. She parted her legs and I stroked her sex.

She moaned again and I remembered how she had chided me less than a week ago, our roles reversed. I considered teasing her now but in her beautifully submissive state she was in a world of ecstasy and I didn't want to spoil that; perhaps the wisdom of Mirkada was right afterall.

As I withdrew my fingers, wet and sticky from her sex she moaned into her gag but rather than push her hips forward she seemed to struggle in her bonds. It took me a few moments to realise she was trying to roll over. Sally enjoys being held with her back to me as foreplay and sometimes after sex too. When she is helpless it gives me free access to her nipples and her sex and feeling her squirm as I tease her gives me huge pleasure.

I thus helped her roll, and held her as close as her bound arms would allow but it soon became clear she was after a little more and she bent forward thrusting her bottom back against me.

'Daag.eee!' She seemed to be saying 'take me'.

I continued to tease her, toying with her nipples but she was insistent.

'Bleeassh! Daag.eee! Shuuuggg.eee!'

'Are you asking for anal sex?' I couldn't believe it though I was excited at the prospect.

She nodded vigorously thrusting herself against me.

Well, if you insist.

'Mmmmmm!' She nodded for emphasis.

We'd done it a few times before, part of our sexual journey over the previous two years but it had never been that good. Sally enjoyed me using my hands on her nipples and sex as we coupled and I certainly appreciated the tightness of her anal ring but she always seemed a little uncomfortable and I was always alert to the possibility of hurting her; even if I might spank her from time to time.

It seemed she wanted to give it another try.

My cock was stiff and the tip was very wet; entering her was not a problem and the tightness around me was wonderful.

I felt her thrust back against me and tried hard not to respond too forcefully though the urge to thrust into her was almost unbearable. Almost as a distraction, I began to play with her nipples but this did not have the usual effect.

'.aaadaaa.' Sally thrust against me. She had definitely said 'harder'.

I pushed into her feeling her bottom push up against my balls.

Sally gasped and pushed again.

It was a delicious sensation the tight ring teasing my cock, utterly stimulating and yet her grip firm enough each time I withdrew to stop me climaxing too. I was in ecstasy, thrusting firmly, almost withdrawing as Sally lay submissively allowing me to pleasure myself in a completely new way. There are some that might say I was a little old for my first true experience of the pleasures of anal sex but all I can say is that it was worth the wait.

Caught in a tide of sexual pleasure, I began to tease her again, hoping she could enjoy the moment as much as me and soon had her panting but it was clear she wan't going to cum.

'I'm going to cum.' I told her gently and she nodded, moaning softly through her gag.