Professional Competitive Female Sadists
Two Pro Sadists were chatting. (Pro Sadists are hardcore pain Dommes who compete for prize. Dommes enjoy watching subtle and intense cruelty. The streaming fees are enormous.)
Mistress Impurity (her professional name) was complaining to Mistress Deity (likewise).
“I run through practice males too swiftly. I should restrain myself but the sight of a helpless male makes me want to savage his nervous system. Hurting men is what I’m built for. Seems as if I just started and – poof! – he’s gone. The major problem is the time wasted having slavers send a replacement male.”
“I understand your problem. Men are as fragile as pathetic. I’ve solved the resupply problem.”
“Follow me to my Under Dungeon.”
“I have two basements. This is below the space I use for torment tournaments.”
After walking down flights of stairs, the two Dommes entered a smelly, damp gray room.
There were five males locked in tiny tight cages.
“The slavers made a delivery just before you came over.”
“You buy five men at once?”
“My minimum purchase nowadays. You probably think it a nuisance to handle males in bulk.”
“Yeah. This room stinks.”
“Each male arrives in a special cage of my own design. Watch.”
Mistress Deity grabbed a dolly, shoved the edge under a cage. She pulled back, the cage rose, she rolled it to an opening in the wall.
She lowered the cage. Slid it in the wall. The male faced out. Its owner connected a tube rising from the floor to a device near the creature’s mouth.
The turned back to Mistress Impurity.
“I’ll shove the rest in place later. It does stink. Let’s go back upstairs. I’ll explain it all.”
Cups of fresh espresso made and poured, Mistress Deity spoke.
“After shoving him in, I’m done. Inside the wall, behind each cage is a waste removal device. The tube you saw me connect, pours slave slop into the man’s mouth.”
“So you just ignore them until you need a new practice dummy?”
“Yes. The stench is awful but I spend very little time in the room.”
“It must have cost a bundle.”
“True. Worth every penny. Do you want a copy of the plans?”
“Sure. This is the kind of housing men need.”
The women laughed. Then talked of things more important than men.