What the Client Wants, The Client Gets

What the Client Wants, the Client Gets
Written by Djinntrix



As a professional switch I am equally well suited to towering above your worthless self as you clean my boots with your tongue;  Or mewing through my ball gag as I stand teetering on the six inch heels of those same boots while you lash me with a whip.  The sweet smell of my body oil mixed with the intoxicating scent of quality leather is nothing short of delicious.  Add my favorite perfume and my allure builds.  My body is virtually hairless since I always get fully waxed every month.  Oil massaged into my skin after every shower means I am smooth as silk.  A fact that my clients very much appreciate and admire me for.  I work out and run every day so my body is lithe and athletic.  My figure is lean but sculpted and I am incredibly strong.

Today my client is special.  A woman who adores dominating sissies.  She says she is frustrated because they never look convincing enough.  Also they are afraid to go as far as she wants.  Her darkest fantasy is the subject at hand.  She wants a man.  (In my case a bi gender) Dressed in a slutty outfit but very beautiful.  She wants to restrain the sissy slut with tight straps and cuffs.   Then, while her victim squeals in terror, she wants to hang them.  She wants them to mount the gallows.  Read them their crime and sentence.  Watch the fear in their eyes as she pulls the hood down over their face.  Then tease them until their horror is unbearable and finally spring the trap. After a little though and research I named my price to make her fantasy come true.   The best part is she negotiated with me.  Offering a few extra items at her expense to make the scene more on point with her minds eye.  Also she offered serious bonus money if I agreed to let her make me orgasm during the game.  I, of course, declined that part explaining to her that I am a pro and I follow the rules.

The truth is I love breathplay.  I have always fantasized about being hanged: or for that matter hanging a willing victim.  I would have done this scene for much less.  Still a girl (or bi-gender) has to make a living.  I have actually got a very good understanding of erotic nooseplay.  I am lucky enough to have a friend in Connecticut that is, in my opinion, the greatest Domme and Hangwoman who has ever strutted the Earth - -  Studying her work has lead to a better grasp on how this particular game is played.  Not to mention the inspiration for a lot of great scenes!

It took a few weeks of prep and planning.  I had to arrange for a pair of my favorite security contractors for safety.  One of my loyal shoe slaves built the gallows for me at my downtown studio in return for wearing a pair of shoes he bought me for the day then giving them to him.  I hit the gym first and did not wash my feet before wearing them so he was well pleased.  I charged my client half up front with the balance due on “execution night”.  That more than payed for all the arrangements.  On the night of her session I sent the car for her at a local shopping center.  My driver settled all the financials before delivering her to the studio as per usual.  She was wearing a long black coat to cover her very convincing costume.  Beneath the coat she had on a long sleeve white blouse with a black corset.  Tight leather pants and knee high boots.  She wore fingerless black leather gloves and her nails were long and red.  Deep crimson lipstick with black eye makeup made her a very imposing form indeed.  Her black hair was tied back in a ponytail.  She really was the true image of a very sexy executioner.  Only one thing was missing but we will get to that in a moment…

I was equally well dressed.  A leather corset so tight that I was practically breathless already.  Leather panties under a really cute, and way too short, leather skirt.  Fishnet stockings hugging my long legs.  Long black leather gloves that stretched all the way up my arms.   Long silky blonde hair and great makeup.  Dark red lipstick with a bit of glitter on it to give me that perfect pout.  The one so provocative that even I want to slap me.  Completing the image were my personal favorite: a pair of black six inch heels with my dark red toenails peeking out trough the open toes.  One look at her face told me I had lived up to her desires.

I strode up to her my hands outstretched in greeting.  “Good evening darling.”, I purred.  “For the next few minutes before the scene begins we may both speak freely.  Once the game begins we will remain within our roles unless you choose to stop.  Is there anything you would like to change before we begin?”

She smiled and laughed nervously, “Oh no Mistress!  Everything is perfect… so very perfect.  Like you were inside my mind!”

“Excellent!”, I happily replied.  “I have furnished you with an assistant.  She will help guide you in your role to make the scene play out perfectly.  My other associates are here for safety and will not interfere with us unless truly necessary.”

I told her how stunning she looked.  Then I gave her a wrapped gift saying, “This is a little something extra I felt you deserved.”

She smiled and sat down on one of my comfortable chairs.  She then opened the wrapping like a kid on Christmas.  When she opened the box she let out a startled gasp.  Her eyes were bright as she stared at the contents.  A fitted black leather mask.  Designed to cover her face from the nose up.  An executioners mask.  I smiled and knelt beside her taking it from her hands.  I raised it gently to her face and pulled it over her head slipping her ponytail through the opening at the back.  “There!”, I said.  “Now you are ready to take your rightful place.  Shall we begin?”

She looked deep into my eyes and smiled. “Yes”, she whispered in reply.

I rose and walked over to her.  Then I lowered my eyes and softly said, “Then now mistress, I am yours to do with as you please.”

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She rose and took my arm.  A dark smile playing across her stunning face.  Her hand slid down my arm.  She raised her other hand and snapped her fingers.  On cue her assistant placed a pair of leather cuffs in her hand.  I did not resist.  I knew my place.  I allowed her to wrap the cuff around my wrist.  She moved with confidence tightening the cuff and lacking the buckle.  Then with a touch that was part caress and part firm grasp she pulled my other arm behind my back and secured the other cuff.  No turning back now.  Tonight… I would swing for my wicked crimes…heh.

“I want no interruptions from you.”, she said in a firm voice.  “Your fate is sealed and there is no one that can save you.”  To guarantee my silence she snapped her fingers again.  The assistant placed a red ball gag in her hand.  Knowing that a completely willing victim is also a boring one I chose to offer a bit of resistance.

“No mistress, please!  I am innocent!  You have to believe me!  I swear I…aghh!”, That was as far as I got.  She was still behind me and she wrapped her gloved hand around my mouth.  Squeezing firmly, her thumb slipped over my nose and she began to smother me.  I gasped in surprise, which was a very bad mistake, and struggled against her grasp.  My fight did not last long.  The gasp wasted precious air and when I tried to inhale all I received was the smell of leather.
“Now, are you going to behave?  Or shall I just suffocate you and secure you after you pass out?”  The snarl in her voice told me she meant it.  With a little smile under her glove I relaxed in her grip.  She was getting her monies worth from me.

With a little shake of her hand to ensure my compliance she eased her grip.  I sucked in a ragged breath with no time to spare.  Using the opportunity my open gasping mouth presented she shove the ball in place and pulled the straps tight.  She fastened the ball gag and tightened it.  So much for begging for mercy.

Now cuffed and gagged I was truly hers.  Taking my arm she lead me to the gallows.  I gave a little struggle on the steps.  Shuffling my feet and resisting like a good, panic stricken, condemned prisoner.  Trying to plead through my gag with the usual “Nooooough!” and “Pfeeeese!”.  The sound of my gagged cries and the clatter of my heels on the steps filled the room.  She was loving it.  It was an inevitable struggle which I would ultimately lose and thirteen steps later I stood atop the gallows.  My executioner holding me tightly and her eyes, fierce behind the executioners mask, looking upon me in pure triumph.

Once she had me on the gallows it was a small matter to position me on the trap door.  The assistant was there beside her holding two leather straps.  My executioner took each of them in turn.  Wrapping one around my elbows and fastening it tightly.  Another around my knees.  As the restraints were added and tightened I felt my freedom slipping further away.  

Then she took another pair of leather cuffs from the assistant and kneeled to wrap them around my ankles.  Unlike the wrist cuffs which were locked together she added a short chain between the ankle cuffs.  She wanted to see me dance a little.  Finally she took a length of chain and used it to connect my wrist cuffs to the ankle chain.  No reflex reaching for my neck for me.  The chain shocked me so much I actually forgot this was my gear and my plan!

I stood there on the gallows.  My ankles shackled.  Barely able to remain atop my towering heels.  My knees and elbows strapped together as well.  Hands behind my back leather cuffs tight around my wrists.  The cuffs locked to each other and also the short chain leading down to my ankle cuffs.  I was absolutely helpless to escape.  

————————————————

She stood back.  Admiring her handy work and her victim.  I dared look into her eyes at that moment.  What I saw was pure accomplishment.  She finally had the stuff of her darkest desires before her.  Her confidence was practically gleaming.  Damn, I love my job.

Standing tall she turned her back to me and, taking a paper offered her by the assistant, she began to read…  

…. That she did knowingly and without remorse… (Wow, I am suuuuch a bad girl. heh..)  … As befits the nature of her crime it is decided … (Here we go.  Almost time.  I am actually getting into this! )
…. For these crimes you are hereby sentenced to be hanged by the neck until you are dead….

There it was.  Convicted, sentenced and now…. the rope.  Here.  We.  Go!

——————————————————————

My executioner strode up to me.  Her heels clacking out a rhythm on the gallows platform.  She ran a fingernail gently over my lips around the tight ball gag.  Having already read the charges I knew I was only seconds from the terrifying darkness of the hood.  The rope, thick and soft, dangling next to my face.  At it’s end the noose.  Coiled into the famous knots like a snake waiting to strike.  With a sinister curl of her lip she reached out and took hold of the noose.  Then with pure satisfaction she lifted it over my head.  

I have played in so many scenes with my clients.  Some as the Sub.  Still more as the Domme.  I know the game and the rules well.  It is rare that I genuinely fall into a scene as the sub.  Generally I play my part so that my client, as dom, can fulfill their desires.  That being said nothing… and I mean nothing could have prepared me for the surge of terror that passed through me when she slid the noose over my head.  When she tightened it my entire body began to shake.  It was horrifying and exhilarating at the same time.  Fear mixing with anticipation served to push me down into my sub space.  I sank and sank hard.  With one last defiant moan I let everything go and surrendered to her.

The executioner reached around my head and removed the gag tossing it from the gallows.  She placed her hands lightly on my shoulders and leaned in close to whisper in my ear.  “Now for the fear to come little slut.  I have a secret to share.  You see I had a long talk with your assistant before we began tonight.  I paid her very handsomely to allow me to actually hang you.  The guards are loyal to her and thus to me.  This really IS your execution and I am really your executioner…”

Before I could react she reached down and took the black leather hood from her pocket.  Then as I started to struggle she laughed and kissed me on the tip of my nose.  With a final curl of her lip she slipped the hood a top my head and pulled it firmly down.  Everything went dark.  I was helplessly bound, and hooded.  I was doomed and about to be hanged!  Actually Hanged!!!

I tried to scream.  Tried to beg.  The gag was gone still nothing but mewing noises escaped the hood.  I tossed my head back and forth trying to escape but it was completely dark.  I had ordered the hood myself and tested the fit.  It was not going to slip off.  I writhed in my bonds and twisted against the cuffs.  I pulled at them but the chain connected to my ankles gave me no room for movement.  I could hear my heels clicking as I tried to work my feet free of the cuffs.  Oh fuck, that was NOT in the plan.  She cannot be serious…can she?  No, no my assistant has been with me for years.  No way she would do this… would she?

Fear.  Real fear was taking over.  My mind already deep in my role was playing tricks on me and I was totally falling for it.  I was panicking.  Seriously panicking and I fought like a trapped animal.  I struggled harder than I ever had.  It was no use though.  My gear was top notch and there was no chance.  There was only one way out and that was on the end of a rope.

Suddenly I heard it.  The clack of her heels as she crossed the gallows platform.  Oh my god the trap!  She was going to do it and second.  Then I felt the slack of the noose begin to go away.  The assistant was taking out the slack.  My muffled screaming reaching new levels as the noose tightened.  I was pulled up on my toes.  Hardly able to breath and desperately trying not to fall over in my heels.  The tips of my heels clicked and scraped as they just barely touched the trapdoor.  My logical mind knew the slack was being taken out so I would not drop and injure my neck.  The problem was my logical mind was getting a serious ass kicking from my panic driven imagination.  This was it!  Any second I was going to swing.  Any moment she would pull the lever and that was that.  I had to get free!  I couldn't get free.  I had to try!  Maybe if I can reach the cuffs with my fingers I could get the locks loose and then I could… Aaaggghhh!

The executioner, her breath ragged in her excitement, pulled the lever.  The trap door that held me dropped away.  In it’s place was nothing except for two feet stretching to reach a footing that was no longer there.  Before her hung the slut.  A strange gurgle coming from beneath the hood.  Her body twisting and writhing as it slowly spun.  Her feet dancing… Yes! That was the word.  Dancing on air.  Moving to a terrible rhythm of terror.  The tempo set by a frantic heartbeat.  Her fingers opened and closed frantically occasionally grasping at the chain and pulling on it.  Her hands trying to lift to her throat but stopping as the chain snapped tight.  The kicking of her dancing feet as they stretched to find something to stand on worked directly against the hands as they tried to reach her neck.  Oh how sinister that chain and cuff setup was!  The beautiful creature really did know her art…..

The victim, gasping for air but getting only a small amount.  Felt the trapdoor fall away from beneath her.  She tried again to take a breath but nothing.  Out of instinct she screamed.  All that escaped her mouth was a strange gurgle.  That moment was when the full realization took her.  She was bound tightly, the hood wrapping her in darkness and she was dangling on the end of a rope.  She was hanging.  Every inch of her sparked to life.  She writhed and twisted in her restraints harder than she ever had in her life.  Her feet kicked wildly.  Somewhere there had to be the floor.  There had to be.  Where was it!  Her hands opened and closed frantically.  Her fingers flew trying to undo the cuffs locking her in this horrible trap.  She had to get to the rope.  Had to have air!  Her hands fought harder.  Her feet kicked harder.  In her terror she did not realize that the chain, connected to her dancing feet, kept her hands from reaching her neck…..

The Executioner watched with rapt attention as the victim twisted on the rope. As she fought against the endless grip of the noose the executioner looked on in awe.  She was almost completely overcome with lust watching this willing victim kick her life away on the gallows.  The victim fought and fought.  Twisting.  Kicking.  Her struggle intensifying as the seconds ticked away.  Then suddenly her whole body shook violently.  Then her feet lifted and her hands flew towards the rope.  She snatched at it but missed.  Her feet lifted again.  So high that the heels on her feet hit her bottom.  Again her hands leapt towards the noose and again they fell short.  She struggled again.  More feebly this time.  Now as she writhed her hips slowly bucked forward and back.  Almost like grinding into an unseen lover.  Her body shook again, much harder, then she fell back to the struggle though not with much strength.  The executioner looked at the assistant who nodded.  It was time….

The victim, completely out of air, continued to fight with all she had.  She tried again to breath.  She felt the leather of the hood sucking tight against her mouth.  No air came though.  As she kicked and fought she was aware of a heat growing between her thighs.  In this trap of pure agony it was the only thing that felt good.  She kept fighting.  She had to reach the noose!  Had to have air.  With all her strength she reached for the noose.  She felt her feet lift towards her bottom and her hands moved towards the rope.  Nothing.  Her hands felt for the rope but it was not there.  The heat kept growing.  It was hard to ignore.  It felt so good and the noose hurt so much.  She made a desperate grab for the noose again.  This time she kicked her feet up so hard her heels smacked painfully into her bottom.  It hurt but she was totally oblivious to that lesser pain.  The heat grew even stronger.  Oh god it was incredible!  She was done for.  There was no escape.  No more air.  She still fought her bonds but no longer intentionally.  Her attention had turned to the heat inside her.  She felt herself moving with it.  Her hips bucking into the heat.  Her fracturing mind forgot there was such a thing as air.  Then it hit her.  The building heat exploded in a wave of intensity that hit every nerve.  Her silent, airless scream never left her lips but she gave it none the less.  With a final weak kick of her feet she sank into the aftermath of that explosion.  For a moment she felt like she was falling.  Then she felt nothing.


——————————————————————

When I opened my eyes there was light.  I could see.  I was no longer trapped in the dark.  I could breath and air had never tasted so good.  I was laying on the floor in my studio.  No longer bound and my heels were gone.  Above me was my assistant.  She was smiling at me.  Also the client stood there as well.  Gone now was her mask and she too had a smile on her face.    “How do you feel Mistress?”, they both asked, almost in unison.

“Like the devil just bit my ass.”, I replied.  “That was…. an experience.  Remind me to kick both your asses later for your little really going to execute you ad lib”

They both laughed and the assistant went to get me some water while my client helped me up.  She handed me my shoes.  “You were absolutely incredible!  You kicked so hard that one of those actually hit the wall on the other side of the room!”

“I must have meant it.  I would NEVER treat my heels like that normally.”

“I am pretty sure you did!”, she said with a clever little smile.  “I thought you said I was not allowed to make you orgasm.”

I gave her a little kiss on the cheek and sighed, “Ah well,  Nobody's perfect.”

Technically that was all my fault anyway.  yup, sorry…not sorry heh.  That felt freakin amazing!

Laughing we walked back to my couch and sat.  We spent the rest of the evening reliving every moment of the experience.  Enjoying each others company and the incredible events of the night.