Latex Slaves

In the dimly lit chamber, candlelight flickered across the walls adorned with whips and chains. Two young women, dressed in latex catsuits that hugged their curves like a second skin, quivered in the corner, their eyes wide with anticipation. They had been brought here against their will, trapped in a twisted game of submission and domination.

The door creaked open, revealing their captor, Mistress rotten purposes. She stood tall in her black latex bodysuit, her face obscured by a shiny leather mask. In her gloved hands, she carried a thick leather strap, her instrument of choice for this evening’s torment.

“What a pathetic pair you are,” Mistress Rotten Purposes hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. “Cowering like animals in the corner. You forget your place, my latex slaves.”

The girls whimpered, huddling closer together, their breasts heaving against the restrictive material of their catsuits. Mistress Rotten Purposes circled them like a predator, her heels clicking on the cold stone floor. She raised the strap, bringing it down across their backs with a sharp crack.

“Ahh!” They cried out in unison, writhing under the sudden impact. Yet, despite their pain, their bodies responded to the punishment, nipples hardening beneath the shiny latex.

“That’s it, feel my lash,” Mistress Rotten Purposes purred, relishing their moans. “You like that, don’t you? Admit it, you dirty sluts.”

“Please, Mistress,” the brunette gasped, tears streaking down her latex-covered cheeks. “We won’t forget our place again.”

“See that you don’t,” Mistress Rotten Purposes growled. “Now, present your asses for further chastisement.”

The girls shuffle forward, bending over to present their latex-encased butts. Mistress Rotten Purposes grins, raising the strap high before bringing it down again and again on their vulnerable backside. They yelp and cry, unable to tear their eyes away from the erotic display.

“A pleasure, isn’t it?” Mistress Rotten Purposes taunts. “Being taught a lesson by someone who’s so dominant. I bet this little play session has you wet, doesn’t it?”

Blushing, they confess it’s true, aching for more attention, more pain, more pleasure, Regret fills them instantly. How could their bodies crave such punishment?

“You’re just animals, in heat, begging to be bred,” Mistress Rotten Purposes sneers, “unable to control their base desires.”

She circles behind them, reaching out to grab their hair, pulling their heads back roughly. Her other hand slips between their ass cheeks, roughly stroking the zipper of their catsuits directly over their assholes. They gasp, trying to arch back against her touch, but she holds them firmly in her grip.

“I own your holes,” she hisses. “Your asses would be so tight around my cock if I let you have the privilege of being bred.”

They shiver at the thought, and she surveys the scene critically. They had been trained well, but they still had so much more to learn. And she would be the one to teach them.

“Enough for now,” Mistress Rotten Purposes sighs, releasing them abruptly. “Two more lessons, and you’ll be ready.”

The girls, breathing hard, slowly stand, rubbing their stinging asses. They look at their mistress with worshipful eyes, grateful for the punishment, and already longing for more. Mistress Rotten Purposes smiles slowly, her mind already churning with perverse ideas for their next session.

But for now, it was time to end this lesson. She dismisses them with a wave, watching as they scurry out the door, eagerness plain on their latex-slicked faces. The night may be over, but their training was far from complete. She would have them bent to her will, craving her touch, forever.

Mistress Rotten Purposes sits alone in the candlelit room, her mind swirling with twisted plans, plots, and schemes. The girls would never escape her. They were hooked, addicted, desperate for her to mold them into perfect slaves.

She thinks back to when she first brought them into her web, naive and unwilling. Now they wear their latex like a second skin, moaning and mewling at her slightest touch. Such is her power, her control.

Mistress Rotten Purposes smiles a slow, predatory grin. She had captured the girls’ minds, their bodies, and their very souls. They would be hers, forever, dedicated to filling her twisted desires. She shudders in delight, looking forward to all she has planned.

Standing, Mistress Rotten Purposes extinguishes the candles one by one, plunging the room into darkness save for the guttering flame of the final candle. She reaches for her coat and gathers the remaining stragglers, of course, taking the scissors to their delicate breasts. In a strange twist of affection, she releases the trapped hair and skin, relishing the soft pads of flesh and curving mass of pointed nipples.

Snipping cleanly, one after the other, she hums a deliciously macabre tune. Soon, only small latex mounds remain, mutilated tombs for the girls’ former glory. With a careless toss, Mistress Rotten Purposes kicks the pathetic pile away, watching it skitter across the floor.

In a final act of disdain, she grabs a whip and lashes out at the shredded pile. Pride surges through her. Her latex beauties had learned their place well. Few lasted long enough to retain their womanhood in her tormented hands.

With a smirk, Mistress Rotten Purposes leaves the room, eager to prepare for her next session. The night had been enjoyable, but darkness still shrouds over her wicked soul, and the flames of her twisted desires already burn hot once more.|