You Know Who You Are (NSFW)

Normally I do not share the details of private domination sessions outside of my SL family, but I make an exception today because the subject of this tale- the victim- derives great pleasure from public humiliation. By publishing my account of our night together, I am dominating her still, this story a permanent and obvious record of her fate at my hands. I have changed her name here because it's not important. What matters is that she sees this and remembers that dark night in June. Also, please note that this story is graphic and violent- it is not necessarily representative of a typical "night at Wildefire's" or SL domination at large.

I took some of the girls out for a night drive in the country. My Dominus roared down the Linden roads through unfamilar lands, and after coming around a bend I noticed a young woman standing alone in the dark by the side of the road. The car slowed to a stop and I beckoned her over.


She had been there waiting for a date, but he never showed. Her sister had dropped her off there, but being out of cell phone range, the poor thing had no way to call anyone to pick her back up. She was lucky we'd found her. When I offered to drive her home she reluctantly climbed into the back seat of my car. I made up fake names for me and all my pets and introduced them as my "co-workers," explaining that we had just been out for an after-hours get-together. We learned that our passenger's name was Cindy.


As we sped down the country road I asked Cindy if we could make a little stop by my place. She agreed- how could she protest? Of course she had no idea that even if she'd balked, it was already too late- by accompanying me and my "peers" she had already sealed her fate. Cindy appeared a little apprehensive when I parked outside the remote stone silo I claimed to be my home, but at my friendly insistence she nervously followed us inside. I locked the door behind us and couldn't help grinning at her shock upon seeing a naked, gagged girl chained to my wall, struggling in terror upon our return. I forced Cindy to her knees and the girls stood guard while I dealt with the hanging captive. Knowing the girl would scream and plead I removed her gag so that there was no doubt my prisoner was there unwillingly. I believe as the trembling, bound girl pled for her freedom Cindy understood the dark times now ahead of her.


The hanging girl and I traded words, for some time, but when I tired of the argument I produced my concealed dagger and waved it in her face as Cindy looked on in terror. The prisoner fell silent, and I then turned the blade on Cindy and cut away her clothing. The slaves held her still as I fastened restraints on her and claimed her as my property. Next we placed her on the "bed" and chained her down. It was here that Cindy tasted my cane and whip- and knew true suffering for the very first time. The beating went on for quite a while. Cindy passed out (and was revived) several times, but Princess and I eventually unchained her and carried her out to the trunk and drove down rural roads to our clandestine medical center.


After unloading our naked, bruised cargo at the medical center, I took her for a tour of the facilities, describing the purpose and history of every major piece of equipment in our labs. Near the end of the tour I shoved Cindy into "the shower," which is not unlike an airtight, lockable phonebooth that you can fill with gas or flood with cold water. We showered Cindy down and let the tank fill to her neck before draining the chamber. After Princess toweled our visitor off I introduced Cindy to the fabled Jessica 3000. Princess strapped her in and I described the device's workings in detail as Cindy groggily listened.


I related how the warmth, vibration, and steady movement of the machine's central spike had the unintended side effect of driving its subjects to intense involuntary orgasms, despite the Jessica's macabre purpose. I explained to her the purpose of th narrow stabilizing rod that enters the anus during the procedure, ultimately helping the subject's body to turn properly over an open flame. And then I flipped the switch.

To Cindy. Society may forget her, but we never will.