BAROCCA vs DARLA CRANE
DOM AND DOMMER
This note was addressed to “Mistress Barocca”:
I hear we have a new dominatrix in town. As the resident disciplinarian of this area, I am always interested in meeting anyone who may pose a challenge to my authority. You are therefore summoned-no, let us make that you are hereby invited to join me this Friday night at midnight for, shall we say, a get-acquainted session. Wear your favorite dominatrix outfit (I will be in mine) and bring any equipment you like. Be prepared for a fun night of entertainment and instruction.
Below the signature, which was signed in blood-red ink-or was it real blood?-were an address and an e-mail address.
Mistress Darla Crane
“An e-mail address,” Barocca sighed. “Even doms are going high-tech. Maybe I should be grateful she didn’t text message me.”
She e-mailed her acceptance and promised to be there precisely at midnight, adding, “I know how highly we doms appreciate promptness. And perfection. I expect-no, make that I demand perfection, so be sure that everything is perfect for our meeting.” She signed off as Mistress Barocca.
On the first stroke of midnight, Mistress Barocca pressed the doorbell at the address she’d been given. On the third stroke of midnight, the door swung open. The short young black man bowed. “On behalf of my Mistress Darla Crane, please enter, Mistress Barocca. My mistress will be with you presently.” He had a pleasant, cultured voice for such a young man. Barocca estimated him to be in his early 20s. He was outfitted in skin-tight white pants and white patent leather shoes. That was all. No shirt. Barocca admired his slightly muscled physique, not too thin, but as though he had only recently starting to work on building his body and had made excellent progress so far.
From atop the stairs a stern but oddly pleasant feminine voice intoned, “I’m glad to see that you are punctual…as required. I am Mistress Darla Crane. Welcome to my…home.” Home was an insufficient word for the old but well-maintained mansion. It resembled a small castle and sat on a sizable estate, back from the road and any prying eyes.
Darla descended the stairs at a regally stately pace. She was truly a dominatrix, dressed in all-black leather. Her ample bosom was supported by a network of narrow black leather straps that resembled a spider’s web…black widow, no doubt…and ornamented with small stainless steel chain. The open-weave bra allowed her perky dark pink nipples to poke through a steel ring to which the straps connected. More chains connected the bra to the black leather thong that almost concealed her pussy and left her ass cheeks on full public display. On her hip hung a black leather riding crop. Black nylons stuck out above her thigh-high boots that were shined to perfection and sported what had to be 6” heels. That raised Mistress Darla just about to Mistress Barocca’s height; that is, if Barocca hadn’t also been wearing stiletto boots. No doubt all of this intimidating black was intended to set off Darla’s shoulder-length, flaming naturally red hair.
Pausing on the bottom step, Mistress Darla addressed her half-attired servant. "Carlos, take Mistress Barocca's coat. Then leave us." Stepping up to Barocca, who towered over him by almost a foot, Carlos waited mutely as she unbuttoned her floor-length black leather overcoat and unwrapped herself.
Even though it was a chilly autumn night, that heavy coat was making her uncomfortable warm. Now out of her cocoon, Mistress Barocca stood eye-to-eye with her hostess. The black beauty’s gray eyes were on exactly the same level as Darla’s green eyes. At 5’ 10” in her bare feet, Barocca’s gleaming black patent leather kneeboots boosted her to well above 6’. Darla sized her up at 6’ 3”, maybe even 6’ 4”, perfect for glaring down on male submissives. Barocca’s black stockings were supported by garters attached to a glossy black PVC bustier that encircled her slim 21” waist and was separate from her top and bottom. Like the bustier, her minimalist rig was all black PVC, and nearly as revealing as Darla’s. Barocca’s pussy played peek-a-boo from behind a G-string whose straps were no thicker than common string. She at first glance appeared to be topless, until the observer looked more closely and noticed that her dark areolas were actually two black PVC circles with the requisite nipple vents, held together by more black string looping around her neck and her back. This was almost invisible against her flawless medium brown skin. Barocca’s crowning glory was her thick mane of coal black hair, teased to fullness and hanging to just below her shoulder blades.
Near the door, Barocca had set a black leather attaché case. “What’s in that?” Darla asked.
Barocca explained that it held a few “trinkets” such as her cat-o-nine-tails. “I can’t carry that on my hip, not with these straps. The cat would either break them or pull my G-string down. Besides, I only use it for special occasions, not for every session. This is a very special occasion, Mistress Darla.”
Darla had to find some aspect of Barocca’s breathtaking outfit to criticize, just so she could exert her dominance, so she sighed, “I see you prefer this artificial plastic material to the sensuousness of genuine kid leather. What a pity you new doms don’t fully appreciate the finer points.”
Without sounding the least bit defensive, Barocca retorted, “Oh, I have several leather outfits, but your invitation said to wear my favorite. I find it suits my purpose.” Barocca continued to stare directly into Darla’s eyes, only inches away, and would show no indication of backing down or swallowing the intended insult. After a full minute of silence and unblinking glaring, Barocca asked, “Well, Mistress Darla, are we going to stand here in the entrance hall or are you going to show me around your mansion?”
“Yes, I am neglecting my obligations as hostess,” she replied, irritated at being admonished by her neophyte guest. The time had come. Darla took that final step onto the floor and dropped 4” below Barocca’s height. As they began the tour, Barocca noticed that Darla was teetering on her toes, using those ridiculously tall heels to extract every possible inch of height without resorting to platform soles. Score another point for Barocca’s dominating stature.
Mistress Darla was justifiable proud of her mansion, which was lavishly furnished. She led Mistress Barocca to every room on the main and upper floors. Barocca expressed her admiration and said that someday soon she hoped to move into a similar property. “I’m still new to the domination business, but at the rate the money is pouring in, I should be able to move into a more suitable site like yours. Hah, maybe we’ll be neighbors.”
“I’ve been at it for about 15 years and I must agree that it’s quite rewarding, financially and otherwise,” Darla smiled to her colleague. The veteran dom admitted to herself that she rather liked Barocca, finding her a kindred spirit instead a challenger. “But,” she thought, “She still must be shown who’s the real dominant dominatrix around here. It’s for her own good,” she justified.
Barocca had been assessing Darla, too. “This old dom has all the façade and all the props, but does she really have the right stuff for this line of work? Eventually she’ll take me down to the chamber and try to put me in my place. I’ve seen Darla’s Napali videos and I’m not impressed with her wrestling. To her, domination is a game, but to me, it’s everything. And tonight, the teacher will learn.”
“Well, that’s the main house,” Darla said. “And now it’s time to show you my special chambers. They’re downstairs, of course. Follow me.” Darla led Barocca to a heavy wooden door secured by a medieval iron padlock. She opened the lock and then the door and ushered her guest down into the dim subterranean area. At any moment Barocca expected to come face to face with Elvira, Mistress of the Dark.
Once their eyes grew accustomed to the subdued illumination, it didn’t seem so dark after all. Darla led Barocca down a long corridor past several closed doors, until she came to one near the end, which she opened. As they both entered the pitch-black room, Darla announced, “This is my most recent addition. I made it especially for people just like you, Mistress Barocca.” Flicking on the light switch, she asked, “What do you think?”
The room was small, with just enough space for a full-size wrestling ring. Its platform was only a foot above the floor, making entry easy. If one were tossed out of the ring, the fall would be much less damaging. The top rope was steel cable covered with black vinyl, but the middle and bottom ropes were stainless steel chain. The mat was dark red, like dried blood. It appeared as though the design were inspired by Mistress Darla’s outfit. A wicked smile crept across Barocca’s face and she commented, “It’s perfect. It’s you, Mistress Darla.” As an afterthought, she added, “And I’m sure you brought me here, bypassing all those other rooms, for a reason.”
“Astute perception and high intelligence are traits of a great dom,” Darla complimented. “I had this set up a few months ago but it’s never been properly broken in. I’ve commanded some of my slaves to engage in battle for my pleasure, but they were at best amateurs and the results were…unsatisfactory. But now with you here tonight, I have a combatant truly worthy to enter my ring.”
"And who is to be my opponent," Barocca interrupted, turning to face Darla with arched eyebrows.
Staring back, Darla ran her tongue across her upper lip and grinned. "Who else?"
"We can't wrestle in these outfits," Barocca observed.
"Of course not. Across the hall I have dressing rooms full of more appropriate attire. I'm sure you'll find something that suits your tastes. Unless you have something in your bag upstairs."
"I always come prepared," Barocca smiled lasciviously. "I'll be directly back."
"Oh, don't bother." Turning to an intercom near the door, Darla pressed a button. "Carlos, fetch Mistress Barocca's bag to the dressing room across from the wrestling chamber."
The intercom crackled back, "At once, Mistress."
Returning her attention to her guest, Darla remarked, "It's so convenient having a slave to run these little errands. About ten seconds later, Carlos appeared at the doorway carrying Barocca's attaché case. "Prepare the wrestling chamber," she commanded Carlos, who nodded and disappeared down the corridor. Opening the door across the way, Darla motioned Barocca inside, saying, "Come, Mistress."
A few minutes later Barocca emerged wrapped in a deep maroon robe that almost reached the bottom of her shapely ass. She looked around, seeing and hearing no one, so the clacked across the corridor in her black stiletto pumps and entered the wrestling chamber. Strolling around the ring she noted that it nearly filled the room, leaving only about 3' along each side. The room had a sufficiently high ceiling and was well illuminated. Then she saw why: at least a dozen remote mini video cameras were mounted all around the room on walls and ceiling. Then Barocca heard a door open and close, and the tap-tap-tap of high heels getting closer.
Darla paused in the doorway. "Do you approve?"
"I said before it is perfect. Of course I approve."
"Spoken like a true dom," Darla chuckled. "Not that it matters. Only my approval counts." Not surprisingly, Darla was clad in a black silk robe that stopped about mid-thigh, and a pair of black stiletto pumps nearly identical to Barocca's. She stepped into the room and was obediently followed by Carlos, three paces behind. He had also changed clothes and now was barefoot wearing only a white Speedo that seemed to be spray-painted on. Carlos sported a huge crotch bulge that caught Barocca's eye instantly.
"Remove your shoes, Mistress Barocca. These heels are like ice picks and I don't want to damage my beautiful ring mat." Both contestants slipped off their heels and stepped up into the ring. Carlos also climbed in, but remained in his Mistress's corner. "As my guest, you may disrobe first, Mistress Barocca," Darla said. It was more of a directive than a polite offer.
Assuming that all the cameras were recording this, Barocca stepped to center ring, loosened her belt, and eased open her robe. Letting the robe drop to her elbows revealed her dynamite body to full advantage. She wore a gold Mylar thong bikini with bra cups that lifted her hefty bosom without obscuring the view. In fact, they supported from below and were so low cut that they scarcely covered her dark areolas. The thong rode high on her hips and plunged in front to a deep V. In back, the thong disappeared completely in her butt cleavage.
Barocca paraded her amazing body by turning slowly, giving each camera the best possible view. Tossing her robe onto the ring post she made a slow procession around the ring, stretching her arms, arching her back, and bending deeply from the waist at various points along the circuit. When she returned to her corner, Barocca leaned back and rested her arms on the top rope, a smug smile gracing her lovely face. "OK, Mistress Darla. Your turn."
As the redhead stepped to center ring, Carlos perked up and hovered behind her. A quick tug on her belt and her robe fell open. A shrug of her shoulders and it dropped, but Carlos snatched it up before it touched the mat. Darla put her hands on her hips and took a deep breath, inflating her lungs and thrusting her all-natural breasts forward. She wore a black PVC G-string bikini with light blue trim. The bra covered only her areolas with shiny black triangles; the rest was thin blue strings. The G-string was only a few square inches of glossy black suspended by more blue strings from her hips.
"Black. How imaginative," the golden girl chided the redhead. "I never would have guessed. Do you have any clothing that isn't black, Darla?"
Darla also made the circuit, parading her gorgeous physique and pausing if front of Barocca for a 360-degree spin. "No," she replied with a smug smile. "It's my favorite color." By the time she returned to her corner, Carlos had dutifully folded her robe and stood waiting at the bell. "If you're quite ready, Mistress Barocca, I'll signal for the bell. Carlos, remember what I've taught you."
"I'm ready, Mistress Darla," Barocca said with a nuance of defiance. Darla nodded to Carlos, he rang the bell, and the two doms approached each other. After a short series of brief skirmishes, it was apparent that Darla was fearless and aggressive, but that Barocca possessed the better wrestling skills and had the edge when it came to strength. They remained on their feet except once when Barocca hip-tossed Darla to the mat and her tits popped out of their restraint. But the cunning hostess let her momentum carry her back up onto her feet immediately.
Her 4" height advantage gave Barocca slightly better leverage over her 5' 6" opponent, but Darla gave her little opportunity to exploit that. When Barocca clamped a chokehold on Darla from behind, Darla used this height discrepancy to flip the brunette over her and sent her crashing to the mat on her back. Then she quickly spun the busty black beauty by the ankles so her head was in Darla's corner. "Is she going for a leg split or a figure-4," Barocca wondered. But before she could find out, something moist and pungent was pressed over her nose and mouth and the lights went out almost immediately.
The fog lifted but Barocca remained motionless. She heard people murmuring and moving about, but could not determine anything distinctly. She sensed that she was on her back, her legs spread and bent in a sitting position. When she tried moving her hand to her head, she realized that her wrists were tied. A slight motion in her legs indicated that they, too, were tethered. As she opened her eyes, she heard Mistress Darla's voice.
"Well, well. Sleeping Beauty is stirring. Is she secure, Carlos?"
"She is, Mistress Darla."
"Excellent. No use struggling, my dear. You are quite immobilized."
"I've been chloroformed, eh Darla? And by your little friend Carlos, I suspect. Is that what I saw bulging in your trunks, Carlos?"
"Oh, no Barocca," Darla corrected. "You're right about being chloroformed, but not about Carlos's bulge. That's all him, as I'll soon explain. Actually, I had no intention of wrestling you to a pinfall. No, my plan all along was to get you all trussed up…like you are now. Given your femme fighting experience and your ego, I figured this was the best way to do that. And as you see, I was 100% right."
"You must be losing your touch," Barocca hissed. "Having to resort to chloroform is beneath a real dominatrix, Darla."
"Bullshit. A real dominatrix does whatever she wants…as I do. You are totally naked on a gynecological examination table, Barocca, strapped at the wrists and ankles, with your feet in the stirrups. That gives me unobstructed access to your delicious pink pussy and your tight brown anus. Your restraints aren't too tight, I trust. No matter. Just so you can't wiggle around too much."
Barocca was fully conscious by now and acutely aware of her predicament. She glanced away from Darla and spied Carlos, also totally naked, with an enormous hard-on. She judged his stiff cock to be about 10" long and at least 3" in diameter: truly an awe-inspiring hunk of beef and as dark as a well-done steak. Under other circumstances, she'd be more than eager to-
"Ah, yes. You've noticed Carlos," Darla said. "That erection is his blessing and his curse. You see, Carlos is afflicted with priapism. That means he-"
"He has an all-day boner," Barocca interrupted. "And I assume he's capable of his own multiple orgasms, too. I can see why you keep him around all the time. He's like a human dildo that comes when you call him…and cums repeatedly."
"My, but you are perceptive, Barocca. Yes, I'm afraid I work poor Carlos too hard…but then I wouldn't be a dom if I didn't, eh? But tonight you're the main attraction, and Carlos is merely a stagehand." A quick glance at Carlos's reaction told Barocca that he was not happy with Darla's assignment of his role in the night's festivities.
Darla picked up a large ostrich plume and took her time dusting Barocca's immobile form with it. She took extra delight stroking the plume's entire length along her victim's labia-and Barocca enjoyed it equally but made a great effort not to show it. Being very ticklish, the brunette was being driven crazy with the tantalizing sensations of the soft, fluffy feather. It was all she could do not to scream.
"Before we proceed," Darla said, laying the plume aside, "I must avail myself of the opportunity you present." She rummaged through a storage drawer in the exam table and came up with a thick fiendish-looking dildo, translucent blue jelly-like plastic studded with dozens of not-so-small knobs. She displayed the instrument for Barocca's examination and then moved to the foot of the table, between the glamour girl's gaping legs.
"Some of my submissives love this toy; others hate it. Which will be your reaction, Barocca dear?" The demonic dom, still clad in her black PVC wrestling bikini, teased the trussed-up tigress's twat with the tip of that wicked wand, then abruptly shoved it all the way in with a painful whack. Barocca's pink pussy was moist but not yet fully lubricated and this sudden intrusion hurt like hell. Darla yanked the dildo out with a sharp twist and immediately rammed it right back in, causing Barocca to cry out in agony.
"Whatsamatter, Barocca? Your cunt can't take it? If you scream like that again, I'll have Carlos gag you."
"How?" Barocca wondered. "You gonna have him cram that hefty cock down my throat?" That prospect was not entirely objectionable. And Carlos was certainly up to the task.
Darla apparently took the term "screwing" literally, as she worked the phony phallus in and out of Barocca's pussy with a constant twisting motion. Her love juices now flowing-no, gushing-Barocca found herself liking it more and more. That knobby probe introduced her to a new sensation. She was surprised that she'd never experienced this before in her years of sexual activity. As she felt the familiar tensions building, she became aware of the squooshy liquid sounds emanating from her overheating pussy.
In just a few more seconds, the Brazilian Bombshell detonated with a seismic orgasm. She quaked and bucked futilely on the examination table to which her extremities were firmly and expertly tied. Barocca felt her hot love lava pouring from her overstimulated cunt, down her ass, and onto the table.
"I've really opened your flood gates," Darla beamed. "You're wetter that the Ninth Ward in New Orleans. Brava, Barocca. Now let's see if I can top that…with your assistance, of course." Plugging the brunette's leak with the blue dildo, Darla stepped to the head of the table, whipped off her shiny black G-string, climbed aboard in a reverse cowgirl position, and settled her pussy carefully over Barocca's mouth. "Now eat me, bitch," she commanded and added a sharp nipple tweak as she clung onto Barocca's breasts.
The aroma of the redhead's juices was all the encouragement Barocca needed, and she obediently went to work on Mistress Darla's clit with her talented tongue. She flicked the stiff little button as though it were a piñata. The delighted dom's "oohs", "aahs", and giggles assured her that Darla was being transported to ecstasy. The lusty Latina ran her tongue up and down the length of Darla's dripping labia. Then the cruel Mistress mashed her muff firmly onto Barocca's face. She took the hint and thrust her electric tongue as far into Darla's steaming hole as she could, tickling every crevasse she could reach.
Moments later Mistress Darla drenched the brazen Brazilian's jaw and cheeks with her hot jizz. Exhausted, Darla collapsed forward onto Barocca's supine body and lay inert until her strength returned.
"That was fabulous, Barocca. I wish you could teach Carlos to eat pussy like that. Perhaps I should assign you as his tutor."
Barocca seethed and thought, "So, within the span of just a few minutes, I've gone from domination Mistress to your slave's tutor, eh Darla? Sorry, cunt, but I have other plans…if I can only get myself loose."
Climbing off Barocca and the table, Darla assessed herself. "Look at what you did, you naughty Nubian. I'm soaked from crotch to foot with sticky cum. I must shower and get dressed for our next session. Now you just wait here with Carlos while I run along and clean myself up. If you behave yourself, I may allow Carlos to help clean up your mess, too. Don't run off, dearie." Snagging her G-string from the floor, Darla strode out and slammed the door behind her. Barocca did not hear the lock turn.
She turned her full attention to the nude dude with the protruding prod. Throughout both parts of Barocca's lesbian orgy with Darla, Carlos had not touched his rigid, massive manhood, yet it remained fully erect and appeared ready to burst at any moment.
"Carlos, come closer," she cooed in her most seductive manner. He hesitated, torn between his Mistress's command and this most promising offer. Barocca thought, "He's a natural submissive. He won't respond to temptation. He's used to being ordered around by a dominating woman." She changed her approach. "CARLOS!" she barked. "Come here at once!"
He jumped to her side so quickly his dark shaft was still quivering like a fast-tempoed metronome. "Impressive," Barocca mused.
"I'm still hot from Mistress Darla's feeble attempts to abuse me. But no mere woman can satisfy my sexual cravings. This is a man's job. Carlos, you will climb onto my belly and tit-fuck me until you cum. Do you understand?" He nodded silently. "Begin now," she commanded.
Carlos obediently mounted Barocca's belly and began ramming his dark dick between her fabulous boobs. As he appeared to get into the spirit of the action, Barocca upped the ante. "This is no good," she complained. "I need to squeeze my titties against your dong to get the proper friction. Release my hands."
Frustrated by this interruption and eager to resume, Carlos reached down and unbuckled the straps around Barocca's wrists. As promised, she grabbed her jumbo juggs and pressed them tightly against his rock-hard cock. He picked up the pace where they'd left off. The additional friction was just what he needed and in less than a minute of furious pumping, Carlos shot a hot load of cum onto Barocca's face. She opened her mouth to catch what she could and swallowed it with an audible "gulp".
Carlos leaned back and rested against Barocca's left leg. The Bombshell was astonished to note that his hot rod remained rigid. She craned her neck forward and took a mouthful of his dick, still dripping jizz. He inched closer, providing more of his black bone for her oral ministrations. Barocca sucked hard and moved her lips up and down along his stiff shaft. Her animated tongue flitted all around his pulsating pecker. He sat up straight and inched further forward until her full bosom prevented any further advance. Within a minute, Carlos blasted the black beauty with another industrial-strength spurt of spunk. This time Barocca gulped down every drop.
"A dildo is always ready to go but it never cums," Barocca thought. "This little dude is terrific. I gotta get me one of these guys with priapism. Maybe Carlos would like a change of scenery."
Carlos climbed off Barocca, who propped herself up on her elbows. "That was excellent, Carlos. Now I want you to fuck me. Jam that joystick into my cunt as hard and as fast as you can." He didn't have to be told twice. Before Barocca could blink, Carlos was squeezing that fat fucker of his into her gaping glory hole with such intensity of purpose that Barocca swore she could smell smoke wafting from her pussy. His hard pelvic thrusts began moving the table inch by inch.
Preoccupied as he was, Carlos failed to notice when Barocca leaned forward and unfastened her ankle straps. She clasped her long legs behind Carlos's back to prevent him from falling out during his backstrokes. He never broke his rhythm. The Brazilian Bombshell came no less than four times before Carlos finished with a fire hose gusher of an orgasm of his own.
Carlos stagger to a chair and dropped onto it with a "thud". Barocca managed to sit up on the edge of the exam table, to which she was no longer bound. Even after all this, Carlos's cock was as stiff as steel and continued to point toward Barocca's pussy like an iron bolt drawn by a powerful magnet. She wondered if it ever went limp…even when he slept. Probably not.
Barocca snapped out of her reverie when she realized that Darla had been gone for quite a while and should be returning any moment. While being raped by that bristly blue dildo, she had formulated a plan of what she'd do when she got loose. And now was the time to act.
She spied the bottle of chloroform and the folded cloth applicator on a table near the door. Snatching these up, she opened the door and hurried across the dark hallway. That door was also fortunately unlocked. She ducked inside and closed it almost shut. Darla must not lock up completely down here unless she had guests, Barocca surmised. And this time she obviously didn't expect Barocca to escape, so she carelessly left all the rooms unlocked. The naked nymph held her breath when she thought she heard…
Tap-tap-tap-tap. High heels descending the stairs. Barocca splashed a small amount of the chloroform on the cloth as Darla approached the torture chamber door just across the way. Like a flash of lightning Barocca struck. She burst open the door, grabbed Darla from behind, and smothered her with the soaked cloth. Darla struggled feebly for two or three seconds before passing out. The brunette stripped the flaccid redhead of her kinky dom get-up and dragged her ass down the corridor and into the wrestling room. She returned to collect her attaché case that Darla has so thoughtfully brought with her. She smiled to see that her hedonistic hostess hadn't figured out the combination to the case's lock and hadn't forced it open with some sort of tool. "She probably was going to torture me into opening it for her," Barocca deduced.
Barocca took her attach case into the wrestling room and closed the door. A few minutes later she emerged and summoned Carlos to join them.
When Mistress Darla finally came around, she found herself nude, sitting in a corner on the ring mat, with her wrists handcuffed to individual links of the bottom chain of the ring. In the opposite corner, Barocca chatted with Carlos; both were also nude. The tall black babe was finishing toweling the cum from her thighs. She hung the used towel on Carlos's ever-ready erection and commented, "That thing sure comes in handy at times."
"What the fuck is going on here?" Darla demanded. She attempted to pull her arms closer but cuffed to the chain links this way, there wasn't much slack. Had these chains been ropes, she would have had a little room to maneuver. She tried to stand, but it was a futile effort.
"Welcome back, Mistress Darla," Barocca bowed deeply, letting her bountiful bosom dangle. "Please note that I subdued you all by myself, without having to rely on the Boy Wonder here. You treat him rather shabbily, Darla. He deserves better…much better."
“Cut the bullshit,” Darla spat. “You’ve got me where you want me, so now what? You gonna ass-fuck me with that prickly dildo? You gonna have Carlos pistol-whip me with his big gun? You gonna-”
“What an imagination,” Barocca exclaimed. “I regret to admit I never thought of such delightful revenge. I’ll file those away for future reference. No, Darla, we began this dungeon session wrestling and that’s how we’re going to end it. Only this time, Carlos will not interfere. It’ll be just you and me in a fight to the finish. Only one of us will walk out of this room.”
“So why the handcuffs? Just for humiliation?”
“Oh yes, I almost forgot. We have a small pre-fight entertainment for the viewers,” the brunette grinned, pointing to the cameras. “Carlos, give me a hand.” He produced a handcuff key and together Barocca and Carlos unlocked Darla’s left wrist, rolled her over onto her belly, and relocked her to the chain. Now she was face-down in the classic crucifixion position, arms stretched wide.
“Remember this?” Barocca inquired as she lifted her cat-o-nine-tails from her attaché case. “You enjoyed my pussy so much, I‘m sure you’ll love my cat.” Darla’s eyes widened as her predicament instantly sank in. “Carlos, you may do the honors.”
“Thank you, Mistress Barocca,” Carlos replied as he shook out the cat’s individual tails. Then he stroked them lightly over Darla’s bare back, just as she had done with the ostrich plume on Barocca. When he lashed the redhead with the first blow, she was shocked that it scarcely hurt. In fact, it didn’t hurt at all. The second lash landed on her well-rounded ass without stinging in the least.
"You pussy," Darla hissed. "That cat's got velvet tails. No real dom would use one of those sissy things."
Barocca squatted down and whispered, "It's just a prop for the cameras, sugar, to humiliate you. First Carlos whips your ass with this fake cat, then I whip your ass for real when we wrestle. I don't want him beating you up before I get my hands on you. I know you probably use real leather whips and cats. That just proves that your time is over. Make way for the new generation of doms, Darla."
"At least it's a black cat," Darla sighed as she lay helpless and in shame from being whipped by her slave with a phony lash. "This is as bullshit as a Bush White House press conference," she thought disgustedly. To illustrate her point, she said "Ow" and "Please stop" with absolutely no inflection at all.
Barocca stopped the charade after two minutes. "Darla obviously doesn't appreciate our game. She wants reality, so I'll give her all the reality she can stand. Unshackle her, Carlos. It's time to wrestle."
As soon as Carlos freed Darla, he exited the ring and the doms threw themselves at each other. After an arm-and-arm lock-up, Barocca twisted Darla into a painful armbar that quickly sent the suffering sadist down on one knee. The busty Brazilian cranked harder, increasing the pressure on the writhing redhead's shoulder until Darla was on both knees, bent forward with her head on the mat. Barocca upped the ante by placing her foot in Darla's armpit and pressing down.
"Stop! You're breaking my arm," Darla screamed. Not wanting to end the match so soon, Barocca released her hold, leaving her hostess balled up on the mat, massaging her shoulder. The black beauty placed her foot on Darla's ass and shoved her over onto her side with a contemptuous sneer.
"Poor baby," Barocca cooed as she strolled leisurely around her crumpled foe. "She can dish it out but she can't take it. As a dom, dear Darla, you're nothing but a pathetic pussy." She settled back into her corner and summoned Carlos. "Get her back into her corner and give her the treatment."
The small submissive dragged Darla back to her corner but he couldn't get her onto her feet, so he left her sitting on the mat. He knelt down and, with a quick glance to Barocca who nodded her approval, he began slapping Darla across the face with his stiff cock. Gently at first, then progressively harder as she started coming around. At a signal from Barocca, he shoved his big black boner down Darla's throat until she gagged.
"Enough, Carlos," Barocca commanded. "She's obviously not up to the task. Besides, she's not worthy enough or woman enough for you. After I finish her off, I'll finish you off." She waved him out of the ring as Darla regained her feet and glared across the ring at Barocca, who indulged herself in a few deep knee bends to limber up.
When the Bombshell had squatted all the way down, Darla launched herself into a dropkick aimed at Barocca's head. Despite being taken unaware, Barocca was already starting to rise and Darla's feet contacted with her full bosom. The pain was excruciating, but not nearly as damaging as it would have been if Darla had connected with her head. As she came out of her blinding agony, Barocca saw why Darla was not pressing her advantage: the kinky kamikaze had landed badly and was still on her aching back, her legs tangled with Barocca's.
Her big brown juggs feeling like they were about to explode, the Brazilian nevertheless summoned her strength and crawled on hands and knees until she hovered over her prey. Barocca slammed her knee hard against Darla's cunt and was rewarded with a shriek from the demolished dom. Then she spread her fingers wide, clamped onto Darla's snow white breasts, and squeezed with all her might. The rueful redhead howled as her tormentor continued mauling her melons and pounding her pussy.
Darla defended herself by grabbing big double handfuls of Barocca's boobs and crushing them, but she still hadn't recovered fully from the earlier armbar and her black babe had the clear advantage. At last Darla managed to get a leg up and knock the Brazilian off balance, stopping her torture. Barocca rolled onto her feet, grabbed a handful of Darla's red locks, and hauled her to a standing position. Slipping one hand between Darla's legs and the other over her shoulder, Barocca lifted her victim off the mat, held her for a moment, and bodyslammed her with a resounding crash. Then she fell across Darla's naked body for the pin. One…two…
But not so fast. The dumped dom had just enough strength left to roll Barocca off of her before the count of three. Disappointed but not defeated, the Brazilian Bombshell sighed and stood up. "If you want to drag this out a little longer, that's just fine with me, Red," she said.
With a hoarse voice, Darla managed to croak out, "Fuck you." She pulled herself up slowly and painfully by the ring chains and ropes. "You aren't going to polish me off this fast, Barocca. You want to prolong this humiliation as long as possible. You want to beat me until I beg you to stop. Well, that ain't gonna happen, bitch. I never give up. Never."
Barocca strode right up to Darla, mashing her black breasts against her pale pink puppies and forcing her back into the corner. "I believe you're right, sugar. I'll have to try another tactic." Backing off half a step, Barocca reached down and rammed three fingers into Darla's pussy. Before the ravaged redhead could retaliate, the black beauty was pumping and squeezing her juice box as roughly as possible, paying particular attention to Darla's swollen clit.
Darla Crane groped Barocca's glory hole with two fingers but the Bombshell's vicious muff mauling forced her to remove her hand for defense of her own abused cunt. The brunette diddled Darla faster and harder until the veteran dom could no longer hold back. Her gasps turned to a scream as she flooded Barocca's hand with her sweet nectar.
Overwhelmed by her orgasm, Darla sank until she hung by her elbows from the top rope. The African Aphrodite then smeared the jizz on Darla's face, made a fist, and punched her in the belly. "Towel," she called to Carlos, who tossed one into the ring. Barocca carefully dried off her hand and tossed the moist towel at Darla's face. "Clean yourself up, cunt," she commanded.
But Darla threw the towel right back at Barocca's face, followed immediately by a hard right fist that staggered the statuesque stunner all the way across the ring and against the ropes. The Brazilian rebounded into Darla's bent-over form and got flipped onto her back, knocking the wind from her. Before she could catch her breath, Darla hauled her to her feet and clamped on a chokehold from behind. The redhead bore down hard until Barocca felt herself starting to black out.
Desperate, Barocca drove a sharp elbow back into Darla's midsection, breaking the choke. Gasping, both belligerent babes circled each other before locking up again. With a wicked grin, Barocca remarked, "I gotta admit, you can sure take a beating, Darla. You make a much better submissive-or maybe even a masochist-than you do a dom. I've never enjoyed myself more."
“I don’t see you whining like a wimpy schoolgirl, Barocca,” Darla replied. “But then, I haven’t really cut loose on you yet, have I?” The devious dom punctuated her crack with a swift kick, but Barocca was ready and grabbed her onrushing foot in midair and twisted her to the mat. Still clinging to Darla’s ankle, Barocca yanked her up until she rested on her shoulders, stepped over Darla’s crotch, and squatted on her clit-to-clit.
“OK, babe, let’s see what you can do woman-to-woman,” Barocca challenged. She bounced on Darla’s gaping pussy, grinding her own against her adversary’s. Darla grabbed Barocca’s ankles but surprisingly did not try to jerk her off balance. Instead, she used this hold to stabilize herself for this mutual gash clash. With all four titties bouncing wildly, the black girl and the white girl went after each other with hedonistic abandon. Darla gave a sharp yelp and her cum flowed down her abdomen and ass. Barocca kept pumping away until she too uttered a passionate cry as her own nookie nectar streamed down her thighs.
Barocca dropped Darla’s legs and bestowed a barefooted stomp to her flat belly. As the redhead began to rise, the brunette helped her by grabbing both tits and tugging her up. Steadying Darla with her left, Barocca rocketed a roundhouse right to her nemesis’s left eye. Darla hit the mat like a skydiver with a defective chute, landing face-first and not moving.
With her toe, the Brazilian Bombshell nudged Darla onto her back. She dropped to her knees and flopped onto the supine body of her hostess, calling out, “One…two…three…four…five.” Darla’s reply was only a faint groan. Barocca stood, a broad smile extended across her face, and placed a triumphant foot on her victim’s bosom. “You’ve had it, honey. A new day has dawned…my day.”
Carlos tossed in the cum-soaked towel and Barocca draped it over Darla’s face. Then he respectfully handed her a fresh towel, which she used to dry off her luscious body. “Carlos, it’s up to you now. You can stay here and mop up the remains of your former Mistress, or you can leave her as she is and come with me. Not as a submissive slave, but as a free man.”
He replied, “If you will allow me, I would like to show you how I feel about Mistress Darla.” Barocca nodded. Carlos got down, spread Darla’s legs wide, and thrust his full-time ramrod deep into her cunt. He was not gentle about it, slamming his pelvis against her shaved pussy again and again. Even in her semiconscious state, the redhead managed to squeak out a few yelps when Carlos was particularly rough. He continued until she came involuntarily.
The Carlos withdrew his cum-coated cock, flipped Darla onto her stomach, propped up her hips, and stuffed his joystick in her ass. Again, he was as rough as he could be, reaming her tight brown eye while slapping her bare booty. Barocca was highly amused watching Carlos turn on his Mistress, so to speak. He vented plenty of pent-up hostility on her pitiful pussy and sorry ass. This time the pleasure was all his as he made his delivery at Darla’s back door.
But Carlos wasn’t finished yet. With his foot to her ass, he shoved Darla onto her side. He stood over her and began vigorously stroking his magic wand. Carlos was small in stature. Unlike most men, his short arms were attached to his shoulders, which forced him to hunch over slightly on his full upstroke. Nevertheless, he pursued his task diligently until he popped his load on Mistress Darla’s face. Then he cracked his dick like a whip to shake off the last few drops.
Turning to Barocca, he said, “If you will be kind enough to give me a ride, I’ll join you as soon as I gather up my things.”
“Take your time. Take a shower and wash Darla off your toolbar. I need one, too. She’ll be out for quite some time. We’ll meet in the foyer.
As dawn broke, Mistress Barocca strode to her car, flush with a hard-won victory over Mistress Darla Crane, with Carlos trailing in her wake.
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