Chapter 11 

An area in the center of the room was opened up by the patrons of the Ball.

The patrons, who had participated in this for some time, knew that the Mistress was very strong, and could be very determined. This particular cell of people who participated in an alternative life also knew that the Mistress seemed to carry the life into everything that She did. She was very dedicated to the status that She had learned, as well as earned, that of a Dominant Female. She would not back down from a challenge.

The new Dom was a bit curious as to the happenings around him. He was to challenge this Mistress over a boy, a slave, whom the Dom had thought a gesture of frolics for the evening. The host of the ball had sent him a letter of how things were regulated in the fetish cell. There was a High Mistress who was shown the utmost respect. She was to be entertained until She decided to show the patrons Her abilities, or not, for it was up to Her. She would vote on the events and chose the best entertainment for the Ball allowing them to gain prestige within the community of BDSM. The best would also win a prize of some monetary value.

The Dom thought nothing of this information once inside the hall of fetish. He had not noticed that the other patrons showed the High Mistress of the Ball the respect of a GODDESS. He thought nothing of the presentation before the high table at the end of the hall. He thought that this was just part of the entertainment, nothing more. The Dom knew nothing of Parliamentary procedures and the presentation before a Queen. Hence the reason for the confusion at the activity around him.

When he saw the Violet Wand being set up, he still wasn’t sure to what capacity this was to be used. Familiar with the wand, he had the idea that he would be performing on his submissive. Perhaps even the slave boy, or some one of the crowds choosing.

The device was rather old, he thought. Archaic if nothing more, He saw a panel with 4 dials and tubes above the dial, they glowed a soft blue when the contraption was turned on. There was also a quite hum of electricity that filled the cleared area. The crowd was not pressing in to see, there was no need. The slaves and submissive moved to the front of crowd and kneeled on the floor, the Mistresses and Doms had chairs moved to sit upon while watching the festivities. The rest stood behind the chairs of the Lords and Ladies. It was quite, for such a large crowd there had been little noise in the bustling of the room to become ready for this challenge.

From his right he saw a rustling amongst the crowd, the sea of people opened up to allow the Mistress to enter the area of display, this was Her arena. She moved softly on the high, black gladiator boots with 5 inch heels. The leather thongs wrapped around her shapely legs up to her knees. The Mistress had changed from the evening gown into Her leather bustier with silver tacking across the breast and the skirt flared slightly with more leather straps trimmed in silver….she wore no stockings and the Dom wondered if she had anything on underneath.

Mistress stepped in the cleared arena, gliding in her footsteps, wide hips swayed with each step. She moved to stand before the offender of the protocols and came to a stop. Her green eyes sought the Doms and once she found his, he looked into the deepest emeralds, shadowed by long lashes, her eyes were shaped like a cats, moving in an upward sweep. The brows finely arched, with the left one slightly raised to give the face a provocative pose.

The Dom had never seen anyone like this before, he wasn’t use to the idea that a female would stare him down at first glance, for he would have slapped them for their insubordination, this female before him was very different. She held her head high, boldly, regally as if she was Superior!

He stood up to his own full height of 6’5 and squared his shoulders back.

And the Mistress did the same.

She was only 5’4 in her stocking feet, the five inches boots raised her to a full 5’9...She squared her own shoulders and thrust out her breast, the cleavage straining the leather ties down the front of the bustier. The fullness of her breast was noticed by the Dom. The Mistress took a stance with feet separated and firmly planted to the ground. She did not look away, but held her eyes on him. He felt as if she was looking through him rather than at him.

The Dom blinked, the she blinked….he blinked again and so did she. She was mimicking him, a type of slow humiliation, but only noticed by the two of them.

The host moved to the arena with a Microphone…..he cleared his throat….”Lords and Ladies of the cell, we have before us a challenge, brought by the Mistress Zaggo…….She has declared a breech in Protocol for the evening. The Mistress has challenged a Dom, new to the cell, but failed to give the proper respect of the High Dominia, may I take this moment to say to the Mistress that as the host I take full responsibilities for the breech, please Madam punishes this lowest of males for the difficulties of this moment.” The host proceeded to prostrate himself on the floor before the Mistress, legs spread and arms outstretched a thin toga covered his body. The Mistress motioned for a slave girl kneeling at the perimeter of the arena; she scurried forward with a microphone in one hand. And reached up to place it in the Mistresses long fingers.

“Lords and Ladies, you are in this cell with the understanding that protocols are to be followed, you read and signed a contract with the cell to conduct yourselves at all times.: The Mistress’s voice was clear and melodic, a southern accent came across the microphone….as She spoke a bit slower emphasizing the code of conduct that everyone was to have perfect understanding of the code.

The Mistress walked over to the host on the floor and speaking once more into the microphone she told the host that she would deal with him at a later time. She told him to get up and let the offender know his rights and the wager for the challenge. The Mistress wager was always the same, the winner walks away with the servitude of the loser for 6 months, in whatever capacity the winner thought. The host declared the wager to the crowd; they murmured something amongst themselves as the hall sounded like a great hive of buzzing bees before their Queen.

The host proceeded to explain the rules of the challenge. Each person would have to endure the others pain at wand, the first to scream out or announce their safe word would concede and their pain level recorded, the next person under the wand would have to meet or exceed the pain level marked. Each touch of the wand was to be at a higher velocity, failure to turn the wand higher would be a breech and the challenge would be over for the holder of the wand. The Mistress had called the challenge and would chose to stand first under the wand. The host finished the explanation and stood waiting for the Dom to respond.

The Dom acknowledge the rule, the Mistress needed no explanations, She made the rules and the stage was set for the challenge.

The Mistress had called for a nipple challenge, Her jester rushed forward and unlaced the Mistress bodice exposing her full milk laden breast, the orbs swung free of the bodice, the nipples were hard and dark pink under the hall lights, the Dom was mesmerized by them, he wanted to feel them and tie them in a binder, but he didn’t realize that the Mistress was lactating.

The Mistress took her place at the St.Andrews cross, refusing to be restrained; she wrapped her hands in the leather thongs hanging from the top eyehooks of the cross. She took a stance with feet spread apart and stood erect. Her eyes flashed green and full of lust, the pupils dilated and waited for the sharp sting of the wand.

The Dom went to the controls of the violet wand, he hesitated at the archaic contraption not knowing which knob to turn or even how to turn it on, while standing at the machine the host noticed the perplexed look on the Doms face and offered assistance, quickly showing him how to change the charge and intensity and turned the machine on. The wand began to hum and the tubes on top began to glow, the room grew quite.

The Mistress remained at the cross, growing impatient for the Dom to figure out what to do next. She kept her eyes focused on watching him trying to figure out what to do. The host picked up the long handled tube and handed it to the Dom and showed him how to turn the wand up to higher intensities. The Dom walked over to the Mistress and touched her left nipple, the slight electrical charge pulsed threw her nipple and she immediately began to leak milk. A long stream shot out of her nipple. The Mistress arched her back and relished in the small sting. She actually liked the feeling.

The Dom was amazed and again touched the nipple, milk spurted again from the Mistress full breast, they seemed to become fuller as the milk was letting down.

He had forgotten the rules, he didn’t turn the wand up a notch, and the host immediately rushed forward and took the wand from the Doms hand. The challenge was over and it was the Mistresses turn to hold the wand. The Dom became furious at his own stupidity and lapse in thinking, the rules had stated that each touch of the wand must include a higher intensity or the turn was over.

Unwrapping her hands from the leather thongs, the Mistress stepped away from the cross. jester was at her side and fastened the bodice snuggly to the now fuller breasts, licking the sweet sticky milk from the nipple before encasing it back inside the leather and lace of the black bustier.

The Dom was roaring that he should be given another opportunity, but the rules remained in place and he was lead to the cross. The Mistress was staring deep into his eyes, laughing at him, at his rage at his stupidity as a male who thought himself special and superior. The thoughts that danced in her head were indeed delightful.

At the cross the Dom refused to be tied down, but the Mistress walked over to the host and ordered the Dom to be placed in the restraints, the Dom was shouting and refused, the Mistress placed one gloved hand on the throat and looked into his face…spittle had form on the Doms mouth, wipe your mouth and shut it male before I have you gagged, you have brought this upon yourself for your arrogance and attitude, let them tie you to the cross so as not to get hurt. The green eyes had grown cold and cruel, commanding in the stare, her voice was soft but stern and the Dom wiped his mouth as told; he raised his arms above his head and felt the restraints being place around his wrist. He wanted another moment with the wand in his hand, to touch the clit of the Mistress and see her beg for mercy, rage had built in the DOM for realization and He just wanted to bring the female before to her knees and then use her, beat her, make her beg for forgiveness and then turn her over to ravaging wolves.

The Dom had not noticed that he was being also being restrained at his waist and ankles fastened down to the wooden cross and several points, by the time he collected his thoughts the process was completed and the Mistress was walking back to the controls of the violet wand, her hands did not hesitant at any motion or switch, quickly she turned the wand to the next notch above where the Dom had administered his first and last attempt to shock her…but those where the rules, she had the choice to either stay at the same level or go higher in the intensity of the impulse with the wand. She chose to higher by 2 notches.

She called for the contraption to be moved closer seeing as how the foot control had not been included in the set up of the wand mechanisms. The Mistress moved over in front of the Dom hanging from the cross. He was breathing heavily from anger, a look of detainment on his face. The Mistress would soon have this male on his knees licking the soles of her boots.

People began to press in to watch better the finale of the challenge. They knew the Mistress and how she loved winning at whatever she tried.

The hum of the wand could be heard in the great hall, the Mistress tightened her grip and touched the left nipple of the Dom, an arch of blue electricity responded as the Mistress pulled the wand away, maintaining the arch from an inch away from the tender flesh and slowly began to turn the knob that controlled the flow up higher.

The Dom felt the first sting and slightly arched his back, the pain was not that intense but as he hung helpless on the cross the sting became more intense. The arch of blue power raced through his whole body. He clinched his mouth shut less a noise escape and ends the challenge,

> Determined not to give in to the bitch that was attempting to break his ego.

High the wand was turned. The fact that the wand was actually touching him physically was well within the rules as the power was increased. It was still just the first touch but the pale blue arch grew brighter as the electricity flowed from the tip of the wand to the Doms now erect nipple.

The Mistress hand flew over the control as the wand was held steady over the Dom, the tubes on the back of the control panel began to glow a white light showing the level of the power exchange from metal to flesh.

The Dom began to buck away from the arc, ozone filled the arena, with each bucking away the arc was so intense that the rule of one touch for each increase held firm, the host was watching to make sure. THE Dom threw his head back against the hard wooden cross and opened his mouth, his breath escaped him in a great gust, and the moisture in his lungs flew out like a whale, spraying the Mistress. He tried to regain his composure but it was to late…he let out a scream “Stop! Please stop“.

The Mistress stepped away from the bucking body hanging on the cross and watched as he went limp, gulping and gasping for air, sweat ran in rivulets down his body.

The Mistress smiled as the now broken Dom looked into her face.

“My God,” he thought, “She is beautiful and she is my Goddess.”

Chapter 10

The Mistress remained seated at the high table at the end of the ballroom. Her gaze was one of cold steel; the green eyes flashed lightening at the new Dom at the other end of the room. He had broken protocol; he had made his selection for a slave that the Mistress had her eyes on at the presentation to the Queen of the Fetish Ball. The Dom was new to the BDSM community in this geographical area. The host was responsible for telling the newcomers all the rules and protocols, it was up to the newcomers to learn and grow in this arena. The Mistress thought hard about a suitable punishment for the host’s lack of adherence to keeping the protocols intact.

The MC for the evening was a troll looking man, very short, fat, and balding, with a large moon face and yellow teeth behind thick blubbery lips. The PA system was announcing the first entertainment for the night. There would be displays of whips, fire drenched and wet with urine, he announced. Shibari and suspension displays, a DOM would bring forth his slave to show how much pain she could take before she succumbs to screams, and more dancers, a pony show, a Mistress with her trained “dogs” and the list droned on.

The Mistress watched troll man for a time, seeing the spittle from his nasty mouth coat the microphone, She made a mental note to ask for a different mic when She got ready to address the mass of fetish minded people gathering in the caverns room.

With her eyes, the Mistress sought out the table where the male slave She had chosen was kneeling before the new Dom. Every now and then the slave would nod his head. And the DOM would rub the female slaves open pussy as she was sitting on a chair to his right. Evidently the male slave was having a hard time not getting an erection from the activity inches from his face. The DOM would throw back his head and laugh; sorry the Mistress couldn’t hear that laugh over the noise in the room.

The Mistress held her fingers out to her jester on her right, kneeling on the floor. Immediately a lit cigarette appeared in her out stretched fingers, completed in an ebony and gold cigarette holder. She put the tip between her full red lips and took a deep drag of mentholated air into her lungs. Her breast rose with the action. The red lace bodice of her gown strained to contain that luscious breast. She could feel the fullness of the milk filled tits, a slight pain, but then she did love the pain.

As the MC’s drone died out, the Mistress stood at her table. She motioned for the host of the Ball to approach her. The host sub scurried to the high table and knelt before the stage, over the din of noise the Mistress could hear him pant, “I am here for You, Mistress“

The Mistress remained stand, waiting for the room to quiet, when the last revealer became quite, all eyes in the room turned toward the high table.

The Mistress asked the host for a fresh microphone, he moved over to a table and picked the darkest mic on the table, a Mistress mic. The Mistress took the microphone and watched as the host backed up to the place where he had first knelt.

The troll man had moved from the spotlight at the center of the room. He was telling everyone waiting in the wings that there would be a delay…the room was quite.

The Mistress spoke into the microphone…”Host comes here to My side” and the host scurried forward still on his knees.

Not as so much a glance She asked the host…” Are there any new comers here tonight?” “ Some one who might not know the proper protocol for this ball?”….the host stammered a curious yes, Mistress….The Mistress spoke in a wisher the next request…”ALL newcomers please come forward.”

There were scuffling sounds around the room as the chairs were being moved and 4 newcomers approached the high table including the new Dom. They came to a stop, in a line across the front of the table….curious looks on each face…..2 Doms and 2 Dommes.

The Mistress looked straight into the tall Doms face, his brown eyes sparking, his smile in a smirk, he was cocky, he was sure of himself.

She said to the Dom, “What is the third protocol for the standards of the Ball?” The smirk vanished from the Doms face, his eyes grew hard as a tree bark, he stammered, and “what difference does it make?” he said in a flat voice.

“It makes all the difference in the world,” the Mistress hissed back. “You sir have broken protocol, did you even bother reading what you signed?”

The Dom stared back at the beautiful creature before him, taking a stand, not meek and mild as he was accustom with his sub females. There was a severity with this female, as if she really thought she was Superior. But he had no response; he had not been called onto the carpet before. He looked around the room and realized that every eye was on him. He suddenly realized the power and position the Female held. There was respect in the air for Her. Even admiration….they knew something he obviously didn’t know.

The Mistress spoke again and said, “A s the keeper of the crown, for the respect of the position and Queen, I hereby challenge you to battle, I will show you who is Superior and then you will serve ME, however I dare please.” The Mistress held her head so high, back straight, eyes flashing fiery arrows at him, standing beneath the stage of the high table, Her gaze was steady until the Dom had to look away or this demon before him would have seen the fear there.

I am challenged? He questioned “FOR what?” he demanded…..The Mistresses kicked the host into an answer, “Rule # 4, the host creaked in a shrill voice, “Is that the Queen of the ball has first pick from the unwonted submissive present at the Ball. Under breech the Queen may declare a challenge for RIGHTS to anyone slave or submissive present. The Queen will draw the weapon for the challenge.”

The Mistress was looking at the Dom the whole recitation of the Rule. She noticed a small twitch above the right eye of the Dom, small beads of perspiration formed over his upper lips. The Mistress had seen this before and she could almost smell his fear, his musk, that male smell. And Her senses began to come alive. Her yes grew harder as she maintained her gaze, and as she did his eyes caught hers again, and he couldn’t look away from the Mistress.

Through the microphone he heard “I shall pick the Violent Wand”; he then heard a gasp in the room, the crowd bowed to the GODDESS.

The change in the program was a bit unexpected. Immediately with the permission of the Mistress. The host ran to set up a Violent Wand display, unsure of exactly what the Mistress expected he had seen her play with this artifact before, even had seen her turn the wand upon herself. He hurried to set the stage for the Mistress.

Chapter 9

The Mistress stood in her dressing room admiring herself in the mirror. She turned to give instructions to her slave, niko, “Have the driver bring the car around to the front, and be sure that fresh flowers are put on the alter for the Goddess. See that the household is brought to the foyer, I want to speak with them before I leave, that is all, your dismissed.” She moved to the dressing table and picked up a cigerette, before taking his departure, niko held a flame to the end of his Mistresses cigerette. She looked into nikos eyes and held her gaze into his own for a moment, he felt weak in his knees as he bowed and move backwards towards the door before turning his back on the Mistress.

Her eyes were hypnotic. It was as if she looked into his soul and saw everything within him. The slave adored his Mistress with every emotion in him for he was nothing before he came into her service as a sub. Once in that position it wasn’t long before he gave himself to her as a slave to do as she pleased with him. And she often did do as she pleased with him, letting him hang in sub-space for a moment before summoning him back to earth.

Mistress busied herself with the final touches of preperation before crushing the cigarette out in the brass ashtray. She walked to the closet to retrieve her wrap of red lace and tiny pearls, it matched the dress she was wearing. Before leaving the confines of her chambers, the Mistress stepped before the alter to her Goddess and said a prayer for protection and wisdom. She left the rooms and went to the foyer of the house.

Assembled in the large entrance room the house staff waited for their Mistress. There were 5 males standing at attention, all were naked except for the loincloth that the cook wore when in the kitchen. There was angel, a tall blond with broad shoulders and narrow waist, he wore a cock cage over his large cock. The next slave was rikki, he took care of the grounds around the property and the pool - he was not as tall as angel, but his shoulders were as broad and narrowed hipped, his skin was darkly tanned all over for he only wore shorts when doing work outside the private garden, once inside the garden, as was mandated he was nude.

The slave niko had taken his proper place at the head of the line, it was the alpha male position for the stable of slaves, he was given special privelsges just for holding that position. The alpha male had proved his worth and value, learned the lessons quickly and followed instructions without balking. The alpha male also was the go between for the other slaves in the stable. Instruction were often given to him to give to the other males.

On the other side of the foyer corridor standing at attention as best as they could, were 2 more lesser males, they only came for the day, but they too were nude - one in a humbler and the other wore a hood over his head covering the mouth and nose. From his balls hung a parachute with a 5 pound bowling ball attached by 3 chains, it hung free when the sub stood upright, so in order to keep the weighted balls from pain he had to slightly squat and keep the ball on the floor. The only slave missing was jester, the driver and bodyguard for the Mistress.

All the slaves heard the quick clicks of the Mistress high heels on the stone floor before she entered the foyer. At the sound, all the slaves knelt on the floor, head in the triangle formed by their hands and their asses up. They waited for their Mistress to enter the room.

The Mistress stepped into the foyer, making mental notes of each slave in her presence, position and attitude all passed her scrutiny. Standing in the center of the bright hallway she turned to face the slaves on both sides of the long entrance hall, she spoke one word - “haunches“. In unison the males sat up and leaned back on their legs, waiting for their Mistress to speak or leave.

“I will be home early, make preperation for play time when I return. Have a light dinner ready”, she said to the cook, “ Smoked salmon would be nice, cookie” The cook nodded an acknowledgement. “Lay the red and black leather corset and garments out for Me niko, and the black boots with the buckles, also I noticed the water in the pool was warm last night nikki, check the thermostat tonight. Be sure everything is done before I get home and angel, the tall swede looked at the Mistress, attentively- its your turn tonight.”

All the males knew what that meant, as fair as the Mistress was between all the slaves, they all wanted those words spoken to them.

The Mistress turned towards the door, niko sprang to reach the door to open it for his Mistress, she stepped into the cool evening air, she loved this time of year, the coolness of the tropical breezes in the evenings was laced with the fresh spring flowers, the warmth of the sun during the day heating the earth from her slumber cloak of winter. A long sleek Jaquar was park under the porticol, black with gold trim, mirrored tinted windows reflected a distorted version of Her beauty, yet the eyes still shined. She looked at the reflection and smiles a satisfied grin.

The driver moved to open the door, assisting the Mistress into the backseat of the Jag, jester quickly went to the driver side of the car, opened the driver door and slipped behind the wheel. This slave was a perfect bodyguard, a tall 6’2, 200 pounds of pure muscle, from head to toe. Putting the car in gear, the car pulled away from the confines of the portical and drove down the flower lined drive, pass the iron gates and the pillars that held them, the gates slowly closed behind them.

The destination tonight was the swank, invitation only, masked fetish ball. On the seat next to the Mistress lay the red feathered mask with the tiny tear drop crystals embedded around the eye slits, they sparkled even from the faint light shining from the street lamps as the car made its way to the ball.

As regal as the Queen she was, the Mistress placed a filtered cigerret in the ebony and gold cigerette holder and placed it between her lips, rich red and full. Her posture and the tilt of her head as she smoked and peered out into the night from behind the tinted windows. The driver looked at his Mistress from the rear view mirror, noticing the tiny furrow between the Mistress’ eyebrows, she is deep in thought, he surmized to himself, always thinking this Mistress was, of what the evening would bring.

The drive to estate of a very prominent figure in state government, was uneventful and they arrived shortly after 8o’clock, the ball had started at 7:30 and people were still arriving. Some dressed in fetish wear and others in street clothes, the Mistress slipped her mask into place on her face. The car slid up to the entrance and as fast as quick silver, the rear door opened. Standing there to assist her was a nubian slave, complete with slave arm bands and loin cloth. The nubian assisted the Mistress from the confines of her car, with the grace of a gazelle she stepped onto the red brick driveway in front of the double doors to the mansion.

The Mistress could hear music coming from the ballroom. The nubian still held her hand and he bowed to kiss the finger tips of that hand. The Mistress withdrew her hand, she stepped onto the steps leading up to the doorway. People where still coming in and the ball was just beginning. Her driver was parking the car so while the Mistress waited she observed the people entering the vast mansion.

It was easy to spot the DOMs’, they postured like strutting peacocks, some in tuxedoes, some in leather wear. A few had slavegirls in tow, dressed like the sluts that they were, showing everything they had in the dress most likely picked out by their Masters. The DOMMEs entered dressed in provactive gowns and leather bustiers, russling past in their taffeta and lace. Also with subs or slaves to add to their entourage.

The evening air caught the handkerchief hemline of her own dress, playing with the fold of red lace around the skirt and tugging at the wrap around her shoulders, the tiny pearls and the crystals on the mask sparkled in the dim light on the drive way, the breeze caught her perfume as well. Between the scent of the flowers and the scent of the Mistress, the mingled scents danced in the air, in compitition for who would engulf those that stood on the drive waiting to be brought into the house.

Depending on the degree one held in the BDSM community was how well your presence was announced. A doorman stood at the ballroom dark mahogany doors and made the others aware of who was entering the ballrom. It was much like the BDSM community had its own Kings and Queens, followed by a sub or slave, of which their name was obviously left out of the fanfair.

The Mistress was growing impatient waiting for her jester, when he suddenly appeared at her side, he was dressed in a tiger loin cloth, barefooted, with a slaves collar around his neck and a brass ring on the front of the collar for his chain. The jesters’ tall frame and muscular body was stooped to keep his head lower than the Mistress’, he handed her his chain and as if on que, the sound of her own theme song filled the night air. She stepped in the entrance way of the mansion with her slave walking 3 steps behind her. The chain entwined in her fingers.

The doorman announced the Mistress over a pa system, presenting the Mistress Lady Zaggo, he boomed to the gathering of the court.

People began to turn towards the door, waiting for the Mistress to make her entrance. The new people didn’t know exactly what was happening and turned to see who or what was entering the ballroom.

The music sang “When you came in the sir went out, and all those shadows filled up with doubt” the lyrics and beat of the drums announced the Mistress. She stood in the entrance, all eyes upon her, the glistening body, the rise and fall of her full plump breast rose and fell like the tide. Even her perfume permmiated over the other Dommes perfume and the flower scent in the air. The room filled with the smell of incense.

The host of the ball approached the Mistress and asked if he could accompany her to her chair? The Mistress nodded and offered up a red leather gloved hand. The host could feel the strength of the hand, yet also noted how gentle she held his fingertips. Shudders went up the host back, keeping his eyes lowered he looked at her feet, the shape of the foot, the red painted toenails, the small straps that defied the foot yet held fast to keep the leather on the floor.

The Mistress was lead to a large table at the head of the tables set in a semicircle at one end of the chandeliered ballroom, No one moved, it seemed as if the Mistress was gliding on a cloud of red lace and sparkling diamonds. With the slave still 3 steps behind her she moved with the host to her place at the head of the table. Pulling the high backed chair out for the Mistress to make herself comfortable in her position as a Queen. The host excuced himself with her permission to attend to other guests, the Mistress dismissed him with the wave of her hand.

From this table she gazed out to those who had observed her entrance, some where wishpering and others smiled. Her wonton smile across the room was as a signal for the festivities to begin. Her jester moved over to the bar and was returning with a glass of sparkling wine, for the Mistress didn’t drink alcohol. Placing the goblet before his mistress he quickly took his place on the floor next to her chair and placed the chain in her gloved hand once more.

The music played heavy rock with a pulsating beat - fuck music as the Mistress often called it. Nothing else would have been approapriate. Several other people had entered the ball, but without as much fanfair as hers, they were lesser characters on the guest list.

The Mistress watched as the gathering for ball continued. The Doms postulated and the Dommes primped. Each inspected the slaves in tow and those that had been invited to find a Dom or Domme of there own. The host was a bottom sub, dressed in high heels, a blue garter belt, matching blue panties, blue apron and a plain blue mask. Red or black were always reserved for the Dommes and Doms to wear. White meant virgins to the lifestyle, offering up of fresh meat, a sacrifice of sorts. Blue meant they were sub but unowned, pink was for the slave girls or they were naked, green was for the subs who were owned but not in attendence with their owner, yellow for the switches, the Mistress thought the color was just right for them - cowards to make a stand for what they really wanted.

In various stages of dress or nude, the parade past the high head table went on until all at the ball and bowed or curtseies before the Mistress Lady Zaggo, she sipping her sparkling wine and smiled at each in the procession.

The host took his place on the left of the Mistress, his chair lower to the ground and therefore keeping his head lower than that of the Lady, sitting as a Queen in her chair, back stright, her long neck held her beautiful head regally, her eyes shining like deep green emeralds.

The Mistress noted a special male in the introductions, a handsome specimen. Tall, narrow hips, broad shoulders, muscular arms….he wore a white loin cloth, but beneath the folds of the silk his manhood could be clearly seen.

She had made a gesture to jester to find out who he was, the slave took the chain from his Mistresses gloved hand. Making his way to the back of the ball room he finally found the virgin sub speaking with a slavegirl who was nude except for the slave bracelet and heavy iron collar around her slender neck. The sub in white was nodding and saying something to the slavegirl, jester stood close to them until the slave girl left and he touched the sub in white on the arm, they faced one another. Jester told the new sub that Mistress Lady Zaggo wished his precense at the high table, puzzled the sub in white said that a Master from California had just invited him to his table. The jester turned back to head for the high table alone. Mistress Zaggo was watching the transaction and noted jesteres’ return without the sub in white.

Her gaze became one of solid ice. The jester returned to his place next to his Mistress, eyes lowered he told his Mistress of what had happened.

There was a new Dom among them who didn’t know the proper protocol for the ball and the BDSM community. Watching across the room the Mistress watched as the sub in white headed towards the table were the createn was sitting.

Proper protocol mandated that the Queen of the ball got first choice of the unattended subs or slaves. Once the choice was made the sub/slave would be brought to the table and made to sit on the left side of the Mistress. It was then that the room was open for selling, trading or commandeering those who were open for either a Dom or a Domme. This new comer hadn’t been told of the etiquette for making approaches, to wait until the Queen had made her request for a champion for the evening, someone who would have been totally at the mercy of the Queen.

By votes the Mistress had held her position as the Queen for several years. The position was put up for votes by those who were members in good standing with the BDSM community. The Queen was to be the center of all activities within the hive of players. A breech of protocol could mean excommunication from the hive. Tribute was paid to the Queen from all members, sub or slave, Dom or Domme. For it was this Queen who had made the hive in the first place.

The Queen peered at the new comer and was just getting ready to corner the host about this breech, when she heard the announcement for the entertainment to begin.

The Mistress’ eyes were flashing like lightening, the air in the ballroom crackled with energy, but the Mistress held her gaze at the newcoming Dom.

Only the jester could tell that the Mistress was deep in thought, the raised left eyebrow and the tiny furrow between those eyebrows told him that something was brewing.