Chapter Two

Mistress Black stood beside her throne-like chair in the heart of The Control Zone, her tight black catsuit shimmering under the flicker of the gothic chandeliers above. The glossy material clung to her athletic frame, tracing the pert swell of her B-cup breasts and the sharp taper of her slim waist, where a studded belt showed off her silhouette. Gemma’s 4-inch stiletto boots anchored her stance as her piercing blue eyes blazed with barely contained fury.

The Domme’s dark brunette hair cascaded in glossy, perfectly maintained waves, framing her sexy face and cupid bow lips, which had twisted into a scowl. The revelation of Trevor’s latest decision to hire that blonde interloper, Cassandra Clarke, or Queen Elektra as she introduced herself to the club’s patrons churned in her mind. Worse still, Cassie’s inexplicable resistance to Gemma’s mind manipulation gnawed at her confidence. No one had been able to resist her control before.

Gemma groaned aloud, a sultry sound laced with vindictive venom that reverberated around the sparsely lit main bar area. “Who does that bitch think she is?” she muttered to herself, her voice dripping with indignation. Before her knelt a naked male slave, his wrists bound behind his back with black leather cuffs, a silver ring gag stretching his lips into a vulnerable O. His eyes, wide with submissive adoration for his Mistress, fixed on the polished stone floor as directed.

The matriarchal Domme’s gaze snapped down to him as her fury sought an outlet. She bent at the hips and gently cupped the slave’s chin, directing him to stare up at her before she spat inside his open, inviting mouth, prompting the slave to wince. She tugged the naked man’s hair as a muffled whimper escaped his gagged lips, but he held his position like a good boy.

Gemma released the slave’s hair, her latex-clad arms flailing in a surge of exasperation as she clumsily took a step back. Her elbow collided with a silver drinks tray carried by a topless waitress gliding past. Crystal glasses of red wine shattered on the floor, their contents splashing all over the surface in a crimson arc.

The waitress froze in terror, her hands flying to her bright red lips, a gasp escaping her. Gemma narrowed her eyes and focused on her slave, her blue eyes flashing with irritation. “Clean it up now, you pathetic worm,” she snarled at him. “Use your tongue, and make it spotless.” She then turned her attention to the poor waitress. “Get out of my sight before I find a better use for you.”

The waitress scurried away and vanished into the shadows of the club as the slave crawled forward on his knees. The man lowered his face to the crimson spill, careful to avoid the shattered glass, and lapped up the sticky wine with his tongue in desperate obedience.

Gemma folded her arms and placed her high-heeled foot possessively on her slave’s back as her lips curled into a cruel smirk. “That’s right, worm,” she purred venomously. “You know your place.”

Mistress Black’s gaze lifted from her groveling slave, and she stepped toward the club’s main bar, the sound of her stiletto heels echoing around the room. The fetish bar was beginning to fill up, and she grinned to herself; she had successfully convinced Trevor to loosen the entry requirements during the festival, and it looked to have paid off. She should pay him a visit later and demand an increased cut of the entry fee, she thought.

The brunette Domme leaned against the bar, her smooth latex catsuit shining against the moody lighting, and watched a crowd form near a velvet curtain. Raising an eyebrow, Gemma approached until she got a good view of the scene unfolding. Her stomach twisted with disdain as she witnessed Cassandra Clarke, Queen Elektra, the newest house Domme, commanding the presence of the crowd in an emerald green leather corset that perfectly sculpted her D-cup breasts into a provocative swell and black leather hot pants that hugged her curvaceous hips.

A male patron knelt over a spanking bench, his wrists and ankles bound with thick leather straps, and his naked body was taut with anticipation. Cassie raised a polished black paddle and delivered a sharp strike to his exposed buttocks. The crack echoed fiercely, drawing a gasp from the crowd and a groan from the man. “Thank you, Queen Elektra,” he said reverently.

Cassie’s full lips curved into a serene smile, her green eyes glinting with quiet authority as she circled the bound patron, running a fingernail caressingly along the small of his back. Her technique was far different from Gemma’s. Whereas Gemma demanded blind obedience and offered a fierce attitude, Cassie provided a sensual experience that lulled her slaves into a false sense of security.

“You crave this discipline, don’t you, sweetie?” The blonde Domme purred with a velvet, sweet voice that wrapped around the crowd, drawing them deeper into her spell.

The client nodded eagerly, his voice trembling with devotion. “Yes, Queen Elektra, I crave your discipline.”

Gemma shook her head and folded her arms tighter. The crowd’s pathetic adoration grated on her nerves. There was something not right about this bitch, she thought, and Gemma needed to get rid of her. “Amateur,” she muttered under her breath. “This little slut thinks she can waltz in here and steal my throne?” Her blue eyes narrowed, tracing Cassie’s every move. “I’ll send that Barbie doll back to LA bound in a box if I have to.” The brunette Domme allowed herself a grin. She couldn’t wait to see Trevor’s face when his newest employee was bound and struggling under her control. Gemma would have the last laugh; she always did.

❖

Forty-five minutes later, Cassie’s spanking demonstration had ended, the crowd’s excited murmurs fading as they dispersed from the velvet-curtained alcove. The blonde wiped down the spanking bench with a sanitized cloth, her movements precise as she cleaned the leather surface. The formerly bound male patron had thanked the club’s Mistress and headed to the club’s main bar area with his friends.

Gemma seized the moment and strode towards the alcove, her heels clicking with predatory intent. She stopped before the bench, folding her arms and staring down at her new colleague with a scowling fury.

Cassie glanced up at the catsuited Domme, who was looking down at her, and paused with a disarming smile. “Well, hello, Mistress Black,” she said sweetly. “It’s great to see you.” The blonde laid the cloth down on the bench. “What can I do for you?”

The brunette Domme’s lips twisted into a sneer, her voice dripping with contempt. “Your pathetic little performance out there was weak and childish, Cassie,” she said, refusing to use her dominant stage name. “You call yourself a Queen? You’re a joke. There’s only one queen inside The Control Zone, and you’re looking at her!” Most people would shy away from direct confrontation, but Gemma thrived on it.

Infuriatingly, Cassie’s smile widened, her green eyes sparkling with calm confidence. “I’m flattered that you saw my performance, and I will take your critique on board, Mistress Black,” she said with a smooth and inviting tone. “We could learn so much from each other’s techniques. Perhaps we could even share a joint session. That will certainly draw a crowd, don’t you think?”

Gemma’s fury surged, her fists clenching in frustration as Cassie’s polite deflection steered the conversation away from her intended humiliation. “The only time we’ll work together is when I have you on your hands and knees, crawling like the bitch you are!” she barked back with a heightened octave.

Immediately after speaking, the brunette Domme focused her will, staring intensely into Cassie’s emerald eyes, and surged inside her new colleague’s mind, something she had done to hundreds of men and women before without any resistance. However, much like the previous night, Gemma’s mental probe slammed into an unyielding block, a steel wall that halted her attack on the blonde’s mind.

Cassie’s smile remained serene and unbothered, her gaze unwavering as she tilted her head curiously. “Did you know,” she said calmly, “that a soccer team that focuses on all-out attack is usually left vulnerable in defense?” she said cryptically, her voice soft but carrying a subtle juvenile menace with it.

Gemma froze, a strange shift stirring within her mind as if her own thoughts had been nudged. It was a tickling sensation she had never experienced before, and the experience startled her. Confusion gripped the brunette, and she stumbled back a step, her fists loosening. The sensation vanished as quickly as it arrived, leaving the Domme disoriented and rattled. She blinked rapidly, her blue eyes darting, searching Cassie’s face for any hint of what had just happened.

Mistress Black’s modest chest heaved, her confusion morphing into raw fury as she regained her footing. “Just stay out of my way, Cassie,” she snarled with venom. “You have no idea who you’re messing with, and I can make you pay the consequences in ways you can’t imagine!”

Cassie shrugged, her smile continuing, and picked up the damp cloth, resuming her cleaning with casual indifference. “There’s no need for threats, Mistress Black,” she said, her tone light and almost playful. “We both know who the real queen around here is.” Without elaborating further, Cassie gave her associate a knowing glance as she wiped down the surface.

Gemma groaned in frustration. She clenched her fists again and whirled away from the alcove, storming towards the door that led to her private dungeon with furious strides. She approached that conversation confident in her abilities to take that bitch down a peg, but she left with more questions than answers.

As she made her way down the swirling steps, she thought about her next move. She had three obedient Dommes hanging on her every word, thanks to her special powers. They each had their own unique skills and would do whatever the matriarch commanded. Those three would do the heavy lifting, and Gemma would simply swoop in and take the credit for booting the bitch out of Pineview. The brunette grinned to herself as she unlocked her dungeon door, a kneeling slave greeting her presence with a reverent bow. She’d talk to one of the girls and set her next plan in motion, just as soon as she dealt with this sniffling slave, she thought.

❖

After the session, Gemma dismissed her wealthy slave, sending him crawling out of her private dungeon with a sharp kick to his rear. She settled back onto her throne and returned her mind back to the Cassie problem. Like clockwork, a knock sounded at the Domme’s heavy dungeon door. She rose and opened it up to find Lila Voss, or Mistress Knot as patrons knew her, standing there, her electric blue PVC dress hugging her creamy-skinned frame.

“I was told you wanted to see me, Mistress Black,” Lila said nervously. Being summoned by Gemma alone was never an enjoyable experience for the house Dommes.

Gemma’s lips formed a sly smile, inviting her colleague inside before taking her seat back on the throne. “Yes, Lila. I’m afraid work has gotten around,” she said, her tone laced with mock concern. “People are saying your binding techniques are not what they used to be. They say that you have become quite predictable, and your knots are easy to escape.” The matriarch knew how proud Lila was of her bondage skills and knew exactly how to press the redhead’s buttons.

Lila’s eyes widened, her intricate braid swaying as she shook her head. “That’s not true,” she said, her voice sharp with offense. “My knots are not just the best in Pineview. I’m the best in the entire damn United States!”

The brunette Domme leaned forward with her voice dropping to a manipulative purr. “That’s what everyone is saying, Lila,” she said, her eyes glinting with malice. “You need a dramatic performance to prove you’re still the best knotter in the business.”

The redhead slowly nodded, her resolve hardening. “You’re right,” she said with a firm voice. “I need a performance to remind them that I’m the best.”

Gemma’s smile sharpened, her fingers tapping the throne’s armrest. “Our newest colleague, Cassie, is about to start a bondage demonstration upstairs,” she said, her voice dripping with intent. “Imagine how much of an impact you’d make if you interrupted her show and bound our ‘friend’ up like a perfectly packaged gift?” The brunette grinned at the visual image. “That would put you back on the map.”

Lila’s eyes widened as she shuddered, her lips parting in hesitation. “Uhmm, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” she said cautiously. “Queen Elektra doesn’t seem like the type who’d enjoy being trussed up.”

The brunette Domme sighed as her eyes narrowed, prompting Lila to stiffen as if she knew exactly what was coming next. Gemma looked directly into the redhead’s eyes and surged into her mind with a commanding force, far easier than her attempt earlier in the evening. “You don’t get a choice, Lila. You will head upstairs right now and do everything you can to tightly bind and humiliate Queen Elektra,” she said with a low and unyielding voice. “I want to see that little bitch writhing around on my dungeon floor within the next hour. Do you understand?”

The bondage expert’s gaze went blank, her lips moving mechanically as Gemma’s will seeped into the woman’s mind. “Yes, Mistress,” she said, turning reluctantly toward the staircase, unable to fight the explicit instruction in her head, and left the dungeon, heading upstairs towards the main stage.

The moderate crowd along the edge of the stage was growing as Cassie began binding a female volunteer in her underwear with a strand of black rope, giving tips and instructions to the audience as she carefully wrapped the material around the woman’s wrists.

There was a murmur as Lila stormed onto the stage, her voice cutting through Cassie’s presentation. “Hold it right there!” She snatched a coil of red rope from a nearby table and strode toward the blonde Domme.

Cassie paused mid-knot and adjusted her green corset as the redheaded binder approached. Her brow furrowed, and she moved away from the beautiful volunteer, her eyes focusing on Lila’s next move. “What’s this about, Mistress Knot?” she said, her tone calm but curious.

Lila snapped the rope harshly as it provided an audible crack in the air. “I’m the damn bondage expert around here,” she exclaimed. “I’ll show you exactly how to tie an inescapable knot.” She approached the blonde.

Queen Elektra’s lips curved into a pleasant smile as she figured out what was going on. Her gaze locked onto Lila’s, much like Gemma’s had a few moments earlier. “I think that’s a great idea, Lila,” she said, her will surging into Lila’s mind with a ferocity the redhead had never felt before, overpowering Gemma’s command with effortless precision, and writing some of her own.

Lila’s eyes widened, her hands trembling as she inexplicably unzipped her blue PVC dress from the back, letting it slide to the floor. The crowd began cheering when the redheaded Domme began unfastening her white bra and slipping out of her panties, leaving her completely naked in nothing except the 4-inch heels.

The bondage expert took the rope in her hand and began expertly weaving the material around herself, her fingers moving with professional accuracy, crafting a tight harness that cinched her breasts and crotch, lifting her modest breasts invitingly and pressing between her slit and sitting on her clit teasingly.

Lila was a true bondage artist, capable of tying intricate knots and perfectly symmetrical harnesses. She demonstrated her true skills by wrapping the harness around her own body without the aid of a mirror or a helper, and then wrapping the rope around her arms behind her back, pulling on an errant cord that tightened the knot and left her in an inescapable, full-body harness with an armbinder-style finish.

Cassie stepped forward with an appreciative smile, examining the redhead’s work. “Very good, Lila,” she said to the audience’s chuckles. “However, I think we can make it a little tighter still. Don’t you think?” She asked rhetorically before deftly tightening each of Lila’s knots, the red rope biting deeper into the house Domme’s skin, forcing the crotch rope deeper against her clit, and pronouncing her tits even further.

The blonde Domme picked up a large red ball gag from the table, its shocking red shade matching the ropes and Lila’s hair, and held it before the bound woman’s trembling lips. “Open wide, Lila,” Cassie commanded, prompting the shuddering, helpless woman to part her lips instinctively. The crowd roared as Queen Elektra forcefully pushed the wide gag inside the bondage artist’s waiting mouth.

A knock rapped sharply at Gemma’s dungeon door, pulling her from her throne with a surge of anticipation. She grinned as she envisioned Lila’s triumphant return with a bound Cassie dumped at Mistress Black’s feet. However, as she flung the door open, she gasped at the sight of Queen Elektra standing there, pushing a tightly trussed Lila forward. The redhead’s well-presented naked body was trembling, and her gagged lips had begun to drool around the giant red ball in her mouth.

“I think this one belongs to you,” Cassie’s smile taunted the brunette matriarch. “Your attacks are so predictable, Mistress Black. You’ll need to try much harder than that if you want to get rid of me.” The blonde bombshell glanced at Lila, her tone softening. “Come find me when you want to get out of those ropes, pet.” With a final smirk, Cassie sauntered back upstairs, leaving Gemma stunned.

Gemma’s fists clenched, and her fury surged as she grabbed Lila’s bound shoulders. “What the fuck did she do to you?” She asked furiously.

The redhead’s muffled “Mmmph!” through the large red gag offered no insight into how the new Domme was able to overpower the club’s signature bondage artist so easily.

Gemma fumbled at the gag’s clasp behind Lila’s head, only to find a small padlock sealing the ball in place. Frustrated, she tugged at the ropes, her nails scraping against the extremely tight knots. Each pull proved futile as every attempt to remove the rope tightened the harness even further.

The brunette Domme stepped back, her chest heaving with frustration, as her mind contemplated the ramifications of Cassie’s victory. That blonde bitch had outsmarted her again, turning her own mind-controlled Domme into a bondage masterpiece. Gemma was going to make that slut pay, although she was quickly running out of backup plans.

❖

Gemma left Lila bound and gagged in her dungeon, ignoring the redhead’s muffled pleading whimpers as she stormed out. She marched to Trevor’s office, ignoring the occasional staff member who stopped to say hi, and burst through the office door without knocking.

Trevor sat behind his desk, his navy suit unbuttoned, head tilted back in pleasure as a young woman knelt between his legs, her lips working his exposed cock in a job interview that had devolved into an illicit audition.

“Scram!” Gemma barked at the woman, her voice thick with fury and malice.

The woman, in a white button-up shirt and tight black leather skirt, gasped and scrambled to her feet, wiping her mouth as she hurried out, the door slamming behind her. Trevor groaned as he zipped up his pants, staring at Gemma with irritation.

“I was just about to hire that girl,” he said. “She was full of spark and a can-do attitude. What’s with the interruption, Gemma?”

“You really are a gross piece of shit, Trevor,” the house Domme snapped, her fists clenching before she changed the subject. “You need to fire Cassie like yesterday. She’s not the right fit for this club, and you know it.”

Trevor leaned back in his chair and shook his head with a smug grin. “I disagree,” he said with a steady voice. “You pushed for relaxing the entry requirements during the festival, and it’s been a goldmine for business. Cassie’s a breath of fresh air, and our new customers are just eating her up. They love her.”

Gemma’s eyes blazed. “That bitch struts around acting like she’s the damn queen, Trevor!” Her voice rose with indignation. “We both know this club can only have one queen, and that’s me!”

Trevor gently rose from his chair and stood up, stepping around the desk to meet her face-to-face. “You’re always advocating for a survival of the fittest culture in the club, Gemma,” he said matter-of-factly. “Don’t you always go on about how the alphas always claw their way to the top? If you want Cassie gone, go ahead and prove your dominance. Show me you’re still the alpha.”

Gemma’s contained fury unleashed as she exploded, lunging forward and wrapping her hand around Trevor’s neck. With all of her might, she pushed him back and slammed the wealthy club owner against the wall with a thud.

Trevor began to lift his hands in resistance, but she stared into the man’s eyes and entered his mind with extreme ease. “Stop,” she hissed, her voice dropping with venom.

The club owner’s arm fell limp, his eyes glazing over under her control, and Gemma’s lips curled into a cruel grin. “I think I’ve been far too lenient with you, Trevor,” she said as she tightened her grip around the man’s neck. “Letting you play big boss man when we both know who runs this club.”

The Domme leaned closer until her lips were brushing Trevor’s ear, her breathing hot against his lobe. “With one command, I could make your pathetic cock stay flaccid forever,” she whispered with a seductive threat. “Maybe your interviews will go a little more professionally if that were the case.” The brunette paused, “Or perhaps I should just lock you in a cage as my simpering slave and take full control of the club myself.”

Trevor’s eyes widened, feeling Gemma’s influence floating around inside his mind, ready to alter his behavior in any way she desired. “No, please,” he managed to mutter as the Domme’s grip on his throat closed tighter.

Gemma’s eyes narrowed as the brunette prepared to bend Trevor’s will completely. “Remember, this is just a warning shot, and it won’t humiliate you too much, maybe,” she grinned. However, before she could assault the older man’s mind, a sudden jolt, like a switch flipping in her mind, stopped her cold, an inexplicable urge pulling her elsewhere.

The Domme’s hand loosened, falling from the man’s neck as Trevor slumped against the wall, gasping. Confusion flashed across Gemma’s face; she had somewhere to be. Without any direction from her own mind, her body turned and began walking out of the bemused man’s office. “What the fu—” the Domme could be heard shouting before she left the room and headed out of the club.

❖

Gemma’s feet continued moving by themselves, an invisible force pulling her through Pineview’s streets, her black latex catsuit gleaming under the streetlights. It was rare to find Gemma out and about in her fetish attire unless she was heading to the club, and her outfit turned some heads even as the area was preparing for the upcoming fetish festival.

The Domme found herself approaching her regular hair salon, Glamor & Locks, the glass door reflecting her tense expression as she pushed it open, the chime of a bell announcing her arrival.

Lindsay, a blonde stylist in a white studded mini-dress, looked up from her station and furrowed her brow with confusion. “Mistress Black?” she queried with surprise. “Your touch-up isn’t scheduled until next week, and… the outfit? Is everything okay?”

Gemma’s lips parted, her voice emerging with an unnatural calm that felt alien to her raging mind. “I’m here for something else,” she said, the words slipping out as if they were rehearsed by another. The Domme’s body moved forward, guided by an unseen force, ignoring the confusion knotted in her thoughts.

Lindsay hesitated for a moment. She had known Gemma for a number of years and knew the brunette wasn’t one for spur-of-the-moment surprises. Still, she knew better than to question the woman’s authority, and money was money, so she stepped aside. “Well, alright, let’s get you settled,” she said with a wary but professional tone. She led Gemma to her workstation, and as the Domme sank into the comfortable chair, a sudden blur clouded her vision. The brunette’s head lolled, and her awareness faded into a void as time dissolved around her.

In what felt like mere moments, Gemma’s eyes fluttered open, and her gaze locked onto the mirror before her, a gasp catching in her throat at the stranger staring back. Her sleek brunette hair had vanished, replaced by shockingly bright, candy-pink waves tumbling down her back in lush curls. Her face was transformed, slathered with heavy makeup: glossy pink lips filling in deep pink lipliner that made her lips appear bigger and more pronounced than they actually were, framed by vivid blush and impossibly long dark lashes that fluttered with every blink. Her nails, once short, blunt, and black, were now long, stiletto-shaped, and glossy bright pink, shimmering under the salon’s lights like polished jewels.

Lindsay shifted nervously behind the chair as she combed the finishing touches on the bright pink hair that was now Gemma’s very reality. “So, what do you think, Mistress Black?” she asked cautiously. “It’s a drastic change from your usual look, but you insisted on this style. I only gave you what you asked for.” The woman softly bit her lower lip as if she were preparing for the punishment that was heading her way if the Domme hated the look.

Gemma’s mouth betrayed her again, stretching into a radiant smile as her body acted against her will. “I absolutely love it,” she said, her voice dripping with forced delight, each word masking her true horror. She reached into her purse, pulled out her credit card with those alien pink nails, and handed it to Lindsay. “Charge it, and add a 50% tip for your generous work,” she added with a sickeningly sweet tone. Lindsay’s eyes widened, Gemma was not one to tip at all, let alone so generously, but she swiped the card and handed it back to the pink-haired Domme as she processed the payment.

The newly stylized Domme stepped outside Glamor & Locks, and her body abruptly snapped back under her control, the invisible force releasing its grip. “Fucking hell!” she snarled in her familiar tone as she stared at the humiliating glossy nails attached to her fingers. Fury surged in the matriarch’s mind as she thought about the culprit. This had to be Cassie’s work. That bitch had blocked her mental manipulation attempts and somehow found a way inside Gemma’s mind. She didn’t know how the blonde slut had pulled it off, but Gemma was certain that she’d have the last laugh.

The heavily made-up woman stormed down Main Street, drawing the attention of passersby with her bright new look, which completely contrasted with the tight black catsuit. Lila was a great knotter, but she didn’t have the cunning or ferocity for this type of fight. Gemma thought about Sasha and her penchant for sadistic pain, before allowing herself to grin. She was the perfect pawn to take the newcomer down a peg or three. With a new plan forming in her mind, Gemma ignored the stares and strutted down the street, heading back toward The Control Zone.

❖

Gemma stood in her dungeon, her candy-pink hair and glossy acrylic nails clashing with her restored Dominant demeanor after having rubbed off the heavy makeup from the salon the moment she entered the club. She glared at Mistress Knot, still bound and gagged, her red rope harness now clipped to the wall to prevent her from toppling, her desperate pleas kept incoherent by the huge ball in her mouth. Gemma’s fingers traced the ropes, still searching for a way to untie the knots without giving Cassie the satisfaction of begging her for help, but the intricate binds refused to yield.

As Gemma rested back on her throne, a sharp knock echoed through the dungeon door. It was unlocked this time, and after inviting the occupant in, Sasha Crane, the African-American House Domme, more commonly known as Lady Thorn, stepped inside. Her black crop top revealed a toned midriff, and her leather pants hugged her toned legs and sizable ass.

The black Domme’s eyes widened at Lila’s predicament, her glossy lips parting in shock. “What the hell happened here, Mistress Black?” she asked, her voice tinged with confusion.

Gemma waved a hand dismissively, her pink nails catching the torchlight and golding Sasha’s bemused attention. “It’s none of your concern, Sasha,” she said sharply. “We need to focus on you. I have a task for you.”

Sasha’s brow furrowed, and her arms crossed over her crop top. “What kind of task, and what have you done to your hair?” she asked inquisitively, a subtle amused grin struggling to spread across her face as she stared at the matriarchal leader of the club.

The pink-haired Domme’s eyes narrowed as she ignored the confused comment about her hair. “People are whispering that you’ve lost your edge, Sasha,” she said, her voice laced with calculated venom. She knew how proud the Domme was of her reputation. “They claim you’re no longer a true pain Domme. You’ve simply lost your edge.”

Sasha’s face flushed with indignation, and she clenched her fists by her side. “That’s a fucking lie!” she snapped, her usual snappy voice sharp with offense. “Who’s been spreading this crap? Give me their names, and I’ll make sure they know what true pain feels like.”

Gemma’s lips curled into a predatory grin, savoring the African-American’s fiery reaction. “Queen Elektra’s been running her mouth,” she said maliciously. “She’s been telling everyone that you’re a has-been, and she’d the new pain Domme in town.”

The black-haired Domme’s eyes narrowed as she stepped closer to Gemma’s throne. “Elektra doesn’t even know me,” she said furiously. “She’s got no right talking shit about my skills.”

Gemma leaned forward as her pink nails clicked against the leather armrest of her throned chair. Her eyes locked onto Sasha’s. “Elektra doesn’t care about your reputation,” she said menacingly. “She’s after your clients, your status.” The pink-haired Domme surged into her manipulated colleague’s mind, her will a commanding force as she bent the Domme’s thoughts and actions with ease. “Find Cassie and show her who the real pain Domme is. Humiliate her like you’ve never humiliated anyone before, and make an example out of her,” Gemma ordered with a slight grin on her face, “Don’t stop until she’s writhing in pain and begging for mercy. When she’s fully broken, send her to me.”

Sasha’s body stiffened, and her eyes glazed as the command took root. “Yes, Mistress,” she said with a flat, monotonous voice before turning and striding out to teach the new Dominatrix a lesson.

Three hours later, Gemma was still impatiently waiting on her throne for further news. She sighed as her patience snapped, her nails drumming furiously against the throne. Sasha hadn’t returned, and the silence grated on her nerves.

The Dominatrix stormed out of the dungeon, leaving a bound, naked Lila behind, her heels clicking with urgency, and pushed through the crowded bar area, ignoring the stares and whispers regarding Gemma’s new style.

Near the bar, the matriarch Dominatrix froze, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of Sasha’s transformed figure. The African-American’s crop top and tight leather pants were gone, replaced by nothing except for a pair of black semi-transparent crotchless panties, black fishnet stockings, and 10-inch extreme ballet shoes with silver padlocks glinting on the buckles.

Silver barbells were pierced in her exposed nipples, and weighted bells jingled softly to the dark-skinned Domme’s every movement. Another barbell pierced the woman’s clit, with its bulb shining through the almost transparent underwear. A “Pain Slut” tattoo blazed just above her pelvis, mirrored by a black choker etched with the same words around her neck. The woman before her looked nothing like the powerful pain Domme that Gemma knew. Sasha stood dazed, with her hands trembling and her eyes unfocused.

Gemma’s pink nails clenched into fists, and she immediately gasped in pain and unclenched them, unused to their long, sharp shape. “What the hell happened to you, Sasha?” she demanded, stepping closer to the trembling Domme.

Sasha’s voice quivered as her eyes darted nervously. “I, uhh, confronted Queen Elektra,” she said with a shaky bravado. “She didn’t like my confrontational tone, and everything went blurry after that. I don’t know how, but that bitch did something to me.”

Before Gemma had an opportunity to respond, Sasha’s hands suddenly shot to her pierced nipples, and began pinching them fiercely and painfully as the woman cried out in pain. “I’m sorry for cussing,” she whimpered before her hands dropped down by their side. Sasha’s eyes widened in horror as if she had no intention of saying those words or pinching her own nipples harshly.

Gemma gasped, her mind reeling as she recognized the unmistakable signs of mind manipulation. It was beyond doubt in Gemma’s mind that Cassie wielded a chilling mirror of her own powers. “Fuck,” she groaned. Two of her Dommes, feared in their own rights, had been easily taken down by the new blonde house Domme. Not only had Cassie entered their minds, but she had overwritten Gemma’s own mental commands in the process.

“Head to my dungeon and wait for me there,” she ordered the humiliated pain Domme, now looking more like a pain slut. “I’m going to have a little chat with our blonde friend myself.”

“No need,” the taunting voice immediately behind Gemma brought a shudder down her spine. The new pink-haired Domme turned around and found Cassie standing proudly before her. “I love what you’ve done to your hair; it’s very you. And those nails, to die for.” She mocked Mistress Black, her tone far more menacing than their conversation earlier on in the day.

Gemma’s pink nails twitched, her fury boiling as she faced her new nemesis. The anger rose within her to such an extent that she couldn’t form the words racing through her mind. Cassie broke the silence. “You’re right, though, Gemma,” she said, using Gemma’s real name for the first time. “I think it’s time for an honest conversation.” She grinned with an unnerving smirk.

Gemma took a step back to increase the space between the two and stared furiously into the blonde’s eyes. The pink-haired Domme had always relished a challenge, but she may have finally met her match in Cassie.

End of Chapter Two