Lord Impaler

Continued from: Halloween Harem

In keeping with our Halloween theme this week, it seems young Cassandra and Carley have made their way to the far side of Romania. Makes sense, given the dark, gothic nature of those two and the time of year. She sent me an entry from her personal journal which I'll transcribe for all of you here, I didn't realize Cassandra can be so deep sometimes, amidst her introspection and the way she creates a nexus between herself, her feelings, and the environment around her; albeit, a bit spastic of a writing style.

She even caught me with a few tear-jerker moments. I adore this little pixie. 

Here's her journal entry:

Cassandra Goth

10.30.2024

Port of Constanta, Black Sea, Romania...

It's cold here, Mistress. The food sucks.

I have the loving embrace of Carley to keep me warm though, in this strange place.  

Actually, their cabbage rolls are quite nice, even though they have Turkish origins. I guess when the Turks invaded Romania in the 15th century, repelled by the ferocity and questionable combat methods of Vlad Dracul, they left something behind. 

Is that not one of Newton's laws? In order for humans to really go anywhere, you have to leave something behind. What shall I leave behind here, on the shores of this sea? The sky above me looks angry, the water is frigid. This is a dark place, Mistress and your cabbage rolls are better! 

Since it's almost Halloween, I learned some things about Vlad, and his marred reputation of being the bad guy. Was he? Was he not a leader just trying to protect his people, his religion and his homeland from an invading foreign ruler?  

He was the first military leader in recorded history to use biological warfare as a tactic to soften the battlefield and a compliment to his psychological warfare. 

He released people from his prisons, often afflicted with bubonic plague, rabies and tuberculosis, to infiltrate the encampments of the Turks. Apparently he even used animals for the same purpose.

Symptoms:

Red eyes, foaming at the mouth, coughing up blood, erratic behaviour

Carriers:

15th century prison rats, wolves and foxes, rodents. A bat is a rodent...

You can see how the concept of a vampire was born, through a mixture of both legend and reality. This is also the reason why Carley and I find ourselves here. We are attending a vampire party in Transylvania tonight. I'm excited! I might get a new tattoo, a sexy vampire one to commemorate this trip. 

What else did we leave behind when Carley and I embarked on this European journey? Our sissy...Mistress, we have a sissy slave. He goes by Alice and he's back in the U.K. His chastity keys however, are with me, in Romania. You taught me well, Ma'am. Should I cast them into the sea before me? Into these angry waters, as the item I leave behind? He's nice though, not like other men, he's polite and we're working on shattering the remnants of his masculinity.  

Men in general, have never held much appeal for me. Their posturing, their arrogance, their inflated sense of self-importance - it all reeks of a desperate need to assert dominance over others, particularly women. 

I collared Carley as my own, shortly after the wedding. She's submissive only to me and never to a man! With Alice we are equals, Carley and I, she is surprisingly as dominant and as ferocious as I am, Mistress. I want you to get to know her, my wife, she's my everything. Maybe one day I'll come home and convince her to stay in Canada.

I miss you, Mistress. You're like a mother to me and I love you for that. I haven't talked to my actual Mom in awhile, not since she found out about the wedding. Could you talk to her for me, and tell her I'm ok?

I don't know if I wanna come home, but it's you, it's Summer, who I miss the most. Send Summer my love, tell her I miss her too. I'm not sure I can picture a world without you two in my life.  

I miss your firm guidance and support, the kind that only you can provide, it grounds me. I spank Carley plenty, but she doesn't spank me...I don't see her that way or in that role. It's why I still need you, Mommy. I'll come home to you soon, but we kinda opened a studio over here. 

That's right. It's a "Facility" in London...kinda like yours but much darker. Carley and I are the only two Dommes at the moment. There is certainly no one called "Mommy" in our place, people are usually crying for their Mommy though. 

From the moment "Alice" entered our domain, Carley and I knew that we had found our perfect plaything. His wide-eyed innocence and eagerness to please made him the ideal candidate for our brand of transformation. With the skills you taught me, we guided him through the process of feminization, watching with glee as he shed the trappings of his masculinity and embraced his new identity as, Alice, our sissy secretary. 

The chastity device was the first step, a symbol of his complete and utter submission to our will. We've had him locked for 70 days now, Mistress, with five minutes of supervised release, once a week for cleaning and shaving. 

We carefully curated a collection of lingerie for him, hosiery, pencil skirts and blouses designed to accentuate his new role as our sissy secretary. 

Remember when I was your secretary, Mistress? I miss those days too, things seemed simpler back then. Alice doesn't quite look as good as I used to in this role, but it's a start for him, the little breast-forms he wears in his bras are cute.  

We basically behave like it's Mad Men and he's a 1950's secretary. There's something undeniably satisfying about watching him scurry about the office, his hips swaying provocatively in his pencil skirts, his heels clicking against the floor. 

Carley and I take great pleasure in subjecting him too the same kind of sexual harassment and objectification that women have endured for generations. A firm slap on the ass as he bends over to retrieve a file, a lingering grope of his bra. 

He doesn't get to touch us, ever. He's listened to Carley and I fuck before, while he was in a cage, but he's pussyfree, everything free...not even our footwear. If Alice wants our attention it's a spanking, chores, menial tasks, or the strap-on. 

I'll reach down and tangle my fingers into his wig, forcing him to look up at me from under my desk. "Keep going, slut," I'll growl, my voice thick with lust and authority. "Show me how badly you want that raise." And oh, how he'll work for it...even though there is no raise at all, his head bobbing frantically on my dildo before I send him back to his desk, threating to fire him.  

While I may enjoy the psychological games, the mindfuckery of it all, Carley is more of a hands-on type of gal. And what she wants, more often than not, is to fuck our little sissy secretary senseless. 

Maybe it's she, who is Lord Impaler? 

It's become something of a ritual really, about twice a week. Carley will saunter into the office with a wicked gleam in her eye and a bulge in her dress pants. She'll crook her finger at Alice and off they go, disappearing into the copy room or a broom closet. 

She'll hike up his skirt and hike down his lacey panties and claim him. I can almost hear it now amidst these waves behind me, Mistress. The slap of flesh against flesh as Carley has him bent over the copier, fucking his boi pussy while his chastity cage bounces around between his thighs. 

A few strands of pre-cum dribble down into his panties, it must be so humiliating and frustrating, that this is Alice's only source of pleasure. It's a curious sight, really - the way his body betrays him, leaking that telltale fluid despite the fact he's locked up in a nub-cage. I can see the conflict in his eyes, the battle between his base desires and his need to please, to submit.

Part of me thinks he might be more interested in your style, Mistress. The princess dresses and little girl bedrooms, Mary Janes and bows. If we come home, maybe we'll bring Alice too, he'll be sufficiently emasculated by that point, as Carley and I continue to erode his former identity. 

Should I just throw his keys into the sea, and seal his fate forever? I'm thinking about it again. Then call him and break the news? We left him behind to manage The Facility U.K. - is it okay if I call it that, Mistress? I thought it would be dope to still be affiliated to you and your unique brand. I can send you a cut of our profits if you wish?  

Speaking of which, prostitution sessions are all the hype! 

Like safe, simulated, immersive experiences of playing the role of a sex trade worker. The women over here, the British women, go wild for this option! Everything from high-class, hotel lobby hooker, to literally kneeling behind a dumpster in an alley. Everyone wants to book the experience, we have a waiting list. 

It comes at a decent rate for us. Carley and I are essentially hands off, a great return on investment. We should collab on this for your own place, Mistress, just think about some male clients you really trust. 

I better go, we have to get ready to attend the party...in a castle! I guess I should feel like a princess, huh? But I don't. 

I feel like the empowered woman you made me, your perfect creation, your perfect Dominatrix...

Love always, 

Cassie xo    

Continued in: Boardrooms & Bedrooms