Goaded in Ballets (A fantasy)

This morning, before leaving for work, I had my lovely pet Malin lock me up as you see me here. The purpose of which was to train the ballet boots I am wearing. If you don't recognize them, they are Mesmerize Dungeons ballet boots and they require training time before you can walk in them properly. Training means at lower levels, you can't walk as fast, you can't jump as high, you can't take stairs, and you fall a lot.

While wandering in circles around our statue centerpiece outside the main gates of Sanctuary Castle, I came up with a little fantasy. I imagined a group of girls, bound as I am, herded forward, forced to march down a long street, with a handful of Masters and Mistresses walking up and down their ranks, using whips, floggers, and even cattle prods on their exposed, naked butts to keep them marching forward.

I imagined the look of fear on the girls faces each time one of the Dom/mes approached from behind. Scurrying a little to try and escape the bite of the lash or the prongs of a prod. Only to experience the the crack of a whip or the electric jolt.

A herd of 20 or 30 such bound, corseted, gagged, and ballet booted women. Nipples pinched cruelly by clover nipple clamps. Corsets reducing their lung capacity as they are forced to exert themselves. Exposed, heated sex glistening in the sunlight, betraying their arousal despite their desperate whines and pleading eyes. Each woman soaring to heights of masochistic extacy as 5 or 6 cruel, merciless Masters and Mistresses force them to trudge on.

Thighs burning, calves aching, feet on fire with pain in their tight arch, but none are allowed to slow their pace. Marching for hours, crying out from the lash. A screech coming from further back as the girl last in line gets a taste of the cattle prod. The devilish woman in black smiling with sadistic delight as the rear girl hurries forward despite her exhaustion.

Suddenly one girl freezes in place, her knees coming together, her head back as she pants loudly. She's having an orgasm. But these slaves don't stop for orgasms. A Master quickly lashes her ass, forcing her to walk even as the convulsions of her climax are still upon her.

The women are forced to walk, through pain, through pleasure, nostrils flaring for every breath.

And in their midst is me. Body glistening with a slight sheen of sweat. My butt arleady sporting several lash marks. My legs tremble as my pace slows. I look over my shoulder to see one of the Mistresses. The one sporting the cattle prod. In fact, it's my Mistress. Mistress Bettina. She moves up behind me, smiling cruelly, "Get moving, Cunt. You should be at the front of the line."

She brandishes her prod, my eyes go wide. She dips it low and presses the tongs to my ass. Then pushes the button. I scream! But its muffled by the ball and panel gag. Barely audible even to my Mistress. Fresh tears stream down my eyes and I hurry forward, trying to get tot he front of the group. Screaming again as I suffer another bite of electricity...

That's when my pussy spasms. And I feel the orgasm coming on...

-Tiffy