Euphoria could feel how her heart and began to pump in tune with the bass line reverberating through The Tenth Circle while the wafting scent of drugs, smoke, and sex snaked through her nostrils. The dull hued light of the club contrasted with the sub-mistresses luminescent and cybernetic strands that left behind silvery streaks with each step of her heeled boots that forced her to walk en pointe. With the cat-like tail swaying behind her and feline ears poking through her hair to provide additional balance, it was an effortless performance. Still, Euphoria enjoyed the hungry eyes of the club-goers flicking between her mistress’ sculpting, the cuffs that could easily leave her restrained if connected to the chains or straps of her leather outfit or lace bodice, or the losing themselves in the tresses of her flogger attached to her hip.
Running her elongated tongue over a pair of stud piercings set in her lower lip as she returned a few of them, the sub-mistress also noticed her admirers’ attention fading when they reached her stark red choker or her briefcase. The former was thinner than those marking the women and shemales almost completely enclosed in bodysuits and carrying trays and drinks between the full tables. They were anonymous in the perforated hoods, though she could recognize every one of her sister slaves by the differences in their height, poise, and movement. But ignoring them and the clientele dancing and milling inside the main lobby, Euphoria set her sights on the bar.
The bartender, Nirvana, was loosely but no less alluringly dressed than Euphoria, showing of her tattoos and numerous piercings of which the other sub-mistress only displayed those on her brows, nose, and lips. The woman’s hair did not glow, but the horns curving out from the purple-skinned slave’s forehead that glistened with beads of sweat certainly did. More of their owner’s body modifications.
“Lady Nirvana. My Mistress will is my will. Your voice is her voice.” Euphoria lifted the edge of her skirt in a practiced curtsy as her other hand touched the collar once she had approached close enough. She held the position. Although they were of the same rank, the sub-mistress knew she was expected to show her deference to the bartender who ran this club with their Mistress’ blessing. The response to her call was a repetition of the same phrase and gesture which set them as equals. Dozens of other phrases and rituals could show recrimination, favor, submission, and dominance as appropriate to the people or group you were interacting with. But none of those applied at the moment, and Euphoria’s demeanor relaxed. “Seems we’re both busy today, Nina, so I’ll cut to the chase. Is our Domina inside her chambers?”
The other sub-mistress did not acknowledge the secured briefcase Euphoria carried and instead performed her duties as normal outside of slight gesture at the elevator that would be her next stop. “See you, Euphy.” Inside, the red velvet clad interior she noted the nine buttons and the labels. The tenth and lowest level was reached with a combination of buttons that she pressed. And once the door hissed open, she walked down the black latex-clad corridor leading to heart where her Mistress awaited in her opulent dungeon-come-bedroom.
Euphoria fell on her knees, head and eyes submissively cast downward as she raised her arms and presented the locked briefcase the very heartbeat she entered. The sub-mistress had only caught a short glimpse of the two toys fucking her Owner. Instead of nipples, but had erect shafts like the one hanging between every woman’s crotch here. One was putting her thick cock into her ass, while the other lay claim to her mouth in a noisy and sloppy threesome. But even skewered between the two large women, her Mistress was in command. Nothing, not even a slightest tremble from the weight of the metal case or having her muscle tensed for what felt like several minutes, was allowed to disturb this woman’s pleasure. Until then, it was her duty to wait.
Countless hypno-sessions at the academy had instilled perfect obedience, but even without those methods the love was genuine. Her shemale Domme had given this lowly slave a name, a purpose, what else could be more important? “You are smiling. Slave Euphoria.” Euphoria didn’t say or do anything, had she been expected to speak her Mistress would’ve said so, but the blush that crept into her cheek was too ingrained and natural a reaction to hide. The sound of shifting covers and clicking of heels consumed the sub-mistress every sensation and thought. The Dominant did not attend to submissive courier immediately, slipping into the shower to clean herself up first, then instructing the two toys to wait at the bedside. They were blindfolded and similarly deafened as way to secure her secrets, and her Domina instead use touch to convey her commands
Eventually, it was Euphoria’s turn and the sub-mistress felt her wrist where the suitcase had been cuffed ache and throb. She stayed still, only letting her hands rest on her folded knees. “Did your education include pre-Nightfall history. Lady Euphoria” Years and years ago, Earth had lost its Sun and the previous civilizations had fallen, giving rise to the Mistress of Night and Submission, Lilith, and her faithful Succubi nuns to lead the new world to its proper path. But the details of what had been before were not important. Still hurt to disappoint her Domina and tell her she did not know. “An old god called Thor did battle with a serpent coiled around its circumference during the birth of this new era. He slew the beast, but not before its deadly venom was injected into his body.”
Her Mistress paused in her lecture as she clicked open the briefcase. Euphoria had long since learned the sounds of an ampule being inserted into an injector and confirmed it when asked to join her Mistress’ side. The Dominant was in her mid-forties. Not old when life-extension technology was so available to even favored submissives at their Owner’s behest. Yet unlike many other Dominants her Domina did look her age. While she sculpted her slaves’ flesh to her liking, she had never done the same to hers. Even shying away from minor modifications. “The venom was called Eitr. But it is also the source of life, mutation, and evolution. And this,” she flicked a pair fingers onto the syringe and its liquid contents, “are a few drops. The witch, Allexia, was quite convincing in confirming its authenticity. Although I am still curious about seeing its effects. And since it pleases me, I’m commanding you to choose which neck this needle goes into. Mine, yours, someone elses?”