Note to reader: You will get more from these characters if you read the stories in order, but it’s not compulsory.
Tess-O’Meter — Green.
-X
I always knew I was a dominant.
And gay.
From the first time I discovered the pleasure that I could bring myself.
Some things are set in life and there can be no doubt.
However, life sure throws curve balls as well, and one thing I never thought that I would be doing was creating, directing, and filming a snuff movie.
Especially one staring my beautiful slave and very much beloved husband.
Still, these unexpected curves are what makes life fun.
Before I continue, let me reassure you and confirm that no submissive was hurt in the creation of this story.
Wait, seriously, what am I saying? Of course, he was hurt. Alex is a pain slut; he likes being hurt. Turns him all the way on.
What I should have said was no submissive was killed in the making of this story.
Let me explain.
-X
Around six years ago Sadie, John and I were asked to act as consultants to a project in the States.
A group of BDSM enthusiasts has decided to go off grid and live full time as masters, mistresses, and slaves.
Sounds like fun on the surface, but unfortunately, they didn’t know what the fuck they were doing, and it didn’t end well.
We got a call from the FBI, asking for our assistance. The issue was, for the authorities, no one was actually doing anything illegal. It was effectively a large scale, full time, role play game, and in theory anyone could leave at any time.
We had been recommended by some professional US based dominants which the FBI had gone to for help.
Walking in and finding people who had been living like dogs in cages for months, was a bit of a shocker.
Plus the cages were locked. However, because the ‘doggies’ were insistent that they wanted to be locked in the cages, it was a very murky situation legally.
Six months of work transformed the commune into a productive small farm, with links to the local community, and proper health care and support for everyone living there, plus supervision.
People were still living pretty much full time in their role, but no one was being harmed, or as had happened before, at risk of harming themselves.
I’m a master with three slaves of my own, and an entire community partly under my care, and I still think it’s weird, but there you go.
Fast forward to five months ago, and Sadie had popped over for a visit.
Surprised to find that one of the more experienced dominants who had been in a supervisory role, and a good friend of hers, had been asked to leave.
Sadie had tracked down Master David to get his side of the story.
It turned out he was terminally ill, and although taking the news very well, he has been indiscreet when talking with one of the other dominants about a long-term fantasy.
Master David is pirate mad (yes, he and John get on very well!), and had a thing about forcing some bound and helpless, handsome young man, to walk the plank.
(Bet Disney didn’t think about that when they made their movies!)
His mistake was in wondering out loud, as a joke, whether he could find someone who was ill, like himself, who would want to live the fantasy from the other point of view.
He had immediately reassured his shocked companion that the idea was horrendous, and just a bad taste joke, and I’m not sure that he should have been judged so harshly for using dodgy graveyard humour to try and deal with a frightening diagnosis and future.
He admitted, over lemon tea and cake (very old school) with Sadie, that having the bad judgement and lack of common sense to say such a thing was the real problem, and he agreed that he was probably not in the best place to continue to act in a supervisory role.
Sadly, his badly judged moment of loose tongue meant that he was now facing his future cut off from the world he had known, with no more than two years left, the last year of which he expected to be very unpleasant indeed.
He had two ‘guests’. Slaves from the commune who had loved him so dearly as a master they wanted to stay and care for him. Sadly though, within less than a year, caring is probably all they would be doing.
Sadie’s response had been typical Sadie. Would he be prepared to travel to the UK, if she could make his fantasy come true, without anyone being harmed?
She had spent the flight home writing a scenario to fulfil his fantasy and then some, using my slaves, thank you very much!
Then John had suggested that if we were going to go to all this trouble, we might as well film it, so that Master David could enjoy watching it over and over.
So instead of an evening of fun, I was now creating a movie production in my spare time. Like I have any spare time.
To be fair, if I had a dying fantasy, I would hope that I had people who loved and respected me enough to make it happen, and I didn’t begrudge Sadie the time or effort, plus we were having fun.
For the record though. When my time comes, I would like to go with something instantaneous and painless, with my cock buried in Alex’s throat, preferably just after having cum. And not for at least sixty years.
If anyone with the power can make a note of that? Thanks very much.
-X
This project had now been months in the making.
I think my favorite moment of the planning was when Will and Chris did their audition.
Of course you can’t sail a pirate ship (even a fake one) without a crew.
Will and Chris had asked to take part.
It was not unusual for our submissive slaves to take a dominant role in a scenario.
I liked the idea of keeping it within my closer group of friends and I knew I could rely on Curtis.
I told Chris and Will that they would need to audition to see if they could pull it off.
The following weekend Will and Chris were missing in action at breakfast, and so was the breakfast, so I had a suspicion that something was about to occur.
When I spotted them stalking across the dining room, eyes on Alex who had his back to them, I suspected their audition was about to start.
“Have Will and Chris spoken to you,” I asked, not acknowledging their approach.
“No,” Alex looked puzzled, “about what?”
They were nearly on us now, we all grabbed our water glasses (the only thing that had made it to our table, no doubt as arranged by the delinquent pair), I grabbed Alex’s as well, leaving the table clear.
“Submit,” I said to him.
“Master?” he frowned at me in question.
“Submit,” I said again.
Alex started to ask more when his arms were wrenched behind him and he was yanked out of his chair and thrown across the table.
Handcuffs clicked into place, and as he started to struggle, he was violently pushed back down, knocking the breath from his body for a second time.
We had all pushed our chairs back and sat grinning as Alex’s pants were yanked down before Chris inserted a syringe nozzle (no needle, obviously), into his ass and injected lube.
This was a technique that we used a lot in consensual-non-consensual role play, as prepping someone prior to their walk down a dark alley, or whatever we had planned, tended to take to spontaneity out of it.