One Night Extravaganza

[Mistress Dalisay]

 

In your hand is a flier to the next buzz in town. A traveling show for The She Devil. In the front, hundreds of people are hoping to get a chance to see this one-night extravaganza. Peeping around, you notice a door slightly ajar. “My ticket into the show...”, smiling cheekily.

__________________________

An empty hallway stretches out, dim and still. The show won’t begin for an hour, plenty of time to explore, but dangerous enough to make your pulse quicken.

A door at the end beckons. You step inside.

The dressing room feels like trespassing into a shrine. Mannequins wear sparkling lingerie and feathered boas that drip off their shoulders like smoke. Jewels catch the light, throwing shards of color across the walls. Amid the decadence sits a small table, almost mundane—except for what rests upon it: a collection of crops, canes, and whips.

“Do you like them?”

The voice freezes you.

You whirl, and there she is, She Devil. Every inch of her radiates command, the air charged with her presence. Her smile is molten; her stride deliberate. With each step closer, your knees weaken until you collapse before her without realizing it.

I’ve been wanting to try a new act,” she purrs, eyes glittering with intent. “And you, darling, seem like the perfect specimen. What do you say? Interested?”

Your mouth goes dry. She hovers above, a predator circling her prey.

“You don’t look so hot, baby.” Her tone softens, but the intensity in her eye does not break. “Take a seat. I’ll fetch you something to drink.”

She slips from the room, leaving you trembling in humiliation. Why hadn’t she called security? Why hadn’t she screamed for help?

When she returns, it’s with a single glass of water. “Here, sugar. Drink up.”

You obey. The cool liquid slides down your throat, and in seconds the glass is empty. But her expression—her smile, now sharp as a blade—stabs you with dread.

“Any second now…” she whispers.

The world tilts. Then blackness.

————————————————

“Wake up, baby. It’s showtime!”

You struggle, but the weight of your predicament becomes clear: naked, gagged, trapped in a pillory at center stage. The roar of the audience drums in your ears.

“Escape is futile.” Her voice cracks like a whip—followed by one, slicing across your flesh in a blaze of pain.

The crowd gasps. She Devil turns to them, triumphant.

“This culprit thought it wise to sneak into my dressing room. But I’ve found the perfect punishment.” She scans the crowd, smirking.

“Let me burn this into your memory forever.”

Her gaze locks on you, eyes alight with cruel delight.

“Good luck.”, a sharp crack rings out. She leans in close. “I don’t think they’ve heard you yet, sugar. Speak up.” Another lash, this one forcing a muffled cry from behind your gag. The crowd howls with delight.

She Devil steps close once more, gripping your chin so you have no choice but to meet her eyes. The theater falls into silence, every soul hanging on her next words.

“You should know better next time, Pet.” she purrs, voice low and dangerous, eyes scanning yours.

“Punishments must be served.”