This story was written by My collared slave, len, after we spent a week-end in Avalon Residentz, in Berlin, and describes real events. Pictures are selfies taken with My phone while My prisoner was waiting for Me in the darkness.
I first became aware of Mistress Ezada from Her time as a Mistress in OWK and just knew instinctively that She was the Mistress I wanted to serve. Many years later my dreams came true and I am now honoured to serve Her as one of Her collared slaves.
Although I never visited OWK I was always fascinated by its existence and had a particular interest in the underground prison and how slaves were kept there and the treatment meted out to them. When I first met Mistress Ezada we spoke about Her experience there and She told me all about the prison. I told Her I had always fantasised about being imprisoned by a beautiful Mistress. And rather intriguingly Mistress has recently written a blog post about imprisonment and what it means to Her.
Some time later Mistress told me about Avalon and it’s amazing facilities and arranged for me to attend there with Her as Her prisoner. And so it came to pass, much nervous excitement beforehand slowly turning to anxiety as the time approached. In my head was the old adage – be careful what you wish for.
Well all I would say is that this became one of the most amazing experiences of my life and has had such a profound effect on me. I thought my level of devotion to Mistress Ezada and desire to serve Her were high but after Avalon all my sensitivities and feelings have been raised to a new level.
Upon arrival I was despatched to fetch provisions for Mistress to make Her stay comfortable. As soon as I returned I was instructed to shower (the last such pleasure for a while) before being collared and fitted with my chastity device. Mistress then affixed a leash to my collar and led me on a tour of the facilities in this amazing place. A flight of stairs led to the underground chambers housing the interrogation room, torture chamber and prison cells. Mistress had assured me beforehand that these facilities, in particular the cells, were very similar to OWK. They also include an underground pit for serial offenders and a below ground sitting only pit.
To put things into perspective this is an underground environment with thick concrete walls and no natural light. By its nature it is completely soundproof, which means no noise coming in either, a fact I had not fully appreciated until I was encased in lonely isolated silence for hours and hours.
Mistress brought me first into the interrogation room and secured me into the interrogation chair where She put me through my paces, teasing my/Her cock and balls which were tightly locked away, spitting on me repeatedly, twisting my nipples painfully and slapping my face. She would have no problem interrogating the most hardened of slaves and the very thought of an extended interrogation was frightening.
Eventually She released me.
“Time to go to your cell, slave”
She led me to the cell. It was narrow, no more than 1.5 metres and about 2 metres deep with a low ceiling. There was a “bed” which was a thin piece of foam on a hard board and a bucket in the corner on the hard tiled floor. There was also an infra red camera which covered the entirety of the small cell and which was on at all times so that Mistress could check on me any time She wanted.
There were 2 other cells in the block but I did not know if they were occupied.
“Some simple rules slave. It is absolutely forbidden to communicate with any other prisoner. Any time I, any other Mistress or Guard enters this chamber you will immediately stand in the middle of the cell, head bowed. The bucket is your toilet. Memorise where it is, soon you will not be able to see it”
With that She smiled wickedly as She closed the door and padlocked it. I heard the sound of Her heels fade as She made Her way out. Off went the lights as I heard the heavy metal door at the entry to the chamber being locked shut.
Suddenly reality hit me. The darkness was engulfing and frightening. There was a dankness about the place and it was a little chilly. The silence was eerie, literally no sound. An outside world did not exist.
This was absolute isolation. Total helplessness. Humiliation. Degradation. And for Mistress total control and power. Imprisonment of the body and mind.
There is no sense of time. Minutes could be hours and vice versa. Senses are incredibly sharpened and whilst the ears strain for the slightest sound of hope the mind centres on just one thing – my beautiful Mistress. All that I can see in my mind is the image of my Mistress adorned in Her various amazing leather outfits. I imagine the smell of Her perfume and the aroma of Her leather. I think of Her in a room somewhere watching me on camera, pleasuring Herself at the thought of Her prisoners plight. Sleep is impossible with so many thoughts and images infiltrating and taking over my mind.
I jump as I hear the large metal door opening. Like an obedient puppy I quickly get into position, my heart beating like a wagging tail at the thought of seeing my Owner. Slowly the heels approach. The perfume and leather aroma reaches me first shortly followed by an image of leather clad dominant beauty. After slavishly kissing Her leather boot – it was such a heady relief to see Her – She addressed me.
“I am so aroused at the sight and thought of You down here as My prisoner. But I want more arousal and more orgasms so I am going to whip You” In Her right hand was Her Black Russian whip, one of Her favourites
“I find outdoor whipping so much more arousing!”
“How many whiplashes have You earned”
“Hmmmm” She seemed disappointed by the low number.
“Count each one and thank me”
By the time She got to 55 I was dancing uncontrollably. But relieved it was over and almost looking forward to going back to my cell to get away from the whip. What an odd emotion!
“I am not yet satisfied. 20 more”
I was hardly in position to object and squealed like a banshee as She delivered the strokes with much force.
She was purring with pleasure as She released me and led me back to the cell.
As I lay on the bed in the dark I reflected on the situation. She seems to derive so much pleasure from having me in this helpless situation. She might keep me here for ever. Nobody knows where I am. I could be lost forever. This could be a life sentence. These thoughts may seem irrational but when you are lying there in that bleak lonely environment so much goes through your mind that you cannot tell the difference.
All you do is hope and hope and hope to hear those heels again. Even though they mean more humiliation, degradation and suffering. Yet you want that suffering so much because it means contact with your Goddess. What a conundrum!
She had told me I would be very lonely and hungry. I had listened of course but not appreciated the extent of either. And then the heels again. Into position, head bowed, imaginary tail wagging.
A carton in Her hand suggested feeding time. In it some yogurt and bran flakes which She then topped up with with Her golden nectar in front of my eyes before mixing it slowly with a sadistic grin on Het face and feeding it to me until I had consumed every drop. It was totally humiliating yet I lapped it up like a puppy because I was so grateful for food. This is what I was reduced to in a short time as Her prisoner.
Later I was released and taken to the kitchens to prepare Her evening meal. I presented Her meal and knelt on the floor beside Her as She ate it. I was like a drooling dog beside Her watching Her eat. She eventually told me to fetch a small plate. She put the leftovers on a plate and “seasoned” them with large amounts of spit. She chewed up some bread and spat it out on to the plate. I ate it on the floor like a dog grateful for every morsel.
Having tidied up and given Mistress a foot massage I was taken back to the cell. As I left Her room I looked longingly at the big double bed that She would be sleeping in and maybe pleasuring Herself before doing so. An orgasm – what a thought! It could be a long long time before that ever happens for me but for my Mistress in this situation many many orgasms as I languish in my cold lonely prison cell.
“It will be a long night, slave”
Never a truer word spoken. Bleak darkness, total silence, racing mind and fitful sleep. In the midst of it all more reflection on the sheer helplessness I felt. But a feeling of deepening devotion towards my Mistress.
The next day, which was a long time coming, I had the humiliation of emptying my bucket of its contents as Mistress watched and then being exercised in the yard with Mistress cracking Her whip in encouragement.
I was taken to the playroom and secured on a hoist. Mistress removed my chastity device and teased me relentlessly. My/Her cock wept with frustration as She continually brought me to the edge reminding me over and over of the multiple orgasms She had enjoyed and I would not be having any. I hung there with the now familiar joyful smells of Her perfume and leather as my/Her cock almost exploded. Sheer torture.
Back in the cell and back in chastity having prepared Her breakfast and again being fed leftovers I reflected on the fact that I was simply a puppy, a toy, a plaything for Mistress’s pleasure. But despite my feelings and the dark despair of that cell I somehow felt uplifted at the thought of providing my Mistress that pleasure by my suffering. True submissive feelings. A willingness and desire to please the world’s most beautiful Goddess.
If it can be called such, a sort of routine followed of solitude, pain and suffering and service. On the second day Mistress delivered a most brutal whipping, the fiercest I have ever endured. She lashed me hard with Her Black Russian whip starting with my ass until I was yelping and dancing like Michael Jackson with 2 left feet. And the She came around in front of me and looked me in the eye as She concentrated on my back. She was moaning with more and more pleasure as each painful lash landed, She was clearly in a highly aroused state. Oh how I wanted to take that pain for Her. Seeing Her pleasure and arousal was amazing. She then changed to Her whip with the metal tipped tails and flayed my ass mercilessly until it bled. I hung limply from the bar, my whole body ablaze. She released me and drew me to Her. She looked me in the eye “good boy,I am pleased with you”
Those words were music to my ears as I dropped to my knees and lavished such sincere kisses on Her boots.
That night proved to be the last of my imprisonment. I have thought of little else since then. A truly amazing and spectacular experience, an emotional roller coaster ranging from loneliness, hunger and despair to the sheer indescribable joy of hearing Her high heels approaching!
It is an experience I will never forget and it has undoubtedly forged a stronger bond between Us/us and enhanced my desire to please Her, to suffer for Her pleasure and to serve Her forever. The amazing Mistress Ezada.