Mistress Domination: Doomed to Dumbnation

By Shawna Hunter

Be careful what you wish for. Once, Kate believed herself to be the only super-powered pervert on the block. Then her friend discovered abilities of her own and things were great. Two kinky superheroines running the streets, what could be better? Except that there is a third. A twisted mind has emerged with powers of his own. A mind that warps w

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kingston Publishing Company
• Release date: Oct 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781645334767

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Copyright

Mistress Domination: Doomed to Dumbnation is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

MISTRESS DOMINTATION DOOMED TO DUMBNATION: A NOVEL

Copyright © 2022 by Shawna Hunter

All rights reserved.

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Published by Kingston Publishing Company

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Table of Contents

Copyright

Table of Contents

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Extras

About the Author

Also by the Author

About the Publisher

1

Kate

Ha Penis

Fourth wall breaks are cliché, fourth wall breaks are cliché, fourth wall breaks are… okay, just one. Welcome back! If you’re just joining us, I’m Kate, better known as Mistress Domination. I’m a superhero with the ability to manifest sex toys out of thin air. Crazy huh? Well, you should meet my girlfriend, Penelope. That naughty little firecracker can make shit disappear. Not just my manifestations either, she can make anything vanish from existence. Kind of like an editor to this crazy author. Fun, right? Well, fun for most of us. Bad guys best be on their best behavior. If she really doesn’t like you? Well, you’d better hope that doesn’t happen.

Penelope goes by Princess Prude, a nickname I gave her back when she was a prim little protester out to stop me. Not the name she’d have chosen, but what can I say? I like giving nicknames… and teasing my pet. Especially since our early friendship was platonic. So much time we could have spent naked, tormenting her body, such a waste. Yes, she was my friend and roommate. Mostly because she didn’t know that I was the superhero she’d been obsessed with stopping, but the friendship was genuine. We… had some stuff to work out when she discovered the truth but that’s another story and a shameless plug. Now things are good… I’d dare even say great. We’ve got no more secrets and she’s settling into being my sidekick and lover.

In fact, let’s cut to her, standing there in her skin-tight white leotard. Her butt pressed out through the thong bottoms, which offer just a hint of the jeweled plug between those cheeks. The circle on her chest exposing her cleavage. The golden whore collar holding her latex gimp mask to her face. She looks so confident, so sure of herself, as five very unfriendly men crowd in.

You looking for a party, darlin’? the first one asks her.

Hey babe? Her hand rests on her hip, so cocky. God it’s hot. Penelope is so prim and proper, such a prudish little Christian girl, but get her in her Princess Prude suit and, well… let’s just say that I’ve spent a lot of time rubbing off on her.

Yes? I ask, leaning against the wall and admiring her.

Do you have a hook for this crook? Something like the one you had me dangling from the other night? She doesn’t turn away from the threat. She keeps her eyes on them, in case they lunge.

Babe, I let the eye roll seep into my tone, I can’t do that through their pants.

What pants? She giggles and my heart skips a beat. There’s no pants here.

What the fuck? The closest man’s hands move involuntarily to cover himself, the knife he holds nearly circumcising him.

Dude, where’d your pants go? another asks.

Where’d your pants go? the third demands.

What the fuck? Such creative young men. Whatever happened to street smarts?

The grand vocabulary turns to screams as the anal hooks work themselves in—the ropes descending from the buildings around us, pulling them up into the air. Of course, they’re held by more than just the hooks. These guys are muggers, hooligans—getting ripped in half asshole first is a little extreme for their crimes. Still, the shocked look in their eyes at being penetrated, rendered helpless by impossible ropes that shouldn’t be there, hung in the air in defiance of the natural laws… it all tells me that this lesson will stay with them. When Mistress Domination punishes you, you don’t soon forget it.

Penelope adds the final touch, literally. Reaching up to the erect cock of a man who had had very unsavory designs on her sweet flesh. Penelope has never touched a cock. Not a real one at least. I have helped her experiment with very reasonable facsimiles, however, and she’s learned a few tricks. Enough that, when she touches the real flesh of a man who disgusts her, she knows just what to do to torment him. Once, she’d have written blog articles bemoaning such a perverse act, she probably still will, but first… the experiment. She strokes the cock, as the man bobs on the hook and curses her. He can’t touch her now, not bound in those ropes. All he can do is feel her hand making a toy of his anatomy, exactly as he’d meant to do to her. Feel it, until she hops back in disgust.

Your cum is disgusting, she chides him, spewing goo on the street like that. I hope the cops drop you right in your own puddle. When they find you in the morning, that is.

You can’t do this to me, you bitch, the presumed leader complains.

Yes, we can, Penelope shrugs, obviously.

I’ll get you you… Whatever mean thing he was about to say is silenced by the sudden appearance of a ball gag. No one talks to my girlfriend like that, except me.

Princess, I call sweetly, get over here. I beckon with a single finger, a little theatrical emphasis to the order.

Yes, Mistress, she chirps, skipping to me with childish glee.

Did you just give that thug a hand job? I demand.

I was just curious, she shrugs.

Did you just give a man a hand job? I repeat.

Yes, Mistress, she looks down, I suppose I did.

Cheating on me right before my very eyes, I scold her, am I a cuckquean now? She looks up, shocked at my words.

No, Mistress, I didn’t mean it like that, she puts her hands together, pleading, please, don’t look at it that way.

Too late, the paddle manifests in my hand, and the throne behind me, you know what comes next.

With those gross men watching? She tosses a thumb over her shoulder, indicating the bound muggers.

Including the one you just jerked off, yes. The paddle whacks against my palm. It’s not an act either. I really am just itching to put it to use. They can watch, they’ll probably cum too, watching me spank your tight little ass.

They don’t deserve a reward like that, she argues.

No, they don’t, none of them can meet my eye when I glance over her shoulder, but you deserve the extra humiliation. Don’t you, Princess?

Yes, she sighs, "I suppose I do.

Penelope’s bottoms vanish, by my will, exposing her hairless pussy and pink jeweled butt to the men as I pull her over my knee. Her top disappears as she falls forward so her breasts can bounce and swing. Her costume, like my own, is a manifestation. As she once bemoaned, we’re both sort of running around naked. The clothes feel real, however. My black corset squeezes my breasts up, the silver belt wraps my waist, the black booty shorts show off my ass. Yes, these things exist only by my will, but they still behave like real materials. As do my toys.

The weighted clamps, appearing in the confusion of being thrown over my knee, tug at Penelope’s bare breasts just as real ones would. Only her collar and mask remain when I’m through preparing her for my paddle. The rest is her pale pink flesh, on display for these perverted criminals, and the toys I use to torment and arouse it. She watches the men, as I bring the paddle down on her. She watches them wiggle in the ropes, try in vain to push out the hooks. She watches their cocks bob and strain, working closer to orgasm by the sight alone. Their eyes are filled with lust, as her body rocks with the spanking. The actual sight no longer clear to her, not with her own vision blurring from the sensation, but clear enough in her mind, I’ve no doubt.

Your ass will be throbbing and red for the rest of the patrol, I tell her.

As I deserve, Mistress, she whimpers.

You deserve so much worse, I tell her. But these bastards don’t deserve the show. The paddle vanishes once P’s booty is the right color, and my hand massages her tenderized bottom. She isn’t the only one throbbing. Watching her tempt that gang, toy with that bound man, and submit to me without hesitation… it all has my body on fire. I want her tongue, her fingers. I want to wrap my legs around her head and put all the skills I’ve been teaching her to use, but not here. Not where we still need our masks on. Not where we have an audience.

Mistress, she asks me, must I remain plugged after my spanking?

Yes, I tell her. Remember, I told you you’d have to wear the plug for the entire patrol.

But it feels so heavy, she complains.

Whining will only make me increase its size, I warn.

Can I at least have a vibe in my panties, to offset the pressure? The request drops my jaw. Penelope, asking to be masturbated in public? Be still my beating…well, I mean, that part is connected to my heart.

Sure, I say as I let her stand. She’s still, shyly failing to cover herself for a moment, looking exposed and delicious until I reluctantly return her costume.

Thank you, Miss… Her eyes widen, as the powerful vibe turns on.

Thank you, what? I ask, tilting my head for a better view as her pupils dilate.

Thank…thank you...funk… Still the apprehension around swearing, I can’t fight my grin.

Fuck, I correct her, say fuck Princess…say fuck and I’ll let you cum. Keep being a prude, and I’ll edge you all night.

Edge me, for a moment it sounds like a question, but Penelope knows what that is now. I’ve been rather cruel, edge me, Mistress. I deserve it.

You’re going to get someone killed, I chide her as the vibe stops, getting me to cut patrol short like this.

How am I…? she begins.

Well, unless you want to go down on me in some filthy back alley, I tease her.

I’ll do anything for you, Mistress, she offers.

Fuck, I grab her wrist and start running, where’s a damn alley when you need one?

Penelope can’t quite run as fast as I’d like. Not with a vibe in her panties and a plug up her ass. Of course, I wasn’t really planning on her having to run tonight. She’s here to be the bait for low-lifes. Tempting them in her Power…ful (DC please don’t sue me costume) so they don’t notice my Wonder…ful ass manifesting their fate. That role doesn’t really work when you can get away. Still, she does a decent job of keeping up with me until I find a sufficiently dark and dank spot. Her mask changes from a hood to an eye covering, like mine, so I can put my tongue down her throat. My arms wrap around her, crushing her to me. My black corset to her white latex. My booty shorts to her tight thong. I’m taller than Penelope, but she lifts up on her tippy-toes so I can feel the vibe purring in her panties. Almost strong enough to share, but that would get her off too. We can’t have that; she has to stop at the edge.

Get on your knees, I demand.

Give me leggings, it’s dirty, her husky voice can’t be resisted.

A pillow, I tell her. It’s already under you, now kneel. I need that hot fucking tongue of yours.

Now you may be wondering why I’d risk this. Aren’t we a little exposed? Couldn’t someone catch us unaware? Well, don’t worry. I never let both eyes roll back, and the people most likely to be looking for us are either bound, or on the other side of the city. Oh, but Kate, how can you possibly know that? Well, it isn’t an accident, and it isn’t a guess. In fact, it’s all possible because of who this lovely blonde girl between my thighs is… in her daylight hours.

Penelope remains the figure head of a small, yet determined group of Christian fundamentalists dedicated to my downfall. Thanks to that position, we are kept in the loop on both protester search parties and police searches. Andre, Penelope’s former second in command, has been quite efficient in using his usurped powers to form tighter ties with the police. Not sure how he’s done it, but lately there’s been a lot of co-ordination between the two groups. The police, in general, don’t mind what I do. Innocents don’t get hurt and it keeps petty crime down. If protesters spot us, however, police show up almost as fast. Ready to arrest the vigilantes, rather than risk a publicity incident. It’s not ideal, but it does help us plan around them. In order to respond so quickly, police patrols stay near protester hunting parties. Therefore, knowing where one group is, tells us where the others will likely be. So, we go the other way… just like most of the criminals we hunt.

Once upon a time, P was the leader. If she still had that influence, she could guide the group away from this reckless course. The hunting parties that she and Andre originally planned would have been little more than a social club, staying far away from anything truly dangerous. Unfortunately, Andre’s been pushing her out since her views on Mistress Domination have softened recently. Penelope’s blog, however, is still the mouthpiece of the group. So, they keep her in the loop about where they’ll be. Give her a heads up, so she can be ready to fill in a half-written story about catching me, if they ever succeed. It’s cute, really. Watching her sit there, bemoaning our exploits and railing against the various moral perversions of our city. Often while in some skimpy outfit, or kinky predicament of her own. Oh, how I love answering her emails, scanning her leads, and generally going through her communications with my haters… while she’s beneath the desk, doing just what she’s doing now. I’ve trained her well.

Pay attention, she glares up at me over my pubic mound.

Less talk, more cunnilingus, I ball my fist in her hair.

You’d best not be thinking about other women, I feel her breath huff against my clit.

You’d best stop procrastinating, she feels my crop tap her already sore backside.

My hand releases her beautiful blonde hair, causing those big blue eyes to look back up at me. Her talented tongue is doing its job, pausing only briefly, when I turn the vibe on and off. She’s my back-alley whore. My own personal prostitute. I’m going to cum with her tongue on my clit and leave her wanting and desperate. Of course, later tonight I’ll make it up to her. Undressing her slowly, so I can admire her. Pulling her clothes off in that way that causes the brush of fabric to make her tingle. She still trembles, still blushes, when she sees the love in my eyes. It took her years to admit to her desire for women, for me. So, I can wait a little longer for those three little words. Oh, the yummy image of her finally breaking and saying them. It gets me so close.

Oh my gosh Sandy, that’s so naughty, the giggling, bubbly tones pull me up short.

So, like, pearls but against your pussy? Another one, same ditzy tone.

Yeah, it makes me so wet. Better than those too-big regular G-strings. Their high heels clack on the pavement, and I’m forced to manifest a sex doll box to hide Penelope and I. Usually that’d be asinine. Most people would stop