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So what can she do but train someone for it? \n\nA commission for Mistress Alice. This was supposed to come out earlier in the month, but unfortunately, I underestimated how busy life would get from the 20th onward. It's a prequel to Alice's other commission which you can find [url=https://inkbunny.net/s/3537628]here[/url]\n\n\nYou can find more stories like this over on my [url=https://www.patreon.com/c/Ralanrwrites]Patreon[/url] and/or [url=https://subscribestar.adult/ralanr]Subscribestar[/url]. Members can get discounts on commissions. \n\nEnjoy!", "description_bbcode_parsed": "For a domme with a submissive streak, it's hard to find anyone willing to indulge in it. So what can she do but train someone for it?

A commission for Mistress Alice. This was supposed to come out earlier in the month, but unfortunately, I underestimated how busy life would get from the 20th onward. It's a prequel to Alice's other commission which you can find here


You can find more stories like this over on my Patreon and/or Subscribestar. Members can get discounts on commissions.

Enjoy!", "writing": " In the dim light of her private office Alice struggled on how to present herself. The goat had decided on some more domme attire with a leather corset, thigh-high boots, and elbow-length gloves. The corset in particular was chosen for how it pushed her breasts out, but now that she was wearing it she wondered if it was too much for a first time. Not a ‘first’ first time though, but a first for being a mentor. \n \n When she started her club, Alice expected to be a mentor. She became more of a director instead, delegating tasks to people under her to help the community flourish. She made an effort to compensate when she could, but she had few people she’d call fulltime employees over volunteers. Not to mention most of her employees were closer to retirees who needed something to do. She grinned at that. It never ceased to amuse her how the young were so shocked by seeing much older people enjoying the whips and chains. But kink was never about age. Aside from the obvious. \n \n But as a mentor? She’d not been so lucky. Despite her best efforts to be friendly and welcoming to attendees they put up a wall around her. She was the club owner, she was in charge, she was too important to be mentoring anyone. A session or two? Well that’s what anyone wants. Her personal pet? She didn’t really do that, preferring to play around with people. Maybe that was why people didn’t approach her for mentorship. It was certainly why so few people she knew were willing to top her when the desire rose. If anything, it made Alice more hopeful to mentor someone. Who better to dominate her than one she trained? \n \n That was how Mirrix came into the picture. Goblins were a strangely unusual sight in the bdsm scene. Mirrix later explained that goblins ‘didn’t do kink’ or at least not in the way everyone else did. Goblin intimacy was a free-for-all with the direct goal of pleasure. The idea of pain, or dancing on the line of pleasure, or even following orders in a place where orders should not exist to them, was downright heretical to goblin beliefs. It was why she was so nervous on her first day in the club, having taken the back seat in the audience during the monthly Friday-night lecture on etiquette and safety. The seat that just so happened to be next to Alice. \n \n Mirrix didn’t know who Alice was at the time they talked and had made some…colorful comments about the lifestyle. Alice ignored them because they came from anxiety, as Mirrix tended to break her nerves with a joke. The worse the joke, the better the break, as she’d say anyway. \n \n The goblin’s ignorance made her perfect to pry. When Alice learned Mirrix wanted to learn how to do BDSM properly, especially as a top, Alice volunteered herself to teach her. That resulted in several online lessons first, with tonight being their first personal play. So Alice had to wonder if she should be sitting on her desk waiting like a honeypot, or behind her desk like a boss impatient for their employee, or drop the dominant poses entirely and just allow Mirrix in without issue. \n \n She chose an amalgamation of all three when she heard a knock on the door. \n \n “You may enter,” Alice said, trying not to smile too much with pride that Mirrix waited for an answer. Goblins, as Mirrix explained, were impatient by nature. It took a great amount of restraint to even wait for others. It was why licenses with goblins were often stricter, which was why if you ever hired a goblin professional you know they took their job seriously, so much that it might as well be on another level. Of course, the more restrained a goblin was during work hours, the more explosive they could be outside of it. More than once she’d read controversial news of a proud goblin lawyer or doctor going on a serious bender after hours. It made being a clan leader, such as Mirrix, all the more challenging. \n \n Mirrix walked in with a slump like she wore the weight of a leader along her sleeves. She straightened when she noticed Alice sitting on the desk, tilting her head with curiosity on whether or not it was supposed to be sexy for the goblin or professional. Sometimes combining both provides neither. \n \n “Nice outfit,” Mirrix said. They hadn’t started their lesson session yet so she didn’t speak with honorifics. Alice preferred that. Far too many people used the term ‘Mistress’ or, Heavens forbid, ‘Goddess’ unprompted. She would allow no one, save herself, to prop her onto a pedestal. \n \n Alice grinned as she eyed Mirrix. Her black but shorn hair fit nicely with the leather jacket and tight black jeans. The bulge around in her crotch area looked particularly big, helped by the tight studded belt. “Not bad yourself, Mirrix. How has my task been treating you?”\n \n Mirrix closed the door behind her, locking it without being told. They both preferred privacy and Alice already had one incident of someone walking in without permission while a lesson was happening. “It’s…been difficult,” the goblin said, scratching her crotch. “I’m not sure how this is supposed to make me a better dom. Feels more like being a sub.”\n \n “And why do you suppose that is?” Alice asked, recrossing her legs, “Surely I’ve mentioned it before.”\n \n The goblin rolled her eyes as she exhaled a weary sigh. “A dom should know how their sub is feeling. Experience as a sub is crucial for that,” she spoke with all the enthusiasm of a sarcastic teenager. “I’m not saying I don’t like it, which of course is between us.”\n \n Alice nodded. “Naturally.” Goblin mating rituals were all about dominance. Normally it didn’t matter too much if a goblin was more submissive leaning. But as a clan leader, Mirrix had to keep herself dominant, else another goblin could try to lead the clan and she doubted anyone who could would lead them on a decent path. \n \n “But it ain’t exactly what I’ve been expecting.”\n \n “If we only taught you what you expected then we wouldn’t be teaching you much, would we?” Alice said. “If this was all obvious observation then we wouldn’t need mentors at all. Wouldn’t you agree?” \n \n Mirrix shrugged. “I suppose so.” \n \n With the formalities of casual conversation done, Alice raised her hoof as a sign they were about to start. Mirrix, as had been trained into her, bowed with grace after closing the distance. Her lips braced the hoof with reverence and desire. Alice smiled. The goblin may tell her that she didn’t enjoy subbing as much as doming, but her effort didn’t hide some love of the role. \n \n “Strip and present.” Alice’s command carried weight despite her soft tone. Mirrix stepped back, slowly stripping out of her leathers until nothing but her green skin remained. Her short stature only served to make her thick curves seem bigger, as if she packed more fat than muscle underneath it all. The standout however was the metal tube chastity cage hanging between her legs, its tight ring making her balls seem full of seed just waiting to burst. \n \n Alice waited until Mirrix placed both hands behind her head and spread her legs shoulder-length apart, leaving her entirely exposed as befitting her current potion. “Have you been sleeping well in the cage?” She asked.\n \n “It’s been difficult,” Mirrix said, her tone carrying a casual cadence despite her stance. “Some nights I wake up with it feeling tight. Been hard to not just stick a finger in my cunt since that’s free.”\n \n “But you haven’t?” Alice asked. \n \n Mirrix nodded, her green face growing a shade of pink. “Well, no. You said I wasn’t supposed to.”\n \n “Good girl,” Alice cooed. Sliding off her desk the goat perused her wall of toys for something. She looked back to see if Mirrix was watching and smiled when the goblin refused to turn her head. “There’s going to be a party tonight. I want you to attend as my dominant in training. You understand what that means, don’t you?”\n \n “I assume it means a collar and leash will be involved, Mistress.” \n \n “You assume correctly.” Alice chose a thin cane made of bamboo, “Do you have any issues with that?”\n \n “I might be recognized if other goblins show up,” Mirrix said. The ‘might’ was doing heavy lifting, as goblin clan leaders in the same city were basically celebrities. Alice had a no phone rule inside her club, but gossip would spread. \n \n “Don’t worry. Mistress will ensure no one will.” She swung the cane, more of a switch really, through the air. “Do you know why I want you out there tonight?”\n \n “No, Mistress.”\n \n “No guess?” \n \n Mirrix thought for a moment, “Does it have something to do with the rod you’re holding?” \n Alice’s gaze beamed the back of the goblin’s head. “It does. In confidence you’ve told me your fear of losing control when hitting someone in play. Tonight we tackle that fear.” \n \n Mirrix stiffened as the tip of the rod trailed figure-eights along her back. “Tonight I will teach you the sting of the switch. And you will take what you have learned to my patrons below. You will show restraint and exercise caution while indulging in a kink you desire. Is that understood?”\n \n Her audible gulp was like a pin drop, “Yes, Mistress.”\n \n While they had their differences, the cane, switch, and rod all served the same function in impact play. They were stingy tools meant to inflict quick and precise strikes. If not careful, or deliberate, they could break the skin. It was no wonder they were still used as punishment tools by governments around the world. \n \n But for a dominant, blood was a sign of failure. There were people into that, sure, but in Alice’s case she wanted to teach restraint in strikes. Her first experience with Mirrix’s attitude toward corporal punishment revealed the goblin loved the hit hard. She needed to know the pain that could be inflicted by light strikes in the right areas to better understand what she would do to others. \n \n So the first strikes came with warnings. Alice directed Mirrix to hold out a limb she would strike or spread herself apart to make room for the swing. Alice started with safer zones; forearms, outer thighs, etc, having her describe the feeling of impact and aftermath before moving onto the next. Soon red lines crossed Mirrix’s green skin. Her back, her butt, her breasts, even her palms and the soles of her feet were not free from strikes. \n \n For an hour this went on. Eventually Alice stopped calling out her targets, letting Mirrix embrace the incoming pain with surprise. She had to use a blindfold to keep the goblin from looking, which seemed to enhance her reactions from a pained grunt to a delightful squeal. \n \n By the end of their session Alice’s tired breaths mixed with Mirrix’s pained breathing. The goblin did not drop her position, only changing stance upon request for a better strike. This left her covered in red marks save for the most dangerous places like her face. Taking some balm and latex gloves, Alice set to work soothing the goblin’s marks. Starting with a sensual, if firm, massage of her protege’s breasts. \n \n Her next question came as a sultry whisper down the goblin’s pointed ear. “Can you tell how hard my strikes were?” Mirrix, whose hands were clenched behind her head so as to not grab Alice’s as the goat massaged her tits, grit her teeth and nodded. Alice rewarded, or punished depending on the viewpoint, her student by pinching and twisting her nipples. “Tell me.”\n \n “T-They were restrained, Mistress,” Mirrix said, biting her lower lip. \n \n “And can I trust you to be restrained?” She asked, blowing down the goblin’s neck. “My patrons pay a good fee for club membership. They do not want to leave broken beyond their expectations.\n \n There came a pause broken by harsh breaths. “Can…can you supervise me, Mistress?” Mirrix asked. \n \n Alice chuckled softly. Her hand trailed down the goblin’s stomach, dragging her mails to feel like the small legs of insects dipper deeper. “Mirrix, my dear, I don’t plan to let you out of my sight. You’ll be leashed, remember?” She punctuated this with a firm grip on Mirrix’s caged cock and balls. Precum spooled into her hands like water from a leaker faucet. She made Mirrix lick it off. \n \n Knowing all the right people in the scene made custom orders easier. Alice laid out Mirrix’s outfit for the evening, catching a raised brow in mild challenge when she saw the latex veil and matching hood. By now they’d dropped their session so Mirrix dropped her tone to one more casual. “Really?”\n \n “You didn’t want to be noticed, right?” Alice grinned, holding the hood between her hands. “Besides, there are plenty of dommes who do the full latex attire. There is power in anonymity.”\n \n With lube and perseverance, Mirrix walked out of Alice’s office unrecognizable. Her short stature glistened with black latex, her wide hips and thick legs hidden by the long latex skirt. The tight material squeezed her breasts firmly to make them stand out, and not a single seam could be seen between her sleeves and gloves as though the latex were a second skin. The hood closed tight around her head with holes exposing her eyes and sharp teeth, the latter of which Alice kept hidden with a panel gag. Best to keep her trainee from speaking if she wanted to stay hidden. The headdress helped hide her headshape, and as for her eyes, Alice added a small visor.\n \n “I can’t see more than five feet out with this thing on in the dark.” Mirrix said when trying it. \n \n “Good thing my least doesn’t go that far.”\n \n The party was in full swing when Alice arrived with her little nun in tow. The sight of her holding another on a leash always drew attention, and those brave enough to approach inundated her with questions. The foolish and the new were the ones she turned away, not eager to play with those only interested in getting themselves in Mirrix’s position. Others she happily spoke with, always ensuring Mirrix was in earshot to hear her praises, and her teasing, of her mysterious playmate. \n \n Alice making a show of it by having Mirrix get her drinks and hold her things may have sold the image too much, but the party got away with her. Not that Mirrix complained, spending the evening as a stiff submissive doll. \n \n Soon requests for play came in. “I’m afraid I’m not interested in holding the whip tonight,” Alice said to the first friend who asked, tugging Mirrix closer when she added, “But I think my nun would be suitable performing in my stead. If you are willing.”\n \n A few declined. Not surprising, Alice had a touch they wanted. The first to take her offer was Carmilla, a hairless cat who had a masochist streak that took time to flourish. Like dipping a toe into water to slowly acclimate to the temperature. Alice did the honor of strapping her to the X-cross, taking a moment to whisper that her nun was still in training and needed a confidence boost before proceeding to hand Mirrix the rod. \n \n Mirrix’s tool trembled in her hand. She took a stool to reach Carmilla’s chest, running the thin rod along it in trepidation of what to do. Alice knew the thoughts in her student’s head, and nodded when she turned to face her. \n \n They started with light strikes. Testing the wet waters of desire with hits along the thigh and under the heavy breasts. Mirrix waited on Carmilla’s reaction, reading every breath and wince to gauge the next strike. Carmilla, for her part, playfully urged the short nun to go harder, but Mirrix didn’t take the bait so eagerly. Good, Alice thought, she’s learning patience. \n \n Of course, patience is a virtue but play parties are better known for their sins. Eventually Mirrix’s rod made the air scream and Carmilla cry out. Red lines would layer atop one another from repeated strikes. Carmilla clenched her fists and toes, her smile defeating any doubt that she wanted it to stop. \n \n Carmilla nearly finished herself off when Mirrix opted to stop. Whether it was because she was tired, or desired to tease the cat by denying her, the goblin couldn’t say behind her gag or express behind her visor. Alice assumed the latter, as Carmilla looked quite flustered when let go. As did the line of new volunteers interested in playing with Alice’s pet dominant. \n \n Mirrix’s station lasted for most of the night. Near the end of the party Alice had her partner rest beside her like a pet, often on her knees but with pillows to keep her knees safe. No one asked about who the nun was and no one dared to unveil her. By the time the party had ended, and most were piling out, Alice dragged lead Mirrix to more private playrooms while others offered to clean up and put things away. \n \n “I need this thing off,” Mirrix said once Alice removed the gag, pointing to her crotch area. \n \n “Oh? Does it hurt?” Alice asked.\n \n “N-No. Least, not in the way you’re worried about,” Her black hood hid her blush, “Just…just let me out of it already. I’ve been pent up all night.”\n \n “Oh.” Alice, Mistress Alice, grinned. She leaned over her hooded goblin, backing her up against a wall before removing her visor to see those pretty eyes. “And what are you willing to do for it?” She asked, her voice low and sultry. The key in question dangled from her necklace as it had the day she locked Mirrix up. \n \n Reading the scene, Mirrix fell to her knees without breaking eye contact. “Whatever you desire, Mistress.” \n \n Alice first desired to see her student. Latex was fun for the party and even sometimes in bed, but she’d spent the entire night seeing black over green. She helped, of course, not wanting Mirrix to struggle or ruin her custom latex as she took it off in haste. Her short black hair was matted with sweat and she reeked of need and exhaustion. \n \n The personal playroom had a latex sheet bed which Alice commanded Mirrix to lay open once free of everything but her chastity cage. From there she spread each limb to the corner as far as her bindings allowed, leaving the goblin immobilized as if she were about to be drawn and quartered. The image did not seem to fall on Mirrix, who eyed Alice with playful, if greedy and desperate, need. More desperate by the air humping. \n \n Impatience deserved denial. Alice took her time undressing, making a show of every knot of her corset or the pull of her gloves. She’d have gagged Mirrix for her whining and pleading if she had something else in mind. But no, one cannot spend the entire evening watching their partner succeed and play and not feel an itch. Once bereft of clothes she climbed atop the bed, carefully stepping her hooves over the goblin’s bound limbs to give her a full show of the moist cunt dripping over her. \n \n No words were said. None were needed. The last she saw of Mirrix’s face was pure joy when Alice descended, pressing her cunt across the eager goblin’s maw. One hand braced the headboard for balance. The other gripped the goblin’s hair tight, clenching once Mirrix’s tongue set to work almost immediately.\n \n “S-Slower. Slower. Flatten your tongue,” Alice commanded through gritted teeth. She wanted to enjoy the moment, not rush to orgasm like Mirrix’s cock demanded. Her hips ground against the goblin’s sharp chin and soft skin, making use of her companion like the toy she offered herself up as. No, not a toy. A willing submissive. Alice lifted herself to both let Mirrix breathe and sustain her own pleasure. Every time came with a deep wet breath from the goblin, eager for more. \n \n Yet even she had to give some mercy. Alice let go to twist around, sitting herself back on the goblin’s face while she leaned in to get a better look at her cage. The hefty orbs glistened with sweat and it stank of precum. She sniffed it, sampling the smell like wine from a personal vintage. Her soft hands caressed the balls for a firm kiss. Her lips then braced the cold metal of the cage, tasting a hint of Mirrix’s cock squeezed inside. With her tongue she lathered it. The pleading under her was music.\n \n With a slip and a twist, the key popped the tube of the cage off. Mirrix was hard before Alice could remove the ring, leaving that metal blissfully tight behind her sack. The goblin was big for her kind, perfect for someone much bigger like Alice. It pulsed in her hand. Mirrix hushed to her touch, twitching with the hot breath blown over and mumbling incoherently as Alice layered kisses along the shaft. Many of this was not keeping the goat’s cunt in focus, and she swiftly reminded the goblin with a tight squeeze of her sack. \n \n Then came the taste. Peeling back her foreskin, Alice suckled the goblin’s head. Her tongue lathered the tip and coated the shaft as she went down. One inch down, half an inch up. Two inches down, one inch up, and so forth, until the entire shaft was inside her maw. By then Mirrix had forgotten she was servicing Alice, but the goat let it go. This was, at the end of the day, a reward for her apprentice. It just so happened that she could get something out of it as well. \n \n But she couldn’t keep this up forever. Not when Mirrix deserved so much more than denial. Alice got up and cast a blindfold over Mirrix before unlocking her, making sure the goblin’s hands were tied behind her back before the next stage. With a leash in hand and a click of a new collar, Alice guided her submissive partner back onto the bed where the goat’s open legs were waiting. \n \n “W-Wait,” Mirrix said, biting her lip in a moment of regret, “Shouldn’t I get a condom?” \n \n “Oh, don’t worry,” Alice said, guiding that green cock past her lips. “You can clean it out later, like a good girl.” Besides, today was a safe day. \n \n The warmth of her rod blossomed inside of Alice. Like a composure with a wand she used the leash to direct Mirrix, pulling taut when she was displeased and easing when she enjoyed it. Goblins were energetic creatures, made more clear when bound, but directed was the difference between a jackhammer and a rhythmic toy perfect for her needs. A toy she should have gagged for the pleading Mirrix gave whenever close. \n \n “Can I cum?” She’d beg, trying to keep her tempo on point. \n \n “No,” Alice said, knowing full well Mirrix didn’t know how to hold back beyond slowing herself, which wouldn’t do with Alice holding the leash. \n \n The goblin persevered. Sweat drenched her face, her tongue hung loose with her heavy breaths, and her pleading continued. None of this overshadowed the wet smack of her cock thrusting in and out of Alice’s pussy. There wasn’t a moment she could leave Alice’s cunt, especially now that the goat locked her legs around her. With one final push the goblin filled her, slamming her entire rod inside for each rope of seed. \n \n Mirrix collapsed into a sweaty mass over Alice. The goat counted her own bliss internally, marking three times she reached climax before Mirrix did. She nestled the goblin between her bosom as her hardened cock softened and slipped out of her pussy. \n \n “I…I need a moment,” Mirrix said between heavy breaths, “Before I do that…cleaning thing.”\n \n “You don’t have to,” Alice said.\n \n “Nah, you said as much. Don’t back out now.”\n \n Mirrix’s playful attitude had Alice laughing. “Alright, alright.” \n \n Once Mirrix did the deed and the two returned to cuddling, the goblin spoke up. “Do you think I’m ready to show this stuff to my tribe?”\n \n “Ready? I’d say so. But do you want to?” \n \n Mirrix paused. “Yeah.” she said after a few minutes staring up at the ceiling, “Though I’d need a volunteer. Know any subs?”\n \n Alice smiled back, “I might have someone in mind.”\n \n \n\n\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "       In the dim light of her private office Alice struggled on how to present herself. The goat had decided on some more domme attire with a leather corset, thigh-high boots, and elbow-length gloves. The corset in particular was chosen for how it pushed her breasts out, but now that she was wearing it she wondered if it was too much for a first time. Not a ‘first’ first time though, but a first for being a mentor.
      
       When she started her club, Alice expected to be a mentor. She became more of a director instead, delegating tasks to people under her to help the community flourish. She made an effort to compensate when she could, but she had few people she’d call fulltime employees over volunteers. Not to mention most of her employees were closer to retirees who needed something to do. She grinned at that. It never ceased to amuse her how the young were so shocked by seeing much older people enjoying the whips and chains. But kink was never about age. Aside from the obvious.
      
       But as a mentor? She’d not been so lucky. Despite her best efforts to be friendly and welcoming to attendees they put up a wall around her. She was the club owner, she was in charge, she was too important to be mentoring anyone. A session or two? Well that’s what anyone wants. Her personal pet? She didn’t really do that, preferring to play around with people. Maybe that was why people didn’t approach her for mentorship. It was certainly why so few people she knew were willing to top her when the desire rose. If anything, it made Alice more hopeful to mentor someone. Who better to dominate her than one she trained?
      
       That was how Mirrix came into the picture. Goblins were a strangely unusual sight in the bdsm scene. Mirrix later explained that goblins ‘didn’t do kink’ or at least not in the way everyone else did. Goblin intimacy was a free-for-all with the direct goal of pleasure. The idea of pain, or dancing on the line of pleasure, or even following orders in a place where orders should not exist to them, was downright heretical to goblin beliefs. It was why she was so nervous on her first day in the club, having taken the back seat in the audience during the monthly Friday-night lecture on etiquette and safety. The seat that just so happened to be next to Alice.
      
       Mirrix didn’t know who Alice was at the time they talked and had made some…colorful comments about the lifestyle. Alice ignored them because they came from anxiety, as Mirrix tended to break her nerves with a joke. The worse the joke, the better the break, as she’d say anyway.
      
       The goblin’s ignorance made her perfect to pry. When Alice learned Mirrix wanted to learn how to do BDSM properly, especially as a top, Alice volunteered herself to teach her. That resulted in several online lessons first, with tonight being their first personal play. So Alice had to wonder if she should be sitting on her desk waiting like a honeypot, or behind her desk like a boss impatient for their employee, or drop the dominant poses entirely and just allow Mirrix in without issue.
      
       She chose an amalgamation of all three when she heard a knock on the door.
      
       “You may enter,” Alice said, trying not to smile too much with pride that Mirrix waited for an answer. Goblins, as Mirrix explained, were impatient by nature. It took a great amount of restraint to even wait for others. It was why licenses with goblins were often stricter, which was why if you ever hired a goblin professional you know they took their job seriously, so much that it might as well be on another level. Of course, the more restrained a goblin was during work hours, the more explosive they could be outside of it. More than once she’d read controversial news of a proud goblin lawyer or doctor going on a serious bender after hours. It made being a clan leader, such as Mirrix, all the more challenging.
      
       Mirrix walked in with a slump like she wore the weight of a leader along her sleeves. She straightened when she noticed Alice sitting on the desk, tilting her head with curiosity on whether or not it was supposed to be sexy for the goblin or professional. Sometimes combining both provides neither.
      
       “Nice outfit,” Mirrix said. They hadn’t started their lesson session yet so she didn’t speak with honorifics. Alice preferred that. Far too many people used the term ‘Mistress’ or, Heavens forbid, ‘Goddess’ unprompted. She would allow no one, save herself, to prop her onto a pedestal.
      
       Alice grinned as she eyed Mirrix. Her black but shorn hair fit nicely with the leather jacket and tight black jeans. The bulge around in her crotch area looked particularly big, helped by the tight studded belt. “Not bad yourself, Mirrix. How has my task been treating you?”
      
       Mirrix closed the door behind her, locking it without being told. They both preferred privacy and Alice already had one incident of someone walking in without permission while a lesson was happening. “It’s…been difficult,” the goblin said, scratching her crotch. “I’m not sure how this is supposed to make me a better dom. Feels more like being a sub.”
      
       “And why do you suppose that is?” Alice asked, recrossing her legs, “Surely I’ve mentioned it before.”
      
       The goblin rolled her eyes as she exhaled a weary sigh. “A dom should know how their sub is feeling. Experience as a sub is crucial for that,” she spoke with all the enthusiasm of a sarcastic teenager. “I’m not saying I don’t like it, which of course is between us.”
      
       Alice nodded. “Naturally.” Goblin mating rituals were all about dominance. Normally it didn’t matter too much if a goblin was more submissive leaning. But as a clan leader, Mirrix had to keep herself dominant, else another goblin could try to lead the clan and she doubted anyone who could would lead them on a decent path.
      
       “But it ain’t exactly what I’ve been expecting.”
      
       “If we only taught you what you expected then we wouldn’t be teaching you much, would we?” Alice said. “If this was all obvious observation then we wouldn’t need mentors at all. Wouldn’t you agree?”
      
       Mirrix shrugged. “I suppose so.”
      
       With the formalities of casual conversation done, Alice raised her hoof as a sign they were about to start. Mirrix, as had been trained into her, bowed with grace after closing the distance. Her lips braced the hoof with reverence and desire. Alice smiled. The goblin may tell her that she didn’t enjoy subbing as much as doming, but her effort didn’t hide some love of the role.
      
       “Strip and present.” Alice’s command carried weight despite her soft tone. Mirrix stepped back, slowly stripping out of her leathers until nothing but her green skin remained. Her short stature only served to make her thick curves seem bigger, as if she packed more fat than muscle underneath it all. The standout however was the metal tube chastity cage hanging between her legs, its tight ring making her balls seem full of seed just waiting to burst.
      
       Alice waited until Mirrix placed both hands behind her head and spread her legs shoulder-length apart, leaving her entirely exposed as befitting her current potion. “Have you been sleeping well in the cage?” She asked.
      
       “It’s been difficult,” Mirrix said, her tone carrying a casual cadence despite her stance. “Some nights I wake up with it feeling tight. Been hard to not just stick a finger in my cunt since that’s free.”
      
       “But you haven’t?” Alice asked.
      
       Mirrix nodded, her green face growing a shade of pink. “Well, no. You said I wasn’t supposed to.”
      
       “Good girl,” Alice cooed. Sliding off her desk the goat perused her wall of toys for something. She looked back to see if Mirrix was watching and smiled when the goblin refused to turn her head. “There’s going to be a party tonight. I want you to attend as my dominant in training. You understand what that means, don’t you?”
      
       “I assume it means a collar and leash will be involved, Mistress.”
      
       “You assume correctly.” Alice chose a thin cane made of bamboo, “Do you have any issues with that?”
      
       “I might be recognized if other goblins show up,” Mirrix said. The ‘might’ was doing heavy lifting, as goblin clan leaders in the same city were basically celebrities. Alice had a no phone rule inside her club, but gossip would spread.
      
       “Don’t worry. Mistress will ensure no one will.” She swung the cane, more of a switch really, through the air. “Do you know why I want you out there tonight?”
      
       “No, Mistress.”
      
       “No guess?”
      
       Mirrix thought for a moment, “Does it have something to do with the rod you’re holding?”
       Alice’s gaze beamed the back of the goblin’s head. “It does. In confidence you’ve told me your fear of losing control when hitting someone in play. Tonight we tackle that fear.”
      
       Mirrix stiffened as the tip of the rod trailed figure-eights along her back. “Tonight I will teach you the sting of the switch. And you will take what you have learned to my patrons below. You will show restraint and exercise caution while indulging in a kink you desire. Is that understood?”
      
       Her audible gulp was like a pin drop, “Yes, Mistress.”
      
       While they had their differences, the cane, switch, and rod all served the same function in impact play. They were stingy tools meant to inflict quick and precise strikes. If not careful, or deliberate, they could break the skin. It was no wonder they were still used as punishment tools by governments around the world.
      
       But for a dominant, blood was a sign of failure. There were people into that, sure, but in Alice’s case she wanted to teach restraint in strikes. Her first experience with Mirrix’s attitude toward corporal punishment revealed the goblin loved the hit hard. She needed to know the pain that could be inflicted by light strikes in the right areas to better understand what she would do to others.
      
       So the first strikes came with warnings. Alice directed Mirrix to hold out a limb she would strike or spread herself apart to make room for the swing. Alice started with safer zones; forearms, outer thighs, etc, having her describe the feeling of impact and aftermath before moving onto the next. Soon red lines crossed Mirrix’s green skin. Her back, her butt, her breasts, even her palms and the soles of her feet were not free from strikes.
      
       For an hour this went on. Eventually Alice stopped calling out her targets, letting Mirrix embrace the incoming pain with surprise. She had to use a blindfold to keep the goblin from looking, which seemed to enhance her reactions from a pained grunt to a delightful squeal.
      
       By the end of their session Alice’s tired breaths mixed with Mirrix’s pained breathing. The goblin did not drop her position, only changing stance upon request for a better strike. This left her covered in red marks save for the most dangerous places like her face. Taking some balm and latex gloves, Alice set to work soothing the goblin’s marks. Starting with a sensual, if firm, massage of her protege’s breasts.
      
       Her next question came as a sultry whisper down the goblin’s pointed ear. “Can you tell how hard my strikes were?” Mirrix, whose hands were clenched behind her head so as to not grab Alice’s as the goat massaged her tits, grit her teeth and nodded. Alice rewarded, or punished depending on the viewpoint, her student by pinching and twisting her nipples. “Tell me.”
      
       “T-They were restrained, Mistress,” Mirrix said, biting her lower lip.
      
       “And can I trust you to be restrained?” She asked, blowing down the goblin’s neck. “My patrons pay a good fee for club membership. They do not want to leave broken beyond their expectations.
      
       There came a pause broken by harsh breaths. “Can…can you supervise me, Mistress?” Mirrix asked.
      
       Alice chuckled softly. Her hand trailed down the goblin’s stomach, dragging her mails to feel like the small legs of insects dipper deeper. “Mirrix, my dear, I don’t plan to let you out of my sight. You’ll be leashed, remember?” She punctuated this with a firm grip on Mirrix’s caged cock and balls. Precum spooled into her hands like water from a leaker faucet. She made Mirrix lick it off.
      
       Knowing all the right people in the scene made custom orders easier. Alice laid out Mirrix’s outfit for the evening, catching a raised brow in mild challenge when she saw the latex veil and matching hood. By now they’d dropped their session so Mirrix dropped her tone to one more casual. “Really?”
      
       “You didn’t want to be noticed, right?” Alice grinned, holding the hood between her hands. “Besides, there are plenty of dommes who do the full latex attire. There is power in anonymity.”
      
       With lube and perseverance, Mirrix walked out of Alice’s office unrecognizable. Her short stature glistened with black latex, her wide hips and thick legs hidden by the long latex skirt. The tight material squeezed her breasts firmly to make them stand out, and not a single seam could be seen between her sleeves and gloves as though the latex were a second skin. The hood closed tight around her head with holes exposing her eyes and sharp teeth, the latter of which Alice kept hidden with a panel gag. Best to keep her trainee from speaking if she wanted to stay hidden. The headdress helped hide her headshape, and as for her eyes, Alice added a small visor.
      
       “I can’t see more than five feet out with this thing on in the dark.” Mirrix said when trying it.
      
       “Good thing my least doesn’t go that far.”
      
       The party was in full swing when Alice arrived with her little nun in tow. The sight of her holding another on a leash always drew attention, and those brave enough to approach inundated her with questions. The foolish and the new were the ones she turned away, not eager to play with those only interested in getting themselves in Mirrix’s position. Others she happily spoke with, always ensuring Mirrix was in earshot to hear her praises, and her teasing, of her mysterious playmate.
      
       Alice making a show of it by having Mirrix get her drinks and hold her things may have sold the image too much, but the party got away with her. Not that Mirrix complained, spending the evening as a stiff submissive doll.
      
       Soon requests for play came in. “I’m afraid I’m not interested in holding the whip tonight,” Alice said to the first friend who asked, tugging Mirrix closer when she added, “But I think my nun would be suitable performing in my stead. If you are willing.”
      
       A few declined. Not surprising, Alice had a touch they wanted. The first to take her offer was Carmilla, a hairless cat who had a masochist streak that took time to flourish. Like dipping a toe into water to slowly acclimate to the temperature. Alice did the honor of strapping her to the X-cross, taking a moment to whisper that her nun was still in training and needed a confidence boost before proceeding to hand Mirrix the rod.
      
       Mirrix’s tool trembled in her hand. She took a stool to reach Carmilla’s chest, running the thin rod along it in trepidation of what to do. Alice knew the thoughts in her student’s head, and nodded when she turned to face her.
      
       They started with light strikes. Testing the wet waters of desire with hits along the thigh and under the heavy breasts. Mirrix waited on Carmilla’s reaction, reading every breath and wince to gauge the next strike. Carmilla, for her part, playfully urged the short nun to go harder, but Mirrix didn’t take the bait so eagerly. Good, Alice thought, she’s learning patience.
      
       Of course, patience is a virtue but play parties are better known for their sins. Eventually Mirrix’s rod made the air scream and Carmilla cry out. Red lines would layer atop one another from repeated strikes. Carmilla clenched her fists and toes, her smile defeating any doubt that she wanted it to stop.
      
       Carmilla nearly finished herself off when Mirrix opted to stop. Whether it was because she was tired, or desired to tease the cat by denying her, the goblin couldn’t say behind her gag or express behind her visor. Alice assumed the latter, as Carmilla looked quite flustered when let go. As did the line of new volunteers interested in playing with Alice’s pet dominant.
      
       Mirrix’s station lasted for most of the night. Near the end of the party Alice had her partner rest beside her like a pet, often on her knees but with pillows to keep her knees safe. No one asked about who the nun was and no one dared to unveil her. By the time the party had ended, and most were piling out, Alice dragged lead Mirrix to more private playrooms while others offered to clean up and put things away.
      
       “I need this thing off,” Mirrix said once Alice removed the gag, pointing to her crotch area.
      
       “Oh? Does it hurt?” Alice asked.
      
       “N-No. Least, not in the way you’re worried about,” Her black hood hid her blush, “Just…just let me out of it already. I’ve been pent up all night.”
      
       “Oh.” Alice, Mistress Alice, grinned. She leaned over her hooded goblin, backing her up against a wall before removing her visor to see those pretty eyes. “And what are you willing to do for it?” She asked, her voice low and sultry. The key in question dangled from her necklace as it had the day she locked Mirrix up.
      
       Reading the scene, Mirrix fell to her knees without breaking eye contact. “Whatever you desire, Mistress.”
      
       Alice first desired to see her student. Latex was fun for the party and even sometimes in bed, but she’d spent the entire night seeing black over green. She helped, of course, not wanting Mirrix to struggle or ruin her custom latex as she took it off in haste. Her short black hair was matted with sweat and she reeked of need and exhaustion.
      
       The personal playroom had a latex sheet bed which Alice commanded Mirrix to lay open once free of everything but her chastity cage. From there she spread each limb to the corner as far as her bindings allowed, leaving the goblin immobilized as if she were about to be drawn and quartered. The image did not seem to fall on Mirrix, who eyed Alice with playful, if greedy and desperate, need. More desperate by the air humping.
      
       Impatience deserved denial. Alice took her time undressing, making a show of every knot of her corset or the pull of her gloves. She’d have gagged Mirrix for her whining and pleading if she had something else in mind. But no, one cannot spend the entire evening watching their partner succeed and play and not feel an itch. Once bereft of clothes she climbed atop the bed, carefully stepping her hooves over the goblin’s bound limbs to give her a full show of the moist cunt dripping over her.
      
       No words were said. None were needed. The last she saw of Mirrix’s face was pure joy when Alice descended, pressing her cunt across the eager goblin’s maw. One hand braced the headboard for balance. The other gripped the goblin’s hair tight, clenching once Mirrix’s tongue set to work almost immediately.
        
       “S-Slower. Slower. Flatten your tongue,” Alice commanded through gritted teeth. She wanted to enjoy the moment, not rush to orgasm like Mirrix’s cock demanded. Her hips ground against the goblin’s sharp chin and soft skin, making use of her companion like the toy she offered herself up as. No, not a toy. A willing submissive. Alice lifted herself to both let Mirrix breathe and sustain her own pleasure. Every time came with a deep wet breath from the goblin, eager for more.
      
       Yet even she had to give some mercy. Alice let go to twist around, sitting herself back on the goblin’s face while she leaned in to get a better look at her cage. The hefty orbs glistened with sweat and it stank of precum. She sniffed it, sampling the smell like wine from a personal vintage. Her soft hands caressed the balls for a firm kiss. Her lips then braced the cold metal of the cage, tasting a hint of Mirrix’s cock squeezed inside. With her tongue she lathered it. The pleading under her was music.
      
       With a slip and a twist, the key popped the tube of the cage off. Mirrix was hard before Alice could remove the ring, leaving that metal blissfully tight behind her sack. The goblin was big for her kind, perfect for someone much bigger like Alice. It pulsed in her hand. Mirrix hushed to her touch, twitching with the hot breath blown over and mumbling incoherently as Alice layered kisses along the shaft. Many of this was not keeping the goat’s cunt in focus, and she swiftly reminded the goblin with a tight squeeze of her sack.
      
       Then came the taste. Peeling back her foreskin, Alice suckled the goblin’s head. Her tongue lathered the tip and coated the shaft as she went down. One inch down, half an inch up. Two inches down, one inch up, and so forth, until the entire shaft was inside her maw. By then Mirrix had forgotten she was servicing Alice, but the goat let it go. This was, at the end of the day, a reward for her apprentice. It just so happened that she could get something out of it as well.
      
       But she couldn’t keep this up forever. Not when Mirrix deserved so much more than denial. Alice got up and cast a blindfold over Mirrix before unlocking her, making sure the goblin’s hands were tied behind her back before the next stage. With a leash in hand and a click of a new collar, Alice guided her submissive partner back onto the bed where the goat’s open legs were waiting.
      
       “W-Wait,” Mirrix said, biting her lip in a moment of regret, “Shouldn’t I get a condom?”
      
       “Oh, don’t worry,” Alice said, guiding that green cock past her lips. “You can clean it out later, like a good girl.” Besides, today was a safe day.
      
       The warmth of her rod blossomed inside of Alice. Like a composure with a wand she used the leash to direct Mirrix, pulling taut when she was displeased and easing when she enjoyed it. Goblins were energetic creatures, made more clear when bound, but directed was the difference between a jackhammer and a rhythmic toy perfect for her needs. A toy she should have gagged for the pleading Mirrix gave whenever close.
      
       “Can I cum?” She’d beg, trying to keep her tempo on point.
      
       “No,” Alice said, knowing full well Mirrix didn’t know how to hold back beyond slowing herself, which wouldn’t do with Alice holding the leash.
      
       The goblin persevered. Sweat drenched her face, her tongue hung loose with her heavy breaths, and her pleading continued. None of this overshadowed the wet smack of her cock thrusting in and out of Alice’s pussy. There wasn’t a moment she could leave Alice’s cunt, especially now that the goat locked her legs around her. With one final push the goblin filled her, slamming her entire rod inside for each rope of seed.
      
       Mirrix collapsed into a sweaty mass over Alice. The goat counted her own bliss internally, marking three times she reached climax before Mirrix did. She nestled the goblin between her bosom as her hardened cock softened and slipped out of her pussy.
      
       “I…I need a moment,” Mirrix said between heavy breaths, “Before I do that…cleaning thing.”
      
       “You don’t have to,” Alice said.
      
       “Nah, you said as much. Don’t back out now.”
      
       Mirrix’s playful attitude had Alice laughing. “Alright, alright.”
      
       Once Mirrix did the deed and the two returned to cuddling, the goblin spoke up. “Do you think I’m ready to show this stuff to my tribe?”
      
       “Ready? I’d say so. But do you want to?”
      
       Mirrix paused. “Yeah.” she said after a few minutes staring up at the ceiling, “Though I’d need a volunteer. Know any subs?”
      
       Alice smiled back, “I might have someone in mind.”
      
      



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