“You smirked at me.”
Mistress Juno slapped the slave man’s face. Grabbing him by his testicles, she pulled him to a rack. Her lashes fell hard and swift. His thighs and buttocks still burned.
The slave remembered something from his life as a free man. The recollection made him smile. He would never dare smile or laugh at his Mistress Owner.
Gagged, explanation was impossible. Useless. He remembered something Mistress Juno said on his first day in her household.
“It does not matter if I punish an innocent slave. He is merely male. I enjoy beating him. He should feel grateful to suffer for my enjoyment.”
This morning she said:
“I don’t know if you were stupid or insolent. For a slave insolence is stupidity.”
She whipped him again. The lash cut gashes in old welts.
Opening the shackles, she let him fall to the floor.
Mistress Juno led him to the Party Room. Ordered him to sit on a stool, locked his legs. He could not escape.
She left, returning a minute later with a handful of leather. The slave did not recognize full sleeve armbinders.
She laced the armbinders tightly, straining his joints.
Standing in front of him, Mistress Juno smiled at his misery. She left.
Discomfort soon became pain. His shoulders burned. Shifting position was futile. He took care to not tumble to the floor.
He wept. Not much. Tears only made her more sadistic.
Mistress Juno returned. She further tightened the armbinders.
“How unhappy you look.” She grinned.
“When you look at me, it must be with awe, adoration or fear. Slaves do not smile. That is a privilege of the superior gender.”
She pinched a nipple. Gave it a sharp twist. He moaned.
“Now, that is proper behavior for a slave man.”
She tortured his other nipple.
“Today is a special day for you.”
His stomach knotted.
“I put you in the Party Room because we’re having a party. You will be the guest of honor.”
She did not need to elaborate. Later many of her cruelest friends would arrive. They would pass the evening punishing him for displeasing Mistress Juno.
He never smiled again.