Mistress Owner’s Wrath
Helpless in cuffs, the naked man trembled. Domme Pepper’s sharp bitter words cut into his mind.
“You are only a man. I expect little from you. All women deserve adoring obedience.”
She grabbed his hair. Releasing and pulling. Each tug ached. His whole scalp hurt.
“Living in my home, permitted to serve me, you owe me thankful worship.”
She clasped his ears, yanked the lobes. Twisted them. Pinched, then dug in her nails.
“Your pouting is intolerable. You thought I never saw. You forgot the mirror.”
Domme Pepper pressed her strap-on against his lips. Shoved through. Ignored his gag reflex. The hard silicone sextoy banged against the back of his throat.
“Whimper all you want. Male misery is the loveliest music I know. Pity there isn’t a playlist on Spotify of screaming, shrieking men.”
She stopped, left the room. Bruised, battered, the hapless man panted, trying to recover.
“Now for the back end. Capsaicin cream should make a wonderful lube.”
Her swift, pummeling was the least of his pain. Capsaicin made his butt and guts burn like a wildfire. Domme Pepper laughed at his deafening screams.
He bucked like a horse, hurting only himself. It was as if he were punching himself with the floor.
She slipped out. Capsaicin would keep him in agony for at least an hour.
While he whimpered and squirmed she would bathe and eat. Refreshed she would start his first caning. Nipple clamps and CBT would round out his lesson.
She hummed happily as she stepped into the steam shower. Punishing men is one of the delights of owning them.
Originally posted 2017-10-20 08:57:51.