Slave Man’s Ordeal by Fire
Hanging by his wrists, the slave man struggled. As he weakened, his terror grew.
Fear, pain, involuntary inarticulate response:
The iron ball warmed. Heat moved up the chain. Soon it would sear his flesh. Wondering if he would smell like food, the helpless man gagged.
Mistress Owner watched without emotion. She admonished him:
“You are to blame for your pain. You gave yourself to me. I demand you honor our contract.”
He could not focus on her words. His mind fixed yanking his feet away from the hot coals.
“Please, Ma’am. Have mercy.”
He could barely form words. She hurt him.
“Why. You promised to obey. To do as I say without hesitation or reservation. Often you ignore me. Other times you procrastinate.”
“I’m sorry.” He screamed the words. One foot grazed against a coal.
“Of course you are. Pain creates regret.”
She watched his struggle. Still impassive, indifferent.
“A burn scar will make a permanent reminder.”
She began to whip him. Confusion and agony overloaded him. Only terror and the will to self-preservation kept him from fainting.
Then, shoving him with the whip handle, she started him swinging. Ball and chain yanked his penis. More pain.
His strength was almost gone. His legs would drop. He might never walk again.
She grabbed a bucket of water, dowsed the coals.
She unchained and helped him down. He fell in the dirt.
“Obey me well. Next time, I’ll walk away and let you burn. You said you wanted this life. No safeword. No mercy.
“Now you have it and must learn to live it.”
Overwhelmed by safety he shook. Wept. Moaned.
The slave crawled to Mistress Owner. Clasped her boot. Moved it over his head. A token of full surrender from a slave man who learned his place.