Awake or Asleep, He Suffers for Mistress’ Delight
“You will sleep on your knees.”
Mistress Thorn’s whip cut one of the slave’s nipples drawing blood.
“Men belong on their knees. Their posture reflecting the inferiority of their gender.”
Words and slashes alternated. Both hurt. The former wounded his heart, the lash his body.
The man lost his name that morning. He transitioned from a part-time servant to a chattel, a nonperson. Now he answers to the generic ‘slave.’
Mistress Thorn believes in female superiority and supremacy. She not worries about proof and justification. She feels her superiority. Women’s greatness obvious to any honest observer.
Her superiority gives her the right to own and control men. Male suffering gives her too much joy to be immoral.
She whipped his genitals, smiled as he screamed and begged. In time he would stop begging. But screaming, moaning, shrieking, groaning are forever.
Mistress Thorn never gags men. She records men’s misery. Sometimes plays the recordings while a slave sleeps, or at least, tries to.
Kneeling, freshly bruised, listening to the sounds of his own and other men’s agony ensures that all his dreams are nightmares.
His slavery is more literally 24/7 than most. He often dreams of being tortured by women.
Hard labor fills many of his dreams. One dream recurs most often. He struggles in seemingly endless desert.
Strapped in a harness, he pulls a heavily loaded cart. A woman’s whip urges him forward. He cannot see her face. He feels that if he could his pain would lessen.
After dreams of hard labor, searing heat, lashes and muscle strain he wakes exhausted. Sleep filled with suffering never refreshes.
Constant fatigue impedes daytime service. Physical acts strain his weakened muscles. Perpetually weariness hinders thinking. Life is a blur punctuated with agony.
The slave makes mistakes. She never forgives.
Mistress Thorne deliberately hobbles him. She invents pretexts for wrath and punishment. She needs neither. But enjoys the theater of angry Mistress and trembling slave.