Mistress Trains Man with Self-Degradation
“Why I am whipping you? What is going on? None of your business.”
The impact of a flogger woke him days ago. He found himself bound to a sawhorse contraption. An unseen person whipped his back and buttocks.
Knowing neither where he was, who had done this, he panicked. A roofie erased his memory of meeting a beautiful woman at a bar. She admired his muscles. “Just what I am looking for.” Flattered and horny, he was too eager for sex to feel caution. Why would he fear a woman?
Chained and helpless, he could not fight when the woman unhitched him from the spanking bench. She shoved him in a cage.
Silenced by a ball gag; he questioned with his eyes.
“I am Mistress Thorne. That is all you need to know. Hungry? If you promise to keep silent when I remove the gag; I’ll feed you.”
He nodded. She handed him a cup of white muck. It did not smell bad; he gulped it down.
“Good. You swallowed the slave slop without fuss. Get used to it. You may never again eat anything else.”
“You promised to be silent.”
Mistress Thorne shoved the ball gag in his mouth.
The next day she handed him a small pamphlet. She copied words from a thesaurus: synonyms for negative words. With a MS Word macro she arranged the words in columns. Each word was preceded with ‘I am [word].’
“Recite this if you want breakfast. Don’t mumble, rush or skip. If I’m out of the room, a microphone lets me hear everything you say.”
I am filth.
I am scum.
I am trash.
I am worthless.
He insulted and condemned himself for about a half-hour.
“Here’s a cup of slave slop.”
He swiftly ate the slop.
Her captive nodded.
Mistress Thorne pulled down her pants. She urinated in the cup.
“Drink this or stay thirsty.”
His resistance was almost gone. She would not give him a choice.
He slurped her piss. A cup of warm, sour shame.
“Slave slop and urine. I’ll give you a vitamin later. Proper diet for a slave man.”
Again that word: slave. Was she turning him into a slave? That would explain everything.
Mistress Thorne whipped him. Before every feeding he verbally abused himself. The list began to play in his mind. He dreamed of cursing himself.
One day, she took him out of the cage, chained him to a bondage frame. He felt something smooth and cold fit over his penis. A click.
“I have locked your penis in a metal chastity tube. If you serve me well, I may unlock it. But don’t count on that. Male orgasms are insignificant. They are so pathetic compared to women’s powers of sexual pleasure.”
He looked down, saw a gleaming metal tube between his thighs.
“I crushed your ego. Erased your feelings of independence. Taught you to see yourself as a typical man: disgusting and vile.”
He looked inside himself. Shocked, he realized everything Mistress Thorne said was true. Resisting her seemed impossible. He needed her. Felt he should grovel to her as a living Goddess.
He stared at her in shocked wonder.
“You may speak, slave. How do you feel?”
“Thank you, Mistress Thorne?”
“Is that a question?”
“I’m sorry. Everything is confusing. I need to serve you. I worship you. I guess in my heart I am already your slave.”
Mistress Thorne smiled at her new chattel. Men are weak. A determined woman, confident of her superiority can rebuild any man; turn him into whatever she wants.
( * His DeviantART page has vanished.)