Mistress Owner’s Wrath: Whipping & Humiliation
He had once begged the Domme for mercy. She whipped him until he passed out. Woke him up. Repeated.
That is why he did not ask what he had done to outrage her. The question might only worsen his suffering.
Domme Alyssa came home, asked him how he could be so stupid.
Slave apologized. For what he did not know. His only wish to placate the powerful, ruthless sadist who owns him.
His apology offended Domme Alyssa. Saying words could never be enough, she began a long beating.
The wrath of an angry dominant woman. It is gorgeous. Any mere male feels awe.
Some, perhaps you, pray to become the slave of a Divine Bitch Goddess whose greatest enjoyment is your suffering.
Slave lived this moment. He had many times.
Her blows hit, marking, cutting his skin. Her words crushed his ego. He felt too degraded and worthless to live.
He felt awe. Also pain of body and mind. Agony and shame.
Domme Alyssa grabbed a whip. She whipped him with renewed force. Every lash accompanied by ego-shriveling curses.
He tried to kiss her boot. Her kick cut his lip. Tomorrow was shopping day. Everyone would see his bloated, damaged lips. A few would laugh. They knew he was as woman’s property. That a woman beat him.
It was warm. She had forbidden him to wear shirts. Neighbors and strangers would see his welts.
Slave is an object of public contempt.
Domme Alyssa tired.
She took him to a corner platform. Locked him in place.
A special form of corner time. He would not rest this night. Lonely hours of misery would follow. She might whip him again. Cut lines in his chest and belly.
Awake all night, he wondered what he had done. He would strive to never repeat the crime.
Domme Alyssa would never tell.