Man Needs to Serve a Cruel Mistress
Danny squeals, drops to the floor.
Cáit was already home. She smiled as he entered.
“I’ve been horny all day.” She opened her arms inviting an embrace.
He reached to hug Cáit. Her knee bashed his scrotal sac.
Nauseated, aching Danny realizes he has come home to Mistress Cáit. His cruel owner. Affection was a pretense, making the attack a shock.
Danny is Cáit’s submissive boyfriend, houseboy, servant. But Mistress Cáit’s slave.
A year ago he signed a lifetime TPE contract. She slips between modes at whim. Recent quiescence disarmed him.
It is Friday afternoon, Mistress Cáit will play with him through Sunday. He looks up. She glows. He instinctively covers his balls.
“Too late. I’ll play with them later. Been too long since I gave you a proper beatdown.”
She kicks his side just above his kidney. Pleased with his moan, she kicks the other side. Danny is helpless.
Mistress Cáit grabs her slave’s arm. She twists his fingers, then the arm. Danny cries out. She laughs.
“Honey, you are going to have a miserable weekend.”
She steps on his throat. Slight pressure terrifies the helpless slave man.
“Get up, sweetie pie.”
She twists his arm behind his back.
“Dungeon time.” She sounds as if she’s talking of ice cream.
They go to a door. She opens it, pushes Danny through. They descend stairs.
Two-thirds of the way down, Mistress Cáit shoves him. Danny tumbles to the bottom.
Experience taught him the art of falling. Unhurt but aching he waits for an order.
She grabs his hair.
“Be a good boy and stand or I’ll tear out your hair.”
Cuffing Danny to a St. Andrew Cross, she attaches nipple clamps. Mistress Cáit loves nipple torture. Monday it will hurt for Danny to wear the thinnest, softest shirt.
Grabbing a favorite quirt, she whips his stomach, then chest. Intensity gradually rises until blood flows down to his legs.
“I’m hungry already. How ‘bout you?”
Danny nods assent.
“I’ll feed you tomorrow. I need to mix the boiled liver, bananas and instant mashed potatoes.”
Danny’s stomach shudders. But he knows, hunger will force him to eat the weirdest and nastiest of Mistress Cáit’s concoctions.
She leaves. Danny wonders how long he has for recovery. She could return in fifteen minutes. Or a couple of hours. Once she fell asleep. He stood, shackled to the bondage cross until morning.
Lost in the contradictory mental state off such men, Danny loses track of time. He wants release. He fears pain. But he desperately needs for Mistress Cáit to torment him.
To be whipped, punched, kicked and degraded by a woman.