Man’s Painful Predicament
Mistress Henderson smiled at the man. Nothing made a man more beautiful than abject helplessness.
“You begged to become my slave. I hope you are enjoying your first day.”
His tongue chained to the ceiling, the man could not reply.
A chain locked his scrotal sac in place. Arms bound behind his back. Some men would cry. He is too afraid for tears.
Mistress Henderson’s cane tapped his leg. He feared she would swat him with force. Violent motion might rip his tongue.
“Is this how you pictured slavery? Standing in an agonizing position? Risking injury?”
She sighed. An expression of happiness, not empathy.
“You are mine to do with as I will.”
She poked his navel with the cane. His strain was almost unbearable.
“Man in distress. Man at the mercy of woman. At my mercy.
“Will I let your tongue be shredded?”
He trembled. Involuntary motion. Straining hard, he grew still.
“Not today. I have plans for your tongue.”
Mistress Henderson bent, opened a carabiner. The testicle chain fell to the floor. The man stood upright.
“You begin to understand your commitment more fully. As your Mistress Owner, I will dispose of you however I wish.
“My will overrides your wishes in all things. Your pain is my pleasure.”
Her cane swung. She whipped his belly and thighs. Walking behind her slave, she whipping his buttocks.
She stopped. He was not responding. Relief from not being injured overwhelmed his nervous system.
He would calm. Then she would work him over with her cat o’ nine tails.
There was nothing like the first day with a new slave man.