Mistress Owner Terrifies Him with Her Words
Mistress Adele calls the dark, comfortless room, the slave room. He sleeps on the stone floor without pillow or blanket. Here, suspended from the ceiling, she whips and torments her chattel. It was another evening of anguish.
Mistress Owner spoke:
“Do you know why I whip you every evening?”
Mistress Owner did not invite conversation. She kept him gagged. As she once said, what could a man have to say that was worth hearing?
“I beat you because you are a man. No other reason is needed.”
She stared in his eyes, as if daring him to dispute her words.
“Because I enjoy hurting you.”
Indisputable. Mistress Adele laughed when he moaned. She applauded his tears.
“Whatever a woman does to a man is justified.”
She started whipping his nipples.
“What could be more natural than punishing males for their inferiority?”
She paused. Inhaling deeply, her next blow brought a little blood.
“Or the joy women feel in male misery.”
His nipples were red and ragged, she moved to his phallus.
“In bed with my vibrator, I fantasize of your destruction. First I would whip your testicles until they burst.”
Were it possible, he would have collapsed when the tip of the whip hit is scrotal sac.
“When I would whip your eyes until each was a bloody pulp.”
Agony did not block the terror of her words.
“Imagine yourself crippled and blind. You would no longer be useful.
“Discarded, you would wander the streets. I could drive by and laugh. Or trip you.
“Who knows what your future may be.”
He hoped she only meant to scare him. But how could he know?