Nothing is Sexier than a Helpless Man
“You never look sexier than when naked and chained.”
He flinches as Mistress Owner’s fingernail slices through his skin.
“Helplessness becomes a man. He is as he should be: pliant and vulnerable.”
She thrust a thumb into his anus, massages his prostate.
“I’ll ruin your orgasm later. The proper relationship between women and men. A man surrenders his sexuality to a woman. She teases him, arouses his passions, then denies him any pleasure.
“Making you horny makes me hornier. Frustrating you makes me even hornier.”
She kisses her slave. Their tongues seem to merge. Momentarily he forgets his slavery; returned to the time when he was her lover. Her equal. Probably equality had been an illusion, his slavery invisible.
“I need to hurt you. I want you to scream for me. Watch your hot tears trickle.”
She holds a cane and a whip.
“I am generous even in ownership. I give you the choice: cane or whip?”
She smiles. His answer was no surprise. Her slave hates pain. But knows his worst misery gives her greatest pleasure.
Slave thought she would use each implement separately. Mistress Owner holds cane in one hand; whip in the other. Wherever one hits, the other device strikes.
She never gags him. The whoosh of the cane; crack of the whip; impact of wood and leather on skin; his screams: she delights in every sound of masculine torment.
The Domme drops the cane. Focusing her full attention and force on the whip, she raises his suffering by an order of magnitude.
Screams become whimpers; the male’s body grows habituated to pain. Tiring herself, she lowers the whip.
Remembering her earlier promise, she again massages his prostate. Ejaculate, evidence of a ruined orgasm drips to the floor. She will make him lick it up later. By then congealed, removal will be much nastier. She does not believe a man can be too deeply degraded.
His suffering has satiated her. He does not even want an orgasm. Just sleep.
Her slave will remain bound and standing until Mistress Owner wakes.