Domme Owner & Slave Man
“That was only ten strokes. The next will be twenty. If there is a third it will be forty. You get the idea.”
Handcuffs held him helpless. Experience held him silent.
Mistress Alva ordered him to take the full length of her dildo into his mouth. Instantly he choked.
She beat his back. Ten bruising strokes.
Punishing men is her pleasure. She assigns tasks slaves must struggle to fulfill.
The word ‘man’ was a curse. Her voice conveyed only violent disgust. Her words melted male egos.
Mistress Alva acquired him only ten days past. Before the first day concluded, he learned to fear her.
Fist, whip or cane, she never held back. Each stroke and punch fell with full force.
“Open. Swallow it all.”
He tried, gagged, failed.
Twenty welts followed.
She thrust the black dildo in.
He did not better.
Forty strokes. Then ten extra for begging for mercy.
He panicked. He feared eighty strokes might kill or maim him.
Mistress Alva’s breathing was rough and deep. His fear and pain nourished her.
The dildo hit the back of his throat. But a half an inch remained outside his lips.
One-hundred-sixty swift stinging strokes.
He sobbed. Consciousness almost failed. She grabbed his hair, waking him.
Two more punishment sessions followed. The last was not concluded.
The cleanup crew arrived shortly after dawn. Thoroughly experienced and paid accordingly, their work was swift.
They erased evidence of the evening. All was immaculate.
After lunch, Mistress Alva called the slaver. She made her disappointment clear.
The slaver would send a free replacement. It would be sturdier and have a deeper throat.