Slave's Lesson

He'd annoyed me this week. The continual phone calls, reguardless of how many times  I told him I had better things to do than sit on the phone and talk to him all day.  And with each call, he would ask me what he could do for me, to please me. It was  really quite pathetic. I could tell him anything, knowing full well that he'd only  whine about it, or try to give me excuses as to how humiliating it would be for him  to do, or worse... excuses and pleas for me to give him another task. And all that  would be assuming he'd remember to do it in the first place!

So by the time he was kneeling before me, my patients had all but run out. Those  brown eyes couldn't even manage to meet mine, as I glared down at him, my fingers  tangled tightly in his hair, forcing his head back to meet his gaze.

Cowering and sniveling attempts to beg for forgiveness had already been silenced  with a tightly buckled ball gag. His hands were cuffed securely behind his back,  and the collar he now wore was fastened a bit too snug for his comfort. The cuffs I  placed around his ankles were latched to his wrists, making it impossible for him  to rise from his kneeling position. To say the least, he was right where I wanted  him.

Kicking at the inside of his thighs with the points of my boots, I forced his knees  to spread as wide as he could manage. Keeping his face held to my gaze, I leaned  forward so he could feel my hot breath on his lips.

"I warned you slave," I hissed. "Not to displease me."

Releasing his hair at last, I made my way over to where my whips hung within easy  grasp. Taking hold of a short black one, I slipped my hand through the wrist loop  and allowed it to dangle. Then, I reached to the back of my hanging rack, and  pulled out a small bar and a short length of rope.

Returning to him, I bent down and secured the bar between his knees to keep them  from closing. Taking the whip hanging from my grasp, I took hold of the small  golden colored serpent handle and eyed him carefully. His breathing was somewhat  shallow, nervous at the sight of my whip and the knowledge of his precarious  situation.

I'm told I have quite a wicked little laugh when someone's caught mercilessly in my  web. And even though I was not in the least bit happy with this slave boy, I was  indeed going to enjoy reminding him of his place and not to test me again.

In one quick motion, with ease and perfect control, my whip came down across the  inside of his thigh. Before his first whimpering cry released behind his gag, the  red welt was alreading rising from his skin. He shook from the sting, and as he was  spasming from the pain, my little lash was already in motion for another strike.  This time, the mark landed further up the inside of his leg, hitting an even more  tender mark.

He tried to jerk away and fell over backwards. This only opened his body up to my  whip even more.


With an amused smile, I watched his eyes clench tight and listened to his cries. I  could make out the muffled begs for me to stop; I ignored them, but paused for a  few moments to listen to him and softly laughed. Then, my whip began to move again.  One thigh, then the other, creeping ever closer to his cock - the one he'd begged  me only hours earlier to be allowed to stroke and cum.

It was no longer hard. He was no longer begging for release. One more stripe  higher, and I'd be whipping it. His cries had turned to screams at this point as he  laid helpless on the floor, bound at my mercy.

Rather than take my whip to his cock, I returned it to my rack, and picked up one  of my canes. I heard him groan and laughed again. I gave it a few test swipes  through the air. The sound was loud enough for him to hear, and his begging began  before I even approached him with the offending implement.

I began to taunt him with the tip, poking at him with it where his whelts were the  brightest, just to watch him squirm and hear his little whimpers. Then, taking a  proper hold of it, I gently tapped it against the inside of one of his thighs  several times.

"What's the matter boy?" I teased. "You don't like this one? But I do."

Without warning, I flicked the cane back and allowed it to slapped quickly against  his flesh. His body shuddered against his restraints and he released a howl behind  the gag.

I walked around to stand on the other side of him, softly tapping the cane on the  inside of his opposite thigh. Watching the whelt rise from where I had just struck  him, I grinned. With each gentle tap, his leg twitched.

"Maybe from now on, you'll listen to me?"

His head nodded frantically, trying to communicate with me. His eyes kept darting  back and forth between me and the cane in my hand.

"When I tell you something, I really expect you to listen to me slave." I chimed  sweetly, dragging the point of the cane up and down his thigh before resuming my  tapping.

Again, he nodded and mumbled what sounded like his poor attempt at a yes Mistress.  The desperate undertone was quite amusing.

"I really don't like repeating myself, boy." I said calmly, almost sighing.

Another mumbled attempt at a yes Mistress came from behind the gag, and his body  began to relax.

I tapped the cane a few more times, then allowed it to rest on the inside of his  thigh for a moment and stared down at him.

"Have you learned your lesson slave?"

He nodded his head and mumbled his yes Mistress reply again.

"No, I really don't think you have," I answered softly. Then quickly swung the cane  and felt it crack down against his skin.

His agony rang out and he would have rolled on the floor had it not been for my  boot quickly coming down on his chest, the sharp heel pinning him in place.

"But you will," I finished saying, once his scream quieted down into a sob. Then I  replaced my cane and retrieved a small box from one of my shelves.

Opening it, I pulled out a carefully wrapped object and began removing it's  protective clothe. He eyed it suspiciously at first, then began trying to cringe  away.

Grabbing the bar between his knees, I rolled him towards me and grabbed him by the  collar. Glaring at him, I forced him to be still as I began to fit the object to  his cock and balls.

From the outside, it didn't seem like anything special. Just a fabric harness that  cupped the sack, and wrapped around an full inch of the base of the cock. But the  inside was another matter entirely as it was fitted with sharp points, much like  thorns. They jabbed, poked and scratched with every move. And as it was being  fitted tightly while he was soft and placid, if he were to become aroused, the  points would most certainly do more than scratch!

Once I had it the harness secured in place, I gave it a nice slap and laughed at  his groans. I released his ankle cuffs and commanded him to rise.

After a few fumbled attempts, he was on his feet and mumbling his begs and pleas  for mercy and what I can only assume were that he'd be good from now on, and he'd  learned his lesson.

Taking a leash, I secured his collar to the chains hanging from my ceiling, keeping  his hands bound behind his back. Then, I retrieved the items I wanted from behind  my whip rack.

First, I put clamps on his nipples. Next, I tied a rope around his balls and pulled  it down tightly towards the bar that was still secured between his knees. Keeping  the tension tight, I tied it in place. This also put strain on the harness, forcing  the thorns to press into his soft flesh.

Next was his cock. I wrapped the end with a rubber band tightly. Then I wrapped it  with some twine, and secured a weight to it and let it dangle and swing with every  movement he made.

Finally, I moved around behind him and using a very large anal plug, I began to  force his ass open with it. Putting my foot through the bar between his knees, it  became difficult for him to move away from me as I thrust the plug deeper, until he  was forced to take it all.

By the time I was finished, the tip of his cock was swollen and tender. I grabbed  the string by which the weight dangled, and pulled on it like a leash. picking up a  nearby candle, I allowed the liquid heat to drizzle freely onto his flesh.

His screams were music to my ears. I covered every part of his cock with the wax,  not just the tip, watching him tremble and cry out in pain. Continually pulling the  string I held tighter and tighter, I made sure the experience was a long enduring  experience.

Finished, I replaced the candle and dropped the string, allowing the weight to  free-fall back in place. Then, I retrieved my cane and began taking aim at his cock  level.

He twisted and whimpered, desperately trying to get away from me. I grinned and  took my first strike. He yelped and as the first mark began to show, I grabbed hold  of the link on his collar and forced him to face his front to me. The weight  dangled and knocked against his legs as I used the cane to knock the wax off his  cock and leave one stripe after another.

The more he jerked and tried to resist, the harder I swung my cane. At last, the  the wax had all fallen to the floor and his cock was one massive swollen whelt.  Tears flowed freely from his eyes. All mumbles of protest had been replaced with  moans of agonizing defeat.

Reserved to his torment, he stood limply before me as I finally removed the weight  and rubber band from his cock and examined my handy work. His eyes completely  averted mine, even when I drug my nail down the legth of his red, hot beaten cock.

I eyed him up and down, then released the collar from around his neck. I walked  around behind him and undid the cuffs on his wrists as well. He stood motionless  with his hands hanging limply at his sides.

"Good boy," I said casually, as if we'd been having an everyday conversation. It  didn't take long for me to remove the rest of his bindings and equipment. He numbly  cooperated, and didn't say a word. I didn't ask for one. The only thing remaining  when I was finished was the plug.

"Now," I said motioning to the mess. "Clean all this up properly, and put it all  away."

"Yes Mistress," he answered, exhausted.

I turned and went up the stairs to make something to drink. When I returned, most  of it had already been rubbed down or sanitized and he was in the process of  hanging it up in its rightful place.

He glanced at me, nodded his greeting and returned to his work. I sat down on my  lounger and watched him. He wasn't trying to chat my ear off. He was simply doing  what he had been told to do, as he was supposed to be doing. Good. Maybe there was  hope for him yet.