I am grovelling, naked, bottom raised, arms outstretched, my face pressed to the floor. I have begged Miss Spiteful to accept me as a slave to be played with for her amusement and subjected to extreme, merciless electric torture and she has agreed. I kneel, terrified, waiting now for her to enter the dungeon.

When I'd arrived we had had a friendly talk about the session and then, while I was still dressed, she had ordered me to kiss her boots in ritualistic submission. She had buckled on a slave collar with a lead and led me on all fours like a dog to her torture chamber to strip and wait her pleasure. Now I can only await her entry into this magical world she has created, a world of submission, subjugation and suffering: a world she dominates in a dungeon with an ethereal and disturbing ambience with strange lighting and sound. Nothing but her property and plaything she will use my body as she chooses for her own selfish entertainment and amusement. She had provided a mask which I had pulled on to remove all individuality. Faceless, it made me just a creature, a mere possession, her victim. Her one concession was that the mask did not cover my eyes so that I could see her, watch the divine enjoyment on her face as she tortured me selfishly, without consideration for her own stimulation and entertainment in watching me suffer indescribable pain, making me scream for mercy she would not give.

After worshipping her boots, she demands I kneel upright in front of her.

Reaching forward she takes my nipples between her nails and begins to pinch and twist them. "What are you?"

"Nothing but your slave, Miss Spiteful: your property to use as you wish". She releases my nipples and slaps my face.

"In future, slave, you will address me as "Mistress". Understood?" and she slaps my face again before I can reply.

It wouldn't have mattered what name or title I'd used: she would have said I was wrong and she would still have slapped my face to demonstrate her total possession of me as a slave she could treat any way she liked!

I shuffled on my knees and, as she demanded, knelt over the stool. Pinning me down by sitting astride me facing towards my bottom she started to use a heavy Paddle on each cheek in turn, mildly to begin with but getting harder and harder until my buttocks were flaming red, hot to the touch. Satisfied it was red enough she dug her nails in and raked them viciously upward over both cheeks, drawing thin white lines on my flesh where she had scratched, lines that immediately flushed red again.

Still sitting astride me on the stool, her legs gripping my waist, she reached between my legs for my testicles, drew them firmly up and began twisting them till they were pressed hard against the tightly stretched skin.

Very slowly but deliberately she began to squeeze them!

END


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