Female Domination 10 Book Bundle: Femdom, Findom, BDSM, Chastity Cage, Human Furniture, Bondage, Corporal Punishment, & More!
Page 12
The ride was long. Horribly, horribly long. Greg felt like it would never end. Were they traveling from one end of the nation to the next? He told himself they couldn’t go too far since he had to be at work the next morning. Until he remembered Mistress Lita’s job proposal and Mistress Emmeline’s threat. If they weren’t planning on his returning to his old job they could take him anywhere and return him whenever they felt like.
It was a blissful and terrifying feeling, being so helpless. Knowing that he had placed his entire future in these two women’s hands. They could do literally anything to him and there was nothing he could or would do to protect himself. He was definitely a worm and not a man. A real man would never allow himself to be so vulnerable. Waves of shame and humiliation washed over him as he thought what his workmates would think if they saw him like this.
However, he knew that given the chance of giving his mistresses up in exchange for all the self-respect and manly pride in the world he wouldn’t take it. He simply wasn’t wired that way. This was what he wanted. This pain, this degradation, this loss of power and control. This was who he was and Mistresses Lita and Emmeline were fulfilling a need from deep within his soul.
So lost was he in sub space that he almost missed it when the car stopped. Not paused like at a traffic light, but honest-to-goodness ground to a halt. He waited for what felt like an eternity longer before he heard the pop of the trunk and glaring sunlight burning into his eyes.
“What a good worm, you didn’t move an inch,” Mistress Emmeline said. “We have arrived so I am going to go ahead and untie you now.”
Deftly, Mistress Emmeline undid her knots and slowly, released him, rope-by-rope. He needed both of his Mistresses help to escape the trunk and step out onto free ground. Every limb had gone numb until blood circulation was returned to them and his entire body became one continuous pin cushion, He had experienced that pins and needles feeling in a foot that had gone to sleep, but never in his entire body at once.
“Leave the ball-gag in,” Mistress Lita instructed Mistress Emmeline. “Male toys should be seen but not heard.”
Together, they helped Greg walk pain-screaming step by pain-screaming step into the large white manor house. He was too preoccupied with not crying, too notice too much of the view, although he did appreciate the lovely cool breeze which brushed across his face as they approached the lion-columned porch.
“This house belongs to Gordon Graham, a local politician,” Mistress Lita said as she and Mistress Emmeline helped him settle into a wooden porch swing. “He has been away on business and doesn’t know that we are here. I don’t know when he will return, but it could happen at any time.”
Emmeline laughed at the horrified expression on Greg’s face. He didn’t want some strange man, especially a rich and powerful one walking in and seeing him.
“Yes, Greg. Graham could come home and walk in on one of us giving you a whipping. Or he could walk in as you are being pegged in the ass by one of Mistress Lita’s golden dildos. He could walk in and see you in countless embarrassing situations.”
If Greg could talk he would have begged for them to take him home, instead all he could do was whimper and look pitifully at his mistresses with sad eyes. This inability to speak and removal of his voice made him even more powerless than before. His cock stiffly approved, the rest of him did not.
Mistress Lita unlocked the door, Greg wondered how she got the keys and thought maybe this Graham guy could be one of her subs, but if that was the case he wouldn’t be shocked by seeing Greg in a compromising position.
He was able to limp inside on his own, once he was standing in the ornate blue-tiled entryway, Mistress Emmeline said, “take off your clothes now. You are to remain naked until we leave.”
Greg had been expecting that and immediately began throwing off his clothes.
“Uh-uh, all of the servants have the week off, so there is no one here to pick up after you, but you.” Mistress Emmeline said, pointing down at the pile of clothes he had left on the floor. “Pick those up, fold them, and place them neatly into this yellow tote bag.”
Mistress Emmeline found a yellow tote bag in a closet and placed it in the corner, by the front door. Meekly, Greg crouched down and began neatly folding his clothes. Last time, Emmeline had served as his maid, but not this time. Once he was through he placed his clothes into the bag, wondering if he would be arrested later for stealing. He was very nervous about being here, unwanted in some strangers country manor, although he kept telling himself that Mistress Lita wasn’t stupid and that he should trust her.
“Graham has a lovely sitting room, let’s go invade it,” Mistress Lita said.
Greg followed his mistresses through the lavishly decorated mansion, which taunted him all the way at how he could never afford to live in a place like this. He couldn’t even afford where he lived now and was sure he would soon be forced into a trailer park.
When they reached the large, sunlit sitting room, Greg immediately noticed a large, sturdy, iron cross
situated in the far corner, out of view of the large bay windows and glass-enclosed doors. The torture device seemed shockingly out of place in what was otherwise a very soft, cozy, comfortable living space.
“Mistress Lita,” Emmeline giggled, “where did that cross come from? Surely, it doesn’t belong to Graham?”
“I might have had a few toys delivered here, yesterday,” Mistress Lita admitted. “I’m sure Graham will be delighted by my gifts. And if he isn’t, at least our toy will get to enjoy them.”
“You said not to bring any supplies, so I don’t have any whips or good flogging instruments,” Mistress Emmeline said. “But I’m sure you ordered some.”
“My darling, Emmeline. Whatever do you take me for? An amateur? Of course, I ordered floggers and whips. Toy, I am giving you the honor. Go over to that large wooden chest, behind the big brown sofa. Yes, that one, with the schooner ship carved into it. Lift the lid and look inside. You may choose three instruments which will be used on you by Mistress Emmeline.”
Greg eagerly did as instructed. Inside the chest, which was much deeper than it appeared on the outside, he found a smorgasbord of whips and paddles and canes, all neatly organized on fancy looking hooks and shelves.
“My, my what nice looking implements” Mistress Emmeline said admiringly, while looking over Greg’s shoulder.
“Mistress Lita has good taste, doesn’t she, worm?”
Greg nodded his head agreeably while looking through the assortment. One interesting flogger had a spiked ball on the end that would easily tear his flesh. One was a long birch switch that looked like it would sting like the dickens, but probably not do much more than bruise him. He found a large wooden paddle full of air holes to makes the sting smart more. And an actual to goodness long, black leather whip with tiny little rocks on the end to scrape away his skin and deliver a double-edge of pain. Some implements would obviously hurt worse than others.
The question looming in Greg’s mind was how much was he willing to take? He appreciated Mistress Lita leaving this option up to him. He may not have any power but the ones she gave him, but part of being dominated by her, he was learning, was sitting back and trusting her judgment on when he should have a choice and when he should not.
“If this choice is too difficult, Mistress Emmeline can always choose for you,” Mistress Lita threatened.
Quickly, Greg made up his mind, choosing the air paddle, the whip with the rocky flares and the birch switch. Solemnly, he handed those three to Emmeline who smiled approvingly. “These all look fun. Good job, Greg.” She smacked his butt once with the air paddle.
Greg let out a garbled yelp as he jumped in surprise.
“Mistress Lita, I think we should remove the gag during the cross play. Part of the fun of whippings and floggings is hearing the victim scream, but he can’t do that satisfactorily with his mouth full.”
“I agree,” Mistress Lita said. “Remove it. There may be other a
ctivities required of him later which will require the use of his tongue, as well. But the silence command is still valid, Toy. You will not speak a word, but you may yell and scream when appropriate.”
Greg nodded to show he understood then rubbed his aching jaw after the gag was removed.
“Now let’s get you on that cross,” Mistress Lita said cheerily.
Greg approached the tall structure which looked to him like it was made of iron, but when he reached out and touched it, knew it wasn’t. The cross stood like a giant T, it had a cushioned headrest and two silver manacles attached to the top with a silver bar enclosure on the bottom for his feet. Mistresses Lita and Emmeline lowered the cross easily, so whatever it was made out of was surprisingly light. Greg was ordered to lay down on it, face first, so that his face was smushed into the headrest. Then his arms were yanked up and his wrists cuffed tightly to the long board above him, and his legs were grabbed and held together, while his feet were slid through a tight slit on the bottom. His boner was wedged extremely tightly against the single pole, and just like in the trunk he could not wriggle or move an inch to release the agonizing pressure.
Flashes of dizziness and disorientation flowed through him as his mistresses lifted his cross back up to its full and upright position. He could turn his head, but moving it made him feel so dizzy that he didn’t want to.
“Which implement should I use first?” Mistress Emmeline asked Mistress Lita, after she took off her long coat. “I’ve never actually done this before. I want to hurt him, but not hurt him. You know what I mean?”
“Start with the paddle,” Mistress Lita advised. “Use it just on his ass. It will turn all red and purple and be a lovely warm-up.”
“Right, grand idea,” Mistress Emmeline said. She picked up the big Swiss cheese paddle and swung it with gusto until it connected with Greg’s hairy ass. He was bound so tightly he couldn’t twitch or move, but she did hear a hiss and sharp intake of breath.
Deciding she needed to swing harder next time, Mistress Emmeline developed a tennis stance and let him have it with everything she had. She was rewarded for her effort with a great big howl. She repeated this motion ten more times until his ass was a beautiful rainbow.
“His back just doesn’t look right, does it? Now that his butt is so pretty?” Mistress Emmeline said.
“And now he is ready for part two. Just the lower back, use the birch rod,” Mistress Lita instructed. “The back is more sensitive, so you don’t need to strike as hard. And always be careful of the spine. The last thing we need is to have another paraplegic on our hands.”
Mistress Emmeline thought it wise not to ask Mistress Lita what she meant by her last comment. She liked wormy Greg and had no desire for him to become paralyzed. She took the birch in hand and tried a few practice swings, lining the rod up with the fleshiest part of his lower back. She nudged and poked and prodded him a few times to see his head snap to attention, each time, which made her giggle. Greg was helpless and totally at her mercy, which honestly, was a huge turn on for Emmeline.
“If you aren’t going to hit him, give the tools to me,” Mistress Lita said in a bored and impatient tone.
In response Mistress Emmeline cracked that rod over Greg’s back and listened in satisfaction as he wailed in agony. Not waiting for Mistress Lita’s approval, Emmeline let loose with four more successive cracks, barely allowing Greg time to breathe in between each swing. He was openly sobbing by that last one. It was hard to make a man cry, seeing this one reduced to a blubbering whale made her feel strangely victorious. She knew she wasn’t doing this to punish men. It was mostly for his benefit since he had volunteered. He needed to feel this pain, needed to be dominated by strong women. But still, that didn’t mean Emmeline couldn’t enjoy her work. If he got to enjoy it why shouldn’t she?
“The whip is more advanced and I don’t think you’re ready for it yet,” Mistress Lita said, the whip already in her hand. “I’ll wait until his sobbing stops and his breathing returns to normal before I’ll begin. These men crave pain, but we can’t go too far without damaging them. They are weak, fragile flowers, after all.”
“That whip made me a bit nervous, anyway,” Emmeline admitted. Those little stones are sharp. How do you wield it without ripping him to shreds?’
“It requires a lot of practice,” Mistress Lita said. “You’ll get there in time. I have faith in you.”
Mistress Emmeline smiled and basked in Mistress Lita’s praise. It didn’t happen very often.
“Ah, you see, he’s quieted down now. He hangs up there so still. You can see his little ears perking. He’s listening to every word we say. Aren’t you, pet?” Mistress Lita said.
His head bobbed in the affirmative.
“Good pet. You have taken your punishment quite well, but now for the roughest and most extreme part. Are you ready? Answer me with an ooo-ooo-oooh, if you are.”
“Ooo-ooo-oooh,” Greg replied.
Mistress Emmeline thought he sounded adorable.
“Good job, pet. All right. I’m only going to whip you three times. There will be blood after, but Mistress Emmeline will go and gather the first aid kit from under the kitchen sink as soon as I am done.”
With that said, Mistress Lita wrapped one end of the whip around her hand and let it fly, it was a beautiful magnificent shot, Mistress Emmeline thought. The end smacked into Greg’s back and wrapped around it. When Mistress Lita snapped it back long stripes of blood trickled down his back. She let loose once more, being careful to land on the opposite end of his back. And then she whipped him once more right down the center, in the most dangerous area.
Greg screamed each time, loud, full out, no-holds barred screams. It was a good thing Graham didn’t have any neighbors or someone likely would have called the cops. Mistress Emmeline’s heart thrilled with each of Greg’s ecstatic, primal releases of pain. He went limp with the third one and Emmeline feared he may have gone unconscious.
“He’s fine, Emmeline. Hurry now and grab that first aid kit. Get him a glass of water and the bottle of pain pills I left next to the sink, as well,” Mistress Lita ordered.
Mistress Emmeline hurried to obey. She found the first aid kit under the sink, just as Lita promised. An empty glass sat next to a bottle of pain pills. Emmeline filled up the glass, tucked the pills into her apron pocket and hurried back to the sitting room with the first aid kit tucked under one arm.
“Set those things down and help me get him down from there,” Mistress Lita said.
Mistress Emmeline helped Mistress Lita lower the cross and unshackle Greg from it, then they helped him up and to lie down on the soft tan carpet on his tummy. “Use the antiseptic wipes to clean up his back and then pour on the rubbing alcohol and spread it all over his cuts using the cotton balls,” Mistress Lita said. “That will sting like a bitch, as an added reward and will also prevent him from getting infected.”
Emmeline grinned as she poured the alcohol generously over his back and watched his body spasm from the pain. Once his back was clean she sat back on her heels to admire hers and Lita’s handiwork. His entire backside looked like Joseph’s coat of many colors from that old story in the Bible.
“We do good work, don’t we?” She asked Mistress Lita.
“Yes, we do. Now let’s help him into that dark brown recliner and give him some water and pain relief. He deserves it for being such a good toy for us, today.”
Mistress Emmeline helped Greg into the soft, cushiony recliner and helped him drink his water and swallow his pills. Greg felt drained and exhausted and much lighter than he’d felt when he had woken up that morning. There was something miraculous about letting yourself go and releasing all that pent up worry and anger and frustration that he’d been carrying around for the last three months. This punishment session had really done a number on him. It had been painful with a capitol P. A. I. N., and it had been worth every penny he had slaved away to pay for it.
“Once you have a little rest an
d those meds start kicking in, you will reward Mistress Emmeline and myself for our service by worshiping our feet,” Mistress Lita told him.
Since he wasn’t allowed to speak, Greg acknowledged the command with a nod and a thumbs up sign. It felt marvelous to be able to move his arms again. It felt wonderful to be able to move anything again. He rested until his limbs began begging to move and then he slipped off the recliner and knelt on the floor in front of the couch where his mistresses were lounging. They had turned on the big screen TV and were watching a soap opera.
“Take off my shoes and give my feet a massage,” Mistress Emmeline said. “I’ve been wearing these wretched heels all day and they’re starting to bug me.”
Greg gently removed Mistress Emmeline’s 3-inch heeled black boots and began massaging her nylon-clad feet with his hands. He started with the one on the left which wafted out a sweet and sickly perfumed odor. He enjoyed feeling her small petite foot in his hands and did his best to give her a massage that would let her know how much he appreciated her efforts.
“Ohh, pet, that feels sooo good,” she moaned.
Greg smiled. It felt good to make his mistress feel good. He quickly switched to her other foot and didn’t stop, not even when she placed the foot he’d just massaged over his mouth and nose and forced his head back so that his neck was forced into an odd and painful angle. He tried hard not to gag from the stench of her sweaty foot.
For her part, Mistress Emmeline didn’t seem to notice what she was doing to him because her eyes were closed as she was enjoying her massage.
“Emmeline’s feet are fine now,” Mistress Lita said firmly, causing Greg to stop and Mistress Emmeline to open her eyes.
“I’ve changed my mind, my feet are fine. Instead I want to try out my new dildo on your fine, rainbow ass. Emmeline, go into the master bedroom closet and grab the long, two pronged dildo that I stashed there.”
Mistress Emmeline looked like she wanted to argue, but after an ice-melting glare from Mistress Lita she got up and headed for an elevator that Greg hadn’t noticed before. Damn, this guy, Graham had an elevator in his house! Greg wasn’t sure if he was more impressed by that or that Mistress Lita had hidden a dildo in this guys closet. He had never been pegged before. He had only been brave enough to ask one ex-girlfriend if she would do it. He didn’t think that was the sole reason she broke up with him it was one of many contributing causes she’d said, at the time.