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Mistress Maria decided to teach her sex slave, meat, a lesson about becoming more sexually aggressive.
After a languorous and erotic session during which she held back while he licked her pussy, she finally permitted him to make her cum. Then, after he had made her cum again with his cock, and she finally permitted him to fill up her pussy with his sperm.
Knowing that her slave was physically exhausted and sexually drained, she ordered meat to the dungeon to set up for an evening of punishment.
The dungeon was hot and muggy. He had completed his preparations when she came down to inspect his efforts. He was naked, cuffed and hooded with his arms and legs spread-eagled, wrist cuffs bound with ropes pulleys to the ceiling rafters and bare feet forced wide apart by an ingenious bar constructed from a wooden spreader with shiny U-bolts inserted through the wood at each end pinioning his ankles. His head was already wrapped in her tight-fitting leather hood. She guessed that beneath the hood his ears would be plugged. He would be blindfolded and his jaws would be forced wide apart by an O-gag that cinched at the back of his head. The mouth slit in the hood was unzipped to permit him to breath more easily.
He had laid out her collection of whips, crops, straps and nipple clamps in an orderly rank, like battle-forged soldiers waiting at attention for their mission to begin, as she had taught him, from gentlest to fiercest. At the very end of the fiercest whips were a pair of electric paddles — her favorite toys — and the Charlie Charger was plugged into the timer, with one of its wires alligator clipped to a metal spring clip that she could clip to the back of his scrotum and the other wire terminating in the brass probed. As an added measure to please her, he had plunged the probe into a bucket of ice so it would be frigid when she was ready to use it.
She spoke to him only in Italian, which he did not understand, explaining to him that he would spend the entire evening spread-eagled, waiting helplessly for the next punishment to begin. She would come to the dungeon from time to time to torture him, but most of the time he would simply be waiting.
And she told him that he was forbidden to plead for his release. Then she left the dungeon. What she did while she was away, meat had no idea. Bound as he was, all he could do was wait, imagining what dreadful punishments she would inflict when she returned, and contemplating the importance of becoming more sexually aggressive, to be more pleasing to her.
When she finally re-entered the dungeon, first she zipped shut the mouth hole in the leather mask. He would be able to breath but the ever-increasing proportion of carbon dioxide to oxygen would drive him more quickly into subspace. She fastened a pair of plastic clothespins to his nipples that were weighted with heavy lead weights, then knelt between his legs and took his cock in her mouth. She began to masturbate. As her excitement grew, his cock swelled inside her mouth. She used just enough pressure to make his cock hard, but not enough to stimulate an orgasm. By the time she came herself, his cock was fully engorged and pulsing with the desire for release. He groaned when she let it slip from between her lips.
Mistress Maria stood, retrieved the smallest whip, the first one in the neat rank or torture tools. She had named it the Pink Dick Flicker. It had a hand-sized wooden handle from which several dozen slender pink rubber flails, no more than six inches long dangled. Then she began the punishment, swishing the Pink Dick Flicker through the damp dungeon air to sting the flesh of his bobbing cock again and again with the tips of the rubber flails. Then she wrapped her fingers around his cock, glowing red and hot from its torment, to hold it out of the way while she whirled the singing, pink rubber flails around and around in a tight pink circle that raked across his balls with each revolution. When she finished, she unzipped his mouth hole, removed the clothespins, put the Pink Dick Flicker away, and left him alone again in the dungeon.
That’s how his punishment went with the whips, crops and straps. Always she would zip his air hole shut then put some kind of clamps on his nipples, usually weighted, but occasionally a tiny pair with alligator teeth the just clipped to the very tips of his nipples. She would always take him in her mouth to make his cock hard, while masturbating to pleasure herself then when she was ready she would begin his punishment with whatever flail or flogger came next. Sometimes she whipped his ass. Sometimes she whipped his thighs. Sometimes she worked her way around his torso, whipping his back, his flanks, his belly. And sometimes she would direct the whip across his cock and balls. Then she would unzip the hole again, remove the nipple clamps and leave him again, waiting.
He thought she was finished with the whips after the strap. She always used the strap last. The strap was a two-inch wide, two foot long piece of thick supple leather. At one end was an 18-inch long wooden handle and the business end terminated in a fork like a giant snake tongue. She used it last because of its power and the sharpness of its sting. Blows from it landed with a “thwap” that echoed off the walls of the dungeon and the forked tongue would curl around the contours of whatever body part was the target and viciously bite at the flesh. Each blow left twin triangular welts where the pain evoked the sharpest screams.
But this night was different. She waited until he had stopped whimpering before she returned to the dungeon. After sucking him to erection, she chose another whip from the ranks. This time she picked the giant squid. The giant squid had a short rubber bicycle-grip handle from which 24, two-foot-long, round leather thongs emerged. Each thong was as supple as a tentacle and hung dark and heavy with oil. She stood behind him, letting the squid dangle loosely at her side. Then she cocked it with a short backstroke before reversing direction, sweeping the whip slowly forward in a graceful arc, whistling it between his calves and the “V” of his thighs, thumping it against his balls, then accelerating the leather tips as they snapped upward to sting the flesh of his belly, his groin and his swollen cock in two dozen places. The stroke was a light one so he groaned only weakly, but the next was harder, and each one after that harder yet. In Italian, she commanded him to scream, and he did, until the flogging of genitals finally stopped, even though he had no idea what she had said.
Mistress Maria could see that her slave was spent when she entered the dungeon the next time. He had been bound in the same position with his hands above his and his legs spread for two hours. His head lay against the muscles of one arm, and he wobbled on his legs, relying on his bound wrists to hold him upright. His reddened flesh was mottled and bruised and she could still see the twin triangular welts she had left with the strap. But, she loved this part because what came next would revive him no matter how far gone he was.
She zipped his air hole shut, clipped a pair of weighted nipple clamps to his nipples, set a chair in front of him, then picked up the two electric paddles. Return she took her seat on the chair, making herself comfortable. She charged the paddle in her first hand until its capacitor was fully charged, then she touched the paddle to the head of his cock. Meat gasped and reflexively pulled away. She touched his cock again with the other paddle. Again he gasped a jerked away. But escape was impossible. Alternating with the paddles in her right and left hands, Mistress Maria waited for his gyrating hips to stop then zapped the head of his cock again, wait, hips stop, again. Soon, his gyrating hips danced continuously desperately seeking sanctuary from the high voltage bite of the paddles. Soon, Mistress only needed to chase frantically bobbing cock with one paddle, holding the other still her slave’s attempts to escape one paddle would inevitably swing his cock blindly into the other. Eventually, she assigned the left-hand paddle to his balls, shocking cock and balls while her slave wailed away behind his mask from the inescapable swarm of hornets stinging his genitals.
Abruptly she stopped and set down the paddles. Meat’s wails died down and his gyrating hips slowed to a rest. First she changed his nipple clamps to a larger pair with a tight grip and a chain that linked them together. Then she picked up the spring clip at the end of the lead hooked up to the Charlie Charger, removed the alligator clip that attached it and effortlessly clipped the metal clip to a pinch of scrotum behind her slave’s balls. The clip pinched like a nipple clamp, but it was anticipation that caused her slave to pull violently away. She waited for him to stop then clipped the alligator clamp to the spring clamp. He was successfully wired.
The Charlie Charger was a simple, inexpensive device that was devilishly effective for torturing meat’s genitals. She had devised the system herself. It consisted of an electric charger, sometimes called a “pet charger” designed to keep pets and small animals away from a fenced enclosure. With direct current and amperage that was too low to be dangerous to a slave, it produced 640 volts of current that could be applied in momentary touches or continuous surges of electricity to cock and balls. She could control the length of the zap with a simple photographic enlarger timer. Her preference was a digital timer with a foot switch that could produce a shock as short as one tenth of a second, in tenth-of-a-second intervals up to 110 seconds. If she wanted she could also use the timer to turn the current on and leave it on. She loved it. Her slave hated it. The business end of the Charlie Charger was a probe that she had made from a copper pipe. It had an insulated handle at one end where she could hold it.
She set the timer to 10 seconds and stepped on the foot switch to start the Charlie Charger. Mistress Maria extracted the probe from the bucket of ice into which it had been thrust like it was Excalibur. When she touched the icy probe to her slave’s cock, the current surged from the charger to the clip on his scrotum, through his balls, up the full length of his erect cock to the probe. The slave yelped and jerked away. As with each of her other tortures, she liked to start slowly and crescendo to a merciless pitch of punishment. She loved the gyrating hips, the writhing torso, the muffled moans rising to shrieks. She set the timer switch to continuously “on.” She varied the location of touches to his genitals. Sometimes to the head of his cock, then to its shaft, followed by a touch to his balls. The slave twisted and turned trying to avoid the tormenting probe he could not see. Faster and faster the shocks shot through his genitals, faster and faster were his fruitless gyrations. She pushed him, exhausted and desperate, closer to his limits.
When she stopped, the slave’s legs sagged beneath him and he hung by his wrist cuffs, quiet.
Deftly, she slipped a loop of cord around the shaft of his cock just behind its head and cinched the slipknot snug. At the loose end of the cord hung another loop, which she hooked with the hooked end of rope. The other end of the rope wrapped around a ratcheted pulley affixed to the wall. On your toes, she commanded in Italian. The slave didn’t respond until she pulled the rope attached to one of his wrists, tightening it, pulling him toward the rafters. Weakly, but obediently he straightened his abused body. The ratchet clicked tighter. She repeated the procedure with the rope binding his other wrist. Working back and forth she stretched him a bit at a time. His heels came off the cold damp floor of the dungeon, and she continued inching him upward until he was forced to stand only on his toes. Satisfied with the hard tie, she turned her attention back to the rope stretching his cock toward the wall in front of him. She clicked the ratchet, one click at a time, stretching his hard cock then finally pulling his hips forward. Picking up the hook at the end of a second rope pulley fastened to the wall, she hooked it over the chain linking the nipple clamps. She tightened it, clicking the ratchet, stretching the chain, then pulling his nipples away from his chest and finally forcing his upper torso forward. Her slave was virtually immobilized. She took her seat on the chair again and picked up the probe. She set the timer to 60 seconds. In Italian she told her slave that if he could remain silent for the full 60 seconds his punishment would end. If he made the slightest sound, she would start the timer again and again. She started the timer and touched the probe to the immobilized penis. Unable to pull away, the slave shrieked. She stroked his cock with the awful probe, first along the length of his top, then underneath. When the shrieking eased, she moved the probe to his balls, drawing slow circles of electric fire, caressing them almost lovingly. After a dozen minutes, the screaming started and continued, recharging between with labored gulps of air through the twin tiny holes in the leather beneath his nostrils.
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