Everyday I watched the Mistress. I watched her take control of countless of people by reducing them to quivering masses of terror and pain. Rarely did her crop fall on me anymore, she barely even noticed me as I crawled along the floor, almost slithering in my attempt to be ignored.
There was a day not so very long ago that this place was full of people, full of joy in the servitude that we subjected ourselves too. We were all contracted submissives here. One thing or another led us to the Master, allowed us to be brought into his fold and be welcomed to our new lives.
But Master passed away 2 years into my contract of 10 years and he left everything to his favorite. She had always been our favorite as well, but a short time passed and she changed. Her once beautiful body had gone to fat, her face had developed lines and she seemed cheap and tawdry. As these changes had taken place, she had become harder and harder on all of us, lashing out with vigor that terrified us, often reminding me of the phrase “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
Even though Master’s clients had left her, she was slowly accumulating a paying clientele of whipping posts and pain sluts. They were the only ones who would tolerate her abuse much less crave it. Those of us, who did not have the ability to leave, cowered in the corner and whimpered when we heard the click of her stilettos.
It was rumored that one of the men had gone to her when his time was up and she had him whipped and thrown out of the house with nothing because she claimed he had broken the contract. She allowed him nothing of his own when leaving; thus he could not access the contract he had put in with his personal belongings. She did not pay him for his servitude; rather she kept everything. She threw him out with only a set of clothes upon his back. We never saw him nor did we never hear from him again and thought him dead till one of us heard her talking in her office. She said that he could take her to court, she had released him and he was sent on his way per the contract and really did he want to drag out what he did here in front of others?
We were glad to hear he was still alive, but still we feared for ourselves. We knew that she would loose all trace of humanity and beat a submissive till they passed out from the pain. There was no grace, no power in her then, only a madwoman with spittle flying from her lips. We all feared a beating that would leave us unconscious and possibly dead on the floor. We feared the gleam coming into her eyes and her cackle of pleasure when removing testicles from the men, slicing the tips of nipples off of the women, or worse yet, burning someone so that after they healed they could experience no sensation where the hot iron kissed the skin.
Day after day I crawled on the cold stone floor, alternately shivering from the cold in the halls or sweating, half faint from the heat in the great rooms. I had two jobs; scrubbing the flagstones that covered the floors and stoking the fires that she demanded burn in each of the rooms she frequented. She refused the to use the heating system the Master had installed. Because of my jobs, I was usually covered from head to foot in ash and she used to tell me I made more of a mess than what I cleaned up. It was rare that she acknowledged my presence anymore. When she did, it was only to kick me out of her way. I was grateful for the fact that she didn’t pay me any mind.
I used a combination of cleaners to make the floors clean and smell good. As a result, my hands were cracked, raw and bleeding. My knees and elbows were swollen and cracked as well. I often thought I couldn’t stand up straight anymore after all the time spent huddled over. My hair had grown long in my time here, flowing past my shoulders to the middle of my back. The Mistress demanded it be kept away from my face, I could find nothing with which to cut it with, and breaking it would take forever, I used my own hair to hold it away from my face.
As house servants, we were allowed a bath once every two weeks. This was another of Mistress’ rules. We would be washed and scrubbed with a stiff brush in scalding hot water, then scrubbed again with bleach, rinsed in scalding hot water then hustled out to a communal room where someone else shaved the men’s faces and the women’s underarms. The Mistress had said that these things were forbidden. I often thought that such a requirement was odd, but of course since she had been known to pull hair out by the fist full when something had offended her and we were anxious to obey her demands, lest we offend.
Each night we were locked into small closets alone and in the dark. God help the person who could not hold their bladder or bowels. They were forced to clean the mess with their tongue. One person carved out a small hole in the earth below the flagstones used it in case of emergency and it did very well. When the Mistress learned of the hole she had the person eat the dirt and everything surrounding it for a radius of two feet.
The slaves that watched over us were mindless automations. They lived for the Mistress and the sting of her whip. They seemed loathsome to us. They were all insolent and lazy and if they remembered to take care of us, it seemed to be a minor miracle. We were fed once a day. It was gruel made out of leftovers. Sometimes they just threw everything together and dumped it in a bowl and handed it to us. We were expected to scarf it down and we did. It didn’t matter if it was hot or cold. We were always hungry.
The zombies who followed us around were part of the Mistress’s new group. They took no pride in their appearance, just hooked their fingers into the rings on our collars and lead us around with a mindless shuffle. For all their imbecilic appearance, they were strong and to fight them was to be dragged kicking and screaming to the feet of the Mistress where, if she was in a good mood, she might confine you to your small space with no food for a couple of days. If she was not however, you could be beaten and thrown into the half-flooded crawlspace of the big house.
Down there, whatever rodents, bugs and other creepy crawlies that inhabited the dank darkness, could nibble on you. If you were dragged down there, you would be there for at least a week with no light coming in and no fresh air circulating. You were given a bucket to hold your own body waste and if the need arose, to drink from. For all its wetness, for all its slime-covered walls, the hard packed ground ranged from mud to dry clay like soil. Sometimes you could find a trickle of water seeping through the wall and could lick it off.
We lived in fear of the crawl space; being forced to catch our own food and eat it raw was too much for us sometimes. Some had been known to lie there shaking for their whole time in the pit.
I had kept track on my wall and knew that I was due to be released or should have been released like all the others around me. How was I to broach the subject? How was I to be able to leave this hell? How would I get what was owed to the others and me? I thought carefully, wondering what was the right way. The best solution I could figure out was that I needed to get a fairy godmother.
One day we heard yelling. There was a strange woman in the front hall. She stood proud and tall, clothed casually and wearing spiked boots. Her hair was held back in a ponytail, and her eyes sparkled.
“Hey Bitch, are you around? Where the hell are you?”
“How dare you enter my home without my consent,” the Mistress said.
The woman chuckled,
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, I am here to observe remember? Besides, you had better keep me happy. Now, I suggest you go wash, you stink. When you are done, brush your hair and teeth and we’ll talk.” With that she strode into the library where I knelt scrubbing.
“God it’s hot!” I watched as she walked to the drapes and threw them open, then flung open the French doors. A sweet spring time breeze swept in stirring the air. She laughed happily and looked around the room.
“Well now, what have we here?” She took my hair in her hand and tilted my head up by applying light pressure to my hair. Her bright green eyes studied my face, then sat me back on my heels. I had stopped scrubbing while she examined me and I watched as she gently bent down and picked up my hands. I wished I could have hid them from her. They were red, chapped and in the chapped area they bled some, mixing the blood into the cleaning solution. Her pretty eyes turned flinty and she looked at the rest of me. I was sure she was noting that I had not received discipline in quite a while. I knew that scars ran up and down my backside, others had told me so. I could feel the puffiness in them when I ran my hand across them at night. My hair was a ratty mess and we were not due for our baths for another three days. I was ashamed to be in front of this pretty, sweet-smelling creature. I didn’t want to offend her and was afraid that I would. I was afraid that she would find my smell, my lack of discipline, my very nature, offending.
I needn’t have worried, she smiled down at me stroked my tear stained face and then cracked her knuckles. She walked over to the windows and stood for a second in the fresh air. Suddenly she turned and walked over to my watcher.
“You, yes you, why is this slave dirty? Why is their hand bleeding? Why do you feign ignorance?” She walked over and sniffed at the air surrounding the watcher. “You smell no better. Have you no pride? Of course I can see how having that crone as a mistress could mislead you.” The watcher balled their fists, and started for her. Lightening fast the Beautiful Mistress’ hand flattened the nose of the watcher, and when the watcher dropped to the ground; she stood with the spike of her shoe at their throat.
“Why do you protect her when she lets submissives starve? When she tolerates smells such as yourself and that submissive?” I blushed in shame. “I would say loyalty is a good thing, so I am giving you a job to do, and you had best do it loyally. Open all the curtains in the house; fling open all the windows let the stench of this house out. When you are finished with that, assemble all the house slaves for me. I wish to inspect them.” When the watcher did not move she stamped her pretty foot down on their hand and the watcher howled. “When I tell you go, you go,” she said quietly. Needless to say, the watcher went.
I stayed scrubbing in the room, I wanted to be there for her, to serve her in anyway I could. I knew I was nothing to look at, but she could use me as a footstool, a rug to rest her pretty feet on. Then as I was musing, I hit on it; I could clean her boots. I scooted over to where she stood looking out the window. Slowly gently I lowered my head to the floor, near her feet and pressed my lips to her boot. She shifted out of my range and strode to the door angry and pacing. I sobbed to myself as I crawled back to my bucket. Tears dripped down my face and hit the floor. I mixed them with the solution and wiped them away.
“You, quit that. You have had enough scrubbing today.”
She kicked the brush out of my hand. I watched as it went skittering across the room to whack into the Mistress’s desk. I slowly worked my way around and headed over to pick it up. I brought it back and started scrubbing again. I heard her sound of annoyance and saw her squat down next to me.
“I told you, enough scrubbing for today.” I shook my head mutely. “What do you mean no?”
“Beautiful Mistress, I cannot. My Mistress will beat me and put me downstairs if I do not finish today.” My voice was harsh and uncertain from lack of use.
“Not today,” she said softly, “not today. You are protected; I give you that protection. Do you trust me?” I nodded, tears streaming down my face again. I would have followed this beautiful woman to my death if she but asked. “Good, then please, rest. You are thin, bleeding and you look exhausted.”
I slumped back on the floor and lay down with my head on my arm. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep right there in the warm sunshine. I did not dream, rather slept like the dead. I awoke to the Mistress strolling in; the click of her heels could wake me from a sound sleep with my heart pounding. I quickly sat up and almost knocked over the bucket in the process. The Mistress strolled past me to the Beautiful Mistress and stood there. Her hair was wet and combed back. She looked clean, but nothing could make her look fresh anymore. She had lost that quality a long time ago.
“You have bathed, now what of your attitude?”
“What do you mean,” the Mistress responded sullenly.
“You came to us for help. You agreed to do whatever it took if we allowed you back into the fold. You were tired of being ostracized and criticized and you needed our help legally.” My ears perked up. “I have had the rest of your slaves brought here, they will be arriving in a few minutes. I pray that they do not all look as starved as this one, nor as dirty and abused or you will be answering to The Counsel.” The Mistress looked worried for a second. “Because as you know, if you have broken the rules of contract and trust, The Counsel has the right to put you to death or worse, commit you to a period of submission equal to what has been done here. Are you prepared to live the rest of your life in chains at the service of others? Perhaps at the hands of those you abused? Of course, you know all of these rules, your Master was leader of The Counsel for 20 years and he taught you the law.” The Mistress lowered her eyes, and said nothing.
Just then a rotund little man came in the room. With him he carried a large bag which he had slung over his shoulder. He set it down by the Beautiful Mistress and greeted her in the traditional way by kissing each cheek.
“This is my own personal physician. He will examine the subs that are in your care. You need not be here. I would instead, go through your things and decide what one item means more to you than any other. It could be that we will allow you to take it when you are sent from here.” The Mistress left, clicking her way out of the room, causing me to draw back out of her reach.
“So,” the little man smiled, “what do you think we will find here?”
“If the others are anything like that one, well, I pray that bitch dies. You there, come here.” I scurried over, placed my head on the cold stones. “Look at what she has done, I remember this one from eleven years ago.” Eleven years? Oh God, I had stayed longer than I thought. I started to sob and the Beautiful Mistress gently stroked my head. “This one used to be a fine specimen and now look, starved, you can see the bones through the skin. Apparently the only thing this one does day in and out is scrub the floor. Shameful.”
I looked up and shook my head and the doctor noticed. He nudged the Beautiful Mistress and nodded towards me. She looked at me and nodded. I took that as my signal to speak.
“Beautiful Mistress, I did more than scrub floors, I bring in wood and tend the fireplaces. I am not useless, I can do more than one thing.”
She watched me and nodded, then turned to her Doctor friend and said again in a flat voice, “Shameful.” The other subs were brought in and the Doctor started the examinations. Most of them had infected sores and were barely able to kneel. He helped them out to a large truck which had padding laid down. I helped him get them outside, and watched as they fell into an exhausted sleep. The padding looked so comfortable and I longed to climb in with them, but I was determined to prove my worth to them.
When the last one was done, the Beautiful Mistress asked me if there were any more. I honestly had no idea and told her so. I suggested they check under the house in the crawlspace and see if there was one more in there. We looked and found one, barely holding on to life. We took her out to the truck and closed it up and sent them to a clinic to be cared for. The Doctor clapped me on my shoulder and thanked me for helping. I did not know why. I was a submissive, what else would I have done? I served anyone and it was obvious that the others needed my help. I was glad to be doing something.
When the truck was sent away, it took word for the Council Guards. They were to come out and clamp the Mistress in chains and lead her to The Council Table where The Council waited to sit in judgement of her. The watchers were gathered up and taken away as well. I did not ask where they were going, so long as I never had to see them again I did not care.
The Beautiful Mistress and the Doctor put me in a different car and both got in with me after the guards had arrived. We drove to The Council Table and they had me wait next to them. I did not want to do this; I did not want to tell the story of what I had seen. I wanted instead to sleep for a few days, eat a little bit and go back to sleep. The Beautiful Mistress spoke for a while, then the Doctor. They had me get up and showed The Council the disfigurements the Mistress had inflicted upon me. The Council members were disturbed. I was supposed to speak to them, tell them what had happened to me, but I was so nervous, scared and tired that I passed out.
When I woke the sun was shining and there was a very pretty woman sitting by my bed. It was not the Beautiful Mistress, only a Young Mistress. She had stacks and stacks of paper, piled high, and several sharpened pencils lying next to it. In her hand was a book that she slowly turned the pages on. I watched her for a few minutes before she looked up and met my gaze.
“Well now, you are awake, how do you feel?” As she spoke, she pulled a silver braided cord by the desk. I heard the gentle music of bells chiming somewhere far away. She turned and looked at me, her hands were folded in her lap, and she smiled sweetly at me.
“Fine?” I answered, not sure how I should address her. I added “Young Mistress” for good measure. She dimpled her pleasure and smiled even more so.
“Good, I am glad to hear it, you gave us all quite a scare. I am The Council Secretary; I am to take down the stories you give me. I need to write the woman’s crimes down for all to see and then add her punishment for all to heed.”
“Yeess, Young Mistress.”
“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you wish for anything before we get started?” The door to the room opened and in strode the Beautiful Mistress. I dove to the ground, ignoring my screaming muscles and planted my forehead on to the soft plush carpet. The Young Mistress squealed and dove out of the chair she had been resting in. She raced to me, and lifted me back up.
“Please, your service has ended, you are a valued guest here. You need bow to no one. Do you understand?”
I shook my head to clear the spots from before my eyes. It took that amount of time before it struck me that she had said I was no longer a submissive, rather a Free Person, a guest of the Most Beautiful Mistress. This did not make sense. I was not a Free Person. I was a submissive. My Mistress had told me that I was not worth the effort to even train how to lick boots. She said I did not have enough brains to coordinate doing anything socially. She said I was only good for scrubbing and tending fires. She said I should be grateful that she let me do that. She said I could be a whipping post, but that even that was boring with me.
I started to shake, my body trembled and I burst into tears. The Beautiful Mistress stroked my hair and soothed me with wordless sounds. She pulled my face to hers, and looked me in the eye.
“It is okay to be scared, but in your eleven, almost twelve, years of submission you have served very well. You are a special person for making it through the hell that she put you through. Please try to understand. We will not cast you out and we will let no harm come to you. It is we, who failed you. Okay?”
I nodded slowly and tried to collect myself. The sensation of her arms around me felt strange and I was uncomfortable. She would not allow me to pull away, rather trapped me there, making me handle the feelings that went through me. I struggled on the inside resisting the pull of her arms, and the terror I felt at having her arms around me. When the Mistress had wrapped her arms around us, it was a prelude to something horrible. I thought about the first time she had done that to me and began to speak.
“It was right after Mistress found out that Master had passed on to the next life. She wrapped her arms around me and wailed her eyes out. At that time she did not know she had inherited the house and all the property. She cried for him, she begged to the Goddess to bring him back to her. I tried to comfort her as much as I could; yet as soon as she realized that someone empathized with her, she pulled back and slapped me as hard as she could. She snapped my head around, knocking a tooth loose. My mouth filled with blood and I spat it on the floor. She looked at the blood and went off on me. She plied me with a cane, broke a chair over my back and proceeded to stab at me with the pieces. I cried and begged her to stop, but she could not. It seemed as though my empathy for her broke a wall and left her to rage helplessly.
She pulled a great bullwhip from the wall and proceeded to beat me unmercifully. She flayed open my back and shoulders, stripping the skin off of me in big long strips. I kept screaming for mercy, but she either couldn’t hear me or wouldn’t hear me.
I do not remember the next 4 days. Apparently after, she had heated a poker and seared all the strips back together, leaving my back in an oozing, burnt and bleeding mess. When she was finished with that, she beat the bottoms of my feet with a cane, flipping me over with no regard to the flesh of my back that she had just tortured. While she was whipping the cane through the air, she wasn’t particular where the cane landed. If it landed on my feet, fine, if it landed on my legs or stomach, she really didn’t care. She whipped me with that till I was almost dead. She broke the skin of both of my cheeks with the cane. Those took a long time to heal and probably did the most to break my spirit. I was proud of my looks in my former life.
About two hours after the first slap someone came in to see her viciously branding me on the bottom of my feet. I was passed out and almost dead. The submissive went out and told the Minor Chancellor of what was happening and they barged in on her. She did nothing but stutter about grief and how upset she was. The Minor Chancellor assumed she was in shock and had me carried away to heal. No actions were ever taken against her for my beating. I was cleaned up and left in a room by myself for almost 8 weeks then I was put back into her household. My first day back she told me what my duties were to be. I was to care for the flagstones because I had spit blood on them on that fateful day. I was to care for the fires to remind myself of whom I owed duty to.”
I fell silent at the end of that story, sobbing quietly in the Beautiful Mistress’ arms. She nodded to the Young Mistress who pulled again on the bell cord. I heard the soft clamor in the back of the house and I fell asleep right after hearing the Beautiful Mistress direct someone to find the Minor Chancellor and have him meet her in her chambers.
I woke later on to what I thought was the same evening. The Young Mistress had been replaced with an older woman. I did not know what to call her, but watched her sew and hum to herself while she rocked. I drifted back off to the strains of her humming echoing through my ears.
I dreamt of my Mistress. I was scrubbing the floor by her feet and she was humming a little tune. I carefully worked my way around her feet and waited patiently for her to move them a bit. She ignored me completely. I knew I was not allowed to leave until the room was done and she refused to move her feet the least little bit. I grew impatient and started to scrub around her feet again. When she still refused to lift them, I lifted them for her. She waited till I was done and then stood up and pushed away from the desk.
She went to the wall and got a whip. She unfurled it and had me kneel with my ass to her. She played the whip over my back and ass. She brought the whip down on me over and over and over till I was screaming so hard that I broke my voice. All I could do after that was manage a choked sound. She whipped me till blood dripped on the floor surrounding me in a puddle of blood that started to spin like water going down the drain. The blood took me with it, into a dark void where there was no sound, no action no feeling. I felt safe in the void and fell asleep with my hair trailing in the blood, circling in the void.
I woke up again at night, the Young Mistress was in the rocker, slowly rocking and reading silently. I watched her for a short time before drifting off again. I dreamt again of my Mistress as she was with Master, beautiful, vibrant, and smiling all the time. In front of my eyes I watched her change into what she became and I was scared. I know I was whimpering in my sleep because I awoke to the Young Mistress gently shaking me awake. She crawled into the bed with me and held me close, waiting for the shaking to pass and finally allowing me to fall into a dreamless sleep.
The next time I awoke, the older woman bustled around the room. The sunlight was streaming in and the sound of running water came from the bathroom.
“You’re awake I see, come, let’s get you into a bath. You have had sponge baths, but you need a proper one.” Terror immediately ran rampant through me. I took a deep breath. I had always hated baths with my Mistress, but surely this was not to be as bad.
I followed her into the room on my hands and knees and she frowned at me for not walking like I should have. I saw a tub I could totally submerge my self in, with scented steam wafting up from the water. It smelled like a rich combination of spices, I could pick out cinnamon and vanilla. I flashed a soft grin; I would smell like a cake. I carefully tested the water and found it to be soothing and warm, but not so much so that it would burn me. The scent was wonderful. I laid back dunking my head and feeling the length of my hair. I came up and asked if I could get my locks cut short. She nodded and said it would be taken care of as soon as we finished. She washed my body, gently soaping it and clucking over the scars. She soaped my hair with something that smelled like lemons and rinsed and soaped again. Then she loaded some kind of cream in it and left it there while she filed on my feet, hands, knees and elbows. When they were smooth to her satisfaction, she brushed my teeth, taking careful note of cavities. I had always paid attention to my teeth. I would brush them with my finger or with any rough woven cloth I could find. I dared not use the cleaning brushes I used on the floor, I was afraid they would poison me.
She rinsed the cream out of my hair and then got me out of the bath, wrapped a warmed towel around me. I was placed on a stool while she combed the tangles out of my hair. After she was done, she put a long white robe on me that I had to raise my arms to get into. She belted it loosely around my waist and put my feet into soft white slippers. I was lead down a hall to what appeared to be a dentist’s office. He took pictures of my teeth, then fixed them for me.
After that was done, I was lead back to my room where a short woman waited with a pair of scissors. She cut my hair very short. I asked it to be left short on the sides and a bit longer on the top. The curls that occurred naturally in my hair tumbled over my head. My brown eyes seemed bigger somehow, my lashes seemed longer, my mouth wider and more generous since the disappearance of all of that hair. The square line of my jaw showed in the starvation of my body but it accented my prominent cheekbones.
I have always been tall, but standing there after my haircut looking down at the short woman it seemed I was a giant. The world began to spin around me as another memory surfaced about my Mistress.
“She had me climb to the rafters to clean them. I watched as a man was led in. She walked to a vat that was in the center of the room. She dipped her hand in and I watched as she walked dripping over to the table and then watched as she forced her hand and part of her arm into his ass. He screamed the whole time that her hand worked its way into his body. She worked him over; her arm invaded his body over and over. He had passed out in the midst and she had cold water thrown over him to revive him. After she was bored of raping him so brutally, she allowed the others in the room to take him as they wished. She watched and seemed to gain no pleasure from the spectacle.
When he was finally unbound he crawled to her feet and kissed them lovingly. The smile on his face surprised me. I realized he wanted this abuse. When he was done she spat at him and started kicking him. She kicked him so much he spat up blood. When she saw that, she had him taken away. He didn’t come back for a long time, but when he did I saw he had the same soft smile on his face. She never beat him as hard as she had that time, but she consistently hurt him.
When he had been carried out, She looked up at me in the rafters and motioned me to come down. I carried my bucket and climbed back down. She had me clean the filth on the floor while she ridiculed me. She told me that while she hated the person she had just worked with, yet she preferred him to me. She told me that she would never touch me and would force me to clean up after everyone else. She told me I didn’t deserve her attention. I was not good enough to do anything but clean up after others. I believed her; after all she was my Mistress. She was my reason for being and I couldn’t help the fact that I repulsed her.”
I snapped back to reality suddenly and found my self still staring down at the short woman who now sat in a chair, holding a handkerchief to her eyes, sobbing softly at the tale I told. I feel to my knees before her and lay my head on her knee. Her hand softly ran through my newly shaven hair and she and I sat there together for a bit. She patted my shoulder and stood up, I followed her as she led me to the Beautiful Mistress. I immediately went to my knees out of respect for her. She merely shook her head and told me to stand. She walked me over to a chair and while we walked I noticed she was shorter than I am, but not my much. Her graceful neck flowed into her shoulders and though a robe of dark blue hid her body I could follow the contours of her body under it. Her little derriere swayed underneath the robe almost hypnotically.
“We have noticed in several of the male submissives who were under contract to your Mistress, have had their testicles removed. Since none of them have showed any inclination, much less ability, to talk or carry on a conversation, I have brought you here to tell us what happened if you know.” I was silent for a few seconds contemplating if I could convey what I had seen over and over. I thought back to the first I had seen and started describing what I remembered.
“I was in the dungeon cleaning the floor. I had just stocked the wood and cleaned the fireplace. She brought in a man and had him tied to the big black X that resided in the middle of the room. She paced in front of him, slapping his face and genitals. He could not get hard for her, which made her mad. She would ask him why, but he could not answer because she had him gagged. I was afraid that he would choke he was in such terror.
She called his balls worthless and said that he had no use for them. He was such a wimp that he didn’t need them anymore. He cried and screamed from behind the gag, pleading with her. She never even considered mercy. My Mistress had tight rubber bands wound around his balls, she said that they castrated lambs and cattle this way when they didn’t want them to pass on their genes. She left him tied. She just walked away and left him there for a week. He was fed and allowed to do his body functions but other than that, he even slept standing with his balls growing worse and worse by the hour. They finally grew black and I guess they fell off. He was let down after the week and I think he still had them then, but it was as if they didn’t pain him anymore.
The second time I saw her do this, she cut a small hole into a man’s sack about 1 inch long, then she had the sub revived because he passed out while she cut him. She popped them out, cut the tubes and poured alcohol over the cut. Then she placed stitches in his sac and let him fall to the floor. He was dragged out and placed into his sleeping area. That was all I know of him.
The only other time I saw her destroy a man’s balls, she stomped on them with heavy boots. I am guessing she popped them. I do no know if she ever took those out, but I do know she kept marbles to place in their sacs to keep their shape. I do not know of any other things she did.”
The Beautiful Mistress looked at me gravely and then nodded. I was allowed to return to my room where a pretty woman waited for me. I was stripped and oddly enough I was embarrassed to be seen that way. The robe gave me some dignity and I hated to see it taken away. I was given a massage with fragrant oils and the woman even stimulated me sexually. She even finger fucked my ass. I did not cum, because no one had given me permission to, but I did like the attention immensely.
A tray was brought in and I ate and then went to sleep. I woke the next morning to birds singing outside my window. I got up and padded over to the drapes and drew them aside. Out side on a little tree there were what looked to be hundreds of birds. They were all talking and chirping to each other. At my Mistress’ home, when I went out to get wood, I loved the birds. They were always not far away and I saved a bit of my food each night to give to them. They would flock around me and eat quickly so I could be on my way with the wood. Once I was caught feeding them.
Mistress had me tied to the woodpile with seeds stuck to me with honey. The bugs came, the birds however didn’t. They would land on the wood next to me and sing. After three days the Mistress had me brought in and she was furious because they didn’t peck me to shreds. I was thrown downstairs for a bit then started working again. I always fed the birds after that and no one ever said anything.
The door opened and the Beautiful Mistress came in. In her hand she held several thin long needles. Each had a small round bead on one end. She placed them on the desk and sat down. My breakfast tray was brought in, but at the sight of those needles, I had lost my appetite.
“Tell me what did she use these for?”
“My Mistress pierced people with them. She would pass short ones like those through the balls and cocks of men or behind the nipples of women. Then she would heat the end till it glowed and pull them back out.” I covered my ears, trying to block the screams that had echoed through my head.
“She would use them on the lips of the vaginas of the women or through their clits. I watched once as she took long ones and placed 100 of them in and through a breast of a sub. A clamp held the woman’s breast. I can still hear her screams.
Another time she had a man brought to her and she made a pin cushion of his balls. He could not move with out searing pain.” I sat there rocking on the bed. The Beautiful Mistress nodded and left my room. I sat still remembering the pain those poor men and women must have been in.
My happy mood of the morning had dissipated like the morning’s fog. I picked at my breakfast and wished there could be a way that I could go back to the happiness I felt. I donned my robe wiggled my fingers through my hair and left my room. I found a man dusting and asked if it would be ok if I went outside. He looked at me and bowed low.
“You are an honored guest, there is no part of this house that is off limits to you. Please indulge yourself.” I thanked him and almost ran outside. The morning had not yet burned off its fog and the birds were in abundance. I found a small bench and curled up on it to listen to them. Once I was still they came back, thrilling me with their sounds. I looked around the garden and saw an old gnarled tree. I fell to staring at the tree and could see one like it in the garden of my Mistress.
She once had a woman hung out there. The lady was suspended from her neck in such a way that she wouldn’t suffocate and left there to hang. Her toes were only inches off the ground. Her hands were bound behind her back and her feet were as well. The Mistress left her out there during a rainstorm. The woman had burned the Mistress’ food and had been burned as well. Her skin had been roasted pink. There were big welts along her back as well. I had heard she had been whipped after she was burnt. I could not imagine the pain that would cause. She was left out in the storm and brought in the next morning and thrown in the pit. I heard she was never quite the same afterwards. She didn’t speak and didn’t cry out even at the worst beatings.
The garden seemed dark and scary, despite the rising sun. I went back inside and was lead off to another bath. I lay back in the tub, enjoying the feel of the water. There was a different scent in the water today. It smelled spicier than before. It smelled of incense. I was very pleased with the way the water coated my body and hid all of my scars except the ones on my face. I felt like I wanted to stay in the water forever. The first man I had ever seen there, came in during my bath and laid out shaving equipment for me to shave with if I cared to. He bowed low next to the equipment. He was tucked up next to them, resting his chest on his knees and his face down.
I got out of the tub, and walked over to him. He was dressed in lightweight cotton pants and matching shirt. I raised him up and sat him on the bed. He looked up at me, his eyes wide. I slowly knelt in front of him and undid the tie to his pants. When I reached inside and freed his cock and balls he sighed. I looked at his cock, and ran my hand up and down it. I slowly ran my thumb over his tip watching his eyes as he felt the sensation. He swallowed and gripped my arm tightly.
Slowly I leaned forward and took him in my mouth. I ran my lips over the soft tip. Slowly I slid him into my mouth. The whole time while sucking him into my mouth, I swirled my tongue around his tip. He moaned and gripped my short hair. I moved my mouth up and down on his shaft and he gripped me tighter. I stroked his balls noticing that they were tight against his body and slid a finger back to that spot behind them and rubbed. He did not last long before he shot down my throat, filling my mouth with his cum. I relished the taste; it had been too long since I had touched another person in this way.
The last time was when the mistress had lined up all the watchers. She had forced me to go down the line, cleaning their balls, asses, and cocks and sucking them off. Or if they were women, cleaning their pussies and asses and bringing them to orgasm as well. While I worked on them, she absently swung at me with a switch. She was reading and had me kneeling in front of her and working on the watchers. When I slowed or did not do a good enough job, she would lash me a few times with the switch. I would have to refrain from biting down in my pain. I had done that once and hurt a man fairly seriously.
I noticed the man had left and again I was left to my own devices. I went in search of the Beautiful Mistress to ask her what my fate was to be. I finally found her behind a huge desk, piled high with paperwork and she had tiny, thin, gold rimmed glasses perched on her pretty nose. She looked up when I entered the room and watched as I walked over to her.
“Mistress, may I have a few minutes of your time?” A few days before I would have never opened my mouth to her unless I had been addressed. She nodded her consent, took the pretty glasses off of her face, rubbed her eyes and smiled at me.
“Mistress I was wondering what is to happen to me and the others now?” She looked at me, her face frowning ever so slightly. I shuddered to think that my question had made her angry, after all I remember what she had done to the watcher.
“The others are being taken into homes to serve until such time that they can take control of their lives or until they die. They will be favored pets to be pampered and cared for, despite their reactions. We are hoping with time that they will come out of their shells as you have and be able to live again as they should be. We don’t know if they will though, some of them have suffered more than their minds could handle. As for you my friend, you are to stay here as a guest.” She searched my face for a long time, staring into my eyes and studying me.
“Do you remember much of your life before you went under contract?”
I nodded, I had been matched with another submissive and together we had produced a child. I however had not been happy and felt I needed more in the way of discipline and so had taken myself off to my Master to be accepted under contract. It had been 12 years since I had seen anyone associated with my former life.
“Why Mistress?” She stood and paced, walking around the room with anger in her step.
“Look at me, don’t you see what I see when I look into your face? I am your daughter; I came looking for you when we didn’t hear from you. If the truth were to be told, this is your home, I have held it for you for the years that we have tried to find away to get you out of the situation you were in.”
I watched her pace and shook my head. I couldn’t understand how my little girl could have grown up to be such a woman. It didn’t seem possible. She came over and took my hands,
“Please, don’t you see it? Can’t you see your eyes in mine? Can’t you see both of you in me?” Slowly I lifted my hands up to either side of her face and stroked it. I shook my head as I studied her closely. I slowly let my hands drift down her shoulders to her hands. The door to the office opened slowly and I looked into the eyes that had haunted my dreams for so long. I looked from them to my daughter and back again. Slowly I held out my hand and held my family in my arms, close to my heart. My eyes welled with tears as I whispered
“Thank you God!”
This story is taken from the missing site:
Special thanks to: Jennistoy
The following story is for readers of legal age or readers who have interests which lie in the direction of BDSM. If you have comments or suggestions, feel free to E-mail me at Jennistoy@hotmail.com. I do try to answer any and all that I get.