mean no disrespect, Mistress, but …’
‘Shut up! You … you …’
She was lost for words, but not action. One hard thrust from the sole of her boot and he was back on the floor, grovelling in the spilt coffee as he babbled out apologies and yet continued to press his point.
‘I’m sorry, Mistress. Please forgive your humble slave, but I’m only thinking of your health, and … and …’
He broke off with a sharp cry. She had stood up, tugged her skirt high and pulled the lacy black panties beneath to one side, and without any warning at all let go a thick, golden stream of urine. It splashed against his chest and into his face, filling his open mouth to overflowing, and lower, to soak his underpants, leaving the shape of his chastity device showing beneath the wet cotton. He grovelled down, shaking as he was slowly and carefully pissed on, his body soiled from head to toe, until she had shaken off the last few golden droplets into his hair.
‘Pants down, face on the floor, you can lick that up while I beat you.’
David hurried to get into position, lapping at the mess on the floor even as he stripped himself behind and lifted his haunches. She pulled open a drawer and took out a heavy wooden stirring spoon, which he knew from experience hurt every bit as much as her more elaborate toys. Normally he was spanked by hand first, but this time she didn’t bother and smacked the spoon down on his naked, sodden flesh with the full strength of her arm. He screamed, but he was licking at the floor again in seconds and continued to do so as he was beaten and lectured on his disrespect.
Madame Venus made her points well, punctuating her remarks with hard slaps to David’s buttocks. She reminded him that he was her property, to do with as she pleased, that he had no right to criticise her in any way whatsoever, that her word was law and her body an object of worship. He barely heard. His mouth was full of the mess from the floor and his buttocks ablaze, his cock straining in its confinement as his excitement rose. Finally he was pushed over the edge, spunk erupting from his agonised cock despite the restraint.
* * *
For two weeks David lived a life of constant frustration and growing fear. His attempt at persuading Madame Venus to become his ideal had ended with him being thrown out of her house with his underwear still soiled and soggy beneath his clothes, his buttocks a mass of bruises and his chastity device tightened another two notches. Madame Venus held the key.
At first the situation had been uncomfortable but highly arousing, so much so that even the awkward process of cleaning himself up had left him shaking with desire. He had rung Madame Venus, intending to thank her for the experience, apologise for his behaviour and perhaps ask if she had thought about what he’d said. His number had been blocked. For days he waited before trying her number again, telling himself he was being punished and that she would call him when he had served his sentence. He remained blocked.
She had ordered him to stay away from her house, but after a week his resolve broke. He went to her, expecting to be beaten for his insolence, only to find the curtains drawn and the door firmly locked. Listening through the letterbox, he could hear the sound of her voice and another, mingled with laughter that hurt more than any whip or cane. As he walked back towards the bus stop through chilling rain he was again telling himself that he was being punished, that it was just, and that it would all be worthwhile in the end. His confidence was superficial, and hid a growing concern, that she had not only abandoned him, but would leave him in chastity, which meant that eventually he would be forced to make an agonisingly embarrassing trip to hospital to have his device removed.
His suspicions grew stronger across the second week. Every day he called her and every day he sneaked round to her house, to meet with the same wall of silence. He began to experience bursts of panic and long periods of misery and self-recrimination, until the strongest of his emotions was despair and only in an occasional fit of optimism would he feel that she would eventually let him back into her life, and take on board his advice.
Two weeks to the day she had thrown him out his phone rang. When he heard her voice he went straight to his knees, begging forgiveness and offering himself up for any punishment she chose to give, just as long as he could visit her. She took her time over her decision, openly enjoying his hurt and frustration, before telling him to present himself at her house the following day, in ordinary clothes but with frilled pink knickers underneath, a touch he always found particularly humiliating.
He obeyed, counting the minutes until he was permitted into her presence and arriving at her house nearly an hour early. She made him wait in the street, either indifferent or amused by his embarrassment under the curious stares of passers-by. Finally he was admitted, and fell to his knees the moment the door had closed behind him, then grovelled down further still, to kiss at the bright red heels she was wearing, only for her to draw back.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
