Confess At Your Peril

Dec 23, 2013

It is always a fun day for me when a slave confesses that his efforts to please me have slipped and he is in need of serious retraining to bring his standards of servitude up to my required level. You may feel that the fact that he has been honest enough to admit his shortcomings might count in his favour and earn him slightly less harsh treatment than would otherwise be the case? That would only be fair, wouldn’t it? How wrong can you be! I am not interested in excuses or whinging reasons why he is not devoting his every waking moment to my pleasure… I am interested only in results. Whether a slave volunteers himself for new training, or whether I decide that more work is needed, the end result is the same: hours of torment until I am satisfied that the wretch’s training schedule is back on track.

This was the case today when I suddenly realised that one of my regular owned slaves was getting a little bit too big for his rubber boots. There was a real danger that the fear, terror and respect I can instill in his mind with just one glance or one quick reminder that I know all of his ultimate fears, was not quite having the effect of days gone by. Now, as all of my regular slaves will know, I am not a ‘crawl on the floor and grovel, you worm!’ sort of Mistress. My approach is more subtle than that and often sessions can be firm but fair and involve a lot of laughter as well as the required level of pain, distress and humiliation. But clearly I needed to take my owned slave back towards his limits to stop this unfortunate slide into anarchy in the dungeon. The answer was to get him suspended in my famous, face-down ‘Superman’ flying position in the suspension room in order that I could stretch and separate his balls to instill some much needed discipline.

To really ram home the lesson –along with ramming home the large electric butt plug into his rear – I fitted him with video specs so that I could show him on camera exactly how seriously his bollocks were being mistreated. I find it concentrates a slave’s mind wonderfully when they can take a close look at their own tied genitalia and watch their mistress’s hands creeping inexorably closer to the dial on the electrics box which can bring them so much pain and pleasure. It also opens up the possibility of the occasional reward if the camera lens happens to point from time to time towards Mistress’s lingerie-clad body. Oh Dear… is that a slight wardrobe malfunction with my panties that his making his cock twitch so much?

The most intense part of the lesson was yet to come, however. Strapping my slave down onto the medical bench I fitted not only the electric milking tube to his cock, but also electrified pads to his abdomen and balls. An extra touch was to add the milking machine’s electrified suction bra which not only sucks away on his nipples but gives regular jolts of current to ensure there is no rest for the wicked in my medical clinic.  As a finale I brought in a little real fear with some deep breath control techniques that gradually induce more and more panic in this vulnerable slave. I have a particularly humiliating safeword for this owned slave and he knows that his only way of getting the air he requires is to shout it out time and time again.  He doesn’t know it yet but that part of the game still has a way to go…. The only issue is not IF I will make him cry for his mummy again… but WHEN!

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