Patience

Jul 13, 2013

There are days when even well-trained slaves seem determined to try my patience, despite knowing they are just asking for trouble with a capital ‘T.’ Such was the case yesterday when I instructed one regular sub to insert a suitably-sized electric butt plug, only to find he had chosen a mini-plug that hardly stretched his arsehole open. I’m sure you can understand how angry I was when I pulled the offending little object out of his rear and realised that he had barely been suffering at all. What is the point of my spending my valuable time on tormenting my slaves if they wilfully disobey my instructions in order to try to ease the suffering I would wish them to have? Clearly excessive retribution would have to be the order of the day.

The wretch was duly wrapped and tight and constrained in my favourite leather strait-jacket before being hoisted up into the air by my suspension room hoist. Once he was dangling at my correct working height, I could set about binding and separating his balls, fitting a parachute to weigh them down towards the floor and pumping up the electrics in a far bigger butt-plug that I had encouraged into place. Now normally I enjoy hearing my slaves suffering, but I knew this one was going to be making a considerable noise and so a pump-up gag was the next essential ingredient in my bondage mix. Adding a heavy posture collar and lacing it tight around his neck served the dual purpose of adding to his discomfort whilst also holding the gag firmly into his mouth. Sadistic and efficient.

Once all was in readiness, along with a magic wand vibrator taped to the end of his pathetic cock to ensure constant, but ultimately unsatisfying, teasing, I could just sit back and watch as he swung gently to and fro with every movement increasing the pain in his balls and the stimulation of his member. Just how I like it: maximum torment for my slave with minimum effort from me.

All too soon, however, it was time to move on to the main event and to start punishing the arsehole which he had tried to protect with his silly choice of a too-small toy. I had considered a simple impaling while he dangled from the hoist, but his earlier dumb insolence had been so serious that more drastic measures were required. Moment later I had him lying in my suspended sling with the biggest dildo attachment I could fit on my fucking machine poised and ready to strike. His whimpers as the rubber bung pushed deeper and deeper into his rear were music to my ears.

I normally find that a few minutes on the fucking machine at ‘normal’ speed is sufficient to loosen up even the tightest of back passages; but this slave had earned himself far more treatment than that. I busied myself tidying up some of the chaos of the day whilst the machine pumped incessantly away in his rear. Then I turned the machine up to full speed (I jokingly call it ‘ramming speed) and found a few more chores to keep me occupied while his cries of distress echoed around the halls of Hanwell Towers.

It was such fun that I could have gone on for hours; but it had been a heavy coffee-drinking day and I quickly found that a call of nature to empty my bladder was becoming a pressing issue. Now, obviously, I did not want to stop the fucking machine while I popped out to the loo so the only answer was to pee onto the dungeon floor. A handy pile of paper towels soaked up all my piss but left another problem. What to do with the wet mess of paper towels? The answer, as I am sure, you have guessed, was the press them onto my slave’s face was he lay helpless and continuously fucked in front of me. 

It was yet another stroke of productive genius. Two problems solved with one move. Somewhere to squeeze out the urine-soaked towels, and an instant game of breath control for my lucky sub; a sort of paper-based pissboarding that soon had him begging for forgiveness for his earlier sins. It only took another hour or so of his fear and suffering to convince me that he meant it when he promised never to choose a too-small plug again. The consequences should he slip from that resolve are too terrible to contemplate.

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