Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
Beneath me, Marcus’ muscular body contorted into a posture that defied comfort as my gloved fingers traced the angry welts that bloomed across his back like a dark, intricate map. He shuddered and a single gasp escaped his lips, but he didn’t dare speak. He knew the rules of my house…silence was his only currency, and he was currently bankrupt.
“Do you remember the terms, Marcus?” I whispered, amused by our exchange. Instead of waiting for him to answer, I tightened the leather strap I’d secured around his throat, watching the way his eyes widened with terror, then picked up the heavy-duty flogger. I didn’t hold back. The first strike landed with a sickening thwack that echoed off the walls, followed immediately by the wheezing sound of his breath leaving his body.
Stripping Him of His Ego, One Tear At a Time
Every swing was calculated, every impact designed to remind him that he didn’t own his skin, his breath, or his dignity. He was mine, entirely and without hesitation.
He began to weep. These were not soft, delicate tears. These were the desperate, ugly sobs of a man who’d just been stripped of his ego. I especially enjoyed the way his body jolted with each strike, and the way he arched his spine in a futile attempt to escape the inevitable transformation of his own ruin.
When I finally stopped, I stood over his broken form, while he lay shivering on the cold floor, with his spirit effectively pulverized. I leaned down, with my palm pressed firmly against his shoulder, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.
“Look at me,” I commanded. He looked up at me, sniffling. “Yes, Mistress,” he whispered, faintly. “Next time, Mistress, I will not cry. I promise.” I removed my hand from his shoulder and helped him up off of the floor. “Oh, I don’t care if you cry,” I said, nonchalantly. “It’s all part of the fun.”
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
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