Chapter 6
I am naked and shivering with fear as she binds me on to the prayer bench that will hold me in a hands and knees position, my ass up in the air for the discipline that is to come. I can't help but notice that she is binding me extremely tightly, and in a great many places, obviously to preclude any chance of escape or even too much movement. I understand that she is doing this because the discipline will be severe.
Her binding done, a large ball gag is inserted between my teeth, and a gas mask is placed over my head. I am disciplined like this generally once per week, we both feel that it's important for me to be disciplined as it serves as a concrete reminder of who is in charge. Likewise we feel that these discipline sessions are important for her, important because harsh abuse of my body in such a cold and clinical ways brings her power over me to the forefront of her mind.
I must admit though that despite my raging fear of the discipline ahead, I always do enjoy the binding process, for she does it in the nude. Generally wearing nothing but a pair of stiletto heels or thigh high boots. She says that she does this so that I can remember exactly who and what I am being beaten by. By her, by a woman. That I am a man so dominated that I accept all the abuse she can deliver. That I must submit to her, that I must submit to any and all other women she chooses.
All her preparations complete, my beatings begin.
She possesses so many instruments, I seem never able to tell which she is using at any given time, but I do know that my brutalized ass will experience many of them in each of these discipline sessions. Leather belts, rattan canes, floggers, wooden paddles, metal paddles, and leather straps. I'm sure that I forget many of the beating implements she possesses and uses, but what does it matter? Pain is her goal and pain she shall create. Gagged and hooded I'll remain so that she does not hear or see the full extent of my suffering ensuring that she will not begin feeling sorry for me, ensuring that I understand my cries will be in vain due to their muffled nature.
How many strikes I do not know, lighter at first, then building in intensity. Beating me until she tires, beating me until she decides to take a break, beating me until she decides that I've had enough for the moment.
She places her head near mine, speaks to me, her words muffled by the mask yet still clear to me. "Suffer you little bitch, suffer for me. I hope it hurts, I hope you understand just how much more I could make it hurt. You are my pathetic little bitch, a little faggot for me to control, to hurt, to punish."
She runs her fingers back and forth over my ass, then stands up to begin again. A new implement, different pain, yet pain all the same. Again I must endure until she decides to break, until she decides that it has been enough.
"Oh how I laugh at you. A joke of a man. Crawling around, getting beaten by a selfish bitch who runs off and cums with any man who turns her head. You are lucky I love having you serve me so, or I'd send you off where surely you would be lost without someone to control ever aspect of your life." She says to me.
Again my beaten ass is massaged. "Your getting warmed up now, a nice shade of pink. It's going to be bright red when I'm done, black and blue tomorrow. I hope the marks I leave on your ass last a week!" She says before beginning my beating once again.
Is it a strap, a flogger, a belt? I can't know, my mind is lost, lost in the sensation she is delivering, lost in the pain she demands I process. After what certainly seems an eternity she stops again.
"Such a poor little baby, your ass is on fire! I imagine you are crying under that mask, I imagine you are hopeful that I'll feel sorry for you. Ha! You need to understand that I just don't give a shit. I don't care how badly it hurts; I don't care how much you suffer. All I care about is beating you and I'm going to beat you until I decide that I've had enough fun. Suffer little man, suffer for the bitch who owns you." She says.
A paddle, a huge wooden paddle. I'm almost certain of it as it collides with my ever more tender ass. How can I be sure though, so many sensations, so much pain flooding my mind, how can I be sure of anything other than the pain, other than the torture at her delicate hands.
"You are bruising nicely under your very red skin. I can see just where the bruises are going to develop tomorrow. I own your ass you little bitch. I own you. Look at the bruises I leave tomorrow, look at them the next day. Look, and remember who owns you, remember what an insignificant little thing you are compared to me."
I feel her begin again, beyond thought, beyond care, all I can know is the pain she is delivering, the brutality she is using upon my body. What is she using, I can't know, I can't care, how long will she use it, I can't know, I can't care, pain is my world, my only thought.
"I own you. You are nothing but property. Can you imagine what that means? You are nothing but a thing, a thing that exists to serve me. No different from my favorite chair. I use you to provide me comfort and pleasure just as I use my chair. I can abuse you as I desire, just like my chair. If you stop pleasing me, providing me all the comfort I desire, I can kick your ass to the curb, throw you away, and replace you, just like I can do with my chair. You had better work hard to please me, work hard to make sure that nothing and no one better comes along because if someone else could ever do better you will be thrown away, just as I'd do with an old chair. Remember your place, remember my place boy." She says to me.
She begins again, lighter this time, continuing with light strokes until my mind begins to function again, until I am able to think again, until the pain she creates no longer fills every crevice of my mind.
"Ten more bitch. Get ready for them. The most vicious I can deliver." She says and before my anticipation and fear can begin to grow she delivers them in quick succession, and explosion of pain blasting out all possible thought or feeling from my mind or soul.
Thus ends the first phase of my discipline. She begins to stroke my body, my brutalized ass, to add her body to the bonds holding me in place. To envelop me in her love and her warmth. I am grateful beyond belief, loving of her beyond imagination. We remain like this for quite some time, her aftercare a form of afterglow much as boring vanilla people might experience following intercourse.
"I must say that to put up with all of this, to suffer so much you must be a very stupid little man. It's not your fault though, for surely all men are stupid. They can only think with their worthless little cocks, and once a woman knows how to control the cock she can control the man." She said.
