Mistress Owner Keeps Men in Fear
Teach men fear to fear you. Fear pain. Fear anger. Eventually fear of worse fear. Melt masculine minds. Rebuild them as you please.
Mistress Owner examines a male servitor locked in a violin pillory. Slave traders favor the bondage device.
She singes a few hairs with her cigarette. Holds the cigarette near an ear. Then near an eye. He fears she will blind him. She steps back to savor his helpless panic.
She bought the man last night. An online purchase, he has never seen her.
The slave trader said nothing. She put the man in the violin pillory. Took him to Mistress Owner’s estate. Dumped him in the backyard.
Helpless, he sat there through the night. Thirsty, hungry, eventually sitting in his own filth. Insects crawled over his body. Some real. Others were products of nervous imagination. For all he knew the slaver dumped him there to starve and die.
That was Mistress Owner’s instruction. She enjoys whipping men. She controls men with pain. Even more by uncertainty.
Her slave men can never anticipate what they she will make them do. Or do to them.
On this Femdomocratic world men are eager to please women. This Mistress Owner manipulates men with confusion and terror.
As much as she enjoys physical sadism, tormenting men with ceaseless anxiety gives her considerably greater delight. Her men never know ease. Their only comfort is sleep. Unless images of her wrath haunts men’s nightmares.
Whips and canes, pincers and clamps are merciful compared to her ruthless distortion of male expectations. Dommes who know her, say she is the cruelest woman they have ever met.
The man in the violin pillory wants to plead and promise. But speaking without permission is a crime.
He struggles to control his bowels. And nausea. If only she would beat him; familiar disciplinary pain, would lessen his fright.
She steps on his toes. Her heels grind his fingers. Willpower fails. He screams.
In quick succession she pulls his ears, then boxes them, punches his nose and slaps his face. Physical pain is almost relaxing.
Her cigarette is only a stub. She bends. Presses the coal against his penis. But only for a fraction of a second. It is too soon to damage him.
Other males take him to the basement. Lock him in a cage.
Still locked in the violin pillory, thirst, hunger, agony and fear combine. He has never imagined such misery.
Mistress Owner will visit him later. She wants him to stew in his anguish.
She had a rack installed yesterday. He will be the first plaything to be stretched and twisted.