Sunday, May 29, 2016

Fiction: fs01 - Part 5

This continues a few days after Part IV.

I apologize for the tense switching in beginning of this part.  "Catching up" is just a lot easier if I don't adhere as strictly to the grammatical style.


Theresa sits on the couch reading.  I stand at attention ready to meet her needs.  Theresa is my usual caregiver when Mistress is gone.  I spent the last few days with Lisa.  It revitalized me.  It was Mistress's gift to me.  Theresa has kept me in the satin lining uniform for two days, except today, it's back to the punishment lining.  Today is a big day.  Today is the day I'm on loan to Miss Dominique.

Theresa is familiar to me.  She has known us as a D/s couple since we got together.  She's one of Mistress's oldest friends.  Theresa isn't one for relationships.  She gives the impression of being a very complete woman without many needs.  Mistress has told me that Theresa doesn't need the companionship, that's she's comfortable in her own skin.  When she's horny, she has a number of boy toys that that will jump when called upon.

Days with Theresa are like how Mistress and I used to be, before Kimmy.  And no romance.  I act toward her with the same rules that I had before Kimmy.  Theresa calls me fur sissy too.  When she heard it from Lisa it made her laugh.

"It's time, fur sissy.  Start the car and fetch my coat."
"Yes, Miss Theresa."  I do as instructed.

Theresa's winter apparel is very drab compared to Mistress's.  She simply takes the coat from me.  There are no rituals between us.   Theresa sits me in the back seat and we drive to the edge of town in the hills.  We arrive at a gate and after a brief pause, the gate opens.  Dominique's home is very large and falls on a very large plot of land.  It's mostly open fields with a scattering of trees.

Theresa's car maneuvers through the windy drive contrasting against the snowy landscape.  We arrive at the house.  I exit the vehicle and open Theresa's door for her.  At the house we are greeted by a sissy maid.  He's wearing the same maid uniform I am.  He doesn't speak, responding with gestures and nods.  He reminds me of me.  The maid leads us through the house and soon we are greeted by Dominique.  She's dressed in a long robe, very similar to Mistress's.

"Hello, Theresa, it's been a long time."
"Hello, Dom, it's good to see you."
"Do you plan on sticking around?"
"Sure, I have nowhere I need to be today.  I'd like to just relax."
"I'm sure this will be perfect for you then.  Sammy, please escort Miss Theresa to the rec room.  You and Gordon are to wait on her as you would me.  Feed her if she's hungry.  Offer her any of the household amenities."  She claps.  Sammy snaps to attention, carefully guiding Theresa out of the room.  The door closes.  She wastes no time.

"Slave, kneel!" she barks.
I comply.  She opens her robe and lets it fall off of her shoulders.  My sex twitches against the tube.  It's like she stole a page out of Mistress's fantasy book.  A black leather corset, opera gloves, knee high boots, all trimmed in fur.  Fishnet stockings and garters.  She picks up a black fur headband and places it on her head.  I notice the gold talon on her right index finger.
"The rules:  Look at me at all times.  Do not speak.  Obey every order.  Do you understand?"
I nod.
"Good boy.  For the next 12 hours you are mine.  Turn around, hands behind your back."
I feel a lock secure my wrists together.  A tugging at my leg.  A couple of clicks.  A 6" chain between the ankles. She puts her arms on my shoulders and twists me around.  A leash locks to my collar ring.
I have a present for you."  Her grin is evil.
"I couldn't help but notice how soft your nipples were at the shop.  I think they could use some toughening up."

The first clamp bites into my flesh.  I squeak.  She twists the dial.  I feel it press, tighter, tighter.  My eyes tear up.  Tighter and tighter.  I open my mouth.  The teeth dig into my tender flesh.  Tighter, tighter.  I scream.  She smirks and locks it in place.  I can't even think.  The pain spins my head around.  My eyes shut tight.  She slaps my cheek.
"Look at me!"

They open again.  Her eyes are on fire.  Her lips part into a wicked smile.  The other clamp digs in.  I mumble nothings.  Tighter, tighter.  Tighter.  She keeps going.  I shriek.  She presses her thighs together.  This turns her on.  She locks it.

She clasps my chin firmly in her left hand, holding us eye to eye.  The talon pokes my cheek.  She slowly drags it down.

"I told you, little one, I wanted to hear you scream."  She tugs the leash firmly.  I shuffle to keep up, the chain is too short.  There's a door at the edge of the room.  Stairs leading down.  At the bottom we encounter a barred metal gate.  She turns the key and it opens.  The dungeon is huge.  It looks and feels like something medieval.  Torches supply the light.  Stone and mortar.  Chains and shackles bolted directly into the walls.  Benches, horses, cages, devices of every type.  She leads me over to a pillory.  It's large and wooden with attached leg stocks.  She unlocks my wrists and ankles.  I step into the spaces.  She closes it, securing the locks on the device.  She stays behind me out of my line of sight.

"I've been starving for this, little one.  Don't worry, I remember the rules.  No lips, no tongue, no penetration, no marks.  I had to scour some resources for this one.  It's not what I had hoped, but it'll have to do."  She walks around me, boots clacking and stops in front of me.

"Look at me."  Our eyes meet.  I'm trembling.  I've never been afraid like this before.
"Do you know what pure evil looks like, little one?"  She grabs my face and leans in, separated by less than an inch.  My eyebrows furl.  I can't keep my eyes from twitching.  My breath heaves.  I can feel my heart racing.  I clench my teeth.  She grins wide and far.  Her other hand moves down and starts to rub.
"Oh the fear, I adore it.   And you should be afraid little one."  She pushes my face from her hand.
"What I have here is rather simple."  She holds up an orange and nylons.  I watch her slide the orange into the nylon's foot.  She pulls it taut.  She lifts a wooden handle with an eyelet at the top.  I watch as she ties the nylon to the eyelet, leaving a little over a foot from the eyelet to the orange.
"You don't seem impressed.  A shame."

She walks out of view.  I hear the whirring of air.  SMASH.  I scream as the orange hits my buttocks.  The air whirs again.  SMASH.  I scream again and trash against the restraints.  She appears in front of me.  My eyes are tearing.
"Tears already, little one?  How do you ever expected to last another 11 and a half hours?  Keep screaming, I'm already so wet"  Her hand grabs the chain between the nipple clamps.
"I'm so tempted to just tear these off, but that would probably leave a mark."  She throws the chain down.  I yelp.
"I know a bit about you, little one.  I chose this outfit just for you... although it's one of my favorites." Dominique puffs out her chest, her breasts dance before my eyes.  They lie on cushions of fur.
"Do you want me?" she teases.

I shut my eyes.  She grabs my face, digging the talon into my cheek.
"Look at me!"  I open my eyes.  They twitch.
"Attractive, but not your Mistress?"  Her smile fades.  She reads me like a book.  I bruise her ego.  Sweat beads on my face.  The hairs on the back of my neck rise.  I offend her.  Terror.
"You're stronger than you look, little one.  At the shop I thought you might buckle.  I will enjoy breaking you."

Dominique moves from view.  Her boots clack on the stone floor.  I feel something press my skin.  She draws an X on my left butt cheek.  An X on the right.  An X on the back of my thigh.  An X on the side.  An X on the front.  An X on the inner thigh.  She works her way down.  An X on the inner calf.  An X on the outer calf.  The process repeats for the other leg.  She approaches the front.  I can smell the scent, it's a permanent marker.  An X on my bicep.  Tricep.  Outside of the arm.  Inside of the arm.  An X on the outside of my forearm.  An X on the inside.  She repeats with the other side.

"Cass would never forgive me if I injured you, little one, but I'll manage with what I have.  She counts aloud.  "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13.  Times two is 26.  11 hours, minus 2 hours for breaks and a finale.   That's about 20 minutes per spot?  Math was never my strong suit.  Now that I know I can't seduce you, you won't be needing those eyes anymore."

Dominique positions the blindfold and locks it in place.
"Do remember to scream, little one."

Smash.  The orange hits my rear.  I wail.  Smash.  Cries, tears.  Smash.  Mistress, I love you.  Smash.  I scream.  The pain foils any mental escape. I understand the X's.

Dominique's skill presents itself. She hits the X perfectly with every stroke.
Smash.  I scream again.  Swelling.  Throbbing.  Smash.  My mind blanks. All I know is pain.  Smash.  My body convulses under the blow.  My sounds become primal like a beaten animal.  Smash.  Howl.  Smash.  Groan.  Smash.  I shriek.  My head slump.  Smash.  My leg twitches.

Her boots clack.  Pressure against my cheeks forces my mouth open.  Moans and sobs follow.

"Don't you dare pass out on me, little one.  We're just getting started. "

My head bucks back.  I smell her sex.  The intensity of it, it's different than Mistress.  It's close to my nose.  I feel moisture on my face.  Her fingers smear the skin between my nose and mouth.  She marks me with her scent.  It becomes my reality.  She fills my nose, my head.  My sex strains.  A small cue.  An adjustment of the hips.  She notices.

"Have some more, little one."  She laughs and spreads a fresh coating of her juices on my face.

Smash.  My cry fills the room.  The bruise grow deep below the skin.  Smash.  My head moves in a spiral, both inside and out.  Smash.  I scream and shake.  The leg quivers.
Smash smash.  A double hit.  I moan from deep within my gut.  SMASH.  I wail.  SMASH.  The next blow lands compounding the agony.  She doesn't wait for my cries to end.  SMASH.  She hits harder, more deliberate.  The leg shakes between blows.  SMASH.  I scream and my hip slumps, buckling on itself.

The blows stop.  I hear her boots clack.  Buzzing, moaning.  She pants.  Her climax is violent.  She screams and laughs.  The buzzing stops.

Boot clacks.  Approaching, getting closer.  Her fingers refresh her scent below my nose.  They drip with her liquids.  I taste it.

"1 down, 23 to go."  Her voice resembles cuteness.  Another dose of her scent.

The boots clack behind me.  Smash.  The blows resume on the other cheek.  The X, every time.  I screech until I am hoarse.  Throat scratchy and burning.  Dominique maintains her pace for effect.  She blocks any attempt to escape to thoughts of Mistress with a fresh blow.  I lose count.  She stops only to refresh her scent.  It's all I know.  The smell of her sex and pain.

She continues her process until the hip buckles.  Finally a break.  Clacks.  Buzzing.  Moans.  Cries.  A fresh dose of her sex on my face.

I feel something press against my lips.
"Drink, little one, you'll need it."
A guzzle the contents of the cup vigorously.  Hydration.  My body craves it.

"Forgive me for doing this out of order, little one, but I can't send you home with marks on your neck from the stocks.  You'll understand in due time."

2 down, 22 to go.  I shriek as the blow strikes my forearm.  Pain shoots through my hand.  It shakes.  I feel moisture.  No follow up.  I tense.  The blindfold adds to the stress.

"It's a good thing Sammy bought a whole bag of oranges, little one."

She strikes harder and faster than before, probably to make up for "lost time."   I cry out with every blow.  My hand twitches and recoils.  The force increases.  My hand slumps.  She notices.

Clacks, buzzing, moans, cries.  Her cycle continues.  She refreshes her scent.

Symmetry.  Methodical.  She beats me until the limb falls limp, working every side, every angle.

The cycle continues.  My left arm dangles lifeless from my shoulder.  The right arm follows suit.

Pain, fear, the scent of her sex.  My world collapses.  My knowledge consists of those 3 things.  My relief is her orgasm, her scent, water, a broken orange, a ripped nylon.

In the moments of downtime I think of her.  My Mistress.  My Queen.  My Goddess.  I love her.

Dominique is perceptive.  She senses my resistance.  I endure without submitting to her will.  She's angry and a bit jealous.  She "communicates" her feelings clearly with the orange.  The X, every time.  Her skill is unparalleled.  Her endurance is marvelous.

She orgasms and refreshes her scent.  I hear the boots clack away.  I am alone.  My sobs keep me company in the otherwise silent room.  I can't lift my arms.

In the peace I dream of Mistress.  I hope she's having fun on her vacation.  I love her.

Clacks.  The cup against my lips.  I drink.  It pulls away.  I feel something solid.  A cracker finds its way into my mouth.

"Eat, little one.  You need your strength."

I chew slowly, savoring a new sensation.  It feels foreign, a break from this living hell.  Another cracker. I devour it.  Something new, chilled and moist.  A grape.  I soak in its delicious sweetness.  Several grapes follow.  The cup.  I drink again.  It leaves my lips.

"Don't forget why you're here, little one."

I tense.  I begin to cry.

Her voice changes.  Sultry, seductive.
"Delicious, delicious tears.  Are you trying to seduce me, little one?"

She laughs and slaps my cheek.  Clacks on the floor.  Smash.  I scream.  The orange finds its mark on the back of my thigh.  Her process continues.  Blow after blow.  The X, every time.  My leg shakes.  I cry out.  More force.  The shaking stops as my leg goes limp.

Clack.  Buzz.  Moan.  Cry.  Her scent.  Slow, routine, methodical, repetitious... yet never boring.

"I'll bet you're wondering when I'll get tired, little one.  The upside of having an indoor pool is being able to train until endurance isn't a problem.  I could go on for days."  She taunts me.  She deserves every ounce of her confidence.

The other leg.  The outer thigh.  The other leg.  The front thigh.  The other leg.  It feels like she's getting stronger.  She laughs a lot.  Borderline hysterics.  Clacks.  Buzz.  Moan.  She cries out.  Every time a fresh smear of her liquids under my nose.

Smash.  The orange strikes my inner thigh.  Pain jolts my being.  I shriek and howl.  My body convulses wildly.  Her laughs fill my ears. A fresh smear.

" I think I found the spot, little one.  I take it you've never been hit there before."

I'm sobbing after 1 blow.  Smash.  Screams.  Thrashing.  She savors this.  Another smear.

"A glorious reaction.  You have me dripping.  How many do you think this will take?"  Her voice almost sings the last line.  I've read about Dommes like her.  I didn't think they could possibly be real.  She proves me wrong.

Smash Smash.  A double.  The X, every time.  I writhe.  My throat hurts but yells anyways.  The pain jabs in a line from sternum to foot.  More liquid.

"I order you to speak, little one, tell me how you feel."
I sob.  She squeezes my face.  The talon taps my cheekbone.
"I want my Mistress..." The words are ugly and slurred, barely resembling speech.
"Is that the smartest answer to give me?"  She cackles with laughter.

SMASH.  My body spasms and cramps.  SMASH.  The air leaves my lungs.  My head spins.  Silence.

I wake with a gasp and a jolt.  Smelling salts.  My head rotates gathering its bearings.  Her fingers rub my face below my nose.  The scent remembers.

"Really, little one?  You passed out after 6.  I thought you'd be good for at least 12."

Smash.  My body shakes.  I feel her hands on my leg.  She squeezes the thigh muscles.  I howl and flinch.  Her fingers drag lightly along the skin.

SMASH, SMASH, SMASH.  The blows land faster than I can finish a scream and start another.  The primal howl grows louder with each blow.  The muscles twitch, shake, and the leg falls limp above the knee.  My torso sags under the weight.

Her boots clack away.  Buzzing.  The moans are replaced by laughter.  The laughter turns to hysterics.  She cries out.  Fresh scent.

"I'm so happy, little one.  Because you have 2 legs."

She pauses to replace the orange.  This woman is truly terrifying.

The process repeats on the other leg.  I remain conscious.  Barely.  Dominique seems almost crazy.  Drunk on power.  This is her lust.  My left foot cramps.

Clack.  Buzz.  Laugh.  Cries.  Scent.

"Only 4 more to go, little one."  Her voice carries a tone with an emotion I don't recognize.

The inner calf.  The X, every time.  My responses grow weaker.  Part exhaustion, part relief that it's less painful than the inner thigh.  My leg spasms violently.  My weight falls to the outer half of my foot.

Clack.  Buzz.  Laugh.  Cackles.  Scent.

A terrifying realization enters my mind.  This is her warm up.  Her aphrodisiac.  This isn't her sex, just the mood builder.  My suffering turns her on.

The other leg.  Soon my leg falls limp and my weight shifts to the outside of the foot.

Clack.  Buzz.  Laugh.  Scent.

The outer calf provides an exquisite new pain.  The bone.  The thin muscles strain to support the entire weight of my leg.  They are prime for pain.  Smash.  My head bucks back.  I cry out.  She grows impatient.  She's horny.

Smash Smash Smash Smash Smash Smash.  I shriek and my leg collapses.  The left half of my body dangles from my wrist and head trapped in the pillory.  It hurts.  I can hear her breathing.  It's not from exhaustion.

Clack.  Buzz.  Laugh.  Scent.

She wastes no time with the final X.  Smash Smash Smash Smash Smash Smash Smash Smash Smash.  My cries pulse with each impact.  My head and hand strain against the wood.  The right leg buckles.  I dangle helplessly.  Sobs.

I hear a click and feel the pressure leave my shins.  Dominique has unlocked the leg stock.  They crumple forward, putting additional strain on my head and wrists.  Another click and the sound off wood on wood.  Her breathing.  Panting, gasps.  Giggles.  The wood parts and I fall to the floor.  I try to move.  Everything hurts, everything throbs.  I can't lift my arms.  I can twitch the tips of my fingers.  I can twitch the tips of my toes.  I can move my neck and a little bit at the waist.  My arms and legs... useless... totally dead.  Pain.

"Stand up, little one," she laughs maniacally.

I give effort.  I can't even get onto my knees.  I sob.  I'm sorry, Mistress.  Her boots clack away.  The intercom.  "Sammy or Gordon, are you free?"

"This is Sammy, Mistress, Gordon is currently occupied."
"Sammy, come down here immediately, I need your assistance."
"Yes, Mistress, right away."

A few moments later I hear Dominique give commands in the distance.  A hand around my wrist.  And the other.  The grip is strong.  My arms stretch above my head.  They throb.  I slide across the stone floor on my back.  My arm pulls out to the side.  A shackle closes around it with a click.  The other arm.  Click.  My legs spread into a V.  Click.  Click.

A gag forces its way into my mouth and locks to my harness.  I feel pressure on the insides of my arms.  I cry against the gag.  The blindfold unlocks and falls away.  My eyes struggle to adjust to the light, blurred by tears.  Swollen, red.  Pain.

Dominique straddles my neck.  I see a large purple dildo extending in front of my face.  Her sex is close to me.  Her knees rest on cushions on either side of my head.  Her shins dig into my upper arms.  They throb but can't react.

"Oh, little one, your eyes are my favorite color.  Did you do that just for me?" she laughs.  "That was a very nice warm-up.  When you've been doing this as long as I have, it takes a little bit longer to get into the mood."

My head darts back and forth, scanning my surroundings.  The dildo moves with it.  She holds me in place with her hands.

"I'll bet you're wondering, little one.  'No penetration,' right?  Let me assure you that it only applies to me penetrating you.  Cass has seen my collection of strap-ons."

Mistress, I love you.  I feel like I'm cheating.  I feel like I'm betraying her.  I won't be able to serve Miss Theresa.  I don't want this.  I'm sorry.

Dominique rises, positions, and guides herself onto the gag-mounted dildo.  The scent is stronger, more intense.  She bobs up and down.  Every shift spikes pain in my arms.  Every cycle I cry out beneath the gag.  Tears fill my eyes.

Up and down, up and down.  She's laughing.  I lie still.  My mind separates.  My eyes go dead.

"That's the look, yes!" she shouts.  Up and down, up and down.  Faster.  Pain.  Faster.  Faster.  Up and down.  She bursts into a wild laugh.  Dominique ejaculates, her juices flow onto my face.  My eyes sting.

Up and down, up and down.  Faster.  More pain.  Faster.  Up and down, up and down.  She gasps, heaving for air, her laughs taunt me.  Pure joy.  She arches her back.  Her head tilts.  She cums again.  She doesn't stop.  Up and down, up and down.  My fingers twitch, the nerve pain shooting down my arms.  She increases pace.  Up and down. Faster, faster.  Her laughs become cackles.  She can't control herself.  I see her eyes.  They burn.  Her teeth clench.  Her motions, violent.  Another orgasm. She doesn't stop.  This must hurt her.  Faster, deeper, more violent.  She thrashes around on top of me.  Up and down.  Bouncing.  Her breasts jiggle upon the fur.

I am wrong.  This isn't the face of evil.  This is a face that embraces the primal urges and loves it.   She's terrifying.  Another spray of liquid.  She doesn't stop.  Again, again, again.  Up and down.  Her hands clench the fur on my earmuff harness.  She's pulling me into her.  Deeper, harder, faster.  Up and down.  She cums.  All I know is her.  All I smell is her.  All I feel is pain.

She slams my face into her crotch as she bobs.  Up and down.  Up and down.  Slam slam.  Her mouth opens.  Her upper body moves, irregular, unpredictable.  Up and down.  Slam.  Faster, deeper, harder, more.  Dominique lets out a loud growl from her gut.  Her body pulses.  Her juices flow, coating my face.  Squirt.  More.  Squirt.  Her head and shoulders bob against each other.  Her shoulders shake, her hands release my head.  Down, down, down, down, deep.  The growl becomes a cry.  Her breath stutters to exhale.  Her juices flow, spurt, spurt.  She slumps down on my face.

Dominique dismounts.  She walks away without a word, boots clacking.  I turn my head.  She retrieves a robe from the wall and slides it on.  I watch as she glides her hands down her body through the robe.  She glows.

The intercom.
"Sammy and Gordon, get Theresa ready to leave.  I'll need assistance down here from the both of you.  When you are done, draw me a bath."

I watch her leave through the gate.  I cry.  I hurt.  I can't move.  Sammy and Gordon soon enter.  They remove the gag and unlock the shackles.  They prop me up, my arm over each of their shoulders.  It hurts.  Everything hurts.  They lead me up the stairs and towards the door.

Dominique and Theresa meet us in the entryway.

"See, Theresa, no lips, no tongue, no penetration, and no marks, as promised."
"Why are they carrying him, Dom?"
"Oh, he can't walk.  His arms and legs will be rather useless for the next 2 or 3 days.  Cass comes back in 4 days, right?  He'll be fine by then."

My eyes stay closed.  Quietly, I weep.

"Gordon, Sammy, please place fs in the back seat of the car and then draw my bath."
They nod and move.

"So, Theresa, how were they?"
"Your boys have some very talented hands and tongues, Dom."  She smiles.  Dominique smiles back.
"Give my regards to Cass, Theresa, it was great seeing you again."

Gordon and Sammy drag me out to the car and slide me onto the back seat.  I weep.  They open the door for Theresa and she gets in.  She has her phone out.  It's on speaker phone.
"Hi, T, what's up?"
"We're leaving Dom's now, Cass.  Something's wrong."
"fs... he can't move.  Dom said his arms and legs would be useless for a few days.  There's no bruises."
"That Dom, I knew she'd find a way.  How is fs?"
"Not good.  He hasn't spoken, he's just slumped in the back seat crying.  Based upon how he smells, she must have worked him over pretty good."

"I will talk to him.  pet?  are you there?"
"Mistress..." I sob.
"How are you, pet?"
"Mistress, I love you.  I'm sorry.  I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." I break down.
"pet, everything will be okay."
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I love you."

"I was afraid it might be like this.  I'm sorry to put this burden on you, T, but can you initiate emergency protocol A?"
"No problem, Cass, you've been there for me a million times.  I'll take care of him.  I'll get a wheel chair delivered tomorrow."

"pet, are you there?"
"Mistress... I'm sorry..."
"pet, I need you to calm down.  You are relieved from all service protocols except speech until I return.  No chores, no nothing.  You just focus on getting better.  And pet, I love you and I miss you."
"I love you Mistress.  I'm so sorry."

"I'll see you in a few days, T.  Call me if you need anything.  You have my consent to do whatever you think is best for fs."
"Thanks, Cass, I'll keep in touch."



  1. Oh my! Fur, I must admit that this level of violence is so extreme that it has me wondering about its source. Is this simply fantasy, or is it grounded in experience? Even as a fantasy, it's somewhat perplexing in its level of sheer agony. Our hapless hero seems not at all turned on at becoming a quivering mass of pain. We can see that his mind turns to his Mistress to try to deflect the agony, yet she's the one who arranged for this to happen (although she's clearly surprised at the extent of his suffering) but I'm at a bit of a loss to see what you're getting at with this installment.

    1. Thank you, Lady Grey. This is fantasy but it was alluded to reality. Had I stayed with F things may have eventually gone this far or close to it. Parts 5 and 6 as a concept were designed to be 1 piece but after 3 went on as long as it did I felt the need to split it. This turned 6 into a similar feel to part 4 and made 5 seem more intense.

  2. After reading of Lisa's kindness and allowing fs extra priveleges, I was expecting punishment for a small slip up in keeping protocol. I found this part to be a little more extreme than I had expected deapite knowing that Dom loves to see her men scream and enjoys fear.

    1. Thank you, Miss Lily.

      I fully admit it was extreme and beyond my actual tastes. I wrote a bit of a follow up piece trying to explain the process I faced while writing this chapter, it may shed some light on things.

  3. I had high expectations for the planned visit to Dominique. I enjoyed reading of the nipple clamps. This part certainly appealed to the sadist in me. I also liked the rule that he must look at her, allowing her to read his pain. I felt that the hours of beating he took afterwards was a bit extreme. I would be upset if this happened to my sub. I feel that Misstress attempted to avoid this level of pain buy still left enough open to translation that Dom felt she could bend the rules according to the wording as she left him damaged.

  4. The math is indeed wrong. There are 30 X's on his body. Allowing a minute's rest between strokes that's 30 strokes per hour or 270 strokes for nine hours. The damage done to the muscles will cause internal bleeding so severe that fur will bleed to death over night as he lies in agony. There are numerous accounts on the web about the lethality of such brutal punishment.

    Dominique could have administered one session fully and then one or two strokes in each of the following periods. Lurid tales of stripes-to-come with the sound of the flogger striking something else would have a chilling effect on his mind and would have terrified him without causing the physical harm.

    I still have the rest of the story to read, but as of now, this part has to be redone.

    Other than that, it is a good tale with a lot of aches and pains and regrets. Bouncing around the blog archives to get the individual parts in proper chronological order is drawn out by pausing to read the filler episodes. All-in-all, thank you for taking the time and effort to compose and publish this piece.

    1. Thank you for writing fill. Both of our math ks wrong, it's actually 26 spots (I put her counting 24 in the writing), so it would be ~20 minutes.

      As for the realism and probable death, this is very far outside of what I've ever experienced so I didn't really put much thought into that aspect. Thank you for sharing that part.

      As a cheesy author's reply I will say that Dominique would have been aware of this and pulled her blows or paused enough with her masturbation and theatrics that he wouldn't have died :)

      As for navigating it, in my pages section on the upper left, I have a page entitled "Erotic Fiction." This should have every part in order and I keep it updated.

      Thanks for reading and taking the time to write.

    2. Ugh, sorry, I typed the original reply from my phone and it auto-corrected "Phil" to "fill." I did update it to 26 X's (from 24 as written, I forgot to count the butt) and ~20 minutes per.

      I have also updated the page link to "Erotic Fiction - fs01" to make it stand out more.

  5. Whoa! I was not expecting this, but that is what makes for a good story, no? :)

    I like this because it goes to show that things don't always go as planned, and in these times it's the aftercare that matters most.

    1. Thank you, Misty.

      Planned is a point of view right?

      I can fully admit this one was a bit too far but its events set up the next chapter.

      Take care.

  6. Your talent for evoking emotion is unparalleled, furcissy...reading this, I felt anger, lust, relief when he finally spoke to his Mistress. The level of violence is difficult for me to process. You are very talented. Your faithful reader, nora

    1. Thank you, Nora.

      I am glad that my writing is able to evoke emotion. This chapter is quite brutal. Dominique is sort of "the stuff of nightmares" and represents a type of sadism that isn't constrained by love.

      I appreciate the feedback.

      Take care.