Baronessa Franenstein

"Where's my tea, slut?"

At the sound of her voice, he quickly finished dunking the bag into and out of the cupful of boiled water, moved the cup to the little silver tray with the cream and sugar, lifted it carefully, and stared toward the living room. He had to do everything carefully; the chains that linked his wrists to his collar, and the hobble chain between his ankles, made concentration a necessity.

Moving slowly, he knelt by her easy chair, offering the tray to her in silence. He had no alternative to silence, for whenever he was not being fed, she kept him ball-gagged. She helped herself without looking at him. He remained as he was, grateful to be off his feet even if on his knees. She seldom allowed him to sit, and even after nearly a month, he had not grown used to the high heeled pumps she forced him to wear. The compression of the pumps' pointed toes upon his own, accentuated by the five inch heel height, sometimes reached the unendurable.

When she had finished, he rose and returned to the kitchen with the tray. He washed and dried the tea things carefully, replaced them in the cupboard, and with what remained of his capacity for sustained thought, reflected on the course of the month just past.

-----

It had not been his idea.

Two months after their first date, they were besotted with one another. He had never known a woman like her: intelligent, petite, stunningly beautiful, eager, and uninhibited. Their lives were perfectly matched. Both of them were in their mid-thirties, each once married and once divorced, with no children. Both of them were corporate officers and extremely well to do, perfectly at ease in one another's homes, business and social circles. Except when working, they were seldom apart.

It wasn't long before their pillow talk turned to their fantasies. When she admitted to a curiosity about being dominated and sexually enslaved, it took all his strength to prevent the electric thrill that went through him from showing on his face. They talked about it in tones that would have suited a discussion of the weather.

Presently, she asked him, "Do you have any vacation coming?"

He nodded, struggling to contain himself. "Yes, a month."

"Me too. Would you like to try it?"

He simulated sober reflection. "I'm not sure I have the kind of personality you'd want for that role. I'm not really a dominant type."

"C'mon." Her smile suggested an offer of forbidden fruit. "How will you know without trying it? It could be the biggest kick of your life."

He smiled. "I'm already having the biggest kick of my life." It was a ploy to persuade her to persuade him, which she did, and of course he finally agreed.

-----

She slipped into her role before he had readied himself for his. On the first morning of their synchronized month's vacations, he woke to find her kneeling at the bedside with a breakfast tray.

"Is my lord pleased?" Her manner was stagily humble.

"Yes, indeed." He rose to help himself to coffee from the tray she held, and caught his first glimpse of her costume. She wore a white lace teddy, a white satin garter belt, white lace stockings, and white pumps with amazingly high heels. It was enough to stop his breathing.

"I could get used to this," he murmured.

"As my lord commands." There was a curious edge on her words, as if, despite her overt attitude of submission, she were trying to tell him to get into character.

-----

She continued to wait on him like a Japanese geisha throughout the day. He tried to play the role of a stern and demanding taskmaster, but to his surprise, it didn't come off. He knew she would agree; the edge in her voice suggested dissatisfaction more clearly as time passed.

At the end of the day, when they would normally prepare for bed, she said, "My lord is displeased with me, isn't he?"

"Hm? No, of course not. The day has been wonderful."

"Surely my lord is jesting. I have been most unsatisfactory at several tasks, and would expect the correction that is proper for such negligence."

He looked at her in surprise. It took him a moment to realize that he was being prompted to play his part better. He was embarrassed.

"Uh, yes, of course. Well, go to the bedroom and kneel at the foot of the bed. I'll be right in." She moved immediately away.

When he entered, he saw her kneeling with her torso across the bed, her hands together behind her, her rump pushed into the air. It was obvious what she wanted him to do, so he set to it.

He was reluctant to spank her hard, and the result was halfhearted. She said nothing, but no one would have missed the disappointment in her eyes when he bade her to rise and present herself.

The sex that night was tepid, but of course she said nothing about that, either. He fell asleep nursing a pronounced sense of inadequacy.

-----

The next day was worse. He had unwittingly spoken the truth to her about his unfitness for the role. Late that evening, he apologized, stepping completely out of character and taking her by surprise.

Her eyes went wide. "Perhaps my lord would prefer another slave? A younger or prettier one?"

"No, no, it's not that! I'm sorry, I was right. I just don't have what it takes to do this properly for you. I know you must be disappointed, and I'd like to make it up to you, if I can. If you'll let me."

She looked into his eyes for a long moment, silent and expressionless. He could imagine her disappointment, but he could tell she was unwilling to surrender her role just yet. She went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of red wine, which she proffered to him. He sipped at it anxiously while waiting for her to speak.

"My lord is too generous. Perhaps in the morning, something will have occurred to him."

And try as he might to get her to talk to him further, they passed the rest of the evening in silence. There was no sex that night.

-----

He came to consciousness slowly the next morning. His head felt thick, his senses seemed fuzzy. His limbs all seemed unresponsive. It took him a while to realize that he'd been bound.

Apparently she had awakened before him, contrived to roll him onto his stomach, and had bound his hands behind him, apparently in some kind of leather mittens. He squirmed, unable to roll over, but was able to glimpse what she had done to his legs. His ankles were cuffed to a metal bar about three feet in length.

He began to call out for her. When she did not respond, he began to scream. His surprise was complete when he opened his mouth to scream again, and her hand darted into his field of vision. She quickly wedged a large rubber ball into his mouth, threaded onto a strap which she pulled tight and secured behind his head. He strained against the gag, but could not speak past it beyond a ridiculous squeak of distress.

She waited for him to calm down, which took a while. When he had quieted, she said, "I'm going to explain this to you only once, so listen carefully. You have shown yourself to be unworthy. You need discipline and training, and you will receive it. If you disobey my command, you will be corrected at once. I will decide when you have learned enough to be allowed your freedom again. Nod if you understand and accept this."

Realization growing in him, he nodded.

"Good. Now relax." He waited, trying not to squirm. Presently he felt something rounded and lubricated being rubbed against his anus. "Don't fight it or you'll be hurt." Whatever it was suddenly pressed hard against the sphincter, spread it wide, and slid deep into him. It was long and thick, but narrower at the base, designed to remain in place unless deliberately extracted. Involuntarily, he strained to expel it, but she held it in firmly until he ceased to struggle.

She rolled him over, exhibiting more strength than he had known she commanded, and placed a curious device around his genitals. It was contrived like a handcuff attached to a small leather muzzle. The muzzle went over his penis, and the handcuff snapped tightly shut behind his balls. He began to tumesce involuntarily. When his stiffening organ began to strain against the short, tight leather sheath, he grunted in pain. Soon his penis was completely limp again.

She stared down at him with command in her eyes. "I could lock your butt plug in as well, but for the moment I won't. If I find that you've expelled it without my permission, the punishment will be most severe. Do you understand?"

He nodded. "Good. Now I'm going to undo your bonds so that you can be dressed. If you resist or fail to obey me at any point, your chastity will not come off for the rest of the month." She unbound his ankles, and drew white nylon stockings over his legs, which she attached to a white satin garter belt much like the one she had worn. White high-heeled pumps and wide ankle cuffs followed, and between the cuffs she linked a hobble chain. She put a wide leather collar around his neck, locked it on behind him, and then unbound his hands, put leather cuffs around his wrists, and linked them with a chain that ran through a metal ring at the front of his collar. The wrist chain was short: he could not stretch either of his arms to its full extension without pulling his other wrist up against the collar ring.

Obviously, she had been preparing for this for a long time. But he found that he was willing to play along, perhaps even more willing than he had been to assume the opposite role, which would now be hers.

When she had finished outfitting him, she stood back and regarded her work with satisfaction, then snapped, "Get moving! The entire apartment needs cleaning, and I expect it to be done properly before noon." He struggled to his feet, nearly falling onto his face because of the high heels, and tottered off to comply.

-----

She drove him hard all day. Nothing pleased her. It was barely within his power to keep up with her stream of demands.

When at one point, he was unable to respond quickly to a command, she caught him by surprise with a stinging blow across the buttocks, administered with a paddle he had not noticed her carrying. After that, she would occasionally raise the paddle to draw his attention to it. It was all she needed to do to send him scurrying.

He was continually disoriented by two elements. After having watched women move smoothly and gracefully in high heels for many years, he was amazed at the effect they had on his ability to stand or move at all. Given the additional handicap of the hobble chain, it took the most deliberate and complete concentration merely to cross a room. She made no allowances.

But still worse was the long, thick rubber butt plug. It pressed against his prostate insistently all day, urging him to an erection, which always came up painfully short against the chastity device locked over his penis and balls. Only once during the day, for a bare ten minutes, did she remove the plug, to allow him to void himself. It was an indescribable relief. She watched him finish, and put the plug right back in immediately afterward.

At ten that evening, she commanded him to the bedroom and onto his stomach on the bed. He complied hastily, hoping that perhaps some reduction of his bondage was in order. He felt her withdraw the plug from his anus slowly, as if teasing him. When she had withdrawn it completely, he felt her hands spread his buttocks, obviously to allow her to inspect his anus.

"Not bad. You held that all day, but you don't appear very sore. I believe you might be ready."

A moment later, another rounded tip pressed against his anus. He offered no resistance. This object was shorter and slightly narrower than the plug had been, and felt cool inside him. When she had inserted it, she bade him to roll over, and removed his penis chastity. His organ began to swell almost immediately.

Keeping her eyes on his face, she reached between his legs and flicked a switch. A current of electricity from the device in his rectum made him arch convulsively, teeth closing tightly on the ball gag. His penis tumesced at once to the maximum; it felt enormous and granite hard. Try as he might, he could not fight it.

In a completely unhurried way, she removed her panties and mounted him as he spasmed. She rode him casually, as if completely at leisure, while her device compelled him to surge inside her. Yet, he could not come. It was perhaps twenty minutes later that she threw back her head and gasped out her orgasm, followed by a low, evil-sounding chuckle. When she had finished, she snapped off the power, and he went flaccid almost at once. He could do nothing but gasp for breath.

As with the butt plug, she withdrew the device slowly from his rectum. It was a silver, torpedo-shaped thing, from which there came a long cord. She inspected the business end critically.

"You didn't get quite empty this morning, did you? Well, I can fix that, and I think you'll want me to before we proceed. Back onto your stomach."

He complied and waited while she went down the hall. He heard the sound of water running, and a vessel being filled. When she returned and a nozzle entered his rectum, he was almost unsurprised. He heard a click, and felt the rush of warm water into his bowels. As the tide filled his colon, it caused it to press against his other abdominal organs. At first it was merely warm and comfortable, but soon it became distensive, and shortly thereafter approached pain. He had received enemas in childhood, but not like this. The water seemed to go on forever, a river in flood. It seemed forever before he heard the gurgling sound that announced that the bag had gone dry.

She pulled the nozzle out of his anus, wiped him dry, and reinserted the butt plug. "There. You hold that for a few minutes and I promise you'll be squeaky clean inside. Just lie there."

He could do nothing else. The volume of water in him was enough to geyser the plug across the room if he should try to rise or to roll over. Even with no more water rushing into him, the pressure in his bowels seemed to rise steadily. He began to fear.

When at last he felt he could hold it no longer, he felt her put a hand to his bottom to hold the plug in, and she urged him back onto his feet. She walked him carefully to the bathroom and poised him before the commode, holding the base of the plug all the while. Suddenly she jerked the plug out of his anus and pulled him down onto the toilet seat in a single motion. He fell onto the seat just as his bowels exploded.

Water gushed out of him in a torrent. He felt as if all his insides were going with it. The procedure went on for quite some time, while she watched him with no expression. All he could do was try to accommodate his body's need for relief.

When it was over, he sagged limply forward on the toilet seat, but she would not let him rest. She jerked him upright and back down the hall toward the bedroom, and he staggered as his high heels caught momentarily in the bathroom carpeting. It occurred to him then, even near delirium, how much smaller than him she was, how little muscle mass she sported. But it did not occur to him to fight her.

She urged him back onto his stomach on the bed, where he lay still except for the occasional gasp. While he lay there, straining to recover, she replaced the hobble chain he had worn all day by the solid metal bar in which he had awakened. What more could she do to him?

"I noticed that you didn't come before. I wouldn't want you to think I'm a heartless mistress."

She yanked his pelvis up a few inches from the bed and slid a wedge-shaped pillow under him. A moment later, there was a new pressure against his anus. When it opened him, the width of it nearly split him in two. She forced it into him relentlessly.

She rode him back and forth at her leisure, one hand guiding the dildo as she thrust and withdrew, the other holding and manipulating his penis. He was being stretched taut between infinitely separated poles of pleasure and pain, each in its purest form. She narrated his humiliation for him, and told him what she had learned: that anal rape was a tried and true technique for breaking down a man's self-regard and resistance to command. She knew what she was doing. She was tearing him apart, the better to rebuild him to her preferred specifications.

There came a moment when his mentality seemed to dissolve. The opposed sensations had rendered him mindless without relieving him of consciousness. He came in a giant spurt that seemed to last for an hour. Her hand flexed and stroked his penis, meticulously extracting the last of his seed.

When all was done, he could not move. There was not a muscle in his body that he could tense. Nor could he frame a coherent thought. She had broken him.

She wiped and carefully lubricated his anus with a cool, analgesic cream, regarded him a moment, and said in a bookkeeper's voice, "Now you look sore."

His last sensation before passing out was of her sliding the butt plug back into place.

-----

That was only the beginning. Her exactions grew more intense. Each day was a new set of labors; each night was a new set of humiliations. Yet he never entertained the thought of resisting her, or of trying to overthrow her rule. Indeed, he hardly thought at all; he merely responded to her whims. She had gauged him, and herself, to a nicety. They had found their proper roles.

The month passed fluidly. He ceased to imagine that it would ever change until, three days before the end of their vacation, she reminded him of precisely that, and mocked him with it. She had discovered what he was really made of, and all he was good for. Yet in three days' time, she would release him back to his high-rise office and his business dealings, with the memory of his subjugation burned into him forever. Would he be able to bear it?

Jarred into sudden recollection of his former existence, he was gnawed by dread. Could he bear it? Indeed, what would be more difficult? Facing his colleagues, competitors, and opposite numbers with the fire of this experience seared deeply into him, or leaving it behind him, a fever dream never to be repeated or recounted? He could not decide.

He tried not to think about it, until the evening before his release arrived.

-----

She used him savagely that night, as if to emphasize that this would be the last night of its kind. He submitted completely, not from restraint but from conditioning acquired over the preceding weeks. He tried not to think about the morning.

If he had not resisted the very framing of the thought, he might have realized that he was in mortal fear. He did not know what he had become. Worse, he did not know what he wanted to be.

When she ceased to torment him and rolled over to sleep, he cried, partly from pain, and partly from the sense of impending loss. Little sound escaped the gag which he had worn for so long, and she did not waken.

-----

Morning came with a blare from the clock-radio. He snapped awake as he had done for a month, and realized that he was still bound and gagged. She was standing over him, dressed for the office and wearing a small, enigmatic smile.

"You expected to be freed today, didn't you? Of course. There's a normal world out there, that you still think you have a part in. You want to go back to it, don't you? To try to recapture what it means to be a man."

The smile became wider, the essence of pure evil. "I don't think so. I think I prefer it this way. I'll submit a letter of resignation for you. We can get by nicely on my salary. Especially since we don't need to pay a housekeeper any more."

She looked down at him, wearing that merry, evil smile, for perhaps a minute as the emotions poured through him.

She was right. He was human filth, fit only to serve her. She would look after him in the exact measure of his negligible worth. All he could ask was to be of some use to her. The whole of his former life had been cloven from him, and he was free of it. He could grovel before her, and beg mutely to serve her with his body, unfettered by his past. Though he could still recall bits of it, his past had become insubstantial to his memory. It was as if it were only a story, told to him unconvincingly by someone who had been unable to get his full attention.