I was pinned and couldn't move anything except my head, fingers, and toes. I was bent over on a saddle-like contraption--my ass bare and exposed. The faint movement in the dungeon caused just enough wind to remind me that my testes were out in the open. I was strapped securely with thick leather straps at the ankles, knees, torso, and wrist. I was going to be in pain soon. Why? Because I had failed my mistress.
I heard heels and knew it was her by her gait. She gently moved her fingers over my back. Her fingernails were always trimmed, so she never scratched me. She moved her hand closer to my butt and gave me a firm spank. I made the faintest sound.
"Are you ready, boy?"
"Yes, mistress."
She walked back and grabbed a tool. I couldn't see what she had picked because my head was facing the floor. I heard a swish; it was loud. She had picked a cane, and that cane was going to hurt. I knew it just by the sound of her testing it in the air. I could sense my heart rate rising. She walked back to me.
It was silence. I could see her in my mind's eye. She was looking at me with delight. Her sadism allowed her to enjoy my punishment more than anything else. She would forget how much she enjoyed my presence; she would forget all my service; she would forget all my value at this moment. Now, I was just a piece of meat to her.
I heard the swish for a fraction of a second before it hit me. I grunted softly. A second later, the pain came to me. It was nothing like I had ever experienced before. I couldn't scream, I couldn't yell, I couldn't cry. I barely managed to get a breath in before the second one struck. This time, however, I managed to scream. And I screamed with all my might. It felt like a jolt of high-voltage current was going through me continuously. The pain started at the butt, but somehow all my body hurt.
I heard another swish and screamed louder. But I was never struck. She had swung the cane in the air. As soon as I realized that the pain was reducing, I was struck again. My screams continued. I could sense my spirit breaking already. She placed the cane on my back. It was cold and fairly light. Who could have thought that such a simple instrument could bring tears to my eyes in three hits?
She walked up to the front. I could only see her legs. She had worn her heels, but no leather. She never liked leather. I was shaking in pain, and tears were freely dropping right out of my eyes. My posture didn't allow the tears to roll down the cheeks. She squatted and grabbed me by my hair and pulled me upwards to face her.
She had worn a beautiful floral sundress, and my eyes wandered to her cleavage. Even at this time, I couldn't stop myself from glancing at her beauty. I forced myself to look her in the eyes. That's when I saw how happy she was.
"Would you rather just look at my tits?"
"I'm sorry!" I exclaimed in panic. She had noticed my momentary glance. Her smile widened. My panic excited her; she had always enjoyed when her sub feared her. I feared that she may just increase my punishment due to this mistake.
"You have one minute," she said. I had one minute to convince her that I was truly sorry for my actions and that I would be better next time. This did not seem feasible.
"I'm sorry, mistress!" I began, "Please believe me, I was caught up with work. When I got back, I tried to do my chores as quickly as I could. I will do bett--" She cut me off by placing her finger on my mouth.
"You're saying that your work is more important than your service."
