I get dressed in my tan, gray, black and white camouflage pants, a black t-shirt and black boots. I put my hair up in a pony tail and pull it through my camouflage baseball cap.
I go out to the living room and see my slave sitting on the couch. As he sees me coming out of the room, he smiles widely at how I am dressed and knows that he is probably in for it. I glare at him and then walk behind the couch and grab him by the hair and pull his head back so that he is facing me.
I say, "Are you going to surrender willingly or do I have to take you with force?"
He struggles for the right answer and I say, "Time’s up." I reach down with my hands and cover his throat pushing very hard, choking him. He is wheezing air through his collapsed throat. I come around to the front of the couch and forcefully push my knee into his crotch and put all my weight down.
I grab his hair and push his head down on the couch, forcing his face into the cushion. I detach the rope from my belt and tie his hands up behind his back. I then pull his hands up to the middle of his back, pulling them up and away from his body so that he follows me to a standing position. I walk behind him pushing him along to the doorway of the bedroom.
There is a rope hanging from the eyebolts in the doorway. I drop his hands and grab the rope and put it around his neck. I begin to tighten it. I then shorten the length of the rope so that he is now on his tiptoes to accommodate for the slack I am taking up. He is able to breathe as long as he is on his toes, however, he tries to relax back down on his heels and realizes that he can’t breathe, so he again raises himself back onto his toes.
I put my face close to his and say, "Tell me where they’re hiding." He shrugs his shoulders. I slap him hard across the face and then punch him in the stomach. I again ask, "Where are they hiding?"
He manages to gag out, "Who?"
I pace back and forth in front of him and say, "You know who I’m talking about. Now tell me." He just looks at me.
I get the riding crop and begin whipping his thighs and calves. I yell, "You will tell me or I will beat you to death. You’re choice." He just stands there on his toes the best he can and takes the beating. I then go get the pink riding crop, which is a long, thin, straight, flimsy material and swing it in the air. He hears it whisk through the air. I smack it on the wall next to him and watch him flinch. I glare at him and say, "Tell me!"
He just stands there, so I start whipping his sides and back with the whip. With each blow I give, I watch him flinch from the initial sting, then hear him groan and move around the best he can in the noose from the pain that spreads through him seconds after the blow. I then step in front of him and begin unbuttoning his pants. I pull them down to his feet as he steps out of them, still remaining on his toes.
He can feel the aching in his calves from having to stand there like that for so long. I then lower his underwear and remove them also. I go behind him and lift his shirt, admiring the marks made from the crops.
As I feel the welts under my fingers, it gives me more incentive to keep the beating going. I swing the crop through the air and it whizzes past his ear. He flinches at the sound. I raise my arm and bring the crop over his ass. I wait to see that the pain is fully felt before landing the next blow. I continue with the crop over his ass, down the back of his thighs and calves.
I move around to the front of him, smacking the crop in my hand as I pace back and forth in front of him. I see that he can’t take the pain in his calves anymore and watch as he slowly lowers himself to his heels. I watch as the redness comes over his face. I smile.
When he can no longer stand it, he raises back to his toes and breathes in deeply, however now his legs are shaking from the soreness of his leg muscles. I then grab his balls in my hand and squeeze hard. He winces with the pain. I say, "Talk or it’s only going to get worse." He remains silent.
I then begin to pull on his sack and testicles stretching them down. He tenses up from the pain and shakes violently from the pain in his crotch and legs. I say, "Ok, you are going to be difficult. I can see this. That’s fine. Then you will be used and tortured till you talk or die. One or the other." I release the rope and he falls to his heels, sighing deeply. I remove the noose from around his neck and lead him to the middle of the room.
I get several strands of rope and begin tying his ankles together, then his knees, then his upper thighs. I untie his wrists and retie them in the rope in front of his body. I grab his hair and pull him down to the floor. I stomp on his stomach and kick him extremely hard in the side. I say, "I hate it when people don’t cooperate. It just really pisses me off. I don’t think you want to see me pissed off. Are you ready to tell me?" Again, no response.