A Dom's Revenge

I slept little that night. Tossing and turning I went over the facts that I managed to get out of her. It seems that I had made a better go of life than she did when we were on our own. Now I could see why she had aged so quickly. Giving up a sure thing a safe marriage and a caring husband for a little pretty boy who took advantage of her and turned out to be a bait and switch in the fantasy and romance department. No doubt he had squandered her money away as well.

What had left me was a confident, pretty woman, and what had shown up on my doorstep tonight was a broken, ugly old lady. But broken may have its uses, I muttered to myself. I smiled. She didn't know the new me. This new me knew how to handle broken women, how to play them, how to enjoy my sadistic pleasures with them. She was coming back to me because I had things she needed, stability, a husband, food, money, a roof over her head. I got her, I had the winning hand. The question now was, did I really want her? Why not just cut her adrift? I pondered that all night long, was I really better off without her, had I been? I had to admit that some of the things I did, some of the sadistic tortures I had inflicted on pretty women looked for some edge play were really directed at her. If I just cut her loose, would this heartache ever heal? Would I really get over her? Wait, I haven't gotten over her? I realized that I hadn't. That was the deciding factor.

I turned over and began to plot my response to her offer of gracing me with her presence again. There would be changes to this relationship if the Bitch wanted to come back, tail between her legs. She would have to pay for what she did to me. Revenge, and I don't think she knew what was in store for her.

The next morning I got up and got ready for work. Finally I unlocked the door to the garage and called for her to come in. Before getting down to business, she tried to go to the bathroom, but I stopped her and had her ask me for permission to use the toilet before finally allowing her to relive herself.

I sat her down, she seemed hopeful as she read my face and had found that some of the rage was gone. Her face was puffy, fat, old, ugly, but there was my wife in there as well.

I let her know that I was not pleased with the reason why she had come crawling back to me. That financial stability and money played a larger part in her contacting me than her love for me. I was hurt, I said, that the real reason she called was her fear of homelessness, rather than a newfound love for me.

She struggled with that, quickly trying to say that it was her situation that forced her to take stock and realize that she truly loved me, deeply and always did. She again begged for forgiveness from me, of which I did not give her.

"My life has changed," I said, "since you've been gone. I'm not the same David you married. My tastes have changed now that I have experienced other lovers."

She squirmed in her chair. "They were all younger than you, and far prettier than you are." This hurt her. Good! I continued.

"I don't know if I can ever forgive you, I find it hard to even think of you by your name."

She nodded sadly. Dejected and loosing hope.

"However," I said, and her face perked up.

"I might be able to make you an offer that would allow you to stay in My House."

She smiled a little.

"Don't be too quick to smile," I said. "Your life here would not be anything like it used to be. You would not be free to do as you like, see who you like, communicate with who you like. You have no money, correct?"

She was a little concerned now, I quickly asked her again, more forcefully.

She nodded, "Yes," she whispered.

"No job? No prospects?"

Again she nodded, her shoulders dropping, the weight of her plight pulling her down.

"So what can you offer me to receive my protection?"

She looked up at that word, confused.

"Protection!" I repeated. "That is what you're looking for, safety, a home, food, a partner in some form..."

She nodded.

"So?" I asked, "What can you offer me? So far I see no reason to put myself out again, when you already have told me that it wasn't love that brought you back to my doorstep."

She started to cry. "I do love you." She protested. "I do..."

"Love," I said, "I something I don't know if I can have for ever again. You broke my heart, you shattered me, and you betrayed the trust that I had given you. I can't give that back to you now, I don't know if I ever will."

She was crying.

It was getting late and I had to go to work. I now offered her some thoughts so that she could answer me when I got home.

"Listen to me. I have to go to work now, and I don't feel comfortable with you staying in the house while I'm gone. You will have to leave."

She panicked. "Please," she said. "Please!"

I cut her off.

"I want to give you some more facts for you to answer my question. While you have been gone, I have realized that I am a dominant sadist."

Her mouth dropped, she didn't really understand what that as, but she hope I hadn't gotten religion.

"Bondage, Discipline, Submission, Dominance. I like to play with women as my submissives as my slaves, as my little toys. I whip them, eat them, tie them up, train them, control them, and fuck them."

She was speechless.

"I'm telling you this for two reasons, one, I will continue to do these things with others, regardless if I take you back or not, and two, because, and I'll make this really simple for a stupid slut bitch like you, who threw away the best thing in your life and now wish that you could have a do-over, I might, perhaps, be interesting in the one thing you do have to offer me..."

I left it at that, grabbed her by her arm and walked her out to her car. Locking up the house, I got in my car and rolled down the window. "Be back here with your answer when I get home. Don't be late or else."

She tried to ask me where she should go while I was at work.

"I don't fucking care, just stay off my property until tonight."

I paused, then added. "Maybe, it might be good to do a little research on what it is I'm interested in before formulating an answer. Bookstores have a wealth of information." With that I went to work.

Again work went slowly. My mind kept drifting towards her. Still shocked at her appearance, I wondered what was going through her mind. Was she at some bookstore looking through volumes on BDSM? Master slave? It would be a very interesting evening tonight. This morning I had successfully striped her down. I showed her that she had no other options. She now realized that if she really needed my protection, she would have to earn it, and she was now discovering what that would mean. Either she would refuse, or she would give in and give herself to me, either way, didn't matter for me. Truly, now seeing her, seeing what she had become, I was disgusted with her. This was my wife? I fucking well think not! I turned down many a skank that were better looking than her. Looking back, I realized that I had always been the better looking of the two. My idle, innocent flirting now didn't seem so innocent, my safety with other women because I was married, might not have been the reason other women flirted with me. Seeing me and then seeing her, they knew I deserved more, that I should have been giving my everything to them. Wasted time, I was now making up for it though. If she stayed, offered me what I wanted in exchange for my protection, she would pay dearly.

I prepared myself. I called my lawyer and had a few documents prepared, one was her signing away all rights to any property we both owned, another was power of attorney over her, essentially giving me all rights and decision over her.

I rolled up to my garage and sure enough she was there waiting for me at the front door. I let her in and led her to the sofa. I offered her no food, no drink. It looked like she hadn't eaten all day.

"Do you have an answer to my question as to what it is that you could possible offer me that I would want from you to allow me to consider protecting you?"

She took a breathe, eager that I got right to the point, it seemed that she had memorized the speech that followed.

"I did what you asked, I went to several bookstores today and read up on the subject. I must admit that it was very embarrassing when I asked the store clerks for books on the subject. Some of them laughed at me."

She continued.

"I tried to cover as much as possible, I take it that people in these relationships take on roles of Master and slave and one gives up power to the other."

I nodded.

"Pain and pleasure seem to follow suit with the "Master" giving some sort of pain to the slave that also is pleasurable. I don't understand that though, I have never experienced pain that was pleasing."

I urged her to continue.

"In truth, David, I have no choice. I need your protection and your trust. I do love you and I wish that I could get you to trust me again, but I realize that it's too soon for that to happen. I can only give you the one thing I have left to give David, myself. I realize that the type of person you are, you are probably looking for a slave, a maid, someone who you can order around, who will do what you say. If in this role I can prove to you my sincerity and that my intentions are true, I'm desperate to try."

I leaned back. "So do you understand what it is, that I'm asking?"

She swallowed. "You want me to be your slave. For me to give to you the only thing I have to give, myself, totally over to you."

I got up and paced, to her I seemed like a leopard pacing for my meal, "So, if I were to ask you to call me Master from now on...?"

"I would...Master." She said.

"And," I quickly added, "if I were to tell you that you now sleep on the floor at the foot of my bed..?"

She gulped, realizing that she would have no choice, "I would."

I looked at her with an arched eyebrow, prompting her. "...Master." She answered.

"And say you did something like forget to call me Master, what do you think would happen?"

Shaking she seemed to break down now.

"You..." she stuttered, "..you...would whip me..."

I waited.

"...Master."

I faced her now. "None of this means that I will love you bitch. That I will feel for you. I will protect you and you will be safe within My House. Everything else is subject to my decisions. You take this deal and you have a place to live, food in your belly, and no pimps or druggies taking you, but know this, they won't own your ass, but I will."

Her face was pale. Would she agree? Would she walk? I didn't really care if she walked now, but if she agreed...

She nodded. "I accept."

I paused. Victory!

"You accept, what?"

"I accept the terms, Master." She said.

I smiled. "Good."

She seemed relieved. The burden was gone, only to be replaced by another burden!

"In exchange for your protection, we have quite a few things to go over, rules, paperwork, punishment, and just general things you will need to know."

She nodded.

"Rules first," I said.

"First off, what ever I say goes, if I say the sky is green, you fucking say "Yes Master the sky is green" She nodded.

I sighed, "This nodding has got to stop. When I say something, answer me properly, with a little fucking respect, understand?"

She gulped, her hands fidgeted as my harsh language was something she wasn't used to hearing from me. "Yes, Master." She quickly added.

"Rule," I continued, "You are not to use any furniture unless I expressly allow it. You may ask to sit on a chair, eat from the table, heaven forbid because you won't get this privilege anytime soon, to use the television or phone, but it is always up to me to decide if you may be allowed to use it. Understand?"

She started to nod, stopped herself and said, "Yes, Master."

I tapped my foot, she just blinked at me.

"You really are a stupid cunt," I screamed. Pointing to the sofa I added, "What the fuck do you think you are doing?"

Her eyes lit up, "Oh," she said.

"Oh? Well get the hell off my sofa! You kneel on the floor from now on!"

She quickly knelt, adjusting herself. There was a moment of anger in her eyes. I just stared her down. "Just you adjust that attitude bitch!" I warned.

"Rule," I continued again. "Bathroom and food are the same as furniture, I will decide when you eat, drink, piss, shit and sleep. You of course may ask, but I decide to allow it!"

"Yes, Master." She said. This was turning out to be a bit more than she realized.

"Now, more rules will come, but for now we have some paperwork for you."

I motioned her to the coffee table where she knelt in front of the papers I had taken out. I ordered her to sign them after explaining to her what they were. In essence, I now legally had final say over her in health and financial matters. I might have embellished a little and after she shakily signed her name, she was now under the impression that she had now waved all her rights in exchange for my protection. She now knew that my legal end of the deal was to provide her with the protection she needed, not the love, not the attention, but the roof over her head, the food, and no more worry about money issues. Poor bitch now had no money issues to worry about. This, I told her would be proof of both hers and my sincerity on upholding the bargain. Now, after she had signed these documents and I had faxed them over to my lawyer, she was now my property and in exchange her piece of mind was that I would never banish her from my protection.

I sealed the deal by making her strip off her clothes, kneel in front of me and kiss my shoes.

"Rule, just like the furniture and the food and drink and bathroom privileges, clothing is also under my domain. You may not wear clothing unless I specify it. You again may ask, but it is up to me. When I come home from work each day, I want you to be at the door naked, and you will welcome your Master home by kissing his shoes and greeting him by his title."

Again she responded with a yes Master.

I waited patiently as she realized that she should remove all her clothing. The clothes stunk, dirty and greasy, I wrinkled my nose, bundled the clothes up and threw them ceremoniously into the trash. She fidgeted, her exposed body, the rolls of fat and the varicose veins made her quite self conscious. She kept trying to hide her private parts with her arms. I patiently slapped her arms away each time she tried.

We continued as I went over the rules and what I expected her to do, she would not be sitting on her ass all day long, she would have to work, since I was the breadwinner, her day was mapped out with chores, everything from preparing breakfast and dinner for me to the cleaning, the wash and other tasks. She was only allowed in certain rooms, certainly the kitchen and the downstairs bathroom, the living room and for now I made my bedroom off limits. She tentatively asked where she would sleep, and I made a big show of trying to decide where in the garage a stupid slut like her should sleep. Finally I cleared out a pantry next to the kitchen, threw some towels down and said, you sleep here until I say so.

It was getting late, but I still had to impress upon her what happens if she disobeyed or misbehaved. I led her upstairs to the far bedroom. I opened the door and she gasped. The guest bedroom had been cleared out of all smooth soft objects to make way for my dungeon. "Oh, I've made some changes since you decided to walk out on me." I mocked. Strapping her in to a pillory her head and arms immobilized, I cuffed her ankles to each side as she was bent over giving me a perfect target for her ass.

I pulled down several whips and paddles, showing them to her, I laughed evilly. I grabbed a bright red ball gag and shoved it into her mouth. "I'm going to show you what happens if you disobey. Call this a sampling, but I think I shall also enjoy beating you for the hurt you've caused me." I bent down, grabbed her hair and roughly twisted her head to look me in the eyes, "For each blow I inflict on you, know this, your little mid-life crises made me who I am today, every ounce of pain you feel is because you broke me, hurt me and made me angry. You humiliated me and drove me to enjoy inflicting pain on people. These last two years as I learned my new trade, every single stroke, cut, lash...all of it I pictured you at the end of it."

All she could do was moan through her ball gag. Her eyes were tearing up.

I started out slowly, first warming her ass with my hand, taunting her.

"Look at that fat lard-ass. It's like hitting jello. My you have let yourself go."

I quite enjoyed my hand prints on her ass, but time to progress. I pulled out a small cat o' nine tails. Dangling it in front of her face, I smiled and introduced it to her. Then I moved behind her and started whipping her slowly but progressively faster and harder on both ass cheeks and her back.

"You were never really pretty to begin with," I sneered. "But really, you are disgusting! Fat, lazy, old, what the fuck happened to you?"

It was a rhetorical question of course, how could I expect her to answer when gagged?"

She was fidgeting now, the whole of her backside was red, the cat was good at irritating the skin as it bit and dragged itself over the skin.

I walked over to the wall and hung the cat back up. Next I pulled down a nasty looking paddle. Birchwood, thick, long and evil looking

"This, my dear is a paddle. I'm so looking forward to seeing how your ass looks after this."

No warm up this time, I just hit her squarely on her left ass cheek and then right. I only gave her five strokes on each cheek. She was sobbing now. Her eyes were gunked over, her nose and mouth strewing spittle and snot.

I gave some tissue after hanging up the paddle, and calmly, soothingly wiped her face clean. "Shhhh..." I cooed. Tenderly I wiped her cheeks and face clean. It took her a few minutes to calm down slightly, her entire body shaking as she struggle in the stocks.

Stupid bitch, she thought it was over.

I got up and pulled down a nice flexible rod, it was fiberglass, and had far less chance of breaking than a wooden switch or cane. "This," I said as I swung it around to allow her to hear the whooshing noise it made as I swung it. "This, is by far one of my nastiest tools at my disposal."

Realizing that the beating wasn't over, she sobbed and started crying again. The look on her face was one of pure terror yet a realization that there was nothing she could do to avoid it. Her struggling in the stocks now seemed rather faint, all energy sapped from the previous instruments and beatings.

I grabbed her hair and raised her face up to view the rod. "Spare the rod and spoil the slave? I fucking well think not Bitch!"

She moaned, well that's about the only thing she could do.

"I own you ass. You have given me yourself, your body, to do as I see fit. I will protect you from everyone, but myself. You still have plenty of penance to pay."

All she could do is look into my eyes, wet, teary, sniveling, her eyes pleaded with me, she had learned her lesson. I think not. Not by a long shot.

I maneuvered around behind her, and measured up for my first strike.

If you've never been hit by a cane or rod, you just cannot comprehend how badly it hurts. There's a sharp flash of pain that shoots through your entire body, but worst of all there then comes a long lingering pain, an ache as the skin cells die around where you have been struck. The concentrated blow basically erupts all the cells in that area and the remaining pain is like a fire torch burning its way through the skin.

She had no idea, until that first strike. She howled! All the remaining strength coursed through her body as she tried to break free of the stocks. The pillory was strong, made of solid oak wood. I waited till she calmed down before I swung the second stroke.