This story is entirely fictional and is intended as a fantasy in the world of female domination and male submission. It involves tease and denial with the use of a male chastity device, cuckoldry and corporal punishment. No part of this story is written to suggest such lifestyles were realistic or believable. The characters, named and unnamed, are not based on any living or deceased persons. All locations, whether named or otherwise, in this story, including the nation of Siskovia Province, are also fictitious and any similarities to any that exist anywhere, are coincidental. If you are not interested in fiction in which males, whether willingly or forced, submit to dominant females, or find such subjects objectionable and in opposition to your own preferences, I would strongly suggest you exercise your right not to read any further.
Chapter 4
Day 205 -- Sunday 21st February 2016
Of all my regular guards, Izabela was the one who gave me most trouble. She was always in a bad mood with me, always finding fault with the slightest thing and clearly itching to resume beating me with her strap. Fortunately for me, the rules laid down by Madam Popescu stated prisoners were not to be beaten by guards with any implement for a period of one day for every stroke of the cane received for an official judicial punishment caning. I'd received forty strokes of the cane which made me exempt from the strap for forty days which meant it was over three weeks before I could receive any corporal punishment. In three weeks time, I would have less than sixty days more before my release. Although there was enough time to receive one more caning, I was sure I could manage to stay out of trouble for that long. It would be tough not touching my penis, but I would make absolutely sure it was completely flaccid when washing in the shower to prevent any accidental ejaculations that could be misinterpreted.
Despite knowing I was free of her strap, I continued to obey Izabela and any other guard in every instruction they gave me and in every rule that was written. Not once, for any of the guards, did I fail to get on my knees before they entered my cell. I never once spoke without being asked a direct question and I always made sure there was nothing out of place in my cell. The deeper marks on my bottom had mostly gone, and I was told by the guards, there was only a general redness all over my buttocks with some very faint remnants of the cane strokes.
At lunchtime, Izabela stormed in and stood with her booted feet touching my knees on the ground. She stayed silent for what seemed like an age as if to provoke me, and when it was clear I wasn't going to move, she eventually snapped at me to stand.
"You think it's clever that you avoid the strap, prisoner," she said, her face inches from mine. Her black hair was tied back behind her head making her features hard and her dark eyes intense. As much as I disliked this woman, her demeanour exuded authority, and my frustrated penis grew to full erection.
"You disrespect me with your pathetic cock. How dare you get aroused and threaten me with sex. I have a boyfriend to give me pleasure, I do not need that. It deserves no pleasure from a woman, and it will get no pleasure here. If I was in charge, I would give the strap every time a prisoner had an erection to punish their disrespect. It is not long before Madam Popescu gives permission for you to get beaten again and I am waiting for that day. You will be sorry when you show disrespect ..."
She went on and on at me while I listened and waited for the first opportunity that I was allowed to speak. It came when she finished a sentence with a question: "... do you think you will escape punishment?"
"Yes," I said. "You can't touch me for the next three weeks." As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I'd been far too abrupt with her, and I'd also said too much. I'd made the mistake I'd been so determined not to.
She went silent for a moment and a smirk appeared on her face. "That is true; I cannot beat you for three weeks. But there is another punishment I can give which is just as bad."
She didn't say another word, but from her attitude, I had reacted exactly the way she wanted. She brought my lunch, which, by this time, had gone cold; it was two sausages and a crust of bread with a cup of disgusting cold tea. When she left me alone, I spent the afternoon worrying about what would happen to me; she obviously had something horrible in mind.
Technically I hadn't broken any rules, but it was the content of what I'd said to her and the harshness in my voice. I'd answered the question she'd posed, but it was what I'd added; telling her she couldn't touch me that was the problem. From her point of view, she could interpret it as being an unacceptable answer. If I was to be punished, I went through all the possibilities; she couldn't strap me, she couldn't hit me with anything, it was against the rules. I didn't think she could make me carry more bricks in the yard as that had to come from Madam Popescu, and I already did one hundred bricks every five days as part of my 'fresh air' quota. She could make me miss a meal, but from the look of pleasure in her eyes, it was something that would be of a physical nature; something she could do me that she would enjoy.
I was troubled all afternoon and apprehensive of my next visit from a guard at tea time. I knew when the sun went down from the small window high in my cell wall, so I was aware my evening meal was late. And when the time went on into the evening, and my hunger became desperate, I believed missing a meal was to be my fate, but I was wrong.
I heard movement outside my cell; it sounded like a couple of people, and when the cell door banged three times and the door opened, I was aware of at least three sets of boots walking in.
"Get up, prisoner," Gabriela said.
Three guards stood before me; Izabela and Tilly were the other two. They were all dressed in thick fur coats, scarfs, woollen hats and gloves. They also wore heavy, leather boots.
"You expressed a wish for punishment other than the strap, prisoner, yes?"
"No, Madam Gabriela." My voice shook with fear.
"You told Madam Izabela she could not beat you. That is correct. So, we will give a different punishment you will not like. Madam Tilly, the cuffs, please."
