After the awful man had finished using his cane on me, he left me dangling helplessly from my wrists for several minutes. Relieved as I was that the caning was over and that I was alone for the time being, I was absolutely desperate to get my hands free and see if they could be of any comfort at all to my poor bottom, which honestly felt as though lines of fire were burning across it. As I stood, miserably facing the wall, I hoped with all my heart that he’d had enough of hurting me now, and that the nightmarish quality of the last half hour would soon fade…..
Suddenly he was back, untying my hands and allowing me to collapse to the floor of the dungeon. Then, hideously (and I can’t believe this actually happened, it was more humiliating than I can bear to explain) he attached a lead to my collar and coldly made it clear that he expected me to crawl from now on, all across the dungeon and up the stairs. With the caning still fresh in my mind it seemed too risky to resist, so I reluctantly picked my way across the hard concrete floor to the flight of stairs. At this point I realized with mounting horror that as I crawled up the stairs with him behind me; if he chose he’d be able to enjoy a full view of the area between my legs and there was nothing at all that I could do to prevent it. My face was bright red with embarrassment by the time I reached the first floor.
Upstairs really was fairly pleasant; and when he gave me a bottle of aloe vera gel and left me alone to rub it on the stripes across my bottom, I wondered if perhaps the worst might be over. He’d demonstrated some kind of human feeling, after all, and I hoped that perhaps soon he’d give me my clothes back and the ghastly time in the dungeon (and the talk of ‘demerits’) would be forgotten. The awful burning started to fade and I sat carefully on the comfortable looking leather sofa in the corner. For a moment I wondered if perhaps that might be against the rules; but I never signed up for being treated like an animal! He’d just need to learn to respect me a little…..
Oh heavens, he was back, and from the look on his face, I’d got it wrong – I wasn’t allowed on the sofa…. It was probably the memory of the cane, or possibly something to do with that horrible black strap he seemed to always keep clipped to his belt – but I found myself actually frightened when he pointed out that I’d got oily marks all over the black leather….
When he merely ordered me to clean it off, it was almost a relief; until I realized that he wasn’t planning to unbind my hands. Humiliation almost got the better of me again when, a couple of minutes later, I found myself holding a damp cloth in my mouth, scrubbing the sofa without the use of my hands…. Naturally he seemed delighted to loom over me throughout; I was beginning to hate him!
Then he led me into a rather lovely dressing room and commanded me to redo my makeup. This really did infuriate me. I’d looked perfectly alright till he’d made me strip, crawl, clean furniture with my mouth; until he’d whipped me and made me cry! And when it emerged that even for this, my hands weren’t to be released – I could have cried again. Or kicked him somewhere sensitive – I wasn’t sure which would be best.
But I’d started to suspect that he was a type of person I needed to be wary of, at least until I’d learned more. Honestly, for now, pleasing him seemed to be my safest option in a vile situation. But as I finished my makeup and gazed at my own scared face in the dressing room mirror, I very much doubted that I’d really be able to please a man like this. And I wondered, with more trepidation than I’d ever felt before – what would the next 24 hours bring?
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