Last Time – Part 1 of 2

thRN057GSN

Dion glanced out of the rearview mirror and pursed her lips to avoid smiling. Doug had no idea what was in store for him. He’d been an insolent, selfish, ungrateful and disrespectful slave. He’d been – past tense. He signed a revocation to the Slave Contract.

Dion was pissed and wanted to beat him at his own game, so to speak. It’d been her desire to break him from the start, but she’d wanted to have fun with him first. A broken slave is a useless slave, she told herself. His attempt to play mind games would have infuriated her had she been in denial of his ignorance. She shook her head knowing he’d long forgotten she had a doctorate degree in psychology.

Doug trying to psyche Dion out was a joke. An attempt only an extremely foolish slave, ex-slave, would make. She’d asked for one last session, expressed her desire to break him, hear him grunt around his ball gag, see him drool from the inability to swallow his own spit, see him bleed from things he claimed he wanted her to do to him in their now revoked Contract. He’d expressed his desire to be tortured and signed an agreement releasing Dion from liability of bodily harm.

th5Y4G3VI3

The following are some items Doug stated via email he was willing to endure: noose play; whipping; cuts and punctures to the skin with a knife or razor; anal insertion; nipple and needle torture; burns to the skin by a lit cigarette, metal or branding tool; forced sexual acts with other individuals picked by Mistress; use of sharp objects, pliers, needle nose, vice grips and clamps;  and auto erotic asphyxiation.

Facing the steering wheel, Dion lowered her head down. Someone walking by may have thought she was praying. She was actually hiding a mischievous grin while thinking “someone needed to pray for Doug for what he was about to endure.”

thF2IZCB7D

She put the car in park and pulled up the hand brake. She rolled up the windows, removed her seatbelt, and exited the car holding two bags; one, her black bag of equipment and the other Chinese takeout. Doug held the apartment door open her Dion and she brushed past him without speaking. “Hello, Mistress,” he mumbled, head down after a quick glance to see if she’d acknowledge him. Silly ex-slave still calling me “Mistress.” I am, but not his since he revoked our Contract, Dion mused. “Did you eat today?” She asked, already knowing he hadn’t. “No, Mistress,” he said looking at the brown takeout bag. Dion used to fuss at him for only eating one meal a day, but now she was glad. She understood torture could come in many forms. She sat the bags down and turned to face him.

“Get undressed,” Dion ordered. Doug quickly undressed, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor.
“I didn’t say be a slob,” she said with disgust. He picked up his clothes, folded them neatly and placed them on top of the dresser.
Dion opened the brown bag and pulled out the containers. The smell of Chinese food wafted through the tiny apartment.
“You like Chinese food?” She asked.
“Yes, Mistress,” Doug said. “It’s been a long time since I had any. It smells really …”
“Did I ask you when you last ate it or how it smelled?”
“No, Mistress,” Doug put his head down.
“Come here, turn around and get on your knees.”
Doug obeyed like the loyal slave he once was.

Share this article and subscribe for automatic notification of Part 2. Thank you.

Published by

Dion

I journeyed from GED to a PhD in Psychology. I decided to focus on my writing once I retired from the clinical field. I write in various genres and have several WIPs for publication once edited. I post articles on this website for intellectual and entertainment purposes.

0 thoughts on “Last Time – Part 1 of 2”

Leave a Reply to Ha Harshbarger Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *