customer service

As a domme my motto is ‘the customer is always wrong’. But there are
times when I am more than happy to oblige their kinky requests. So the
other day, a slave contacted me to say he wanted to be humiliated and
degraded. Those two words are music to my ears. If the slave wants
humiliation and to be treated like a miserable animal – then I’m the
woman to deliver.

He asked to be made to kneel naked at my feet. And with a wave of my
magic (electro) wand and the rub of his oily lamp, my command is his
wish (to reverse the Aladdin story). So he arrived at the dungeon only
to be told to strip naked and get down on his knees. As he did so,
bollocks and cock hanging out ready for my ‘attention’, I quickly did
a neat bit of ropework on his hands. I am well trained in bondage
knots and in a flash transformed some of my rope into a pair of
handcuffs. A quick pull on the rope and the knots got tighter binding
his hands firmly behind his back. Feeling that he was looking a little
too comfortable, I placed a nice thin cane under his knees. Believe me
that gets very very painful. Sadly, for him, he winced in pain.
Wincing without permission is a crime in the Paris Penal Code and so
he was instantly punished by a harsh slap across the face.

‘You are going to please your mistress by  performing the lick and
slap routine!,’ I barked into his left ear. He looked puzzled. What
did this mean?

‘You will lower your head, pull out your disgusting tongue and start
licking my leather boots. After 10 licks you will present your face to
me for two slaps, one on each cheek. If your licking is not up to
standard, my standard, you will receive double or treble the number of
face slaps. Is that clear?’

The naked and bound slave nodded meekly. The licking began. He started
well but soon began to grunt and slaver over boots. He was clearly
enjoying this far too much and had broken my laws.

‘Head up – filthy dog. Present you cheeks to me. Your face cheeks (the
other ones will receive my attention soon enough.’ He knelt up and put
his head back ready for a slapping. But this time I surprised him with
a powerful jet of spit – mistress spit; goddess spit, right between
the eyes. A lovely globule of saliva went clean into his right eye.
Unable to wipe his face, I helped in the drying process by delivering
20 powerful slaps with my now gloved hands. I am a strong goddess and
a slap from me is a mighty blow. He yelled in pain as each blow made
his face turn redder.

Tired with this punishment, I took another length of rope and tied it
tightly round his balls – a neat slip knot pressed up into his fleshy
sac.

‘You will follow me. You have no choice!’ I bellowed at him and pulled
on the rope yanking him on to all fours. He followed me like a docile
lap poodle. I led him by the balls into the garden, pushed him on to
the cold and wet grass (this was February). He was now flat on his
back looking up at his mistress’ boots, stocking tops and black
panties. I sensually moved the knickers to one side exposing my secret
pee hole.

‘Open your mouth you filthy mastiff’ He did so and without a pause I
unleashed a stream of my golden juices aimed directly at his open gob.
I made sure that my aim wasn’t that good and covered his shivering
body with my warm piss. How I laughed at his predicament: naked on my
lawn, goosepimpled from the cold and now smeared in warm urine.

‘Thank mistress for warming you up you ungrateful fucker!’ I was now
pissed or pissed off and gave him a sharp kick in the ribs. For this
he simply moaned and didn’t thank me.  I unleashed a torrent of abuse
calling him every name under the sun. Then it happened. He was excited
by being verbally assaulted that his cock got hard.

‘How dare you have an erection without my permission?’ I was furious.
So furious that I went inside to fetch a short cock whip. I bent over
over him and gave him 12, 15, 20, maybe 30 harsh blows with the whip
not just on his tethered balls  but at his stiff cock – which quickly
subsided with the biting stings of the whip.

I had had enough of this wanker. I ordered him on to his feet and
marched him by the testicles to my dungeon and the cage within, I
shoved him into the narrow cage and closed the iron bar gates tightly
shut.

‘You will spend the night in this cell, with only my piss to drink
from your body. And if I come to find you with a stiffy again, I will
take you out and strap you into my punishment bed to give you a night
of torture you never dreamt of.

With that warning, I turned out the dungeon light. Locked in his tiny
cage, enveloped in darkness with nothing to eat, he would have hours
to  think abut his crimes. Hours to thank his mistress for her
generous customer service.

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