by Stella Fyre
When three beautiful women approached Bobby in a nightclub, he could hardly believe his luck. He had no idea, at first, what Andrea, Marlene and Petra really wanted, but he soon found himself being put through their rigorous training and testing routines. No man had yet come up to the standards they required to be their permanent sex slave, but perhaps Bobby would be the first.
|Mistress Sylvia walked over to the side of the room and then back. In her hand she held something made of leather, and Bobby had a good idea what it was.
“See this, boy? Well, this is called the cat of nine tails. Its name says it all. It is designed to inflict pain and to mark your body. I don’t think you would believe quite how much it can hurt you until you have experienced it. Now, if you give me The Word, I won’t have to use it on that tender little white body of yours. Give me The Word, boy, or have two strokes of the cat on your ass. What’s it to be, boy, are you going to give me the word?”
Bobby shook his head from side to side.
“You are determined to upset me, boy. Well, I gave you a chance and you threw it back in my face.”
Mistress Sylvia walked out of sight. Unseen by Bobby, she exchanged the cat for another whip, a much softer type of flogger. She stood between his legs with a whip in each hand, and she let the real, hard cat drag over his back. As it fell off his buttocks, she brought the softer version down, but not too hard. Thwack! It struck his right buttock and he groaned, bucking against his bonds.
“Now you have had a taste of the cat, do you like it, Bobby?”
He shook his head from side to side, indicating no.
“Then give me The Word and you will not receive any more pain from my cat. What’s it to be, Bobby? Will you give me The Word?”
The pain he felt was excruciating but still he shook his head from side to side.
“I will have that Word, you disobedient little fart.” Once again, she trailed the hard whip over his back and buttocks, and she saw him tighten all his muscles ready for the pain. A second time she trailed the cat over him, and this time he relaxed a little. Before the cat touched his buttocks and before he was expecting it, Mistress Sylvia lifted it up and brought the other flogger down hard.
Thwack! She heard him scream through the gag, but apart from a little redness, there were no welts or marks. Putting the softer one down and walking to his front, she saw the tears running down his face. “That’s right, you cry, but your mummy will not be able to help you here, little boy. I will leave you with your pain for a while, but I will be back when my cat needs feeding again.”