“Wake up, slut!” The mistress orders as my eyes flick open, revealing a house-like setting as I notice my wrists are bound tightly to a metal hook. This hanger nailed into the ceiling of a large room, complete with a wall covered in floggers of sharpened blades connected to chains for whipping bastard slaves, hot ironing brands to mark her servants, rollers with metal spikes—all these torturous objects, fully coated in dry blood, signifies a heavenly adventure that is just about to begin.
“What dirty and naughty things are you going to do to me, Mistress?” I ask as she stares deep into my mind before she begins to approach my premises, moving behind where I’m standing, and feeling her hand sliding up my scrotum, finally groping and jerking me off, causing me to grow hard with pleasure.
As she slowly rubs my genitalia, I hear her respond with, “Little Piggies don’t get to ask questions,” proceeding to smile and tape shut my mouth as I am silently submitting to being disciplined, slowly beginning to feel a stream of off-white liquids dribble out of the throbbing opening to my urethra. Next, I watch as she ever so slowly slinks over to the wall of Sadist sex toys, eyeing me like a wolf to its dinner, pulling a serrated edge knife flogger off the rack.
She begins creeping back to me; her fingertips are sliding up my body, creating sensually charged sensations that rip through my body, muscles, and tendons like the feeling of a cold wintery day.
Suddenly, as she removes her hands from my skin, the painful pleasure commences as the blades get pounded against my back, the gag getting released to allow time for air, and the voice of my dominatrix ordering,” Count the number of lashes you feel, or you will be sorry!” I nod, and as the second strike of bodily destruction, caused by the hands of my owner, my voice echoes through the torture chamber, counting from one to ten.
After that, she grabs a cane and begins whacking the bottom of both of my grimy feet, resulting in black and purple bruises that start to cave in on themselves with each hit enacted upon my soles. “I think someone likes the pain, don’t you, my little Maso-Slut?” She asks as my eyes are bulging out of their sockets and as the sweat is quickly pouring down my face, finally dripping onto my tongue.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/mxas2w/the_house_of_punishment