My Pill at Last
It gingerly crawls. He’s a mass of welts, though the tattooed flesh veils the many strokes of the cane. As Madam guides him back into his cage, the source of his awkward manner of conveyance becomes evident.
Bastinado. During the hours while my energy slowly ebbed, head drooping to stress the neck collar and leash, It has been the whipping boy for some sadistic woman who, as Madam suggested, relishes caning the subordinate male... or one time male. It appears the soles of the feet have received particular attention.
“Very good, It. Good boy,” Madam compliments as It humbly crawls within the confines of the steel bars and positions himself.
Within moments the wrists and ankles are tethered and the dangling chains are hooked to the intrusive ear loops. Despite the long painful beating he shall not lie in rest.
Having spent some two hours restrained in a similar position, the torment slow as muscles ache and cramp and the head begins to feel like a heavy block of granite, I begin to understand Its eagerness for release... even to greet a most sadistic woman.
The catheter tube is expertly slipped back into place, for Madam a daily task. And I note It lurches in pain with the handling of his penis, the acid baths making it constantly sore to the touch. Lastly It is intubated, which appears to offer the most discomfort, gagging as Madam heartlessly presses the large tube to the depths of his gullet.
“And how is Mr. Grieves?” finally turning her attention to me.
I remain silent, in awe of the callousness. It is a defacto piece of beef, poked and prodded, orifices penetrated at a woman’s whim.
Madam steps to the front, genuinely enthused in seeing how much my muscles yearn for motion, my energy depleted. She stoops and peers, my low hanging purple sac quite prominent between forcibly parted thighs.
“My goodness, I think your penis has shrunk almost half an inch,” she mocks knowing full well of the many effects of hormone imbalance.
“May I have my pills, please Madam?”
“Of course. First tell me how you feel? It has been well punished today. Does that offer satisfaction? I told my client he has been naughty, no details about the fateful bite. But she responded with quite the caning. Bastinado cannot be endured. It squealed and squealed.”
I say nothing. I cannot possibly believe that It is totally responsible for my castration. He does nothing without the firm direction of Madam. Still there is something within, a little glow, seeing the creature so well tormented. The agony of bastinado... searing pain... and applied reputedly to the largest set of nerves in the body.
Madam steps away and returns, chair in one hand glass of water in the other. She sits. It is apparent my silence it not to be accepted.
“So, held in strict bondage by a woman. You must be happy but so tired. And I am the only person who can offer relief. Yet, you’re also naughty. Silence does not fare well, Mr. Grieves. You’re not too many steps from Its fate. I may just shave your head and begin tattooing you. But please rest assured, I am more accomplished than when I began on It. I can now do better.”
Once again I shudder in fear and concern. Madam notices and laughs. Then she reaches into her pocket and extracts the pill bottle, holding it before me suggestively. She waves it about, the message... I am close... yet far.
“You like it... suffering for me. You even enjoy the isolation, kneeling in my cage, helpless, not knowing when I will return... if I will return. And the whole time your system slowly transforms, crying for chemicals your body can no longer produce.”
She pauses, smiling. She knows she is right.
“You hope for just a little mercy. Something as simple as untying your leash. Just a moment of time permitting you to lower your head. A brief respite. But how brief? And I just may tighten, forcing your head higher, beginning again the slow cascade of cramping tiring muscles.”
She opens the pill bottle. I look upon the tablets as I would a feast of delicacies. Is my penis shrinking? Are my nipples puffing? I need my dosage.
“At some point you must sleep and to do that I must slacken the leash. But you’ll not know when. It’s my caprice. You control nothing... not even the fate of your genitals.”
She laughs, her hand pressing through the bars palm up, the blue dose of hormones offered at last. I lick it from her hand. Then the water glass is offered, holding it to my lips.
Medication at last! I drink and swallow like a hungry dog, Madam quite amused.
“Tomorrow morning. Be here at 9:00 a.m. At some point in the day you’ll have another pill. But you’ll do some things for me first. I want to put you on display. Deep within you’ll enjoy that.”
She makes a point of tucking my pill bottle back into her pocket. With that she unlocks the cage and releases my right wrist knowing that will allow me to release left wrist, neck collar and ankles.
“Your clothes are in the dungeon.”
She arises and moves to the stairs.
“And Mr. Grieves. If you favor some revenge, I’ll have Its teeth pulled.”
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