It was a simple ritual, really, just five slaps across the face, each getting progressively harder; five fists to the groin/cock area, again getting progressively harder; five strikes with the ruler or board to the back of my head and then the five to my knuckles.
I was able to muffle my grunts, pained breathes and gaged words quiet enough to stay in the room. She swung hard, but also hit in angles of increasing pain infliction and precision. Mistress was good and efficient at her work.
I was throbbing in places, my mind assessing the damage, my heart racing, breath fast, wondering if that was all. She had left the room, gone for a few minutes as I reevaluated my choice, walking through the door, submitting to Mistress Lace without begging to be taken off the website, pictures destroyed or deleted. Surely, a professional such as herself was reasonable.
She returned as I heard he sit down at her desk, I faced her like a child punished for bad behavior, now having audience with the head master. I heard her laugh, now realizing she was on the phone, and couldn’t quite make out much until I heard, “Luv you, bye.”
“We now have a standing 7 a.m. meeting here in my office, Puer.” she said. “There are really no one here until around 7:50 a.m., this is quite delightful. I was always coming in about now thinking all of these hard working teachers were here so much earlier, but they really are not.”
“Yes, its…” I began to say but it was muffled in the gag.
“Fucking silence,” she whispered and hit me across the cheek as hard as her last slap. “Until 8 a.m. I am Mistress Lace, who will let you know when you can speak. Piece of shit.”
I dropped my head down, not that she could see my eyes, and just listened. I began to feel very worthless and that of a failure to my life and my family.
“Walk in and shut the door at 10 a.m., 1 p.m. and again at 4:00 p.m., understand?” she said.
“Yes, Mistress,” I said for the first time.
“Did you know you have a small dick?” she said softly, intending to humiliate me in the last minutes before 8 a.m. “A woman as beautiful as your wife, must be starving for a real cock, a real man? She was so eager on the phone, I could hear it, and I know how she can get satisfied and it’s without your small penis.”
The bell that signaled 8 a.m. rang and she stopped. She moved over, cut the zip tie, pulled off the hood and undid the gag. She threw me a hair brush and I worked out the mess on my head. I stood up and she moved between me and the door.
“Janice,” I said meekly. “Can we turn this back right now? I mean…”
“I’m your worst nightmare, and wettest wet dream wrapped up in one,” Janice said moving swiftly to my face, now close and ready to kiss me. “Do as I say and you’ll reach heights your small, conventional little mind can not imagine.”
She pulled away, holding my eyes before leaving into the side room.
——————————————————————————————————————
“Mr. F?” Kimmy, my secretary said as I had my head in my hands, trying to work. It was 10:25 a.m., I had just gotten through my second round of “fives” as Mistress Lace called them. I looked up at the pretty, pregnant, 20something as the then asked, “You okay?”
“Always, my dear,” I said mustering a smile, my groin area throbbing as I took five rounds of five punches there at 10 a.m. “Long night of not sleeping, back stuff you know.”
“Oh, you’re in need of a new mattress, that’s right, I remember,” Kimmy said, sweetly. “Just checkin’ on ya’ boss.”
It wasn’t just the pain this time, it was the total and utter humiliation and threats verbally that I somewhat enjoyed, but this time it was personal and it was specific to my marriage. Janice Flaherty, transformed into Mistress Lace, must have written down so much about what I had told her prior as just my “Work Wife.”
“Your a pre-ejaculate, skinny-dicked, self-pleaser who has never fulfilled his wife’s needs. You are not worth the cum you let dry on your hand after you masturbate to the thought of another man pleasing her,’ she said after the last punch, sending pain shooting through my sack.
She asked over and over as she struck me, my arms zip-tied behind the chair, my pants undone, “I bet you would get off watching her be satisfied by a real man?”
“Yes, Mistress Lace, I would cum watching,” thinking at the time it would stop the pain in the moment, just drawing more precise punches to my balls and shaft. I didn’t really believe it at that time, though I did get a little excited as she painted the scene.
“A cock beyond your imagination parts your sweet wife Melanie, her screams are that of a wild animal in the forest being devoured by the hunted,” Mistress whispered close to my ear. “She was hunted, captured and taken for sexual nourishment.”
After several more minutes I regained some manner of conscious, productivity, coming out of the haze, making it to lunch duty. I stayed clear of Janice at lunch and even ate a little, though my appetite was almost eliminated as my body recovered. Inspecting myself, I notice the left side of my sack a little swollen.
The minutes sped by and soon it was 12:45 p.m. and my next punishment time was drawing near, the dread of another round hit the pit of my stomach. My cellphone rang and he name of our district’s superintendent was shown on my phone.
“Thomas, I need you to stop by my office in 15 minutes,” he said and after I said “Sure thing” he hung up.
Crap. I was going to miss my 1 p.m., or at least be significantly late, and I wondered what punishment that was going to heap on to my list. I was sure she wouldn’t take work time into consideration at all. The aches that were still there throbbed more as my conscious fear sunk deep in my gut.
I did 10 minutes of email and began to walk down, peering down the hall at her office door, it was shut surprisingly. I continued past classroom, after classroom of students and teachers doing their thing until I made it to the district office. I saw Mr. Carson sitting in his desk, he looked up and motioned me in through the window, half his office open to the board room. I smiled at Jean, his secretary and went in though his door.
“Have a seat, Thomas,” he said and as I turned to the right I saw Janice sitting in a chair, she was looking down yet her eyes were still up to meet mine. The door closed and I nervously made my way into my seat.
“I’ll get right to it as it seems you’ve made Mrs. Flaherty uncomfortable discussing troubles with your marriage on work time,” Mr. Carson said in his no-nonsense approach to handling things. “She claims you offer up personal problems for her to consider, sort of using her as a ‘marriage counselor’ per se.”
“Can I add that while I often listen to other staff’s problems and Mr. Fredrick is the only one who brings up the personal nature of his marriage,” Janice said, now looking squarely at me.
“Is this true Thomas?” Mr. Carson said, awaiting my response.
“I, I, I had no idea I was crossing a line,” I said, not wanting to deny it in the presence of my Mistress, yet not wanting to admit wrong doing to my boss. “I can certainly eliminate any discussions of my personal life with Mrs. Flaherty moving forward. I had no intention to make her uncomfortable.”