Mistress Trix

The brown, leather-bound riding crop made an extremely sharp sound, slapping against his firm back. He flinched in pain, but let out a pleasurable grunt as the rod connected with is skin.
"Again?" A seductive voice spoke, softly to her play thing, gently moving the crop in a "S" up and down his back.
"Yes!" He cooed in excited affliction.
She snapped the birch again, this time hardier against his back, he let out a louder joyous cry. "Yes who?"
"Yes Mistress Trix!" The man whined out. He was completely naked, on his knees, balancing carefully while his broad arms were tied behind his back with black rope that connected to his feet, also entangled in the rope. She punished the man again, hitting him twice, for both their pleasures. Then went back to making the "S" shape. She smiled at the sight of his milky colored skin turning red.
"So Sub, I heard you've been a bad boy. Is this true?" Mistress Trix question, slapping the horsewhip-hard-this time against his firm buttocks. The man groaned a pleasurable sigh of pain, as he answered her, "Yes Mistress Trix."
The tall, curvaceous, tan-skinned woman was wearing six-inch high, patent-leather heels, along with fishnet tights, under a black leather dress that was so tight it appeared like a second skin. The dress showed off her voluptuous body splendidly. It was hitched together with a black, glossy zipper that she had stopped at the best spot to she off the perfect amount of cleavage. Her exquisite neck, lead to her equally stunning face that hidden from the nose up by an all black mask, jeweled with onyx gems. Her deep crimson lipstick being the only color in the otherwise sea of black.
She ran her ebony, silk glove-covered hand through her sub's hair, pulling his head back, again he wined in gratifying agony, she slaped his chest with the bullwhip few times keeping his head retched back, she loved to see the delightful horror in his eyes from every hit, " And what is it I do to my Subs who have been bad? Especially you Elliot?" She yanked his head hardier as she whispered his name into his own ear, landing a few blows to his chest, for her own happiness, "Answer me Elliot or do I need to get the flogger?" She threatened him for not answering quick enough, knowing the flogger was his least favorite of her toys. Her voice went from soft and seductive to demanding, but still just as sultry.
"You punish them Mistress Trix." The grown, fit man cried with complete, disgustful, zest in every word.
"Do you want me to punish you Elliot?" She still had a fist full of hair, and tugged it hardier, whipping him again, going back to his butt.
The man let out a childish cry, dripping with satisfaction, "Yes Mistress Trix. Please punish me. I've been bad I need it. Please!" He begged.
Mistress Trix threw Elliot's head down causing him to loose his balance disappearing from his sight, as he fell to the floor. He was a grown man crying for more humiliation and torture. Elliot was one of the nine of Mistress Trix's Clients or submissives as she liked to call them- Subs for short- and Elliot loved to be hit. Not not just hit- punished hard- with whips, canes, crops, slappers, straps, but his favorite was the paddle.
Elliot was a fifty-five year old man who was just voted one of Forbes 50 most power people. Elliot was a corporate business man. The CEO of one of the biggest financial firms in the world. Elliot had a wife of thirty years and two children. He ate a stick diet, stay in great shape, working out four times a week, and running at least five miles the other three. He was a black belt in martial arts and had a huge appreciation for guns, going to the range twice a week. He was a strong, powerful man, with the world at his feet. Yet, here he was hog-tied like a pig on the floor of his private penthouse, begging for his dominant to torture him anyway she pleased.
Mistress Trix came back to where Elliot was sprawled out on the mahogany wood floor unable to move from the position he was tied up in. Mistress Trix smacked her hand with one of her many black, leather bound paddles. This made Elliot's eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.
"You want this Elliot?" She demanded, shoving the paddle in his face. All Elliot could do was nod with excitement.
She took four steps back, distancing herself from him, "Then come over here and lick my shoes clean then I'll give you want you want."
And this fifty-five year old, married millionaire, and father of two proceeded to shimmy and squirmed his way over to Mistress Trix's feet. He began licking her pumps clean in desperate hope that it would make her happy and she would reward him. Reward him with astonishingly, horrible, delight that was paddling.

Reviews

[Leon C]

A wonderful piece of work.

It captures the need some of us feel to give up power and control to another.