Mistress Marisa's Estate Pt. 03

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A slave learns that silence is golden.
1.9k words
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28.1k
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Part 3 of the 36 part series

Updated 11/02/2022
Created 03/19/2014
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keptsissy
keptsissy
2,204 Followers

I am one of several slaves my Mistress Marisa keeps in her household. I am completely owned as are the other slaves that serve her. These episodes are written with her permission. It is my, our story...

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I am on my toes, not up at the top of them but just enough to ease the pain of the stainless steel hook, very cold, thick and fat metal hook in my rear. It is a curved suspension hook, huge round bulb on the end. It hooks up into my rectum and is attached tightly to a chain pulling it up and fastening it to the ceiling. There is no possible way to stand, wiggle free from, or move up and off of the hook. I'm pulled up just high enough such that my heels can not come back down fully, can not touch the floor. The hook is deeply embedded in my rear end and holds me painfully in place. My hands are cuffed with tight leather restraints behind my back. I have to bend forward to ease the pressure from the hook, slightly, dancing from foot to foot gently, I can't help it, impossible to stay still. The cold metal shaft of the hook is up between my rear cheeks spreading them the width of the shaft apart.

Out of my mouth sticks a tight and painful clothes pin clipped onto my tongue. It's so far back in my mouth I almost choke, slight gag reflex. It is so tight it hurts, no way to wiggle or move it off of my tongue. I am naked. Whimpering and naked, I am suspended like this.

Next to me, three feet away and facing me, is Robert. He is in the same state of display, naked, hook suspending his rear up high, bent forward with his hands secured behind his back. He moves as I do, slightly from toe to toe. We both know better than to say a word, even make a sound other than the slight gag reflex which is impossible to control with the large tightly secured clasp pins that hold our tongues.

You are sitting in a chair, have been for almost an hour. Sitting and sipping wine. You say nothing, completely silent, watch as we both squirm, anguish, cry gently. Soft music fills the room. You have had a third of the wine in the bottle, sip it slowly, have taken several phone calls, are almost oblivious to our state of pain and agony.

You are wearing a short black dress, black nylons and 4" spike heel knee high soft leather boots. Your hair and makeup are perfect. You are the perfect queen of the manor, the splendidly beautiful lady of the house.

Your phone rings. You look to the two of us, snap your fingers loudly. We both go instantly silent. Except for the soft music, you could hear a pin drop in the room.

"Hello, baby.", you take the call.

It's one of your lovers, your favorite one. We hear you coo into the phone, purr like a kitten and laugh girlishly as he talks to you. We hear the one sided conversation as you listen more than talk. This man is making you very hot.

"Oh, baby, I can't right now but can later tonight. You wanna be a good boy for me? Do all the dirty things you do so well?"

You talk with him, listen as he makes you wet with his sex talk, dirty chat of what he wants to do to you. You like this man. He is more than a talented lover, and is aggressive in all the right places.

"Okay, 8pm. But you're gonna take me out and feed me first.", cute and sexy smile through the phone. You end the call.

You stand, placing your phone on the table next to you. You pick up your dragon tail whip off of the table next to you. You walk to the side of me, facing both of us. You glare.

"You little men enjoying your conversation with each other? I've been patiently sitting, listening. You don't seem as chatty as you were in my bathroom. Cat got your tongues?"

You slap my rear hard with you bare hand. Hear me yelp, muffled by the clasping clothes pin on my tongue.

"So, if you could talk, if you could 'find your tongues' so to speak, which one of you little fucks could tell me why you were talking with each other? What have I told you both about that?"

I start to cry, Robert follows. We both start to sob.

Several hours ago we were cleaning your house, working our fingers to the bone. Robert entered the upstairs bathroom I was scrubbing. I asked him if he thought I did a good job on the bathroom, did it gleam, would it please you. He answered me, politely.

You appeared from nowhere. You were in the hall, neither of us heard you coming. As soon as he finished saying the words...'Don't know if she'll be pleased, you shouldn't talk, just work.'...a hand came down hard across the back of his head and across his face. He screamed out loudly. You slapped him again. Hurrying to me, you took my hair in your hand. You slapped me three times full force, screamed at both of us.

"What is the rule for slaves talking in the house!!??!!! Chatty little bitches! Get up and move to the punishment room, NOW!!!"

You pulled me up by my hair.

"You'll finish that toilet later with your tongue, Ethan. Move!"

You see Robert scurry as fast as he can in front of you as you drag me, lead me by my hair right behind him.

We've been suspended in the punishment room since then.

The whip comes down across Robert, catches his outer thigh and wraps up viciously around his rear end. He screams out loudly.

"And you dear Robert, you of all little bitches? Like you don't know the fucking rules??!??"

You bristle, scream. I start to cry violently, sobbing. Stammer and lisp through the pin on my tongue...

"Thorry, tho thorry, Mistreth..."

Feel you take my hair in your hand, hard and tight.

"Shut up."

You bring the whip down across Robert again.

It starts.

We are both whipped to the extreme, both crying hugely, violently begging, sobbing, hysterically crying when you finally drop the whip to the floor. You ignore our loud screaming and move back to your chair. You sit, sip your wine calmly.

"In this house you two are not to talk to each other unless I tell you to. You both have been told."

You sit and watch as we convulse, dance from toe to toe held in place by the cold metal hooks up our rear ends. Tears puddle on the floor in front of both of us.

You sip your wine and say nothing, just watch.

"You boys should know that I'm very wet right now. I guess it's a good thing my lover is coming over tonight."

You stand.

You move to me, roughly pull the clip off of my tongue. I yelp as it falls off. You just as quickly take my naked penis and apply the clip to it. I start to scream, loud. Scream uncontrollably, dance from foot to foot.

You ignore that, move to Robert, you take the clip off of his tongue. He recoils, winces through his sobbing, waits for it to be clasped onto his penis. You turn to me, slap my face.

"Tongue, Ethan."

Through the tears I stick my tongue out, penis throbbing, aching. You clip the clasp from Robert's mouth onto my tongue. You move to the back of him and lower him from the hook slowly onto the heels of his feet. Removing the hook from his rear and letting it drop to the floor you take him to your chair. You snap your fingers loudly and point to the floor in front of you. He instantly kneels, facing you, tear stained eyes to the floor.

You wiggle up your skirt. Just as quickly and sexily you wiggle down your panties. You take them off and put them on the arm of the chair. You snap your finger and point to your pussy. Robert instantly starts to service you.

The only sound in the room other than the soft music is my whimpering and sobbing. The slight sound of your wetness as Robert uses his mouth to service you. You stare at me, watch me intently as Robert goes down on you.

"Ooooo, yes...yes...", you are soaking wet and he is more than pleasing you.

I dance from toe to toe, whimper and cry as you cum several times.

When you are satisfied and finished you stand, pushing Robert's head roughly away, almost knocking him onto his side. Taking your panties from the arm of the chair you move to me, smile as you hang them on the clasp attached to my aching penis.

"No talking amongst slaves, Ethan. That should be clear now, right? Do you understand my rule?"

You are an inch from my tear soaked face.

"Yeth, yeth...oooo, plesth...uh...", you don't wait for my answer, just move to the door.

"I want him whipped twenty five times across the backs of his thighs with the crop. When you finish you take him back up to the bathroom. He's not finished in there. If I catch you two talking again without permission you'll spend two days down here on the hook. Two fucking days!"

You leave the room, see you move your skirt down over your naked hips as you walk to the door.

Robert moves quickly to the closet and takes out a riding crop. He hurries to do as told. I violently shake, convulse and scream as I am whipped.

An hour later I am let down of the hook. The clasps removed from my penis and tongue, I am hurried upstairs. I cry softly after being taken from the basement by Robert, led back to the bathroom. I am on my knees scrubbing the floor when I feel your presence.

You enter, fresh makeup, beautiful, hair in a tight bun up behind your head. I cower and bend to the floor at your feet.

"Ethan, you really do a good job around my house. It really isn't that hard to please me. You know that."

I feel you bend forward and pet my head.

"I'm going out to dinner and when I get back, I usually save this treat for Robert but have decided to reward you with it, show you I'm not all mean and cruel, I'm going to let you lick me clean after my lover cums in me. I'm going to allow you to clean me. Robert will be jealous but he will have to deal with it. Maybe I'll let him lick the sheets after my lover leaves. We'll see."

You check yourself in the mirror.

"What do you say, little man?"

"Thank you, Mistress Marisa, thank you...thank you...".

You turn as you are about to leave.

"No talking, Ethan. You be a good boy from now on."

You bend slightly, reach down. You take my sore and still aching penis in your soft hand. You gently fondle it, kiss my forehead.

You stand. You don't wait to hear my apology, my thank you as you leave to meet your lover in the living room where he waits for you.

keptsissy
keptsissy
2,204 Followers
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  • COMMENTS
3 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousalmost 10 years ago
That's a TPE fantasy though

I liked the story. This is a story about a TPE relationship. The imbalance of power is, in itself, the erotic nature of the story. So you don't need to have sex to make it erotic. Good job keptsissyboy!

V

keptsissykeptsissyalmost 10 years agoAuthor
@FA_JF--author's note

Sincere answer to your sincere question: Respectfully, you are looking too hard, and missing the point, not to mention over-thinking the porn, eroticism aspect of my dirty stories. And although much of which comes from personal experience, they are just that--dirty stories. Mistress Marisa and her slaves are motivated by abject sadism and abject masochism...by 100% lifestyle S&M. That IS what the slave gets out of it, the Mistress as well. I think that's abundantly clear. And I think that is abundantly sexually arousing...the essence of S&M. I hope this answers your question and I hope you will not only enjoy my stories but 'stroke' (as you put it) to them as well (and often). And that being said, I rarely comment back on comments. Hope this helps.

keptsissy

FA_JFFA_JFalmost 10 years ago

Sincere question. What is erotic here? You do not let us know what, if anything, the slaves get from this interaction. Certainly nothing from the mistress, but not even an indication of personal satisfaction at serving, or involuntary arousal at the treatment they endure. Leaving out the slaves' motivation in what is being presented as a consensual situation leaves a gaping whole in the story. That is what makes many readers react negatively, as it appears abusive and nonconsensual on the surface. You seem be going strictly for strong stroking material. Fine, but your story could be that and much more.

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