Coaching the "Dom"

But she did, draping her plants of pain over my engorged dick, cackling as they made contact.

I screamed. It was sheer agony.

The very touch of her plants on my cock was excruciating as every synapse whirred into overdrive, conveying the torment Katherine was inflicting. Becky held my hands to the floor as I floundered, tears rolling down my eyes.

"I'll put my plants down, if you want to put your knickers back on," she suggested. I breathed a sigh of relief, as I agreed in a heartbeat. "Beg," she sadistically added. "Beg to wear my knickers again."

I'm not sure if I could have blushed much more, and at that point I didn't care. Words tumbled from my mouth quicker than a bat out of Hades, panting desperate cries. "Please let me wear the knickers again," I appealed to the sadist.

The girls burst into laughter, as my blindfold was removed and Katherine stood over me, holding nothing more than grass in her right hand. "Nettles are over there," she said with a giggle. "But come on, let's have you pulling up your little knickers."

"But ..." I looked down at my thighs: unmarked and unreddened. I screwed up my face, but Katherine was impatient and crossed her arms, waiting for her underwear to rejoin my hips.

It was agonising; bringing her underwear back to my waist was torture, and the girls delighted in my pain. It was me that begged to be allowed to wear them again, but the grass felt like nettles. I was expecting agony and my mind delivered; I had been tricked, duped and was paying the price.

They didn't stop with the torment; they "made" me kiss Katherine's boots. They tickled me until I almost wet myself and then they shaved my pubic hair off. It was humiliating and horrible, and yet I found myself strangely aroused, something that Katherine reminded me constantly of.

I never understood her games until we returned to our bedroom, dressed and tired.

"You set that all up, didn't you?" I asked the scheming woman as I undressed "Everything about today was all planned by you."

"Of course. I was always three steps ahead of you," she replied with a grin.

"Well I go home in a few days, you can have your knickers back; I'll wash 'em first obviously."

"Keep them."

"No, I'd rather ..."

"Keep them," she said, a little firmer. "Because I want you to have them in your drawer at home, and every time you play with Phoebe or whoever and think you need to beat them to make them cry, or abuse them to feel dominant or just behave like an irresponsible jackass, I want you to put them on." I sighed at her, and she shrugged. "I've started your education. It's up to you to keep learning. A good lover will never stop trying to learn. I had you in tears today several times but I haven't left a single mark. Don't forget that!"

How could I?