Dose of Maya Ch. 09

Chapter 9: Let's Play a Game

Joe scrubbed the plate at the sink. It was a Saturday and ten days had passed since the reward. The dishes had been piled up, he didn't clean since last night. He was alone in the house. His mistress went out and hadn't returned since the morning. It was a horrible feeling, not being within the reach of his mistress. That feeling came to him every night when he leaves the mistress' house. He often had nightmares of his mistress leaving him, and that's why he was afraid of being alone without her. He took another dish to clean, and he realized the soap was finished. He washed his hands and dried them on his apron.

He was naked except for his apron and underwear beneath it. His back was littered with red streaks. The apron was filled with flower designs. "Since you like flowers so much, I got you this," his mistress had said to him. He felt he was so lucky to have such a considerate mistress. 'Yes, my mistress punishes me. But that is hardly her fault. It is me who makes mistakes and falls into all the trouble,' he thought. This was also not his first gift from her. A few days back, she handed him two pairs of knee braces. They had a great impact on his kneeling.

He got on all fours and crawled to the laundry room, that's where the supplies were. His brain hadn't tried to defy the authority of his mistress over him. That resistance was all but over. But it sometimes nudged him to take rest, it was more of self-preservation than an act of defiance. Like now, it told him not to crawl, and that his mistress would be happy if he gets the work done faster. He ignored all of it, he was committed to complete submission. So, he crawled to that room. The pleasure filled him.

He finished cleaning the dishes and hung his apron in the kitchen. He walked to inspect his work. He always crawled when he was working, and walked when he was not. He didn't know why he did that. He looked around the living room, and it looked clean. He walked into her bedroom, and that looked good too. He opened the closet doors and sauntered in. He was particularly proud of his work here. He spent almost all afternoon here. He picked up random shoes and inspected them. He brought them closer to his face to look for any missed strains. If he found any, he'd lick them off. He smelled the shoe when he was done with the inspection, they didn't smell that much but they had some traces of her scent. The pleasure climbed up. When he was about to pick up another pair, he heard a click at the door. He ran. In that moment of panic, all the pleasure had left him. In a moment, he was at the door and he could see that it was almost open. He quickly reached it dropping to his knees with a thud. His mistress might've seen that in rapid succession, she jumped and let out a mild yelp.

"Fuck," she said and quickly closed the door, "You could've hurt your knees." It did hurt. He wasn't even thinking about the pain. He was ashamed that he had startled his mistress. He thought, 'My mistress is so kind that she is thinking about my pain and not about the pain I've caused her now.'

"I'm sorry, mistress." She slowly smiled, 'Even though she is concerned about my pain, she likes it when I'm in pain,' he thought. Pleasure returned to him. He bent down and kissed her boots. "Welcome home, mistress."

When he got to his knees, she threw her coat over him covering his face. He quickly got it off his field of vision. She was pulling off her leather gloves, and she looked majestic. She was dressed in leather pants, a black top, and knee-length boots with short heels. He smiled at her holding her coat in his hands. She slapped him with her gloves and dropped them in his hands. The slaps didn't hurt him at all. She snapped her fingers and pointed to her back, "Get them," she said and walked off. He didn't notice the shopping bags at the door while he was watching his majestic mistress. He hung her coat near the door. He took the bags, one of them was her hand bang, and walked to her. She was waiting on the couch. He put all the shopping bags on the table and walked into her room with only her gloves and handbag. He put them on the bed and went back to her.

He knelt at her feet, and he felt a pain in his knees. She ignored him while she was looking through her phone. After a few minutes of waiting, she put her phone down and grabbed a bag. He felt the pleasure rush when she revealed the contents of that bag. It was a dog collar. She signaled him to come forward. He made his neck available to her.

She put the collar around his neck and asked, "Is that tight enough?"

"Yes, mistress," he answered. It was not that tight but he was afraid that would be hard for breathing. His mistress seemed sad, 'She knows it,' he thought. So, she found the next hole and buckled it up. She slid her fingers in between his neck and the collar and gave him a disappointed look. He felt ashamed. She held the collar tightly and pulled him to her.

"You lied?" she said softly.

"I was afraid it would be too tight, mistress."

"Does it matter?" she said, "What will you do if I try to strangle you with this collar?"

"I would thank you, mistress."

"Then why lie to me?" he felt the disappointment in her voice shredding him to his bare bones. He put his head down and apologized.

"You always apologize and make a mistake again," she said, "But this is a bad mistake. You know you can't lie to me, right?"

"Yes, mistress," he was almost on the verge of tears. He could take her anger but not her disappointment.

"Tsk, tsk," she shook her head, "A slave will only learn from punishments," she finished. He felt his back stiffen. He could feel the pain in those red strokes on his back. She hardly called him by his name. It was always 'Slave.'

"Yes, mistress," he agreed with her and looked up at her to see her smile. He didn't like the pain, but he also didn't hate it because his mistress enjoyed seeing him writhe in pain.

"Go get the crop," she ordered.

He ran into the closet and took the crop. Holding it sent shivers down his spine. He remembered the day she bought it, it was the day he was gifted with knee braces. They were not exactly a gift, the payment was the pain. She tested the crop on him. She beat him senseless that day. He screamed and yelled as he writhed in pain. He bellowed and pled for her mercy. All those only fell on his mistress' numb ears. She continued beating him. As a last resort, he shed tears. But he remembered tears were not safe words. There were no safe words, and it was he who begged to get rid of them. Now the moment this situation got too hot, he was thinking of safe words. He felt ashamed there. If he wanted her to stop, it only meant that he was greedy for her feet. When the safe words were in his way, he removed them and now, he wanted them again. That was not honor. That was not complete submission. He remembered at that moment his mistress' words, 'You're the bravest man I know.' That restored his confidence. He would be brave. He stopped crying and took it like a brave man. He remembered all that and shoved the fear down. He took the crop and ran to his mistress.

He saw her sitting on the couch, cross-legged. He bent down on the table and raised his hands in the air. He was offering the crop that was in his hands. She sat there looking at him for a minute. The pain was creeping into his shoulders. Finally, she took the crop from his hands and stood up.

"Bend from the other side of the table," she said.

He did so. She walked around the table. He realized why she wanted that. Because she would have more space for her legs and more room for the swing. Before he settled himself, he felt pain in his back. He screamed and heard her laugh.

"Lay your hands on the table and put your face forward," she said.

He put his chin down on the table and looked ahead. He could see the lower half of her body and the crop. He laid his hands flat, palms down, on the table.

"Bring them near to your face," she said. He pulled his hands back slowly. She put her foot on his hand when his hand was near his face. She tapped his hand with her boot twice, "Good."

He was mere inches away from her boot. If he just pushed his head forward, he could smell the leather. She moved her boot, so that her heel would be on his hand, and started grinding her boot on it. He grimaced at the pain and heard her giggle. Before he could recover from the pain in his hand, he felt another hit on his back. He yelled. She laughed.

"Now, after every hit, you'll kiss my boot." He found himself nodding. He waited for a hit, and it didn't come. He could only feel the pressure of her heel on his hand. He realized why the hit was late. So, he bent further and kissed her boot. He felt the boot twisting and increase in pain.

"I've told you, for every hit you'll have to kiss," she said, "I count two lashes and only one kiss." He kissed her boot immediately.

SMACK. Third Kiss.

"Now that we're done with housekeeping. Your punishment is ten lashes." He was surprised that the punishment is so low.

SMACK. Fourth kiss.

"How many are done?" she asked.

"Fo...," he yelped in pain.

SMACK. Fifth kiss.

"Five, mistress," he answered. She twisted her heel on his hand again. His knuckles were in so much pain. She only laughed seeing him wince. 'Pain is pleasure,' he thought. The pleasure in him increased.

SMACK. Sixth Kiss.

"Will you lie to me again?" she screamed. He was terrified and ashamed.

"No, mistress. I will never lie to you again."

SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.

Seventh Kiss. Eighth Kiss. Ninth Kiss.

Apart from the first hit, the lashes were not as painful as before. He could feel that his mistress was holding back. But the boot on his hand was painful.

SMACK. Tenth Kiss.

"If you ever lie to me again, punishment would be harsher." She exulted more pressure on his hand. He opened his mouth to scream and no sound came. The pain only increased with her every word. "It will not be the lashes next time," she took her boot off his hand and put it down. He opened his eyes to see her leaning in his face. He gulped at her angry face. "I'll dump you," she said.

He jerked back in shock. He fell to her feet and started kissing her boots. He felt the tears running down his face. He said, gasping and choking, "Please don't leave me, mistress. This slave wouldn't survive without you. I will never lie, please don't leave me. Please don't leave this slave." She kicked his face. He got to his knees. She kicked him in the stomach again.

"Next time," she leaned down and said, "Remember."

He stayed there, crying his eyes out. She brought her hand over his head and patted him. Even though she was treating him like a dog, he felt relieved. She smoothed his hair.

"Don't worry," she said like she was talking to a child, "The owner will only abandon his dog because it has become naughty. That means I'll not abandon you unless you become naughty. That means you'll have to follow me and do as I say. And do not lie to me. Okay?" He looked at her and nodded. His cries subsided.

"Do you want to be my pet dog?" she asked.

"Yes, mistress," he answered. "Your slave will be honored to be your pet dog,"

She took a leash out from the bag and attached it to his collar. She dropped her hand into the loop on the other side. And she pulled him to the couch, sat down, and crossed her legs. He knelt there.

He touched his collar, admiring it. He forgot the horrifying words of his mistress. He felt like he was a pet to her. She was looking at her phone. She held his leash at her wrists in a loop. She tugged on his leash as she laughed.

"Does my slave like being my doggie?" she asked.

"Yes, mistress," he answered. "Your slave like being your pet dog," She laughed again.

"Then why is my dog kneeling idly?" she asked, "Its owner came from outside with filthy boots. Why is my ungrateful dog not cleaning its owner's boots?"

"I'm sorry, mistress. Your pet dog didn't realize this." He bent down to her boots and started lapping. His mistress ordered him to lick her boots. Even though she had said that as if it was his duty, to him it felt like a reward. A thought occurred to him, 'If I am in collar every time she comes from outside, I can lick her shoes.' He continued licking her boots and she completely ignored him. He licked both boots. Then, she made him lick the soles too. It was the hardest part to clean. It was a gift to clean them. He was in total pleasure while doing all this. After cleaning her boots, he just stayed there.

__________

Maya ate her food while Joe was kneeling beside the couch. He wore knee braces on his knees. She gifted him those, not exactly a gift. A trade. Pain for pain. She gave him pain for reducing pain in the future. She was looking through his brain all evening to learn how he was responding.

She felt happy with the response. He felt that same pleasure with every humiliation he faced this evening. He was in pleasure when she came. He was in pleasure when she beat him. He was in pleasure when she collared him. He was in pleasure when she called him a dog. He was in pleasure when she made him lick her boots. But she wanted to test more. One more humiliating thing that she hadn't done to him.

An instant idea came to her. 'Would I really do it? I've done worse,' she thought. She made him lick her boots, who knows what filth those boots carried. She made up her mind. He hadn't brought tissues to the table. So, she could cover it as an accident and make it seem like his fault rather than her deliberate action.

She took a spoon of fried rice with a small hot pepper in it and put it in her mouth. She pushed the pepper to the other side and only chewed the rice. She acted as if she bit something hot, breathing with her mouth, and fanning it with her hand.

"Tissue?" she asked. He looked around to see if there was one. There wasn't one. He was about to get up to get them. She grabbed his chin and pulled him to her, "No time. Open your mouth. You can throw it away," she said and looked into his brain. The pleasure center lit up with his realization of what was happening. She spat the chewed food into his mouth. She didn't let go of him as she saw the pleasure it caused him. She wanted to do more. She gathered a chunk of saliva this time and spat it into his mouth. The amount of pleasure only increased.

She released him and picked up a glass of water. He was about to get up and probably spit it out. She was aroused, and she wanted him to swallow it. She would make him swallow it.

"Would my dog really spit its owner's gift of food?" she asked.

"No, mistress," he said with a load in his mouth. That made her smile.

"Chew it and swallow." He started chewing and winced. She knew he chewed on that hot pepper. She sipped some water. He was looking at the water longingly.

"Is it hot?" she asked, and he nodded but didn't stop chewing. "That is the punishment for not putting a tissue here."

"I'm sorry, mistress." He mumbled.

"Does my dog want some water?" she asked. She took another gulp and rinsed her mouth with it.

"Yes, mistress. This dog begs for some water," he said. She hooked her index finger and signaled him to come closer. He did. She caught his neck, and he opened his mouth hungrily. She hovered over his open mouth for a moment, and the water slowly spilled from her partly open mouth into his. She held up her finger, letting him know not to drink it. He stayed still as the water almost filled his whole mouth. She moved her hair back and decided to spit. A glob of spit started collecting at the edge of her lips stretching the seconds longer, and she looked into his eyes savoring every moment of this. And the glob of spit fell with enormous speed making a soft splash in the water. She could see her spit floating above the water. She made him wait for a few more seconds enjoying the erotic sight before snapping her fingers. He gulped them in quickly. She wanted to do it again as she saw his joyful face. But this time, she wanted to do it not because she didn't have a tissue to use or not even because she sipped the last gulp of water and he needed it. She wanted to do it because she just wanted to spit in his mouth. She pulled open his mouth and spat into it again. He just gulped it down without any protest, as expected.

And she ate peacefully.

Maya felt sleepy. The day had been exhausting, and her feet ached in those boots. It had been two hours since came home. She could've taken them off at any moment but she wanted to give them to Joe, damp and stinky. 'What sacrifices I do for the happiness of my slave?' she thought. He was cleaning the dishes.

"My slave is staying here tonight." She liked calling him a slave. She was wet when she called him, 'it.'

"Yes, mistress," he said, "Where will I be sleeping, mistress?" he asked. He seemed excited. She looked into his brain, and he was happy. She waited before she could answer.

'He remembered that,' she thought. That day when she explained the possibilities of living with her. 'Okay, I will let him sleep there.'

"Would this slave be sleeping today, mistress?" he asked, "Or my mistress wants her slave to massage her feet all night, mistress?" He was happy and afraid.

'That was tempting and arousing,' she thought, 'But doesn't make any sense.' She would have no rational way to make sure he would massage her feet all night. If she somehow finds a way, she wouldn't expect him to last all night. If he surpasses her expectation and stays up all night, she would have half a slave to serve her tomorrow. It was a lose-lose situation. It was a lot to give up for a supposed pleasure she wouldn't even know she felt it.

"No, my slave would be sleeping in his rightful place, with my shoes. That means, in the closet." She always implied first and explained it again. She wanted him to think that he doesn't need to think.

"I'm grateful, mistress."

"Now, I will not provide you a pillow for your head," she said and looked down at her boots, "Instead, I'll give you my socks." He was delighted.

She snapped her fingers and pointed at her feet. He started running towards her. He stopped when she glared at him. He slid down to his knees and crawled. He took her boots off. She made him smell the boots. He also said her favorite line, 'They smell like flowers and sunshine.' It always made her fluster. 'What even is a smell of sunshine?' she thought.

She told him to put them in the closet and come back. She walked to the stairs and climbed up three steps. She waited for him, and she heard him running. Just as he was about to go past her, she caught his leash. He reeled back to see her standing on the fourth step. She pushed her foot forward through the side railings. He knelt and kissed her socked foot. She shifted his leash to hold it over the railing. "Smell it," she said and started observing his brain. She wasn't manipulating him anymore, not as much as she used to. She was just looking to see how he was reacting. She could see the pleasure center already lighten up. The moment he got his nose to her socks, the pleasure was only growing, and he felt happy. He took in deep breaths, it aroused her too. After letting him smell both socks, he dragged him to the front by his leash.

___________

Joe was on all fours, at the foot of the stairs. His mistress stood a few feet away from him on the stairs, holding his leash in one hand and the crop in the other.

"Come, slave," she said, "Kiss your owner's feet." He crawled up and started kissing. His mistress got her foot under his chin. She made him look up raising her foot. He pleaded with his eyes for more kissing. She brought her foot up and placed it on his face. He kissed her sole. Before he could do that again, she pushed him down. He tumbled down those few stairs. He laid flat on his back at the foot of the stairs. It didn't hurt that much. Luckily, he didn't get hurt on his head. But his back hurt, compounded by the lashes, it hurt a lot. His elbow was in pain too. He heard footsteps descending the stairs. He opened his eyes to see her laughing, and he ignored his pain.