The Mistress and Her Justice Ch. 04bykelmag©
Copyright 2008. All rights reserved.
This material may not be reprinted or posted on any other internet site without the expressed written consent of the author.
The rear cargo doors squeaked as they swung open. He felt the van bounce slightly as Marisa stepped up into the cargo bay. He listened carefully but heard nothing for several seconds. His heart was in his throat as he waited for the next sound. Would he even hear another sound or was he going to be shot right through the box and tossed into some ravine for the coyotes to eat.
He nearly jumped out of his skin at the loud "Crack" of the lid's locking bolt being thrown. Suddenly, the lid was open and he felt the rush of fresh air hit him. He felt a shiver go through him as suddenly he was cold, the blast of fresh air hitting his sweat soaked torso.
Although his eyes were still closed, he sensed light. He tried to open his eyes but his blink reflex would not allow it with pools of sweat still sitting in his eye sockets. He moaned through the ball gag, the sharp stabs in his left arm killing him as feeling in it continued to return. He shook his head to clear the sweat from his eyes and started to turn to get himself face up.
"Just lay still John, listen carefully and obey immediately. You will be out of the box shortly. You know what to expect next. Follow the routine to the letter or there will be terrible punishment. Now, pull your knees back so I can get to your leg irons."
Marisa was all business as she unlocked and removed his leg irons, replacing them with thick, leather ankle cuffs separated by an eighteen inch chain. She grabbed him under the armpits and told him to sit up, helping his weak effort by leaning back, pulling him up with surprising strength. She quickly fitted a black rubber blindfold over his eyes, tightening it in back with straps through a buckle like swimming goggles.
"Okay John, now the fun part - getting you out of the box. You are going to lean your head and upper chest out of the box, get your feet under you as best you can, fall forward out of the box and roll over. I have a pad down on the floor of the cab and will help guide you out. Now, Move It!"
Judge Reynolds obeyed immediately, wanting like hell to get out of that coffin-like box just as quickly as he could before she changed her mind. He leaned over, scrambled to get his legs under him, thrust himself up and over the edge of the box and then ducked his head to absorb the force of the fall with his shoulder. As she had said, there was a thick pad on the floor to absorb most of the force. He was out and sprawled on the pad in a moment.
"Okay John, we are half way home. Now, to get yourself out of the van, lift yourself up off the pad while on your back, use your hands to lift yourself and crab walk yourself towards the exit with your feet. I'll guide you."
The Judge pushed down hard with his bound hands and managed to get his ass up off the pad. His left arm was still weak and tingling but he wanted out of the van so badly that he compensated sufficiently with his right hand to accomplish the task. Slowly, with short, crab-like steps, he moved towards the open rear doors. He collapsed a few times, but after each failure, got himself back up and went a little further. He managed to get his legs, up to mid calf, dangling out of the rear opening.
"C'mon you fat slug, inch yourself the rest of the way out or I'll have to take matters into my own hands," Marisa said.
The Judge took a few labored breaths and inched his legs out, balanced himself momentarily on the edge with his butt and then slid his feet to the ground, lifting his torso out and standing up on very shaky legs. He leaned heavily against the back of the van for balance and support as he tried to orient himself in the total darkness of his blindfolded eyes.
"Okay John, now use your feet to slip off your tennis shoes. You won't need them anymore."
He slipped one shoe off, nearly falling over even though he was leaning heavily on the van. He caught and righted himself before using his bare foot to slip the other one off. The ground was cool and damp under his feet. It felt like rough concrete or cinder blocks.
"John, I'm going to take your elbow and guide you. Follow along and remember you have a short chain between your ankles so take small steps."
Despite the warning, John almost fell over with the first step, his leg being unexpectedly stopped short by the chain. He stumbled but with Marisa's help, righted himself. He took short, shuffling little steps, almost hopping a bit to stay with Marisa. He felt the texture of the floor change from rough cinder block to something cool and smooth like polished stone or tile.
"Stop right here and turn around."
John obeyed instantly, making his half turn carefully with the small chain connecting his ankles. He felt Marisa grasp his wrists, pull them out a little and then undo the the clip holding the manacles to his mid section leather belt. She smoothly clipped them to something else behind him. He leaned back and felt a metal ring and then felt the smooth sides of the wall in which the ring was embedded. She must have also slipped off her shoes because he did not hear her recede, only realizing she had taken several steps away when he heard a metallic scrapping sound. Again, he did not hear her steps, jumping a little when he felt her touch on his arm.
"We're going to get rid of these trousers now and see what you've got."
Before he had a chance to respond to that news, he felt something cool and metallic slide along his left leg under the pant leg. He felt Marisa tug on the trouser leg, pulling it taut. He then heard the sound of shears cutting through the material all the way up to his waist band. In a moment, he felt the shears cutting through the material on his right pant leg. With the last snip, the trousers were snatched off him in one quick movement, leaving his pale, shaky body fully exposed.
He felt a chill as a breeze from an overhead cooling vent blew across his sweaty back and chest. He shivered slightly and suddenly his legs felt so weak and rubbery he thought he was going to faint. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself.
Marisa stepped around in front of him and raised the shears to his chest. She cut the air once with a slow, menacing audible stroke and then brought the tip of the closed shears to his sternum, making a small dent in the skin.
The Judge flinched at the first touch of cold, hard steel against his chest, sharply sucking in his breath. His rising chest caused the tip of the shears to press harder into his chest. She brought the tip to his right nipple which had grown hard under the cool breeze. She circled the tip around it, watching him flinch again in response. She repeated the motion with his left nipple, getting less of a reaction until she opened the shears with a distinct "Shhhhtkk" and ran the razor sharp intersection of the blades lightly around his pebble hard nipple, causing him to jerk back. He was now visibly shaking.
Marisa paused with the opened shears around his left nipple, watched the sweat roll down the side of is face. Impulsively, she stuck out her tongue and caught a few drops, lightly licking the point of his jaw. She closed the jaws of the shears just slightly, pinching his nipple and just breaking the rough skin of his hard nub.
"Flinch again and you lose it little man. I'll make you a titless freak."
John stopped breathing and tried to get hold of himself to stop the shaking but with the cool air blowing on him he just couldn't stop the involuntary shivers. A single bead of dark red blood grew from his pinched nipple and rolled half way down his rib cage before pink as it mixed with his sweat.
Marisa smiled very broadly, removed the open shears from his nipple, brought her mouth down to his hardened nub and licked it with the tip of her tongue before sliding her "O" shaped lips around it and sucking hard, tasting the salty, metallic fluid. John shifted his weight trying to draw back from the hard suction but she held him in place clamping her teeth down on the nipple and sucking hard. She released him and straightened back up.
Marisa opened and closed the shears slowly and deliberately once, then twice, each time with a distinctive "Shhhhhtk," before moving them back to his chest, blades widely opened, with the blunt outside of the bottom blade resting on his chest, tips pointed down.
Again, he flinched at the first touch of cool metal on his sweat covered chest but caught himself. She drew them down slowly, lower blade riding over his slick sternum and round belly down to his belly. She paused briefly and then continued to run the blade downward, closing the blades with a loud "Shhhhhhhhhtk," just as the cold blades ran alongside his shriveled scrotum cutting only a few stray hairs but getting a loud gasp from the judge as though she had actually cut his flesh. Marisa couldn't contain her laughter as she watched the judge jump and quiver.
Marisa grew quiet again, very quiet. There was a long pause and then she took the pink, mushroom shaped head of his dick between her thumb and forefinger and firmly rolled it around a bit, getting the feel of him and letting him know in no uncertain terms who was in charge.
Without warning she suddenly gripped down hard on it and stretched it out, instantly doubling the length of his flaccid member as she ran the blunt side of the open lower shear over the middle of it and slammed the shears shut with a loud "SHHHHHTKK."
The Judge nearly jumped out of his skin thinking she had just cut his dick off. It took a moment before it registered that he felt no pain and that the shears closed above not on his manhood. He suddenly lost all equilibrium, felt his knees turn to jelly and collapsed knees first on the hard, smooth floor. The collapse was stopped short by his cuffed wrists attached to the metal ring in the wall so the fall went no further than his knees.
He could hear Marisa laughing uncontrollably as he fought to clear his head and get strength back into his legs. He felt his arms jerked nearly out of their sockets by the ring holding his wrists fast to the wall behind him. He fought to regain his balance and get his weight back on his knees to relieve the awful, twisting pain in his shoulders. He managed to get his balance back and leaned back towards his heels to relieve the pressure on his shoulders.
"What's the matter John? Thought I cut off your little weeny? Haaaa Ha Ha! Not yet little man . . . not yet. We want you intact . . . at least for now. Now Get Up! On Your Feet!"
The Judge struggled to obey, leaning back further, curling his toes up to get the balls of his feet on the ground and then pulling himself back by his arms until his feet were nearly flat on the floor. Squatting now on his haunches, he shifted his feet a little for balance and then rose, straining at first to get his bulk started up. As he locked his knees to stiffen his legs, Marisa grabbed his balls and gave them a slight squeeze just to let him know that the "fun" was just beginning.
The Judge winced at the squeeze and continued breathing heavily, struggling to get enough air into his nostrils to sustain himself. His beach ball shaped belly rose and fell with his rapid respiration. He spread his legs to improve his balance but was stopped short by the hobble chain between his leather ankle cuffs. He thought back to the instructions and tried to remember what was next. It just occurred to him when the first blast of cold water hit his chest.
Wash down . . . the next step is a thorough wash down to get the sweat off of me and present a clean body to the Mistress. God, I didn't realize the water would be so cold. It's freezing. They could have at least warmed the water a little.
He felt the stiff brush rake across his chest and the squirt of liquid soap as Marisa washed him down with a garden hose and shower brush. She moved it quickly under his arms, lathering him up, then swiftly worked down his arms and sides, across his ample belly and down to his crotch.
She scrubbed his pubic area, holding his cock and balls with her other hand, working the brush over the top, around the sides and under his genitals. Marisa went around behind him, scrubbed his neck, back and sides, then spread his ass cheeks widely with one hand as she ran the brush deeply into his crack with the other.
She finished with his legs and feet and then stepped back around to his front and rinsed him clean with strong, stinging blasts of cold water from the hose. Suddenly, the stinging stopped and he heard only the sound of water dripping from his drenched body to the tile floor and drain below.
He strained to hear something. She moved very quietly on bare feet so he couldn't tell where she was at any given time until she initiated contact, which was just want she wanted. She liked to see him jump. And jump he did when he felt her hand close around his cock and balls and yank them straight out from his groin.
She held him like that for a few moments, letting him wonder what was going to happen next. When she had milked the moment for all it was worth, she slipped the open jaws of a slim metal ring around the base of his genitals and closed it, one half of the semi-circle fitting inside the other like a handcuff.
He heard the soft, metallic clicks as the ring was ratcheted tighter and tighter, squeezing the base of his dick at its root. He hopped a little as she squeezed it, not knowing when she would stop. Finally, he heard one more click and then it stopped. He felt his cock stiffen and stand up as the trapped blood had no where else to go.
"Well, you do have a dick after all. You just needed a little help to inflate it. Looks kind of cute now - kinda small but with a nice shape."
He felt a little tickling sensation as she reached under his balls with one hand and clipped a leash to the cock ring. She passed the leash under his crotch and stepped around behind him, tugging his genitals behind him.
"Step back a bit little man, I want to unhook your wrists from the wall."
He shuffled a couple of small steps back. She lifted his hands up a bit and unhooked the handcuff chain from the wall ring, quickly reattaching it to the rear "d" ring in his mid-section belt. She yanked down hard on the leash.
"On Your Knees!"
It felt like his dick was nearly ripped off by the sudden jerk and he responded immediately, dropping down heavily on his knees to relieve the strain. He felt a brush running through his hair as she slicked back his wet, unruly, gray mop. With his hair tightly brushed back, he felt the straps of his blindfold being loosened and then pulled off. The sudden burst of light blinded him. In an instant, he felt something being pulled down over his head.
It was a leather hood cut full in the sides and back, running down to his neck, but only covering half of his face, like a "Batman" mask. He heard and felt the zipper moving down the side, closing the hood. Before he could get his eyes open and adjusted to the light, he felt the blindfold being refitted over the eye holes of the mask and pulled tightly with straps behind his head. He was again in utter darkness.
Okay, this is where the instructions ended. Now what?! What are they going to do with me??! When will I meet Mistress Katrina? Stay calm. Do what she says. Don't resist. Don't resist. Just let go. Let go, he thought to himself..
He felt a sudden upward jerk on his leash and immediately rose without verbal instruction.
"Good. You're learning John. Now just follow your dick and you'll be okay."
She yanked on the leash again pulling his dick straight out. He stepped forward, again stumbling a bit as he forgot about the hobble chain, but he caught himself. He continued to walk in small, half steps as she kept pressure on the leash. He felt the pressure from the leash shift to the right, tugging his dick in that direction so he pivoted and stepped off in that direction.
"Good. I think you might be trainable John."
Mistress Katrina watched the show from the fifty inch projection monitor in her dungeon below and couldn't help smiling. It had gone perfectly. Exactly as planned. No complications; no screw ups. And she had him. She had dreamed of this moment for so long . . . so long. First she'd have some fun with him. After all, she was entitled. He'll think it's just a session, like the one with Harold, but better, more erotic. I'll take him just to the edge, and then . . . .
She watched the video as her dear Marisa marched the judge along by his dick, heeling like a dog and moving in step with her every silent tug of the leash. Katrina was dripping wet as her warm, oily cunt juices soaked her panties. She was incredibly aroused by the sight of the Judge shambling along behind Marisa, stiff dick held out straight from his body. She watched his fleshy tits and ass jiggle as he struggled to keep up with her striding assistant.
Oh, I have plans for you Judge Reynolds, such plans. You are mine now . . . for this afternoon . . . for this evening . . . forever. I have you and I'm going to enjoy every sweet moment of your torment. Measure for measure - payment is due . . . long overdue.
She checked her video console and bank of monitors to make sure all of the angles she wanted covered were working properly. She squeezed her thighs together and got that zing of pleasure she wanted from her swollen clit. She hadn't felt like this in a long time - almost out of control with lust, she wanted to jump his flabby body now and do it to him.
She wanted that delicious pressure deep in her cunt as she spread him wide and fucked him with impossibly deep, powerful strokes. She wanted to ram it into him to the hilt as she came all over him. She took a few deep breaths to keep control of herself. She watched as Marisa led him into the elevator and closed the door.
They'll be here in a few moments. Get yourself ready honey. It's Showtime!
She heard the elevator door open and saw Marisa come out first, followed by the Judge, hands bound behind his back, walking in short, hopping little steps to keep pace with her; the short hobble chain bouncing and jangling lightly as he went. Marisa slowed and then stopped by a white marker on the floor. She yanked down hard on the leash. John immediately dropped to his knees. She tugged forward lightly on the leash.
"Stay on your knees and move up about a foot."
The judge crept forward on his knees until they touched a white line on the floor unseen by his blindfolded eyes.
She knelt down and unhooked his hobble chain from both ankle cuffs, tossing it aside.
"Spread Your Knees! Wide!"
He obeyed instantly sliding his knees apart on the smooth concrete floor. As soon as his right leg got far enough out, she grabbed his ankle and attached his ankle cuff to a metal ring embedded in the floor. She stood up and put her bare right foot against the inside of his left knee and kicked it outward.
"I Said Spread 'Em"
John slid his left knee out as far as he could. She grabbed his left ankle and attached its leather cuff to a floor ring. He heard nothing for a few moments and then a scraping sound as Marisa brought over a low standing, narrow, leather covered bench and pushed one end of it against his lower back.
"Lean back. Lie down on the bench."
With his knees still on the floor and his legs held wide apart, John tentatively leaned back, feeling the bench end against his lower back. He lowered himself, slowly at first and then with a "plop" as his underdeveloped stomach muscles gave up and let go. He felt a leather strap being pulled up between his right arm and body, pulled tightly across his chest and cinched down on the other side. Ominously, he then felt a cold, metal band being slipped around his throat and pulled down tightly across his throat just above his Adam's Apple. It was not tight enough to cut off his air, but it was snug and he knew it would not take much more tightening to strangle him.