THE MISTRESS

By IAN 2411

There were racks of floggers and quivers of canes.
But there was nothing bland and nothing plain.
They were all lined up ready to do their work.
And all the slaves knew that the instruments hurt.
There were shining cuffs and bonds of leather.
And there were long ropes for tying limbs together.
Straps and harnesses were there to be used.
All held the slaves bodies when they were abused.

A slave was standing with his face to the wall.
He was waiting in fear for his Mistress to call.
He was looking around with only his eyes.
He was getting a thrashing for telling her lies.
Her punishment was brutal and her temper was fast.
The slave started to wonder if he would last.
There was the sound of her footsteps coming down the stairs.
The other slaves were standing around in pairs.

He heard the door open and then close with a slam.
The slave started to shake, with his teeth closed tight like a clam.
His breathing was heavy and his heart beating loud.
He begged for mercy in front of the crowd.
His shouts were dismissed as they fell on deaf ears.
There was none in her face, all except for the sneers.
He was standing alone, his mind drifting away.
Hoping he’d live through the pain that was coming his way.

The slaves that were standing now watched the Mistress walk by.
No one had dared to look her straight her in the eye.
Their eyes were fixed firmly facing down to the ground.
No one dared move a muscle until the Mistress turned around.
She shouted out loud, lift your heads up and see.
How I punish a slave for lying to me.
His back will be bloody and ripped to a shred.
After twenty strokes of the cat, he will wish he were dead.

The Mistress went to the wall and took down the whip.
And she carried it back, held low by her hip.
There was no expression, on the Mistresses face.
And she gave him five lashes, hard and with pace.
His screams could be heard above the sound of the whip.
And when she stopped for a break, his blood started to drip.
The slaves were in fear that the young man would die.
And some of the slaves had tears in their eye.


They counted five more strokes, and the slaves back was red raw.
They all heard his screams as she gave him five more.
The face of the Mistress was twisted and mean.
Like the face of a gargoyle and the worst ever seen.
She gave him the remainder on the cheeks of his ass.
His flesh ripped to pieces as if cut with some glass.
She turned to the others and said with a sneer.
Don’t ever tell me lies or you will all end up here.
The Mistress sits supreme in her domain you will learn.
And if you mess with her power, it will be your back that will burn.
So give her respect and tell her no lies.
Otherwise just like the slave, you will have more than tears in your eyes.



Regards ian 2411