‘Mistress those handcuffs feel amazing.’
‘You think so little boy? An improvement on your little handcuff toys in your pervy box?’
The smile drains from his face, his hands still covering his little caged dickette.
‘Now little boy why not bend yourself over one of the dining room chairs like a good boy?’
His mouth goes dry as his eyes nervously take in a chair pulled away from the table. He knows that once over it, his cute arse will be stuck up in the air for me.
‘What are you going to do? Mistress.’
The word Mistress is tagged on as an afterthought. His nerves have got the better of him. Eventually, according to the notes, he will use the word Mistress when he addresses me as automatically as breathing.
‘You can only find out when you have obeyed the first instruction. Yes?’
He is staring at the chair and I can tell the last thing he wants to do, is to bend over it. I have spanked him a few times, but always under his direction, for his little games. This time he knows the world has turned full circle. He will be spanked under his Mistress’ direction and it will not be a game.
‘I really think it would be helpful if we sort of chat about all this first, Mistress.’
Again, the word ‘Mistress’ wanders along in its own time, long after the sentence has passed by.
‘Now I did say I would release your little apology for a dick at Friday lunch time?’ He is confused so I continue, ‘Clearly that can only happen to good boys.’
His head snaps around until he is facing me with his reddened cheeks. He doesn’t dare say anything, which makes me dizzy with heat. I pretend I am thinking about the consequences of his naughtiness, though this is all just as I had planned it. ‘So let us say it is now Sunday lunchtime when you will be given release.’
I have to work hard not to laugh out loud. I must keep that serious demeanour. ‘If you are not over that chair by the time I count to three, then it will be Monday lunchtime. Then Tuesday lunchtime. I wonder if I am getting through to you?’
‘Mistress. I just want to say how I feel about …’
‘Look, this is silly.’ He has lost all confidence.
He flops over the chair his cute little bottie facing me. I am a Goddess. Queen of all I survey, which is little Jamie gasping, as the chair back knocks the wind from his tum.
I snatch the handcuffs, feeling their weight and wrap one around his nearest wrist, clicking it shut. I swear, even the clicking of a wrist cuff makes me feel like swooning.
I loop the chain behind the bar running beneath the seat and drag back his free wrist. There is little resistance. Snap. He is locked down. All the time I am speaking, very gently, at an even pace. No need to emphasise anything, I am just saying it exactly how it is.
‘Now my Little Jamie has been very naughty. Stomping about like a toddler early on. All that swearing like a grown man. Really. My Little Jamie needs a lesson in behaviour and manners.’
‘Mistress I …’
‘Just listen for now, little boy.’
His face is so red I could make toast with it.
‘Yes Mistress. May I ask what you are going to do?’
‘No little boy. You can listen and that is all you can do right now.’ I take the lengths of rope and secure each ankle in turn to the chair legs.
Genie sent me a zillion PDFs on tying up a boy. The most important part is to ensure the blood can circulate, so just keep the bonds loose but secure enough so that the boy cannot slip out of them. There is a huge variety of knots but I simply mastered the ‘square knot’ and the ‘lark’s head.’ That is all I need for now, but I was taken by a photo of a delightful young man hog tied by his owner.
‘Bratty behaviour will not be tolerated. Not at all. I don’t expect to hear you swear. I do not expect you to be tiresome with questions either.’
I cinch the rope before taking a belt and pulling it through the chair frame and around his waist, pulling it tight enough to keep him secure in one place. No wriggle room for little Jamie.
Rising I see my helpless hubbie for the first time. Chastity caged, cuffed and bound to a chair awaiting his punishment. Just as importantly he is silent.
‘You will receive 6 lashes of the cane.’
I pause before adding: ‘For each offence.’
I fear he hears me snigger at his astonishment. I must keep control, he must know how serious this is. How he is about to be tugged over a marker in life.
‘Now, that is 6 for behaving like a brat, 6 for questioning me and 6 for swearing.’
Another moan, though he dares not challenge me.
‘After those I will beat you to make a new rule clear.’
‘Mistress please I can …’
I pinch his bottom, giving it a twist as my thumb and forefinger leave his skin. He squeals like the child I want him to be. Twin red marks flush up on his skin.
As he falls silent and quite still, so his breathing becomes shallow. as if listening for what I am about to say next.
This feels wonderful.
I pull out the cane from beneath the sofa and tap it on his taut cheeks, watching him flinch.
‘Now then boy, you are looking forward to being released on Monday lunchtime?’
Another little groan followed by, ‘yes Mistress.’
In your dreams, I think.
‘After each strike of the cane you will say ‘thank you Mistress,’ for me. Got that?’
There is a tremor in his voice. He can’t escape. He is held down and he is mine. Has there even been a more exciting moment in a woman’s life when she hears her hubbie so fully complying with her instructions?
I pat the cane on his exposed bottom and have to catch my breath. If you have read my earlier entries, you will know that the first rule of using a cane is not to beat too hard. Let the cane’s structure inflict the pain.
‘Thank you Mistress.’
I laugh. ‘Silly boy I am just taking aim.’
‘It is supposed to, silly. Ok, here we go.’
I pause out of a sadistic need to watch him hold his breath until he can no longer do so. As he exhales so I swat him. Just a few inch back lift and swish!
He yowls like an animal, his limbs pulling at the chair.
‘Please Mistress, that is too hard!’
I shake my head. ‘Another six, little boy.’
‘I trust you are not swearing?’
‘Only adults are allowed to swear.’
Another whack just above the first. Two perfectly formed purple lines form.
‘Ouch. Thank you Mistress.’
Then a couple on the underside of his bottom, followed by a quick two on his thighs.
I need to steady myself. I am feeling lightheaded and have to recount how many blows I have already delivered. I feel reasonably sure it is only 6, so 18 to go.
After twelve I hit a problem mentioned by the dominant women in their PDFs. James is crying, well sniffling really. As they say, the first time you make your boy cry is a difficult point in the emergence of your dominant side and I am feeling that gnawing pain right now. There is an urge to show clemency, pat his sore bottom and release him. However, all the women say that should not be allowed to happen.
If you show mercy once then they will expect it each time and then grow to loathe you if you don’t.
However, I cannot help but crouch down next to him where I can see real tears on his cheeks. I kiss him, very tenderly and whisper. ‘Be brave little Jamie. Do it for me.’ I kiss him again and I think he mutters ‘yes Mistress.’
When I rise I find myself desperate to grab him, sweep him into my arms and tell him how much I love him. But that is a no-no, well for now anyway. A point has to be made.
When his 24 canings have been completed he is sobbing quite openly, trying to thread one manacled hand up to his cheeks to give them a wipe. His backside is a neat array of red and purple welts, like a plumped up cushion.
‘Now then you have a new rule. Just as I promised you. It is an important rule, so I want you to pay attention.’
‘Yes Mistress,’ he splutters.
‘Do you know what topping from the bottom is?’
‘I think so Mistress. It is when the sub tries to dominate the dom.’
‘Hmm. Well it is a bit more complicated than that.’ I pat his bottom. ‘But good boy for having a guess. It is when the sub seeks to influence the situation. For example, by dropping hints or by trying to be a wise guy and asking for things in a roundabout way.’
He makes a noise to show he understands, but the women all say they have to learn not to top from the bottom. It is ingrained in men’s behaviour to seek control.
‘So, if you are told to do something you don’t want to do then I know you will try to squirm your way out of it.’
‘Please Mistress, I won’t, I …’
I pat his bottom very hard on his stinging swellings, making him wriggle.
‘Be quiet little boy. You don’t know it but you are trying to do so right now. Interrupting me and correcting me.’
He is about to say something but then thinks better of it. Good! Maybe he can learn from a single punishment.
‘Arguing is an attempt to top from the bottom. Questioning is an attempt to top from the bottom.’
‘Also not doing something and hoping the mistress will forget is exactly the same. Avoiding doing something because of some infantile excuse, such as it is raining, or someone might see you or you forget. None of those excuses will wash. They are trying to control the situation.’
‘I see Mistress.’
‘Maybe you do little boy.’ I squat down beside him so I am within inches of his troubled face. ‘If ever I think my little boy is trying to top from the bottom, in any way, and I mean any way, do you know what I am going to do?’
‘Erm, no Mistress.’
‘I will automatically add a week to your time in the chastity cage.’
His eyes close, his head lowers and he emits a long whimper.
Is this how a cute, little animal appears when it is trapped, helpless in the hunter’s cage. The final acceptance of its hopeless fate?
I’m ashamed to say I grip his hair, twist his face around and give my little boy the kiss I have been desperate to deliver since we began. I know I shouldn’t but it gives me a charge through my entire body. If I’m not careful I will unlock him and have him fuck me. As you can imagine, the ladies in the PDFs have strong views on such weakness.
Am I sufficiently strong willed to put Little Jamie in his place? Right now, all I want is my tongue roaming his mouth.