Sunday, June 18, 2017

Dolores

I knew I was in for a rough night when Master put on his black fedora and called me Dolores.  The fact that he was holding a machete didn't help.

He'd been reading my old diaries and wanted to know why, in November of 1988, I had gone to a movie with "Teddy".  I told him I didn't remember any "Teddy".  He put me on my knees, hit me hard as I knelt in front of him.  The machete is dulled at the edges, but as a tool for beating is very painful, with no give at all.  He asked me why I had held hands with this Teddy person at the movie, why my hand had made it's way into Teddy's pants during the movie.  Why I had fucked this other guy when I was supposed to belong to and be faithful to my Master.  

He still called me Dolores. 

 I denied everything.  I sobbed.  I didn't know any Teddy, or go to any movie with anyone.  I couldn't remember anything about 1988, for Christsake.  The knife really hurt though, and he kept hurting me relentlessly until I admitted seeing a movie with Teddy, holding his cock in my hand, letting him fuck me afterward.  I confessed to everything, folding like a napkin until the torture of that heavy knife.

Later on, after he'd fucked me and given me powerful orgasms, I cuddled up to him in bed.  My mind confused by pain, exhaustion, subspace and Nyquil, I asked him timidly,

"There was no Teddy, really, was there?" 



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