Message-ID: <20141eli$9902220503@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year99/20141.txt> From: np98rb@mail.telepac.pt (Christine & David Stevenson) Subject: The Governor's Wife - part thirteen Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <36d00c6b.64488000@news.ip.pt> Warning: This story is about non-consensual domination. It is fiction, and erotic - despite or perhaps partly because it is non-consensual. - - - - - - - - - - - - cut-here - - - - - - - - - - - - - The Governor's Wife by Victor Bruno Part Thirteen The hair seemed to stand stiff on Frank's head; an icy shaft ran down his spine from the nape of his neck. It was rather like an electric shock. Opening his eyes, Frank saw his Mistress standing at the end of the bed.... eyes blazing, mouth twisted in disgust. But even in that moment of awful shock, such was the strength of Frank's lust, that his hand continued to pump until the last drops had left him. Then his head slumped into the pillow and he moaned like someone under torture. He found himself dribbling on to the pillow-case and felt himself shivering. The aftermath of masturbation was always something of a let-down .... but for it to conclude like this was the equivalent of a crashing fall. "Did you hear me?" Hettie's voice was like a whiplash. "I .... hha .... I aahh .... j-just c-couldn't help it .... M-Ma'am ...." panted Frank. His voice sounded weak; like that of a snivelling boy. "How dare you! How dare you! In my house!" Hettie sounded and looked beside herself with rage. "I'm s-sorry .... I'm sorry, Ma'am," babbled Frank, pushing himself up on the bed. Daggers of dread were knifing through his belly. Oh Christ .... what was she going to do to him. "You .... d-don't under .... understand m-men .... Ma'am ...." "Understand!" Hettie Page almost shrieked the word. "I understand only too well. That's why I spend so much of my time trying to control men's vile habits." Frank's head slumped again and he found himself shivering as if with fever. It was out of sheer terror. He closed his eyes. I just can't take any more, he told himself. Simply not possible. Anything would be better at that moment. What little spirit he'd had he lost with his semen. If she tried anything, he would simply have to disobey her. Resist her indeed. Frank shivered even more, his mind veering panic-stricken away from the consequences. Then a wet flannel hit him squarely in the face. "Clean it all up, you revolting pig," rasped Hettie. "Then come back into my bedroom." Then she was gone as suddenly as she had arrived. Wearily, wincing with pain, Frank scrambled about, wiping the counter-pane and the carpet. He did so through a sheen of tears. Oh how tired he was, how wretched! How Humiliating to be caught out like some schoolboy. Then to have to clear up his own mess. Defeat seemed to rob Frank Lander of what was left of his strength. Only with difficulty could he stand erect. Or partially erect. The pain and tightness across his rump made him crouch like some octogenarian as he half stumbled out of the room. O.K. then, so it would have to be a life sentence.... I just can't take any more pain this evening, Frank told himself. He actually whimpered at the very thought of the cane falling yet again over his agonised flesh. It would be impossible to endure! Frank was almost weeping openly as he staggered back to the bedroom. Now he would be accused of rape when he had not the strength to attempt it! The irony of that was bitter indeed. Hettie, now garbed in a red and white housecoat was seated in an armchair sipping a drink. Frank saw her only hazily. This woman has the power of life and death over me, he thought. In the whole of his existence, no person had remotely controlled him to the extent she did at that moment. It was terrifying to be in the grip of such power. It made one feel so utterly, utterly weak. So submissive .... So grovellingly submissive .... Frank Lander fell to his knees and began to crawl across the room. "Mercy .... Ma'am .... mercy ...." he sobbed. A beatific expression, which Frank could not see, spread across Hettie's face. Then Frank went flat on his belly and began to insinuate himself over the carpet, rather like a snake, at the same time raising his hands imploringly. "Mercy .... Ma'am .... mercy ...." he repeated. The smile on Hettie's face became even more seraphic. She knew when she had a man absolutely defeated. Completely broken. A worm she could grind under her heel any time she wished. And the knowledge was like wine in her veins. One of the pinnacles of pleasure that her sadism drove her up and on to. Exquisite joy! Oh to have such power over a man! She looked down at the whimpering creature at her feet. It was amazing that a youngish man, so well-muscled, so fit and hardened by prison life, could be reduced to such a condition. Yet it was so. And he had been reduced to it by her. Her eyes wandered down to her victim's hindquarters. She smiled faintly. They were a nasty looking sight. Yes .... he would be most tender at that moment. It had been quite a good thrashing; one she had enjoyed very much. Most likely he would never have known anything like that sort of pain before. The pity was, if she gave him any more at that moment, he would probably have to be hospitalised. And she didn't want that. Too many complications. Besides, she wanted him back quite soon. Still.... she could give him something to think about in the meantime. "Mercy .... mercy ...." Frank was still whimpering softly and hopelessly. "Stop that snivelling .... and stand up!" snapped Hettie. "Are you a man or a weakling child?" The remark didn't wound Frank Lander. He didn't really have any more pride left. He forced himself up, however, and, with head hanging a little, stood submissively before his Mistress, conscious of his helpless nudity. But at least his organ was now in a flaccid state .... and likely to remain so for some time. "Have you anything to say, you wanking little shit?" demanded Hettie imperiously. "Only .... only .... M-Mistress .... that I .... I am s-sorry...." whispered Frank. Thinking of Hettie as his Mistress had made him accidentally address her as such. A flicker of a smile crossed her lips at the slip. It was one she could forgive! "I .... I just lost control .... a man .... a m-man ...." "Don't go on telling me about men," intervened Hettie. "You Frank, are going to be one of those men who learns to control himself when he is in my presence ...." "Yes, Mistress .... Ma'am .... yes ...." "Shut up .... and listen!" Hettie smiled briefly again. "However, you are right to address me as Mistress. You will continue to do so in future." "Y-Yes .... Mistress ...." How eager was Frank to please. To submit and obey. Whatever his Mistress demanded. He saw the warning look come to her eyes and bit his lip. He must stay silent. Speak only when spoken directly to. "If you get an erection when attending upon me in future, I shall thrash it out of you. Understand?" "Yes .... Mistress .... y-yes ...." Frank shuddered. How was he going to be able to stop himself? "And, Frank if, when you are in my home," continued Hettie with icy severity, "if you so much as lay a hand on your cock without my express order, I shall make you wish you'd never been born! Is that quite clear, Frank?" "Y-er .... yes .... sss .... M-Mistress ...." Frank experienced the draining weakness of terror. It almost made him lose control of his bowels. He knew that the Governor's wife would be as good as her word. "I'll never .... do that .... again .... Mistress.... " "I don't think you will," said Hettie with a thin smile. "After I have punished you for it." ------------------------------------------------------ The DOMestic digest is free of charge. Subscribe in subject line:- DOMestic@Ms-Christine.com Moderated by David & Christine Stevenson. 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