RJ was enjoying the lazy Sunday afternoon. The snow had shutdown the world and he didn’t really feel like doing anything. He had just started to fully relaz when the phone rang. It was her. It had to be her. No one else would think to call.

“You’ve been getting a little too frisky lately,” she said ominously, “and I think its time to cut you down a few notches. Get dressed and I will be there in twenty minutes.” THen the line went dead. RJ rushed down to the rom and just as he had suspected, she had been there and laid out clothes for the day’s adventures. He hurriedly stripped off his clothes to get ready for her. She didn’t like to be kept waiting.

The figure eight strencher went around his testicles like a vise. She seemed to enjoy it at least. Especially running her fingernails over the skin drawn taught by the leather. And then the leash attachment. Usually she used on only one, but today she wanted both. He put on the red string panties and looked for other underwear, but there was not to be found save the huge bra. And he was afraid.

Usually she would put him in severak pairs of tight underwear and pantyhose–they helped hide the hair and make the proper shape. Unless. Unless, of course, she planned some corporal punishment. A great deal of corporal punishment. The red panties would provide protection from the paddle and the belt–at least for a little while. And he was grateful for all of the protection he could get. The high heels and shoelocks went on next. He didn’t see any keys with them and hoped that she had them with her–otherwise he might be wearing them for quite a long time. The double locking ankle cuffs also went on.

The rubber corset had to be the worst. Usually she allowed him to wear a slinky nightie under it, but this time there was nothing. He surmised the nightie might get in the way of the paddle. The giant white bra went on next and he pulled the skirt over his head before filling the oversized cups. He pulled the short sleeve shirt over his head and was preparing to lock on the padded wrist cuffs–the final part of his ensemble–when he heard her. And she didn’t sound happy.

“You knew the requirement, yet you have chosen to ignore it. When you are ready to obey and take your punishment, you can come find me.” And she walked back out of the room. RJ hurriedly locked on his cuffs and stumbled out after her as fast as the high heels would let him. He cuaght up with her in the living room.

“Five minutes late. I should have expected more. Drop your panties and pull your skirt above your waist.” As RJ was complying with her latest command, he saw the flash of the camera go off. A lovely picture of him bending over and dropping his panties. It went off again as he raised his skirt. Once from the front. And again from the back. She liked to taake pictures of his predicaments, they could come in so handy later. He was glad that she had always handed over the pictures at the end of the session. At least he hoped she had. She might have some that he didn’t know about.

“After keeping me waiting that long, I think if I have to look at your face again, I just might have to beat you senseless.” She looked serious. “But since you haven’t done anything serious enough yet to deserve that level of punsishment, I think I might just take care of the problem.”

RJ’s vision dimmer as he saw her pull a nylon hood out of her bag and over his head. The rubber hood going on after thaat seemed to press the previous covering even tighter. And a blindfold completely shut off his vision. His chin was pushed up as the tall collar was pulled on–and most likely locked. The hoods would not come off unless the collar was removed.

He had a theory about whay she liked the hoods so much. He had a theory about everything that she did. Like he had seen on CSI, the hood allowed he to pretend that he was someone else. The he was just a hunk of meat that deserved everything that she could dish out to him. Perhaps that was even what gave her the strength she needed. She could take out all her frustrations on a nameless, faceless whipping boy.

“We are going to play a little game,” she began. “I will give you one swat with the paddle and you will thank me properly for it. If you fail to thank me properly, two more will be given to you. And so the game will continue.”

“Now, would you like to go outside with me?” RJ’s heart sank at the futility of the question–there was no right answer. If he answered yes, then he would be taken outside with any covering (if any at all) that she decided to give him. Answering no would bring a beratement about his refusal of her nice offer. And probably a hefty punishment too. Which was the rock and which was the hard place he could not tell.

“Yes, I will go,” he heard himself say.

“An excellent choice,” she said smoothly. RJ could feel her put his coat on...It barely fit over his gigantic tits. He figured his shoes could be seen for a mile away, though she wasn’t concerned as she attached the hobble between his ankles and put the short link between his wrists. “We wouldn’t want you runing away, now would we?” Her statement was laughable–but RJ didn’t dare laugh. Run away? He could barely move and couldn’t see at all.

And so they went outside to have a smoke–the fresh air would clear his mind. And they came back in, him following the leach she has attached to his collar.

RJ felt himself being tipped over and object. It must be the back of the couch he thought as his hands ran into some soft fabric. As his own legs were released from the hobble he tried to stand up–and was stopped promptly by his collar. She must have tied the leash off to one of the legs of the couch. His pendulous breasts we hanging free just above the skirt than had been bunched around his waist. Now she seemed ready for pain.

“And now we shall play. You shall thank me properly for each landing of the paddle, or two more shall be added. It may help you to know that I have finally chosen a proper name for myself for you to address me by.”

RJ stiffened. So that was the deal. He knew all of her names, but what combination of them did she want him to use to address her? Miz? Miss? Mistress? Mrs? Or something else? And then there was her first name. Middle name. Married name. Maiden name. How many choices was that? How long would he be beaten? Mistress C. Miz M. Miss B. With all of the permutations running into the hundreds or thousands, he realized this was a game he could not win and he might be bent over this couch for a very long time. While all of this was going though his head, he jumped. The burning fire of the paddle entered though the panties and all other thoughts left his mind. Except one. He still had to say thank you.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“Thank me properly next time. You now have two more coming.” And after a wait, the paddle did indeed strike again.

“Thank you Mistress M.”

“Proper thanks is always required. You are now up to three.” And the paddle came down again. And again. And again. Sometimes staright forward. OIther times from the top. Sometimes with an upswing. It always caught him off guard. Sometimes the next one came immediately. Some times she waited. 30 seconds. A minute. Two minutes. Time really didn’t seem to have meaning. And the paddle kept coming no matter how he thanks her.

“Another wrong answer. Will you ever learn to thank me properly?”

“No, I don’t think so, Mistress”

“You now have 30 more landings to go. I will give you this chance to give up this game if you wish.” Twenty nine landings of the paddle and RJ was getting sore. And heated. But her choices always had consequences. What would she do if he gave up on the game? “Do you choose to give up?”

“What will be the consequences if I give up the game?”

“Another ten strokes have been added for a stupid question. You will do whatever I say you do. Do you choose to give up?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Very well.” RJ raise dup as she loosened the rope holding down his collar. She led him away from the couch. He felt a tug as his panties fell to the floor, revealing a bottom of the same shade. And other tug and he flet his legs split apart as a spreader was attached between them. As she pushed the harness gag between his teeth she began to speak. “Since you ar eno longer interested in guessing, you no longer need to speak. And since I am switching to a different implement the number of stokes has doubled to eighty!” With this sinking in, RJ felt his wrists separated and dragged down to his ankles. He hated to be bending down and grabbing his ankles. It was such a humilaiting position and so painful if she decided to use the paddle again.

Sharp pains entered his groin from clothes pins attached all over. He had no doubt she was buisly snapping pictures of her handiwork. Some of the pins must have ahd weights hanging from them . And they all hurt now, let alone if when they started swinging as the beating would surely continue. And they did start swinging. The leather slapper danced from just above his knees to just below his bunched up skirt. It seemed like many more then eighty blows, But he was not in a condition to count or to stop what was happening. He was just glad when she finally decided to stop and they could go outside for another cigarette. At least she removed the gag for that.

After coming back in, RJ waited in the entry for what was coming next. he didn’t have long to wait as she bent him back over the couch. “I think you’ve had a little too much freedom lately,” she said as he felt a strange pressure at his rear opening.

“An anal plug?”

“I would be quiet before I switch to the biggest one.” She worked the lubed plug back and forth till it finally popped in. It wasn’t the biggest in the collection, but it wasn’t the smallest either. How had she found them?

RJ moved cautiously as she stood him back up. It was a very full feeling. After she pulled down his skirt, RJ heard the familiar sound of tape and plastic wrap. Now that he was plugged he would be mummified. And he was. Both legs and arms. The huge tits. Everything except his poor pinned genatalia. As he lay on his back unable to move with the yards of tape supprounding him she lifted up his head and gagged him again.

“I left some of your parts outside because I wanted to do a little experiemnt wit pleasure and pain. I’m sure you won’t mind.”

RJ just lay there, arms and legs bound, unable to see or speak, helpless to her advances. The clipping and removal of clothes pins. Her flicking tounge. Ropes tied around to distend. An ice bath. Vibrating clamps. A leather flogger. Finally she removed everything but the figure eight. And left him there. Until she came back and fucked him silly.

It had been a good punishment.