EXTRACT FOR
Subjugated Male
(Miranda Birch)

"May I come in, Miss Mandy? I've got wanker here, crawling on the end of a lead." 



Miss Mercy snorted. She seemed to find the statement amusing. 



"Wanker?" Miss Mandy's lazy drawl came from behind the door. "Oh dear, what a drag! Yes, I suppose so. Come in, Mercy." 



I was led crawling in, then told to kneel erect. The chain was removed. Miss Mercy stood by my side, that thick leather strap at the ready. Oh she was just itching to use it! Gazing ahead, I saw that Miss Mandy was even more scantily clad than on the previous day. Just a black G-string, a lacy black bra, and a pair of astonishingly high-heeled shoes. Obviously she dressed, or rather, undressed, in this way simply to tease me. But, still numb from the night, her attractions had little appeal for me at that moment. 



"Sleep well, dickhead?" she asked. 



"No-no... no... Miss," I replied. Might as well tell the truth, I thought. She was only asking to torment me, after all. It did not matter what I said. 



She smiled happily and I had to grit my teeth. 



"You'll get used to it," she said. 



I remembered that Miss Mercy had once said that. But how would I ever get used to it? 



"Why is he up here, Mercy?" 



"Disobedience," replied Mercy in a gay tone. 



I saw Miss Mandy's eyebrows go up theatrically. Both bitches were hamming it up good and proper! 



"Disobedience?" she said incredulously, as if such a thing was inconceivable. 



"I'm afraid so, Miss Mandy." 



"Well! Do tell me more!" 



Miss Mercy recounted every little instance of `disobedience'. Not eating cold porridge. Lifting bowls instead of kneeling to them. Not kneeling when she entered the room. How ridiculous it all was! Yet, ridiculous or not, they were playing it for real. 



"I recommend that he should be punished," concluded Miss Mercy superciliously. 



I could not see her, and dare not turn to look, but I just knew she was grinning from ear to ear. 



"I should think so too," said Miss Mandy, and laughed lightly. 



That was that, then. Another beating. I tried to summon up my will and my strength. I'll show them I am a man! And tougher than they think I am. myself. 



"What do you recommend, Miss Mercy?" 



"A good tawsing should suffice," she answered with enthusiasm. That blasted strap was obviously her instrument of choice. 



"I agree with you," nodded Miss Mandy. She looked at me sourly. "You'll soon learn not to disobey orders here, wanker," she said. 



My stomach turned over at the thought of what was to come. 



"You can do it here, Miss Mercy, if you like. I think I had better watch, just to make sure he appreciates his little lesson." 



Again her tinkly little laugh. 



So I was to be beaten in front of a woman I had once strongly fancied and had tried luring into bed. Humiliation upon humiliation. 



Miss Mercy rapped out her instructions. 



"Kneel on this sofa, slave," 



Clenching my teeth I got up on the sofa.