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Subject: {ASSM} The Governor's Wife - Part Twenty-five
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Warning: This story is about non-consensual domination. It is
fiction, but it is erotic - despite or perhaps partly because it
is non-consensual.
Copyright: Victor Bruno.
http://www.mschristine.com/bruno.html
"You'll come off it when I decide," said Hettie curtly.
"Perhaps you'll stay there until I give you your second
caning this afternoon."
The Governor's Wife
by Victor Bruno
Part Twenty-five
Frank's brain seemed to erupt in screaming terror.
She could not mean that!
SHE COULD NOT!
There was a limit to what human flesh and blood could
stand.
Thank God there was.
For if she did mean it. Frank knew he would reach that
limit very soon. Frank thanked God for imposing limits
on what the human body could endure.
"I'll think about it .... while I have a drink and a
cigarette...."
Casually, so casually, Hettie Page turned on her heel
and strolled out of the kitchen. Frank watched the
quivering of the white flesh of her buttock cheeks as
they undulated seductively.
But for once, such was the pain filling his being, and
such was his dread of the future, he felt no desire!
He only felt terror.
Terror of this woman .... and what she was capable of
doing.
* * *
Something like a quarter of an hour later, Hettie came
strolling back, in the same casual way. There was a
tumbler-glass in her hand, tinkling with ice. It made
Frank realise how thirsty he was.
"May I.... may I h-have a d-drink, Mistress?" he asked
in a whisper.
"No," replied Hettie curtly. She stood there, supping
her drink, one hip jutting, one thigh thrust forward.
"P-Please ...." Frank began to whimper.
"Shut up .... you'll be fed and watered when I think
fit." Hettie strolled round and examined the havoc she
had wrought. "Mmmmm...." she said after a while, "I like
the look of that. At least, Frank, you have the
satisfaction of knowing you've been thrashed by an
expert."
Frank ground his teeth.
The taunting bitch .... how well she knew how to put the
knife in!
There was a long pause, broken only by the tinkle of ice
and the faint click of a heel now and again. She must
release me soon.... she must .... thought Frank. Yet, in
his heart, he knew she could keep him there for hours,
if she wished.
"Have you ever heard the expression, 'rubbing salt into
the wounds'?" asked Hettie at last.
"Y-Yes .... M-Mistress ...." answered Frank. A
rocket-flare of terror went up in his brain.
"That's what I'm going to do, Frank," said Hettie
silkily.
"NO .... OOO!" Frank almost screamed it.
"It hurts, but it's supposed to have a healing effect,"
continued Hettie, quite unconcerned. "We'll see ...."
There was the clink of a tin-lid falling.
"NO .... OOOOOO .... P-PLEEE .... EEEASE!"
Frank heard Hettie's giggle. And, just before the
appalling intensification of pain came, realised she'd
had too much to drink. Oh God .... oh God ....
Hettie rubbed in the salt vigorously .... handfuls of it
.... giggling as she did so.
Frank bellowed and howled rather like a pig in the
slaughterhouse, jerking and tugging at his bonds as he
had done when he was actually being thrashed.
The smarting-stinging pain was mind-bending.
Unbelievable!
Unendurable!
Yet Frank was enduring it .... and going to have to go
on doing so.
Hettie was back again facing him, a scornfully amused
look on her pretty face.
"M-Mercy.... mercy.... Mistress... I c-can't st-stand
any m-more.... I can't .... I can't ...." Frank was half
sobbing.
"We'll see about that," said Hettie. "I'll be back in
half an hour or so."
Then, once again, she strolled seductively from the
room.
http://www.mschristine.com/bruno.html
mailto:VictorBruno@MsChristine.com
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