Free Desire by Madame B

me why you’ve been so bad, and I’ll decide whether or not you deserve to be punished. Now, get down on your knees.”
    He didn’t obey me quickly enough, so I brought the whip down on the floor, inches away from his body. I noticed again how good his physique was: lean, gym-honed, he was obviously a strong, powerful man. All the more reason why having him in my thrall was the biggest kick I’d ever experienced in my life.
    “On your knees , slave,” I snarled, enjoying the sight of this six-foot-six man prostrate before me. Even in the flickering candlelight I could make out the scars on his ass and thighs from week-old lashes. As the whip came down, he closed his eyes, and I heard him let out an involuntary whimper of pleasure.
    “Confess,” I hissed like a snake, kicking him over so that he lay on his back, utterly defenseless. I considered using the rope to tie him up, but instinctively I knew there would be no need. The power of my presence would be enough to bind him here until I chose to release him with a single word.
    “I have bad thoughts,” he said. “I want women to hurt me. There’s a woman at work who treats me like shit and takes all my clients away. She lost me a small fortune today, and as soon as I heard about it I had to go into the toilet and jerk off.”
    “That’s disgusting,” I sneered, even though I thought it was sexy as hell. “You know what?” I continued, bending down until I was so close to Howie’s head that I could smell the shampoo he used and identify it. He shook his head. “I’m sick of listening to your fucking shit. I’m gonna shut you up.”
    And with that I put the ball gag on him. He looked so vulnerable there with that big marble stuffed in his mouth that I wanted to put my groin on his face and grind it into the gag, letting his muffled mouth bring me to orgasm while stifling his nostrils with the folds of my cunt. But I didn’t, because I had power and control beyond anything I had ever experienced, and the wetness between my legs was growing stronger by the second.
    “I can’t think of a punishment bad enough for a sad little prick like you,” I said, watching his dick come to life, my words caressing him to an erection as surely as any hand job would.
    I picked up the crystal whip again. I wasn’t going to use it on Howie’s skin, but he didn’t know that. The idea of being whipped, the thrill and fear of what I might do to him, would be more arousing than the experience itself. I trailed the diamante tips over his stomach and his inner thighs, then gently flicked the underside of his dick and his balls. He was trying to shout something, so I decided to take pity on him and whipped the ball gag out of his mouth. He took a couple of sharp breaths and then resumed his pleading.
    “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry, but I need to come. Please let me come. Oh, God, I need to come.”
    “No,” I said. I had one more torture in mind before I was prepared to let him go.
    Using the whip as a pointing stick, I trailed it along the shelf of dildos, vibrators, and shafts that Charlotte used on her clients. I knew where each one was; I cleaned and disinfected them all every night.
    “Which one do you want?” I said, as if I didn’t know exactly which one I had in mind. “This one?” I held up a sleek chrome dildo a few inches thick. Howie nodded eagerly.
    “Well, it’s not up to you which one you get.” And I picked up a black rubber vibrator that was twice as thick and twice as long as Howie’s own dick. His eyes widened, in pleasure or fear I couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter—in the dungeon, pleasure and fear are one and the same. I poured a few inches of lube over the vibrator, ran my hand over the shaft, fought the temptation to turn it on, hold it against my clit, and get myself off.
    Instead, I held the black rubber vibe in the crease between his twitching balls and his throbbing penis, using my hand to stimulate the length of his hard-on. When he was as