A Domestic Crisis

Text by Susan Strict.  Artwork by Rodzo.

"Sorry, I’ll be a bit late in today," she said. "No, I’m not ill. Just a little domestic problem to take care of. I’ll be in a bit later on."

She put down the telephone and turned her attention to the man at her feet. Really, it was too much when she was so busy at work. Quite inconsiderate of him to misbehave so badly when he knew she really did not have the time to spend punishing him properly. Ah well, priorities, priorities. And undoubtedly the first priority was to ensure he understood his proper place. After all, it would be no good him thinking he could get away with anything just because she had other pressing matters on her mind.

He squirmed a little as she prodded him with the toe of her shoe. What, she thought, was the most appropriate punishment? She could sit on him, of course, smother him underneath her repeatedly until he gasped for air or even until he passed out completely. Sitting on him had the added bonus that she found it so pleasurable to have him under her, with the contours of his face pressing into just the right places. But no, it would crease her skirt and she really did not have the time to change her clothes. Anyway, if she became hot and covered in perspiration then she would need a shower too, and there certainly was not enough time for that.

He was so annoying! She kicked him aggressively, without aiming at any part of him in particular and without even looking down at him. He yelped.

She walked round him, studying him intently now. His eyes followed her, full of fear. That was good.

"Please, Mistress," he begged, "I’m very sorry."

"So you should be." Her tone was angry. "And so you will be. Very sorry. Very, very sorry."

She walked up between his outstretched legs and stood with the toes of her shoes just touching his genitals. She raised one foot and moved it forward, hovering over his testicles. Slowly and deliberately she lowered her foot and pressed down. He squealed.

"No, Mistress. No, please. I’m very sorry. Really sorry. I’ll do anything."

"Of course you will," she said with an edge in her voice that disguised her real feelings. She knew she would not damage him down there. It was not in her interests to do permanent damage to that particular part of him, although he did not know that. Sometimes she really felt like hurting him so badly he would never recover.

"Shall I," she said to herself, just loudly enough for him to hear, "Put my full weight on that foot? I think I can balance standing on one leg...."

He screamed as she increased the pressure, as much from fear as from the pain. She smiled in satisfaction and kept her foot where it was, not releasing the pressure but not pressing down any harder. He would be aching down there for the rest of the day at least. Even now if she took her foot away he would be desperate to hold and massage himself. What a shame he was restrained so securely! There was nothing he could do except moan in pain and frustration.

She pressed just a little more.

"And now," she said moving her foot and stepping back, "I really need to go to work."

He was panting with the discomfort in his testicles. He nearly smiled at the thought he would now be released, but remembered just in time to keep a properly humble and submissive expression on his face.

"But first...." she picked up the telephone again, "I must make a couple of calls."

She dialled a number and absently placed one foot on his chest, digging her pointed heel into him.

"Cathy? Oh good. I’m glad you’re in. You’ve got the day off today, haven’t you? Were you doing anything special?"

She knew he did not like Cathy. She remembered the evening Cathy had spent with them, when he had managed to upset them both by over-cooking the dinner. He needed punishing, of course, but not even she would have given him such a vicious lashing with the whip as Cathy had handed out. He still had some of the scars.

"Yes, that’s right. I said I’d call if he needed anything like that. Now listen carefully: I don’t want him damaged. No, not at all. Pain is fine, as much as you like, but I want him alive and in one piece when I get back. You’ll have no trouble managing him; he’s strapped down. Yes, he’s naked. Naturally. I’m going to padlock the cuffs, so you don’t get any ideas about undoing them. I want him to stay there for the whole day, and I might free him when I get home. Or not. It depends on my mood later. What’s that? Of course you can use him. Any way you want. Yes, his face. And that too, if you really want. Just wash him thoroughly when you’ve finished. Cold water will be fine, and you’ll find a scrubbing brush under the sink. OK? See you later."

She put down the telephone. Without a word to him she turned and left. He heard the front door close.

He waited. He had no choice.