Focus

His arms bound overhead, his legs spread wide with a bar, there is no way he can escape. He can dance back and forth, but with a knife in my hand, does he really want to? His testicles are bound tightly with rubber bands. They seem to throb, ready to burst. Inexplicably, he is erect. Perhaps he is enjoying it while he still can.

I draw the blade across his cheek, gently. He dares not flinch, but a bead of sweat rolls down his nose and his eyes water. I give his boys a gentle squeeze.

"These really are the problem, here. They're what got you into this mess in the first place."

He chances a breath to murmur agreement.

I trace the contours of his body with the blade, enjoying the way it controls his breath, the way it focuses his attention.

"And would you like always to be obedient? To be completely free from your own will? To be ruled by Me rather than by the cycles of biology?"

He murmurs again, but this time I insist on a clear answer. "Yes, Mistress."

"And what if I want a girl slave instead of a man?"

I prick the skin of his testicles and penis with my knife and his eyes water, but he still agrees to follow My whim, for better or worse, in his entirety or in parts.

"Wonderful."