The toy game
» Sketches
(One of my favorites.)
That night started out a little differently.
She’d put the spandex hood over me. Aside from the built-in blindfolds it was too thin and porous to block sound or air. She told me that with the hood over m head she could forget that it was me. I might be any stranger at her mercy. I could almost see the neurons running across my spine flicker at this subtle touch of dehumanization. I shuddered “beautifully” she told me later. The hood was rarely brought out the better to preserve its power.
I felt her wrap and tie my neck with rope. It was so soft I kind of melted. Normally she used the rope only when she felt gentle. I relaxed a bit. I should’ve known better. Mixing signals was one of her favorite ways of manipulating me.
A gentle tug pulled me to my feet and she led me away from where I’d kneeled. A couple of times I bumped my shin and stubbed my toe. Though the mask I cursed. That she said nothing at all should’ve warned me. Speaking out of turn might’ve brought a slap or a whap. She merely laughed. Stopping she maneuvered my body into the position she wanted.
For a few minutes I stood there waiting. At last she spoke:
“Who is it under that mask? Is it an old and faithful slave or some new toy?”
“It’s me.” I said quite stupidly.
“I’m sure it is, whoever you are. Shh. Don’t say another word. I know we’ll play a little game. A nice new game.”
She had only one game. I thought of it as Herdom. There would always be one winner and one loser. My body helplessly tingled with anticipation. Her games could be very cruel and exhausting. I never knew what to expect. Often they took a very long time to play. After they were over I might marvel at her ingenuity. When they began I would’ve prayed had anyone other than her to pray to.
“I a nice collection of toys here. If you know me you’ll know my toys. If you don’t know me then you’ll need a long, hard education if you are to please me.”
I held my silence. No point in making things worse.
“I’m going to touch you with a toy. If you can tell me what it is then we’ll just move on to another toy. If you can’t then your forfeit will be to become familiar with the toy. Fair enough isn’t it? “
She had so many toys. More than she wanted she said some days. Sometimes my masochism would drive me to offer her new devilish devices. More than once I’d wished I could control myself. But only she could control me. Her voice came from behind me.
“Look at that butt. Looks like someone has been playing everything from tic-tac-toe to hopscotch on it.”
Often felt like it as well. I felt a thin, solid object slice into it.
“Which toy was that my anonymous slave?”
I knew it was a cane. She had three. I called them Bad, Mad and Dangerous. Dangerous cut into me only when she was at her cruelest. It was the only thing in her bag of toys that I felt could simply knock unconscious if she ever felt that ruthless. It hurt but if a cane strikes you only mildly you can’t tell one from another.
“Need help?”
Another blow, more force. I felt a burning line across my bottom and hoped I was right in thinking it was “Bad.” She had her own names for the canes.
“That was your easy cane.” Another blow with the cane.
“Answer the question properly.”
“That was your easy cane Mistress.”
“Probably just a lucky guess, we’ll find out soon enough.”
A flat surface slapped my cock back and forth a few times.
“Slave, identify my toy.”
Really I couldn’t guess. It wasn’t her palm nrt that she would’ve called that a toy. When she just slapped at my cock she liked to use her riding crop most often.
“That was your riding crop, Mistress.”
“Wrong! Just an ordinary wooden ruler. Now for your forfeit.”
The ruler went back and forth, back and forth across my cock. The blows weren’t that hard but they didn’t need to be. As the number mounted so did the pain. Suddenly there were two strong strikes then nothing.
I stood there blind and waiting for a few minutes. Suddenly several small hard bits crashed into my back. My butt and thighs knew that one all too well. It took little effort for her to reduce me to an elemental begging, whimpering slave with it.
“That was your spiked whip, Mistress.”
It cut back into my back.
“Had I asked you?”
I wilted. She was a capricious Goddess, in a strict mood tonight. That her sense of protocol so often varied kept things fresh and exciting.
“But your answer was correct.”
She didn’t pause this time. Each of my nipples felt something crushing them. When my mind cleared from the surprise I remembered to keep my mouth shut until bidden. I was confident I knew these all too familiar instruments of her entertainment.
“Those are your clothespins, Mistress.”
“My black, rubber-coated clothespins. I’m beginning to think you are just some stranger in a mask That’ll be just too bad for you.”
She began twisting and pulling the pins. My own body betrayed me when I tired to pull away only increasing the pain.
She had many toys and there was no telling how long tonight’s game would last.
