The story is a sadistic FANTASY, AND A COMPLETE WORK OF FICTION! In REAL LIFE, I DO NOT CONDONE sexual violence and torture against the helpless in a way, shape, or form! BDS&M play should always be SAFE, SANE, & CONSENSUAL!
If you have been a victim of sexual violence, call 800.656.HOPE (4673) to be connected with a trained staff member from a sexual assault service provider in your area.
"Upon completion of this ceremony crippled jim hereby knowledges that this is a consensual and binding marriage Mistress Karen who shall degrade and humiliate the male sub-human crippled jim into nothing more than a male creature with no rights of any kind, owned as a mere piece of property, whose body, genitals and very being are placed into total slavery to serve the whims of Mistress Karen.
Do you, crippled jim, consent to be Mistress Karen’s slave for life under the terms which have just been stated?" the crimson robed Grand Mistress said.
"I do," I said, keeping my nose to the gravel of the garden path. We'd rented a beautifully scenic Japanese Rose Garden for the wedding. The moment I arrived, two of the ushers, lady body builders in full dominatrix garb complete with coiled bullwhips on their right hips, wheeled me from my Uber to the far end of the gravel path where the ceremony would take place. I was immediately taken out of my wheelchair, stripped naked, and placed face down in the sharp gravel.
The small pieces of rock bit into my soft frontal flesh like hundreds of pointy teeth. As the guests, all strong beautiful women, arrived, they were free to spit on, step on, and/or kick me before taking their seats. If they placed their foot next to my face, I was to kiss it and thank them for the privilege but say nothing else.
Several of the guests kicked my testicles as hard as they could. I bit into the ground, filling my mouth with bitter gravel in order to keep from crying out in pain each time I felt my manhood being driven up into my lower gut. While I could keep from verbally reacting to each agonizing blow, I couldn't keep my body from convulsing in spasmodic fits of agonizing pain, sparking fits of uproarious laughter from the myriad of sadistic onlookers.
Once the guests had taken their seats, Mistress Karen made her way down the aisle as Pachelbel Canon played on a portable organ. Dressed in a jet-black taffeta gown with a hooded cape and a thigh high slit which superbly showcased long supple left leg, she marched slowly with two dominatrices keeping her long ebony cape off the ground. Standing over me, she planted her open toed stiletto between my shoulder blades as I accepted my vows of life-long slavery. At that moment, her foot's purpose wasn't to hurt me, but to symbolize her absolute power over me. Once I'd sworn allegiance to my mistress, the priestess turned to address my new owner.
"Upon completion of this ceremony Mistress Karen hereby accepts ownership of crippled jim as your complete and total slave to be kept and used in any way Mistress Karen sees fit. Mistress Karen shall owe slave crippled jim nothing in return for his total servitude and obedience and reserves the right to punish crippled jim in any way Mistress Karen deems fit for any infraction, real or imagined she chooses, in any manner she chooses.
Do you, Mistress Karen, take crippled jim to be kept as your complete and total slave under the terms which have just been stated?"
"I do," she said with a smile. As soon as she spoke the words, a maiden in a short toga and gladiator sandals knelt and placed a pink leather collar around my neck with the words, "crippled jim, property of Mistress Karen," embroidered in white lettering. Then, Mistress Karen pushed her left foot forward to my mouth.
"crippled jim," the Grand Mistress said. "By kissing Mistress Karen, you seal the covenant of marital slavery between Mistress Karen and yourself, never to be undone, unless she should so choose."I kissed the top of her supple foot, then each of her pampered ebony painted toenails, then the ring on her second toe.
Once the ceremony was complete, I was placed on the floor of a limousine's back seat, so I could clean the soles of my mistress' shoes as she sipped champagne on the way to the Mariotte Hotel, where our reception was to be held. The dirt on her shoes was sickingly bitter tasting, but I licked dutifully. Savoring the Cristol, Mistress Karen didn't speak to me. There was no reason to acknowledge me as a person. I was merely a possession adequately performing a task. A satisfied smile across her obsidian lips told me she was enjoying the moment.
I was still naked when we arrived at the hotel. Mistress Karen stepped on the head of my penis as she climbed from the car. Two men dressed in matching; black slacks, pressed white tee shirts which hugged their chiseled pecks and abs like fitted gloves, black leather dress shoes with no socks, and black faux bow ties; climbed into the car and stuffed me into a garment bag so I could be carried through the lobby without the vanilla hotel guests being made uncomfortable. I learned later learned the two men belonged to one of the guests and had been brought to serve at the reception.
Being draped of the shoulder of one of the ambulatory slaves hurt my stomach, but my comfort wasn't a remote consideration on the mind of anyone who mattered as a person. In fact, I think they were ordered to take the stairs, rather than the elevator, to maximize my discomfort. The fact that climbing thirty-three flights of stairs would be especially hard on the slave carrying me didn't concern their owner when she gave the order.
I was nauseous and sweaty by the time I was released from the unventilated bag. The rush of light from opening the bag made it hard to focus. Laughter filled the air as I wheezed and gasped for air. Instead of giving me time the relax and adjust to the light of the luxury suite, I was immediately rolled onto my stomach and placed between my owner's feet.
As the reception line made its way past my owner, each lady hugged, kissed, and congratulated her. Being sub-human, I wasn't spoken to, but was expected to kiss the feet of each lady when they stopped to greet Mistress Karen.
Once the entire line had finished passing, I was put back into my wheelchair and parked at the main table. During the wedding, my wheelchair had been modified with a hard seat and an array of thick black leather straps with strong brass buckles for my upper arms, forearms, wrists, thighs, shins, ankles, feet, waist, torso, and head keeping me perfectly immobilized. The last strap is attached to a clamp forcing mouth open, preventing speech and making me to drool even more than normal.
Long strings of saliva hung in humiliating long strings as the first course was being served. Bone China plates wedding generous portions of pâté foi gras, triple creme brie, toast points, and two caviar topped deviled eggs were served to each guest. I'd skipped breakfast and the sight of the food made my stomach growl loudly.
"Is the widdle dwooler hungwy?" the voluptuous blond sitting across from me said in mock baby talk.
"Probably why his mouth is watering," another lady said.
Everybody laughed. Well... everybody who mattered laughed. I began to weep as my hunger grew, which sent the table instead raucous hysteria.
Then came the main course, filet mignon with compound butter, a sherry gastrique, and roasted broccolini atop a parsnip purée. The aromas alone would have made me crazy with hunger, buy watch so many beautiful women eat such delicacies was true torture. Mistress Karen, and the members of the wedding party sitting closest to me, made sure I got a close look at bites of perfectly medium rare meat just before eating the delectable morsels.
Since I couldn't close my mouth, they quickly realized they could hold particularly succulent bites of steak instead of my open mouth where I could practically taste the savory seasonings which had been rubbed into each filet. Helplessly unable to close my mouth, the bites were pulled away just before they could touch my tongue.
"Ah, poor baby," the red head next to me said as she teased me with a juicy pink piece of meat. "You look so hungry too." She laughed.
"You look so hungry," the blond said.
"Beg," the red head chided. Of course, the oral brace preventing me from snatching food dangled just inside my mouth prevented me from uttering a word, slurred or otherwise. "Come on, beg. Beg loser..."
"Don't call it that!" Mistress Karen snapped.
"I-I-I'm sorry," the red head said looking shocked and confused. A tense silence fell upon the table.
"It's an ugly worthless loser," she said with a good-natured smile. "It's not enough to abuse its pathetic excuse for a body. I want to keep its ego in tatters too."
Everybody who mattered laughed and relaxed.
"My bad," the red head said. "I didn't realize it still had an ego of any kind."
Mistress Karen slowly ran her onyx manicured nail of her index finger up and down my upper arm. "I'm not going to completely destroy its ego for the same reason I'm not going to castrate I want my play-thing to keep its ego, and its balls, so I can keep torturing them."
The carrot topped sadist nodded in agreement. "Maintaining such perfect pain receptacles will foster long term suffering and misery."
My new wife and owner fought back a tear and said, "Those are the things I want most for crippled jim."
That was 3 years ago. So far, Mistress Karen has succeeded in keeping me miserable and in constant pain.
