His shoulders ached from the tension as the tight cuffs around his wrists pulled his arms back as he knelt before her. She stood over him. He sensed how close he was to the hem of her tight miniskirt, the double softness of her stocking tops, the ‘V’ at the top of her thighs, the heat of her body. Part of him yielded, and he knew he wanted to give worship, to let his lips meet hers through the filmy nylon of her panties, to allow his tongue to give her pleasure. But he refused to meet her eyes, until the sharp pain of the cattle prod on his ribs bade him look upwards to meet her gaze. She held out her hand. In her palm there were two pills. ‘You may take the red pill, or the blue pill’, she said.
He looked away, determined to be master of his own fate and captain of his soul. But the cattle prod found its mark again, and he gasped helplessly: ‘The red pill’, he whispered. She smiled down at him as she fed him the pill, then guided him between her thighs, where his lips met hers. He felt her fingers tighten in his hair as she urgently pulled his face toward her, slowly gyrating her hips. He felt himself swimming in erotic currents, his lips gliding over her stocking clad legs until they found the raised clips of her garters tugging at her stocking tops, the garter belts themselves leading upward to the warm softness of her silky inner secrets.
As he pressed his lips to her, she looked down upon him. ‘I have never known a sub who does not silently long for this’, she said, as she rubbed herself over his mouth. ‘But I will let you into a secret. I am not here to give you what you desire, silent or not.’ As she said this, she grabbed him by the hair and threw him across the room. ‘You are here for me, not the other way around’. She strode forward, and the sharp bite of the cattle prod hit again and again. He cowered into the corner and begged for forgiveness. ‘You mean, you do NOT want to offer me pleasure?’ she demanded. Before he could answer, the cattle prod bit deep again. He begged again to assure he wanted to offer pleasure. ‘So you are saying you want to do what I have already denied you’, she shouted. The cattle prod’s electric charge bit even more deeply. He felt himself losing grip on consciousness. But just at that moment, he spied the blue pill that she had discarded, lying in a corner of the room. As she leaned forward to shock him again, he twisted free and leaped across the room to obtain the pill. His hands were bound, but he seized it between his teeth and grinned at her. She called out ‘No!’, but it was too late, and the pill was swallowed.
The lines of the room wavered for a moment then disappeared. A bright freshness met his gaze. He lay on a field, stretching as far as the eye could see. Gibbets punctuated the scene, with male submissives hanging by the neck, stretched in tortured poses. Others were spread taut over wooden frames, being fucked by Mistresses with giant strapons until they bled. Others yet were tied to whipping posts, their flesh flayed by Mistresses as each Mistress in turn wielded her whip. Across the expanse of green field, all that could be heard was the plaintive cry of the submissive and the derisive laugh of the Mistress. He looked up, and his Mistress sadly smiled down at him: ‘What a shame, we could have had so much fun, you and I, if only you had ignored the blue pill. Welcome to reality’. He cried out his mistake as the invisible shackles dragged him towards the wooden fucking frames, but he had taken the road less trodden, and all was lost.
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