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While I hooked everything up to the TENS situated on a chair below his ass so he couldn’t see, I told him, “We’re far enough from the other cabins they won’t hear some little noises, but I expect you to keep from screaming.”

He nodded, remembered that’s not good enough, and said, “I understand, Master.”

I double-checked the settings and then pushed the button to hit him with a wave pattern nearly every human alive feels as the worst kind of pain imaginable.

A short scream escaped and then a long, heartrending whine that sounded more animal than human. I counted to seven and shut it off. “Ten times, but it’ll get worse. Count them off and thank me for punishing you.”

He gasped in air and mostly whispered, “One, Master. Thank you for punishing me.”

I turned it up after the third and told him, “Okay, more juice, and each will be a little longer.”

He didn’t scream again, but he held his breath a whole lot. I make slaves breathe when I’m not restricting their noises, but if holding his breath was his process for remaining quiet, it’d be cruel to disallow it.

I turned it up again after the sixth, and on the next round piss squirted from his dick. I didn’t shorten my count to twelve, though. The goal is to not have to punish my slave very often, so I make these sessions something to be terrified of.

When I finally turned the TENS off, Davy yelled, “I’m sorry, Master!”

“Not a problem. I put plastic under you. If you want that one to count, you should number it immediately.

“Seven Master! Please…” He hesitated, took a breath, and managed, “Thank you for punishing me so everything can be right between us again, Master.”

Such a sweet, sweet boy. I wanted to hold him and soothe him, but it was important we finish, so I merely turned it on again for the eighth of ten.

I turned it up even more for the tenth round, and more piss came out, but not so much the towel couldn’t soak it all up, so I decided to head into the second punishment due him without cleaning him up first. Tears rolled down the sides of his face, and they’d probably flow even more freely before I was finished. I put a pillow under his head and upper back to make sure he could watch this next segment, removed all the TENS equipment, including the butt plug, and replaced it with a plug that would hold him wide open while we ate.

And then I showed him the wooden spoon.

“The TENS was for shaking your head no. If you’d immediately gotten into the driver’s side after I reprimanded you, we’d be done now, but you stood in place and had to decide whether to obey me or not when youknewyou already had a punishment coming.”

“Thank you, Master, for caring enough about your slave to punish him.”

I used the handle on his balls because the spoon would be too much, and he got twenty-one strikes on each ball before I removed the jailbird and walloped his dick twenty-one times with the back of the spoon.

Finally, I released his wrist cuffs from the spreader bar, connected them together, and ordered him to hold his dick so the head was up and out of his hands, and I hit the head seven times with the back of the spoon, and then immediately unlatched his wrist cuffs.

“Punishment’s over. Remove all the equipment except your butt plug. Clean everything I used and put it on the table so I can stow it away later. Rinse the towel out in the tub so it won’t smell, and then hang it to dry. Rinse the plastic shower curtain and throw it away. If you wash your face, be careful of the freckle. Your hair needs some more gel to keep it back from your face. You have twelve minutes to meet me outside dressed and without tears. There’s a jacket with your clothes. Wear it.” I grabbed his phone, set the timer for twelve minutes and propped it so he could easily see the countdown, grabbed my own jacket on the way through the living room, and walked out the door.

The porch had rocking chairs, so I sat in one and considered Davy’s language. I’ve never been one to require a slave to keep from using personal pronouns, but it sounded like my boy’s first master hadn’t allowed them. Sayingthis slaveinstead ofIormemade you less of a person, and I was okay with Davy using that kind of language during punishments and when begging, but I didn’t really want him to the rest of the time. So far, he hadn’t, but should I talk to him about it before he did? It felt like I should, so I made a mental note to have the conversation with him.

He came out at the eleven-minute mark and showed me his phone, as he’s supposed to. I turned the countdown off, and he slid the phone into his pocket.

I could see a few signs he’d recently cried, but it was probably the best he could do such a short time after bawling his eyes out. The freckle was in place and the gel still sparkled a little because it hadn’t had a chance to fully dry. I watched it go matte seconds after he came outside, so he must’ve put it on as he walked through the cabin.

“Do you need to wash your hands?”

“No, Sir. I wiped the gel off with a towel.”

I stood and pulled him into my arms. “Punishment’s over, Davy. We’re good.”

He wrapped his arms around me and held on as if I were a lifeline, and I gave us a good thirty seconds to enjoy each other’s embrace before I released him. He immediately let go of me, and I grasped his hand and walked him the two hundred yards to the lodge’s restaurant.

* * * *

Davy

Dinner was excellent, and then people came to our room with their tables to give us side-by-side massages.

Had Master been relegated to that kind of punishment because of the massages? Would he maybe have caned me or belted me, if he hadn’t had to worry about someone seeing my ass and the backs of my legs? I didn’t know and wasn’t inclined to ask. It had been horrible while it happened, and my dick still hurt a little, but my balls were fine. He’d given me permission to remove the plug before the massage, thankfully.Damn, I’d felt it all through dinner, spreading my asshole wide open.