and led me through the night into the empty torture chamber.

Throughout my torture sessions I had wished to reverse the role between myself and the torturer. Now I had control over this willing and submissive spirit.

I began by stripping him naked and strapping him to the table where I had been forced to intake the “Swedish Drink.” I slapped him twice on the face and called him a pig. He agreed that he was a pig, that he was disgusting and vile and needed punishment for his sins. I pulled off my rags and exposed my penis. I climbed on top of him and the table and sat on his neck, squeezing his head with my knees. I forced my soft shaft into his mouth and throat while pinching the sides of his torso. I told him to suck it.

“Yes master,” he mumbled in a scared tone. He inhaled my penis and sucked voraciously. Not since my encounter with the Baron had I experienced such sexual pleasure. His saliva burned rather than cooled my pale flesh while his tongue moved around unnaturally fast and precise, like a snake’s. My penis grew more bountiful in his mouth as he maintained this maneuver for quite some time. Instead of pinching, I began to scratch his skin with my long nails, drawing the slightest bit of blood from him. His mouth grew larger and not only encompassed my penis, but my balls as well, a feat I’ve never seen accomplished.

“Deeper!” I commanded. It felt as if he were now swallowing the entirety of my member, which is at least an eight-inch achievement. He looked at me with submissive eyes as I forced myself into his orifice and thrust into his throat.

I abandoned that position after a while and unstrapped him. I grabbed the whip that had been used to torture me, had him disrobe, and forced him to bend over. I gave him a number of harsh lashes on his buttocks until they turned a bright red, the color of the fury raging within me. I would poke into his backside without warning to his cries of pain. I then reached under him through his legs and grabbed his privates, squeezing them until they turned red and his face became drenched in sweat.

“Confess beast! Give yourself over to me!” I shouted at him and squeezed tighter.

“I am your servant, sir, please no more!”

I did not believe him and kicked him down. He lay on the floor sobbing, but soon crawled back to me on his knees and begged for my forgiveness, for he had been a bad servant. I slapped him across the face and shut his mouth once again with my penis. I grabbed him by the hair and started to pull it, motioning him back and forth furiously.

“Suck I say!” I screamed to him. Despite my rage, I was enveloped in an intense pleasure, and felt grateful for my servant. I felt the rush of come begin to stir, so I threw him aside to preserve myself for the time being.

I then reacquired the whip and lashed his bottom some more, preparing it for my entry. I bent him over the table and put three fingers into his