Punishment

I pulled my pants down thinking no one could see me. When I stumbled and fell into the sand, two pairs of eyes were already watching me with a smile that promised nothing good.

The message had three lines: “In thirty minutes. Undress before you come in.” And the most feared commander at headquarters knew she was his again.

She kept the card for weeks, telling herself she would never go. One Friday afternoon, for reasons she couldn’t explain, she put on her best dress and walked through that door.

She walked through the empty classrooms with a folder under her arm and a steel ruler in her hand, not imagining that three bullies would learn to fear the sound of metal that night.

I’d been swallowing his mockery in silence for a year. That afternoon, when he grabbed my shirt to humiliate me, my hand found where to squeeze.

When they switched my red collar for a green one, I knew there was no one left to stop those fangs sinking into the most sensitive part of my body.

I saw her tied to the cart, naked and silent, and instead of horror I felt envy. My godfather warned me there was no going back; I only wanted to know how to sign up.

Adrián woke tied to the gurney in the infirmary, with swollen testicles and three women deciding how much pain he deserved that night.

She made me kneel in the center of the basement, fastened the collar around my neck, and smiled: that night she meant to prove, once again, which of us was the weaker sex.

When I woke broken in the marble bed, I knew there was only one person in the world who could make me feel loved: the man who taught me to crave pain.

Surrounded by vampires in that old slaughterhouse, with the green collar choking my neck, I understood my body no longer belonged to me. I could only beg for a few more days.

When old Aníbal got hard in the tub and made his usual remark, I knew it was time to apply Rosa’s advice.

I’d never confessed that attraction. Until I saw her leaning at the bar, wrapped in synthetic fur, looking at me like a predator choosing its prey.

The clause was clear: once inside, no pleading would stop what they had planned for her. And yet she signed, with her panties wet.

He sat down at the table with his usual smile, the one of someone who thinks he owns the world. He had no idea that afternoon we were going to wipe it off his face forever.

She felt the gaze before she saw it: someone was watching her naked among the lockers. When she yanked the door open, the hunter became the prey.

She handcuffed me in my swim trunks on a false accusation, but when she squeezed me to force a confession, she discovered pain didn't scare me. And she needed someone like that.

I stepped through the door and heard nothing. That silence meant only one thing: tonight my Mistress was in no mood for games, and I was going to pay for every minute of her bad temper.

I wanted him to understand that no title or promotion means anything when he’s naked on my tiles, waiting for me to decide what he’s worth.

He spat at the sorceress while two slaves held him down. She smiled, licked the contempt from his cheek, and vowed to make him her next masterpiece.