Michaela was woken at 9 o’clock by her loyal slave, Herman; after showering, dressing, and having breakfast, she—followed by Herman—went to the slaves’ quarters, where only one slave, the gardener, still lived. After the punishment—which, starting today, had been reduced from 40 to 30 lashes—she and Herman were to visit the site in Katwijk to discuss some issues with the contractor.
The gardener was hard at work every day (except Sundays) from 6 a.m. and always had to interrupt his tasks when summoned to undergo his daily punishment.Lately, he had received his punishment from various ladies; none of them was any less cruel than the others, though their methods differed.
He had suffered severe mutilation to his lower body—specifically his scrotum and penis—at a young age; while his testicles had to be removed in the hospital, surgeons were able to reconstruct his penis. He had been twenty years old when the incident occurred, so he was acutely aware of what he was missing, a realization that left him depressed.
Later, as he grew older and came into contact with others in the lifestyle—and met his future Mistress through one of them—stability entered his life. In the dungeon, he saw all those erect slave cocks every day, and naturally, he frequently saw his Goddess’s hard penis.
He delighted in his Mistress’s arousal, and the act of performing oral sex on her and swallowing her semen stirred a distinct, thrilling sensation between his legs. He experienced this same feeling with Mistress Madelon, with whom he shared a genuine connection; whenever she punished him, she would frequently climax, a reaction that gave him as much satisfaction as it did with Mistress Michaela.
That morning, his punishment was reduced from forty strokes to thirty, with a further reduction to twenty planned for six months later. He knelt deeply before her, observing her attire: a very short, plaid pleated skirt, black nylon stockings, and white boots with high block heels; her blouse, unbuttoned at the top, clung tightly to her breasts, revealing her hard nipples through the sheer fabric.
She administered the punishment—harsh and merciless, as always—and he could see that she was becoming aroused by the act. Normally, she would have roughly fucked his slave-mouth right then, but not today; after the punishment, he was put back to work and left alone for the rest of the day.
Herman helped Michaela put on her fitted jacket and led the way to the waiting car; after a short drive through the dunes from Haarlem to Katwijk, Michaela arrived at Johan’s former house at exactly 11:00 a.m. She wanted to speak to the contractor about problems with the renovation of her property.
Costs were spiraling due to an unexpected setback—specifically, groundwater in the basement—and that basement was a crucial part of her plans. As always, neighbor Jaap from number 19 was peeking out and saw Michaela step out of the car; he noticed she was wearing a very short skirt and caught a glimpse of her red panties as she exited.
Accompanied by her driver, she walked to the open door of number 17; Madelon welcomed her and led the way to the reception area. The contractor rose from his chair and knelt before Michaela; she first made him kiss her boots before ordering him to sit back down.
Clearing the groundwater from the basement wasn’t the main issue; the problem was that it would delay the renovation by a month and add 20,000 Euros to the cost—precisely at a time when she actually needed to cut back on expenses in Katwijk.
The delay meant that Diana and Madelon would have to keep running their practice in Haarlem for another month, which was becoming crowded, especially since Parichat—who also worked for Michaela in Haarlem—was due to return from Thailand.
The attic renovation was complete, meaning the interior specialist could start work there immediately according to the contractor. However, the snag was that the specialist was currently working in Maastricht, and many of the items intended for Katwijk were being installed there instead.
Michaela ordered the man to go to the attic and wait for them; he stood up, knelt before the ladies, and left. Michaela suggested to Madelon that they abandon the idea of using the attic as an SM room—perhaps revisiting it in the future if absolutely necessary—and instead hold the contractor liable for failing to spot the basement issues, demanding he resolve the problem for half the cost, i.e., 10,000 Euros.
Impressed by Michaela’s decisiveness but disappointed that the attic SM room was off the table, Madelon hesitantly agreed. After finishing their coffee, they walked up the two flights of stairs to the attic. The contractor heard them approaching and knelt with his head touching the floor; he had to present his work to his Mistress.
From experience gained in Haarlem, he knew she was meticulous and demanding, and knew exactly where to look for imperfections—he himself had spotted a few. Madelon had already prepared a list, which Michaela used to conduct a thorough inspection of the large attic; Madelon’s list contained 30 points—mostly minor cleaning issues, though that level of detail appealed to Michaela—and by the end of the inspection, the list had grown to 40 points.
The contractor had to look up at the ladies while kneeling and listen to the verdict. Because his negligence had contributed to the additional costs, he was required to waterproof the basement for 10,000 Euros. He was sentenced to 300 lashes for this error, plus another 100 lashes for the issues identified during the attic inspection. The punishments are to be administered by Mistress Madelon and Mistress Diana in batches of 50 lashes at a time and the work in the attic and basement must be completed within one month.
Michaela asked the poor man if he accepted this; he whispered softly, “Yes, Mistress”—he was a slave first and a contractor second. Madelon ordered the contractor to undress; having punished him before during an interim inspection, she knew he tended to ejaculate spontaneously and quite forcefully.
Although that had previously aroused her, she decided to put a condom on him this time to prevent him from spraying the floor of her new house. Michaela watched with amusement as Madelon expertly slid the condom over the slave’s hard cock.
Before Madelon began the punishment, Michaela said goodbye with a deep, tongue-filled kiss; she had to head to Scheveningen for a highly lucrative appointment. Madelon knew she shouldn’t let her frustrations dictate her punishments too heavily, yet she allowed herself to channel her displeasure—stemming from the fact that the attic BDSM room wasn’t going ahead—into the punishment she meted out.
She immediately imposed two rounds of punishment on the poor man; he was ordered to count to a hundred strokes—though in practice, it turned into a hundred and twenty—and was punished with such merciless severity that blood splattered onto the walls and floor. The condom on his cock seemed somewhat unnecessary, though it was certainly humiliating.
Madelon climaxed several times during the punishment, feeling her arousal flowing like a waterfall between her legs; after the punishment, he had to lick everything up, giving her yet another orgasm—Madelon was enjoying this life.
The contractor thanked her for the punishment but was immediately told he had to return that evening to clean up the mess so that work on the list of outstanding repairs could begin the next day; he would be assisted in this by some of her slaves. That same evening, her husband Peter and stepson Paul had to go to work in Katwijk.
On the Scheveningen boulevard, Herman stopped at the entrance to an underground parking garage; after he held a pass against a reader, a door opened, allowing him to drive down beneath a building containing ultra-luxurious apartments. Herman stopped near the elevators in the center of the garage, opened the door for his Mistress, and draped a very expensive, short white fur jacket over her shoulders.
Michaela walked toward the elevator while simultaneously retrieving a second pass from her handbag—this one used to operate the lift. Herman stayed behind and watched his Mistress walk away, her hips swaying and the pleats of her short skirt gently moving back and forth; he knew when he had to pick her up, or else he would get a call.
On the way, he masturbated while keeping the image of his Mistress in his mind. Michaela pressed the button for the penthouse; the doors closed and the elevator whisked her upward. She had a moment to check her appearance in the elevator mirror, and she was pleased with what she saw.
She was on her way to visit a man she had known for twenty-three years; they had lived together for five years, parted ways on bad terms, reunited two years later, and had met at least once a month—and sometimes more often, such as at Christmas—ever since. On the thirteenth floor, she was welcomed by a man roughly her own age who was seated in a wheelchair; she greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.
Raymond, the disabled man, addressed her alternately as “Mistress” and “Michaela”—something that would have bothered her with any other slave, but not with Raymond. Normally, Raymond had in-home assistance, but they were not present on these special days; everything he might need during those three hours was already set out.
Michaela kept her short fur jacket on and sat in the large wicker armchair reserved for her; coffee cups were already waiting on the small table in front of the chair. Raymond positioned his wheelchair right next to the table and poured the coffee; as he poured, Michaela crossed her right leg over her left, and Raymond looked up beneath her miniskirt at her open crotch, where he saw her hard cock.
She had taken off her panties in the car and stowed them in her handbag; she felt not only like a Mistress but also like a whore—a sensation she found arousing with the right clients. Thanks to the variety she regularly introduced into her conversation, clothing, toys, and behavior, the relationship remained thrilling and pleasurable even after twenty-three years.
Raymond was one of the few slaves Michaela allowed to fuck her; despite his disability, he had managed to do so all along with the help of medication and, later, a pump. He also served her as a rimming and blowjob slave, during which he—like all her other slaves—was soundly thrashed with a whip.
When fucking, he would lie on his back on the floor in front of the large picture window while Michaela lowered herself onto his engorged, condom-clad cock and rode him until she climaxed. After coffee and some conversation about her small business, Michaela suddenly stood up—startling Raymond—and pulled him from his wheelchair onto his knees; her hard cock emerged from beneath her skirt.
She pulled his shirt over his head, tossed it on the floor, and ordered him to hold her buttocks and suck her off. She knew he couldn’t keep it up for long, but she commanded him to continue until she came inside him, threatening severe punishment if he failed.
Raymond had no choice but to obey; since their breakup, “Michaela 2.0” had become far stricter and crueler than the original. Michaela loved the way he sucked her and tried so hard to please her; she grabbed him by the hair, forcing his head down onto her member, and thrust her cock deep into his throat, feeling it swell even larger as she drove it further down.
Raymond collapsed to the floor, overcome by the combination of his paralysis and breathlessness; she kicked him in the side until he was lying on his back, then straddled his face in reverse, forcing him to lick her from her balls to her asshole. Michaela moaned in pleasure, earning a thousand Euros an hour from this slave; after twenty minutes, she thrust her still-hard cock deep into his mouth again and finally ejaculated deep into his throat.
Raymond, well-versed in his Mistress’s ways, swallowed the semen; the taste of her was as delightful as ever—during their two-year separation, he had gone down on other women, but none had tasted nearly as good. Michaela wiped herself off on his shirt and ordered him to sit back down and pour her some coffee; Raymond up righted his wheelchair, engaged the brake, and climbed into it with great agility. She had first noticed this dexterity on the plane where they had met.
Raymond poured the coffee, and Michaela said she wanted to ask him something—adding that he was free to refuse without facing any consequences. “Go ahead, Mistress,” Raymond said. “I want to borrow 80,000 Euros from you for my business in Katwijk,” she told him; Raymond asked when she wanted the money and how she intended to pay it back.
She replied four weeks later, saying she wanted to repay the money she owed him in monthly installments. Raymond did a quick calculation: at the current amount, that would mean just over twenty-five installments, he noted—or perhaps she wanted him to take a stake in her business?
Michaela knew he wanted to gain some leverage over her—something she had refused during her relationship with Hannelore (Hannelore knew Raymond was a client but had never been told about their past).
However, now—years after divorcing Hannelore and following their complete split—she was open to a financial injection, provided it exceeded 80,000 Euros; that was the sum she needed for a worry-free retirement, as her existing savings could use a boost.”Not right now, but in the future, I’m willing to discuss selling a share in the business.” But first, she wanted a different kind of injection.
“Get into the fucking position, slave.” Raymond obeyed immediately; he lay on a thin mattress by the window, stripped off his sweatpants, and stood completely naked. The pump in his cock was doing its job; he now had a hard-on that was fifteen centimeters long and reasonably thick—a size Michaela found pleasing. Raymond watched as his Mistress straddled him, a riding crop in her hand; she slowly lowered herself onto his cock—the condom glistening with lubricant—and slid smoothly onto him.
Michaela felt his thick cock inside her anus; it was an incredible sensation, and she enjoyed it so much that she immediately became aroused herself. He had to thrust his lower body upward using his arms to fuck her with a pumping motion—which turned her on immensely—though, naturally, it was exhausting work for him.
She was being fucked rhythmically in her tight hole, and when he could no longer keep up, she took over, sliding back and forth over his cock all the way down to his balls. After ten minutes, he sort of came; Michaela spurred him on further with her whip, lashing it across his chest until she climaxed over his welted torso.
The Mistress stood up, leaving her slave to his own devices; he was completely exhausted now but, as always, would recover quickly. Michaela washed up in the bathroom, put her panties back on, and returned to the living room. Raymond was kneeling in front of her chair; when she sat down, he thanked her for agreeing to be his Mistress.
After she had made him kiss her penis—visible beneath her skirt—and lick her boots, he was allowed to sit up. A plastic bag containing the condom, filled with a few drops of fluid, lay on the table; Michaela tucked the bag into her handbag. She ordered Raymond to bend over a bench, exposing his buttocks and back to her long, severe whip; he was still naked.
Michaela told him she was going to punish him for his poor performance while performing oral sex; the verdict was fifty lashes. Raymond was somewhat taken aback by this; she usually administered fifteen, or at most twenty, lashes when he had done something wrong. “Thank you, Mistress,” he said. Michaela felt herself becoming aroused again when she saw the fear in his eyes.
“Count out loud, slave,” she commanded, and then she carried out the punishment she had imposed in a brutal and cruel manner; afterwards, bloody, deep-purple welts marked his back.
Amidst his groans and moans, she made him kiss her boots once more. He was allowed to get dressed; he quickly pulled on his sweatpants and T-shirt and sat back in his wheelchair. A conversation followed in which he addressed Michaela simply by her first name—as was always the case—though he addressed her as “Mistress” again when saying goodbye.
They talked about the trip to the United States they were planning to take together the following January—a journey they made every two years—so he could consult doctors about the latest developments regarding his condition.
However, there was little more the doctors could do for him, and Michaela noticed the toll this was taking on him; he would remain depressed for increasingly long periods afterward, which was why she had stepped up the frequency of her visits.
Herman rang the doorbell; Michaela had him come upstairs and instructed him to tend to Raymond’s back. Afterward, Herman drove her to Haarlem. Every few days, she sent her butler to Raymond to treat his injuries; Raymond was glad Herman was the one doing it, as he would have preferred not to have his housekeeper handle the task.