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Stella Fyre
Stella Fyre
Published by Susan Strict
Default Stella Fyre

Stella Fyre is a new Femdom writer whose work I’m busy editing and publishing. The first book has just been published, “The House of Secrets”, and an extract from the book follows the description of the story below:

The House of Correction was full of women, man-hating women who had all been abused at some time in their lives. The Mistress offered a service to other women, to punish men (and occasionally women) who thoroughly deserved it.

Nathan, however, was completely innocent. His wife’s belief that he had been unfaithful was based on lies, but his punishment was to be far more intense than the House of Correction usually administered to its prisoners.

But in the back of Nathan’s mind was a secret, vaguely remembered from his childhood. It was a secret that would change not only his life but also the lives of all around him. The House too held secrets, part of the deep mysteries slowly being revealed in Nathan’s mind. The Mistress’ skills with the whip and the flogger would be put to better use than mere punishments, battling with evil far deeper and more powerful than any wickedness of the most brutal of mortal men.

He tried to focus on the reality of the day ahead. Whatever they had lined up for him, he was sure it would be painful. All he could do was endure, but he wondered whether he could stand this constant abuse without losing control of his senses completely. Already there was the temptation to let his mind withdraw, and yet he knew that once he let himself take that route there might be no going back.

He was determined not to let them drive him into madness. Once again he tried to work out why Carman had done this to him. Surely, he had done nothing to warrant this type of punishment. There was no reason for her to throw him out, and certainly no reason for such treatment of him. It was unbelievable that she had not even given him the opportunity to defend himself.

The light came on, and the Mistress was standing in front of him once more. She looked at him and asked, “Do you want to tell me the truth about your affair?”

“I have not had an affair with anyone, Mistress. I don’t know why you bother to ask. You already made it clear you’re not going to take any notice of anything I say, and nothing I can tell you will stop you beating me. You are only asking me for your own perverted curiosity.”

“So you still want to keep it a secret? Well, today you will tell me all your secrets, because I will be punishing all the soft parts on your body. Your back is nicely scarred, and there will be many more marks before we’re even halfway finished with you. Your wife will not be disappointed in my work, that’s for sure. Now come on, girls, get to work. Turn him around and let’s get started. Today I want to be able to see his fear and watch his pain.”

After placing the ball gag in his mouth, they unstrapped his legs and arms. He was lifted off the bench and taken to a low table with two aluminium posts at one end and a wooden block at the other. They threw him down roughly onto the table on his back, his head at the end with the wooden block. He could see that at this end there were extensions to either side of a table so that this end formed the crosspiece of a T shape, and they stretched out his arms to either side and strapped his wrists to these extensions. His legs were lifted up and his ankles strapped to the top of the poles at the other end of the table.

There were also straps at the knees, and then the poles were pulled out wide at the top so that his legs were now spread. His head was resting on the block with a strap pulled tightly across his forehead to keep his head in one position. Another strap was pulled tight over his belly, and attached all the way round underneath the table, holding him firmly in place and making any movement impossible.

The Mistress stood at the bottom of the table, gazing at his naked, restrained body. Her eyes rested on his manhood. He could see her looking at it, and he tried to wriggle in his bonds. Her attention was drawn to the expression on his face and she smiled as she realised what he was thinking. She was tempted to torment him, but for the moment she decided that a little reassurance would be more appropriate. “Don’t worry,” she told him. “I shall not be touching that; at least, not yet. I should, of course, and I probably will. After all, it’s because of that nasty thing that you’re here. If you thought with your brain instead of that pathetic little appendage, then you would never have been in this situation.”

There was fear in his eyes, and she had never seen the type of fear he was showing. Her clients were often frightened, but their fear was very different. In any case, his manhood was neither pathetic nor little, although she had seen bigger.

She picked up the flogger and came towards him. The flogger swiched through the air and then landed heavily on his chest, then the top part of his arm. Repeatedly it struck him, and the pain rapidly became intense.

“I’ll bet you never thought I would do this to you, slave? Well, let me tell you something about my establishment. I am a sadist. I like inflicting pain on others.”

In actual fact, this was not true. She did enjoy her work, but she provided a service for many of her clients: she gave them what they craved, and compassion was very much a part of her services. She might beat them mercilessly, but only because that was their true desire, and afterwards she was always gentle and loving. For men who were sent to her to be punished, it was rarely any more than making a point with a few short, sharp floggings. This was different.

“All these girls you see here have at one time or another been beaten into submission by men. It will be no good looking to any of them for mercy because they hate men. You really are in the shit, aren’t you, little boy? Now your head is strapped so that it cannot move, so here’s how it will work today: lift your eyes up to say yes, and left to right to say no. Do you understand?”

She saw his eyes lift, and she smiled. “Good. We now understand each other. How old are you, slave? Nineteen?” She saw his eyes go from side to side. “Well, I don’t think you’re any older than that, so it must be eighteen.” At that, his eyes lifted up. “So you are eighteen, and you are fucking your wife about already. She caught you out just in time, didn’t she? She could have had children with you and then found out, and then she would have been in a right mess, wouldn’t she?

“Still, we’ll talk more as the day progresses. For the moment, we’ll get back to business.”

She raised the flogger again and brought it down stingingly on his arms. Once again his tears were starting to fall.

“Look, girls, this weakling is starting to cry once more.”

The girls all laughed.

“Well, he will cry a river before I have finished with him.”

The flogger hit him repeatedly, alternating between his arms, and the more she struck the tender, soft flesh, the more he screamed. When she brought it down hard right in his armpit and three times more in the same place, he nearly passed out.

“Now are you going to confess to fucking another girl, you puddle of dogs puke, and relieve your pain?”

Nathan was trying to work out who he was accused of fucking with and why everyone was so convinced he had been doing it. He was sure that whatever he said to the Mistress, she would only laugh and carry on, but there were so many unanswered questions.

His eyes went from side to side.

“You are a stupid little fool, aren’t you? Well, I gave you a chance.”

Despite what she said, the Mistress could tell that Nathan was thinking clearly and had made a decision to say nothing. It did not make sense to her. At this point, she knew that he should be telling her anything she wanted to hear, and it seemed to her that something was not quite right about this.

Once again Nathan screamed as the flogger fell on his other armpit. Again and again it fell, and now there was pain on pain and he was screaming on each stroke, all the time he was looking at the expressionless face of the Mistress. Her smile had gone, and for the first time he could not sense any pleasure from her at his extreme discomfort. Each stroke was brought down with precision; everything she did to one of his arms mirrored exactly by what she did to the other.

The Mistress had stopped and was looking at him. There had been many men in her establishment over the years for many reasons. Those who had been sent by their wives for correction mostly stayed only a few days, and most required only fairly soft punishment. What had this boy done that had been so bad as to deserve the punishment that he was receiving? A soft punishment was more than enough for most, receiving a few strokes of the cane twice a day, but Carman wanted scars and had paid extra for them. She wanted intense punishment to continue day after day, and that was more than the Mistress had ever applied to any man.

She looked down at his body. Already it was a mess, and there were marks all over it. What she had done to his back would take many weeks to heal up and to disappear completely, but he was young and his flesh would heal well. The venom with which his wife had spoken to him on the previous evening was, without a doubt, genuine and final.

He was still looking up at her with his eyes wide when she lifted the flogger once more, and she saw him close his eyes and scream long before it had started to fall. She brought the flogger down on his muscle and then put it down. “Your first punishment for today is over,” she told him, and then nodded to the other girls and left the room. Once again, he was alone.

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