HER Abomination

HER Abomination a story by Mistress Winter

HER abomination a story by Mistress Winter 

I awake at 10 am. to a bell being wrung in the hallway. My slave is in the bed I made him fashion from plastic soda crates. He cannot see me, he might enjoy that. He is wearing a duct tape and garbage bag thong. He is hog tied and was instructed to pick up the bell in his cage at 10:00 am. to wake me. My slave is the alarm clock. If he fails to wake me at the time I demanded I pull him out of his box by his hair and do not untie him for his first chore of the day which is cleaning the shitty litter box with his mouth. If he wakes me over an hour late he must eat every last bit of cat shit and coagulated cat piss in the box while hog tied. When he wakes=2 0me on time I allow him to clean it untied. While he cleans the box, I make myself breakfast. I don’t want that slimy pig touching my food. Worthless sack of shit would probably put his dick in my food.

Before I sit down to eat my breakfast I rip off his thong hoping that I rip off his tiny little dick with what hair has grown back since last weeks waxing. Every week I wax all of his body hair. He is a dirty pig and it20is the only way he ever looks clean. I will do it today after I eat breakfast. 

I need to pee so I pin his eyelids open and spray piss all over his face. I slap him backhanded as hard as I can if he dares look anywhere but back into his head. If he thrashes I slap him some more, until I see some blood spurt from his mouth. Which would leave me remotely satisfied with the effort I bestowed unto him by bothering to slap him in the first place. 

I need him to scamper in and be my foot stool every morning so I can reach my favorite dishes. I keep them up high so he has something he is not ever supposed to forget. At best he is equal to the ground I walk on, and I give him value by using him to attain my own goals. I usually give him a little jump or a stomp just to hear him groan. Half the time he farts too which is all the more reason for me to give his balls a little stomp too. 

While I eat breakfast I instruct him to rub his bod y over with alcohol. He must be clean if I am to come near him to wax him. I tell him to use his bucket when he’s done with his alcohol wash. I tell him to make sure he wipes his ass well, and to remember to keep his used toilet paper separate. His bucket is in the basement. He has five minutes before I go down there and shove his naked ass out onto the street. The rule is that if he gets put outside he cannot come back until he has asked ten large black men if he can butt fuck their mothers, I live in Harlem , he is naked. If he comes back on time, with his bucket and used toilet paper, I dump his brunch into the bucket… raisins, French bread, and some cat food. Then I tell him to scoop a few cups of toilet water into the bucket. After his wax he has to bob for his brunch. 

Now that I’ve finished my breakfast, I tell him to put his shitty used toilet paper into his mouth as a gag, secured with saran wrap from throat to the bottom of his nose. His mouth is so full I can see the soppy, shitty toilet paper through the plastic. I don’t want to be bothered by his screaming while he gets waxed. He is a hairy bastard, which is unfortunate, because I have to waste so much of my time making him tolerable to look at.

After I wax him he gets to spit out his shitty toilet pape r and bob for his food. He has to eat every last bit of “food” out of the bucket and if he throws up he’ll have to eat the food out of that too. As he gags on his shit I lash his legs and ass with a cane. He cries into his shit bucket and with every whimper and gag I beat him harder. I leave ribbons of red over every bit of non-shitty exposed skin. I pour more alcohol on him when he’s done with his breakfast, this time to make him squirm. His ass and legs are bleeding and when he screams from the alcohol I pummel him with the cane. I make him hold out his hands and I hit them until they bleed. I kick him in the balls with one swift movement and when he falls I kick him in the balls again. He tries to grab them away which only makes me want to kick them more. So I do. He’s screaming and rolling on the ground. He’s funny when he rolls around with that pitiful squeal. When I stop he just lays on his back and I tell him to get the fuck up, what a lazy piece of shit, lying on the floor. 

I’m going to take a shower; he needs to clean up every sign of his shit before I am done, including what’s on him… If he cleans it all up I allow him to give me a foot massage. If I am not pleased I have another slave come over to massage them for me. If I see or smell the slightest sign of his feces he will have to lick the dirty ass of a homeless man I sometimes employ on just such occasions. He ‘ll have to blow him too. So while he’s sucking on a filthy cock I have another slave sucking on my toes and giving me a firm foot massage. Oh, how he moans. It makes him so unhappy to not be allowed at my feet. 

Then, since he’s in trouble, I will have the homeless man give my slave an enema. My slave will have to lay ass up in the air, face dripping with cum, and receive at least a half gallon of lightly cayenne treated water. Then he will have to wiggle his way over to his bucket without spilling a drop, unless he wants to lick it up, and he has to squat over the bucket while we watch and then I’ll throw his lunch in for him to eagerly devour, which he’d better do, while I stave off vomiting myself. If I do vomit that goes in the bucket as well, he should only be so lucky. If I’m really displeased with him, instead of him getting the enema he has to give my homeless minion one. Oh, how they both moan and groan and beg to avoid that. Then my slave has to eat his lunch from the remnants of the homeless mans’ colon. He’ll throw up and then he’ll have food for days and days. He tries very hard not to make me so displeased. 

I’ll tie up his cock with copper wire, tied so that if he gets the slightest bit of an erection the last bit of circulation will be cut off, leaving him to worry his dick will fall off if he becomes aroused. I tell him to look, “I made you a real set of balls” and I w ould then and I would then dangle two D cell batteries from the copper wire. There is no way he can pee, except on himself, plus a shock to his delicates. His dick is coiled like a snail shell with the wire. 

I decide to have a cigarette while he puts on his grocery shopping uniform. His mouth is my ash tray, he must anticipate my need to rid my cigarettes of ash while he gets ready. If he misses some ash I add another cigarette burn to the circle I’ve been making around his asshole. I want him to remember his failure every time he takes a step, sits down and shits. Shame on him for making me punish him, I tell him he will have to pay with blood later. 

I send him to go do my grocery shopping wearing only a tutu and a fresh garbage bag and duct tape thong. The only response to anything said to him must be, “I am a pretty princess”. 

When he returns and unloads my groceries the mangy pig begged to have his cock untied. So, I remove the batteries and with the remaining wire I fashion a tiny protruding appendage. It’s bigger than his cock, hey now he actually has a cock. I threaten to have him gang banged by four fat, horny, mean truckers if he doesn’t go and fuck the electrical socket. He fucks it and is shocked. He screams and grabs at his cock. I kick it and decide to have him gang banged anyways. While they double team him he has to fuck a stuffed animal that has been sitting in the gutter down the street for 2 months. 

I tell him to clean up and attempt to look remotely normal. He has to go to work. He has a 12 hour shift driving a taxi soon approaching. The money will be for me of course. 

When he returns with less money than he should have made I tell him to strip down to his garbage bag thong and wait by the rack. 

I approach a few minutes later with my black coffee, he bought me the wrong kind of milk, so I throw the hot liquid in his face. He falls to his knees with his hands over his eyes and I push my knee into his stomach. I tell him he’s worthless, not worth anymore of my energy and I send him to his crate. I hog tie him with industrial zip ties, the crate is hardly big enough to fit him. After I lock the door to his bed I light the candles over the crate. They are tilted to ensure they drip on him for hours after I’ve gone to bed, I don’t want him to be too rested. I tell him that if he is good, tomorrow I will try not to cut into his balls when I’m cutting the word WORTHLESS onto his sack.