worthless lil painslut

my submissive life
2009-05-04 01:29:18 (UTC)

Chores

Master J and Mistress A love to find new ways to humiliate
me. This weekend they had me cleaning their house for
them. I hate cleaning, which makes them enjoy forcing it
upon me even more.

First they had me vacuum all the carpeting. But, of
course, nothing can be done the easy way. I shackled by
my wrists and ankles, leaving only about a foot of slack
in between. I was given only a small hand-held dirt devil
to do the chore, and only allowed to remain on my knees.
Every few minutes the small dirt devil would be full and
clogged and I would have to crawl over to a trashcan to
empty it. This made for a slow, seemingly endless task.
To motivate me to work faster, Master J came over to me
once every 5 minutes and lashed my ass hard with the
cane. By the time the carpets passed inspection, my ass
was covered with long, painful welts.

Next Mistress A led me, still hobbled, into the kitchen.
I was ordered to scrub the kitchen floor, with a
toothbrush. Before I began she inserted an inflatable
butt-plug into my ass. Every five minutes she came and
squeezed the bulb, inflating the plug a little more. As
my task went on, the plug got bigger and bigger, meaning
more and more painful. When I finally finished scrubbing
the floor I almost crying from the pain in my inflated
ass. To add to my humiliation, Mistress A did not
immediately deflate the plug when I was done. She made me
kiss her feet and beg for release while she laughed and
taunted me.

I was next led into the bathroom. The toilet needed
cleaning. Mistress A showed me the tool I would be using –
a toilet brush connected to a gag and face harness. In
order to clean the toilet, the brush would be strapped to
my face and I would have to put my head in the bowl. I
immediately began to protest. They were ready for this.
Master J grabbed and pushed me onto the floor in front of
the toilet bowl. He pulled my arms out and cuffed them
behind it, so I was effectively chained hugging the bowl.
He then lifted the lid. Apparently, Mistress A and Master
J had been using the toilet for a while and not flushing
it. It smelled horrible. Master J covered my mouth with
duct tape and left me chained the bowl and forced to smell
the disgusting odor, as if just being chained to the
toilet wasn’t humiliating enough. Mistress A returned
about an hour later and asked me if I was ready to finish
my chores. I quickly nodded yes. She removed the duct
tape and allowed me to flush the toilet. She then
strapped the toilet brush to my head, which included a
large penis-style gag. The then watched me put my head
into the toilet bowl and scrub it with the brush that was
basically sticking out of my mouth. She of course took
this opportunity to taunt me and laugh at me some more.
As added punishment for arguing with her before, when I
was done she removed the face harness but made me put my
head back into the bowl and lap water out of it like a
dog.

Next, there was a sink full of dirty dishes to be washed.
Since I could only do these standing up, some adjustments
had to be made. First, Master J gave me a pair of 4 inch
stilettos to wear, but dumped some raw rice into them to
add to my foot pain. Next, my normal wrist shackles were
replaced. Each of my nipples was clamped with clover
clamps. The ends of the clamps were attached by a chain
to a corresponding wrist cuff. There was only about a
foot and a half of slack between my nipple and my wrist.
So every time I had to reach for a dish I would be
painfully pulling and stretching my nipples. It was
impossible to do the chore without severely torturing my
own nipples. Master J thought this was a wonderful design
on his part and suggested he may order me to do my own
dishes at home the same way.

I had hoped that the dishes would be the last of my
chores; I was wrong. My nipples were finally freed when I
was done, but I, as a whole, was not. Mistress A had a
whole basketful of her dirty lingerie that needed to be
hand washed. I was forced to remain wearing the painful
high heels with the raw rice digging into the soles of my
feet while marched back into the bathroom. Standing at
the bathroom sink I had to hand wash all of Mistress A’s
lingerie. Mistress A stood behind me while I performed
this chore. While I washed I had to stand with my legs
spread far apart. Periodically, Mistress A would whip my
pussy with the riding crop, lashing it up hard in between
my legs. She would whip my pussy to remind me to work
faster and handle her delicates with the appropriate
amount of reverence. To further humiliate me, whenever I
picked up a pair of her panties she made me hold the
crotch up to my nose and inhale deeply. Then I had to
thank her for letting me enjoy her lovely and delicious
scent. I was ready to cry from all this humiliation.

For my next menial chore, I had to alphabetize all their
CDs and DVDs. I was placed kneeling in front of a wall
unit that must have contained about a thousand CDs and
DVDs. I was freed from the painful stilettos and rice and
re-shackled by the wrists and ankles. I was gagged with a
large and uncomfortable penis gag. A single clamp was
attached to my clit. From the clamp, a wire ran back to
an ominous looking black box with a single large button.
Every 2 minutes while I worked, Mistress A or Master J
would walk over and press the button once. It delivered
an incredibly painful electric shock to my clit and caused
me to scream into my gag. As my tedious work continued I
tried to beg them not to press the button, but since I was
gagged, all I could really do was whimper like a dog.
They ignored my screams and whimpering and crying and
continued shocking my clit like clockwork until my task
was complete. I didn’t count the shocks but I must have
suffered dozens of them.

I prayed that my suffering and humiliation had come to an
end. My prayers went unanswered. I was allowed to spend
half an hour resting, on my hands and knees serving as
Mistress A’s footrest. After that I was told I still had
windows to wash, silverware to polish, clothes to iron,
and the entire house to dust. Broken and defeated, I
began to cry.