Mister Mike - Chapter 5 – Part 2 of 2

The Domination of Mister Mike

By Karen Singer

Chapter 5 – Part 2 of 2

     I got to my room and saw nothing, but she kept pushing.  “Into your bathroom!” she said.  My feet never stopped moving…or hurting.  I got to my bathroom, and saw the roll of duct tape from my shop sitting on the counter next to the sink.  That didn’t exactly bode well in my mind…not that anything would.  But what did she need it for if my hands were already taped behind my back? 

      “Kneel down and then lay over the side of the tub,” she ordered. 

     I would have rather taken a shower, but at least kneeling down took the weight off my aching feet.  I just wasn’t too sure about this vulnerable position I was now in…with my wet diapered backside pretty much sticking straight up into the air. 

      “I couldn’t find any rope out there,” she told me, “so I had to grab this.”

     I was guessing the duct tape.

      “Hmm.  Now how the heck am I going to do this?”  It was a moment before she said, “Oh well, we’ll just have to try this instead.” 

     With that, I felt her messing with my already taped up wrists, wrapping the duct tape around them this time.  And then after several layers, I felt her climbing over me into the tub, and pulling hard on that tape bringing my hands up toward my head, which pretty much pulled me a little further over the side of the tub and forced my head lower into it so it was practically touching the bottom.  I couldn’t see what she was doing, but I heard her ripping the tape off, pulling harder on it, and then finally leaving the tub…but my arms were still pulled and stretched up all too torturously behind me.  I realized she must have fastened the other end of the tape to the soap holder built into the tub wall. 

     With her behind me now, I suddenly felt her pulling my pantyhose down to my ankles.  I would have much rather had them completely off, along with my shoes, but that wasn’t to be.  And then she was messing with my wet diaper, unfastening it, and taking it off of me.  She threw it into the tub and pulled it so it was right underneath my head.  I had to do my best to hold my head as far away from it as I could…which wasn’t very far.  With my nose so close to it, I couldn’t help but smell the pee soaked thing.  Awful! 

      “There,” she said, sounding satisfied.  “Much better!” 

     Not to my thinking.  She was gone again, out of the bathroom for a few minutes, and then I heard her come back. 

      “Miss me?”

     I said nothing – purposely.  How could I miss a monster like her?  All of a sudden, something hit my naked backside with a loud slap – and it stung.  “Ouch!  Hey…that hurts!” I said angrily.

     She giggled.  “It’s supposed to dummy.  How the hell can it be a punishment, and how the hell can you learn anything, if it doesn’t?”

      “What the hell was that?”

      “Your belt, of course.”

      “My belt?”

      “Hasn’t your father ever taken his belt to you when you were growing up?”

      “Not that I remember.”

     Well maybe he should have.  Maybe you would have learned something.”

     She laughed, and suddenly that stinging pain hit me again.  “Ouch, damn it.  Stop!”

      “Not on your life!  Now hold still.”

     With that, she began hitting me with that belt over and over again.  Both sides of my backside, and seemingly all over it.  “Stop!  Stop!” I yelled. 

      “Oh shut up, you big baby.  I’m just trying to get it all a nice shade of red before we start.”

      “Stop!” I yelled again.  But she didn’t stop.  Not for another few minutes.  Now, not only were my feet in total agony, so was my backside.

      “That hurt!” I complained once the beating had finally ended. 

      “Stupid sissy!  It’s supposed to!”

      “Well it does!”

      “Good!  Now that we’ve got you warmed up, it’s time for your real lesson!”

     My real lesson?  That wasn’t it?

      “Now,” she said.  “Let’s see.  I seem to remember that you have a real problem with honesty.  Lying to me.  So I want you to tell me ten times that you’ll never lie to me again.  I think that should be sufficient.”

      “Okay.  I’ll never lie to you again,” I said quickly.

      “That’s the general idea,” she replied, “but I haven’t started hitting you yet.  Wait till I tell you to start, then say it ten times.  Ready?”

      “No!” 

     But she started swinging the belt again and the stinging punishment continued on my backside.

      “No!” I screamed. 

      “Okay, I’m waiting,” she said as she kept hitting me.  “Ten times now.”

     Ugh!  “Okay!  I’ll never lie to you again.  I’ll never lie to you again…”  Ten times I said it as fast as I could.  But she was still swinging that belt at me.

      “Was that ten?” she asked as she continued to hit me.

      “Yes!  Now stop!”

      “I’m not sure,” she said, continuing to swat my backside punishingly.  “Do it again, and this time promise you won’t lie instead.”

     I was hurting and desperate!  “Stop!  Stop!” I pleaded, but she didn’t stop.  “I promise I’ll never lie to you again,” I said as quickly as I could.  “I promise…”  Once again I did it ten times.  I was so relieved when she finally stopped hitting me. 

     She leaned over top of me.  “Now,” she said.  “See to it that you keep your promise!  Or I promise I’ll make you wish you had!”

      “Okay!  I promise!” I replied.  “Now let me up!”

      “Up?  No way?  We’ve only just started.  That was just for one of your crimes.”

      “No!  No more!”

      “Oops!  There’s another one,” she said all too quickly.  “Complaining about things and arguing with me.  You’re going to need to learn not to argue and just do what I say – without complaining!  So here we go again.  When I tell you to start, I want you to promise never to argue with me or complain about what I want again.  Ready?”  Before I could say no, she was hitting me again.  “Okay, I’m waiting,” she said after she had slapped me three times.

      “I promise not to argue with you or complain again.  I promise not to…”  Ten times.  Fortunately, this time she was counting and she stopped hitting me as soon as I finished the last one.  I was in agony!  “Please…”

      “Are you going to argue or complain again?  Now?”

      “No!”

      “Oh good.  Then you must want me to continue.  Don’t worry, that was my plan.”

     Oh, she was a demented horror!  “I hurt!”

      “Good!  It’s supposed to.  Now let’s see.  What else was there?  Oh yeah.  Me telling you to do something, and you not doing it.  So let’s see.  This time I want you to promise to always do what I tell you with no questions asked and no fuss.  Got that?  No questions asked and no fuss.  Now here we go again.”

     Once again she started hitting me and my burning backside erupted in worse pain.  “I’m waiting.”

      “I promise to do what you tell me with no fuss and no questions asked.  I promise to do what you tell me with no fuss and no questions asked.  I promise…”  As fast as I could spit the words out, I did my best to get through it.  Which was difficult since there seemed to be too many words to say and I kept getting tongue twisted from the pain she was inflicting.  But once again she stopped as soon as I had finished saying it ten times.  I was in such pain that I lowered my head at the relief of her no longer hitting me, and my forehead went right down onto that piss filled diaper under it.  I didn’t even care.

      “Very good,” she said.  “Now I think we’re finally getting somewhere, and your backside is getting a really interesting shade of dark red and purple.  Which I guess brings us to one of the biggest problems that you’ve got.  Not admitting how much you really love it when I humiliate you.  Now for this one, I want you tell me that you really love being humiliated, and how much you really love me humiliating you…oh, and that you want me to keep doing it.  Got that?  You really love being humiliated.  You love me humiliating you.  And you want me to keep humiliating you whenever I can.  That should do it I think.  No, wait!  For this one I want to hear it twenty times, not ten.  Ready?”

      “No!”

      “Are you arguing or do you need time to figure out what to say?  Because if you’re arguing, then I think we need to go back and revisit that one a little better.”

      “No!  I’m not arguing!” I said quickly.

      “Good!  Then let’s start.  Maybe me blistering your hind end a little more will give you some incentive to make this sound good.”  With that, she started hitting me again, extra hard! 

      “Oooouch!”

      “That’s not what I want to hear!  Now start talking and I’ll tell you if it’s acceptable or not.”

      “Aaaah!” I screamed.

      “I’m waiting.”

      “I…love being humiliated,” I breathed through the pain as she continued hitting even harder than before.  “And I like it when you humiliate me…oouch!  And I want you to keep doing it.”

      “I don’t know she said as she kept hitting me.  “I’m not that thrilled with it.  Don’t use the word like, use love instead.  Oh, and please add something about how much being humiliated by me actually turns you on.  That sounds good, doesn’t it?  Now try it again.”

     My brain was becoming foggy from all the pain.  I desperately wanted her to stop hitting me.  But telling her that was against everything she was trying to pound into me.  I had no choice.  “Um…I love being humiliated,” I said through my pain.  “And I…love it when you humiliate me.  It really…turns me on.  So please keep humiliating me.”

      “That’s one,” she said.  “Not too bad.  Now let’s try number two.

      “I love being humiliated.  It really turns me on.  I love it when you humiliate me, so please keep doing it.”

      “I’ll accept that as number two.  Just try to make it sound more sincere.”

     I have no idea how long it took me, because there were many times I either forgot something, or she didn’t like the way I said it, but by the time I finally made twenty and she stopped hitting me, I was nauseous and nearly ready to pass out. 

      “There!” she said as soon as she had stopped hitting me.  I think that was very instructional.  Don’t you?  Now hopefully we won’t have to punish you again for any of that.  And if we do, then I’m sure I can find some way to make it even more memorable.”

     I was hyperventilating and gasping for breath with my head resting right on that disgusting piss filled diaper.  My backside was absolutely on fire.  And she was a nurse?  Dedicated to relieving people’s suffering?  Not from what I could see.  I pitied any patients that had her tending to them. 

      “Now,” she said, “I think that just leaves us with one more infraction we’ve got to address.

     Not more!  Please no more!  I just dared not say anything aloud.  I had no idea what she was going to punish me for now, but I knew it was coming.  I stayed there gasping for breath when I felt her doing something with the tape that held my hands pulled up so strenuously.  All of a sudden, the tape that was holding them snapped and my still bound hands snapped down and rubbed against my raw backside, bringing relief to my shoulders, and further pain to my bottom.  But she was back quickly, this time attacking all the tape that held my wrists together.  I realized after a moment that she was using scissors.  A few seconds later, the tape was cut and she was pulling it off of my skin.  My hands were free – finally!  I brought them into the tub near my head and did my best to move them to get the kinks out.

      “Okay,” she said.  “Out of there and lay down on the floor.”

     I guess she wasn’t going to punish me after all.  At least, I was hoping she wasn’t.  I pried myself out of that tub, glad to be out of there, glad to be able to move, and glad to no longer have that pee soaked diaper in my face. 

      “Lay on your back,” she told me.

     I was glad to do that, until I felt my raw backside hit the cold floor under me.  “Oooww!”  I quickly moved to my side.

      “I said on your back!  I know it hurts.  It’s supposed to!”

     Florence Nightingale, she wasn’t.  Once on my back, she told me to stay put for a few minutes while she left me.  After the beating she had just given me, I was glad to do just that.  The part I wasn’t glad about was when she came back…with diapers in her hands. 

      “We’ve really got to get more of these things for you tonight,” she said.  “You’ve only got one left after this.”

     I said nothing to that.

      “Now,” she said.  “How the heck do you put two of these things on, and get them both to soak up your silly pee?  All this plastic is in the way.”

     I sighed.  “You’ve got to cut a bunch of slits all over the first diaper so it can leak through,” I told her.

      “Oh!” she said brightly.  “Fortunately, I’ve got scissors right here.”

     Oh goody – not!

     I laid there with my bottom in absolute agony, trying to recover while she messed with the diapers.  It was only then that I realized I was practically naked and my penis was fully on display.  But somehow, that didn’t matter that much to me just then.  At least it wasn’t the least bit hard.  Not after that beating! 

      “Okay,” she said as she held up one of the diapers.  “Let’s see how this works.”  She knelt down beside me.  “Lift your bottom.”  A minute later, she had that first diaper firmly on me.  I realized that she seemed to know just what she was doing in putting it on, as if she’d had lots of experience doing it.

      “Hmm.  Some of the stuffing is trying to come out through the slits,” she noted. 

      “It’s okay,” I replied…even though I shouldn’t have said anything.  “Just put the other one on.”  Had I really told her to do that to me? 

     Before I knew it, the second diaper was firmly in place.  “There,” she said as she stood back up.  “Now that’s your punishment for wetting yourself like a baby.  You can just spend the rest of the night in those diapers.  Now get up from there and pull your pantyhose up.  I’ll go find that pink nightgown I saw in your drawer.”

     My nightgown.  The silky thought of it actually sounded comforting.  I struggled to my knees despite the pain in my backside that the pressure of the diaper was making worse.  I gently touched my rear end all over with my hands.  Sore!  Excruciatingly sore!  All over!  And I knew it was going to stay that way for a while.  From my knees, I could just see the top of the bathroom counter.  My old brown belt was lying on it.  I had never imagined getting hit with that thing could hurt so much.  But then she had continually swatted my backside with it for an eternity.  From the way I felt just then, it’s amazing she didn’t kill me! 

     It was only as I was trying to stand up that I realized that I had forgotten all about how badly my feet were hurting.  But now, trying to get to my feet in those five inch heels, brought it all back to me, and standing was more of a chore than ever.

     By the time I got up, she was standing in the bathroom doorway holding my pink satin nightgown in her hands.  I pulled my pantyhose up all the way.  The control-top upper part put even more pressure against my raw hurting backside, making it sting even worse. 

     She brought the nightgown to me and slipped it over my head.  I put my arms through the arm holes, and the thing slid down the length of my body to my knees.  “Follow me to the kitchen,” she said.  Then she turned and left.

     I’m not sure if I was in a state of shock, or acceptance, or what, but I know I was in somewhat of a daze as my feet seemed to turn and start walking slowly out of the bathroom.  As I headed for the kitchen, I was not only aware of how my feet felt, but I was acutely aware of the pressure from my diapers and those pantyhose on my raw backside as well.  Every step was another added torture back there. 

      “There you are,” she said as I finally reached the kitchen.  “Get yourself a big glass of water.  And I mean big!”

     Ugh! 

      “After that punishment, I’m sure you probably need it anyway.”

     I wasn’t sure.  I did need a drink, but I didn’t want that much extra water in my system. 

     Once I had filled my large glass with water, she told me to start drinking.  I didn’t even think of arguing or not doing it.  I simply put it to my lips and began gulping.  When I had finished about half of it, she told me to refill the glass.  I was only surprised she hadn’t made me drink the whole thing first. 

      “Keep drinking,” she told me, “and lets go order you some new diapers.”

     Still dazed, I followed behind her to my office, carrying that big glass of water with me.  She pulled my desk chair out for me to sit in, but I just stood there looking at it.  I wasn’t at all sure I was ready to try sitting down yet.

      “Sit!” she commanded.

     So I did.  Ouch!  I stood up immediately, then tried settling myself into the chair more slowly.  The chair was padded, but that certainly didn’t help the pain I felt sitting down.  I not only winced at the pain, but I kept moving my padded rear end around trying to find a comfortable way to sit.  There wasn’t one. 

      “Now where do you buy your diapers from?”

     I woke up my computer and opened my web browser.  I pulled down the link that led to the last place I had bought diapers.  It was a big company, specializing in many things for adult babies, and they had a number of different brands.  I started looking for the ad that had led me to buy the ones I had before. 

      “What are you looking for?” she asked after a minute or two.

      “The diapers I bought were on a discontinuation sale.  I’m seeing if they still have them.”

      “Discontinuation sale?”

      “Yeah.  They were a lot cheaper.”

      “How about any of the other ones they have?  Why don’t you look at those instead?”

     I dared not argue with her.  I simply turned my mouse to the page listing all the different diapers for adult babies that they offered. 

      “I didn’t expect this many,” she said.  “What’s the difference in them?”

     I pointed my mouse at the first ones offered and opened the page that told all about them.  One by one, she had me go down the entire list, and at the very bottom, there was the same diapers I had bought before, with the big letters “Discontinuation Sale” right so it couldn’t be missed. 

     She had me open the listing to see the difference.  “Wow,” she said.  “No wonder they’re getting rid of them.  They don’t seem to absorb much at all compared to even the worst of the others.”

     I said nothing.  I had already figured that out months ago when I had bought them.  There was a reason they were so cheap. 

      “Go back to the top,” she said.

     I went back to the top of the list and let her look down it.  She pointed her finger at the ones that were third from the top.  “Let’s see those again.”

     I went back to the page telling about them.  She looked over the description again.  “Buy those!” she said.  “According to what they say, they’re one of the thickest and most absorbent, and I love the cute designs all over them.”  She giggled.  “And when you wet them, some of those designs disappear so I can tell when you’re wet.  I’m sure you’re going to look real cute in them.”

     I started adding them to my shopping cart, selecting a package that held twenty of them. 

      “No!  Get more,” she told me.  She pointed at the screen.  “They’ve got them in a whole case that holds eighty.”

      “When I buy them,” I said, “twenty usually lasts me six months to a year.”

      “Get the entire case!” she ordered in no uncertain terms. 

     Like it or not, I select the case that I figured would give me a lifetime supply.  I got up off my sore backside.  Getting up now hurting as much as sitting down had.

      “Where are you going?”

      “I need my credit card,” I told her.

      “Oh.  Okay.”

     I was back a few minutes later, and shortly after that, had purchased an entire large case of the damn things.  And all I could think about as I did it, was the fact that she was making me buy so many…and she was supposed to be leaving – very soon!  In fact, the sooner the better!

      “Very good,” she said.  “Now finish your water and go to bed.”

     I picked up my water glass and started drinking again.  “How about my shoes?” I asked as I paused for a breath of air.  “Please take them off.”

      “Oh,” she said.  “Are you sure you still want them off?”

      “Yes!  My feet are killing me, not to mention my backside now, and I’ve got to go to work tomorrow.”

      “Well, if you’re sure, yeah.  You can take them off.”

      “Can I have the keys?”

      “I don’t have them anymore.”

     I was aghast.  “You took them over to Chris?”

      “No.  After Friday night, I didn’t feel like carrying them around all the time, so I stuck them back in your bottom dresser drawer.”

      Oh God!