by John B.
It was a dark and stormy night, but not too stormy for the select few who braved the elements to get to Paddles in midtown Manhattan one Saturday evening in March. Things start late in New York, so not much was happening as midnight neared. A few scenes were in progress, a little spanking
and whipping here and there, but mostly people were hanging out--hoping for something Big. Matters vastly improved just before the stroke of midnight when Mistress Nona, the Queen of Canes, strode imperiously into the premises. Those who knew her well were galvanized. Those who hadn't yet had the pleasure soon would be. Wherever Mistress goes, she is the center of
Hugs and kisses quickly greeted the Queen from all sides, and the tourists began to take note. Something was up!
One lucky Slave, John by name, had been alerted to her plans, and quickly moved to assist with her bags, freeing her to accept the compliments of her admirers. But this did not last long; Mistress was hungry for action!
"Over here," Mistress pointed, indicating the elegant theme room with its classical artwork and golden suspension handcuffs. "Strip, Slave!" and John was quickly down to a leather jockstrap. This would provide little protection! The crowd grew as Mistress quickly secured her hapless Slave in the cuffs, and blindfolded him. No
longer able to guess at her plans, John began to tremble--fear of the unknown is the worst fear of all!
Mistress Nona approached the helpless Slave closely. He could sense her presence, he could scent her intoxicating aroma, he could feel her very breath. Firm but gentle fingers caressed his person, and he relaxed perceptibly. Suddenly she embraced him, enveloped him, dominated him by the sheer force of her presence. Her powerful hug of love and control dispelled any thoughts of independence he foolishly retained. Mistress released her grip, but neither moved from their close embrace. The room was suddenly rent with a loud report; without so much as telegraphing her intentions, her powerful palms had landed simultaneous smacks on John's buttocks, driving
him into her at the same time as the unexpected pain set his nerves on fire. Mistress Nona had claimed her property;
Slave John knew at once he was both lost and found. He began to float, ever so slightly.
John was released from her embrace and struggled to regain full consciousness, his deep breathing audible to all. Mistress approached again, grabbing his nipples, lifting and squeezing, watching his reaction closely. He rose on his toes, trying to avoid her touch. Foolish gesture! At last he was freed from her iron grip, and stood panting. The Queen returned, and John's next sensation was the sudden weight of a flogger, draped over his neck and left there, as Mistress caressed his body once more, further establishing her ownership and control. The weight lifted, and John could only guess where Mistress might strike first.
She hinted at it: "Head down!"
Then the blows came all too suddenly: fierce, violent strikes to the back and shoulders.
The flogger was not a heavy one, and Slave John was later to learn that it was merely deerskin, the gentlest of whips. But it had weight, and though each blow was bearable, Mistress Nona applied her tool relentlessly, in volleys of strikes that had tremendous cumulative effect. The heat built up in John's body, and his breathing became ragged. Mistress is expert in
controlling her charges, and for that John could be thankful. She paused, to
command, "Stay with me, breathe!" And the volleys began again, redoubled in force. The sting increased, and the sheer power of the blows tended to focus John's attention to the point where he might forget to breathe. He had to be reminded again, and he struggled to comply; his thoughts were not on his own survival, but only on pleasing his Mistress. Such was the spell woven by
Mistress Nona's presence, and by her whip.
Until now John's leather pouch had protected his most intimate parts, but this was only through Mistress Nona's kindness. She approached him closely; once again, he sensed her presence, her scent, her breath. But she chuckled as she undid his remaining garment, and his genitalia burst out, apparently happy at their freedom. But not for long...her whip struck his manhood
without warning, not too hard, but his whole body recoiled in surprise. Again and again she struck, firmly but not viciously, and his equipment could not avoid the stinging blows, twist as he might. The sensations mounted, and John found himself longing for the simple, honest, hard blows to his muscles. Mistress was playing now not with his muscles, but with his
nerves, and his mind. Again his breathing became erratic, and he had to be reminded. When it seemed that he could not bear it any longer, suddenly John found himself alone, hanging in space, savoring the ordeal.
Again that warm embrace, this time with Mistress breathing in his ear, reassuring him that he was no longer in danger, at least not for the moment. Gently was he released, and the trembling Slave guided to a safe resting place, as his emotional turmoil gradually diminished. Slave and Mistress relaxed over cool drinks for a bit, and chatted with Mistress's many admirers, all of whom wanted to receive Mistress Nona's attentions, or knew someone who did. But Mistress Nona seldom relaxes for long, and when the dungeon's Medical Room became free, her Slave was instructed to bring her equipment and prepare. Again the crowd was on alert: what was Mistress Nona planning this time?
There could not be more contrast than between the rich wood tones and elegant paintings of the classical chamber used by Mistress Nona for her flogging scene, and the austere Medical Room. Stainless steel, rubber, mirrors, and medical equipment marked the new venue of torment. Central to the theme was the examining and treatment table, now covered with a fresh,
white sheet. Slave John, the patient, was politely but firmly invited to stretch out on the table, face up and totally naked of course. Told to keep his eyes open, he found above him a mirror...in which he saw Mistress Nona's firm but determined visage to one side, and his complete frontal anatomy reflected overhead! What was the surgical procedure for today? Mistress Nona knew with grim certainty; Patient John had an idea; the crowd could only
From her medical bag, Mistress produced a strange contraption, a wooden plank or some such, one by two feet, with a large hole in the center. Some of the crowd smiled knowingly: A Butterfly Board! But what were those strange metal plates and straps? The rest of them looked on, clueless. Mistress's intentions become clearer as she laid the board across John's
midriff, then positioned it astride his loins. Reaching through the hole, she grabbed his genitals and pulled them through! One testicle was reluctant, and John was told to help reunite his pair. She grabbed his penis and pulled it skyward, hard; the patient winced and his hips came off the table, trying to relieve the stress. Mistress chuckled, and pulled his cock, now far out of its element, up toward John's navel; and bound it to the board with the attached leather straps. Only Nona knew, as the patient could feel, the truth: the straps were studded on the inside with brass pins to immobilize his hapless cock!
Experienced onlookers knew what was coming, and everyone was all eyes as Mistress produced her fiendish armament: hypodermic needles! Carefully, firmly, lovingly, she grabbed John's scrotum and pulled it down along the surface of the Butterfly Board, now about to earn its name. She picked up a needle and intoned, "Breathe, John, stay with me!" John felt the sharp point
prick his genitals, then arched his back, struggling to breathe as the needle pierced his most sensitive skin! Nona plunged the needle firmly into the board, and John was impaled!
Again and again the ritual was repeated, until five, ten, fifteen needles had been inserted, and John's scrotum was stretched in all directions. The esthetic effect is all-important, and several needles had to be removed and reinserted, to insure proper symmetry. John somehow did not appreciate the artistic value of the display, but he was denied the ability to ignore it
completely: with no blindfold, John was forced to watch the procedure in the mirror, and even hold a flashlight to properly illuminate the surgical field!
Curiously, John discovered that some of the needles hurt intensely, but some very little. It must all depend on where the nerves lie, he figured. But the element of chance was always there. The next one just might be the worst; he could never relax. But once all the needles were in place, the pain was minor; only a stretching sensation remained. He could finally relax. Or
There are Butterfly Boards, and then there are Butterfly Boards. This was not your basic model! There was the small matter of the brass pads and straps. Mistress Nona produced yet another fiendish device: a TENS electrical generator in this case her own creation the HotBoxx, which was quickly connected to the Butterfly Board. Hidden electrodes at the base of the patient's genitals and in those brass pins completed the circuit. At the touch of a button, Mistress was prepared to send a jolt of electricity through Patient John, and through his most sensitive parts at that!
Now Mistress Nona may be cruel, inventive, and sadistic at turns, but she never places her victims at risk. A sudden jolt of electricity might cause Slave John to jerk his legs up, and tear the needles out of his scrotum. That would never do! Too bloody, too messy, too many accident reports. But Mistress Nona thinks of everything, and had the ideal solution. She swiftly mounted the table herself, and sat upon John's legs, her innermost secrets
positioned on his kneecaps! John's legs were not going anywhere, and Mistress Nona now had a very sensitive gauge of any movements the patient's legs might make! The jolts began. John gasped, his legs jerked, and Nona rode her pony!
Again and again, the rhythm was established; John felt as if he were some kind of helpless marionette, having completely lost control of his body. Nona, on the other hand, was the sole beneficiary of John's distress! Again and again, John's knees convulsed, stimulating Nona's secret places. At one point John's energy began to flag, or perhaps he was getting used to the
electricity. No matter! Nona produced a rigid catheter, and inserted it deeply into the opening of John's immobilized and electrified penis! John, suddenly alert again, twisted and turned to escape this fresh assault on his most sensitive, manly part. Kindly, Nona kept it in place only briefly before returning to her electrical pony ride. Slowly, Nona wound down the
surgery, dismounted her steed, and gently removed the needles. A brisk rubdown with alcohol made the patient wince from the sting, but he smiled at the warm glow as the alcohol penetrated more deeply. A shaky but smiling patient was helped from the operating theater, to congratulations from the onlookers.
No visit with Mistress Nona, Queen of Canes, is complete without some attention from her signature implement: the British rattan punishment cane! Nona is an authority on its use, as many happy recipients can testify. Nona declared that Slave John's experience could not possibly be complete without some stripes left behind for him to contemplate. After a suitable interval
to recover from his medical procedures, she conducted him to yet another portion of the dungeon. A broad leather bench awaited him, and John was stripped yet again and bent over it. Mistress pays close attention to exact position, and he had to move his legs just so to please her. His naked bottom was of course the target, and accurate aim is essential in the use of the cane. This is what separates amateurs from experts such as Mistress Nona. She selected a relatively thin, but stingy cane for starters. A volley of rapid, light strokes signaled to John that true punishment was at hand!
The first stroke, delivered with a full swing of Mistress Nona's powerful arm, is always breathtaking - to audience and recipient alike! John grunted and twisted in appreciation, but didn't move too much. The silence was complete; only John's heavy breathing could be heard. Mistress pointed at her target, and the white line quickly coloring into the characteristic
two-track signature of a true cane stroke. Mistress continued at long intervals, allowing the pain to soak in each time. The marks accumulated, and John's response became increasingly physical and vocal. But he always returned to position.
She had asked John to keep track of the strokes; woe betide him should he forget--she might have to start over! After seven she switched to a heavy cane, and reminded John that by British tradition, canings are always given in multiples of six.
She asked, "Can you make it to twelve?"
"I hope so, but I'm afraid of the Baker's Dozen!" Mistress laughed at his sense of humor under correction, and rewarded him with an even harder stroke with the new cane. He bolted upright in agony, then slowly lowered himself back into position. To confirm John's fears, Mistress continued past twelve to a thirteenth stroke: the Baker's Dozen for real!
She asked, "Can you go on? I'm getting so wet, I'm dripping!"
Faced with such a Mistress, who would not be inspired to go his limit? John assented to
a sentence of eighteen. On the eighteenth stroke, John again bolted upright and fairly shouted his distress. He was happy to be released from further sentence, but he knew well that Mistress Nona was fully capable of continuing all night if necessary. She knows her subjects well; some can only take a few strokes, but some can last for hundreds! And she is only too happy to oblige.
Some of the onlookers had been spellbound by Mistress Nona's use of the cane, and one or two were so bold to volunteer for the experience. One lucky visitor was accepted, and received souvenir stripes of his own. He had clearly caught the fever, for he exchanged cards with Mistress, and privately signaled his intent to undergo training, "Until I can take two hundred!" If he is sincere, Mistress Nona will no doubt oblige him!
The hour was wearing on, and finally it was time to go. Slave John conducted Mistress Nona to her car; the storm was still raging, but somehow it no longer seemed to matter. All pronounced the evening a total success, as is invariably the case when Mistress Nona comes to the party!
copyright © 2000 Mistress Nona