Microfantasy Monday, week 42 : Questions & Answers

Miss Ang, the Sweltering Celt, is the beautiful woman behind Microfantasy Monday.  This week she gives us “Questions & Answers” as our theme.  My approach to this theme is inspired by the lovely, and sadistic, Roxy.


He’s bent over a small ottoman in the center of the room, wrists bound behind his back. The dim lighting creates ominous shadows as I stride quickly from the doorway to stand directly in front of him.   I reach out to touch his hair and he winces.  I chuckle at him and grab a handful, pulling his head back painfully.

I smile at his grimace and he growls at me, still my beautiful, defiant one. “When I left the room, you had such beautiful marks.. they have faded so much in such a short amount of time. We’re going to have to do something about that, aren’t we?” He glares at me and I slap his face. “Answer me, boy!”

He hesitates a moment before forcing “Yes, ma’am” out of his gritted teeth.

“Oh, now, that won’t do at all” I say, in a voice both sweet and menacing. “Time to refresh these marks, boy.”

“I have some questions for you… you’re some kind of geek, right?  So these should be simple… ” I stroke his ass with the heavy paddle I’ve chosen and he groans, muscles flinching away slightly. “Listen closely.. *whack* which is bigger *whack* a petabyte or a *whack, WHACK* terabyte? *whack… whack… ” He knows the answer, but is panting and groaning from each strike, which he knows will continue until he answers. Finally he shouts the answer.


“Oh.. smart boy.. but *whack* that’s not *whack* how I’ve instructed you *WHACK whack* to answer me *whack* is it.”

“Ohgodd!! … Ma’am, a petabye is ..
” mmmfff! … is bigger than a …
“.. nnngggg.. than a terabyte, MA’AM!”

“See? That’s not so hard is it?  What a good boy you are.. here.. drink some water.. ” I hold a small ceramic pet bowl of water up under his face. He knows well enough to lap as much up as he can quickly. I put the bowl down after a few moments, and watch him struggle to regain his breath and composure. I pet his head, then run my fingers down his back, across welts gained earlier and then to his muscular ass, where I probe and massage the mass of red marks gathered there. “Oh, what beautiful color you have now, boy.” I delight in his moans and in the way he flinches. I run a finger up the crack of his ass, pausing at his puckered hole. His moans take on a different quality, as he pushes against my finger.

“hmmmm.. well, I’ll be back in a little while with something I think you’ll really like” slipping my fingertip into him, drawing a loud gasp and a hard backward thrust that I pull away from.

And with a final open-handed smack to his ass — eliciting another loud moan and whimper — I leave him to recover and ponder what comes next.

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