Newlyweds Part III  based on characters created by Mick Sloan 
By Jim Lake



He wiggled his way over to the table in the corner of the basement and used
his nose to knock a pen and piece of paper to the floor.

Twenty minutes earlier she had beaten him again, pounding his weakened body
with her fists, crushing him with her python like legs, making him cry, as she
always did. This time she made him beg her not to kill him.

His crime amounted to a one word question. "Why?"

She had taught him in their one year of marriage never to question her. Any
such disregard for her authority was met with a savage beating. She loved to
force him to the ground, riding his back, using her forearm in the back of his
neck to mash his face into the ground.

"Who's the boss?" she demanded. "Who's stronger? Who is in control of her
whimpering little husband?"

"You are," he answered obediently to every question.

Tori began establishing the parameters for their marriage the day they
returned from their honeymoon. She was the mistress, he was her slave. She
gave the orders, he followed them. She earned the money, he stayed home and
took care of the house. She was his superior in every way.

The day had begun as usual, Mark brushing his wife's teeth, washing her
magnificent body in the shower while on his knees, driving her off, brushing
her hair, lying flat on the bedroom floor while she stood on top of him and
put on her clothes.

At this point, as usual, she gave him his orders for the day. She told him
what to do, how to do it and what time it must be done. She told him what he
was allowed to eat for lunch and what he must fix her for dinner.

Today, one of his duties was to mow the lawn.

"Why?" asked Mark. Before he could add that he had just cut the grass last
week, Tori barked, "Because I said so."

Mark knew instantly he was in serious trouble. He was not allowed to question
his wife on any subject. She took her right foot and slammed his head into the
carpet, nearly breaking his nose. Mark had made the comment innocently,
without thinking. Big mistake. He knew better than to upset his mistress. He
knew he would be punished severely.

Tori grabbed the black hair on the back of her husband's head and yanked him
to his hands and knees. She sat on his back and rode him down two flights of
stairs to the basement. This was a daily ritual for the couple. She had vowed
never to walk in her own house and she had not, either riding Mark or being
carried by him.

This time she squeezed her muscular legs tighter than normal, punishing the
weak man before they even reached the basement. He thought she was going to
crack his ribs.

"Why must you challenge me Baby Boy?" she asked. "You know that I am I always
right and you have no say on any subject."

Tori Cavanaugh kept her last name when they married. Mark agreed, not
realizing at the time he had no choice. After six months of marriage she
forced her husband to legally change his first and last name, from Mark Rice
to Baby Boy Cavanaugh. He belonged to her. She owned him.

On reaching the basement she had wrapped him up in a full nelson with her
muscular arms and slammed him to the mat. Next she rolled over on her back and
wrapped her incredible legs around his waist and squeezed him until he cried.
She had studied martial arts since the age of 9.

She grabbed his wrists, pressured the perfect spot, disabling both his arms.
She knew how to totally immobilize her husband without breaking any bones.

Then she pounded him were her fists. He made no attempt to fight back or even
defend himself. He had tried that during the first three days of their
marriage when he weighed 210 pounds and considered himself quite strong. But
Tori proved conclusively to her new husband that he was no match for her
physically. She beat him time after time almost effortlessly, a 155- pound
girl totally destroying a much larger man.

In just three days she beat all the fight and resistance out of him. She
taught him that his only purpose in life was to serve her. And he did.

He admitted defeat and conceded total authority to his superior wife. Now a
year later she had reduced him to a weakling, an absolute subservient man.
While she had added 17 pounds of muscle since their marriage, up to 172, he
had shriveled to 146 pounds. Once, to demonstrate the vast difference in their
strength, she wrestled him blindfolded and with her hands tied behind her
back. She ordered him to try his best. Using only her legs, she beat him up
badly.

Tori regarded all males as inferior. She had taken a strong, vibrant man who
was two years her junior and outweighed her by more than 50 pounds and turned
him into a groveling servant.

She knew she had achieved total dominance when she returned from work one day
about six weeks into their marriage. Mark was waiting at the door for her, on
his hands and knees as instructed. He immediately removed his wife's shoes and
kissed her feet, then thanked her for the privilege, a daily custom. He then
took a wrapped present in his mouth and, looking up at his mistress like a sad
little puppy, gave her the present.

It was a fraternity paddle he had purchased that day at a garage sale.

Several weeks before Tori had added a spanking to their morning ritual. She
took her husband over her lap, took her shoe and beat his bare behind until it
bled. This served the purpose of not only reminding him of her superiority,
but making it too painful for Mark to even sit down during the day while she
was at work, leaving him nothing else to do but complete his assigned chores.

"To my beautiful Mistress," the card read. "I don't want you to ruin your
shoes."

Tori's husband had purchased a varnished piece of wood for his wife to beat
him with daily. She smiled at the present, realizing it represented her total
victory over this once vibrant, strong man that she had reduced to an inferior
being, her absolute slave. She had broken his mind as well as his body,
convincing him that his only reason for living was to wait on her.

After beating him that Saturday morning in the basement, she left for the day,
needing to do some research at the law library and meet with a client. She had
left her husband tied up like a pig.

Mark took the pen awkwardly in his teeth and slowly, still in pain, attempted
to scratch out the words on the piece of paper.

"Dear Mistress: I apologize profusely. Please forgive me for questioning your
authority over me. I deserved to be beaten. My only purpose in life is to obey
you and to please you. All my love, Baby Boy."

Tori had beaten him senseless and now he was apologizing to her for it. Life
could not get any better for her. He needed her as much as he feared her.

When she returned home she went to check on her possession. She had tied his
bonds so tightly there was no way he could escape. His arms and legs ached and
his wrists and ankles throbbed with pain.

He rocked forward, picked up the piece of paper in his mouth and motioned with
it toward her. She read it, then patted him on the head.

"It looks as if you learned a valuable lesson today Baby Boy," she said.

He nodded in total agreement.

Tori untied her human toy and this time gave him permission to kiss only the
bottoms of her bare feet. He did as he was told, kissing and licking the sole
of each foot as she held it above his face.

"Thank you Mistress," he said.

She yanked him to his knees, sat on his back and ordered him to crawl
upstairs. He complied, as always. He had no choice but to obey her. He knew no
other way.

In the bedroom he lied flat on his stomach while she stood on him changing her
clothes. He was a doormat for his muscular wife, literally and figuratively.

She ate the nightly dinner that he had prepared for her while he sat on the
floor, his left hand on her chair under her butt so that she controlled him
even while eating. When she finished he cleaned the table, put the dishes in
the washer and carried her into the living room. Only then was he allowed to
have his meal, kneeling on the floor, eating out of a dog dish without the
benefit of utensils.

He then joined his wife, once again on his hands and knees, serving as a human
footstool. She rested her bare feet on his back while she read the paper,
watched TV and talked on the phone.

Tori took great satisfaction in being in control, having reached the stage in
their relationship that he didn't dare question her no matter how cruelly she
treated him.

She began a new set of instructions for her servant while she changed clothes
in the bedroom, walking around on her husband's back for her pleasure as she
formulated the plan.

"Next Friday I am going to host a dinner party for the other partners in the
firm," she announced.

There were seven partners. Tori was the lone female and at least a dozen years
younger than the others.

"You will cook the meal and serve as waiter," she told him. She began
detailing the menu that she wanted, from a shrimp cocktail for openers to
After Eight mints following dessert. "And you will mow the lawn tomorrow."

"Yes Mistress," he replied to every command. He was not allowed to address his
wife by name.

Tori planned to dominate her future husband years before she married, before
she even met Mark Rice. She knew she could control any man. The only thing
that surprised her was how quickly he had accepted their relationship, how he
understood his inferiority and now relished his role as her servant.

Mark grunted as Tori stepped into her 3-inch heels, purposely grinding each
one into his weakened body. He had no idea where she was going this Saturday
night and knew better than to ask. When she placed each foot along side of her
husband, he knew this was the signal to get up to his hands and knees so that
she could ride his back downstairs.

When they arrived at the front door Tori stood up and Mark as always kissed
each of her buttocks through her black leather skirt for exactly 10 seconds.
Every day since returning from the honeymoon Tori Cavanaugh made her husband
kiss her clothed ass. She loved this ritual, another sign of her husband's
acceptance of her total domination. Whenever she returned home he had to be
waiting at the door, on hands and knees, prepared to remove her shoes the
second she stepped into the door, kiss her feet and be ridden upstairs.

The most amazing aspect of their relationship was that Mark was totally in
love with his mistress. He considered himself lucky to be her slave.

The night of the dinner party he was dressed in a tux. He greeted each of
Tori's business partners as they arrived, offered them a seat and asked what
each wanted to drink. Tori was nowhere to be seen. He was not allowed to join
in their conversation, instead, returning to the kitchen to make final
preparations for dinner.

Mark had attended only two parties conducted by the firm. At both he walked
behind Tori, stood aside while she conversed with the partners and clients and
was not allowed to speak unless spoken to. The partners noticed the unusual
behavior, but made no comment. Now Tori's husband appeared to serving as their
waiter.

When one inquired of Tori's whereabouts, he replied that she would be joining
them shortly After approximately 20 minutes Mark announced to the partners
that dinner was served. Fancy place cards, depicting a judge and jury, had
been set in front of each seat, three on each side of the table.

A moment later something happened that stunned all six men. Mark the Butler
returned, this time appearing from the living room, carrying Tori in his arms.
She was attired in a blue dress, her auburn hair done, and looked stunning.

Mark carefully placed his Mistress in the chair at the head of the table. He
bent over slightly and Tori gently kissed his cheek.

"You may now serve dinner Baby Boy," she commanded.

The partners stared at each other in disbelief. Tori's husband wasn't merely
playing the role of waiter. He was her slave.

The roast beer dinner was delicious. Tori enjoyed the meal even more, sitting
at the head of the table, in a position of authority over the other six
partners. After a dessert of key lime pie, Tori announced that dinner was
finished. Mark obediently carried his wife into the den, placing her carefully
in a maroon recliner while the men followed.

"Have a seat guys," invited Tori.

Mark quickly returned with a box of cigars, offering one to each partner and
then to his wife. He bit off the end of the one she had chosen, lit it for
her, then placed it in her mouth. He then bent down, removed his wife's shoes
and kissed her feet. He quickly positioned himself on his hands and knees
while Tori used her husband as a human footstool.

"Why do you treat your husband like that?" asked one of the partners.

"Because I can," she replied. "And he's powerless to stop me."

"But you treat him like a dog," protested another.

"You want to see a dog?" Tori shot back. "Go get your leash Baby Boy."

Mark waited until Tori removed her feet from his back, then scurried on his
hands and knees out of the room. He returned shortly with a dog's leash
between his teeth.

The men watch in stunned silence as Tori placed the collar around her
husband's neck and pulled it tight. Mark was on his knees, his hands in front
of his chest like two paws.

"OK, lay down," ordered Tori. "Roll over. Sit up. Beg."

Mark followed each command like a well trained canine.

Tori then reached into the pocket of the recliner, pulled out a yellow tennis
ball and tossed it into the far corner of the room. Mark didn't move until
Tori ordered "fetch," then scampered after the ball, returning with it between
his teeth.

None of the partners had ever seen anything like it.

"It's simple female domination," explained Tori to the puzzled men. "Baby Boy
was under the mistaken impression when we married that we would be equals. I
desired a different type of relationship."

"Does he agree to all of this?" asked the eldest partner, who was 61.

"At first he didn't," said Tori. "He exhibited some foolish male pride. I had
to beat him quite severely in the beginning. And I'll remind you that he was a
quite strong man at the time, outweighing me by 55 pounds. The silly boy even
wanted to keep his job, even though I earned more than twice as much and was
more than capable of supporting both of us.

"First I broke his body, then his mind, and finally his will. He now
understands the concept of total obedience, and really has no other choice.
Isn't that right Baby Boy?"

Mark nodded with a smile on his face. Tori removed the tennis ball from her
husband's mouth and once again he bent over to kiss her feet.

"Thank you Mistress," he said, then resumed his position on his hands and
knees, waiting for her to place her feet on his back.

"Gentlemen, Baby Boy has no need to hear the rest of this conversation," she
announced.

She took a blindfold and ear plugs from the recliner and placed them on her
husband. Once again Mark thanked his Mistress for the privilege of being
totaled dominated by a superior female.

Tori Cavanaugh had delivered a clear message to her partners.

"Now gentlemen, would anyone here like to arm wrestle me?"