Mud Sticks
Regular prison-visitor mistress, mistress Karen madam, likes to bring in some good, honest, Gynarchy earth from the female world outside in order to spread it all over my confined head and face. You can see from the mud stains stuck to her boots that she has been deliberately walking around in the muddiest areas of a nearby park in order to collect my ‘menial mud pack’ as she affectionately calls it.
She verbally mocks me as her dainty, rubber-gloved fingers eventually reach my eyelids:
‘Here’s mud in your eye, slave!’
How she laughs! And why does she so enjoy smearing my face in mud? Because mud sticks – and she knows that when my guard-mistresses see it they will whip me for dirtying up not just my face, but also the floor of my ‘nice clean cell’, thereby getting mud onto their equally nice and shiny, black leather, uniform boots.
Of course, the guard-mistresses will know full well that it was visitor-mistress Karen who actually muddied up my face and my cell floor, because they are in collusion with her. But it ill-behoves me – a mere prisoner-slave – to seek to muddy the waters by protesting my male innocence!
There is, however, another reason why esteemed prison-visitor mistress, mistress Karen madam, likes to smear mud onto my face – simply because she can; and because there’s nothing I can do to stop her. I am at her mercy, and she revels in that sense of absolute female power over me.
It’s as clear as mud!
