Novel: The Ghost of Agatha: Part 16 (Patreon)

Nathan bolted upright the next morning, heart pounding with fresh energy despite the heavy ache still locked inside his chastity cage. Sunlight streamed through the bedroom windows as he sprang from the bed, completely naked, the metal cage swinging between his thighs.

His cock had swollen overnight, pressing hard against the iron metal, and a fresh bead of precum already glistened at the tip. He didn't bother with clothes. Instead he dropped to his knees for a moment, forehead to the floor, whispering, "Thank you, Mistress," before rising to begin his tasks.

He started in the dining room, gathering every piece of tarnished silver. He worked on his knees, polishing each fork, spoon, and candlestick until they shone. The cage tugged and pressed with every movement, keeping him constantly aware of his locked state.

Every few minutes a sharp crack landed across his presented ass from the riding crop that seemed to appear from nowhere. The sting bloomed hot and perfect. He gasped, tears springing to his eyes, but they were tears of joy.

"Thank you, Mistress," he cried out each time, voice thick with devotion. His cock leaked steadily, a thin string of precum dangling from the cage and dripping onto the floor.

When the silver gleamed, he moved to the long hallways. Naked, he bent low to dust and paint the skirting boards, ass pushed out and back arched exactly as she liked. The crop snapped again whenever his pace slowed, striking the same tender spots until they glowed red.

Each strike made him cry out louder, tears rolling down his cheeks while his cock throbbed uselessly inside the cage. "Thank you, Mistress!" he repeated after every lash, the words becoming a mantra that fueled him. His ass burned, his thighs trembled, yet he worked faster, painting with steady strokes and dusting every inch.

Throughout the day the manor echoed with the sound of the crop and his grateful sobs. He paused often before her portraits, looking up with wet eyes. "Thank you so much, Mistress. I miss you so much," he told each painting.

The painted version of Agatha watched him with that strict, proud expression, lips curved in clear approval. Her eyes seemed to follow him, commanding him onward. He felt her presence in every room, guiding his naked body, correcting his posture, and rewarding his tears with another sharp strike when he needed motivation.

By evening his ass was striped and tender, the cage soaked with constant leaking, but he stood straighter, prouder, knowing she was pleased. He whispered one final "Thank you, Mistress" to the largest portrait before heading upstairs, already aching for the next full moon when she would return in full force.

That night Nathan stood naked before the full-length mirror in his bedroom, turning slowly to admire the dozen bright red crop marks striping his ass. Each line stood out vivid against his skin, throbbing with a sweet ache that made his locked cock twitch inside the cage.

A steady drip of precum leaked from the chastity cage, trailing down his thigh as he reached back to trace one of the welts with trembling fingers.

"Thank you, Mistress," he whispered to the empty room, voice thick with longing. He pressed his ass out, presenting it exactly as she had trained him, and watched another bead of clear fluid swell and fall from the cage tip.

The sight of her marks on his body filled him with pride and desperate need. He knew she would return soon, and the thought made his balls tighten painfully against the steel.

Nathan climbed into bed still naked, the chastity cage cool against his skin. He lay on his stomach so the crop marks would not press against the sheets, feeling every sting as a reminder of her control. His cock pulsed uselessly, leaking steadily onto the mattress while he stared at the moonlit window.

"I miss you so much, Mistress," he murmured one last time before closing his eyes.

Nathan drifted into sleep, the red crop marks on his ass still throbbing as he sank deeper into the dream. The world shifted around him, and suddenly he was naked, secured to the St. Andrews cross in the manor's dungeon.

Thick leather cuffs locked his wrists high and wide above his head, while matching restraints held his ankles spread at the base. The cold wood pressed against his chest and thighs, leaving his marked ass completely exposed.

Agatha materialized behind him, her tall black boots clicking on the stone floor. She raised the heavy flogger and brought it down across his ass in a steady rhythm. Each impact sent sharp heat blooming through the welts already there.

"Good boy," she purred, her voice low and commanding. "I've been watching you renovate the manor, scrubbing floors, polishing every surface. Such devotion from my little slut."

She paused only to reach between his spread legs and attach the ball crushers. The cold metal cups closed around his balls, and she turned the screws slowly. The pressure built until his balls were crushed in a constant, aching grip. Nathan moaned, the sound mixing pleasure and pain as she laughed softly. "That's it, feel every turn. You consent to all of this, don't you?"

"Yes, Mistress," he gasped, his voice trembling. "Thank you, Mistress."

Agatha tightened the crushers further, wrenching them until his balls throbbed in unrelenting pressure. She watched his body jerk against the cross, amused by every desperate sound. "Good boy," she repeated, then moved to his chest. She clipped the nipple clamps with small bells onto his sensitive nipples. The bells jingled with every breath and shift of his body.

She stepped around to face him, her leather-clad form towering close. Without warning she spat directly into his face, the warm saliva sliding down his cheek. "I've been looking forward to this as much as you have," she said with a cruel smile. Then she moved behind him again and resumed the flogging, the flogger's tails raining down on his already striped ass in heavy, rhythmic strikes.

Each blow made the bells on his nipples ring loudly, the sound echoing through the dungeon with every movement. Nathan hung there, balls crushed tight, nipples clamped and jingling, ass burning under the flogger as Agatha continued her work, her laughter filling the space between the impacts.

The dream shifted abruptly. Nathan found himself bent over the padded bench in the dungeon, thick leather straps locking his wrists and ankles down so his ass remained raised and vulnerable. The chastity cage hung heavy between his spread thighs, already leaking steadily onto the floor. Agatha stood behind him, her massive ten-inch leather strap-on glistening with lube as she lined it up.

She gripped a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back sharply, forcing him to stare straight into the large mirror mounted on the wall. Their eyes met in the reflection—hers cold and commanding, his glassy with desperate need.

"Look at yourself, bitch," she growled, driving the thick strap-on deep into his ass in one smooth thrust. Nathan cried out as it stretched him wide, the pressure intense and unrelenting. She began fucking him hard, each powerful stroke slamming into him while she kept his head pulled back by the hair.

Her free hand came down in sharp slaps across his already marked ass. "That's it, take every inch like the bitch you are," she snarled, punctuating each word with another slap. The bells on his nipple clamps jingled wildly with every thrust.

Tears of love and overwhelming submission welled in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks as he watched himself in the mirror—naked, caged, impaled, and completely owned.

"Yes, Mistress! Thank you, Mistress!" he sobbed between moans, his voice breaking. "Please fuck me harder, Mistress! I consent to all of it—use me, ruin me, thank you, Mistress!"

Agatha laughed darkly and slammed into him deeper, her hips snapping forward in a relentless rhythm while she continued slapping his ass. "Beg for more, bitch," she ordered, yanking his hair tighter.

Nathan's tears streamed freely as he obeyed, choking out desperate pleas for more while the massive strap-on pounded his ass without mercy, his body shaking under the dual assault of pain and ecstatic surrender.

The dream dissolved like mist, pulling Nathan into a new scene where he knelt naked on the grass, wrists shackled together in front of him and ankles locked close behind. The tight chastity cage gripped his cock, a steady drip of precum marking the path as Agatha tugged the leash attached to his collar. Her crop tapped his ass in firm, guiding strikes, forcing his back straight and his head high while she walked him in slow circles around the garden paths.

He glanced up at her tall leather form, boots gleaming, and the words slipped out before he could stop them. "I love you, Mistress."

Agatha looked down with a knowing smile. "Shush," she said softly. The thick penis gag materialized between his lips, stretching his mouth wide and silencing any further sounds as the straps buckled behind his head.

She resumed leading him, the crop landing with precise taps whenever his posture slipped, until they reached a stone bench beneath the trees.

She sat and patted the ground beside her. Nathan lowered himself to sit like a dog at her feet, knees spread, ass resting on his heels. Her gloved hand settled on his head, fingers stroking through his hair.

"There is one way to allow you to spend every second with me, but it comes at a cost."