Bridget the Subdomme

"Well...I guess I do."

My immense relief was short-lived because Bridget stepped forward and drove her knee deep into my groin with all her strength. I felt my balls compress against my pubic bone and I yelped like an animal as my legs gave out, bringing me to the floor instantly in a crumpled, writhing heap. I gasped for breath desperately with both hands tightly clutching my crotch. All thoughts of pride or dignity were forgotten. The only thing I wanted in the world was for the terrible gut-wrenching pain to stop.

Somewhere above, I heard Bridget's voice. "Oh, well—maybe I really am a bitch."

And then Lucy's cruel, wild laughter. At some point, I passed out.

I was still seriously aching with each movement the next day. Soaking in a hot tub helped, but I found myself limping from room to room while doing my chores, and needing to sit down every few minutes to let the pain in my swollen testicles subside.

At lunchtime, I ate in my humble corner of the kitchen as always. The three dommes sat at the main table and discussed me as if I wasn't even there. Lucy was the last to finish, and Bridget walked in as she was leaving.

"Hey Bridget," nice going last night" Lucy said.

Bridget lit up at the compliment. "Thank you, Miss Lucy."

"That'll show him what happens when he grabs a girl. Still nursing his poor little testes. Aren't you, slave?"

Lucy walked over to me with Bridget following. Their attention was the last thing I wanted.

"Are they all black and blue and swollen?" Lucy asked. "When you've got those vulnerable little organs dangling between your legs, it's pretty stupid to manhandle girls, isn't it?"

She and Bridget burst out laughing at my agonized expression. Then it was Bridget's turn with me.

"I hope your learned your lesson about twisting girls' arms and lying," said Bridget. "I told you you'd be sorry. Aren't you sorry now?"

I chose the easiest path, since I had no energy to resist her. "Yes, Bridget."

To my surprise, Bridget bent over and gave me an "Eskimo kiss," rubbing her nose against mine. I knew that it wasn't an affectionate gesture. She did it purely to humiliate me even further.

Both women laughed again. Then Lucy suddenly grabbed my chin in her hand. Aren't you glad that Bridget's living with us now? How does it feel to be a doormat's doormat?"

Before I could say a word, she pulled away her hand and spat in my face forcefully. Bridget followed her lead and did the same, spraying my face with thick globs of saliva. Both of them were falling over themselves with laughter at my shocked expression. Done with her sport, Lucy took Bridget's hand and pulled her toward the door, leaving me to wallow in pain and misery. Bridget glanced back on her way out with another smug grin and some parting words.

"Get used to it, dickless!"

I sat and wept despite myself as I clutched my aching groin and looked for a napkin to wipe the girls' saliva from my face. I had been living in Mistress Stephanie's house for two years and had resigned myself to life as a male submissive for three dommes. Life could be tough there, but the physical and emotional trials had at least become fairly predictable. The women were brutal at times, true, but sometimes they also treated me well—or at least mercifully. Now everything had become radically worse with Bridget's arrival. Submitting to a female sub was unbearable for me, and I couldn't complain to Mistress Stephanie because she took Bridget's word over mine. This meant that I was at Bridget's mercy, and she knew it. A girl sub slapping me...spitting in my face...kneeing me in the balls...calling me "dickless," and I had to endure all of it! This just couldn't continue. There had to be a way out.

That afternoon, I approached Mistress Stephanie with my heart pounding. I respectfully reminded her how she'd told me two years earlier that although it was my lot in life to serve strong women, she would allow me to leave the house for good if I ever truly chose to.

"Of course, there wouldn't be much point in it," she'd said at the time. "You aren't a real man and will always need strong women to guide you. In a week, you'd probably be begging me to let you come back...and of course I'd be telling you to fuck off."

And now it seemed the time had come. Mistress Stephanie didn't seem terribly surprised.

"I have no objection if that's really what you want. I can make one phone call and have ten male slaves fighting each other for the chance to serve me. Are you sure about your choice?"

"Yes, Mistress. I am sure. Thank you so much."

Now it would just be a matter of packing my things and finding someplace to stay temporarily. I could worry about more permanent arrangements later.

"Oh, of course there is that other thing," she added.

"Excuse me, Mistress? I don't understand."

"Lucy and Erica should be fine with you leaving. But now that you serve Bridget, you'll need her approval too."

"And he doesn't have my approval." The voice came from the second floor. It was Bridget, and she was headed down the stairs with eyes blazing at me.

When she reached us, she looked at Mistress Stephanie and continued.

"I don't see how he can leave us, Mistress. He behaves well for you and Miss Lucy and Miss Erica. But he's still holding on to some kind of stupid male pride. I think he needs to stay and learn his true place so he'll never forget it. He needs to learn once and for all that he's worth even less than a humble sub like me...and I know the perfect way to teach him."