Major Edwin Kilpatrick (rtd) leaned back in his chair, whiskey in
hand, contemplating the screen in front of him.


         TEN D/S COUPLES NEEDED FOR ENDURANCE TYPE CONTEST
	       FIRST PRIZE: ONE MILLION DOLLARS!
  
   Home Showcase is inviting Dominant / submissive couples to
   participate in a contest for an upcoming pay per view special to
   be broadcast in the near future.


Kilpatrick frowned and again checked the 'sent by' information that
came with this email. He knew just from looking that it was one of
those anonymous services, and one of the better ones at that. Someone
had gone to some lengths to make sure he wouldn't know who had sent
this.

The Major wasn't surprised, a stickler for online security himself he
approved of the sender's discretion. Yet the Marine in him still
thought that security was only good when it was YOUR side using it.
Information won battles, and it didn't matter if those battle were
fought with blood and steel between men of honor, or fought with words
with people who didn't even realize they were part of the game.

'He who knows the most, wins the war!' was a favorite saying of his.

But there was nothing he could do about it at the moment, although he
wasn't totally without resources. A call to an old Marine buddy who
still worked in Naval Intelligence would give him the identity of the
sender in a matter of days. If he needed to make that move he would.

Still, the body of the message was interesting indeed.

He was well aware of Home Showcase and the kinds of things they put on
their controversial, but highly rated cable channel, so the contest was
not out of character. There were links to a website embedded in the
message giving him a little more information about the contest, but
that wasn't nearly as important as the conformation that it was all
real. The Major now knew that there WAS going to be a contest,
broadcast on television, with a Million Dollar prize for the couple
that made it to the end.

It was a challenge, and Kilpatrick was never one to back down from a
challenge. His military career had been filled with challenges and he
never backed away from any of them, even when one of them meant his
being 'forced' into early retirement.

The Major no longer growled at the way he had been kicked out of the
Marine Corp after nineteen years of faithful service. At the time it
had seemed like a huge injustice. But once he had calmed down he did as
he was told like the good soldier that he was.

He looked at the invitation on the screen and thought about it for a
moment. Yes it was a challenge, and the Major LOVED a challenge, and
the first step was getting to be one of the initial ten couples invited
on the show!

He saw that as the hardest part, as it would mean competing against
others he couldn't see or do anything about. But once on the show, the
enemy would be revealed and he was sure his military mind could out
plan the lot of them.

'Civilians all,' he thought, 'weak and undisciplined! Not a problem.'

Kilpatrick stood up, his thoughts about discipline reminding him of a
task he had yet to do. He walked across his Spartan den to a series of
bookshelves where he took out three books from one of the upper
shelves. Behind them was a switch which he flipped before tugging on
the bookshelf. It moved silently on well oiled hinges and opened to
reveal a locked door. The Major selected a key from a large bunch on
his belt and opened it, passing through to the room beyond.

This room was also extremely neat. No messes around the Major! It was
also very differently furnished as this was his play room. Various
devices of torture and bondage were mounted at intervals around this
large room, all looking brand new despite the years of wear on some of
them. A lot of them he had built himself, being a handy man with tools,
but many he had lovingly purchased over time with money realized by the
trust fund of his late wife. That and his Marine pension enabled him to
indulge full time in his little hobby.

The little hobby in question was crouched in a tiny cage just barely
big enough to contain her. Naked, except for a metal ring around her
neck, she knelt in a fetal position which was the only way she could
fit inside the cage.

She didn't look up, couldn't really, at Kilpatrick's approach but he
did see her stiffen when she heard him.

Kilpatrick smiled.

Without a word he unlocked the cage and opened one end, then without
looking back he strode over to the middle of the room. The girl in the
cage made no move to leave it.

Kilpatrick turned and watched her for a moment, then began.

"Out!" he ordered smartly.

The girl pushed herself out of the cage, emerging like a butterfly out
of a cocoon at a speed you would not have thought possible looking at
how tightly packed she had been. But the girl had by now plenty of
practice exiting the cage and had all the moves down pat. She ought to
have had considering all the drilling the Major had forced on her. So,
stiff and sore, she was on her feet in seconds at attention.

"Left face!" ordered Kilpatrick, and the girl did a perfect military
turn, her bare foot thumping the concrete floor and her breasts
wobbling from side to side due to the quickness of her action. She now
faced the Major but kept her eyes facing straight ahead, focused on the
opposite wall. She knew to her error the penalties of looking directly
at him at the wrong times.

"Forward, two paces, MARCH!" was the next command, and the nude girl
executed them smartly.

Kilpatrick then began his inspection. He noted the deep red marks
across her knees, shins, and feet from the lattice on the bottom of the
cage. She had just spent the last ten hours in there with nothing soft
to protect her flesh. The bars of the lattice were wide enough not to
cut into her skin, but only just.

Other marks decorated her body, some fresh, some old. Whip and cane
marks across her back and buttocks, a few burns on her breasts and
thighs from cigarettes, and plenty of bruises and marks made by straps,
cuffs, chains, rope, and whatever else was on hand at various times to
bind her with.

As Kilpatrick walked around her he noted all these marks and wondered
how they would look on TV and grew concerned. The bleeding hearts
might complain, he thought, so he decided to lay off the hard stuff for
a while so she could better heal up.

His thoughts were unknown to the girl of course, all she could see in
her immediate future was another day of misery. She carefully eyed
the open door of the room but knew that a try for it was hopeless. She
had made that mistake over a year before only to find that the door
beyond WAS locked. She ended up cowering in fear as the Major walked
slowly over to her. It had been a week since she had been able to walk
again.

So she stood stock still as her tormentor examined every inch of her
body. She had long ago resigned herself to his scrutiny, and the looks
of the few that he allowed to see her. Her body was scarcely hers
anymore anyway. He decided everything about it now, even her toilet
functions. But it was her own damn fault.

She was jerked back to the present by the Major who came around and
stood right in front of her. Kilpatrick was not a tall man, in fact
the girl with her bare feet was the exact same height as the Major in
his boots. But he was a big man, well muscled, with a lethal air about
him. As a soldier he had 'Command Presence', code for an air of "Don't
you DARE mess with me because I can whip your ass without breaking a
sweat!"

The girl was scared to death of him!

"You're going to need a haircut soon," Kilpatrick said to her. He
kept her hair at military regulation length, regulation for men that
is. He quickly tired long ago of her long hair getting in the way.

"Yes, Major," she answered, then she wondered if she should have. When
he spoke to her she was supposed to answer, but there were times when
it was hard to know if he was speaking rhetorically. She held her
breath.

Kilpatrick knew of her dilemma, there was very little mystery left in
her. He even caught her glance at the door a minute before even though
he had been standing behind her at the time. Her head had turned for
just a fraction, making him smile.

It had taken him a long time to break her down, using a combination of
boot camp mentality and harsh discipline but he had taken her down to
basics. Now he was in the process of rebuilding her the way he wanted
her and he was rather pleased with his progress. Six months ago he
wouldn't have dreamed of entering a contest such as the one he had just
found out about, but he was confident that his control over the girl
was sufficient for the task ahead of him.

Then and there he decided to put in an entry and he was determined to
win!

"Laundry duty, then lunch at 11:30 hours," he told her.

"Yes, Major," she answered, waiting for the final command.

Major Edwin Kilpatrick (ret), formally of the United States Marine
Corp, waited a beat, admiring the quivering body before him, muscles
sculpted though arduous work outs. Then he gave the command.

"Dismissed!"

As the girl ran quickly out of the room to her duties, Kilpatrick
smiled once more at what lay in store for them. Then he frowned.

"Damn," he said to himself. "I guess I'll have to find a name for her
now!"


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