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Glen stared down at her, has anger slowly softening, but rather than compassion he realized that contempt and disgust shared his feelings. She was saying all the right things, but to Glen they sounded hollow the second time around. Somehow he had to knock some sense into her, make her realize that their relationship could not go on if she continued to let jealousy rule her.
He was sorely tempted to do just as she asked, to beat the shit out of her. Right now, angry as he was, he would put her in the hospital and exposure would not be far behind. His dark side was fighting a holy war with the part of him that wanted Amy, that wanted her as a slave, but also one to cherish and care for as part of his life.
One of the bad parts was that he suddenly felt that she was dictating to him. Their brief interlude of making Amy specify her own punishments had -- to him at least -- turned into topping him from the bottom.
Amy was at her best when she was† perched on the brink of climax. In their few short days together she had demonstrated a mind full of bondage ideas, creative, cruel, imaginative.
He had yet to realize that Amy felt the same way about him. She would suggest something and he would refine it or add the last thrilling touch that it needed.
Hanging over this was this damned business of her lie, and the strange attraction it represented for a cage. He couldnít imagine what that was all about, but at the moment it seemed to be the focal point for Amyís problems.
He started, lost in thought. She was looking up, pleading. Shocked, he realized her eyes were bright. Not sparkling, but the grey blankness was gone.
When his eyes focused, she pleaded, "Glen, Master, please beat your stubborn, jealous slave. Make me scream my apologies for causing you such harm."
He centered on Ďslave.í She was still his, if he could find the right way to handle her. He was rapidly learning a lesson in the problems slave ownership could bring.
"Shut up, slave!"
Her mouth dropped open. He had never treated her that bluntly. She was attuned to the tone of voices and this was a Glen she had yet to meet. Certainly it got her full attention.
"Slave, do you realize that you are piling on punishments faster than I can mete them out? Remember your vow? You are my property and you are, and have been, under strict orders to preserve and protect MY property -- and NOT to harm or damage it. Think what youíre asking -- a beating that would put you in the hospital and me in jail."
Glen was repeating himself, trying to impress on Amy just how serious her jealousy was jeopardizing their lives together.
Glen watched as her head sank lower and lower. He had the feeling that his words -- his concern -- was finally getting through to her.
Barely above a whisper came her words, the words he hoped she would say, "Punish me as you wish, Master. I beg proper punishment for my mistakes and faults."
"Slave, that could take several years." Glen could feel, and Amy could hear in his bantering tone a lessening of the tension between them.
"Youíll need to piss. It will be a long time until the next pit stop."
It felt good to have a manís hands cleaning and drying her most private parts. The good feeling was short-lived. Apprehension over her impending punishment took over. She had to shut her mind down almost completely to avoid the images of probable punishments. She had no way of knowing that her wildest dreams were way off the mark.
This time her leash took her to the unfinished dungeon. There were two or three new additions, shapes looming under heavy wrapping. In the far corner was the unexpected.
All it was was a slab of rock just big enough for a person to lie on. But that was not Ďall.í
As Amy was led toward it she recognized it as sandstone. It was mounted on a heavy framework of iron. Hanging on each side were manacles and matching shackles at the foot. What little composure she had regained shattered in an instant and the shards disappeared into thin air.
As Glen removed all her chains, including the cuffs that had never left her wrists, he began explaining.
"This is going to be a lesson in obeying orders. Strictly obeying orders. I expect you to come out at the conclusion begging to obey any order given you."
She stood, naked without her chains, waiting for the next shoe to drop.
"Give me your hand."
It was uproariously funny. Amy had been handcuffed for so long that she automatically raised both hands in unison, then realizing her mistake dropping the unwanted hand to her side.
He took her wrist and pulled her to the rock slab. Bending her arm he scraped the underside across the edge of the slab.
"Ouch!" Amyís involuntary cry registered pain. Glen turned her arm over and showed it to her. The sharp edged rock had scraped the top layer of skin away, leaving a rapidly reddening path.
"Touch the stone."
Reluctantly she pressed the very tips of her fingers, wincing as she felt the sharp angular grains of the raw rock.
"Put your whole hand on it."
Gingerly she obeyed. It felt like the obvious, a sheet of course-grained sandpaper. She already knew she didnít want whatever was coming and the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that her mind was already digesting what was coming.
Glen picked her up like a feather and laid her on her back. Her legs hung down from her knees against a near vertical slab of he same rock.
Amy looked at him out of the corners of her eyes. She was terrified of having to move. Her Master made that clear in a brief comment, "You are here to learn to obey. You have one rule: Do NOT move."
Amy wanted to respond as a good slave would, but she was uncertain just how much her one order affected. Talking required movement. She dreaded the rock already and she had only been lying on it for a few seconds.
She felt her hanging arms being manacled. The action moved her arms against the rock, scraping across the sharp points. Her calves suffered the same way as the shackles were locked around her ankles.
Glen leaned over her with a parting word:
"Some Masters use sandpaper on their slaveís nipples to ensure they are sensitive. There are other places I can use it too."
Her eyes were locked on his, the terror bright. She was afraid to move her eyes, certain it would hurt. She settled in, sure that it would be a long time before she saw his face again.
Lying without moving for five minutes is a strain. Amy was due some heavy multiples of five minutes. She assessed her chances of emerging from this punishment with a whole skin as a minus number. Very shortly after being laid down on the saw toothed rock she discovered that merely blinking hurt, reminding her with each pang the exact reasons why she was being disciplined.
She tried closing her eyes -- which hurt -- but somehow the rockís threat wrecked her sense of balance and she felt like she was falling. Her next panic attack came as she considered taking a nap. She moved in her sleep. A nap was out of the question unless she wanted to wake up screaming.
She set the few remaining coherent brain cells the task of keeping her body as unmoving as the rock beneath her. They took on the task with appropriate comments: "Youíre joking, right? You got to be kidding. Are you out of your mind?"
The back of her head had a fair amount of her hair between her skull and the rock. It still hurt, more with every passing minute. By the time she would be released she would be able to count every hair as a separate hurt.
She had time to think. Lots of time. Hours, perhaps days. She visualized emptying her bladder. It hurt just thinking about it.
She called her Master a very nasty name -- in her mind. She had to bow to his superior skill, but she would wait to bow until she was off of his latest painful invention.
She could tell that her legs were spread fully apart. What if Glen came back and... She refused to carry that thought even an inch farther. She was certain she would get screaming practice, one way or another.
Her next thought scared her even more. If Glen came back with a feather... Thrashing was out of the question. She very nearly shuddered at the thought, catching herself before anything moved. Her brain kept sending messages: "Iím a prisoner in my own body!"
"Master, youíre a bastard to do this to me. But, I deserve it."
It took an eon to arrange and compose her thoughts. The next eon was devoted to counting her many sins, one by one. Each got a vow of obedience. Each marked a new level of discomfort as her body refused to conform to the rock beneath her. Her mind started calling him "Baster."
Master loomed over her. "Comfy?" He didnít expect an answer and wasnít disappointed when she just stared at him. He had been watching her on the monitor, pleasantly surprised by her obedience.
He showed her a glass with ice cubes and a straw. She stared, unmoving as he placed the icy glass against her neck and pressed the straw through her dry lips. She sucked. Sucking hurt. She swallowed. Guess. She finished the glass.
ĎBasterí took an ice cube out of the glass and laid it in her belly button. She was rigid, even when the cube melted and the icy liquid ran across her belly. Without a word he left again.
On his next visit he showed her a packet of itching powder, then sprinkled it on her pussy. She suffered the itching sensation for half an hour before she finally realized the powder was a fake.
She swore at her overworked nervous system for lying to her.
The powder made its point.
The next visit brought the inevitable. Glen laid a long chicken feather across her nose. She crossed her eyes trying to see it, trying vainly to prepare her first scream.
He never said a word. The tip of the feather touched her lower belly very gently and was gone. She called her Master a lengthy string of names, inventing three new ones to add to the list.
She was far off, behind some distant sun when he came back the final time. His face was grim. She moved her eyes very slightly, acknowledging his presence, her head exploding into a nova.
"Are you ready to obey orders?"
Ignoring the pain, shutting it away, she nodded. With mounting horror she hear his sentence of doom, "Nobody said you could move. Weíll try again later."
Even crying hurt.
The last hour made a critical difference in Amyís attitude. She stopped cursing her Master and started seriously cursing herself. She was overwhelmed with shame, unable to think of a rule she hadnít broken, the full impact of her foolhardiness washing over her. She abandoned the last wisps of jealousy, cursing them as they evaporated from her mind. Her pride dissolved in a bucket of tears, her willfulness close behind. A very changed Amy lay on the stone, a change that Glen welcomed when he saw it in her eyes.
"You may move. I want vocal answers."
"Yes, Master." Her voice was faint.
"Are you ready to obey orders?"
"Yes, Master." Her voice was stronger, fervent. Talking hurt, but she ignored it, hoping to please her Master.
"Will I have to punish you again for jealousy?"
She shook her head strenuously as she responded,
The pain in her scalp nearly broke her resolve.
She heard the key in the locks on her arms and legs. She willed her body rigid, vowing never to move against that stone.
Glen put his hands behind her neck and lifted. Her body came free of the stone, her knees straightened, their pain lost in the overall conflagration, until she was standing upright. She held the pose for a moment, then slumped in Glenís arms. She recovered almost at once. Looking up she begged, "Master, I beg the chance to obey your orders."
She vowed, "Master I will obey any order willingly. I have put jealousy behind me."
Glen accepted her words but he couldnít help reminding her, "Next time you play on the rock it will be a lot longer and you will experience real itching powder -- and the feather."
Amy responded,"Master I deserved this, and more. I promise to try to never do anything that would put me back on that... rock."
"That rock, dear girl is a permanent part of your torture... um, punishment chamber. You screw up in the slightest and its nice comfortable surface will be waiting for you. Iím sure I can find some other things to make your stay less enjoyable. Now, before we do anything else, you kneel and properly thank the rock for supporting you all day."
She Ďalmostí said something, but orders are orders and she knelt and delicately kissed the rock, barely brushing it with her lips.
"Thank you rock, for my day of contemplation."†
She waited for permission to rise. Instead she got bossed, "Youíre a better kisser than that! Put some tongue into it and fasten on with your lips."
Obediently she leaned forward and put pucker power into her kiss. One swipe of her tongue and it felt like a swarm of hornets had attacked en masse. She leaned back, certain her lips and tongue were bleeding, but she felt almost smug. She had obeyed!
Before re-chaining her he led Amy to a full length mirror. She turned her back, looking over her shoulder. Other than a narrow gap just above her hips her back and thighs looked as red as an apple. She peered closer but couldnít see any blood anywhere, even when she turned for a close look at her lips and stuck out her tongue. She would have much preferred kissing Glen, but that would have to wait.
Once she was back under mutiple locks, Glen took her by the shoulders and made her look him in the eye. She could see the anger was gone from his eyes, even as he saw faint traces of the sparkle back in her eyes, replacing the jealousy and rebellion that so worried him.
"If a certain slave could make it to the top floor bedroom in record time there could be an excuse for her to spread her legs."
"Thank you, Master, Iíll do my best."
"Iím sure you will -- and to make sure, Iíll be right behind you, with my whip. Go!"
She giggled once, the first time in days he had heard her laugh.
Amyís ass cheeks and the backs of her thighs were smarting by the time they reached the top of the stairs. At a distinct disadvantage thanks to the weight of her chains, Amy still managed to give Glen a hard run up the stairs. Trying to get a proper shot with the whip also slowed his climb, but the red hue of her rear from the waist down attested to his athletic ability.††††† Both were breathing hard.
Glen pulled a quarter out of his pocket and flipped and caught it. He peered under his hand. "Tails. You get the bed, for now."
She started around the bed.
"Oops, wait a minute! Donít get over anxious. Which side do you want,† to get out of your chains? Damn if Iím going to lie on top of a steel mill to fuck you."
"Tails, please, Master."
He peered under his hand again. "Tails. Off with your head -- I mean your collar." Amy came back and stood while he fished the key out of his pocket. Locks bounced off the rug, followed by lengths of chain, her collar and belt. She thanked him and was around and on the bed with three of her restraints locked in place before Glen could get his pants off. He locked her near arm and tweaked her nipples in payment. For some reason Amy was breathing hard -- and ragged -- again.
Spoilsport looked down at her. "Remember, you are still being punished. You can enjoy to your heartís content, but no orgasms. DO I make myself clear?"
Slave was the epitome of demure. "Oh, yes, Master." He made a face at her to let her know he could see right through her, then turned and muttered loud enough for to hear, "Now what did I do with that darn feather?"
"Glen!" she squealed.
Deliberately he turned back to her. "Slave, were you by any chance addressing your Master?"
She knew instantly that this could go either way. She might be on her ass on the rug, without getting fucked -- or maybe he was just teasing. Either way called for an apology.
"Iím sorry, Master. Perhaps you can teach me to properly use my mouth."
"You do all right but the trouble is you start talking before your brain is in gear. Youíre pretty good at sucking cock so I canít fault you on that. Speaking of which would you like to suck me now?"
"Thank you, Master, but Iíd much prefer if you put it in my pussy."
"But, if I ordered you to suck my cock?"
"Iíd be on it before you finished your sentence. This is the new me. I obey. I follow orders."
He suggested, "I play with my pussy."
"Iím sorry, Master, but my hands seem to be hung up on something -- above my head."
"No excuse. You are disobeying an order. You need a good licking." For a split second she thought he meant his crop, the buggy whip, or worse.
Suiting words to action he crawled between her splayed legs and applied his talented tongue to a very tender, very sensitive, very nerve filled piece of her anatomy. The reaction was predictable. In seconds she was panting like a runner on Mount Everest, begging to be allowed to come.
"What did I tell you before we started?"
"You... Master, please! Said... I... Please, Master... Couldnít... Come."
"All right, if you can say the alphabet backwards, with no mistakes and no pauses longer than two seconds, you can come, once."
He resumed licking as she tried. "Z Y X W V..." and failed. Her mind was fully occupied elsewhere.
"Master, please, if you would stop licking I could do it."
"Not now, slave. You had your chance. Besides, I have a beat going here."
"Please, Master will you fuck your miserable slave?"
He stopped licking and raised up to look at her. She was holding her breath, hoping it would stave off the impending explosion. She couldnít hold it and exhaled so fast her lips fluttered noisily.
"I dunno. Are you wet enough for a good, fast, balls-deep fuck?"
"Master I have a Louisiana swamp between my legs. If that isnít wet enough Iíll give your cock a saliva bath. Please, just fuck me."
Master rammed a full charge straight up the breech of her cannon. One was enough for Amy. "Master, stop, please. Iím about to come!"
Exasperated, her Master stopped in mid-stroke. "Slave if I allow you to come will you be silent about it?"
"Then come. Iím busy. But, not a peep. Not one!"
He rammed his way to her cervix. She came, quiet as a mouse.
But, at what a cost. She swallowed a scream of ecstacy, nearly emptied her sinus, her eyes bugged out and her cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk.
Encouraged by her theatrics, Glen rammed to the bottom three times, then opened the 15 inch intake valve and added several thousand gallons to the swamp.
Both man and slave collapsed. Glen looked at the clock and it was nearly seven.
"Yes, Master. I donít remember when I ate last."
"If thatís a complaint I am head of the complaint department and I can impose a penalty, with impunity."
"No, no, Master, that wasnít a complaint. Iím fine!"
Glen unlocked her bonds, demanding a kiss for each one. After the fourth mouth swabbing by Amyís tongue, he decreed that this would be a regular part of her bondage routine.
For her it was back to her suit of chain. Glen decided that a kiss for each Ďoní would be gilding the lilly, so his decree only covered the removal of locked items. He did make her continue to kiss her leash each time it was attached to her collar.
"Do you want to cook, or shall we order in?"
"Master, Iím pooped. That inverted silent orgasm took a lot out of me, or top of my day on the rock. If you want me to cook, I will, gladly, but Iíd be happy with some pizza or Chinese."
Glen was up early, scooting Amy to the cell because both maids and the gardeners would be there all morning. He was watching Amy on the monitor, busily polishing chain links when Georgina, the housekeeper came in.† She was tall, slim and well built, with breasts appropriate to her height. She looked 20 years younger than her age of 61.
She looked over his shoulder and chuckled. "Got her in detention, eh?"
"Sheís been a bad girl." Briefly he explained her problems and the near catastrophe she had caused. Without any further preamble, Glen propositioned her.
"She Ďsaysí sheís no longer jealous. I want to test her, to make sure. Otherwise I have to keep a 24/7 watch on her, or lock her in the cell. Thatís where you come in."
"Me? What do you mean?"
What would you charge me to be my slave for 24 hours, fuck up a storm while Amy has to watch, and get your pussy vacuumed?
"By her? Thatís worth the price of admission right there. You know Iím a sucker for bondage. Hell, Iíd pay you for a day like that."
"Letís leave it at an even swap, then.Youíll be wearing chains most of the time. I might even have to gag you."
"Keep talking like that and Iíll have my first orgasm of the day, right here. I havenít seen that pecker of yours, but it must be satisfying to her, to put up with that cell. I havenít had this much fun since I left the porn studio. Oh, and just for the record, I checked clean on my last medical, last month."
"OK, but remember, the idea is to keep her frustrated. You can eat her, but not to orgasm. Sheís on a no-orgasm diet, with occasional lapses. She had one last night, but I think she was ready to pop again when I stopped. She still looked hot this morning."
Georgina laughed melodically. Iíve had plenty of experience doing that to men -- and even women. Youíd be surprised how many women dream of being kept frustrated for weeks, months, or even longer. I think your Amy falls right in that class."
"Oh, sheís at the head of that class."
He repeated her story of refusing to come for a month to get up courage enough to look for a Master. Georgina nodded, recognizing a kindred soul.
"That isnít the first time Iíve heard a story like that. Not by a long shot. My best was three days."
Glen was startled to see that her face was starting to flush. With his limited, but rapidly growing, experience as a Master, he had hardly expected to see a work-hardened Mistress blushing over some long past incident. Half joking, he asked, "This was when? Last week?"
Her head whipped around, tearing her eyes from Amy and instantly locked with his. Her mouth was open and her face showed shock.
"How did you? Who told..." She lapsed into silence. Her cheeks looked like red paint, or a bucket of rouge.
Glen couldnít help laughing.
"Just a guess. Not even an educated guess. Any time a professional Mistress offers a freeby, thereís got to be more going on behind the scenes. Care to tell me about it?"
She continued to stare. Her head snapped back and forth quickly, denying him an answer, then slowed and she suddenly began to speak, "Do you think itís easy for a 61-year-old to find a mate, OR a Master? There isnít one of the people I worked with that isnít dead or retired, or in jail. I worked as a Mistress, but at home my husband dominated me -- and I mean really dominated me. I literally had to have permission to breathe. He had a heart atttck, leaving me chained on a cross in the basement. They didnít find me for three days and I was a basket case for months afterward. All right, thatís the brief outline. I donít have time for the full story, which I think Amy should hear."†
He stood up. "Sit still, Iíll be right back."
He came back up the stairs with an object wrapped in a towel.
The order crackled with repressed power. Georgina was watching Amy again. She looked at Glen, momentary anger, then fear, then comprehension flitting across her expressive face. With perfect grace she lifted from her chair and fluidly went to her knees beside it on the hard tile floor.
She knew what was in the wrapping, but it still sent a shuddering thrill through her body, leaving her toes and fingers tingling. He held it low, before her eyes, watching her as he very slowly uncovered it. She licked her lips, anticipating.
"Will you wear my collar..."
"And be your slave," she finished.
"Yes, Master... Master, may I come?"
"No. Save it for later."
His first order to his new slave. While he talked she moved her hair out of the way and Glen closed and locked the collar about her long neck.
A long forgotten glow permeated her gut. She felt whole again, for the first time in -- much too long.
She looked up at him, fearful that he was a Master who would demand downcast eyes at all times. He smiled down at her. She read his mind, knowing what his next order would be. He didnít disappoint her.
It had been so long since she had obeyed a Master that she had nearly forgotten how to strip before him. Her work clothes totally lacked any sexiness. A white blouse and a well worn denim wraparound skirt came off and were folded and piled neatly on the chair, still warm from her ass. She was reaching for her bra strap even as the pile settled slightly. It came off revealing the promised perfection. Unexpected were the twin gold clevises attached to rods that ran behind her long nipples.
He made a mental note to ask her how she could stand having her bra press the metal loops into her tender breasts. He felt her answer ought to be interesting.
She made a show of removing her panties, even though they were as mundane as her outer clothes. In classic display, she stood facing him, hooking her fingers under the side elastic and rolling the thin cloth down, revealing a bare mound and below it th tip of her clit peeping out of its cover. The work shoes and stockings were last as she stood like a stork on one foot to take them off.
Glen glanced at her hands. It reminded her to assume her inspection position. She raised her arms and locked her fingers together behind her head. She endured his inch by inch inspection, the flush steady. It had been so long. He touched her nipples, making her tremble. He lifted one of the clevises and watched it slowly drop back into position.
He touched her thigh and her legs spread apart automatically. He could see more of her clit and spotted the gold ring stabbed through its very base. A string of small gold rings marched down both outer lips. A fine gold chain, anchored on her clit ring, zigzagged down through the rings to a heart-shaped miniature lock at the very bottom.
Beyond, there were four more rings through her flesh, at equal distance around her dark hole. He asked,
"What are these for?
Softly she explained, "My Master would punish me by locking a butt plug to them."
"And you never had them cut out?"
She hid her face in her upraised arm. Her response was muffled.
"I... thought I might find a Master who would use them again."
Glen couldnít help commenting, "Must be Hell to keep clean."
"Every time, it reminds me of him."
She showed him her back. There were faint scars. He traced one with a finger.
"His work too, I suppose?
"Can you teach me to use a big whip without doing that?"
"Iíd be honored to teach a Master."
"Iím afraid a very green Master. Half the time I donít know what the Hell Iím doing, or how to do it."
"Master, from this end you are doing fine. Youíve gotten me totally dominated in a matter of minutes, all my clothes off and your collar around my neck. What more can you ask?"
"That partís fine, but Iím still not sure how to handle Amy. Sheís almost too complex for me."
"Hopefully it will settle down once you find out what she lied about. If you can weather that storm it should be easier from then on."
Glen admired Georginaís nude body one more time, then gave her instructions, "Clothes back on. You attend to your normal duties. Boss the maids, who are due any minute. Keep the gardeners out of the house. Youíll cook supper and eat with us. Plan on staying here tonight. Report to me when you are finished for the day."
He eyed her pile of clothing. "Is there a pocket on that skirt?"
"Yes, Master." She was wrapping it as she spoke.
Glen reached in his pocket and pulled out a coiled chain leash.
"Here. Keep that with you at all times. It will be fixed to your collar and you will hand it to me when you report -- whenever you report."
His eyebrows went up when she kissed the leash fervently before carefully putting it in her pocket. It was a minor bit of byplay, but it drove home his need to know more about being a Master. He should have instructed her, not the other way around. He duly noted that she was teaching by example, careful not to tell him what to do. That would be reserved for more important things, and only with Glenís consent or approval.
As soon as he got to his office he called the friend who was making the cage he had ordered. A strange voice answered, but seemed to know all about the cage.
"Rad was called out of town on a special job. He wonít be back for two weeks. He said to tell you that it will take another week after that and heíll have the cage ready."
"Thanks." He hung up, already trying to gauge Amyís reaction to the bad news. He was also upset because he wanted the matter over and done with. Besides, with a second slave, the possibilities were wide open. He would have to cope with it and see if Georgina could help.
Duty called and he started down the list of calls he needed to make. Business was booming, putting added pressure on his time for his two female slaves.
The day went by. The maids cleaned the house, used to locked doors where they couldnít go. The gardeners were finished in a couple of hours leaving the outside looking perfect. Georgina did her work without supervision, coming to him only once, her leash clipped to her collar, the handle hanging from her hand. He took it and held it, symbolic ritual, while she asked for special instructions. He told her what to do and handed the leash back. She unclipped it, coiled and kissed it and put it back in her pocket.
"Be sure that your work clothes have a pocket for your leash."
"Yes, Master. I always have a pocket, to carry my keys."
He debated taking the keys and requiring her to report to him any time she needed one, but decided against it, at least for the time being.
He finished his calls and went downstairs to the cell. Amy heard the door and was kneeling for him as he walked in.
He examined the chain she was polishing and laid it back down. The pile of rusty chains was dry. He sent Amy to rectify the matter and then leashed her and took her upstairs, installing her on the bench in his office.
There were more calls coming in. Amy lay, silent, unmoving as Glen answered. Stretching slightly he could reach her nipples. She glared at him in mock anger, unmoving.
Cheryl called. Amy made a point of ignoring the call. She -- and Glen -- watched her reaction very carefully. Both believed she was over her jealousy. However it didnít deter Glen from his plan to severely test her obedience.
"Master, do you want me to cook supper?"
"No, thatís already being taken care of. By the way, the guy making the cage is out of town. It will be at least three weeks before itís ready."† He watched her face. She reacted, frowning, but she didnít seem to be as bothered as he expected.
"Your punishment will continue, until it is ready."
She frowned again, but it was obvious that she was accepting the change in plans much more readily. Apparently the day on the rock had some fringe benefits in the way of behavior modification. Besides, she seemed more and more fascinated with her chains and less willing to have him remove them. But if it involved bedroom acrobatics she was more than willing to have them removed.
Just as Glen finished his last call, Georgina knocked on the office door. She was dressed, so she didnít kneel, but she had the leash handle ready for him. Amy sat up, her chains rattling loudly.
"Master, supper will be ready in 10 minutes."
Amyís eyes got wider and wider. She saw the leash. She saw the collar. She heard his title from her lips. Before she had a chance to open her mouth, Glen turned, holding up the leash handle.
"Amy, I want you to meet my new slave, Georgina. She was, and is, the housekeeper. I collared her this morning. Since she is now your Mistress, I expect you to greet her properly."
Amy was not exactly on her best behavior. Stunned, she obeyed, dropping to her knees and elbows, finding Georginaís shoes with her lips and tongue. She knelt up, unsure what to do next. "I welcome you as my Mistress," Glen prompted. She repeated the welcome, her voice neutral.
"Try it again. This time with sincerity."
Amy didnít look up at either one. She bent forward, kissed the shoes again and this time her welcome was sincere. Glen handed Georginaís leash back to her. "Weíll be there in five minutes. You will be nude by the time we get there."
Amy was still kneeling. Her face was blank, her eyes staring again.
He was tempted to slap her face, but instead twisted one of her engorged nipples to get her attention. She looked at him, a lone tear sliding down her cheek. She looked away. "Youíre going to get rid of me, now that youíve got her."
His strong hand reached down and pulled her jaw around until she was looking into his eyes, that were now much closer.
"You little dummy, this gal is experienced both as a domme and as a submissive. She knows both ends of the rope. She is here for one purpose, to train you, and to train me, so that YOU and I can have a real relationship. Beginning right now you are being tested. You came off the rock vowing to obey. The next 24 hours will tell me if you meant it or not. Remember, I told you that your willingness and devotion to duty would play a major role in whatever punishment you deserve after we get this settled. Unfortunately itís going to take longer before, which should mean less afterward. Are you going to do this willingly or do you want to live in that cell for the next three weeks?"
Surprisingly she agreed immediately, already over her upset at the appearance of a new slave. The cell was better than the rock, but Glen could easily upgrade her.
The table was set and Georgina was kneeling, offering her leash. Glen took it and unclipped the other end from her collar. He laid the leash in the center of the table.
Only one place was set. Glen ordered, "Set two more places. We three will eat together whenever possible. Amy was kneeling. Glen invited, "Sit at the table." She rose and sat down. Georgina served the food and then sat in the third chair. Glen looked at both women. "A very nice view from here." Both blushed, their nipples hardening in unison.
"Talk freely, and letís eat."
Neither one said anything until Glen complimented Georgina on the food. Amy agreed and that seemed to break the ice. Georgina began to question Amy about her early life, something that Glen had wanted to do but never seemed to find the time. He listened as he ate, learning new facts about his slave.
Amy finally turned the tables, asking, "How did you get into the porn industry, Mistress?"
Georgina detailed a typical ran-away-from-home scenario and being forced to do anything to keep from starving. Amy seemed genuinely interested. "Did they force you to do sex scenes?"
"Not physical force. More mental. Do it, or you donít get to eat. Itís a hard life."
"Were you able to save any money?"
"I never could, and neither could most of the other girls. I didnít do drugs, like a lot of the girls and men did, but there never seemed to be anything left."
"Glen said you were a professional domme. How did you get into that?"
"It was easy. There are always men around wanting to be dominated. I started out with two clients and they spread the word until I had over twenty."
"Were you married?"
"Yes. One of the studio executives started dating me. He put a lot of verbal pressure on me to marry him, but he never touched me until after I agreed and we got married. On our honeymoon he turned dominant and by the time I went back to work I was roped and chained and wore cuffs to work."
"What happened to him? Did you divorce him?"
"No, he died on me. Heart attack. Left me on a cross in the basement for three days before they found me."
"God! How did you survive?"
"I was lucky. A few more hours and I would have been dead, too."
"Master said you were 61. You donít look it."
"Iíve been keeping fit, and thank you for the compliment."
Glen couldnít resist teasing: "Aw, sheís just sucking up to her new Mistress."
Amy looked pained. Georgina sat mum.
"Actually, Amy is right. You donít look a day over 40."
Before Georgina could say something, Amy interjected, "Now who is sucking up?"
Glen stared at her. "Have you seen our rock pile in the basement?"
"Ooops, sorry boss, um, Master."
"Glen looked at Georgina and spread his arms. "This is what I have to put up with, day after day, hour after hour. A big, big mouth!"
"Have you tried a gag?"
"Yes, but you canít gag her 24/7. Besides, she calls me very nasty names behind that gag."
"Have you tried beating some sense into her?"
"Not really. She begs to be whipped, but Iím going to need lessons in how to handle the big whips. Iíve gotten pretty good with the buggy whip already. She bruises from the cane, but her pain tolerance is way off the top of the chart."
"I might have an idea or two to solve some of the problem. Would you mind if I take over?"
"Not at all. Amy, why donít you beg your Mistress to take over your training?"
Amazing Amy, caught up in the exchange, had no choice but to immediately kneel at Georginaís feet, kiss her bare toes and beg,
"Please, Mistress, I beg your training and punishment. I want to be a better slave and honor my collar."
Mistress looked down at the kneeling slave. Without acknowledging Amyís plea, she ordered, "While you are down there, suck my toes."
Glen and Georgina talked while Amy laved each toe to shining splendor. Glen watched as Georginaís part of the conversation was deteriorating into incoherent words and the occasional gasp.
She gathered strength to ask, "Master, may I please have an orgasm?"
"Are you sure thatís what it is? Sheís only sucking your toes."
"Master, Iím going to blow to bits if I donít. Please!"
"Weeell, since you ARE a Mistress, just this once."
Georgina leaned down toward Amy and grunted, "Suck! Harder!"
That was all it took. Georgina must somehow have transferred the lips and tongue that were pleasuring her to some much more erotic place. Either that or her toes were really an erogenous zone of great magnitude. Whatever, it gave slave Amy a lesson in explosive, all consuming climaxes that she had yet to achieve. Sheíd had some good ones, but nothing that reached the megaton scale.
Georgina was not one to let a good deed go unpunished. She swooped down on Amy while her system was still blipping on overload. Her lips homed in on Amyís pussy, sweeping everything before it. Amy let out a yelp of surprise, then started moaning as the worldís most experienced tongue started her clit doing flip flops, with a rare flip flap flop from time to time.
"Master! Master! MASTER!! Sheís making me come. I canít stop it! Please! Let me come!"
She opened bleary eyes to see Glenís face inches from hers.
"But, youíre not a Mistress, youíre a slave. You come, and youíll spend the night watching me fuck your Mistress."
Georgina heard and sent her tongue into supercharger mode. Circuits shorted. Bridges burned. Amy came, matching the example just set minutes ago by her Mistress. It was worth it.
Needless to say, as the third and only man, Glen was turning blue, most especially his balls. When Amy came down off the moon, he announced, "This Flying Circus is now moving to the Masterís bedroom, where MASTER expects some relief."
Amy and Georgina actually grinned at each other. Anything but fast friends at this stage, but at least co-conspirators.
Georgina bowed and pointed the way to the bedroom. "Shall we?"
"After you, Mistress."
They heard the buggy whip whistle through the air. They hurried. Glen adjusted the painful twist in his pants.
Amy knelt by the bedroom door. Georgina headed directly for what was now her side of the bed. Reaching down she locked her ankles and had her right wrist locked by the time Glen joined her. She kissed him with all the verve that Amy exhibited after he had locked her left wrist.
Glen sat up and looked at Amy. This was going to be the toughest part of the test.
"Slave, bring your rug and kneel beside the bed. Your Mistress and I are going to demonstrate some techniques that you need to learn. Youíve been involved in at least some of them, but itís hard to learn anything when youíre fighting to control an orgasm. Watching, you wonít have any excuse not to learn."
"Remember you are being punished, but nothing says I canít educate you as part of your punishment. Remember too, this is a test. Fail and you are going to regret it for a long, long time. You are still subject to the no-orgasm rule and Iím sure that I donít need to remind you that the orgasm youíve already had is what put you beside the bed, instead of in it. Agreed?"
From that point Amy faced a problem. She got off on other people having sex. It had only happened to her twice, but back in the days before controlled orgasms she had come handily just from watching. She could imagine Glenís reaction if she suddenly piped up asking for permission for a forbidden act in this situation.
As usual, Glen had some surprises for her.
He had a surprise or two for Georgina too. His pecker, as she called it, was longer and thicker than the average and several girls in another lifetime had painfully discovered that size does matter.
She was a tad slow to lubricate, but Glenís fingers solved that problem quickly. She returned the favor by grabbing his staff and sliding her tight hand up and down its full length, making cooing sounds as she prepared to sacrifice comfort to girth. Glen held his hand to her mouth and she gratefully filled the cupped palm with saliva. He turned it over above the ballooning head, allowing her flying fingers to spread it on his tool.
Amy knelt, feeling her arousal rise, her mouth watering at the sight of Glenís cock. So near, and yet, so far.
Ready and primed, Glen swung over Georginaís spread open body. He dug his elbows in and hunched forward. Georgina was helpless in her chains, so he had to use one hand to guide the head into place. Amyís hand moved. She wanted to help too, to feel him, but it was not her place.
"Yes, Master," she whispered, feeling Amyís eyes burning into their bodies.
His initial thrust drove the air from her lungs. She breathed in great gusts of air as he drew back for his next advance. Amy knew from experience what that massive cock felt like, ramming into her confined space like a freight train hitting a house. She ached, her mouth and her pussy were watering, wanting what her Mistress was enjoying.
There was not the slightest doubt that Georgina was in Seventh Heaven. Every sound from her lips registered lust, enjoyment and pure ecstacy. Amy heard Glenís familiar grunts as he rooted in another body, not hers. The sounds the two were making couldnít help excite her. She wanted to tap her Master on the shoulder and beg permission, but common sense took over and she continued to watch.
Being this close to the action she was learning new things. She had never seen Glenís cock actually moving in and out of her cunt. She had felt it, but seeing gave it a whole new perspective. She understood why Glen was rubbing at the upper limits, stimulating her clit and rubbing her G-spot at the same time.
Georgina opened her mouth wide, gasping for air. It had been more than 20 years since she had someone this big inside her. Dildos didnít count in her book. She could feel her internal organs adjusting to this monster. Yes, for her, monster was the right word.
Length counts too. Glen was long enough to reach her cervix at full thrust and the poor organ took quite a battering because of its location. To get most of it out of her tight channel he had to rear back, ass in the air before he could drive forward again.† She had once taken on a porn star with a larger organ, but the man didnít have the foggiest idea of how to please his partner. He was just a big ego attached to an oversize cock.
But, that was long ago. This was now and she was ready to climax. The problem was that she couldnít keep breath in her lungs long enough to beg permission. She finally squeezed out an urgent "Glennnn!"
He paused, long enough for her to ask. He repeated his earlier permission and she put on a lengthy display of multiple orgasms.
Amy was fit to be tied. Appropriate for the setting. Every nerve in her body was jangling, wanting her to climax so they all could feel it. Glen ignored her want and set her a task.
"Get up here and clean your Mistress."
That got her attention and put any idea of an orgasm on hold. She reacted quickly, avoiding a confrontation. When she got her tongue into home base the fireworks started.
Georgina started moaning:
"Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!"
Amy was doing everything but bite her, determined that neither were going to fault her work. Besides, she enjoyed the feel of her labia and clit on her tongue. She honestly was surprised at herself. She had just watched her lover fuck another woman and she couldnít raise one pang of jealousy! She decided being a slave did have some advantages after all. Life could go on around her and she didnít have to worry.
She decided to bite, after all. Georgina began to weave and twist her body, keening through her nose dropping off a cliff to ride her next orgasm to the top. She forgot all about Glen, as razor-toothed ferrets chewed at her flesh.
Amy speared the last of his semen with her tongue and raised her head. Glen was watching her with what looked suspiciously like admiration in his eyes.
He pointed at his still stiff cock.
"This needs cleaning too, but donít you dare bite."
She engulfed half of it. He warned,
"Clean, not a blow job."
She started lapping. Behind her Georgina was moaning, telling the world she was hot, hot, hot.† Glen didnít give her a chance to react. He leaned over and grasped a nipple in his teeth and bit down. Georgina screamed and went off into multiple orgasm land again.
Glen sent Amy back to the floor and fitted himself between Georginaís violently trembling legs. He had watched Amyís short lesson in biting and decided on getting a bachelorís degree in the subject.
His thesis was more is better. He went for her clit. First his tongue advanced. Clit responded by throwing back the covers and swelling into a red mound. Glenís tongue caressed, Georgina blew up. Timing it, he bit. She climaxed. He bit. She climaxed. He kept it up until she groaned,
"Please, Oh God, no more."
He chuckled with pride. "Iím not God, just Master."
"Master-smaster. You keep that up and youíll kill me."
"And to think, not one of those orgasms had permission."
"I think, as punishment, that you should give our slave a free orgasm of her choice."
"Fine. Amy, get up here before I collapse and blow away. How do you want it?
Amy, never one to look a gift come in the mouth, was right there. "Iíll straddle your head. This wonít take long."
Georgina got revenge for the biting down below. As soon as her upside down nose slid into Amyís jucy slit, she bit down on her clit. Amy went straight up in the air, climaxing as fast as you could count, yelling at the top of her lungs.
That put an end to the festivities for the moment. Glen released Georgina. He had one more surprise for Amy. He had her stand out of the way and rolled a large box out from under the bed. There was no top.
Amy looked down into the box and saw that it was equipped with cross pieces that took a moment to recognize as stocks.
Glen pulled the top s of each stock out. A girl could lie in th box, with wood across her neck, waist, arms and legs. He took Amy to the bathroom and then brought her back as Georgina staggered toward the toilet. He lifted Amy and laid her on her back. The tops were placed across her body and secured with wing nuts. Georgina came back in time to admire the box and its contents and then Glen slid it back under the bed.
"Not a peep," he warned.
Amy woke each time they resumed. She listened to the familiar sounds, visualizing what each were doing. She got hot listening, only to return to the frustration of her helpless hands.
She did not get jealous.
Morning came early in Glenís bedroom. Amy woke to the violent thudding of bodies on the mattress over her head. Held immobile in the wooden stocks, Amyís nose was less than a foot from the scene of the action, but for all she could see she might as well have been down in the basement listening.
There was plenty to listen to. Besides the repeated impacts of their bodies, both were groaning and gasping. She could hear her Mistress urging Glen on, "Faster! Harder!" His grunts grew louder as he slammed into her.
Glen had wakened to the feeling of a female hand gripping his hard cock and caressing it. He was lying close enough for her to reach him with the nearest manacled hand. He thought for a second that he was going to spurt but the sensation faded a bit.
He leaned over and kissed her, She squirmed in her chains and turned her head, nipping his ear and then whispering hotly, offering her body for something new.
Glen had heard of a Ďslave fuck,í but he had never seen one, or participated in one. Georgina was introducing him to his first, teaching him how a slave should respond when ordered to perform. In different parts of the country and across the world there were variations but the basic coupling required the slave to exhibit all her responsiveness. As taught in the better dungeons, the slave was expected to bounce her pretty ass off the bed at least the length of her Masterís cock, meeting hard in mid-air on every stroke. A slave that couldnít perform was either due for an extensive training course, or traded off to a less demanding Master.
Amy was getting the full benefit of Glenís training, except for watching it. Watching was barely necessary as the noise level pretty much told the whole story.
Georginaís ecstatic scream and Glenís simultaneous deep-seated groan signaled climax but the thudding went on for nearly a minute before it slowed and stopped. Glen sat up, got up and pulled the big drawer out from under the bed. Amy stared up at him, smiling weakly. Glen twirled the wing-nuts, releasing the stocks.
"Your Mistress has a sloppy cunt. Get up here and clean her up."
Amy worked her stiff muscles. Climbing on the bed she eyed the scene of battle. Glenís juices were seeping, so she unleashed her tongue and quickly started Georgina toward one more orgasm.
Glen in the meantime used his rank as Master to get first dibs on the toilet. Finished he listened to the sounds coming from the bedroom and decided on a very quick shower.
When he came out, drying himself with a big towel the noise level had gone up markedly. Glen discovered that Amy had a death grip on Georginaís clit and was hanging on as Georgina bounced and twisted, trying to escape the tongue that was driving her crazy.
"Hey! Save that for later. You both will be wanting a nap by lunchtime if you keep that up."
Amy relinquished her hold reluctantly and gave Glen one of her best Cheshire cat grins.
Glen unlocked Georginaís chains. She groaned as she sat on the† edge of the bed. "Man, Iím getting too old for this shit."
Both Amy and Glen burst out laughing.
Glen praised, "For an Ďoldí gal, you really held your own."
Georgina held out her hands. Glen put her cuffs back on. She looked at him darkly. "Master, does this mean what I think it means?"
"It means, that just like Amy, you get Ďhelpedí with whatever you do in the bathroom. You knew she had valet service, Iím sure."
"Yessss, but I thought..."
"Keep that thought. Itís your turn, unless you want to go to the tail end of the line and argue."
"No, Master. Iíll gladly accept your help."
A well buffed and red-faced Georgina emerged shortly. She admitted privately to Glen that despite her lengthy experience, she had never before been served in that way by a man. Like Amy she enjoyed the erotic aspects and got equally as aroused.
Amy accepted her cuffs and followed Glen to the bathroom. While she sat, he muttered about spending more time in the bathroom than in the bedroom and growled about having two Ďpissersí to keep clean. Amy was tempted to remind him that all he had to do was unchain them and both could tend to their own cleanliness. She kept the observation to herself, after scaring herself with imagined punishments if she spoke up.
While Amy was showering, Georgina went down to the kitchen and prepared breakfast. The smell of fresh coffee drew Master and Slave down the stairs in a hurry.
As they ate, Georgina told Glen, "This is my regular day here, so I can spend time on Amyís training, but I have a dental appointment tomorrow and some other things that need to be done."
"Thatís fine. We need to work on some sort of schedule. "Iím guessing you donít want to be a 24/7 slave?"
Georgina fanned herself in mock heat. "After last night thereís nothing Iíd like better. You two really keep the hormones stirring. However, itís going to take some time before I can do that. Iíve got a house, a car and some other commitments that need to be taken care of."
"You can live at home and still be my slave."
"I know, but it doesnít quite have that same feeling. I want to be in a position where my every minute belongs to you. You can tell me what to do and how to do it at any time, day or night. If you get a sudden urge to take me to the torture chamber at 2 a.m. I want to be there, chained, waiting and ready."
Amy kept on eating, but her ears didnít miss a single word of the conversation. She was beginning to feel the first faint stirring of kinship with this woman who was old enough to be her grandmother, but with a thirst for sex that belied her age. She recognized the problems this sudden conversion to a slave were causing and would cause. She kept her peace, listened, and learned a little bit more about what slavery -- sexual slavery -- was all about.
"Can you give me one extra day a week?
"Three days a week?† Yes, that would work."
"Do you want alternate days, or three in a row?"
"Master, in case you forgot, Iím the slave here. You tell me what you want and how high to jump and Iíll do it."
"OK, I want you here Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, handy if we have any extended sessions."
"I donít know if I can stay awake for three days in a row, but Iíll try."
"You got some sleep last night, didnít you?"
"Interrupted every hour on the hour for fucking and busy fingers on my special parts most of the rest of the time."
"That was just a welcome screw. When we get down to business you may go for days without getting any."
"Oh, I may pine away and die if that happens."
"You gotta remember, Iím just one man, so thereís only one of everything for you two cock-hungry slaves to share."
"Um, weíll work something out. I have to do the dishes and a couple of other small jobs, so Iíll pick Amy up in an hour, if thatís agreeable, Master?"
"Fine by me. Slave, back to the bedroom! You forgot your chains."
"Ulp, sorry, Master. I thought I was a little light-headed."
"You could hang by your big toes for a crack like that."
"Anything you say, Master."
The buggy whip slapped the bannister, an inch from her hand. Amy jerked as if it had actually struck her and raced up the stairs. Glen was on her heels and managed several direct hits.
Out of breath, Glen hugged Amy. "Slave, you did very well last night.† Frankly, much better than I expected. Open talk, what do you think of your new Mistress?"
"One thing for sure, Iím not jealous of her. I really thought I would go ballistic, but not even a twinge. I... like her. Thatís hard to say in my position, and ask me again after sheís worn out a whip on my ass and I may say different, but right now she† and I seem to fit together. Sheís had some rough times that I can relate to. I can barely imagine what she must have gone through, starving in that basement, knowing she was dying by inches, knowing that only a miracle could save her. It was completely different with my husband, but I still think she and I went through much the same things."
She wiggled in his arms. "Glen, please fuck me. Tell me that you love me."
"On the floor?"
"Please, Master, on the bed. Iíve been a good girl."
"Up to a minute ago when you used my forbidden name."
"Oh, damn! Just when things were going good."
"Iíll forget it if you let me lick your clit."
"Foolish boy! You can lick my clit any old time. Even bite it."
With the aforementioned piece of Amy real estate between his teeth he inquired, "How hard?"
Amy closed her eyes and swung her head back and forth.
"Harder!" The word came through gritted teeth. Glen nibbled, then chewed gently. Gently was more than enough. Amy suddenly jerked her chains, bowing her back until she was resting on the back of her head.
"Maaaaster! Iímgoingtocomeeeeee. Please!"
"Wait for me -- and thatís an order."
He was inside her, pressing her back onto the mattress.
Seconds later he and she were coming together.
She giggled as he pulled out and stuffed her with a wad of tissues, damming the flood. He released her, put her cuffs on and hurried her along to the bathroom where he took over the job of draining her. She was still high, and sore. He touched her clit and she winced. He steadied her and pulled it from its nest to examine it. It was swollen and red, but his careful teeth hadnít broken the skin. He found lotion and soothed it back into place.
Georgina had just returned when they walked down the stairs to the kitchen. She was stripping the last of her work clothes as they came in. She immediately knelt before Glen.
"Master, if it pleases you, I will teach you how to use the whips."
Amy knew it was coming, but it was still a shock. She had volunteered once to be a test dummy and now her Mistress was going to accept the offer without giving Amy a chance to withdraw it. Her cheeks tightened in anticipation.
The party adjourned to the basement. Amy noted at once that there were two new shapes under wraps in the room. This must have had something to do with Georginaís mention of things to do. She assumed it was bondage furniture that Glen had ordered.
Amyís handcuffs were exchanged for leather suspension cuffs. Expertly, Georgina linked hanging chains to her wrists and with Glen at the controls, Amy was pulled upright until she was standing on her toes. She looked upward along the chains, as if looking for escape, but she knew she was going nowhere until she was allowed to.
Leaving her hanging, the two went into the storage room and selected several whips. Georgina examined them with a critical eye. She grabbed one, showed it to Glen and tossed it in the wastebasket.
"Thatís a piece of crap," she explained, "cheap leather."
Walking back into the dungeon, Georgina waved Glen to the side. The ceiling was fairly high so she had ample room to swing. The long whip snaked out and the cracker popped inches from Amyís ear. She jumped, pulling herself up on the chains, trying to reach the ceiling to hide.
She laid the big whip aside. "Thatís really too big to use in here. You could catch something just long enough to divert the whip right where you donít want it to go. Master, you need to treat every whip with respect. In the wrong hands, or used the wrong way they can be lethal. I saw a woman at a bondage party get whipped. The guy was drunk and the whip wrapped around her neck and crushed her larynx. She was dead before they could get help."
She picked up a shorter version.
"This is a good one to start with in here, Itís just as dangerous as big brother so learn to use it before you do any live practice."
She walked over and unveiled a standing dummy. A girl dummy, with all the essential parts in the right places. Georgina moved it over to a spot in front of Amy and hung it from the floor joists with just the toes touching the floor. The body and dummy could have been twins.
"Master, you will practice on this dummy. Amy, thank your lucky stars you arenít this dummy. "Donít ever get in a situation where a rookie is going to whip you."
"Mistress, what if I was already strung up like this?"
"Do anything you can. Puke your guts up. Faint. If that doesnít work, start praying."
Georgina stuck a sheet of paper over the target. She pointed to the area just above the hips. "Avoid this at all times. You donít want kidney damage."
She stepped back into position. Her arm went back. "Besides the force of your arm, you need to snap your wrist as the whip is about to hint." She demonstrated, the whip dancing behind her. Leaning forward she rolled the whip toward the target, lifting up at it went. The lash splatted across the white paper, leaving a line of darker oil almost exactly bisecting the whiteness.
""The first one is the hardest, because you have to estimate range and position. If you look at the paper, the lash didnít penetrate. That means it wouldnít cut skin. A proper whip should always have rounded edges, never cut edges. A right angle corner is going to cut every time."
"Donít be fooled by the porn movies. The soft lashes they use barely touch the skin in most cases. The noise is from someone hitting a leather pillow at the same time. You can often catch them with the noise coming before the lash strikes." Donít depend entirely on sound to estimate your force."
"Once that first lash is down, to your satisfaction, you have two choices. You can put another lash on the same spot if you are planning to cause excessive pain. Or, you can demonstrate your skill by putting parallel marks side by side up or down the target area."
"Once youíve filled the target area, donít go back and cross at a different angle. Almost every place were two lashes cross is going to bleed, something you donít want and the person getting whipped definitely doesnít want."
She swung sideways and the mark crossed at a 90 degree angle. She motioned Glen to check. At the intersection there was a half inch square piece of paper torn on three sides, hanging by the fourth.
"You might not do that with a lighter whip, but skin condition has a lot to do with it as well. Some, such as red heads, will bruise if you look cross-eyed at them and even the mildest whip will do damage to their fair skins."
As she talked she removed the paper and put up a new one.
"Watch my wrist."
She snapped the whip six times as fast as she could swing. As if by magic six neat parallel lines marched down the paper.
A small sound from Amy brought their eyes back to her. She was trying to climb her chains, her eyes wild. Glen walked to her and put his arms around her. She shivered from non-existent cold and buried her head in his shoulder.
"Whatís the matter?" Georgina watched them, unsure what was happening.
Amy looked up at him. "Master Iím scared. She scares me. Iím afraid of her whip."
Glen was momentarily tongue-tied. Georgina had an answer for her.
"Amy, Iím showing you the worst that can happen, so that neither you nor your Master make the mistakes Iím describing. Youíve been whipped and you enjoyed it. Thatís about the level that it should stay at. You have a very high pain tolerance, much more than most girls, so you can actually enjoy pain more than other people can."
"There is nice pain -- sexual pain that gets you hot and aroused. Properly used, a whip or a flogger or a quirt all can send you into ecstasy, just as they can send you to a hospital if they are misused."
Amy seemed to take the advice to heart. She sniffled and Glen helped her blow her nose. She hung her head.
"Iím sorry, Mistress, Master. I wasnít scared of whips, but with my punishment hanging over me I panicked. Please go on. Iím learning."
Glen explained to Georgina, "She wanted to be whipped early on and I had a choice between a whip and a crop. I took the crop and was able to keep it in bounds. I wanted to wait until Iíd practiced with the whip before using it on her."
"Good thinking, Master. Very good thinking."
"So I see," nodding to the paper targets.
The next few minutes were spent doing slow motion strikes, Georgina demonstrating the wrist movement and Glen practicing until he had it and could consistently put the lash right where he wanted it. Some practice on the paper targets confirmed his attained skill.
"All right, letís move to a live target. Slave, are you ready for this?
"Yes, Mistress." The voice was very meek.
"Iím going to lay a line across your ass cheeks. Your master is going to put one right above it. Ready?"
"Thwack!"† The thin leather found its target. Amy yelped, so it couldnít have hurt too much.
"One. Thank you, Mistress. Master, will you whip me, please?"
After his success on paper, Glen should have been confident, but he was shaking slightly, awed by the severe warnings about damage. Grim faced he took position and swung.
"Thwack!" Amy screeched, feeling her Masterís strength behind the whip.
"Two. Thank you, Master for punishing me."
Georgina pointed to Amyís rear end. A second, slightly heavier red line crossed exactly parallel to the first one. Georgina silently clapped.
"Ah, itís just beginnerís luck."
He put his arm around Amy and with a finger he traced both lines. Amy began to groan as his finger moved, the pitch going higher and higher.
"Still afraid of the whip?"
She turned red hot eyes toward his. "Master will you throw me on your bed, chain me down so I canít move and fuck the living shit right out of me!"
Teasing, he commented, "But, you didnít answer my question."
"Yesss, you bastard, I LOVE your whip. Youíve had me strung up like a Christmas goose all this time, wasting whip on a paper when you had a live, hot target right here in front of you. Keep whipping me like that and Iíll kiss your ass at high noon in Yankee Stadium. Now, please, Master, fuck me!"
Georgina chortled. "I can see Iím going to be giving a lot more lessons."
Amy, tight in Glenís arms, looked over his shoulder, "You arenít half bad either, Mistress."