Copyrighted material, not for those under 18 years of age.
Selene’s task, now that the STF was ready to operate, was to begin classes. The first source would be the 25 slaves traded from the National Prison. They were an unknown quantity, despite the lengthy dossiers that the NP had furnished. Both Glen and Ralph were worried that there were one or more spies among them. Dwight was even ready to take all of them to the DB and interrogate them. At Glen’s urging they decided to let Selene handle it, but all three men intended to watch them very closely.
Selene decided to handle them in batches of five. The coffles were marched to the end of the walkway where they were released from the neck chain and equipped with collars, leashes, cuffs and hobbles. Amy got the job of leading the slaves through the walkway and tunnel, before handing them off to Sarah, who took care of assigning and attaching them to their desks. She was in no particular danger as the individual slaves were essentially helpless in their chains, with their hands behind their backs. Although Selene had no idea yet of their history or capabilities, she assigned each group to a different classroom. Thus one group wound up in the punishment class while another went to the novice class.
Selene addressed the slaves in each room as soon as all of them were in place. Her message was short, and to the point.
"This is the Slave Training Facility. You will refer to it as the STF. I have no doubt you soon will have other names, but that is just one of the forbidden things you will cope with. You have a list on your desk or pinned to you. These are the rules you will live by until you graduate, or are remanded to the Discipline Barracks. You will have them memorized by this time tomorrow."
"This is a ‘one mistake’ facility. Screw up and you will be sent to a stricter class and wear a different color collar. Screw up with a black collar and you will be a guest of the DB. A long term guest. All of you came from the National Prison System. There is no comparison between the NP and the DB - unless ‘ten times worse’ doesn’t mean anything to you.
"You are here to learn. You have no rights, no privileges, nothing, until you graduate. That will be a date set on an individual basis. You may spend a month here if you’re a quick learner. You may spend a year here, or longer if you don’t learn.
"You are slaves. With one exception you are at the bottom of the heap. My assistants and I are all slaves, but they wear Brown Belts as a badge of authority and I wear a Red Belt, the highest rank a slave can obtain here at the castle."
Selene paused and the PA system came on.
"I’m the General Manager of Castle Bond. I am proud to take part in the opening of this new facility. I congratulate Selene, Sarah and their assistants in getting this place ready on time. As slaves, your part will be to learn what they have to teach you as quickly as possible. The sooner you learn, the sooner you will be out of here to your next assignment. Thank you."
The first day went rapidly. Each classroom teacher checked the papers and questioned each slave. Each class had one or two that belonged in a different room, so Amy had her hands full, running slaves from one room to another. When everyone had been properly placed, Selene and Sarah went from room to room, issuing and locking the correct-colored collar for each slave. The punishment class wound up with four black collars and one red.
Selene made the point, as she fitted the red collar. "There’s a vast difference between a Red Belt and a red collar. Don’t confuse the two. This slave is wearing a red collar because she has run away twice from her Master. Running away here is an automatic ticket to the DB."
The teacher slaves used the rest of the day to go over the lengthy list of rules that the slave students needed to know. They made the point again and again, "This is not a school. It is a forced punitive and educational program that you have been ordered to take. You may have goofed off in school, but goofing off here will have very painful consequences. Keep goofing off and each incident will bring you increasingly stiff penalties. Those of you who remember your high school math will understand 1 -2- 4 - 8 - 16.
"You may ask questions only when your teacher has designated a question period. All teachers and staff are to be addressed as Mistress.
"All right, question period. Five minutes."
"Mistress, the slave who escorted us. She doesn’t have a Brown Belt. Does she outrank us, even without the belt?"
"You outrank her. She is the one member of the staff who does not have a Brown Belt. As slaves, you do not need to know why she doesn’t have a belt. Asking her about her status is forbidden. She has the authority to tell you what to do, so don’t try to cross her."
There were plenty of rooms to house the teachers in the Executive Wing, but the evening entertainment had to be moved to a larger room. Georgina had everything ready when they trooped home from work. The students were housed in the classrooms right at the STF. Two male guards handled the security at night. There was no need for more, as no movement was allowed at night outside the class rooms.
Late that evening after watching Amy satisfy the Mistresses, including the dozen new Brown Belt teachers, Glen began to play with Jane. He unfastened her shackles and then opened a box on his nightstand. It was filled with heavy, thick elastic bands. Jane watched intently as he slid them up both arms and both legs, until there was a band every few inches. There were two around the base of each breast, slowing circulation so that they soon turned a deep purple color. He installed a ring gag and tied one of the bands across her open mouth to each side strap.
Jane was getting a bad case of nerves, which turned into classic Slave Fear. This was the first time Glen had ever done anything other than relatively gentle foreplay before fucking her. She racked her brain, trying to remember if any of the other Mistresses had mentioned this sort of game. She had been snapped enough in high school to know that she was in for a painful evening.
Glen was already secretly enjoying the game. He read the fear in her eyes, exactly the effect he was going for. He laid his wristwatch between them where both could see it. Then he explained the rules.
"You have 32 bands on your body but there are eight hidden bands. Your job will be to select a band that I will snap. If you pick a hidden band, you get snapped twice, my choice. If you pick all the hidden bands before you get the rest, I get ten snaps on any bands I choose. If you pick all the regular ones, you get to refuse the remaining hidden bands. You will enunciate clearly. If I don’t understand you, I will pick two bands. Are you ready?"
"Yes, Master."
Jane was not at all sure she understood the game and the different confusing choices made it worse. She gritted her teeth and picked a number. "17." (Try making a 7, with your mouth wide open.)
Glen consulted his chart and pulled the band across the arch of her foot. He released it, causing Jane to curl the foot as tight as she could get it. She suddenly realized that she would have to memorize each location and its matching number, while putting up with the intolerable sting of the heavy bands.
"23."
One of the two bands on her right breast was pulled taut and released. She winced, her brain digesting the fact that each breast involved three numbers, one of which would result in both bands being pulled at the same time. She was ready to stop playing right then, but Glen looked pointedly at his watch.
"32."
"Stick your tongue out." The band pulled against the ring gag. She yelped when the rubber struck her tongue, which disappeared into her mouth for soothing that was not to be. She dug it into her gums, trying to ease the sting.
"5."
"Hive?"
"Five."
"I get two." Left thigh and the one just below it. Jane winced, and winced again. Glen consulted.
"Hidden. I get two more."
Two direct hits on her nipples. For some reason the bed refused to open and swallow her. She made a noise to show Glen that it hurt. He appeared to ignore her.
An hour went by, very slowly and painfully for Jane. Glen thought it was great fun, especially when she had to admit that while she had heard of a slave fuck, she had no clue as to how it worked. Glen tried to be helpful by offering lessons, but he was quick to point out that the lessons would cost her. She asked and held her breath, "What will it cost me, Master?"
"Oh, just three snaps - on your clit - for the first lesson."
For all of two seconds she considered making a run for it. She had already suffered a devastating snap that had cost her extras for noise. Three more was like asking her to pick a branding iron out of the fire by the red hot tip. But, she had her cushy job to think of. All she would need would be a dab of soothing salve and most of the hurt would go away. Reluctantly, she nodded.
Quickly, he explained the rules - how high, how hard - and fastened her down with the corner chains to give her some leverage. He pointed out, as part of the lesson, that an experienced slave could bounce even if her chains were fully taut, not with the slack he provided her. However it would take a practiced eye to see any difference between Glen’s taut and slack.
As she bounced under him, she quickly realized too that the flesh over her pelvic bone was going to be bruised by the hard contact. Glen had set his own payment schedule. He snapped her clit before the start, renewing the stark pain from the previous snap, and then pressed forward into her so there was constant friction against her sore clit. She was panting her pain when he stopped in the middle to correct her form and get more arch in her back, taking the opportunity to snap her again. Jane groaned in a deep base tone.
As the end neared, they both climaxed together. Glen figured she would hold off until he had come, since he had not given her a specific order. Jane was dimly aware that she might be graded on her performance, but she felt secure enough to ignore such a possibility. After all, her rival was busy with girl-on-girl action, under Sarah’s heavy thumb, so she needn’t worry.
She certainly would have worried if she could have read Glen’s mind. He was grading her, and had been for some time. The figures were definitely not in Jane’s favor. Glen was becoming increasingly aware that Jane talked a good game, but is was glaringly obvious that she not only didn’t enjoy pain games, she didn’t show the slightest signs of arousal. If Selene, or Opal, or Sara Mae had been playing, he would have had to deny them orgasms long before the game was over. Amy, without his order denying her arousal, would probably have been the first to beg, and very probably would have suggested the game in the first place, beating him to it.
Amy had her own problems. Sarah decided, with Selene’s approval to have her teach a class with hands on, actually tongue on, experience. By this time she had earned her way out of the tight cage, her string of "excellents" was a frequent topic of conversation.
Amy commandeered one of the slaves that had been giving her problems. She had her lie down on a table and over the slave’s protest, chained her in position, with her legs pulled wide open.
The slave yelled, "You can’t do this to me. I’m a grade higher than you. Let me off this fucking table, NOW!"
The teacher assigned to the room walked in, whip in hand, just in time to hear the last of the outburst. The whip sang, the tip wrapping a neat red line around her upper thigh, inches from her open pussy. It sang again, and the matching line etched itself in soft thigh flesh a fraction of an inch closer.
"Would you like to try for a split pussy?"
"No, Mistress," she said, hastily. "She tried to give me orders."
"And what orders apply to her?"
"Mistress, she... She has the authority to tell us what to do."
"But you forgot that when things got a little rough?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Very well. Apologize to Amy. You and all the rest will show her respect and call her Mistress."
The slave dragged an apology out by the roots, affixing her newly won title. Amy graciously accepted it and began the lesson. The teacher watched for a moment or two and then left.
At the end of the class, Selene, Sarah and the teacher walked into the classroom as Amy finished. Selene cracked her whip to get everyone’s attention.
"Class, we had an incident here at the beginning of the class. One of you, perhaps expressing the feelings of the rest of the class, balked when a slave of lower rank tried to give orders to one of higher rank. There are two solutions to this problem. One would be to discipline all of you until you beg to take orders from any lower life form. I can assure you we have the equipment to do just that.
"The other solution is much simpler and doesn’t waste the time we’d spend removing bits and chunks of your hides. Amy, please come forward."
Stunned, Amy stood stock still for a moment, then hurried to kneel in front of Selene. She turned to Sarah and nodded. Sarah opened the box she was carrying.
"Stand."
Sarah handed Selene a Brown Belt. Selene stooped and fixed it around Amy’s waist. Amy stood, looking down at the belt, unbelieving.
"Slave Amy, by virtue of my office, I welcome you as a Brown Belt, of equal rank with the other teachers. I have had nothing but good reports of your work, your attitude and your attention to detail. For the moment you will continue to teach this class. I’m sure the class members have already had second thoughts about rebelling. Or is there one or more who would still like to question her orders?"
She swept the little group with her eyes. Not one showed the slightest expression, already fearing for their future.
"I’ll repeat for your benefit, since this is the first serious incident in our training classes, this is a ‘one mistake’ facility. Amy, as a brown belt, has the authority to change the color of your collar, or ship you to the Discipline Barracks."
The classroom incident seemed to trigger a whole series of events. Amy didn’t find out until much later that Selene had called Glen and went to bat for her, describing the glowing reports she had been getting, and the potential problems if she remained without a belt. Glen wanted to agree by the end of Selene’s first sentence, but he listened to all she had to say before approving the belt.
The other Mistresses, with the lone exception of Jane, greeted Amy with open arms. Glen watched the hugging and kissing that went on when she got back to the Executive Wing. He switched to watching Jane and as he watched her, she was deliberately ignoring Amy and her well wishers. It was enough to make Glen realize that he had made a mistake in selecting her for the PA job. Jane didn’t fit in the group. She was not a team player, and she very likely was faking an interest in bondage.
Glen called Georgina to his room. They sat and talked for almost an hour. Then he called Jane. She was glad to escape from the impromptu celebration but she was startled to find Georgina already there. She looked at her suspiciously, but Georgina was calm and composed.
Glen suggested she sit, and then began, "Jane, I’ve come to the conclusion that you aren’t ready for the job as my PA. The mistake was mine, but I think you had everyone fooled."
Jane opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it. Perhaps he had some better job in mind for her. His next words really shocked her.
"You aren’t ready, aren’t experienced enough to wear a Red Belt. Quite frankly, I seriously doubt if your qualifications are enough for a Brown Belt. As a result, I’m demoting you to a beltless slave. You will be assigned to the slave pool."
Jane gasped, exhaling the breath she had been holding. She started to speak, but Glen cut her short. "I don’t want to hear anything from you. I’m embarrassed enough at having to keep replacing staff. Georgina will escort you to the pool."
Georgina stood up, the chains in her hands rattling. Jane gasped again. To leave in chains! She thought once more of escape, but Glen could easily catch and overpower her, even if there was a place to go.
"You will have one week to decide if you wish to remain in the castle. If not, your money will be returned to you and you will be shipped home. However, you will not leave until we are satisfied that you will not be telling the world about this place. If you stay, you will be in the second group of trainees in the STF."
Jane sobbed, once, as the shackles closed on her ankles and the Red Belt fell to the floor.
Amy was rightfully proud of her Brown Belt. For the first time in a long time the other Mistresses stopped treating her like a piece of shit and welcomed her to their group. Things had gone a bit overboard at the celebration party. The most thrilling to Amy was that for once she didn’t have to service all of the Mistresses. What actually happened was that she was blindfolded and three of the Mistresses went down on her for a change. Amy was tied on the bed as several joking threats were made to have the entire group lick her pussy, but they were never carried out. Very probably if there had been liquor at the party they might have gone through with it.
It was a day later when Amy first realized that she hadn’t seen Jane. At about the same time the other Mistresses noticed her absence, but at first attributed it to some project that she was working on. As slaves they were well aware that Masters didn’t share unnecessary information with their slaves. Georgina knew, a necessary point, but she was under orders not to discuss it with anyone until someone asked.
Georgina had returned from the slave pool with an angry look on her face. Glen noticed it at once.
"What’s the problem?"
"That sleazy bitch! She tried twice to bribe me to let her escape. Said she had an uncle who would make me a rich woman. I had to gag her and then kick her ass seven ways from Sunday to get her into the building. She was fighting her chains and even with the gag I could understand better than half of the crap she was calling me. A couple of the guards came out and helped me and we strung her up in a punishment cell and gave her a dozen welts where they will hurt for days. If she goes to the STF, she’ll need a black collar and double chains."
"Good work. I expect she won’t get much past the first day before she gets a one-way ticket to the DB. It’s certainly nice to have a place where you can ‘bury’ your mistakes."
"Master, who is going to get her Red Belt?"
"I haven’t decided. I jumped the gun on her, and a couple of others, so I’m going to think about it. In the meantime..."
He swung his arm to present the bed, set for two. Georgina looked at him in disbelief.
"Yes, First Mistress. The place of honor is yours. I decided that before I put a hold on new belt wearers."
Automatically, she went to her knees, trying frantically to digest this sudden move by her Master. She stuttered and stammered, trying to express her thanks. He reached down and pressed his finger to her lips. Strictly reflex, her tongue shot out and wrapped the finger, laving it from the tip down. Glen responded with a sudden indrawn breath. He lifted her face and looked into her eyes, reading the devotion spilling out.
"First Mistress, do you think you can handle the Executive Wing and the job of my Personal Assistant?"
Georgina looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. How many nights had she laid awake, picturing his face looming above her, felt his phantom cock slide into her, deep, wide, hard. She had frigged herself time and again with that image on the inside of her closed eyelids. The few times he had used her left her with even stronger, even more powerful images that once conjured up, left her sapped, weak as a tuft of cotton. She ignored her needs, intent on serving her Master to his best interests.
"Master, I am too old for your bed. You need a young, facile girl to properly arouse and satisfy you."
"Hush! I will not hear such talk. You have the experience, the knowledge, the loyalty that these kids haven’t begun to learn. I asked if you could handle both jobs. I don’t need a pointless lecture."
Unabashed, Georgina stared up at him. "If it pleases Master, I will do both jobs. The answer is yes."
"Good. Otherwise I would have had to whip you until you accepted. One thing. Not a word to anyone, until they ask where Jane is. Then you can tell them all you want to. Meanwhile, your chains await. Do you wish a bedmate, or a watcher?"
"If it pleases Master, this first night is special to me, alone."
"It’s just as special to me, so it will be private - as private as anything can be with cameras everywhere."
Georgina was tempted to thumb her nose at the camera, but she recognized the need for surveillance. They were there as much for her as for her Master. She composed herself on the bed, after locking both ankles and her left wrist. Glen finished the job with her right wrist, using his tongue to lick from her wrist, across the palm and up her little finger. Georgina jerked as if she had been shot, then wriggled back into her inviting, legs fully spread, position.
Glen adjusted her chains, allowing him to penetrate her from the back as he spooned against her. When he had her filled to capacity, he moved his head and bit gently on her earlobe.
"You heard Selene tell her life story. Do I need to hang you from the rafters to get your history?"
"No, Master. She said it was good for her to share her painful life - and it should be helpful to me too."
"Why don’t you start with your jewelry?"
"Master I still wear my slave jewelry, the ring through my clit and the two rows of rings down my cunt lips. You were kind enough to cut the thin chain and lock , releasing my pussy for Master’s use. The rings were inserted by my Master-husband one at a time over a period of two years, justified by demerits he had given me that a whip wasn’t strong enough to erase.
"The clit ring is my cross to bear. The curved needle that had been slowly forced through my tenderest flesh split several nerves in the process, leaving raw nerve endings pressed against the ring that followed. The ring was fashioned of titanium, impervious to all but a diamond saw blade.
"The wound throbbed for months. When the throbbing stopped the pain set in. I couldn’t touch any part of my body that was closer than four or five inches to my clit. He would beat me with a heavy electrical cable until I would touch myself. I was never allowed to come. Always just to the edge, never on beyond. He bought a scalpel in a surplus store and threatened to cut my clit out of my body.
"He was unpredictable in many ways, especially with the noise I made while he was beating me. One night he would urge me to scream until my voice cracked. The next night the slightest sigh or moan that he could hear - even when I was fully gagged - would set him off and he would attack me until I started bleeding from my wounds.
"I first met him while waiting in line for my driver’s license. He picked me out of the pack as the one available submissive in the room. He took my arm and pulled me out the door and bundled me into his car, without saying a word. I was so overwhelmed that I didn’t protest, even when he pulled a set of handcuffs out from under my seat and locked them on my wrists. They were connected to a short chain, attached to the base of the seat, so I had to crouch forward, bent almost double.
"He made me keep my head down for the entire drive, so I had no idea where he was taking me. Just before we reached his home he blindfolded me. He was laughing with glee when we drove into his garage. I heard the garage door come down. I spent a month as his prisoner before I heard that sound again."
Glen had started moving, very slowly in and out of her well lubricated cunt. Listening to her story was as arousing for him as watching a naked woman. Georgina was fully aware of the effect she was having on him, but she found herself getting aroused, both by the rampant cock that was drilling her and by her own words. Up to that moment she had never shared more than a few hints of the way she had been mistreated. The release triggered a rush of energy that made her squeeze her muscles in a steadily increasing pattern around him. Like any man, Glen could take only so much before his orgasm took control. Georgina could feel the spurts deep in her womb, the last thing she remembered for several minutes.
Glen had continued his slow movement, at a serious cost, but it was nirvana for Georgina, who came repeatedly, each climax seeming to push ahead of the previous one. By the time she came back to the real world, Glen had unfastened her, so she slid out of the bed, holding herself with one hand to avoid a drip as she hurried to the bathroom. Glen lay on his back, enjoying the post-climax rush. Georgina came back to the bed and crawled on her hands and knees to him, engulfing him until she could feel the head swelling well down in her throat. She pulled back, licked up her juices and his, cleaning him, ready for the next round.
Selene was an excellent motivator. For the first few days the gibbets at the front entrance had remained empty. At a meeting of the teachers, she informed them that they were to pick their worst student, or the biggest trouble maker and install them in one of the gibbets. Then she surprised them.
"I’ve decided that the teacher or trainer who does the poorest job will occupy the other one. I’m tempted to say they will remain there until someone else screws up, but that might overdo the punishment. For now the trainees won’t be expected to volunteer, but, since you are the ones who set the example, I expect that when you realize you haven’t been doing your job you will ask to be incarcerated. How many of you feel that you could do your job better?"
Two or three hands went up, then dropped, leaving one teacher with her hand up.
"What makes you think you aren’t doing your job?"
"First Mistress, I am a submissive. I don’t feel right ordering slaves around, even other submissives. I don’t have the guts to tell them what to do."
"Do you think you can do a better job locked in the gibbet?"
The teacher hung her head. "Yes, First Mistress."
"Very well. You will be assigned to the gibbet to the right of the walkway as you come in. Your class will be brought to you, to see you being punished and to be taught your lessons."
She turned to the rest. "Now, who has a candidate for the other cage?"
Three hands went up, including Amy’s.
"Why?"
"The slave isn’t paying attention. She’s experienced and thinks she doesn’t need this training."
"The slave is always trying to talk to the slaves next to her."
Amy’s answer was similar, "She’s disrupting the class, asking questions she knows the answer to."
"Amy, call a guard the next time she does it. She won’t enjoy her stay."
Amy didn’t have long to wait. The same slave who had challenged her authority was asking one question after another, not giving Amy a chance to teach the other slaves. Amy patiently answered three questions. The fourth was too much.
"Slave, you’ve asked one too many questions, deliberately disrupting the class and trying to make me look bad. You will miss a week’s training, which will be added on at the end of your stay in the STF. You will spend the week in the gibbet."
She had already pressed a button on her remote, and as she finished speaking a guard entered, stun gun at the ready.
"Class, what did I teach you about a slave assigned to the gibbet?"
Four hands went up. The fifth slave glared at the guard, afraid of his stun gun.
"Two."
"Mistress, the punishment requires a full chain set, weight determined by the teacher."
"Get the heaviest set and dress the slave."
Five shifted her gaze from the guard to Amy. Her eyes spewed hatred. Amy had seen that look before. This time she was in a position of authority, not on the receiving end. When the last lock was closed Amy smiled.
"Perhaps this will teach you to obey orders. Guard, put her in the gibbet at the main gate. Come back in an hour with a coffle chain."
Sarah had suggested that each slave be assigned a number, both to identify them and to show their rank in the class. Selene approved it and they quickly found that while there was some confusion because of the frequent reassigning of numbers, it instilled the concept of rank. During any given day, a slave might wear two or more numbers.
Those who ended the day with a five were prime candidates for the gibbet and any slave that remained a five for more than two days was guaranteed a stay. There were now three sets of gibbets - the ones at the main entrance, the new set at the STF and the ones at the front door of the Discipline Barracks. The slaves considered the ones at the main gate the worst of the three because the inmate was exposed to the weather, burned by the sun, drenched by the rain, hot metal in the daylight hours, frosty iron at night.
Although she already was training on other subjects, Amy’s class on oral sex was a classic. She had only trained her group, but Selene, after reviewing the tape, ordered her to give the training to the other four groups as well.
For the girl-girl action she picked one of the group who was a five, or who in any way disrupted the class. The selected slave was chained on an OBGYN table, with her legs extended and spread. This had already happened to slave Five, before she was sent to the hanging cage.
Amy would then proceed to demonstrate the proper tongue action to bring the slave to a slow boil. At this point she would stop long enough to deny the writhing slave an orgasm, on the threat of a week in the gibbet. She also used the opportunity to warn the class that typically a Master would deny his slave a climax, especially until he reached his own. "Orgasms are not a right for a slave, they are something you earn by properly arousing and satisfying him."
To the disbelief of the slaves, Amy described her own situation as an example of what they could expect, "My Master has forbidden me to feel arousal of any sort, and forbade me from reaching a climax under any circumstances. I can be masturbated, licked, fucked, watch bondage movies for days on end and my cunt will stay bone dry."
The slaves were muttering to themselves, shaking their heads.
"You don’t believe me?"
Every head nodded.
"Put two fingers in your twat and then hold them up."
The wetness on every hand was obvious across the room. The slaves had been aroused by her tongue work. Amy spread her legs, jabbed her fingers into her opening, worked them around and held them up - dry.
"Now, watch this."
She pressed the remote and the TV screen came to life. The camera zoomed in showing Amy and Glen:
As he loomed over her, his rod knocking at the gates of her pussy, he finally spoke. "For this night only, you will be fully aroused. You will beg me for an orgasm, knowing you will be punished for asking. If you are sincere, if you love me, you will come - at my command."
Amy screamed into Georgina’s hand over her mouth, a cry of pure animal passion. When she could speak, she panted, "I love... you, Master. Please, Maste..."
Her plea turned into an incoherent rising wail as he drove into her, spreading her channel to accept him. Georgina’s nimble fingers played with Amy’s nipples, feeling life in them after days of deprivation.
Amy dared not say the word. All she could do was match each of Glen’s strokes, "Please! Please! Please! Please! Please! Please! Please! Please!"
"Please. What?"
"Please, Master, let me come. You can punish me any way you choose. Just let me come, please, Master."
Amy’s face was flushed as she relived those moments. She looked into the equally flushed faces of the slaves. One raised a tentative hand. Amy nodded permission.
"How long has it been since he.... you... came?"
"That’s part of my punishment, so I’m not allowed to answer. Just be warned, it could happen to you. A sour face or unthinking words could make it much worse."
Amy paused for effect. "Slave Two, trade your number with Slave Three. You forgot my title."
"Yes, Mistress. Thank you for punishing me."
When Glen woke, he was still hard, and still buried to the hilt in Georgina. He pushed tentatively, striking bottom. She groaned in ecstacy. He pumped again, fingers searching for her flint hard nipples. She groaned, much louder. He pumped again.
She burst into a torrent of words, "OhmyGod! Master, mercy! A slave begs permission to come!"
"Only after your Master has been satisfied and has come."
"Hurry, Master! I’m about to come."
Somewhat to his own amazement he discovered he was one stroke away from causing a flood. He reared back, almost coming fully out of her, then slammed full length, his excited bellow matching her keening scream of satisfaction.
The euphoria lasted only a few moments. Georgina did the "I’m full of sperm" trot to the bathroom. Glen rolled over on his back, eyeing his cock as it slowly deflated. He closed his eyes, reliving the remarkable feeling of waking up and being balls deep in her cunt. He was nearly back to sleep when Georgina returned. She gave him a lolly pop lick to clean him up, then started to lie down beside him.
"Uh uh, we’ve got work to do." He grinned at her. "I sure hope you’re on the pill."
"Hah! I stopped that 20 years ago. Remember, I’m just an over-the-hill porn star, Master."
"Not in my book. I think you need to teach a class over at the STF. Something like ‘Fucking 101.’"
"Master! I hope you’re kidding!"
Glen just grinned for an answer.
It was Amy’s day to teach the novice class of slaves. She had the full five to work with. As usual she picked Slave Five to be the guinea pig. Just from her reaction, Amy asked, "Are you a virgin?"
The slave’s mouth opened and she froze. After a long moment she barely nodded her head, her cheeks a solid red.
"One demerit for failing to give a vocal response to a question and one more for failing to use my title. I don’t believe you. There’s no such thing as a virgin slave."
"Mistress, I was born a slave. My mother was a slave. The man who fathered me was a Master wearing a mask. Mother never was told who the father was. I have worn a chastity belt since I had my first period. My Master volunteered me for this training. He removed my belt and sent me to you."
Amy walked between the slave’s splayed legs and pushed two fingers into her pussy. She penetrated barely past her nails before she met resistance. She nodded, then motioned the other four slaves to come forward. Each in turn felt the girl’s hymen, a barrier that all of them had long since breached.
"You realize that you won’t leave here with that?"
"Yes, Mistress. I was informed by one of the guards in great detail."
"Would you rather that I fixed the problem with a dildo?
"Mistress, my Master specified that I be deflowered, as he put it, in the normal course of my training."
Amy shook her head. "Five, I can tell you right now that your deflowering will not be in the normal course of your training. You’d better pray that it’s nothing worse than a public ceremony involving you and the entire guard force. In the meantime, let’s get on with the lesson. Have you had any girl-girl experience?"
"No, Mistress."
"Well, today’s the day. All of you, as slaves, can be expected to know all there is to know about pleasing either men or women. You don’t get to pick and choose. Because some of you probably have never examined yourself closely below your belt, I want you to take a very close look at Five’s plumbing. Slave One, tell me exactly, using your crudest language, what you see."
"Mistress, I see an open cunt, surrounded by inner and outer lips. I see her clit, peeping out from under its hood. Below it I see her asshole winking at us."
"Exactly."
Amy could see the flush turn the girl’s breasts pink as she blushed at being so closely examined. She was especially embarrassed that her sphincter was rhythmically opening and closing, as if inviting something to penetrate her. Amy called the class’s attention to the slave’s blush, pointing out the moment where it reached her cunt.
"Master’s love to see a slave blushing. Unfortunately it’s not something you can control or turn on at will. If you are one of the few lucky ones who still blush over your use, flaunt it, don’t hide it."
Amy stuck her tongue out, then bent between Five’s legs. The tip touched the girl’s clit. She tried to rise off the table, jerking her chains in a clash of metal. Amy stopped and looked at the four faces peering at her.
"I’ll wager this slave has never been licked before. You heard her say that she has been locked in a chastity belt."
She slapped the slave’s thigh. "Didn’t your Master ever lick you?"
"No, Mistress. He said it was beneath his dignity. I asked him once and was severely punished for suggesting it."
"Gather round and watch what I do with my tongue."
The slaves moved in closer, just a few inches from Amy’s head. Five cringed, anticipating the tongue that was about to torture her. Amy looked both ways to make sure they were watching, then stuck her tongue out again and traced a path between the lips and straight to her clit. Five groaned in sweet agony, already panting. Amy, for the benefit of her audience, kept her tongue extended, so that it was readily visible. Five’s arms and legs were trembling, muscles knotting. Her head whipped from side to side, every breath a groan. Finally she couldn’t stand the lapping tongue.
"Mistress, may I have my first come, please?"
"Not until my demonstration is finished. Hold it, and do NOT let go. You are a slave and your orgasms are controlled by your Master or Mistress. Disobey my order and you will spend 24 hours in the gibbet."
She looked at the class. "Some Masters will not only punish a slave for coming without permission, they will equally punish their slave for begging permission. You saw that happen to me on the video. You need to remember that the Master is ALWAYS in control of your body and its functions. You don’t piss, you don’t shit, you don’t come without his specific permission. He decides, not you."
The lecture gave Five a chance to recuperate and slide down from the peak she had nearly climbed. However, it also gave her clit a chance to react that would make the next touch painful more than pleasurable. That fact was obvious when Amy resumed. Five went into spasms, fighting her body, denying the orgasm that swelled within her, groaning as if each breath were her last.
Amy stopped again. "Stick out your tongues."
The four slaves obediently opened their mouths. Three had the longest tongue.
"Three, get in here and show me you’ve learned something."
The first stroke was tentative, the next almost fully experienced. Five’s moans went up an octave.
"Nibble on the lips. Bite, but gently. Think about teeth on your pussy."
Five didn’t have to think. Although she had a second’s advance warning, the first teeth nearly did her in. She couldn’t picture one woman chewing another "down there," but she was getting graphic details from the nerves in her own cunt. She yelped like a whipped dog at each bite.
Four, Two and One all got the same reaction although they had to get closer to the action. It made no difference to Five, who was bouncing in her bonds, gasping for breath. Amy added some more advice.
"Unless you are specifically ordered to, don’t bite her clit. If your target isn’t fully restrained she can break an arm or a leg, or even suffer cardiac arrest. Then too, if you break the skin, that’s a nasty place to have an infection. You know what feels good on your body, so make sure you treat her body the same way. One more thing. Licking can and will be used as a punishment by many Masters. You’ve seen Five raising a fuss about being licked for a few seconds at a time. Just imagine what she will feel if all five of us take turns for several hours of non-stop pussy sucking."
Hearing the threat of a relay race on her cunt was more than Five could take. Abjectly, she begged, "Mistress, please! Please don’t keep licking me. Please, Mistress! You can punish me any way but that. I’ve been a good slave. I’ve held my climax like you ordered, but... I... can’t... hold... it... much... longer!"
Amy wormed her finger into the clit’s nest. She announced, "The class is over. You may come."
As she said it, she pressed her nail into the white pearl. Five lifted one end of the table off the floor as she screamed her release. All the slaves watched in open mouthed amazement. One and Three had never performed a lesbian coupling, so Five’s reaction came as a complete surprise.
When Five was calm enough to release, Amy unfastened the chains and helped her to a sitting position. A glass of water appeared and was gratefully accepted by the sweating slave. "Mistress, may I ask a question?" Five had a puzzled look on her face.
"Of course. Open time, for all of you."
"Mistress, are you a lesbian?" Five asked bluntly.
The other slaves swallowed titters and fought to keep their faces expressionless. All four pictured Five as getting soundly punished for asking such a question.
"Good question. Why do you ask?"
"Because you knew exactly where to touch me and how hard or soft. I’ve never had more than one orgasm at a time before this! Your nail, pressing on my clit just as I started to come, kept me coming, again and again. I know, if I ever get permission to come again that I will remember and touch that spot and have one pop after another."
"That’s a good lesson for all of you. If we had the time and I felt that you deserved it, you all could try for multiples. It’s a sensation you will never forget. Overdoing it can be extremely painful."
"As to your question. No. I am not a lesbian. I enjoy being fucked by my Master too much. But, as I have mentioned before, I am being punished and this is part of my punishment. I can say that I have been VERY well trained, as Five just attested. We intend to have you at least as well trained when you go out of here."
Georgina knew that her days were numbered. Nothing was said and Glen didn’t allude to it, but there were little things that a veteran like Georgina would pick up on. The most significant was the fact that Amy had been promoted to a Brown Belt. As far as she was concerned, Amy more than deserved the promotion, because the other Mistresses had begun remarking on her teaching ability. She was a little surprised that Amy had changed enough to be willing to show others why she was being punished, but she applauded the initiative that Amy was showing.
Glen, being a man, was not as swift in picking things up, but even he was becoming aware that Amy was no longer Amy the troublemaker. Glen, in his own defense, was adept at reading minds, but that required direct contact with the person and he had only seen Amy that one night, although he watched her for hours on end on the Security monitor.
Selene came into his living room and knelt before him. She had a DVD in her hand.
"Master, you may not have seen this."
He motioned toward the machine and she loaded it and turned it on.
The two watched in silence to the very end. It was a tape of Amy’s class. Selene rose and shut the machine off, leaving the tape. She knelt before him again, even though as a Red Belt she didn’t need to.
"Master, she’s changed, and for the better. She’s the best teacher I have."
"You think I should cancel the rest of her punishment and take her back." It was not a question.
"Master, I didn’t say that. I was one of the group that unanimously recommended to you that you divorce her and send her back to the States. All I’m doing is showing you what’s going on, so you can make your own decision. I do not presume to tell a Master what to do. If you had followed my advice, I would not now have an excellent teacher."
"Protestation aside, you know I value your opinion and advice. If I took her back, would you continue to use her as a teacher?"
Selene waved her hand at the DVD machine.
"Master, if she were no longer under a gag rule, her message to those trainees would have been ten times as effective, which is saying a lot. I have no doubt that she will expose her entire past, the punishments she was enduring. She is an absolutely ideal object lesson. You have been cruel to her. She will not backfire at you, but instead will use it as a teaching tool. She has also learned from the experience."
"So, you want me to do something, so you can have a good teacher."
"Master, you indeed are the Master, and it’s up to you to figure it out."
She jumped nimbly to her feet and fled, anxious to get out of range if he decided to be angry. Glen just shook his head and started to rewind the DVD.
In the right hand gibbet at the main gate, Slave Five of the punishment group simmered. There was a slave she didn’t know in the other cage, but efforts to talk to her had brought a guard on the run. He jabbed her twice with his electric prod, warning her again that she was not allowed to talk. The other slave had watched silently as she was punished. Five had vengeance on her mind. She ignored the threat of a gag.
In the hospital wing apartment there was a locked room. Dr. Steve had the only key and the room was off limits to everyone else.
With one exception.
The lone occupant, as might be expected was Dr. Steve’s wife-slave, Penny. Despite all her experience with bondage, she had never had any contact with hospital restraints. "Her" room was fully equipped with every medical restraint known anywhere in the world. She had as much fun furnishing it as the average housewife would in remodeling her kitchen.
The one problem Dr. Steve had was that Penny did not want to leave her room, for any reason or any occasion. She literally had to be whipped out of her self-imposed restraints and into suitable clothes for the wife of the Hospital Director, to attend a staff party or have dinner with other doctors and their wives.
Her oft repeated plea was "Leave me here, in chains, to suffer while you have fun."
That, invariably got her a couple of real zingers that made sitting at a banquet table a lesson in composure. She would fidget just enough to draw Dr. Steve’s frowning attention, which would ensure a painful session when they got back to their apartment.
Georgina spent most of the day in a daze, her eyes glazed over, seeming to be looking at the distant horizon. She barely managed her duties, depending on the slaves who served as housemaids to do their job without her looking over their shoulders.
She was infatuated with the big cock that had given her so much pleasure. Waking up with it jammed against her cervix was an experience that she would happily welcome on a daily basis. She knew that many women wouldn’t have been able to handle that big a cock, but she liked it that large - and that long.
The daze wasn’t just because she had been thoroughly reamed after a length of time she didn’t want to figure. What was bothering her was the aftermath of her revelations of her past. The two had combined to bring back memories that she thought she had buried for all time, but she had slept and dreamed of several forgotten incidents in her slavery over and over again. It’s bad enough to dream that you are running naked through big crowds of people. It’s quite another thing to dream you are nude, walking into a room full of people, shuffling in your chains, clips on your nipples and being led by a leash snapped to a clamp on your nose. In typical dream fashion - or perhaps you would consider it a nightmare - she couldn’t see the face of the person holding her leash, but she knew that it was her husband. She knew the year, the month and the day, indelible in her memory as the day she serviced a house full of people for the first time.
When she woke to Glen’s thrust, she thought it part of her dream, but she knew at once that the feelings were no dream.
As evening came, she prepared the bedroom, making sure the chains on her side of the bed were coiled and ready. Just touching the warm metal links fired her arousal, gasping for one breath. She turned back the bed, smoothing the fresh sheets. She didn’t dare speculate as to whether he would take her again on this night.
Glen came home from the office early, as if he sensed that Georgina was waiting impatiently for his return. He too had been turning their coupling over in his mind. Despite her age she was hot piece and he too had been looking forward to a repeat of the previous night. It was nearly an hour until dinner would be served. He dreaded the subject, but he had to do it.
"Selena came by this morning and left a DVD. I want you to watch it and tell me what you think."
He turned the machine on and sat in the recliner while she sat on the couch. He watched as intently as she did, seeing Amy go through her teaching routine. He watched the faces of the other slaves to see their reactions as Amy talked. When the tape ended, Georgina sighed.
"Master, you’re going to take her back, and I’m out of a job."
"I think we went through this once before, only it was Amy complaining that she was going to be jobless."
"Yes, Master, but that was during the time she was being heavily punished."
"What makes you think I’m going to take her back?"
"Two things, Master. One, you wouldn’t have shown me the DVD if you weren’t thinking about it, and two, she’s a superb teacher. I wouldn’t have the guts to stand in front of a class and admit that I was being punished, knowing that my refusing to answer would raise a hell of a lot of speculation. She worked it into what she was teaching them and made an object lesson of herself. That’s not the ‘kiss my ass’ Amy that I knew."
"You must have been talking to Selene. She said much the same thing. She said flatly that Amy is her best teacher."
"Master, I haven’t seen Selene all day. Just what I saw on the screen was enough to express an opinion. The funny part was that she aroused all the slaves - and made them like it. They aren’t going to get any relief for weeks or months."
"Well, aren’t you going to suggest that I do something?"
"Master, I’m sure Selene told you just what I’m going to tell you. All of the Mistresses wanted you to divorce her and send her home. You are the Master, you have to make the decision."
Glen groaned. "Oh, Lord, not another one. How about some sage advice? After all you are the senior First Mistress."
"Master, my advice is as suspect as Selene’s, more so actually because my just-assumed job will be on the line. From all appearances you were right and we Mistresses were wrong. I don’t want to get between you and Amy, if you two can straighten out your differences."
Georgina sat silent for several moments. She looked at Glen, who was watching her expectantly.
"Master, with your permission, I will do this. I want Amy watching tonight and as the cleanup crew. I’m betting that she will be at least a little jealous, but nothing like in the past. She wouldn’t be human if she wasn’t at least a little jealous. I intend to convince her that she is going to have to work even harder before she can replace me. It should be educational for her to hear what I went through."
She grinned and added, "It will be nice not having to trot to the bathroom every time you fire that howitzer of yours, Master."
"That’s the first time anyone called it that!"
"Master, what did you expect? You could sink a battleship with all that sperm."
After dinner, they watched TV and made conversation, some of it rather forced because both were thinking ahead to the bedroom. Glen finally yawned and turned the set off.
"Call down and have Amy sent up."
Georgina almost "chickened" him but held her peace and made the call. The startled voice on the other end was priceless. The soft knock on the door came almost immediately. Georgina went to greet Amy as she crawled through the door. She took the proffered leash and led her to Glen’s feet. After the ritual, Georgina jerked gently on the leash, crawling her to the bedroom. Amy’s eyes widened in shock. She knew that Georgina was now Glen’s PA, but she never expected to wind up on the same bed with them. As far as she knew, she was still way back in the back of the doghouse. She hadn’t expected a greeting from Glen, but it still hurt, a little.
Amy remembered only too well the fuss she had made when Glen made Georgina his slave. Now she thought of her only as her superior and she actually felt happy for Glen to have someone experienced in his bed. She mentally counted noses, but nowhere could she find a jealous bone in her body. She also remembered how jealous she had been at the time. It was the first time she had faced her inner conflicts and it felt good.
Now she was kneeling beside the bed where Glen and his PA would make her watch as they fucked. That did bring out her jealousy, but nowhere near what it once had been. Amy didn’t realize it, but she was growing up. She reminded herself that she was a slave, Brown Belt or no, and jealousy was forbidden for a slave. It had gotten her in deep trouble before, but she resolved that it would not any more.
Glen seemed to change, in the short walk from the living room to the bedroom. He stood in front of Amy and offered his hand. She looked up, trying to understand what was going on. She reached out and he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. His arms encircled her.
"I’ve missed you."
He raised her face and kissed her, whispering, "I love you."
Georgina watched, emotionless. The thought came unbidden, ‘Now I should be the jealous one.’
At the moment Glen’s main concern was Amy. "Are you jealous of Georgina?"
"A little, Master. I am happy that you have her for a PA."
"You get to watch, but not participate. Your job will be to clean us up afterward. Can you handle that?"
"Yes, Master."
"I am going to hang Georgina by her thumbs and force her to tell us her life story. She began last night and I want you to see the tape. There are some interesting lessons for you to learn."
"Thank you, Master."
Georgina made a mock glare at Glen, then arranged herself on the center of the bed. Amy took the outside. She had a light shackle on one leg and a long piece of chain, allowing her to roam anywhere she was needed on the bed. The chains that held her were more symbolic than anything else, but Georgina was so used to them that she would sleep only fitfully if she was free of them.
Glen debated having Amy get him hard, for a brief moment, but Georgina beat him to the punch, using the slack that allowed her to turn on her side to reach him and stroke him. One touch of her hand and Glen was knocking at her portal, sliding into her tightness, gently punching her cervix. Amy groaned.
"Master, if you move, I will come." Georgina pleaded.
"If you come, I will move you to the nearest whipping post and turn you into one big welt."
Despite thinking that it would be a worthy swap, Georgina clamped down on her orgasm. The evening had barely begun and she had an hour or more of her story to tell. She gritted her teeth. It would not be easy.
"He picked a whip off the garage wall. It was prophetic, because I never saw him again without that whip in his hand. He beat me until I begged him to tear off my clothes. He made me name each item of clothing, then beg specifically to have it ripped or cut from my body. When I was naked, he whipped me for begging, and I had to name each piece of my clothing before I got the stroke.
Hanging beside the whip was a leather punishment helmet. I had never seen one before and had no idea what it was or what it was for. I got whipped soundly for not being able to name it. Then I had to beg him to lock me in it and another whipping for my begging.
"The first of a multitude of rules was enforced with the whip. I had to crawl on my belly anywhere I went in the house. I crawled, but my tits came up off the floor. He made me turn over and ask for ten on each breast, plus an extra ten for begging. I was half out of my mind with fear and pain. He had me thinking of nothing but pleasing that damn whip.
"He kept me in that helmet for at least a week. Most of the time I was gagged. He’d ask me questions while I was gagged and then beat me for refusing to answer. If I made any sound when he took the gag out he would jam it back in, or get a bigger gag and force it into my mouth.
"He introduced me to butt plugs. I still wear the rings he put in my flesh around my asshole, that he locked the plug to. That was one of the first steps to taking complete control of me and my body. When he filled my ass with one I had to beg for a bigger one, or a longer one and beg him to lock it in me so that I couldn’t pull it out. Not that I would have dared. He had me so scared that more than once I pissed myself while he was working me over. That led to a cork in my urethra and endless hours of severe pain in my bladder. I was scared stiff that it would trigger a kidney infection, but it never did.
"With those two bodily functions under his control, he went to work on my breathing. I had to commit all of his rules to memory, so he had me repeating, ‘I cannot piss without Master’s permission. I cannot shit without Master’s permission.’
"The new one of course was, ‘I cannot breathe without Master’s permission.’ He played breath games with me by the hour. He’d make me draw half a breath and hold it, then exhale and hold it, so that I was going two or three minutes without air. If I fainted, I’d wake up with a plastic bag over my head, taped tight to my neck. He would watch me with a nasty grin on his face as I used up the small amount of oxygen in the bag. He had an oxygen bottle with a small tube that he used to prolong my stay in the bag. He trained me to beg with the last breath of air. If I panicked and begged too soon he would start all over again. I still can’t see a plastic bag without remembering the feel of that empty bag pressing against my face.
"He got a surplus gas mask and put locking straps on it. I had to wear the mask and watch him as he held the tube in front of my eye pieces. He would slowly close the valve that allowed air into the tube. Just the tube by itself ensured that I was re-breathing about 90 percent of my air supply. I learned the hard way not to beg him to open the valve until the last possible second."
Georgina paused and squirmed slightly, adjusting her position. Glen responded by moving in and out an inch or so. Any lag on either’s part came up to speed instantly. Georgina clamped down hard.
"He was breaking me down. I had already reached the point where I would promise anything to make him stop. He caught on quickly and made me suggest punishments and then beg him to use them on me.
"He chained me up, with a 50 pound weight locked to one ankle. Then he dumped me in a hole in the floor and turned on the water. He slid a steel grate over the hole. The water kept rising until my face was pressed between two bars to get any air. My hands were locked behind my back, so I knew I could last only a minute or two before the weight would pull me down and drown me. With my last breath I rattled off several severe punishments, knowing as I said them that he would use every one and keep me screaming for hours.
"One of the suggestions I made was a torture cell to keep me in. He hung me by my wrists and whipped me while I dreamed up every torture I could think of. He went ahead and built the cell in his basement. He put me in a pillory so I had to stand and watch. Whenever he took a break he picked up the whip and made me add something new, or refine what I had already suggested. I got plenty of extras for ‘ordering’ him to do the things. He even made me preface each suggestion with: ‘I order you to,’ so that he had an excuse to beat me.
"When the cell was finished it was like my worst nightmare. The floor was covered with sharp studs. The floor, the bars and the walls were electrified. The floor was the worst because it was impossible to put a foot down without getting a shock. Lying down triggered a series of low level shocks that constantly varied in intensity. I was allowed to lie down only five hours a night. The rest of the time I had to stand on display at the front of the cell, holding the bars that constantly shocked me. For diversion, there was a stand in the center of the cell, a compact version of the wooden horse. If I wished to rest, I had to ride the horse for a minimum of one hour. The so-called saddle had electric contacts which zapped my labia. If my horse time overlapped my sleep time, then I lost that time.
"For the first several months I was literally holding my breath, expecting to get raped at any moment, or at the least forced to suck his cock. I was beginning to think he was gay, but he had a plan for me.
"One morning I awoke to the usual whip alarm clock. He locked a hobble chain between my ankles and put my wrists in cuffs attached to my belt. A dildo and butt plug were shoved in dry and locked in place. A heavy collar was fixed on my neck, with a chain leash attached permanently to it. The biggest gag he could find was pushed into my mouth. He made me crawl on my belly across the house to a room I had been in only once before, when I was made to tour the house.
"The first thing I saw was a man waiting. I had never seen him before. When I crawled into the room I discovered there were two nude women kneeling against the wall, restrained much as I was. Nobody bothered to tell me, but by listening I learned that the man was a Justice of the Peace and that the two women were his wife and daughter. To my horror I discovered that I was about to participate in a marriage ceremony - and I was the blushing bride!
"I tried to protest, despite the gag, which earned me an unkind cut between my legs. Under the threat of a repeated whipping I stopped making noises. I lowered my head and looked at the other two women. They were looking at me, but without the slightest hint of compassion or sympathy. Reliving that moment later I decided they were well trained slaves.
"The ceremony began as a normal wedding. ‘Do you, Harry, take this woman... Do you, Georgina, take this man...’ When it was my turn to respond, the JP said, ‘Nod your head.’ I so wanted to end this farce, shake my head and run from the room, but that was not to be. Harry had a firm grip on my leash, I was hobbled and my hands were useless at my belt. I nodded.
"Then came the worst part. The ceremony changed from marriage to slavery. I couldn’t believe my ears as the JP and Harry recited the words that would make me his permanent slave. I had no part in the drama. I heard them say that I had agreed, and not only agreed, but begged to be enslaved. That was my chance to protest, to deny any agreement, but Harry was waving his whip at me, effectively silencing any disruption in the process of making me his slave.
"The rest was bizarre. The JP shook hands with Harry and congratulated him on his new slave. He turned and nodded to his slaves, ignoring me. One at a time they knee-walked to me, nuzzled my cheek with their gagged mouths and then backed into position at the wall again. This was my introduction to slavery."
"They watched me belly out the door, to the singing snarl of Harry’s whip. I would quickly find that marriage was a farce and slavery would occupy my every waking moment and most of my dreams. If anything, he treated me worse as a wife than he had when I was his trainee slave.
"The marriage bed he had prepared for me would have been a joke if it hadn’t been so terrifying. The bottom sheet was lying on top of hundreds of thumbtacks. My body weight of course pushed them through the cloth and into my skin. I tried to roll away from them only to meet Harry’s waiting whip.
"I was not chained to the bed, as I am now. Harry had massive bars, that he could barely lift, that he laid across my wrists and ankles. Any movement, or any effort to pull out from under them hurt. Just plain hurt.
"Harry shed his clothes, changing the whip from hand to hand. I had quickly learned that he was adept with either hand. He pointed his whip at my breasts, my signal to beg for them to be whipped. Harry wasn’t even half hard, but he stiffened slowly as he whipped me. When my breasts were ruined, he pointed down my body, between my legs. I knew exactly what was coming and I wanted to curl into a ball. I had no choice. My legs were spread, pinned to the bed, with the sharp tacks digging into my ankle bones. I abjectly begged to be whipped between my legs. He got my clit with the first slash. My scream sent his hardon pointing to the sky.
"He shoved the tacks aside and mounted me. With his first thrust he discovered I was a virgin. I was promptly punished for not telling him the information. To make it worse, he mounted me again and rather than pushing into me with a quick shove, he pushed very slowly to make it hurt more until my hymen finally ruptured. I forgot to thank him for deflowering me, which enraged him. He punished me for a week.
"Then he took me back to the bed to take my ass, He made sure I was kneeling on the tacks and started pushing into me without any lubrication. He moved about trying to penetrate me and scraped his leg on one of the tacks. I had to suggest and agree that I would sleep on a tack bed for a week before he would stop beating me. Then he started beating me again, accusing me of ‘tightening up’ as he tried to get into me. I begged for lubrication, which cost me another week on the tacks. Once he was oiled up he drove into me full force, slamming his balls against my sore cunt.
"When he took my mouth, after questioning me repeatedly about any prior experience - which I didn’t have - he put my head in a vise, closing the wooden jaws on the sides of my head, making it impossible to move. I could open my mouth and move my tongue, but that was all. Then - there are no other words for it - he fucked my face like a knothole in a fence.
"Once he had violated all three holes, he forgot about marriage and went straight to torture mode on me, his slave. He always gave me the impression that I somehow had forced him to marry me. It made absolutely no sense, then or now, looking back at it. He treated me far worse after we were married than before."
Amy lay, leaning on one elbow, watching Georgina’s face, listening to every word. She was shocked by what she heard, and correctly assumed that the really scary parts were still to come. She already had adsorbed enough to realize that her punishments had been no more than a slap on the wrist compared to what Georgina had endured and survived. She realized too that she was learning how to survive from what Georgina was telling them.
Glen was looking at it with different eyes. As a Master, he was constantly on the lookout for fresh ideas to use in disciplining his slaves. He was also enjoying a direct connection. He could feel the play of muscles as she related her story and from that he had a very good idea of what turned her on. It meshed quite well with what turned him on, so he knew that before very long she would be forced to give in to her arousal and beg him to take her. He also knew that Amy was getting nothing in the way of arousal, obedient to his order. He was sure that sooner or later she would use it as an object lesson for her trainees.
He stirred. Georgina stopped talking and pushed back against him. Glen released her wrists and helped her to her hands and knees. He got behind her, shoved her legs apart and pressed into her. Georgina grunted with satisfaction as he began a pattern of long slow strokes that measured her entire depth. Amy watched, as fascinated as if she had never seen a couple in action. Glen barely remembered to remind Georgina that she could come as soon as he did.
The noise level increased steadily as the two panted and groaned toward a mutual climax. Amy fidgeted, wanting badly to add to their pleasure in some way, but afraid of incurring the wrath of either one, or both. In the heat of battle Glen remembered a night long ago. He wondered if Amy remembered the joke. He turned his head to her and ordered, "Milk the cow."
She knew, instantly. She scrambled forward, reaching for the two hanging breasts that were rocking back and forth. Unerringly her fingers caught Georgina’s nipples and began to ravage them, pulling and squeezing, almost a parody of milking a cow. Georgina was ecstatic. She couldn’t remember her own name, let alone whether she had ever had her tits pulled while she was being fucked doggy fashion, but it probably was a first for her. Her moans and groans were boosting the noise level right along with her pending climax. Just when she thought she would lose it, she felt Glen spurting in her passage and she just plain screamed with enjoyment. Amy had to let go to cover her ears, but by then Georgina was so deep in her multiple orgasms that she didn’t miss Amy’s fingers on her nipples.
Glen recovered enough to announce cleanup time. He positioned Amy and pulled out, allowing her to stem the immediate leakage. He watched as she expertly sucked Georgina’s pussy, drawing out Glen’s sperm and gobs of lubrication. Then she moved over to Glen’s tool and cleaned it from top to bottom with her tongue. Finished, she went back to her corner of the bed and waited for orders.
Glen reached over and found her hand, and held it. "Would you like to come too?"
Without hesitation she responded, "If it pleases Master, I would like it."
"For the next half hour, you will again feel arousal and be able to climax. As usual, you will beg permission to come, knowing that you will be punished for begging."
"Yes. Master."
"Georgina, our slave was kind enough to clean us both up. Would you mind returning the favor?"
"Gladly, Master."
She reached out and enfolded Amy in her arms, giving her a big hug. While it was not what Amy expected, it was very much to her liking. After all, "Any port in a storm."
Georgina positioned Amy and got between her legs. Glen handed her a pillow and Amy raised up enough to put it under her ass. Glen had one more order.
"Amy, I want you to get a grip on my rod and work it while you are being serviced. I get to come first, and then you can beg permission. Understood?"
"Yes, Master."
Immediately her small hand closed around him, finding pre-come to lubricate with.
Georgina’s tongue carried an expert label but, given the parameters of this race, she lightened up, avoiding Amy’s clit until later, to give her a chance to milk Glen. Amy indeed needed all the wiggle room she could get, as she was starved for an orgasm and Glen was too soon after his bang-up job on Georgina.
Everything worked out well in the end and Glen spurted all over his stomach just before Amy begged permission and then exploded as Georgina’s tongue found her clit at last. As if planned, the two women jointly cleaned up Glen, sharing his sperm. And that was just the first part of the night.
Amy had to go to work at the STF so she was up before the other two awoke. On silent bare feet she slipped from the room after unlocking her shackle.
She was waiting to start her class when her phone rang. Glen issued an order. "You will find Sarah and offer to lick her pussy. That’s your punishment for begging."
He waited for her to thank him, then hung up. Amy looked up to find a guard walking toward her, escorting the slave that had been in the front gate gibbet. She cursed, silently.
At that moment Sarah came around the corner. Amy greeted her, then told her, "I’m being punished. I was ordered to give you a cunt lapping."
Sarah’s eyebrows went up. She knew better than to ask, but she had an immediate idea that could be fun.
"Tell you what. I’ll be your sex dummy for your class. That way I’ll get your tongue and five others."
Amy paused a second, then brightened. "Great. I’m just about ready to start."
Sarah moved suddenly in front of Amy, by pure chance just in time to intercept a blow from a steel restraint in the hands of the Five slave. The blow numbed her left arm, but she was able to get her right arm around the girl and get a hand on the piece of metal. Amy pressed her emergency button and looked around for a weapon. A single pair of heavy cuffs on a long chain was all there was. Amy swung the cuff around the slave’s neck. It circled and slammed into the other cuff in her hand, locking on the chain, so that Amy had a choke chain on the struggling slave. She jerked, hard, and the slave went down, with Sarah on top of her. Two guards pounced on the slave and had her helpless in seconds.
A guard truck rolled up to the entrance and the slave was hustled off to the DB. Sarah ordered, "Treat her as a permanent resident."
Selene came running up, and was quickly filled in on the details. She examined Sarah’s arm and called an ambulance to take her to the hospital. She came back a few minutes later, without even a bandage to show for her adventure.
"They said it was just a deep bruise. I’ll be black and blue for a couple of weeks."
"Where did she get that restraint?"
"We’ll have to check the security tapes to find that out. I was talking to Amy and then stepped in front of her just when he swung. Amy was the apparent target."
"Amy?"
"That’s the slave that I reported that was giving me problems. She just showed up from the main gate a couple of minutes before the attack. I saw her coming, escorted by a guard. I was talking to Sarah and lost track of her."
Selene went back to her office and ran the tapes. She came back with the news. "She had that restraint hidden behind a box. She went straight to it as soon as the guard left, so she had been planning it. Sending her to the main gate may have prevented an attack when Amy was alone. As for Sarah, she moved and deflected the slave’s aim. She was lucky because she was aiming for the head.
"While Sarah got her stopped, Amy deserves the credit for putting her down and out of action. That move with the cuffs was a classic! I’ve never seen them used quite that way. Both of you are to be commended."
The four slaves that were left in the class stood silently. Amy looked at them. "Five demerits apiece. Not one of you stepped forward to help two Mistresses under attack. This was a life or death situation. If Mistress Sarah hadn’t spoiled her aim I could be lying on the ground, dead. You will learn one thing and learn it well, from this incident. You defend your Master or Mistress with your last ounce of strength. All of you are hobbled and wearing wrist cuffs, but neither would stop you from aiding your Master. Heaven forbid that you are involved in another situation like this because if you don’t jump in and aid, you are gone, out of the program and headed for the DB, just like your erstwhile comrade.
"Each of you will be questioned to ensure that Five didn’t have an accomplice. If you were, you can expect the book to be thrown at you. Attacking a Master is one step short of a capital offense, so be warned.
"Now, we’re late getting this class started. You’re going to have to learn fast and hard."
She was about to designate Four as the practice dummy, but Sarah held her hand up. "Is that offer still good?"
"Are you sure you want to do that?"
"It will take my mind off my sore arm."
Amy nodded to the table. "You’re going to have to be restrained."
"Is there any other way? Adds spice to the tongue."
As Amy fixed her restraints she talked to the class. "You get a unique opportunity today to learn a few new things. I’m being punished by having to give Mistress Sarah a cunt lapping. She in turn thought it would be educational for you to see one Mistress satisfying another Mistress, so you get lucky after all.
"Remember, from yesterday’s class I told you how to use your tongue, how to hold it, and where to go with it. I’m going to demonstrate without stopping until Mistress Sarah comes. You will watch and learn, because you go next in numerical order and there are demerits waiting to go with any complaints from her. I recently completed a course where I had to earn an Excellent rating from every woman in the group. As you will find, that is not easy to do, but before you pass this class, you will have to be able to do that. Now, watch."
Amy leaned in over Sarah, who was bound with her ass resting on the very edge of the table. Amy stuck out her tongue, making sure the four trainees saw it, and that Sarah saw it. Very delicately she ran it from just north of her brown hole, up her slit with a side track or two on the labia and out the top. Sarah wriggled and smiled at Amy. She repeated the contact, with a little more pressure. Sarah groaned in response. Amy gradually narrowed the field, as it was obvious Sarah wasn’t getting anything out of the approach grooves. Sarah began panting, keying Amy to the fact that she was about to come from the combination of an expert tongue and the public spot where she was being serviced.
Each pass was a little shorter, each centered on Sarah’s clit. You could count the number of passes by the erratic rise in the keening sounds coming from Sarah’s mouth. She was beginning to fight the chains holding her firmly spread and her head began thrashing from side to side.
"I’m..." was as far as she got as she climaxed, collapsing onto the table. Amy gave her a trial lick that brought her to life, eyes wide open. She looked over at the four slaves, mentally calculating their potential skills against her capacity. She already doubted she could complete the course, but she had made the public commitment and was determined to stick with it, if for no other reason than to teach the trainees a lesson.
Amy murmured to her, "Need water, or anything?"
Sarah grinned at her. "I need another tongue."
Amy grinned back. "Keep that up and I’ll empty all the other classes and line them up here."
Sarah knew she was kidding, but it still sent a thrill through her, picturing 25 tongues, one after another.
"One, it’s your turn. She’s all warmed up and ready for you."
One went at it with vigor. Too much, and Sarah winced. Her clit was tender and needed tenderness.
Amy warned One and the others, "Keep an eye on her face. It will tell you whether you are doing it right or not."
One lightened up and was rewarded with a moan of pleasure. She got the hang of it and soon had Sarah keening through her nose again, until she came, explosively.
Two paid attention, watching both Sarah’s face and One’s tongue action. It paid off with a crashing climax that left Sarah glassy eyed.
Three and Four were pretty much a dead heat. Sarah was trembling with the strain and popped for both of them after only a few swipes.
Amy released Sarah and helped her sit up. She had worked up a sweat and felt as weak as a kitten. Amy let her recuperate for a minute, getting the water that Sarah now wanted. Then she asked, "I need the ratings for their records."
"One was fair, Two was good and Three and Four were fair. Their teacher was excellent. It made it hard to judge the others."
"Shall I call in the other classes?"
"God, No! I’ll be sore for a week as it is."