Copyrighted material, not for those under 18 years of age.
Word of the attack spread rapidly. All of the Mistresses stopped by or met Amy in the halls and congratulated her on her quick thinking. Sarah told everyone that Amy had literally saved her life. She admitted to Selene that she was losing her grip with her one good arm when Amy rescued her. Neither Sarah or Amy wanted to talk about it, but the others kept pressing for details.
Georgina had filled Glen in on the incident, going to his office to talk in private. She had run the security tape and made a copy of the pertinent sections. Glen watched it in silence, muttering under his breath a couple of times.
"Looks like Amy is today’s hero."
"She could have done the same thing as the trainees, stepped back and waited for the guards to break it up. Master, she’s changed. The old Amy wouldn’t have done that."
Glen nodded, "She certainly has changed. I fully expected a tantrum last night, but she took it like a trooper. It’s remarkable that she could lie there and watch her husband screwing another woman without throwing a fit. As you say, the ‘old’ Amy wouldn’t have lasted thirty seconds. The Mistresses have done a good job of teaching her to be a slave first."
"Master, this certainly proves her loyalty. Frankly, I’m glad you overruled us and kept her. She’s turning into a really valuable asset."
"I’ll ask the same question. Should I take her back?"
"Same answer, Master. I’m not about to make your decisions for you."
"I’m about one heartbeat away from stringing you up and beating on you until you give me an answer." His grin had a touch of frost.
"Master, I’d resign on the spot."
The Master and the slave looked at each other, neither willing to back down. Common sense took over and Glen changed the subject.
"Did they find out where that slave got that steel restraint?"
"They checked the serial number and it’s not on any equipment list that we have. The DB is checking their records. They are running tapes from the camera that was focused on where it was hidden to see if she hid it, or someone hid it for her. That was as of an hour ago, according to Selene."
Sara Mae announced a phone call. Glen picked it up. Dwight was calling from the DB. "Your people seem to have a knack for picking out the bad guys. This slave trainee turns out to be the spy we suspected. The good news is that she hadn’t had time to recruit anyone to help her, or made contact with any other spy."
"That’s great! But, how did you get all that information out of her so fast? It’s only been a matter of hours."
Dwight chuckled. "I used my secret weapon on her."
"Which is?"
"One of the inmates mentioned a really high powered version of that green Japanese mustard. I never can think of the name, but the regular stuff packs a hellova punch and this out does the regular by a factor of ten. I put the slave’s head in a vise and shoved a cotton swab with some of it smeared on it up her nose. She started sneezing like an AK-47, so fast she couldn’t draw a breath. I let her sneeze for about 20 minutes, then swabbed out her nose with alcohol. I put a big dab of the mustard on another swab and showed it to her before I aimed it up the other side of her nose. She spilled her guts on the spot."
By the time she got through giving me the information I was so pissed off that I went ahead and shoved it up her other nostril. Then I covered her mouth so she couldn’t breathe and held her nose until she ran out of air. She pulled in a big gust of air and pulled that mustard right into her sinus cavities. Man, she like to tore that vice loose from the bench. I’m going to let it wear off a little and ask her some more questions. Strikes me as real talkative."
"Great work, Dwight. Keep it up!"
As he hung up, Sara Mae held up two fingers. He pressed the button for the other line. Selene had further news. "Master, the tapes show that the guard hid the restraint for her, several days ago. We’ve got a clear picture of him doing it. He must have brought it in from outside, because none of our records or the DB records list that serial number."
"I want to get to the bottom of this. Check the main gate tapes to see when it came in."
"Yes, Master."
By late afternoon the facts had been gathered. The guard had been detailed to guard the slaves that came from the deposed President’s home. He had picked up the restraint from the transport bus and carried it through the gate without anyone noticing. Security had searched his room and discovered a transmitter hidden in a portable radio along with incriminating documents. The slave, threatened with another dose of mustard had admitted and confirmed the guard’s part in the plot. By the time the dust settled, the officer in charge of the main gate detail had been demoted, the guard was in a holding cell at the DB and several new and more stringent regulations were put into immediate effect.
Selene called an informal meeting that evening after dinner. Amy as usual was excluded. Georgina joined the group at the last minute. Selene stood up and looked around the table, then sat down again.
"What are we going to do about Amy?"
Nobody said anything for several seconds. Sara Mae piped up, "Isn’t that Master’s problem?"
"It is, and it isn’t. Both Georgina and I have talked to him about taking her back, but neither of us told him what to do. Amy has changed. She’s benefitted from her punishment. Sarah has been riding her hard and she has shown remarkable improvement, to the point where it’s more and more difficult to find reasons to punish her."
"How much longer is her punishment supposed to run?"
"About three months, give or take a day or two.
"Will Master give her time off for good behavior?"
"Precedent is against it. A Master almost never revokes a penalty."
"Would it help if we went to Master as a group?"
"You’d risk a lot doing that. You do not want a Master who is pissed off at you. Georgina and I have both risked our jobs trying to get our point across. It’s not going to help to have all of us in the doghouse.
"There is one approach that we haven’t tried. I learned this from Dr. Steve’s wife-slave, Penny. She got her husband to punish her, rather than hiring someone else to discipline her. We aren’t exactly hired, but the circumstances are still quite similar. If we can convince Master to do his own punishing, it might solve his problem and our problem. But, we need Amy to go along with it and perhaps even initiate it."
"Let’s get her in here and find out how she feels."
Sarah went and found Amy, and brought her back to the meeting. She hesitated, seeing all the faces watching her, immediately afraid that she was about to be punished for something.
Selene read the fear in her eyes and patted her hand, calming her.
"We’ve been talking about you, all of it good. You have been toeing the mark, obeying orders and keeping out of trouble. You are showing all the signs of growing up. Your teaching skills are already a valuable asset to the STF. Your loyalty, demonstrated by your rescue of Sarah, is impeccable. We see no reason to punish you further. However, we do not make the ultimate decisions. Those are the Master’s prerogative."
"This is going to be difficult for us, and especially difficult for you. We’ve discussed it and the one avenue open is for you to ask forgiveness and reinstatement. We will back you up and go with you to face your Master but you will have to convince him. We do have one suggestion - to remind him of Dr. Steve and Penny and her desire to have him punish her personally."
"If you agree to that and use it in your plea, you may be able to convince him. He is willing to listen and has asked us for advice, which we have declined to give. This is his decision to make and your future depends on your ability to convince him that you deserve a remission of sentence. You still have about three months to go before your sentence is completed, so you will need to ask for a parole, or time off for good behavior."
Amy looked from face to face, seeing nothing but compassion and concern for her. She looked especially at Sarah, who smiled back at her, easing Amy’s concern. It would mean a lot to have her in her corner.
She bowed her head, composed herself and looked up. "Thank you, Mistresses. You don’t know how much it means to me to receive your support and be accepted into your group. Months ago I always felt like an outsider, especially when I thought of myself only as Master’s wife. You have taught me the truth of ‘slave first’ and now I am proud to be Master’s slave."
"I am deeply gratified that you think I have learned enough to stand alone, without supervision. I want to say yes and agree with your suggestions, but I need time to think them over. I must be perfect, to approach Master. I must pick the right words, always fearful that I will say the wrong thing and suffer more penalties, rather than less. I will let you know as soon as I have made a decision."
Amy got up and left the room, hiding the tears flowing from her eyes. She could hear the hum of conversation rise behind her as she walked down the hall to her room.
Glen was late for supper, so there was no time for Georgina to talk to him. She was hesitant, wondering what Amy would decide.
After dinner he watched a basketball game from the States, an aura of "Do Not Disturb" around him. They chatted about the day, but Georgina didn’t mention the meeting, assuming that he had probably watched it.
The nightly routine began. The TV was off, Georgina called Amy and the three went into the bedroom. As Amy’s head passed near Georgina’s ear she whispered, "I’ve decided."
Startled. Georgina stared at her, but all she got was a serene smile. Glen settled in his favorite position, ready to enter Georgina. Amy bent double, pressing her face to the bed. "Master, we need to talk. Open time, please."
Georgina was at a loss for words. The unexpected move had her stumped.
Glen was not to be stopped. He aimed at Georgina’s pussy and slid his cock home. Comfortable, he looked at Amy. "Open time. What’s on your mind?"
"Master, I have served nine months of my sentence. My Mistresses feel that I deserve a remission of sentence, a parole."
"I don’t usually change a sentence, once pronounced. But, go on."
"Master I have learned a very bitter lesson. You assigned me to excellent teachers who have carefully cured me of the false pride that stems from ignorance. I have learned to be a slave, a good slave, even perhaps an excellent slave. I have been taught the skills of a slave, the loyalty they owe to their Master or Mistress.
"But, to serve you, I need to be a perfect slave. I can think of no better way to reach perfection than at the end of your whip. With all due respect, not in a Mistress’s hand. She is imparting what she believes are your ideals, but my perfection depends on your direct personal attention to every detail of my life.
"I’m asking your parole, not just for my benefit, but so that you may train me to be the slave you have always wanted."
"That means you want to come back to my bed." Left unsaid was, "What do I do with Georgina?"
"Master, I have thought long and hard about that. I still have three months to serve. What better way to punish me than what has occurred here the last couple of nights? Making me serve you and my Mistress, in your bed is a daily lesson in humility that I will learn anew each night. Frustrate me, until I scream, before you allow an orgasm. This makes it a personal punishment, directly from you."
"What happens to your Mistress at the end of your sentence?"
"Master, if it pleases you, my Mistress will remain my Mistress. She is superbly qualified to be your PA. As a simple slave I would not presume to replace her, even had I the authority. I have learned that I am a submissive. I can teach, but I would be helpless with any authority. If it pleases Master, I will remain as a cleaner of cocks and pussies."
"And if your jealousy returns?"
"A slave is forbidden jealousy. I have learned this lesson, but I expect my Master will teach it to me again and again that I cannot be a perfect slave if I am jealous. Master, I beg your whip, to punish me for presuming to suggest a parole."
"You spoke in open time, which is now over. Right now I have an urgent need to fuck my PA. If you haven’t forgotten how to milk the cow, then get busy."
Attacked on two fronts, Georgina had no time to mull over the conversation. Later she would be proud of Amy for facing up to a difficult situation. She wondered if she would have the guts to sentence herself to a lifetime of frustration in order to please her Master. She decided she had been through worse.
When morning came, Amy was feeling the first pangs of frustration. She of course had suffered it during her sentence, but this new form traced directly to having her nose literally rubbed into the goings on in Glen’s bed.
Glen had gone to sleep, still inside Georgina. He hadn’t said a word about Amy’s request for parole. In his mind he already had accepted it, but he worried about some loose ends that ultimately would have to be solved. Amy lay awake repeating over and over the words she had said to Glen, worrying over each word, each sentence, certain she had failed and would be punished by one of the Mistresses.
At work she steeled herself for angry words from the other Mistresses, but they were all normal, doing what they normally did or said. Despite her careful listening, there was no hint that they were aware of her plea to Glen. The only one who knew was Georgina. As they drank their coffee, he told Georgina that he had made up his mind and that he wanted to meet with the Mistresses after dinner, including Amy. He left her in the dark as to which way he was going, but she was used to that.
Glen opened the meeting in his usual blunt fashion. "Amy tells me that you think I should put her on parole. Is that correct?"
There was a chorus of "Yes, Master’s."
"Isn’t that a bit presumptive, since making decisions is the Master’s prerogative?"
More "Yes Master’s"
"Fortunately for you, Amy is a pretty good talker, good enough to stop me just as I was getting ready to prong my PA. She told me your ideas, but she embellished them with some ideas of her own that may come as a surprise."
"I have agreed to parole her. I have also agreed to take over her personal discipline, just as Dr. Steve did with Penny. Selene can explain that reference to you. I agree, the situations are much the same. A while back they were completely different and this suggestion would not have worked. In the meantime, Amy has become a slave and has volunteered - just as Penny did - to be personally punished by her Master. You no doubt will, from time to time, see her with unexplained welts and other marks that you can credit to that personal attention. If she is asked, she will be required to state exactly why I punished her and how I punished her. I expect all of you to ask."
Amy was blushing furiously as Glen added, "And, while you’re asking, be sure and inquire when she last came. Her answer should be interesting.
"Asking for something is usually a trade off. I MIGHT have approved this parole without further ado, but Amy had a unique offer that I couldn’t refuse. She suggested and agreed that she would be punished by serving nightly in my bed. Serving, in this case doesn’t mean lying there and getting screwed. It means watching Georgina and I, playing with Georgina’s nipples and then cleaning both of us up after we’re finished. Amy feels that she deserves to be punished for her past bad acts and bad attitude. She knows she is going to be humiliated every night, but she wants it, because she wants to be my perfect slave. Actually she has already been serving us for several nights.
"She does not want Georgina’s job. She calls her Mistress and intends to continue calling her that through her sentence and beyond. She will continue to call you Mistress as well.
"If this sounds like ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire,’ I don’t think so. If I made her do these things, I’d be the worst bastard in nine counties. She volunteered, willingly. I can’t fault that, but I can question her sanity. Frankly, I wouldn’t know what to do with a perfect slave. Nobody to beat on. Nobody to chew on. Hopefully this perfect slave of mine screws up at least once in awhile so I can see if I still remember how to handle a whip."
Glen looked around the room. "Just remember, if she is to be punished, I’ll do it. I do love her, but she won’t get any love taps from me."
He paused. "Any questions?"
"Is Amy still under orgasm restrictions?"
Glen smiled. "Amy tell your Mistresses what your status is, and why."
"Mistresses, I am on permanent orgasm restrictions. I am under orders not to get aroused for any reason, including punishment or torture. When it pleases Master, I am allowed to beg to come, and permitted one orgasm, with the understanding that I will be punished for begging. As Master pointed out, I volunteered to accept this and other punishment, so my Master is not being cruel to me."
Selene spoke up. "Master, may I ask the slave a question?"
"Of course."
"Amy, why? You would have been done in three months and free as a bird. Why?"
"It’s very simple. I love my Master. I am happy only when I’m serving him. I hurt him deeply with my rebellion and I am more than happy to spend the rest of my life making up for the trouble I’ve caused him. I’ve been cruel to him, not the other way around. To make up for it, I’m being cruel to myself in atonement."
As women, the Mistresses could picture exactly what she would be going through. It was anything but a pleasant picture and it caused some soul searching about their own loyalty to Master. It would be a heavily debated topic for months to come.
Selene was satisfied with the answer. She had drawn out Amy’s love for Master and her explanation rang true. Master would have plenty to think about. She noted too that Amy never once mentioned her marriage. Selene was convinced that Amy had in fact grown up.
Amy was barely beginning to realize the whirlwind she had started. She could tell from Glen’s tone that he wasn’t quite 100 percent in agreement with what she had proposed. Having to explain her punishments was a twist that he had added after the fact. She wondered what other surprises awaited her. She went to Georgina for help. Kneeling before her, she asked, "Mistress, did I do it wrong?"
Georgina stooped down and took her in her arms.
"No, Amy. You’re dealing with a man. You have me and the other Mistresses convinced. Your Master will fume and fuss for a time but eventually he will accept your loving gift. But, you’d better watch out, because he may well go overboard making sure that you are punished to his standards."
"He said I’m crazy."
"Amy, he didn’t say that. He said he doubted your sanity, which is a whole different thing, entirely. Ask your Mistresses and I’ll bet they agree with him on that point. You taught me and the other Mistresses a lesson in loyalty, and your standard may well be higher than theirs. I’ve been through the mill and I understand your loyalty and I would match it with my own, even if none of the rest can."
"You mean you would do the same? Kneel on the bed, watching him fuck someone else. Clean up after them?"
"In the time it would take to release me from the bed and put on your ankle shackle. You see, I love Master, too. Just like you, I would put my life on the line if he merely asked. I know exactly where you are coming from, a loyalty that’s impossible to find anymore. You and I could have shared him - and frankly I thought that was what you were going to propose. You have the better plan. Sharing would be a constant invitation to jealousy. Servitude denies you the luxury of jealousy."
"That was what I thought. I could share him with you, as you say, but I would be in a constant struggle to control my jealousy, wasting precious time that I could use to please Master."
Amy suddenly realized what she had said. "Oh, Mistress, I’m so sorry. I kept repeating ‘Master,’ without including you. I want to serve you, just as I serve him. You deserve to be rewarded for your service to him and for the worry about your job that I have unwittingly caused. My willing servitude includes you, as long as you will have me. As a slave I need to say, ‘If it pleases you, Mistress,’ and I mean every word of it."
"I never thought I’d ever hear those words from your lips. You have changed, thankfully for the better. I don’t need to warn you that you will have a hard life serving us. There will be more than enough humiliation and embarrassment to fill your plate every day. I know you well enough to know that you have considered and accepted the effect they will have on you. The other Mistresses never accepted you because you flaunted your marriage. Now they have made you part of the group. If the burden you have strapped to your back becomes too heavy, they will be there to help you through the hardship."
" Thank you, Miss... Oh! Shit! I’ve been talking to you for all this time and using the wrong title. Please forgive me, First Mistress."
"You are forgiven. Just don’t do it around Master. You don’t want to destroy your image as a perfect slave."
Georgina smiled and hugged her again.
"Thank you, First Mistress."
Glen smiled and turned away from the screen.
That night, Glen proposed the very switch that Georgina and Amy had discussed. "I think our little slave should be rewarded for her heroism. Why don’t you and Amy trade places."
Georgina immediately obeyed, starting to unlock her shackles.
"Master, No!"
Both stared at her like she had just slugged them. Georgina froze, one hand in mid air.
"Slave," growled Glen, "You are on very thin ice."
"Master, I know that and I will accept any punishment you deem suitable. A slave does not refuse a Master’s order. But, you are taking a privilege away from First Mistress and giving it to me. Not only do I not deserve it, but she doesn’t deserve to have it taken away from her. I am the one being punished here, not First Mistress."
Glen shook his head. "Did you by any chance go to law school?"
He knew she hadn’t but he needed time to think. There was no question that she was right, but she had refused an order.
After she answered, he admitted she was right. "Stated that way, Amy is correct. The switch is cancelled. However, Amy refused a direct order. Your punishment will be a week of arousal without permission to come."
Georgina shook her head in amazement, re-fastened her shackle and wriggled into position against Glen, feeling his pressure to enter her. She moved, in anticipation of his long, slow strokes. For the first time she felt sorry for Amy, knowing full well what constant arousal without release would do to her.
She picked up where she had left off her story, despite not doing it the night before:
"I can’t repeat enough, as a lesson for Amy, he treated me far worse after we were married, My whole front from my tits down had rug burns from dragging on the floor as I crawled everywhere. Even if I only had to go three feet, I had to get on my belly. When I got too good at crawling, he locked me in a leg spreader. It was too wide to go through a door, so I had to ask for ten in order to get help. Harry was an expert at backhanding me so that the whip bisected my furrow and snapped on my clit. By the time I had gone through three doors I was a wreck, but then I had to turn around and go back.
"After months of belly crawling, he promoted me to walking. Duck walking. My ankles were chained to my belt - and each other - so that I had to squat to walk, and then only a couple of inches to a step. This opened up a whole new world of whipping possibilities and he exploited every single one of them.
"I lived in cages for over a year. All of them were too small, too narrow, too short, or too claustrophobic. One of his favorites was one shaped like a chair. He made me sit down, then closed the front over me. The entire chair was lined with spikes - even the arm rests. The spikes didn’t break the skin, but I had a bruise to match every one of them. After being in it for several hours he would come with one of those Sterno stoves and light it and put it under the seat. It took a while to heat the heavy steel seat, but once it got hot I had to lift my body off the seat and use my arms to hold me up.
"Harry would stand there and watch me struggle. Once I lifted up, he set a time limit and I had to wait to be let out. It was always more than my arms could stand - I couldn’t use my feet - so I’d have burns on my ass from the hot spikes.
"When I wasn’t in one of the cages he usually made me wear a heavy steel branks. It forced me to remain silent as the tongue piece was full of sharp edges. He would lock it to a stand so that I had to bend both knees. It’s impossible to stand for more than a few minutes like that, especially when you are wearing 30 or 40 pounds of chain and that branks, which probably weighed another 20 pounds. He’d leave me in it until my legs collapsed then whip me for failing to stand.
"Harry got me a neck corset - a thing that wrapped around my neck and extended up over my upper lip and down to my breasts. It laced up the back and he did everything but put his foot on my neck to help him tighten it. He expected it to go on tighter every time I wore it, and since it didn’t, I got the blame and the punishment. The only saving grace was the channel down the front that kept it from choking off my wind pipe.
"I never did find out where he found the big U-bolts that he used to torture me. It didn’t make any difference where they came from but I spent a lot of time cursing the SOB’s that sold them to Harry. He took two of them and put them around the base of my breasts, with a steel strap across. Then he would tighten them up until my tits turned blue. I had to beg him to tighten them up a quarter turn. He would tighten them with a big wrench, then invite me to think up some torture to get him to back them off the quarter turn. If he didn’t like what I suggested he would tighten them another quarter turn.
"He had me at a disadvantage, because I had never even seen a picture of bondage, while he had years of experience and knew all the equipment and what part of the female body it would hurt the most. That meant that my pitiful suggestions either got laughed off, or he would do them, hurt me, then punish me for suggesting such a poor choice. Lots of times he would demand a suggestion, then counter with his own choice, which was always far more painful, earning me some additional punishment as well.
"Selene talked about the pain boxes she used in Dr. Steve’s dungeon. For Harry, what she described was just the beginning. He fixed a pair of dildos on the base. Not the usual large and small. Both were the same size. He modified them by applying paint and then sprinkling abrasive granules on the wet paint. He lived to frighten me, so the first time he used the box he showed me a dildo with quarter-inch chunks sticking out all the way around. I tried to crawl out of my skin and the chains holding me, but it just got me another bout with his whip.
"Then he lined the box with coarse emery paper. He used it on the outside, where my chin rested on the top and along the sides of the posts where my thighs and ankles rubbed. There was a studded bar that pushed my breasts back and a few inches below it a bar that pushed my back forward. By the fifth minute I was begging. By the half hour I was incoherent but that bastard made me sit in that box for a full hour, then took his damn sweet time releasing me to collect my whipping for begging.
"In my agony early on, I suggested he beat my feet as a penalty to get me out of the box. That was one of the few that he took seriously. Since when I was sitting in the box my feet were right next to my ears, I got both the pain and the noise. After he welted my feet I had to duck walk the length of the basement and back, not much fun on the rough concrete. My feet are still tender, even though that was years ago.
"His idea of fun was to do something to make me scream. I told you that he would make me yell one day and not allow a sound the next. He found one of those U-bolts that fit around my head. He fixed a baseball size rubber ball on a crosspiece and tuned the nuts to force the ball into my mouth. I thought my front teeth were going to break off at the gum line, but that’s a story for another time. When the ball finally slipped past my teeth I couldn’t begin to move my jaw. Just like with my tits, he kept tightening, forcing the ball farther and farther back in my mouth, threatening to cut off my air. All the time I was screaming like a banshee through my nose. I was drooling a river and of course got slapped for making a mess.
"Harry had long since found out I was claustrophobic and I spent a lot of time chained until I couldn’t wiggle and then dumped in a small closet. That played right into his love of hearing me scream, because I was a basket case before he would drag me out. He had a very tiny cage, just big enough for a small dog, that he would cram or pry me into. He’d put me in the closet, then offer to take me out if I would spend an hour in the cage. If I didn’t answer instantly, I stayed my full time in the closet and then went straight to the cage for double time. Needless to say I learned to be a contortionist.
"The bad part was that he was making me like it. After awhile I realized that I was getting a rush from his whip. Then other pain started to turn me on and after a couple of years I found I was addicted to pain. The really bad part was that he flat refused to ever let me have an orgasm. He told me many times that women didn’t need to have orgasms. I spent almost 20 years getting high every day on pain, then being denied any relief. That alone was a worse torture than some of the nasty things he was doing to me.
"He built a walker for me. Not the medical kind, but a demonized version. It was square pyramid, rising from a base to a flat plate with a hole for the ‘patient’s’ neck. Harry actually made several versions, but I hated all of them. One had small wheels, but they caught and nearly caused me to fall, which would have broken my neck, to put me out of my misery. With larger wheels I could walk fairly easily from one end to the other. Too easily. He took the wheels off and mounted skids, so I had to work hard to even move it, let alone go back and forth. It was built so that he could get at me with his whip and he never wasted an opportunity.
"I’m sure you’re wondering what my family thought about all this. If they had known what I was going through, they would have called the cops immediately. Harry was too smart for that. He made me write a series of letters, explaining that I had run away to get married and that we were living at the far end of the country, out in the desert where there was no phone service. My parents must have bought it, because there never was any search for me. Both of them were dead by the time I was released. In Harry’s papers there were unopened letters addressed to me that he had never given me.
"Going back to claustrophobia, Harry came up with the ultimate weapon to use against those of us with the phobia. It was a head box, which you no doubt have seen pictured or offered for sale in the Internet. God forbid that you ever allow your head inside one, whether you are phobic or not. It’s a box, somewhat larger than your head, which opens into two halves. Each half is lined with dense black foam. Why black, I don’t know, but I suspect it has the same fear effect on others that it has on me. I think Selene mentioned that her attacker used one on her.
"Carved into the foam is the outline of a head. A doll head would just about fit. When your head goes in and the two halves are closed your head presses against the foam to open the hole to accommodate you. Your jaw is jammed tight and your immediate concern is breathing, again something Harry thought was something women didn’t need to do.
"There was an air passage, however, it did not go straight from the nose to the outside air. Rather, it went around the cheeks, up the back of the head and out at a back corner. The compression of the foam half closed the air passage and the foam seemed to suck air out of the passage, so the occupant is immediately pulling for air. Your cries for help and pleas for air die a half inch from your lips in the dense dark foam."
Glen decided that this was a good time to stop talking and get some action. He pulled back and shoved forward, instantly switching Georgina from talking mode to fuck mode.
She turned her head toward Glen. "Master, what’s the reference to ‘milking the cow?’ I assume it has something to do with my nipples, which are always sore after a night in your bed."
Glen laughed as he started moving slowly. "It’s a joke from way back when I started playing with Amy’s nipples and jokingly told her I was milking the cow."
"Go easy, Amy. I’m still sore."
"You should be First Mistress. You were having a multiple.
Amy knelt before Selene in her office. "Mistress, if it pleases you, I would like to combine all the classes today for the lesson I have in mind."
"This wouldn’t have anything to do with a punishment that your Master imposed?"
Amy held her head high. "Yes, Mistress. I feel it would be a valuable lesson for any slave."
"Humiliating and embarrassing. I believe that was the description."
"Yes, Mistress. I deserve this punishment."
"So, are you going to crawl from guard to guard, begging ‘beat me!’"
"No, Mistress. Master has reserved my discipline to himself, as he told you. I do plan on using the guards for today’s lesson, but not to beat me."
"Permission granted. Also, because of the possible danger, you are assigned two guards as bodyguards. You may use them for class purposes as you see fit."
"Thank you, Mistress."
Promptly on the hour the entire group of slaves filed into Amy’s classroom. Each slave was cuffed and hobbled as a precaution. They found a numbered desk and stood waiting. Amy was seated with a towel over her legs. When all the slaves were in place she stood up and dropped the towel. It had been hiding a vibrator which was taped to her leg, with the bulbous head pressing directly on her clit. Nobody made a sound, so the faint whine of the vibrator was easy to hear. Appearing to ignore it, she moved to the podium, stopped and looked around. Four guards were lined up at the rear, ready to pounce if there was the slightest disturbance.
Amy raised her leg, showing the vibrator. "How many of you have been given an orgasm with a vibrator?"
All but two hands went up. Amy pointed to them. "Have you ever had an orgasm?"
Both shook their heads and responded. Amy made a wry face. "Have you tried?"
There was the slightest hesitation before the two red-faced slaves admitted they had.
"Sooner or later you will serve a Master who will control your orgasms. If you are frigid you can expect special training because control is vital to the Master. Some will refuse permission for days, weeks or even months. I know of one case where a slave went for 20 years, without an orgasm. It is one of the most potent tools that Masters and Mistresses have to control you, so learn how to cope with it, rather than trying to escape or evade orders.
"Other Masters will train you to climax on command, perhaps even compete with other slaves to see which one can come the most times in a race. If you are serving a Mistress the possibilities will run the same gamut with a few extra twists thrown in. If you are a lesbian to start with, you probably will have an easier time with a Mistress, but your life may well become a hell on earth if you serve a Master. My job is to teach you to be bisexual, so that you can willingly serve either a Master or a Mistress, regardless of which way you lean.
"What I teach you today is a general view of what you might expect. Individual Masters and Mistresses may have views directly opposite to my teaching. Expect that and be flexible and willing to adapt to any possible situation."
Amy looked around the room again. Selene and Sarah had joined the guards at the back and the teachers were grouped behind them. She was certain that Glen would be watching on his monitor. She remembered his words about "thin ice," but forged ahead anyway.
"The key word is willing. I’m going to demonstrate that, with an incident that occurred last night. It started when I refused a direct order from Master."
That got everyone’s attention. Sarah’s mouth dropped open and Selene blinked, unsure whether to believe her ears.
"Without boring you with a lengthy story, I was already being punished for some incidents in my past. Master wished to reward me for my heroics - as he put it - so he ordered his Personal Assistant to trade places with me on the bed. My job was to watch, assist where needed, and clean them both up afterward. His PA accepted the order - WILLINGLY - but I said ‘No.’ I argued with Master, again a violation, saying that I was the one being punished, not his PA and she rightfully deserved the privilege while I did not.
"Master said I was right and cancelled the order. However, since I refused an order, I merited punishment, which I acknowledged."
Amy raised her head, looking into the eyes of her audience.
"Master has a unique power over me. You will no doubt think I’m making this up to prove my point, but Master can control my mind with an order. He first discovered it by accident when he was punishing me. I am a pain slut, with all that the term denotes. He told me that I was not to get any enjoyment out of my punishment, or get aroused. It scared the shit out of me, because I endured pain and suffering and never felt a thing. My mind went totally blank. I could not, for the life of me, create a mental picture of any kind, let alone the sexual fantasies that I used to arouse myself.
"As you can imagine, I am in awe of his power. You will encounter Masters and Mistresses that control you with other forms of power, so always be prepared to obey any orders they may give you, regardless of what you think about the order. This is a case of ‘Don’t do as I do, but do as I say.’"
She held up the leg with the still buzzing vibrator.
"I’m sure you are all familiar with this particular vibrator. It plugs into a 110 volt circuit and delivers industrial strength vibrations. I doubt if any of you - or any of the guests we have today - have managed to survive more than five minutes of its insidious strength without coming."
She raised the leg again.
"I turned this on over an hour ago - full speed."
She looked for a black collar.
"Twenty, come up here."
She pointed to the vibrator. "Please confirm that it is set at its highest level, and is actually working."
Twenty peered at the switch and nodded. She placed her hand on the head of the vibrator, feeling the oscillations that were pounding hard on Amy’s clit, and nodded again. "Everything is as you said, Mistress."
"Check to see if I am aroused."
Twenty looked into Amy’s eyes, not sure she heard right. She saw the resolve and followed the order. Hesitantly, then more firmly she palmed Amy’s breasts, testing the nipples with her fingertips. Amy remained calm but Twenty turned red as an apple. Used to doing things like this under the cover of darkness, or at worst in privacy, having to feel up another girl in public was a distinct trial for the slave. She looked to Amy again for reassurance. Amy could have disciplined her for hesitating to obey a Mistresses’ order, but she nodded approval and Twenty’s hand dropped to the vibrator again.
She pushed it out of the way and slipped a finger into Amy’s slit. She followed it with a second, a third and a forth, buried to the knuckles. She drew the hand out and pushed it forward toward the audience. Even in the back of the room they could see the lubricant dripping from her fingertips.
"Twenty, would you say I am aroused?"
"Yes, Mistress, VERY aroused."
"Would you say that I have climaxed in the past hour?"
Twenty looked for the telltale signs, the mottled skin, but Amy’s skin was a healthy pink.
"No, Mistress. Besides, you would be unable to endure the vibrator after an orgasm without being heavily restrained."
She looked down at her ankles and then the wrists that Amy displayed for her. "There are no signs of any restraint."
"Thank you, Twenty. You may go back to your desk."
Turning back to her audience, Amy again swept the room with her eyes.
"By now some of you probably think that I am performing magic tricks. I assure you, I am not. What you see is part of a rather unique punishment imposed by Master for refusing an order and arguing.
"He imposed a week of arousal, forbidding me to come, an order he can accomplish merely by telling me what my body - and my mind - can or cannot do. It was his way of saying that I would be aroused day and night for seven days and that nothing I did - like this vibrator - would bring me off.
"I willingly accepted punishment, before he imposed it, because I knew I had broken the rules. What you see is a penalty imposed in addition to a longstanding punishment for other rules I broke. Part of this new punishment is to suffer the humiliation of having to publically describe my mistakes, my errors in judgement, and yes, my slave crimes, and explain in detail the punishment I am receiving. Since it is a valuable lesson for you trainees, I asked that the classes be combined to hear my admission of guilt.
"I mentioned humiliation. Be prepared. It will play a big role in your life as a slave. If you fight it, deny it, you are headed for trouble. My Master is an expert at humiliating his slaves when they need discipline. In my case, he began my week of arousal using his fingers to arouse me. Not his cock, not his tongue, but his fingers. What can be more humiliating than that?
"I will tell you that I masturbated all night at his direction, in the vain hope that there might be a gap in his control over me. I knew that I might be punished anew when I confess to him tonight.
"I also knew, as I taped this vibrator to my clit, that I might just as well have taped a block of wood there. Its sole purpose it to drive my point home - You must learn to cope with anything your Master or Mistress does to you.
"You also must learn to accept discipline willingly. If Master whips you, learn to accept it, learn to enjoy the pain. If he, or she, embarrasses you or shames you or humiliates you, it’s all part of the Master-slave relationship that you MUST learn to live with.
"Before I go to the next part of today’s lesson, I want to fully inform you on another topic. As most of you know, Mistress Sarah and I were attacked by a slave. There were four other slaves present. Not one of them came to our assistance. We didn’t ask for their help, but they should have volunteered and stepped in to assist us. The slave was intent on killing one or both of us with a steel restraint as a weapon, which made it doubly important that we be helped.
"The four slaves got five demerits each, which in this case was a relatively mild punishment although they may not think so by the time they work the demerits off. I’m sure they won’t make the same mistake again, and I want to stress to you, as I did to them, that loyalty to your - or any - Master or Mistress is the most important thing a slave can give. Hopefully none of you will ever be witness to a situation like what we faced, but be ready to put yourself on the line if the time comes."
She looked at the slaves. "I want the four slaves who didn’t help us, to raise their hands."
Red faced, four slaves pushed their shackled wrists into the air.
"There, you can see how easy it is to humiliate a slave. Be thankful that we haven’t punished all of you for their fault. It could easily happen to you, so make sure any slave you work alongside is as willing as you are and as loyal.
"Now we are going to change topics. All of you have been trained in pleasuring and satisfying a female. We’re going to teach you all we can about pleasuring and satisfying a male. Notice I did not specify a Master or a Mistress. There is a very good reason for that. Your first priority is their satisfaction. That you should have learned already, even if you don’t know how to do it. But, somewhere along the line, sooner or later, you will be ordered to service a man or woman who is not your Master or your Mistress. It may be another Master or Mistress, or it may not. Whatever their status, you don’t quibble. You serve.
"If you don’t, or don’t perform up to expectations, you are embarrassing your Master or Mistress. You NEVER want to do that. Shaming them by showing poor training is guaranteed to be bad for your health. I’ve been down that road, and bitterly regretted it. You will too, so learn, learn, learn and do your very best, regardless of whatever situation you find yourself in. There’s nothing that will bring their full wrath down on you than reflecting poorly on your Master or Mistress. Act like a spoiled child and you will reap the whirlwind.
"For the rest of this class and future classes, we’re going to dispense with saying ‘Masters and Mistresses.’ When I say ‘Master’ it automatically includes Mistresses.
"How many of you have never had a man’s prick in your mouth?"
Only one pair of hands went up.
"You are?"
"Number Seventeen, Mistress."
"Seventeen, come up here, with me. Stand next to the edge."
She looked at the back of the room. Two more guards had joined the four already there, and as Amy looked, two more walked in.
"May I have eight volunteers please, from the guard detail."
The men looked at each other, grinned and moved forward to join the two girls on the platform. All eight were wearing the standard uniform, shorts and a white T-shirt with "Guard" stenciled on it.
"Thank you, gentlemen, for volunteering. We need to show our audience some typical male bodies. Please strip off your uniforms."
All eight immediately took off their clothes. A couple were half hard, but the others, perhaps jaded by the constant array of nude bodies around them, were flaccid.
"Seventeen, I take it this is the first time you’ve seen a nude male?"
By this time her flush had reached her knees. Embarrassed beyond words she barely whispered, "Yes, Mistress."
"I’d like our audience to hear your responses. Much louder."
"YES MISTRESS!"
"Yes, what?"
"YES, MISTRESS, THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I’VE SEEN A MALE COCK."
"That’s better, but that was not what I asked. Since you at least know the term, I’ll excuse you. Do you feel humiliated, embarrassed, ashamed?
"YES, MISTRESS, I FEEL ASHAMED, EMBARRASSED AND HUMILIATED."
Amy smiled. "You can stop yelling, as long as those in the back can hear you." She smiled again. "Wait until you see what I have in store for you."
Seventeen looked like she wanted to run and hide, but she stood her ground.
Amy took her by the hand and led her to the guard at the end of the line.
"Do you like what you see?
"Yes, Mistress."
"Is he ready?"
Seventeen squirmed, her fingers convulsively tightening on Amy’s hand.
"No... NO, Mistress."
"I won’t embarrass you by asking how you know that, but what do you propose to do to get him ready?"
"Use... Use my hand, Mistress?"
"That’s part of it. What else?"
Seventeen groaned and tried to hid her flaming face in her shoulder.
"You get two demerits if I have to repeat a question."
"Mistress! ... My... My mouth?"
Seventeen looked like she would burn up at any moment. Two Mistresses guarded the door. She could not escape.
"Your hand, and your mouth. You mentioned both with a question in your voice. To answer your question, Yes, with your hand and Yes, with your mouth."
She pointed to his organ, which was showing signs of life.
"Kneel, and touch him."
The guard was watching Seventeen with sudden interest. He was mesmerized by the firmness and slight wobble of the slave’s breasts. By the time she reached her knees in front of him he had reached half mast and his cock was pointing straight at her mouth. "Touch him" echoed in her mind blocked by a prim and prissy mother who had raised her daughter to be a chaste saint. She could not refuse an order. Just a few minutes before she had listened aghast to Amy’s admission of refusing an order. She was a teacher. What would happen to a hapless slave who refused?
She reached out very tentative hands, wishing fervently that she wasn’t cuffed. Her fingers touched the soft skin, just as nature lurched her target an inch higher. She screamed in fright, jerking her hands back in a clash of chain. The audience roared with laughter and Seventeen’s face took on a purple hue. Grimly determined, she reached again, this time getting a two fisted grip that booked no surprises. The guard barely stifled a groan as he felt her grip tighten at the same time that his tool was expanding.
Unbidden she slid her hands up and down his length, completing the job of getting him fully hard, pointing at the sky when she released it.
Amy pointed to the slit in the tip. Seventeen could see liquid there. For a horrible second she though he was getting ready to piss on her, but the guard couldn’t have accomplished that if he was standing on his head. Amy made a rubbing motion with her hands and Seventeen nodded.
She rubbed a finger in the juice and then rubbed it down the length of the guard’s cock. Hands on again, she found they slid up and down much easier.
Amy nodded to the guard. He reached out and grasped Seventeen’s head. She struggled against his hold, but calmed immediately, realizing both that he was much too strong for her, and that he undoubtedly was following some unspoken order from her Mistress.
He drew her head forward, almost hitting her in the eye. With one hand he aimed it for her mouth and moved a short step forward, pressing it into her mouth. He held her there, on command, with just the head past her teeth.
"Taste the liquid - the pre-come."
Seventeen moved her tongue, blindly searching for the slit. She swirled across it, for the first time tasting a man.
"Lick, and kiss the head."
She twisted her head sideways, looking at the next guard, refreshing her brief memory of male anatomy. She identified the head as the bulb in her mouth. She started to lick, then realized that it was too far in, so she pulled her head back against the willing hands. She looked down her nose as it emerged, mentally comparing it with the next man.
"Like a lollipop."
That she could understand. She licked, alternated with gentle kisses, again holding him in both hands. It came over her that she was performing a lewd act in public, before dozens of watching eyes. She could feel her skin changing color, at least in her mind. She decided that purple went with her eyes.
"Look up at him. Get his permission to go further."
She obeyed, continuing to lave the head with her tongue, her hands squeezing and pulling his staff. Her pupils nearly disappeared under her upper eyelids. He looked down at her, seeing her through a haze of lust. He too was aware of the avidly watching audience, the thought sucking his ball sack into a tight noose. Holding her head, he leaned forward, into her.
"Audience, notice that he did not give her a verbal command. Instead he moved closer, allowing him to go further into her mouth."
Seventeen could taste his maleness, the pre-come still on her tongue, unaware that she would shortly get a real taste. The guard, aware of her inexperience, was gentle with her. He timed his movements so that she never felt pushed, or hurried. It worked for his benefit as well, as she was able to concentrate on what she was doing, rather than fighting him.
"This is what is known as giving head," said Amy, "because the head of his cock gets the most attention. It is also called a ‘blow job,’ although there is more sucking than blowing. A slave that can give an expert blow job is highly prized by most masters. There’s another stage that we’ll get to in a bit."
The guard was slowly working farther and farther into the girl’s mouth. She was responding by tightening her lips around him and removing one hand to allow more to go into her mouth. She continued to watch him, learning from his nods or frowns. She felt a tinge of panic when a slightly deeper thrust pushed the head into the upper constriction of her throat. She started to gag and he pulled all the way out quickly, allowing her to cough and breathe. When she recovered he started again.
Seventeen was getting the hang of it quickly. She deliberately moved forward, feeling his head plug her throat. She stayed like that for several seconds, then marked his cock with her finger to see how much she had taken. She could barely cover the staff with her other hand and the head stuck out beyond that. She looked up at him again, a plea in her eyes. He read her correctly and nodded. She slid onto him, down, her lips an inch away from his ball sack. She could feel his head going deeper into her throat, perhaps a quarter inch before she gagged. She drew back, stopped the gagging and pushed in again, gaining another quarter inch, but that was too much for the guard. He blew one jet after another down her throat, and as she withdrew, a dollar size gob on her tongue.
"Swallow!" ordered Amy, emphatically. Seventeen was already prepared to spit her mouthful, but she obeyed, leaving a salty taste in her mouth.
"Clean him up!"
Seventeen knew just enough to start lapping, first licking his balls, then moving up his still hard staff, getting every trace of his spend, right up to the tip. He jerked when her tongue invaded his slit, gathering the last trace of moisture.
Amy turned to the audience. "You’ve just watched a neophyte learn how to suck cock. You heard my orders and commentary. Those of you who are experienced know the rules and know how their Master interprets them, so you don’t need verbal orders. Some Masters may order you anyway, just for their own satisfaction. One thing I might add is that most Master’s expect you to get his tool out of his pants and put it back in after you’ve finished."
Seventeen was still on her knees, still admiring her first cock, infatuated with the sight, the smell and the taste of a man. She gave all the signs of quickly becoming an expert.
Amy gave her the proper credit. "That’s one of the best examples of a novice giving head that I’ve seen. Let’s give her a hand."
The clapping was enthusiastic, but the slaves were eyeing the other seven men, most of whom had come to full attention watching Seventeen.
"Are there any deep throaters in the crowd?"
Three sets of hands went up. There was a chuckle at the back as one of the teachers started to raise her hand, then quickly dropped it, remembering where she was.
Thirteen, Fourteen and Fifteen came up on the platform. Amy assigned them to the next three guards.
"This is not going to be a contest. For those of you who don’t know, deep throating means to actually get the head of a cock into your throat, past your gag point. Seventeen almost made it on her first try. You three are assumed to be able to complete the act. How about you guards? Have you been deep throated before?"
All three nodded. "Yes, Mistress."
The action started much the same as Seventeen’s demonstration, with a round of kissing and licking the head. Fifteen got impatient and tried to push him into her throat, but the guard and Amy both chewed her out and sent her back to kissing and licking the head.
Seventeen watched with considerable interest. Amy had invited her to remain on the platform to watch and learn. This was a potential star pupil, who as far as Amy was concerned, could quickly advance out of the training and into a job as a teacher. She handled being exposed and trained before a crowd extremely well, other than turning purple. If she could talk, and teach what she had learned, she would be a prize.
After the initial licking, the guards began to press slowly. The girl’s mouths sank further and further until all external signs of a cock had disappeared. Internally was another matter. In all three cases, as Amy pointed out to Seventeen, the cock head was visible as a distinct bulge in the slave’s throat.
"At this point," said Amy, "Some Masters like you to hum. It’s like having a vibrator down your throat and most males will last only a few seconds. For others, all you need to do is swallow. This constricts the throat and tightens it up on the cock with predictable results.
"One tip. Some Master’s consider their seed as sacred, and woe betide the slave who lets some leak out of her mouth, or who tries to spit it out. If you just plain hate the taste, an excellent solution is to learn to deep throat, because all of it goes straight down the tube, and you won’t taste a thing."
The three guards all shot their loads down their respective slave’s throats. They expressed their gratitude and the audience applauded, although more muted than Seventeen’s
"This doesn’t just apply to blow jobs, but some Masters enjoy giving their slaves a jism bath. They will pull out and spray your face and breasts rather than have you swallow it. Where there is more than one slave, as in the situation I was involved in, you will be expected to clean up the other slave, but don’t get ideas, unless your Master orders it, to carry the cleaning over the line. Masters may demand that you do a show for them with another, or other slaves. Just don’t initiate anything like that without specific permission or orders.
"One other point. Hold your breath if you are sprayed. If you get come up your nose you will be a sick puppy, so exhale, rather than inhale, especially if you are gagged. If he is determined to shoot up your nose, promise him anything short of suicide to get him to stop."
There were still four guards and four stiff rods.
"One, Two, Three and Four, come up here."
Amy announced, "This IS a contest. These guys are hot to trot. You slaves are in a hurry to get this over and get back to normal. So, the winner is going to be the slave whose man spurts LAST! The rules are simple - You must maintain mouth contact with your cock. If you are off of it for more than two seconds at a time, you lose. There are dire consequences for the losers, and I do mean dire. Leakage or failure to swallow will put you with the losers. Let’s blindfold you and get ready."
"Go!"
Urged on by the other slaves, the four kneeling slaves searched for a head to lick. Finding it, they began to delicately hold it, rather than slurp it down. As might be expected the feather touch was more than enough incentive to fire a full burst into the waiting mouth. Two of the four lasted only two or three strokes. The third got a blast that was too big to hold and allowed it to leak from both sides of her mouth.
The fourth stood rock hard for a full minute longer and Four succeeded in holding and swallowing everything, so she was declared the winner. Amy announced the results, then turned to the three losers.
"You three are assigned to the guard’s dining room for the evening meal. Each of you will be responsible for satisfying all the men sitting at your table. The guards will vote after the meal and the slave with the poorest count gets ten on the ass. The other two will get five, just to remind you never to lose.
"For the rest, I’m sorry I didn’t have enough men to go around. This was a special occasion and otherwise the guards are forbidden to have any form of sex with you. This was a special treat for them and I expect you to also consider it as a special treat.
"What you have just watched no doubt came as a surprise to some of you. As you gain experience as a slave, you will realize that events like this can involve you on a moment’s notice. A Master’s whim is a powerful force to be reckoned with. You have to be ready instantly for the unusual to happen. What if - right now - I ordered you to pair up and do a 69 with your partner. Would you be ready? Would you hesitate? Would you argue with your Mistress? Would you refuse her order?
"I think not, but I hope sincerely - for the benefit of your hide - that you take today’s lesson to heart and do what you are supposed to do, not what you want to do. I did what I wanted, and I will suffer for it - willingly - for a long time to come. Sooner or later we’ll find out whether you have the guts to obey without hesitation, without reservation.
"And, finally, learn to be loyal. Above all, be loyal to your Master. Loyalty doesn’t just mean laying your life on the line. It means things like going to your Master and admitting jealousy or hatred or some other forbidden emotion and begging punishment and aid in getting back on track. Loyalty can’t be bought. It has to come from your heart."
"Class dismissed."
The slaves filed out while Selene and Sarah waited. The teachers moved into a corner and began talking excitedly. Amy got Seventeen’s name and sent her on her way with a pat on the back.
Selene walked toward her, hand extended. As she came up to Amy, she put her arms around her and patted her back repeatedly. "Excellent, excellent, she whispered in Amy’s ear. Aloud she said, "Congratulations! I said you are our best teacher and watching this class I feel it even more strongly."
At that moment, one of the teachers approached Selene and then walked with her to where the other teachers were waiting. They conversed in low tones, while Sarah also extended her congratulations to Amy. She admitted, "I wouldn’t have the guts to get up and say those things about myself."
Amy smiled. "But, you haven’t done the shitty things I did to Master. You don’t need to get up and apologize for anything you’ve done."
"I know, but you’ve put up an awfully high bar for the rest of us to climb over. I always thought I was loyal, but listening to you gives me a whole new perspective. I learned from your classes and there are one or two things that hit very close to home. Making you a teacher was one of the best moves Selene has made."
"Speaking of Selene, I’m back, and this is Patricia. She has some news for Amy."
"Mistress Amy, I’m the spokeswoman for the teachers. They have just elected you - with Mistress Selene’s permission - as lead teacher!"
"Does that mean I’d be stuck behind a desk? Frankly, that’s not my idea of teaching."
"No, no, Mistress. We all want you to keep teaching. You keep your students paying rapt attention for the entire class. We need to know how to do that and you would be the best teacher. We would need to juggle some class schedules, but all of us want to sit in on as many of your classes as possible."
Amy looked to Selene for guidance. "Mistress, are you cool with this?"
"More than cool. You’re hot! I approved the whole idea. We have talked to some of the slaves in your classes and they give you the highest possible marks. We don’t dare take you off a scheduled class or we’d have a riot on our hands."
Selene pondered for a moment.
"That girl. Seventeen, wasn’t it. You did a classic job teaching her."
"I had help. That girl is smarter than a whip and she caught on faster than any other student. She’s teacher material and I’m planning on accelerating her training and having you give her a job."
"I noticed the same thing. But that’s your responsibility. You get to hire and fire the teachers. They ceded that right back to me, to give to you."
"Then I can have her ready for a brown belt in a week."
"Good! We need her, badly."
Selene’s secretary approached. "Mistress Amy, Master wants you to report to him as soon as you get back to the Executive Wing."
Amy rolled her eyes.
"What have I done now?"
Glen and Georgina were waiting in the living room when Amy knocked on the door. She dropped to her belly and crawled to his feet, first kissing his slippers and then placing one foot on her neck in submission.
"That was quite the stunt you pulled today, bragging about enduring Master’s cruel punishments. I take it that was strictly for my benefit?"
Amy remained silent, completely baffled by this sudden, and to her mind unwarranted attack. She knew she probably deserved it, but she was at a loss as to just why. She knew one thing, she was not about to argue with him and get her arousal extended for months.
"You may speak. Open time."
"Master, did I misunderstand you? I thought I was supposed to admit my faults and explain how I was being punished." Glen laughed. "You were, and I was just pulling your leg a bit. You’ve had everything but the kitchen sink going your way today, so I thought it would be fun to catch you by surprise."
"If I wasn’t so badly in the hole on punishments I’d tell you exactly what you just did to me."
"Go ahead. It’s open time. You’re safe."
"Thanks but I’ll save it for when I’m really pissed at you."
"Maybe you won’t think so badly of your husband when you see what I have for you."
He picked up a box from the coffee table and handed it to her. Amy took it gingerly, as if expecting to suddenly explode in her face. When she got the lid off, her mouth dropped open in shock.
"A Green Belt? For me?"
"Why would I give it to you if it belonged to someone else?"
Lamely she responded, "I... thought you might want me to award it to someone."
"Dufuss! It’s yours!"
"Thank you, Master." Her response was automatic as she frantically tried to remember where a green belt fit into the castle hierarchy.
"But, Master, I thought Green Belts were for the Labor Department slaves. Am I being transferred?"
"No, silly. I revised the belt specs and the Labor slaves get Brown Belts. This is the only Green Belt in the castle. You rate it as the Lead Teacher."
"With all due respect, Master, would I have gotten it if I hadn’t been your wife?"
Glen looked at her, and stared her down. "Yes. You deserve it for the excellent work you are doing as a teacher and now teaching the teachers. Ask me again outside Open Time and your ass will be cherry red for a month."
"Then I will ask it again. I deserve to get my ass whipped for less."
Georgina, who had remained unusually silent, cleared her throat. "Amy, shut up! Now!"
Glen looked at her startled.
"You too, Master. You both got off on the wrong foot and the only way this argument is going to go is that she winds up helpless and along in the dungeon, cussing your name. Now, damn it, kiss and make up. God, the things I put up with for you two."
"Amy, I will personally cut your ass to ribbons if you aren’t in his arms in the next 30 seconds. If he doesn’t accept you, he needs to find a new PA!"
Amy stood up and moved close to Glen, looking back at Georgina as if she expected a whip to suddenly appear in her hand. He hesitated, but he knew when he was losing the battle and opened his arms. She almost jumped the last two feet and his arms closed tightly around her as he kissed her and whispered, "I’m sorry, I love you," in her ear.
She leaned back against his sturdy arms. "Did you really mean that?" He nodded emphatically.
"Then take me into your bedroom, chain me taut as a bow string and fuck my ears off."
Glen picked her up in his arms and carried her through the doorway. Amy looked back at Georgina, who stood with a forlorn look on her face. "Hey, you’re invited too." With his free hand, Glen also waved her to follow them.
Hours later Glen lay nearly exhausted in the middle of the bed, flanked on one side by his PA, wearing the ankle shackle of a serving girl. On the other side his worn out wife-slave, still locked so tight her joints were popping. Not unexpectedly some 24 hours of arousal made Amy insatiable. Glen made the mistake of allowing her unlimited orgasms and promptly wore out his best man, then begged Georgina to do something - anything - to wear her out. Georgina called on moves she had forgotten decades ago and had Amy bouncing helplessly in her chains. Sleep finally decreed bed rest and all three were soon snoring.
Amy was late for work the next morning. Her face was shining as she explained her appearance in a Green Belt. She also had an announcement to make.
"Master and I had a discussion about this belt, which turned into an argument, which turned ugly. Fortunately it occurred during Open Time or I’d be languishing in a cell about a month away from daylight. First Mistress Georgina broke up the fight and ordered us - both - to make up, or she was quitting. We kissed, and Master said he loved me. I told him to take me into the bedroom and fuck my ears off. We invited First Mistress along and she volunteered for the cleanup position. Master chained me down, fucked me until he ran out of steam and then First Mistress worked me over until I was totally out of it. You haven’t lived if you haven’t had three dildos in your holes, all set on max."
"The big thing is that Master and I had a long talk before he even considered releasing me. We came to a compromise. The old punishment is done. I’ve served my sentence. The new punishments are deferred as long as I don’t screw up this job. Since my punishment serving as cleanup girl is cancelled, I felt it was only right to volunteer for the job, especially after the bang up job First Mistress did. Master bet me that I couldn’t stay out of trouble long enough to keep this job. He won’t let me tell you what the bet is, but I can tell you if I lose, my ass is his for forever and six months."
"Right off the bat I hit him for permission to use one of the guards to demonstrate using my pussy and my asshole. He turned three shades of green, jealous, but he got over it in a hurry and HE volunteered to help me demonstrate that class. I told him we’d have to hire a hall, because everybody and his uncle are going to want to see THAT!" I guess the big main classroom will be big enough, but let’s get some chairs from someplace. It’s going to be a long afternoon for the spectators, while I’m enjoying myself."
One of the teachers looked like she was about to cry. Amy asked what the problem was.
"Mistress, my class is scheduled against that."
"Oh, you’re invited too. I’ll have all your trainees anyway.
Penny called, congratulating Amy on her new position They talked for several minutes, then Penny turned the phone over to Dr. Steve.
"I understand you and Glen got into it last night. Anybody get hurt?"
"Oh, Master, it didn’t get that far. First Mistress Georgina broke it up." She went on to explain the evening events and their compromise.
"Do you think you can live with that?"
"Yes, Master. I’m sure my new job will keep me busy and out of trouble. I’d better, because he’s got all the details in his computer and he can call it up the minute I get out of line."
"I don’t want to think about the problems if you do. You could wind up over here, in a locked ward. You don’t want that, and I sure as hell don’t."
"No, Master. I would call you at the first sign of a problem. To change the subject, how is Penny doing?"
"Oh, I think she will continue to be disciplined for the next 15 to 20 years." He laughed. "She’s getting so she enjoys a good whipping. I’ll have to start looking for something new to get her attention."
Amy hung up and sat, staring at the wall, remembering. She looked at the clock and saw it was time to go home to Glen.
And so we come to the final curtain of "Amy’s Bondage," or perhaps it should have been "Amy’s Adventures." As I said in the Prolog, this story was more than 20 years in the making. I remembered enough to rewrite it. Some parts in the middle were difficult, but as I approached the end it seemed almost to write itself. I need to thank Suzi, who was critical of one part of the plot line, but in the process led me to a new, and very integral part of the plot.
There were many doors along the route from beginning to end. Some, I opened and closed. Some I never opened. Some I did open, but open or closed there are many different directions that the story could follow. I hesitate to say it is finished. I’ve only just begun to describe Georgina’s decades of cruel servitude. The forbidding Discipline Barracks has much to tell. A story like this begs to be picked up and carried further. I’d appreciate comments directed to Suzi.
There are other story projects with my name on them. I hope you will continue to read and enjoy them. If I earn your desire for more, tell Suzi.