Copyright 2002

All Rights reserved. Not for minors.
 

 Slave Saundra was in deep doodoo. A relatively minor offense, saying "No" at the wrong time and place, but then escalated into Felony One territory by repeating the forbidden word (in front of witnesses) with even more emphasis when the order was repeated.

 Master Ray almost slapped her. The unrepentant slave read the intent in his eyes and cringed away from the unstruck blow. She was the only one who could see his eyes so the sudden movement startled everyone else. Not that she was supposed to be looking into his eyes, but this seemed to be an evening chock full of offenses to their master-slave relationship..

 She didn't look into his eyes again. She had seen enough. She tasted bile in her mouth as her stomach curled up in a tight knot. A relatively pleasant evening among friends had suddenly turned sour. She glued her eyes to the plate in front of her, mentally cataloging the likely punishments (yes, plural) that she had already earned. She tuned out the conversation around her, wanting to scream, jump up and run, slap the grinning, knowing faces that surrounded her.

 They were mostly his friends. Two of the women she knew on a first name basis. She suspected they and the other women were slaves, but had never seen any concrete evidence or admission to prove it. On the other hand they, and everyone else at the table knew that she was Master Ray's slave. They also knew that he had a reputation - a  legendary reputation - as a slave trainer. As a matter of fact  every one of the woman present had been on an enforced tour of his basement 'playroom,' one or two for extended periods and there was even one who appeared at his back door for retraining on the first of every month.

 Saundra was already quite familiar with the downstairs facilities even though she had only
been in the relationship for a few months. Master Ray usually didn't display his slaves in public, but this particular evening was a special event, a wedding anniversary. He had warned her that she would be expected to make nice to the young couple, but she hadn't expected to be ordered under the table. One "No" led to another and the air conditioning was suddenly clogged with fecal .matter and Shelia was in lots of trouble.

 Knowing all too well that obeying now wouldn't save her a single lash, she placed her napkin beside her plate and slid off the seat onto her knees, ducking her head under the table. The long white linen hid her from the rest of the private room, the only possible onlookers the wait staff.

 She did her duty - ladies first. There was a startled half-choked cry from above as she began to lick, quickly followed by a moan of pleasure. Her husband looked at her, puzzled, then felt between her widely parted legs, encountering a bobbing head where he had expected to find a different head of hair.

 Saundra was definitely not bi- but orders were orders and things came to a rousing climax in short order. The anxious husband already had his fly unzipped and was rampantly ready for her mouth. He dissolved into a long drawn out grunt in a few seconds aroused past control by the unexpected visit. Saundra crawled back to her end of the table and poked her head out just in time to meet the eyes of the head waiter who was standing as if expecting her to emerge from below the cloth.

 He could barely hide his smirk, having watched the couple display their orgasms for all to see.and correctly guessing that the missing guest undoubtedly had something to do with their rapture.

 Face flushed, Saundra resumed her seat. Master Ray ignored her. She sensed, rather than saw it as her eyes resumed their attack on the plate in front of her.

 Slave Saundra counted the minutes to when it would be time to leave, counted the minutes for the long drive home. Master Ray wouldn't say a word and she wouldn't dare say anything.
Bleakly she counted the hours of pain she had earned. Not satisfied with her own assessment of her crimes, knowing Master Ray's sometimes harsh methods, she calmly tripled the hours - or days - of his wrath. The numbers scared her, setting off an unbidden scream of terror that choked her,  never reaching her lips.

 It was necessary to order her to eat. Unspoken, "Eat, or the expensive food comes out of your hide, piece by piece, dollar by dollar."

 She ate, grinding each bite to a liquid slurry, afraid to swollow against the knot in her belly. She drank glass after glass of water to help it down. Somehow, somewhere it disappeared. Her knotted stomach made no sign of recognition.

 Eons later the evening was over. She made small talk with the women, averting her eyes from the men, afraid to face their leers. She was careful to stay close to Master Ray, reading his body language as he finally turned and walked to the car. Neither spoke. The countdown continued until the car was safely inside and the door was closed. Neither spoke.

 The condemned walked behind her Master, straight to the room of pain. In seconds her expensive dress was cleaning rags. Her bra-less tits bounced with the energy he expending in stripping her. Nude, she stood, shivering slightly until he grasped her chin and raised her eyes to his. She stared, totaled her expected punishment, then doubled it again, reading the anger, the frustration, even shame that she had caused him. The slap was still there, only seconds away.

 But, he didn't hit her. Satisfied that she had a clear understanding of why she was about to be punished, he let the slap fade away. Left behind were dark clouds, very dark clouds.

 The first cloud thundered across her raised rump as she clutched the stand she was draped over. She counted ten zingers from his best cane. Momentarily sated, Master Ray walked back to the rack, polishing his pet before returning it to its proper rung.

 "Usually you ask to go potty about now." Statement.

 "Please, Master." Her first words in hours. All she dared say. They both knew that she had gulped down a good half dozen tall glasses.

 Then came the inspiration. Her master left the room for a moment, returning with a glass jar and a tall narrow measuring glass. Saundra was ordered to "Squat." When she was in position
Master Ray pulled up a comfortable chair in front of her. She kept her eyes down, frantically trying to assess this new development. He held the jar and the glass low, in her range of vision, bouncing them slightly to keep her full attention.

 "I have a new 'game' for you. I just invented it, so I will make up the rules as we go along, usually after you have broken the rule. The game is called 'Bladder Control,'something I'm sure you are not very familiar with.

 "It will start like this. I will set an arbitrary volume. You will piss exactly that amount, no more and no less. I'm going to pick 10 ccs. If you shut off at nine or less you get five strokes of whatever instrument of correction I choose. If it's 11 or more it will be 10 strokes for each marker on that tube. You will hold it up so that I can see the reading and then dump it in your jar.
You will have exactly sixty seconds to complete this and you will repeat it each minute thereafter until I tell you to stop, or pick a different amount."

 "Oh, and let me point out that this is just the punishment for that first 'No.' There will be more later, tomorrow, next week and probably next month.

 "Yes, Master." Saundra accepted her fate, even as she tried to think how she was going to control her bladder. Bleak was a nice word.

 Slave Saundra would be pleased if we drew a veil over the events of the next several weeks. She trained well, at the expense of acres and acres of hide, but by the time the next party rolled around she had a muscle that would crush a steel rod. Naturally she went to the party and naturally she was asked to demonstrate her prowess. Without the slightest hesitation she hiked up her skirt and squatted on the table. Her jug and measuring glass appeared as if by magic.

 Without prompting she went up and down the scale in one cc increments, each time holding up the tube to confirm the reading. For the finale she held the jug between her legs and very carefully let single drops fall with a splash. Or as one of the participants said later, "One damn drop after another!