by Raul Roget


 The soft beep of my security alarm alerted me that someone was coming up the back trail. I put down the magazine I was reading, pausing to eye the naked beauty so prominently displayed on the cover, and then glancing out the window I saw Jenine just emerging from the trees at the edge of the small meadow that was my lawn.

 As she came up the path and climbed the steps to the deck I mentally undressed her, removing the crisp white blouse and skin tight jeans that were her sole garments. With each step her unbound breasts rolled and swayed delightfully, dragging her proud nipples back and forth across the white fabric.

 I had no doubt they had been erect the entire distance, the lengthy mile of winding trail that wandered through the scenery from the main road. By car it was half the distance and paved at that, but Jenine needed the exercise. There was a specific purpose in her walk.

 Knowing she couldn't see me in the shadowed room as she stood in the brilliant early morning sun, looking at the house, I waited and watched, expectantly. Jenine stood awkwardly poised, as if half ready to flee from something. She glanced over her shoulder at the path back to civilization, then turned toward the house again, a look of determination on her face.

 Her hands went to her shoulders, drawing the straps of the back pack she was wearing out over her shoulders, catching the weighty pack carefully before it fell completely away. Gently she lowered it to the deck, stooping slightly to place it carefully in position, aligned with the boards in the floor.

 Straightening, she stood, her soft reddish mane floating away in the breeze, then settling on her shoulders, stark against the white. She stared at the door in front of her as if expecting it to suddenly open. I stood silently, unmoving, enjoying what was about to happen.

 One more quick peek at her escape route. She half shook her head, her body moving involuntarily with a slow sigh of resignation. Her chest heaved as she drew in the fresh crisp air. She lifted her hand, fingers partly spread, then firmed them to their task.

 One by one she unbuttoned the stylish pearl buttons on her blouse, not really slowly, but with a steady pace that underscored her resolve. The blouse opened, shrugged away from the silky skin of her shoulders, sliding down her arms with elegant grace. I had mandated "no bra." I nodded in silent confirmation as her classic breasts appeared, amply fulfilling the promise of the well stretched cloth that had cradled them. I licked my lips in anticipation, feeling my cock surging against my leg.

 Jenine folded the blouse neatly and placed it exactly in line with the pack on the deck. As she bent over I could see that gravity had no appreciable effect beyond the exquisite elongation that is the mark of a healthy, well toned breast. My fingers twitched at the temptation, anxious to feel, to test, palm and play, as my eyes followed their slight roll as she straightened up, the nipples drilling twin holes in the breeze.

 The face was beautiful enough. Adding two extra perfect tits with their rock solid nipples to the picture put a serious strain on my composure. My hand fell naturally to my prick, stroking its hardness through my jeans, of necessity adjusting it snug against my belly to avoid its being pinched or trapped in my shorts.

 As I watched, she unbuckled her belt, then unexpectly pulled it by the buckle, drawing it out of the loops. Doubling it she laid it beside the growing row on the deck, again displaying the sweet rounding of her firmness as she bent over. Without straightening up she unlaced and slipped out of her hiking shoes, placing them with the toes exactly on the edge of the plank she was using as a straight edge.

 She came erect, with a grace that accented the nudity of her upper body, displaying an innate knowledge and serene acceptance of her own beauty, confident of its effect on whatever male eye might be watching. Deftly her hands opened the button and slid the zipper down, the cloth turning back and flaring away from her taut stomach. She needed both hands to peel the tightness of the jeans from her gently swelling hips and sleek thighs.

 One bare foot left the wood and became a third hand, sliding the lower leg down, trapping it against the deck as she pulled her shapely lag free. Her weight shifted to her other foot, doing marvelous things to her thrusting tits, adding new vistas of erotic pleasure to my mind's eye. Jenine smoothly drew the other leg free, leaving the jeans momentarily in a jumbled pile.

 In the instant before she bent from the waist to recover them I could see the narrow strap that was snugged against the first flair of her hips. Dropping straight from it an even narrower strap, more a thong, bisected her mound and disappeared between the inviting pinkness of her cunt lips, bare in the harsh glare of the sun, polished of any vestige of the once luxuriant bush that had adorned them.

 In that hasty glimpse of her inviting sex I didn't see the blunt end of the vibrator that I knew was fixed in her channel by the thong. I didn't have to see it to know the intimacy with which it had buried itself in her during the long walk, or to know that she would have come from its ministrations at least once. Jenine would have much to tell me.

 Now, she was totally, starkly nude, except for the belt. Frankly the thin leather made her somehow even more naked. I watched as she completed the array on the grey wooden planks with a perfection that matched the whole aura about her. She straightened, staring at the blank door before her, positioning herself.

 I glanced at my watch, timing her. She stood, legs splayed, feet positioned on the line, her arms straight out from her shoulders, hands vertical, fingers together, eyes on the door. She stood, motionless for exactly 100 seconds, turned and resumed the pose, facing the woods and the path she had just traced.

 I chuckled when I saw her back. Two things attracted my attention past the slim perfection that would draw the gaze of any painter. One was the belt, casually knotted in an obvious bow that would collapse at a single tug, releasing her from any discomfort the buried thong and its humming appendage might have caused. The other was her back, unmarked from her neck to her thighs, virgin flesh.

 She stood for long minutes facing away from me. I knew that she felt eyes on her nudity, that her mind conjured up not only my watchfulness, but the hot male eyes that had followed her up the long path and now watched lustfully as she displayed herself in all her helplessness. Jenine was smart, highly intelligent, well read and perfectly attuned to what was about to happen to her.

 Silently I opened the door. If she heard, she gave no sign, not even a muscle twitch of apprehension to mar the pristine beauty of her slimness. A board creaked lightly as I moved toward her, but she gave no sign, rigidly posed. I touched her, fingers caressing the leather, at the knot. Still there was no response.

 Circling her outstretched arm, I walked slowly, inspecting her, watching her eyes. She had selected a certain tree, locking her gaze to avoid glancing at me, making eye contact. Unmoving she allowed me to touch the hardness of her nipples, the resilliance of her breasts, the soaked leather where it reappeared to loop under her body. Not once did her eyes leave that distant tree as I deliberately violated the innocence of her nudity, testing her resolve.

 You see, I am a trainer. I make my living - a very comfortable one I might add - by working with females whose husbands or boyfriends feel the need to have them taken along the road to total submission by a professional. I'm good at my work and I get paid accordingly, with all sorts of fringe benefits. Without bragging, I'm booked solid, with a fairly lengthy waiting list. I don't make house calls and as you are about to see, the client furnishes any special tools that I need to produce the desired results.

 Each girl is different. Jenine came willingly, or at least obediently. Some of the girls who have posed for me on my sun deck had to be literally dragged up that trail, dancing to a whip each resisting step of the way. Others have been delivered to my front door in rigerous bonds and suffering serious pain before I even touched them, more than one hogtied in a car trunk, the back of a van, RV or even the back of a pickup for the trip.

 Not that it would earn her any favors, but Jenine did make a couple of points with her strict compliance with the detailed instructions I had given her master. She gave all the signs of having rehearsed and practiced her strip, but it remained to be seen whether her taking orders was a pretense or not. She would escape the initial thrashing that was usually required to get a girl's attention and get her to start taking orders, but there was plenty more on her personal schedule to fill out the three day weekend she was booked for.

 Satisfied with my inspection, my mouth watering in anticipation, I stood beside her and ordered her to the deck, legs spread, knees up, her head pressed against the back pack. I stood between her knees as she opened the pack, pulled forth an item and handed it to me, staring over my head. I took it and held it in front of me.

 "This is....?"

 "A pussy whip, master. My cunt is displeasing to my master and deserves special punishment. It was too dry when he wanted to fuck me."

 Jenine reached for the next tool and handed it to me. It was a similar whip, except the strands were wire thin with tiny knots scattered along them. Before I could ask she announced,

 "This is a nipple whip. My master is angry because my nipples don't always remain hard when he is disciplining me. I am instructed to beg for a doubling of any penalty for which you use this."

 I handed both whips back to her. Without hesitation she laid them beside her, just within reach, before pulling the next item from the pack.

 "This is a riding crop. It is brand new. My master considers me devious, deceptive, a liar and a schemer. I begged that it be included, to be returned to him well worn as proof that I am none of these things."

 "Has your master ever whipped you?"

 "Yes, master, but only with the smaller whips. Not with the crop, or with this."

 She handed me a coiled length of plaited black leather. I shook the coils loose, letting the thin end fall along her thigh. For the first time she reacted, a tiny tic jerking in her upper groin, close to her pussy.

 "I was told that the minimum I would receive each day with this would be 10 lashes. More if I fail to learn my lessons properly."

 My hand moved, my wrist rolling, and the tip uncoiled like a flyline, catching her from her mound straight up between her tits to the base of her throat. Jenine grunted as the air flew from her lungs, caught by surprise, too startled to even cry her sudden pain. It wasn't a hard blow, but her eyes widened in startled recognition and awe of its potential.

 Calmly, I made my point,

 "Twice already you have neglected to address me as master. The first one was allowed as a slip of the tongue. The next will earn you two harder extras, the one after that four even harder. The count will continue for your entire stay, doubling each time. Is that clear?"

 "Yes, master."

 "Anything else in your pack?"

 "Yes, master. Here is a set of wrist and ankle cuffs. They are well made, any one of them able to support my entire weight. My master feels that suspension is one way of improving my concentration."

 "I'll be the judge of that," I snapped, detecting the faintest tinge of smugness in her recitation.

 I was beginning to suspect that Jenine was definitely not the perfectly obedient submissive she was pretending to be. I was already exploring the very strong possibility that beautious Jenine was capable of wrapping her master around her little finger.
 Obviously, her unsullied hide was ample proof of the kind of master she had. Besides teaching Jenine a well deserved lesson or two, it was apparent that her master was going to need some pointed advice before I turned her back over to him.

 "Is that all?"

 The question hung in midair. I knew it wasn't. She wasn't positive that I knew. She hesitated, telling me volumns. Hurriedly she reached over her head, feeling in the pack until she drew out her hand, clutching a jumble of straps and metal. It tangled in the pack, pulling it against her head before it came free to be offered to me.

 "The reason why I am here is because I wouldn't allow my master to fuck me in the ass. He sent this to......"

 The whip interrupted her, spiraling around her thigh, drawing a yelp of pain. Without changing position I backhanded the other thigh, getting a much louder cry in response. I jerked the whip away, flicking the tip to land not too gently on her cheek and across the bridge of her nose - right where she could see it plainly. Her eyes widened as realization was triggered by her punisment.

 "Forgetful, among other things," I said, grimly.

 "The reason why you are here is to beg me to fuck you in the ass, beg me to teach you to beg your master to fuck you in the ass, beg me to teach you some manners. Not because you did, or didn't do something, but because you are here to do everything and anything I tell you to do. Is that clear?"

 "Yes, master, of course."

 You couldn't have asked for a more polite response, which besides confirming my growing suspicions also got under my skin. She should have known better than to try her perfection routine on me, just because she had gotten away with it for so long with her master.

 I raised one foot and stepping back I kicked her knees together.

 "On you stomach!" I barked, cracking the whip an inch from her ear. She jumped, ducking away from the whip, rolling on the wood with anxiety induced agility. She sprawled, legs spread, tits grinding into the planks, her nose jammed into the pack, shoving her head back at a sharp angle.

 "Ask for two!"

 Jenine shot her words at me, almost before I got the order out,

 "Please, master, whip me twice."

 I eyed all her tempting targets. The two I chose were quickly identified by bright red marks from the curve behind each knee straight up her thigh and well onto her ass cheeks. I let the whip swing forward, slithering on her back. She cringed but was silent, supressing a sniff through her tear clogged nose.

 My calm restored, I informed her that she was not only going to have to ask for the two again, she was going to have to ask that each one be harder than the one before and that there were two extras for not thanking me for each of the two wasted strokes.

 About at that point she was smart enough to realize that I was onto her schemes and intent on making her hurt, so I watched a very quick transformation. By the time she had sincerely begged me to whip her through the course, including the extra she got for kicking out with her leg, she had already changed from pretend docile to a very abject submissive with all sorts of new resolve, centering on pleasing me and my whip.

 She accepted my reminder fairly calmly that none of these counted against the regular 10 she was scheduled to receive each day. She was a little less calm when I announced that all of this was preliminary to the start of her training. As an extra dose of humiliation I demanded my payment in advance. Opening a side pocket on the pack she pulled out an envelope, then raised herself to a kneeling position in front of me. Opening the envelope, she counted out ten crisp $100 notes, fanned them out and handed them to me.

 Deliberatly insulting her, I counted them twice. She flushed when I wondered aloud what her master would make her do to earn that money back. I told her, bluntly,

 "If you're lucky, you may be luckier than one girl who was here recently. Her master made her work as a whore to earn not only every cent of my fee, but also the charges for the blood tests and the doctor's exams before and after. If she has to come back for a refresher course, he's already told her she's cut back to $5 a head, and can only do blow jobs."

 Her eyes widened slightly when I casually crumpled the bills in a wad and stuck them in my shirt pocket. I kept my stare impassive, already certain that I was getting my message through to her. Her smooth front was already cracking a bit at the edges. I was about to put some deep gashes in it.

 Back in her display position, I buckled and locked the leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles, adding a moderately heavy iron collar from a locker that doubled as a seat on the deck. I glanced at the matching belt, then decided to leave it as a little surprise for her, later. She never moved her eyes from her tree the whole time. I let her enjoy the freedom of ignoring me, knowing that I would have her rapt attention very shortly.

 I could feel her surprise at the collar, her body stiffening imperceptably at the new sensation, a half shiver acknowledging the cold metal. Jenine obviously had expected that I would limit her bonds to those her master had furnished. More for her to learn.

 It would be a rude awakening for her, but if I found it necessary, I had some whips in my arsenal that outclassed and outranked the one she had brought by quite a margin of pain. My arrangements with my customers allowed me to keep any of the equipment they furnished that I took a fancy to. It gave me the option of keeping the very best, so I did.

 Using the butt of the whip I prodded Jenine forward, toward the center of the deck, near the railing. With my foot I pointed out four knots in the wood. I barked,

 "Cover them!"

 Jenine took the order literally and went down on her knees, then to her belly, hiding two under her thighs and the other two under her outflung arms. I slashed her across the back with the whip, snapping,


 She bounced to her feet and spread her arms and legs, knowing she had goofed, puzzled by the first order.

 "Your feet go on two of them, your hands on the other two. That's ALL of you that touches the deck. Got that?"

 "Yes, master."

 She responded instantly. even as she quickly positioned herself, afraid of my whip and scared by my cryptic orders that allowed her to misunderstand them and make mistakes. She didn't have to be told twice that mistakes meant pain

 I admired the view, walking slowly around her. Her body was arched downward toward her arms, rump high, her pussy peeping back at me through her angled legs. Her tits hung free, bobbing slightly with her breathing.

 "Get used to this position as it is one you will assume instantly at any time in your training. When I say 'deck' you will have a very limited time to find these four markers and get on them."

 "Once in position, you will hold it, regardless of anything that is happening to you, anything that is done to you. If you move a hand or a foot enough for me to see the knot, whatever punishments are pending are doubled, including your daily ten. Falling down is going to be even worse. Much worse. If I were you I wouldn't even THINK about falling down unless you're trying to scare yourself to death."

 Walking as I talked, I watched her closely, reading the effect of my words in the uncontrollable tensioning and slackening of her muscles, little tics that came and went just under her fair skin. She'd gotten enough whip already to thoroughly scare her, and my threats of worse got to her at a level the whip couldn't reach. I could just about read her mind, trying not to think of what I might do that was worse than whipping her.

 She expected pain, so I crossed her up by stepping behind her and reaching under to palm her mound. I could feel the juices slicking my hand as I found her clit and roughly rubbed and pinched it, instantly arousing her, to the point where she groaned with pleasure. Her hips bucked an invitation that I regretfully declined, intent on her training, not my personal pleasure. The job came first, but later, there would be ample pleasure.

 My next move was a calculated one. I opened my fly and dropped my pants. With her head hanging she couldn't see much but my legs. I kicked the slacks to one side, following them with my shorts. Ready, I stepped forward and fingered her clit again, feeling her press back against my hand. I grinned to myself at her obvious ploy.

 Holding my cock I rammed it forward hard, slamming into her ass, dry. The head butted painfully against her puckered hole. She jerked as if I had shot her, her ass cheeks clenching on the sides of my prick. An involuntary "Nooooooooooo" came floating up to me, music to my ears. I raised my arm and swatted her left ass cheek as hard as I could with my open palm.

 Jenine winced, as much from the pistol shot report as from the pain. Anyone within a quarter of a mile could easily identify the sound and the cause. I knew that there was nobody out there to hear it, but she didn't, adding to her humiliation.

 Coldly, I outlined her immediate future,

 "For somebody that's supposed to be smart, you rate dumb, on top of being disrespectful. This slip is going to cost you four, tripled if you break position. THEN I'll discuss something suitable for saying "No" to a master."

 I couldn't ask for better targets. Jenine took her punishment with the appropriate whimpers and then thanked me with a new tone of respect in her voice.

 "On your feet!"

 She scrambled to obey, snapping into position almost perfectly. Almost, but not to my satisfaction. I curved the whip diagonally up her back, the tip reaching around to nip at the base of her right tit even as I ordered,

 She hit her marks with a rush.

 "Up!" "Deck" "Up!" "Deck" "Up!" "Deck" "Up!" "Deck"

 When I stopped I had her breathing hard, and with two or three new red streaks to show for her slips, but she was positioned perfectly once more on her hands and feet. From the little pile on the deck I picked up the final item she had reluctantly pulled from her pack. Untangling it I walked up behind her, standing between her correctly spread legs. I probed, letting her feel the cold metal against her sphincter. The barest of shivers ran through her body as she guessed what I was holding.

 "You have exactly 30 seconds to convince me that I shouldn't ram this full length into you, bone dry. Unless you have a better suggestion, of course......"

 The words gushed from her lips like I'd pulled the plug on Boulder Dam,

 "Master, I deserve to be punished, but please don't stick that into me dry. Stick it in my cunt first. I'm dripping with juice. You can do anything you want with it, just please, please, master, don't jam it in me dry. Yyyyou'll tear me apart..... Please, master, wet it first."

 I kept the metal against her butt for the count of ten, pushing it against her a couple of times. Then I lowered it and sluiced it into her sopping pussy. Getting whipped really seemed to get her juices flowing, which was good to know. She wouldn't like what was about to happen to her, but she'd be getting hotter and hotter the whole time I was punishing her.

 Slick and wet, the tapered point slid into her ass without much resistance. Intentionally rough, I didn't give her even a moment to adjust to the invasion. I positioned the small crank handle and twisted it sharply.

 Jenine squawked in surprised protest, both outraged by the penetration and feeling the stabbing pain it produced as her sphincter was pried apart by the geared jaws. I could see her muscles working as she tried to expell the intruding device, an attempt she abruptly stopped when she realized that she was inviting more pain for resisting. She knew the purpose of the device, but I was positive her master had done little more than just show it to her, rather than shoving it to her.

 The second twist brought an agonized moan from the helpless girl as she was opened another half an inch. She bit her lip to avoid protesting, or even begging, already aware that I would suffer not the least bit of interference in what I had planned for her training. As she tried to adjust, I used the opportunity to attach the straps and belt that would hold the device in place, locking the belt tightly about her trim waist.

 The third twist raised the moans a full octave as Jenine got the full import of what the device was doing to her, as well as the potential it had. She held out for one more twist and then began begging me to fuck her in the ass, sobbing as if I had killed her. It was nice to know that she could be reached. I had plenty of other tools available within a few steps that could penetrate her facade just as effectively as this particular gadget was opening up her rear hole.

 When I tired of hearing her pleading, I shut her up, curtly. As a matter of fact that's what I said, "Shut up."

 She shut, like closing a faucet.


 She wanted to keep her legs apart when she was upright, a grimaace of pain distorting her features as her body moved against the steel jaws locked inside her. I got both legs with a single slash, which was enough to make her ankle bones touch firmly.

 Using the shortened whip freely, I prodded her toward the cellar entrance, down the stairs and into the gloom, made doubly dark by the brilliant sunshine we left. Jenine gasped when I turned on the spotlight, outlining the square barred cage in the center of the cement floor.

 As far as she was concerned, descending the cellar stairs was a pain in the ass. As far as I was concerned it was a prelude to some serious pain, but I knew she would take it and wind up begging for more. She was mine for the whole weekend, not just a couple of hours.

 Into the cage she went, with me right at her heels. I pulled a remote control out of my shirt pocket and used it to let a steel bar down from the ceiling. Jenine looked up when she heard the whine of the motor, shaking her head once as she devined its purpose. I stopped it just over her head.

 Without looking at me she tentatively raised her arms, managing to spear one of the loose cuff links on the hook on one end, but the bar swung away from her other cuff, so I had to attach it, immediately raising it until she was stretched and barely on her toes. Momentarily she was back in familiar territory, practiced from the suspension her regular master favored, but my version went considerably beyond his.

 Holding the whip in front of me I walked around her, then faced her.

 "Did you enjoy your orgasm on the walk up?"

 The faintest flush gave her away. She considered lying to me, the thought process clear in her eyes, then decided she was in too deep to risk it.

 "Yes, master," she whispered.

 "More than one?"

 "No, master. My master makes me control my... orgasms."

 "But he told you my orders?"

 "Yes, master. I was forbidden to come, even once. I disobeyed his order and yours, so I beg that you punish me for my lack of control."

 "Count these then, and thank me graciously for each one."

 "Yes, master." "One. Thank you, master." "Two. Thank you master...."

 She held up nicely for all ten, although she was sobbing when she squeezed out the last formality. I gave her my best grin. "Now, you get 10 for 'forgetting' to tell me about your orgasm. Your mantra changes to: Thank you,Master. May I have the next one harder please?'"

 That got to her but good, despite the fact that I very carefully and accurately paced the increase in strength so that the last one was about 150 percent of the first one. You could count them on her in the same order.

I turned and walked to a stand outside the cage, returning with a glass of water.

 "Here, take this."

 Jenine looked at the pill in my hand, then at me, fearful and puzzled, afraid that I was drugging her, or worse, her imagination enhancing my status as a monster who tortured helpless women.

 "Yes, master," she gritted out, still feeling the whip. She accepted the pill, gulped the water gratefully as I held the glass, swallowing steadily until it was drained.

 "Thank you, master."

 "You won't thank me in about a half hour. As part of your punishment for refusing me your asshole, you just took a laxitive that is known in medical circles as the "ultimate weapon." The effect is like swallowing a doorknob. It takes just about 30 minutes for it to reach the end, shoving your guts ahead of it. Since you're wide open back there you stand to earn some more punishment for making a mess, so use the time constructively to think up about 17 ways of inviting me to stick my cock in there - after you've been cleaned up."

 "Master! Please!!!" It was all she dared say, the words tumbling over each other, as she waited through my chilling explanation, afraid to interrupt.

 "Your master did tell you that this is not a vacation, that you are here to learn some manners."

 She looked daggers, but admitted, "Yes, master."

 "Then, start thinking."

 "Yes, Master."

 I shut and locked the cage after removing the leather cuffs on her ankles. Without another word I walked away, without even looking back toward her, even though she was well worth a second look. Putting most of her weight on her wrists did marvellous things to her body, adding dimension to her curves, her tits shaped into forms that made my hands ache to squeeze and maul them.

 Another fact that Jenine was totally unaware of was that she was being watched by a concealed video camera, which fed both a recorder and a channel on my TV sets. After all, I was in charge of some pretty, and valuable property, so it was smart business to keep a close watch to make sure things didn't go wrong. Besides the secondary benefits of getting to watch the trainees suffering, it also frequently gave me some tips on how to make their lessons even more effective. If not for them, for the next girl to come up my garden path.

 I'm going to draw a veil over what I saw on the screen as I relaxed with a drink on the deck. Let's just say that the pill worked, perfectly. I made a second drink, finished it and then descended the cellar steps again to find a very wan, very chagrined and very chastened young woman.

 I chuckled, "Soiled your diapers, didn't you?" Shamefaced she meekly acknowledged my sally, "Yes, master."

 To complete her humiliation I used the garden hose and a long handled brush to clean her up, ignoring the pleading in her eyes and leaving the expansion device in place in her sphincter.

 As I bathed her she twisted and turned, thrust by the powerful jet of icy water, unable to effectively avert or avoid it. I gave her some practical advice."

 "There are more of those pills available, so if you get any ideas of resisting, you can easily find one on your plate three times a day for the whole weekend. If I were you, the next time your master wants to fuck you in the ass, I'd jump at the chance, or you might wind up with this rig up your bunghole, fully dressed, sitting in some fancy restaurant and knowing that you are going to make a spectacle of yourself. I don't know if you've ever had to walk with your panties full of shit"

 Her eyes widened as she drew herself a graphic mental picture, my words scoring heavily. Keeping her off balance, I let her hang while I toweled her dry, using the rough cloth on her nipples and pussy to get her thoroughly aroused and panting. Then I lowered the bar and unhooked her wrists. At my command she went to her knees on the still wet floor, then crouched, ass high in the air, her nose inches from the floor drain.

 "Master, please, I want it."

 "Want what?"

 "Your cock, up my.... ass. My virgin ass, master, take it, please." She moved against the spreader, her hips writhing, inviting, anxious to please me in some small way.

 I let her wait several seconds, then I slashed her back with the whip, bringing a mewling cry of surprise to her lips as the lash crossed the still vivid reminders of her earlier punishment.

 "Stupid, stupid, stupid," I growled at her, as annoyed as I was satisfied. "You don't offer ME your virgin ass, you offer it to your master, along with your abject apologies for withholding it from him. Now tell me that your cunt and your mouth are virgin and we'll start at the beginning!

 "No, master, I have been fucked many times in both. My master told me I would have to give you anything you wanted. I will willingly do anything to show you that I appreciate the training you are giving me.

 "Something of a change in attitude from that flat refusal up on the deck," I sneered.

 "Master, I admit I came here with the idea that you would be as easy on me as my master. You have shown me that you mean what you say and don't make idle threats. I thought you were kidding me with that 'doorknob' routine. That is, until I felt exactly what you described, knowing I was helpless to stop it."

 "Well, the effect is three times worse on an empty stomach, so consider yourself lucky if you get through the rest of the weekend without a repeat performance. I intend to send you back
a lot more obedient than when you arrived."

 Late in the evening after hours spent learning things my way, Jenine found herself sprawled across the top of my desk, her ankles shackled to the end legs, her arms outstretched to heavy leather straps that drew the crease in her lower belly hard against the edge. The spreader was undisturbed in her ass, doing its excellent job of opening her up for future use.

 Jenine was pooped, sore and marvallously subdued. A horse trainer friend who had taught me some of his methods would certainly have described her as "gentled down." I take pride in my work and Jenine's response was worth bragging about. I was sure that her master would have trouble recognizing her as the obstinite, stubborn and opinionated girl that he had sent me. Whether the training would "hold" after he got her back and failed to keep her in line was another matter entirely.

 Tired as she was, she was swimming in her own juices, her pussy a soggy swamp that sent sheets of moisture trickling down her thighs. She had been on the verge of an orgasm for most of the day, a pleasure that I enjoyed denying her, sensing her perverse pleasure from being denied something she wanted very badly, perhaps the first time in her young life she had ever been refused anything.

 Putting her over the jumps had kept me in a permanent state of erection, a situation I made no effort to hide from her, slashing her nastily every time she suggested some exotic way of relieving my needs, saving my strength for later. I don't know whether she ignored or invited the whip, but she kept after me every time I gave her half a chance.

 Now she was staring at a speaker-phone, inches from her nose, her chin propped on the hard desk top, trying hard to make sense of some of the things I had done to her, and even trying to guess what was going to happen next.   She gave a startled gasp when I slid easily into her from behind, filling her snugly as I bottomed deep in her channel, making her grunt with delight.
 Resting one hand on her smooth back I tapped the keys on my regular phone, then pressed the button to switch the call to the speaker and put the phone down. Jenine jerked slightly at the loud buzz of the ring, making special things happen with her muscles around my slowly thrusting cock. The phone rang twice before there was a loud click.


 Jenine recognized the voice instantly, again massaging me, confirming my own identification.

 "Somebody here wants to talk to you, to tell you about her day, up to now." I emphasized the "now" with a measured extra pressure on her back. Smart girl, she got the message.

 "Master, I have learned many things today from my trainer. Above all I have the one desire to throw myself at your feet, crawl to you and beg forgiveness for the way I've acted. You've been too lenient with me. One day here and I know just how mild your treatment has been. I can be your true slave only if you are firm, harsh, unforgiving, cruel and strict. My trainer has already taught me to know the whip, to beg for punishment, to obey in every possible way. He has shown me what you can accomplish with me, learning my slavery, learning to submit through the pain of unending punishment."

 Her master was silent at the other end, but I could hear his aroused breathing. If it were me, I would have been a bit more tactful in telling him that he wasn't the master he thought he was. She obviously knew what she could get away with with him. Or at least thought she did. He broke in, putting her in her place in a few well chosen words,

 "Slave, how would you like to crawl back to the car on your belly, whipped all the way." It came out as a statement of intent, not even a rhetorical question. My eyes widened in surprise, thankful that Jenine couldn't see my face. She visibly jerked, her cunt muscles tugging at my rod convulsively. Almost as if he could see our startled reaction, he addressed me.

 "If you are in the slightest way dissatisfied with her response to your training, you are to call me when she is ready to crawl home." Then to her, "Slave, I want a detailed description of everything that has been done to you today. Everything."

 Without hesitation she launched into a vivid discription, beginning with her forbidden orgasm on the trail, It was raunchy enough to turn on a stone statue because she told him everything, in the filthiest language, from the way she felt to how hard the whip had fallen, just where the stripe was, how much it hurt, how embarassed and humiliated she was to be trained by a total stranger.

 Listening to her I was hard put to keep from flooding her with come. When she began to describe the sensations produced by the spreader that was still holding her open, I was breathing as hard as her master, whom I'm sure was beating his meat as he listened to her.

 She wound up her litany by describing the position she was in over my desk, winding up by telling him, "Master, I am bound helplessly across the top of his desk. He is standing behind me, his big prick in my cunt, and he has been fucking me during this whole conversation. Every time he moves into me, he presses on the spreader in my ass, reminding me that my virgin ass is being opened for your cock."

 There was silence for a moment, Then his surprisingly calm voice came clearly into the room,

 "Your training seems to be going well. With your trainer's permission, I will join you. Since you feel I have been too mild with you, I shall have to learn how to make you regret your scheming and lying - and your assessment of me."

 I chuckled to myself, feeling her cunt twist and spasm as the  portent of his words sunk in. Two men with whips for a weekend of  rigorous training were nothing to look forward to. It didn't help her composure a bit that her master was suddenly seeing through her wiles, just as I had.

 "The charge will double, but you're welcome to participate." I paused for effect, hearing his ready agreement fill the room, savoring the quiver in the tight flesh around my cock. I added, "Oh, and bring a decent whip. This crop seems to have lost its effect."

 Jenine tried to look at me, startled, her face a roadmap of horror, but I ignored her, quickly ending the conversation. Her master would join us within the hour. Warning her, "You are not to come," I rammed her with several quick strokes and flooded her with my come. I backed out of her and stood waiting.

 "Thank you, master, for fucking me." The tone was sincere, even though I knew she was teetering on the brink of a massive orgasm. I hadn't coached her response either, but I had been poised to extract a painful penalty if she didn't volunteer. After all, when I give a trainee the slightest pleasure, I expect profuse thanks.

 The second thing I expect it a thorough cleanup job. I may be old fashioned, but I don't consider a cleanup as thorough until I'm at least half hard again, even after a rough night. That I had to remind her of, and even instruct a bit. God knows where she learned to suck a cock, but much of it was wrong. About four stripes down the road she began to get it right. Finally!

 About then Master shows up. I'd never met the guy, doing business over the Internet and phone. I glanced out the window, did a double take and looked again. Wimpville! I left Jenine kneeling and went out to talk to him. With every step my impression of him got stronger and alarm bells started ringing in my ears.

 Five minutes of chat and I had a rock solid case. This guy was a cop, or something. A minute later he was a tied up dude, with a pair of handcuffs on his wrists and some pretty feeble protests on his lips. I got him by the collar, frisked him - empty - and frog marched him inside. Jenine looked up in horror when she saw I had him cuffed. I dumped him in a chair and grabbed her by the hair. Before she got out more than one squawk I had her suspended. One more screetch and she sported my longest spreader bar between her ankles.

 Opening my tool kit I got out my biggest pair of pliers. Selecting a tuft of pussy hair I tightened up on it. "Would anybody like to tell me what's going on?" Wimp glares. Cunt looks at him for a cue. I pull. Pussy comes apart. Big sobs. I find another clump. I pull. Pussy cries.

 "OK! She's not my slave, she's my sister."

 Pussy busts out bawling. I tell them, "This is about as Kosher as a hog farm in Mecca. Tell me about it."

 A sordid tale indeed. Sister gets caught diddling herself. along with some self bondage. One bit of blackmail by brother leads to another. Sister admits she's a bondage freak but refuses to bed brother unless he gives her a real bondage experience. Family is rich so money is no problem. My name comes up in a chat room and the rest is current history.

 I solved this very quickly. I pull little brother up by the ears and politely inform him that he will never, ever touch his big sister again, that he will never ever breath a word of any of this  to anybody or he will eat his cock with his balls for dessert. Now I am a believable guy when I'm upset and Wimp converted on the spot. He just about pissed his pants in the process, which gave me another idea. I fed him one of the doorknob pills and then nagged on him for close to half an hour before I sent him home to get his sister's belongings. He just got to the main highway when it hit. You could see the big stain for months - the size of a cowflop - right on the  pavement.

 From that moment she has been Sister Slave, or Sis for short. Sis slept in my bed for the first month on her belly. She has to come to me every three days and beg to be punished for deceiving me so I kept her backside tenderized on a semi-permanent basis, outside of the swipes she gets for sloppy work. I sentenced her to 20 years of slavery for the dumb stunt and she has to count each day and come to me and apologize for wasting my time on her. I get a real kick out of hearing her say, "I have been a slave for 100 days and I have more than 7,000 days to serve."

 Quite a comedown for Miss Rich Bitch. She gets to tend the garden, mow the lawn, shovel snow, scrub the floors, cook, and of course fuck and suck. She also has to help me train my clients. There's nothing like making one slave help make a slave out of another woman. Nothing like the feel of Sis's hand guiding my cock into some trainee either. Ah, the perks of a trainer.