The Trainer
by Sir Richard

Chapter 1 - The Business

I am a white slaver.  Well, no, that’s not really a good description.  I don’t care if the slave is white or black or brown or yellow or, for that matter, striped like a zebra.  So I guess that makes me an equal opportunity slaver.  That doesn’t really sound right, but I am certain you get the idea.  I guess a better description would be that I am a slave trainer.  It is physically demanding highly skilled work.  The work pays well and has many side benefits including the sexual use of some absolutely lovely women.

In the Beginning

I wasn’t always a trainer.  When I started in the business I was involved in selecting and procuring women to be trained.  That is to say, I was in the kidnapping side of the business.  It was generally easy work but did require a two-man team.  We would select an attractive woman, most often in a shopping mall, follow her to car and then take her.  This was the only tricky part of the operation.

The driver would maneuver the van to shield me and the woman from observation.  I would slip out behind the woman and zap her with a stun gun.  Generally on the back of her neck, though summer dresses often offered a great expanse of attractive smooth skin and a choice of places to zap her.  At any rate once the stun gun did its work I would pull her limp body back into the van.  The driver would pull on out of the lot while I bound and gagged the woman.  Nothing too fancy, just a ball gag, wrists tied and cinched, crossed behind her back, ankles tied and cinched and then pulled into a hog tie.  I always tied the wrists first just in case she woke up but generally, as I became more proficient, I had the woman hog tied and gagged before she stirred.  Each woman was blindfolded before we got to the safe house.

As I said this was easy work.  We always tried to keep our slaves in the 18 to 29 years age bracket or at least to women who looked to be in that age group.  The bodies were generally tight and attractive though you would be surprised at how many women we passed up as having gotten too obese.  It is a national disgrace.  In any event, the police rarely spent much effort on the disappearance of an adult woman.  You would be surprised at how many women run away from home each year.  Oh, of course there is always the odd story on a slow news day but we were never seriously bothered by the police.  Sometimes a husband or relative hired a private investigator, but with no use of her credit cards or social security number and no travel tickets or hotel rooms to be tracked down, there wasn’t really a trail to follow.

There were other more difficult cases.  These came about when a master, or more often a mistress (women can be vicious), wanted a particular woman snatched.  Often a rival in business or for a man, these women required more study to ensure a smooth kidnapping.  I haven’t done a study but it seems to me that women are much crueler than men, especially if the slave had offended them in some manner, real or imaginary.  Of course the organization was well reimbursed for the additional time spent studying the subject’s normal activity patterns, and figuring out how to capture the target.

A third, smaller, group was when a customer, generally a male this time, ordered a specific physical type.  Often this involved larger breasts which, while possible with some young women, were often easier to find on slightly more mature women.  As with the individual women this involved selecting a target and then studying her habits.  Since there was a wider range of targets available it was a less expensive undertaking than snatching a specific person but more costly than a general target.

That is, of course, a relative statement.  While a slave might be more or less expensive all of the ultimate clients were very wealthy people.  Not only did our services cost a great deal, but housing and maintaining a slave in a location that was both secure and secluded was a very expensive undertaking.  Of course, I wasn’t involved in any of this while I was in the procurement business.  I just delivered the victims, gagged and bound to a safe house.  I didn’t know the details, of course, but these seemed to be rented homes and the location changed every few months.

After several years of faithful service in procurement, my future boss approached me and asked if I would be open to moving up in the organization.  The next step was to become a trainer.  This involved a whole new set of duties.  The boss was very clear and specific as to how these duties were to be performed.  As the junior trainer I was paired with a more experienced man to do the pick ups.  We had a large box body truck fitted with a series of narrow holding tubs in the rear.  We went to whichever safe house was currently in service and picked up from one to three women.  In each case the hog-tie was tightened, their gags and blindfolds were checked and they were hoisted into the truck and placed in one of the narrow holding tubs.  The tubs cover was pulled down, compressing the woman’s legs even more and latched into place.

This wasn’t cruelty (though there was plenty of that to come) but served to ensure that each woman unloaded at the training facility had stiff cramped muscles and wasn’t in any shape to fight back as we bound her for processing.  The processing was almost ritualistic.  The boss wanted to use humiliation to break down each woman’s resistance.

In Processing

First we hoisted out a woman and took her to a receiving room.  These rooms were equipped with embedded eyes for ropes, a drain in the floor, a supply cabinet, some tie down frames, a large mirror and no windows.  The hog tie was released and the woman hauled to her feet, facing the mirror, with her ankles still bound.  Her wrists were released and then fastened to eye bolts in the ceiling of the room.  This pulled her arms out to her side and slightly above shoulder level but wasn’t a particularly stringent tie.  The idea, the boss assured me, was to give her enough freedom of movement to encourage her to fight against the indignities that would be inflicted on her.  Eventually, as we ignored her attempts, she would come to realize that resisting was futile.

Having secured her arms we would then remove the blindfold allowing her to see where she was imprisoned.  Then I would unfasten her ankles and re-fasten them about three feet apart.  Again, nothing too strenuous.  While doing that I would remove her shoes and toss them negligently aside.  If she was wearing socks, as many younger women were, they also came off at that time.  If she was wearing stockings or panty hose, that would wait until later.

Having secured her I would remove the ball gag and go over to the supply cabinet for a medium-sized penis gag.  Depending on the woman she would curse at me and demand her release or ask what I was going to do to her.  I remained silent as though she had said nothing.

When she saw me return with the penis gag she generally would try to clamp her mouth shut and twist her head aside.  Of course this did no good as I clamped her nostrils shut and twisted her head to the front by pulling her sensitive nose.  Some of the tougher ones tried to keep their teeth clamped shut and breathe through them but pressing my boot clad foot over her bare toes usually forced an open mouth scream.  Of course I took advantage of this to force the penis gag into her mouth.  Some feisty women tried to stop full insertion by biting down on the penis gag (no doubt wishing they could do that to me) but with my knee in her back and each hand pulling on a strap the gag was forced fully into the woman’s mouth and tightly buckled behind her head.  Lesson number one in the futility of resisting.

The next step was to strip her.  Here the boss was adamant.  There was a routine and a process to be followed.  First no garments were removed easily, they were all slowly cut off.  We started with the woman’s top.  Even if it was a blouse, we ignored the buttons and slowly cut from the hem to the neck.  This was followed by cutting from the cuff to the neck so that the top fell at her feet, so many useless rags.  The point, my boss said, was for her to realize that there was no going back.  Similarly, even if her bra was one with a front close, we cut it open between the cups and then, one by one, cut the straps.  Another useless rag on the floor.

At this point the boss had us increase the woman’s humiliation by fondling her breasts.  I enjoyed cupping and gently squeezing them and telling her that her body no longer belonged to her.  While this was part of the process to the boss, it was really a benefit for me.  I quite enjoyed playing with her breasts.  It is really quite amazing how, while similar, each pair is different and, to me at least, rather exciting.  Some less than others of course.  Some of the larger breasts seemed almost like udders, but in general I really enjoyed exploring the woman’s chest. Of course, being a man who loved women I wouldn’t just play with their breasts.  I would caress their graceful necks, nibble on their ear lobes and run my hand over their oh-so-inviting shoulders.  Sooner or later, despite her horror at her treatment, her nipples would respond and I could gently pinch and roll them, pointing out how much her body was responding to my touch and telling her that she must really enjoy being tied and stripped for my pleasure.  Reactions varied from blushing to angry head shaking denial but it really didn’t matter.  This was lesson two in her body belonging to me.

After I had enjoyed her top it was time to cut off whatever she was wearing below the waist.  As with the top I made certain she saw her clothing shredded so that there was no chance of her ever wearing ‘her’ things again.  Occasionally if she was wearing full cut panties I would delay their removal by cutting across her abdomen from leg opening to leg opening.  This left her with the waist band still in place while the gusset dangled uselessly exposing her most intimate place to my groping hands.  Eventually I would snip off the last remaining bit and she would be nude before me.  At this point I returned to fondling her.  I groped her buns, stroked her inner thighs cupped her mound and eventually inserted my fingers into her.  Again the point of the exercise was to emphasize that I could do anything I wanted and that her body would respond to me, not act as she wanted it to.  Occasionally I might bring her to orgasm but that was when I misjudged her body’s reaction.  What I tried to do was leave her panting on the edge of orgasm.

After I had enjoyed myself it was time to continue the processing.  The two ropes to her arms that ran through the eye bolts were joined together and then connected to a winch.  Pressing a button I stretched her out to her full height.  Pressing a button a digital camera took a picture of her and imposed a height scale.  I ran the hoist further until she was off the floor and the built in scale gave us an accurate weight.  With her arms stretched above her it was easy to insert a clean needle and draw a blood sample.  Leaving her hanging I walked it down to the lab where we would test for STDs as well as any drugs.  We wanted to ensure that every slave we sold was clean and healthy.

Returning to the receiving room I let her down until her feet were again solidly on the floor.  We had a spray gun with some sort of white lotion.  I don’t know if it was the commercial depilatory (like Nair) or if it was something the organization had dreamed up on its own.  What I do know is that we sprayed this stuff over every inch of her body from the neck down.  It had to stay in place for about a quarter of an hour and then I used a garden hose (cold water) to spray it off.  I inspected her carefully including her ass and her pussy to ensure that all the hair had been removed.  Of course she could tell that her body had lost all of its hair and she could see her groin fully exposed in the mirror.

The next steps were really humiliating as I would insert a catheter into her bladder.  Not only was this painful, it overcame her natural control of her body and let her urine drain onto the floor.  One more bodily function lost to our control.

As you probably have guessed by now the next step was a series of enemas.  We had a nozzle that is called a bardal.  It was inserted with some Vaseline but very little regard for her comfort.  Once in her a bulb was used to pump up the bladder inside of her sphincter so that none of the fluids or fecal matter could be expelled by her.  After all, she was no longer the mistress of her bodily functions.  Rather than rely on gravity, we had a pump that forced fluid into her until her belly bulged.  We deliberately waited a full fifteen minutes before releasing the air and removing the nozzle.

While this was a quarter of an hour of my time it undoubtedly seemed much longer to her.  The enema, especially a very large one such as this, caused all sorts of internal cramping.   The natural reaction is to bend forward to relive the cramps but, of course, that was prevented by her bonds.  While I was waiting for time to pass, I used a scalpel to make a slight cut in one of her arms.  Into this I pushed a white stick of what I understood to be something called Norform or something like that.  It was a slow release medicine that ensured no pregnancies for the next six months no matter how many times she was violated.

After the appointed period I released the air in the bladder inside her allowing her to expel the nozzle, fluid and fecal matter.  The woman was absolutely devastated when I wiped off the nozzle and unceremoniously jabbed it back into her.  A few quick pumps and we were ready for a second enema.  Actually she was given a total of three enemas even though it rarely took more than two to ensure that her bowels were quite empty.

As you might imagine the woman’s legs and the floor were messy by the time we were done so it was back to the garden hose and rinse her down and clean the floor washing the mess into the drain.  I would usually take the opportunity to masturbate the woman with the water flow while cleaning her off.  Many people think water from a hose comes out in a stream but it is actually a series of individual drops following one another so closely that the human eye thinks it is a solid stream.  Properly directed this pulsing series of drops is every bit as effective in stimulating a woman’s clitoris as a vibrator.  It is great fun as well, as she struggles to control her body eventually loosing control as she orgasms.  One more body function which is mine, not hers to control.

After that I clip the catheter shut so that there will be no more dribbles of urine and replace the nozzle on the garden house with one of those car wash wands.  I am certain you have seen them.  They are a long hollow plastic rod with a liquid soap container on one end and a rotating brush on the other.  When screwed on a garden hose the user can deliver either soapy or clear rinse water through the rotating brush.  The brush provides scrubbing action and can be a bit uncomfortable, especially if applied to the groin, still inflamed from the recent stimulation of the orgasm.  Being a nice guy I generally began with her ass and back and then her legs.  Eventually I got to lather those breasts and watch the nipples become rock hard and then work my way down to her groin.  After thoroughly soaping up my slave, I rinsed her scrubbing her skin until (if she was white) she glowed a rosy pink.

As you can imagine the slave was pretty exhausted by this time and generally hung limply in her bonds.  That was fine with me as it gave me time to clean up the used needles and store the equipment while she dried in the air.

Evaluation

During this long drawn out processing I had also been carefully observing the woman.  While all of the women we took were going to become slaves there were two special types that we were constantly looking out for.  The first were true submissives and the second were candidates for ponygirl.  Women in either category were highly prized and brought premium prices.

Even the most submissive woman fought this abrupt kidnapping and humiliation, at least at first.  During the entire process I had been observing her reactions.  Was she turned on by being tied and stripped?  Were her nipples already hard when her bra was cut off?  Was she wet, or at least moist when her panties were cut off?  Did she, almost involuntarily thrust her hips when her groin was being groped?  How long did she struggle?  All of these were indicators.  Of course if the woman showed signs of being a submissive this wasn’t yet positive proof.  We would have to verify this by monitoring her closely during her training, but still it was a good start.

For ponygirls the selection was more difficult.  It began with body type.  We wanted long legs and a muscular almost athletic frame.  She needed to have breasts large enough to be attractive but not so large as to make running without support difficult.  Oh I know you can force a large busted woman to run but bouncing breasts, beyond a certain point, simply cause a constant pain and distraction and prevent the steed from that effortless stride that marks a good team of matched ponygirls.  The biggest thing, of course is stamina and spirit.  We invest quite a bit in pony girl training and don’t want to waste it.  Assuming the body type is roughly O.K., the woman’s stance after the three enemas and after the subsequent orgasm and wash down provides clues to both.  Most women are hanging limply from the ropes by that time but a few are still on their feet with defiance in their eyes.  That is a strong indicator of good ponygirl material.

In any case, once the woman has dried off I fasten her hands behind her and take her into the dormitory where the other slaves in training sleep.  I think that up until the newly taken slaves see the others they think that they have been abducted by a single person and that they are the only one.  We usually have six to eight slaves going through training at any one time and it is often only after they see the others chained down on their sleeping pallets that they realize that they are in the grip of a sizable organization and that escape is not likely.

In the dorm I steered her to a vacant bed.  It was number seven.  I pushed the woman down and fastened her in a tight spread eagle.  Since it was bed number seven I used a magic marker to mark that number on her forehead.  Most of the others were also fastened in tight face up spread eagles but two slaves had apparently displeased their trainers and were fastened in more uncomfortable positions.

Number 3 must have really been bad because her trainer had fastened her to the bed with a tight belt at her chest just under her breasts, with her hands stretched to the upper corners of the bed in the normal manner.  He had then drawn her ankles up and fastened them near her wrists.  Her ass showed signs that it had been whipped but the worst part of her treatment was the very strained position she was in.  This imposed a severe and painful curve in her back which would become increasingly painful as the night wore on.

Number 6, on the bed next to the slave I was dealing with, stood at the foot of her bed with her ankles and knees lashed to the foot of the bed.  Her hands were fastened together in front of her and stretched toward the front of the bed.  This wasn’t too uncomfortable but left her bent over with her breasts dangling toward the bed and both her pussy and her ass exposed for use by any trainer who happened by.  At the moment Bruno was enthusiastically using her ass while squeezing her breasts and pulling on them to help force himself into her.

I nodded to Bruno and got a sign to hang over the end of seven’s bed warning that her blood test results had not yet come back.  This was necessary as trainers often wanted to try the ‘fresh’ ones and any trainer was generally welcome to mount any of the tied down slaves.  I decided that I would give seven something to think about during her first night in captivity so I got an electric vibrating dildo and plugged it into her and into the socket at the foot of the bed.  I switched it on medium and watched as the vibrations slowly aroused her.  I always thought that women in heat were a lovely sight.  I was amused as I watched seven try to fight the effect of the vibrator.  I asked her “Would you like to come for me?”  Of course she couldn’t answer with the penis gag still in her mouth but she glared at me and shook her head vigorously.  I smiled down at her and said “But what you want doesn’t matter.  It really isn’t your choice.”  Then I sat on the edge of the bed and slid my fingers to her clitoris.  With my free hand I turned up the vibrator while gently rolling and squeezing her clit.  She tried so hard to resist the sensations taking over her body.  Of course it was futile and in the end she came explosively.  I decided to leave her something to think about and left the vibrator in place though I did turn it down to low.

I left her there while I went off to report to the boss.

Chapter 2 – Pony Girl Training

Selection

In the morning I came back to seven’s bed.  Last night the boss and I had discussed the new slave and the boss had agreed that seven was a good candidate for a ponygirl.  I had been successful with training ponygirls in the past and the boss decided that seven was mine.  I was a little different than the other trainers as I believed that kindness and rewards could go a long way in training a slave.  Most of the trainers felt that this was at best a waste of time and at worst a serious mistake.  They preferred straight out brutality until the slave was broken.  My way did take longer but it resulted, I thought, in a better slave, obedient to the master, but still with unbroken spirit.  Apparently the boss agreed with me as she told me to take over the training of seven.

She?  You are surprised that the boss was a she.  I told you that females are the more vicious and cruel of the two sexes.  It only made sense that the boss at the compound (as we called it) was a woman.  Her name was Catherine (no Cathy or Kate here) Beaumont and she was one tough cookie.  While I preferred gentle training methods with just enough pain to ensure maximum effort, most of the trainers were more like Bruno who had something of a sadistic streak.

I went to seven’s bed and smiled at her.  She looked pretty frazzled.  I asked again “Would you like to come for me?”  I got a flash of anger followed by a resignation to the inevitable.  She, rather sadly, nodded her head.  During the night her blood work had come back clean so I pulled the vibrator from her pussy and applied my lips.  This was done very gently.  The vibrator had kept her outer lips inflamed and turgid and her entire crotch was swollen and overly sensitive.  She was very surprised when I did this and accepted my mouth as waves of pleasure rolled over her hyper excited body.

While she was still in the throes of her orgasm I loosened her right wrist and untied her left wrist.  With the help of my arm around her back I was able to lift her to a sitting position.  Using two plastic ties I cuffed her left wrist to her right elbow.  Then I released her right wrist and cuffed it to her left elbow.  Leaving her sitting up on her bed I went to the supply cabinet and found a leather sleeve.  Returning to seven I tightly laced it around her forearms.  Once her arms were secured across the small of her back I released her ankles and helped her to stand.

I said “I am going to remove your gag so that we can talk quietly but any nonsense from you and back in it goes.”

I removed her gag and gave her a glass of water.  Then holding one arm I led her to the toilet area and unclipped her catheter tube.  After her bladder had drained I re-clipped the tube and led her toward the mess hall area.  She asked if she could speak, a good sign, and when I had assented she asked “What are you people going to do to me?”

I smiled reassuringly and said, “You are now a slave and will be trained to behave properly.  Actually, you are luckier than most slaves, because you are going to be trained as a ponygirl.”

When I saw the puzzled look on her face I explained, “A ponygirl is a very valuable slave trained to pull her master or mistress in a light two wheel sulky or teamed with one or more other ponies to pull a heavier load in a four wheel wagon.”

She frowned and said, “That’s horrible.  You are going to try to make me act like a beast of burden.  That’s unfair and I won’t do it.”

I smiled and said, “Well, I can’t argue that it isn’t unfair but life is generally unfair.  Now listen carefully to me.  I understand that this is all new to you but you must never say you won’t do what a master tells you to do.  You will only wind up being punished for disobedience.  Most punishments are very painful and in the end you will be forced to do exactly what you were told to do in the first place.  If you have any sense at all, you will work at pleasing your masters with your obedience and avoiding the pain they can inflict.  That’s why you are lucky to be trained as a ponygirl.”

I could see that she was thinking over what I said.  She asked, “Why is being a ponygirl lucky?”

“Well, they are very highly trained and as a result are very expensive.  When a master or mistress invests in a ponygirl he or she generally doesn’t mistreat her.  She is just too valuable a possession.”  I said.  Now I know that this isn’t strictly true.  Some owners are just nasty with any slave, but I always try to make each slave I train feel good about what is happening to her.  Well, as good as she can, given the circumstances.

I went on by saying, “Some slaves are sold to owners who get their pleasure from tormenting the slave or from whipping her.  Those sort of owners don’t usually buy ponygirls because their slaves don’t last long enough to justify the cost.”

By this time we had reached the mess hall.  On the table in front of her was a bowl of dry wheat checks cereal and another bowl of water.  I sat her down and indicated the cereal saying, “Dig in.  That’s good roughage for you.”

Seeing her just stare at the bowl I said a little more forcefully, “Bend forward and get your mouth into the bowl, we don’t have all morning.”

She just looked at the cereal and said, “No, I don’t want to eat like an animal.”

She hadn’t finished the sentence when I swung my riding crop hard across her breast.  She screamed.  There was a bright red line across her breast.  She looked at me, shocked at what I had done but I just said, “I warned you not to refuse an order.  I try to be kind and gentle with the slaves but if you want to do it the hard way there are plenty more where that came from.”

Fortunately seven got over the shock and put her mind to work.  She realized the futility of refusing and she bent forward and began to chew up the dry cereal.  It took her a few moments to figure out how to use her tongue to scoop the cereal into her mouth and how to lap up the water but she caught on and was soon munching away.

In fact I do try to be kind and gentle.  I think it works better when the slave trusts her master and tries to please him.  I really like the slaves I deal with and generally grow quite fond of them.  Still I know the routine and always turn out well trained slaves.  That’s why the boss puts up with me and lets me train in my own way.

Ringing the Pony

When she had finished I helped her up and led her down the hall by her arm.  She didn’t know it but we were going to get her ringed.  I took her into the lab room and got her seated in one of the chairs with her arms still bound behind her.  I secured her with straps over her thighs and around her chest below her breasts.  Then I brought in the head side pieces so that she couldn’t turn her head.

When the technician came over I told her, “Standard pony girl set.”  Then I turned back to seven and pulled her jaw down opening her mouth.  The technician picked up a set of forceps and gripped seven’s tongue.  Then she pulled it out and handed the forceps to me.  I could see the panic in seven’s eyes so I tried to reassure her.  “Relax!  This is no worse than having your ears pierced.  Lots of people do this for decoration.”

While I was talking the technician wiped the tip of seven’s tongue dry and applied the piercing pliers.  One quick press, insert the stainless steel stud with the ball on the bottom and threads on the top through the hole, screw down the square top piece and it was done.  I released the forceps and seven was able to take her tongue back into her mouth with the strange (to her) new shaft.

We use a square top to the pony girl tongue stud because that mates into the square hole in the bit gag she would be wearing soon.  The slave tried to say something like ‘no more, please, no more’ but she wasn’t used to the stud yet and her words were slurred and indistinct.  Oh well, ponies aren’t expected to talk, are they?  In actual point of fact once the slave was used to the stud she would be able to communicate perfectly well.

I loosened the head pieces.  They had served their purpose in holding seven’s head steady while we worked on her tongue and now I allowed her that little bit of freedom.  In fact it let her watch while we did her nipples.  The technician sprayed some sore of gas over the nipples the deaden them.  I think it used to be freon but we are environmentally correct these days, even in our criminal enterprises.  At any rate it was some new gas that acted as a local anesthetic.  Then it was grab the nipple with the forceps, pull it well out from the chest, a quick squeeze through the nipple and in goes the stainless steel ring.  Standard for pony girls was a 3” ring for each nipple to facilitate the attachment of reins.  Shift sides and the other nipple was just as quick.

While the technician cleaned the slight trickle of blood with an antiseptic, I took the two ends of the ring with pliers and bent them until they lined up ready for soldering.  The rings were twisted apart when inserted to make it easier to thread them through the wounds but would now be soldered shut.  Now soldering stainless steel requires quite a bit of heat so a second spray of the local anesthetic was required.  While damp tissues were used on either side of the solder joint as a heat sink some of the heat traveled into the nipple but I had been assured that this actually promoted the prompt healing of the piercing.

Once soldered the technician used a cool rag to remove the last of the heat from the nipple rings.  Now it was just a matter of smoothing the solder joints so that they became invisible and buffing out the marks caused by the torch.  When finished the cleaning stainless rings would have no visible joint and would just be a smooth strong circle through seven’s nipples.

While we were in the lab the two other women we had picked up last night had been led into the lab.  One of then had nipple rings installed.  That was pretty much it for most slaves unless the master or mistress asked for additional piercing.  One of the most popular was a tongue piercing and it supposedly enhanced oral sex.  Another was a small ring installed in the hood of the woman’s clitoris.  The weight of this ring was supposed to constantly tug at the slave’s clit and keep her in a perpetual state of arousal.

The third woman from last night was apparently a specific revenge kidnapping.  First she appeared to be a bit older than the women we normally took.  Second her ringing was nothing short of brutal.  In addition to nipple rings and a tongue piercing she had ten small pussy rings, five in each lip.  Once installed and buffed a set of ben-wa balls was inserted into her and a long stud with a ring on the bottom was threaded through all ten rings sealing her pussy except for the catheter tube.  The top of the stud was fastened with a screw on ball too large to pass through the rings.  To the bottom ring of the stud a string of bells was clipped so that they swung and tugged at the women while they jingled merrily with each step she took.  As a final very visibly insult a ring was inserted into her septum so that she could be led around by her nose.  I had seen this done occasionally to pony girls but this woman was clearly not young enough or strong enough for that sort of work.  She was, not doubt in for considerable misery with who ever had ordered this brutal treatment.

I had waited with freeing seven to let her see that things could be worse.  I think the point was well made as her eyes reflected horror at what had been done to the third woman and she had nothing to say as I freed her from the chair.

The Tack Room

It was time to dress seven in her pony gear.  Of course, once purchased her master might have some elaborate rig he preferred, but here we had a standard set used for training and offered with the girl when she was sold.  I led seven to a stall in the barn and casually fastened her to one wall by clipping a lead from the wall to a nipple ring.  The local anesthetic had worn off and these were very tender so seven very sensibly stood still.

“You may live in a stall like this when you are sold but here we just use it to store outfits.  You will go back to the mess area for meals and the dormitory for sleeping while you are in training.  Of course that all assumes you being a good slave and learning your lessons.  If you give me trouble there are a variety of uncomfortable places and positions to keep you out of trouble.”

I began by showing seven her shoes, though I referred to them as hoofs.  The soles were metal horseshoes below a leather sole for her foot and a sort of cap that would hold her toes and the ball of her foot.  Behind this was a wide shaft that would force her feet up as though there was a tall heel.  At the end of the shaft was a bump that would be under her heel.  I pointed out the bump and said, “The purpose of these hoof is to keep you on the balls of your feet at all times.  If you let your weight come down on the back of your foot this bump will hit the bottom of you heel and be painful.”

I strapped the hoofs on one at a time.  Of course she was a bit wobbly and let her weight down a time or two but the bump under her heel was designed to be very painful and she quickly corrected herself each time.  “Good girl!” I told her patting her rump.

The next item was a waist cincher.  This slave was still a bit feisty and asked sarcastically, “Do you really think I need a waist cincher?”

I smiled and answered, “No, I don’t.  You have a lovely figure.  The waist cincher is necessary however to attach the traces for the wagon or cart you will pull.  In addition to providing attachment places it spreads the load over a good portion of your torso.  You will find that owners use all sorts of fancy rigs, some nothing more than leather straps, but this rig will help you while you are still in training.”  While I was talking I was getting the laces pulled tightly around her.

“Oh, my god!  You really are going to make me be a horse, aren’t you?”

“A pony!” I corrected.  Then I smiled at seven and said, “Have I ever lied to you?”  I really liked this woman.  It wouldn’t do to get too attached to her I reminded myself.

The next item was a posture collar.  As I applied it I thought it was a shame to hide that lovely graceful neck that looked as though it was made for gentle caresses and kisses.  Once it was fastened seven found that she couldn’t move her head either from side to side or down beyond a few inches.  Then I took a scrunchy and pulled her hair through it forming… of course… a pony tail.  This was followed by a head harness with blinders limiting seven’s vision.

I picked up the bit gag and said, “Open!”  For a moment I thought she was going to balk but her common sense won over and she opened her mouth.  Aligning the opening in the bit with the square head of her tongue piercing I then fastened the gag to her head harness.  I think she tried to protest how tightly the bit was pulling at the sides of her mouth but with the bit gag distorting her lips and holding her tongue in a fixed position she wasn’t able to say anything intelligibly.

I walked over and picked up a butt plug with a long brown tail protruding from the base.  I greased it up and held it up in front of her blindered face.  “This isn’t a bad match for your hair so we will use this in training.  Before you leave we will have one custom matched to your hair color so that both pony tails match perfectly.”

I think she was more interested in the size of the butt plug than in the hair color and she tried to step back.  The tug on her nipple reminded her of her situation and she stepped back forward to relieve the pressure on her nipples.  I lubed the butt plug and told her, “This will hurt less if you bend forward and relax.”  Reluctantly seven did as I said and I slowly slid the plug into her trying to be as gentle as I could.  Despite that she grunted as the large plug finally slid home.

Though the plug narrowed at the base and allowed her sphincter to contract holding it in place, there were a few more straps.  The first went from the base of the butt plug to the rear of the waist cincher.  Then I had seven stand and spread her legs.  She grunted as she straightened up and felt the butt plug shift inside her.  I then took a thin strap with a loop more or less in the center and knelt before seven’s hairless pussy.  Spreading her outer lips I found her clitoris and licked at it for a few minutes.  Of course it grew turgid and emerged from its sheath.

When I stopped licking seven grunted in frustration.  I slipped the loop in the strap over her clit and tightened it at the base preventing her clitoris from shrinking back into its sheath.  Then I fastened the ends of the strap, one to the butt plug and the other to the front of the waist cincher.  Now when ever seven moved, not only would the butt plug shift within her the strap would tug at her clitoris.

The final step in dressing seven, if it can be called that, was the reins.  These ran from behind her through the large rings on either side of her bit gag and then down to the rings in her nipples.  I unsnapped the lead holding her to the wall and said, “You need to get used to trusting your driver and following the commands of the reins.  I know you nipples are very sensitive and I will try to be very gentle but you must pay attention and respond promptly or your nipples will get very painfully tugged.  This is stop if you are moving or back up if you are standing.”  I gently tugged both reins and she obediently backed up until I let the reins go slack.

“Right and left are pretty obvious and this is go forward or speed up if you are already moving.”  I said as I flicked her ass with the free end of the reins.  As I said seven was an intelligent woman and despite the new hoofs and the butt plug in her ass and the strap tugging at her clit she responded to my signals and we moved from the stall towards the exercise room.  Here I led her to a step machine.

The Gym

I helped her climb onto the machine and ran a bungee cord from one nipple ring around an eye on the top of the machine and back to her other nipple.  The nice thing about the large nipple rings we use is that I didn’t have to unfasten the reins to clip on the bungee cord.  I explained to seven, “It is important for a ponygirl to lift her thighs parallel to the ground with each step.  This machine will help you do that and also help to develop your endurance.”

As I said this I fastened an electrical lead to her butt plug.  Then I told her that I would adjust the resistance and timer on the flashing lights on the front of the machine.  Each time the right light went out she had to have her right hoof fully in the up position or the machine would send an electrical shock to her rectum.  The same thing with the left light and the left hoof.  Then I started her out with a slow cadence and very little resistance.  When I saw she had the hang of things I sped up the cadence.  This caught her by surprise and gave her a couple of nasty shocks which she protested with loud shrieks before she was able to get back in sync with the machine.  Once she was back in the proper rhythm, I stepped up the resistance so that she had to push a bit harder and left her to her exercise.

It was getting close to lunch time so I went to the mess hall and ate my lunch.  My pony girl would have a liquid lunch (like a slim fast) so I brought seven’s lunch back to the gym with me.  I had taken nearly an hour and seven’s body was gleaming with sweat as she pumped away at the stair machine.  She was obviously tired but this was only her first day of training.  I couldn’t help but admire her spirit as well as her body as she struggled to avoid painful shocks.  She would make a good pony girl.

I stopped the machine, unplugged the electrical lead, freed her breasts and helped her down from the machine.  She had worked up a good sweat but wasn’t breathing too hard which suggested that seven had more stamina than most of the slaves we trained.  That was good because, as a pony girl, she would need it.

I took one of the large rough terry cloth towels kept in the gym and began to wipe her down.  Her legs were beautifully formed. I deliberately didn’t go too high on her thighs as I didn’t want to touch her very sensitive clit.  I stood in front of her and gently patted her dry.  I must admit that I couldn’t resist a bit of fondling when I got to her breasts.  She stated to step back but I looked her in the eyes and shook my head while giving a sharp tug on the nearest nipple.  Her eyes flashed but, sensible slave that she was, she stepped back forward and, in what little show of defiance she could make, she pulled her shoulders back and thrust her breasts out toward me.

I smiled and nodded and resumed my fondling.  I made certain to gently wipe the nubby terry cloth over her hard nipples.  Then I moved behind her to wipe down her back.  With the sweat cleaned off of her I decided to reward her efforts so I wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her back so that her ass rubbed against me.  The other hand drifted down to her turgid clitoris where just a few moments of rubbing brought her an orgasm.  “See, good little ponies can be rewarded for their efforts,” I murmured into her ear.

I held the can of diet drink up before her so that she could see what it was.  Then I opened the pop top and inserted a straw.  I told seven, “I know it is thick, but it is very important for a good slave to suck strongly.  I want you to empty this can quickly.”

After lunch I put her on a treadmill.  To keep her high stepping I strapped a little measuring device on each thigh. It was nothing elaborate, just something I had invented myself.  It was a curved tube the bottom end sealed.  The upper end had two contacts and inside was a metal ball.  I had her lift her thigh until it was parallel to the floor and adjusted the straps holding the tube.  The idea was that when she lifted her leg high enough the ball touched both contacts and sent a signal to the control unit that no shock was required.  Each leg was fitted and the shock cord was plugged into her anal plug.

Once I had done that I tied a loop from each arm to the front of the machine.  Normally I would have used her nipple clips but on a treadmill I wanted to avoid any pulling on the new piercing.  This wasn’t a problem with the stair stepper but with a treadmill there was a real danger she would lose ground, especially since this was her first day.

I explained this to her and started the machine at a slow walk.  Once I was certain she had the hang of lifting her leg high enough with each step I turned the machine up to a normal walk.  I left her walking for half an hour and then said “O. K. Let’s try a trot.”  She tried to protest but the sound that came out actually sounded like a horse’s whinny.  I turned the speed up and watched as she got back into the rhythm high stepping nicely.  It did take several shocks before she was able to handle it and I only trotted her for about five minutes.  After that I slowed it down to normal walking pace.  I thought seven looked magnificent.  Her body gleamed with sweat her chest heaved as she regained her breath and her legs flashed up and down beautifully.

We went on this way for the better part of two hours with her walking for about half an hour then trotting for five minutes or so and then walking again.  At the end of the two hours I stopped the machine and took her off of it and removed the sensors.  After wiping her down and giving her two orgasms in the process (that little loop around her clit really put her on edge, almost constantly) it was almost time for oral sex classes.

Guiding her with the reins I walked her back to the class area.  I had to slash her thighs a couple of times when she didn’t lift them high enough but in general I was satisfied with seven’s behavior.  After all this was only the first day of her training.

We got there a few minutes early so I had her stand and watch while the other slaves assumed their positions on command.  You know, position one is sitting on your haunches knees spread open, back straight, shoulders back, palms on thighs, head straight but eyes downcast.  Position two is similar but kneeling up with ankles crossed and hands clasped behind you, Position three is standing, legs apart, hands clasped behind the neck with shoulders and elbows pulled back.

Well, I am not going through the entire repertory but you get the idea.  Most of these positions are impractical in pony gear so we don’t train pony girls for them.  Oral sex, however, with both sexes, is standard for all of the slaves.  The only thing that pony girls did differently was that they couldn’t use their hands as the other slaves did, but that really didn’t present much of an obstacle.  In any case I removed seven’s bit gag and blinders and left her with the other trainers and went off to report to the boss.

The boss wanted to know how seven was coming along.  Apparently there was a prospective purchaser.  I said that even with the ringing we had gotten a good three hours in at the gym on both the stair machine and treadmill.  In my view seven had done quite well.  She had adjusted to the hoofs, was responsive to the reins, didn’t balk at the blinders, showed good stamina, and had managed to trot as well as walk on the treadmill.  I explained that after a couple of more hours on the machines we would probably try some sulky (a light two wheel cart) time in the ring tomorrow and might even get to some cross country by the third day.  The boss was pleased and said that she would like to get some pictures for the prospective purchaser and I was to advise the boss when seven was going to be hooked to the sulky.

For reasons that will become clear later in this story, the boss’s wanting to take photos was actually good news for me.  I reminded the boss that I was scheduled to begin a month long vacation in two days.  She snarled at me but in the end agreed that I was entitled to my long scheduled vacation.

Chapter 3 – Punishments and Preparations

When I got back to the training room to pick up seven I saw that two of her classmates were being punished.  Bruno had tied one woman with her legs over a cross bar and her arms passing under the bar and then over her feet.  The bar had been lifted in the air and the woman’s weight hung from the back of her knees that were folded over the bar.  She couldn’t straighten her legs because her own arms held the legs in their tight bend.  This was a nasty position and it would grow worse as time went on.

Apparently she had refused to give Bruno oral sex during the class.  She now wore a ring gag and Bruno was fucking her face through the ring by grasping her breasts and pulling her in and out.  The punishment was made worse because Bruno had set a butt plug up on a stand and each time he pushed the woman back from his groin the plug penetrated the woman’s anus.  As he pulled her toward his groin forcing his penis deep into her mouth the butt plug was almost, but not quite, withdrawn.  Then Bruno reversed direction again.  I didn’t know how long this had been going on but I was pretty certain the woman would never refuse to give a blow job again.

The other punishment was simply a woman who was apparently reluctant in performing cunilingus.  She was on her knees and being forced to eat another slave while her trainer gave instructions accompanied by swatting the woman’s ass with a riding crop.  Apparently she was being timed on how long it took to bring the other woman to orgasm.  Since the other woman had already had several orgasms it looked as though the recalcitrant slave would be ‘practicing’ for some time to come.

I picked up seven’s leash and talked with one of the instructors.  Apparently she was actually pretty good at blow jobs and was competent at cunilingus once she had been prodded into overcoming her aversion to lesbian sex.  All in all a pretty satisfactory performance.  I led seven back to the shed to remove her pony gear, and washed her, leaving her arms still bound behind her back.  Then I took her to the mess hall area and shared my dinner with her feeding her with occasional bites from my steak.  Roughage and diet drinks are all very well but I wanted to feed her some protein as well.  Pony girls work hard and I wanted to keep up her strength.

I was tempted to tether her to her bed but in the end decided to take her to my quarters and tie her in my bed.  I led the way, reminding her to lift her thighs parallel to the ground with each step.  Once in my quarters I led her to the bathroom and drained her catheter.  Then I pulled back the covers on my bed and told her to lie face down.  I straddled her back sitting on her rump and untied her wrists and arms.  Gently I moved her stiff muscles so that her hands were stretched above her head.  I tied her hands together palm to palm and secured them to the top of the bed.  Then I began to massage her shoulders and back.  She moaned as I massaged away the stiff knots in her shoulders and arms.

Many of the trainers thought that this sort of pampering was ridiculous.  I on the other hand felt that a little pampering at the end of a long day of exercise was well worth it in future obedience from the slave.  In any case I like women and enjoyed the feel of seven’s body.  When I finished with her back I moved to the foot of the bed and went to work on her feet and calves.  She sighed and moaned as I worked the kinks out.  Eventually I worked my way up her thighs while pushing her legs apart and paying attention to her inner thighs and, of course, eventually to her pussy.

Having worked seven up I rolled her over on the bed and began to stroke and fondle her breasts.  She smiled appreciatively as I gently worked on her chest and then lowered my mouth to her nipples.  Eventually I spread her legs and brought my mouth to her pussy.  She was pretty well aroused by now and came fairly quickly.  Since I wanted her asleep to free me up for the rest of my planned evening I brought her off a second time and then slid into her.  It was, I suppose, rape, but at the moment at least she had no complaints.  I got my fingers busy on her clitoris and managed to hold back my own orgasm until she had come for a third time.  Then I lay down next to her and pulled the covers over us both.  I wrapped my arms around her for a post coital cuddle.

Seven asked me if she could speak and I told her to go ahead.  She said, “You are very gentle, not like those other guys.”

“But I still have to be obeyed.”

“Yes but you don’t beat on the girls the way the others do.  Just for fun.”

“I told you I try to be gentle.”

“I wish you could take me away with you.  I wouldn’t mind being your slave.”

Now this was pretty much expected.  It was true that I tried to be gentler than most of the others but almost every slave tried, at some point or another, to seduce her trainer.  It was just one of the stages we went through.  I told her that I didn’t have a place big enough to house a pony girl and that in any case no trainer in his right mind would run off with a slave after what had happened to Sven.  This, of course, got her curious and I had to tell her the story of Sven and his punishment.

Sven’s Story

Sven was a tall tough Nordic trainer who one day had fallen for a buxom Latina slave.  I don’t know if it was her dark complexion and jet black hair that contrasted so much with the blond, fair skin Nordic women Sven usually saw or if there was really something between them.  I do know that one evening he took off with the girl.  Cynthia was furious and drafted Bruno and me to join with her in tracking them down.  Apparently the organization had installed a vehicle locator in our cars (like the anti theft Lojack system) so that our cars could be tracked.  With me driving the van and Cynthia reading the tracking device we soon located Sven's car in a motel parking lot two counties east of the compound.  I picked the lock and we broke in finding Sven happily screwing the girl who had been tied in a loose spread eagle on the bed.  Before Sven realized we were in the room Bruno jammed the taser against his bare foot and zapped him.

Actually it zapped both of them as apparently enough of the current passed through his penis into her vagina to knock her out as well.  With the charge shared between two persons, and one of them as big as Sven, we weren’t certain how long they would be out.  It really didn’t matter though as Catherine was personally ratcheting steel cuffs onto his wrists, behind his back and metal leg irons with a short hobble on his ankles.  A large ball gag was stuffed into his mouth and Catherine then looped a piece of rope around his testicles with the other end tied to the hobble chain forcing him to draw up his knees.  When we started his toward the door he was unable to stand up and had to waddle to the van.

The girl was tied with rope in a strict hog tie with her ankles drawn up almost to her elbows and her wrists fastened to her knees.  She was also ball gagged and carried to the van.  Once we had them in the van both were tied down to opposite sides.  Bruno and I drove back to the compound while Catherine moved their gear into their car, checked them out of the motel, and then drove Sven’s car back to the compound.

The two captives were secured in the gym where they could see but not reach each other.  In the morning the entire staff was assembled to witness punishment along with the slaves in training.  The punishment was drastic.  I don’t know if it was Catherine’s idea or if it was dictated by someone higher in the organization but it was the boss who gave us the instructions.  First we tied ropes to each of Sven’s wrists and let these ropes to ratchet devices set on either side of the gym.  Then we took off the handcuffs and pulled his arms apart.  Now Sven was a strong guy but with Bruno pulling on one arm and me on the other and the ratchet device to give us additional leverage, Sven was soon flat on his back with his arms pulled out to the sides tightly enough so that he shoulders were almost dislocated.

Then Catherine tied ropes to each ankle.  Only then did she remove the hobbles and the rope to his testicles.  At her command we pulled Sven’s legs up and to the sides so that his body was off the ground and his weight rested on his shoulders and neck.  Then she had us pull his legs wide forcing him into a split.  Now men’s groins do not handle this well and Sven, whose gag had been removed, was crying out for mercy as we hauled on his legs.  Eventually the boss was satisfied and we tied off the ropes.

While Sven hung there in his upside down split, moaning in agony, Bruno and I went for the girl.  We untied her but placed ropes at her ankles and wrists and forced her to sit on Sven’s face.  Her legs led over his arms, her weight adding to his pain and we wrapped her legs around his torso leading the ropes back behind her where we tied them off.  Then we did the same with her arms so that she was now hugging herself to Sven with her pussy on his face and her face at his wide spread groin.

The boss told Sven to “Get busy!” and encouraged him by swatting his testicles.  He roared in pain but it was pretty muffled by the woman on his face.  Apparently he responded as we could hear him slurping away at her pussy.  Eventually the woman came but the boss just said “Again!”  While this was going on she braided a rope into the woman’s hair and pulled her head down towards Sven’s penis.  “Suck him off.” She commanded.  This the woman proceeded to do and we could see Sven growing rigid despite the pain he was in.

Now all of this sounds nasty but it wasn’t until Sven was fully rigid and lodged in the woman’s mouth that the boss showed just what was planned.  Pulling the rope to the woman’s head she forced her down on Sven’s rigid prick.   The woman didn’t have enough room to move his tool out of her mouth.  The boss stood on the rope to ensure the woman couldn’t lift her head.  At this point the boss tied a rope under the woman’s chin and over the top of her head.  Then she inserted a short stick into the loop and began to twist.  Each twist tightened the loop and forced the woman’s mouth further closed.

The woman realized what was happening and tried to pull her head back but was prevented by the rope in her hair.  She tried to get Sven’s prick out of her mouth but in its turgid state she couldn’t get it past her cheek.  Slowly the boss continued to tighten the loop until, inevitably, the woman was biting down on Sven’s cock.  He roared in pain and may even have bit her pussy to try to stop her but it was no use.  The boss continued to twist the stick forcing the woman’s mouth closed biting through Sven’s cock.  There was blood running out of her mouth and she was trying frantically to resist but to no avail.  Eventually her teeth met biting through his penis.

At that point the boss took out a scalpel and castrated Sven, causing even more blood to flow from his groin.  Then she pushed the woman’s nose down into the bloody opening where his testicles had been.  I don’t really know if the woman suffocated or drowned in the blood but she soon died.  Sven took longer to bleed out but eventually he also died in agony.  The staff and slaves were sent to their regular training duty and Bruno and I had the messy job of running the bodies through the wood chipper and cleaning up the mess in the gym.

I looked at seven who had been silent during the entire tale.  Her eyes were wide in horror.  The story of Sven was, of course, pure fabrication.  In there was a grain of truth.  There had been a trainer named Sven who ran off with a girl.  We never did find out if it was because he wanted her for his own slave or if he actually liked her.  The organization caught them and brought them back.  Sven was quickly and efficiently killed and the girl was returned to the training stable.

The horrific story developed over time as a way to counteract the slave trainee’s tendency to bond with her trainer.  Once told the ghastly story of Sven they tended to be too revolted and frightened to try seduction on their trainers.  In any case I stroked seven for a bit and told her that no one had ever tried to leave with a slave after than and that as much as I liked her I wasn’t about to try.  I kept stroking her body and eventually slid her into another orgasm.  Though horrified at my story, the exertions of the day took their toll on seven and she soon drifted off to sleep.

I Sneak Around

I on the other hand had things to do.  I slipped out of bed and got dressed.  Checking around the compound I saw that the lights were out in the boss’s office.  I picked up my lock picks, some latex gloves and a small pen light and headed over that way being careful to stay in the shadows.  This was the most dangerous part of my plan.

I put on the gloves and let myself into the boss’s office, locking the door behind me.  Fortunately she had heavy shutters on the windows that would block most of the light from showing outside.  To be on the safe side, however, I didn’t turn on any lights; I just used the small pen light in my mouth.

I had already discovered the Achilles heel in the boss’ security.  As with many busy people she had trouble remembering passwords and pass codes.  Taped to the underside of one of her desk drawers was a slip of paper with her computer password, the name and code for the compound’s bank account and the number and pass code for her personal Swiss bank account.

Using the pen light I cleared out the drawer keeping everything on top of the desk in the same order as it had been in the drawer so that it could be replaced.  I turned on the computer and, while it booted up, removed the drawer and turned it over.  I carefully copied the information on the boss’s Swiss account.  When the computer was up I entered her password and then accessed the organization’s bank account.  It took only a few key strokes to empty the compound’s operating account and send the money to the boss’ Swiss account.  I knew that the transaction would be easy to trace and that it would look as though she had stolen the money.

Having placed that false trail I shut down the computer, replaced the drawer and its contents, turned off the pen light, opened the door and left the office locking it securely behind me.  I slipped back to my quarters and got into bed without waking seven.  Now I just had to wait until late afternoon and hope that the money transfer wasn’t noticed until after that.

In the Morning

The next morning I took seven back to her slave quarters and had her munch her dry wheat cereal and water.  Taking her over to the bathroom I emptied her catheter and gave her a quick fleet enema and then took her to the stall where I dressed her in her pony girl rig as she had been yesterday.  Her piercings were pretty well healed so I clipped the leash to her breast rings and took her to the gym for a solid four hours of exercise.  So far there was no sign of unusual activity.

At lunch Bruno teased me about having taken seven to my quarters accusing me of wanting to hoard her.  I promised that I would have her in the slave dormitory that night and told him that she was particularly good in bed.  None of this was greeted with enthusiasm from seven but she was too intelligent to voice any protest.

After lunch I hooked seven to a pony trap and worked her around the ring a few times.  It was time to fetch the boss for her picture session.  I met the boss and told her that seven was ready to be photographed and that I had found a particularly good location for photos.  She protested that all she needed was to show off the girl but eventually accepted my argument that getting the proper atmosphere would enhance seven’s beauty and help lift her price.

I had a gear bag in the pony trap and helped the boss to mount.  Then with a flick of the reins we started off for the far side of the trail where, atop a small hill, we would be hidden from sight.  I deliberately avoided conversation and acted as though I was totally focused on seven’s performance.  With her blinders seven wouldn’t be able to identify anyone in the trap with me.  In fact, this being her first day with a trap she wouldn’t really know if there was a second passenger or just some weights.

When we got to the secluded spot I wanted I hitched seven to a tree by her nipple rings.  That would prevent her turning around and being able to see anything of what followed.  I helped the boss out of the trap and pulled her to one side to begin her photography.  As she lifted the camera to her face I slipped behind her and zapped her with a taser.  She dropped like a rock.

Chapter 4 – Boss to Slave

Stripping and Surprises

I quickly pulled the boss’s wrists behind her back and tied them.  I didn’t bother with a cinch as these ropes would be replaced soon.  Similarly I tied her ankles together.  Then I inserted a ball gag tightly into her mouth and fastened it behind her head.  She was waking up now and tried to struggle but really had very little chance.

The boss was wearing a leather cat suit that shaped her body nicely.  I rolled her on her back and sat on her abdomen as I unfastened the two snaps on the flap at her collar.  Once this flap was open I was able to pull the zipper down from her neck to her waist.  I worked the cat suit off her shoulders and down her arms while she ‘mumphed’ and glared at me.  I noted that she had an attractive bra with a sort of lace pattern on the outside.  Who would have guessed that the boss liked sexy underwear?  I reached around her back and unsnapped her bra strap.  Pulling the bra up and over her head I pushed it down her arms.

As I did so I got a surprise.  The boss had nipple rings.  Not the large ones we used on pony girls but nipple rings nonetheless.  These were attractive silver rings but, small or not, they were firmly anchored in the boss’s lovely breasts.  I didn’t have a great deal of time to waste but I couldn’t resist stroking her firm lovely breasts.  Despite her chagrin at being captured, or was it because she was captured, her nipples grew turgid.  I wanted to spend some time suckling those lovely nipples but reminded myself that such pleasures would have to wait.

Rolling her face down I tied her elbows close together.  They didn’t touch by about 3 or 4 inches but served to pull her shoulders back and force her breasts forward.  With her elbows tied and cinched securely I removed the ropes from her wrists and pulled the cat suit and bra off of her arms.  Then I forced each hand into a bondage mitten and tied her wrists together again, this time cinching them tightly.

Rolling her onto her back I reversed my position, now sitting on her stomach and facing her feet.  I opened the belt of the cat suit and ran the zipper the rest of the way down to her crotch revealing her panties which matched the lace bra.  I worked the cat suit down below her knees and then went back for the panties.  Imagine my surprise when I smelled the familiar scent of an aroused woman and noted a damp spot in the crotch of her panties.  Sure enough as I worked them down below her knees I could see a shine of fluid at her pussy.  The boss was apparently, and rather surprisingly, getting aroused by being bound and stripped.

Oh yes, there was another surprise.  Apparently the boss shaved her pussy as bare as any submissive slave girl.  This was looking better and better.  I really wished I had the time to play with her but I had bigger plans.  I quickly roped her thighs just above her knees and cinched the rope tightly.

Standing up I removed her boots and then untied her ankles.  I dragged the cat suit and her panties off and re tied her ankles, this time cinching them securely.  I stuffed her shoes, cat suit and underwear into the equipment bag and pulled out the additional ropes, punishment hood and canvas bag I had brought.

Packaged for Travel

I spent a few seconds admiring the boss’ body though that title probably wasn’t appropriate any more.  Then I tied her into a tight ball.  I did this by first passing a rope under her knees and then around her back under her armpits forcing her to fold herself in two.  I inserted a catheter tube and after draining her bladder, clamped it off.  I also put in a butt plug which I pumped up to prevent any defecation while she was packaged.  I also inserted a vibrating dildo in her pussy, just for fun.  Then I ran a rope from her wrists to her ankles forcing her to double her legs and pulling her wrists tightly against her butt.  This rope also served to hold the butt plug and vibrator snugly in place. It was not a comfortable tie and she was going to be in it for some time to come.  I slipped her body into the rubber and canvas bag and got the punishment hood.

This hood was made of leather and had neither eye holes nor an opening for the mouth.  There were two tubes that came through the mask and inserted into the nostrils to ensure an adequate air supply.  She tried to twist her head to prevent my inserting the nostril tubes but I simply captured her head between my knees and forced the tubes into her nostrils and the mask over her face.  Pulling her hair through the hole for that purpose at the top rear of the mask I began to lace it shut.  It would be tight and hot but with Catherine both blind and doubly gagged (with both the ball gag and the hood itself) I knew that her struggles would fade as the discomfort grew.

I pulled up the canvas bag, strapped it shut and locked it.  Lifting it back into the pony trap I unhitched seven and started back toward the central part of the compound.  As we passed the parking area I stopped and placed the bagged and bound Catherine in the trunk of her car.  I had procured a canister of gas which I applied to the nozzle on the canvas bag.  As the gas went into the bag the rubber inner walls were pressed more tightly against the boss’s body while the outer walls pushed the canvas bag out so that you couldn’t see the shape inside the bag.  I had been told that the lighter than air gas would help lighten the suitcase and that the gas filled rubber bladder would obscure the contents of the bag when it went through the airport scanners.  Ah, the benefits of technology.

Vacation Time

I unharnessed seven and moved her to her oral sex class.  While there I asked Bruno to tie her down in the slave quarters that evening as I wanted to get started on my vacation.  Bruno readily agreed but asked who was going to take over seven’s training.  I shrugged and told him I had no idea and he had best check with the boss tomorrow morning to see how she wanted to handle it.

Then I got my bag from my quarters and slipped it into the trunk of the boss’ car.  I drove out from the compound and made my way to Sea-Tac (Seattle Tacoma International Airport) where I checked my two bags and boarded the red eye (overnight flight) to JFK (John F. Kennedy Airport in New York City).  I was traveling first class on a credit card that said C. Beaumont.  While I presented myself as Charles Beaumont I was certain the organization would find the flight records and assume that the C. stood for Catherine.

When I arrived at JFK I picked up my two bags and took the shuttle to National (National Airport in Washington DC).  One of the advantages of the shuttle is that they don’t keep a record of names but I used a new credit card with the name Philip Sorenson anyway.  Once in Washington I took a cab to Dulles (John Foster Dulles International Airport) and caught a flight to San Francisco.  Once again my bags were checked and I rode first class.  This time I was using a credit card that said Dr. Arthur Martinson.  I doubted that the organization would be able to trace beyond the New York flight but I wasn’t about to take any chances.

In San Francisco I rented a large suite at a spectacular down town hotel.  While I had been traveling 24 hours in fist class, Catherine had been bouncing about in her cramped bondage for the same amount of time.  It was time to give her a break and get some food into her and clean her up a bit.

Catherine Learns Her Situation

Once established in my suite I let the gas out of the bladder and opened the canvas bag.  I carried Catherine into the bath tub and untied both the ropes from her wrists to her ankles and the one holding her knees to her chest.  I left the ropes holding her elbows, wrists, lower thighs and ankles in place.  Just to be a nice guy I removed the punishment hood.  Using the shower I washed the sweat off of Catherine and then I removed the butt plug and the rope on her lower thighs, and sat her on the john.  I released the clamp on her catheter and drained her bladder and told her that if she couldn’t go to the bathroom I would have to give her an enema.

Catherine is a spirited woman but she is also intelligent and she knew it wouldn’t be smart to fight what I told her.  She glared at me but complied.  I cleaned her up and placed her on the bed.  To keep her in place I tied her still bound ankles to one end of the bed.  She was clearly angry but since she was still gagged she couldn’t say much.

I called for room service.  After it arrived I carried her from the bed room into the dining area and tied her into a chair with ropes around her waist and just below her breasts.  I untied her elbows and wrists and let her slowly move her arms.  After a few minutes I tied her left elbow and wrist to the arm of the chair leaving her right arm free.  I set the food in front of her and said "If you behave, I will ungag you, cut up your food for you and let you eat.  We need to talk anyway, but one scream from you and you get regagged and go hungry for another day.”

I removed the gag from her mouth and watched as she worked her jaw while I cut the meat in her plate.  She looked at me and said, “Are you crazy?  Do you know what they will do to you when they catch you?”

I laughed and explained how her computer had been used to transfer the organization funds to her Swiss bank account just before she flew out of town on her credit card.  Her eyes widened in horror as she realized that the organization would be hunting her and that it would probably not believe any story she told.  I suppose I was a little corny when I quoted the old line “You can’t go home again.”

I told her, “Even if you were able to make contact and convince someone that you were kidnapped, they would kill you for having foolishly written down the access code and allowing me to raid their bank account.  Remember, they like to have a high visibility execution every few years.  It tends to keep the troops in line.”

Catherine knew that I was right and that there was no going back.  “You are going to get us both killed.”

“Not as long as you are my slave.  I will help you hide and protect you but just remember that if you try to escape you will be exposing yourself to their wrath.”  Catherine was smart enough to know what ‘they’ would do to her if they ever caught up with her.

Catherine was hungry and ate most of her meal before she asked, “What do you plan to do with me?”  She was bright enough to realize that if I killed her the trail would continue to point to her but that if I didn’t there was always a danger, albeit a slight one, that she could lead someone to me.  Still I had kept her alive this long so obviously I had some plans for her.

I told her, “Katie, you are a very attractive and sensual woman.  I think you would make a great sex slave.”

“My name is Catherine…” she started to respond.

I interrupted her by grasping a nipple ring and twisting it as I said, “Your name is whatever your master says it is and I think Katie suits you very well.  Now, what is your name?”

As I said Katie, as her name now would be, wasn’t foolish.  She glared at me but said, “My name is Katie sir.  Please don’t hurt my nipples any more, sir.”

I let go of the nipple ring and stroked her breasts.  She moved as if to push my hand away but caught my eye and dropped her hand back to the table allowing me to fondle her.  After a moment she asked, “So what’s your plan now?  Are you going to whip me until you break me?”

I answered honestly. “I had thought of doing something like that but I don’t want your spirit broken.  You are intelligent, witty and have a great personality and I don’t want to reduce you to some cowering slave.”

“How romantic,” she interjected sarcastically.

“Don’t push your luck,” I said raising an eyebrow.  Then I continued, “I had thought that it would have taken some time to bring you to sex slave status without completely breaking you and risking your desirability.  Now I think that it may not be so hard.”

“What do you mean?” She asked nervously.

“Well… it appears that you are like to be sexually submissive.  Look at how your body reacted when I tied and stripped you.  Look at your nipple rings.  Look at how you shave your pussy.”

“You’re crazy.” She mumbled but it didn’t have any real conviction and a blush crept across her face.

“That may be, but I do have some experience at this sort of thing.  Let’s retire to the bedroom and see just how responsive your sweet body is.”

Chapter 4 – First Night and (More) Travel

I took Katie’s right wrist and tied a loop around her neck and then untied her left arm and brought it up next to her right.  This wasn’t a good long term tie as she might be able to use one hand to free the other wrist but it would do with me beside her and would last long enough to settle her in the bed for some fun and games.

I untied her from the chair and took her to the bedroom.  I offered her the bathroom and then led her to the bed.  “Now you rape me,” she said.

“Oh yes.  Come on Katie, after all the women we took and enslaved working together, do you really think you can appeal to my conscience?  Did you think I would bother with a sex slave but not have sex?”

“I suppose you think I ought to relax and enjoy it if it is inevitable.”

“Oh, I think I can guarantee you will enjoy it.  In any case I know I will Katie.”

“You can be a real bastard, you know?”

“Oh, Katie, did you think I was a boy scout?  You knew I was a bastard when you hired me.  That’s what you wanted.  The only thing now is that you are on the other end.”

She flinched a bit at her new name but was too smart to try and protest.  The suite had several large closets so I went into one of them and removed the wooden hanging bar.  I lashed this to her shoulders so that the round rod rested in the natural curve of her neck.  Then I lashed her wrists to the two ends of the bar.  This was a relatively comfortable tie which held her arms apart comfortably bent.  I had her lie down on the bed and ran a line from her knees to the ends of the bar drawing her knees up and out. I tugged her legs up far enough so that her hips were rolled up and her pussy was spread invitingly before me.

As I tied her, Kate again became aroused.  Her nipples grew turgid and a slight hint of moisture was visible on her inner lips.  I made a big production of wiping up the moisture with my finger and then sucking it off my finger.  Clearly Katie was embarrassed by how rapidly her body responded and she whimpered slightly.

I haven’t really described Katie yet, have I?  Well, she is in her late 20s or early 30’s with a tall and lean figure.  Despite that, she has well rounded hips and an ass to die for and relatively large breasts.  I never bother to check the size but I would guess she has C cups, perhaps a bit smaller, a B+ or C-.  In any case they are ample without being excessive and look larger on her lithe figure.  When standing they sagged slightly but were firm enough to pass and pencil test.  They looked firm and inviting.  Even on her back her breasts were firm mounds on her chest, punctuated by hard nipples decorated at their base with small silver rings.  She is one of the few women I know who actually looks good in a cat suit.

Katie has light brownish blond hair which she usually wears in a ponytail.  Her face isn’t that of a classic beauty.  Her mouth is a bit too wide and her chin a bit too pronounced for classic beauty but she is, to my mind, very pretty and has an intelligence that shows in her face that makes her very sexually attractive.  She is as tall as I am and in fact usually towered over me by an inch or two by virtue of her heels.  Of course, at the moment, she was nude and neatly packaged on the bed.

First Night

I wanted to make our first sexual encounter memorable despite the fact that we were still in transit.  I don’t know why I was so concerned.  Perhaps it was that Katie seemed to be a very special woman to me.  In any case, I began by stroking her breasts gently and kissing her on the nose and eyelids.  Katie apparently found this arousing because she moaned softly and I could feel her, almost unconsciously, trying to thrust her breasts into my hands for more contact.

I responded by lightly rolling her nipples.  Apparently Katie’s nipples were very sensitive as her moans increased.  Sensitive or not Katie’s nipples were attractive.  They weren’t pink as so many men describe nipples, but rather a warm brown.  They were both thick and long (though the rings through their base may have stretched them some) and when turgid, as they were now, felt firm and inviting.  I flicked one stiff nipple as I moved my mouth down to the other.  Katie was losing it now as her moans became almost constant and I could smell the heady scent of her arousal.

I slipped my hand to cup her mound and gently massaged her.  Nothing invasive, yet, but the movement of my hand must have pressed down over her clitoris.  There was an increase in moisture as her outer lips became engorged.  I left her nipple and moved my mouth to her groin.  With her outer lips swollen the beautiful pink flower of her inner lips was visible.  As with every other part of her, her pussy was magnificent.

I flicked my tongue along her inner lips, not quite penetrating.  The sides of my tongue contacted her outer lips.  I moved back down and inserted my tongue into her center.  Her moan was almost a groan.  I could feel her body tense as her orgasm was about to hit.

Then I stopped.  Katie cried out, “Oh, please!”

“Oh, Please what?” I asked.

As I have said Katie is bright.  Despite her need she instantly knew what I wanted and she responded, “Please Master, let your slave girl cum.”

Well, I don’t claim to be a nice guy but Katie had some learning to do and I wanted her to get the idea of begging bringing rewards even if the begging wasn’t all that sincere at this point.  I went back with my mouth and slowly licked up the length of her slit pressing against her clit as I passed over it.  If I had wanted to bring her off quickly I would have focused on her clit but this (relatively) long journey with my tongue was bringing her closer and closer slowly.  I do so love foreplay.  All good things come to an end and I eventually flicked my tongue back and forth over her clit and brought her off.

Katie was no screamer but her moans turned to a long groan as she came.  Her body got rigid and she strained against the ropes holding her knees.  I found her absolutely gorgeous when she came.  As the aftershocks rolled through her I hoisted myself back up alongside her and kissed her on the mouth.  I am certain she could taste her juices on my lips.  I asked her. “Did you enjoy that Katie?”

Still in the throws of her orgasm she answered in an unguarded way “Oh, yes.  That was wonderful.”

I didn’t want to fuss with her clit as it might well be a bit over sensitive right now, so I slipped first one, and then two fingers into her, and began to explore for her legendary G spot.  Most frequently you can feel a slightly harder bit of flesh or a slightly different texture when you find it, but in Katie’s case, she was so wet I felt no difference.  Still, I had no trouble telling I had found it, as her semi relaxing body jerked as though I had zapped her with electricity.  I slowly stroked inside of her as I suckled at her firm, prominent nipples.  Soon I had her whimpering again and I asked, “Shall I come into you Katie?”

She was angry that her body was making her so eager and she said, “Yes, damn you, come inside of me.”

I smiled and continued to slowly stroke her while I said “That didn’t sound like begging.”

Katie moaned.  Her need for an orgasm was obviously driving her as she said, “Please Master, come inside me and make your slave girl cum.”

Well, she wasn’t really all that sincere but how can any man resist that sort of an invitation?  Remember that during all of this I had been growing more aroused and needy myself.  In any case, I acceded to her request and drove myself into her.

Now, Katie had her legs pulled wide to the sides but was still deliciously tight.  Don’t misunderstand me.  Katie was no blushing virgin.  In fact I don’t much like virgins.  They are tight but they really don’t know how to screw.  Katie was no virgin but she was tight.  Tight, hot and wet.  I slid into her and could feel her pussy grasping at me.  At that point I must admit that I lost all reason and careful planning.  Katie was bound but suddenly she was in control, or at least I was completely out of control.  I pulled back intending to move so slowly that it would torment her but I couldn’t do it.  Instead I thrust as hard and as fast as I could into her, over and over.  Well, I don’t want to exaggerate.  She was on edge and the pulsing of her pussy set me off after just a few strokes.  I don’t think I had cum so fast since I was in my teens.  Katie may have had her problems but she was a marvelous fuck.

I collapsed on her and fumbled back at the ropes holding her knees.  Once released she didn’t pull away from me but wrapped her legs around me to hold me deep in her.  We were both sweaty and gasping for breath.  It had been good for me and I think for her as well.  I lifted my weight off her sliding slightly to the side and nuzzled her neck.  I was exhausted and ready for sleep.

Katie, however, asked me to untie her hands from the clothes rod.  I told her no but she persisted saying that this wasn’t a comfortable way to sleep.  While I really enjoyed sex with Katie this constant whining had to be stopped.  I rolled away from her and got a towel from the bathroom.  I spread the towel in the doorway between the bed and living rooms.

Katie watched as I grabbed a couple of lengths of rope and a ball gag and then came back to the bed.  I helped her stand and walk through the doorway (she had to turn sideways because of the length of the clothes rod to which her wrists were still fastened).  Then I had her kneel down facing the bedroom.  I had her spread her knees as far apart as she could and then crossed her ankles and tied and cinched them.  I inserted the ball gag and went back into the bedroom where I tied a length of rope to the frame of the bed and led it back towards her.

Leaving her wondering what I had in mind I went back to the closet where I had dumped the hotel’s hangers on the floor when I removed the wood hanging rod.  It took just a couple of seconds rooting around in the pile to find what I wanted, a skirt hanger.  You have seen these in hotel rooms.  It is like a regular hanger but has two strong spring loaded clips meant to securely grip the hem of a skirt or the cuffs of a pair of pants.  Of course the clips can be slid closer together or further apart to accommodate different clothing.

I have said that Katie was a smart woman, didn’t I?  As soon as I turned toward her with the skirt hanger she understood what I was planning to do and began to shake her head as though saying ‘No’.  Of course it made no difference as I knelt before her and began to stroke and fondle her breasts.  Predictably the nipples stiffened and I clipped first one and then the other with the clamps on the skirt hanger.  She tried to cry out but the ball gag muffled her protests and despite her best efforts at twisting her torso she couldn’t dislodge the improvised nipple clamps.

I wasn’t quite done yet however.  I took the line from the frame of the bed and looped it through the part of the hanger meant to go over the rod.  Pulling on the line I tugged Katie forward until she was leaning forward with her hands and the clothes rod tightly against the door frame.  She no longer had any freedom of movement, and, in fact any movement just tugged at her nipples.

I stroked and fondled her breasts.  Each time I lifted a breast it slightly relieved the tug on her nipples and when I released her breast it again increased the tension on her nipple.  Katie was in for a long and rather uncomfortable night.  I reached down to her groin and found her very wet.  Some of it may have been our commingled fluids still leaking from her (that’s why I had spread the towel) but I suspect that some of it was new lubrication.  Katie really seemed to be turned on by being tied and controlled.

I inserted two fingers and searched for her G spot.  As she had before, she jerked as though zapped when I found it.  Of course, this time when she jerked it tugged on her already painful nipples.  I began to stroke her G spot while running my thumb up to rub her clitoris.  Apparently Katie didn’t think an orgasm in this position would be a good idea because she tried to shake her head and say something but, of course, I ignored her while I worked her up towards another orgasm.  While I did I asked her rhetorically, “Do you remember how many times you told women that a slave should never complain about how she is tied because it can always be made worse?”  I saw that she did remember as I could see the recognition and resignation in her eyes for about thirty seconds before her orgasm overtook her.  She jerked and rocked and I thought the nipple clamps might actually be tugged off.  In the end I told her, “You are so gorgeous when you cum,” kissed her on the nose and went back to bed shutting off the lights.  As I said Katie was in for a long uncomfortable night.

Next Morning

In the morning Katie looked wan and drawn.  This actually suited my purposes fine.  I went to the bathroom and then prepared an injection for her.  I pumped the liquid into her arms and explained, “This is a muscle relaxant based on the South American drug Curare.  The natives down there used to hunt with it.  They tipped their darts and when a deer or some other game was hit their muscles would become paralyzed until they eventually stopped breathing.  This stuff is a modern medical version.  It just causes you to loose control of the muscles you consciously control but isn’t enough to affect the part of the brain that controls the unconscious muscles.  You know the ones you don’t have to think about.  That way you can’t control any movement but it doesn’t keep you from breathing.  The neat thing is that you are still awake and feel everything that happens to you even though you can’t react.”

As I talked I could see her head begin to droop as she lost control of her neck muscles.  Eventually she dropped into a heap pulling off the nipple clamps.  I am certain that that was much more painful than she would have been able to tolerate had she had any control left so I knew that she wasn’t faking the drugs effect.  I untied and ungagged her and wrestled her dead weight into the bath tub where I drained her catheter.  Then I inserted a butt plug and strapped a butterfly vibrator in place.  Spreading an adult diaper (Depends brand if you must know) on the bed I wrestled her into place and fastened the diaper holding both the butt plug and vibrator firmly in place.  Then I slipped a hospital gown over her and went to eat my room service breakfast.  By the time I was done the private ambulance service was calling from the lobby and I told them to come on up.

They came into the room with a gurney and with my help moved Katie’s limp body onto it.  They strapped her in place on the gurney including two padded blocks to hold her head firmly in place and a chin strap to hold her mouth closed, covered her with a blanket and we all left.  I stopped at the desk to check out and then joined them at the ambulance.  The gurney was already in place and locked down.  They carefully drove to the private aviation part of San Jose airport where we met the chartered ambulance jet.  I took the opportunity of the trip to the airport to run a pen along the soles of her feet and noted that there was no response, not even a curling of her toes.

The air ambulance had its own gurney so Katie was unstrapped and her limp body transferred and then strapped into the new bed.  Once we were aboard it took only a few minutes until we were airborne for Miami.  The attendant fussed about for the first half hour but eventually settled down with a magazine.  I tested Katie’s feet again and noted a slight response.  I gave her another shot and turned on the butterfly vibrator.  It wouldn’t be enough to bring her to orgasm but ought to keep her on simmer for the duration of the flight.

In Miami the process was reversed with another private ambulance and we set off for the docks where a chartered motor launch awaited us.  The ambulance crew was very helpful in getting Katie’s limp body secured to one of the boat’s bunks.  I gave the charter captain the night off and told him that we would be leaving early the next morning.  As soon as he left I gagged Katie with a whiffle ball that would muffle any sounds she made but would allow enough air to breath in case her nose became clogged.

Leaving her strapped to the bunk and slowly recovering from the injections in the now deserted boat, I headed into town and bought a large footlocker at a camping and surplus store.  I told the clerk that because I traveled by boat I wanted to be able to secure the upper tray to the bottom in case of rough weather.  He grumbled a bit but, but when I gave him a few dollars he agreed to drill a hole in each end and run a screw in through the sides to hold the tray.  While he was doing this I picked out a couple of foam mats that were intended to be camping mattresses.

I returned to the boat and lined the footlocker with one of the mattresses.  Katie was recovering but was still weak as a kitten when I unstrapped her, rolled her face down and tied her arms behind her.  I tied her elbows together and then tied her wrists together making certain that the ropes were firmly cinched.  Her legs were next with wraps and cinches above and below her knees and on her ankles.

I propped the footlocker on one end and put Katie into it with her arms pressed tightly against the back.  Her side pressed against the foam mat I had inserted.  She was more alert as I folded her legs and knees and pushed them into the foot locker.  I laid the footlocker down, covered Katie with the second foam mat and pressed the tray down onto her.  She was slightly too wide for the depth of the footlocker with the mats and all so I had to press down to get the screws inserted.  I listened carefully but couldn’t hear any sounds from the footlocker.  I dumped some of my underwear and socks into the open tray, closed the lid and padlocked it.  Another bad night for Katie but she had been resting all day.

The charter captain came rolling back about 11 and I told him that the woman had been taken to the hospital and would not be able to make the trip for several days at least.  I on the other hand still wanted to get to our destination and would the captain please shove off as early as he was able.  I had briefly toyed with renting the boat without crew but that would have left me with an expensive rental at the other end.

Chapter 5 – We Arrive

We made port at Limon in Costa Rica.  Limon is the largest city on the Atlantic (or Caribbean) side of the country.  Costa Rica is a beautiful country just north of Panama and south of Nicaragua.  Unlike so many of the banana republics it is relatively stable and has no border disputes with its neighbors.  In fact Costa Rica doesn’t even maintain an army.  Many U.S. military have retired to the country and the cost of living, including servants, is relatively low.

Unfortunately it shares the Spanish heritage of corrupt officials that so bedevils Latin America.  When we landed we were met by a customs and an immigration official.  I discretely slipped them each $100 and told them how I appreciated their prompt attention.  I even opened the padlocked footlocker and lifted the lid but after a cursory glance as my clean underwear the customs official climbed back on the dock.  A similarly quick review of my passport and visa satisfied the immigration man and I was cleared to land.  Showing their appreciation for having observed the local custom of bribing them to do what their jobs required them to do, they even helped me lift the footlocker onto the dock.  I walked to the harbor master’s office and left another $20 to ‘cover the cost of the call’ (which must have been 20 cents) and called Hector to come and pick me up in his truck.  I returned to the boat and the foot locker sitting on the dock, settled accounts with the charter skipper and helped him cast off lines and clear the dock.

By the time I had dragged the footlocker to the head of the pier, Hector showed up.  Together we loaded the footlocker into his truck and headed for my house.  It wasn’t far but was up a hill where the trade breezes compensated for the heat.  We rolled through the gates and on up the hill.  I had deliberately purchased quite a bit of land to ensure privacy.

When we arrived at the house I was met by Rosa, Hector’s wife, and Isabel.  We unloaded the truck and like a magician I unlocked the footlocker, removed the top tray and helped a stiff and still bound Katie to stand up.  I removed the gag and performed the introductions telling Katie, “This is Rosa.  She is the cook and runs the household for me.  This is Hector, her husband.  He keeps the grounds and is the general handyman.  And this is Isabel, who is the maid.  She handles cleaning and laundry.”

Rosa and Hector are in their late 50’s or so but have that timeless look so many native Americans have.  Isabel, on the other hand is about 18 though she has had more experience than most women of any age.

Katie asked if these were also my slaves and I assured her that Rosa and Hector were loyal and devoted employees but not slaves.

“And her?” she asked indicating Isabel.

Was that a note of jealousy I heard?  Isabel was certainly a lovely young woman with long black hair, ample breasts and buttocks and an almost impossibly thin waist.  In fact she would have been a real beauty if it hadn’t been for the worn look on her face.  I told Katie, “Isabel was sold, by her parents, to a brothel at age 14.  We heard of her, by chance, two years ago when she was 16.  I ‘bought’ her from the brothel owner and gave her a home and a job.  She doesn’t have much use for sex and doesn’t like men very much, but she seems to tolerate and trust me.  So she isn’t quite an employee, even though I give her a salary.  She doesn’t have any place to go but here.  If she went home her parents would just sell her again.  So, in a way she is in the same boat you are.”

I turned to Rosa and said, “This is Katie.  She is not to be allowed off the property.  Keep her bound for right now.  I will get her a collar later. She has had a rough couple of days so give her plenty of water and some light food.  Not too much, as she will be hungry but her stomach may not be up to much just yet.  The get rid of this…” indicating her catheter tube, “and let her have a nap.  This evening have her cleaned up and brought to me.  I will be in the den for now and then in my bedroom.  It has been a long couple of days.”

That Evening

I spent most of the afternoon catching up on the household accounts.  As usual Rosa had the records in order and the house in good shape.  I had a light supper. Rosa, again as usual, provided a very good meal with little advanced notice.  After dinner I retired to my bedroom.  I could heal squeals coming from the bathroom where, apparently, Katie was being cleaned up.  Sure enough about 8:30 there was a knock at my door and Isabel led a much better looking Katie into the room.  I couldn’t help smiling as the teenaged girl led the older woman by a leash snapped onto one of Katie’s nipple rings.  I noted that Katie’s hands were behind her and that a string around her neck held a key.  Katie looked flushed but said nothing as Isabel tugged at the leash forcing her to kneel facing me.  I took the leash and dismissed Isabel, thanking her for her work.

When she had gone I asked Katie, “Feeling better?”

“That girl is a menace.” She responded.  “Not only did she wash every bit of me she made me come three times in the shower.  Every time I tried to protest she would spray my mouth with water until I had to shut it.  I thought you said she didn’t like sex.”

I guess I laughed at the picture of the teen wringing orgasm after orgasm from my previously dominant boss lady.  In any case, I said, “Well, I thought she didn’t.  Perhaps it is just that she has had enough bad memories of heterosexual sex.  I had never thought to look into lesbian sex.  Perhaps one day I will have the two of you give me a demonstration.  I think you ought to be grateful she gave you orgasms instead of forcing you to service her.”

“I suppose so,” Katie said almost reluctantly.

I turned Katie around and saw that either Isabel or Rosa had decided the thumb cuffs would be sufficient bondage.  I led Katie to the bed and used the key on the string to remove the thumb cuffs.  Once freed I could see Katie contemplating her chances at escape.  I was stronger then her, and was holding a leash attached to one nipple ring.  Even if she managed to get away from me she was in an unfamiliar house with probably hostile servants and on an unknown property.  Even if she did manage to get off the property she didn’t know where the town was or what the official reaction to a nude woman with no papers and a pretty fantastic story would be.  Then to, if she was rescued it would make the papers and there was no doubt that the organization would be actively looking for her with malice in its collective mind.

All of this went through her mind in less time that it takes to read and Katie meekly complied as I ordered her onto the bed.  I had her lie on her back and tied each of her wrists to the outside of the corresponding ankle.  Then I tied a line to the bottom of her thigh just above the knee.  This line I passed under my bed and around the bottom of her other thigh.  I spread her thighs, or more accurately her knees, taking up the slack in the line until they were more or less flat on the bed.  In this position her thighs and calves pressed her arms under them into the mattress.

I smiled as I leaned over her and stroked the side of her face.  Katie was really a lovely woman and I was enjoying having her in my ropes.

She looked at me and said, somewhat to my surprise, “May I ask you a question, Master?”

Intrigued, I nodded and she asked, “Why me?”

I guess I raised an eyebrow because she continued, “Why did you take me?  You could have taken the money and left me to the organization.  You could have stolen another slave or simply kidnapped a woman off the street.  It’s obvious that you had worked out the transportation in advance.  Why did you decide to take me?  Oh I know my body isn’t bad for my age and my looks are OK but you could have taken much more spectacular bodies and prettier women.  Please, why did you take me?”

Well, I knew this would come up sooner or later.  I hadn’t planned to deal with it at this stage.  So all I said was, “You seduced me.”

Katie said, “I never came on to you.  What do you mean?”

“Ah, Katie…” I sighed.  “You know that they say the brain is the most potent sex organ.  You didn’t do anything.  You seduced me by just being you.  You have a good brain and a great personality and a wicked sense of humor.  And by the way I think you are very pretty and have a great body too. I couldn’t help it; I just fell head over heels for you.”

“Most guys would have just sent flowers.” She said.  It was a sarcastic comment but her smile belied the words.

I laughed.  I couldn’t resist this woman.  How could you not love a woman who, having been kidnapped, transported uncomfortably for days and who was now tied to your bed could make jokes?  I smiled at her and said, “You and I aren’t ordinary people Katie.  We have both spent years on the wrong side of the law, taking what we wanted, and doing what we dammed well pleased.  I don’t think I could play the star crossed lover, and I don’t think you would respond if I did.  We aren’t very nice people Katie, but I have fallen for you.”

She said, “I suppose I could turn that to my advantage.”

“You could try but in love or not, I’m not a fool.  Right now you understand the difficulties of escaping and the dangers of the organization finding you if you should make it.  But you still haven’t accepted the alternative.  If I were a corporate type I would say you haven’t ‘internalized’ your role as my slave.  Katie I love you, but if you try to escape I will punish you.  I don’t want to hurt you but I will do what has to be done.  Please lovely lady think carefully.  And now, my love (Was that me saying that?), I am going to make love to you.  I am going to play with your rather magnificent body even if it isn’t 20 years old any more.  I am going to bring you to orgasm and I am going to ‘have my way with you’.”

I began by stroking her face.  I moved to her neck where I nibbled at her.  She moaned slightly and arched her back appreciatively and I continued down her body. I played with her breasts, stroking, gently moving them in my hands, teasing the aureoles and eventually the nipples.  I lowered my mouth to one nipple and suckled on it.  Then I gripped it and tugged.  While I was doing this I slipped a hand down to her widespread groin and massaged her mound.  That earned me more appreciative moans.

Eventually I moved my mouth down to taste her.  How can I describe that taste?  It is similar to every other woman and yet unique to her.  Slightly tart to the taste buds but somehow she tasted sweet to me.  I couldn’t resist but plunged my tongue into her and began to lap up the juices.  My hands were on her thighs holding her steady and supporting me as I licked away.  After a while I began to swipe my tongue in long strokes up the length of her pussy.  I felt her body tense under my hands and I grabbed at her clit with my lips while flicking my tongue back and forth as rapidly as I could, lashing her to greater and greater heights of orgasm.

After some time I relented and sat back to watch her writhe in the throes of her passion.  She was magnificent!  I don’t know why women in general look so good when they cum, or why my Katie was so spectacularly gorgeous.  Perhaps it was just that I had fallen for her, but I think it was more.  In any case she was marvelous.  I let her come down slowly and then slid a finger into her now dripping pussy.

“Please, Master,” she objected, “fill me with you.  Let me feel you inside me.  Let me fell you gush into me. Please Master, I need you.”

Well, I had planned to play with her body and wring multiple orgasms from her but it was like the Godfather’s proverbial ‘offer that I could not refuse.’  I mean, I had always rewarded slaves for good behavior and this sounded like pretty sincere begging, not some sort of trying to top from the bottom.  Then too, I find it hard to resist my partner’s pleas, especially when it is something I want to do.

I stripped down and swiped my penis against her pussy to ensure adequate lubrication.  To tell the truth she was so wet that I don’t think it mattered.  I entered her slowly feeling her hot moist center pulsing around me.  “I don’t know if I am going to last very long,” I warned her.

“It doesn’t matter, Master.  I just need to feel you inside of me.”

Well, I don’t know that it doesn’t matter but she had already cum once and even if I didn’t last long enough for another orgasm we would only be even.  Still I like to bring a bound woman to orgasm.  Call it my male ego.  In any case I compromised by pumping away while working one hand between us to massage her clit in time with my thrusts.  Well, more or less, in time with my thrusts.  In any case it seemed to turn the trick as I felt her contracting pussy sort of flutter as I began to come and felt a gush of fluid from her that couldn’t all have been my sperm.

I collapsed to one side and caught my breath.  Then I untied the rope from one knee.  This allowed her to close her legs and roll to one side.  With her wrists still secured to her ankles she was forced into a sort of fetal curl.  I spooned behind her with my thighs pressed to her butt and my chest against her back.  I lifted my arm over her waist and brought my forearm up against her chest between her breasts with my hand at the base of her throat.  I could feel the regular beat of her heart.  I moved my head beside her ear and kissed the lobe.  I whispered, “Goodnight, sweet Katie.”

In the morning I was wakened by Katie who said, “Please Master, I need the bathroom.”  Not the most romantic of wake ups but important nonetheless.  I untied her and while she was using the facilities I rooted around in my closet to find a collar and checked that it was fully charged.  When Katie came out I placed it on her neck and said, “I know the urge to escape is going to be powerful but you have to think about what would happen to you.  This collar will help you resist that urge.  There is an invisible fence around the property and this collar is like the dog collar but much more powerful.  When you get near the fence it will start to buzz against your neck to warn you but if you continue on it will give you an electric shock that will almost certainly disable you.”

I carefully locked the collar about her lovely neck and, retrieving the thumb cuffs from last night locked her hands together in front, this time.  Then I took her arm and led her down to the kitchen which we used instead of the dining room for our less formal meals.  After breakfast I recuffed her thumbs behind her, gave her a pair of flip flops and told her to wander around the house and the property but warned her again about the fence and the collar.  I went off to move some of the funds I had stolen into investment accounts.  This would take some time as large investments, or movements of cash for that matter, caught the attention of the banking and government authorities.

Chapter 6 - Punishments

Isabel Takes Advantage

Along about lunch time I went looking for Katie.  I found her tied to an exercise bench in the exercise room with her feet stretched out to either side and Isabel tormenting her.  I stayed out of sight and watched.  Like any teenaged girl, I guess, Isabel was full of mischief.  She had apparently forced Katie down on the bench and roped her into place.  With her hands cuffed behind her and her nipple rings prominent it must not have been difficult for Isabel to control Katie.  Isabel was teasing Katie’s nipples and her pussy with her hands and a paint brush she had found somewhere.  She would work Katie up to the point where she was begging Isabel to let her cum.  Then Isabel, who was nude, would straddle Katie and place her pussy over Katie’s mouth and force Katie to eat Isabel to an orgasm.  Then Isabel would begin the entire teasing process again.  Katie knew that she would never be allowed to cum but could only end the teasing by begging.  The way Katie was bound Isabel was facing away from the door and didn’t see me.

I didn’t particularly mind Katie being made very horny but I didn’t want Isabel thinking that she could get away with anything she pleased.  After thinking about it I just waited until Isabel was in the throes of another orgasm and then I picked up her uniform dress, her bra and panties and left.  I made my way to the kitchen and told Rosa that I had found the clothes and suggested that she go and find Isabel.  She set the clothing on the kitchen counter and took off with malice in her countenance.  I opened a beer (it’s hot in the lower elevations in Central America and it was almost lunch time) and waited for results.

It didn’t take very long (I know I have an exercise room but it is really more of a house than some sort of mansion and isn't all that big) before a spitting mad Rosa came back to the kitchen pulling a nude Isabel by the ear, followed by Katie who was still thumb cuffed but otherwise unbound.  Isabel saw me standing there and I don’t know if she was more afraid of the upcoming punishment or of my seeing her nude.  No, in view of what happened, I think she didn’t have time to be bothered by her nudity.

Rosa went to the kitchen counter, pulled out a large wooden spoon and dragged a now shrieking Isabel towards a kitchen chair. Rosa was yelling at Isabel and speaking too rapidly for my poor Spanish but I gathered that Isabel’s behavior was a poor reflection on how Rosa ran the household.  Apparently Rosa took this as a personal insult. She plumped herself onto a chair and pulled Isabel across her lap.  Whap, whap. The spoon rose and fell on Isabel’s plump ass cheeks.  Isabel’s ass turned pink, then red, than an angry color that was closer to purple.  It was actually fun to watch.  When she had worked out her anger Rosa reversed the spoon and stuck it into Isabel’s sphincter.  She stood Isabel up and pushed her into a corner, warning her that if she let the spoon drop she would be spanked all over again.

Isabel was sobbing but I could see her clench her butt to prevent the spoon from dropping and incurring even more punishment.  I turned to look at Katie and saw a rather smug smile on her face.  I decided not to waste all the work that Isabel had done to arouse Katie and slid my shorts down as I sat in a kitchen chair and motioned Katie over to me.  She walked over and looked down at my boner.  I thought she might ask if I wanted a blow job but apparently Isabel had really worked her up as Katie straddled my lap and asked “Help me Master?” as she lowered myself.

Oh, am I an easy going master!  I grabbed my cock and held it steady as Katie lowered herself.  Once she had started me into her I let go and she dropped into my lap.  Katie raised her feet to the rungs of the chair to give herself more leverage and began energetically rising and falling on me.  It was delicious.  In this position I couldn’t give her much help but I did latch on to those lovely breasts fondling them and playing with her nipples.  Lord, this was really a good position.  She was doing all the work, I was playing with her breasts and the movement on my penis was marvelous.  Deciding Katie had been teased enough for one morning I slipped a hand down to her clit and helped her along so that she came almost as soon as I did.  I was still spurting in her as I felt the familiar flutter of her pussy.  She threw her head back and moaned and I watched as the orgasm swept through her body.

The (not so) Great Escape

After that first morning Isabel and Katie came to some sort of understanding and actually became great friends.  I even saw Katie doing Isabel’s nails one day when her (Katie’s) hands were bound in front of her.  I knew Katie would eventually try to escape, no matter what awaited her outside, and thought that she might try to get Isabel to help her.  Imagine my surprise, then, when Rosa and Hector came to me and reported that Katie had tried to seduce Hector into helping her remove the electronic collar.

Hector reported the attempt in a straightforward manner but Rosa was incensed.  Now understand that Rosa was a fine figure of a woman, but at 50 some odd years, she had gained a few pounds.  I didn’t really know her in her youth, but it was apparent that she must have been a real beauty.  Now, with wider hips, more belly, and large sagging breasts, she was still attractive but not really as attractive as she must have once been.  More than that, Hector was her man and I suspect that most wives, at any age and in any shape, view attempts to seduce their husbands as an attack upon the wife.  In any case she was boiling mad.  I knew that I had to punish Katie for the attempt.  That wasn’t a problem.  What concerned me was how to satisfy Rosa, or at least Rosa’s Spanish sense of honor.  I was worried that if Rosa was still resentful of Katie, it might be dangerous for Katie when I was away.  With this in mind I devised a brutal but limited punishment.

I decided to use the dining room for Katie’s punishment so I told Isabel to place the pads on the dining room table.  It was highly polished and I didn’t want it stained by Katie’s body oils and tears.  I led Katie into the dining room and pulled her legs apart, tying her ankles to the table legs.  With her hands cuffed behind her I hoisted her wrists and tied them to the hook in the ceiling that held the chandelier.  With her legs spread wide, bent over the table Katie’s rear was prominently displayed for punishment.  That was really enough to secure Katie but I wanted to make things a bit nastier.  I tied long strands of twin to each of her big toes, ran them under the table and then back towards Katie until I could loop them through her nipple rings.  A quick tug here and a knot there and Katie’s nipples were pulled out by the twine.  Any movement at all by Katie would tug at her nipples.

I turned to Hector and said, “She offered you her body but you reported it to me.  You should not suffer for having done the right thing.  Please take her, in the ass!”

I imagine that Hector had few opportunities to have any sort of intercourse with younger women and certainly not anal sex.  I doubted Rosa would be into that. He smiled, unzipped his trousers and advanced on Katie.  I said, “Why not use her mouth to get some lubrication?”  To Katie I said, “Better do a good job or he will be dry going into you.”

It’s tough to glare when tied down and stretched out as Katie was but she managed it just before she opened her mouth and got busy on Hector.  The smile on his face told me that she was doing a good job.  I suspect that Rosa didn't give him much oral sex either.

After a few minutes Hector pulled out of Katie’s mouth sporting a hard on that would have done a teen proud.  He walked around the table, positioned himself carefully and worked his way slowly into Katie’s ass.  She grunted with the effort.

Eventually he was all the way in.  I glanced at Rosa and saw that she was fuming.  Hector began pumping in and out.  Each time he thrust forward Katie grunted but was pushed further across the table creating a slight bit of slack in the twine holding her nipple rings.  As he pulled back her body recoiled and the twine tugged at her nipples.

Hector didn’t last very long and I must say, I couldn’t blame him.  Katie was very erotic and I am certain that her back channel was hot and tight.  After he finished he pulled out and rearranged himself in his trousers.  Now it was Rosa’s turn.  I gave her a whippy bamboo cane.  I could see that Isabel, who stood next to Hector, flinched when she saw the cane.

Rosa was a strong woman.  Years of work in the kitchen had developed her arms.  And she was an angry one.  She swung the cane with all of her force eliciting a shriek from Katie.  Then she paused to let the pain soak in before she delivered the next one.  Each stroke made a solid sound as it impacted.  Rosa’s first stroke was across the middle of Katie’s ass.  Each successive stroke was a bit higher.  At one point I laid my hand across the small of Katie’s back indicating that Rosa shouldn’t go higher.  She looked at me and nodded and then delivered the next stroke lower.

The only sounds in the room were the swish of the cane, the solid whack of the impact and the cries from Katie.  Almost every stroke raised welts and where they crossed there were little drops of blood.  I was beginning to wonder if I should call a halt to this savage pounding when Rosa tossed the cane onto the table and hissed, “Never try to take my man you slut, or this will seem like love pats.”  Rosa turned and left the room followed by Hector.

Katie was sobbing.  I looked at Isabel and said, “Don’t touch her or her bindings.  I want you to tell her about life in a brothel.  Tell her how it was for you and tell her how the white girls were treated.”  Then I said “Katie, listen up.”

While Isabel talked I applied some antiseptic to Katie’s ass.  It hurt but not as much as the caning and Katie took the pain with only minor moans and twitches.

Isabel told of a hard life with long hours and little choice in customers, many of whom were not particularly clean.  She indicated that the more experienced whores generally bossed about the younger ones but that they didn’t really treat the young ones badly.  Then she went on to explain how the older whores treated the white women.  Generally the whites were a novelty and therefore commanded a high volume of customers.  This was viewed as theft of customers or at least income by the older whores who frequently beat and stole from the isolated white women.  In either case most of the whores became old before their time and generally succumbed to disease long before they could save enough to purchase their freedom.

When Isabel was finished I waved her away and said to Katie, “If you escape from here you will probably be grabbed off the streets and forced into a brothel where the older ‘girls’ will hate and resent you and make your life miserable.  You will have no choice of who you sleep with or what acts you perform and eventually you will die of beatings and malnutrition unless you are lucky enough to catch a disease and die sooner.”

“And if you get all the way to the police, what do you think will happen?  They are as corrupt as most official in this country and will do very little to help you.  Sure they might drive out here but none of the three servants are going to admit to anything.  The customs and immigration officials will testify that I came ashore alone after they inspected my luggage.  Hell, the cops might sell you to a pimp themselves.”

“Even if you make it to an American consulate what do you think will happen?  You will have to give them your real name and fingerprints to prove you are a U. S. citizen.  By the time they finish checking your records the organization will know where you are.  Why, they will probably even meet you plane when you get back to the states.”

“Then they will grab you and ask where the money is.  Since you don’t know the answer they will torture you.  You think a cane is bad on your ass, wait until they use one on your thighs or your breasts.  In the end they will probably cane you on your pussy.  And when that doesn’t get them the answers they want they will use a blowtorch and begin to burn you.  I saw that happen once the woman eventually went insane from the pain.  It doesn’t even matter if they believe your story about all that happened.  In the end you will have a very painful death.”

“I know you don’t have your freedom here but you are well cared for, well fed, have a pool, satellite television and even Isabel to talk with.  Yes I tie you down and have sex with you but you like being bound and forced and I don’t think I am incompetent as a lover.  You had better think twice about what you really want.”

Having said my piece I left her there in her tight bondage.  I knew it would become more and more uncomfortable over the hours but I was fed up with Kate.  I mean, I loved the woman but there is only so far I was prepared to go for her.

That Evening

I left Katie strung up the rest of the day and took my dinner in the dining room.  Katie begged to be let down but I ignored her.  I did feed her bites of food from my plate.  When I was done I walked around behind Katie and palmed her groin.  Sure enough she was moist.  Katie really got worked up by bondage, even when it was long and uncomfortable.

I unzipped my fly and took out my penis.  I had already been semi-hard gazing at her and it took no time at all to come to a full erection.  I slid into her and began pumping.  I knew that every time my hips hit her ass she felt the pain.  She grunted but had more sense than to protest.    Nevertheless, I pumped away until I came in her.  I think it was the first time I had used Katie without giving her at least one orgasm.

I let her cuffed hands down and she groaned with relief as her arms settled onto her back.  I untied her ankles and she tried to close her legs but this put a strain on her nipples and she had to bend her knees and hold a squatting position to ease the pull of the twine.  Finally I untied the twine from her toes and let her cautiously stand.  She was stiff from having held her constrained position for so long and her ass was welted and sore.

Using the twine tied to her nipple rings I led her upstairs into the master bath.  She was forced to move more quickly than her aching body would have preferred.  I shoved her into the shower stall and fastened the twine to the shower pipe.  I didn’t make it tight but she couldn’t back away.  I turned on the cold water and began to undress.  When I was also nude I added some hot water and waited for the shower to warm up.

Once the temperature was comfortable I stepped into the shower with her.  Her teeth were chattering from the cold water dousing but soon stopped as the warmer water brought her body temperature back up.  I washed her being especially careful of her ass but enjoying fondling her soapy breasts.  I also washed her hair.  I don’t know why but it has always struck me as a rather intimate thing.  I don’t think so, but perhaps I have a hair fetish.  Actually, I think it is just that it is a sort of role reversal.  Her thumbs were still cuffed behind her and her nipples attached to the shower pipe and yet here I was servicing her.  I guess I like the paradoxical nature of the Dom serving his sub.

After I had washed myself I turned off the water and took her out of the shower stall.  I patted her dry, again being especially gentle with her sore ass.  Then I dried myself and led her into the bedroom where I removed the twine from her nipple rings.  I couldn’t help but note that her nipples were prominent and engorged.  Apparently she had enjoyed my soapy hands on her breasts as much as I had enjoyed fondling them.  I asked her how her rear felt.

That ignited a spark, as she glared at me and said, “How the hell do you think it feels?”  Then she realized who she was talking to and in a much quieter tone added, “Master.”

I uncuffed her thumbs and recuffed them in front of her.  Then I lay back on the bed and told her, “In honor of your sore buns, I think we might try the female superior position.  You get to play cowgirl to my stallion and ride me tonight.”

She climbed onto the bed and straddled me using her cuffed hands awkwardly to hold me in position as she lifted herself and settled over me.  Lord, she felt good.  Once she had started me into her, Katie leaned forward and put her hands on my chest to balance herself.  She lowered herself wriggling and twisting to get the most comfortable angle.  This was a rather marvelous way to make love.  Slowly she lifted and lowered herself on me.  I reached up and fondled those lovely breasts of hers.  She leaned further forward so that I could capture a nipple in my mouth.  Her hands were pretty much trapped between us so I reached down and slid a hand between our groins to capture her clitoris.  I found the hard little nubbin without much difficulty and grasped it between my thumb and forefinger.  I pressed and twisted slowly keeping pace with her movements.

Fascinated by her nipple I wasn’t really looking at her but some how realized that she was looking at me the entire time.  Eventually my attention to her clit and nipple began to bring her to a peak and she sped up the rhythm.  I warned her that I couldn’t last much longer and she began to say “Cum, cum, cum.” Almost like a chant.  I lost it shortly afterward but she was very close and I was still spurting within her when she moaned and collapsed onto me.  I could feel her pussy pulsing around my now rapidly softening penis.  It was a very nice feeling.  I wrapped my arms around her holding her more or less on top of and we slept in that position that night.

Final Choices

The next morning, after brushing our teeth and whatnot, we went down to breakfast with Katie still having her hands cuffed in front of her.  I noted that she managed to eat with little or no trouble.  After breakfast I asked her if she still wanted to escape.  She replied, “Doesn’t every slave want to be free?”

I looked at her for a while and then took off the cuffs and reaching into my pocket took the key to Katie’s collar and unlocked the padlock.  I removed her collar and laid it on the table.  Isabel, who had been clearing away the breakfast dishes stopped and stared at us.  I ignored her and told Katie, “Well, go ahead.  You are free to leave.”

“Oh sure.  How far would I get naked?”

“Isabel, give me your dress.”

“What?” asked a startled Isabel.

“Your dress damn it.  Take it off and give it to Katie.”

With some hesitation Isabel unfastened the buttons on her uniform dress and handed it to Katie.  Both women looked at me in some wonder as Katie shrugged into the dress and buttoned it up the front.  Isabel had covered her breasts with her arms but forgot her near nudity and let her hands drop to her sides as she watched us.  Isabel was very curvy but somewhat shorter than Katie.  The dress fit snugly across Katie’s breasts and she was unable to button the top three buttons, but had a bit of looseness across the hips.  All in all it was far from a perfect fit but it covered Katie’s nudity.  In some ways it made her even more seductive and I had to keep myself from ripping it off of her.

“OK,” I said to Katie, “now you are free to go.”

“Without any money in a strange country…” Katie protested.

I pulled out my wallet and counted out $100, folded it and slipped it into the breast pocket of the dress.  Again I had to restrain myself from grabbing Katie.  Instead I said, “Now you have money.”

Katie looked at me and said, “You said you cared for me.  Why are you sending me away?”

“I do care for you.  So much that I don’t want to be your jailer.  I don’t want to be responsible for beating you when you try to escape, and knowing how headstrong you are I know you will try again.”

“And if I stay here you won’t beat me?” Katie asked.

“If you stay here you will be punished when you deserve it.  I will keep you bound and collared just as I have.  Sometimes the bondage will be light so you can help out around the house. You will have chores in addition to being my personal sex toy.  Sometimes I may decide to put you in stringent bondage.  If you stay I will take you to my bed whenever I please and pleasure myself with your body.  As it happens, making you cum pleases me too so you may get some enjoyment out of it but it will always be my choice.  You will be a slave.  Now you have a one time decision.  You have clothes and money and no collar so you can leave.  If not you will never have that choice again.”

Katie took two steps.  I thought she was heading towards the door but she only went as far as the table.  She picked up her collar and fastened it around her neck.  Then she came to me with the lock and handed it to me.  I took it and she bent forward lifting her hair away from her neck to give me better access.  I snapped the lock on the collar and she stepped back still looking into my eyes as she slowly, button by button, opened the dress.  She shrugged it off and went back to the table for the thumb cuffs.  Returning to me she asked, “Does Master want his slave’s hands in front or behind?”

I turned her away from me, pulled her arms behind her and used the thumb cuffs to lock them there.  Then I stepped up to her, wrapped my arms around her, one arm around her waist and one just below her breasts.  I said, “You are a magnificent slave.”

‘You took a hell of a risk, you know?”

“Let’s go put you on the treadmill for a couple of hours exercise.  We need to keep that glorious body in shape, don’t we?”

“A couple of hours?  I don’t need that.”

I watched Isabel as she put her dress back on.  She saw me stare at the pocket and reluctantly handed me my $100.  I hooked a finger into one of Katie’s nipple rings, smiled at her and said, “No you don’t need it but you look so sexy when you work up a sweat that I think I am going to make this a part of your daily routine.  Of course then I will probably have to shower with you to clean you up again.”

Katie wisely said nothing but as we started for the exercise room I thought I saw her smile.  I know I was as I gently tugged on her nipple ring and headed for the exercise room.