The next morning, Glennis pulled herself together and resolved never, ever to think about Carter again. He'd gone off--wherever he went when he wasn't with her, and she really had more pressing matters to focus on. James was at the crucial juncture of his training. The next few days would make all the difference. She had to be on top of her game.

From Glennis' observations, newly deflowered subjects tended to follow one of three predictable paths. There were the "ragers," as she called them--those who went into hyper-macho mode to try to compensate for their humiliating violations. These subjects threw things, cursed, made threats, tried to attack their trainers. Then there were the "avoiders." They refused to accept the reality of the situation and denied to themselves and everyone else that they'd been on the receiving end of a cock, despite the video evidence. Finally, there were the "bawlers," the ones who just curled up and sobbed broken-heartedly.

It surprised her that James fell into this last category, but then perhaps she had given him too much credit in the past.

She and Bradshaw left him to his weeping in one of the holding areas they used for such cases. He was unbound and untreated with the drug. He had entered the stage in his training when forced erections were no longer necessary or even advantageous. And sex was the last thing on James' mind after what he'd been through. He stayed huddled in the corner of the room for days, curled tightly into a ball while he cried.

Perhaps his extreme distress had something to do with the fact that the video of his humiliating public defloration played over and again on the monitor in his cell, the volume cranked way up every time it reached the part where James begged to have his ass fucked. It was a small touch, but an effective one, Glennis had found.

After James had healed physically and had grown a little calmer emotionally, she went to visit him.

He had stopped crying, but he still lay in the corner, facing the wall, listless and depressed. She went over to him and knelt down. He didn't turn around. She gently touched his shoulder.

He jerked away. "Don't you dare touch me!"

"I'm sorry, James."

He shook his head. "No, you're not. You enjoyed seeing me-- " He broke off, a tremor in his voice.

"I am sorry that you're so unhappy," she told him.

"Why? You arranged it. You sold me. You smiled the whole time he was raping me."

"Rape. Hmm. Is that what you think it was?"

He flipped over to face her, his eyes glittering angrily. "What the hell kind of question is that? Of course it was rape."

She shrugged. "I just remember how you begged to be fucked. Not because you were threatened or forced to. But of your own volition. How many rape victims do you know who do that?"

He flushed deeply. "It wasn't like that. You know that."

"Wasn't it?

"You tied me up."

"Hmm."

"I couldn't get away."

"That's true."

"I didn't want it."

"Maybe not. But let me pose a hypothetical for a moment. Think back to when you were on the police force. Imagine that some man came to you claiming to have been raped. Suppose as you began investigating the accusation you found that this person had willingly traded blow jobs to obtain special favors. That he put on a live sex show for an audience, that he fingered himself in front of who knows how many people, showing them all just how much he got off on anal stimulation."

James looked as if he'd just been slapped in the face.

Glennis continued. "Suppose you discovered that during the alleged rape this man agreed to be tied up and gagged. That he allowed himself to be prepared for penetration. That he stayed hard the whole time he was being fucked. And despite all his protests about being forced, managed to come three times during the course of the so-called assault. That he even demanded more, begged his alleged rapist to keep fucking him. That he wanted it harder and deeper and faster. Hmm, James? Would you have taken such a charge seriously? Or would you have thrown that person right out of the police station?"

James avoided her eyes. "It doesn't mean anything," he insisted.

"You don't think so? You don't think it matters that you came on another man's cock?"

"No!"

"Would you ever have imagined that was possible before the other night?"

"No," he reluctantly admitted.

"Then you've learned something about yourself. I think that matters. Don't you?"

"It doesn't mean I'm a faggot."

"No," she agreed. "But it does mean that you can find pleasure in the use of your body by another man. And that's good. Because there are going to be a lot of men who are going to use your body."

He shook his head, tears coming to his eyes. "No. Please."

"Remember when you said I was never going to let you go? Well, you were right, James. You need to forget all about that other life, that other person you used to be. That's all gone forever now."

"No!"

"Yes," she said firmly. "I bet you imagine people you used to know finding out what you've been doing. You picture their reactions and feel humiliated. But there's no need to torture yourself like that. You're here. They're there. And here, everyone expects you to act like a whore, to suck cocks and get fucked. Nothing could be more fitting as far as we're concerned. So you don't have to feel that we're judging you in any way. You don't have to feel ashamed of fulfilling your natural function."

"I don't want to get fucked ever again. I'm not a fag. I'm not."

Tears streaked down his cheeks. She wiped them away with her thumb. This time, he didn't pull away from her touch.

"Ah, James. You'll soon discover the same thing all women do when they lose their virginity. Once it's gone, it's gone. The barn door's open. The chickens have flown the coop. There's no point in trying to protect your virtue now. There's nothing left to save. After you've had intercourse once, there's really no reason not to have it again. And it does get easier and more pleasurable the more experience you have."

"You keep saying that. But I am never going to enjoy it."

"But you already did."

He shook his head frantically. "No!"

She sighed. "Oh, all right. Have it your way, James. Enjoy it or not. I really don't care. The simple fact is that you are a whore now. You will turn tricks. You will suck your customers' dicks. You will get fucked. Now, you can choose to do it the hard way. You can get your teeth knocked out while you're trying to resist some horny john who has his heart set on getting his cock down your throat. You can get your ass torn open the way you did the other night by clenching your muscles. Hell, some clients will even pay extra for an unwilling slut. The end result for you will be the same, either way. You will suck. You will get fucked. Period."

"Why are you doing this to me?" he asked pathetically.

She stroked his hair and looked deeply into his eyes. "I told you already. To teach you a lesson."

His lip trembled, and more tears fell as he mourned the irretrievable loss of his manhood.

"Oh, my poor, poor James. I know it's hard. I know it must seem so cruel. But you've been brainwashed as a man. You think of everything in terms of being on top or being on the bottom. You think letting a man take you is degrading. But you completely miss the power and the pleasure of it. Do you know how masterful you'll feel knowing you can make a man hard? Do you have any idea what kind of joy there is in surrender?"

The look on James' face told her that he didn't believe any such thing was possible.

"Oh, yes," she assured him. "I know it's not the kind of sexual pleasure you're used to. But you will come to appreciate the feeling you get from spreading your legs for a man, the exquisite vulnerability of opening yourself up to someone else, of giving a man access to your most tender, private places. You'll find an odd kind of strength in lying back and letting him climb on top of you and enter you. You'll take pleasure in his pleasure as he moves inside you. You'll feel proud of the way you make him moan, of the way you make him come."

James continued to cry.

"Ah, well," she said. "You'll see for yourself soon enough. Now, James, you have a decision to make. Whether you want to be cooperative or do things the hard way. So which is it going to be?"

"I don't want this," he protested, his voice shaking.

She caressed his cheek, wiping away more tears. "I know. But I already explained to you that it's inevitable. The only choice now is whether it's going to be hard or easy. Whether you're going to disappoint or please me. And I think you know by now how much better it is to stay in my good graces. If you willingly entertain clients, you'll have the same deal as before. After so many tricks, you'll be allowed your own pleasure. Put up a big fuss, and you forfeit that privilege."

She could see the terrible indecision in his eyes. If he agreed, how could he hold on to even the least little shred of self-respect? But if he didn't, what terrible things would happen to him?

"Tell me you're going to cooperate, James. Please," she coaxed. "I don't want to see you hurt. And I do want you to have pleasure. I promise to make it very, very good for you."

He struggled to reach a decision.

"All right," he finally said, so softly she could barely hear him. "Easy. I want to do it the easy way."

She beamed at him. "I knew you wouldn't let me down. I'm so happy! Now, there are just a few preparations we have to make before you get to work."

She took his arm and helped him to his feet.

"Preparations?" he said, with alarm.

"Don't panic. It's nothing terrible. I promise."

She led him to the door. Bradshaw was waiting outside.

"May I assist you, madam?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you. Could you help me escort James to the salon? He's made his decision, and he's ready to begin work."

"That's wonderful news," Bradshaw told James. "Congratulations."

James colored with embarrassment, but he didn't talk back. Glennis counted this as progress. She and Bradshaw walked with him to the salon at the end of the next corridor and led him inside.

It was probably the most pleasant environment James had seen since he had come to the compound. The room was bright with sunshine, and the walls were painted a cheerful yellow. There were green plants hanging in baskets from the ceiling. It looked like an upscale hairdresser's shop.

"Go lie down there," she told him, pointing to a table near the back of the room.

He did as he was told. Glennis smiled to herself. She was going to enjoy the new "cooperative" James.

"Now, the first step is to remove all your body hair," she told him.

"What?!"

"It's necessary, I'm afraid. Customers like smooth skin, whether the whore is male or female. Dawn will be doing the waxing," she said, pointing to her assistant who was testing the temperature of the wax. "The good news is that we've developed a special formula that inhibits the production of new cells in the hair follicle. So you'll only have to get waxed this once. Trust me. Women all over the world would kill for this."

James was clearly not comforted by this information.

"Okay," she said. "I'm going to leave you in Dawn's capable hands."

Dawn stepped forward, pushing a tray with the hot wax and removal strips on it over to the table.

"Just try to relax," she told James. "I'm going to start with one of the less sensitive areas."

She instructed him to hold out his arm, and she spread the wax in a stripe from his shoulder down to his elbow. She put the cloth strip over it and pulled it away quickly, without warning.

"Fuck!" James screamed. "What the hell are you doing to me?"

"The same thing women everywhere do to please men," Dawn answered, without sympathy.

She spread more wax from his elbow down to the back of his hand.

"Aaagh!" James yelled again when she pulled the strip away.

He continued to yell throughout the entire waxing, as Dawn denuded his arms and legs, underarms, chest, belly, even his face. When she was ready to do the sensitive areas, she looked to Bradshaw for help. He pulled out the stirrups that were hidden in a compartment along the bottom of the table. Before James could resist, he had fastened his ankles into the cuffs and spread his legs apart, exposing his genitals and anus.

"No!" James bellowed, his face turning bright red. "Don't you fucking touch me down there!"

Bradshaw held his upper body down while Dawn quickly slathered his pubic hair with wax and removed it.

"Aaaagh!" James screamed. "No!"

Glennis rolled her eyes as she watched the spectacle. She wondered what James thought she meant when she'd told him he was going to have all his body hair removed.

He protested even more vocally as Dawn prepared his balls with the wax.

He thrashed his head back and forth and moaned, "I don't want to be bald down there. Please!"

Dawn ignored him and ripped the hair from his scrotum. James whimpered. Glennis couldn't help smiling. Dawn was nearly finished now. She spread the wax along his crack and around his hole. When she pulled the strip away, James was completely smooth. He would never have hair on his body again.

Bradshaw released his legs from the stirrups.

Dawn ran a hand appraisingly over his skin. "Like velvet," she told him. "You should thank me. I really did a good job on you."

James stared at her as if she were crazy.

Dawn shrugged. "Whatever."

She collected the used strips and wheeled her tray away.

Glennis went to James' side. "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she asked him.

"I'm-- It's disgusting," he said, indignantly.

"Did you ever want to be with a hairy whore, James?"

"And it hurt," he insisted.

"Oh, please. Don't even try to complain to me about it."

"What else are you going to do to me?" he wanted to know.

"Just give you a little adornment."

"What does that mean?"

"Piercing," she said.

"No way!" he said.

"Way. Now, you said you were going to cooperate. Has that changed? Do you want to start doing things the hard way?"

He swallowed hard. "No. I want it easy. Please."

"Good then. All you have to do is behave yourself, and everything will be fine. Bradshaw is an expert at piercing. He'll take good care of you."

"My pleasure, madam," Bradshaw said.

Bradshaw took out what looked like a pricing gun from a department store.

"What the hell is that?"

"It's for piercing your ears. It's easier and less painful than a needle. Hold still," Bradshaw told him.

He lined up the tip of the instrument where he wanted the earring and pressed the button. The machine made a sharp clicking sound. James screamed.

"Ow!" he complained. "That hurts!"

"James, don't be such a baby," Glennis told him. "Little girls line up in shopping malls to pay good money to have this done. And they don't whine and complain about how painful it is, either."

Bradshaw put a second stud in the same ear. James was too ashamed to yell out again, but he did wince. Bradshaw moved to the other ear and gave him three piercings there.

"These are starter studs," Bradshaw explained to him. "In a few weeks when the holes have healed, you'll be able to change your earrings."

"We have some nice gold hoops picked out for you," Glennis said.

"It'll be very attractive," Bradshaw said.

James made a face.

"Now for the other place," Bradshaw said.

"What other place?" James asked, with alarm.

Bradshaw pressed an ice cube against his nipple.

"You'll need to hold very still for this," he told James.

"No. God. No."

"Don't fidget, James," Glennis warned him.

"Please. Not my nipples."

"You should be grateful it's not your scrotum," Glennis said. "That's quite popular in some circles."

"Don't move," Bradshaw told him.

He pierced James' left nipple with a sterilized needle and quickly inserted a gold hoop. James gasped in pain.

"They'll match your earrings," Glennis pointed out, trying to cheer him up.

"Now, stay still while I do the other one," Bradshaw told him.

James whimpered while Bradshaw completed his work.

"There," Glennis said. "Doesn't that look nice."

"Very becoming," Bradshaw agreed.

James looked down at his red and swollen nipples with the gold hoops threaded through them. A stray tear slid down his cheek.

"Now, now," Glennis said. "Don't be so unhappy. You'll get used to it. I promise. And the piercing will make your nipples more responsive. You'll enjoy that. You'll see."

"Tell me that's all," James said, pitifully.

"Well--" she said.

"What now?"

"Just one more thing. You can get up for this."

James slid off the table. He looked relieved to be allowed to stand. Bradshaw opened one of the drawers in the cabinet and removed the item they would need.

"What's that?" James asked, suspiciously eying the leather straps.

"It's a chastity belt," she said.

"What the hell?"

"You don't think your customers will be interested in your erection, do you? Hardly. They never care about the whore's pleasure. Some of them may even like to pretend you're a woman. We can't have you getting hard and ruining the illusion. And since we know you are likely to get an erection while you're being fucked, we can't take any chances."

"Hey! I did not get hard from being-- you know. It was that damned drug you gave me."

"And that's the good news. From now on, no more drug."

It took James a moment to process that. "Really?" he said, disbelievingly.

"Really," she assured him.

Of course, she didn't bother to mention that his prostate had already absorbed enough of the drug that it was permanently sensitized. He would start to get hard any time he was fucked. And the chastity belt would make that quite painful.

"Now, I want you to hold still while Bradshaw puts it on you," she told him.

It was really quite a simple concept. The belt forced the penis down and kept it there. The control was so absolute that James almost appeared to have no penis at all. An erection was absolutely impossible while wearing it. The belt did leave the scrotum accessible, since many clients enjoyed abusing a whore's balls. Leather straps kept the belt anchored firmly in place and accentuated James' ass cheeks. There was a small, strong padlock securing it, so it could not be removed without a key.

"Shit!" James said, as Bradshaw finished fastening the belt in place.

"Now there are a few things you'll need to know. The belt is designed to be worn continuously. It will only come off when one of your trainers is washing you or when you're allowed to come. You can use the bathroom as usual while wearing it, but you will have to urinate sitting down."

James groaned. For many men, Glennis realized, this was the final indignity. Of course, she knew, even if James didn't, that it was only one of many indignities awaiting him.

"Finally--and this is going to be hard to accept, I know--you will no longer be allowed to have your cock touched."

"But you said--" James started to protest.

She waved her hand. "I said you'd be allowed to come. And you will be. But from anal stimulation only."

James colored. "You mean--"

"When you've earned your reward, you'll be allowed to fuck yourself with a dildo until you reach orgasm."

"That's-- How can you--"

"I know it's difficult to accept. A paradigm shift always is. But you have to start thinking about your body differently. This is your sex now." She rested her hand on his ass. "The source of your pleasure. Your cock is nothing more than a biological necessity now. After a while, you won't even think about it any more. It will have no more special meaning to you than your elbow or your knee."

He shook his head. "That's never going to happen. I'm not going to let you turn me into some-- some pussy!"

"Don't say that so disrespectfully, James. As a woman, I just might take offense. Now, there's only one more accessory you'll need. Bradshaw, do you have the boots ready?"

"Yes, madam. Here they are."

He held them out to her.

"Go sit down and put these on, James," she told him.

"You've got to be kidding."

"They complete the look," she said.

James sighed, but he did as she asked. After allowing his nipples to be pierced and his cock to be caged, it would have been silly to risk her disapproval over something as small as a pair of shoes.

He pulled them on and zipped them up. They had been specially made based on her instructions and a quick sketch she'd drawn. The boots were sleek, shiny black leather, with a blocky, two-inch heel. They hugged James' legs and came all the way up to mid- thigh. She had gotten the idea from watching "Pretty Woman." It was the kind of footwear that practically screamed "prostitute."

"Don't be shy, James. Model them for us," she said.

James blushed again, but he didn't argue with her. He got to his feet and lurched forward unsteadily, the heels giving him trouble.

"Take your time," she told him. "You just need some practice."

It was always a question, how to outfit a whore. She had considered leaving him naked except for the chastity belt. She knew other people would have dressed him up in women's lingerie. But she didn't want to spoil his masculinity. That was the thrill for her, seeing him degraded in all his maleness. The boots were the perfect touch, because they made him seem even more exposed and vulnerable than if he were wearing nothing at all. At the same time, though, he still looked like a man.

A man who was a shameless slut.

She smiled. "Very nice."

The following day, James began his life as a whore. Bradshaw, always inventive, had him work from a swing, so his lack of experience and enthusiasm would be less obvious. It also added to his sense of being out of control of his body, something every whore had to get used to. Bradshaw drummed up James' first customers from among ex-cons he'd arrested--pornographers, drug dealers, pimps--all kinds of lowlife criminals. As Bradshaw said, it would almost be like old times for James.

The swing could be positioned in various ways to give customers easy access to James' mouth and ass. Sometimes, he was on his stomach, his butt in the air, his legs trapped in the straps, his shoulders held in place, making it impossible for him to move from the humiliating pose or to turn around to see who was using him. Other times, he was on his back, his legs hoisted and spread wide, leaving him splayed and vulnerable, at the mercy of his customers, with no choice but to watch as men he'd sent to prison vigorously violated him.

The clients got to pick which position they preferred. Needless to say, the ex-cons enjoyed themselves a great deal more than James did.

Glennis watched from the observation room. James was currently on his stomach. He had already entertained five customers and was in the middle of servicing his sixth, the last of the day. The john was a penny-ante criminal, involved in every sort of low-level hustle imaginable, including trafficking in pornography. That was how he had run up against James and ended up in prison.

The man had served eight months in the maximum security penitentiary, where things apparently had not gone too easily for him. He had only been free a few days when Bradshaw tracked him down. As Glennis watched him using James, it was clear to her that he relished the chance to do to his arresting officer the same things that had been done to him in prison.

"Oh, God," he moaned, as he ravaged James' ass, using the straps of the swing for leverage. "I'm fucking this cop's butt. I can't believe I'm fucking a goddamned cop up the butt."

Glennis couldn't help smiling. They all said the same thing. Apparently, this was every criminal's wet dream come true, to have a cop at their mercy. And from the look on James' face, it was every cop's worst nightmare.

"God, you're tight," the con told James. "You feel so good. So hot. So fucking tight."

James was red in the face, and his lip trembled. But he wouldn't let himself cry. Glennis had noticed that this was a point of honor with him. No matter how much he sobbed afterwards, he never broke down in front of his johns.

The con's moans grew louder. He started to thrust faster and harder.

"AAAGH!" he screamed as he came.

And James' face crumpled, the way it always did when he felt a man's semen spurting inside him.

"God," the con said, as he collapsed onto James' back. "That was great."

When he got his breath back, he straightened up and pulled out.

"You are one fine fuck," he told James.

James knew better than to talk back to a customer. He stayed silent and kept his eyes lowered.

The con pulled his pants on. "I never knew cops had such tight asses. Or I would have butt fucked one of you boys a long time ago. Ah, well. Doesn't matter. From now on, I can always come and see you whenever I get an itch for cop pussy, right?"

He laughed.

"See you 'round," he said and headed for the door.

Glennis went out to the hallway to meet him.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself," she said.

"Yes ma'am, thank you. I sure did. I was just telling the detective what a tight pussy he has. Real nice."

"Yes, James is definitely something special. He was a virgin until very recently, you know."

"Shit, he still feels cherry."

"I'm so glad you enjoyed him. Do come back. And I hope you'll tell your friends. You can always get in touch with us through the same contact."

"Hell, I'm going to come back as soon as I can. And I'll bring a whole bunch of guys with me who'd love nothing more than to nail Detective Henderson's ass."

"Oh, a gang bang. That will be nice. James has never had more than one client at a time. Having guys lined up to take their turn with him will certainly expand his horizons."

The man laughed. "Won't it, now?"

She smiled. "Well, thank you for your visit. Bradshaw will see you out. Of course, we'll need you to observe the same security measures that you did on the way in."

"No problem. I don't mind wearing a blindfold for something this good."

Bradshaw motioned to the man. "Just follow me this way, sir."

"Sir, huh?" The con smiled brightly. "I like this place. A lot."

Bradshaw escorted him to the exit. Glennis went in to check on James. After his first day of turning tricks, she felt he deserved a little consolation. He'd be hungry for a woman's touch after being used so callously by men for hours on end. It was the perfect opportunity to show him the erotic, pleasurable side of getting penetrated.

She found him sobbing, still suspended in the swing, the evidence of the day's activities dripping from between his thighs.

"How are you, James?" she asked him.

His shoulders shook. He didn't answer.

"I know. I know." She caressed his back. "It's a terrible life."

She stroked his hair soothingly.

"Now you know how all those working girls you hassled felt after they'd spent a night servicing johns--men who didn't see them as human, just as a warm, tight hole to fuck."

He sobbed harder.

"Now you know exactly what that's like." She put a hand on his butt cheek and lightly stroked him.

He flinched. She dipped her fingers in the come drooling from his ass and wrote the word "whore" across his back.

"How does it feel, James? Still think those women you exploited got what they deserved? That they wanted it?"

"I never realized," he said, brokenly.

She nodded. "I know." She stroked his side. "That's why I had to show you."

She bent down and whispered in his ear.

"Have you remembered who I am yet?" she asked.

He shook his head. "But I'm sorry. I swear to God. For whatever I did."

"Oh, you did to me what you did to all the girls, James. Only I wasn't quite what you took me for. Not that you particularly cared. That's what I remember the most about you. Your arrogance. You didn't give fucking me a second thought. You just took, like you owned me. So I really needed you to know how that feels, what it's like to be treated like a whore. You know now, don't you, baby?"

He nodded, the tears streaming down his face.

"My poor, poor James. Those men really put you through it today, didn't they?"

His back hitched with sobs.

"Men can be such pigs. They'll just fuck you and fuck you and fuck you, without caring whether you get any pleasure or not. I know. I know."

She wiped away James' tears and kissed him. He closed his eyes, savoring the small gesture of tenderness.

"I could give you pleasure, James," she said, against his mouth. "You've been such a good boy. I'd like to reward you. Would you like that? Hmm?"

"Mmm," he responded.

"Would you like it if I made love to you? Hmm, baby? If I took you to my bed and kissed you and fucked you until you came so hard you saw a whole cosmos full of stars in your head. You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you?"

She moved her hands over him, down his back, cupping his butt, stroking his thighs, reaching beneath him to fondle his balls. They were drawn up tightly against his body.

She tapped the front of his chastity belt, causing his dick to leap. He groaned in pain. "Would you like me to take this off?" she asked him. "Let that big, gorgeous cock of yours free? Hmm, baby? Can I play with you? Can I fuck you?"

He wouldn't look at her. He just nodded. But that wasn't nearly good enough for her. She took his face in her hands and made him meet her eye.

"You have to ask me, baby. Ask me nice."

"Please," he said, tears trembling in those blue, blue eyes of his.

She smiled and kissed him. He opened his mouth to her, but waited, sweetly, obediently, until she deepened the kissed. She rewarded him and stroked his tongue with hers. He moaned in the back of his throat. She pulled back.

"Tell me what you want."

"I--" He looked at her helplessly, as if he didn't know how to form the words.

She moved her hands down from his shoulder, circled teasingly around his collar bone, inched down until she came to his nipples, still puffy from the piercing. She circled the swollen nipples lazily, and they hardened.

"All you have to do is tell me."

He whimpered. She gently tugged on the gold rings.

"Agh!"

"Tell me!" she demanded.

"Fuck me." His mouth trembled. "Please. I want you to fuck me."

She kissed him again, letting him into her mouth this time. "I want that, too."

She stepped away and motioned for Bradshaw.

"Get him down and clean him up," she said.

"Yes, madam."

Glennis smiled. This was the kind of satisfaction a Fury lived for.

Bradshaw and two other assistants undid the fastenings and helped James out of the swing. Bradshaw took him into the adjoining bathroom. Glennis could hear the sound of water running in the sink. When they returned, James had been well scrubbed, and he smelled of sandalwood, her favorite scent. Bradshaw always thought of everything.

"All right," she said. "Show James the way to my room."

Bradshaw nodded and escorted James out to the hallway. She let them go ahead of her, so she could enjoy watching the movement of James' muscular buttocks as he walked. He limped a little, and she knew his ass must be sore.

When they got to her room, Bradshaw turned down the bed and instructed James to lie on his back.

Then he turned to her. "You'll need these," he said, handing her the key to James' chastity belt.

She smiled. "Thank you."

He nodded and closed the doors behind him as he left.

Glennis went to kneel on the bed beside James. "Are you ready to get this thing off your cock?"

He nodded eagerly, and she smiled.

"Okay, baby. Here we go, then." She fitted the key into the lock and freed James' trapped penis.

He groaned in relief and immediately reached for himself. He was already half hard.

She batted his hand away. "Don't be silly. You know you're not allowed to touch yourself."

He made a pitiful sound in the back of his throat, and his eyes pleaded with her to do something to ease his arousal.

She bent over, pressed a kiss to the crease of his thigh and whispered against his soft, hairless skin. "Soon. I promise. You'll come so hard the world will go gray."

She got off the bed. He moaned needily.

"Just watch," she told him. "I'm going to put on a little show for you, baby."

She moved to the foot of the bed. His eyes greedily followed her. She slowly pulled the silk blouse from the waistband of her skirt, eased open each button, let the blouse slide from her shoulders and flutter to the floor.

James' eyes grew huge, and they didn't stray from her for a single second. She wasn't sure his blink reflex was even still working.

She turned around, so he could watch as she undid the buttons on her skirt and ever so slowly slid down the zipper. Her hips swayed as she pushed the fabric down over her hips, the silk rustling softly as she let the skirt fall to her ankles. She stepped out of it. James sucked in his breath.

"Don't even think about touching yourself," she told him, not needing to look around to know that he was reaching for his cock.

He groaned loudly in frustration. She smiled to herself. This was the elemental power every woman wielded, to give a man what he needed or to withhold it, completely at her whim. Glennis found moments like this oh, so delicious.

"Be a good boy," she told him. "Or you won't get your reward. You do want this, don't you?"

"Yes," he said, his voice thick with lust.

"Good," she said. "Now, watch."

She reached behind her back, unclasped her bra, removed it and threw it over her shoulder onto the bed.

"God," James gasped.

"Do you want me to turn around, baby?"

"God, yes."

"Please?"

"Yes. Please. Please!"

She smiled at him over her shoulder. "You beg so prettily, James. How can I ever deny you anything when you ask so sweetly?"

She turned around and slowly moved toward the bed. She'd left on her panties, garters, stockings and high heels. James struck her as the stereotypical sort who would enjoy that porn film look. If his glittering eyes and trembling hands were any indication, he did, in fact, appreciate it. She knelt beside him on the bed again. She could feel the heat of his breath against her arm.

"You're so beautiful," he said.

She kissed his ear and whispered, "You say the sweetest things, James. Every time."

He looked confused. She laughed.

"Never mind, baby."

She leaned over and kissed him. He moaned softly against her mouth. She deepened the kiss, and he moaned more urgently.

"So sweet," she told him.

She pulled back to look at him. His eyes were wide and dilated with need.

"You want to touch my breasts?" she asked. "You seemed to like them the last time. You told me I had tits that just begged to be held. You probably don't remember that, but you did say it. So why don't you hold them now, James? Go on."

He stared up at her, licked his lips and reached for her.

"That's it, James. Touch me. Make me feel good."

And he did, gently, skillfully, cupping her breasts in his broad palms, skimming the nipples with his thumbs, making them swell and harden.

"So good," she said, stroking up and down his arms. "Spread your legs for me, baby. You need to learn to show yourself off. You don't want to keep your sweet places hidden. That's what everybody wants to see."

He eagerly obeyed her, without hesitation or protest.

She smiled broadly. "Oh, yeah, baby. You're so sexy like that."

She pressed a kiss to his belly. His muscles trembled beneath her lips.

"Doesn't it excite you?" she asked. "Even just a little. To know how hot you can make someone just by opening your legs for them?"

He blinked at her, lost in a sensual daze, unable to answer.

She moved down his body, to kneel between his legs. He began to breathe even harder. She ran her fingers lightly up his legs, from his ankles to his knees, a delicate little tease.

"God!" he panted.

She laughed, luxuriating in her command of his body. This was her element. This was what a Fury lived for.

"Touch me," he begged.

She kissed the insides of his thighs. "Oh, baby. No," she said, her mouth against his supple skin, her breath teasing him. "That's not what we're here for. Now, what should you be asking me to do to you?"

He colored brightly and ducked his head. But he did whisper, "Fuck me."

She fondled his thighs and then slid off the bed. A half-strangled animal sound of protest came out of him.

"Sshh," she soothed. "I'll be right back."

She picked up the dildo harness and strapped it on. She lubed the toy cock and brought the tube of slick stuff back to bed with her. She knelt between James' thighs again. His cock still rested needily against his belly. But there was tension in his body that hadn't been there a moment before. The sight of the dildo made him nervous. As much as he wanted her, he couldn't help being afraid of getting fucked.

She stroked her hands over his body reassuringly, caressing his belly, his hips, his calves and thighs.

"It's okay. It's okay," she kept assuring him.

Gradually, she could feel him relaxing. Soon enough, his body was trembling with need again. She squirted some lube onto her fingers and gently began to rub the outside of his hole. His body clenched involuntarily.

"Just relax," she coaxed. "I'm going to make you feel good. I promise."

He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, trying to calm down. She could feel his buttocks unclench. She stroked his entrance seductively.

"Some people think this part of the body is dirty and disgusting. I bet that's what you think, isn't it, James? It embarrasses you to have people touch you down here. But there's nothing dirty about it. Do you know what connoisseurs compare it to?" She circled his anus teasingly. "A rosebud. Doesn't that make you feel pretty, James? Doesn't that make you want to show off that sweet little place? Hmm, baby? Are you going to do it for me? Pull your legs back and let me get a good look at that pretty little rosebud of yours."

He slowly drew his knees up to his chest and held them there. His gaze never wavered from her, his expression mesmerized, as he exposed himself to her.

"Oh, yeah, baby," she said, encouragingly. "Such a sweet little spot. So tender. So responsive."

She pressed a light kiss to his hole. He gasped in surprised pleasure.

"See how good it can feel?" she asked.

He nodded, his eyes filled with amazement.

"You don't have to be embarrassed about being touched here," she said, as she began gently working a finger inside him. "There's nothing wrong with feeling good. Nothing wrong with giving yourself over to pleasure."

She could feel the heated clench of his muscle around her finger. He had winced when she'd first penetrated him, his ass sore from the day's workout. But now he was staring at her, transfixed, his eyes wide and bright. She began stroking his passage. The fever in his expression grew hotter.

"You're luckier than most men," she told him, adding a second finger. "They never get to experience this. They live their whole lives terrified of it. They never realize what a powerful thing it is to be penetrated."

She felt for his prostate and gently worked it. He gasped, an expression of rapt ecstasy on his face.

"They don't think it's right for a man to be the one who's taken," she said, working in yet another finger. James groaned. "But if it's so wrong, then how come it feels so good? Why are men's bodies built to get such intense pleasure from it?"

She twisted her fingers, playing with his little fuck button. A jolt of pure electric thrill ran through James' body. His cock jerked and spat.

"Please," he moaned.

"Tell me what you want, baby."

"God. I need-- Please!"

"What do you need, James? All you have to do is ask me for it." She continued to finger fuck him. "How does your ass feel, baby?"

James' hands clenched as he held onto his knees, his knuckles turning white. "On fire," he said, the tendons standing out on his neck.

"You want more?"

He nodded, eagerly.

"Tell me."

"I--"

"Just say it."

"I want you to--"

"It's going to feel so good."

"--fuck me. God. Please! Fuck me! Fuck me!"

She pulled her fingers out of his body. "Oh, yeah, baby. All you ever had to do was ask." She positioned the dildo at his entrance. "Let yourself go, James. Let me take you."

He pulled her legs further into his chest. "Uuuuunh, yeah," he moaned. "Please. Take me."

She gently pushed inside. He stopped breathing for a moment.

"See how sweet surrender can be, James?" She began to move inside him, slowly, carefully.

"Oh, God," he said, a sensual flush creeping over his face.

Glennis let the rhythm start to build, moving her hips just so, to work his prostate with every stroke.

"Oh, God. Oh, God!" he panted.

James wiggled his hips, temptation written all over his face.

"Oh, yes. Yes," she encouraged him. "Move with me, baby. Fuck me back."

He couldn't restrain himself any longer, couldn't fight his natural instincts. He began to meet her thrusts, ardently fucking himself on the dildo that was stretching his ass, the tip of his pink tongue peeking out from between his teeth as he grunted with exertion.

He obviously loved it.

And Glennis knew this was the moment she'd been waiting for, to have him at her mercy the way she'd once been at his. Not just to fuck him, but to make him moan and tremble and burn inside, just the way she had.

The very thought of it made her feel like her insides were liquefying, setting to boil. Every thrust into James' body sent sparks from her pussy all the way up her spine. She cupped her breasts, and it felt like every nerve in her body was superheating.

James puffed and heaved. The sight of her touching herself nearly undid him. She moved faster inside him.

"Ooooooh!" he yelled out, his face stark with need.

She gripped her breasts harder, fucking him wildly. He met her thrust for thrust--with equal force, equal intensity, equal desire.

"Tell me you love it," she said.

"Oh, God!"

"Tell me."

"S'good," he gasped.

"Tell me."

"I love it," he whispered.

"TELL ME!" she commanded.

"I FUCKING LOVE IT," he screamed. "I LOVE YOU FUCKING ME. PLEASE. FUCK ME! FUCK ME HARDER! MAKE ME COME!"

She shoved inside him. He bucked and seized, his jaw clenched, his eyes wide and dazed. And then he orgasmed, ferociously, his entire body shuddering, his cock spraying wave after wave of come, splashing his belly, his arms, chest, face, the sheets, more come than Glennis thought she'd ever seen before.

And there was the most stunned expression on his face, as if he couldn't quite believe that this was his body, his dick. He'd clearly never come like this before, and it must have been bewildering to him, knowing it was because he'd just had his ass fucked.

Glennis felt the hot waves of pleasure building in her pussy. She knew James' confusion would give way to shame soon enough when he realized what he'd done, what he'd said, that there was no drug to blame this time. She cried out as that image pushed her over the edge and plunged her into the liquid heat of climax.

When she came back to herself, James was lying perfectly still, slack-jawed, breathing heavily. She pulled out. He still didn't move.

"I told you that you'd love it," she said, sliding off the bed, removing the harness, pulling on her robe.

He didn't answer, but his eyes followed her every movement. And then she understood. James wasn't sorry. If she wanted to fuck him again right now, he would happily spread his legs for her. She had him, completely. To fuck, to torment, to rule. All hers.

And that had always been her secret wish, her shameful weakness, this desire to have James a willing, obedient servant in her bed. Oh, she'd told herself it was simply a project, just a Fury doing her duty. But the truth was that her plans for James had always had more to do with her pleasure than his punishment.

There had always been this picture in the back of her mind: James, nude, ready to serve, kneeling at her side as she worked, dined, entertained friends; James, attending to her needs, smiling up at her with adoration; James, in her bed, an eager little plaything, intent upon pleasing her, lying back, spreading his legs, begging her to use him however she saw fit.

She vowed one day she'd have him at her mercy.

And now that she did, now that he lay submissive and come-covered on her silk sheets, she felt the desire draining away from her. She'd wanted to tame him, to take his power. And she had. But when she looked at him, the spark was gone. He wasn't the man he once was. And that's who she had really wanted all these years. This sniveling stranger held no attraction for her.

He stared at her intently as she thought all these things, his expression beseeching, the message clear. He wanted her to come back to bed. He was willing to grovel for it, to do anything to get more of her kisses, more of her touch.

She pulled the sheet up from the foot board and covered him with it. "Go to sleep," she said. "It's been a big day."

He looked decidedly disappointed.

"Shut your eyes now," she said, in her most soothing voice.

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep. He must have been exhausted after the day's events. She watched him in repose, his face relaxed, his body sprawled. He was still as handsome as ever. He just wasn't hers anymore.

She showered and changed into clean clothes. Then she called Bradshaw. She met him outside the door to her room.

"I have some work to finish up," she told him. "I'll be in my office. Let James sleep. But when he wakes up, I want you to take him back to his training room."

Bradshaw nodded. "Very well, madam."

If he felt surprise that she wasn't keeping James with her for the night, he didn't betray it. Glennis returned his nod and headed down the hall toward her office. This was what she always did when things got confusing. She went back to basics. She concentrated on being a Fury.

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