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Message-ID: <35200asstr$1013407805@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: dino@canoemail.com (Dino Dave)
NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 10 Feb 2002 15:06:00 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} Surviver: Cast Intros: The Major and Jane   file 5/7     Surviver: Part   05/22          (mf, ff, bdsm, bondage) - major.txt [1/1]
Date: Mon, 11 Feb 2002 01:10:05 -0500
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<1st attachment begin>

   The Major and Jane.

Major Edwin Kilpatrick (rtd) leaned back in his chair, whiskey in hand,
contemplating the screen in front of him.

    TEN D/S COUPLES NEEDED FOR ENDURANCE TYPE CONTEST
	    FIRST PRIZE: ONE MILLION DOLLARS!

    Home Showcase is inviting Dominant / submissive couples to
    participate in a contest for an upcoming pay per view special to
    be broadcast in the near future.


Kilpatrick frowned and again checked the 'sent by' information that
came with this email. He knew just from looking that it was one of
those anonymous services, and one of the better ones at that. Someone
had gone to some lengths to make sure he wouldn't know who had sent
this.

Kilpatrick wasn't surprised, a stickler for online security himself he
approved of the sender's discretion. Yet the Marine man in him still
thought that security was only good when it was YOUR side using it.
Information won battles, and it didn't matter if those battles were
fought with blood and steel between men of honor, or fought with words
with people who didn't even realize they were part of the game.

He who knows the most, wins the prize!

But there was nothing he could do about it at the moment, although he
wasn't totally without resources. A call to an old Marine buddy who
still worked in Intelligence would give him the identity of the sender
in a matter of days. If he needed to make that move he would.

Still, the body of the message was interesting indeed. He was well
aware of Home Showcase, and the kinds of things they put on their
controversial, but highly rated cable channel, so the contest was not
out of character. There were links to a website embedded in the message
giving him a little more information about the contest, but that wasn't
nearly as important as the conformation that it was all real.
Kilpatrick now knew that there WAS going to be a contest, broadcast on
television, with a Million Dollar prize for the couple that made it to
the end.

It was a challenge, and Kilpatrick was never one to back down from a
challenge. His military career had been filled with challenges and he
never backed away from any of them, even when one of them meant his
being 'forced' into early retirement. Kilpatrick no longer growled at
the way he had been kicked out of the Service after nineteen years of
faithful duty.

But yes it was a challenge, and the first step was getting to be one of
the initial ten couples invited on the show!  He saw that as the
hardest part, as it would mean competing against others he couldn't see
or do anything about. But once on the show, the enemy would be revealed
and he was sure his military mind could out plan the lot of them.

Civilians all, he thought, weak and undisciplined! Not a problem.
Kilpatrick stood up, his thoughts about discipline reminding him of a
task he had yet to do. He walked across his Spartan den to a series of
bookshelves where he took out three books on one of the upper shelves.
Behind them was a switch which he flipped before tugging on the
bookshelf. It moved silently on well oiled hinges and opened to reveal
a locked door. Kilpatrick selected a key from a large bunch on his belt
and opened it, passing through to the room beyond.

This room was also extremely neat, no messes around the Major! It was
also very differently furnished as this was his play room. Various
devices of torture and bondage were mounted at intervals around this
large room, all looking brand new despite the years of wear on some of
them. A lot of them he had built himself, being a handy man with tools,
but many he had lovingly purchased over time with money realized by the
trust fund of his late wife. That and his veteran's pension enabled him
to indulge full time in his little hobby.

The little hobby in question was crouched in a tiny cage just barely
big enough to contain her. Naked, except for a metal ring around her
neck, she knelt in a fetal position which was the only way she could
fit inside the cage.

She didn't look up, couldn't really, at Kilpatrick's approach but he
did see her stiffen when she heard him.

Kilpatrick smiled.

Without a word he unlocked the cage and opened one end, then without
looking back he strode over to the middle of the room. The girl in the
cage made no move to leave it.

Kilpatrick turned and watched her for a moment, then began. "Out!" he
yelled sharply.

The girl pushed herself out of the cage, emerging like a butterfly out
of a cocoon at a speed you would not have thought possible looking at
how tightly packed she had been. But the girl had by now plenty of
practice exiting the cage and had all the moves down pat. She ought to
have, considering all the drilling the Major had forced on her. So,
stiff and sore, she was on her feet in seconds, at attention.

"Left face!" ordered Kilpatrick, and the girl did a perfect military
turn, her bare foot thumping the concrete floor and her breasts
wobbling from side to side due to the quickness of her action. She now
faced the Major but kept her eyes straight ahead, focused on the
opposite wall. She knew to her error the penalties of looking directly
at him at the wrong times.

"Forward, two paces, MARCH!" was the next command, and the nude girl
executed them smartly.

Kilpatrick then began his inspection. He noted the deep red marks
across her knees, shins, and feet from the lattice on the bottom of the
cage. She had just spent the last ten hours in there with nothing soft
to protect her flesh. The bars of the lattice were wide enough not to
cut into her skin, but only just.

Other marks decorated her body, some fresh, some old. Whip and cane
marks across her back and buttocks, a few burns on her breasts and
thighs from cigarettes, and plenty of bruises and marks made by straps,
cuffs, chains, rope, and whatever else was on hand at various times to
bind her with. As Kilpatrick walked around her he noted all these marks
and wondered how they would look on TV and grew concerned. The bleeding
hearts might complain, he thought, so he decided to lay off the hard
stuff for a while so she could better heal up.

His thoughts were unknown to the girl of course, all she could see in
her immediate future was another day of torture. She carefully eyed the
open door of the room but knew that a try for it was hopeless. She had
made that mistake over a year before only to find that the door beyond
WAS locked. She ended up cowering in fear as the Major walked slowly
over to her. It had been a week since she had been able to walk again.

So she stood stock still as her tormentor examined every inch of her
body. She had long ago resigned herself to his scrutiny, and the looks
of the few that he allowed to see her. Her body was scarcely hers
anymore anyway. He decided everything about it now, even her toilet
functions. But it was her own damn fault.

Two years ago she had hired on as his live in housekeeper, and being
the curious sort she soon realized that the layout of the house didn't
make much sense. There was a room missing although there was no obvious
way into it. Not even windows on the outside. It was only after
watching a mystery on TV that she figured out the bookcase scam, and an
opportune moment with the Major's keys helped her gain access. But like
a mouse in a trap she couldn't get back out again. A simple metal key
allowed access past the locked door going in, but a keypad hooked up to
an electronic lock barred the way back out. IF she had only thought to
block the door open she wouldn't have spent the last year and a half as
his bondage sex toy! The equipment she discovered in surprise, she got
to know very intimately during that time.

She was jerked back to the present by the Major who came around and
stood right in front of her. Kilpatrick was not a tall man, in fact the
girl with her bare feet was the exact same height as the Major in his
boots. But he was a big man, well muscled, with a lethal air about him.
As a soldier he had 'Command Presence', code for an air of "Don't you
DARE mess with me because I can whip your ass without breaking a
sweat!" The girl was scared to death of him!

"You're going to need a haircut soon," Kilpatrick said to her. He kept
her hair at military regulation length, regulation for men that is. He
quickly tired long ago of her long hair getting in the way.

"Yes, Major," she answered, then she wondered if she should have. When
he spoke to her she was supposed to answer, but there were times when
it was hard to know if he was speaking rhetorically. She held her
breath.

Kilpatrick knew of her dilemma, there was very little mystery left in
her. He even caught her glance at the door a minute before even though
he had been standing behind her at the time. Her head had turned for
just a fraction, making him smile. It had taken him a long time to
break her down, using a combination of boot camp mentality and harsh
discipline but he had taken her down to basics. Now he was in the
process of rebuilding her the way he wanted her and he was rather
pleased with his progress. Six months ago he wouldn't have dreamed of
entering a contest such as the one he had just found out about, but he
was confident that his control over the girl was sufficient for the
task ahead of him.

Then and there he decided to put in an entry and he was determined to
win!

"Laundry duty, then lunch at 11:30 hours," he told her.

"Yes, Major," she answered, waiting for the final command.

Major Edwin Kilpatrick, formally of the 10th Cav, waited a beat,
admiring the quivering body before him, muscles sculpted though arduous
work outs. Then he gave the command.

"Dismissed!"

As the girl ran quickly out of the room to her duties, Kilpatrick
smiled once more at what lay in store for them. Then he frowned.
"Damn," he said to himself. "I guess I'll have to find a name for her
now!"

   ---------------------------------------------------------
<1st attachment end>


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