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From: boonthailand@hotmail.com (Boon)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 26 Aug 2004 02:47:28 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} Gentleman's Club (Part 3)
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Date: Thu, 26 Aug 2004 06:10:03 -0400
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When she was released again Amanda was half dragged, half carried down
a hall and into a large darkened room. In the centre of the room was a
large chair lit by a narrow beam of light. And 'he' was sitting on the
chair, looking as arrogant as God himself.
        She was unshackled and released, whereupon she sagged weakly
to her knees in dazed mental exhaustion.
        "That's the proper position, at least," he said with a sneer.
"Are you willing to pay the proper respect a slave gives her master
now, dog, or do you want more beatings?"
        Amanda's thinking processes were too muddled to understand how
to answer that one so she said nothing, staring at him blankly.
        "Are you ready to obey?" he demanded.
        That was easy. She knew what answer was expected of her.      
  "Yes," she whispered.
        "Yes, master!" he thundered.
        "Yes, master," she said bleakly.
        "Prostrate yourself before your master, dog!"
        Again she stared at him.
        "On your belly, slut!"
        She quickly lay down on her stomach, pressing her still sore
breasts into the cold stone floor.
        He lifted his bare foot out of a slipper and held it before
her face. Again she stared at it, and he growled impatiently.
        "Lick it, you bitch!"
        She stared at it a moment in confusion, then obeyed, arching
her slender neck and pushing out her small pink tongue, sliding it
along his heel and the side of his foot.
        "Keep at it, whore," he said with satisfaction and contempt.
"Lick it all over. I'll tell you when to stop."
        And so, on her belly, Amanda lapped steadily all over his
foot. And when he ordered her she obediently took his toes into her
mouth and suckled at them as she licked. Her mouth and throat were as
dry as before, but she knew she had to obey.
        "Would you like some water, slave?"
        "Yes, master!"
        He gripped her thick hair and yanked her up to her knees, then
let her drink repeatedly from his cupped hand before placing the glass
to her lips. She drank deeply, never so delighted at the taste of
clear, cold water.
        When she had finished the glass he stroked her hair and smiled
at her, and she felt an unreasonable delight and gratitude.
        "Thank you, master," she exclaimed.
        He smiled benignly as he looked down at her, then pushed his
hand against her face and shoved her back, getting to his feet.
        "Follow me, dog," he said. "On your belly. Crawl on your belly
after your master!"
        She felt a twinge of anger at that, but it was
quicklysuppressed by the desire to avoid the kind of horrendous
beating and torture he'd inflicted on her before.
        She crawled slowly across the floor after him, and she saw a
small pool there, a sunken tub of sorts. At his order she slunk over
the edge and into the water, crossed it, then climbed over the edge at
the other side, still keeping her belly to the floor.
        "Congratulations, slut. You are reborn as a slave," he said.
"I want you to repeat the words when the uh, er, Bishop here says
them. Understand?"
        "Yes, Master," she said dazedly, more than a little out of
sorts yet.
        A man in impressive looking robes stood next to 'him', and
next to him on a table with a silken cloth were several round metal
objects.
         "Do you wish to be this man's slave?" the robed man demanded
imperiously.
        She was tempted to say no, but could guess the results.
       "Yes," she whispered.
       "Speak louder," he snapped.
       "Yes," she said.
        "You will repeat these words after me: I give my life, my body
and my soul to you to do with as you choose."
        "I give my life, my b-body and my soul to you do as you
choose," she said dully.
        "I willingly become a slave, the lowest creature in the
universe."
        She repeated it, and the rest that followed.
        "I am a worthless, useless, filthy, evil creature who's only
salvation lies in obedience and servitude. I will serve my master
always, obey his orders with pleasure, strive at all times and in all
ways to please my master. I abandon any pretence of humanity, becoming
a mere thing, a possession, a tool of little use or worth in the hopes
of redeeming my evil."
        The robed man then handed her a large gleaming metal collar
open at the middle.
        "This collar has a lock with no key," he said. "Once it is
placed around your throat you become a slave, and it can never be
removed."        She stared at it, her eyes blinking rapidly.
        "Place it around your throat and lock it," he ordered.
        She hesitated, but at a glare from 'him' she raised her hands,
slipped the thing around her throat and then, after another
hesitation, pushed it together. It locked with an audible click and
the man lifted another, smaller ring.
        Soon she had placed the smaller metal bracelets around her
wrists and ankles, and locked them in place forever, as the robed man
intoned.
        Each of them had a small round ring set into it, and her
master quickly attached short lengths of chain binding her ankles
together. Her wrist bracelets were snapped together, the two rings
locking tightly, binding her wrists in front of her.
        'He' smiled as he stood closer to her then. He opened his
trousers and drew out his organ, gripping her hair tightly and pulling
her head back as he rubbed himself over her face. He pushed it against
her mouth and she opened her lips, sliding them down the length of his
shaft as he sighed in pleasure and happiness.
        She began to bob up and down, working her tongue against the
underside of his tool as he loosened his grip on her hair and slid his
fingers through the long tendrils.
        He came quickly, filling her mouth with his semen, and she
swallowed automatically, glad of the liquid, an image
suddenlyflickering into her mind of her boyfriend Neil and how he used
to caress her as she fellated him.         Gabrielle took little
notice of the woman who accompanied Jubal's visitor. There were many
slaves around, and most men had one or two following him around. This
one was partially dressed in thigh high leather boots, long black
gloves, and a tight shining leather corset of sorts.
       "Come here, Jew," Jubal ordered.
        She moved forward quickly, her chains clanking, then stopped
before them, head bowed.
        She was wearing heavy shackles on wrists, ankles and throat,
with thick chain linking them.
       "What do you think of this ugly, Jewish slut, my friend?" Jubal
said.
       "She certainly is disgusting looking," the other man said.
"What a sacrifice you make to make use of her."
       "Yes, I almost vomit every time I am forced to bury my manhood
in her, but she craves it so, and if I hesitate she whines and begs."
       "You are a kind master." 
       "Am I not a kind master, Jew?"
       "Yes, master," Gabrielle said softly.
       "Do you think your Jew slut can make mine come?"
       "She's a very talented little whore," the other man said.
       "We shall see. If she fails we shall beat her severely."
       "And if she succeeds?"
       "Then we beat the other one, of course," Jubal said with a
broad laugh.
       The two women looked at each other doubtfully, and Gabrielle
felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Was there
noperversion too disgusting for Jubal to subject her to? She felt a
wave of despair swamp her as the other woman moved determinedly
forward.
      Gabrielle raised her arms instinctively to ward her off, then
choked as Jubal yanked hard on the collar around her throat, flinging
her back against the wall.
      "You dare oppose my wishes, Jew!?" he snarled.
      "No, master! Forgive me, master!" she whimpered, dropping to her
belly and grasping his ankle as she rained kisses on his feet.
      "Get on the sofa, you stinking Jew," he said dismissively.      
  Gabrielle turned and crawled quickly to the sofa, then climbed onto
it and lay down as the other woman moved towards her. Jubal unlocked
the chains from her ankles, spreading them wide, then lifted her
manacled wrists up above her head and locked them to the back of her
collar.
        Then he and the other Arab moved back a the girl climbed
between her legs and laid her own body down atop hers.
        Gabrielle looked up into her eyes, then closed her own as the
woman leaned into her. She felt her lips touch her own, then press
down with more intensity. She felt the other woman's bare breasts
rubbing down gently on her own naked orbs as the woman settled her
weight.
       "Do not resist, Jew! Or your punishment will be doubled!" Jubal
snarled.
        Gabrielle moaned and opened her eyes, miserably accepting the
other woman's kisses.
        It was a novel experience for more than one reason. Not only
had she never been kissed in this way by a woman, but it had been so
long...or seemed so long since anyone had kissed her so gently.
        The woman's hands moved very slowly and softly against her
aching flesh, caressing her in intimate ways that should have
mortified her, but no longer could.
        Surely nothing could humiliate her any more, she thought
sadly.         The woman's tongue dipped into her mouth, sliding
across her own, then up along the inside of her cheeks before pulling
back.
        Gabrielle felt a strange attraction to this. She had been
screamed at, snarled at, beaten and tortured for so long now that any
tenderness of any sort was a wonderful change. And she would have not
have been human had she not found herself revelling in that
tenderness, however short it lasted and wherever the source.
        The woman's fingers moved lightly across her flesh, stroking
her nipples before moving down along her bruised ribs with the
lightness of a feather. Her lips moved across Gabrielle's bruised
cheeks and under her ear, her small tongue darting out and gently
caressing her earlobe as her breasts moved back and forth against
Gabrielle's.
        Then her lips were back and Gabrielle was surprised at how
much she welcomed them, even kissing back hesitantly. It didn't seem
to matter that this was a woman. It seemed enough that someone did not
hate her, was not trying to hurt her, and was kissing her with a
tenderness she had all but forgotten.
        Their tongues moved lightly together as the woman eased a hand
up and stroked the underside of her breast. She groaned softly as she
felt the other woman slip her thumb and finger against her nipple and
rub them expertly.
        "My name is Sarah," the woman whispered. "I won't hurt you."  
      Strange and conflicting thoughts drifted through Gabrielle's
mind as Sarah eased her lips downwards along her throat and onto her
breast.
        It seemed strange for anyone to promise not to hurt her, and
that only added to the confusion she was feeling as the woman's lips
slipped around her nipple and sucked with infinite tenderness.
        She closed her eyes, sighing as her sensitive nipple
tightened, as Sarah's tongue stroked it teasingly. She felt one of the
woman's hands ease down her belly and between her legs, felt her
fingers stroke gently along her cleft.
        New hesitation came to her, but she slowly relaxed as the
woman continued to stroke slowly without entering her.
        "Look at those filthy sluts," she heard Jubal say, but the
words barely penetrated the fog rapidly growing around her mind.
        Gabrielle lay back wearily, sighing in pleasure at
thisdelightful tenderness, at this softness and gentleness, and the
pleasure they waked within her. She felt an unfamiliar stirring in her
loins and spread her legs, groaning softly as the woman's fingers at
least eased between her newly moist lips and moved up and down between
them.
         Sarah shifted her lips from one nipple to the other, then
eased downwards, her tongue trailing along the woman's belly and in
between her legs. Her hands gently massaged her inner thighs as she
pried her legs wide, then her tongue followed, circling Gabrielle's
cleft teasingly.
        Gabrielle felt herself grinding her body down into the sofa,
and groaned in understanding, in realization that she was deeply
aroused. She felt a new shame at that, a quivering uncertainty and
misery, yet the pleasure, any pleasure, was too precious to withdraw
from, so she embraced it hungrily.
        Sarah slipped her tongue in between her pussy lips and drove
it up into her body, and Gabrielle gasped and drove herself upwards,
closing her eyes and rolling her head back in delight. It felt so
good, and it had been so long since she had felt good.
        She felt the soft little tongue squirming in and out of her,
and lewdly ground her hips upwards, then it eased free and moved
higher, and she cried out softly as it moved lightly across her
clitoris.
       Jubal spoke of removing it, so she could never feel pleasure
again, and she felt a desperate wanting as the heat inside her grew
and the buzzing warmth of her clitoris send rippling waves of wanton
pleasure through her body. She trembled, panting for breath as Sarah
licked again, this time harder.        She felt the fingers slipping
inside her suddenly sopping wet entrance, felt them driving deep as
her tongue lapped more quickly across her hot little button. She
moaned and whined helplessly, glorying in the pleasure as she bucked
upwards in ever more violent motion.
        "Uhh!" she groaned, arching her back.
        Sarah licked even harder, and much faster, and Gabrielle's
legs jerked and spasmed as the orgasm tore into her. It was her first
orgasm - ever, for she'd strictly observed Jewish religious laws
against sex and masturbation.
        Her eyes rolled back a she humped up in mindless ecstasy,
glorying in the wondrous pleasure engulfing her body and mind. Her
right foot bounced on the floor while her left jammed against the back
of the sofa. Her back arched repeatedly as she humped up against Sarah
and her head shook from side to side.
        "Look at that filthy Jewess!" Jubal snarled.
        "Which one?"
        "Both of them! They are both shameless!"
        "Certainly true."
        Jubal moved forward, gripping Sarah by the hair and yanking
her back, flinging her back across the floor as he shoved his right
foot brutally hard against Gabrielle's left thigh, stepped on her
right foot where it rested on the floor, then thrust a thick cattle
prod deep into the groaning woman's sopping opening and jammed his
thumb down on the button.
        Gabrielle howled in a strange, warbling tone, her body
thrashing madly on the sofa as Jubal kept the electricity flowing.
Then she gave a final shudder and went still.
       He pulled back with a snarl, and whipped around, staring at
Sarah where she crouched on the floor.
       "Filthy Jew!" he snarled. "You'll be punished for this!"
       "But you said only the one who came would be punished," Paul
said mildly.
       Jubal stared at him, bug-eyed. "She obviously enjoyed it, the
filthy Jew slut!"
       "I think you are right. That is what these Jew girls do best,
fucking people."
       "The bitch should be raped to death! To death!!" he snarled.
       "An interesting thought. I wonder if it's possible to rape
someone to death?"
       "We shall find out!" Jubal snarled, glowering at Sarah.
        He stomped over to her and backhanded her, sending her flying
back onto the floor, then hurried after, grabbing her hair and roughly
throwing her over onto her belly. He gripped her by hair and crotch,
forcing her up onto all fours, then moved his robes aside, pulling out
an erection gained from watching the lewd, lesbian perversion on the
couch, and thrust it deep into her quivering body.
        Sarah gasped, looking up at Paul as he stood back watching.
She felt embarrassed in front of him, yet an undeniable sexual heat
was spreading through her body. She wanted to deny it, both because of
Paul and to deny this filthy Arab scum any idea he might cause her
pleasure, yet her body had already decided on its own and there seemed
nothing she could do to fight it.        So she gave herself to the
pleasure, groaning like the slut both men called her as the Arab pig's
cock rammed into her again and again. Her insides caught fire and her
mind was churned and boiled in the swirling waves of sensory pleasure
that enfolded her.
        She thrust herself back onto Jubal's lance as he cursed her
and savagely rode her, his hands clawing at her hips, tearing at her
hair, slapping at her breasts. The tight halter had made her sex so
intensely sensitive, her pouting lips wrapped around the Arab's
pounding meat with delight and sent waves of pleasure through her
body.
        Even as Sarah cried out in pain she felt the pleasure rising
like a hovering wall of water, like a tidal wave that grew greater and
more powerful as it rose. She felt the quivering tension in her body,
the pressure building up in her mind as she grunted and moaned and
whimpered under Jubal's violent rutting onslaught.
        Then the orgasm swept down about her, the tidal wave swamping
her mind and flinging it up and down like a cork bobbing in a flood
tide. She cried out in release even as Jubal yanked back on her hair,
screamed in pleasure even as he slapped furiously at her dangling,
swinging, jiggling breasts.
        And as Jubal emptied his seed into her she felt her spasming
pussy sucking it down lustily, drawing at his tube of flesh, greedily
demanding more.
        She barely kept from collapsing as Jubal pulled away, raining
curses on her. She knelt there shakily, eyes glazed, head hanging so
low her hair touched the floor.
        Then Paul/Achmed was behind her, his hardness against her. She
felt herself pierced anally, felt Paul slowly working his hardness
down into her rectum as she groaned and slumped to her elbows on the
floor.         "Filthy Jew whore!" he snarled, slapping at her behind.
His prong lurched deeper with each slap as the sharp pain distracted
her. Then he was buried inside her and rutting almost as hard as Jubal
had. His balls slapped against her wet, pouting pussy lips and she
whined in heated pleasure, straightening her arms, pushing herself up,
then flinging her head back as she threw her hips back onto his tool.
         Glory! It was glorious! She had never felt like such a whore!
And her mind revelled in it! To be used! To be ridden like a bitch
dog!
         She felt another orgasm rising then sweep around her. Her
head jerked up and down like a wild filly and she drove herself back
against Paul with terrible need, grunting and groaning and whining in
feverish heat, the orgasm rolling up and down like an out of control
roller coaster.
        But even as Paul was spending himself within her bowels Jubal
was making arrangements, angrily watching Sarah as she howled in
delight.        Shortly thereafter, though Paul expressed some doubts
about the wisdom of it, she was bent over a strange machine in one of
the private rooms of torment. It was a table of sorts, low to the
ground. It had two deep round cups lined with rubber suction cups, and
her breasts were forced down into them.
        A rounded metal bar was brought down across the small of her
back and locked into place even as her arms were pulled straight down
on either side of the table and locked into place by metal restraints.
         Likewise her legs were spread wide, metal restraints locking
about her ankles and thighs. Then a long, thick metal tube shaped much
like a male phallus was pulled out from under the table. It was on a
swing arm, and it swung out, then up, then around against her sex
before Jubal rammed it home.
        A second phallus came swinging up around the first, and Jubal
pushed that into her rectum, locking both swing arms in place.
       Then he threw a switch and the table began to hum with power.
Sarah felt the suction cups begin to move, felt them closing in around
her tender breasts. They moved in waves, kneading and squeezing her
soft orbs, even as the small metal plate at the centre of each cup
began to slowly rotate and give off tiny sparkles of electricity.
        The two large metal dildos inside her began to hum as well,
then the one in her pussy began to move, slowly easing back, then
pushing in, pumping in a slow steady stroke that increased as Jubal
turned a dial.
         The second one began to move then, moving in counterpoint to
the first, thrusting up into her rectum even as the other slid down
out of her belly.
        Then the men left, turning off the lights and closing the
door, leaving her alone and helpless with her metal lover.
         Edward sighed as Amanda tongued his nipple. He smiled
benignly and reached up to grope one of her round breasts.
        She kissed his throat then the side of his face before
bringing her mouth against his.
        He turned his face aside.
        "Not on the lips," he said impatiently.
        "I'm sorry, master," she said, kissing her way back down his
body.
        She licked at his balls and he brought his hands behind his
head, watching her, thinking of how wonderful money and power were,
how they could buy him anything, even the utter, abject surrender of
the sluttish, snobbish, oh so superior Amanda Graham!
        "Dance for me, slut," he ordered.
        "Yes, master," she said in her low, breathy voice.
        She moved off the bed and stood next to it, letting her body
slowly undulate in time to the music, grinding her pelvis as her head
rolled in slow, erotic circles and her hands moved over her body.
         He picked up the remote and changes stations, bringing a
faster one and setting a faster pace, watching her swing her hips and
thrust her pelvis out lewdly, watching her slide her tongue over her
lower lip and look seductively at him.
        "Enough. Into bed, dog."
        She crawled back into bed, embracing him, her lush breasts
flattening against his chest as he brought a hand around to cup and
fondle her round behind.
        She snuggled in against him, her softness delightful against
his skin. He pushed her down, however, down towards his crotch, and
she moved willingly, eagerly, or so it seemed, her lips trailing over
her belly and back to his cock, engulfing it and taking it deep, then
bobbing up and down as she caressed his testicles.
        Oddly, her surrender annoyed him, in a way, for it deprived
him of an excuse to further torture her. Not that he really needed an
excuse of course, and not that he couldn't make her life difficult in
other ways.
        He gripped the back of her head and rolled over, rolling her
with him so she was now under him. Holding her head he began to thrust
down into her mouth, feeling a mixture of fear and hope that she would
dare to bite him again.
        She didn't, even as he tilted her head and savagely forced his
entire erection down into her throat she did nothing but shudder and
tremble and push feebly at his belly.
        He held himself deep, grinding his crotch into her face as she
lay beneath him. When he did raise himself it was only to thrust back
again as he used her throat like it was her pussy, rutting wildly,
bouncing atop her face as her movements became more and more frantic,
then less so.        He spent himself inside her throat and rolled off
with a groan, and the white faced girl gulped in air in between
coughs.
        "You'd better learn to do that better," he said calmly. "I'll
expect you to deep throat me every day now, and if you
can't,well...we'll just have to take the whip to you again!"
        He reached down and entangled his fist in her long, silky
hair, then literally dragged her up the length of his body until she
lay on her back next to him. He idly twisted and pinched her nipples
as he admired her body, smugly content.


      Meghan and Victoria were kneeling on all fours, naked, on a
small pedestal. A number of men sat around watching or chatting idly
as she and Victoria slapped their behinds together and ground their
hips in lewd lesbian gratification.
        They had been shocked to discover each other. Meghan knew the
other woman only slightly, but had passed on what she knew about the
alleged slave ring to someone in Victoria's office, and Victoria had
then come to speak to her about the inactivity of Lord Andrew.
        Both of them now deeply regretted ever hearing of the white
slavery club. Both had now been 'guests' of it for almost two weeks.
Victoria had been captured earlier, but was delayed by her time with
Lisette.
        Her first day with Lisette was spent largely serving her
sexual needs. The next day she had been a sexual servant at a small
cocktail party the girl had thrown. Humiliated, she had been forced to
crawl among half a dozen beautifully dressed women, enduring their
scornful comments and contemptuous looks.
        Then, while the woman had sat, fanning themselves against the
heat, sipping fruit drinks, and giggling, Victoria had been placed on
all fours on the floor before them and taken by a large Asian man from
behind.
        The humiliation had been even more intense than anything she
had previously undergone, for these women were obviously intelligent,
sophisticated, well to do, and members of the ruling class - wherever
they were. To be so used by a man in front of them was horrifying. He
had rutted into her like a cheap whore as the women laughed and made
jokes about how much she must be enjoying it.
        When the first man was done a second had sodomized her, then a
third had made her perform oral sex on him. Afterwards she was ordered
to place herself across Lisette's lap, and then spanked.
        Another shock to her system, another indignity that could not
be born. The ignorant little bitcht ten years her junior had smacked
her hands down so hard that each had stung terribly, all while the
others had watched and giggled. And to her further humiliation she had
begun to cry, sobbing and begging her to stop as her backside had
burned in pain.
         She was allowed to perform oral sex on Lisette then, and then
must crawl to each of the other woman for a spanking before eating
them as well. By the end her pride was almost completely obliterated,
and she meekly licked Lisette's feet at the woman's command, then
crawled back to the little room where she'd lain the previous night.
        Now, two gigantic double-headed dildos were buried within her
rectum and vagina, the other halves inside Meghan's, and as they
slapped their behinds together and pulled them back the men watching
could see the twin tubes of rubber glistening before they were
engulfed once again.
        Meghan's left ankle was strapped to Victoria's right, and vice
versa, and her arms were pulled straight back down her body and her
wrists strapped to Victoria's wrists. Each girl had long hair,
Meghan's blonde, Victoria's brown, and it was wound and tied together,
forcing their heads back.
        Under the circumstances, the easiest, and least painful thing
to do would be to remain still. But neither woman did. They knew the
watchful overseers would respond with far more pain if they did not do
as they were told, and they had been told to continue to grind their
hips and slap their buttocks together around the thick dildos that had
been forced deep inside them.
       Not being 'special' girls, neither had been introduced to the
complex with a special rape. Instead they were routinely abused, both
physically and sexually, as the servitors and overseers 'trained' them
to please their new masters.
        Their days were long and hectic. They got very little sleep
and very little in the way of nourishment. Whenever they were alone
soft, persuasive voices told them how much they loved the masters and
how they must obey them and please them.
        They were put through their paces like dogs, whips slashing
instantly across their tender flesh at the slightest hesitation in
obeying an order. Their wrists were constantly bound behind their
backs wherever they went to reinforce their sense of helplessness.
        Much of their time was spent in 'class', where instructors
gave lessons on deep throating and fellatio, on anilingus, massage,
and every possible known sexual position, the pipes gave off a soft,
pleasant vibration which, after the first few days of shock, had most
women in a constant state of sexual arousal no matter what they did to
try and fight it.
        The classes which would have been the most boring were
actually the most exciting, but not in any sexually pleasant way.
        These were the classes in a slave girl's duty to her master.
The instructor would often toss questions out rapid fire to individual
girls and the girl must answer correctly and instantly to avoid a
painful discharge of electricity up into her pussy.
        Even most of the demonstration classes - where the girls were
not seated, had the same kind of electrical threat. For then there
were portable electric prods the girls wore up inside their sheaths,
strapped in tightly with a kind of thick, heavy leather G-string that
was locked in place. There was a powerful battery attached to the
G-string and if an instructor or overseer aimed his remote control her
way the prod would make a girl howl with agony.
        Meghan had discovered this her second day at the complex, when
she'd awakened in her cell after spending the entire previous day on
that platform to find a man spreading her legs and beginning to rape
her.
        Since her hands were restrained behind her back there was
nothing she could do but lie there helplessly as he thrust himself
into her with violent, brutal motions, then came in her belly.
        Immediately afterwards the metal prod was thrust into her,
small wires sticking out of the end and attached to the T-shaped
leather belt thing. The belt was buckled around her waist, then the
lower portion brought down between her thighs and up behind her to
snap in place at the back of the belt.        She was led to her first
class, where she'd found a half dozen other newly arrived slave girls
all similarly clad. As soon as her wrists were unlocked so that she
could demonstrate her understanding of how to jerk off a penis she had
punched the instructor and ran for the door.
        She never got there. A horrific pain had blasted into her and
collapsed her before the door clawing at her groin.
        The pain had continued, and she'd thought she'd lose her mind
as she shrieked in agony, rolling over and over again on the floor as
she slapped and pulled and grabbed at her crotch, trying to tear the
leather away so she could relieve the agony that was tearing away at
her vitals.
         That had taught her, yet the stubbornness that had irritated
many a teacher in his day, as well as her superiors on the police, had
got her into trouble again as she had refused to tongue one of the
overseer's anus during a class on that subject.
        As a demonstration to the other girls she had been taken to a
corner stand none had paid much attention to, and strapped into it.
        The stand was a tall metal bar with wide legs and a metal
collar on top.
        There was also a sharp six inch long spike protruding out of
the bar a foot or so below the collar.
        With her throat locked into the metal collar she had to thrust
her chest out violently to keep from being stabbed by the spike. Of
course her wrists were bound to the sides of her collar. Then her feet
were lifted and placed into metal restraints which forced them
backwards and prevented her from supporting her weight.
        All her weight came down on her wrists as the overseer had
proceeded, to her shocked horror, to whip her breasts with a riding
crop.
        Whenever she even thought about that Meghan's hands tried
instinctively to cup her breasts, which, even after several days still
ached and showed the welts of that beating. She had hardly been able
to talk for the next two days because of her shrieking during the
whipping.
          Yet even so her spirit had not been broken. She had learned
a dreadful lesson about just how evil these men were, about just what
kind of horrible punishments any disobedience would draw, but inside
her head her mind still spun and whirred as she sought a way out, some
form of escape that offered a chance.
        She was raped regularly, at least a dozen times each day, but
after the first day that had become something less than shocking, even
at times, boring.
        The sodomy was less so, mostly because it was more painful.
And walking around more or less nude, being groped and fondled and
leered at by strange men was also something she had grown used to and
no longer really bothered her.
        Amazing, she thought, what one can accustom oneself to.
        Dancing classes, acting classes, begging classes, of all
things, classes in how to feed their masters, in how to use their
breasts - all of them seemed to be quite buxom - to massage their
masters feet, classes in how to use ones entire body, coated in soap,
to clean the master as he lay beneath.        And then there were the
nights, and those voices. Meghan knew what they were doing, knew they
were trying to brainwash the girls. The techniques were classic and
she'd read about them in psychology class before joining the police
department.
        And the worst of these, she thought, the one which really
showed the depths of depravity of the men here, was the pain and
resurrection, a particularly agonizing class each girl was subjected
to.
        It was a class that, even after only a few days, she could see
some of the girls responding to.
        Small wonder, for the class was simple in its tone, though
varying in application. Vibrators, fingers and mouths were used to
rouse the girls into a state of sexual excitement just short of
orgasm, then small pains were applied, small at first.
        She had not understood the first day, nor even the second, but
now she did, and even her own body was beginning to respond to it.
         Each of the girls was pared off, then, using lips, tongues,
fingers and vibrators, one of the girls worked the other up into a
state of high sexual arousal. This was aided by the lack of
nourishment they had all received, which kept them all a bit light-
headed, their minds not working as well as they otherwise might.
        Then pain was applied. Small pins were lightly stabbed into
the receiving girl's pubic lips, or thighs or buttocks, depending on
how close she was to climax. As the pain lowered her excitement more
pleasure would be applied, then stabbing pains again.
        This was repeated over and over again, with the pins being
stuck in harder and deeper to fight off more powerful arousal.
Eventually, of course, even sticking the pin into a girl's clitoris
could not deter the orgasm, and she would climax with the pain and
pleasure mixed interchangeably.        Ultimately, Meghan knew, the
objective was to produce girls who would probably climax even as they
were being brutally whipped or tortured, perhaps even with nothing
other than the pain to lead their minds into a spiral of sexual
oblivion.
        Yet even knowing this she had come powerfully that morning,
the pleasure unbearable as the girl working on her had stuck a pin
directly into her swollen clitoris.
        It was hard to think, so very hard. For her mind kept drifting
away. She desperately needed to sleep, and to eat something
nourishing, not the sugar filled junk the girls were being fed.
       Of course, that was the idea behind the diet, and the lack of
sleep. None of the girls were thinking straight.
        Even as she thought this she recognized the signs of arousal
inside her body, gave a half-hearted attempt to fight them down, then
gave in, her determination fading from her exhaustion and lack of
nourishment.
        Each time her tight pussy rode down the dildos and her
buttocks slapped solidly into Victoria's her mind felt a swirl of heat
and pleasure. Pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain. They were becoming
one within her frazzled mind no matter how hard she tried to keep them
apart...
        She tried to hold back, but then Victoria climaxed, gurgling
in helpless pleasure, her bound tongue preventing her from making any
other sort of sound. The raven haired beauty slapped her buttocks back
even harder, yanking forward again to tear at her own clit as well as
Meghan's.        Meghan gurgled herself, tears filling her eyes as her
tongue pulled against the clip holding it. Her belly filled with
liquid heat and her mind disintegrated as a howling storm of sexual
bliss engulfed her.
        The two young women shuddered and trembled in the throes of
their ecstasy, odd animal noises coming from their mouths as their
eyes rolled back dazedly.
        Meghan sagged, then straightened weakly. There was still four
more hours to go before she and Victoria would be freed from their
present task. Then they would be cleaned, fed, watered, and given more
classes.        She groaned weakly.


        Paul looked at the girl and smiled, turning and nodding to his
host, Hasaan.
       "But you can't see her pretty face," he said with a smile.
       "Better for you. She's such an ugly Jew girl," Hasaan said.
       They were standing before what he had been told was Miri
Gathwenz, one of the missing girls he was looking for. It was quite
difficult to tell, however.
        The female before them, for female it undeniably was, was
encased in thick, gleaming leather from head to toe. The face of the
leather hood encasing her head had no features, being a smooth,
slightly rounded surface. There was a zipper where a mouth might be,
and two small holes where nostrils would be located.
        Her arms were pulled behind her back, the leather sleeves
which surrounded each limb also masking her hands, with no fingers or
thumbs to allow her any manipulation at all. Even if there were her
wrists were tightly strapped together. As were her forearms and
biceps.
        Her legs and feet were likewise tightly encased in gleaming
leather, her ankles pulled back and strapped to her thighs. Her legs
were split wide, each tightly bound limb at a wide angle from her
hips.
         She wore a tight leather corset, much like the one he'd seen
Sarah wearing earlier, and which compressed her waist to minute size.
         She was hanging from the ceiling in a horizontal position,
her large breasts, naked, dangling beneath her body. Chains were
locked to the top of her leather hood, holding her head up and back,
to the straps about her arms, the back of her corset, and to her heels
and thighs.
         "How long do you keep her like this?" he asked.
         "Oh, a few hours, then we find another position. But the hood
remains in place. Two months we have had the slut now, and she has
neither seen nor heard anything during all that time."
        "She is deaf in there?"
        "Yes, heavy padding over the ears."
        "But you can't tell her what a filthy little Jewess she is."  
      "I let her know in other ways," he said with a smile.
         He took the cigar from his lips and ground it on at the small
of the girl's back, then burst into laughter. Paul quickly followed
suit.
        "I don't know, though," he said. "I'm thinking of having mine
put in with the general population for the training they get. It seems
most effective."
        "True. The females here learn their place. But I don't want
this Jew slut bitch to get pleasure from my punishments. I will break
her my own way."
        "How will you know when she is broken?"
        Hasaan shrugged. "Maybe one day I'll take off the hood and
ask," he said, then laughed uproariously again.
        He motioned Paul around to the girl's rear and gestured to her
bared sex.
        "Go ahead. Have some," he said with a smile. "Be my guest."   
     Paul grinned at him, surprised that he actually was finding
himself aroused despite his anger at the man and his indignation at
what had been done to the Israeli soldier.
        He had found a lot of his beliefs changing over the last week
or so, and was undeniably attracted to the life of a male totally in
control of beautiful, willing females.
        Willing? There was no such word here. They were all his to do
with as he chose. They never talked back, never argued, never denied
anything, were all gorgeous and big busted, and he could do literally
anything he wanted to them without anyone caring.
        He raised his hand and cupped the girl's sex, stroking his
finger along her pink cleft. The girl was someone's daughter, he told
himself. She is an abused prisoner. She deserved his sympathy. And
indeed, she had it.
        But he still felt himself becoming aroused as he slipped his
finger inside her and wriggled it in deep.
        "She's tight yet," Hasaan said. "But we'll loosen her up. I
aim to impregnate her eventually and have the sow's bitch raised in
the slave pens."
        Paul ran his hands over her beautiful round behind, feeling
the softness of her warm flesh, feeling her body swinging freely on
the end of the chains as he kneaded her flesh.
        What difference did it make, he asked himself? She'd already
been raped by legions, and she would never know anyway.
        He undid his trousers and pulled his erection free, feeling
ashamed, yet aroused beyond measure. The girl made no sound as he
entered her, nor as he began to thrust into her. His movements set her
body swinging. It must have hurt, but again, the gag stuffed into her
mouth kept her quiet as he used her.
        When he was done he slapped her on the behind with a laugh,
then he and Hasaan left in comradely fashion, to talk about mutual
business interests.
        Later in his suite he sat back in his king sized bed pondering
his problem. He had now found two of the girls, but both were in
difficult to reach areas. If they were part of the general population
things would be much easier. But as long as they were in the hands of
their fanatical owners they were likely to be killed at the first sign
of an assault on the island.
        That, of course, was also a problem. He'd been astonished at
how well-guarded the island camp was. First off the dictator the
Viceroy had bought off had surrounded the island with mines. He also
had patrol boats circling it to prevent anyone coming near. He had
patrols along the perimeters armed with heavy weapons, and a large
response group on the island next door ready to rush over at the first
sign of trouble.
         The Viceroy's own security was even better. The guards were
first rate, and all ex-soldiers from elite forces in the west. They'd
been lured to the island with high pay rates and the promise of free
women ready for their comfort every night.
        An all out assault would be extremely difficult and expensive
to mount, and would cost a lot of casualties, including among the
girls. And yet a small scale attack would have to sneak past all the
guards and the hightech sensor systems then escape without being
destroyed.
         He looked up and grinned as Sarah came into the room. She was
wearing the traditional slave outfit of leather G-string and stiletto
heels, as well as leather restraints on wrists ankles and throat. Her
wrists were clipped together behind her back, which was also normal.
When slave girls weren't needed for some task their wrists were always
restrained.
        "I see you've been released from your kitchen tasks," he said.
        "Yes," she said with a pouty look. "I don't know why you had
to offer me to the kitchen anyway. As a private slave I..."
       "I needed you to go out there and get information," he said
with a frown. "You aren't any good to me if you're at my heels all the
time, nor if you're stuck here in my suite watching TV."
        "I suppose," she sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed.
         "I could, of course, put you back into that machine Jubal
locked you to the other day."
        She shuddered and her eyes closed briefly.
        "You have no idea!" she said, her voice soft and quivering. "I
thought I was going to die."
        "Well, Jubal did say you could be fucked to death."
        "It was, the orgasms were so intense and they drain your
energy until, well, until you can hardly breath."
        "Of course, that wouldn't work on all women," he said with a
smirk, reaching up and pulling her back against him.
        "Stop that," she said with little force in her voice. "And you
can release my wrists now that we're alone."
        "What do you need wrists for?" he murmured, his fingers
sliding through her hair, then moving down onto her breast, cupping
andsqueezing it softly.
        "Paaaulll," she moaned.
        "Come here, slave slut," he growled, dragging her further into
the bed, then rolling her onto her back.
        "This... we're supposed to be on... on a mission," she gasped
as his lips sought her nipples.
        "Shut up or I'll spank you," he growled, bringing his teeth
down around her nipple and chewing lightly.
        "Paaaulll," she gasped, wriggling beneath him.
         "Hot little slut," he panted, his hands digging into her soft
breasts. "Did that machine squeeze your breasts as well as I do. Was
it better than my lips?"
        He sucked her nipple into his mouth and chewed on it as his
fingers dug deep furrows in the round mammaries, kneading and
massaging them.
        "Bastard!" she groaned.
        He forced her legs up and apart, running his hands down her
taut belly and along her inner thighs. His thumbs pried her soft lips
apart and he gazed down at her revealed hole and the pink flesh around
it.
         "How many men have fucked you today?" he growled. "How many
men have emptied their cocks into your whore belly?"
        "Many!" she groaned. "Oooohhhhh! Don't!"
         He pinched her pussy lips, pulling them wider and wider as he
felt his cock stiffening. This was an assignment he would not have
believed, he thought, his mind filling with carnal lust. An assignment
where he got to fuck the brains out of his sluttish partner, and it
didn't matter if she liked it or not.
        "Filthy little whore," he shouted.
        He pulled his manhood free of his pants, stroking the swollen
head up and down against Sarah's soft moist pussy opening. Then he
centred it and thrust in, drawing a gasp, then another gasp as he
buried himself within her.
        His hands mashed her breasts together as he ground himself
into her, twisting his cock around in her snug belly.
        "Maybe I'll leave you here when I'm done," he growled. "Leave
you here to be a slut slave for the rest of your life."
        She moaned and writhed, her head back as she gasped and rolled
her eyes.
        "I bet you'd love it," he said. "You don't even need any
training. You were a slut before you even got here."
        He began to pump into her, his hands roaming her nubile body
as he grinned down at her glazed eyes. The thought occurred to him
that he could actually have her run through the basic training program
here, and that he could justify it quite easily if he had to. If she
was this much of a playtoy now what would she be like after the
brainwashing they gave the girls here?
        After all, this assignment wouldn't last forever, and he was
going to miss having his own little slut slaves to use as he saw fit.
In fact, the idea of returning to the life of a single man, of having
to seduce women, wine and romance them in order to convince them to
spread their legs, was now beginning to seem more and more repugnant.
        He drove himself into her with harder thrusts, feeling his
power over her, feeling the excitement of being in total possession of
his beautiful partner. Each time he thrust himself into her he felt
her pussy flesh giving way before his powerful cock, and each time he
pulled himself back her pussy squeezed and sucked on his sensitive
flesh as if reluctant to see it go.        He ran his hands up and
down her legs, pulling them over his shoulders as he leaned further
forward, tilting her pussy up towards him as he continued to thrust
into her. Sarah's eyes were tight slits as she whimpered and moaned in
pleasure, and he felt a wonder he'd hardly even known her back when
they'd worked out of the same building.
        He reached back for her ankles, then gripped each tightly and
forced her legs back, putting all his weight behind his arms as he
slowly jammed her ankles back over her shoulders and behind her head.
He rose and fell heavily atop her, his hips slamming her buttocks down
into the mattress with each stroke, and the springs throwing her pussy
back up at him to meet the next.
        She shuddered as she came, her pussy spasming wildly, yet he
held himself back, continuing to pound down into her. Another orgasm
ripped through her, then a third before he finally spilled his seed
within her fiery wet belly.
        Only then did he ease up on his strokes, moving slower and
slower, then pulling back with a groan, relaxing his hold on her
ankles and letting her unbend.
        She groaned as her legs flopped down alongside him.
        "God! You - you nearly broke my back," she gasped.
        "Your back was made for this," he said, giving her pussy a
final squeeze before rolling away and laying on his back next to her.
        "What did you tell Gabrielle?" he asked after a moment to
catch his breath.
        "Who?"
        "Stupid little cow," he said affectionately. "Gabrielle, the
girl, remember?"
        "Oh. I didn't tell her anything."
        He frowned and sat up. "What?"
        "I couldn't," she said defensively. "I mean, we didn't have
much time and, well, Jubal was right there."
        "You had enough time to whisper something to her," he snapped.
"You had your tongue stuck in her ear for several minutes."
         "She wasn't in any shape to understand a message. I mean,
well, she might have given us away."
        "You mean she might have given you away!"
        "I didn't think it was safe."
        "Who's in charge of this mission?" he demanded.
        "You are," she said in a surly tone.
        "I gave you an order and you disobeyed it."
        "It was a stupid order!"
        "Stupid!?"
         He sat up abruptly, reaching down and grabbing her by the
hair. She cried out in pain as he forced her head back, then forced
her up off the bed.
        "Stop it! What are you doing! Idiot! Let me go!"         "You
forget your place!"
        "You forget yours, bastard! You think you are my master!?"
         "Maybe I'm not in real life, slut, but here I AM your
master!"         He forced her over to the corner, where a series of
metal rings with small chains attached ran up the length of the wall.
He bent her over sharply, then attached one of the lower chains to a
ring on her collar, and lifted the long thin cane off a hook set on
the wall nearby.
         "What are you doing?! Stop it! You can't do this to me!"
         The cane slashed down across her upturned buttocks with a
satisfying crack! of noise and she squealed in pain.
        "You'll learn your place, girl," he snapped. "I am in charge
of this mission and what I say is what you do!"
        Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!
        The cane cut across her soft round flesh as she squealed and
whined and cried out in pain, dancing wildly from foot to foot as she
tried to twist out of the way. But the collar held her tightly, her
face against the wall as he continued to cane her lusciously displayed
behind.


        Amanda smiled down at Sir Edward as she went slowly up and
down on his stiff erection. His hands gripped her breasts tightly, his
fingers working into the flesh with bruising force that almost made
her wince. She continued to smile, however, pretending she loved it,
gasping softly as if in pleasure as she rode him.
        "Ooooooh," she groaned.
        "You love that, don't you, whore?" he sneered.
         "Oh yes, master! Oh, Master! You're so good to me, master!
oooohhhhh! Ungghghhh!"
        She let her head ease back and rolled it slowly from side to
side, squeaking softly each time she slapped her round buttocks down
against his hips.
        He reached up and slipped his hand behind her head, then
yanked her down, rolling atop her. In an instant he had her legs
jammed back against her chest as he pounded his meaty tool down into
her belly, grunting with effort as she continued to moan in pleasure.
        She cried out, her eyes going wide, then narrowing to slits as
she shook violently. She bucked up against him, her pussy squeezing
down hard and fast as she pretended orgasm.
        Edward growled in delight, hammering himself against her,
drilling his stiff manhood down into her tight depths with all his
strength as her spasming pussy sucked the juices directly from his
balls, swallowing every powerful spurt of juice.
        He groaned as he instantly softened, then rolled off her and
lay on his back, chest heaving.
        She sighed as if in pleasure, then rolled atop him, pressing
her soft round breasts against his chest as she flung an arm over him
and buried her face in his shoulder.
        "You're so good to me, master," she moaned again.
        "Better than you deserve, slut."
        "Want me to do you again, master? I can make you hard again if
you want." Her hand slid down to cup his balls and flaccid penis.
        "Go ahead and try," he said lazily.
        He lay back as she slid her pert young lips down his body and
began to lick and suckle at his balls and thighs. She was extremely
talented, he admitted, and soon she was bobbing her lips up and down
on his rising tool, taking it clear down her throat each time.
        He was thick, and her jaws were spread wide as her lips rode
up and down the full length of his organ. But she was obviously happy,
and quite enthusiastic. He was very pleased at how well he had trained
her.         The plebeians who ran the club liked to have every
girleventually run through their program, but he saw no need of it.
She was as obedient as a well-trained dog, and adored him like a
cocker spaniel.
        He groaned as he gripped the back of her head, yanking her
down fully as he spit wad after wad down her sweet throat.
        He relaxed his grip then, his hand dropping back to the bed as
she drained the last of his juices then licked his organ clean.
        When she was done she crawled up alongside him and lay there
with an adoring look on her face. He yawned tiredly, glanced at his
watch, then reached over and turned off the light.
        Amanda's features underwent a profound change as the lights
dimmed, and she glared at Sir Edward in hate. One day, she vowed, she
would kill the insufferable pig. She felt like vomiting every time he
touched her.
        But she was rapidly gaining some control over things. Tonight
she'd done such a good job she'd worn him out. And he hadn't wanted to
make the effort to put her in her cage like he usually did.
        She could kill him tonight, she thought as she stared at his
shadowed form. She could take a knife or something and plunge it into
him when he slept.
        Not that that would do her any good. It would certainly not
free her of this place, and who knew what kind of horrible punishment
they would mete out for that.
        She had little in the way of plans at the moment, beyond
convincing Sir Edward, the gullible fool, that she was totally broken
and utterly devoted to him. She didn't think even he  could be stupid
enough to take her back to his residence in England, but there was
always a chance, and meanwhile playing the part of the happy slut kept
her away form punishments and gave her a slim measure of freedom.
         She had already got from him that they were on an island in
the South Pacific, and that it was heavily guarded by soldiers. Every
day she heard helicopters landing and taking off from the heliport, so
that seemed like the most logical way of escaping.
        But how?
        In the last day she'd been able to speak to a few of the other
prisoners, and found them frighteningly insensible, their minds filled
with girlish thoughts of make-up and pretty lingerie and making this
or that master happy.
        None seemed to harbour any resentment towards the men who had
imprisoned and abused them. They seemed devoted to their pleasure.    
    Amanda shuddered at the blankness in their eyes, and wondered if
she would someday become like them. She knew there was a regular
program they ran most new girls through. She had avoided it because
she was a 'special' prisoner, brought here at Sir Edward's orders and
for his use.
          But if they put her through that program... she didn't like
to think about what would emerge on the other side. She had already
been through so much, she didn't know if she could go through more and
still emerge with any strength of will.
        When she was sure he was asleep she crept out of bed and out
of the aptly named master bedroom. She went into the main bathe and
closed the door, then stared at herself in the mirror, wondering at
the things she'd been through in such a short time.
        Most of the whip marks had faded from her body now, and she
still looked like the same girl she'd always been. She'd lost weight,
of course. Unfortunately, it that had only served to accentuate her
high cheekbones and full breasts. She seemed, at least by his reaction
and the reaction of other men, to be more desirable now than she'd
been before.
        She plastered a stupid smile on her face, then grimaced. What
kind of men were these that only wanted a brainless fuck bunny for
their tools? She thought of the long conversations she'd had with
Neil, and how much he appreciated her keen wit, and wondered that
these evil, cruel men were of the same species.
        She sighed and left the bathroom, going to the kitchen for a
snack. Then she settled in at the edge of the bed, as far from him as
she could get.
         Morning came, and she woke the instant he started moving. She
crawled between his legs and took him into her mouth, sucking softly
as his tool inflated. It didn't last long, and she swallowed his semen
before sliding her body up alongside his so he could fondle her
breasts.          After a minute she slipped out of bed and ordered
his morning juice, then ran his bath. After washing him she dried him
and brushed out his hair, noting as she did that he was going
prematurely bald.
         She helped him dress, giggling as she pulled on his shoes,
tied the laces, then kissed his foot.
        She had a cold shiver as she did, though, wondering whether
she was worse off or better than the other similar fuck slaves. For
they performed the same tasks yet without realizing they were
degrading, performed them happily and took pleasure in it.
        Sir Edward clipped her metal bracelets together behind her
back, then started for the door with her following.
        Almost all the other slaves wore something, if only a
G-string. But Sir Edward kept her totally nude at all times, ready, he
said, to be used as she ought.
        She followed him down to the elevators, then downstairs and
through the corridors to the main dining lounge. There women in tight
leather outfits scurried about seeing to the needs of the masters who
arrived for breakfast.
        She studied the girls as they moved around, noting how eager
to please they seemed. Were any of them putting on an act like her, or
were they all that broken?
        One of the men approached their table, trailed by a bright
eyed, short haired brunette. The brunette knelt at his feet as the man
greeted Edward, then sat down. The two men chatted, and she gazed at
the brunette, looking for some spark of intelligence in the wide,
adoring eyes.
        Then she jerked her eyes around as something the man said
caught her attention.
        "...haven't sent her through the training program either," he
was saying. "But I'm thinking of doing it."
       "Well, er, I uhm, find that Amanda here gives fine service
without their so-called training. And I'd hate to wake up alone in the
morning, if you know what I mean."
        "Yes, I do," the man said with a smile. "Still, though we
train our dogs we can never do quite as good a job as a professional.
Perhaps I'll put this slut through it and let you know if it changes
her for the better."
        "Yes. Quite. Do," Edward said, nodding his head.        
Amanda looked at the girl, and for a moment she thought she saw her
give her master a look of reproach and suspicion, then it was gone,
replaced by that mindless happiness she saw on so many of the other
women.
        "I'll see you on the golf course later, my friend," the man
said.
        "Yes, er, of course, Achmed. After breakfast," Edward said.   
     Achmed left, the girl following him closely, and Amanda turned
her gaze back to Edward, smiling happily.
        "What did you mean by that?" Sarah whispered.
        "Hmm, oh, well, I heard that our third girl was placed into
the training program. The only way to get near her is to go into
ityourself."
        "Do you know what the program involved?"
        "Nothing too serious, my dear. After all, it's designed to
teach the new girls how to act, how to please their masters, uhm, how
to be obedient little fuck bunnies, basically. You should have no
problem with that. I mean, you're already obedient, or at least,
acting that way, and you certainly don't need anyone to teach you how
to please your man."
         He grinned and patted her behind. She winced and gave him a
glare.
        "How will I contact you if they segregate me with those other
girls?"
        "Well, you are still my special slave girl. I can visit you
any time I want. I can even have you back at my suite each evening,
though come to think of it I don't think the girls get a lot of rest."
        "I don't know," she said doubtfully.
        "You don't have to know. I'm in charge, or have you forgotten
so soon?"
        "You just wait until we get back!"
        "Silence," he snapped. "Maybe you do need the training
program. You keep forgetting your place in public and you'll be one
dead slut!"
         He walked down a flight of stairs to the basement and there
met with one of the overseers in charge of training.
        "Ah, I'm glad you brought her down, Your Highness. We like to
make sure each girl is fully trained, even the private slaves."
        "Yes, so I understand. Although I have little doubt she is
already in fairly good shape."
        They both turned to look at her and she smiled stupidly.
        "We'll test her inside, Your Highness, and if she's as far
along as you think she won't require much more training. We can put
her in advanced mode with the girls who have already been in the
program for a while."
        "Excellent. She gives good service and I had to be without he
for long."
        He gave Sarah a pat on the behind, squeezed her, then said
goodbye and went back upstairs, leaving her with the overseer.
        "Well, slut. How do you like living on the island?" the man
asked.
        "It's very nice, master," she said. "I don't have to work and
I don't have to worry about anything, and I get lots of... I mean, I
get to please my master a lot."
        "You mean you get lots of cock, you little slut," he said,
chuckling.
        "Yes, master," she said, bowing her head.
        "That's all right, slut girl. We like our slave sluts to want
lots of cock. In fact, we make sure they do."
        He called someone on the phone and another pair of overseers
came to get her. They led her down another flight of stairs and into a
small room. There were a number of frightening looking devices
scattered around the room, and the walls were lined with whips, crops
and canes.
         Her wrist restraints were undone and she was given a series
of orders that reminded her of dog training. She had to assume various
positions, and do it quickly, on all fours, for instance, on her knees
with her head back, on her belly with her legs spread or on her back
with her knees up and apart.        She crawled across the floor and
grovelled for them, licking at their feet and ankles, then held her
position, bent over, as they caned her behind.        That was hard,
for she'd never actually had to take punishment before without moving.
She'd always been forcibly bound somehow.
         After that she took a cock down her throat, bobbing her lips
up and down its length, then was ridden on all fours, squealing with a
pleasure that was only partly feigned.
        They decided that she was well-trained, but did not respond
fast enough, had not had obedience drummed into her hard enough.
        She was placed into one of the classes on obedience. There
were five other women in the class. The overseer interrupted the class
to bring her in, and she was led to a small low chair and ordered to
sit down.
        A metal dildo of sorts stuck up from it, and she knew without
asking that she was meant to impale herself on it. Bracing herself,
she slowly eased down all the way, gasping as it drove deep into her
belly. Then her ankles were chained to the sides and she sat there
listening to the class.        It sounded ridiculous to her, but she
did her best to fake interest as the teacher called out various
questions and the women answered them. She noted they answered very
quickly. Then one got an answer wrong and cried out in pain. Sarah
stared at her, worried.
       "You, slut!"
       "Me, master?"
       "What was your name?" 
       "Sarah, master."
       "Sarah, what is a slave's first duty?"
        "To obey her master," she guessed.
        Then her insides exploded in pain and she screamed, jerking
violently on the chair as she yanked her pussy off the metal probe.
        "Sit down!" he snarled icily.
        "I... I'm sorry, master," she gulped. "I didn't know we... I
mean, that the..."
        "Sit!"
        She eased down onto the thing again, and when she was firmly
down she felt the pain burn into her again. Again she screamed, her
fingers digging into the palms of her hands as she squirmed and
sobbed, her insides bathed in acid.
        But by a supreme effort of will she kept from jerking upwards,
knowing it would only lead to more pain.
        The pain eased, then went away, and she gasped, going limp.
         "Good," he said. "The sparkler is there to help your memory
along, but there are far better memory aids if you choose to reject
it. We are being tolerant in here, Sarah."
        "Thank you, master," she gasped.
        "You had better learn the slave's duties quickly. Otherwise
we'll start you at the beginning of the program with the next new
batch of sluts that arrive."
        "Now, Meghan, what is a slave's first duty?"
        "To please her master," a lovely blonde girl said quickly.
        "Correct. Tammy, what rights has a slave?"
        "A slave is not a human being and has no rights!" a black girl
exclaimed.
        "Correct. Darla, why must a slave angle her throat up when
taking a master's cock?"
        "So that the underside of the head will rub along the side of
her throat wall," a redhead replied quickly.
        "Meghan, what is a slave's first duty?"
        "To please her master!"
        "Yes. When can a slave disobey?"
        "A slave can never disobey!"
        "Correct."
        The questions went on and on, and Meghan was shocked several
more times, even though the teacher didn't ask her many.
        They went on to their next class, and the girls were all
paired off together on low couches. She was paired with the blonde
girl named Meghan, a lovely young, bright-eyed girl who smiled happily
at her.
         She lay back, leaving it up to Meghan to know what was to be
done, and saw the girl lean in between her legs, holding a vibrator
and a dildo.        This, she thought, could be interesting.
        And it was, the girl proved to be quite adept with her tongue
and fingers, not using the sex toys immediately. Soon Sarah was
grinding her pelvis up into the girl's face and groaning in pleasure.
Several time she instinctively tried to grab at her head to jam her
face down, only to be reminded that her wrists were tightly bound
behind her back.
         She was near an orgasm when she felt a sharp pain in her
pussy, and gasped, jerking her eyes open. Another pain made her yelp
and raise her head to see the blonde holding a little pin in her hand,
the end of the pin stuck into Sarah's labia.
        She opened her mouth to speak, to protest, but caught herself
in time. She heard another girl yelp, and looked over to see the
redhead pulling a pin out of the black girl's pussy.
        She laid her head back as Meghan began to lick at her pussy
again, her tongue soft and wet and deliciously pleasant. Soon she was
grinding her hips up again, and sure enough she got another pin stuck
into her, then again, then again.
        She wasn't sure what the lesson was here, unless it was that
they didn't want the girls to climax, that they wanted them to learn
to hold themselves back as long as possible.
        She tried, but kept relaxing, and when Meghan turned to the
vibrator she was soon yelping away every other minute. Soon the pain
wasn't enough to stop her climax and she exploded, bucking wildly up
and down on the sofa as pleasure screamed along her nerve endings.
        The blonde girl, Meghan, delivered a series of open-handed
slaps to her bare little mound as she came, cracking her hand down in
hard, rapid spanks even as the climax was rippling through her body.
        She came to hate the girl. And then it was her turn.  
        
        She was not able to go back to see Paul that night. They
worked her right up until eleven o'clock. Then she and the other girls
were leashed, and forced to crawl on all fours after individual
servitors.
         She was led into a bathroom of sorts, and ordered into the
bathtub. There she knelt on all fours like a dog while the man roughly
and thoroughly cleaned her from head to toe.
        She was led into another room and strapped to an X-shaped
wooden frame. Then a man carefully pierced her nose, nipples and
clitoris, ignoring her gasps and squeals of pain as he ran  the needle
through them. He slipped small golden rings into each, then released
her.
         She crawled along behind the servitor to the kennel, where
she was allowed to drink water from a bowl and eat a pasty kind of
substance from a plate on the floor.
        There was a metal post in the middle of the floor, with a
penis-shaped metal pipe sticking out from the bottom and angling
upwards. Likewise there was a large clamp sticking out from near the
top of the post.
        She was forced to squat with her belly against the post, then
sink her pussy down onto the penis. The ring in her clitoris was then
snapped to a small chain attached to the post just above the penis
thing. She was made to sit down  fully, then wrap her legs around the
post, where they were quickly shackled.
        Her arms were also wrapped around the post, chains attached to
her wrists to pull them around towards her opposite side. A small
chain was slipped around the post and attached to both nipple rings,
holding them tight, pulling her nipples out painfully.
        Then the clamp went around her throat, locking it firmly in
position even as her nose ring was chained to the post.
        "Sleep," she was ordered.
        The lights were turned out on her and the other girls, and she
thought bleakly of how she was going to get Paul back for this.
        She heard a soft whispering sound, and realized it was coming
from a speaker set nearby. The words... she could make out some of the
words, but not all. They were spoken in a hypnotic voice, and she kept
trying to understand but failing.
        To make matters worse the metal thing inside her started to
hum, and it wasn't too long before she heard soft whimpers and moans
coming from the girl next to her, the blonde, she thought.
        The post had been cold against her soft flesh, but it quickly
warmed, and as she listened to the blonde's soft passion filled voice
and the humming metal pipe buzzed against her soft inner flesh she
found her own passions rising.
        Her breasts were crushed around the post, her arms squeezing
them against the now warm metal, and she found herself unconsciously
squeezing her thighs against it as well, squeezing in a rhythmic
fashion as her breathing grew more ragged.
        "God! Oh God!" she heard the blonde gasp "Oooohhhhh!"        
Then another sound, another voice, the black girl on her other side,
panting for breath, then gurgling in ecstasy.
        Sarah fought to suppress moans herself, and tentatively pulled
her pussy a little ways up the curved metal cock.
        It was very hard to move much because of her position, so her
frustration grew even as the sex-heat filled her mind and body.
        "Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!" she heard from further away. 
        "Fuck!" she gasped aloud.
        She rocked slowly, using the pressure of her arms around the
post to pull her a little ways up the metal penis. Even as she did she
gasped in pain for the chain locked to her clit ring tugged on it in a
way that sent sharp little stinging pains into her body.
        But her mind was growing inflamed now, and a little pain was
not going to stand in her way. She could feel her juices dribbling
down through her pussy lips as they squeezed helplessly around the
hard metal cock, could feel the slickness of her milky fluid along
every inch of its length as she pulled herself slowly, desperately up
and down, an inch, then two, then three, gasping and panting for
breath as her insides burned and roiled in agonized pleasure.
        Her nipple rings were tugging painfully now as she rocked
backwards, and her clit ring was hurting even more. The higher she
rode the more it pulled, and she moaned and gasped in pain as much as
pleasure.
        A small point of her mind told her this was insanity, but her
passion could not be controlled, and she fought through the pain as
she rocked in place, desperately lurching up and forward against the
pull of the chain on her clit, then slapping her buttocks back down
onto the cold cement floor.
        Then, as before, the pain, the sharp little stinging pain
began to meld with the pleasure, the sharp little burst of sensation
pushing against the deep, all-encompassing heat of the sexual want
within her, elevating it, crackling along its edges as it leant power
to it.
        She cried out softly, then with more strength, her mind
spinning as she slapped her ass down repeatedly, as she tore her pussy
up the length of the warm metal prong, her juices trickling down to
pool at its base even as her clit stretched painfully.
        "God! God! God!" she whimpered.
        "Oooohhhhh! Oooohhhhh!" the blonde moaned.
        "Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!" the black girl gasped.
        The orgasm tore through her and made her and she cried out,
her legs and arms crushing her against the post, her body shaking like
a leaf as she ground herself against the metal cock. Her mind drifted
on a warm sea of wondrous pleasure as all her cares and worries
disappeared under the soft heat of sexual bliss.
        Then she was still, limp, panting as she sought to regain her
breath.
        But soon enough the heat started up again, that hot, thick
metal buzzing softly within her snug belly, making her clitty vibrate
in tune and setting her to once again jerk and shake and moan in the
throes of helpless passion.
        She lost count of how many times, her mind turning to mush
after a while. She, like the other girls, eventually exhausted
themselves against the pipes, collapsing and nodding off.
        Which was almost when the lights snapped on and their
overseers returned to release them for a new day's training. All of
them were groggy and exhausted, both mentally and physically, but as
that was pretty much the way their trainers wanted them that presented
now great problem.
        All were walked on all fours to the bathrooms, then
tobreakfast, which was cool water and more mush eaten off plates on
the floor - without using their hands, of course.
        Then they went to close, practising deep-throat technique, on
various servitors and overseers. Then came massage, using warm oil on
each other's bodies as the trainers looked on and watched their
technique.
        After that came a jog around the exercise ring, their hands
still locked behind their backs, of course.
        Following that each girl bent over an overseer's lap for a
spanking. This was not considered a disciplinary action but rather a
form of sexual foreplay they must learn in order to please their
masters.
        Then speaking class, where each girl learned how to talk like
the slut slave she now was. That meant pitching her voice higher and
talking with wide eyes and in a tone which left doubt that there was
anything in their heads other than air.
        "Would you like to fuck, Sarah, master?" she asked, bright-
eyed.
        Referring to herself in the third person was also something
the masters liked, she came to understand. Now that she noticed, in
fact, none of the other women referred to themselves in any other way.
         "Ooooooo, please do it to my ass, master," the blonde, Meghan
gasped in a throaty, desperate, passion-filled voice that sent a
little quiver of excitement through Sarah.
        She turned admiringly. Obviously this slut was one of the best
trained here. She would have to do her best to imitate the way she
acted and the expressions on her face.
        After that came the question and answer class. Almost as soon
as she slid her pussy down onto the metal pipe she started to feel
herself heat up, and as she waited for the first question to be
directed at her she felt a mixture of anxiety and anticipation.
        It was asked, and she failed it, then cried out, mostly in
pain, but partly in something else too as her insides screamed and
burned.         Three more times an electric shock was shot up into
her tight belly, each one having less effect than the previous, for
she was on the verge of orgasm by the last, and desperately trying to
suppress it.
         She realized she wasn't the only girl in that situation, for
all of their faces were flushed as the class ended and they were
released to practice class.
        Practice Class was where they were given a chance to serve
overseers who pretended to be masters, though many of the girls were
more than a little confused about the difference by then.
        All of them were eager to please by then, and eager to be
used. Sarah eagerly licked the toes of the master she was assigned to,
begging him to use her any way he desired. She took him into her
mouth, then into her throat, groaning in delight as her lips ran up an
down his thick erection.        Then she all but squealed in joy as
she turned and presented her hot, moist, quivering sex for his
enjoyment. He made ready use of it, and a wall of bliss surrounded her
as she knelt on all fours, eyes closed and grunting with delight.
        Next to her, Meghan was being used in precisely the same
fashion, gasping and whining as the pleasure poured through her
system. She knew she should be furious, but wasn't. All she cared
about was that deliciously hard male organ thrusting into her burning
sex hole.
         Both girls came simultaneously, their voices rising and
falling in blissful melody as the steady slap slap slap of bellies
striking buttocks echoed around them.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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