by Roget Gaiton
She then said, “It really is Mary,” and got another.
Then in a very frustrated voice, “Sir, my real name is Mary, the other was my cover name.” That got her a third stroke.
I then asked again “What is your real name, SLAVE?” My emphasis on the word slave gave her the clue she needed and she answered, “My name is 317, Sir.” Before she had time to think or recover I grasped her hair with my left hand and her pussy with my right. The erotic exercises had her so hot that she watched herself orgasm under my touch in only a few seconds.
I had her crawl back and forth across the room twice then out into the hallway. The next-door down was a small bedroom and I had her crawl into it and all the way to the edge of the bed. I then had her rise and lay down on her stomach for me and explained that she had been a very good slave and the strokes she was about to get were for my pleasure only, not a punishment. She said, “Yes Sir,” then remained silent as I gave her five cane strokes across the buttocks. They were light strokes but her skin was so abraded that she had to struggle to manage the pain.
Now it was time for her final lesson of the day. I rolled her over and made her open her legs as wide as she could in comfort. Her pussy was open and warm and wet. My inclination was to simply enter and take her but I wanted to associate submission with extreme pleasure. So, I resisted my impulse and instead applied a small but powerful vibrator to her delicate mound. She didn’t try to resist, either physically or emotionally and soon entered a long series of powerful orgasms. I kept them going until her body couldn’t handle any more before allowing her a short rest. Long before she had really recovered, I covered and entered her. She was so hot physically that she responded with searing passion and so needy emotionally that she was desperate to please. I took her for a long time and, helpless though she was, with subtle motions of her body she took me as well. For the very last part I pulled her legs up and looked into her eyes as I entered her ass. She was pleased by the passion she was inspiring and relaxed her body to let me take her. When I was ready I thrust hard enough to stimulate her clit and we came together. I then held her close in silence for a long warm time.
When I got out of bed she asked me to please come back and said that she didn’t want to be alone. I told her that she wasn’t going to be alone, then handed her a bottle of water, which she drained quickly. That being done I told her to stand. She grumbled as much as she dared then stood and held her body close to mine. If I had desired to keep her as a personal slave I would have slept with her. Since she was being trained to sell I led her from the room and back down the hall. Our destination was the female slave quarters, that is basically a large bedroom with three adjoining king-sized beds, a small but stocked kitchenette and a dresser containing every cosmetic and perfume imaginable.
I opened the door to the sound of four women giggling. When they saw me the giggles continued as the women rose, but at the sight of 317 they stopped and were replaced with a dreadful silence. Before they had a chance to greet me or speak I said: “Ladies, this slave made an error tonight but she has been punished and forgiven for it. She has also been used very hard and is in need of comfort.” The room remained silent until I prodded 317 and asked, “Is there anything you wish to add?”
She knelt, which I thought was a nice touch then said simply, “I am so very sorry, I had no idea they would punish you for what I did” and began to cry. All four women went to her and as I closed the door they were all hugging and sobbing together.
With the day now done I went to my room and to bed. At the time I didn’t have a personal slave and usually liked it that way. As the head trainer I spent my days immersed in sex and being able to sleep in peace and solitude felt good. This night, for the first time in a long time, my bed felt cold and empty. Growling at myself for my own weakness I tried to shake the feeling and go to sleep. Thoughts of the 317 that I knew I could create gave me an erection that was still there the next morning.
Day 3
I started the day off well. Using the intercom I sent a guard to gently wake and fetch 317. She arrived 20 minutes later washed, made up and groomed. She climbed into bed next to me without being told and I pulled her close for a morning kiss and snuggle. I had intended to take her on arrival but with that annoying timing unique to the male member my erection had subsided. We snuggled quietly for a little while then she asked for permission to speak. I allowed it with pleasure and began the conversation by asking her if she had woken up wet. She told me without blushing that she had then told me how she had gotten even wetter watching two of the slaves having early morning sex. Suddenly her face turned serious and she asked me if I was going to make her bisexual. I was delighted by the question since it showed that she now accepted my total control over her and without having to think about it I explained that I wasn’t really but that to some degree it is a side effect of her training. She wanted to understand so I went into more detail and explained that a bisexual person desires sex with people of both genders. That wouldn’t happen to her and probably couldn’t be trained into a woman. Instead we would train her to love her body and the pleasure that it could give her. As a consequence of that the pleasurable feelings a woman’s hands or tongue could give her would become something she liked. That is a bit different from becoming bisexual though the result is largely the same.
She caressed me quietly for a few minutes then worked up her courage to ask me a more serious question. “Why did you want me to think that I had killed that man?” This one I did have to think about. Not the why but how to phrase it so that she would understand.
“You did kill him. He just didn’t happen to die. That was the extreme of the person you used to be and I think that person is very offensive to you. By making you see that person starkly and the consequence of being that person, then showing you the pleasure that being a slave can be I took you a long way towards becoming what I believe that you can become.”
“What is it that you think I can become?”
“The kind of woman that men dream of all their lives and unless they are very lucky never even get to meet much less have.”
She smiled at that idea and then asked what a woman like that would be doing right now. I told her; “deliberately making me hot but making it seem like an accident then resisting just enough to make it really fun to make you submit.”
She yawned and did a very sexual stretch while saying, “I don’t know if that is such a good idea, you play kind of rough.”
Then she snuggled up against me in such a way that her genitals were pressed against my leg and moved against me very slightly as she told me, “I want to just snuggle, you can take one of the other slaves and let me rest.”
It worked; I was rolling her over and opening her legs before the echo faded. I took her firmly. Thrusting inside her without taking any steps to make her wet first. Luckily they were not needed. She was wet and slick and as always a wonderful fit. For the first few seconds she just accepted me inside her. She was compliant and sexy but showed no real passion of her own. Very quickly she heated up and began seeking as much pleasure as she gave. I took her to orgasm by sucking each of her nipples hard. As she responded she asked, “how do you do that, how do you hurt me to make me hot?” I ignored the question and ordered her to thank me each time she came. A long and pleasant time later I ordered breakfast and we began our respective days.
Her morning was spent in class. First she had a long stretch on a computer taking a tutorial on male sexual psychology that we had liberated from a major university. After that she had “movement class.” This was taught by one of the mistresses, a former dancer. It was a lesson on how to walk, stand and serve erotically. Good performance was encouraged via a rattan cane but that was mostly for effect. Every woman there, including 317, gave their best effort.
I began the morning reading all the updates on our U.N. friends and their doings. So far we had uncovered a weakness in our customer screening system. One of the public clubs that we are con
nected to had a long and favorable record of a D/s couple on their computer. Somehow that record had been tapped and studied. 317 and her cohort had then gone to another club using those identities and references, then after a short membership there, had been referred to us as potential clients. This was where I once again earned my position with the organization. Pulling bits of information here and putting them together with odd events there I finished the morning with a clear picture of what was really going on. From there it was relatively simple to track backwards and find out who was pulling the strings. After reviewing my facts a fifth time I sent a message to the man we call the “Sheikh” requesting that he be available for a meeting soon and I sent a team out to capture and fetch a very famous and amazingly rich movie director. That being done, I summoned the leaders present for a briefing.
It was a short discussion. The way I put it together the director had been in the sheikh's territory. Something he saw there had made him very angry and when he got home he tried to use his influence and wealth to get the U.S. government to go after us. This effort failed because we have done them many services in the past, mostly in the form of getting people who have nothing but our services in common to negotiate. Being Jewish he then went to Israel. They were also unwilling to attack us directly but did steer him to the right committees of the UN. A few meetings and a lot of dollars later we had a brand new enemy.
When that meeting broke up the Dr Ling, our chief of psychiatry and arguably the strangest man alive, remained behind for a private word with me. He had studied films of 317 being trained several times over the past two days and had his report ready for me. It agreed with my own analysis but it is always reassuring to hear the same thing from an expert. He felt that we had achieved full surface submission from 317 and if we just continued her training she would eventually be a true submissive. For now though she still harbored hope of escape and possibly even revenge and needed to be watched closely. When I told him what I had in mind for later he not only agreed but also laughed at the image.
I took 317 to the main dining room for lunch. This is our second largest room and has a distinctly Arab flavor. The tables are short and placed before couches with pads between the two. Our cooks bring the food into the room then his own slave or slaves serve each Master. We eat relaxed on the couches; our slaves, on a different menu, sit on the pads on the floor to eat. It’s a wonderful way to dine and the profusion of naked women does wonders for the appetite.
Half way through lunch Mey Chun entered the room carrying a large bag and shot 317 a look that seemed to inspire terror. 317 started to rise but I ordered her back down and told her that slaves’ business was handled among slaves, not during their Masters’ dining. 317 worried through the rest of the meal. I lingered so that we were the last diners. I knew what Mey Chun was there for and that she would stay as well. When the last Master was gone I gave 317 permission to speak to Mey Chun. She started by telling her how sorry she was and that she had been fully punished for her transgressions. Mey Chun looked at her as though she needed to be flushed and asked what punishment she had received for breaking her promise not to remove the bar. 317 realized that there had been none for that and said so with her head bowed. Mey Chun asked if she wished to be punished for this. 317 said that she would submit to anything Mey Chun desired and got a firm slap across the cheek as soon as the words were done.
“I didn’t ask if you would submit to it Cunt! I asked if you wanted it.”
Tearing both from the slap and from her tone 317 said, “Yes Mey Chun. I beg to be punished and I beg for you to do it.” I had to admire 317’s courage for that. Mey Chun plays very rough. When Mey Chun looked the permission question at me, I gave her my consent.
I felt like ordering popcorn, this was going to be a great show. Mey Chun began by opening the door to the kitchen and yelling, “John, Tom, get your fat lazy butts out here!” Moments later the chefs came hustling through the door. They were both trying to look terrified but were actually very excited. Being dominated by women is the biggest part of their pay.
“Strip, you miserable Worms!”
In moments both men were naked and semi erect. Mey Chun ordered them to stand at attention then ordered 317 to stand in front of them and masturbate - “holding nothing back.” Even watching her from behind I couldn’t help but think about what a lovely woman 317 is. She has perfect skin, generous curves and very nice hair. Within a few minutes both they and I were sporting full erections. Without having 317 stop, Mey Chun told the men that 317 was in need of serious punishment and asked if they would like to take turns sodomising her. Both men agreed with enthusiasm and I wished I could see the look on 317’s face. Mey Chun looked reflective for a moment and then commented that she deserved even more and asked the men if they would like to make her suck them after they finished with her ass. 317’s knees buckled a little at that and both men cheerfully said that they would love to do that. Mey Chun then carefully slapped each man hard across the face and called him a disgusting pig.
Even as the men were saying “yes, Mam,” Mey Chun was reaching into her bag. She came out with three sets of butterfly style nipple clips and a 3-foot long rattan cane. With a voice dripping disdain she handed 317 the clips and said, “the pigs first, then you.” Each man had to struggle to maintain his position as the clips were applied. Butterflies are fairly harsh. 317 actually handled them better but I could tell that they had her attention as well. Mey Chun then handed 317 the cane and ordered “25 each for being pigs plus as many as you think they deserve for wanting to make you suck shit off of their tiny little cocks.” I watched 317 closely. Women often have trouble inflicting pain, especially submissive women. 317 took to it like a pro. Her first stroke was tentative but after that she delivered the blows without hesitation or mercy. Each man got three sets of ten welts running parallel from the lower part of the rump up to the shoulder blades.
Mey Chun gave the slightest of smiles at the quality of the caning then ordered the men to lay on their backs a couple of feet apart and motioned 317 over. When they were settled she told 317 that if she looked closely she would be able to tell that they were both still hard. That was a bit of slander as both men had average endowments but 317 fell into the spirit of the event and said, “I think I see something, maybe.” Mey Chun then said that it was 317’s turn to be caned and ordered her down on all fours between the men and holding a “micro cock” in each hand.
It took 317 several tries to find a position where she could hold both cocks and yet remain balanced. Once she settled in Mey Chun began caning her. It was hard to decide who looked more frightened, 317 or the men. Mey Chun saw that her rump was already bruised and welted and used relatively soft strokes. Each one made a slight pink stripe but not a welt and elicited a gasp that demonstrated a satisfactory level of pain. As each stroke fell 317 twitched and tightened her grip on the penises she held. After 20 strokes Mey Chun put the cane back in her bag; then took 317 by the hand and led her to the couch where I was sitting. They sat on the opposite end and Mey Chun pulled 317 close to hug, touch and comfort her for several minutes. As they embraced 317 said again that she really was sorry. Mey Chun gave a wicked grin that told her everything was all right now and said; “You are about to get the chance to make it up to me.” She then called to the men ordering them, “crawl over here, you dogs, I need a set of foot stools.”
Before she positioned them to act as stools, Mey Chun positioned the men facing each other, about 2 feet apart. She then reached over and pulled Tom’s clips off with a brutal yank. He had to struggle not to scream for the first few seconds. As soon as the first intense pain had passed she ordered John to“suckle and fondle him like a Bitch.” John was obviously disturbed by the homosexuality of the act but wisely chose to obey the order with enthusiasm. The sucking and pinching kept Tom in serious pain for about a minute before it eased off. At that point Mey Chun repositioned the men and repeated the process exactly, with John as the recipient.
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nbsp; 317 was already in the sort of deep submission that keeps a submissive from experiencing pain in the normal way. It wouldn’t be right to say that a slave in this state doesn’t feel pain. The best way to describe it would be to say that they are somewhat detached from it. When Mey Chun removed her clips (a bit more gently than she had the men’s) 317 gave a shudder and moaned but remained in complete control, even when Mey Chun had each man suck one of her nipples.
What followed was a pervert’s dream to watch and I was entranced. Mey Chun positioned the men so that they were each massaging one of her feet and holding it so that her legs were spread wide apart. She then stroked 317.s face gently and asked her in the sweetest voice imaginable to “pleasure her.” 317 moved between Mey Chun’s legs and said, “teach me how” even as she began to kiss the sweetest of spots. Mey Chun offered soft suggestions as she relaxed and enjoyed the flood of sensations. Soon she was enjoying a series of orgasms without a trace of inhibition. I was wishing I had a drink to ease the dryness in my mouth from all of my panting and contemplating that any of the 2 vaginas, 4 asses or 10 hands available at the moment would do me a world of good when, of course, the bomb went off. Not a literal bomb, just 3 soft dings on the intercom that meant I was urgently needed elsewhere. Vowing that whoever caused this was going to spend the rest of their life as the toilet in a leper colony, I quietly left the room.
