Traynor said, “It seems you’re not completely useless. I can make you a success on the Tour; that goes without saying. I think it may even be possible to turn you into a halfway decent fuck. So, are you in or are you out?”
Kit looked him square in the eye, set her jaw at its most defiant angle, and answered, “I’m in, Mr. Traynor. I’m in all the way.”
Chapter Four: Discipline
Traynor went back to his desk, motioning for Kit to follow. He pulled a sheaf of papers from her file and spread them out on the desk. “This is the agreement you will sign before I accept you as my student. The 100 thousand dollar deposit is in escrow, and it will be transferred into my account as soon as you finish signing the contract. Have you read the non-disclosure clause, and do you understand and agree to it?” he asked.
“Yes to both,” Kit replied.
“Then initial here,” he told her. He spent the next few minutes painstakingly reviewing the terms of the agreement, and then he called in a secretary to witness and notarize her signature. The woman affected not to notice Kit’s nakedness, for which she was grateful.
After the final signature and the last initials were affixed and the secretary had carried away the contract, Traynor reached underneath his desk to push a button. A moment later, the back wall of the office swung open to reveal a corridor.
“Let’s go, Thayer,” he said, gesturing to Kit. When she started to gather up her clothing, he said, “No, just leave that stuff there. You won’t need it.”
Kit reluctantly dropped her clothes and followed Traynor into the hallway. After she stepped through, the heavy section of wall slid back to close behind her, making the floor shudder. The sound had a certain finality about it that made her glance nervously back over her shoulder.
Traynor chuckled. “Too late for second thoughts now, Thayer. You’re mine now for as long as I want to keep you.”
“Yes, sir,” Kit answered, trying to sound enthusiastic.
“Now, you may have wondered why I decided to change my policy on what students I am willing to accept,” he said as they walked down the hallway. “It was not because of your sexy little body, although you are premium gash. At least, that wasn’t the only reason. You see, you are not my first 18 year-old student…” He stopped, threw open a door, and waved Kit in. “…you’re only the second.”
Kit was shocked when she entered the room and saw a beautiful naked girl of about her own age with long, black hair and coffee-colored skin. However, it was neither the girl’s nudity nor her beauty that made Kit stop in her tracks in dismay. Rather, it was what Traynor had done to her.
The anonymous girl was bound with both arms and one leg tied together directly over her head. She appeared to be carrying most of her weight on the remaining leg, which was the only part of her body in contact with the ground, and the muscles looked as if they were badly cramped. A thick strip of tape covered her eyes, and another her mouth, which bulged as if some over-sized object had been jammed inside. There were livid ridges all over her body, most of them concentrated across the jutting cones of her breasts, her fine, round buttocks and between her thighs, starting from a few inches below the dark-fronded triangle of her sex on either side, and continuing up, as Kit saw to her dismay, right onto her mound. Her entire body was covered with droplets of perspiration, from which the overhead spotlights reflected blindingly.
“Kit Thayer, meet Dana Watson. Watson, say hello to your new classmate, Kit Thayer,” Traynor said. To Kit, he added, “I signed her up yesterday.” The bound figure made a low sound that could have meant anything.
Kit whirled to face Traynor. “My God, what have you done to this poor girl, you monster? Get her down from there before you really do some damage to her!” Without waiting for Traynor to respond, Kit immediately went to the girl and started to lower the rope that held her three limbs overhead.
Before Kit could do more than put her hand on the rope, she was yanked brutally back by her hair and flung down backwards on the floor. A red-faced, angry Traynor loomed over her, looking like an ogre from some very unpleasant fairy tale. He had gotten a whip from someplace, and he immediately began to lash Kit’s naked body with it while he kept her pinned to the floor with a booted foot planted on her chest.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, interfering with my discipline?” he demanded, slashing at Kit’s legs, breasts and belly, while she made futile attempts to protect herself with her hands.
“Stop! Stop it! I’m sorry!” Kit screamed. “I… Ah! Ah!... I lost my head… Oww! Fuck that hurts!”
“I can see we’re going to have to get a few matters straightened out right away,” Traynor said. He lifted his boot and stopped beating her, but displayed the whip menacingly. “Turn over and put your hands together behind your back, cunt. Don’t move unless you want to change places with her.” He indicated Dana with a movement of his head.
Kit submissively flipped over to face the floor while Traynor moved away and then quickly returned. She looked back over her shoulder and saw him slip a set of handcuffs over her wrists and lock them shut with two metallic clicks.
“What… what are you going to do to me?” she asked nervously.
“Shut up,” he answered. “You’ll find out soon enough.” Still squatting over her prone form, he ordered, “Give me your feet.”
Kit bent her knees and lifted her thighs off the ground to bring her bare feet toward Traynor. He captured them and locked another pair of metal bracelets around her ankles. This second pair of cuffs was attached to the ones on Kit’s wrists by two short links of chain. When Traynor was finished, all four of Kit's limbs were bound together behind her back, and she was helplessly bowed in an uncomfortable arc.
Traynor picked up the 125 pound girl from the ground with one hand without any noticeable effort (Christ he’s strong! Kit thought), carried her a short distance across the room like a piece of luggage, then lifted her up to attach the link between the two sets of cuffs to a hook at the end of a chain which descended from the ceiling.
Kit groaned as her body sagged, bending her into a near-circular shape and making her feel as if someone was trying to tie her in a knot. “Please, Mr. Traynor, I’m sor… awk!”
She got no further before Traynor filled her mouth with a huge wad of foam rubber. Before she could even begin to attempt to expel the stuff, he applied a rectangle of silvery duct tape to her lips.
“If I didn’t already know that you and Emily were related, I probably could have figured it out by the goody-goody way you both behave,” Traynor told her. “You interfered with me on behalf of a complete stranger, and earned yourself a nice punishment. Your sister did almost the same thing her first day here for that Indian slut, Littlefeather. This was before they even knew each other, you understand. Now I am going to show you why you should mind your own business from here on out, even if you don’t care what I do to you. You are going to make your first acquaintance with discipline.” He strongly emphasized the last word.
He laid the whip on a table, then swung wide open the double doors of a metal cabinet to reveal to Kit’s horrified eyes a collection of whips, crops, paddles, restraints, clamps, probes and other objects she was content to be unable to identify. Traynor selected something that resembled a long-handled, two-tined barbeque fork, but that differed in that the handle was unusually thick, and had a switch and a button built into it, suggesting that it was an electrical device of some kind. Kit was afraid she knew what kind.
Traynor unscrewed the base of the handle, and emptied out three “D” batteries, confirming Kit’s guess. He fished around in a drawer in the lower part of the cabinet and found replacement batteries.
“Haven’t used this for a while, so I want to make sure it has full power,” he explained to Kit as he replaced the cap. He clicked the small switch with his thumb, and then held his finger between the points at the business end of the device and pushed the red button.
“Ouch!” he exclaimed, jerking his hand a
way hastily. He shook the injured member a few times, and confided to Kit, “That smarts… as you are about to find out for yourself.”
Dana turned her blinded eyes in Traynor’s direction and made an interrogatory sound. “I’ll be right with you, Watson,” he promised. To Kit, he said, “Just remember: you’re responsible for what’s about to happen to this girl.”
He walked over to Dana. “Thayer here decided she knew better than me, and tried to take you down from there before I was ready, so I’m going to have to teach her a lesson. Unfortunately for you, part of the lesson includes some extra punishment for you, so she will learn that there’s less than no point in interfering with me. It’s something you might want to keep in mind yourself, Watson, just in case the occasion ever arises.”
He pressed the tines into the soft flesh under Dana’s left arm, and then pressed the button, ignoring Kit’s sudden, incoherent protest.
The girl made a series of soft sounds, which, though muffled by the gag, were clearly muffled cries of pain. She flinched so violently from the shock that droplets of sweat flew glittering through the air all around, and hopped in a circle on her free leg, causing her to start turning as she hung from the overhead rope.
“That looked very painful, Watson,” Traynor remarked as he watched her one-legged, impromptu jig. “Was it?”
She nodded her head vigorously and said “Urrr!’ as loudly as she could, which was not very loudly at all.
Traynor steadied her body with his hand, stopping her slow rotation, then pressed the tines of the fork lightly against one of her long, pink nipples. Dana shook her head vehemently and mumbled “Nnnn!”
“Which would you say hurt more, the first one, or this?” Traynor inquired interestedly, as he triggered the cattle prod on her delicate nub. This time, the girl jumped straight up in the air and made a somewhat higher-pitched (although still stifled) cry.
“So, the second one was worse, then?” he asked the madly writhing Dana. If she even heard the question, she did not attempt to make any response. Over the course of the next few minutes, Kit was forced to watch and listen as Traynor applied the prod another half-dozen times to various parts of Dana’s body, driving the helpless young woman repeatedly into a one-footed spastic dance of agony. What made it almost unbearable for Kit was the sickening knowledge that she was the cause of the strange girl’s suffering.
It was a great relief for Kit when Traynor, satisfied at last that the innocent Dana had endured enough pain to teach Kit the lesson he wanted her to learn, finally stopped tormenting the dark-haired girl, even though that meant Kit herself was about to feel his wrath. He approached the hog-tied blonde, brandishing the sinister, long-handled fork. “Your turn now,” he said.
When Traynor touched the points to Kit’s inner thigh and pressed the button, the pain was quite as bad as she had anticipated. She screeched with all her might (without managing to make any noticeable noise), and flung herself wildly in her bonds as lightning shot through her body. She rolled her eyes up at him, wordlessly pleading for mercy. Traynor seemed to understand.
“If I stopped now, what kind of message would you take away from this session? That it’s safe to be insubordinate, because I’ll forgive you when you bat your big, blue eyes at me?” Traynor asked. As he did not give her an opportunity to answer, it appeared that these were purely rhetorical questions. He shook his head. “No, no, Thayer. The first thing you are going to need to learn is discipline. Until you have that, I can’t teach you anything useful, and you will be incapable of absorbing what I have to offer.”
He moved in close behind her, until he stood between her outspread thighs. He touched the points of the prod deeply between her buttocks and pressed down, causing the flesh to dimple inward and Kit to whimper in fear and distress as the sharp points pressed into the tender flesh. Then he thumbed the trigger again.
This time the pain was so great that it seemed to Kit that she had departed from the familiar world she had known her whole life, to be transported for a few endless seconds to another universe, one composed entirely of suffering and fiery agony. When she returned to the mundane world again, Kit was swinging back and forth, twisting side to side, and wriggling her abdomen like a belly dancer, all at the same time. This did not mean that the pain had vanished. On the contrary, it continued to throb in waves for what seemed like hours, although in reality it lasted no more than a minute or so.
At last, she looked up to see Traynor watching her struggles dispassionately, or, at least, so it appeared to Kit at first glance. But although the expression on his face did not betray the pleasure he was deriving from her suffering, he could not hide the avid gleam in his eye (and to be fair, Kit thought, perhaps he did not want to).
It was at this moment Kit had a revelation. It came to her that Traynor did not inflict pain on his students merely because it helped give him control over the minds of his female trainees (or, as she and Dana now were for all intents and purposes, his slaves), nor because it was an effective way of reinforcing his golf training (she was quite certain this would be coming), nor primarily as an end to any particular means, although he did use pain for these reasons. Kit now understood in her bones for the first time that, for Traynor, the physical suffering and mental anguish of his students was its own reward. It was his keenest pleasure to hurt and humiliate the young women who came to him, seeking his help. As the points of the cattle prod pressed into her breast, just before the bolt of pain ripped into her, Kit took a moment to admire the persistence and toughness of Emily, Shelly and all the other women before her who somehow survived a year in the clutches of the sadistic golf coach. She silently tipped an imaginary hat to them, hoping that she could be as brave as they had been.
Then Traynor pushed the button again, and all rational thought fled.
Chapter Five: Evaluation
After Kit’s correction was finally over, and she was functioning again at something like her normal physical and mental levels (which took surprisingly little time), she assumed that what remained of the day would be devoted to routine matters, such as scheduling, settling her and Dana into their rooms, dinner, and so forth.
She was surprised when nothing of the sort happened. After Traynor released the two girls from their restraints, he said, “OK, I think we’ve wasted enough time this morning. Let’s try to accomplish something useful today. I have a feeling you two are going to need all the training time you can get.”
The girls, who had been deprived, along with her clothing, of all of their indispensable modern devices, including their watches (even their iPhones!), had no way of knowing the time. Kit had estimated that the punishment session had lasted for hours (it felt like days to her), so how could … “What time is it, Mr. Traynor? It can’t still be the morning… can it?” she blurted.
Traynor looked at her impatiently. “You entered my office at 8:30. It is now…” he glanced down at his watch, “…10:05. So, if you think you have time to fit it into your busy schedule, Miss Thayer, I suggest we spend what remains of the morning working on your golf game.” He spun on his heel, opened the door to the corridor, and walked briskly away without bothering to see if they were following. Kit and Dana hastily rushed after him.
Kit offered her hand to Dana as they trailed along behind Traynor. “It’s nice to meet you, Dana. I am so sorry about the punishment from Traynor I caused,” she said. “I had no idea he would…”
Dana took the proffered hand and smiled. “Don’t even think about it, Kit. He doesn’t need an excuse to hurt us. If it hadn’t been what you did just then, it would have been something else later. That’s how he gets his kicks,” she said
Kit nodded. “That’s pretty much the way I see it, too. The question is, are we going to get any actual golf instruction, or is he just going to tie us up and fuck us every day for a year, then laugh and kick us out?” she asked, her voice dropping low as she asked the question.
Dana hesitated. “I think…” Kit never got to find
out what she thought, because the voice of Traynor, emerging from a room further down the hall (what an enormous facility he had, Kit thought) bellowed, “Do you cunts want to be professional golfers, or not? If you do, you’d better get your tits in here right now.” Kit and Dana exchanged alarmed glances, and hurried ahead.
The room was large, and was the most impressive private golf facility Kit had ever seen. It was a combination club-fitting shop and indoor driving range. On one side was a huge selection of golf clubs: dozens of sets of irons, racks of woods and a display of putters surrounding an artificial turf putting green. There was also a club-making area, equipped for anything from assembling new clubs to installing new grips on old ones. There was also a pair of golf simulators, each consisting of a tee box facing a high wall covered by a sensor screen, which measured the speed, direction and spin of a ball striking it, and produced a computer- image of the results on a simulated golf course.
“Glad you could join me,” Traynor said, in a tone of voice dripping with sarcasm. Then, he became more businesslike. “Now, one of the advantages of working with experienced pros, as I have always done in the past, is that I had some video footage of them playing golf, and had a pretty good idea of what kind of game they had before they got here. With you two, I’m going to have to start from scratch, because I don’t know anything about your strengths and weaknesses.” He pointed to the club racks. “Go pick out some equipment, loosen up, then get on the tees and start hitting some balls. The simulators will record everything, and I’ll review it tonight.”
Bound For The Tour 2: Inside The Ropes Page 3
