by Jack Quaiz
Seeing her friend Monica in the sexy dress and being dominated by her had been one of the biggest sexual turn-ons that she could remember. And Cole made a very authentic kinky chauffeur. His behavior was chilling, almost menacing. She felt like he was capable of anything, which was a highly arousing thought. Her envy of Cole and Monica’s relationship threatened to flare up, but her attention was drawn to the sound of someone walking toward her.
The unseen person stepped behind her and removed the blindfold. It was Cole and he had changed into a casual outfit of white dungarees and a black T-shirt. He was no longer playing the part of the Chauffeur, but still had that menacing air.
“Good afternoon, little slave. I am the Trainer and you will address me as Sir, is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“My job is to prepare you to serve Mr. Toriuchi. As you recall, your contract states that my approval is required before you can be considered fit for duty in the Master’s household. I expect you to obey all my instructions without hesitation. Your first instruction is never to speak unless you are spoken to. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Your friend Monica had a very important job today. She was supposed to make you obey all the usual rules on the ride here. Unfortunately, you broke some of the rules. You did not address her as Ma’am, you tried to cover yourself and you failed to hold still when ordered to do so. It was Monica’s job to punish you immediately for all of those violations. Unfortunately, she was overcome with lust and spent her time fondling you instead of punishing you. For that reason, Monica is going to be punished. You will watch and you will be totally silent. Your punishment will occur when I’m ready. Don’t make it any worse.”
He signaled for Monica to come forward. She was completely naked except for a pair of black heels and a pair of large golden earrings. Her hard nipples betrayed her arousal. In both hands, she carried a wide leather strap with a short wooden handle. Kneeling gracefully before Cole, she offered it to him with her eyes averted. He took it in his right hand and caressed the soft heavy leather with his left. Monica draped her curvaceous body over the back of the leather sofa with her hands on the seat. Her pleasingly rounded hips seemed large compared to Jennifer’s tiny form and her ass was nicely presented for punishment.
He looked over his shoulder to see Jennifer watching with eyes wide. The first stroke rang out with a loud crack. Monica took the punishment stoically, with only a little grunt or moan with each stroke. After the fifth stroke, Jennifer was obviously in emotional distress, her small chest heaving. On the eight stroke, she burst out, “Please, Sir, don’t punish her any more. It was all my fault.”
Cole looked her way and said, “I told you to keep quiet, little slave. Your punishment will be increased to reflect your disobedience.”
He stopped strapping Monica after two more strokes. Unknown to Jennifer, this was very mild play by Monica’s standards.
Cole told Monica to sit on the sofa and watch. Then he turned to face Jennifer who was cowering in her white panties and handcuffs. Her eyes were watching him with obvious apprehension. Stepping behind her, he reached under her hair and placed his strong right hand on the back of her neck. He squeezed just enough for her to feel the power, no more force than one might use for a massage. The nutmeg and cinnamon smell of her cologne was suddenly very noticeable.
Jennifer calmed down and relaxed in response to the controlling hand on her neck. “You are a very beautiful little slave girl, but you are so disobedient,” he said calmly.
“Yes, Sir,” she said quietly as she trembled slightly before him. He was quite frightening in this role, but somehow she also felt strangely safe and secure. His hand on her neck was both controlling and reassuring.
“I want you to admit that you’ve been a naughty little slave girl and tell me that you’ll accept your punishment.”
“I’ve been very naughty, Sir. I’ll accept whatever punishment you think is appropriate.” She trembled in a most charming manner.
“Good. I’m going to remove those handcuffs, then I want you to assume a kneeling position.” He moved easily behind her again and unlocked the handcuffs, then stood back to give her room to move.
Jennifer knelt with the tops of her feet flat on the carpet and her hands on her hips. Her shoulders slouched forward revealing the fact that she was self conscious about her breasts, which were still adorned with the nipple clips and silver chain. She was shivering slightly in spite of the warmth from the nearby fireplace.
Cole spoke to her in his deep, forceful voice. “Get your toes under your feet, then sit on your heels. That’s right. Now place your hands on your thighs with your palms up. Straighten your back. Eyes down.”
With her back straight, her small breasts were proudly displayed. Her hips also had a more nicely rounded shape than Cole had expected. He used both hands to stroke her silky black hair and shape it into a ponytail that draped down her back all the way to her waist. Then he massaged her shoulders for a few minutes to help establish a bond with his delicate new playmate.
When she seemed more relaxed, he announced, “It’s time for your punishment now. Hold still for me.”
He reached around and quickly removed both nipple clips. Before she could react, he grabbed her arms just above the elbows and held them tightly behind her back. Kneeling behind her, he couldn’t see her face, but he heard the sharp intake of breath, then an agonized scream as the pain exploded in her suddenly released nipples. She struggled to tear her arms free so that she could cup her abused breasts with her hands, but Cole held her in a vice-like grip. Monica, who was watching from the sofa, was able to see Jennifer’s tightly shut eyes and wide open mouth.
It took a few minutes for Jennifer to stop wailing and trying to pull free. Her extremely hard nipples were still throbbing painfully in time with her rapid pulse.
“If you can keep your hands at your sides, I’ll let you go now, little slave.”
“OK, sir, I’m ready now.”
She stayed there, kneeling on the carpet, looking down at her abused flesh and savoring the submissive rush that washed over her. In her current state of mind, Cole could have done anything to her and she sincerely hoped that he would.
“The next phase of your punishment is also a test. All you have to do is hold still while I touch you. Come over here and sit on my lap.”
Cole moved to the sofa where Monica was sitting and sat down with a few feet between them. Then he motioned Jennifer to sit on his lap facing him with her knees straddling his legs. Her lovely little breasts were directly in front of his face. He could feel the warmth emanating from between her legs, but he resisted the urge to touch her there. He ordered Jennifer to clasp her hands together behind her back and hold as still as possible.
Delicately, using only the tips of his fingers, he slowly stroked Jennifer’s swollen and sensitive nipples. The sudden sensation caused her to jerk herself back.
“Monica, would you mind holding our little slave for me? She isn’t very well trained yet, I’m afraid.”
Monica rose and stood behind the little Eurasian woman, then she seized Jennifer’s arms and held them in a wristlock behind her head. The restraint was as rigid as the strictest bondage. Jennifer could hardly move a millimeter. She was barely able to look down and see Cole’s hands moving towards her breasts. Whatever happened next was inevitable and Jennifer felt a thrill of fear that seemed to be centered deep in her womanhood.
Cole proceeded to stroke, pinch and suck her now super-responsive nipples. He enjoyed seeing her pretty little breasts bounce and jiggle. They looked like small ripe pears, waiting to be eaten. All Jennifer could do was tremble and gasp. After a few minutes of this pleasant sport, he put one hand down between her legs to check her arousal status and found that her panties were soaked.
“My dear Assistant Trainer, please take our little slave into the bedroom and give her a good flogging, then get her some dry panties. We’ll have a little break b
efore we introduce her to domestic service training.”
Monica helped Jennifer into the bedroom and pushed her down onto the bed. Picking up the light suede flogger, she proceeded to lash her submissive little friend over most of her body. She took great delight in ordering Jennifer to display her dainty round breasts to the stinging leather instrument.
When she had thoroughly covered Jennifer with the sensuous strokes, she allowed her to use the bathroom for a few moments and drink some cold water. With fresh panties, a pink pair this time, she seemed refreshed and ready to proceed. She wanted to say something to Monica that would convey how grateful she was for the chance to experience this kind of submission, but she was afraid of spoiling the convincing illusion that Monica was now her superior.
Once more in the living room, Jennifer was taught the proper way to carry a tray and serve coffee or tea to her Master and his associates. They started first with an empty tray and Cole coached her on the art of moving gracefully. It was different when you were naked, she found.
Next, she carried an old coffee mug on the tray and was told not to let it slip off, even if someone touched her in a way that would normally be offensive. Unfortunately, the first time that Monica pinched her sexy little bottom, Jennifer was startled into dropping the tray, which landed on the carpet with a thud.
Cole ordered her to bend over the back of the sofa with her hands on the leather seat cushion, just as Monica had earlier. With her nicely feminine pink panties still on, she received three medium strokes of the heavy leather strap. The pain was intense, probably the worst she had ever experienced, but she was able to hold her position. She kept her eyes closed for a moment after the last stroke and waited for the fire in her buttocks to cool. Then they continued her training.
The difficulty of the task was gradually increased. More cups were added to the tray. Monica took great delight in running her hand up the inside of Jennifer’s thigh when she least expected it. She was punished again, four strokes this time, for letting two of the cups hit the floor.
After more practice, water was poured into the cups and she learned how to pour more liquid from a pot in a very elegant manner. Jennifer felt a great pride at being able to perform for her two trainers. Twice more, she earned strokes of the punishment strap before Cole declared that her household servant training was over for the day.
Jennifer was taken into the bedroom again. This time she was thoroughly bound with soft white rope in a hog tie position. With her wrists and ankles firmly attached to each other behind her back, she was left on the soft bed to relax and think. She struggled a bit against the ropes, but it only intensified her feelings of sensual restraint. It was actually quite relaxing to lie there with nothing to do, no decisions to make. She did not sleep, but she fell into a dreamy state where she imagined herself serving a harsh master who wielded a nasty leather strap.
It was now early evening and Monica fixed a quick dinner. When she and Cole were finished, they went to free Jennifer. With an amazing lack of stiffness from her bondage ordeal, she walked into the kitchen expecting to sit at the table and eat. Much to her surprise, Cole produced a pet bowl filled with a sweet dry cereal and another filled with milk. Placing both bowls on the kitchen floor, he explained that she was to eat and drink without using her hands.
He was impressed with her enthusiasm. He had expected to restrain her hands, but there was no need. She ate her cereal and milk like a good little pet. Her pink panties and black hair made a nice color combination with the pink and black pattern in the vinyl floor. When she was finished, he told her that they would be going to the dungeon.
“This will not to be a training session,” he announced. “It is a test of your ability to allow yourself to be used sexually. You must allow yourself to be handled, hurt or used in any manner. If you fail to submit in any way, it will be noted on the evaluation that we are preparing for Mr. Toriuchi.
In the dungeon, Jennifer was struck by the warmth and cozy feel of the large room. She recognized the smell of scented candles from her previous visit. She was ordered to sit on one end of the leather massage table while various leather cuffs and straps were prepared. Lying on her back, she waited calmly while her wrists were attached to the far end of the table with leather cuffs and lengths of chain.
Cole picked up her legs and held them while Monica applied soft leather ankle cuffs which were rapidly drawn apart and up toward the ceiling with black nylon straps. Jennifer watched as her legs were spread wide, leaving only the soft pink panties to protect her most private parts from public view. Then a leather strap went around her waist and she found herself firmly strapped down to the table. Her bottom was positioned right at the very end of the table so that she hung over the edge slightly. It did not seem like a coincidence.
Cole approached her with a pair of scissors and she hoped that he was not as dangerous as he looked at that moment. Moving slowly, he slipped the scissors under the side panel of her panties and gradually cut through the thin fabric. One more cut and he was able to pull the panties away, leaving her exposed to his lecherous gaze.
Jennifer’s eyes widened in fear and anticipation as she looked at his face between her widely separated knees. She felt herself trembling as an inner voice urged her to give up her body to the dominant man who controlled her and was now in a position to do anything he wished.
“Nice bush,” he said. “Too bad it will have to go. Mr. Toriuchi likes all his slaves to be clean shaven.” He pulled on her pubic hair just hard enough to hurt, then used it like handles to pull apart her labia and inspect her pink inner flesh.
“Monica, bring the shaving equipment. I’d like you to take care of this, please.”
Jennifer could only lie there and experience the intense sensations. First Monica placed a hot wet towel on Jennifer’s pubic area. After a minute, it was almost too hot to stand. Jennifer was breathing rapidly in short gasps by the time the towel was removed and scented shaving cream was applied to her body with a soft brush. The heat had not only softened the hair, it had also sensitized her genital area so that every tiny touch caused a wave of erotic sensation to flow from the site.
Cole stood beside Jennifer and slowly ran his hands over her torso as if she were a beloved pet. She found it very calming, which was fortunate, considering what was next.
Monica produced a large shiny straight razor that would have frightened a strong man and proceeded to carefully remove every last one of Jennifer’s pubic hairs, even a few that sprouted near her little brown anus. Each tiny scrape of the razor felt like it was going straight to the pleasure centers of her brain. The dual sensations of fear and sexual arousal caused Jennifer to begin panting and she stared straight up at the ceiling. It took all of her willpower to hold still, but it was essential to avoid a nasty cut. She focused on the comforting feeling of being owned that was produced by Cole’s talented hands gently stroking her breasts and stomach.
When Monica was finished, she announced, “That’s it Sir, she’s completely bare now.”
Cole explained to Jennifer what would happen next. “You did very well little slave, we’re going to test your sexual responses now. I’ll be noting everything for the final report that I’m preparing for Mr. Toriuchi. Just relax and let yourself react in the most natural possible manner.”
He instructed Monica to perform cunnilingus on Jennifer’s now completely exposed cunt. Monica brought a chair up to the end of the table so she could sit with her face in the perfect position between Jennifer’s helplessly spread legs that were still firmly attached to the ceiling. Cole specified that all stimulation was to be external, nothing inside the vagina without his approval.
Cole made notes on a clipboard and occasionally checked Jennifer’s feet to see if her circulation was adequate. It was hard to ignore how pretty her shaved cunt looked, but he played the role of the detached observer perfectly.
Jennifer felt a strangely erotic sensation, as if she had been reduced to a simple sex object and w
as no longer a free woman who was responsible for her own feelings and actions. At the same time, she felt her inhibitions slipping away. Since she had given up control to someone else, she was now free to fully experience sexual stimulation and arousal.
After a few minutes of sensual explorations, Monica’s talented tongue found Jennifer’s clitoris and began to stroke it ever so gently. She stopped after a short time and used her fingers to massage and pinch Jennifer’s plump outer labia. Returning to the hard clit, Monica again used the gentle little licks that brought her victim close to coming.
Cole noticed Jennifer’s fast breathing and dilated pupils. “Stop!” he ordered. “Use the towel now Monica.”
Monica suddenly placed a very cold wet towel on Jennifer’s overheated cunt. A sudden scream of shock and disappointment tore through the room, then died away, as Jennifer’s orgasm died before it could blossom. Cole made some more notes on his clipboard then instructed Monica to begin again.
