The Whip Master
By
Breanna Hayse
©2015 by Blushing Books® and Breanna Hayse
All rights reserved.
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Hayse, Breanna
The Whip Master
eBook ISBN: 978-1-62750-727-1
Cover Design by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Table of Contents:
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
About Breanna Hayse
Ebook Offer
Blushing Books Newsletter
About Blushing Books
Prologue
Graye Manor bustled with a frenzy of activity—its rolling, manicured grounds echoed with the sharp sounds of a whip striking human flesh. Shrill cries filled with both pain and pleasure followed, bringing excited smiles and eager anticipation to the faces and hearts of the listeners. The time of the Festival had finally arrived and, with it, the final magnificent display of skills, beauty, and selfless service that would end at the auction block. Guests would be arriving from all over the globe to be served, and entertained, by the staff of this unique establishment. The outside world knew nothing about its purpose, or the real history behind the cold stone walls, and Dorian Graye intended it to remain that way. Things happened in the Manor—things that the real world would never embrace…
Chapter One
"Master? The Nigerian prince has arrived," called a female voice from the doorway.
Dorian glanced up from his jigsaw puzzle and smiled. "Wonderful! See that he and his entourage are settled in and fed. I will greet him after I am done here."
"Shall I send for the photographer?"
"Yes, please. Oh, and One?"
"Yes, Master?"
"Meet me in the playroom after you complete your chores. I wish to reward you."
"Thank you, Master!"
Dorian chuckled as the buxom redhead dressed in the Manor's high livery scurried away. She was his prize. His perfect possession. She was the one that he shared with no other. The First of all his collection—his beloved wife.
Crossing his arms and tapping his chin, he returned his attention to the puzzle.
"Five? Place your right leg higher over Ten's head. Higher… that's a good girl. Hold your position. Perfect!"
The contorted sculpture of flesh wavered before his eyes. They embraced one another in their beautiful, naked glory—their bodies twisted and turned in an almost inhuman composition that was nothing less than a remarkable piece of art. Of his fifty students, there were a unique handful that showed remarkable flexibility and balance, and would be presented as the centerpiece for his guests' enjoyment during the ball. These had also been trained in the art of sexual pleasure, and would be auctioned off at unimaginable amounts to Masters and Mistresses who lived and breathed for the strange and unusual.
Photographs were taken from every angle and would be placed in closed envelopes under the plates belonging to those particular guests. Priding himself on obtaining, and training, the largest selection of 'domestic help' known in the modern world, Dorian ensured that no client would be left unsatisfied—nor would any submissive be left without a Master. He was selective as to whom would be permitted to bid on any of his girls, and took every possible step to ensure a fulfilling and satisfactory coupling. He had staffed the Manor with professional handlers; psychologists, scholars, musicians, athletes and artists—all based on the needs of clients and the abilities of the selected women. Geishas and courtesans were flown in to teach exotic arts, a physician was available round the clock to ensure health and physical wellness, and he had even extended the amenities to include a stable, petting zoo, and advanced education for the intellectually inclined. He had a fully staffed legal team, public relations and networking group, and security that extended beyond the walls of the facility to protect his girls, his clients, and his reputation. There was no limit on provisions, human or otherwise, offered to qualified owners, including a lifelong guarantee of retraining and availability of learning new skillsets to Master and slave alike.
Yes, Graye Manor was an entity of fulfillment unto itself, and had expanded to such proportions that Dorian offered training and placement to forty-nine qualified women, whom he affectionately referred to as 'his little maids'.
Cup of mint tea in hand, Dorian ventured from his private wing and into the dorms to silently observe the excited preparations of the graduates. It had been a difficult journey for most of them, even under the supervision of a kind, but strict and demanding Master. Each greeted him with a loving smile and a hug, for he did not demand protocol be practiced when he entered their world. Many dipped before him out of both habit and respect, and several eyes misted at the realization that their time with the beloved Whip Master was coming to a close.
"Fifty?" He beckoned to a short, curvy brunette. "How is your foot feeling?"
"Much better, Master Dorian. See? No more swelling." She happily displayed her ankle to him. He chuckled at the title that only Fifty dared apply to him—using his first name after his title. He had allowed it because of her special circumstance.
"And your bottom?"
That question always demanded action, no matter where it was asked. The young woman blushed and turned her back to him. She lowered herself to her knees, lifted her dress to her waist to reveal sheer, white panties, and placed her forehead on the ground. Several faded welts were easily visible through the gossamer fabric; the remnants from the strapping he had administered to her bare bottom several days prior.
"I assume you learned your lesson not to overindulge on wine again?"
"Yes, sir."
He patted the tender flesh and affectionately ran his hand over the smooth mounds. With a sharp smack, he dismissed her and continued down the hall.
Fifty had become a favorite of his over the past three years. She'd come to him at the age of nineteen and called herself Annie—an insecure and frightened child with no family, friends or future. At first glance, he saw nothing unique—but he had been in the business long enough to know that there was more to people than a first impression. She'd begged for the opportunity to serve, even willing to work in the kitchens and be unseen and unheard, if he would only give her a chance to start a life for herself after being estranged from her family. Something in her eyes had forced him to abandon his rule of only accepting girls aged twenty-one and older; perhaps the knowledge that if he didn't step in for her, she risked serious harm in her desperation to fit in somewhere. He finally agreed that she could assist him in his office, as a ward. It did not take long for him to discover her aptitude for remembering details, and she was granted placement
as his personal assistant—and a number. She became his fiftieth maid. He would miss her terribly, but he knew she deserved to be with a Master to call her own.
It was impossible for him not to love each of his special students, just as it was impossible for them not to love him in return. One would tease him about his 'daughters' when he confided in her during their alone time. Only she knew the weight of his heart's burdens when it came to his extended family.
"What are you thinking about so seriously that you walked past a room of naked woman without a glance?"
Dorian turned to the voice belonging to his Master at Arms, Elias. "Did I now?"
The tall, husky man nodded, accompanying his boss as he continued down the corridor. "You did. You seem to be in a daze. Wanna talk?"
"You know how the graduation festival both excites and saddens me. This year is our largest so far, and the maids were extraordinary."
"But?"
"But I am going to miss a few of them. One in particular."
"Fifty?"
"Yes, Fifty. She is different than the others. More innocent, perhaps. I don't want that childlike trust ever to be taken from her, but I have no way to predict what her future Master will be like."
"Have you considered keeping her for yourself?"
"You know that's against policy."
"Dorian, you make the policies. Remember? That means you can make exceptions. Since we started this venture, you have thought of nothing but the best for your girls and their future owners. You know that One loves Fifty. Perhaps purchase the girl for her?"
"I honestly don't believe that One would be comfortable with that. Both of us have other playmates, as you know, but neither brings a third into the marriage bed. That was a promise I made to her when she accepted my proposal."
"Have you discussed any of this with her?"
"No," Dorian said with a shake of his head. "It is not a can of worms I wish to bring up. Fifty needs not just service, but love. I want to find her a husband, not just a Master."
"Very well, then. Let's find that girl the best of both."
"How about you?" Dorian asked with a raised eyebrow. "Have any of the ladies sparked your interest this year?"
Elliott laughed. "You know that they are missing an important part that is needed to hold my interest for any amount of time."
"We could get a strap on," Dorian said, and chuckled. "But yes, I understand. Come on, my friend. We have a festival to prepare for."
The two men entered the foyer that led towards the Great Hall and the Manor's ballroom. It would be there that the festival was held in all of its glory. The room was alive with activity as the performers practiced their various skills. Free hanging suspension rods and long dance ribbons dangled from the high, mirrored ceiling; mounting platforms in different shapes and sizes were placed meticulously around the room to display beautiful, willing bodies; long tables with 'slave inserts' graced the center of the room, and a long, elegant stockade equipped to restrain ten slaves sat at the forefront of the stage. The workers greeted the two enthusiastically, eager to show how this year's festival would dim any of those held in the past.
The theme this year was 'Cirque de Sade' and all were invited to attend and enjoy. Previous clients were encouraged to bring their submissives and allow them an evening of service to the festival in either service or performance; the staff was welcome to either serve, or be served; and the newcomers to the event were urged to feast upon the delicacies of both food and flesh that would be offered. It was to be an evening of pure decadence and hedonistic delight.
"Mr. Graye! Oh, please, sir. Come see what I've done for you!"
Dorian patted his friend's shoulder in departure and walked over to the excited technician clad in bibbed overalls with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. "Don't you wish to surprise me, Marilyn?"
"You will be surprised, I promise. But I do want to show you one thing," she giggled, grabbing his hand and dragging him to her masterpiece. She was the Manor's engineer, a prize he had uncovered during a trip that he and One had taken to Disneyworld several years before. The skills, and confidence, of the brilliant little architect-turned-engineer had been swallowed alive by the men she worked with, and Dorian had intervened when he saw one of her coworkers publically humiliating her. The man had not appreciated the interruption, having delighted in the belittlement of the tiny Asian girl, and swung a fist at Dorian's face. Within minutes, the man was on the ground with a fractured wrist, and little Marilyn Lambert was being safely escorted to her new position at Graye Manor, where she would be allowed to create whatever her heart desired. She had yet to disappoint him.
"What do you have for me, darling? A pedestal table?" He eyed the large, clear acrylic platform that was supported by a thick, round base.
"Only to the innocent eye," Marilyn said, holding up a small box. "Watch."
The large round surface began to turn clockwise. "For the innocent bystanders, this baby can hold plenty of finger-foods ready for the plucking. For the not-so-innocents…"
Dorian's mouth fell open in undisguised awe as the base extended upward and five platforms slid out from beneath the table top. Each one was shaped like a long triangle, complete with full extension restraints.
"Each body will be joined together by the wrist underneath the primary platform, and can face to either the front or the back. The legs are supported by footholds and spread apart to join ankle to ankle and give either frontal or back access. We can even adjust the angle of the 'serving' to accommodate the guests, including bending them in half. We can have the table top rotate in sections and lift towards the ceiling, and make the bodies completely vertical. See? They line up with the table's base and it becomes a giant whipping pole! If I make them more horizontal," she said, hitting another switch, "then they are in perfect position for either genital or oral sex, and maybe even fire and electric play. Finally, by releasing the ankle restraints, each body can be positioned individually so that the appetizers are served both horizontally and vertically."
"Amazing," Dorian whispered. "So the guests can have access to pussy and ass, depending on what they want?"
"Yes, sir! Everything adjusts as a separate unit so that we can make it as functional or artistic as we desire. I'm not done…" The underside and edges of the tabletop and supporting platforms began to glow with an ethereal, pulsing light and then the entire structure began to rotate like a human carousel. "It's plexiglass, so all the lighting comes from inside the device. We can also change the color for mood, have it pulse to music, mimic laser play, or simply twinkle. Ready? The platform separates and lowers between the human displays to act as a tray to hold actual food or toys. It can rotate or stay stationary, too. Well?"
"You've designed a rotating, human buffet table." Dorian shook his head in awe. "Marilyn, you are simply remarkable. I'm keeping you."
"Thank you, Master Graye." The woman blushed prettily. "I have something else for you."
"Young lady, you are too good to me," he said, kissing her temple. "What is it?"
"I modified the suspensions. If you look carefully, you can see I put the unit on tracks so it can roam around the room and even change elevation. There is even a safety switch hooked up in case one of the models is in trouble. It's a simple electronic monitor that records her vital signs and also vocal cues. You wanted a Cirque de Sade, right?"
"Remind me to give you a raise, my dear. You are tiny, but worth well over a hundred times your weight in gold. Actually, you are worth my weight in gold. What are you? Eighty pounds?"
Marilyn hugged him warmly. "I'm not that small. It's me who owes you. You saved me by giving me a chance to live my dream, and the perfect environment to work in and explore my imagination. Thank you."
"Oh, come on. Surely there is something you would like as a reward?"
Marilyn blushed and shrugged. "It's embarrassing, but, well…"
"Out with it. Tell me your desire. I make wishes come true, you know."
"I would like to try playing one day. Maybe experience a mild version of some of these things I design for. I also want to try… I've never had, you know…"
"Marilyn? Are you a virgin?" Dorian asked gently. Her blush and aversion of eye contact answered his question. He hugged her tightly. "Your wish is my command. Do you have anyone in mind with whom you would like to play?"
"I only trust two people for this, but it's not appropriate, and—"
"Me and One?"
The woman looked at the ground, visibly shrinking. Dorian snatched her hands and kissed her palms. "Your wish is my command. I would be honored to introduce you to this lifestyle. Do you have any particular fantasy?"
"Sort of. I've never really thought it out. This is embarrassing."
"No need for embarrassment, my dear girl. This is what I live for, and you know it. Are you going to tell me your deepest desires, or are you going to have me to surprise you?"
"You would do that? I don't want to cause any problems with One. I love her."
"One is very understanding and very giving. I'm certain she would be thrilled to be part of making your fantasy become a reality. How far do you want to go?"
"I don't know. I guess as far as you can take me."
"I am honored. We will begin slowly and allow you to bloom. It is the least I can do for all you have given me."
"Thank you, Mr. Graye," Marilyn whispered. "Still wanna keep me?"
"Forever and ever." He hugged her tightly, musing as to how tiny she felt in his arms.
A smile kept creeping up to his lips as he ventured into the 'forbidden zone' of the Manor. This was the one place that absolutely no-one, not even the Head Master and owner of the establishment himself, was allowed to venture without invitation. Someone lacking the bravery to confess to the deed had anonymously hung a sign upon the doorway:
Beware Ye who Enter
The Whip Master Page 1
