Copyrighted material, not for those under 18 years of age.
Amyís release from the hospital was a surreal production that humiliated her beyond her wildest expectations. True to her boast, Glen had taken her simple idea and turned it into a complex drama by adding his deft touches to what she had suggested.
It began in her room. Two of the biggest men she had ever seen, dressed in Security Section uniforms, plus two other men in SWAT uniforms, carrying AK-47 rifles, all marched in together. Amy greeted them with open arms - and legs - shackled helplessly on top of the bedding so that her entire nude body was on display. She wanted to yell for a nurse, a doctor, Glen, or anybody, but she was gagged, punishment for calling a nurse a bad name.
Ralph, the head of Security, walked in. He walked to her bedside, Looking up, he nodded. Quickly one of the men unfastened her gag and one wrist. Brutally he shoved her onto her side, facing Ralph. She was also facing Ralphís steel-hard boner, inches from her mouth. The man behind her shoved again and her lips touched the head.
While she was swallowing it down her throat, she knew Glen was behind this, knew that she was being taken back to the DB, knew that it was all a dream. The variety of possibilities whirled through her mind, leaving her doubting all of them. The only reality was the throbbing cock half way down her throat. Reality was that she was about to suck four more men before the next scene began.
Finished, they gagged her again and strapped her in a wheelchair. After all every patient leaves a hospital in a wheelchair - or a hearse. She was wheeled down the hall past patients walking the corridors. Past the nurseís station, the staff lined up to wish her farewell. Into the elevator, where hands cuddled her breasts and tweaked her nipples. Amyís complexion was rapidly changing from pink to darker and darker shades of red as her shame increased by leaps and bounds.
It was a detour, but they wheeled her very slowly through the main waiting room, making sure everyone got a good look at her. Her armed guard, bringing up the rear, motioned everyone to follow them. They crowded around as the wheelchair turned into the main entrance hall.
In the middle of the hall, glittering bright under the dozen spotlights aimed down at it, was a cage. A small cage. Really, a very small cage. The end door was invitingly open. Somehow that made it look even smaller.
Amy was unstrapped and made to stand while her heavy serving chains were locked onto her again, Getting into the cage unencumbered would be doubtful. Ralphís comment about a shoehorn was quite fitting, to coin a pun. Getting in wearing chains was close to an impossible dream.
One man held the cage, while the two biggest lifted Amy bodily into the air, folding her at the same time. They lowered her into the end, but she stuck at her hips. Acting as if it were an everyday occurrence the two, in unison picked up the cage and jerked it. Amy slid the rest of the way in, the door was closed and a padlock snapped.
At this point, the public address system came to life.
"Gentlemen, ladies, slaves. You are witnessing the incarceration of the wife of the General Manager. She is a slave and is being treated as a slave. Enjoy the show."
Amyís mouth was already open, stuffed with a gag. She couldnít believe her ears, humiliated by the words. She burst into tears and began sobbing.
A box of plastic ties was opened. Her labia rings and nipple shackles were drawn taut to the bars. Her fingers and toes were welded to the cage in various directions, each new tie further restricting her movement. When they finished, she could move her eyes, but that was all. She closed them, afraid the shame would show.
As the final cutting touch, the men lifted the cage and put it on the wheelchair, wheeling it out the front door to the applause of 50 or 60 people who had witnessed the unusual exit.
Without ceremony the cage was dumped on a flatbed truck and tied down. Signs were hung on both sides and the end of the truck, identifying Amy. Amy knew it was a short ride to the office, but the truck driver had other orders. Traveling in low gear, horn blaring every few seconds, the truck covered every street in the compound and virtually every resident and slave saw it at least once, before it pulled up at Glení office.
There was nobody there to greet her. That shamed her more than her treatment by the men. She heard the driver get out and slam his door, then silence. She waited expectantly for her cage to be moved to the pedestal she had suggested. With a sinking feeling she realized that she would simply be left on the back of the old truck. She winced as she remembered the signs that every passerby would see. Her Master had gone all out to make this a memorable low point in her life as a slave.
As soon as the sun set, she heard two men talking as they approached the truck. They grunted as they lifted some heavy objects onto the flatbed. Neither spoke to her, as they stepped up on a tire and onto the truck.
Rather than buckets, they had a deep pan, just the size of the cage. They put it in place and then she heard a pump running. A few seconds later she felt the first icy drip, followed by a dozen or more different drips that seemed to cover her whole body. A 50 pound block of ice was placed in the pan to keep the water cold.
She heard them jump down and walk away. It would be the last human sound she would hear during the night. She was unaware that a camera was close to her cage, watching for the slightest sign of trouble, which would bring help in seconds. She didnít know this and spent most of the night feeling sorry for herself. That feeling gave way toward morning to the realization that she had brought this on herself by her own actions and her punishment was richly deserved.
The hours after dawn were the worst. Cold, miserable, repentant, she shivered in her bonds, praying that Glen would come and release her. Glen instead was sitting in his warm kitchen, sipping a cup of Janeís superb coffee and eating Georginaís biscuits, while he watched Amy on the monitor.
People started coming by, early birds on the way to work. They would stop, read the signs aloud, laugh, and sometimes taunt her, before hurrying along. Her bladder was threatening to spring a leak, something she was sure was a punishable offense. She spent the better part of an hour scaring herself with thoughts of terrible torments or outright torture that she would earn if she soiled the truck.
The cramps were getting worse when help finally arrived. Not Glen, not Georgina, not Selene. From the end of the line, Sarah came out to release her. With a pair of wire cutters she cut her way through the tangle of plastic ties. Amy was wet from head to foot, but to ensure lubrication to get her out of the cramped cage, Sarah had a spray bottle of cooking oil. She doused Amy liberally, even spraying her hair and face.
Sarah hooked a chain to the truck bumper and then to Amyís hobble. She used a come along to pull the cage out from under her. It went slow enough so that Amy was able to bend and twist enough to pull free. She was breathing deeply, something her cramped quarters had inhibited.
Sarah used the chain to ease Amy down the side of the truck, then transferred it to her collar as a leash. It was a good 50 feet to the door, so Sarahís command, "Crawl" was unexpected. The Mistress held Amyís chain in one hand and a flogger in the other which she used to speed up Amyís slow pace.
The front door was open, but there was no sign of Opal. The door to the inner office was open, but again, no sign of Sara Mae.
Sarah directed Amy to the door of the back room. She knocked. In a few seconds the door opened. Sarah slapped Amy hard on the ass with the flogger, moving her forward.
"Stop!" came Masterís command. Amy stopped short, one hand in the air. She froze in position.
"Kneel Up!" Her chains clattered as she lifted upright.
For the first time she got a good look at what awaited her. Glen and the Mistresses were seated in a single line. Sarahís seat at the end of the line was empty. At a nod from Glen she dropped the chain on the floor, the links rattling against each other. She walked to her seat and sat down.
"Approach!" Amy obediently knee-walked to a spot in front of his chair, her chain dragging behind her.
"Give me your chain." Her first mistake. Frantically she reeled it in, searching for the end. She reached up and handed it to him. He stuck his foot toward her, running the chain across the arch. When it tightened, he stepped down on the chain, dragging her head forward and down.
Helpless in her chains, Amy pressed her lips to her Masterís boots, silently begging forgiveness, slave fear clouding her thinking.
"Repeat after me ĎI am a disobedient slaveí."
Amy had no choice and no reason to argue as she repeated the line.
"I deserve, expect and welcome my Masterís severest punishments."
"I beg of you your harshest treatment, your cruelest treatment, your unforgiving treatment for all my faults."
"Teach me, Master, I beg, to be a good slave, one that you will cherish and love."
"Make me pay dearly for my sins. Teach me Master, to accept and grow in my slavery."
Amy was letter perfect in her responses, repeating word for word, without a fault. This tiny cause for jubilation was lost in the flood of regrets for what she had done.
Glen was finished. He reached over and handed Amyís chain to Georgina. She pulled the chain toward her, repeating Glenís use of his foot to force her to the floor. She repeated Glenís final admonition, "Make me pay dearly for my sins. Teach me Mistress, to accept and grow in my slavery."
The chain went to Selene, then to Jane, Sara Mae and on to Opal and lastly to Sarah. Amy prepared to bow down, but instead, Sarah put her foot on Amyís neck and pushed her away. Amy, surprised, let out a sob and lay still, afraid to move.
She raised to her knees and stopped in front of him.
"As you can see, not everyone is willing to accept you in this house. If there was a vote, it would be six to one to divorce you and send you packing. Fortunately for you, slaves do not have voting rights. Unfortunately for you, the Mistress who just spurned you is your new trainer. Iím told that she has a yard-wide streak of sadism in her makeup, which if true means that you have a very rough time ahead.
"You have, at one time or another, insulted every one of these Mistresses. Especially, you have insulted your Master, cursed him, called him names and attempted to escape. I cannot be lenient with you and still be accepted by these Mistresses as their Master. You refuse to evade punishment by reason of your medical history. That is a point in your favor, but without that fact, your punishment must be as stringent as you can stand.
"Your doctors agree that you are sane, smart, and well educated. Perhaps all three are strikes against you. In any event, you have earned punishments that go well beyond what I or the Mistresses have used in the past.
"You have violated our trust, lied to us, perhaps cheated in some way. There is no way to fully win back that trust, because there will always be that nagging little doubt. You can win back most of our trust by willingly accepting and even suggesting punishments that will be appropriate. You have made a list of suggestions. I have already added to the list and as you prostrate yourself before each Mistress and beg her to add more as well, you will keep a diary and you will report each week to the doctors with a copy of your diary for a study they are making.
"One final piece of advice. Piss off any one of us, and all of us will be pissed off at you. Youíd better pray you donít slip up.
"Last. This is your chance. You can leave, any time you wish and your money will be returned to you, with interest. What is your decision?"
Amy went to her belly and kissed his boot. "I will remain as your slave, if you will have me, Master."
"Iím not at all sure that youíre as smart as the doctors think you are."
The Mistresses tittered and laughed.† The laughter had a somber undertone. Amyís face changed color from white to red and flipped back and forth.
"One other thing before we close this meeting. Janeís temporary appointment as my PA is now permanent. Amy has earned at least a year of hard time so she will not be able to perform the duties as my wife. Thank you for coming."
As they got up and left the room, Amy remained, nose to the floor, unmoving.
"What do you have to say, slave?"
"Thank you for punishing me."
" Way too late. I was going to credit you with a week for your homecoming from the hospital, but your tardiness cancels it out.† Just remember what one single name you called me cost. You can think back of the experience as practice for what is going to be on your plate. I love you, and I always will, but thank your lucky stars that I am overruling the girls. They will make up for it, at your expense. You have a strong will and you will need every bit of it to keep from drowning in the revenge this will set off. Just remember, you answer to me, and you answer to them too. Everyone in the castle can give you orders. Even brown belts like Opal and Sara Mae can make you do anything they can dream up. If I were you Iíd get my tongue limbered up, because I suspect you will be called on frequently."
"I can protect you only so much and so far. Screw up badly and I could get overruled and youíd be out, so for heavenís sake, stay out of trouble!"
"Master, I am sorry. I do not deserve as kind a Master as you have been to me. Please, when you lift your hand to strike me, or lift your voice to sentence me, remember that I deserve every blow, every punishment."
"Youíve said this several times before. Iíve said before, that I question whether I can believe you after you have broken your word again and again."
"Master, please. What can I do to satisfy you?"
"Be a slave. Think and act like a slave. Work at it. Perfect your slavery. No slave tells her Master to take a flying fuck. No slave curses her Master or calls him names. Forget you are my wife. I can remember for both of us. Your job is to be a slave. I hired you and I can fire you, but Iím not ready to take that step."
Amy laid her cheek on Glenís boot and sobs shook her frame. "Master, Iím so afraid. They will beat me, slap me, torture me. My life is already miserable. They will laugh at me, make fun of me, spit on me."
"Not if you perfect your slavery. Look at your Mistresses. They honor each other as equals, or leaders. They recognize a true slave and honor her in little ways as she works her way up the ladder. Youíve been kicked down to the bottom rung several times and each time you advance you do something stupid and fall back, or get pushed back again.
"Right now, you are very vulnerable. The girls resent the fact that you havenít been punished for the outburst that put you in the hospital. Iíve told you before, to be my wife you need to work twice as hard as a slave in order to keep things from getting out of hand. When I tell them that you lost a weekís credit by failing to thank me properly, they will appreciate my, and your position differently.
"Your new trainer is going to be a real problem for you. She was once your maid. She has been trained here and she will be Seleneís assistant, running the slave training school. As I mentioned, she is a sadist, so you are going to hurt, morning, noon and night, especially if you were snobbish toward her. Incidentally the word is out that you are going to be the training dummy for the school."
"Master, I donít believe I ever treated her badly. I think she is mad at me for verbally attacking you. She seems very loyal to you."
"She is loyal, and you may be right. You have a lot of fences to mend. One more thing. Jane is my new PA. This means she sleeps in my bed, with whatever perks go with that. You can sleep in my bed as well, but be forewarned, only as a slave and an observer. One peep out of you and you go to the dungeon. You will need Janeís permission, as well as mine. Any problems with that?"
Despite the somewhat upbeat comments from her Master, Amy was filled with a sense of foreboding. Her slave fear, finely honed and tuned to read between the lines, was setting off alarm bells, sirens and noise makers. One phrase stood out - "You will need Janeís permission..." Her brain told her, ĎNot a snowballís chance in Hell.í
The bad part was that she agreed with the assessment. Jane was a climber and she had taken advantage of the situation to consolidate her power, turning her into Amyís biggest rival. She wouldnít let Amy near Glen in any situation, let alone in his bed. She knew that Jane would be beset with temptation to put her in his bed just to humiliate her. She got a flash of Jane forcing her to clean them up, suck his come out of her pussy, lick his cock to clean it, tasting the forbidden fruit.
A second scene had her licking his cock to get him hard, then having to guide it with her bound hands into Jane and then lie with his cock rubbing against her nose until he came. If Jane made her lick him while he was fucking her... She couldnít get the images out of her head and every time she tried new ones - worse ones - cropped up to take their place. It was bad, but worse was to come. She could feel herself juicing, aroused by her humiliation. Jane would catch that, play on that and literally drown Amy in shame.
Glen was well aware of the competition and was using it judiciously to punish Amy. Humiliation was mentally painful, but didnít leave scars like a whip. It could do damage, but Glen had no intention of letting it get out of hand.
As he sat there watching her, something in his memory clicked, and he remembered the special power he seemed to have over her, that he had used several times. This would be the perfect opportunity to use it again. He had promised her he would only do it to her if she had committed a really serious offense. The present situation fit that criteria to a T.
"Kneel up. Look me in the eye."
Reluctantly she met his level gaze.
"Remember, when you had your nose in the corner and I ordered you not to feel anything, no arousal from being punished?"
"Yes, Master. I could feel nothing."
"You begged me never to use that power again. What did I promise you?"
"Master, you promised not to use it again, unless I fucked up badly."
"Wouldnít you say that you have in fact, fucked up really badly?"
Amy tried to drop her eyes, but Glenís held her captive. She stared into her future and a tear formed as she nodded. "Yes, Master." She was whispering.
"You face at least a year of punishment. Nothing that is done to you will arouse you in any way during that period. You are forbidden to climax - and there is a severe penalty for begging permission from me or anyone else. Anything that causes pain will be doubly painful."
"You still come, when I touch you."
"From now on, your Masterís touch will be like any other. It will not arouse you in any way. Thatís all."
"Thank you, Master, for punishing me."
"Go. Find your Mistress and beg punishment. Tell her what I have done to you."
Very nearly despondent, Amy felt her firm resolve crumbling. The few crumbs from his table had been cleaned away before her eyes, leaving a bleak, black hole into which she felt herself sinking. ĎA year of this? How can I possibly survive?í
Amy cried most of the way to Sarahís room. She wiped her eyes, hoping her crying wouldnít show. She went to her belly and knocked softly on the door. She waited nearly five minutes before Sarah opened the door and gazed down at her. She immediately spotted Amyís puffed face and red eyes. She swung the door wide and made a parody of a welcoming gesture. Her lips curled as she ordered, "Crawl!"
"Kneel up! Eyes down! Hands behind your neck! Spread your legs until your pussy opens! Why are you crying?"
The question caught Amy by surprise and she hesitated.
Her Mistress didnít hesitate, primed and ready for the first slip. She swung her arm, bringing her full hand against the side of Amyís face. Not a hard blow, but a noisy one. She stared, open mouthed as Amy dropped like a stone, moaning in pain.
"Kneel UP!, damn you!" Amy slowly rose into position, much too slow for Sarah. She swung the other hand and Amy again dropped to the floor in serious pain. Sarah shook her head in disbelief. She stepped to the wall and pressed the intercom button.
"Georgina, Selene, Jane, Opal, Sara Mae, please come to my room. Youíve GOT to see this!"
It took several minutes for all the Mistresses to assemble, each one staring at Amy, who lay moaning on the floor.
Sarah ordered, "Kneel up."
Amy reluctantly regained her knees, her fingers locked behind her neck.
"Too slow! Watch This."
Sarah smacked Amyís cheek. Amy bellowed her pain and again fell to the floor. The six girls looked at each other in disbelief.
"Sheís faking," said Selene.
Georgina leaned down and pinched Amyís thigh. She was blasted with a painful shriek.
Georgina looked at Sarah.
"Did you ask her about it?"
"Sheíd probably lie about it. Whatís the point of asking her?"
Georgina made a face. "As it happens, Iíve seen Master do something like this. Ask her if she has been punished by Master?"
"All right! Slave, were you just punished by Master?"
"Mistress, he ordered me not to get any arousal or satisfaction from my punishments for one year. His touch no longer will cause me to come. I am not allowed to come and I am to be punished if I beg for an orgasm. He also ordered that I will feel twice the pain of anything done to me. He ordered me to report to you, beg punishment and tell you what he has done to me."
"You lying bitch!" Sarah screamed at her, disbelief written all over her face. The other girls had similar expressions and were muttering much the same words.
"Hold it, girls," said Georgina. "Before this goes too far, Master DOES have that power over her. On at least two occasions he has ordered her not to feel anything, or not to be aroused by anything. Right in front of two doctors and other witnesses he made her forget the tortures she went through in the jail. You saw her, wondering why her left nipple was burned. Master told her when he felt she was back to reality again."
"Nobody, not even Master, has that kind of power. Itís some kind of scam." Sarah was adamant.
"If you think so, stick your fingers up her pussy. Iíll bet sheís as dry as week-old bread. And remember, this is Amy, who creamed if anyone so much as looked at her."
Sarah knelt beside Amy and tried to put three fingers in Amyís puss. She met immediate resistance. She tried again with two, then with one finger, barely able to get the nail inside. Baffled, she wriggled it, but didnít gain even half an inch. She pulled her finger out, turned it over and looked closely. There wasnít a hint of moisture. Crestfallen, Sarah admitted defeat.
"Mistress, you were correct. I apologize."
Jane had been watching like a hawk. She chimed in, "What fun is there in punishing a slave that you canít arouse, canít deny an orgasm, canít beat without half killing her?"
Georgina had a ready answer, "Itís the Masterís prerogative to punish as he sees fit. We - Iím tempted to say - get the leftovers. He decides what punishments we mete out, how severe, and the results he expects. We still have a hefty arsenal of tools we can use. Humiliation is a big one. Domination is another. She is strong willed, and could easily become a Domme. Having to live 24 hours a day subservient to other slaves is something every one of you would fight, tooth and nail. Amy will not be allowed to fight us. We can shame her, ridicule her, make a lesbian of her, dozens of things.
"She is going to be her own torture master. Master is making her list punishments she must suffer. And what does she have to look forward to after that?† Punishment for attempted escape."
"Georgina, Iím in the mood to get my pussy plumbed. Is this slave available?"
"Of course, Opal! Sarah, get a leash and see that she does an outstanding job. Anyone else...† Ah. I see, the line forms here."
A good hour later the women were sated. Amy could barely get her swollen tongue back in her mouth. Georgina polled the Mistresses.
"Good"† "Fair"† "Had better"† "All right"† "So So"† "Unsatisfactory"
Amy swallowed, her throat dry. Georgina looked at her, keeping her face calm. She turned and picked up a metal clothespin. "Stick your tongue out."
The very tip peeped out between her lips.
"All the way!"
The hidden tongue extended to full length.
"I was about to let you get by with one, but I do not repeat orders kindly. You get two!"
Amy tried to retract her tongue. Georgina patted her under the chin. The light blow rammed her teeth into the thickest part of her tongue.† She groaned with the pain.
"Leave it out."
"Yesh, Mistressh. Thank you Ďor punishhing me."
"Sarah, this slave has a speech impediment. Make sure it is cured by this time tomorrow night, when we will meet again. Iím sure she will have a list of suggestions as to the right medicine to cure her."
"Put Little Miss Frigid in a horizontal cage for the night. Tie those nipple shackles to a top bar so she wonít have to put all her weight on those sharp studs on the bottom bars. You wonít need to worry about her hands. She can frig herself all night long and never get a response."
She reached down and grasped Amyís jaw. Amy winced from the pressure. "Be thinking of ways to improve your tongue work. Any time you donít get a solid string of Ďexcellentsí you sleep in the cage. This was shameful - one Ďgoodí - A kindergarten student could do better than THAT!"
"Sarah, bring me a vibrator and some lube."
Georgina took the vibrator and squirted a liberal amount of KY jelly on it. She made Amy open her legs further. The vibrator went in slickly, sliding on the artificial lubricant. She smiled sweetly in Amyís face as she cranked the vibrator to its top speed.
"You ought to be able to chew nails after being frustrated by that thing. All itís going to do for you is keep you awake, wishing you could get aroused, praying that you could have an orgasm. Before this year is over you will sell your soul for one lousy stinking orgasm. Master told you, punishment if you beg for a forbidden climax. Go ahead, beg me. First, take the pins off and hold them up where we can see them."
Amy dropped her head. Georgina snapped at her: "Look me in the eye, Frigid!"
Amy raised her head, her eyes hopeless. "Mistress, I beg you. Intercede with Master so that I can come again."
"Try that again, with some feeling. You sound like a Zombie."
Amy repeated it, with much more feeling.
She shouted the words.
"Mistresses, here is a slave, willing to break her vows to her Master, asking us to intercede and help her break the rules. Just how hard will Sarah have to hit her to cause her to faint?"
"Thank you, Mistress, for punishing me."
Amy groaned - and fainted.
"Shit!" Sarah swore. "Bring the cage in here. Iíll keep an eye on her."
They quickly laid her in the cage and closed the lid, but didnít lock it. Amyís nipples were pulled taut, supporting at least part of her body weight, her back just grazing the studs on the bottom bars. Amy came out of her swoon and heard the Mistresses laughing. Sarah looked down into Amyís face.
"Weíll leave the lid unlocked, but if someone tries to rescue you, they will have to lift you with the lid. I hope you have a money back guarantee on those nipple shackles."† She put her hand through the bars, hooked a finger behind the shackle tie and jerked. Amy sobbed with the pain.
Glen got up from his recliner and was about to shut off the monitor just before Jane walked in. He left it on, to show her that he was carefully monitoring what they were doing with Amy.
She looked up at it as she walked toward the bed. She could plainly see the cage and Amy. She looked at Glen, sure he was watching her.
"Master, it might be entertaining for Miss Frigid to have a monitor where she can see it at night. Iím sure there are cameras in here."
"You didnít believe that I could do that, did you?"
"No, Master. I had never seen anything like that before. I couldnít believe my eyes. Are you a hypnotist?"
"Hardly. I donít know whether itís some special power I have, or a very susceptible Amy. Iíve discussed it with Dr. Steve and he wants to do a study on it. I donít know whether it works on other people, or whether other people can order Amy."
"Try me. Give me an order."
By this time he had stripped her serving chains and she was lying on the bed, secured to the four waiting chains.
Glen leaned down and slid his hand into her pussy, four fingers. She was quite wet.
Her eyes widened, but that was the only reaction.
"Amy climaxed on that order and promptly forgot the torture she had been subjected to at the jail."
Jane shook her head, believing, yet still not sure whether or not to believe that a man could have that power over a woman. He IS a Master, she thought.
Glen went around the bed, tightening the chains that held his PA rigid. He grinned down at her. "Guess weíll have to make you come the old fashioned way."
Amy was not a happy camper. The one small glimmer of feelings centered on the fact that Georgina had not reinstalled the pins on her tongue, but she had made a point of leaving them in plain sight. The cage was something else. It demanded so much attention that she had little or none left over to commiserate with herself over her lost stature.
To begin with, it was too short and two narrow. The Mistresses had to half turn her body in order to slide it down and in. A hand pushed her head down and other hands forced her feet into the opposite end. When she laid on the bottom, her head was hard against the studded top and her knees had to bend slightly to position her feet. Her knees wound up pressed between the bars, right against the studs.
Hurting from every direction, Amy lay absolutely still, knowing that movement of any part of her body would be painful. She thought they were going to pull her nipples right off the tips of her breasts, but they were big enough to reach the bar they were tied to and still support part of her weight. At the moment it seemed of little help as the studs she was lying on were already digging holes in her back.
She had watched as Jane said her "Good Nights," and walked out the door, turning right - toward Glenís room, rather than turning left to her own. Jane disappeared, then came back in. She bent down over the helpless Amy. "While youíre lying there with nothing to do, think about me in your husbandís arms. Think about me, getting fucked by that big cock. Think about me, swallowing his jism, licking his cock clean. All things you canít have."
She spat in Amyís face and walked back out. Amy sobbed with humiliation.
"Shut up!" snapped Sarah. "You wake me with your stupid crying and Iíll roll you down the stairs in that thing. No noise! Not a whimper. Just remember, you brought this on yourself."
The next day, Selene undertook the postponed tour of the Slave Training School area. She took her assistant, Sarah, and Sarah took Amy, after setting ground rules with her flogger. Amy had to walk three paces behind Sarah, keeping her leash nearly taut. Sarah warned of dire penalties if the leash touched the floor, but Sarah could drop her end at any time and Amy had to immediately prostrate herself while her two Mistresses took care of the business at hand. Amy was dressed in her heaviest set of serving chains.
When they reached the enclosed walkway, Sarah made sure to stand where she blocked Amyís limited view as Selene punched in the code to open the door. As they went along, Sarah made a point of drawing Amyís attention to the slaves on both sides, working under the whip. Dripping sweetness, she told Amy, "That could be you - should be you - the way youíve fucked up."
It was not a question, so she had no chance to answer, instead hanging her head in shame.
At the entrance, the walkway widened, joined solidly to the wall on either side. There was room between the steel walkway and the door for a hanging gibbet on each side. Selene pointed to them and made sure Amy was looking. Sarah jerked her chain and ordered: "Get up there, on your knees and kiss and lick both gibbets. One of them is going to be your home - a lot!"
Amy got a whiff of them as she approached. From the smell, the last occupants had died, or they were never cleaned out. Her tongue reported a similar message. Her stomach revolted, forcing bile up into her mouth, meeting ages old stale piss. Just looking at the gibbets, as small or smaller than the cage she had been squeezed into the previous night, fanned her claustrophobia.
The lower portion was openwork, ignoring modesty, while the upper portion where her head would be was solid metal. Sarah hurried her with the flogger, but too late to keep her from vomiting against the wall. The two Mistresses discussed in low tones whether to force Amy to lick the mess up with her tongue, deciding Glen might not be pleased with the penalty. Besides, both were anxious to see their new facility and there was no place to leave Amy. Perforce, she must follow their lead.
Inside the entrance there was an open walkway alongside a covered walkway, low to the ground. Masters, and ranking slaves could use the open walkway, but slaves in training had to crawl through the covered part. There was a slot the full length of the walk, so that the slaveís leash could be held by whomever was in charge of her, giving them better control of the slave, without any interruption. Just as with the main walkway there were gates at each end that worked by remote control. This was another of Seleneís suggestions.
Sarah led Amy through the Ďtunnelí as she dubbed it, and made her continue to crawl as they started their inspection. The main hall was lined with tiny cells, intended to display the inmate to anyone going in or out of the facility. It was the first of numerous features intended to reinforce the mind set of the slave. Obey, instantly, willingly, or suffer painful or humiliating punishment.
Amy got the full course. Selene rationalized that since Amy would be their practice dummy, she should be fully aware of the incentives built into every part of the building. She got off to a fast start as they came to the first classroom. Amy almost balked when she got her first glimpse of what awaited her. She barely hesitated, but Sarah saw in as a gross breach of discipline and slashed her with the flogger. With the ordered doubling of any pain, Amy felt like she had been flayed with a bull whip.
Still sobbing softly, she was made to stand, while a harness was fitted much too tightly around her body. Sarah told her, in a matter of fact tone, "Youíre going to be living in this harness from now on, so get used to it. Now, go sit down."
Both Sarah and Selene suspected what came next, but it was a surprise to Amy. She turned toward the seat and winced as the straps locked on her body suddenly thrust sharp points into her tender flesh. Sarah laughed, "The faster you move, the more they hurt. Just try and run with that on. Get in that seat and stop wasting our time."
"Sit down" was to be an experience. The student desks had a flat surface to write on, but most of the rest of the desk was missing. A heavy bar rose from the floor. Mounted on the tip was a small, narrow, half-moon shaped saddle seat with a massive dildo protruding from the center. It looked to Amy as if a crazed bicycle designer had dreamed up a torture seat. Wincing at every step she approached the seat, certain the dildo would never fit inside her.
"Since this is your first time, Iíll give you some lubrication. Just donít waste it!" She pressed a button on the little remote control she was carrying and a tiny fountain of oil spurted from the tip of the dildo. "Get down there and spread that around. You donít want any dry spots in your cunt."
Amy knelt and gave the mechanical monster a blow job, using her lips to grease it from top to bottom. Simple? Yes, but the chemicals in the oil were the foulest thing she had ever tasted. She tried to pull away, but Sarah had locked her leash tight, making it impossible for her to get the dildo out of her mouth. Her stomach roiled, but she was already empty. Sarah beat a light tattoo on her flanks with the flogger forcing her to complete the job.
Sitting down was a whole new ball game. Sarah gave her barely enough slack to draw her mouth away. She wanted to spit out the oil, but Sarahís hand hovered as a warning, so she could do nothing but swallow. Since there was no seat back, Amy was able to walk forward and straddle the dildo. She squatted slightly and aimed her pussy at it. Sarah "helped" by shoving down on her shoulders, forcing her down until she reached the "seat." One end of the seat pressed into her asshole, while the other pressed painfully into her abdomen, just above her clit.
Then came the restraints. Amyís wrist chain was snagged by a hook under the writing table. Her leash was locked to the post she was sitting on and her hobble chain was captured by a hook at the base of the post. She was now helpless for the duration of the class.
Amy watched as Sarah plugged a cable from her harness into a socket on the post. Selene had moved to the teacherís desk and was working with a console of dials and switches. She looked up at Amy. Sarah nodded. Selene pushed a button. Amy tried to cut the dildo in two as her muscles contracted violently.
Selene chuckled. "A little strong." She twisted a dial and pressed the button again. The result was barely tolerable.
She smiled in triumph. "Thatís what dummies are for." Sarah and Selene tried out every possible combination, making notes of the maximum current that could safely be used. Amy was caught in the middle. Any surge of electricity made her convulse and any convulsion just plain hurt, from the harness.
Then they switched to the vibrator. Amy had never been near a vibrator as strong as the one in the dildo she was impaled on. It went well beyond "industrial strength." When Selene pressed the button, everything, from the floor up shook and rattled. Amyís teeth chattered and she thought she would implode around it. She found herself wishing for the days when Glenís mere touch would send her over the top. That was a worse punishment, but not by much.
Once Selene had tried all the buttons, Amy thought her travails were over, but they were just getting a good start. Selene taught Sarah how to use the buttons, and of course each button had to be demonstrated again. Sarah made several mistakes, which as might be expected were using too much rather than too little juice. She left the vibrator on until it sounded like it was breaking loose from its fastenings. Another button squirted lubricant if the vibrator wasnít going. It had its own automatic feed to protect it from getting dry.
Just when Amy thought they were finally done, Sarah discovered a push button under a flap. She pointed it out to Selene, let her read what was printed on the flap and then opened the flap and pushed the button. Both looked expectantly at Amy.
Nothing happened for several seconds. Then Amy felt a sensation of warmth, beginning at the tip of the vibrator, gradually spreading down to the clenched sphincter muscle that was hugging the base. By the time that happened the tip felt like it had turned to molten metal. Amy moaned louder and louder, until Sarah had to distract her with the flogger. In Amyís mind the shaft slowly melted down and down, until she was clenching a white hot molten mass, that was sloshing with the slightest movement, in her colon. Amy had no recourse but to faint.
Sarah and Selene quickly unfastened her and lifted her off the dildo. They laid her on the floor and Sarah automatically locked her leash to a floor ring while Selene revived her. She had tried† the slaveís toilet first, but it was a primitive facility with only one small mirror and no medicine cabinet. In sharp contrast, the Mistresses toilet was a marvel of modern plumbing, with a big dressing table, comfortable chairs and a well stocked cabinet. She found smelling salts and returned to Amy. Waving the packet under her nose she brought her out of her faint.
The burning was gone and Amy could feel nothing, thanks to the antidote which Sarah had squirted up her ass. She had made no points with her two guardians by fainting and was promised a particularly strenuous evening back in Sarahís room.
Right now, they were ready to take a break. Selene found the Security room. Just outside the door a T-bar stood, strap waiting. Amy was bent over it, strapped down and her wrist chain and hobble were locked to the handy rings for that purpose.
When they were finished, Sarah verbally abused her. "Youíre a slave, Youíre not allowed in several places in the castle, and this is one of them. While youíre waiting, think up a suitable punishment for puking on the wall, and fainting. And, youíll need to properly thank us for spending so much time guiding and using you."
She gave Amy a vicious cut across her calves with the flogger and followed Selene into the room. Amy waited for what seemed like hours before the two women came back out. Amy suspected that she was being watched, not knowing that beside the two Mistresses, one man was in the room where they were and a man at the main Security building had a monitor linked to the camera that was broadcasting her picture. Glen was also watching, as he had been for most of the morning.
So far, Glen hadnít seen anything beyond what he had discussed with Georgina. She had carried the message back that they had a wide range of punishments they could inflict. Glen was intent on one thing - making Amy become a dutiful slave. Georgina had agreed and she had sounded out the other two Red Belts, Selene and Jane and found them agreeing, but not at all pleased that they couldnít do some of the extremely severe methods that they would like to use. However, Glen was the boss. Georgina knew that all of the Mistresses would push the envelope, but she intended to follow Glenís orders to keep Amy from suffering more than was necessary to get her back on the straight and narrow.
Georginaís assessment of Glen had changed significantly since they had moved to the castle. When she first agreed to be his slave, she had a lot of admiration for him and he seemed to be the perfect Master, at least for her.
For Amy, she hadnít been so sure. Old school, she felt, but never dared say, that Glen was treating his wife poorly. She had never faced the problems of a slave married to her Master, so she had a difficult time rationalizing Glenís treatment. She felt he was punishing the slave in her, and ignoring the wife. She had participated, accepting Glen in her body while Amy looked on in frustration.
In the intervening months, she had come to understand those problems and the difficult time that Glen had coping with them. She had watched in silence as Glen finally realized he had a problem, offering advice when asked, but carefully refraining from being overly critical. She could tell Glen had changed. There never had been a question of whether or not he loved his slave-wife. The real problem seemed to be in convincing those around him that he had changed his attitude toward her. Georgina had nearly balked when he ordered the Mistresses to take Amy in hand. She echoed Amy in feeling that Glen should be the hand that meted out punishment. However, she acknowledged that Amy had agreed to being punished by the Mistresses, because it was Glen giving the order. She was sure there would be further changes in Amy, hopefully enough change to solve Glenís problems.
Amy of course was unaware of some of the details, although Glen had told her some of what he had planned for her. All she really knew was that Glen had picked a really sadistic trainer for her. She and Selene had made up over their differences, but she was already getting bad vibrations in her brief contacts with her.
Right now, she was busy heeling Sarah, with a wary eye for the flogger, which burned like someone was extinguishing cigarettes on her flesh. Sarah had very explicit orders as to what she could, or couldnít do to Amy. She had aped the Red Belts, in wanting to do more. A big part of the controversy was based on a unanimous belief that Amy didnít deserve to be married to Glen. None of them said it, but each one had made a silent vow to make Amyís life miserable. Actually, it wasnít jealousy. They felt that Glen was being taken, and their thinking was aimed at solving that problem, rather that their personal gain.
All, that is, except Jane, who had managed an end run while Amy was in the hospital. She had a lot to lose if Amy got back in Glenís good graces, but it still gave Amy only 1 to 6 odds of getting back to Glen.
The Slave Training Facility was big, far bigger than either Selene or Sarah had expected. Amy would have agreed, but as always, nobody was interested in her opinion. Selene finally called a halt.
"We can come back tomorrow and finish up. I made a list of people weíll need so far and Iíll have to run it by Glen and the head of Security. This is going to be a humongous project!
"More work for Amy."
Sarah couldnít resist ragging on Amy at every opportunity. She snapped the leash taut and Selene and Sarah walked back to the entrance with Amy following meekly in their footsteps.
Sarah made her crawl through the tunnel and then made her kiss the gibbets again. By holding her breath Amy was able to get close enough to touch the metal with her lips. Sarah kept her on her hands and knees all the way through the enclosed walkway.
There was a large crew working near the walkway. There were about 20 men, all chained together and several Brown Belt guards. Sarah slowed to a stop. She turned to Amy. "Display yourself."
Amy didnít hesitate. She walked to the steel bars, reached up and grabbed one with her cuffed hands, and then spread her legs as wide as the hobble would allow. The whistles and cat calls and lewd remarks rose to a roar. One of the prisoners stepped toward Amy. One guard blew a whistle and the entire line of prisoners fell to the ground, sparks jumping from their chains. The other guard ran toward them, yelling, "Get her out of here!"
Sarah hastily pulled Amy away from the wall and the three of them literally ran for the exit. Selene punched the code and the gate opened, allowing them out. Neither of the two Mistresses made any comment although they expected to be bawled out when they reported to Glen.
Sarah had her story ready.
"Master, I could see where moving dozens of naked slaves back and forth through the walkway could incite the prisoners, which was exactly what happened. We can plan so that the prisoners are out of sight when weíre moving slaves. All it will take will be some communication between Security and the National Prison people."
Even though the idea was sound, Glen still felt like chewing ass, but he let them go with a warning, after reviewing the tapes.
"Donít be inciting any riots."
Amy was the first to realize that she was still wearing the harness. She didnít know how to handle that. If she brought it to their attention, it would sound like she was being critical of her Mistresses. And if it was intentional, she would rate penalties for complaining about her treatment. If she said nothing, she very likely would be whipped for not bringing it to their attention. The sharp points sticking through the leather were causing her serious pain, and she had a long walk ahead of her.
Sarah finally did notice, when she turned to ride Amy. Exasperated she demanded,† "Why didnít you tell us you were still wearing your harness? You could be arrested for stealing it."
"I have no excuse, Mistress."
"Good! Then consider it a punishment for taking so much of our time today. We donít have a key for it, so youíll have to wait until we go back tomorrow."
"Thank you, Mistress for punishing me."
Amyís heart sank. If they put her back in the cage she would have less room, and more sharp points to contend with. Sheíd already had one sleepless night, and good prospects for a second night too painful to allow her to even doze.
Selene held up her hand, stopping the other two. She took Amyís leash from Sarah and unclipped it from Amyís collar. She looked at Amy and pointed ahead. "Thereís an intersection just ahead. Run to it."
Sarah looked at Selene with her mouth open. Freeing a slave!
She caught on belatedly as Amy started running. She got about ten feet before falling to the ground, crying out in distress. She curled up in a helpless ball. Sarah pushed her, not too gently, with the toe of her boot.
Selene grabbed her collar and dragged Amy to her feet, snapping the leash back on her collar and returning it to Sarah. Selene put her nose in Amyís face. Amy was still wincing.
"Are you going to try to run away from us again?"
The two Mistresses resumed walking, laughing and joking about the effective harness. Their barefoot slave dogged their heels, humiliated by every sound the two Mistresses made. She fumed silently over Seleneís cleverness in giving her an order and then punishing her with the harness for obeying.
Sarahís room had become party headquarters. The senior Mistresses had wine, while the Brown Belts had beer. Amy of course had water. Glen had allowed them to have alcohol for the first time, even though they hadnít asked for it. None of the Mistresses realized that Glen was testing them, although Georgina did think the timing was a bit unusual. Celebration when Amy was fully trained, yes, but Amy had a long way to go.
Jane and Sarah were the two stand outs in the group, the first to uncork a bottle or pop a cap, the first to get tipsy and the first to get really drunk. Amy was caught in the middle, either totally ignored by the Mistresses or with all of them converging on her at once. Sarah staggered up to her and demanded that she produce a penalty for puking on the wall. Amy had no more than gotten the words out, "lose the use of my hands," when Sarah grabbed a length of chain and padlocked her crossed wrists to the back of her collar.
A few minutes later, all of the Mistresses except Georgina were asleep, snoring up a storm. Georgina felt her phone vibrate and answered it, Glen ordered her to chain the sleeping Mistresses where they lay and to bring Amy to his room.
Amy watched in mounting horror as Georgina looped chains around convenient ankles or wrists and locked them to the nearest ring. When she pulled Amy to her feet, she resisted, swinging her shoulders to try to break Georginaís grip. She got her face slapped for her troubles and had to meekly follow Georgina at the end of a leash.
She had to crawl into Glenís bedroom on her belly. There was no sign of him, so she kissed the waiting shackle and awkwardly climbed onto the bed. Without saying a word, Georgina turned her over so that she was lying on her arms in the center of the bed and locked her ankles at the foot of the bed. Amy felt every one of the sharp points in her harness. Georgina knelt by the bed, watching Amy as she tried to make sense of what was happening.
Glen came into the room, wearing a robe, which he dropped. He moved in front of Georgina and she took him in her mouth, completing the job of getting him fully aroused. He sat on the bed on his side, reaching back to cup one of Amyís breasts, confirming that the nipple was hard enough to bore holes with. Georgina watched his hand, wishing it was her breast that was being fondled. Glen motioned and pointed. Obediently she moved onto the bed on the other side of Amy.
Glen turned his attention to the other nipple. He motioned again to Georgina, and Amy felt her gentle fingers playing with one of her nipples. She knew she should already be aroused to the point where she would beg for an orgasm, but she didnít feel the slightest effect from their play.
As he loomed over her, his rod knocking at the gates of her pussy, he finally spoke. "For this night only, you will be fully aroused. You will beg me for an orgasm, knowing you will be punished for asking. If you are sincere, if you love me, you will come - at my command."
Amy screamed into Georginaís hand over her mouth, a cry of pure animal passion. When she could speak, she panted, "I love... you, Master. Please, Maste..."
Her plea turned into an incoherent rising wail as he drove into her, spreading her channel to accept him. Georginaís nimble fingers played with Amyís nipples, feeling life in them after days of deprivation.
Amy dared not say the word. All she could do was match each of Glenís strokes, "Please! Please! Please! Please! Please! Please! Please! Please!"
"Please, Master, let me come. You can punish me any way you choose. Just let me come, please, Master."
Glen pointed to Amyís nipples and squeezed finger and thumb. Georgina dug her nails into the erect flesh and pressed her thumb and finger together and pulled. Amy rose off the bed, arching, following her tortured nubbins into space. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead. She felt him swell inside her, felt the first spurt jetting into her and her disbelieving ears heard the word.
Amy screamed in agony, the long suppressed climax literally ripping her apart with ecstacy. She lay, eyes closed, drained.
Glen unlocked her ankles and tapped her on the shoulder.
Weakly she nodded. Georgina raised a questioning eyebrow. Glen nodded and Georgina took her to the bathroom and cleaned her up.
Washed, wiped and refreshed, Amy fully expected to be sent back to Sarah, but that was not what Glen had in mind. With Amy back on the bed and locked down, Georgina was again invited to join them and she too was put in restraints.
Glen caressed her still hard nipple as he passed sentence. "You were ordered not to beg for an orgasm. As punishment, you will wear your harness until you get back to the Slave Training Facility and get the key and your wrists will remain locked to your collar until your Mistress sees fit to release you."
Amy nodded, "Thank you Master for punishing me."
Both knew that his punishment was meaningless, as she already >was under the same sentence from Sarah.
Morning light revealed chaos in Sarahís room. The first to wake needed desperately to get to the bathroom, but there was little or no slack in the chains that imprisoned them. By the time all were awake, someone had spotted the keys hanging on a hook by the door, but inches beyond the reach of the nearest Mistress.
Jane shouted at the monitor, which suddenly changed to the feed from Glenís bedroom. There was a concerted gasp as it revealed the two lying in Glenís bed. Selene got a very uncomfortable feeling in her stomach, matched by Sarah, as they realized that they had allowed a prisoner to escape from their custody.
Georgina was waiting outside the bedroom door, listening for her cue from Glen. He touched a remote control and the camera zoomed in on his face.
"Georgina will release you one at a time to go to the bathroom. You are all in deep shit for abusing the wine and beer I provided. After breakfast we will discuss this further."
Georgina walked into camera range and unlocked Amy and walked out with her. First to the bathroom and then to Sarahís room. A very subdued Sarah hurried to the toilet and then accepted Amyís chain from Georgina.
"Whatís he going to do to us?"
"I have no idea. Heís pissed." Georgina shook her head and walked to the next one she was going to release.
Sarah rattled Amyís chain. "How did you get out of here?"
"Mistress, everybody went to sleep. Master sent Georgina to get me."
"She put me in his bed, Mistress."
"And, did he fuck you?"
Amy bent her head. She didnít like the direction the questioning was going, but she had no choice.
"Yes, Mistress. He allowed me to come, once. Then he punished me for asking."
Selene had been listening to the conversation. As Amy spoke she and Sarah exchanged glances. Amy seemed to be back in Glenís good graces, which meant they were potentially in serious trouble. Sarah wanted desperately to ask Amy what her punishment had been, but she was smart enough to realize that asking it could cause her further problems. She eyed Amy up and down, noting that she was still in the harness and her wrists were still crossed behind her neck. She gave a slight involuntary shudder, imagining how painful the reverse prayer position would hurt. She had a bleak insight into her chances of winding up bound just like Amy. Reluctantly, thinking of her own hide more than Amyís, Sarah released her wrists, but immediately cuffed them in front.
Jane had a serious problem. As Glenís PA, she had shirked her duty and had already been punished by seeing herself replaced in Glenís bed. She mentally prepared for a serious ass chewing, followed by an as yet undefined penalty for getting drunk and passing out. It was not lost on any of them that if Amy had decided to flee they would be lined up at Glenís feet begging to be punished. She could hear the whip cracking in her mind. She still didnít understand Georginaís role, but she was beginning to suspect that the whole thing was a setup to test all of the Mistresses.
After all of them had been released, Georgina packed them off to breakfast, reminding them that Glen had scheduled a meeting immediately after breakfast. She and Amy proceeded to dump all of the half empty glasses and loaded up the unopened beer and wine and carried it to a storeroom which Georgina locked. She and Amy joined the others at breakfast.
Georgina took Amy to a holding cell after breakfast and locked her in. She went back to join the other Mistresses who were kneeling with somber faces before an obviously angry Glen.
He opened with a blunt statement, "By rights, each of you, except Georgina, should be demoted to slave and sent to the DB for 30 days to be taught the meaning of your slave oaths. You have embarrassed me in more ways than you realize."
"Selene, Jane, you are Red Belts. That status is now in jeopardy because you canít hold your liquor."
The faces of both were flushed with shame as he continued, "Iím warning you, in front of the other Mistresses, your second offense will put you in the DB for an indefinite stay and you will then be sent to the slave pool for reassignment. Frankly, as Red Belts, I expected more from you."
"Sarah, your duty was to keep one slave secure and under restraint. You failed, so how can I trust you to handle many slaves?"
"Opal, Sara Mae, you two should have known better as well. I do not appreciate slaves with hangovers trying to do their jobs. All of you were given certain responsibilities for training Amy. At this point all but one of you have failed miserably. Iím going to leave all of you wondering whether you were set† up, or whether there was any need to set you up. Each of you will report to me in private for your punishment. Thatís all."
Going by rank, each Mistress entered Glenís office, crawled to his feet and placed one of them on her neck, repeating her slave oath. The meetings were brief. The Mistresses coming out had the same sour look. The two Red Belts looked at each other for sympathy as they waited, but Selene wanted no part of Janeís career climbing. Jane went in first and came out almost in tears. Selene was crying softly after her meeting. Part of every sentence was the admonition not to talk to the other Mistresses about their punishment.
That alone was enough to scare all of the Mistresses, as it smacked of DB tactics. For the next several days they kept a close eye on each other, expecting at any moment that one or more would "disappear." Each one toed the mark, exerting their best efforts to do their assigned jobs. Of them all, Sarah drew the most attention, since Amy was in her charge. The topic was not discussed, but several felt that if Sarah had been doing her job and had just put a lock on her leash, much of this wouldnít have happened.
Glen didnít want to send any of them to the DB, as at the moment he needed them in place and doing their jobs. Georgina had suggested to him that he use the implied threat of the DB to scare them, and they mutually decided that it worked very well.
Amy didnít benefit all that much, but Sarah did back off and ease up on the harassment and unwarranted punishment. Her big problem was the promise in Sarahís eyes that eventually they would "get" her. She read the same message in other eyes as well, although none of the Mistresses would come right out and say it.
Jane wound up a loser, but not as big a loss as she first thought. When she saw Amy in Glenís bed, on the monitor, she nearly collapsed, seeing her big plans go down the tube. She was mollified when Amy returned to them, but she learned a very important lesson. She seriously thought of trying to trade jobs with Selene, but, given Glenís anger, she knew that wouldnít fly, and besides she realized she simply didnít have Seleneís qualifications and experience to run the Slave Training Facility.
If the truth be known, Glen would have preferred Selene in his bed as she was a much better, and more experienced fuck. That would not happen unless Jane really screwed up.
He made no comment to her when she returned to his bed that night, nor did he bring it up again for some time. He continued to monitor Amy, following her with the nearest camera for hours at a time. Much of that time he was also doing paperwork, or making phone calls, running the day-to-day operation of the complex.
Amy was something of a mess by the time they got back to the STF. She navigated the walkway without a slave in sight. She knelt, held her breath and kissed the gibbets before entering the tunnel.
Nearly 24 hours locked in the tight harness left her with a number of nicks, several of which oozed tiny droplets of blood as the hated leather straps were released. She sighed as the last one fell away. Sarah opened her mouth to jab at her but thought better of it. Tomorrow might find Amy with a Red Belt, giving her orders and remembering every jab that she had made. "Do your job!" Glenís words thundered through her mind. Her job, as carefully outlined to her, was to train Amy to be a real, 24/7 slave.
Selene found herself with two jobs - getting the STF off the ground, and keeping Sarah from overdoing Amyís training. Sarah had the ideal sadistic bent, but she needed intensive training herself† before she could effectively apply it. She was a quick learner, but Glen was fully aware of her inexperience, which was one of the reasons why he spent so much time watching them on the monitor.
He made a note when he heard Amy sigh and Sarah ignored it. Any domme worth her salt would have used it for an entire eveningís "entertainment." At the least she should have gone back in the harness, with some judicious tightening of any "slack." It didnít make any difference if it was Amy or another slave. Sighing, which amounted to an unspoken complaint, was a luxury forbidden to slaves.
Selene and Sarah got a late start, because of the meeting with Glen and the wait while he passed sentence on each Mistress. Amy had been† anxious to get there and get out of the harness, but she also realized that she was getting some heat and dirty looks from the other Mistresses, who blamed her in part for their problems with Glen.
She followed along as they visited the next classroom. Each room had one of the tunnels so that a slave could be trapped by closing the doors at both ends. Amy had to use the tunnel, while Selene and Sarah walked beside her, holding her leash.
Once inside Amy thought she was in a typical torture chamber. Her unease didnít escape Sarah, who reminded her for the hundredth time that she was going to be the modeling dummy.
In this room there were no desks, just poles rising from the floor, with an adjustable section. Selene demonstrated by standing Amy over a pole and then sliding the upper section into her pussy until she was forced to stand on her toes.
Selene explained, for Sarahís benefit, "We will have several classes going at the same time. This room will be for the trouble makers. If we canít make them toe the line, the DB will take them off our hands, but we donít want to lose any slaves that could possibly be rehabilitated. The graduates from the DB arenít worth bothering with. They make good ditch diggers or road sweepers and thatís about all."
Two walls of the room were stone and brick. Set into the walls were small barred doors.
"The real problems go in the cells. They will learn quickly to pay attention as that is the only way out."
Sarah dragged Amy over to one of the doors, opened it and pushed Amy in. She was immediately claustrophobic and rattled the bars in a parody of a B movie. Sarah flogged her fingers, forcing her back, but there was only a couple of inches of space behind her. There was no room to sit down or lie down, a slightly milder version than the "Little Ease" cells in the DB.
Besides the posts there were ring bolts everywhere on the floor, walls and ceiling. In the back wall there were six openings about three feet off the floor. Sarah peered into one, then went back and released Amy and made her climb into one of the holes. The opening sloped sharply downward, and tapered to a near-point deep in the wall. There was barely room for Amyís hands and her head was squeezed against the rock. With the steep slope she had no purchase and could not back out. The rock seemed slippery as well, so that her body was constantly pressing her head tighter and tighter between the rocks. Amy began screaming, certain the hole was collapsing on top of her. Selene whipped her feet, that were conveniently still out in the open. Then she dragged Amy out of the hole and laced her with a quick dozen strokes of the flogger. Amy could barely gasp the words of thanks for her beating.
Surrounding each pole and in a row across the rest of the room the floor was a one meter square steel plate covered with short semi-pointed studs. The points were close enough to walk on - if you didnít tarry. Standing on the plate for a lengthy class would be an entirely different matter.
In each corner of the room there was an odd looking apparatus that caught Sarahís eye. She walked over, with Amy trailing behind and took a closer look. Her eyes widened cruelly as she realized what it was. She turned to Amy.
"Stand in the corner!† ON the blocks, you idiot!
Sarah bent down and closed the stocks around her ankles. Amy was standing on the upper edge of a triangular block of wood, several times larger than the wooden blocks she had used for self torture eons ago. The stocks prevented her from moving her feet, so she was helpless. She immediately tried to shift her weight to one foot, to give the other some rest, but she could stand it for no more than a few seconds. Sarahís flogger punished her shins. "Stop wiggling!"
Amyís arches were already aching fiercely. Each passing minute seemed to double the pain. Sarah fiddled with the stocks and discovered they could be moved. She cranked them back, forcing Amy to move her feet, until all her weight was on a point just behind the ball of her foot. Amy held position for a short time. Then her heels began to droop. Amy exclaimed and jerked her feet upward, away from contact with the hidden pinpoints under her heels. The position put added strain on her feet and ankles.
The two Mistresses watched her intently. This particular punishment was one of the ones intended for the worst of the troublemakers and both were anxious to see it in action. They talked to each other as they watched, gauging Amyís pain against her known capacity. It was immediately obvious that it was going to be quite effective, even on the callused feet of a hardened slave.
Rather than release Amy, they kept her locked in the stocks while they tried several items from one of the storage closets. Amy suffered a stun gun charge at low power, a cattle prod and several different attachments that shot varying charges of electricity through parts of her body.
By the time they were through, Amy was exhausted. Reluctantly Sarah released her, only to stake her to the floor, lying on one of the steel stud mats. Amy barely felt the studs. They left her there while they went in search of some lunch.
When they came back, with no sign of any food for Amy, Sarah started nosing through the cupboards, examining the punishment tools, whips, canes and all sorts of restraints. She came back to Sarah with a pair of boots in her hands.
"What the Hell is this?"
Selene laughed. "Here, Iíll show you."
She bent down and released Amy, leaving her sitting on the mat. She took the boots, which were joined sole to sole and inserted Amyís feet at the tops. Her feet and ankles slid easily into the boots as they were several sizes too big.
"Sarah, get that bag on the bottom shelf."
The bag was open. Selene lifted Amy into a squatting position, then tilted her legs until one boot was upright. Sarah poured the mixture of sand and gravel into the boot. There was a canvas collar attached to the top of the boot that tied just above her calf, to keep the sand from running out. Selene tipped her the other way and Sarah filled that boot as well. The two began tightening the straps on the boot, pressing the gravel into Amyís feet, ankles and legs. They continued until she was in obvious pain, then left her sitting on the mat. She tried to move off the mat, but gave it up almost immediately.
After a few minutes Sarah lifted her off the mat and set her down on the floor.
"Scoot back onto your mat!"
Amy fought back the tears as she wriggled her way back to the mat, her legs a useless dead weight. The sharp gravel in the boot was pressing her flesh and one large lump was drilling into her ankle bone. Since her legs were spread wide by the opposing boots, she was forced to drag her pussy across the floor.† She made an honest effort to return to the mat, but the two Mistresses had looked at everything and had run out of patience.
Sarah had been examining the whip cabinet and among the leather and whalebone and fiberglass she found a strap. She didnít know what to call it, but Selene had seen one early in her career.
"Thatís a Spanish strap. It was adapted years ago from a strap used to make a horse high step. It works extremely well on the human female too, so put it on Amy and letís see how she likes it."
Sarah made Amy turn and lie on her back on the mat she had barely reached. Then she had to put her legs in the air while Sarah removed her hobble chain.
Amy jabbed herself severely as she tensed her muscles to respond to a ""Stand!" order. Obediently she spread her legs and stood rigid as Sarah first fitted a very narrow belt around her waist. She left it a little loose while she looped the end of the Spanish Strap to it, then ran the strap between her legs and up to the belt in back. Sarah tightened the belt, then tightened the strap, then again the belt and one full strength jerk on the strap that brought Amy to her toes.
Amy silently cursed the cruel man who had invented this diabolical instrument of pain. She had seen only enough to realize that both the strap and the belt were actually woven horsehair, no more that a quarter of an inch wide, but capable of supporting several times her weight. It was now buried deep between her pussy lips, pressing dozens of hair ends into the sensitive surface of her clit and exquisitely tight across her ass hole and up between her ass cheeks. She was gathering her strength to scream, but the real pain hadnít even begun.
Selene tapped the back of one leg with her carriage whip. "Up. Above your waist."
Amy raised her leg, bending at the knee. Every horsehair in the strap attacked as one. She tried to yell, scream, cry and shriek at the same time.
As if nothing had happened, Sarah slapped her flogger against the back of Amyís other thigh.
"Up. Above your waist."
She had to slap Amy a second time before the leg slowly rose until the knee was slightly above her waist. She sobbed. The slow movement had seemingly driven the strap deeper and deeper into her defenseless pussy and set up a violent itch where it crossed the other hole.
She opened her mouth to beg for mercy, but Sarah slapped her face before she could speak. "Ask for mercy, and you run in place for five minutes. Want to try for 10?"
"If it pleases Mistress. Thank you for punishing me."
Sarah grumbled, thwarted in her original plan. She still had lots of room to make Amy hurt. "Weíre ready to leave. You are going to high step to the tunnel and then you will crawl through and on through the walkway. If you make it that far without collapsing, I will remove the strap. If, as I expect, you canít make it through the walkway, then we will spend tomorrow training you to high step, without all the histrionics."
Amy didnít need a dictionary to translate "training" as being on the wrong end of a whip, a cattle prod, a cane, or any of the above. She was already tired from a long day spent in pain as one device after another was tried on her. She gathered what strength she had and prepared to suffer.
She got that right, at least. She suffered. Every lifted leg tightened and pulled the strap, sawing between her legs until she was sure she was bleeding profusely. It was less that fifty feet to the beginning of the walk. Crawling through the tunnel brought a whole new set of nerve endings into direct and painful contact with the strap. She made it out through the walkway, but was indeed close to collapse when she reached the end. Sarah made her stand. She unhooked the strap and hung it on a hook on the end of the walkway. Amy waited for her to remove the belt, by now buried and nearly out of sight, but marked by a vivid red line across her belly and back.
Sarah picked up her leash and taunted her, "I said Iíd remove the strap. I didnít mention the belt, which stays on until tonight, when you have satisfied all the Mistresses."
Amy followed the leash, once again the butt of a cruel joke. The belt, relieved of the taut pressure of the strap, decided to do some torture of its own. With the overpowering pain of the strap gone, the belt made itself known in a thousand stiff ends jabbing her in response to her slightest movement. Amy quickly discovered that breathing hurt. She shifted to shallow panting, which was a mistake as both Mistresses thought she was getting aroused by the pain and spent the rest of the journey walking Amy backward in front of them, their hands holding her chain inches from her collar as they repeatedly questioned her and felt her dry pussy several times. Amy wasnít about to tell them how much that cursed belt hurt, knowing it would become an instant favorite for her tormentors.
Not too surprisingly, both Selene and Sarah were called on the carpet as soon as they got back. As they knelt before Glen he roundly chewed ass.
"I told you not to go overboard. Yet, you spent the day testing restraints on Amy and then used a Spanish Strap on her. Have either of you ever worn a Spanish Strap? Sarah, I know you havenít because theyíve been off the market for four or five decades. Selene?"
"No, Master. I hadnít even heard of them until today. There is a card with the information in the whip cupboard."
"Sarah, when Iím finished with you two, you will go back and remove the belt. You can continue as planned to have Amy satisfy the Mistresses. You two will leave early and Selene will put the belt on you for the walk back to the STF. You will recover the strap and Selene will install it, at least as tight as you did to Amy and then you will high step back to the Executive Wing. Failure to complete the course means you try again tomorrow night, with all of the Mistresses watching."
"Selene, I am disappointed in you. You are not showing your true leadership qualities. I will withhold punishment until I see whether you can carry out my orders."
Amy did her part, working her tongue at top speed, sending Selene and Sarah on their way. If Amy had known of Sarahís punishment she would have smiled, but she was denied that pleasure. By the time she got everyone satisfied, she realized that her tongue skills were improving. Only one "Excellent" so far, but that was better than the first night.
Amy was surprised when the Mistresses discovered that she had suffered the Spanish Strap. They made her lie on Sarahís bed, exposing the fiery red groove bisecting her. They brought ointment and quickly soothed much of the pain. The redness would remain for several days and her presently useless clit would be untouchable for several more days. As they talked among themselves, Amy realized that she had been the victim of a near-antique torture instrument. Georgina was the only one who knew anything about it and she indicated that she herself had suffered similar wounding from an overzealous Master.
Any sympathy evaporated when it came time to stuff Amy back in her cage. Without the harness she quickly found remembered studs and steeled herself for another sleepless, moveless night.
It was late when Selene and Sarah came back to their rooms. Amy heard them, wondered what time it was and then concentrated again on willing her body as stiff as a rock. Her mind raced. She suddenly wondered where the two had gone. She had a premonition that it somehow concerned her, but she would not know until someone told her.
It took almost two weeks before Amyís tongue rated an "Excellent" score from everyone. She would have achieved her goal several days earlier, but Jane refused to give her a score higher than "good." She was finally shouted down by the other Mistresses, as before not because of sympathy but to get on with other aspects of her training.† As it was Amy was close to being a walking zombie, the result of a succession of sleepless, or near sleepless nights.
Because of their rivalry, Jane took a personal interest in Amyís training, making frequent suggestions to Sarah when the others werenít around that would make Amyís life more miserable. Sarah was still too new to realize what was happening, giving in to Jane because she was a Red Belt. Amy, as the direct target was well aware of her persecution and Glen was keeping a very close eye on Jane ever since the spitting incident.
Amy was in a spot, and Jane knew it and took advantage of it. Jane was careful to cover her tracks, leaving Amy with little to complain about that wasnít technically part of her training. She was well aware that Amy didnít dare complain to any of the Mistresses, let alone Glen. He watched, and waited, counting Janeís little games. He was growing dissatisfied with her anyway, and Jane was too busy with her own plans to realize that Glen was drifting away from her.
Selene reported to Glen that everything was in readiness. She asked for a dozen slaves to use as trainers, and gave them a three day training course. She and Sarah and Amy showed them where things were stored, where everything went and Amy demonstrated virtually every restraint in the place. When they were finished, Amy passed out brown belts to each of the slaves as Selene addressed them.
"If you think all slaves are the same, think again. Most are voluntary. Some of them are in it strictly for the money, some because they like being on the wrong end of a whip. A few that you will come in contact with either have been abducted off the street, or sentenced to slavery. If youíve been to the Mall, youíve seen the slave demonstrating the steel restraints. She is the managerís wife, sentenced to a year of slavery. She is very likely to be sent here by her husband for training.
"Most of your trainees will be sent here as punishment. Our job is to ensure that they really are being punished, and that they go out of here with a grim resolve never to darken our door again. We will use a system of collar colors to identify each trainee so that you can see at a glance."
"Black will designate punishment."
"Red will be escape artists and runaways."
"Blue will be the whiners and complainers."
"Green will be the novice and new slave."
"Purple will be volunteers."
"If you are unsure how to treat any of the trainees, talk to Sarah or to me and we will recommend ways to train her. One thing you will need to instill in every incoming slave is that they can change collar colors in an instant. The slightest infraction of the rules can have disastrous consequences for the slave, regardless of her color."
"The STF is starting day one with some of the most advanced equipment available anywhere in the world. We have drawn from museums, commercial firms, private collections, interrogation rooms, from the Discipline Barracks and even from the National Prison.† We also have very experienced people on staff who can design gear as we need it. Sarah and I know how to use the equipment and we will be teaching each of you individually as we go along. If you run into a problem, ask, and we either have a gadget, or can get one made in a matter of hours. The General Manager has given the STF the highest priority. Some of you have already felt that power, pulled off of other jobs to help us. Once youíve had a chance to settle in, Iím sure youíll appreciate the move."