Views: 537 · Added: 903 days ago
Desde muy pequeña me han llamado la atencion las nalgadas.
De niña nunca recibi una.
Conoci por esta pagina a una persona y comenzamos a hablar y el me preguntaba sobre el tema, si alguna vez habia recibido unos azotes, yo lo unico que le decia es que me queria recibirlas.
Hasta que sucedio.
Me la aplico mi entrenador de que aparte es un amigo de muchos años y que me conoce muy bien.
Me coloco sobre sus rodillas y comenzo a darme un largo sermon, al principio no me movia, pero despues de unas cantas nalgadas sobre mis pantalones, me los bajo y ahi fue cuando comence a mover mis piernas y a tratar de taparme con la mano, pero el al tener mas fuerza que yo, me trabo las piernas con su pierna y me sujeto la mano en la espalda con la mano suyo, estab totalmente indefensa.
Despues de haberme azotado durante 20 minutos , me solto me puso de pie frente a él y me dijo que si mi comportamiento no cambiaba iba a recibir muchos azotes mas.
Por supuesto que desde ese dia no me porte nunac mas BIen jaja.
Gracias por dar un lugar para que podamos compartir y expresar lo que nos gusta
1 comments ·
Views: 1102 · Added: 903 days ago
Have you ever obeyed because someone if you don't obey your spanking will be 10 times worse ? Well I obeyed and submitted and it was like 30 times worse:( sometimes I wonder why ?
Views: 2872 · Added: 903 days ago
a punishment for me....
this is the punishment that i riceved today....it was hard but i full earned it....
You will repeat this spanking every other day for a week and hopefully this will help to improve your naughty behavior and your bad attitude. But first we are going to wash your mouth out with soap, you will only have to do this once, but a nice way to start any harsh punishment off I feel.
You will take two tablespoons of liquid dish soap and place them on your tongue and keep them there for 5 minutes no spitting it out before the time is done, then you may rinse a couple of times.
Now I want you to go into the bathroom and remove everything from the waist down and wet a washcloth and then soak your bottom with it. You will take the plastic brush and smack your bottom check 10 times each check that is 10 times. Then re wet the cloth and repeat until you have reached 100 swats per check.
Now you will take the plastic brush and smack your bottom check 100 times each making sure to pay close attention to your sit spot.
Next you will go kneel in the corner with your hands at your sides for 10 minutes no rubbing or touching your bottom, if you do you will get penalty smacks. You will have to take the paddle after your spanking is finished and paddle your bottom 10 times for every time you rub your bottom is that clear?
Now I want you to take the belt and spank your naughty bottom for 6 minutes without stopping and make sure you are also smacking your thighs as well during this six minute time period.
Next corner time again for another 5 minutes.
Again you will come out of the corner and take the paddle and smack your bottom 150 times and now you will smack your thighs 50 times each thigh.
Finally you will take a penny or something close to that in your currency and place it on the wall. You will kneel on the floor and hold the penny with your nose again your hands at your sides and hold the penny there for 10 minutes. Again no rubbing or touching. If you drop the penny you will give yourself 20 smacks with the paddle for each time your drop the penny. Make sure you pick the penny back up and place it back on the wall.
Once you have finished with your corner time and done the penalty smacks you may get dressed and then report your punishment on here to me. Remember you will do this every other day for a week starting today!
[color=blue]report of punishment that I write for miss..[/color]
ouch... i finish my punishment...it was terribly hard... the sensation on the brush on the wet bottom sting as hell.... still have the taste of soap.. what a hard way to punish a girl....i hate it...
I give me the stroke and the punishment as you ordered me miss.. sometimes I would to stop but a voice in my head say me that is what I erned with my stupid attitude and I must take my punishment.... after the 100 of brush my botttom is quite red ...i give me the belt with a mirror behind so I can se better and administer the stokes with the right force and the last minutes in diaper position to hit better the thigs...during the paddle my bottom hurt as hell and was terribly red.... and the pain icrease stroke by stroke....and was terribly to apply the 80 supplementary strkes... yes 80...
the corners time is very very looooooong... i don't like it and so for that I earned a lot of penality strokes....50 for the penny and 30 to moove until the corner time.... during the corner time to not leave position I think that you are behind me and see all that I doing.. and I immagine what a hard punishment wait me if i leave the position or touch my bottom... after each spanking session I applied a lotion on my bottom to prevent marks.... hope is not a problem.... I worried for the other days of the week.. my bottom is stil hurt on this chair but the spanking is appost to hurt .. are you agree??
thanks for the lesson that you touch me... I will reort you the next punishment...... i'm grateful with you...
your nauthy libertins
4 comments ·
Views: 862 · Added: 904 days ago
U know those times when it's best not to laugh but u can't help it and laugh and get into more trouble lol well I tend to not listen to those times cuz I tend to laugh at everything that being said my dad is mad at me for laughing in the middle of him yelling at me for getting sick and missed the trash bin lol
I couldn't help it he said "I never met someone who can't aim"
Like I'm shooting hoops or something lol
7 comments ·
Views: 1984 · Added: 904 days ago
A whole week of being good In bed each night by ten. Delivered the 550 lines with thanks! Not even one stripe this weekend. How good is that?
6 comments ·
Views: 1787 · Added: 904 days ago
Next saturday there is Sunderland vs. Arsenal in the premier league.
Let's play a spanking game: I am a fan of Arsenal, you go for Sunderland.
If my boys loose or do nasty things, my butt must feel pain for them, and vice versa! A goal for Sunderland means 15 with the can on my bare ass. A yellow card for a boy of my team means 20 with the belt on shorts, a red card 50 with the belt on the bare bottom.
Lets enjoy the game: It will definitely hurt!
Any other matches welcome!
Views: 1644 · Added: 905 days ago
Just one of those days where I feel like pushing my limits as far as I can , or just plain out being lazy when I know I have school stuff to do , why do school stuff when I can find something better to do like hang out with friends after all today is Sunday right? I am going to be a brat tonight !
Views: 1792 · Added: 905 days ago
Just leaving New York I had such A great time with LaLa, Hitz and Tygrr. Vids will be posted soon as I get back to Ohio... As far as my experience with Hitz he definitely lives up to his name I think that is the worst ass whoopin experience I have ever had in my life He know how to lay down a REAL ASS WHOOPIN..
5 comments ·
Views: 2616 · Added: 905 days ago
I'm going to a superbowl party tonight. Yuck, I hate football. But I'll go and be social...be a good girl. I don't want to be a good girl. I want to throw a huge tantrum about going and get a good spanking for it and then go all sore and contrite...No one to throw a tantrum to though...So I'll be good tonight.
Views: 1791 · Added: 905 days ago
It is not uncommon for someone like me to receive a spanking 5 or 6 times a week. I have the tendency to talk my way into a quick over the knee spanking. It is in my truest nature to sleep my way into a spanking...not getting up when told and finding any excuse to get back under the covers. I never try to talk my way out of spanking, however. Even I know that is fruitless. But I will confess, sometimes I seek a spanking out; sometimes I crave the palm of Daddy's hand on my bare backside. These are all naughty things, but they are also somewhat minor, right? I'm not being dishonest or throwing a tantrum. In most cases, I'm being me, just a little unfiltered and, yeah, lazy. I push the limits from time to time. Not saying I am proud or condone any such behavior, writing it down is making me realize I should step it up a notch. ...In any case, lately things have been a little more serious. And I am in trouble.I am having a hard time staying positive. I was dishonest at work. I had too many drinks last weekend. I am allowing my work load to slip beyond my grasp and ignoring important things in my life and therefore my daddy had to put aside his time to help me. I have been pouting because of these mishaps and therefore perpetuating the behavior causing a large amount of stress to build up. And the worst part is, it's affecting the one person who is trying to help me and make me better.I have been disciplined for my bad behavior, some of the hardest licks to date, and yet I have thrown tantrums since, sulked and acted like a snobby, bratty little girl. Someone I do not want to be. The fact that he has not touched or comforted me after some of these more recent punishments proves that this is seriously hot water. The little pat or extended caress after a bare bottom spanking is important to me, it allows me to breathe normally again. And the fact that I have not been getting that lately is very scary. It almost hurts worse than the spanking itself. I am not a bad girl at heart. I have done bad-girl things and have gone most of my life without getting the good bare bottom spankings that I should have gotten long ago. I have made much progress since my daddy has taken me under is hand. But there is regression.As of now I am on a tight leash: I am grounded from games on my phone, my favorite websites (unless I am writing), and I am not allowed to go out and socialize until further notice. It is difficult but I know it is for the best; these are things that waste my time and energy and distract me from what is really important, my daddy is doing what is best for me, despite my bad behavior. I am so thankful he hasn't given up. And, so, the bottom line is: I need my daddy to help me be the girl girl I want and need to be. It's not an easy thing to admit, for some reason. But it's the truth.
8 comments ·
Views: 1053 · Added: 905 days ago
The stories I am now posting are in the Michael Irons universe. As such, when I post them, I will be putting MI, for Michael Irons, before the title so you, the readers, can differentiate these works from my other ones. Moreover, because of how the spankingtube blog works, the stories are being posted in reverse chronological order. Meaning, the last ones first toward the beginning. Finally, there are gaps in the universe; meaning, stories I have not yet written. I've been writing them, off and on, for years. Do please, despite the trolls, enjoy them.
0 comments ·
Views: 1204 · Added: 905 days ago
Claire’s eyes widened with astonished disbelief. “Did you say I could assemble a Toy-Chest,” she repeated.
Viviane smiled and nodded but quickly admonished; “You need to learn proper etiquette or I’ll have you Disciplined for publicly embarrassing our owner.”
“I’m sorry Ma’am,” the eighteen year-old replied contritely.
“Noted but you needn’t be so upset. Miss herself, gives very little credence towards such things. It’s her most endearing quality but it can be frustrating as well. When we first…met, I really didn’t care but, as I’ve grown to love her, such ‘trivialities,’ as she terms them, have become very important. She’s done so much for me and I’ve increasingly come to resent slights on her behalf. An attitude, I admit, she scolds me for during our triennial sessions but generally she’s more amused by it than anything else.”
Nodding thoughtfully, Claire selected a somber dark brown teak chest with a scholarly decorative motif. Opening it, she was pleased to find a sky-blue interior that matched her eyes. Stepping inside, she discovered that even with her nude body, there was considerable space left over. Stepping out, she inquired, “Is there anything specific Miss likes?”
“That’s not how it works. You’ve been awarded the right to make your own decisions, initially, regarding toys and outfits. That’s why being given the opportunity to assemble a Toy-Chest is so important. With a single glance, it helps a prospective owner determine an volunteer’s desires and character. ”
“If Miss hasn’t seen my completed Toy-Chest or my slave essay, then why do you think she’ll like me,” the teenager asked softly as she gently fingered a collection of wooden paddles.
“Fair question,” Viviane acknowledged from her perch upon the couch. “It’s always a risk when purchasing a Toy-Chest as a present for someone else. However, both the recipient and the volunteer can request a gift return within the first year and seven days if the two are deemed incompatible but I don’t think it’ll happen with you.”
“Because I made a point of reading every volunteering slave essay issued this year. In every salient point, your personality resonates with Miss. Moreover, you want an older, experienced woman as your owner. That’s not a very common request for your age bracket but it proves that there’re just enough kinks within your character that a healthy relationship can form between you. It certainly helps that your dreams and career goals are the sort that will snag her interest. She’ll want to help. Hell, she’ll insist and in the process she’ll get out more.”
Catching Claire’s glance, the older woman smiled briefly before clarifying. “Miss, well, even she admits that she’s a hairsbreadth away from being an shut-in. Frankly, that’s why she purchased me in the first place but now,” patting her visibly pregnant belly sheaved in white silk “there’s someone else who’ll need me more. Which is why acquiring someone like you was so important. It would be unconscionable, after all Miss has done, for her to feel isolated. I made that mistake as I established my career and I won’t repeat it now that I’ve begun the next generation.”
“So she knows you’re purchasing a slave for her,” the girl persisted as she ran her hand lightly over silk and cotton ensembles.
“Well, let’s put it this way, she probably suspects I’m up to something but considering our history; I’d be surprised if she knew I was purchasing a slave for her exclusive use.”
Claire looked up at this and framed her response carefully. “You’ve alluded a couple of times now that you’re not a voluntary slave like I am. It’s slightly worrisome. Just what kind of person is Elizabeth Heise?”
Views: 1088 · Added: 905 days ago
“Well, it’s true she purchased a coerced conscript slave, namely me, but it wasn’t sadistic desire that drove her. Let me explain…”
Twenty-Two Years Previously
Yesterday, hundreds of teenage girls from seven high schools, three academies and one finishing school had anxiously watched the sport’s arena viewscreen. Shifting uncomfortably upon hard aluminum bleachers, the selection processing machines had performed…adequately, the girls comprising the selection pool talked nervously amongst themselves as they wondered if their face and description would be displayed and their future sealed. Abruptly, digital letters superimposed themselves on the screen and the chattering horde fell silent.
SELECTION POOL: 1,876
Viviane's best friend and rival hissed, “Shit!” It was an expression shared by numerous others as the next two lines formed.
DERRIVITIVE RANDOM DETERMINATION:
Blurred faces streaked along the viewscreen and through a red highlighted box. A full minute past before the faces slowed and when they stopped, the face selected was Samantha Carter, Viviane's friend.
Taking advantage of her aisle seat, the teenager bolted but she didn’t get far before two Selection Committee Handlers seized her. The drama of this attempted escape and struggle was ignored as faces were blurring across the screen again. This time, the wait was two minutes and when it was over, Viviane Giveler saw her own face centered squarely within the red box. Stunned, she meekly submitted when the Handlers arrived as the other teenagers celebrated their good fortune while casting pitying glances toward her.
Standing on a raised dais, it was these glances the nude eighteen year-old bitterly remembered as she watched prospective owners peer into her practically deserted chamber before moving on. Samantha was supposed to be with her but for her foolish escape attempt, she was sentenced to a month at Vacren. Viviane had heard the horror stories concerning the slave’s prison and the only thing keeping her from total despair was the fact that she wasn’t with Sam. This consolidation diminished every time the girl caught sight of her mother peeking through the doorway. The concern and love was appreciated but right now Viviane could have done without such a display as she was terrified her mother’s actions would have painful consequences.
Three hours later, a slightly heavyset young woman entered the room. She had brown eyes behind hideous frames, mousy brown hair and a large nose. She was totally devoid of makeup and there was just the slightest trace of a foul bodily odor. Picking up the pamphlet detailing Viviane statistics, the woman glanced up and instructed, “Please, turn around slowly until I tell you to stop.”
Keeping in mind the ominous whip coiled upon a nearby wall hook, the eighteen year-old slowly rotated herself.
“It’s been a bad birthday, hasn’t it Viviane,” the woman inquired as she rustled the pages.
“Yesterday was worse,” the girl answered sullenly.
“Emotionally, I wouldn’t doubt it but, judging from your backside, today’s exertions were just as bad. It’s a pity your birthday occurred the day after Selection. Perhaps if it hadn’t, your initial introductory session might not have been so painful. Ah well, that’s the trouble with ‘might-have-beens,’ it’s just supposition. Better to just deal with what is. You can stop, sweetie. I want to examine that delightful hinny of yours. That’s it, spread your legs and bend forward but before you entertain amusing ‘notions’ regarding methane, remember that whip.”
“It’s hard to forget,” the enslaved adolescent responded dryly.
“Word of advice; with me, I understand your attitude but I suggest you bury it before someone less understanding comes along and takes issue. Now, reach behind and spread those delectable cheeks.”
Mortified, Viviane obeyed. She knew this would happen but at least it was a woman asking and not some lecherous guy.
“Nice rosebud. Says here that you’re a virgin in all areas and it’s been confirmed medically. Congratulations, according to the media, that’s rather rare.”
“Thank you,” the slave replied courteously.
“Glad you took my advice; that actually sounded genuine. Now, I want to see your teeth. Turn around, that’s it,” the woman encouraged. Realizing that she was nothing more than an animal being inspected on the auction block, Viviane opened her mouth to its full extent as she closed her eyes.
“I know it’s hard,” the woman said sympathetically “but I want you to open your eyes so I can better appreciate the color. You can close your mouth. You’ve taken good care of your teeth. Not a single cavity. Can’t say the same about myself. Lovely dark brown irises, they’re a perfect match for those wavy chestnut tresses. Judging from this paperwork, you prefer men. Such a pity. I’m afraid they won’t let you sit but you can kneel so we can discuss matters.”
Kneeling wasn’t exactly comfortable but having been on her feet all day, it did provide some short term comfort.
“Here’s the thing,” the woman said gently. “You’re in a bad situation. You’re a beautiful coerced life-slave. Ordinarily, you’d already have been snatched up by some sadistic creature who enjoys inflicting pain and humiliation upon the unwilling. Fortunately, this season, there’s a exceptional number of good looking volunteers out there who are attracting all the attention since such a selection is exceedingly rare but soon you’ll be noticed and I won’t be able to do a thing for you. That is, if you wish me to do anything for you. So, let me make my pitch and you can decide for yourself if I’m the better alternative.”
“Technically, at the time, none of Miss’s promises and assurances were legally binding,” Viviane admitted ruefully as she wrenched away from distant memories. “Even then, as inexperienced as I was, I knew that but she was so inept when stating her terms; I found myself actually believing she’d keep her word. It was pretty simple really. I’d be given the trappings of freedom: college, career, dating privileges, a spouse-if I could find a suitable man-and children, when I was ready…”
Panicked, Claire interrupted, “But, I thought all that stuff was by right!”
“The movement for slave rights didn’t bare fruit until after Lady Deth and Ms Tina Morrell past away and by that time I’d already been collared. So what Miss offered was extremely generous for the time and the downside was minimal. Beyond the right of chastisement, and that only if I endanger either myself or others, she’d restrict her ‘play’ to our respective birthdays and another date of my choosing. Furthermore, out of respect for my preferences, Miss wouldn’t demand sexual service provided I didn’t mind her engaging in a bit of onism while I stood in corners after our ‘play-dates.’”
“Frankly, the only conditions I truly loathed were those imposed by the novice slave training protocols. From my perspective, that nearly queered the whole thing but she left me alone to think about it. During that thirty odd minute interval, this really disgusting male showed up with an equally terrifying hatchet faced Lady who detailed intimately the ordeals she’d make me endure. When I saw Miss glance through the doorway, I frantically made the gesture she had the foresight to suggest if I decided to accept her terms but could not confirm verbally. Years later, I learned if I’d taken another ninety seconds, my life would have been quite different.”
Reaching behind her neck, Viviane caressed the raised bar code tattoo. “However, I didn’t realize that then. Instead I was more concerned with the laser imprint, a rather painful process you’re fortunate you needn’t experience with these new miniature data chips. No, I was more concerned with Miss’s protocol additions: no coffee or books-my two main addictions-and no contact with my family. It was this latter requirement that earned me my first official Discipline session.”
Kneeling before her owner, hands bound behind her with a strap securing them to her collar so as to thrust her breasts outward, the adolescent shivered as she tried to ignore the implement laden coffee table. Not having spoken with her mother in sixteen days, the teenager hadn’t been able to resist the temptation presented by a payphone during an unsupervised grocery run. Unfortunately, it had been a prearranged test which she’d failed miserably.
Views: 1155 · Added: 905 days ago
“I am very disappointed in you Vi,” Elizabeth finally scolded after making her property squirm for several minutes. “You may not think so, but I have been very lenient with you. Your foolish disobedience clearly demonstrates that this was a mistake.”
“Quiet child,” the older woman instructed gently as she laid her forefinger across Viviane's lips. “You are in disgrace and as such, I am revoking certain liberties like speaking without permission. I fully appreciate your desire to speak with your mother. I envy your special relationship but I denied you communication privileges for a reason. Even though you’re registered property, certain misbehavior on your part can earn an automatic stay at Vacren. There is nothing I can do to protect you from such a fate except instill obedience within that thick skull of yours. That’s what this month was designed for but your actions have illustrated that you’re not ready for the few freedoms I’ve already allowed; let alone the privileges I want to bestow. So, not only will your training begin anew but I’ll intensify your punishments as well. Starting right now. Lift your head.”
Reluctantly, the naked slave obeyed. Immediately, her eyes were drawn toward the ductape and shears resting upon the couch. She watched as three adhesive strips were cut off and positioned along the telephone receiver. It didn’t take much intelligence to realize what was coming. Without being asked, Viviane positioned her head on her owner’s lap so the receiver could be taped into position. Only then, was she laid lengthwise across the couch with her pearly white derrière prominently positioned upward across Elizabeth’s right leg.
Despite the harsh dialing whirl, Vi could easily hear her humiliating instructions. “Not only will you tell your mother why you’re being punished, but you can inform her that hanging-up would mean painful consequences for her only offspring.”
Before the eighteen year-old could respond, the other end was picked-up.
“What’s wrong! What’s happening?”
“I’m being…” feeling the cupped palm impact her left swell, the disobedient wench squealed before managing to gasp the word “punished.” Slowly, in fits and gasps, she managed to convey just how inappropriate their previous clandestine conversation had been and what would occur if her mother terminated the connection.
“Can I talk to her,” Viviane's mother asked angrily.
“Phone’s taped…Huh!…tooooo…my head,” the teenager explained haltingly.
“I understand. Perhaps we can ‘chat’ later,” despite her growing discomfort, Viviane could hear her mother’s attempt to harness her rage. “I promise, I won’t hang up until she’s through.”
“Thank…Ahh!…you,” the punished maiden managed to choke out.
“Honey, unless you have to, don’t speak. Just listen to my voice. I can just reach the bookshelf and I’ll read you a story. Be brave,” the elder Giveler counseled.
It was then, Elizabeth spoke up. “Warm-up’s through, little one. Tell your mother what’s next.”
Peering over her shoulder, the distraught maiden caught sight of an immense oval hairbrush just before it landed across her divide. “Hairbrush,” she squawked.
“Tell me,” her owner asked “were you ever spanked by your mother when you were naughty?”
Hearing the question over Viviane's cries, Violet snapped “No!” which her daughter sobbingly repeated.
“Pity,” Elizabeth observed. “It would have given you the proper context with which to judge your actions.”
Vi could hear her mother take a deep breath as she sought to calm herself. “Baby, listen. I can’t help you but if you need to cry, let it out. She might be merciful but, for heaven’s sake, don’t fake it or she’ll make it worse,” the distraught parent advised softly. “Did you hear me?”
“Be strong, sweetie, it will end. I promise you.”
“Tugging at restraints connected to one’s neck is unwise, no matter how unintentional,” Viviane cautioned. “Granted, my collar was specifically chosen with such considerations but it was rather unpleasant to feel leather wrapped steel press against one’s fore throat. Sadly, however, it was a lesson I had tremendous difficulty in learning despite the ‘practice’ I received that afternoon.”
“How long did it last,” Claire asked, her tone revealing the anxiety she felt, while examining the gag selections.
“Well, by the time Miss was informed of my transgression and the time she yanked the phone out of my hand, twelve minutes had past. Hence, Miss felt it appropriate that twelve implements be used, including her hand. Curiously, it’s not the pain from the implements I remember; it’s the agony from when she pulled the tape from my head. Not that being punished with two hairbrushes, three paddles, a switch, belt, nursery cane, spatula, wooden spoon and a quirt isn’t unmemorable but having hair yanked from one’s scalp is sheer misery. All things considered, if it wasn’t for being…distracted that summer, I would have been distinctly uncomfortable in being seen without a hat.”
“Did your mother get you in further trouble,” the voluntary slave asked curiously as she inspected nipple clamps.
”Well, after installing me in a corner upon a nasty bar stool, they had a short discussion. I had thought, by having been forced to overhear the entire session, Mom would rip Miss a new one but, instead, she agreed-reluctantly-with Miss’s reasoning. Later, I learned they had a couple of private lunches during my training and established an understanding. Frankly, to this day, I would have appreciated knowing about these meetings. I realize such knowledge would have likely undermined Miss’s instruction but I’ve always been certain it would have spared me my next discipline session.”
“What did you say,” Elizabeth asked mildly.
“You heard me bitch! I’m not putting up with this…this shit anymore! It’s wrong! I never asked to be property. If people have such fantasies, fine but I don’t share them so leave me the fuck alone,” Viviane shrieked.
“I see,” her owner said thoughtfully. “Come here,” she instructed, beckoning with her forefinger.
Suddenly aware of what she’d done, cold panic doused blazing wrath. Backing away, Vi whimpered, “No.”
“Come here,” her Mistress ordered.
Taking refuge behind the couch, the adolescent repeated herself, “No” as her hands automatically shielded her rear-end. Seeing Miss move toward her, the terrified teenager kept the davenport between them. After circling twice, the older woman abandoned her efforts.
“While I’m enjoying this immensely, I know you’re not and that rather ruins it,” Elizabeth observed ruefully. “Now come here before that delectable fanny of yours gets in even worse trouble.”
“Please Miss,” Viviane begged. “I’m sorry. I’m very, very sorry.”
“It’s too late for that and you know it. I’m just surprised it took you this long before having a complete breakdown. Now come here, I’m not going to ask again.”
“No,” the rebellious property repeated mulishly.
Sighing, Elizabeth picked up the phone from the coffee table and dialed a number. It took a few moments for the other end to answer but when it did, Viviane regretted her obstinacy. “Hello, Vacren Admissions, I’d like to arrange a day viewing visitation please.”
“You promised you’d never send me there,” the distraught slave wailed.
Cupping the mouth piece, her owner responded sadly, “Unfortunately, it seems necessary.”
Hurrying around the divan, Vi dropped to her knees before her owner. “Please Miss, I’ll never try to escape your reach again. Just please, don’t…”
“Quiet girl! It’s too late for sniveling,” Elizabeth snapped.
“She really didn’t want to send me there,” Viviane sighed. “But she really didn’t have much of a choice. If my stubborn streak wasn’t curbed and redirected, I’d eventually receive much worse than a viewing.”
“Is Vacren as bad as they say,” Claire asked as she thoughtfully weighed a shamjok.
“Oh yes, it certainly is,” the expectant slave shuddered in remembrance. “While I was spared the more rigorous attentions, I witnessed my fellow selectee endure her final day but even before being reunited with Sam, processing was a…humbling experience. It started with my escort: a six foot, eleven Amazonian who took no gruff. Before leading me outside on a leash, she stripped and handcuffed me like any other condemned slave. I felt humiliated and was perversely gratified that it was a cold and rainy morning since it meant fewer spectators to my shame. Once inside the transport van, I was hooded and hoisted to my toes. By journey’s end, my arms were aching from the constant swaying as the van progressed through morning traffic. It got to the point where I actually longed to be at Vacren but every time I thought we had; it proved to be just another pickup.”
Views: 833 · Added: 905 days ago
“What happened when you arrived,” the volunteer inquired gently from the anal toy section.
“You need to learn patience,” Vi scolded with an amused smile. “Let’s just say, regardless of who they serve, institutions share certain procedures. With us, that meant an intimate search of our persons followed by an exhaustive medical examinations which included a lice inspection. Immediately thereafter, we were hosed down with a fire hose. Worse, during this ‘shower,’ we were instructed to bend over and spread our cheeks.”
“Not a pleasant way to experience a colonic,” Claire observed as she turned her attention towards such equipment.
“No, it isn’t,” the coerced slave agreed straight-faced. “Nor did we appreciate the anti-lice powder we were doused with when we emerged from the showers. Not having been allowed to dry off, it resembled plaster within seconds. However, unlike a normal corrective facility, we weren’t given clothes at that point. Instead, after a lengthy wait before a correction bench, we were harangued at by the Warden. Since Miss lacks that particular skill, her looks are bad enough, I was totally unprepared for this verbal humiliation. Several girls, including myself, were teary eyed by the time she was done. I suspect many of us felt the correction bench would be utilized then but instead we were separated and I was reunited with Samantha. Of course, since she was hooded, I didn’t know who it was until after I was restrained upon a huge wooden pyramid chair...”
“Pyramid chair,” the adolescent interrupted in bewilderment from the literature isle.
“Numerous, say a thousand or more, sharp pyramid points comprised the seat,” Viviane explained. “And if you truly want one, you can include the blueprints within your Toy-Chest. They’re located within that isle, along with the specifics of other equally bulky items.”
“I might, it sounds interesting,” Claire observed.
“Well, to you, such a device might be but I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”
“I’m sorry, I…”
Viviane waved her off. “It was a different time; a different era. Still, even you might not find such a perch enjoyable after eight hours. Especially, if you also had to contend with a device that denies the wearer the ability to close ones eyes.”
“Horrible? Yes, it was. Despite the intervening years, I still have nightmares from that day. And no, I will not tell you what occurred. Just understand, my conversation with Sam and the…atrocities I witnessed made me realize just how fortunate I was with Miss. Just like she intended.”
“Learn your lesson,” Elizabeth asked gently later that night.
“Yes Miss,” Viviane replied meekly from her prostrate position; her hands restrained behind her as they’d been during that horrible telephone ‘conversation.’
“I’m glad to hear it. Will there be anymore resistance toward my training?”
“Excellent. It would be a genuine tragedy if a more substantial stay was required. And no, that was not a threat, I’d never send you there for something other than a viewing but my authority can be overridden if you’re ever found wanting by the Tribunal.”
“Miss, may I speak?”
“I can’t ever go back. I’d die in there! Please, I know I don’t deserve kindness after I was so awful but I…I…” Viviane started crying unashamedly.
Within seconds, Elizabeth was on the floor where she drew the adolescent into her arms. Rocking the teenager back and forth, the chubby woman soothed the girl until, gradually, the tears tapered off and the hiccuping, so indicative of a genuine catharsis, began. Only then, did the slave owner begin to scold her property. “Foolish child, what do you take me for? From the very beginning, I told you what the rules would be. You’ve neither said nor done anything to change that. You merely had a breakdown which any sane person would have. It’s completely understandable and I won’t punish you for it but I will have to address your disobedience. If I don’t, well I think you have a better appreciation for what could happen.”
“Yes Miss,” Viviane sniffed and glanced upward fearfully. “I’ll behave and I’ll cooperate.”
“You mean, you’ll try,” Elizabeth corrected playfully. “It won’t be that bad. Are you ready?”
“Yes Miss,” the resigned slave replied meekly.
“Excellent. I want you to crawl into the kitchen and bring me one of the containers from the freezer.”
“Yes Miss,” Vi replied as she awkwardly got to her knees. Facing the refrigerator, the teenager realized her task wasn’t as simple as she thought. “Miss, I…”
“You’re a bright girl,” her owner interrupted. “And you’d better be quick about it.”
“Yes Miss.” Discerning now the reason for refrigerators with freezers at the bottom instead of the top, Vi clenched the freezer door handle between her jaws and yanked back. Quickly, she let go and interjected her head before the door could close. Inside the compartment, the slave beheld thirty-some small plastic margarine containers and a small aluminum paddle.
“If I’m kept waiting much longer, I’ll send you back for that paddle,” Elizabeth threatened from the other room.
“Yes Miss,” the adolescent replied nervously. The little freezer light had made it possible for her to see the contents: twenty bullet shaped ice shards. Having a pretty good idea where those shards were going, which explained why the route she used was covered with newspaper, Vi took a careful grip with her teeth on the edge of the nearest dish and lifted. Taking great care not to drop the container or it’s contents, she backed up and shut the door with her right foot. Back in the living room, she carefully set the container upon the end-table next to a small jar of Vaseline and the wooden oval hairbrush she loathed.
“Good girl,” her owner praised as she patted her lap. “Let’s get started.” Once Viviane was situated to Elizabeth’s satisfaction, the rules were explained. “Since you’re intelligent, you know what’s coming. There’s roughly six hundred of these little buggers but I won’t make you take each one. No, instead, you’ll decide how many you’ll take and I’ll decide how long you’ll be ‘warmed’ between each set. Either leakage or spillage will result in a special freezer trip to retrieve and return that paddle you saw. Are the rules clear?”
“Yes Miss,” sniffed the contrite teenager who cringed as she heard the lid being removed from the jar.
“Try not to clench,” she was advised kindly. “It’ll hurt more if you do. Arch,” she ordered.
Reluctantly, even though she knew she could have received much worse than this, Viviane complied but, as she did so, she sought to hide her face within the sofa cushion. “None of that, if you please. I adore the cute little expressions you make as you’re being punished,” complimented the ethical sadist as she revealed the cringing, puckered hole.
Resting the left side of her face against the seat, Vi waited. It didn’t take long before a slick, rounded ice bit was pressed against her anus. Moaning softly, she tried not to resist but as a forefinger pressed the little ice cylinder deeper, her restraints were strained.
“Already she complains, ” Elizabeth teased as she prepared the second ‘bullet’ while her property felt the first melting within her rectum. “We need to toughen you up, sweetie, or our ‘play-dates’ will be quite the ordeal.”
It didn’t take long before the teenager began longing for the hairbrush but when it came, it merely provided a different variant of discomfort. One she was already intimately acquainted with. The hard wood bit deep as it repeatedly struck her soft hinny under-curves. As immediate anguish overrode any concern for future suffering, Vi frantically schemed for some means to relieve her torment. “Miss, can I fetch another…container,” she finally gasped.
“Shortly, my dear. Remember, I get to decide when this portion is over but I’m pleased that you’re so…enthusiastic.”
“I can’t believe she said that,” Claire blurted in shock.
“Well, Miss has a weird sense of humor. Believe me, she knew my true motivation.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, just how many ice suppositories were you able to take?”
“Well, let’s just say I had to fetch the paddle before I could even finish my fifth round trip. By then, the icy metal actually felt good against my bruised flesh but this assessment changed rather radically after a hundred swats.”
“Sounds like Miss is strict but fair.”
“She is that,” Viviane agreed. “Moreover, she’s good at twisting the ethereal knife. Once she was finished paddling me, she sat me back down on that damn wooden stool and directed me to devise my own training which was extended for the remainder of the season. She knew me well enough by then to know I’d do a very through and honest job but what turned it into a nightmare was that I was ‘allowed’ to consult my mother over the phone.”
“Oh yeah! Worse, before being so informed, I had written that Miss was NOT to be fair with me since I obviously wouldn’t learn that way and I wasn’t allowed to erase what I’d already written.”
“I think I’ll like Miss,” Claire observed thoughtfully. “Ma’am, I’m finished,” she added after eyeing her box critically.
“Very well,” the room attendant picked up a syringe as she stood up. “Realize this is your final opportunity to change your mind. After you’re secured, this will put you to sleep until your owner awakens you with this,” the nurse held up a different, colored, syringe. “And you will have a headache.”
Swallowing, Claire nodded. “I’m sure.”
Views: 986 · Added: 905 days ago
Cresting the rise, Jill Davis put her foot down and gazed upon the tableau below with a small smile. A thirty-something woman dressed in sensible shorts and blouse was ominously tapping a quirt in her hand as two frustrated nude women with novice slave collars about their necks were reassembling traveling bicycles. Red welts made it quite clear the quirt was not a prop.
Swinging her leg over the snowy white bicycle frame, the new slave owner dismounted and wheeled her traveler down. Her presence was noted but courteously ignored by the overseer as the two slaves frantically tried to finish their assigned task before their Mistress reached them. It was futile attempt but their efforts reaffirmed Jill’s belief that she’d properly judged their characters. Still, they were behind schedule and that required a lesson.
Knowing the effect silence had, Jill kept quiet as she glared down upon her tardy property. Finally, after seeing sweaty hands repeatedly fumble repair tools, she spoke. “I see they’ve not finished their maintenance lesson. I thought I made it clear that I wished to be on my way as soon as I finished placing orders.”
Matching her client’s tone, the overseer replied, “You did, I apologize. It seems young Devlin has never before rode a bicycle and the time I thought available for maintenance and repair was spent in teaching her how to ride. Considering your plans, would you care to return her and select another?”
At this, the young slave in question appeared as if she was about to burst into tears; instead, she bit her lip and quickened her pace. Seeing this, Jill suppressed a smile. “No,” she answered after a deliberate pause. “She intrigues me. It’s not often an individual from her particular religious community decides the world is more appealing than their narrow little slice. Changing one’s life path to walk an unknown trail takes tremendous courage and I admire that.” Emily Devlin almost collapsed with relief. “It does mean, however, that I’ll have to extend her initial whipping tonight. It just won’t do to have a girl who can’t exert herself.” This was unfair and Jill knew it but both her latest acquisitions had elected to be sold as unconditional property. It was a daring decision but it meant their owner could engage in the occasional mind game if she so chose.
Abruptly overcome with impatience, the eighteen year-old declared “If they’re not done in ten minutes, I’ll do more than whip them tonight.” The threat galvanized the nudes. The market overseer didn’t even bother to hide her amusement. Instead, at her client’s gesture, she gave a detailed account of how the two had behaved and performed during the afternoon. Listening carefully, Jill made mental notes.
“There’s one more thing,” the overseer mentioned cautiously once she finished.
“Taking account of your plans, Sharon mentioned that her parents would be glad to extend an invitation for the night so you might conserve your resources.”
“Did she now, the impudent wench,” the eighteen tear-old observed lightly with just a touch of menace.
“I was unsure of your response but the Rolstons have a great deal of influence so I took the liberty of letting Sharon make her inquiry.”
Having long since learned that it was foolish, if not needlessly prideful, to refuse free assistance, Jill merely shrugged. “Considering the circumstances, you made the right call. You needn’t worry I’ll lodge a compliant. Besides, it’s likely this presumptuous hussy’s parents pressured her into making some sort of introduction so as to set aside their fear that I might be a sadistic psychopath.”
Judging from the strawberry blonde’s flustered expression, the teenager knew her assessment was correct. “If I was in their place, I’d have done the same. Still, that doesn’t excuse the harlot’s effrontery in disclosing my business or acting without my permission. It seems Emily will not be the only one who’ll endure a chastising element to her introductory whipping. No matter. Thank you for all your help, Ma’am. Is there anything I…”
“Oh no Miss, part of my job after all.” Handing over the quirt, the overseer shook Jill’s hand and strode toward the parking lot.
Unbuckling one side-bag, the slave owner withdrew two towels, matching washcloths, a soap bar and a sunscreen bottle. Tossing them next to the increasingly frantic nudes, she brusquely instructed her property to use one of the park’s public showers and be back within thirty minutes. Taking a moment to appreciate their cotton ball fannies anxiously speeding off, the eighteen year-old turned back to examine the hash her girls had made. Shaking her head, Jill picked up a discarded screwdriver.
She finished minutes before her property returned. Cleaning her hands, she watched as the glistening women approach in a slow jog. Their jiggling breasts provided an entertaining spectacle but the teenage slave owner carefully schooled her face so her pleasure couldn’t be seen. She noted from Emily’s scarlet face, that the sheltered girl was humiliated by her forced exposure. This shyness was one of the reasons Jill had selected her but she knew she’d have to take care else this prized quality be lost through inure. Panting, they stood before her. Arching an eyebrow, the young Mistress asked coldly “Am I to assume you consider us equals?”
Visibly chagrinned, the pair dropped to their knees.
“Better,” Jill observed grimly. “But I want you kneeling straight with your ankles crossed and hands behind your backs.” Awkwardly, the slaves complied. Reclaiming the quirt from where she placed it, the eighteen year-old started circling her property like a shark as she tapped the implement in her hand. “I already read your dossiers but neither of you know anything about me. Unlike either of you, I am an orphan. I grew up in foster families where they were more interested in the checks they received than the little girl which necessitated their weekly windfall.”
“Consequently, I learned the importance of self-reliance at an early age but it didn’t stop me from feeling lonely. One fine summer day, I learned people could be property if they so wished and with that knowledge I was determined I’d create my own family. It helped,” she added dryly “that I’m a control freak whose affinity for inflicting little torments is greater than being the recipient.” Claiming a piece of ground, the adolescent took a seat before the pair before reaching out with the quirt to caress Sharon’s right breast. “From what I’ve said, you probably realize why I chose you. Well?”
Swallowing hard, the adolescent answered “Because I’m spoiled and everything you’ve every wanted has essentially been given me on a silver platter.”
Narrowing her eyes, Jill gave a small tight little smile. “Very good, minx.” The quirt abruptly lashed an exposed nipple.
Turning toward Emily, the orphan inquired “And you. Do you know why I selected you?”
“If you wish Sharon to be your whipping girl, am I to be your conscience?” the self-exile asked timidly.
Views: 747 · Added: 905 days ago
Falling upon her back, Jill roared with laughter. “Irons!” she finally gasped as chortles of mirth continued to escape her. “I might not be proud of some of the things I’ve done, but that was never a consideration.” Straightening up, she reached out a hand and gently caressed the brunette’s cheek with her forefinger. “I resolved long ago, that I would never treat my purchased family the way I was. Yes, you both sold yourselves without restriction and that means I get to do all sorts of delightful things to you. Well,” she paused wickedly “delightful for me, anyway. However, that comes at a price and I’m not talking about something as crass as money. No, I am responsible for you both. Your safety and well-being are paramount. That doesn’t just refer to physical concerns either. It means emotional and spiritual well-being as well. And you, little Irishandi, set off all my alarms when I read how you consider yourself damned because you prefer women to men. Was this a factor in leaving your religious farming commune?”
Lowering her eyes docilely, Emily said nothing.
“Fine, we’ll discuss it when you’ve learned to trust me but answer one question. Did you decide to sell yourself to feel the pain you expect in the afterlife?”
“No Mistress,” the Irishandi’s crimson flush deepened “even when I was little I…appreciated such acts. I knew then I must come from Hell. Only one of the truly damned could enjoy such torment.”
Hearing a sigh from the other slave, Jill absently struck out with the quirt, “Quiet! I don’t appreciate a peanut gallery.” Frowning, she thoughtfully regarded her religious slave. “It certainly explains your self-portrait essay. We’ll need to work on these self-esteem issues of yours as we expand your horizons but for now we need to get going. Stores will be closing soon and I promised I’d be back to pick up my purchases. There’s also one special stop we need to make. However, first, I want one thing to be absolutely clear. I’ve no problem if either of you are occasionally scared of me but there’s no need to ever fear me. Do you understand the difference,” she asked.
Seeing her girls nod affirmatively, Jill hardened her tone slightly as she gestured toward the bicycles. “You’ll have noticed, I finished reassembling those for you. You’re both responsible for your equipment. If you’re not able to deal with any problem blindfolded by the end of the week, expect a very lengthy and painful session as you explain exactly why you’re not capable. Now, slip on your shoes and safety equipment, we need to go. Sharon, as you grew up in this area, you’ll lead the way. Emily will follow and I’ll bring up the rear. When we’re on the roads, single file. I trust, Rolston, you know the appropriate hand signals?”
“Yes Mistress,” the slave replied as she snapped on her right knee pad.
“Good. Until you’ve gained experience, Devlin, keep your hands on the handlebars and leave the signaling to us.” Having shoved the toiletries and quirt into a side-bag, Jill mounted her bicycle and told her strawberry-blonde their first stop.
Gear disproportionately divided between the three travelers, the girls stopped at a mall near a slave supply store. “Excellent, I’ll get Emily some clothes, since that dress she sold herself in really won’t work for traveling, and then we’ll go across the way,” Jill decided out-loud with evident satisfaction. “Someone always needs to stay by the bikes and gear, that’s a rule girls, so you’re elected Sharon. While we’re inside, you might as well use that payphone so your parents will know that we’re on our way.”
Having never quite liked this particular chore, it took far less time than it would a typical teenage girl assembling a wardrobe. It helped that space was limited. Frankly, the only thing the slave owner dawdled over was a bathing suit and that was because this particular item embarrassed the sheltered religious. Finally selecting a string bikini, the cost of the dental floss apparel almost scuttled the transaction, the trio crossed the road after slipping the clothing into Emily’s side-bags.
“I’ll go in first,” the raven haired vixen said with a nasty little smile. “There’s a few items I especially want. When I come out, you can both go in and select a portable implement you’ll dread. You’d best” she added dryly “be exceedingly honest with your choice.”
Views: 739 · Added: 905 days ago
Fortunately, the store had what she wanted. Explaining matters to the amused clerk, Jill went outside and shooed the other two inside. It was a lengthy wait but the Mistress had expected as much. Specifically being made to select something that would impart agonizing pain to one’s flesh, was an exquisite form of torture. The orphan found it enjoyable to imagine their anguish as they examined shelves and hooks. Would it be wood or plastic? Whiplash or tawse? The possibilities were endless and provided all sorts of delicious fun as the slave owner imagined various positions and liabilities of each. It certainly made the time fly.
When the pair emerged, twilight was soothing the landscape. Wanting to arrive at the Rolston residence before dark, the eighteen year-old had no desire to test her fledgling bicyclist’s skill after nightfall, the adolescent curbed her curiosity. There would be plenty of time that night and if the elderly Rolstons didn’t like hearing their daughter squeal in pain…well, that was unfortunate but the girl did sell herself and Jill was her lawful owner. A fact the Mistress intended to take full advantage of since Emily would initially require careful handling.
“Ring the bell Sharon,” Jill directed with a malicious grin.
“Please Mistress,” the slave begged as her face underscored just how humiliated she was “may I put some clothes on.”
“Girl, you’re already in trouble enough for being impudent so don’t add to your folly,” the teenager scolded.
“Please Mistress, if Daddy sees me like this…”
Amused, her owner asked sharply; “You like skating on the edge, do you?”
Trying hard not to cry and failing, the sole Rolston offspring rang the bell. Almost immediately it was opened by an elderly version of Sharon. The woman even had her own collar. “Mommy,” the girl exclaimed in surprise as she temporarily forgot her lack of attire.
“Evening darling. I see you’ve already been taken in hand,” Mrs. Rolston observed with a smile and respectful nod toward Jill before she gave her daughter a quick peck on the cheek. “If you’d like Ma’am, you can put your bicycles in the garage. They’ll be safe there.”
“Thank you,” Jill replied cordially as she wheeled her bike in the direction indicated. Emily followed obediently, the other did not.
“Yes dear. Your father purchased me long before you were born but there was no need for you to know that so he graciously permitted me the privilege of foregoing my collar. However, since now you’re a slave yourself, such caution is unnecessary. I suggest you get moving dear or tonight will be exceedingly painful for you.” This reminder was sufficient to wring a small squeak of dismay which the young owner found rather cute but not enough to overlook this additional disobedience. For now, though, she merely gave the girl a look.
Inside, the trio were informed that Mr. Rolston was out back, grilling steaks. Excusing herself, their hostess went to fetch him. As anticipated, Sharon dropped to her knees and started begging. “Please Mistress, I know I deserve to be punished severely and I have no right to expect a boon but please let me get dressed. I can’t face my father like this!”
Taking her time, the slave owner carefully considered her property. There could be only one answer but Jill wanted the imp to squirm. “If I do,” she finally said slowly “there’ll be no pleas to postpone tonight’s activities. You’ll both be whipped tonight and if your parents overhear; well, it’s not as if they’re not unaccustomed to slavery protocols.”
“Thank you kind and generous Mistress. I…”
“Yes, yes now scoot to your former room and select something nice.” Glancing at Emily, she added “I assume you’d like to do the same. Well, you can either wear your new bikini or you may see if Sharon has a lengthy T-shirt.”
“Thank you Mistress,” the girl bobbed a quick curtsy and scurried after her ‘sister.’
The atmosphere between the two generations proved remarkably pleasant after Jill voluntarily gave her hosts a copy of her identification and offered, only semi-jokingly, to provide a DNA sample. It helped even more that Mr. Rolston had decided beforehand that he and his concubine would take in a show after the dishes were washed. While the slave girls finished this chore, the two owners privately discussed matters.
Thirty minutes later, having presented their implements for inspection, the nude virgins were abasing themselves before their owner. Reviewing their selections, the adolescent Mistress was provided insights into their personalities. For example, a spoiled girl like Sharon would be attracted and repulsed by the old-fashioned black whip she’d found. It personifying Rolston’s status change, promised pain and left one wondering just how many unbridled slaves had been tamed by the seven foot long lash. Emily, by contrast, had selected a thick, hardwood, oval paddle whose blade was bored eight times. These holes guaranteed blisters which raised interesting implications. Especially after the red-faced religious admitted, she’d felt something similar during the proceeding year and had genuinely hated the thing when it was used. How the Irishandi phrased her confession raised interesting implications but Jill set those aside for now.
Pleased, the slave-owner carefully experimented with her ‘gifts.’ It was fortunate that, despite the cost, she had attended Camp Salotti during the past two summers. Learning how to safely chastise Volunteer attendees with various implements, the teenager could safely use these items without supervision. Satisfied, the young Mistress displayed some of her own purchases.
Unsurprisingly, once unveiled, they were used. Ankle cuffs, with a nine inch steel chain connecting them, mutely promised a shuffling pace toward whatever location their owner determined. A thin black leather strap attached to their collars, drew bound hands up behind upper backs. The soft cushioned leather material that comprised the cuffs, further safeguarded these delicate appendages. Jill knew that her girls didn’t need to be told that when restraints were used, their forthcoming torment would be excruciating.
Buckling thick bits between their jaws, certainly didn’t lessen their growing fears. Nor did the clawed nipple clamps. The tiny silver chains connecting these devious little devices provided the perfect leash as the eighteen year-old proved after each slave was given their chosen implement to hold behind their backs. With a single glance, she imparted an unspoken threat of what would happen if the girls dropped their burden. From their expressions, it was clear the pair were learning to dread that particular look.
Thus encumbered, a two minute walk became a eight minute drudge. Eventually, through the aid of the full moon, Jill could tell from Sharon’s pale face that she didn’t much like the destination. “I bet you thought it was strange that your father removed your swings but left the frame intact,” the adolescent observed cheerfully as she let go of the nipple chain leash to toss a clothesline-one of two she’d removed from her toybag-across the upper support bar. “Hello there,” she waved to a few neighbors who’d come out to enjoy the warm summer evening. Seeing her property flush a deep red at this, amused the slightly sadistic teenager. She guessed that being disciplined before individuals who’d known her, was far more humiliating for Rolston than if it had been strangers.
“Consider yourself lucky that your parents aren’t home,” she whispered into the mortified slave’s ear as she freed her hands from confinement.
Sharon moaned but said nothing as her hands were rebound in front of her before being hoisted to her toes.
Grinning broadly, the teenage Mistress slapped the dangling girl’s rump. “Why are your eyes closed? You’d better open them before I slap your face. You did choose this, you know.”
Blue eyes, moist from unshed tears, defiantly stared back.
“Oooh,” Jill cooed with cloying sweetness. “You’re the type who wants to be challenged, I can tell. Tell you what, I’ll let you hang a bit while I deal with Emily. I’m sure her squeals will remind you of your place. If not, I’m sure this lovely whip will.”
Well aware of her growing audience, which included several youths who’d obviously been in Rolston’s high school, the novice slave owner turned her attention toward her other girl. Leading her to a nearby picnic table, she released the hobble so as to spread Devlin’s feet and restrain them to the picnic bench supports with her remaining rope. Having removed the bit, Jill placed her hand between the Irishandi’s shoulder-blades and pushed. Astutely, Emily bent forward so her hindquarters were thrust upwards.
“You,” Davis teased “I will enjoy hearing.” Taking the paddle from anxious fingers, she added meaningfully “But only if it’s genuine and I’ll know if your faking.”
Measuring the distance, the adolescent brought her arm back and waited until her girl took a quick frightened glance backward before following through. The impact between wood and flesh resounded loudly through the warm air as the resulting cry drowned out the evening’s nightly cricket symphony. “I thought you said you got blistered regularly with a similar paddle last year,” the eighteen year-old mocked gently.
“I did! And it hurt then too,” the girl wailed miserably as the paddle landed across both cheeks.
Views: 682 · Added: 905 days ago
“It’s supposed to hurt, silly,” her owner teased. “It’s a blistering. If it didn’t hurt, I’d think something was seriously wrong with your nervous system.” Using her left hand, Jill pressed down firmly upon her slave’s lower back and started a rapid volley that tested the strength of Emily’s bonds as the girl’s hands futilely wrenched downward. Enjoying herself immensely, it felt so good to inflict torment upon a willing victim, the athletic sadist kept her strokes to an irregular brisk pace as she alternated the area she targeted.
Devlin’s upper torso seesawed. One moment breasts were pressed flat against the painted wood, the next, clamped nipples were barely grazing the surface. It was quite obvious that the shy girl had become oblivious to her audience and surroundings. Jill, however, was thanking the Creator profusely for providing her homeworld with such a beautiful satellite that enabled her to see the equally glorious half-moons as they darkened under the oval paddle’s strenuous ministrations. The eight bored holes certainly increased Emily’s suffering as flesh was drawn upward into the cavities. When the blade was withdrawn, eight puckered red blisters were revealed. These increased exponentially with each stroke.
Pausing, with deliberate malicious forethought, the teenager caressed the squirming cherubs with the smooth wood. Abruptly, Jill’s free hand grasped Emily’s brunette hair and yanked backward. The slave’s painful gasp was cut short as her owner brutally pressed her lips against her property’s open mouth and explored the orifice with her tongue. Having never before kissed anyone, the maiden found she quite enjoyed the experience.
Tearing herself away, Davis released the girl and explored her cunt. “You’re wet,” she observed accusingly as she dried her hand with Emily’s tresses.
“I’m sorry Mistress,” the slave whispered tearfully.
“I’m not and neither should you,” Jill replied with just a touch of genuine anger. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying your body. Why else did the Creator in Her infinite wisdom give us nerve endings with which to feel. Thinking otherwise, denies a basic sense we’re all born with and rejecting such a divine ability is a genuine sin for it renounces a basic aspect of being alive which, in itself, is the greatest gift of all. Based on what you’ve said earlier, I know you believe that those who sin should always be punished severely. Therefore, for your effrontery in rejecting these blessings, I’ll be finishing you off with twelve harsh strokes instead of the six I planned. Count.”
The first, despite the cotton white binds that restrained Devlin’s lower limbs, brought the slave to her toes. Displeased with the failure of her property to immediately enumerate the stroke, Jill informed the whimpering girl, “We’ll start over. I suggest you strangle the cat that has stolen your tongue. If you don’t, sitting on your hard saddle tomorrow will be exceedingly uncomfortable.”
Emily took this warning to hart and practically screamed “One” the moment the paddle struck her vulnerable backside. Eleven strokes later, Jill was caressing the punished nether flesh with her hands. “I think you’ll rather enjoy what you’ll see in the mirror,” she said huskily. “If one took a pencil to connect these dots, the finished picture would be that of a well chastised slavegirl. You took it rather well and I’ll let you rest while I deal with your ‘sister’ but I promise; we’re not finished yet.”
Rather pleased with the expression this menacing promise produced, Jill gave the girl a quick kiss on the forehead and returned the paddle to the sufferer’s grasp. Slowly walking back toward Sharon, her owner was gratified to see terrified desperation within the teenager’s eyes. Reclaiming the whip, Davis reached out and pressed the coiled lash against Rolston’s face. “I think I’ve gained your attention, haven’t I,” she asked with a purr. “Struggle all you wish, it will only add to my pleasure but know this. Your mouth has gotten you in trouble three times today so part of your punishment will be to suffer without the use of that obnoxious hole.”
Taking her time, Jill walked behind her dangling slave as she uncoiled the lash. Once she was certain her property couldn’t see her without revealing the attempt, the young sadist snapped the whip several times. The squirming this produced was delightful to behold. Regretfully, knowing the trio had to get up early the next morning, the teenager ceased her teasing.
The whip’s length made it possible to be used in three ways: by measuring her distance, the full force could be imparted with the tip, the length and finally the lash could wrap itself around the young woman’s torso. Each method had merit but there were also specific liabilities and dangers. Taking care to appreciate the former while avoiding the latter, Jill began by whipping Sharon’s back, bottom and thighs. Only when a red ladder had been created, did the Mistress abandon the second technique for the first.
This method required a bit more skill since her inexperienced property was twisting and turning as she desperately sought an escape from the whiplash. Still, the adolescent was determined her girl would experience three ‘kisses’ this evening. Taking careful aim, the first landed exactly upon Sharon’s left haunch. The effect was immediately apparent as the left knee sought it’s owner’s stomach. “Settle down, bitch,” Jill snapped; hoping her tone would penetrate the haze of pain and fear. “The more you struggle and resist, the longer and worse it will be.”
Thankfully, the words penetrated and reluctantly heeded as evidenced by the leg’s gradual lowering. Taking aim, the second ‘kissed’ the slave’s right haunch. Deciding her girl would need assistance for the third stroke, Jill came to a decision. Quickly walking back to Emily, Davis quickly released the girl and led her over to the swing-set. “I know your bottom hurts, but I want you to sit behind your ‘sister’ and hold her legs apart. Make sure you have a good grip and hold tightly,” she instructed.
Wide-eyed, Devlin complied. Satisfied her commands had been followed, the young Mistress assumed a position before Sharon who quickly began shaking her head and tried to plead for mercy as she twisted about. Abandoning her stance, the teenager walked forward and grabbed the girl’s chin. “Enough,” she commanded softly. “You made a point of asking for this in your slave essay and now you’re going to receive one, just one, stroke there but if you keep struggling I assure you, I’ll give you a dozen with a belt before bed. So choose.”
Whimpering, Sharon stopped resisting and spread her legs as hands grasped the rope restraints
“Good girl,” Jill praised as she let go.
The slave asked an inarticulate question which her Mistress correctly interpreted.
“Yes, for this one, you may close your eyes.” Reassuming her stance, the teenager was determined not to drag it out. Measuring carefully, the slave owner snapped her wrist and the tip landed squarely upon quim central. The reaction was immediate. A loud muffled scream as the whipped torso thrashed about. Unfortunately for Emily, her ‘sister’s’ bladder lacked the requisite fortitude.
Chuckling at the girl’s expression, her owner gave immediate permission to hose off as she administered the final six to the sweat glistened body. These were wraparounds. Four were torso, at differing heights, and the fifth was at breast level. The sixth was just bellow the pelvis. Jill figured her girl had had enough attention there for one evening. Beckoning the Irishandi with her forefinger, Davis directed the religious to hose her ‘sister’ off and release her. The two were then to clean their individual accouterments before taking a shower. “You can admire your marks,” their owner graciously permitted, knowing there would be no way to prevent it, “but you are not to soothe or touch yourselves in anyway except hygienically as you shower. I’ll expect you in my bedroom within thirty minutes. If you’re not…”
Doubting after such a strenuous session her girls would dare tardiness, the adolescent took her own long and luxurious shower before reclaiming her prized implement. Wearing her favorite extra long T-shirt, Jill reclined on the Rolston guest bed as she went over her map for the following day. A soft knock on the door quickly drew her attention away. Folding up the map, she called “Come in.” Looking apprehensive, her nude property entered. “Sharon on the right, Emily on the left. Spread your legs and place your hands behind your heads,” their Mistress directed. Without hesitation, the girls complied.
Revealing her ivory hairbrush with the boar bristles, the slave-owner tapped her palm menacingly. “This year is about fun but it’s an imperfect world. There will be times when you must abide my orders without question. Unlike me, this particular brush is something you should fear. It’ll be used whenever you disobey a direct order or foolishly endanger us. But, to properly fear it, you need to experience it’s bite. So, I’ve decided to end tonight’s session with a little introduction but you each get to determine the period you’ll be across my lap by demonstrating just how skilled you are.” Leaning back against the headboard, Jill spread her legs and rucked up her T-shirt. “Sharon, you’re first. If you do a good job, it’ll only be five minutes but if you’re not. Well…you get the idea.”
Views: 507 · Added: 905 days ago
Angie laughed softly at the dry witticism concerning the current political scandal. Composing herself once more, she took a sip from the china tea cup. It had been awhile since she’d permitted herself the luxury of simply relaxing.
“Girls,” a familiar voice chided just slightly from behind “I trust you’ve been well?”
“Lady Rene,” Angie exclaimed in delight as she stood “do please join us.”
“I’m afraid I lack the time for proper conversation,” the Lady replied evenly. “I saw four familiar figures through the window and thought I’d pop in and invite you to my place so as to properly greet the new year during my annual masquerade. Needless to say, your significant others are invited, if not required, as well. Please let me know their decision so that I may make the necessary preparations.” Angie wasn’t surprised when the older woman turned and departed from the tea parlor.
“Oh wow,” Amy exclaimed. “I’ve always wanted to be invited to one of the Lady’s parties.”
“Five minutes after arrival, you’ll probably change your mind concerning this particular honor,” Jess commented wryly in a raised voice to be heard over blaring sirens.
Amy’s bubbly personality visibly dimmed at this observation but her redoubtable persona rebounded when she countered, “Maybe, but you know the reputation of the Lady’s parties.”
“True,” Angie agreed but she forgot what she was going to say as several additional emergency vehicles roared by as people began sprinting up the walkway. She was about inquire the proprietress when the classical music that had been playing softly in the background was interrupted by the emergency signal.
“Attention! Attention please! Turbo Train No. 9 from Toledo has crashed.
Emergency medical personnel have responded and are treating the
wounded. City and state officials are requesting citizens to stay off of
Routes 9, 6A and Kenean Avenue. These are the direct routes from the
accident to the hospitals and must remain open so as to allow the wounded
to be transported as rapidly as possible.”
The irritating emergency signal sounded again before the message was repeated.
“Girls, I’m afraid I have to leave now,” Angie calmly stated as her heart raced within her chest.
“You can’t give blood again Ang. You’ve given so much that you’re forbidden to give again until the first third of the new year has past,” Maru protested.
“That’s not the reason but you three aren’t under such restrictions.”
Miho groaned, “Alright, we’ll give.”
Angie smiled briefly as she assumed her coat, “Unless something unexpected happens, I’ll see you three at the Masque.” Minutes latter, the blonde was traveling via tube to her residence. Ignoring the horrified discussions of her fellow passengers, the six foot eleven inch woman stared into the murky gloom of the tunnel system as she mentally prepared herself.
Eleven hours latter, the apartment door opened to reveal a diminutive Asian female haggard by exhaustion and anguish. Secretly relieved, since the shift had been scheduled to end eight hours ago, Angie quickly moved from the settee to the doorway where she effortlessly picked up the emergency room physician. “Are you hungry,” she asked softly.
An almost imperceptible shake was the only response. Kicking the door shut with her foot, the blonde carried the four foot one inch doctor into the bathroom and set her on a chair. Turning away just long enough to stoppage the drain, twist the knobs and add bubble mix the woman silently cursed herself for failing to be omniscient so as to have had this ready beforehand. Ignoring the stench of death and despair, she deftly removed the woman’s outer clothing but, instead of the professional garb she’d worn the previous morning, hospital greens were now revealed. As Angie stripped these off, she watched for any sign of emotion beyond weary detachment. But even nude, there was no indication of genuine feeling. Suppressing the dread this wrought in her own heart, the robust woman picked up the dead weight and set her into the warm sudsy water.
Doffing her nightgown, the blonde knelt by the tub side and began to wash the other’s hair. No sound or assistance was offered by the recipient during the entire cleansing process but Angie hadn’t expected any. Nor did she attempt to gain a reaction by making the bath into a sensual experience. Instead, once two day’s worth of perspiration and grime that even hospital cleansing protocol cannot remove during emergency triage, she lifted the smaller woman clear and placed her on the counter. Only then, did the woman speak and that in a whisper.
“Yes, Kami. You need at least one and you know it’ll help,” Angie replied quietly as she gently caressed the other’s facial cheek with the back side of her index finger. Kneeling down, she opened the cupboard door and removed a red two quart enema bag, lubricant, two packets of liquid soap and the douche nozzle used in place of the actual enema nozzle. Preparing the solution took very little time and within three minutes the bag hung from a golden hook usually used for terry cloth robes and air was released from the hose. With her left forefinger and thumb, the recipient’s neither cheeks were spread so a dab of lubricant was place on Kami’s puckering rosebud that cringed at the sudden coolness. Gently, the long narrow tube was slipped inside the Asian woman. Clicking the clamp open, the liquid gurgled through the tube and into Kami’s innards.