Learning the Dance

More to Learn

 

Later that afternoon Dominic and Michael were sitting at the table in Michael’s suite, eating dinner. The light was low and soft on the courtyard outside. Dominic seemed distant and spent much of the time staring out the window. Michael finally asked:

 

“Dominic, is everything all right?”

 

“Hmmh? Oh, yes. Just a bit tired, I’m not as young as I used to be, you know.”

 

“Well, you deserve to be tired. That was just amazing, what happened today.” Am image of Claire’s face formed in Michael’s mind. “The way you got her to suck, and then the look on her face at the end. Just incredible!”

 

Dominic finally looked at him. “Yes, it is incredible. I have an incredible life.” He smiled softly. “And you will be sharing more of it soon.” He came out of his mood, and stood up. “But first, I have some homework for you.”

 

He went to a desk that shared the anteroom in Michael’s suite, and pulled open a drawer. Inside was a large sheaf of papers that he brought back. “You should look through these tonight. Tomorrow we will continue with Claire’s training. There is a long way yet to go with her.”

 

With that Dominic left. Michael took the papers and with curiosity aroused began to examine them. They were financial records. It was a detailed account of Dominic’s business -- revenues, expenses, the salaries paid to all the employees and details about all the slaves, when they had been captured, when they had been sold. There was nothing there that could implicate anyone in the organization – no names or identifying details - but everything else was itemized and clearly laid out. Michael took the papers over to the desk and began to study them carefully. He had taken a few courses in accounting, and with some concentration he was able to begin making sense of everything.

 

Some hours later he had a good picture. The business was actually quite small. There were four employees – Jaffa who supervised everyone, the two guards, and someone else– a doctor. There were also four resident slaves – Mandy, Sengita, and two more he had not met who worked as housemaids and in the kitchen. The only ones who ever left the estate were Jaffa and the guards, when they were needed to help procure the trainees. The guards did the outdoor work on the estate as well. They were paid but had no real use for the money. In the accounts they appeared just like the slaves, apart from monthly payments to accounts in Monaco.

 

The business had at one time been quite profitable, but not in recent years. Basically, even though he paid no taxes, Dominic still needed to train and sell two slaves per year to cover his expenses. But in fact he had not made a sale in three years, and apart from Claire, it appeared he had not started a new trainee in that time either. Before Claire the previous trainee had been Mandy. It was as if Dominic had simply decided to retire, but had retained all his employees.

 

Michael leaned back and rubbed his eyes. He was beginning to see that there might be some responsibilities associated with his new position. He had to keep the organization running just to support all the people who depended on it. He could hardly lay them off and send them away disgruntled about their treatment.

 

His thinking was interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

 

“Come in!”

 

The door opened and it was Sengita, carrying a tray with a teapot and some sweet breads. She was dressed in white stockings, panties, and a bra that squeezed the upper slopes of her breasts into two convex mounds that jiggled pleasantly as she walked into the room. She kneeled in front of Michael, holding the tray for him with her eyes downcast.

 

Michael smiled, feasting his eyes on those round breasts so nicely displayed for him. He slowly poured himself a cup of tea, savoring the moment. He noticed that the tray was shaking slightly, as were her breasts. He let it continue.

 

“Please, Sir, I  . . .  . What should I do, Sir?” Sengita’s voice was soft and submissive, with none of the playfulness he had seen that morning.

 

“Do?”

 

“Yes, sir. What will you have me do? For my punishment, Sir.”

 

Michael took in a large breath of air. He had forgotten. Sengita was here for the punishment that she had earned that morning.

 

His smile grew broader. He reached down to hold Sengita behind her ears and he forced her to look up at him. His cock stiffened as he stared into that lovely face and those obedient eyes. What he had seen that afternoon had opened him completely to the exquisite pleasure of feminine suffering. A shudder of anticipation went through his body. Now, finally, he would explore those pleasures himself.

 

*     *     *

 

Back in her room Claire was sitting on her bed holding her breasts. Her body shook with her sobs. Her breasts were still swollen and they still hurt. Stabbing pains shot through them if she moved, and she held them to lessen the agony as her chest heaved.

 

 But the pain in her breasts was nothing next to the gut wrenching ache she felt in her stomach. She was utterly demoralized, humiliated, and defeated. She had fallen so quickly. All her resolve, all her anger, in the end all had meant nothing.

 

She could still remember the taste of Dominic’s cum, and her tongue moved in her mouth as the memories flowed, as if to clean out the traces. She could remember the eagerness with which she greeted those first spurts – the sense of accomplishment when she felt his cock swell in her mouth and deposit its load on her tongue.  She remembered how she had sealed her lips around him as he came, sucking the juices, making sure he stayed in her mouth and gave her all of it. She remembered how she had swirled her tongue to get every drop and squeezed it all down her throat, eagerly attending to the incredible pain in her turgid breasts, waiting for the first signs of relief.

 

And then the realization that it was all a lie. She had been duped, and he was laughing at her. Laughing! The slimy bastard was laughing in triumph at her debasement. A new wave of disgust rose within her, and she cradled her poor breasts more tightly.

 

She had lain there in pain on the floor in the mirrored room for some time. When the two guards reappeared they said nothing, but she could see their smirks and feel their amusement as they released her and raised her by her upper arms. The movement caused excruciating pains in her swollen breasts, and she had fought their grip to bring her hands to them. But her hands were so small and they were so large! She could hold them up, but then the pain just from the touch of her fingers was so intense! And the shaking from the way the guards were holding her and forcing her to walk. She screamed continually as they dragged her naked through the door and down the hall.

 

Finally she was left in her room. She hobbled to the bed slowly, holding her poisoned and swollen flesh, trying to find a position, a posture, anything to relieve the pain. She got on all fours on the bed letting them hang freely; she tried lying on her back, on her side. Nothing worked. The pain continued, evolving, changing. She had no other thoughts.

 

Then, from nowhere, she felt it lessen slightly. Was it going away? Would it just come back? No. it was there, but not so intense. Still rising and falling, but the peaks were not so high. She got on all fours again on the bed; her breasts so massive the nipples grazed the bedcovers. She laid her forehead on the pillow, completely still now, breathing, waiting, just waiting for the pain to subside.

 

 Slowly the antidote began its work. It was still bad, but she began to feel relief. It was getting better. She was going to get better. The pain was going away. She raised her head, slowly, testing. The movement stretched her skin and sharp stabbing pains shot through her again. “Auuughhh!” She had to stop.

 

But a few minutes later, breathing slowly, she found she could move her head. Slowly again she raised her shoulders and tried to sit up. It was bearable. She could do it. She rose up to sit on her heels, facing the broad wooden headboard of her bed. Softly her hands went to her breasts, gently feeling their massive convex undersides, testing for changes. They were getting smaller. Tears of relief poured from her eyes. It was ending. It was going to end.

 

It was then that she moved to get off the bed, and saw for the first time her image in one of the mirrors that seemed to be everywhere. Shock and horror greeted her. She could hardly recognize that face. Her eyes were hollow, her cheeks gaunt, her complexion red and rough. It looked like the face of a street person many years older.  And her breasts! Enormous, still, and an angry orange-purple. They made her look like a grotesque cartoon. Her hands were tiny and helpless beside them.

 

Suddenly a terrible image rose in her mind - an image of herself only a short time before, after Dominic had spent in her mouth and pulled away. Her head had been only a few feet from that other mirror, and she had seen herself straining to follow his cock, to keep sucking its juices into her mouth. In her mind’s eye she saw the expectant eagerness in her own haggard face. Humiliation and despair rose like vomit in her throat. She stood and struggled to the sink in her bathroom, where she heaved and barfed, screaming with the pains in her hanging breasts.

 

 

*    *    *

 

 

In Michael’s room a white hand was landing solidly on olive skin. Sengita was naked but for her stockings, and was stretched out across his lap, her hands on the floor and her breasts bare and hanging. Michael’s cock rose straight and hard between his belly and the luscious naked ass cheeks that presented themselves for punishment. Loud slaps rang out as his hand rose and fell.

 

Michael was in a wonderful mood. He had been spanking Sengita for some time now. No hurry. Plenty of time to caress her round cheeks and squeeze her hanging tits before starting another series of spanks. He had long since lost count. He ran his hands over her back and down her legs, feeling the firm curves. Then he cupped her reddened cheeks, feeling the heat. Then more spanks, concentrating on the lower, fuller sections of her buttocks.

 

Sengita had been silent to start, but now she was crying, her tears splashing softly on the hardwood floor. Her breathing was heavy, and the soft feminine complaints that followed each slap went straight to Michael’s cock. He loved the sounds he was making – the sharp slaps and the melodious sobs that followed them. He paused again, one hand firmly squeezing Sengita’s dangling breast, the other shaping her hot ass.

 

“You have a lovely ass, slave.”

 

“Auhh! Thank you, Sir”

 

“And it looks even better as it jumps and reddens under my hand.” Michael drew his fingernails firmly across one cheek. Sengita yelped, and her body spasmed and shuddered. He did it again to the other sensitized cheek, thrilling in the way it made her body shake on his knee. His cock was pulsing with an overwhelming sense of power and control.

 

“But we have some way to go, I think.” His hand rose once again, and then fell sharply, staying there and digging into her flesh with a gooshing jiggle.   Sengita’s body stiffened, her feet left the floor and her shaking thighs pressed more heavily onto his. Michael’s hand rose again. “Whap!” Another gooshing jiggle. Then another and another. “Whap!” “Whap!” Sengita’s shaking became continual, and her cries became louder, rising in pitch.

 

“Augghhh! Ohhh! Augh! Aughhhh! Oh my!!”

 

Suddenly Michael stopped. In a swift movement he pushed Sengita off his lap and onto the floor. She lay there on her side still shaking, her eyes back in her head, her breasts now visible and jiggling wildly on her chest. “Auggh! Ohhh!”

 

“Get up! NOW! Face me!”

 

The shaking finally resolved into one long spasm that left Sengita in a fetal position around his feet. Then, sensing his intense stare, she rose quickly but with some awkwardness to her knees in front of him. Taking a breath she spread her legs, straightened her back, put her arms behind her, and then finally her large dark eyes focused on his. Her smell rose up between them. She was panting, excited, sweaty, and absolutely gorgeous.

 

Michael was staring, still in disbelief. Then, after a moment, his own shoulders started to shake, and then in spite of himself he started to laugh.

 

“You fucking Minx! You enjoyed every moment of that!”

 

Sengita’s eyes turned bright with mischief, and she arched her back, thrusting her breasts toward him. She giggled the same way she had done that morning. “Yes Sir! Thank you Sir!”

 

Michael looked at her evenly, still smiling. “Very well. You will now get a further punishment for coming without permission. Hands behind your head! Now! Present yourself!”

 

Sengita rose up and arched, her breasts gliding slowly across her chest. Michael’s cock was at attention, pointing between them. He reached out to take each one in his hand, his fingers underneath.

 

“You will receive five slaps on each breast. You will maintain your position or the count will start over. Do you understand?

 

“Yes Sir!” Her face was serious again.

 

Michael’s right hand dropped, and with all his strength he brought it up against the underside of her left breast. There was a very loud “WHAP” and her flesh exploded upwards, slapping against her shoulder, then rebounded down to stretch out and slap again under her armpit, then rose in a complex series of jiggles and bounces to finally come to rest. “Ahh! Oww!” Her eyes brightened with tears.

 

“Whap!” Her right breast rose sharply, then fell. “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” Whap!” her breast flesh was dancing wildly now, and her hands couldn’t stay behind her head. They rose to wave in the air, hands clenching and unclenching. But she concentrated, her eyes closed, and she kept herself presented in position. “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!”

 

Michael reached out and grabbed. “How many has that been? How many!?”

 

“Augghh! Ten, Sir. Ten!” The tears were now streaming down her face.

 

Michael held on, squeezing tightly. “Very good, my pet. Now, you will take your breasts in your own hands, and you will use them to pleasure your Master.  When I come it will be on your face. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes Sir.” She sounded like a punished little girl now. Michaels’ cock swelled at the obedience in her voice.

 

Sengita snuggled down as he slid forward on his chair and spread his legs. Moments later he felt the incredible softness of her breast flesh enveloping him from both sides. Sengita looked up at him, tears still running from those large brown eyes. A few strokes were all it took. “Ahhh!” A large white stream erupted to land on her forehead and down across her cheeks and her nose. “Ahh!” Another. And another. It was Michael’s turn to shake and spasm. 

 

Soon after he reached down between her breasts to take his cock in hand, and he rubbed the end across her lips. Her pink tongue came out to swirl around the end as she continued to look up with tearful eyes. Michael stared for some time, enjoying the sight of his cock, still erect, hovering over her come covered face. The white streaks stood out against her smooth olive skin, slowly dripping and congealing, mixing with her tears.

 

Finally he stood up. “All right Sengita, your punishment is over. You may go. I will expect you in the morning, as today.”

 

“Yes Sir.” Sengita rose, retrieved her bra and panties, and headed for the door.

 

“Sengita!”

 

“Yes Sir?”

 

Michael looked at her for a moment. “Do not wash my come from your face tonight. I wish to see it still there in the morning.”

 

“Yes Sir.” Sengita left.

 

Michael watched her ass as she left. Then, looking around, he realized that it was late and that he was very tired. He cleaned up and went straight to his bed.

 

Lying there, before succumbing to waves of exhaustion, he realized he had never in his life had a day like this. He had seen and learned so much. And most of all, he realized he had so much yet to learn, about girls like Sengita who enjoyed their punishments, and about how one could break a girl like Claire. And Mandy. Fuck! what an attractive girl she was! How could anyone handle all of this, and still deal with the business, its employees? He had no idea. Yet, falling asleep, he was unworried. It could wait. He would learn. He was the welcome guest of the world’s best teacher. And there were no deadlines, and no exams.

 

 

*   *   *

 

Later that night, in a different part of the mansion Doctor Rose Dawson was sleeping soundly. She awoke to an abrupt knock at her door, and suddenly the lights were on and Jaffa was beside her bed.

 

“You must come. It’s Dominic.”