Submissive Wives Academy of Training

SUBMISSIVE WIVES ACADEMY OF TRAINING

Chapter Four – “Tea Party” Time

The line of jogging and running women was strung out on the path toward the red pole, with the two blonde stirrup slaves and their slashing crops moving back and forth along the line, coming up alongside Jan, then one would double back to the end where the two fatter women lagged behind.  That was when Jan heard the hooves and saw Lady Margaret coming up, swinging her crop in long arcing upstrokes right up the ass crack.  Jan knew she couldn’t outrun the mare, but just as she felt the horse approaching her, she stepped to the side to avoid the worst of the stroke.  Lady Margaret didn’t miss a beat as she adjusted the horse’s stride and came up behind her with three nasty swings of that crop.  Jan almost lost her balance and for a moment thought she had bitten into the horse turd in her mouth.

       Lady Margaret cantered on ahead of them and pulled up just beyond the red post, grinning and tapping her crop against her thigh.  “Hands on heads as you run!” she yelled out, watching as the eight women quickly obeyed.  “You, too shit bag,” she called.  “And there’s plenty more punishment for you later.”  Shit bag had been holding the handles of the tote as she ran along right in front of the two fatties at the back of the line.  Her large tits sagged down, weighted with bag and its contents.  Her mouth gaped open and she struggled to breathe as she dropped back to the rear.  That’s when one of the blonde stirrup slaves turned on her heel and whacked her across the tits, followed by two more on her ass as hurried to catch up with the pace.

       Jan saw that Lady Margaret had sheathed he crop alongside the saddle and now held a short braided quirt with a black-knotted lash at its tip.  As each subject rounded the post, she received a quick “X” across the back or shoulder blades.  Even the two stirrup slaves weren’t spared and as the group headed back the Lady spurred the mare into a trot and came back along the line, staying with shitbag as she applied the quirt to her backside and the sagging tits before flicking it along the hips of the others as they straggled to the finish.

       Flogger and Birches were applauding in delight as the group returned and took positions along the line, hands still clasped atop their heads.  “Position Ten, attention,” Flogger called to them, “and keep that line straight!” Jan kept her hands in position as she went down to her knees, noting that some more crushed stone had been scattered along the line where they knelt.  She held her mouth open, balancing the horse apple on her tongue and fearful that saliva would be turning it to mush.  Breathe, she thought, keep air around it, gad it tastes awful.  The slave called shitbag staggered up, her chest heaving as the bag pulled her nipples down.  She bent over, trying to catch her breath.

       “Stand up, shitbag,” Lady Margaret demanded, “ pickup the bag and show me a presentation tray.” 

       “Yes, Mistress, thank you Mistress,” shitbag replied immediately, snapping to attention and fumbling into a pocket on the side of the tote bag.  She brought out a plastic container that looked like an egg carton.

       “Let’s see, eight turdslimes, two slaves and two in shitbag’s mouth.  An even dozen, oh that’s perfect!” Lady Margaret laughed, joined by the two Sisters.  “Shitbag, collect them, my sluts first.  Present them nicely, on the tongue.”

       Shit bag crossed to where the two stirrup slaves were already holding their tongues out with a horse turd balanced on each.  She took them and placed them in the carton, then turned to the line of eight.

       “Tongues out, and those beautiful apples had better be looking good,” Sister Birches called.  Shitbag followed Sister Birches down the line, taking each one as it was offered.  Jan’s was in pretty good shape, the short older woman next to her had shiny coats of spit and saliva all over hers, but it was intact.  The big blonde was not so fortunate, since hers seemed to have been flattened by her tongue or teeth somewhere along the way.  The same went for the curvy one with the big tits and broad butt.  She was coughing as the slimy mass stuck to her tongue.  Shitbag collected the turds and Lady Margaret then indicated that she could remove the pair from her own mouth.

       “Sluts, dismount and hold,” Lady Margaret snapped and the two slaves ran to her side.  One immediately crouched on all fours and the other knelt by the bridle with her mouth open.  Lady Margaret stepped down onto the crouching slave’s back and slipped the reins into the mouth of the other.  She walked to where shitbag stood at the end of the line.  Shitbag knelt and placed the tray on her head for the Lady to review.  Lady Margaret poked at the turds with the handle of her quirt.  “Hmm, not too bad, I suppose, except for this one and this one,” she sneered; pointing to the two mangled ones.  “What do you say, Sisters?”

       “I saw them immediately,” Sister Birches answered.  “And I know where both have been.”  She walked to the two women in question as Sister Flogger approached them from behind.  She walked to the big blonde and nodded her head, winking at her Sister.  Sister Flogger took her cue and shoved the blonde down face first with a boot to the back, then quickly stepped over to the one with the big butt and did the same.  Each woman reached out instinctively to break her fall, but both managed to hold their arms over their faces as they were pushed into the gravel.  Sister Birches topped them off with her boot on their necks, grinding noses into the dirt.  “So what do you have in mind, Lady Margaret?”

       “Well, we always punish the lot of them for any fuckups, and I had thought I might exercise my arm on some asses, but I believe I will save that for when this bunch get promoted to the barnyard, if they ever do.  In the meantime, let’s be sure the noon meal gets an extra shot of oil, then take them to the landing pad and give them a thirty-minute sundial treatment.  You’ll know what happens next and these two here can entertain the other six.”  Lady Margaret walked back to her horse and took the reins as the slave holding them held her stirrup.  She stomped onto the back of the other slave who still held position as a step and climbed into the saddle.  “Shitbag, pissbucket , in your positions.”

“Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress,” they answered, scurrying to get behind the mare.  

“Sluts up.”  The two slaves stood at attention on each side of their Mistress.  She reached out and clipped a leash to each collar, looking at the film of dust on her riding boots.  “Boots!” she snapped.  The two slaves started licking the dust off the bright shine of the boots.  When Lady Margaret seemed satisfied, she turned to go.  “Sisters, would you like to join me and Mistress Evelyn for tea?  We will be testing some slutgrades for performance standards and possible collaring.”

“A pleasure, Lady Margaret,” Flogger replied.  “See you then.”

“Until afternoon tea, then,” the Lady replied, spurring her horse into a trot as she left the compound with her entourage.  A scullery slut arrived just then, carrying two buckets on the yoke strapped across her shoulders.

“Well, is it time to eat?” Sister Birches asked.  “How time flies when you’re having such fun!  What have we today, slut?”

The scullery slut approached them and went to her knees, setting the buckets down on each side.  “Mistress, today it’s oatmeal, lemon and lime peels, shaving stubble and vitamins,” she said, pointing to one bucket,  “and mixed with cuntgrade bathwater and some two-day-old shitgrade piss.”  She smiled as she pointed at the other bucket.

“Sounds yummy, slut.  Mix it up good while I find my castor oil bottle to add.”

Sister Flogger swatted the ass of the nearest woman in the line.  “Down, position five and dig me a bowl, all of you.  We will honor you with food, even though you barely deserve it.”

They waited as the slut came by ladling the slop into the depression each had dug.

The oatmeal looked to be uncooked, studded with the colors of the ground up citrus peels.  The “shaving stubble” was truly awful looking as it was obviously coarse pubic hairs mixed in with what looked like soap scum from the shaving process.  And the smell from the liquid that soaked the entire mass almost made Jan gag even after everything she’d been through that far.

       “I know you’re hungry, so eat it or we’ll beat it, then you’ll eat it,” Sister Birches announced.  Each bent to the ground and began to eat.  Sister Flogger walked behind them, encouraging ‘heartier eating’ with her nasty little black Cat as they plowed through the so-called food.  Jan was choking down the mess, wondering how she’d get the little scraps that she saw in the dirt in front of her, knowing that her face was smeared with it, too.  She worked her lips and tongue and tried to get every awful scrap.  Sister Birches stepped in to help.

       “Up, all of you, Position Nine, present those tits,” she ordered.  “Now, pair off, each of you, face each other, and pinch up the partner’s nipples.”  They formed four pairs and each reach out to take the other’s nipples between thumb and forefinger.  “Pinch ‘em harder, and pull ‘em wider,” she added.  Then Sister Flogger joined in.

       “Now, keep hold of those, lean in and lick the slop off the partner’s face, quickly, now!”  Jan was paired with the older woman, the one with small tits but large nipples.  They leaned in together, the woman working her lips and tongue all over Jan’s face as she did the same.  Her fingers relaxed across Jan’s nipples as she licked.  Jan eased her own fingers a bit when a birch rod slammed down across her right breast and both women pinched harder and kept up the licking.

“All right, faces should be clean.  Line up again, Position Ten,” Flogger commanded. The scullery slut stood at the end of the line with the bucket of vile liquid.  The she came down the line, stopping at each woman and grabbing her by the hair, stuffing her face into the bucket.

       “Now, a little extra drink will help you wash down all that good food,” Flogger smirked.  “Get those faces down and come back up with a nice big mouthful of water and hold it.  You will swallow it when I say.”

       After holding the liquid in their open mouths for what seemed a really long time, they were told to swallow it all down, then herded back to the sandbox where they were given another session of Position Drills, sit ups and pushups.  The sweat had dripped away the most of the shit caked on their bodies but now they were coated with a film of sandy grit as their thighs and hamstrings strained through holding the Quad position for nearly five minutes.

       “Now, hold that position and follow me,” Sister Birches said as she set off across the sand to an area near the compound’s gate.  The midday sun was brutal and the castor oil added to the oatmeal was working its way through everyone’s intestines as they lurched across the compound.  Jan saw the heat waves shimmering off a disc of black asphalt with yellow circles and red lines painted on it. 

       “Keep moving,” Flogger herded them with her black stiff flogger.  “Give me a lineup in the center on the red line.”  The pavement was so hot Jan felt like she could barely touch it with her hands.  And her feet were in agony.  They formed a line, still holding the Quad position.  “Now, all of you, face down flat,” Flogger ordered.  Jan thought her thighs and boobs would fry in the searing heat of the pavement beneath her.  At least we’re facing away from the sun, she thought. 

       “Up, Position Five, forearms and forehead on the pavement,” Flogger called.  “And hold that for Lady Margaret’s sundial treatment.”  Jan knew then why they were faced away from the sun.  When they assumed the position five, each ass and pussy was directly in the path of the blazing sun.  “Sundial treatment, she calls it, “ giggled Sister Birches.  “Oh, and such a nice sunny day, too.”  Flogger came along the line, flicking at assholes as she walked. 

       “And who said that this is where the sun don’t shine,” she chimed in, flicking the big blonde’s ass again, “Since there’s gonna be plenty of sun here today.  Now everyone hold that position, til we come back.”  The two Sisters ambled over to a shade tree near the fence where two chairs waited along with a cart that had some strange-looking equipment on it.

       The sun seemed to bore a hole right through Jan in the half-hour she knelt there, with the oppressive heat around her about to cook all of them, or so it seemed.  The sunburn on top of welts and bruises, along with more she was sure to receive, seemed to be the worst thing yet.  For the first time she was grateful for the dirt and grime caked on her body, thinking it might screen some of the sun’s rays.  Birches thought about that, too, and moved into action.  As they knelt, Sister Birch came up behind them with one of those big super squirt guns.  She had pumped it up, and then blasted each butt and cunt, washing them down with the spray that splashed off them.

       “That will help the sun to shine right in,” Birches laughed.  “And it’s some of that piss mixture from your breakfast mixed with Pepsi, so there’s plenty of sugar in it.  That’s so good for you,” she grinned as she returned to her chair.  It wasn’t long before Jan heard the buzz of flies and felt them crawling over her hips and into her slit.  I don’t know if I can hold this position, she thought.  The whine of a wasp or hornet zipped past her ears as she secretly hoped it would land on somebody else’s butt.   I really don’t know how long I can take this.  Somehow, they all held position until the two Sisters came back, inspecting sunburned asses and swarming flies along with the other bugs crawling over them.

       “Everyone up, move back two paces, turn and face me, then Position Seven on your backs, legs up high.”  That put them on a fresh warm patch of asphalt that scorched their welted backs as the sun continued to beat down on their cunts.  Birches pushed the cart over, and removed a series of funnels from a shelf.  Jan knew what was coming next as Birches stuck a funnel in her ass and twisted in extra tight.  But she noticed that the two biggest women didn't get a funnel but each received a black inflatable butt plug that Flogger pumped up as Birches finished placing her funnels.

       Another scullery slut appeared with two large glass pitchers filled with dark brown liquid.  She knelt and placed then at Sister Birches’ feet and removed a cheesecloth bag from each pitcher, wringing each out and squeezing it back into the container.  Birches smiled with satisfaction.  “My own special recipe for shitslut tea,” she said, “yesterday’s coffee grounds and used tea leaves, two handfuls of dried dog turds and a tall glass of Super Hot Sauce, all steeped in the sun for several hours.  So let’s pour some tea, slut.”

       “Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress,” the slut replied, getting to her feet and approaching the line of funnels.  She began to pour a generous amount into each one.  When she reached the slim and pale-skinned redhead, Birches indicated that she should receive some extra ‘tea.’  Then Jan felt the heat of the brew that had been steeping in the sun all morning as it coursed into her colon.

       “Make sure she gets some extra, too,” Flogger directed, pointing at Jan.  “And since our two special guests don’t deserve a tea enema, just give them a good drink of it.

Open up and hold it there,” as she pointed at the two larger women with plugged asses.

       

After holding the vile and burning brew for several minutes, Jan and the others were severely cramped, but they held on.  Sister Flogger was directing the two scullery sluts in laying out hemp ropes on the asphalt pad.  She then ordered the two fatties to crawl to the area and lie down on their right sides, facing each other.  With the Cat, she slapped and swatted them to come together so that each had her face at the other’s crotch.  Grabbing each by the hair and swinging a fat thigh out of the way, she positioned each head in a scissor lock of the partner’s legs, then directed the two sluts to bind the legs together, trapping the partner’s        face.  Next. Flogger took the two ropes that had been stretch out on the pad and were now under the two bodies.  She tied a loop in one end of each, slipping the other end through and around the two torsos, knotting each off.  She then took the excess rope and after having the two sluts pulls the fatties’ arms around each other’s legs, she wrapped the ends around the wrists and forearms.  She tossed a roll of duct tape down to the sluts.

       “Tape the rope with four wraps on each wrist,” she said, “if anything comes loose, well, you know the drill, sluts.”  Flogger tapped her thigh with the Cat.  When they sluts had finished their task, the two were curled up together, tied tightly into a Sixty-Nine.  Flogger tapped each on the head with the handle of the Cat.  “Open up and bite a big mouthful of cunt hair,” she demanded, “and when I say ‘pull,’ I wanna see heads pulling back and really yanking that hair,” she grinned, winking over at Birches.

       Meanwhile, Birches had removed the funnels from asses.  “Hold it in until otherwise ordered,” she said.  “Now, hold those asses closed and get up!  Make a circle around these two here,” she said indicating the two bound women. “Now, turn around and squat over them.  On my whistle you will all SHIT!”

       Flogger stepped up to the circle.  “And on my whistle, you will all stop the shit flow.”  Birches blew her whistle and the six women clustered around the other two let go with sincere relief, expelling jets of brown liquid and pasty masses that had been roiling in their guts all morning.  The cramps combined with the burning sensation of all the nasty ingredients of the tea party enema made Jan almost keel over in pain, but she knew the consequences of that would be worse than her present discomfort.  Then Flogger blew her whistle and the six struggled to contain themselves.

       “Turn around, smear it around real good,” Flogger ordered,  “then turn them over so we can coat the other side.”  The six struggled to roll the bound pair over to their left sides.  “Now circle up again, squat and wait for the whistle.”  They complied, but Sister Birches seemed to be taking her time and enjoying the building discomfort of the six as they hovered over the other two.  Finally she blew the whistle and gasps and grunts accompanied the sounds of six huge enemas expelled onto the bound pair.

After they were allowed to expel the contents on the hapless pair, the six remained squatting over them while Flogger and Birches debated which one should have the pug released first.  They decided to flip a coin, with Flogger making the blonde’s choice.  She chose heads, and the coin came down tails.

       “Too bad for the blonde thing,” Flogger said with some mock dismay,  “she gets to start on the bottom.  Turn them, blonde down on her back,” she ordered.  The six positioned the two women so that the blonde’s face was directly under the ample ass of the brunette.  Birches put on a rubber glove and deflated the butt plug, pulling it out with a plopping sound.  The stream of shit exploded from the woman, covering the blonde’s face and puddling all around her on the hot asphalt.  “HOLD them in position!” Flogger screamed the six, “and move in CLOSER!”   As they complied, they couldn’t help but get into the mess themselves.  Jan knew it be even messier when they were ordered to flip the pair for the blonde’s turn on top.  And messier it was.

After having the six untie the two others, all were lined up to stand at attention in Position One.  At least only my feet are burning on this hot pavement, Jan thought.  But the sun was still brutally hot as the two Sisters relaxed in the shade.  Their laughter and giggles were interrupted by the arrival of a golf cart driven by the trainer from their arrival night, Sister Cane.  She had two naked slaves attached behind her, in the brackets usually used for golf club bags.  There was an ominous looking black canvas bag on the seat beside her and a tank of some sort mounted on the floorboard.

       “Welcome, dear Sister,” Birches called out to her as she pulled up to the shade trees.  “Have some iced tea?”

       “Love to, Sisters” she replied, as she climbed out of the cart and pointed to the two sluts in the back.  “You cunts, get the buckets ready.”  She sat down with the other two Sisters as the two slaves unbuckled themselves and came around to the container on the floor of the cart, each carrying a bucket. They opened the top of the tank, dipped the buckets in and began sloshing water across the asphalt that was spread with the stains from all eight enemas.  The three women ambled over to the edge of the pad.

       “You will clean up our little pay area,” Birches said, an evil grin on her face.

“And these are just the tools to do it.”  She moved to the bag and pulled out a rough scrub brush about the size of Jan’s foot.  It had a metal pipe about two feet long mounted on the wooden back with a crossbar on top, along with a threaded fitting.  Birches reached into the bag and pulled out a bristle brush, like a huge bottlebrush and screwed it into the metal fitting. 

       “You slut, come here and show them how to use this,” Sister Cane called to one of the slaves who had just thrown another bucket of water across the asphalt.  The slut came over, took the brush and carefully squatted over it, inserting the bristle brush up her cunt and settling her crotch onto the crossbar and holding it with one hand in front and the other behind her. “Now scrub!” she ordered, as the slave began to move the brush back and forth across the pavement, her knees in a deep squat and her feet spread wide to allow the swing of the brush.

       “Now, pull it out and you two get them all fitted up,” Cane ordered.  “And which two get the specials?”  Flogger pointed to the two large women.  “I’ll fit them myself,” she said.

       The slaves fitted each of the six with the brushes and crossbars, jamming the bristles up into cunts as they did.  Each vertical pipe also had a telescoping adjustment, Jan discovered, so that the height could be set for maximum discomfort.  She also realized that the crossbar was studded with sharp little knobs so that any motion along it would increase the pressure and pain.  Meanwhile, Flogger had fitted the other two with the “special” brushes.  These had a penis-shape about seven inches long extending from the back of the brush with a strap to buckle around the head and hold it in place.

       “OK, let’s clean this place up!” Sister Cane yelled, swinging her stick in every direction as she walked down the line.

       

To be continued.