Chapter 10
Beth made a phone call, put on her robe, and when someone opened the
door she left. I spent a tearful day going over and over everything that had
happened, realizing finally that my 'transformation' into a blossoming flower
was not quite the reality it had seemed in the middle of my first orgasm.
Dr. Franks stepped into my room late in the afternoon, along with a
woman wearing one of the 'guard' uniforms. He was more stiff in manner and
seemed distracted. He took a chair and with no preliminaries asked, "Were you
directed to wear that robe?" I shook my head no, and he said, "Then take it off
and assume the proper position for a slave."
I guess some progress had been made, because I followed his order and
dropped the robe on the bed, feeling less embarrassment at my nudity. I was at
a loss as to what was meant by the 'proper position,' and since I wasn't
permitted to speak, I just stood with my arms at my sides.
He shook his head, mumbling something with Beth's name in it, then said,
"On your knees, spread them wide and clasp your hands behind your head, elbows
back." Now I did blush again, and this time I ignored the rules.
I let my temper flair, "I won''t try to reason with a bunch of perverts,
but I'll be damned if you can make me cooperate in my own debasement. You can
all go to hell!"
He stood without a visible reaction on his features, then said, "Be
ready at six o'clock. Wear nothing but the robe, a pair of socks and sneakers."
As he left he said to his attendant, "Round up the treatment team; meeting in my
office at five."
Knowing I had done a stupid thing, I used the bidet to clean myself out,
bathed and dressed as required. At six I was taken. The route seemed familiar
and in due course we arrived at the room with the stage. This time there was a
curtain concealing the stage floor, and as we entered there were only a handful
of people present. A few curious glances were the only reaction I received, and
in moments we passed through the curtain.
Toward one side two posts stood about six feet apart, adorned with cuffs
and ropes high and low on each post. Slightly off center toward the other side
was an odd looking table with padding on top. I shrank against the two huge
blacks, but they propelled me to the posts. Stripping off the robe, they
overcame my resistance and soon had the fleece lined cuffs secured to my wrists
and over the folded down white socks on my ankles. I felt more naked wearing
white sneakers and socks than I would have stark naked.
I was acutely conscious of my bald pussy as they set about tightening
the ropes. With their enormous strength they soon had me suspended a foot off
the floor with my arms and legs pulled wide. They left me hanging like a living
X, and after they left me alone on the stage, seconds seemed like hours as the
pain in my wrists, arms and shoulder grew almost unbearable.
The curtain finally rose to excited voices in the audience, many more
than were there when I arrived. I was groaning steadily, panting to catch
enough air in my lungs, and writhing in my bonds in a futile search for a way to
ease my suffering.
Finally, Beth came on stage, seemingly in the custody of two giant,
muscular black men and a stunning Amazon of a black woman. Beth wore a white
garter belt, matching nylons and strapped, open toe heels. The men were naked
but for cream colored mid calf motorcycle boots and skimpy tan thongs. Their
obviously large genitals would have appeared less obscene naked. The woman wore
only a sort of tan leather loin cloth, leaving her small breasts bare. Looking
like a contestant in a woman's body building contest, she carried a vicious
looking whip about five feet long.
The spotlights suddenly bathed my body as a booming announcer's voice
filled the room, "Ladies and gentlemen, our early show features a new slave in
training, Jan, and her wayward trainer, Beth. Beth has been dismissed as Jan's
trainer due to poor intake and indoctrination. Of more serious note, she has
compromised the case by making love to the slave without the advice of the
treatment team; after she had been removed from the team. Her unprofessional
relationship has put her continued employment as a recruiter/trainer in
question. After further review and evaluation a decision will be made, and her
performance tonight will be given weight in the decision.
"Slave Jan is, at twenty eight, still a virgin. Beth has been assigned
the task of persuading her to beg to be fucked. If successful, our two stalwart
attendants will be given the task of deflowering both her cunt and her asshole.
If Beth is unsuccessful, she shall be available for punishment during the
remainder of slave Jan's stay with us, then expelled from her position with Dare
to Grow. Let these proceedings commence."
I couldn't take my eyes off the whip, which was now in Beth's hand. My
heart was pounding and my stomach doing flip flops as she approached me. Her
eyes welled with tears, looking into mine. I felt the pain in them and was
shaken. Did she really care for me? Almost reverently she knelt in front of
me and stretched her mouth to my crease, going immediately to my protruding
clitoris.
In moments I was jerking against the ropes, passionately aroused,
despite the audience and the knowledge of my impending beating. She had learned
when my orgasm was near during our night of love making, and she took me right
to the edge. I realized in that moment that I did have a new master, and it was
my clitoris. Beth pulled her mouth away and stood.
"Uh, no, please finish me," I whined. The first blow of the whip
striped across the cheeks of my ass. "Eeeeooagh, . . Nooooo. My plea was cut
short by the next taste of the whip's tail against the small of my back, the tip
wrapping around to burn the side of my belly. I almost peed.
I felt my mind moving into an unfamiliar place within, and the next kiss
of the whip was somehow different blazing across the backs of my thighs. There
was vaguely awareness that my clitoris still throbbed with the pressure of
erection, not in the least discouraged by the unspeakable pain.
The strips of fire on my backside merged with the molten tremors
coursing through my sex, making my nipples stand out for attention. A primal
force rose toward the level of awareness, bringing me a place of refuge from the
outrageous assault, a place where the pain became a gift to my long denied
sexual needs.
My voice still echoed through the hushed room, but the screams carried a
note of arousal in addition to the pain. Beth moved from my back to my front,
resuming my punishment within brief seconds. This time, when the lash crossed
above my pubic arch, my pussy answered with a gush of fluid. I felt the tiny
muscles around my clit spasm as a bolt of ecstacy spread from the pulsing
finger. "Uuuhhg,. . Uuugh." The next blow was just under my shaking breasts.
"Yes, go there, . . eeeahh, . . give it . . give me, . . MY TITS, DO IT."
The first strike missed my distended nipples, but the second kissed my
left nipple with a delicious agony that shot like lightening straight to my core
of arousal. A tidal wave of completion curled my toes and made my head thrash
about, with every part of me in between convulsing with glorious pleasure. "YES,
yes, I want your cocks, . . fuck me, make me a woman." Even after the whipping
ended I writhed and moaned, then slumped in the ropes, only half conscious.
