CHAPTER XIX Midsummer
The sun beat down incessantly, seeming to focus much of it's heat on the slut's
cunt, barely concealed behind the little thong bottoms that Miss Karen required
her to wear for each daily sunning session. They lasted ninety minutes and
involved six different positions. The slut was required to hold each for fifteen
minutes. Her current position, spread-eagled on her back, was always a
challenge. It felt as though her pussy were basting in it's own juices, and her
exposed nipples were casting long shadows over the upper part of her breasts.
She had been tanning like this every day that weather permitted for the past
four weeks. Her tan was very dark and rich, and it contrasted nicely with her
platinum blonde hair. Miss Karen was very particular when it came to her tan
lines, and insisted that she be exceptionally careful to ensure they were
distinct. Slut always looked forward to laying out. While she couldn't sleep,
it did provide an opportunity for her to rest, adjust her thoughts, and daydream
a bit.
The weeks since school ended seemed to have flown by. She was kept busy every
minute of every day, performing all of the home, lawn, and pool maintenance, as
well as the cleaning, laundry, and cooking responsibilities for both of Miss
Karen's homes. She had been trained to serve as Miss Karen's personal assistant
as well. This involved bathing, helping Miss Karen dress and undress, applying
her makeup and brushing her hair, and any other assignment Miss Karen might
require. Aside from her own rigorous exercise program and the time she had to
devote to maintaining her appearance, she was also responsible for the care and
cleanliness of her sister.
She continued to carry feelings of guilt over the fate of her sister. On that
fateful evening when Miss Karen helped her decide how to rid herself of her
loved ones, she had said she didn't care what happened to Megan. As she now
knew, she had been unknowingly licking her sister's pussy as part of her
training. Megan had already been captured by Miss Karen and was, at that time,
being held against her will.
Slut felt lucky that she hadn't suffered the same fate as Megan, or candi, as
she was now called. Miss Karen was using candi much differently than she was
using slut, and candi's life was a miserable one. Slut felt wholly responsible
for it. Granted, candi had already been taken by the time slut said she didn't
care what happened to her, but nothing would have happened to her if slut hadn't
allowed her to come visit in the first place. She also wouldn't have been taken
if slut hadn't been such a whore in her old life, allowing Miss Karen to
blackmail her.
She remembered how she was licking and sucking enthusiastically at the tasty
cunt that Miss Karen used to train her when her blindfold was suddenly removed
and she could see that it was actually Megan. She hadn't recognized her at
first because the angle of view obscured Megan's tattoos, and she didn't look
like herself with her head shaved and all the piercings. Megan looked down at
slut in a sort of detached way that was very disturbing. What was most
distressing was what Miss Karen had said; "Who's a cuntlicker now, slut?" It
meant Megan had told Miss Karen of all the abuse slut had forced upon her
adopted little sister as they were growing up. She would have known about the
hours that slut sat on Megan's face, forcing her to pleasure her in exchange
staying silent about Megan's sexuality. She would have known how slut tied her
up and whipped her, and about all the cruel things she had said about her in her
presence. She would know that slut really had been a bad person in her old
life.
She recalled almost gagging at the realization that the tables had, in a way,
been turned and that she had been licking her former victim's cunt. She was
repulsed by the thought, and tried vainly to turn away from her task. Miss
Karen forced her to continue her training and even made it worse by requiring
her to make Megan cum. This was done by fastening alligator clips to slut's
nipples until she decided to start licking again. Slut resisted for only a few
seconds longer, finding the pain more unbearable than the trauma of licking her
own sister's bald, pierced cunt.
Slut was required to manage candi without compassion of any kind. She was often
referred to as a "pig", "piggie", or "lawn pig", and was prevented from speaking
or uttering any sound whatsoever. Miss Karen had plans for candi, and was
training candi for some specific use that slut didn't want to know about. Slut
had seen candi being injected with drugs and knew she was being subjected to
some sort of programming while she slept or was otherwise idle. Slut had been
told to put headphones on her in the past but knew that whatever was playing
wasn't music. Candi's personality was not Megan's. Candi was really more of an
animal than a human. All of the spark that had so annoyed slut earlier in her
life was gone out of the person that, she supposed, was still her sister. She
had gleaned what little details she knew from a telephone conversation her owner
had with a friend. That friend was soon to come for a visit, which was
unsettling to slut.
Slut had sold or disposed of all of her remaining possessions except a few
clothes and shoes at Miss Karen's direction, and had turned over all of the
proceeds.
She had sold her house according to Miss Karen's wishes. Who actually owned it
she didn't know, but that was beyond her set of concerns anyway. Miss Karen
still maintained and used it. Slut's husband, Ray, had been sent a check for
half the ten thousand dollars profit on the sale, and had been informed that all
of his possessions had been discarded. He had no reason to come back to the
house, and his deployment would not end for another two months.
Slut had said goodbye to her lover, Ralph, after begging him to fuck her in her
ass. Out by the pool, as he sawed is big, beautiful black cock in and out of
her, she noticed Miss Karen shooting photographs through the curtains from the
house. She knew better than to mention it, and had no idea why it was
necessary. She only hoped no harm would come to Ralph.
Miss Karen had made slut disconnect the phone in case anyone she knew tried to
reach her. She had sent a letter to her mother that she was traveling to Cancun
with Megan and that it might be a long trip. She had mentioned in the letter
that she was filing for divorce from Ray.
Miss Karen had made her trade in her car for a white cargo van, then had made
her transfer the title to some other name, though Miss Karen still used it. She
had even retrieved Megan's car from a shop in Kissemee and had impersonated her
to sell it for cash. The cash had been given to Miss Karen, of course.
She had resigned her teaching position and was entirely dependent on Miss Karen
since closing all of her bank accounts and turning all of the money over to her.
Slut owned nothing and had nothing of her own. She considered herself property
and knew she had an entitlement to nothing other than what her owner permitted.
Every Thursday evening slut would drive the van to a predetermined location
where her customers would meet for their thirty dollar blowjobs. She continued
to be required to collect their sperm in the condoms Miss Karen provided, and to
deliver them home along with the cash she made. Miss Karen was preserving the
full condoms in the freezer, for what purpose slut couldn't begin to guess.
Last Thursday she had given Miss Karen nine hundred thirty dollars and thirty
two used condoms. She was still providing a free blowjob to the boy from the
warehouse store in exchange for her ever growing numbers of customers.
There were still times of nervousness and shame, especially when the boys who
wanted the use of her mouth became verbally abusive toward her. She accepted it
all, though, because she loved sucking cocks and she loved satisfying Miss
Karen. She was prohibited from having orgasm except as specifically permitted
or directed by her owner, so had to thward some of her customer's efforts to
further arouse her. She was tormented sexually. She lived in a constant desire
for sex, but was only occasionally granted an orgasm. In most cases, she was
allowed to give herself an orgasm only in a humiliating and degrading way. She
sometimes wondered when she would hit bottom, when nothing was beneath her and
she carried out every order without shame or embarassment.
Slut felt very lonely at times. Miss Karen rarely gave her any opportunity to
speak now, and she was forbidden to say anything to candi other than to issue
instructions. Her customers weren't all that interested in getting any use out
of her mouth other than milking their cocks, and she didn't have much contact
with anyone else, other than incidental contact with strangers when she was
running errands or purchasing groceries for Miss Karen. She was usually dressed
provocatively, which tended to minimize friendly conversations. She got her
share of attention from strange men but wasn't allowed to engage them in
conversation, let alone fuck or suck them, which is what any conversation would
ultimately have led to. She was insatiable for sex, not for conversation. It
would be nice, though, to have someone to talk to.
She hadn't been called by her old first name since Ralph had come to fuck her
that last time. She thought of herself now as "slut" rather than "Carol". She
hoped no one would ask her what her name was in public, because she was sure she
was likely to blurt out "slut" without thinking.
Karen was looking forward to Tawny's visit. Her close friend and sometime lover
had wanted to come a few weeks earlier but had been delayed by family matters of
some sort. She was due to arrive next week, but had called to prearrange
delivery of henry and amy. She had developed and tested a slave shipping system
and wanted for Karen to evaluate it. Karen was intrigued by the idea, but
didn't want to take delivery herself, believing the risk to be too high. But,
Tawny had finally convinced her by concocting a plan to ship her slaves to a
friend in Miami if Karen could arrange for them to be picked up. Karen had
decided it would be okay, and planned to send the slut south in the van for that
purpose.
Tawny seemed to know everyone who could be of use, and was a wonderful resource
in a number of ways. She was bringing her tatoo and branding kits, and would be
able to help Karen decide how to improve both the slut and candi. Independent
opinions were always helpful. Karen hoped, also, that she could borrow Tawny's
farm in the mountains for a few weeks before returning to duty. She was feeling
ever more claustrophobic in Florida. The farm was very large and remote. It
was a charming place to be with one's slaves.
Karen also wanted to explore breast augmentation for the slut, and hoped Tawny's
friend the plastic surgeon could do the job on short notice. She didn't think
much could be done with candi that would prove worthwhile, but was open to
suggestions.
She was planning to go to the beach with slut today, after slut's tanning
session ended. It would be a fun afternoon filled with interesting games. Slut
had begun to provide good entertainment in that she did not hesitate to follow
orders to the letter. She could be placed in interesting positions, and it was
great fun to watch her deal with different situations. Each opportunity
represented a chance for the slut to learn and grow in her servitude, and Karen
continually emphasized the need for slut to be ready for anything at any time.
Only then could she maximize her potential uses.
It was exceptionally hot out today, so Karen had opted to stay inside while slut
sunned herself. She was enjoying a nice glass of iced tea and doing a crossword
puzzle as candi exercised on the other side of the room. Karen enjoyed finding
creative ways to keep candi well toned. She obviously couldn't take the thing,
such as it was, to the local gym. She also couldn't send her out for a run
since determining that candi would not be on her feet without ballet shoes or
boots on. Typically candi was kept on all fours until some purpose arose in
which she needed to be human for a while.
Karen had locked the older pair of ballet shoes onto candi nearly an hour
earlier, and had tightly bound her wrists and elbows together behind her back.
Then, she had simply lifted her onto the seat of the stationary bike, positioned
her feet such that the pedals were forced between the heels and soles of the
shoes, and told her she needed to ride fifteen miles within the hour.
Karen smiled to herself at the effort candi was expending. She was certainly
getting a worthwhile workout today, as she did every day. Sometimes the
workouts lasted all day long, and were punctuated by breaks that involved all
manner of ingeneous torment. Karen had been surprised at how well candi had
held up on such a stringent regime, especially given the fact that her diet was
composed mainly of pig feed and an occasional dog biscuit.
She had set the timer on the microwave in the kitchen and was idly curious to
see if it went off before poor candi rode her fifteen miles. It was good for
her. Good, firming activity that helped build endurance. Endurance was
important for slaves like candi, whose value lay primarily in the degree to
which they could keep their owners entertained. A quickly tiring, out of shape
slave was a waste of time and money.
Soon enough, the timer went off. Candi was panting hard and knew better than to
stop pedaling without permission. Karen saw the fear in her eyes. She was
forbidden to speak or utter a sound, but had no trouble expressing herself at
least as far as basic needs went. Her basic need at the moment was forgiveness.
Of course, she knew better.
Karen continued working the puzzle for a few more minutes. A bit more exercise
wouldn't hurt a thing. Karen thought a just punishment might be one strike of
the dog whip for every tenth of a mile the little pig lacked. That is, unless
she actually got close to her goal. She hadn't made it past thirteen and a half
miles yet, so that was doubtful. She always gave it a valiant try, though. She
looked at her watch, anxious to get to the beach. It was the one place she
didn't mind blistering heat, and she was looking forward to wearing the new
bikini she had bought a few days earlier.
Candi's hopes sunk the second she heard the timer go off. Mistress allowed her
to ride for a few more minutes before approaching with that, "you are in
trouble" look in her eye. Once she was set back down on the floor where she
belonged, candi went about kissing and licking her owner's feet in the faint
hope for some mercy. She was an obedient little thing who tried her very best
and she knew that someday she could ride fifteen miles in an hour!
"Stop that silliness piggie!", Karen exclaimed in a bemused tone of voice. "You
know you've got to take a whipping!".
Candi instantly rose up and assumed her proper waiting/inspection position. She
held her head high, arched her back, and spread her knees widely while keeping
her arms rigid and perpendicular to the floor. She knew her owner insisted that
she be responsive, and she always tried her best to react quickly.
"Over to the column, little pig!", she was ordered.
Candi quickly crawled over to the glossy white column in the center of the
sunroom and reassumed her waiting position. Miss Karen quickly removed the
ropes that bound her wrists and elbows so tightly together. She installed
candi's heavy leather wrist cuffs, which was never a good sign. As expected,
the cuffs were locked together in front of her and raised up above her head to
be latched to the end of the rope Miss Karen kept suspended from a pully mounted
tastefully under one of the exposed roof beams. In only a few quick jerks,
candi was on her feet in front of the column. One more jerk lifted her up to
the base of the column. She had difficulting gettng a foothold on the base this
time. There was only a few square inches on either front corner that her feet
could rest on. Miss Karen held her in place until her feet steadied, then tied
off the rope as she always did to an eyelet embedded in the far wall. Miss
Karen then bound her ankles together with a piece of rope that stretched behind
the column. If her feet slipped forward she would effectively be suspended by
her wrists and most likely unable to regain her footing on the base of the
column... It was a terrible position to be in for the mere fact that the ballet
shoes forced so much pressure on her toes that any period of time standing in
them caused pain. She had spent days in them since being taken out of her old
life, but standing in them was different from simply wearing them. She knew
Miss Karen was gradually increasing her endurance to wear them while standing,
but had no idea why. She had long since stopped trying to understand any of
what was happening to her and had grown to accept what appeared to be her fate.
She barely remembered her old life now. It was gone.
"Thirteen and five tenths! Not bad for such a little animal!", Miss Karen
exclaimed enthusiastically. "So, that's only fifteen strokes." She strolled
over to a hook in the corner of the sunroom, from which hung a half dozen
different crops and light whips.
Candi watched passively. The pain of the abuse she suffered was never going to
lessen, but the emotional turmoil she used to go through leading up to a session
had been overcome. She was whipped, spanked, and cropped so routinely that her
fear of it had faded into a bleak expectation.
She remained completely motionless as Miss Karen positioned herself to the
right, preparing to strike horizontally across the front of candi's body. Candi
knew she could bear it up until the point that her breasts were whipped. At
that point she always cried and thrashed around in her bindings, instinctively
trying to deflect or avoid the next strike.
Karen was wet, as she always was prior to beginning a nice whipping. She was
disappointed the pig had made it so far on the bike. Twenty was the point at
which the thing tended to break down, so fifteen might be manageable, and that
just couldn't be. So, Karen took careful aim after deciding to start with the
breasts to liven things up at the outset, then to work her way around as she saw
fit. She knew candi could forecast her strikes and at least mentally prepare
for them, so this time she lined up as though she were going to place the first
stripe across her upper thighs. Then, just as the whip began to whistle through
the air, she brought it swiftly upward and expertly placed the across the
underside of the thing's little titties. This elicited a quick gasp on the part
of her victim, which was always a good sign. Blows two through five were aimed
slightly higher, resulting in bright red horizontal stripes across candi's
breasts from bottom to top. The creature was heaving for air by then and was
completely overtaken by the pain it was experiencing. Karen then moved down
over her flat, hard stomach, leaving three crossed welts by alternating
positions. The last was expertly positioned just above candi's bald cunt.
Karen stepped back to admire her work. She was always improving, and wondered
if somewhere there wasn't a slave whipping contest that she could win. She
laughed at the thought. Eleven down, four to go. Always interested in
symmetry, Karen decided to place two on either side of the little bitch's
upper torso, evenly spaced and beginning just under her armpits.
Through it all, as usual, candi had not uttered a sound other than involuntary
ones. Over a week earlier Karen had removed the collar she had been testing
that contracted candi's throat each time she made a noise. It had been replaced
with a simple, heavy, black dog collar. But the conditioning had held longer
than even Karen had expected it would. Candi had managed to keep her feet in
place this time, also. She hung the whip on the hook in the corner and decided
to leave the pitiful creature where it was for a while, at least until it
regained it's composure and had cooled down.
Karen noticed the slut changing positions out in the hot sun, and decided to
have another glass of iced tea while she waited the last fifteen minutes before
dressing for the beach.
