Cunt School, Part V

Each of us other cunts, in turn, were summoned to Master Tharn’s boot to show fealty.  While serving the boot, kissing and licking there, the remainder of us were required to masturbate ourselves with a free hand until we reached at least one orgasm.  women, in the presence of Men, tend to be very competitive, so we did try to outdo each other and Carleen in slavering servility.  Though Master Tharn was an older Man, He regularly took the herbs, drugs and formulae that we learned were standard for the Masters of California, which enhanced their sexual potency and recovery rates incredibly. He was, remarkably, fully erect again (we knew through sly observation) half-way through the Chinese woman’s , Lucy’s, offerings which were astonishingly avid and active. I thought the little bitch was going to lick the leather off his boots!  she writhed as she licked and rubbed her tits roughly against the carpeting to show how willing she was to hurt herself for Him and wiggled her little ass in provocative cycles that made clear she wanted what Carleen had gotten and more.  This little cunt was not going to be satisfied with the orgasms she was giving herself in full spasms as she worked for the Master’s favor.  Master Tharn, Who oversaw these actions with extraordinary aloofness and arrogance, smoking His cigar quietly and sipping a glass of wine, abruptly bade Lucy cease.  she did everything she could do to hide her disappointment at having her fourth

intense orgasm interrupted as she rose to her knees and looked up at Master Tharn looming over her. 

“you’ve not been deigned to make eye contact, bitch,” Master Tharn said in a harsh voice and to our shock He gave Lucy a sharp back of the hand (hard enough to hurt, but not at all a full blow) which sent her tumbling to the side.

“Your Master made a full and detailed report for Us, cunt,” Master Tharn continued, talking to a trembling, hurting, very submissive female lying on the carpeting.  “He says to all appearances you are the most servile and obeisant slave.  But that is just it!.  He says He is not interested in your desire to keep up appearances.  Like any real Man, He wants obeisance that is about Him and Him Alone!  you’re a fuckin’ hot cunt who really loves Prick.  But you are going to learn to serve with your ONLY thought being YOUR MASTER!  Ay has a cock dildo for you to shove in your cunt mouth.  you’ll kneel in the fucking corner over there, sucking that rubber prick and thinking about how  you can shovel that self-centered bullshit of yours out of the way and be a real woman.  You’ll kneel there until I fucking decide different.”

Lucy, stunned, crawled slowly to the corner with the huge facsimile of a penis and testicles taken into her small mouth.  There she knelt face against the wall with the cock pushed into her face by means of the wall.  Master Tharn, when He had seen His command fulfilled, snapped His fingers and beakoned  Kitty  the beautiful older woman.

Kitty got up and approached the Master with the most pure, submissive expression on her face.  she had gone very deep down, when she had seen Carleen and Lucy do their work and the harsh cruelty of the slap to Lucy had not perturbed this state of mind for her in the slightest, on the contrary it seemed to have enhanced it.  Remarkably, she devoted herself to Master Tharn’s boots with no less avidity and passion than had Lucy.  But  the quality was entirely different.  Where Lucy’s submissive pride and need for Prick was lasciviously obvious,  Kitty displayed an attitude that left it clear that every spasm of orgasm and every slaver soaked sigh was the Master’s due and not hers to own.  Kitty was in slobbering, twitching orgasm, when Master Tharn snapped His fingers for Bee to open the zippered gates of Him so that His thick, hard, cruel treasure would be available for Kitty.  Kitty rose, into an erect kneeling position, her mouth covered with her slaver, to accept with no ceremony the newly turgid Prick of the Master.  He gripped her gray hair in His fist tightly enough so it surely hurt as He shoved His hard Prick without preliminaries into her submissively offered mouth. “you are real fuckin’ set of holes,” He said in her praise.  “you are real woman who knows her fuckin’ place.”  we all saw the tears of pride on Kitty’s face now, as she was turned to the side bodily, as Carleen had been, for us to see the huge cock rape her obeisant face.

Master Tharn did not ejaculate into Kitty’s gaping mouth-place, but, after testing the wideness of her throat and her ability to accept deeply, gradually slowed His thrusting to a stop and stopped to pose, as it were, while Ay and Bee took cameras from the pretty handbags they had brought to photograph every angle of His assumption of Kitty’s mouth.  He held His slightly knee-bent pose for some time there so numerous pictures could be taken. 

With  the Master’s dismissal and  its pointed expletives,  Kitty returned to sit next to Carleen in the obscene, splay-legged, “cunt-place forward” posture that had been deigned for us.  Both the women’s cunts were swollen with passion and dripped their tribute to the Master in a visible flow. They were in submissive thrall to Him, already.  

Nancy, the short, fat, white woman of indifferent looks was next to be summoned.

she had been the quietest in the van and approached, in a low crawl, with deep solemnity, the Master’s boots, which had been wiped clean of Kitty’s copious spit and buffed quickly by Ay. As with myself, I am sure that Nancy was still affected by the beautiful obeisance shown by Kitty. 

Each bitch has her way, in submission.  Though all of us here were surely cut from the same cloth in terms of our slavish natures, each of us had our own special way to show our truth.  To a Man-Master such things would hardly matter.  Men are about the bottom line and have clarity there and that is why women desire to serve Them.  But cunts can cherish the dainty little touches in service.  (Though I myself greatly admired Lucy’s avid approach and was stunned and confused when she got the back of the hand from the Master.) 

And I also was enthralled by Nancy’s slow, languid approach.  I could see by her nearly gaping, dripping slit, that her “cuntslave” recesses had been deeply accessed by the sure Mastery of Master Tharn.  her breath was bated, as had been all the others, as she touched her tongue to the ruling black leather of His boot, putting one hand gently behind it’s back and the other to her crotch as her face hovered at His boot tops.  her obeisance was much slower paced than that of the others and as she made her slow, intent circlings of the tongue on His boot, her fingers seemed to do the same in her cunt in a coordinated movement that seemed lead by an inner control and focus that was quite obvious to Anyone/anyone. she was, of the three cunts, the most light with her touch of the boot, both in her kisses of it and in her lappings.  But rather than seeming like a tentativeness or a lack of enthusiasm, her gentle approach communicated a deep and profound respect for the Master, there, at the shiny, black boot tops, which were the symbol of His Rule. 

I came to admire and love all of my sister cunts who took lessons at the Cunt School with me , and I learned valuable things from all of them. (Always through the true Command of the Masters there).  From Nancy I learned, I think, something about femininity and its great beauty.  From her dripping cunt I could see that her ardor was no less than Lucy’s in her service. But in her was the clarity that true pleasure only comes for a woman, when her only desire is His desire.  It was a beautiful, beautiful sight to see Master Tharn, silently hand His glass to Ay and His cigar to Bee, so that He Himself could more closely witness the quiet, profoundly unassertive service of this cunt.  cunts, at their core, are about delicacy and nuance, quiet flair, and a “touch.”  I could see here that this quiet, unattractive woman had access to feminine secrets that I wanted to know.  she breathed out her one orgasm oh so lightly on His boot tops, keeping her gentle obeisant kisses flowing as her cunt began to nearly gush.  But she did not allow the deep paroxyms of her profound orgasm to distract in any way from her place at the boot.  she made a point of containing her movement in response to the force of her coming to the absolute minimum. This was true feminine abnegation and self denial.  I now knew why Master had dumped Me naked into the garage and sent me off for an education.

Master Tharn bade Nancy rise to an erect kneeling position and touched His hand to her chin to look into her eyes.  His gaze, despite His obvious attention to her work, was powerful and no less contemptuous than it had ever been.  He looked into her eyes, it seemed, for the longest time as though He were savoring her obeisant look. 

We were all surprised when He said curtly, “you’ve got a lot to fuckin’ learn bitch,” and,

snapping His fingers thrice, took some nipple clamps with weights on them from Ay and attached them to Nancy’s tit nipples.  A silent signal to Bee also brought out a cock-gag to fasten into Nancy’s mouth, buckling behind her neck.  I know now that cunt questions are irrelevant and that too much thinking is not good for a bitch, but at that time I was incredibly shocked at Master Tharn’s actions.  Now, having graduated from the Cunt School and seen its value, I completely understand the extraordinary skill of the Masters of California and know with no doubt that they NEVER miss when they are nailing a bitch.  He knew what He was doing.

Nancy accepted Master Tharn’s painful clamps on her tits with great grace and took the penis gag in her mouth with the same quiet manner that she had shown in her obeisance.

Nancy returned to her seat, as directed by Master Tharn.  her very reaction itself to what was occurring further heightened my respect for her as an example, because it made clear to me that my place was not to be questioning a Master’s methods, but to OBEY.

Nothing at the Master’s of California Cunt School was haphazard.  woman-training is a art that they have--- shall i use the term, “Mastered?” Each bitch’s case had been studied intensely in concert with the Master of her home and a training regimen and schedule had been designed meticulously to correct and define us to the high standards of our Masters.

“To the boot, bitch,” were the first words that Master Tharn uttered to me directly.  Truly, i had been in a daze and quickly fell to my knees to crawl to the Master’s boots.  i, like the others, was a seasoned boot-licker and, frankly, i despised the bitch vestiges of cunt will that still held me back and i didn’t merely desire, i craved to have them expunged. i did for Master Tharn what i do best.  In honor and full respect of the Man Who has made me his property, My own Master, i licked and kissed and served this proud Master’s boots.  i knew when i fell face forward to those shiny black emblems of what it is to be a Real Man that i had much more to learn than i had thought.  But it was not about Me, but about about Lane.  He deserved a housecunt who truly would honor Him and not just blindly serve.  However, my first orgasm and first tears came hardly a moment after i focused on Master Tharn’s boot tops. i licked and came and found myself weeping almost uncontrollably as i honored this cruel Master.  (These days in my home, where i am true servant, i have found that weeping and orgasm more often come together as Master subjects me to greater and great pain in His trainings so that the “bitch” will be expunged from me most thoroughly.)  i turned into an emotional mess on those boot tops. The proud women who had come before me had exposed so thoroughly my inadequacies that i felt  that, in comparison, i had nothing to offer.  i felt like i was just a self-centered little cunt who liked to pretend that she was a slave.  The tears flowed onto Master Tharn’s boot tops, while my orgasms did not cease, but seemed to be charged by the humiliation i was feeling at my shortcomings, increasing the intensity of my sexual responses.

After 10 long minutes, I heard Master Tharn laugh cruelly. 

“Fuckin’ set of holes,” he said.  “This is kind of bitch I like to fuck and hurt.”

Saying this, He unzipped Himself on His Own and knelt between My legs.

Sometimes a woman is fucked and sometimes she is just raped and this was my feeling, tears pouring from my eyes, as Master Tharn raped me, twisting and pinching my tits

as hard as He could.  i was weeping, but this became a part of an outpouring of my soul. my Master had pounded into my head, “The Prick is your Ruler!  Got it bitch!” And thus did i fully accept the huge, engorged scepter of Master Tharn into me. After the long ride in the van and watching Him set His hooks into three bitches before me which took more than two hours, not eating for too long, i felt like i was in an altered state as i went into convulsions of orgasm.  i was nearly foaming at the mouth as i declared my worthlessness before Him. “Use this worthless cunthole!” i gasped. “Rape is too good for me!” I exclaimed.  “Stomp on me like piece of shit!”  God!  I respected this cruel Master

Who knew how to act like a Man.  I was honored when He gave me a sharp backhand to the cheek and pumped His golden essence into Me. I sought only his Triumph then, only my Master’s triumph.  I wanted Them to fuck my bitch will into the oblivion it so justly deserved.  My tits and nipples hurt, my body was violated completely, my heart was ripped open by this Master’s cruelty and when he offered His signet ring to kiss before He rose from me, i  kissed it cravenly.  i am a woman, and know my fucking place.

Master beakoned me to my seat.  He strode over to the corner where Lucy knelt silently, holding the heavy cock dildo in her mouth and grabbing her by the hair dragged her across the carpet to her seat.  He took the dildo from her mouth and handed it to Bee to put back into her large, fashionable handbag.  Looking at Lucy directly, her own eyes carefully, now, averted He said, “I’m keeping My eye on you, bitch!  There’s much more than meets the eye with you.”

Lucy continued her eyes averted, gentle “girl smile” look that she had learned, but i later learned she wasn’t at all confused by what the Master had said.  There was a reason for every “arbitary” move these Masters made.

Master Tharn took off the nipple clamps from Nancy’s tits before He addressed us again.

We all sat, splay legged, “cunt-place forward.”  I was dripping His essence amidst the slop of my own passion.  All the other cunts had engorged, dripping cunt lips, ready for a Man.

(As it turned out, three of us were post-menopausal and Lucy took a special Chinese drug for this stay that prevented menstruation.)

“Well, it’s four o’clock.  Each of you will get a muffin to eat.  That will be it for the day.

you’ll eat no more.  Once you’ve eaten your muffin in the dining room and had a drink of water, Ay and Bee will lead your first class--- a somewhat short one before you go to an early bed. Oh—and Bee, get the mouth gag off this bitch.  I’m tired of looking at it.”

With this Bee removed Nancy’s mouth gag and we were left in the hands of Ay and Bee.

we followed Ay and Bee into a small lunch room, down a hall, where they offered us a small muffin.  We all were dazed and ravenous.  We drank the water given greedily as

we tried to screw on our heads back on.  we remained naked for this.

Once we had finished our meager dinner we were lead into a “classroom” of the Cunt School.   Along the sides of the walls on the north and south, looking forward to the east wall where the blackboards were, there was a supply of the necessary accoutrements for the cunts who would come here.  On  the one wall were many shelves with an endless supply, it seemed of women’s garments, footwear and other accoutrements, supplemented by wooden boxes labeled so it was clear that they held further treasures of the same sort.  On the opposite wall were the more kinky types of equipment: leather hoods, gags, chains, ropes, clamps of various sorts and other miscellaneous equipment. The seats in this small classroom which seated about 10 were specially designed with large cock dildoes molded into the regulation, shaped fiberglass school seats.  Those in the front row had been generously lubricated. The four of us cunts were bidden to slide ourselves down on these large dildoes which left us all impaled, uncomfortably (but not unpleasurably) upon the seats. 

Ay and Bee did not act like dominants who were standing over us.  Nor did they have the air of helpful friends, for the most part.  Their assignment was clearly to further their Master’s teachings, through personal example and understanding.  Ay and Bee both stood

in the front of the room before us meticulously dressed in the dress code of the Masters of California.  Wordlessly they opened their blouses to show the difficult corsets that cinched their waists.  They showed us the frilly, nipple-less bras that they wore.  They showed us, by lifting their skirts, the frilly slips and the very frilly crotchless panties that they wore and the garters of the corsets and showed  the hose that were the preference of these Masters.  They opened their purses to do a full make-up before us, also wordlessly, that showed how skillfully they had learned to put on a woman’s face.  Following this they sat to repaint already immaculately done long fingernails, finely sculpted.  Finally, they modeled, in a sense, their high heels for us to show that they were absolutely scuffless and had no wear markings on the bottoms whatsoever.  They also showed us the five rings they wore on each hand, elaborate jewelry, and pointed, silently, to the long, heavy glamour style earrings they wore.  They gestured to their hair which seemed laquered so it never moved out of place.  It was the “expensive whore” look.  And this would be, once we had been properly taught, our look for as long as our Masters deigned.

Ay and Bee would be admired, sometimes secretly,  by most women who didn’t call themselves feminists.  Often women will pretend to hate a cunt who is too perfect in her presentation, but this usually disguises a jealousy that they themselves do not take the time.  Other women frankly admire even whores in their looks and think about being that way--- if the occasion or the right Man emerged.  Most cunts don’t dress properly simply because they are not commanded to do so.  Ay and Bee, moving in the most languid and feminine way, went to the side of the room and got out several pairs of high heels which

they brought to the front of the room.  As it turned out these were shoes that we cunts would be wearing every day and every night (except for “begged release”) from then on.

They were sized for us.

Ay, who was the older one belonging to Master Tharn, spoke with remarkable sweetness. she was short and stocky and of medium attractiveness under her thick make-up and well designed outfit. her tits were large enough but not especially impressive and what figure she showed was obviously due to the tight corset that managed to bring in a rather too ample waist so she showed some curve. she was fiftyish, but clearly her hair had been kept very black to please her Master.   she had been superceded in her relationship with her husband by the young, blonde cunt, Bee, who stood on the other side of the oblong table facing us, but there was no sign of this in Ay’s demeanor.   she showed a self-assurance and satisfaction in her role that we all could admire.  she kept her smile sweet and her movement very feminine and attractive, more like a doll, it was true, than a flesh and blood woman.  she gave us a speech about submission and about the significance of high heels for the Masters of California that I shall never forget:

Girls, a woman belongs in her place.  To satisfy the Prick and Whim of a real Man is a privilege that does not come to the smart-mouthed bitch.  It belongs to the one who has learned true womanliness. i am an obedient cunt. my body and will are the play place and recreation room for Master Tharn.  i am the cunt doormat He strides upon in His castle.  i am His property.  i am proud. i  know womanliness. you, who have been given to this Cunt School by strong Masters--- you can understand how this completes me and fulfills me in every way.  my Master made me into a real woman and I seek to enhance His Pride in helping other cunts learn their lessons, perfectly. 

The Masters of California put women in very high heels and keep them there. i myself have worn high heels nearly 24 hours a day for the last 10 years.  This is Their and Master Tharn’s philosophy: a woman who wears low heeled shoes, except when required, is a bitch.   (Do you know Master Tharn has even got a nurse cunt under His control who has gotten her supervisors to allow her to wear white high heels in the hospital?)  The teaching of the Masters is the following: women are cunts to be fucked and nothing more; if this is the case, then, they must look the part.  No dress-down, bitch jeans or comfortable clothes.  cunts and comfortable clothes are like a fish with bicycles. A cunt is a pretty place for a Prick, a dressed-up fuck spot for a real Man. 

High heels, in the view of  real Men, make a woman look like the whore she is and restrict her walk and shape her movement to please Men.  Master says that the toes must hurt and must be closed and pointed in honor of His power.  Master says that the arches must be high and must hurt to show Who’s Rule is honored.  Master says the heels must be very high so the walk is controlled and shows bondage to the Master.  Black is the whore color, so the best high heels are black, He says. whores are a shiny trinket for Man use, so high heels must be shiny black to make the point.  The best prostitutes wear thin tapered heels on their shoes, so the heels must be thin and tapered.  All other notions of high heels are not allowed for the Masters of California and for this Cunt School. So they are to be forgotten.  my Master often gags my mouth with the toe of a tied-in high heeled shoe to show me their importance to Him.  He will shove the thin heel in my cunt or ass and sometimes tie them in there to make the same point.  i, as a slavecunt, kiss and lick the high heels that show my Master’s liege each day and savor the pain they bring me.

Gently and femininely Ay and Bee took our pristine high heels, black leather, traditional pumps with thin 4 1/2 inch heels and closed, pointed toes and put them on each of us, as we perched increasingly uncomfortably on the “dildo seats” we sat upon. The moment this was done, Master Tharn appeared from a side door.  Ay and Bee bowed, as he strode forward, to kiss and lick His boots. 

“Well, it’s 6:30.  The cunts are going to sleep now.”  Whereupon He bade us stand up from the dildo seats we had sat on for about an hour and directed us to another doorway.  The doorway lead to a large, completely empty garagewhich had considerable dust and dirt on the concrete surface. 

“you bitches are going to sleep tonight on this concrete,” He said in His authoritative way.   “The high heels stay on all fucking night.  And I want them kept up off the concrete so there is not fucking insulting scuff on them in the morning.  We are looking for ‘cuntdolls’ here.  We are really not  interested in bitches who are so self-centered as to come to us in scuffed or dirtied high heels.  Needless to say, there will be no touching of any wall in here, either bodily or with a shoe,” thus came His cruel and unfair declaration.  All of us were going to “sleep” naked on the  concrete and keep His high heels off the pavement for the duration or suffer the consequences.