BDSM Library - Learning the Dance

Learning the Dance

Learning the Dance

Archetype

The noblest of men have thoughts that would scare the Devil himself.

Prologue

“Christ!” thought Michael Sharpe. “What do I do now?”

Michael was watching the e-vids on his mail terminal. The face on the screen expressed sympathy but the words were clear -- someone else had been offered the teaching position at Oberlin College, and had accepted. Michael's last chance at an academic job had just disappeared.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Michael leaned away from the screen and closed his eyes. The last four years - all his efforts - all the crap he had taken from his advisors - the money he had spent - all of it collapsed into a black despair. “What the fuck do I do now?”

Three months earlier Michael had been in a better mood. He had just been awarded his PhD in Psychology at the University of Toronto and the prospects of a job had seemed bright. All his interviews had gone well, and he had been invited out to several campuses for visits. The visits had gone well. But when the department head contacted him afterwards, it had always been a prerecorded e-vid: “Sorry - no job for you.”

“Fuck!” Michael got up to leave. He had no place in mind. As he walked out through the door his terminal binged with the sound of an incoming message. He stopped, looked at it, and decided to go back.

The screen came up with the secure mail logo and prompted him for his security code. This was weird. He almost never got secure mail. He entered his code and the screen flashed briefly, resolving into a simple typed message: “Please meet Mr. Dominic D'Attillio at Le Caveau Restaurant at 12:00 noon today for lunch. It is a matter of some importance.”

Michael stared at the screen. Dominic D'Attillio? He had never heard of the guy. Typing swiftly, he brought up the mail headers for more information, but the sender's address was hidden. His curiosity aroused, he started typing faster, attempting to discover more about the message. Michael's four years at graduate school had left him with some skills at the computer, but nothing had prepared him for what he found out next. Nothing. Within ten seconds the message file itself had disappeared, leaving no trace. Michael was left staring at the screen, astonished.

It was this electronic vanishing act, as much as anything, that convinced him to go to lunch.

An Interesting Lunch

Michael arrived exactly on time at the restaurant dressed in the suit he had bought for his job interviews. “Might as well use it for something,” he had thought. He knew the restaurant, but had never been inside before. All he really knew was that he couldn't afford to eat there.

A very large man approached him immediately. Michael decided to speak first. “I was asked to meet a Mr. D'Attillio here today at noon. Is he here?”

The man's face remained impassive, but his eyes softened as they examined Michael. Certainly the man had been expecting him, and Michael thought he saw something in his eyes -- respect? It was strange. The man bowed imperceptibly and said: “I will take you to him. Please follow me.”

Michael was led toward the back of the room. He saw that the place was fairly crowded -- mostly with couples but there were a few larger groups of what could be executives at lunch. Finally they stopped in front of a table near the back wall at which were seated a man and a woman. The large man pulled out a chair and gestured with his hand for Michael to take a seat.

“Doctor Sharpe.” said the man at the table, with a smile. “Welcome. Please sit down. I am Dominic D'Attillio.” He did not get up, but stretched out his hand and shook Michael's warmly.

“I'm pleased to meet you.” Michael replied. He felt better at the genuinely warm welcome. As he began to sit in the offered chair he looked across the table at the woman, making to reach out his hand to her as well. Something made him stop. A flood of sensations went through him at that point. This woman was gorgeous. She was also -- it was the only word -- expensive. Her blond hair was intricately curled on top of her head with several long strands hanging down each side of her face. And her face itself was stunning – aristocratic. The skin was soft and creamy, and her lips were delicate but still full and sensuous. Her eyes remained downcast, and he could not see them.

She was dressed in a light blue tailored suit that even Michael could tell was made for her. The jacket covered her right up to the neck, where it ended in a collar that ringed her throat. But Michael could not look down. He kept staring at the girl’s face because he had just realized that below her neck the blue fabric was held out by an incredible pair of breasts. He could not look at them directly, here in public, in front of two men he had barely met. But there was a sudden blaze in his crotch that he fought to control followed swiftly by a surge of anger at the weakness he felt.

He became aware of the sitting man's eyes watching him. Shaking his head slightly, he forced his gaze down to the table, and then looked at Dominic. He was still half standing. But no words came out, and he must have looked quite helpless.

Dominic's eyes sparkled and his smile turned into a wide grin. “You must excuse me,” he said. “Doctor Sharpe, this is Miss Mandy Grey.” Michael looked back at the vision seated across from him and this time he did reach out his hand. Dominic spoke again softly: “Mandy, you may greet Doctor Sharpe.”

The girl's eyes rose to focus on his and Michael was again transfixed. Her eyes were large and dark and her gaze direct - even childlike - but Michael could also see that she was agitated. He realized the girl was very nervous – she was perhaps even more nervous than he at this point. Why? Why would she be anxious about meeting him?

She spoke, and her voice was soft: “I am very pleased to meet you, Sir”. Michael was hypnotized by the delicate movements of her lips. Then their hands met, and her fingers moved lightly over his before grasping him briefly. The touch electrified his fingers even as she withdrew her hand and placed it in her lap once again.

Michael's crotch was on fire and his ears were ringing. It took a real effort to calm down. Finally he sat and looked at Dominic. His tone was formal. “I must thank you for this invitation. But you have me at a great disadvantage. Why am I here?”

Dominic smiled again and raised both his hands in a gesture of friendly apology. “Doctor Sharpe, I know a great deal more about you than you can imagine. I know you are looking for a position, and by the end of lunch today I am going to offer you something that I am sure you will find most attractive. Please relax. It will take some time to explain, and the food here is excellent. There are a great many things here that you do not understand.”

“Well, that part is certainly correct.” Michael reached for his napkin.

“It is. Let me start at the beginning. You were born and raised in here in Toronto by your mother, who died three years ago. This is correct?”

Michael nodded, not really surprised that someone who could make an e-vid disappear could also find out information that would be widely available on the hyperweb.

“You never met your father.” Dominic was looking at him closely.

Michael just shrugged. “It's true.”

“Michael, this will sound very strange. But you have met your father. You are looking at him.”

Michael sat back. He didn't believe it, necessarily, but it was a shocking thing to hear even so. “You?” He began to examine the man's face more closely, and listened more carefully to the sound of his voice.

“I'm afraid so. Your mother worked for me many years ago, and she became pregnant. She managed to -- ah -- she left my employ before I knew about you, and it took me some time to find her. She was an intelligent woman, your mother. Very smart. And very beautiful.”

Watching him, Michael was beginning to believe that it might be possible.

“Yes, she was. But she never said anything about you. She told me my father had died before I was born. And that we were living off his insurance for many years.”

“Well, that was not true. Your mother loved you, and brought you up well. Once I discovered where she was and that she had a child, I found ways to provide for her and for you. I don't know why - it is a bit out of character for me.” Michael saw a strange look in Dominic’s eyes at that point, and his own narrowed slightly. “Then, two years ago I began to take a new interest in you. I am now in a position to help you again.”

Dominic sat back suddenly as the waiter arrived. “But this is all a bit much to learn at once. Here is our first course.” Both of them were silent as they were served. After the waiter left Dominic began to speak again, and as the time passed Michael began to form the opinion that he was telling the truth. It was clear that Dominic was a strange man, and held many secrets. But Michael was a complicated man himself, and he trusted his instincts.

Michael was insatiably curious about the woman who sat quietly across from him, and he managed to examine her on more than one occasion. He learned little. Not once did she speak or raise her eyes. Dominic made no attempt to include her in the conversation, although he did look at her quite openly from time to time. The girl received no food, and her hands remained in her lap. Yet her posture was confident. Her back was straight and she appeared almost to be thrusting her breasts forward. She sat like a doll on display. Michael at first was uncomfortable with this – he had never been in a group where one person was so clearly subordinate to another. But he could not ignore the blaze in his crotch.

By the time dessert arrived, Michael was beginning to believe that Dominic really could be his father. This realization led to no great emotion in Michael. He had never had a father, and never expected to have one. This man was interesting, but the fact that he might be his father was somehow irrelevant. It was the girl sitting across the table that continued to excite and interest him. He began to wonder what would happen next.

“Michael, I said that at the beginning of lunch I was in a position to offer you something of great interest. This offer is very hard to describe -- you will have to be shown what is involved. But I know enough about you and I have learned enough from meeting you to trust this decision.”

“What offer? You will have to tell me more than this.”

“Yes, of course, and I will. But not now. You will have to come to my home and there you will see what is involved.”

Michael stared at him for a moment. “Well, yes of course I will be pleased to come to your home. But surely you can tell me something more.”

It was Dominic's turn to stare. Then he said simply: “I would like you to take over my business.”

With an air of finality, Dominic motioned to the large man who had been standing nearby the whole time. The man swiftly moved behind and helped him to his feet. Once standing, Dominic motioned to the girl, who also stood. Dominic took her hand and the three of them turned to leave.

“Wait, please. Where is you house? When should I arrive?”

“You will be contacted,” said Dominic, looking back. Then he smiled again - his grin an odd mix of affection and something more conspiratorial. “I think you will be pleased.”

Michael remained at the table as they walked slowly through the restaurant to the front door. Really, he just stared at the girl. She was of medium height – maybe about 5’6”. From the back she was slim but very shapely. Her suit came with a skirt that went to mid thigh, and her legs were bare – slim and elegant in high heels. The blue fabric of the jacket lay smoothly across her buttocks, revealing a tight, shapely ass. As she turned sideways to move to the door he saw that incredible chest. His crotch blazed again and finally he could reach down to adjust himself.

Michael sat at the table for some time longer. Then he got up and left the restaurant, walking swiftly. There were some things he needed to know about Mr. Dominic D'Attillio.

To the Estate

Michael spent the next three days searching for information, but discovered little. Dominic D'Attillio had been the sole owner of a large industrial firm until some twenty five years previous. Then he sold everything and moved to the south of France, where a search of the land records revealed he still owned a large rural estate. There was no record at all of his doings or whereabouts since then. Yet Dominic had said he had met Michael's mother “when he was just starting out.” So he had surely started something new when he moved to France. But what? It was a complete mystery.

He could also find nothing definite about anyone called Mandy Grey. A search on the name brought up many possibilities, but nothing that would connect to Dominic D’Attilio, Southern France, or anything else. Was she just some expensive hooker? In the end Michael could not believe this. There was too much wholesome beauty and intelligence in that face, and her submissive demeanor was too genuine. There was something truly strange about this girl. Strange and incredibly exciting.

On the third day he was sitting at his terminal when another secure mail message arrived. This time Dominic's face was on his screen. “Michael,” said the image. “I would like you to come to my home on Friday of this week. My driver will pick you up at 12:00 noon at your door. Please be ready.” The image smiled, and then faded. Michael was not surprised to find that moments later he could find no trace of it.

Friday was the day his lease expired, and so it could hardly be more convenient. The apartment was furnished, and Michael had few possessions of his own. He decided to get rid of some and bring everything else with him. On Friday when the car arrived Michael had everything in one large bag, which the driver (the large man again) accepted without comment and placed in the trunk. The man opened the rear door for Michael, and ushered him in.

Inside, Michael noted the spacious luxury of the car. There was an envelope beside him on the seat with his name on it. Inside was a note saying simply: “Please relax and enjoy the trip. There is a bar in the seat back in front of you - help yourself.''

Michael opened the bar and poured himself a beer as the car moved away from the curb. “Could be worse!” he thought as he took his first sip. But the sense of mystery was intense.

The driver made no response to his attempts to communicate, and soon Michael gave up trying. The car headed for the freeway and then out into the countryside. Gradually Michael felt himself getting sleepy, and before long his head was back and his mouth was open as he snored away peacefully. The car continued on to a small airstrip where a very modern plane was waiting. The man carried Michael easily into the plane, which was small and fast but also luxuriously appointed inside. He laid Michael into a large reclining seat, fastened him in, and then took a seat himself. The plane took off smoothly and continued flying on into the night.

The next day Michael found himself waking up in a car again, just as it was pulling up to a large house. He awoke quickly, feeling rested and refreshed. But then he had a moment of absolute disorientation as he realized that he was not in the same car that he had fallen asleep in. Immediately the door was opened for him, and he was asked to step out. The air was balmy and soft, and full of unfamiliar smells. Looking around -- the house, the birds, the gravel on the driveway -- everything told him that he was no longer in Canada.

“Where am I?” he asked the driver.

“Welcome to France, sir.” said the driver (a new one) simply. “I will get your bag. You may enter through the front doors there.”

Michael placed himself quickly. He was at the D'Attillio estate in Southern France, of course. Well, this would be interesting. “And what a place it is,” he thought as he looked up at the large stone house and around at all the outbuildings and lawns. He took his time, enjoying the soft air and the beauty of the place. Then he turned to the front steps and walked through the front doors.

Inside he was met by the large man again. “Welcome to France, sir, and welcome to this home. My name is Jaffa.” Michael reached out to shake the man’s hand, but he bowed deeply and did not return the gesture. Rising, he continued: “Please follow me to the waiting room where Mr. D'Attillio will meet you shortly.”

Michael was ushered into a large panelled room with lush carpets, wooden and upholstered furniture, a desk, and a large fireplace on one wall. It was well lit and smelled fresh. There was no-one there, and Michael had some time to himself. His eyes roamed the room, finally landing on a small framed picture on the wall. Approaching it more closely he recognized with a shock that it was an original sketch by Jo Farrell.

The picture showed a young woman tied with her back to a tree in a garden. Her clothes had been torn open to reveal her legs and her very large breasts. Two ropes were tied very tightly around her breasts and strung over a branch of the tree. A man was holding the other ends and was about to jerk her breasts upwards, while off to the side a small group of elegantly dressed men and women watched with interest.

At that point Michael heard the door behind him, and he turned to see Dominic. “You have seen this picture before.” he said. It was not a question and Michael did not answer, but just stood there feeling somewhat guilty. “Copies of this picture have circulated on the web and the hyperweb since the 1990's. There was one on your opti-drive in your office in Canada until you cleaned up last week.”

Michael could say nothing. Pictures like this were not illegal to possess but this was a side of his private life that he had never discussed with anyone.

“Relax,” said Dominic with a smile, and he placed his hand on Michael's shoulder. “You have excellent taste. This is a work of genius.”

Dominic moved beside him and looked at the picture. “See the way he captures the absolute moment. The girl is surprised and terrified, and pleading for the man to stop. Look at her face. It is such an outrageous violation for such a well dressed, attractive young girl.” He pointed to her nipples, which in the picture were dripping fluid. “Perhaps they chose her because she is a young mother and her breasts are swollen with milk. They will be particularly sensitive to this treatment.”

Dominic paused, contemplating the picture. “Look how the overall scene is portrayed - with such normalcy! The spectators are interested, but the event is just an entertainment for them. They are pleased by the creativity of the punishment, perhaps. And look at the way the man is leaning into it -- his enthusiasm! You can enjoy this sketch for hours. It draws you deep into the world the artist has created. There are so many delicious possibilities. So many ways the story could have led to this moment, or could go from here. Don't you think?”

Michael's head was spinning. His erection had grown enormous while Dominic was talking, and it needed to be adjusted. He felt at an enormous disadvantage just because he was so turned on – just as he had felt in the restaurant when he had first seen the girl. This man seemed to know everything about him. Michael knew he had to respond.

“Wow!” was all he said at first, and he turned away, spread his knees, and adjusted himself. “Yes,” he said. “This man was an amazing genius. But I have never met anyone who would have a piece like this hanging on the wall of his house.” He turned to look at Dominic with more confidence.

“Ah but now you have met me, Michael. And we know now that you have come by your appreciation of art honestly.”

Dominic was smiling, and Michael had to smile back. Dominic continued: “You will find that you can be quite honest about your taste in art while you are in this house, Michael. Art and anything else. It will take some time for you to get used to the freedoms you will have here. It is possible to indulge your own self to an extent that you will find quite astonishing, I assure you.”

The two regarded each other briefly. Michael was acutely aware of the pleasure rising from his crotch but he was still unwilling to open up completely to this man he barely knew. Michael had an active fantasy life that included the domination of attractive women. He was quite comfortable with this part of his personality, but had never revealed it to anyone. Yet this man seemed to know all about it. Further, he seemed to share the same fantasies.

Dominic continued: “I know a great deal about you, Michael, partly because you are so much like myself. And I also know you are reluctant to talk about these things with another man.” Dominic's eyes were warm and conspiratorial, and he chuckled. “Relax,” he said again. “I am not even slightly homosexual, and neither are you. We are just transgressing some cultural boundaries on the topics men can normally discuss with each other. I will say it again -- there are no boundaries to expression in this house.”

Michael regarded Dominic carefully. His mind was clear and he was forming impressions rapidly. Dominic was a very powerful man—this much was obvious. Michael had been taken from his home without leaving a trace. He was now in a position where no-one could ever find him. No doubt if he were to turn and leave he would find the large man, or perhaps several men, barring his way somehow. And Dominic's power showed in his confident manner. But what was his purpose?

Michael took a long breath and examined his instincts. As deep as he could go, in spite of his situation, he felt trust. In fact he had to admit that the more he saw Dominic the more he liked him. Dominic was enjoying Michael's discomfort, certainly, but in a way that could only be described as friendly. And, try as he might, Michael could see absolutely nothing that Dominic could have to gain by deceiving him.

But there was still a remarkable strangeness about the whole situation. And Michael simply could not ignore the burning in his crotch. His cock was absolutely rampant under his pants, and it strained even further as a powerful image of the large breasted girl -- Mandy -- entered his mind. What was her role in all of this?

“Let me show you another one,” said Dominic. “I think you have seen this one as well.” Dominic led him to a spot on the other side of the fireplace. Hanging there was another Farrell original that Michael recognized with a shock.

This one had only three people. There was a woman tied to a post with her very large breasts exposed. They were covered with puncture wounds, and several pins could be seen imbedded in them. A man was pushing another large needle into the left one, the tip making an indentation as it plunged into her flesh. Another woman, pleased and interested, was watching from behind. The victim was screaming, her face a picture of agony. The man was smiling calmly and watching the victim's face as he forced in the needle.

“I like this one too,” said Michael. “But it goes a bit far for me. Blood does not excite me.”

“No,” said Dominic. “Not many of us find blood to be erotic. And to be honest the risk of infection makes it all a bit too complicated. But what is it that draws you to the picture then?”

Michael’s crotch surged again. Did he hear correctly? Had Dominic just suggested that he had drawn blood from a victim like this? The implications of this thought were too much for him, and he turned quickly to the picture. His eyes moved from face to face and over the poor woman's tortured breasts. It was in order to bring his spinning thoughts under control that he focused on Dominic's question.

“It is the extended violation,” he said finally. “The woman has been there for a long time, to have her breasts so well marked. She has been struggling and screaming, and is now becoming quite hysterical. And yet the man continues, slowly, taking his time. He is enjoying her struggles and watching them, but he also just enjoys punishing her breasts. And the other woman -- she is pleased to be watching the process and thinks it quite normal and appropriate. And of course there is the size of those breasts -- just look at them!”

“Why is it important that the woman have such large breasts?”

Michael found the question strange, thinking first that it didn't matter. He liked large breasts, but he knew some men did not. But then he looked at the picture again and realized that Dominic’s question was artistic. The drawing in the picture was realistic - this was no cartoon. Yet the breasts were bigger than large - bigger than life, in fact. Why would the artist have made them so big?

“I think,” said Michael after a moment, “That it has to do with power.”

“Yes!” Dominic's voice was pleased. “Go on!”

“I think,” said Michael again, growing more confident, “I think that in the normal world, with all of its rules for normal behavior, a woman with breasts like these has enormous power. Men are overwhelmed with attraction, and yet to gain her consent they must win her trust, and to do this they must restrain their behavior. They must be polite, and attentive, and nice. And the woman can pick and choose among those men on the slightest of pretexts, causing the rejected ones grief and humiliation.”

Michael paused for a moment, then continued, hardly believing his own words. “What is happening in this picture is that the source of this power is being slowly, carefully, and systematically violated. Perhaps the artist is suggesting that the pain on this woman's face is fair recompense for the frustration she has caused every man who has felt powerless and stupid in front of her. Breasts like those are made to be punished.”

“And,” he added as an afterthought, “I suppose it is recompense to this other woman too.”

Dominic had his hand on Michael's shoulder once again. His eyes were beaming, and he laughed openly. “Very good!” he said. “Very good indeed!” Michael turned, but Dominic was already walking over to a couch, where he sat down. “Come, sit.” he said, gesturing to a large chair opposite. Michael sat. There was a low wooden table on the floor between them.

Dominic looked at Michael for a few moments before he spoke again. “Michael,” he said. “I am about to make to you a proposition that a great many men would accept in their dreams, but perhaps only a very few would accept in practice. I told you several days ago that I wanted you to take over my business. I am now going to tell you what that business is.”

“You see, Michael, I am a person who trains beautiful young females for the service of very wealthy men. That is what I do. It is something that I thoroughly enjoy, and it is also very, very profitable.”

Michael was amazed yet again, but (he realized) no more so than he had been when he entered the room and saw the first picture. The explanation made sense of everything that had happened to him from the day he got his first secure message. He had seen it coming, without knowing it. He nodded, believing Dominic instantly.

Dominic was still speaking. “As you can imagine, it is also quite illegal. Some would say it is highly immoral. You may also find it objectionable, and I must emphasize that I have arranged things so that you do have the chance to refuse. At this point you know very little about me, and you do not know where you are. We can return you to your old life in such a way that you would have no hard information to give to give to any authorities.”

There was silence, and Michael knew that it was his turn to speak. He waited a few moments, feeling a strength rise within him. “It seems to me that you have been telling me the truth,” he began. “You have no obvious reason to kidnap someone like me - I have no assets. And my instincts suggest that your claim to be my father could be right - probably is. And your claims about the character of your business also make sense. So while your claims are remarkable, they also make sense. But there is much I would still like to know.”

“I will do what I can.”

“Well, let's begin with this one. Why would you choose me for this . . . position?”

“Oh, well -- a father cannot be faulted for looking first to his family. We have investigated you. You have the intelligence and character to run an organization of this scope. I have seen this in you already. You have the required interest. We want someone who will enjoy the work, after all.” Dominic's eyes were sparkling again.

“But why choose anyone? Are you planning to retire?” Michael said this with a smile, but immediately realized he might have gone too far.

Dominic paused, and then almost shrugged. “It is a good question, and I will tell you the answer. Several years ago my doctors informed me that I have a condition that will kill me within a year or two from now. There is no cure and there is nothing they can do.” Michael started to say something but Dominic cut him off: “No - I need no sympathy. I have known now for some time and I have quite some time left. I am used to the idea. I will say no more.”

Michael looked down. This was a lot of information. Finally he spoke sincerely: “Dominic, I am sorry to hear this.”

“I know. I had not wanted to tell you. We can talk more about this later if you wish. But now you must think about your decision.”

“Fair enough,” said Michael. “But what happens if I say yes? I have not the slightest idea how to run an organization, least of all one that does what you claim. Are you proposing to put me through a training program? Show me how to do all of this?”

“Absolutely.” Dominic spread his arms as he spoke. “There is an enormous amount to learn, and it will take you many months - a year perhaps. But you will enjoy the process, I assure you.”

Michael stared for a moment longer. Then, suddenly, he shook his head and looked down. “No,” he said. “It still doesn't make sense. You say that you are dying, which let us say I believe. Why not just let your organization die with you? Or let one of your more experienced employees take over and do the best he can with it? Why would you go out of your way to bring in someone like me -- with no experience and no suggestion other than a few pictures on an opti-drive that he will take the job? Why do you need me?”

Dominic looked at Michael for some time, his face a mix of admiration and indecision. “The reason,'' he said finally, “is Mandy. You will come to understand this eventually, but I will say no more now. You must make your decision.”

Michael realized he had made his decision long before. But he waited nonetheless, going over everything in his mind. He knew clearly what his cock was pointing to, but it had already led him into situations he had lived to regret. But he was also being offered a way to earn a good living. If he could indulge his fantasies at the same time, so much the better. And, in his fantasies at least, he had succeeded wildly at this job for which he had no practical experience.

Michael looked up at Dominic again. The bottom line, he realized, was that he trusted this man who had entered his life so efficiently and seemed to know so much about him. That, and the fact that he had been asked to provide nothing other than himself to the deal, and indeed had nothing else to offer, made his decision clear. Reaching out his hand he said, simply: “I accept.”

Dominic smiled, and took his hand firmly. “Welcome to your dreams,” he said.

Mandy

Mandy

“So, what happens now?”

Dominic laughed. “We will start slowly. You still have no idea where you are headed, and there is no point trying to do everything at once. First, we will have a drink.”

At that moment the large man entered again, carrying a tray that held two glasses and a decanter. “Michael,” said Dominic “Meet Jaffa. Jaffa is one of our oldest and most trusted employees. He knows as much about this business as myself, and his advice is treasured.”

Jaffa placed the tray on the table, and Michael shook his hand. “Welcome, sir.” said Jaffa. “I will be very pleased to work with you.”

“Thank you,” said Michael as Jaffa poured them both a glass of Cognac. The two men toasted their future together while Jaffa stood. When they were finished, Jaffa refilled their glasses somewhat higher and then left the room, leaving the tray and the bottle behind on the table.

As the door closed Dominic began to speak, but Michael interrupted: “Why not let Jaffa run things?”

“A good idea, Michael, except that Jaffa is not capable of carrying through on all parts of the training. Jaffa can do a great deal, but there are times in a slave's training when it is essential that she be sexually dominated by her trainer. Jaffa is a eunuch. This makes him a poor trainer but the ideal assistant - completely trustworthy.” Dominic's eyes were sparkling again.

“It would be best, I think, to give you a short demonstration. Jaffa will bring Mandy along shortly.”

Michael's cock stirred once again at the sound of the girl's name. He adjusted his position on the chair, and Dominic laughed again. “I see that Mandy has had an effect on you. She is a special girl. Quite special, as you will see.”

At this point the door opened, and Mandy entered the room. This time Michael was not afraid to stare. Mandy had her hair done differently. It was completely in curls that hung softly to frame her face. She wore little makeup except a touch around her eyes. A light blue silk dress clung to her skin, revealing clearly that she wore nothing else. Her breasts were covered, but the fabric clung so tightly that they formed two separate mounds on her chest that jiggled promisingly as she approached the table in between the two men. Michael watched her nipples. There is something incredibly exciting about seeing a woman and knowing that soon you will see her naked.

She was looking at Dominic as she approached, but gave Michael a quick and apprehensive glance before arriving in front of the low table. Stopping, she lowered herself until she was on her knees, and then settled down further, her shapely ass coming to rest on the heels of her bare feet. Then she raised her arms above her head and arched her back, thrusting her breasts forward. Her hands came to rest finally at the back of her neck, elbows out. She held her head high but her eyes were downcast. She remained still, her breasts rising and falling slowly with her breathing, and said nothing.

“You were saying that the breasts in the picture were larger than life? Are you so sure now?” Dominic reached forward and squeezed the nearest one from below, causing it to bulge upwards under the silk. He was smiling at Michael, but Michael could not take his eyes off the girl and her magnificent breasts. Even as Dominic let go, they stood well out from her chest, massive, the upper slopes convex, the nipples jutting out proudly. And the rest of her body was slim and fit but voluptuous as well. Michael's mouth was open and his eyes were large as they roamed up and down the girl’s body.

“Mandy is a slave, Michael. She is a very special slave, but it should be clear that her only duty in life is to please her master.”

“Watch.” Dominic rose to his feet and moved the table carefully to one side so that there was a space in front of Mandy. Then he stood in front of the girl, looking down. Reaching, he unzipped his pants and swiftly took out his penis, which was erect and hovered in front of Mandy's face.

Michael was transfixed. He had not seen another man’s erect cock since he was a kid, and he could not take his eyes off it. It looked so lewd, shivering there above that beautiful upturned face. He leaned forward to get closer, and became aware of his own cock straining inside his pants. He had a brief feeling of pride that his was as big, and perhaps even a bit thicker.

“Mandy loves my cock.”

It was true. Mandy's eyes were focused in on the head, and followed it as Dominic, his hand on his hips, slowly moved it from side to side in front of her. Dominic led her all the way to the point where she faced Michael, her eyes still focused in on the member directly in front of her. Michael could not believe the simple beauty of that face. He looked again at the large soft eyes, full but delicate lips, and smooth young complexion. Her expression was calm and attentive – she seemed happy.

“Take.” The order was sharp. Mandy's mouth opened wide, and her eyes closed briefly as she moved her head forward to envelop the round end of Dominic's shaft. Then she moved her head back and around so that she could slide him in all the way, burying her nose in the pubic hairs that emerged from his pants. Then she moved out again, letting Dominic's glistening shaft emerge slowly from her lips. At this point her eyes opened, and she looked up at him. In all this time her hands had remained behind her neck, and now she made an effort to push her elbows back even further. Her face moved back until the head began to emerge, and at that point her pink tongue moved out to caress the underside. Expertly, she was able to hold the shaft steady with her upper lip while her tongue rasped gently underneath, her soft wide eyes all the time looking up at Dominic.

“What you are seeing here, Michael, is an extremely well trained slave.” Dominic still had his hands on his hips, and was now looking at Michael. Michael sat back in his chair.

“She has been with us for three years. During this time she has been devoted entirely to me, her Master. She is my slave.” Dominic looked down at Mandy again and smiled. Then, almost absentmindedly, he took his penis in his hand and held it above Mandy's uptilted face. She was beaming up at him, acknowledging his smile. Her eyes were wide and happy. She kept her mouth open and her tongue still rested against her lower lip. After a moment Dominic brought his cock down against her cheek -- not hard: it was almost with affection. There was a wet slapping noise. He continued, slapping both cheeks, her mouth, her eyes.

“You see that Mandy is content in her status. She desires only to please her Master, and she is happy to be here and to see her Master being entertained.”

Dominic reached to his waist and undid his trousers, letting them fall to the floor. Stepping back, he removed them completely and calmly started folding them in his hands.

Michael was still transfixed by the scene. So many strange things had been happening to this point in the day that having another man half naked in front of him did not cause him any real embarrassment. More than anything, Michael just felt completely out of his element. His fantasies, detailed and exciting as they were, gave him no preparation for this reality. He had no idea what to do. He watched Dominic move to place his pants on the chair, and then he looked at the girl and her breasts once again. Then as Dominic turned, his erection hovering once more above Mandy's face, Michael realized that Dominic was not expecting him to do or say anything. He should just watch. “All right,” he decided. “Let's see what happens next.”

Dominic entered her mouth once again, pumping slowly inside her for a few moments. Then he withdrew, his cock hard and glistening. Turning, he faced away from Mandy and spread his legs. Then he bent over to place his hands on his knees. “There are many ways that a slave can show her affection for her master,” he said to Michael. “This is one of my favorites.”

Mandy clearly knew what to do. She brought her hands forward to gently spread Dominic's cheeks with her thumbs. Her head moved forward, and Michael saw her pink tongue reach out, pointing for its target. Tipping her head back, Mandy buried her face in Dominic's flesh.

“Ahh!” Dominic's groan was heartfelt. “She has the most wonderful tongue!”

Mandy's eyes were closed as she concentrated on her Master's pleasure. Her hands fell away from his buttocks now that her tongue had found its mark. She brought one around his thighs to reach for him while the other went between his legs to cradle his balls gently. Both her hands began to caress him softly, her fingers moving like spider legs across his skin.

Dominic's hips were rocking slowly as he continued speaking to Michael. “Mandy is trained to respond to the movements of my sphincter. When I push out, she sharpens her tongue and drives it as deeply as she can into me. Then when I close up, I can draw her tongue inside me. Ahhh! Like this!”

Mandy's face was tipped back and pressed deeply into Dominic's cheeks. Her neck was outstretched, and Michael could see the muscles working in her throat. Underneath, she continued to caress Dominic's balls, and her other hand was now wrapped around his cock, gently stroking in and out. Dominic's eyes were closed -- he was lost in his own world. Mandy was crouching underneath him on her knees, her head pushing up between his legs. She nestled his balls gently against her chin as her tongue continued to work inside him.

Suddenly Dominic cried out and pulled forward, leaving Mandy with her tongue waving in the air. Turning swiftly, Dominic took his cock in hand and held it over the young girl's face. Immediately a stream of sperm erupted into the air, landing in a while trail on Mandy's forehead, nose, and lips. Her tongue was still out, and it reached up to touch just below the opening of Dominic's cockhead as a second spurt filled her nostrils and dribbled into her mouth. Her eyes opened, blinking away some fluid that had landed there, and then she smiled up at Dominic, her tongue still rubbing him. Another dollop emerged, running down her tongue and into her mouth.

After a moment, Dominic lifted his cock higher and at the same time reached behind his balls to goose out the last drips. He moved over Mandy's upturned face, dotting her cheeks with white drops. His legs were spread wide. Beneath him, Mandy once again brought her hands up behind her head and arched her back, thrusting her breasts forward.

Finally, Dominic stepped back, leaving Mandy with her tongue still pointing into the air. Her face was covered with white streaks and dots that were slowly oozing downwards. As Michael watched, a large glob reached the edge of her chin and started to flow more swiftly down her neck. Michael noted that Mandy did not swallow. She kept a white pool in her open mouth, where it covered the base of her tongue. One of her nostrils was filled, and a big glob drooled out as she breathed.

“I think a woman looks her best when she has cum on her face. Don't you?” Dominic turned to reach once again for his trousers, but then seemed to have a second thought. He moved over to a cupboard in the wall, taking off his shirt as he went. For a moment he was completely naked, but then he took out a beautiful long silk dressing gown and put it on. He took another one out of the closet, and gave it to Michael, who was still feeling somewhat stunned on the couch. “Put this on -- you'll feel much more comfortable.”

Michael mumbled out something like a “Thank you,” and rose unsteadily to his feet. He felt uncomfortable having to undress, especially with his rampant cock about to erupt from his jeans. But he removed his jacket and tie and then, as he looked down at the girl's upturned face, another feeling

-- darker and more confident -- began to grow within him. Incredibly, his cock grew even larger as he undid his belt and opened his fly. He was standing in front of the girl, watching her stained face and the slight trembles of her tongue. Leaving his pants partly down and the head of his cock bursting from the top of his shorts, he took off his shirt. He removed his trousers, and then, finally, reached behind to run his hands down his buttocks and pull down his shorts. His large cock bounced free, and then he was completely naked.

Almost immediately he felt the gown being draped over his shoulders. Dominic laid his hand on Michael and said: “Patience, my boy. All in good time.” Michael's mood immediately changed, and he gathered the gown around himself. Dominic motioned for him to sit again, and he did.

“Mandy is a personal slave, Michael. That means she has served no-one but her master, and does not know how to react to anyone else. At the same time, you have no experience in exercising a slave of any kind. So I must ask that you start slowly and follow my instructions. This may be frustrating, but I must insist. Can you do this?”

“Yes, I ... .” Michael was at a loss for words, but forced his thoughts together finally and continued. “I obviously have a lot to learn. But what I felt moments ago -- that was incredible!”

“Yes, you felt the strength that comes with Command. Not everyone has this strength, but I knew it was powerful in you. It is another reason why we chose you. You will learn to control it, so that it does not destroy you. But at the same time, the pleasure you will feel as it is exercised will be unlike anything you can imagine.”

“All right.” The words indicated acceptance of tonight's restriction, but also of the promise Dominic had made. Michael's cock stirred again, more freely now underneath his robe.

“I love to watch Mandy swallow my cum.” Dominic moved over to kneel beside Mandy, his face only inches from hers. “Watch. Come over here.”

Michael moved over to kneel on Mandy's other side and brought his face close to hers. Dominic's cum was already drying on parts of Mandy's forehead and cheeks. But in her upper lip was wet with fluid that was still draining slowly from her nostril, and the pool in her mouth was deep. She was looking steadily at Dominic.

“Mandy, I want you to bring your tongue into your mouth and bathe it in my cum. Keep your face tilted upwards and mouth open so that Michael and I can watch. Swirl your tongue around, and then bring it back out again. I want you to keep your mouth open the whole time. Begin.”

As Michael watched, his face only inches from hers, the obedient girl brought her pink tongue down into the white pool inside her mouth, moving it around and around. Squeezing in her cheeks and closing her mouth slightly, she was able to raise the level until her tongue disappeared under the white surface. Then, slowly, the tip emerged and came up again. Covered, it slowly retook its exposed position between her lips.

Dominic reached down to hold Mandy's chin, his thumb and fingers circling her neck and pressing in against her cheeks. Then he pushed in gently a few times, watching the pool of cum rise and fall within her mouth. Mandy kept her tongue out and pointed. “I love the sight of my come in a beautiful woman's mouth.” said Dominic. “There is something so lewd about it. So nasty. I never get tired of it.”

Michael couldn't speak. He simply could not believe what was happening. His cock felt ready to explode. Never had he been so aroused.

Dominic let go of her chin, and told Mandy it was time to swallow. Mandy kept her mouth open as her tongue moved to seal behind her upper teeth. She swallowed several times, awkwardly. Each time her eyes closed, then opened to look up, seeking approval. Then she licked her upper lip to clean it, and swallowed again.

“Oh, that's lovely,” said Dominic. Then he looked at Michael again. “Did you enjoy that too?” He laughed, the said: “So, I imagine you are anxious to see the rest of her. Would I be right?”

Michael nodded, his mouth dry.

“Relax!” said Dominic, accurately judging Michael's condition. “Sit back. Have some more of your Cognac. I will have Mandy introduce herself to you.”

Michael sat back on his seat. It was a stuffed armchair, and he could lean back comfortably. His gown was closed across his crotch, but the outline of his erection was huge.

“Open your gown, Michael,” said Dominic. “Show off your cock. Mandy knows the power of an erect penis.”

This felt strange to Michael. Even after all he had seen, the thought of another man asking him to reveal his erection made him nervous. He made to say something, but then noticed that Dominic was not even watching him. He was still on the floor by Mandy, who was returning his gaze. Dominic was about to say something, and it was clear to Michael that whatever it was, it was more important to Dominic than the sight of his erection. Michael watched, fascinated by the interaction he was witnessing.

“Mandy,” Dominic began in a soft voice. “We spoke of this, and you know it must happen.”

“Oh, Master. I love you so much.” It was the first words she had spoken. They were real.

“I know, Mandy. And I love you. But this is best, and you know I must punish you if you fail. Your pain will give you courage. Now we must begin.”

But Dominic made no move, and the strange thing was that he seemed as frightened at that moment as Mandy. Michael watched them both kneeling on the floor, looking at each other. Then, not even realizing what he was doing, Michael opened his gown. His erect cock lay flat up against his belly, hard but not enormous. Dominic looked up at it. “There we go, Mandy. We have rehearsed this. I will be here watching you.”

Dominic got up first, and went over to a large and elegant wooden cabinet in a corner of the room. He returned quickly, holding in his hand what Michael immediately recognized to be a riding crop. Tapping it lightly against his palm, he said: “Now, Mandy.”

Mandy's legs moved first as she shuffled on her knees to face him. Her hands were shaking slightly as they came from behind her neck to rest at her sides, just at the level of her hem. Her hips were just inches from his knees. Michael's eyes roamed to her breasts, still covered by the silk. Then as he looked at her face, Mandy's eyes suddenly locked onto his.

The thrill that ran up Michael's body at that moment was electric. He could not take his eyes from that face. It showed her fright, but more than this it just showed everything. It showed Mandy's innocence. Her love for Dominic. Her dreadful desire to please him, in order to please Dominic. Her fear that she would not know how to succeed. It was a gorgeous face -- a stunningly beautiful face. And covering it were wet streaks of cum, revealing her incredible surrender.

Michael felt the dominant strength rising in him again. He reached for his cock, circling the base underneath his scrotum with his thumb and forefinger, and held it in the air.

“Dr. Sharpe,” said Mandy, her lips trembling. “My Master wishes me to introduce myself to you. My name is Mandy Grey. I am a slave.”

Mandy looked down at herself, and her hands ran over her hips and up to cup gently her breasts from underneath. Michael's jaw went a bit slack as he saw the flesh being plumped upwards under the silk. “My breasts are at your pleasure, Sir” she said, looking at him again. Then she shuffled slowly around so that her round behind was in front of him. Slowly she spread her legs, the tight skirt riding up her thighs. Then her hands came back to the hem of her dress and pulled it up suddenly. At the same time, she bent forward at the waist, so that all Michael could see was her lower half, completely naked.

“Whoa!” Michael's outburst was involuntary. Mandy's crotch hovered in front of him. Everything was completely bare and smooth. The twin mounds of her cunt were fat and slightly parted, showing just a hint of what lay inside. As he watched, Mandy brought one hand between her legs and ran two fingers down the cleft, spreading herself so as to make the inner lips pout attractively. Then both her hands came around to lie softly on the tops of her ass cheeks. Gently, she moved her elbows together and used her fingers to pull herself apart.

Michael had seen this sort of thing in porn films, but what astounded him was the gracefulness of the entire performance. Mandy’s fingers and hands retained a slender elegance even as they performed this most degrading of acts. Her soft voice rose again: “My cunt and my asshole are for your pleasure, Sir.”

Dominic walked around to stand behind Michael's chair. “Nice looking pussy, don't you think? And so much nicer when it is kept bare like that.”

Michael's cock was throbbing in his hand. His eyes were fixed on the girl's pussy and the puckered pink ring above it. “Woah!” was all he could say, again. Then, incredibly, the ring began to move. She was pulsing her anus at him. The lovely pink ring contracted and expanded, in and out, in and out.

Dominic chuckled softly. “Looks quite inviting, doesn't it. I bet you've never seen that before.”

They watched for a few moments. “It feels remarkable when she does that around your cock.”

A guttural sigh escaped Michael's throat. His penis felt like it would explode in his hands. He was helpless – paralyzed in his chair.

“Mandy,”' said Dominic. “I think Michael would like to see your breasts now.”

Mandy straightened, and the first thing she did was to grab her dress and lift it completely off her head. Keeping her knees spread, she leaned forward again to place the blue silk in a soft pile on the table. Then she stood up and turned to stand completely naked before Michael. She spread her legs again, and placed her arms behind her back. Looking at Michael, she leaned forward at the waist, keeping her chin up and her shoulders back.

A wall of breast flesh descended in front of Michael's face. He could not believe what he was seeing. Mandy's breasts were so huge they formed a cleavage even as they hung freely in front of him. Yet they were not overly pendulous -- they seemed to have their own internal sense as to shape. The nipples hung only inches above his chest. Michael's hands left his crotch and opened as to gather her breasts in from either side, but then stopped suddenly.

Behind, Dominic chuckled softly again. “Go ahead. Grab them!”

Michael's hands touched Mandy for the first time, on her naked and dangling breasts. His first touch was light, shaping and sizing and judging the firmness. Then they went underneath, and Michael gently lifted, feeling the weight. Her nipples pressed into his palms as he pushed them up toward her chest, watching the flesh bulge.

He heard Dominic’s friendly chuckle behind him. “Michael, you show too much respect. Remember the picture? Is this how a slave’s tits should be treated?”

Michael looked up at Mandy's face, but it was too close for him to see. He grabbed her breasts more tightly, and moved Mandy away from him. Mandy's mouth was open slightly and her gaze was apprehensive. Michael was feeling strong, but he didn't know what to do, and it was not Mandy's responsibility to know.

The room was silent for a moment, and then Dominic moved calmly to stand beside Mandy, the crop in his right hand. “I think perhaps we need a demonstration,” he said softly. Mandy's face grew even more apprehensive, and she closed her eyes.

“Mandy! You will look at Dr. Sharpe. Look directly into his eyes! It is for his benefit that you are being punished.”

Mandy opened her eyes and looked at Michael as he opened his hands wide. Her nipples dug into his palms as he grabbed as much of her as he could. His large hands did not reach her chest, so he held firm and twisted his elbows out to create some tension in the flesh he could not hold. The flesh within his hands was firm but yielding. He squeezed hard, testing its strength, twisting and pulling her breasts apart until he felt he had her torso secured firmly. Then, looking at her frightened eyes, he said “Yes”.

Dominic raised his hand and brought the crop down sharply across Mandy's ass cheeks. “Whap!” The noise was loud, crisp. It was a sound that Michael had never heard before -- leather sharply meeting the flesh of a naked girl. It went straight to his cock, causing it to jerk upwards from his belly. His hands dug into Mandy's breasts, holding her steady as he watched her face.

The blow caused Mandy's eyes to narrow in shock and pain, but she kept them open and focused on Michael. Her lips trembled as a soft breath escaped. Her apprehension left her, remarkably. It was as if knowing she was being beaten with the crop was better than not knowing what would happen next. Michael was overcome with lust -- the sensations from his cock were becoming unbearable -- but at the same time he was fascinated by the emotions of the girl in front of him. She was losing her fear as the pain began to course through her brain.

Dominic brought the crop down again, even harder this time. Again Michael's cock jumped at the delicious sound of leather on skin. Mandy cried out, softly, and her eyes began to brim with tears. She blinked, and the tears came out to run down her cheeks, their liquid trails joining the shiny streaks of cum.

“Whap!” The crop fell again, and Mandy's cries began in earnest. “Ahh! Oh Master! Please!”

“Whap! Whap! You are being punished for Dr. Sharpe's pleasure, Mandy. It is he who will decide when the punishment stops!''

“Whap!” Suddenly Mandy's eyes focused in clearly on Michael, full of hope and dread. “Please, Dr. Sharpe! Oh, Please!”

Michael's cock was enormous. He sat up on the couch so that he was looking directly at Mandy, who now had to arch her back and hold her head uncomfortably high to meet his gaze. Her gorgeous suffering eyes were wide and full of tears. Michael reveled in his power. His fingers were moving and digging into her breasts. His ears were ringing, his mind in complete uproar.

“Whap!” The crop continued to fall against Mandy's naked ass, arched more pleasingly now to receive its punishment. “Whap! Whap!”

“Please Sir!” Mandy's plea was repeated. Michael watched her face closely. Her eyes would narrow in pain each time the crop met her flesh. Her mouth was open, and tears flowed freely now down her cheeks. Yet she made no move to escape, or to move her buttocks to lessen the blows, or even to avert her gaze.

“Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap!”

Mandy's eyes were losing focus as the pain coursed through her body. Michael moved his head back slightly, and his grip on her breasts loosened. He looked at her face, and then down at her breasts, kneading them and watching the flesh bulge through his fingers. He dropped his hands far enough to see her nipples against his palms, and then grabbed the flesh again, gathering it against her chest. He marveled at the expanse of skin now bulging attractively towards him, covering his wrists from view. Dominic, still standing to the side, lowered the crop and watched.

Michael loosened his grip again, and brought his hands down and out to the sides of her dangling breasts, feeling the soft curves with his palms. One of her nipples grazed his chest as his fingers wrapped around behind, and he began to gently pull them forwards.

Then Mandy, her back arched and arms still held obediently behind her back, gently shook her shoulders, causing her breasts to jiggle pleasantly and move from side to side against Michael's arms. “Please Sir,” she said. “Make it stop! It hurts so much!”

Michael's hands froze for a second, and then he swiftly spread his fingers and once again pushed up to grab her breasts from underneath, causing them to bulge tightly. His eyes locked onto hers. There was silence while Michael's grip tightened further, and his gaze burned into her. “Does a slave try to influence the decisions of her master?” he said softly.

Mandy's eyes grew wide with awakening fear as Dominic replied: “It is a serious transgression.”

Michael spoke: “Mandy, were you trying to make me stop your punishment by shaking your breasts in my hands? Did you think that I would relent if you waved your tits at me?” Michael's grip was like steel. Mandy was frozen, her eyes wide in terror.

Michael was transformed. Never had he dreamed, even in his fantasies, that he could behave with such force and authority with a woman—let alone a gorgeous naked woman that he held firmly by the tits. His mind was spinning. His hands were full of Power and his cock felt enormous. It was as if the head was suspended in space above his belly like a beacon, radiating waves of pleasure in all directions.

“Mandy! I asked you a question.” His grip on her breasts was like iron, and he twisted as he said: “Answer me! Were you waving these tits at me to make me reduce your punishment?”

“Oh, sir! I . . . I just wanted to please you! I . . . “ Mandy’s eyes betrayed her uncertainty, and she knew it. “Oh I am so sorry! Forgive me, please sir!”

“And a pathetic attempt to lie.” Michael looked at her tearstained and frightened face a moment longer, and then turned to Dominic, but it was Dominic who spoke first.

“Another serious transgression, Mandy. I'm afraid your punishment has just begun.”

Mandy's face showed fear approaching terror as Dominic walked back to the wooden cabinet and returned with another whip. This one was bigger and seemed quite stiff. Dominic stood behind Mandy, who was still looking at Michael. Her eyes were brimmed with tears, her lips trembling.

“Mandy, I would like you to move backwards toward me. Since your disobedience has insulted Dr. Sharpe, It is appropriate that your punishment be designed to give him the most pleasure. Come.”

Mandy started to shuffle her spread feet backwards. Michael held onto her breasts as she moved down his chest, letting them go finally to swing down onto his rigid cock. An involuntary rush of air left Michael's lungs as his cock emerged from her cleavage.

“That's far enough.” said Dominic. “Now, open your mouth and take Dr. Sharpe deep into your throat. I want your nose against his belly. Do it now.”

Michael could not believe the sensations as Mandy's warm moist mouth closed down on his cock. He was enormous, and as the head felt the back of her mouth, and then the squeezing pressure of her throat he could feel the beginnings of his orgasm. He held it off desperately. Looking down, he could see only Mandy's hair filling his crotch and the attractive shape of her arched back and widely split buttocks.

“Arch your back properly for the whip.”

Mandy let out a muffled wail as her back arched and her buttocks rounded out. Behind, Dominic was not satisfied. “Push it out! Better than that!” Then, as his whip hand moved back wards and up, he said to Michael: “Best you hold her head.”

Michael grabbed Mandy by her curly hair and ears, forcing her down hard onto his cock and twisting so that he could see more of her face. He wanted to see her eyes. Finally, he placed his thumbs on either side of her forehead and forced her head back while he lay back slightly. His cock was pushed down and deeper into her arched throat.

“Look at me!” Her eyes showed panic and fear.

Behind, the whip whistled through the air and landed with a thwack! on Mandy’s rounded ass. Another blow fell swiftly, and then another. “Thwack! Thwack!”

Mandy's hips jerked upwards, her breasts moving delightfully against Michael's thighs. Michael could tell this whipping was much more painful than the crop. Mandy's whole body began to jerk back and forth. Her head, held firm in Michael's hands, also began to jerk up and back, sending incredible waves of pleasure down his cock. That gorgeous, elegant face was buried in his crotch, twisted and straining with pain. He could tell she was starting to choke, and he pulled her deeper.

Michael's eyes narrowed as he felt his orgasm beginning. He could not hold back. Liquid pleasure moved up from his balls and down his shaft, finally exploding deep into the girl's throat. His head flew back as his hips jerked up and down, driving his cock painfully deeper. The feeling built, peaked, peaked again, and then reached a point where his whole body was shivering, his torso and knees jackknifing around Mandy's head. His roar of pleasure filled the room. He looked down at the girl buried in his crotch and pushed even harder, jerking his hips into her.

“Hanh! Hargh! Harrgh”

Dominic had stopped the whipping. He watched as Michael's body continued to jerk, the movements of his hips gradually slowing. Then Michael slowly relaxed back into his chair. He still held Mandy's head tightly.

Finally, Dominic reached over to take his hands away, saying: “We must let her breathe.” As he did so, Mandy lifted up her head and took a huge breath, followed by a wail of pain. Dominic lifted her face up gently, got her to stand, and then held her to him. Stroking her hair as she sobbed against him, he made soothing noises: “There, there my sweet. It's over now. And you did so well. So very well.”

Michael did not move for several minutes, but just lay in his chair, eyes closed, as the warm waves of pleasure slowly retreated. His whole body continued to tingle. Finally, when he half opened his eyes, he realized that he was alone. Both Dominic and the girl were gone.

Moments later Jaffa entered the room and bowed slightly, taking no notice of his half naked state. “The Master has taken his slave for the evening. It is late. I will show you to your room, where you will find your dinner waiting. The Master will see you again tomorrow.”

Unsteadily at first, Michael rose to his feet, gathered his gown around him, and followed Jaffa out the door.

That’s all for now. I’ll be writing more chapters but in the meantime if you enjoyed this and would like to read the story of Mandy and Dominic D’Attilio, check out “Songs of the Dance” by Archetype (that’s me) in this archive.

Archetype22@hotmail.com

Toilet Slave

Sengita

Michael was taken to a suite on the second floor of the main house. It was large and well furnished, with a view of the front driveway where he had arrived. A meal was waiting for him on a table by the window. It was late in the day. He ate slowly, showered, and then went to bed.

He could not sleep for some time, even though he felt physically exhausted by the day’s events. Images and ideas kept flooding through his mind. He kept coming back to how contradictory his own feelings had been. As Mandy displayed herself for him he had been paralyzed with indecision. But then later as she was receiving her punishments he had been totally confident and in control. He had simply abandoned himself to the pleasure of Dominance. It was a feeling he had never felt before. He liked it. He felt himself becoming hard beneath the covers, and stroked himself gently for some time.

* * *

Michael woke slowly with nothing on his mind. He felt good. His bed was warm and there was a lovely fresh breeze coming through the window. He had no idea of the time but it felt like morning. An urge to piss slowly percolated into his consciousness, and he began to remember where he was. He groaned, and stretched out in his bed.

There was a soft noise beside him, and Michael suddenly opened his eyes. He saw a face, right beside his bed. He rolled quickly onto his stomach and lifted his head, rubbing his eyes.

“Please… I am sorry to wake you, Sir.”

“What? Argh! What time is it?” Michael was still looking at his pillow.

“I do not know the time, Sir.”

“Who . . . What are you doing here? Arghh!” Michael had to rub his eyes again, and then made another attempt to see who was talking.

Into focus slowly came the face. It was a woman kneeling beside his bed. She had dark hair and dark brown eyes, and olive skin. But her features were Caucasian, and Michael realized suddenly that she was from India. Raising his head he realized just as quickly that she was naked. She was sitting on her ankles with her hands held behind her, and she had her chest thrust outwards to display a wonderful, large pair of breasts. They had dark chocolate aureolae and dark nipples.

“Oh, Wow!” said Michael. He started laughing gently and a grin slowly spread across his face. Now this was the way to wake up. He rubbed his eyes once again and looked clearly at the girl. “Who are you?”

“I am Sengita, Sir.”

“And what are you doing here?”

“I am your toilet slave, Sir.”

Michael’s groggy face froze and he felt his mood vanish as quickly as it had arrived. His head dropped back onto the pillow, face first. Toilet slave? What the fuck was he supposed to do – shit in her mouth? Michael’s fantasy life was extensive, but never had he wanted anything like this. Yuck!

“Look, there is some mistake. I don’t need a toilet slave. All I need is a bathroom and a toilet.”

“But Sir ….” The girl was sounding genuinely disappointed. “Sir, it is my function.”

“Your function? To be a toilet?”

“No sir, … I mean … Yes sir, if you wish it.”

“What?”

“Sir … I have been trained for this. My function is to assist you , … and, … and make your experience as pleasurable as possible. It is what I do, Sir.” The girl seemed sincere, and Michael continued to stare at her. As he watched she dropped her head slightly and with a very impish smile she added: “I’m very good at it, Sir.”

Michael looked at her for a few more moments. Two big dark Indian eyes looked back at him with an expression that was more hopeful than hurt. Michael looked back down at the bed and then shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “OK,” he said. “I need to take a leak.”

“Yes Sir! Let me show you to the bathroom, Sir.” Sengita got to her feet with a great jiggling of breastflesh and fairly bounced around to the other side of the bed. “This way, Sir.”

Michael was sleeping naked. As he stood up he grabbed his semi–erect cock in one hand and started to follow the girl toward a door on the other side of the room. His other hand found Sengita’s firm olive skinned ass as they reached the door. Sengita squirmed up against him for a moment and then stepped through the door and turned to face him.

“Here we are, Sir. Here is where you sit.” She pointed to a strange looking chair made of chrome metal and leather padding.

Michael was too interested in Sengita to notice the chair at first. He had always had a fascination with Indian women, and with the erotic history of this nation. Some young Indian girls had the largest and floppiest natural tits he had ever seen, and often on very slim bodies. Sengita fit this ideal. Her tits were very large, and while they could hardly be said to droop they were quite different from the firm, convex melons he had enjoyed the previous day. These were the most alive tits he had ever seen. They never stopped moving. They had their own rhythm, swinging and jouncing in time with her bubbly personality. Michael’s member began to swell in his hand and then he remembered suddenly that he still had to pee.

He looked around the bathroom and saw the usual sink and shower, but there was no toilet. Instead there was this strange chair that Sengita had pointed to. It was shaped like a normal chair with padded arms except that the seat had that unmistakable horseshoe shape. The legs were made of tubular chrome and Michael could see there was nothing underneath it. Sengita was still standing there like a hairdresser welcoming a customer to her station.

“Sengita, you want me to sit there? Where is the plumbing?”

Sengita giggled and shrugged her shoulders, sending her breasts into another remarkable jiggling fit. “You’ll see, Sir.”

Michael stared at her a moment. “Sengita, you are not acting much like a slave.”

Michael’s comment was friendly and curious, but it had a remarkable effect. Sengita’s face took on a look of horror, and her hands came to her mouth. She started to slowly drop to her knees, and then she suddenly prostrated herself completely on her belly in front of Michael. Her hands reached out and she placed them on his feet.

“Oh Sir! I must be punished! I have offended you! Oh please be merciful Sir!” Sengita’s lovely body was shaking and Michael noticed for the first time some faint lines across her buttocks that must have come from an earlier punishment.

Michael looked down at the trembling naked body at his feet and he felt the power rising in him. His cock rose with it, and he stroked it firmly as it hovered over her body. He remembered how he had felt the previous day with Mandy on his cock. “Yes, well. We will have to see about a suitable punishment.” Michael paused and breathed deeply, squeezing his cock and allowing that wonderful sense of wellbeing to return. But under it all he still needed to relieve himself. “But right now I need to take a leak, and I feel as well a large bowel movement on its way. Where is the toilet!”

Sengita struggled to her feet. “Right here, Sir. Please. Sit.”

Michael moved over to the strange chair, turned, and sat. As he settled in the cushions gave way slightly and he could feel his cheeks being pulled slightly apart. In front his legs were spread and his cock was erect, his balls hanging freely underneath. He found he could lean back slightly and he did so, spreading his legs a bit further.

Sengita was still standing, and she went to a cupboard on the wall. She came back with a thick white cloth – it looked like starched linen. She folded it carefully into a large square, and then came to kneel in front of him, placing the cloth on the floor between his feet. Her large eyes looked at him, then down to his cock and balls. Slowly she reached forward and cradled him softly in one hand while the other took his hardness and gently pulled it forward so that it was aimed toward her face. Her mouth opened and she looked up.

“Sir, I most humbly apologize for my impertinence. I deserve to be severely punished, and I will bear this as best I can. But if I may most respectfully offer an explanation -- Please, Sir, I … I was told by my master that you would not be familiar with the services of a toilet slave and that I might have to show you. I am so very sorry -- I have been far too bold.”

With that her eyes were downcast again, and she gently held him aimed at her open mouth.

In truth Michael had quite enjoyed Sengita’s “impertinence” as she called it. This girl was a minx. She had a fabulous body and a sexy spirit, and he knew he could punish her any time he wanted. He could hardly wait. His cock swelled in Sengita’s hands.

“Your punishment will come, Sengita, in due course. But first I need to pee and soon after I will need to take a large dump. So it is time for you to show me what you do.”

“Oh, yes Sir! Thank you, Sir!” Her eyes lit up again and she opened her mouth wide. Her face moved forward and gently she placed her lips around the head of his cock, still holding him gently underneath with her hands. Then she looked up at him, her eyes bright and expectant.

Michael couldn’t believe it. This girl really wanted him to piss in her mouth. Michael’s need was there, and he felt it growing until it began to hurt. He was so hard he had to push, but soon the flow began.

Amazingly, Sengita’s face reacted with pure pleasure as the first drops arrived. Her eyes closed slightly and she swallowed, her head bobbing slightly. Michael took her gently in both hands, as if to confirm she was really there. But then he leaned back, his head coming to rest on the cushion behind. He closed his eyes, still sleepy, and his bladder began to relax. The flow grew – he could feel the warmth of it in her mouth. He was completely relaxed now, and the relief swept through his body. He flooded her and listened as she continued to swallow and swallow.

As Michael’s flow diminished Sengita continued to gently suck him in and out, her delicate lips just behind the head of his cock. Then her hands went to pick up the cloth, and the next thing Michael felt was the touch of linen on his naked ass cheeks. He spurted a few last drops into Sengita and then he relaxed again, his cock swelling further. He began to push.

To say this was the most erotic bowel movement Michael had ever had would be an absurd understatement. He had always enjoyed producing a good stiff log, but this was incredible. Most interesting was the back pressure he felt as Sengita cradled his offering in her hands. Michael’s hips started to roll back and forth, and he opened his eyes to see her still looking up at him. She held her lips gently over the end of his shaft as he pumped into her.

Michael took his time, watching Sengita’s face and seeing the pleasure in her eyes. At one point when he was widely distended he stopped pushing. Sengita sensed what he wanted, and began to move her lips pleasurably on his cock, all the while supporting and gently moving the log coming out of him. Then he continued to push, and finally he was done. Sengita paused for a while, making sure, and then she took the cloth away, folding it to cover its contents. Without taking her lips from him she reached to another container beside the chair to retrieve a smaller white cloth that she used to wipe him gently. This cloth was also folded and laid beside the other.

Then with a smile Sengita released him and swiftly turned around so that for a brief moment she was sitting between his knees facing away. Then she laid her head back, and to Michael’s astonishment she moved right underneath him and reached up outside his thighs to grasp the arms of the chair. Her legs went out in front and in a lovely athletic move, she suddenly rose up on her toes and pulled up with her arms to bury her face between his cheeks. Her hips and belly arched up and her large soft breasts rolled on her torso it rose up between his thighs.

Michael could not believe his eyes. His hands reached for her breasts, and he grabbed each one firmly and pulled them up between his legs. He kept pulling, his fingers digging in from all sides as Sengita’s tongue gently found its mark and began to burrow inside him.

“Arghhh! Oh Shit!” His eyes closed and he leaned back, pulling Sengita hard by the tits. Waves of pleasure radiated upwards from her tongue. He lay there feeling her movements, his hips rolling, his cock rampant above his belly. His mind was fog, his body a pure pleasure receptacle.

“I see you have met Sengita!”

“What the Fuck!” Michael sat up, his hands still grasping.

“No! No! Don’t get up.” It was Dominic, standing in the doorway wearing a silk dressing gown and a huge smile. “Relax. Enjoy! She has the most wonderful tongue!”

He heard Sengita chuckle underneath him. She pulled up with her arms and pressed her face hard against him. Then she drove her tongue even deeper into his asshole with a hard gooshing jiggle.

“Fuck me! Arghhh!”

Dominic was laughing openly now. He came into the room and looked down at the two of them for a moment. The he spoke: “Alright, Sengita, that is enough.”

Sengita detached herself, and with a giggle she started to scoot out from under Michael. He let go and she rose to face him, remaining on her knees. She had a big smile and her eyes were full of fun.

Michael couldn’t resist. “Now there’s a shit-eating grin!”

Dominic chuckled while Sengita made a face. Then Dominic spoke, his tone becoming more serious. “Sengita you may go. Michael, I hope you don’t mind if I join you for breakfast. We have much to discuss.”

Sengita obediently bent over to pick up the white cloths, and then moved to leave. Michael spoke up: “I believe she still owes me a punishment.”

“Does she now.” Dominic looked at Sengita, who was now standing naked and silent in the doorway, still holding the cloths like a tray in front of her. He paused, and then said: “Tonight, after dinner, you will report here to take your punishment. Do you understand?”

“Yes Master.” Sengita’s eyes were downcast, and her bubbly personality was gone.

“Now go.”

Sengita left. Michael looked down and shook his head, still not really awake. Dominic went to a closet and brought out a gown like his own, and handed it to Michael. “Come. Breakfast is ready.”

They left the bathroom and sure enough breakfast was waiting on the table by the window. They sat and as they began to eat Dominic spoke: “I know you have many questions, and I am prepared to answer them. Some of the things you will be seeing today will surely raise even more questions, so perhaps we should get started.”

Michael looked out the window, enjoying the taste of his coffee. He felt very calm and relaxed. He still couldn’t believe what had just happened, but he did realize he was getting used to being naked and erect in front of Dominic. That was fine. But there was still much on his mind.

“Sengita and Mandy are slaves,” he said. “But they don’t seem very unhappy about it.”

“They are quite happy when they are not being punished, and when they have their Master’s attention. But it was not always this way. They have been very well trained – each of them.”

“Where do you find these girls?”

“It is a long process. Not everyone can be trained to be a suitable slave. Of course they must be young and beautiful, and it must be possible for them to disappear without raising too much suspicion. But more than that, they must be susceptible to traumatic learning. You know of this.”

“Of course.” Michael recalled some early classes in Psychology. “It is an important survival strategy left over from evolutionary times. When a person is in a position of severe stress the brain decides the lessons to be learned are essential for survival, and they are imprinted very deeply. At the level of a person’s moral code. But this is most common in children.”

“We do not use children.” Dominic’s voice was matter-of-fact. “But we find that teens and even young adults are quite susceptible when you find the correct stressors. For some it is pain, for others it is humiliation. For many the combination can be quite effective. The process takes some time, but in the end the slave’s devotion to her Master is as strong as any religious belief. Stronger.”

“But Sengita does not act like a slave.”

“Ah. And how is a slave to act? Michael, you must understand. We could suppress a slave’s personality and turn her into a drone. But we could never give someone Sengita’s spark if it were not there to begin with. And if it is there, why would you suppress it? It is beautiful.”

Michael was quiet, taking this in.

“Michael, the slaves I create are not the sad faced, fucksack whores you will find in any brothel. These girls are being prepared to serve some of the wealthiest and most intelligent and discerning men in the world. These men can beat and fuck a whore anytime. I deal with men who want something different - something quite special. They want a woman who is stunningly beautiful and talented – someone truly desirable who will engage them and impress their friends. But they also want someone who is utterly obedient, and will submit to the most wonderful punishments and humiliations. Someone who can entertain at the head of an elegant dinner table, perhaps, and then at her Master’s order climb on top of it to spread her cunt lips while one of the guests gives her a good pussy whipping.”

Dominic seemed pleased with this image, and he smiled. “Perhaps this guest didn’t agree with something she said.”

Michael came out of his reverie with a chuckle. Like so much of what he had learned about Dominic and his business, it did make sense. “Amazing,” he said. “You make it sound like finishing school.”

Dominic laughed. “Well, yes, I suppose that’s exactly what it is. I did once have a man ask me to train his daughter. But he wanted her back, and I couldn’t do it. You can’t have a girl go though our training and then come back to everyone who knew her. People would get curious. The girls must disappear.”

Michael looked at Dominic. “I don’t suppose they are so happy when they first get here.”

Dominic looked back. “No. They are not so happy. But they are still gorgeous.” His gaze was steady, but then he was the first to look away. “Ah well, I see that now you have had your breakfast you want to know how the sausages are made. Well, it is time – I will show you. Come.”

They rose from the table. Dominic went to open the door, then put his hand on Michael’s shoulder as he went through it. “We have a lovely new one – just arrived,” he said.

Toilet Slave

Claire

Michael and Dominic walked down the hallway outside Michael’s bedroom, emerging into a large living room with high ceilings and a view through several floor length windows onto the back of the estate. The furnishings were all in a traditional French style – to Michael’s eye they appeared to be genuine antiques. Like everything else he had seen, it suggested impeccable taste and a love of quality, free of any concern for expense.

As they strode through the room their silk gowns flowed around them and swirled back with each firm step to reveal their nakedness. The air was fresh and fragrant – windows were open somewhere - and Michael’s mind was clear. Yet, as they approached an ornately carved wooden door at the far side of the room, he felt a twinge of anxiety in his stomach. He began to realize that he might be about to face another test.

Dominic seemed to sense this as well. He paused at the door and turned. Michael was surprised to see he had a concerned look on his face. “Michael, I have made a decision to move rather quickly in your education. This is a risk, and it may prove to be a mistake.”

“But,” he continued, his voice softer, “I believe there may be no choice.”

Michael said nothing. He continued to look at Dominic, trying to read his face. He realized again that he truly liked and trusted this man. He was almost reaching out to touch his shoulder when Dominic spoke again: “Michael, you understand that there is nothing you need conceal about yourself while you are in this house. Absolutely no-one knows what goes on here. No-one will ever know.”

Michael looked at him for a moment longer, and then he moved away, taking a step toward the large windows. He stood looking at the fields and trees that stretched into the distance. He was aware of his faint reflection in the glass.

Michael knew the concern. On the other side of that door he would surely confront the reality of a woman being tortured into submission. A woman who, unlike Mandy or Sengita, did not want to be there. How would he react?

Michael’s hands rose up and came to rest on the back of his head. He stretched, closed his eyes and opened his mind. He had been with several women in his life. He had enjoyed them – some he had even called his “partners”. He liked their shape, their smell. He liked bringing them to orgasm – watching them lose control. He liked it when a woman fell in love with him.

But he knew that none of those relationships had lasted. And he knew that no matter how good the sex he had never stopped fantasizing, or watching porn. And he liked violent porn. He had a good collection of torture videos. It was true that the women in these videos were willing victims – paid models with “safe words”. But there was also no doubt the pain they experienced was real. And that was the part he enjoyed. He liked it especially when a woman had been told to watch the camera while she was beaten. Stepping the action forward frame by frame he would look into her eyes and watch her agonized reactions. He would stroke himself gently, enjoying the sight of his hard cock in front of that picture of female suffering. Those were always his best orgasms.

Best orgasms? Wait a minute. Michael realized suddenly that everything he had enjoyed to that moment paled in comparison to what he had experienced the previous night. Never in his life had he come like that, with Mandy writhing in pain on his cock.

Could he torture a woman? The answer came from his belly. The feeling grew inside him, and he looked down to see his cock swelling and rising heavily before him. Oh yes. He turned to face Dominic and his rampant cock was his answer. “I’m ready,” he said.

* * *

Some distance away, in another room of the mansion, a young woman was awakening. Her name was Claire Sutherland, and she did not know where she was.

Three weeks earlier she had known. She had just graduated from law school, and was looking forward to starting her first job at the local prosecutor’s office. But first she had decided to take a trip to Europe to spend some time relaxing on the beach. On her own, she landed at the Athens airport, planning to rent a car and head off to the ferry terminal in Pireaus. But she had felt dizzy getting off the plane, and the last she remembered she had been leaning at the sink in the ladies’ room, trying to keep from fainting.

Claire opened her eyes slowly. She realized she was sitting in a large armchair, still dressed in the suit she had been wearing on the plane. But her feet were bare – she had no shoes or socks. She looked around, seeing that she was in what could be a hotel room – a bed, a dresser, a closet, a main door and another door that could lead to a washroom. But no windows. And no telephone. Where was she?

She stood up. Her head was fuzzy, but she was OK. Behind the smaller door there was indeed a spacious washroom. The sink was quite luxurious – it had a large mirror behind it – but the shower was simply a shower head and a drain in the floor at the other end of the room. She turned and walked to the main door. Locked.

Claire stood looking at the door handle for a few moments, and she then began to tremble. She had been kidnapped – no doubt. Someone – maybe that guy next to her on the plane – had drugged her and she had been kidnapped. She raised her hands to her face and took several deep breaths. Be calm! Think!

She forced herself to stand up straight and returned to the center of the room. Then she began to explore the room more thoroughly. She looked in all the drawers, the closet, under the sink. Nothing – all completely empty.

Claire stood and looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She straightened up, staring directly at her reflection, and squared her shoulders. The woman she saw was no victim. She was a successful student. She had been president of the Women in Law Society at her school. She had taken courses in self defense. She did not know what was coming, but she would be ready.

* * *

“You have taken on a challenge, Sir.”

Jaffa was speaking as Michael and Dominic entered the room behind the carved door. Hanging from the ceiling in front of a row of dark gray curtains was a large flat panel screen. On it, staring directly at them, was a young woman. She was dressed in a business suit that looked a bit rumpled, and as Michael watched she stood up straight and smoothed the fabric of the skirt across her hips, squaring her shoulders.

“Nice tits.”

It was the first time he had heard Jaffa chuckle. “Your son has a way with words,” he said to Dominic.

The girl on the screen was short with dark hair that came to her shoulders. Her face was attractive but hard – her lips were stretched thinly in a look of worry and determination. But her body, even under the tailored fabric of her suit, was voluptuously curved. Her waist was thin and her hips flared out – Michael could not see her ass but he knew it would be round and firm. And her tits – the suit made it hard to judge, but the fabric bulged smoothly from just below her shoulders down nearly to her waist. It was as if the suit had been designed to subdue an ample bosom, but to Michael it meant hidden promise.

Dominic began to speak. “Michael, this is Claire Sutherland. She is a young student just out of law school. She is smart and politically active and I must say she is quite the feminist. Apparently she and a few of her female friends found some of their classroom exercises distasteful. So one of the things she did as president of her “Women in Law Society” is fight for an initiative she called: “There’s No Defense for Scum”. She argued that no female law student should ever have to argue the case for a male in any dispute with a woman. She now wants to become a prosecutor so that she can put men who dominate their women into jail.”

Michael at this point began to realize that the camera was pointed through a mirror at Claire – that she did not know she was being watched. His cock jerked at the thought and he leaned to watch more closely.

Dominic continued: “We are going to turn her into a sex toy.”

At this point, as Michael watched, a door that he could see behind Claire opened and two rather large men appeared. Claire turned quickly, and Michael saw that he had been right about her ass. Claire walked toward the men, and Michael could hear what she said from a speaker in the screen.

“Who are you! What am I doing here! You will tell me at once!”

The two men stood side by side in front of the door for a moment, and then one of them spoke in an Arabic accent. “If you will come with us your questions may be answered.”

Claire looked at them for a moment, no doubt judging her chances and deciding she would not get far against two large men. Nonetheless her voice got louder. “What am I doing here!” she demanded. “You have no right to keep me here!”

The two men said nothing, but began to approach her slowly. “No! Stay away from me!” The men reached her, and one of them grabbed a wrist. Claire aimed an expert kick toward his groin, but the man was expecting it, and dodged easily. The other man grabbed her other wrist and moments later Clair was bent forward, both her arms held painfully behind her back. She tried to stomp on the men’s feet, but they jerked her wrists upwards until the pain grew so intense she started to collapse to her knees. The men forced her down until her head was almost to the floor.

“You will get to your feet and you will come with us or we will break your arms. Do you understand?”

“Aagghh! Stop!”

“Do you understand?”

Aughh! You fucking Bastards!”

“Do you understand!”

Claire’s head was on the floor now, and all Michael could see was her ass stuck up in the air with her skirt at mid thigh. She had nice legs, and her ass was round and firm..

She continued gasping but gradually her struggles stopped while the two men held her down. Then, slowly they relaxed the pressure and lifted, letting Claire rise to her feet. “You will come with us now.” The men started towards the door, with Claire stumbling between them, arms still tightly held behind her back. She seemed in shock. Moments after they left the screen went blank and started rising toward the ceiling.

Dominic turned. “So now it begins,” he said. He was looking closely at Michael. A moment later he continued: “Michael, the room we are in was designed so that our customers could come and watch the final preparation of their future slaves. It has some features that make it quite ideal for this purpose. I will ask you to remain here while I attend to our new guest. Again I must ask you to trust me in this – you are not yet ready to take on a trainee, and you will learn much by observing. Is this acceptable to you?

Michael shrugged his shoulders. “Of course.” He was in no position to disagree – he had no idea what would happen next. In fact he felt a certain relief to know that he could simply watch. Still, he was curious. “Why should I stay here? Could I not watch in person?”

“Mmm, well, yes, it could happen that way, and it may soon. But customer service is part of the business, and you should learn this as well. You will enjoy this, I think.”

Dominic’s eyes were smiling, and once again Michael found himself trusting the man.

“Here. Please take a seat.” Dominic pointed to a very plush leather chair that faced the wall of curtains. “Jaffa and I will leave you here. Don’t worry – your needs will be attended to.” With that they both left through another door to the side of the curtained wall.

Michael stood behind the chair taking things in. The room was small and essentially bare of furnishings but for the screen that had placed itself flat against the ceiling above him and the luxurious chair that sat, rather strangely, facing the curtained wall from only about three feet away. Feeling a bit strange himself, he moved around the chair and examined the curtains. He found the opening right in front of the chair, but as he reached in to pull them back there was a soft humming, and they began to move of themselves. They parted to reveal a dark pane of glass – black and reflective like a window at night. It was large, perhaps six feet across and it went from the floor almost to the ceiling.

Michael sat in the chair and looked at the glass. He realized that again he was looking at a one-way mirror, and that when the lights in the other room came on he would see in but the occupant of that room would see only a reflection. Indeed as he watched he noticed his room was getting darker, and at the same time he began to see the room beyond. The light was coming from a series of large bulbs surrounding the glass on the other side, making it look like he was looking through a large studio mirror.

The immediately obvious thing on the other side was a pair of posts that rose from the floor about three feet apart and about four feet high. They were bright and shiny, as if made from stainless steel. On the top of each was a short loop of leather. Apart from that there was a large armoire on the back wall and a door. That was it.

As he watched the door opened and Claire was brought in. She was still bent at the waist, her hands held painfully behind. The two men marched her to the posts, and held her there a moment between them. Then, while one man continued to hold her left arm, the other swiftly brought her right one forward and in an expert move forced her hand through the loop, which quickly tightened over her wrist. Quickly her other arm was attached, and the men stood back. Then, just as swiftly they attached her ankles to the base of each post with bands that they took from their pockets. One last look, and then they left, closing the door behind them.

At first Claire couldn’t believe the relief she felt in her shoulders. She hunched and rolled them, and then tossed her head to get the hair out of her face. Then she froze, confronted with her starkly bright image in the mirror. She was standing with her legs spread and her wrists at the level of her breasts. She looked awful. Her suit was rumpled, her hair was a mess, her face was gaunt and her eyes were red from the tears forced out during her struggles.

In a sudden eruption of fury she jerked and jumped, trying to move her arms or her legs – anything to get free. Nothing gave. Then she focused on her wrists. The leather seemed to disappear back into the post – there was no end she could bite – nothing to get a hold of. She raised a leg and leaned down to bite at the strap on her ankle, but it was too far. She jerked back and forth trying to move the posts. Solid.

The door behind her opened once again, and this time Dominic came in, still in his dressing gown. Claire looked up and saw him in the mirror. She watched him intensely as he approached stopping a few feet behind her. Dominic looked at her calmly, then in an curious motion moved to place some small objects in his ears.

“Who are you! What am I doing here!”

“My name is Dominic D’Attilio. And you are here at my pleasure.”

“Fuck You Asshole! You are a fucking criminal! You will pay for this!”

“I think not. I intend to be well rewarded.”

Claire stared furiously at him for a moment. “You ignorant, fucking, shithead! You will not get away with this!” She was stretching forward toward his image now, her face working itself into an appalling twisted vision of hate. “YOU WILL PAY!”

Dominic was smiling. “My greatest reward may be in seeing you become a real woman.”

Claire was transfixed for an instant, her face a mix of shock and horror. Then she began to scream. It was not a scream for help. It was a scream of rage. A scream of pure hatred aimed directly at the man in the mirror. Impossibly loud - a scream that was a weapon, to wither an opponent with its fury and its seething anger.

Behind the glass Michael was blown back in his chair. Dominic was standing such that Claire seemed to be looking at a point just above Michael’s head. Her hands clenched and unclenched, the tendons in her neck stood out like taut ropes, and her eyes – her eyes were filled with the most intense and focused hatred Michael had ever seen. Even now this woman had power – the power of a caged lioness glaring at her captor.

Dominic stood watching her, his earplugs deflecting much of her fury. Gradually the screams became raspier and softer until Claire was left panting deeply, her eyes still fixed on the man in the mirror. Dominic turned and went to the large armoire, opening it to reveal a series of drawers. Opening one he reached in and then returned with a rather large pair of scissors.

Moving directly behind Claire he reached with his left hand to grab a large handful of hair at the back of her head. He pulled sharply up and back so that Claire’s neck was exposed and she had to face him in the mirror. She snarled but said nothing. He held the scissors near her ear. “Snip! Snip!” The metal flashed in the bright light. “Snip! Snip!”

Michael was now completely engrossed in the scene. He stood up, his calves pushing on the chair and with surprisingly little force it rolled smoothly away. He moved to the point where it appeared Claire was looking directly at him. His fingers reached for the base of his cock, circling behind his balls and pulling everything into prominence in front of him. His gown fell off his shoulders, unnoticed.

The scissors were razor sharp. Dominic opened them and slid one blade beneath the top button on Claire’s suit. A sharp flick and the button was gone. Then the next one, and the next. Dominic drove his left elbow between her shoulderblades and pulled back her head. The last button flew off as her back arched and the jacket parted. Underneath was a formal blouse of thick cotton, but now Michael could see the shape of her trapped breast flesh spreading out across her chest.

“Woah!” Michael was talking to himself now.

The scissors went for the next row of buttons. Claire’s eyes closed and she once again began to scream and shake herself violently, unmindful of the pain in her scalp. Dominic moved the scissors away, holding her in his left hand, waiting. Her screaming was not as loud, and Michael started to hear an edge of despair in her voice. But when her eyes opened her face showed no defeat.

Dominic pulled back again and the scissors did their work. When the buttons were gone he suddenly released her head and reached around her with both hands to grab her blouse where it entered the skirt. He pulled back viciously, then transferred the fabric to one hand and sliced both layers behind each shoulder right to the collar. A last cut and he threw the useless clothes behind him, leaving the girl standing in her bra. Swiftly he moved to the skirt. One sharp tug and it was at her knees, trapping her legs. Another long slice up the back and it was gone.

Michael had moved so that his head was almost touching the glass in front of him. His eyes roved up and down girl so brightly displayed only a few feet away. Her underwear was functional - solid cotton panties that came to her waist and a very large but plain bra that covered all but the barest hint of flesh at the top. But these remaining garments could no longer hide her stunning body. Claire’s upper thighs and hips were thick and round, but Michael could tell that it was all muscle. Her belly was flat and slim. And her breasts -- even in such an ugly bra it was clear they were large – perhaps very large. And on her short frame they looked enormous.

Dominic approached her once again from behind. He stood between her legs and pushed his thighs against her ass, so that Claire was held tightly by the straps on her ankles and wrists. Her head went back and she let out a wail as the scissors once again attended to their duties. They clipped the straps to her bra, and then, from the bottom, one swift cut. The bra flew apart and her breasts were free. They were gorgeous natural hangers – large and wide against her chest with dark aureolae and nipples. Claire looked at them too, in the mirror, and the sharp movements of her anguished face were in stark contrast to the soft ripples that moved through her breasts.

Two more snips and Dominic had the last of her modesty in his hands. He pulled and Michael watched as her white panties disappeared like a snake between her legs.

“Well! What have we here? A shaved pussy?” Dominic was laughing. Claire crouched forward, bringing her elbows in and closing her thighs as much as she could. Her head fell, her hair falling over her face, her breasts dangling below. “Did you do that for me? I like a shaved pussy. How very nice of you to go to all that trouble!”

Dominic grabbed her hair from behind again and straightened her up, arching her back. Michael watched as her breasts spread out across her chest. They were soft, like Sengita’s, and looked even larger against Claire’s smaller frame. “Show me your shaved pussy, Claire. Spread your legs and show me your shaved pussy.”

“Aughh! Fuck you Asshole!”

“Let’s talk about why you keep it shaved. Does your girlfriend like it that way?”

“Fuck Off! Arggh!” Once again Claire started to violently shake herself back and forth, desperately trying to get a hand or a foot free. But this time she was naked, and Michael was greeted with an incredible display of breastflesh violently jiggling and coursing back and forth across her chest. He still had hold of his cock, and now he reached down with his other hand to grab the shaft. Feeling it, he looked down. He had never seen himself so large.

“Ah well, we’ll find out soon enough.” Dominic went back to the armoire and reached into another drawer, coming out with a small black object. He pushed a button, and suddenly Claire stood up in fright. The posts were moving! Gradually they leaned outwards and lengthened, pulling her wrists out and up until she was stretched taut, with her arms in the air, held more widely than her legs. Claire looked around in fright as she had to rise on her toes to hold her weight.

Dominic replaced the controller, and came to stand beside her. Casually he reached down to cradle her pussy, letting his middle finger run along the opening. He spoke softly: “You will learn to lubricate yourself as your Master approaches. Your body will ache with longing for his dominance.”

Claire stared softly up into his eyes for a moment, and then suddenly Dominic ducked his head behind her upraised arm. A large ball of spit flew past him.

“Oh I am going to enjoy training you!” Dominic was safely behind her again, and he was laughing with genuine pleasure. The anger was back in Claire’s eyes and she stared at him fiercely. He palmed her right ass cheek and then his fingers dug in, giving her a hard jiggle.

“But, I must say it has been a most pleasurable morning. Time for lunch, I think. You won’t mind waiting, will you?” Dominic smiled again and then turned to leave.

“You ignorant fucking cunt! Arghh!” Claire shook herself trying to move the posts. Her breasts were more shapely in this position, and they moved like soft globes back and forth across her stretched ribs.

Dominic paused before closing the door. “My, my. Such language!”

Michael was left stunned. When Dominic returned, he could only stand there naked, his body outlined in stark relief by the light coming through the mirror.

“Well, that was a good morning. Time for some lunch, I think. Care to join me?”

* * *

Toilet Slave

Claire’s Ordeal

Claire was left alone with her image in the bright mirror. The leather around her wrists was supple, but her arms were stretched so tightly it was hurting her shoulders. She managed to rise up on her toes and brace her heels against the uprights to get a little relief.

The room was warm but Claire felt herself trembling. She was scared – really scared. She knew absolutely that she was going to be raped. Worse, she could be killed - her battered body could end up in a dumpster somewhere. With a conscious effort she closed her eyes and tried drive the images from her mind. It worked for a short time, but then once again she angrily shook herself and struggled with her bonds. Her breasts made a soft slapping noise as they moved across her chest and she stopped, hating them. All her life her response to fear and challenge was to resist and attack. Now her efforts just made the display of her body more lewd and obscene.

“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!”

The sound of her voice echoed briefly in the room and then died off to the same silence. She opened her eyes -- still there, still naked, still exposed. There was pain in her shoulders and her calves were beginning to feel the strain of keeping her on tiptoes. She leaned her head back, arching her body, trying to find a way to get more comfortable. Nothing worked. She could only relax for so long before she had to shift into another position.

Time passed. Ten minutes – a half hour? Only her breathing, her discomfort, and in the mirror her stark naked image staring back at her.

The pain in her shoulders and calves was slowly growing more intense and new aches were appearing in her back and thighs. Claire began to long for relief, for a change, even if it could mean something worse.

Rape. She was going to be raped. Some fucking, useless, loser, lowlife MAN forcing himself into her. Taking pleasure from her humiliation and pain. “Well, he might as well kill me,” she thought, “because it’s going to be like fucking a dead body.” Ahh Fuck, no, that wasn’t it. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to kill.

“FUCK!”

Time passed and gradually Claire’s movements became less agitated and her mood stabilized. There would be no room for despair or humiliation. She was filling herself with hate.

* * *

“Well, now that was a good lunch. And we have the most pleasant afternoon ahead of us.” Dominic leaned back in his chair with a sigh. The curtain was drawn once again, the screen was down, and the lights were on. Dominic and Michael were seated at a table that Jaffa had set up and furnished with food and drink. Jaffa was standing beside them.

“What will you do next?”

“I suppose there are several ways one could proceed. Jaffa, what do you think?”

Jaffa had been watching the screen while they ate. “Mmm. We have not done the usual scans as yet. But I would bet that pain will be the key that unlocks this particular treasure. And she has been looking at her breasts with some disdain . . . .”

“Interesting.” Dominic paused to look up at the screen himself. Claire was slowly shifting from side to side to relieve the pain in her shoulders. Her soft breasts swung with her, back and forth. “Why someone would dislike such a lovely large pair of tits I don’t know. There’s nothing that moves quite so nicely as natural breast flesh.”

Dominic looked back at Jaffa. “All right. I’ll need you to get the equipment and I’ll need your help in setting things up. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Jaffa bowed slightly and started to clear away what was left of the dishes. Expertly, he carried it all with him as he left.

Michael was curious. “What have you planned? What is going to happen?”

“Oh, well, I think it will be fun to keep you in suspense. You won’t be bored, I assure you. I’ve arranged for you to have quite an interesting afternoon,” Dominic smiled and stood up, then walked to the door. Before leaving he gestured briefly toward the chair that was back facing the curtain. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said before turning to go.

Michael approached the back of the chair and the room went dark once again. The curtains parted and there was Claire stretched out before him. She looked gorgeous – a firm body but wonderfully voluptuous. Her skin had taken on a soft sweaty sheen that reflected her curves. Her calves and thighs were round and her hips flared smoothly from her waist. He leaned toward the glass to look more closely at her shaven cunt. A delightfully smooth mound of flesh divided by a simple gash – the inner lips were hidden. And her breasts –large and mobile, swaying with her movements. The nipples and aureolae were a soft pink, only slightly darker than her skin.

Then Michael looked at her face, and he almost had to step back. This girl was in pain but she was focused and determined and angry. The contrast of that hard face with her helpless body could not have been more stark. Michael sat back in his chair and spread his gown, revealing his growing cock.

“Please, Sir. I … I don’t want to disturb you, Sir.”

The voice came from behind him. Michael sat up sharply and turned his head. The only light in the room was coming through the glass, and in its glow he saw a vision. Mandy. She had entered the room quietly and was now on her knees just a few feet away. She wore nothing but a white thong and her hands were held behind her head. Her incredible breasts were thrust forward by the arch in her back and her eyes were downcast.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Sir. But my master instructed me to be with you this afternoon.”

“Mandy!” Michael expelled a breath in surprise and pleasure. “Come here.” Mandy shuffled forward on her knees until her face was close to his. Michael was overwhelmed. Her breasts looked and moved even better than he remembered. She smelled fabulous - freshly bathed and perfumed. He took her face in his hands: “Look at me.”

Mandy looked up. Her eyes were pools of doubt and concern. She seemed ready to cry. “Mandy. Just what did your Master tell you to do?”

“Oh, Sir. He said I was to serve you as I would serve him.”

Michael held her face. He began to realize some things, but the implications were too profound to take in all at once. He spoke: “Have you served another before this?”

“No, Sir. I have only ever served my Master.” Mandy’s eyes were filling with tears. “Except . . . for yesterday, Sir.”

Michael held her firmly, staring into her eyes. He simply could not believe the submission he saw there. She was placing herself in his hands without knowledge or trust. Only obedience to her Master. And sadness – why? And fear. She was shivering with fear.

Michael put aside some of his thoughts and questions for later. For the moment he knew what to do. His hands became a bit more gentle, but he spoke firmly: “Mandy, I am going to watch the training of this new slave. You will place yourself between my legs and you will give your undivided attention to the pleasure of my cock. You will use your fingers and tongue and you will worship my cock and my balls, and my asshole. You will not make me come unless I give you permission. You will do your very best to please me. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.” Mandy’s face lost some of its fear, and became even more stunningly beautiful as she accepted his orders. “Thank you, Sir.”

Michael let go and Mandy moved in front of him, between his legs. She reached for his cock and, raising it gently from his belly, she gave the shaft a light kiss and then laid it softly against her face. A hand went to his balls and gathered them gently under her chin. Michael lay back in his chair again, spreading his legs widely and raising them to rest on the upholstered arms. He looked up in anticipation to watch the scene unfold in front of him.

* * *

Claire heard the door open behind her and she opened her eyes sharply. The first thing she saw entering the room was a wheeled tray covered with a white cloth. It was followed by a large brown skinned man who pushed the tray up beside her. Behind him she saw Dominic enter again. She looked down at the tray in the mirror and with dawning horror she saw an array of medical equipment including two large hypodermic needles. She looked up at Dominic, astonishment and fear entering her eyes.

The large man moved behind her and smoothly pushed his much larger body into hers. In the mirror Claire’s head did not even reach the man’s armpits. Claire was stretched even more tightly and gave out a groan as her shoulders flexed. Then the man reached around her with two hands and grabbed her breasts from below. His hands were large as he gathered them, pushing them out and away from her chest. His fingers dug in, presenting her nipples at the front in firm round circles of flesh.

Dominic moved in front of her. His face was calm and focused. Taking one of the large syringes, he presented the tip to the end of her right nipple.

“What the fuck are you doing! Stop!”

Dominic did not respond. The needle was long – four inches or more – but in Jaffa’s grip her breast was stretched far out from her chest and there was plenty of room. The needle went in to the hilt. Then, carefully holding the barrel in his left hand, Dominic picked up the other syringe and guided the needle through her left nipple and deep into her other breast.

“What’s happening! What are you doing!!?”

Dominic seemed to relax. He held the barrels of each syringe steadily and looked up. Claire was absolutely still, her eyes large. The needles had not hurt, much, but she knew that any movement might cause serious damage. Finally Dominic spoke:

“We shall have some amusement with you this afternoon, my dear. These syringes contain an alkaloid compound. It is a derivative of the poison in a particular tropical plant. You will find that it causes exquisite pain.” He leaned closer to her face. “Without an antidote, this pain will last many weeks. It has been known to drive men insane.”

Claire was looking at him as if he were completely mad. “You fucking Nazi!”

Dominic continued brightly: “You will be pleased to know that I also have the antidote, and I can administer it to you if you like. Jaffa?”

Jaffa reached a bit further forward and cradled the syringe barrels carefully in the ends of two fingers. Dominic let go and reached once more for the tray. He picked up another syringe that was much smaller, and seemed to hold only a very little liquid. “The antidote is in fact quite harmless in every way, and extremely effective. It can be injected, or taken orally, vaginally, or as a suppository in the rectum. It provides complete relief.”

Dominic held up the syringe and said: “This is all that I have left.” He then reached down to open his gown and exposed himself. Reaching down with his left hand he held out his balls from underneath. Then, with surprisingly little fuss he took the needle and very gently stuck it into one of his testicles and injected himself.

“Mmmph! Ouch! Well, I’m glad that’s done!”

Claire’s face had a look of stunned bewilderment.

“Well now, let’s get started.” Dominic moved in front of Claire once again, took each syringe in hand and placed his thumbs over the plungers. He first pushed the needles deeper into her breasts, feeling for her ribs. Then in a slow even motion he began to pull them out. As he pulled he depressed the plungers, distributing the poison as evenly as possible along the way, depositing the final drops within her nipples. Claire looked down at her breasts, speechless with horror.

The syringes were empty when they finally emerged. At a nod from Dominic, Jaffa released her breasts, which assumed their normal round and slightly pendulous shape on Claire’s torso. Dominic placed everything back on the tray, and then reached out to take each breast from underneath. His fingers closed around them as he pulled them gently outwards. Jaffa continued to press her forward.

“This is my favorite part,” Dominic said softly, looking down at the soft flesh in his hands and kneading gently. “It’s like a childhood fantasy.”

Claire began to feel something from deep inside her breasts. It began as a sharp itch that quickly grew in intensity, becoming a fiery pain before she could think. She hissed an intake of breath between her clenched teeth, and then let out a yell: “Argghh! Fuck! FUCK!”

Dominic watched eagerly, his fingers feeling for the core of her breasts. He squeezed and kneaded, and his cock stiffened as he began to feel the swelling begin from deep inside. Soon his fingers were pushed apart by the firm growth spreading through Claire’s flesh. Her breasts grew in his hands, losing their softness, growing firm and taut. The nipples grew as well, pushing stiffly against his palms.

Claire could not believe the pain she was feeling. It was like her breasts were on fire. Like her flesh had been bathed in burning, caustic acid. And the pressure! The weight! Her stretched skin would burst! Explode!

* * *

Behind the glass Mandy’s tongue had found its target and was probing gently. The delicate fingers of one hand reached up to encircle Michael’s cock at the base and the other was against her forehead cupping his balls from underneath.

Michael was looking up. He could not see Claire’s breasts behind Dominic’s shoulders, but he could see her face. It was amazing how quickly that face had changed. Now it was shock and surprise and intense pain that he saw there. The hatred was gone. He spread his legs wider and leaned back, his hands moving behind his head.

* * *

In Dominic’s hands, Claire’s breasts had achieved cartoonish proportions. They stood out large on her chest; round and firm and convex on the top and sides. They had grown in weight as well as size, and their color had deepened to an angry purplish red that was closely matched only by the color of her anguished face.

Dominic shifted his hands to hold her breasts from the sides. With widespread fingers he pushed them together to make an enormous cleavage. Claire let out a cry of pain and Dominic looked up. He continued to squeeze, kneading her with his fingertips, watching her scream. He could play that face, squeezing and probing, a conductor in a symphony of pain.

After short time he softened his grip and spoke to Jaffa: “I think one behind her back and one above her knees will do nicely.” Jaffa nodded, and went to the closet at the back of the room, returning with two thin round tubes of metal. Each had leather straps at either end. Jaffa fixed the longer one across between the two uprights so that it crossed Claire’s back just below her shoulderblades. Claire’s body was forced into an arch, thrusting her swollen breasts harder into Dominic’s hands. Then he came to the front with the other bar and, with some effort and pushing, he attached it across the front of Claire’s thighs. Then both he and Dominic stepped back.

The effect was dramatic. Clair’s spread legs rose perfectly straight to her ass, which was now thrust roundly backwards. Her lower back was almost horizontal as it arched into her torso, and on the front her enormous round and red breasts stood out proudly like beacons. With her upstretched arms and arched back she could have been a figurehead on a pirate pleasure ship.

“Well, isn’t that nice,” said Dominic. “All right, Jaffa, thank you. I don’t think I’ll be needing you now.” Jaffa made a slight bow and left.

Dominic moved in front of Claire once again and placed his hands over her breasts, feeling her nipples press into his palms. His fingers spread wide, and then squeezed, grabbing her and pulling like he was trying to hold a basketball in each hand. He looked directly into her anguished eyes. “The pain is going to get worse,” he said. “The body starts to break down the poison into simpler compounds, but these are also poisonous, and attack different nerves. So the pain you feel constantly changes and evolves – you never get used to it.”

Claire heard him speak but she did not understand the words. The pain she felt was unbelievable. Each of Dominic’s fingertips felt like it was firing lightning shocks into her breasts. And when he moved and squeezed it would start a fireworks of shooting pain that spread out through her chest and shoulders. The pain overwhelmed her – it took over her mind. She was nowhere inside her head – the pain was everywhere, everything.

Dominic looked at her coolly, seeing the vacant agony in her eyes. “It seems you might need a diversion,” he said quietly. He let go and moved once again to the cupboard, returning with a heavy long cane. Taking up a position at her side, he laid a hard stroke across her well presented ass. Claire’s body spasmed from the blow. He laid another, then another, pausing only to watch the effects of each stroke in the mirror.

* * *

Mandy’s tongue was now probing more deeply. She had turned her head sideways to get closer, and her hands were gently stroking Michael’s shaft. It stood straight in the air, waving gently, occasionally jerking of its own accord.

* * *

From somewhere Claire’s mind took notice of the new indignities and tried to make sense of them. Her eyes opened and she took in the sight of the image in the mirror. Slowly she realized it was she with the enormous breasts, and that it was she being caned on the ass by this man. She saw the next stroke rise and fall, and as the pain radiated outwards she started to scream.

“Aughhh!! Stop! Please Stop!” Tears flooded her eyes and flowed down her face, mixing at her chin with drool from her mouth. “Stop! Please!”

“That’s better,” said Dominic, and aimed another blow. “Welcome back!”

He laid one more, then placed the cane on the tray and returned to look Claire in the eyes. This time she was there, staring back in piteous agony. “So, you have returned. Do you remember where you are?”

Claire’s mouth opened and closed, but she did not speak. Dominic took her breasts gently from underneath, lifting their heavy weight in his hands. “Have you figured out how you can make the pain go away? Have you?”

A shocking image of Dominic injecting himself came into Claire’s mind. Her eyes grew even wider. “You . . .”

“Yes, I did. And you must get it out somehow. What would you suggest?”

Claire knew what she had to say. Even through her pain she could feel a nauseous wave of humiliation rising in her throat. “No! Please, No!” Her voice was soft, choked with pain. “Please No!”

“It’s all there is, Claire. There isn’t any more. How will you get it out. Claire? How will you do it?”

“Nooo! No, Please!” Claire shook her head from side to side, the shame and despair flooding her mind. “No! Don’t make me!”

“Don’t make you what, Claire? What do you have to do to feel better?” He began to lift her breasts up so that they bulged on the top and framed her face as he stared into her agony. “What do you want to do, Claire?”

“Ahh, Ha! I have to make you come!” Claire was sobbing openly now, her face a picture of misery and defeat. “Wahh! I have to make you come.”

“Clever girl! And how will you do that, Claire?” Dominic was starting to squeeze her breasts now from below, making them bulge lewdly below her face. “How will you make me come, Claire?”

“Oww! Oh Stop! Please!” The intense pain in Claire’s breasts finally pushed through all her remaining resistance. She needed the antidote. She had nothing left.

“Ahhh! I’ll suck you off! Let me suck you off! I need it!”

“What do you need, Claire?”

“I need your come! I need it! Please!”

“But what if I don’t want you to suck me off? What if I would rather fuck you in the ass? Would that be all right?”

“Oh, God! Yes! Fuck me in the ass! Please!”

“What about your cunt, Claire? Shall I fuck you there?”

“Yes! Fuck my cunt! Please!”

Dominic stepped back, his hands still holding her tortured breasts. “Very good!” he said. “But now we have to make a choice, don’t we? Which shall it be? Mouth? Ass? Cunt? Which one do you want the most, Claire?”

Claire looked at him in pure agony. She had been taken down so far, and still it continued. “Oh, fuck! I don’t know! Whatever you want!”

“But Claire, I want to know what you want.” His right hand dropped, releasing her breast, and then rose sharply to strike it from below. “Whap!” Her breast rose upward to her chin, then fell heavily to her chest. Claire’s face registered incredible, intense, and shocking pain.

“What do you want, Claire?” The other hand dropped, and rose again sharply. “Whap!”

“Mouth, ass or cunt, Claire. Which shall it be?”

Claire made her choice. She wanted the medicine in her mouth. It would work there. It would be relief.

“Please let me suck you off! I need your come! I need your cock in my mouth!”

“Whap!” “Say it louder, Claire! Convince me!” “Whap! Whap!” Claire’s tortured breasts were in constant motion, dancing heavily above Dominic’s hands .

Claire screamed. “I NEED YOUR COCK IN MY MOUTH NOW! PLEASE! I NEED YOUR COCK NOW!”

“Excellent!” Dominic reached for the tray, which also held a controller. He pushed a button and the bars retreated slightly into the floor. Then he moved around her, removing the crossbars. He pushed the button again and Claire’s hands began to move down. He kept pushing until her head was at the right level, her hands close to her feet. Claire was bent at the waist, her ass high, her tits enormous as they hung swaying underneath. She raised her head as Dominic took up position in front of her again.

* * *

“You may take me in your mouth now. Keep a finger in my ass.”

* * *

Dominic spread his robes to reveal his hard cock. He waved the head slowly front of Claire’s face watching as her eyes followed it back and forth. Claire opened her mouth wide, reaching for him. Dominic paused, then entered.

* * *

“That’s right! Slide up and down gently now. Hold my balls.”

* * *

Dominic grabbed Claire’s head by the ears and drove for the back of her throat. Claire gagged, her head shaking back and forth. “Hmmmnh! Hrrgghh!” She couldn’t breathe! Finally Dominic withdrew and Claire took in a huge gasp of air.

“What do you want, Claire?”

“Arghh! I want your cock! Please, I need your cock!”

* * *

“Now use your tongue just under the head. Gently now. That’s right, gently. Ahhh! Very nice!”

* * *

Dominic plunged into her again. It wasn’t going to take long. He felt his come rising and moving and his cock expanded inside Claire’s throat. One final thrust and he was shooting into her mouth and down her gullet. “Oh, Fuck yes! Arghh!”

* * *

“Now take my come, Mandy. Seal me with your lips. Take it all! Ahhh! Arghhhh!”

Michael convulsed in the chair, his legs rising around Mandy’s obedient lips. One, two, three bursts of come filled her mouth. She looked up at him, her face gorgeous, her lips sealed softly around the neck of his cock.

* * *

Dominic was still thrusting into Claire’s throat, but more slowly now. He pulled out finally with a satisfied sigh. Claire closed her mouth, her tongue furiously sucking and swiping inside her cheeks to find all his come and make sure she had it all. Dominic watched, a smile growing on his face. Finally he squatted down in front of her, his hands once again finding her swollen breasts and lifting them to her chest.

“Do you think you have it all?” Dominic squeezed, and the shooting, stabbing pains were still there. Claire grimaced, and her tongue redoubled its efforts. Her eyes showed hope and expectancy, but also confusion. Dominic watched her and then finally spoke, his hands compressing her hard one last time: “The antidote is in your breasts already. It was mixed with the poison, in a form that is released slowly. You will begin to feel some relief in a few minutes.”

“You don’t really think I would inject my own testicle, do you?”

Claire’s face registered only shock and exhaustion, and complete defeat. Dominic withdrew his hands and gradually Claire’s knees buckled and she entered a squat, her wrists held between her knees. As her ass reached the floor her head fell and she began to weep uncontrollably. Dominic rose up and began to push the tray. He left her, a tiny sobbing ball on the floor.

* * *

Michael was looking down at Mandy and dealing with something he did not completely understand. He was still tingling from the effects of his orgasm, but more than that his whole body was filling with the warmth that comes only from genuine affection. In wonder he stared at the girl with his cock still in her mouth, this girl who could not be more lovely nor more obedient. He drank her in - he could not get enough of the simple beauty of that face.

Finally he laid his head back and said, softly: “Go ahead”. As his eyes closed he heard only the obedient sounds of Mandy squeezing his come down her throat.

Toilet Slave

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.”

Learning the Dance

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