LYNN’S TRAINING

Chapter One        

       Pacing the floor, glancing toward the clock on the wall, Lynn nervously holds the cell phone in her hand.  Feeling her heart pounding in her chest, again glancing at the phone, the clock, now approaching seven o’clock, she steps toward the closed window curtain, frustrated with the predicament she’s put herself into, it was just a handful of pot, Zenex’s.

       Hearing the sound of tires in the gravel driveway, she grips the dark colored curtain with her free hand, takes a deep breath.  Barely parting the right side, she notices headlights approaching the house.  Quickly letting the curtains close, heart thumping, she leans against the wall next to the window.

       Feeling the phone buzz in her hand, she glances down at its lit face, answers it on the second tone.  “Yes… Hello!”

       “Ready as agreed?”  The voice is firm, demanding.

       Staring at the phone, parting the curtain again, Lynn glances outside into the hazy darkness as the dark Limo’s stopped in front of the garage door in the slight fall drizzle.  “Ye… Yes… I’m… I’m ready!”  She answers, recognizing the undercover agent’s voice.

       “You sure?”  He asks.  “Followed your instructions?”

       ”Yes, bathed and shaved!  As you told me too!”  She answers bluntly.

       “Naked too?”  The strict voice over the phone asks.

       “Yeh,  yes naked, I’m naked too.”  She lies, glancing down toward the white terrycloth robe covering her still damp, nude body, flipping it open, glancing across her bare breasts, closing it.

       “Okay, no turning back once you get in the limo, it’ll be there any minute, do exactly as the driver instructs, or the deal’s off! Understand?”  The voice orders.

       “Okay, okay. It’s here now; I said I’ll do it!  It’s got to be better then jail!”  She blurts.

       “I hear you!  Remember, my warning, the next few days will be intense.  Get ready for it!  And remember, no turning back once you enter the limo!”  She hears the sarcastic comment followed by a “Click!”

       Setting the phone on the end table, heart pounding, she hesitantly steps toward the door, slowly parting her robe again.  Sliding a finger down between her bare breasts, across her navel, circling her pubic mound, she feels the smooth, freshly shaven flesh between her thighs.  Again, slowly closing, wrapping the robe around herself, she crosses her left arm above her breasts, grips the doorknob, stands motionless.

       A few seconds pass, a minute, she listens to the steady patter of the raindrops on the porch roof, finally the car door opening, closing, followed by footsteps, a tap on the door.  Taking a deep breath, hesitantly twisting the knob, swinging the door open, she faces who appears to be, a stern looking, stereotypical chauffeur in uniform.

       “Lynn… I presume.”  He states matter of fact.

       “Yes, yes I’m…”  She starts to acknowledge.

       “Alone?”  He nods, cutting her short.

       “Yes, I’m alo…”  She begins to nervously answer.

       “You do agree to the terms… Then?”  Cutting her off a second time, inquisitively eyeing her robe up and down, he observes she’s not naked as he’d expected.

       “Yes, yes.”  She answers, lowering her eyes, following his toward her robe.

       “Okay.”  He directs.  “Take this.”  Reaching out, he raises a tablet toward her mouth.

       “What?… Wha…”  She reflexively asks, feeling his fingers push against her lips, the pill sliding across her tongue.

       “Do as you’re told!  Take it, it’s for the trip!”  He orders as he cups her cheeks firmly, yet not to harshly between his fingers and thumb.  “Now, swallow.”

       “Gulp!”  Swallowing, she twists her head away as he lowers his hand, speaks.  “Go to the rear of the Limo… Now!”

       Pressing her breasts under her crossed forearms, she feels the bitter taste in her mouth from the dissolving tablet, seems as if she’s close to hyperventilating.  Not knowing what she just swallowed, nervously obeying, she steps briskly thru the light, but steady rain, toward the Limo, hearing him shutting the door behind her.

       Barefoot, she feels the cold, wet gravel beneath her feet as she approaches the expensive sedan.  Stopping, she stands motionless, faces the dark tinted window of the rear door, barely able to see the reflection of her breath in the wet glass.  She feels the slight, cold raindrops tap across her forehead, shoulders as she alternately lifts first one, then the other foot up out of the wet gravel, waiting.  The chauffeur, slowly walking, finally steps beside her, partially opens the door.

       “The robe, give it to me before you enter the Limo.  You’re ride naked!  You do know you were supposed to be nude?”  He adds in a monotone voice.

       “Nude? Ye…Yes okay, I know, I know.  I just took a shower and hadn’t dried off yet! This is all I have on!”  She mutters, glancing up toward him while slowly lowering her hands to the robe’s tie.

       “I understand, but I was informed I was to pick you up and deliver you naked.”  He responds, glancing down toward the robe, nodding his disapproval.  “Open it, take it off!”

       “Now?  Outside here?  In the rain?”  She asks, her voice raising a pitch, her face reddening as she partially spreads the top, exposing her substantial breasts to the elements. “Can’t I wait till I get in the…?”

       “No, now!  Give it to me now.”  He scolds, watching closely as she begins to slowly slip the robe across her arching shoulders, down to just above her elbows.

       “I’m certain you’re be punished for that transgression, but for now listen carefully.  When you enter the Limo, sit forward on the center of the seat, spread your legs, hands behind your neck, and during the trip, you’re not to touch yourself.”  He adds, deliberately taking his time, watching as the thick, cold rain drops, picking up in intensity, beginning to mix with occasional specks of sleet, dance erotically across her exposed breasts, her areolas, nipples, noticeably hardening.

       Initially acting disinterested, as if he’s hardly paying any attention to her exposing herself, he reaches out, firmly grips her bare shoulders, slides his hands downward, tugging the sides of the terrycloth robe down to her elbows, stops.

       She can’t help shivering, the rain, sleet pelting her nude flesh, crisscrossing, streaking across her bared breasts.  Briefly glancing up toward his face, she turns her reddening face toward her side, her arms held firm as she feels his grip tensioning.

       Mesmerized, he watches as the thickening sleet sticks to the upper, rounded curves of her firm, symmetrical globes, some flakes erotically melting, with wisps of steam rising up off her warmer, naked tit flesh.

       Feeling her twist, he slips the robe down off her elbows, causing her shoulders to arch back, breasts bouncing, swaying, her arms jerking, sliding out from the sleeves.  Releasing her arms, flipping the robe across his own arm, he catches a glimpse of melted sleet, mixing with the constant rain drops, dripping from the tips of her jiggling, bare nipples.

       Angered, freezing, feeling the cold drops pattering across her bare skin, tiptoeing barefoot in the slush, she glares up at him, crosses her forearms above her drenched breasts, to late to shield them from the cold, rain, his leering eyes.  “Can I get in now?!!”  She blurts.

       “You may get in now.”  He smirks, resting his free hand on the door, opening it wider.

       Leaning embarrassingly into the sedan, heart pounding, she’s having doubts, second thoughts.  Sliding across the Limo’s seat, she feels the cool, stiff leather sticking to her damp thighs, buttocks as she nervously twists around, sees him leaning down, staring, waiting.

       “Assume your position.”  He commands.

       Flushed, she slowly raises her hands over her head, interlocks her fingers behind her neck under her wet, tightly braided hair.  Staring forward, her naked flesh soaked, almost in a daze, she feels the moisture beading, streaking down across the front of her bare chest as the door closes.

       Walking around the Limo, the chauffer glances thru the rear glass, impressed with her incredible body, good looks.  He’s already enjoying his brief encounter with her, and it’s going to get even better.  Sliding behind the wheel, he tosses the damp robe onto the passenger seat, adjusts the rear view mirror to enjoy the full view of her nakedness.

       “I instructed you to spread your legs, and sit up on the seat!  Closer to the edge, and push those breasts out further!”  He orders, almost scoldingly as he glances thru the mirror, struck by the site of her hard, thick nipples, standing straight outward from her firm, wet breasts, covered with a multitude of tiny goose bumps as she hesitantly obeys, arches forward.

       Shivering, chilled from the rain, yet feeling the warmth spreading across her blushing face, she forces her shoulders back, slides forward, again her buttocks sticking to the stiff leather as she partially spreads her knees.

       “That’s better, now let’s take a good look at you.”  He states as he backs the limo down the driveway onto the street, flicks the interior lights on, drives away from the house.

       Glancing at his reflection in the rear view mirror, she can see his eyes raising, lowering, almost ludicrously at her wet, naked body.

       “Shaved from the neck down, huh!”  He asks as he turns the corner.  “Hear me?”  He adds, knowing she did, knowing he’s humiliating her as their eyes lock in the mirror.

       “Wha…  Yeh, yeh shaved. That was my instructions.”  She snaps with a scowl on her face.                        “Your pussy too?  Let’s see!  Spread it open, wider!”  He adds with a smirk, excited with her discomfort.

       More then embarrassed, she’s almost unable to speak, much less have a conversation as she also tries to hold her balance while setting spread eagled on the edge of the wet, slippery surface.  Spreading her knees wider apart, she feels the remnants of the rain, melted sleet, trailing across her cold, bare flesh onto the leather between her thighs, puddling around the puffy folds of her labia lips sticking to the seat.

       Remaining still, humiliated, she’s also disgusted, setting totally exposed, for him to ogle at.

       “Braided your hair too.”  He continues as if checking off a list.  “No makeup.  No undergarment marks on those titties. Speaking of titties, push ‘em out for me!”  He raises his voice, sternly orders while watching with amusement as she instantly thrusts her chest outwards, lowers her eyes. “Not too bad.  I think Mistress will be pleased.  Hold ‘em out there while I get a good look! Yeh, okay!  Those nipples make you look like you’re cold.  Let me warm you up some!”  He finishes, flips the interior lights off, the car heater on high.

       Setting in the darkness, in the middle of thrusting her breasts out as ordered, wet, cold, humiliated, she slowly shakes her head back and forth, reflexively glancing down toward her rock hard nipples as she feels the heat circulating back between the seats.  Raising her eyes, barely able to see out the front, the windshield, as the wipers slowly swipe back and forth in the smattering of rain, she again wonders how she put herself in this position.

       Feeling the seat warming beneath her bare, damp flesh, listening to the whirring sound of the car heater, the tires steady rhythm on the wet pavement, even her bare breasts gently swaying with the motion of the car, after a few minutes, she begins to relax, actually feeling groggy, light headed.  Eyes blinking, slowly closing, her fingers loosening behind her neck, she’s soon tilting, slightly tilting, toward her side.

       Glancing in the mirror, flipping the interior light momentarily back on, he smiles, continues to drive as she slumps across the leather seat, barely coherent.  The pill’s finally working, he thinks to himself.

       The better part of a couple of hours passes as they drive thru the countryside.  Finally, he slows, navigates the driveway past the estate’s large wrought iron gates as they’re swung open by security.  Driving toward the rear of the complex, he backs into the vast garage under the mansion, parks.

       Snapping an ammonia capsule beneath her nostrils, he leans back as she jerks, twists, sits up on the seat.  “Where… Wha…”  She mutters, groggy, leaning across the seat, on her elbows.

       “You’re here, come on.”  He instructs, pulling her by the arms, forcing, helping her stand upright, next to the limo.

       Another quick whiff, back and forth across her upper lip, she jerks, stands on her own just in time to notice a pair of German Shepard guard dogs being led past the closing garage door by what appears to be an armed security guard.  “Come with me.”  He instructs, gripping her right arm as he leads her thru an iron door from the garage into a stone wall hallway leading into the sinister bowels of the mansion.

       Still unsure of herself, staggering, she nearly stumbles more then once as he continues to grip tightly around her forearm, lead her thru a maze of hallways.  Breasts swaying, her braid of hair dangling across her shoulder, she feels his firm grip tighten as he finally stops, opens a dark, solid iron door with a small, bar framed window, pushes her into a smallish room.  A stone ledge shaped like a bunk protrudes along one side while some sort of stool rests in the center of the floor.

       “You’re home.  Stand on this.  Face that wall!  Remember, you’re still forbidden to touch yourself.  Hands at your sides, don’t move until Mistress receives you!”  He quickly runs thru a list of orders as he helps her step up onto the leather covered, wooden stool.  “If you don’t obey, you’re be punished!  Especially since you’ve already disobeyed by not being naked earlier.  And remember, you were warned, there’s no turning back now!  Try to leave, find your way out of here, you won’t get past the dogs, Guards! What’s left of you might even wind up the property of a Ukraine whore house!  Believe me, it’s happened before!”  He quips as he quickly gives her one more whiff of the capsule, steps back.        

       “Uuummphh!… God!”  Jerking her head, her breasts bounce; sway as she absorbs his threats.

       Grunting, she twists, faces the wall, now fully alert.  Stepping back, taking another quick glance at her naked, trembling body facing away from him, he adds.  “Remember my warning!  You really don’t have much of a choice!”  Turning, he leaves the room, smiling to himself.

       Facing forward, eyes straight ahead, focusing on the whitewashed wall, her nude, completely naked, body’s rigid.  Standing on the stool, waiting, she can hear, feels the pulse of her heartbeat as her breasts slowly raise, lower.  Minutes pass… Longer, slow minutes.

       She can’t help thinking of the chauffeur’s words of warning, threats, the more she thinks about it, probably not a bluff.  Eventually, it seems like it’s been an hour or more since she arrived at this place, still alone, motionless.

       “Hands behind your head!  Interlock the fingers!  Elbows back!  Push those tits out!  Now slave, now!”  The woman’s firm voice rings thru the room as she steps slowly around the stool.

Jerking, glancing down, Lynn immediately obeys, lifts her arms from her sides, gripping her hands behind the tightly woven auburn braid of hair behind her neck.  Her substantial breasts swaying, stomach hallowing under her defined ribcage, she feels her heart pounding with uncertainty.

       The woman’s voice is frightening, not just authoritative, but somehow foreboding, matching her appearance.  Black hair severely pulled back, pale skin, dark eyes, she’s dressed in the typical Dom type leather.

       Glancing toward Lynn’s breasts, the Dom’s impressed, very.  Quickly gazing up toward her eyes, without showing her feelings, she quips.  “Slut?  These real?”  The tone’s more sarcastic then inquisitive as she reaches out, cups the left breast in her palm, squeezes as Lynn flinches.  “Thwack!”  Sadistically smacking the right globe, she scolds.  “Well, answer!”

       “Ohh!  Ye… Yes.”  Lynn stutters, feeling the sting, glaring down toward the Dom. “Yeh! Yes!   Damn it!  They’re rea…”

       “Smack!”  The Dom interjects, sternly, smacking the swaying melon a second time.  “No cursing!  And, that’s Mistress to you, Slut!  Now, answer properly!

       “Smack!”  Another painful blow, the right breast bounces again, sways.

       “Ohhh!  Mis… Mistress, I said yes!  Ohhhhh!   Stop it!!!  That hurts! They’re real I said!”  Body twisting, still glaring, Lynn, almost in a state of shock, feels the lasting sting of the forehand, backhand across her thrust out breast as she glances quickly downward,  toward the pain of her other breast, being twisted, squeezed.

       “Silence!  Quit your whimpering!”  The Dom scolds. “New slaves!  I don’t know!  Too bad I’ve only got you for a week!  Your training should take at least a month!  We better get right to it!”

       “Smack!!!!… Thwack!!… Smack!!!  Applying three more, quick, back and forth slaps across the abused melon, the Dom steps back a step as Lynn, jerks, twists, grits her teeth, glares.

       Carefully eyeing the fresh, naked body in front of her, the Dom continues her evaluation.  “How big are they?”  She sarcastically asks while tightening her squeeze, looking up toward Lynn’s reddening face, straight into her welling, brown eyes, more to humiliate then anything.                                “Wha?  Lynn stutters.  “Size?  They… They’re 34’s…  34’s Mistress!!!

       “That’s what I wanted to know!”  The Dom scolds.  “Bras tight?”

       “Wha…”  Lynn blurts, uncertain.

       “Thwack!”   I said, are the bras tight on those tits?  The Dom scolds while slowly shaking her head back and forth, continuing to grip, twist Lynn’s other breast.

Then, as if talking to a child, she speaks slowly at first.  “Are… these… Tits… Too… Big… For… The D cup bras?”

       “Ahhh!  The bras are kinda tight… Mistress!”  Lynn, tiptoes, growling back.  “But they… They fit okay!”

       Dropping her hand from Lynn’s breast, sliding her fingers down around her midriff, the Dom seems to ignore the answer, enjoying humiliating her, seeing how far she can push her.

       “Hum, now let’s see, let’s take a look!  Tight ass, shaved pussy.  Huh!  Bares those nice big cuntlips!”  The Dom practically whispers, glances upward again from the side.

       “He said I’d have plenty to work with.  I guess he’s like other cops, likes big tits, and I guess yours are kinda big.  At least for being real.”  She continues, now sliding her open right hand down over Lynn’s backside, the rounded, smooth rump in front of her, just below eye level, taking in the slim waist, defined abs, long sleek legs.

       “Know what I like about real tits, Slave?”  The Dom mutters while standing behind the back of the stool.  “Answer me!  Thwack!”  Another quick slap, this time across Lynn’s swaying left breast.

       “Agghhhh! No… Mistress!… I don’t!”  Lynn answers, voice quivering, the anger, noticeable in her tone as she mimics the way the Dom just addressed her.  Clinching her fingers even tighter behind her neck, both breasts pulsing, she restrains herself, angered, but also fearful, the thought of the chauffeur’s warning flashing thru her mind, could he have been serious?

Glancing across her broad athletic shoulders, on down across her tapering back, the Dom smiles at the sight of the rounded curves of Lynn’s breasts poking out from either side.  Reaching up from behind, the Dom slides her left hand across the left breast, squeezes its base, solid, firm, yet somehow subtle, too.

       “Punishment, Slave!”  The Dom quirks.  “I can do lots more!  Yeh, a whole lot more with ’em!”  She adds, grinning, twisting, melding the mound of flesh between her fingers, thumb.  “Yeh, I don’t have to worry like I do when they’re fake!”  Squeezing, probing, she continues. “Yeh, Slave, I can do just about anything at all!  Use whips, clamps, needles.”  She smirks.  “Even a favorite of mine, ropes!  Can hang you by ’em!  You’ll really enjoy that I bet!  Right Slave?  Especially since there’s no way out for you!  I can do anything I want!”  She mocks, glances around Lynn’s obviously twitching body, up toward her tear welling eyes.

       “Ohhh… I… I…”  Angered, but now more fearful, stuttering, Lynn starts to speak, stops.  Her stomach quivers, her heart pounds, she feels her knees weakening.  What’s she gotten into?  Thinks to herself, she looks around the cell like room, unfortunately realizing there’s probably no way out.

       “That’s okay Slave.  I really didn’t expect an answer to that one!  At least not yet!”  The Dom gloats, clenching her fingers, thumb, the nails sinking firmly into the melded flesh of the bulging globe.

       “Okay!  Time to really get started!  Push ‘em out!”  The Dom enthusiastically mutters as she again releases Lynn’s breast, pats it a couple times, steps in front of her, picks up a jar of salve from the tray to the right of the stool.

       Dipping a glob onto her fingers, starting at the sternum, she spreads the goop across the sloping curves of Lynn’s breasts.  Using both hands, she twists, melds, stretches the firm flesh between her fingers, thumbs, stretches the areolas, tweaks the nipples, releases her fingers, watches the pair of globes bounce, sway, stand outward, the hardened nipples pointing practically upward from her tanned flesh.

Lynn bites her lower lip, stares straight ahead, feels the salve as it starts warming, then heating, finally burning and melting across her naked flesh.  Suppressing a moan, standing rigid, she struggles not to arch her arms forward, to grab her breasts, to wipe the burning cream from her bare flesh, especially the nipples.

       “Feel good?  Isn’t that soothing?”  The Dom smirks as she dabs another glob onto her fingers, rubs her hands together, and shoves between Lynn’s thighs, orders.  “Spread that pussy Slave!  Now!  And, shut up!!!  Quit whimpering!”

       “Ohh God!!!”  Lynn gruntingly answers.  “Ye… Yes Mistress! Ohhh, that burns!!”

       Hesitantly spreading her thighs, leaning forward, a tear drips off her cheek as her knees are parted by the Dom’s fist, the goop covering her inner thighs, squashing between her puffy labia lips, forced into her spread slit.   The burning flesh of her breasts instantly fade from her thoughts as the searing inflammation of her vagina wracks her body.  Pulsing, searing, her thighs, hips grind against the Dom’s hand as she struggles not to scream out loud.

       Feeling Lynn’s body trembling, jerking, the Dom slips her hand away, scoops one more handful, spreads it across both butt cheeks, rubbing, melding, from just above the hallows of the knees, up around, across her thighs, stopping at the dimples in the small of her back, then, steps back a step, smiles, wipes her fingers, hands, on a clean white hand towel.

       Watching the tanned naked flesh in front of her turning a light shade of red as it beads with perspiration, the Dom glances toward the tray, picks out a chrome clover clamp, adjusts its setting to firm.

       “Hush!  Hush Slave!  That salve’s going to protect your skin.  It won’t hurt you and it’s not going to burn you… At least not much!  The pain will fade quickly enough.  You’ll thank me later!”  The Dom quietly scolds, listening to, enjoying the muffled whimpers, moans.

       Reaching up, she squeezes the clamp open, shut, open again.  “Take this, Slave.”  She orders.  “Now!”

       Glancing down, seeing the gleaming clamp, Lynn hesitantly slides her fingers, hands apart, reaches down for the clamp with her right hand, grips it between her fingers, thumb.

       “Okay, spread that pussy with your other hand!”  The Dom orders.  “Wide!”

       “Huh?  No, no I won’t!!!”  Lynn resists, one last time, shaking her head, realizing what the Dom’s intentions are.

       “Last chance!”  The Dom orders.  “Either obey me completely or I’ll have you hogtied and clamp it on you myself! Then leave you locked in here until you decide to behave!”

       Glaring into Lynn’s eyes, the Dom almost whispers between her teeth.  “Listen carefully.  You can be here a week, and obey.  Or you can piss me off and, who knows, disappear forever!!!”

       Wide eyed, the rest of her will breaking, again thinking about the chauffeur’s threats, now hers, her heart pounds, they must be real.  Slowly lowering her free hand, sliding it carefully downward, her fingers glide across her hip, shaved pubic mound, her thumb forefinger twitching as they part her burning labia lips.

       “Now, push that pussy out!  Bare that clit.”  The Dom emphatically orders as she slides her own hands firmly down Lynn’s sides, resting her fingers across her hips.

       “Ohhhh!… Mistress!”  Lynn moans, her attitude starkly changing, fearing what’s next, her hands quivering.  Shaking her head slowly back and forth, thrusting her pubic mound slowly outward, she pleads. “Please, please Mistress!  Stop!  I don’t…!”

       “Listen Slave!”  The Dom breaks in.  “Your bad ass attitude didn’t help!  Now your whining doesn’t do you a bit of good either!  Do exactly as I order!  From now on!  I’m done playing!”  She demands.  “Now, pull that clit out and clamp that clamp onto it!  Deep!  Or I will!  And a lot harder!  Understand?!  Now, you or me?!!!”

       “Ye… Yes Mistress!  I will!  I… I’ll do it myself!!”  Lynn blurts out, tears streaking off her cheeks, her body quivering, voice breaking as she pinches her clit between her thumb, forefinger, giving up.

Taking a deep breath, bowing forward, her breasts wobble; hang down, while her arms cross in front of her.  Pinching, stretching her clit out from between the folds of her puffy labia lips with her finger, thumbnail, she tilts, turns her head away, groans.

       “Aaagghh!!”  Spreading, sliding the spread clamp deep into her slit, across her tugged, stretched nub, she releases the clamp, it closes.  “Aggghhhhhh!!” Another squeal as she bends further forward, feeling the sharp pain of the metal pressing, gripping into her tortured clit as she reflexively presses her thighs together.

       “Hands behind your head, now.”  The Dom excitedly orders, obviously delighted with the physical and psychological stress she’s forcing on her new slave.

       Suppressing a scream, still bending at the waist, jerking her hands back, quickly raising her arms, clenching her fingers behind her neck, she bites her lip.  Her eyes squinting, twisting her tilted head back and forth, her body arches forward, visibly trembling, breasts hanging, swaying in front of her chest.  The glistening clamp jiggles out from between her pressing, quivering thighs as she tiptoes from one foot to the other.

       “Don’t worry; you’ll get use to the feeling!”  The Dom smirks as she reaches onto the tray, picking up a black leather neck collar, a pair of black leather wrist cuffs.

       Stepping behind the stool she tugs Lynn’s braid of hair back, forcing her head to tilt backwards.  Sliding the collar around her neck, she fastens it, slides the wrist cuffs onto both wrists while fastening them.  Shoving her wrists closer to the collar, she fastens both cuffs, crisscrossing Lynn’s elbows up behind her head.

       Turning toward the tray, she picks up a leash, a slender, silver chain.  Sliding the leather strap on its one end around her own wrist, she snaps the clip on the opposite end to the clover clamp.

       “Come with me.”  The Dom commands, ready to step toward the door.  “Your night’s just beginning!  A group of my friends have stayed over from our weekly meeting.  A couple of them own brothels overseas where they love American women.  I’ve asked them to stay awhile longer, just to meet you!  See you punished!”

       “Wha?… What ???”   Lynn moans, face flushing.

       “That’s right!”  The Dom retorts.  “You better make me proud!  Or, your stay here could be a lot shorter then you could hope for!  You just might wind up taking a boat ride.  Like I said, understand?”

       Chain stretching, Lynn practically has to jump down, nearly stumbling with her wrists clamped up behind her neck.  Her clit tugged, breasts bouncing, swaying, she’s jerked, led into the hallway.

       Up a flight of stairs, thru another maze, into another hallway, stopping in front of a double oak door, the Dom stops, turns the knob, swings the right hand door inward.  Lynn’s eyes widen, then quickly lower, her face reddening.  A group of over a dozen or so well dressed people, of several nationalities; appear to be mingling together in a large, parlor type room.  Probably more men then women, they turn their heads, all eyes watching with interest as the Dom steps into the room, nods, tugs on the chain.

       “Come on Slave.”  The Dom quips, glancing at Lynn.

       “I think my friends here will be impressed seeing you up close!”

       Stepping between the gathering as they part, Lynn, frightened, humiliated, is led to the center of the room by the stretching chain, toward another small, raised podium, this one with a rope dangling down from above it.

       “Up!  Get up there!”  The Dom orders, almost in a scolding tone as Lynn can almost feel the group’s collective eyes on her naked flesh.

       Lifting her right leg up, she feels the Dom’s hand shoving on her butt cheeks, with a smidgeon of chuckles behind her as her breasts sway, bounce while she struggles, hands shackled up behind her head, to climb onto the stage.  Stepping onto the podium, keeping her eyes focused down toward her feet, she feels the chain between her legs painfully jerking, twisting her around to face the crowd.

       “Oomph!”  Mumbling, twisting, Lynn can feel the warmth spreading across her blushing face.

       Turning, facing the group, the Dom speaks.  “Here’s our new guest!  She’s already disobeyed an order!  And, lied about it when she was picked up by our chauffer earlier tonight.’’  She continues.  “She was supposed to be naked.  Even said she was, and wasn’t!   So I think her first punishment should be in front of an audience!”  She finishes, glancing up toward Lynn’s reddened face.

       “Be polite, introduce yourself.  Say hello to our guests, tell them you’re name, t hat you’re a slave now.”  The Dom commands in a stern voice as she stands beside the podium, still looking up into Lynn’s eyes, while unsnapping the chain from the clover clamp.  “Look at them!  Thank them for staying here to see you, your tits and Pussy!  Especially thank the women.”

       A tear welling in her eye, her naked body noticeably trembling, Lynn raises her head, looks slowly around the group, all intently staring at her, some whispering, nodding to each other, obviously commenting on her naked appearance.

       “Hel… Hello… Th… Thank you for being here. I’m… I’m Lynn... A Slave!”  She mutters, almost to humiliated to speak.”  Eyes lowering, mind racing to recall what she’s suppose to say, she blurts.  Thank you for, for waiting to see me, my titties.  And, and my pussy!”  She continues, glancing down toward the smirk on the Dom’s face.

       “Keep going!  Make eye contact as you speak!  Shake those titties for them!  Back and forth!”  The Dom smiles, enjoys humiliating her as much as physically punishing her.  “Don’t forget about the women.  Tell them those titties are real! And their size, too!”

       Taking a breath, holding back tears, Lynn stares around the room, into the crowd, blurts.  “Thank you.  You women too!  My… My titties are D’s… 34 D’s.  They’re real!”

       The crowd smiles, along with a few giggles, chuckles as Lynn, squinting, biting her lower lip, pushes out, stretching the rope binding her wrists behind her head, leans forward, twists at the hip, swings her chest back and forth, once, twice, a third time.  Her glistening breasts sway, bounce, slap together, the clover clamp slapping between her thighs, tugging, ripping at her throbbing clit.

       “That’s good enough, Slave.  You may stop.  Now arch your shoulders back, now!”  The Dom instructs.  “Spread your legs, push those titties way out, and your pussy too… For our friends!”

       Hesitating, Lynn lowers her tear filled eyes, slightly turns her head toward the side, and finally obeys, trying to block out the humiliation, disgust, pain.  Arching, spreading, elbows back, hips thrust forward, then standing rigid; she raises her eyes, glaring past the people, fixing on the double oak doors.

       She can’t help hearing the murmurs spreading thru the group.  Obviously comments about her naked, glistening body, posed spread eagled, her thrust out breasts, her thighs spread apart, the clover clamp gleaming, jiggling off her stretched clit.

       Stepping behind the small podium, the Dom lays down the chain, picks out a narrow, medium length, flexible bamboo cane, and swishes it back and forth thru the air.  “Swish… Swish… Swish!”

       The room instantly becomes deathly silent.  Laying it next to Lynn’s feet, she steps onto the platform, reaches up, grips the swaying rope, stretches it tautly downwards, attaches its clipped end to the back of Amy’s collar, between her wrists, forcing her to tiptoe.

       “Time for your punishment.” Whispering into Lynn’s ear, she bends over, picks up the crop, and slides it across the upper curves of the bare breasts thrusting out in front of her.

       The group remains silent, watching, anticipating as the cane glides back and forth, working, pressing into, lifting, the near perfect symmetrical globes, pokes the nipples, as Lynn’s glistening body noticeably twitches, twists, her eyes pleading, darting back and forth from the willowy shoot, to the Dom’s face.

       “This is what the salve was for, dear.”  The Dom, leaning toward Lynn’s ear, whispers as she raises the cane just below her chin.  “Half a dozen across those tits.  Or, a like number across that pussy? Your choice!  We should give our guests a good show!  Don’t you think?”

       “Ooohhh!”  Mistress, please!”  Lynn’s heart pounds as she momentarily forgets about the audience.  Whimpering, tears welling in both eyes, she feels the tip of the bamboo slide back and forth across her left nipple, press into her tit flesh. “Please!!!  I’m… I’m sorry for lying!”

Ignoring the pleas, the Dom steps down off the podium, glancing around, nods toward one of the more attractive couples in the crowd.  “May I borrow her?”  She asks, making direct eye contact with a man standing next to a blonde probably half his age, lowering her eyes.

       “Yes!  Yes of course.”  He answers with a nod.

       Motioning with her left hand, the Dom turns, steps toward the side of the podium, waits for the woman to approach.  The crowd watches, parts as she steps forward, herself strikingly attractive, her hair tightly woven into a bun, her short, shoulder less, one piece, white chiffon dress clinging to every curve of her athletic body.  Her skimpy lace bra and thong panties are visible under the nearly transparent material as she takes short steps in her black stiletto heels.

       Reaching the podium, the blonde steps in front of the Dom, nervous, shrugs a shoulder, asks.  “How may I be of service, Mistress?”  Staring directly back into her down turned blue eyes, the Dom hands her the bamboo, almost sarcastically answers.  “You know how to use this!”  More of a comment then a question, since the blonde’s also one of her recipients of periodic submissive training sessions.

       “Yes Mistress, I do!  I do!”  She answers almost relieved, actually enthusiastically as she grips the thin wooden cane in her right hand, stares toward it as the Dom turns, steps in front of the podium.

       Leaning forward, Lynn, panic stricken, stares down at the pair.  Her heart pounding, naked body shaking, bare breasts quivering, she continues to tiptoe, her wrists, elbows arched behind her straining neck.

       Again the crowd’s completely silent, waiting.  The Dom looks up.  “Which?  It’s your tits, pussy, or both!  Last chance! Tell the crowd!”

       Tears streaking down her cheeks, Lynn mutters.  “Ti… Tits… Oh God!  Tits Mistress!”  She whimpers, tears splashing on her quivering breasts as she glances pleadingly around the group of people.

       Without a word, the Mistress reaches up with her right hand, spreads her fingers, thumb apart, presses against Lynn’s sternum, shoving against the inside of her right breast, forcing it to swell, bulge toward her armpit.  The areola stretches, the bud of the nipple thickens as Lynn feels the Dom’s hand pressing against her breastbone.

       “The outside of the tit.”  The Dom calmly orders, glancing at the blonde, nodding back toward Lynn’s breast.  “From the tip of the nipple across the outer globe!  Let’s start with one good stroke!”

       Lynn’s eyes widen, again forgetting the crowd, glancing from the Dom, to the blond, toward the crop, back to the Dom, she whimpers, slowly shakes her head back and forth.

       Glancing back up at Lynn, the blonde gives an evil grin, flicks the bamboo back.  “Swish!… Thwack!!!”

       “Aaaggghhhh!!!”  Letting out a loud groan, Lynn’s body twists, her left foot leaves the floor as she feels the searing sting across her tender flesh.

       Gripping, squeezing the base of the flailed breast in her hand, the Dom jerks, almost instantly, forces Lynn to stand still.

       “Hush!  Let’s see.”  The Dom quietly speaks, leans around, and inspects the bright red welt already rising across the trembling, glistening tit flesh.  The embedded mark of the cane streaks from just outside Lynn’s hallowed armpit, visible across the rounded globe, trailing off against the outer side of the engorged nipple.

       “Okay, now one from… Let’s see… Across the nipple to a little lower.  Not into the armpit though!”  The Dom, glancing at the blonde, orders as she again grips, shoves the bare breast toward the side, feels the faint, rapid pulse of Lynn’s heartbeat as she presses even harder.

       “Yes, Mistress!!”  The blonde, obviously excited, answers as the bamboo flicks back.        

       “Ooohhh Nooo… Noooo!”  Lynn squirms, begs, as she tries to catch her breath.

       “Thwack!!!”

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!”  Another lash, another, even longer moan, groan, as again, Lynn’s body twists, jerks, shimmers with perspiration as her stomach hallows, her leg, thigh muscles tensing, her breast stinging, searing again.

       Staring thru her glazed eyes toward the Dom, Lynn        whimpers.  “Ohhh… God!  That hurts!  So… So Bad!”

       Again the Dom ignores the begging, again glances at the second reddening welt.  “Not bad, not at all.”  She compliments, glancing from the welt, to the blonde, back to the streak crossing from the areola to just below the first red stripe.

       “Ready for another?”  The Dom asks, still taking a close look at the pair of welts across the bulging tit flesh, then up into Lynn’s welling tears; back down into the blonde’s excited eyes.

       “Noo!!… Ohh Noo… Nooo!”  Lynn babbles, tears streaking off her cheeks, mixing with mucus trailing from her nostrils.

       “Ohh!  Of course Mistress!”  The blonde eagerly answers as she raises the bamboo, thinking to herself how excited she is at the chance to whip those big, perfect titties, to hurt that bitch that has everybody ogling her.

       Glancing around at the still virtually silent, but obviously approving crowd, the Dom again tightens her grip, points toward the tip of Lynn’s nipple, glances back toward the blonde.  “There, right across the bud.  The whole nipple, Areola, down to my fingertips.  Again!”

       “Yes Mistress.”  The blonde acknowledges, glancing toward Lynn’s reddened, swollen eyes.  “Swish!”

       Lynn’s eyes glare back, locks with the blonde’s.  Trying to hold her breath, her flattened stomach hollows under her defined ribcage.  “Thwack!”  “Oomph!… Aaaaagggghhh!!”

       The sound of the flexing bamboo cane slashing thru the air, Lynn’s grunt as she holds her breath, the cane flattening into the bare flesh, Lynn’s long, pitiful scream, all fill the room in rapid order.

       The Dom, releasing her grip just as the bamboo finds its mark, steps back a step toward the blonde as Lynn twists back and forth, nearly a complete circle.  Breasts swaying, Lynn grunts, moans as her tortured breast pounds with each rapid heartbeat, just a trace of a glistening, yellowish fluid dripping down her inner thigh.  The entire group watches, transfixed, almost in awe at the perfect, round globe being so savagely pummeled.

       “Oooohhhh… God… God… God!!!!”  Lynn, moans, tries to catch her breath, struggles to tiptoe, oblivious to the crowd, glancing wide eyed, down across her drenched breasts, swaying, twitching, the third, most painful welt tracing completely across her searing nipple, trailing off in front of her hollowed armpit.

       The Dom smiles, steps around the stool, grips Lynn’s left breast with her left hand, squeezes, feels the pounding, pulsing heartbeat.  “Let’s not forget this tit!  Same thing!”  She calmly addresses the blonde, glancing down toward her nearly transparent dress, noticing that the blonde’s tan nipples are hard, swollen, poking against the bra under the chiffon material. “Step over here.”

       “Yes Mistress!”  The blonde answers, quickly positioning her self in front of Lynn, asks.  “You mean… Three!  Three more Mistress?”

       Glancing up toward Lynn’s swollen eyes, the Dom slowly nods.  “Yes, three more, just like the other tit!  Right Slave?”

       “Ahhh Mistress… Ohhh… Please!  No more!”  Lynn begs, whines, feeling the incredible pain pulsing thru her globe with each rasping breath.  The Dom ignores her, again glancing toward the blonde.

       “I’m tired of her whining!  Aren’t you?”  The Dom sarcastically asks, loud enough for everyone to hear.

       “Yes… Yes Mistress!  She does whine too much!”  The blonde answers while flicking the crop back and forth in her hand.

       “Good!  I’m glad you agree; now take off your bra.  Stuff it in her mouth!”  The Dom smirks, reaches out, and takes the crop in her hand.

       “What… My bra? In her mouth?” Surprised, the blonde answers.

       “Yes! Take it off, stuff it in her mouth!  Then tie your panties around her neck to hold it in.  Understand?  Unless of course, you want to take her place!  Now!”  The Dom scolds as she again glances up toward Lynn.

       “Ye… Yes… I mean no! Mistress!”  The blond stutters as she glances toward the crowd, her Master standing with the other couples, barely hiding a smile.

       Crisscrossing her arms in front of her, reaching down inside the top of the shoulder less dress, the blond grips the bra, slips it up over her thrust out breasts.  Gripping stretching the material, she slips it up over her neck, face.  Holding it in her left hand, she adjusts the top of the dress across her swaying breasts, bends, reaches down under the hem of her dress.  Sliding her thong down across her bare thighs, she bends, shoves the thong down to her ankles.

       Breasts swaying, the tops of her nipples exposed above the low cut dress, she leans over.  Stepping out of the thong, first with her left stiletto, then the right, her freshly shaven vagina, slim hips become visible as the thong catches in the right heel causing her to stumble, nearly losing her balance.

       “In her mouth! Open wide Lynn!!”  The Dom, grinning, instructs, points, as the blonde regains her balance.

       “Yes Mistress.”  The blonde answers, standing upright, lifting, adjusting the top of her dress with one hand, wading the bra, pressing it up toward Lynn’s face with the other.

       “Wide Slave, wider!”  The Dom demands while reaching for, helping stuff the cloth between Lynn’s lips.

       “Mmmuuphhh!”  Grunting, muttering, Lynn feels the perfumed cloth forcing her lips, jaw open, filling, stuffing her mouth.  Stepping around, the blond twists, ties the panties around Lynn’s mouth, neck, her own breasts bouncing, swaying, barely covered, as her arms lift up behind Lynn’s back.

       “Okay.”  The Dom acknowledges as she steps toward the front of the podium, again gripping Lynn’s left breast, reaching out with the bamboo toward the blonde.  “Across the nipple!  Same way!”

       Reaching out, grabbing the bamboo, the blonde focuses on Lynn’s breast, watches as the Dom stretches that tit flesh as she did the other.

       “Swish… Thwack!”

       “Uummphh!”

       The swish of the flexing crop, the muffled cry from Lynn as it flicks off her heaving melon.

       “Good!  Good!”  The Dom smirks, catching a glance of the blonde’s barely covered breasts swaying thru the skimpy cloth, while Lynn jerks, twists, a single stripe streaking across her bulging globe.

       “Another!  Match the other side.”  The Dom orders while pressing the breast outward.

       “Thwack!”

       “Uuummmpphhh!!!… Ummmppphhh!!!  The smack of the bamboo, more gutteral screeches from the rag stuffed in Lynn’s throat as her body jerks, twists on the podium.

       Lynn’s heart pounds, the burning deep inside both breasts mounting with each lashing.  Barely able to breathe, she feels she’s on the verge of hyperventilating, mucus clogging, dripping from her nostrils mixing with the saliva drooling from the corners of her stretched lips.

       “One more!  Center it across the nipple, straight across.”  Again twisting and pushing, the Dom forces Lynn’s nipple to bulge while she reaches for her thigh with her other hand.

       The blonde, her mind racing, excited, her own nearly naked body glistening, crosses her left arm across her breasts, swings the flexing weapon.  “Swish!”

       Twisting her head, squinting her eyes, Lynn bites into the bundle of cloth in her mouth, anticipating.        

       “Thwack!!!”

       “Gaaaaaaaaaddddddd!!!… Uuuummmppphhhh!!!”  Grunts, another schreech as The Dom releases her grip, watches as Lynn again jerks, twists on the podium, tears streaking off her cheeks, a splatter of urine spurting onto the makeshift podium from between her quivering thighs.

       Reaching for the bamboo, the Dom takes it from the blonde’s hand.  “Okay!  Good job!  Now, you may return to your Master.”

       “Yes… Yes Mistress.”  She answers, glancing up toward Lynn’s tortured breasts, glares further upward toward her face, smiles sarcastically as she again glances downward, between the quivering, wet thighs, the puddle on the floor.  Turning, she carefully circles around the podium, the Dom inspects Lynn’s breasts.  Swaying, heaving, beaten, but still symmetrical, a trio of red, crisp welts standing out across both, horizontal from her nipples, trailing to just in front of her hollowed armpits.  Stepping directly behind the podium, she lets the tip of the bamboo shoot glide across Lynn’s rounded rumps, tapping, flicking one, the other.

       “Turn around, let ’em see your ass.” The Dom orders as she slides the crop slowly up and down Lynn’s twitching left thigh.

Obeying, twisting, Lynn keeps her swollen eyes shut, the pain nearly unbearable as her breasts pound with each heartbeat.  Hardly able to breath, wheezing, she feels the cloth gagging her throat, her nostrils clogging.

       Laying the bamboo down, the Dom picks up the chain, clips it to the wet clover clamp.  Stepping up onto the podium, she unfastens the rope from Lynn’s collar, unties the panties, pulls the bra from her mouth, wads them into a ball in her fist, swipes them back and forth a couple times, across the clit clamp, back between Lynn’s thighs.

       “I think this is enough, for this evening anyway!  You did well for a start!  Especially that attitude!  I hope you learned a valuable lesson about ever lying again!”  The Dom whispers to Lynn, adding.  “Now come with me, you can get cleaned up.”  Helping her to step down.

       “Next week.”  The Dom again turning away from Lynn addresses the group.  “You’re all invited back to observe her progress!”

       Leading her into the crowd, toward the door with the stretching leash, the group slowly parts.  The Dom, without stopping, hands the bra and panties to the surprised blonde, smiles, nods, continues on.        

       Again, the crowd watches closely, speaking in subtle tones as Lynn, hands still fastened behind her neck, is led past, eyes down, practically stumbling, her welted breasts gently swaying, her naked body drenched in perspiration, her clit being stretched by the leash as she realizes this is only day one.

End Part One                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

LYNN’S TRAINING

Chapter Two

       Looking at herself in the wall length mirror, in her Dom’s private master suite, Lynn can’t believe she’s actually in a full blown, Dom’s outfit herself, actually an outrageously sexy Dom’s outfit, all black patent leather with six inch stilettos.

       Turning, glancing, bending, she’s pleasantly surprised at how incredible the outfit makes her look.  Tiny waist, breasts forced upward, barely covered, actually the upper edges of her tan areolas visible, the bottom of her butt cheeks also just as exposed.  Hair tied tightly, strictly back, makeup perfect, she can feel the dampness between her thighs as she licks her bright red lips.

       “Ready Lynn?” The Dom asks, swinging the door open.  “My, do you look the part!”  She adds motioning for Lynn to turn a circle.

       “Yes… Yes Mistress!”  Lyn answers, uncertain if she should smile, or what, as she slowly turns.

       “How longs it been, a couple months?  The Dom asks, reaching out, cupping, aligning Lynn’s breasts, adjusting the corset, tugging, straightening.  “There, perfect!”

       Staring into Lynn’s big brown eyes, she slowly shakes her head, adds.  “Lynn, I must say, you look stunning!  I could strip you naked and work every inch of that magnificent body right now! Damn!  I have to admit, how I’ve missed it!”

       Blushing, lowering her eyes, Lynn can feel the tingling deep inside, just thinking of the possibilities, of the week she’d spent here, the training.  “Thank, thank you Mistress!”

       “Anyway!”  The Dom, turning, sighs.  “Come with me, I have a real surprise in store for you!”

       “Yes Mistress.”  Lynn answers, reflexively waits a couple steps, follows obediently.

       The Dom leads Lynn thru the maze of hallways, stops in front of a metal door with an open, iron bar window.  Lynn, with a tinge of nervousness, easily recognizes it from a couple months earlier.  Her first few nights of her indoctrination had been spent in the room on the other side.

       Pointing between the bars, holding her index finger in a “Hush” sign, up to her lips, the Dom steps aside, lets Lynn peer through.  Glancing in, quickly back toward the Dom, just as quickly back toward the window, Lynn realizes the room has another, distraught occupant.

       From the side, Lynn can see she’s naked, ball gagged, struggling in a serpentine position to tiptoe on the same familiar stool.  Head hanging back, practically suspended by her breasts from a pair of white ropes stretching, creaking downward from the ceiling, she sways on the balls of her feet, slowly twists, her face becoming visible from the door.  Lynn needs a second look to realize she resembles the blonde who so aggressively whipped her in front of the Dom’s guests, her very first night here.

       Noticing Lynn’s reaction, the Dom whispers.  “I thought you’d be pleasantly surprised, you remember meeting Amy before, don’t you??!   She looks a little different now though, doesn’t she?!!  I’ve always considered her my best looking sub, of course that was before you came along!”  Letting her hand rest on the doorknob, giving a nod, a twist, she whispers.  “Her Master is on a business trip overseas, wants me to “Baby-sit” while he’s gone!  Come with me.”

       Entering the room behind the Dom, stepping toward the stool, Lynn can feel her heart pulsing just a little quicker as she soaks in the site of the blonde’s dilemma.  So, it is her!  She also can’t help noticing an added furnishing to the room, a small vat filled with brine along the wall, containing an assortment of soaking canes.

       Turning back toward the stool, Lynn gets a closer look at the tiptoeing, despondent victim, the intricate bindings.  Fascinated, starting from head to toe, she concentrates on her hair tightly wrapped in a bun… Bright red “O” ring stretching her mouth… Her shoulders bent back… Torso thrust out… Ballooning breasts stretched toward the ceiling with the rope… Hollowed stomach flexing… Thigh, calve muscles rippling, of course, tiptoeing.

       Heavily perspiring, glistening with body oil, she appears to have been struggling for some time now.

       “Well, how do you like my handiwork?”  Engrossed, Lynn jerks, startled, by the Dom’s quip.

       Reaching out, grabbing one of the bound, bulging, discolored breasts, eye level in front of her face, the Dom adds.  “Go ahead; want to grab that other one?  Feel how hard it is?  I don’t think she’ll mind!”  Approvingly nodding toward the blonde’s other breast.

       “Ye… Yes Mistress.  I think I do.  Yes, I do!”  Lynn answers, eagerly stepping around the other side of the stool.

       “Amy, look at Lynn, tell her she has your permission to do whatever she wants with that tittie!!”  The Dom scoffs as she leans around, glances into the blonde’s swollen eyes.  “Hear me?”

       “Yes, yes Mistress.”  The blonde, whimpering, twisting, struggling, garbles back the best she can thru the “O” ring stretching her lips apart.

       Glancing pleadingly toward Lynn, barely understandable, she mumbles.  “Please, please do whatever you want with my tittie! Whatever!”

       “Really!  Did you say whatever?  Huh!”  Lynn practically growls, feeling a rush, listening to the mumbling, whining, as she steps closer.

       Sliding her left hand across, around the blonde’s other purplish, solid round globe she’s surprised how cool, damp, slippery it is to the touch, so tightly bound in the matching rope.  Glancing up into the swollen, tear filled eyes of her nemeses, letting her thumbnail, fingernail scrap across the virtually flat nipple, she recalls her own breasts, being flailed by her that first night.

       The Dom notices, smiles.  “I see you undoubtedly remember the workout she gave your titties!!  It’s time for payback!”  She states matter of factly.  “Look closer, see how flat the buds of her nipples are against those stretched areolas?”

       Nodding from one to the other, she exclaims.  “Go ahead; tweak that one for me dear.  Make it stand up!”

       “Yes Mistress, Lynn answers, the slightest smirk showing on her face, sadistically glancing toward the narrow slits of the blonde’s swollen eyes, her hazed, blue pupils staring back, barely visible thru her welling tears above the contrasting, glistening red “O” ring stretching her lips into a perfect circle.

       Resting the palm of her right hand on the blonde’s perspiring rump, Lynn can feel the quiver of the glistening hips as she forms her own circle with the index finger and thumb of her left hand, presses inward, feeling the thick nipple flesh scrunch between the tips of her fingers and nails.

       “Ooohhhhh!!!”  The first real whimpers spew from the “O” ring, along with a fair amount of drooling saliva.

       “Lynn, you can do better then that.”  The Dom instructs.  “Give it a good twist, like this, as you’re pinching it!  Watch!”

Lynn watches, almost transfixed as the Dom’s nails dig deeper into the blonde’s other nipple, pinching twisting, while stretching unmercifully.

       “Uuuuummmppphhhh!!!”  A guttural screech fills the small room as the blonde twists, jerks, back and forth.

       Her toes barely able to keep contact with the surface of the wobbling stool, her head flings backwards and her anguished face lower then her torturously bound breasts.  Another sadistic pinch, her severely arched shoulders jerk, twisting above her bound elbows, wrists.  Lynn’s hand stiffening, pressed tightly, slips up behind the small of the blonde’s jerking back, forcing her to stand steady.

       “Go ahead!”  The Dom nods, twisting, pinching yet again as she scraps the nipple flesh.

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!”  Another long squeal jolts Lynn into following the Dom’s lead.

       Pinching, twisting her hand, Lynn can almost feel the tips of her fingernails meeting, touching, indented in the base of her targeted nipple as she glares into the blonde’s darting, pleading eyes, tears dripping, saliva again spewing from the bright red “O” ring, both mixing with traces of mucus from her flailing nostrils, drooling off her chin.

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!… Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!” Hoarse, hysterical screams echo off the stone walls as she spasms, contorts, both nipples being pinched, feeling torn.

       Lynn swings her foot, not unintentionally, brushes across a leg of the wobbling stool, tilting it.  The blonde’s bare feet lose contact, toes curling, probing as Lynn gives her backside a quick shove.

       Body swaying, jerking in mid air, the blonde’s own fingernails dig frantically into the palms of her clenched fists below her bound wrists.

       “Aaaaagggggghhhh!!!”  Other pitiful screams, actually harsh rasps, as both Lynn and the Dom quickly step back, their fingers releasing the tortured nipples simultaneously.  “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!”

       The ropes creak, twist from the full weight of her sweat drenched body hanging from her quivering, bulging breasts.  If possible, they appear to swell even more, showing dark blue veins, raising up, standing out, crisscrossing just beneath the taut surfaces of her nearly transparent flesh, appearing in danger of bursting.  Her naked body spasms, twists, streaks of urine trickling down off her inner thighs, while Lynn, engrossed by the sight, offering no help, watches her frantically find the stool with the tips of her clawing toes.

       Acting as if she’s barely paying attention to the blonde’s predicament, the Dom steps back another step, glances down at her own crimson tinged finger, thumbnail, caused by the scraped nipple.

       “A little drop of blood or two is just fine!  She smirks, tasting it with her tongue. “I’ll let you apply some of that salve you like so much on her before we’re done with her tonight!  Okay Lynn?!”

       Lynn just smiles, nods toward the Dom, enjoying the rush, the excitement, the incredible feeling deep down in her groin.  Glancing back down, feeling the urge to kick the stool again, she takes a step toward it.

       “I don’t think so.”  The Dom, playfully eyeing Lynn’s foot, scolds, while glancing at the blonde still struggling to grip the stool.  “Once is enough, for that!  Don’t you think?!”

       “Yes Mistress.”  Lynn answers, lowering her eyes, holding back a smirk, realizing the Dom probably saw everything.

       “Although!”  The Dom adds.  “Maybe you could use that same kind of crop on her that she used on you.  Yes, I think that could be appropriate at this time.  Don’t you, Lynn?”  Glancing back and forth from Lynn to the blonde, she steps toward the vat.

       “Yeh… Yes Mistress.  That would be!  Let’s see how she likes her tits whipped!”  Lynn, excitement in her voice, answers with a nod as the blonde closes her eyes, trembling, exhausted, momentarily lowering her head forward, between the ropes stretching at her discolored breasts.

       Wiping her fingers along the outside hip of her leather pants, the Dom stops beside the vat, again glancing toward the blonde, watching her struggling to balance herself, twisting, whimpering, raising her head back up, trying to plead, realizing what’s next.

       “I don’t think those titties are up to a good flogging though, Lynn.”  The Dom exclaims, shaking her head slowly back and forth, stepping toward the blonde with a crop in hand. “As swollen as they are… You see, there could be permanent damage!”

       “Yes Mistress!”  Lynn, eyes downcast, frustrated, has to agree, but quickly suggests.  “But, but how about her ass then!”

Smiling, the Dom retorts as she taps the blond between her thighs, watching her twitch while listening to her soft moans.  “I was thinking more of her pussy!  Lynn, what do you think?  Maybe a half dozen!”

       Grinning, smiling, Lynn’s disposition rapidly takes a turn for the better, her own vagina tingling, burning, just from the thought, especially as the Dom hands the dripping crop toward her.

       “Follow my instructions, Lynn.”  The Dom, in a serious tone hands Lynn the crop.  “You’re wearing the outfit; this will be your first Dom experience!  Actually assisting a Dom’s, experience!  I expect you to learn from it!”

       Eyes wide, heart pumping, Lynn can’t believe what’s happening, barely hears the Dom’s words.  “Ohh!  Oh, yes Mistress!  Thank you!  Yes! Yes!!!’’  Swishing the willowy, moist crop back and forth in her right hand, brine haphazardly flicking across all three of them, she steps directly in front of the stool, rears back, eye level with the ballooning, unprotected breasts, then quickly stares down between the blonde’s twisting thighs.

       Holding her breath, dipping her head, the blonde closes her eyes, grunts.  “Oooooohhh!!!!!”

       “No!  Nooo!!  Not here Lynn… Not so fast!”  The Dom practically yells as she steps beside the stool, raises her hand in front of the crop.  “Not here! Not now, settle down!”

       Unfastening the ends of the ropes from the blonde’s breasts, she lowers her arms, looking down toward the creaking stool.  “Okay, step down Slave.  Follow me!”

Gripping the remaining tied, twisted ropes between the bulging breasts, the Dom nods toward Lynn, helping the struggling blonde off the stool, steps toward the door.

       “We’re going to be having guests upstairs tonight, Lynn. You’ve met some of them at a couple other sessions already! This time though, you’re be on the other end!  Whipping her!”

End Part Two

                           

LYNN’S TRAINING

Chapter Three

       Lynn finds herself trailing the Dom thru the familiar maze of hallways, the whimpering blonde led between them.  Approaching the entrance to the main parlor, even thru the thick oak, double doors, she can hear the anticipating audience.

       Turning to face Lynn, the Mistress grips the taut ropes embedded in the blonde’s breasts, like a leash, twisting, forcing her to stop beside the doors.

       “Lynn, I’ll meet you across the hall in a few minutes.”  Pointing toward a similar, though single doorway, she adds.  “Wait in there for me; I’m going to prepare our slave for her session!”

       Glancing across the hallway, the crop twitching in her lowered hand, Lynn’s eyebrows raise as she nods, steps toward the single oak door.  Reaching for the knob, with an appreciative smile, she simply mutters.  “Yes Mistress.”

       Entering the room, she hears the other door opening, closing behind her, along with the scattered murmurs of the anticipating audience, getting their first view of the evening’s presentation.

       Absorbing, soaking in this unexpected experience as she slowly closes the door behind her, she realizes it’s actually a suite, usually, exclusively the Mistress’ domain.

       Glancing around at the obviously tasteful, expensive furnishings, she’s taken by the room off to the side.  It’s wide entrance completely open, with an extravagant monitor system mounted on its far wall, it’s only other furnishings are several oversize recliners.  Kind of out of place for the atmosphere of the rest of the suite, Lynn thinks to herself as she walks around, glancing at pictures, furnishings, things the Dom obviously likes to collect.

       Walking into the room with the video equipment, she momentarily sits in one of the recliners, leans back, feels how comfortable it is, stands back up, her thoughts skipping to the disks lining the shelf below the screen.  Walking over, noticing they’re categorized alphabetically, she notices several toward the middle are labeled with her name, dates, and numbered sessions.  Obviously, her training’s been documented for prosperity, she smirks sarcastically.

       Reflexively recalling the sessions, wondering about her part in tonight’s proceedings, the selected group watching, she feels her heart again thumping with anticipation.  Unable to stand still, the time slowly ticking by, she continues to pace.  Waiting, thinking, half excited, nervous, she’s anticipating what’s in store for the evening.  Glancing around, she’s taken by the view of her own reflection in a full length mirror in the far corner.

       Again she feels the flutter, the stirring inside her.  Stepping slowly toward it, the crop reflexively flipping against the palm of her hand, she watches her breasts rising, lowering, stuffing the patent leather brassiere, matching stiletto boots, thigh high, beginning  just below the garter belt.

       Continuing to be struck by her own reflection, twisting her waist, her eyes lower downward toward the sides of her hips, the light reflecting off the barely visible folds of her puffy labia, engulfing the thong panty, more like a G-string, disappearing between the bottom of her visible butt cheeks, into the spread slit topping her legs.  Slowly tracing the tip of her tongue around her still bright red lips, arching her shoulders back, letting her braided strand of brown hair flick across her shoulder, she can’t hold back her smile.

       Hearing the door opening, she jerks, turns.

       “Well, she’s been prepared, Lynn.”  The Dom states while shutting the door behind her, momentarily staring.  Turning her back, stepping toward the garden window on the outside wall, pulling the drape aside, nodding, smiling, she adds with a sarcastic tone.  “Like the view?”

       “Eh… I… I didn’t look out the window, yet.”  Lynn answers, taking a step toward the Dom, turning from the mirror.

       “I know, I wasn’t talking about the window!”  The Dom retorts, with a slight smile, glancing up and down at Lynn’s body, stuffed in that outfit.

       “Ohh!  Yes Mam!”  Lynn, lowering her eyes, feeling the warmth spreading across her face, sheepishly answers.

       “Good!”  The Dom retorts, stepping toward the monitor room.  “I’m sure everyone else will too!  Now, come with me, over here.

       Following, watching the Dom set on the edge of a recliner, Lynn stops, stands beside her.

       “Sit!”  The Dom nods, patting the seat next to her.  “Here!”

       “Yes Mistress.”  Lynn answers, lowering her eyes, sitting, also on the edge of the recliner, turning, facing her.

       “When you came here a couple months ago.”  The Dom begins.  “You spent a full week.”

       Nodding her head in agreement, looking up, Lynn mutters. “Ye… Yes?”

       “Your training was intense; sometimes I’m sure you thought severe!  Correct?”  The Dom still nodding in the affirmative, staring into Lynn’s eyes, adds.

       “Yes Mistress, yes!”  Lynn, again glancing down, answers.

       “When I received the call from your Master, I was at first surprised.  Then somewhat intrigued he would want you to get the taste of being a Dominatrix.”  The Dom continues while placing her right hand on Lynn’s left knee.  “Any thoughts on why?  He still wants you as a submissive too?”  The Dom asks, again staring directly into those big brown eyes.

       “Yes, ohh yes Mistress!” Lynn answers.  “I mean I’m still his submissive…”

       The Dom breaks in.  “ And, and he’s going to?  To bring your sister to, to stay with you?!”

       “Yes Mistress!”  Lynn nods, again lowering her eyes.

       Leaning back, smiling, the Dom starts to ask.  “To be….”

       “Yes Mistress.  She’s also going to be a submissive!”  Lynn adds.

       “And you?”  The Dom pries.

       “He’s going to want to have her trained too, and I guess have me do things to her!”  Lynn blurts.  “I mean, with him, I think that’s what he wants!”

       “Okay, I just wanted to make sure.”  The Dom grins.  “That’s also pretty much what I think!”

       A moment of silence, the Dom again pats Jodi’s knee.  “Well, then we need to get to work, don’t we?”

       “Yes Mistress.  Yes!”  Lynn eagerly nods.

       “Okay, listen carefully.  Like I said, you thought I was severe with you initially, but let me ask you something.

       “Okay?”  Lynn answers.

       “All your punishment you endured, did you receive any real, permanent damage of any kind?”  The Dom asks, continuing.  “I mean anything that scarred, disfigured you in any way, anything that took more then a couple days or so to really heal?

       “No, no Mistress.”  Lynn answers.  “Everything got better in a day or two.”

       Leaning toward Lynn, once again glancing into her eyes, she adds.  “That’s right!  That’s what this talk is all about!  Now listen to me, when we go across the hall, you’re going to be using that crop on Amy!

       “Yes Mistress!” Lynn retorts.  “Yes!”

       “I know your feelings for her.  I don’t want any harsh damage!  Understand?!”

       “Ohh, yes Mistress, I do!  I understand.”  Lynn nods.  I… I promise!”

       Standing, turning, the Dom smirks.  “Ohh, by the way, you’re be with me for the entire weekend.  Tonight’s your turn to use the whip.’”

       “Yes, yes Mistress?”  Lynn nods, questions.

       “Well, just to let you know, your Master left me a list of some of your discretions since we last saw each other. Tomorrow, and maybe the next day, you’re be receiving a refresher course from me.  One of the sessions will be most unusual, understand?”

       Face flushing, eyes lowering, Lynn softly mutters.  “Yes Mistress, Master kinda let me know on the way here this evening that I was to be punished!”

       “Oh, really!  Well good then, but I bet you haven’t the foggiest idea what he wants done!  But then, I notice you saw the discs on the shelf there.  I bet you saw yours too, didn’t you?”

       “Yes, yes Mistress.” Lynn answers, glancing toward the shelf.

       “Well, I have every session I‘ve had with you, and there’s going to be more, starting tomorrow!”  The Dom smiles while stepping toward the door.  “Anyway, let’s go meet your audience, most of the important members are in attendance tonight.  Now, let’s go and give Amy her due!”

       Following the Dom across the hall, heart thumping in her chest, Lynn enters the familiar parlor, notices the eyes, turning, focusing on her, away from the podium in the center of the room where the blonde’s being exhibited.

       Spreading, stepping aside, the substantial audience becomes mixed with quite murmurs, admiring Lynn’s incredible erotic look, more naked then not, anticipating the exhibition at hand as the Dom leads her into the heart of the room.  Stopping in front of the podium, the Dom nods while turning toward Lynn.  “Well, what do you think?  Go ahead… Check her out… Inspect her!”

       “Yes Mistress!”  Lynn answers, a smugness in her voice, trying to disregard the Dom’s talk about tomorrow, sure she can handle whatever it is.  Now excited by the favorable stares, comments muttered throughout the group, she takes a closer look up toward the blonde, at the same time, letting the audience get a better view of herself.

       Slowly circling, beside, behind the podium, the whip reflexively flipping across the palm of her open hand, she immediately realizes the blonde’s bondage has been rearranged as she’s exhibited above her, tiptoeing precariously on the podium, trembling, her arms crisscrossed behind her head, her wrists tied together, up behind her neck, connected to a rope stretching down from the ceiling.

Stepping on around, slowly, pacing her self, Lynn glances up toward the reddened, swollen face, the tear filled eyes staring straight ahead, toward the doors.

       Glancing toward her chest, Lynn notices the purplish welts circling the bare breasts, thrust out, discolored, bruised, the ropes removed.  The rest of her body’s twitching, glistening, completely naked, and ready for her turn with the whip.

       “Well Lynn.”  The Dom breaks the silence.  “I think our guests are ready, would you like to ask our slave if she is?”

       Turning her head, facing the Dom, Lynn smirks, nods.  “Yes Mistress, okay!”

       Turning her head back, looking up toward the blonde’s eyes, Lynn, raising her voice, trying to sound authoritative, blurts.  “Ready, ready to be whipped, slave!”

       “Ohhh!  Yes, yes Mistress, if you wish!”  The blonde’s voice quivering, obediently answers back in the positive, knowing she has too, tears welling, voice lowering.

       Lynn hears the words, excited, heart pounding, feeling a rush, glances toward the Dom.

       “Okay!”  The Dom directs, glancing back and forth between her pair of submissives.  “Start with a half dozen across her ass, then a couple each across her nipples, and lets see, round out the even dozen with a couple wherever you want between her legs!”

       “Oh yes Mistress!”  Lynn enthusiastically answers, stepping toward the podium, glaring toward the blonde’s pleading eyes, remembering her eagerness when the role was reversed a few weeks ago.

The audience forms a semicircle in anticipation as the Dom steps a couple steps toward the rear of the podium, nodding.  “Turn her ass, Lynn.  Let everyone have a view.”

       “Yes Mistress.  Turn around slave, push that ass out!”  Lynn commands, for the first time hearing her own voice, authoritative voice, making a command.  Liking the sound, she adds.  “Show everyone that ass getting whipped, slave!”

       “Yes, yes Mistress!”  The blonde nervously answers, twisting, turning, pushing her trembling butt cheeks out, and closing her eyes.

       Again hearing “Mistress” muttered, Lynn can’t hold back a sadistic grin, enjoying every moment, the crop slowly rising in her right hand.

       “Swish… Thwack!… Swish… Thwack!… Swish… Thwack!… Swish… Thwack!!!”  Leaning toward the podium, lashing out, breasts bulging from the tightening brassiere, Lynn flicks the crop, snapping it back and forth, slashing across the thrust out rounded rumps, each lashing sinking into the soft, quivering tissue, leaving instant thin red welts forming a couple, lazy “X’s” one across each butt cheek.

       “Agghhhh… Oomph… Oooohhhh!!… Agghhhh!” Each agonizing sequential screech is followed by a rasping breath as the blonde jerks her hips, twists her neck while squints her eyes tightly shut to block the paining

       “Easy Lynn!”  The Dom, stepping in between, scolds while raising her hand, blocking the next lashing.  “Relax, that’s already four!”

       “Oh, okay, yes Mistress!”  Lynn excitedly answers, already feeling perspiration tracing across her heaving, practically exposed breasts, trickling down from her armpits, the thong pinching between her exposed butt cheeks.  “Sorry, sorry Mistress, I’ll slow down!”  She adds, heart pounding, hearing a few favorable comments from behind her, the group obviously taken by her enthusiasm.

       “Now, two more.”  The Dom nods.  “How ’bout across the small of her back, the crack pf her butt, right there!”  She points with her index finger, actually touching the glistening flesh.  “Maybe another “X” will do!”

       “Yes Mistress.”  Swish… Thwack!  Practically without hesitating, the crop flicks from right to left, the tip snapping across the right side of the blonde’s arching back, the rest of the willowy leather glancing down across the dimple above her left butt cheek.

       “Ummphh!”  A grunting squeal as the blonde jerks her head downward, sideways across her sternum, between her swaying breasts, the pain sharper against her bare back as the crop leaves more of a narrow bruise then a welt.

       “Swish… Thwack!”  “Aaaggghhh!”  A backhanded swing, another squeal, the “X” is completed, a tad smaller; a little crooked, but hopefully as the Dom wished.        

       Stepping back, lowering the crop in one hand, Lynn smugly adjusts the top of her brassiere back into place over her overflowing breasts, partially exposed areolas, and tugs the thong down from the split of her slit.  Glancing toward the Mistress, back toward some of the audience’s comments, she steps back toward the blonde’s jerking backside.

       Smiling, tapping the crop against the bare rump, Lynn firmly orders.  “Turn around slave, let them watch me whip those titties next!”

       The blond begins to slowly turn, tugging downward on the taut rope, stretching it from the ceiling behind her crossed arms.

       “Now!”  Lynn orders, tapping the tip of the crop across the left butt cheek. “Now!”

       Swinging around toward the room, head still down, breasts jerking, swaying toward her sides, the blonde’s entire body quivers with agonizing anticipation as she stares vacantly toward the floor.

       Positioning herself to the podium’s right, Lynn again glances toward the Dom, gets the affirmative nod, flicks the crop backhanded.  “Smack!”

       “Gaaaadddd!!!”  Shrieking, twisting, head jerking backwards, the blonde’s left breast jerks toward her armpit, bounces back across her chest, slapping against her right breast.  “Oooohhhh, God!”

       Reaching up, sliding the tip of the crop under the assaulted titflesh, Lynn lifts shoves upwards, giving a good view of the bright red welt already rising across the front of the blonde’s spreading, glistening breast, the stripe centered across her shriveled areola.

Letting the breast drop, she flicks the crop.  “Swish… Smack!”  “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!”  Another scream as the forehand lands across the same breast, again an instant welt, again a primitive “X” across her tortured flesh.

       Shaking, knees bending, arms crossed, stretched above her in the creaking rope, the blonde’s chin scrapes across her sternum, between her quivering breasts as she rasps for breath.  The audience, rather reticent, absorb the scene of the one beautiful submissive lashing the other, one naked, the other practically naked.

       Stepping around the podium, each lashing has brought flashbacks for Lynn as she recalls stroke for stroke, the blonde’s eagerness when their roles were reversed with the crop.  That thought in mind, looking up toward the perspiring, twisting body, the crop snaps back and forth again… And again.  “Swish… Thwack… Swish… Smack!!”

       “Aggghhhhhh…Aggghhhhhh!!”  A couple more rasping screams coincide with the quick backhand, forehand, the blonde’s naked body spinning a semicircle, her right breast flailing, bouncing, the crop leaving another red “X” this one buried into her right areola, nipple, the edges of her surrounding tit flesh.

       Stepping toward the side, Lynn lets the audience get a clear view of her handiwork, the sniveling blonde’s tortured body jerking, twisting above them, crisscrossed with the red welts.  Two lashings left.

       Glancing toward the Dom, Lynn asks.  “Can we bend her over Mistress, spread her legs real wide?!”

       Staring back , nodding, barely smiling, the Dom steps onto the podium, unfastens the rope hanging from the ceiling, forces the startled blonde’s head downward by the back of her neck.  Turning her on the podium, the Dom faces the audience, slides the blonde’s head further downward until the tops of her elbows scrape the floor.  Pushing her knees against the back of the blonde’s head, gripping the backs of the blonde’s thighs, she forces the feet to spread, the butt cheeks to rear upward toward the crowd, her clit protruding from her starkly exposed slit.

       “Like this?”  The Dom nods toward Lynn, who’s obviously surprised.

       Feeling her heart thumping, eyeing that target, at the startled upturned beat red face close to the floor, Lynn barely mutters.  “Yes Mistress, perfect!”

       “Go ahead, anywhere, your choice!”  The Dom scoffs above the murmurs of the intent crowd.

       Positioning herself just to the left of the spread thighs, Lynn rears the crop back in her right fist, flicks it downward, directly in line with the crease of the blonde’s butt cheeks.  “Crack!”

       “Aggghhhhhh!!!”  Jerking, bucking, tiptoeing, the blonde’s screech echo’s from between her spasmodic legs.  A bright red welt instantly rises from the small of her back, disappearing in the flesh separating her moist orifices.

       Holding tight, the Dom can feel the ripple of the blonde’s thigh muscles across her hands, arms, the quivering shoulder muscles pressing across her legs.

       “One more, Lynn… As hard as you want this one time, anywhere you want.  Personally, I’d suggest the clit!  Go ahead!”  The Dom orders as she grips tighter, spreads the blonde’s hips, watching the flexing crop.

       “Yes Mistress, Lynn evilly grins, taking a moment to kneel, glance into the blank, dilated pupils of the blonde’s glassy eyes.

       Leaning closer, between the arched, quivering legs; Lynn presses her face next to the blonde’s ear, practically under her breath, whispers.  “I’ve been saving this one since my first night here!… When you beat my breasts raw!… This one’s going to split your clit, bitch!”

Eyes locking, Lynn grins, that same grin, slips her forefinger slowly, softly down between the blonde’s spread butt cheeks, circles the quivering clit, and gives it a flick.

       “Ready?!”  She asks, griping the crop firmly in her left fist, leaning back.

       Flexing, bowing it’s tip back with her other hand, all the way back until she can feel the very tip scrapping her left wrist, she wait’s a moment, releases it.  “Swisssshhh!… Thwaaacckk!!!”

       “Aaaaaaggggggggghhhhhh!!!… Aaaaaagggghhhhh!!!… Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!   Screaming, contorting, thrashing, the blonde’s tortured body spasms in the Dom’s grip.  Noticeable gasps rise from the audience, mostly women’s, mixing with the blonde’s animalistic shrieks.

       Specks of blood  flick across Lynn’s cheek, chin as she can’t help staring at the sight of the blonde’s pulsing vulva, her slit expanding, contracting, the bud of her clit engorged, oozing blood down her sweat drenched inner thighs.

       “Help me Lynn!”  The Mistress calmly orders.  Lynn acknowledges, dropping the crop, quickly jumping up on the stage, grabbing the blonde’s right arm, shoulder, helping support her limp weight while the Dom positions herself to the blonde’s left.

       Barely conscious, tears crisscrossing her cheeks, the blonde’s head hangs across her sternum as she’s helped off the podium.

       Gazing down across Lynn’s chest, the Dom smirks.  “You know your breast’s hanging out?!

       Glancing down, Lynn notices her right breast’s completely exposed, the nipple hard, swollen, jiggling free, the bra twisted, tugged beneath her firm globe.

       Catching some expressions among the separating crowd, she feels the thong also riding up between her slit, baring her butt cheeks, and more.  It seems most of the looks; the stares are toward her as they walk the blonde toward the double doors.  Glancing back toward the Dom, sheepishly grinning, she retorts.  “So what, if it pleases ‘em!”

End Part Three                                           

       LYNN’S TRAINING

       Chapter Four

       Having taken her shower, wrapped her hair into a tight bun, Lynn rushes, massaging an even coat of body oil across her damp, bare flesh.  The thoughts of her upcoming session with the Dominatrix fill her mind as she can feel the stirring deep inside the pit of her stomach.  Memories of her earlier training sessions leave her with mixed emotions of anticipation, and of a sense of trepidation.  Arching her back, glancing down, reaching across her chest, she drips the oil over her thrust out breasts, melding, caressing the scented lotion into her firm, melon sized globes.

       Hearing footsteps approaching from the hallway, she nervously realizes it’s time.  Smoothing the palms of her hands a final time back and forth, quickly down across her glistening thighs, buttocks, she glances toward the door as it swings open

       “Ready?”  The Dom’s voice is quiet, but stern.  “Assume your position.”

       Quickly spreading her feet as she crosses her arms up behind her head, interlocking her fingers behind her neck while thrusting her swaying breasts outward, Lynn immediately obeys.  Staring straight ahead after fleetingly glancing down toward the Dom’s hands, her heart skips a beat as she can’t help noticing a willowy bamboo rattan flexing in her grip.  Intense memories of her initial training flash thru her mind from the painful thrashing of a similar crop.

       Slowly circling, touching, stroking Lynn’s bare flesh with her free hand, the Dom remains silent, admiring the incredibly exotic body shimmering in front of her, bathed in body oil.  Sliding the side of the rattan gently upward, across Lynn’s bare thigh, across her quivering abs, circling her bellybutton with the tip, she lets it glide down across the nub of her exposed clitoris.  Gently tapping, once, twice, a third time, she watches Lynn’s stomach’s reflexive ripple with each tap while appreciating the seductive sound of her soft whimpers.

       Biting her lip, softly moaning, Lynn continues to stare straight ahead.  The queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach spreads with each touch as she feels the bamboo glide across her slickened flesh, its tip flicking across her clitoris.

       “I told you your Master advised me of some of your indiscretions Lynn.”  The Dom gently speaks as she playfully twirls her fingertips around Lynn’s bare nipple with her free hand.  “I also told you he wants me to discipline you… But then, after that, you’re facing a couple modifications he wants done too!  Understand?”

       “Wha… What?”  Lynn stutters, the Dom’s warning from the past evening resonating in her thoughts.  “What modifications?  Mistress??”  She moans, still staring straight ahead, trying her best to remain motionless, yet feeling that escalating queasiness in the pit of her stomach.

       “Don’t worry about that right now, it’ll come later.”  The Dom answers.  “Anyway, time for your discipline.  Time to give these a workout!”  She adds as she glides the flexing tip of the rattan up, around the quivering pair of symmetrical globes jaunting up off Lynn’s bare chest while firmly gripping the bud of the left nipple between her fingernail and thumbnail.

       “Come, follow me.”  Turning away, the Dom step’s into the hallway while tugging Lynn along by the nipple.

       “Oomph!”   The Dom hears Lynn’s whimper, the slightest of a moan, or groan as she turns, approaches the open double doors of the familiar parlor.

       Trailing the Dom into the empty parlor, Lynn eyes the podium in the center of the room as she’s led painfully toward it.  It’s the same podium, the same rope hanging down from above it, but this time with a wooden “V” shaped split bench centered across it.

       “Up there, straddle that bench, spread those legs wide and keep these tits pushed out.”  The Dom glances into Lynn’s eyes, up to the platform as she instructs with her familiar monotone voice as she gives a final pinch, tug before releasing the taut nipple.

       Immediately obeying, breasts swaying, Lynn steps up onto the podium.  Turning, facing forward with her hands still behind her neck, fingers firmly locked, she squats while trying to center herself.  Sliding her legs out across the separated wooden slates fully exposes her buttocks between the opening of a foot or so of the flat surfaces.  Pressing her heels against the bottoms of the matching wooden, vertical posts rising from the platform, she twists, squirms to align herself.

       Her breasts quiver, thrusting further outward.  Reflexively arching her torso forward while bowing her shoulders back, she stares straight ahead as her thighs stretch, spreading above the slates.  Her butt cheeks compress between the wooden slats of the split bench, the folds of her puffy vulva fully exposed.

       “Here, tie this across your eyes, dear, and then grab that rope above you with both hands.”  The Dom instructs as she hands her a black silk scarf.

       “Yes Mistress.”  Lynn acknowledges, slowly reaching for the scarf while glancing up toward the gently swaying rope above her head.

       Covering her eyes, quickly tying it behind here neck, she stretches, reaches upwards with her left arm, feels for the rope as it brushes across her hand.  Finally grabbing it between her fingers, firmly gripping it, arching her back, she stretches her other arm upward, gripping the end of the rope with both hands.

       “Hold that rope tightly Lynn, don’t let go.”  The Dom instructs as she steps directly in front of the podium.

       Slowly sliding the tip of the rattan across the outer curve of Lynn’s right breast, the Dom taps gently across the firm, symmetrical globe, watching the beading body oil trace across the quivering flesh.

       “Well Lynn, last night you got a taste of being a Dominatrix, didn’t you?”  The Dom softly asks while glancing downward, fascinated with Lynn’s spread eagled squat.

       “Yes  Mistress.”  Lynn blurts, continuing to stare straight forward, into the blindfold, seeing just the faintest of light, the Dom’s hazy outline, through the dark material.  Gripping the rope tighter, she feels the bamboo press across her breast.  Squirming on the wooden slates, mentally preparing herself in her darkness, she waits, nervously anticipates the Dominatrix’s next move, waiting for the rattan to smack across her heaving breasts.

       “Now it’s your turn to be a submissive again… Mine!”  The Dom continues.  “Aren’t you?”  Continuing to softly tweak Lynn’s left nipple, she adds.  “To do with as I please, right?”

       “Yes Mistress.”  Lynn arching, feeling her nipple tingling, immediately replies.  “I’m… I’m your submissive!  To do with as you please!”

       “I might just want to punish these titties, leave some nice decorative welts across ‘em.  But then again, we’ll see.”  The Dom adds, still flicking her wrist.

       Chest pounding, Lynn feels the tip of the rattan now thumping just a little harder across the swelling bud of her right nipple, then a little harder back to her left nipple, back to the right, back and forth, the taps becoming light smacks, her nipples stinging under the flicking bamboo.  “Oohh!”  The softest of moans escapes her slightly parted lips, the rope stretching in her tensing fingers as her chest bucks, breasts sway.

       “What, slave?”  “Did you say something?”  The Dom scolds in a stern voice, yet a smile on her face, shielded from Lynn’s masked eyes.        

       Sliding the tip of the rattan into the hollow of Lynn’s breasts, she lets it slowly glide downward, across her sternum, leaving a glistening trail in the fresh coat of body oil.  Sliding it past her defined ribcage, further downward, across her rippling abs, inverted bellybutton, letting the bowing tip poke inward, holding it steady, she again asks.  “I asked you, what did you say, slave?”        

       Feeling just a smidgeon of relief her breasts weren’t flogged, her stomach trembles, her breasts quivering as she feels the tip of the crop sinking into her bellybutton, Lynn whines.  “Nothing Mistress, I’m sorry, nothing!”

       “Oh, I thought I heard something come from between those luscious lips.”  The Dom admonishes as she continues dragging the rattan downward.

       Her eyes reflexively squinting under the mask while twisting her head away, Lynn senses the bamboo sliding across her pubic mound; on down between the puffy folds of her spread labia.  Reflexively jerking, again the memories of her past discipline sessions resonate through her mind as her hardening clit’s brushed over and pressed back into her moist slit by the stiff tip of the flexing rattan.

       The Dom’s amused, continues the slow, gentle manipulation with the tip as she relishes the moment, reliving the fresh memories of Lynn’s previous training, her discipline sessions from just a few weeks ago.  She intently watches Lynn’s naked body quivering, glistening as it spreads out in front of her, her areolas, nipples, stiff, shriveling on her melon sized breasts.

       Glancing downward, leaning, the Dom reaches out, flicks a fingertip across the rim of Lynn’s anus, tweaking the tender flesh separating the two puckering holes between the quivering butt cheeks.  Hesitating for a brief moment, she spreads the puffy labia folds apart, gently slides the tip of the rattan against the protruding clitoris, wiggling it into the moist, spread slit.  Letting the curling bamboo press against the swelling nub, she softly strokes it in a little deeper, sliding it back out, then in again.  With each careful thrust, she glances up, pats Jodi’s quivering globes, tweaks the nipples, watches them reflexively jiggle.

       “Oomph… Ahhh… Oohhh!”  Each flick, each deeper stroke, combined with the manipulation of her nipples, bring rasping moans, groans as Lynn’s sensitive clit twitches between the bamboo and the apex of her quivering slit.

       Biting her lip, she locks her fingers tighter around the rope, arches her shoulders further back while shoving her breasts forward, toward the Dom’s fleeting fingers.  She finds herself willingly transforming into her submissive role as she feels the tenseness of her naked body surrendering to quivering anticipation.  Her moist vagina, being massaged by the rattan, reflexively quivers as she awaits the sting that’s certainly forthcoming.  Simultaneously, her manipulated, hardening nipples send shivers through her chest.

       Slipping the rattan out from between Lynn’s twitching thighs, noticing the glistening fluid on its tip; she flicks it upwards across the scarf, calmly orders. “Suck it dry.”

       Feeling the bamboo brush across her cheek, across her nose, Lynn parts her lips letting the tip of the glistening bamboo slide into her quivering mouth, press across her tongue.  Sucking, licking, she tastes herself as she slowly slides her mouth forward, the Dom shoving, retrieving the willowy bamboo in rhythm, several strokes, back and forth.

       Satisfied, the Dom snaps the rattan back and forth, steps behind the podium, the split bench.  Glancing toward the taut rounded mounds of Lynn’s buttocks pressing thru the split bench, placing her free hand across the small of Jodi’s back, aiming at the quivering butt cheeks, the Dom whispers.  “Better hang on tight to that rope, girl!” Lightly flicking, lightly tapping.   “Smack!  Smack!”  Pink stripes barely appear horizontally across the tanned flesh, inches below the small of her back.  Hesitating a moment, another two flicks, harsher, an inch or so lower, creases into each cheek.  “Thwack!  Thwack!”

       “Oomph!”  Lynn flinches.  “Oomph!”   Gripping firmly on the twisting rope, her breasts bouncing, swaying, her glistening back arches.

       Glancing up, the Dom catches a view of the outside rounded curves of Lynn’s symmetrical breasts from behind, jiggling, swaying apart.  Smiling, she admonishes.  “Hush!  Or you’re get one across your cunt!  Hear me”

       A pair of red welts instantly rising across the twitching mounds of her butt cheeks, twisting her fingers tightly in the rope, tears well in Lynn's covered eyes as she mutters.  “Yes Mistress!  Yes!”

       Running a fingernail firmly across the fresh welts, still lightly tapping the tip of the rattan across the right mound, she feels Lynn’s body quivering as the rattan flicks back, snaps horizontally across the very center of Jodi’s rounded butt cheek.  “Thwack!”

       “Agghhhh!”  Jerking, twisting, Lynn’s thighs squirm across the wooden slates as she twists at the rope, shaking her head back and forth.

       The stinging pain sears through her twitching butt cheeks as she bites her lip, squints her welling eyes.  The thin bamboo whistling, flexing, burying itself into her soft flesh leaves a purplish welt, again a couple inches below the previous lashings.

       “Thwack!  Thwack!”   A quick backhand, forehand flick another couple inches lower, flattening into both butt cheeks, instantly raising two more chrisom welts.

       “Aaaggghhhhh!”  Another painful screech as Lynn’s hips jerk up off the slats as she bucks, twists, the rope digging into her tensed fingers, the palms of her tightly gripped fists.  “Ohh God!  God!”  The pain stings, burns, sears across her backside.

       Lowering the rattan, the Dom slides the palm of her free hand gently across the rounded mounds, feels the warmth of the raised welts glistening under the beads of perspiration shimmering across the bare flesh.  Enjoying the workout, the Dom slowly steps around the podium, watching Jodi’s naked body quivering, her breasts heaving, glistening as her head hangs forward with her chin just above her sternum.  Lifting the tip of the rattan up and under Lynn’s right breast, she gently raises, lowers it, manipulating the firm glistening globe.

       “Look at me!”  The Dom directs, holding the rattan firm, slipping the scarf down from Lynn’s eyes, watching as she slowly raises her face.

       Tears drip off Lynn’s cheeks as she leans forward, swaying back and forth while tugging nervously on the rope, her backside stinging, burning as she stares pathetically toward the Dom.        

       “I would love to give these titties a good workout too, but we don’t want them marred before we do the modifications your Master requested, do we?”  The Dom continues as she drops the rattan on the podium, cups both breasts in the palms of her hands, melds, caresses the globes as she speaks.

       Eyes widening while slowly shaking her head back and forth, Lynn cringes as her breasts are manipulated, the pit of her stomach queasy as she feels her heart racing, wondering what those dreaded modifications are going to be.  “Oh, no Mistress, no!”  She answers, pleading at the same time.

       “Well then, your punishment session’s over, at least for now.   Let’s rub some lotion across those pretty welts.”  The Dom responds while slowly sliding her fingers down across Lynn’s glistening flesh, coming to rest between her spread thighs.  “If you’re good I’ll let you in on your Master’s instructions, and we might even put it off until tomorrow.”

End Part Four