Certainly Basil Rothberg had imbibed more wine than was usual for him-he had never before let himself speak so frankly to his companion, Lord Hilary Amberton.
Moreover, what Basil Rothberg did not know was that, seated as he was with his friend near the fireplace of the salon, his words, thanks to a curious acoustical effect, were clearly audible in an alcove above, an alcove in which, seated alone, Lady Fiona Savage was intently listening.
"It infuriates me to see that little vixen behave the way she does," said Basil. "Just look at her now!"
He lifted his glass to point out a young woman who moved from one group of guests to another, gaily chatting. Lord Hilary, adjusting his monocle, considered the scene, and remarked, "I've always considered young Caroline quite intelligent, but remember, Basil, that today is her first official ball given in honor of her twentieth birthday."
While the two men spoke, their eyes did not leave the magnificent young girl who wore a superb white satin evening gown and carried herself with the haughty and disdainful grace of a high-fashion model. They watched her lift a forefinger in an imperious signal to inform a valet that she wished another goblet of champagne.
"Bah!" Basil sniffed as he emptied his own glass, "Miss Caroline Martin is too intoxicated with her own person and her social rank. Seeing how she treats everyone who approaches her, I for one would like to be able to take her over my knees and smack her bottom the way one does a badly brought-up child!"
Lord Hilary turned smilingly toward his friend. "Yes," he gently agreed, "I think you'd be quite capable of doing just that. Not that I can blame you, to be sure! On the contrary, I've an idea it wouldn't be unpleasant at all. It reminds me of once in Paris-"
He was interrupted by the arrival of a servant in livery carrying a tray of goblets filled to the brim with sparkling champagne.
"I suppose you must have run into a little whore who agreed to let herself be spanked, eh?" Basil chuckled.
"It can be quite amusing, I don't dispute it. However, it in no way can compare with the experience of spanking the bare behind of a young and very respectable debutante, don't you agree?" And both men, eyeing each other, uttered a suppressed laugh.
"Nothing comparable indeed," Basil agreed. "A debutante most in the public view this season. What a comedown it would be, to be sure!" Both men lifted their goblets and drank slowly. At the same moment, Caroline Martin crossed the salon and came toward then.
What a superb young woman she was! An evening gown, which delicately molded out her charms into full relief the quality of her young beauty. Her firm, high-set breasts were audaciously revealed by the bold decolletage of the gown, whose elegant cut accentuated the slimness of her waist and the roundness of her thighs which one divined through the glossy, immaculate satin, as well as her excitingly long legs. Her bare arms and shoulders had the creamy softness of a camelia. Her hair, of a warm auburn tint, fell in thick curls against her nuque and gently danced at each of her movements. Her large, wide, imperious eyes, more green than chestnut, seemed to flash little golden points. Her lips were full and sensual. In a word, she was a ravishing beauty, all the more desirable because of her stunning insolence of carriage and manner.
Basil Rothberg felt a flood of desire surge through him as he watched her approach. By God, he wanted her, she must be his!
He began to rise to greet her, but at that exact moment she swiftly changed direction and with a haughty glance full of derision moved past the two men toward a group of guests who joyously welcomed her. Basil remained stunned, her subtle and exciting perfume titillating his nostrils; then, red with confusion and rage, he sank back down into his chair, swearing under his breath.
He was a man of about forty-seven, rather patrician-looking, but at this moment beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, and his pale lips were compressed to hide the anger which seethed within him. "Do you see what I mean, Hilary?" he demanded in a voice quivering with fury.
Lord Hilary, who had witnessed with astonishment the maneuver of Caroline Martin, and whose eyes had fixed with admiration on the suggestive undulations of her behind under that clinging satin evening gown, nodded. "She deliberately sought to insult you," he declared. "But tell me, Basil, is there a reason?"
"Yes," Basil replied after a momentary hesitation.
In her little alcove above the salon, Lady Fiona Savage followed this dialogue with burning attentiveness.
"Yes," Basil resumed, "I think I can tell you what it's all about. Recently, I invited Caroline out for the evening. Dinner, the theatre-you know. I frankly admit that my real intentions were not entirely honest, but so what? In short, we were in the taxi, and-the devil, it's ridiculous to tell you such a thing, it's so commonplace! At any rate, I put my hand on her knee-over her dress., mind you. Just a companionable gesture, you understand. And then do you know what happened? She slapped me! Not only that, but she made a real scene, called me all sorts of disagreeable names and then cut me cold for the rest of the evening. Yes, Hilary, just as if I were a clumsy lout just out of college and not a man of my rank and situation!"
Lord Hilary sympathetically shook his head. "A most embarrassing situation, my dear friend," he placated Basil. "I recall finding myself in a somewhat similar episode. It makes one's blood boil, doesn't it? Your disappointment and above all your anger in discovering that the girl won't play the game you'd hoped to get her to cooperate in-but when these vixens won't play, there's not much a man can do, eh?"
Basil Rothberg growled in a menacing tone: "I'd like to be able to force her to play, to use your phrase! Yes-I'd give a lot to have that happen, I would!"
Inflamed by the many goblets of champagne he had emptied, his mind began to conjure up fantasies of what he could do to a Caroline helplessly subjected to his most uninhibited desires....
In her alcove, Lady Fiona Savage smiled with intense satisfaction. She was already formulating a plan that would lead to the project she intended to turn into profitable reality. Caroline Martin, young, charming, popular debutante, a beauty surely destined for a wealthy husband from the most exclusive social order ... never before had such a project tempted Lady Fiona, and what pride it would give her to bring it off successfully!
CHAPTER TWO
General Narrative
The day after Caroline Martin's twentieth birthday, Basil Rothberg received a strange telephone call at his luxurious residence in Belgravia Court, a call from a certain Lady Fiona Savage.
"You wish to see me in private? Is this something concerning my business affairs?" he demanded.
"In a sense, yes," she replied. "And I can assure you it will be to your advantage."
He made a skeptical grimace, for he was often solicited by unknown persons who sought to interest him in dubious ventures. However, something in Lady Fiona's tone began to intrigue him. "Very well," he brusquely agreed. "Meet me at the Dorchester bar at noon."
"No," Lady Fiona Savage parried, "this is an extremely private matter. Can you receive me at your apartment?"
"So be it." He replaced the phone, frowning thoughtfully. He guessed that there would be something bizarre and interesting in the forthcoming proposal, but he had no idea what it might be.
* * *
"The subject is rather delicate, Mr. Rothberg," Lady Fiona declared, "but I think you're a man of sufficient experience so we may have our discussion without either false modesty or hypocritical restraint, and I feel that if what I have to say to you does not interest you, then we have only to forget this conversation."
He glanced at the elegantly attired woman seated opposite him in an armchair, trying to evaluate the proposal she was about to reveal. After all, who was she? These British gentry, who adorned themselves with a thousand and one hypocritical virtues, were capable, he knew well, of more tricks than a tribe of Barbary apes! "You may speak freely," he assured her, "and you may be sure of my complete discretion as a man of honor."
"I'm sure of that, Mr. Rothberg, or I shouldn't have even contacted you. Now, you must know that, quite by a fortunate chance, I happened to overhear the private conversation which you had with Lord Hilary Amberton on the evening of Caroline Martin's birthday."
His face contracted with anger. "What's this? Blackmail?"
She began to laugh. "Do you take me for a child or a fool, Mr. Rothberg? Be reassured, like yourself I'm trustworthily discreet and in no case would turn your secret against you. And now I must tell you that I very sincerely approve of the sentiments you expressed so freely. Like yourself, I find Caroline a young scamp who needs to be put in her place!"
Basil smiled. Lady Fiona was beginning to please him. "And so?" he asked, his tone betraying curiosity.
"Well, I think, my dear sir, that I may be able to help you realize the desire you expressed to Lord Hilary."
He felt a sudden shiver of excitement stir him. "What exactly do you want to tell me?" he demanded.
"I think I may lay my cards on the table," Lady Fiona continued. "However, I must have your word that all this will remain quite confidential between us. Good. From what I understood of your conversation, you desire to possess Miss Martin so as to subject her to discipline and force her to satisfy you. Let's be frank-is that correct?"
For a moment, he felt embarrassed, but he finally decided it was better not to deny it, since he had been overheard without his knowledge. "That's correct ... I want her," he sadly acquiesced.
She nodded her head with a complacent smile. "Very good. But now what would you say if I announced to you a way, a certain way, of achieving your goal? And believe me, I'm not speaking of marriage. No, what I'm thinking of, Mr. Rothberg, is the method by which you can do whatever you wish to her. When ... or how ... just as your fancy dictates! And she to be submissive to all this in the most exact sense of the word. In the sense the Roman patricians meant when they spoke of their girl-slaves!"
As he heard these surprising words, Basil Rothberg felt a wave of lubricity thrill him with eager hope. Lady Fiona was proposing to him exactly what he had been dreaming of for quite some little time; and so, despite his business sagacity and his customary habit of never letting his true sentiments be known, he could not restrain himself from exclaiming: "I'd do anything to have that!"
Lady Fiona smiled with satisfaction and leaned back at her ease. The battle was already half won.
Yet his instinctive distrust led him to pursue the issue: "But how could that be possible? You're speaking of fantasy-but this is the twentieth century, and such things aren't possible!"
"No?" she gave him a mocking smile and resumed: "You would be quite surprised, Mr. Rothberg, if I were to tell you all the things reputedly impossible yet which are reality just the same, believe me! In the case that interests us, yes, it's quite possible, but it will also be most expensive!"
Needless to say, this direct allusion to his bank account did not in the least trouble Basil, so tempted was he by the perspective which had been revealed. He made a gesture with his hand as if to say that the question of money was hardly of any concern to a man of his importance.
"I can give you concrete examples of similar cases with which I myself have been involved," she declared, "but unfortunately, not here. I don't have what is needed. All I can tell you for the moment is that, in the past few years, a certain number of lovely young girls have suddenly disappeared without being found again. They are considered as dead, but I can personally assure you they're quite alive! Securely transferred to some foreign land for the pleasure of certain men who desired them, in the same way and for the same purposes that you hope to possess Caroline Martin."
Basil Rothberg leaned forward, his hands clutching the arms of his chair. He was quite aware that the woman opposite him had set a trap for him and fairly taken him in it. Yet whereas in a business deal he would have been violently irritated to find himself so ensnared, now he felt only an intense curiosity. "Are you really sure of what you claim?" he demanded. "Are such things truly possible? I hope you aren't trying to trick me."
"Trick you?" she echoed. "No, Mr. Rothberg, hardly. I'm not a charlatan. I simply deal in a special kind of business, with a certain kind of wealthy persons like yourself. I regret I cannot immediately give you the indisputable proofs of what I've mentioned just now, but I shall certainly do so before we come to any agreement at all. I only wish to tell you this now-according to my own confidential sources of information, at this very moment, if a certain Miss Jane Rayner (who is a very charming young girl of nineteen) does not bow without the slightest revolt to the orders which are being given her, I can assure you that she is going to be very severely whipped. Yes, whipped, and on her naked bottom, by the man who has become her master. And the same punishment awaits two or three other lovely young girls whom I myself have procured for gentlemen who wished to turn them into their personal slaves. The names of these girls are Miss Barbara Lambourn, Miss Tessa Milne, and Miss Joan Logan."
He had no longer any doubts. Her tone did not suggest she was deceiving him; she was too calm, too sure of herself to be saying anything but the truth. Excitement mounted in him like an attack of fever. This could be either the most sensational or the most disastrous affair that had ever been proposed to him! Yet it was so extraordinary that he could not help questioning her again: "You really think it can be brought off?"
"I think," Lady Fiona firmly declared," it can indeed, otherwise I should be wasting my time, and above all, I shouldn't permit myself to make you waste yours. But, let me repeat, it will cost a great deal of money. Happily, I know you're rich and that you aren't niggardly when it comes to spending for your pleasure."
"It's true I'm affluent," he gave her a cynical smile, "but that's something hardly prudent to admit when one's discussing a piece of business."
Knowing he sought to change the subject, Lady Fiona hastened to turn the conversation toward a more attractive topic for her eventual client: "Perhaps you'd prefer to imagine Miss Caroline Martin in tire same situation as that in which Miss Jane Rayner now finds herself? Can you imagine that, Mr. Rothberg? Caroline, her bottom naked and you near her, a whip in your hand. Free to use it as you please. To whip her bottom, as much as it pleases you to do so, to make her cry, to make her shriek, to have her at your knees, ready to obey your every whim!"
"That's enough!" he cried, his face reddening with excitement. "No need to tempt me any more. You've won me over and you know it. You ask me if I can imagine myself about to whip Caroline without mercy? Oh, yes, Lady Savage, I imagine it quite well. In fact, I must admit it, there's nothing that could please me more, for you've guessed it quite shrewdly-I'm a true sadist and I adore whipping those lovely girls who fall into my clutches. Yes, Lady Savage, I'm a sadist!"
"But there's no shame in being sadistic and admitting it, Mr. Rothberg," Lady Fiona smilingly replied. "Indeed, many persons have instincts of domination and sadism, but few have occasion to give free rein to these secret penchants. You, by good fortune, are not in that powerless category. And now, dear Mr. Rothberg, are you sufficiently interested to discuss more in detail my little idea?"
"You know my answer," he chuckled.
"Good!"
* * *
"Normally an operation of this type," Lady Fiona Savage explained, "costs about twenty thousand pounds, but let me also inform you that the young lady in question can be resold for a good price when you are tired of her. You have only to let me know, and I can easily arrange such a sale. I know a few little Arabian rulers who will still pay a handsome price for a white slave, even if she has already been in another's service. But in Caroline Martin's case, considering that she comes from the highest society and in view of her great beauty and the difficulty of this enterprise, the tariff will be higher-thirty thousand pounds!"
Basil started, for that was quite a sum, even for a man as rich as he was. But he knew that even if Lady Fiona had said 300,000 pounds, he would have accepted her terms. "But-assuming I accept your price, how-I mean-how will I know that I'm going to get what I want? I mean-will I really be able to make her do anything I want?"
Lady Fiona began to laugh at his nervous faltering and waved her hand with a reassuring gesture. "My dear Mr. Rothberg, I see you didn't understand me clearly. The most important clause in our agreement will be this: before the young lady is delivered to you, quite discreetly and without any risk for you, she will undergo a special training which will condition her for her new existence as a love-slave. She will be, I can promise you, most deliciously submissive and obedient when the time has come to serve you."
Basil felt his blood boil at the thought of being able to savor the physical charms of beautiful Caroline Martin according to his most despotic whims. But 30,000 pounds, all the same! And then again, how could he be certain that Lady Fiona's predictions would really come true? All this seemed so much like an incredible dream....
As if divining his doubts, she pursued: "Naturally, you haven't yet given me your full confidence. Oh yes, I see that clearly! I'm not surprised, and I admire your prudence. However, to give you definite proof that this is not a trick in bad taste to mulct you of your money, let me offer this proposition. First, five thousand pounds in advance. Ten thousand when you learn of Caroline's disappearance. Ten thousand more upon delivery, and the remaining five thousand after a week's trial, in order to assure yourself that she will give you full satisfaction. Which, by the way, I am absolutely positive she will."
He remained seated, silent, meditative, for a long moment, seeking to reason calmly; but each time the staggeringly high sum posed before him and made him think of refusing, the very idea that so much money would procure for him undreamed-of delights made him shudder with anticipatory pleasure.
If all this was true ... if everything happened as Lady Fiona had assured him it would ... then the thirty thousand pounds will assuredly be well spent. If Lady Fiona Savage rose. "I don't at all want to hurry your decision," she smilingly remarked as she drew on her gloves. "Will you call me in two or three days when you've thought it over? Here's my phone number." And she gave him a little slip of paper; he pocketed it without a word and amiably escorted her to the door.
* * *
Basil Rothberg was leafing through the pile of newspapers and magazine articles he had been clipping out for the past two or three years, for all of them pertained to the principal object which preoccupied him: Caroline Martin. He had photos of her from seventeen till the present time, and all of them underlined the arrogance and disdain imprinted on her charming face. That arrogance was even more strikingly emphasized in the diverse news articles and gossip columns:
"'Men only bore me,' says the deb of the year, Caroline Martin."
"'Marriage doesn't tempt me at all!" Miss Caroline Martin told us."
"Scandal at a style show! 'I'm able to model better than all these mannequins,' Caroline Martin disdainfully declares!"
There were dozens of such articles accenting the mercurial and infuriating character of this beauty. Basil's attention finally centered on a clipping of more than usual interest:
"Caroline Martin slaps the photographer and tries to break his camera," read the caption. And there was a photo showing a furious Caroline in a bathing suit, which displayed all the beautiful of the voluptuous body of a veritable young goddess. The episode had occurred at a beach on the southern coast of France, and the newspaper article related in detail the incident in which Caroline had slapped the unfortunate reporter for having had her picture taken' without her permission for, as she later explained, it was intolerable to permit anyone in the world to see her in such an intimate costume. She, Caroline Martin, felt herself far too distinguished to be displayed like any commoner to the hoi polloi.
Basil reassembled his pile of clippings with a cynical smile. Oh, yes, he knew very well that Caroline was a saucy baggage who fancied herself privileged by dint of birth and beauty. And suddenly Lady Fiona Savage's words came back to him: "She will be quite deliciously submissive and obedient."
What supreme joy it would give him to be able to force her to do certain things the very thought of which made his heart pound wildly! Brusquely, he took the phone and dialed Caroline's number, and she herself answered.
"This is Basil Rothberg," he said.
"Oh, you!" At once he detected the clearly disgusted tone she used in pronouncing those two words. "What do you want?"
"I was wondering if you'd accept an invitation to dinner and the theater this evening."
Across the wire, he heard her laugh derisively. "An invitation to repeat the little seance in the taxi that other time, I suppose? Well, certainly not! In any case, I'm not accustomed to accepting the invitations to charity balls. I ask you not to telephone me again, Mr. Rothberg," And there was a click as she hung up.
Rage and frustration swept him, his face empurpled with anger. "The filthy little bitch! That damned, insolent vixen!"
In his fury, he was about to dial Lady Fiona's number at once, but instead poured himself a stiff Scotch, flung himself into an armchair and tried to regain his self-control. His thoughts began to wander and, quite naturally, sought to concoct a vengeance wherein he would have free rein to chastise Caroline for such insolence. And after a few moments, he had come to a decision; he would accept Lady Fiona's proposal. The idea of having Caroline at his mercy suddenly seemed so marvelous that he began to laugh with pleasure. What would proud Caroline Martin say if she suspected he was ready to pay the first installment of the sum whose stake she was?
So, the next morning, after having obtained an appointment by telephone, he went to Lady Fiona's apartment. She received him graciously and made him sit down in a salon where they would be sure of not being disturbed. The five thousand pounds in hundred pound notes changed hands; then, after she had placed the money in a little coffer, Nevil asked her to give him some additional details on how Caroline was to be carried off.
"You must understand, Mr. Rothberg, that I absolutely cannot give you the slightest explanation of the methods or the techniques of the organization to whom I belong. I can, however, assure you that it will not be more than a month-or at the very latest five or six weeks before our young friend 'disappears.'"
"But how will it happen? Won't it lead to a terrible scandal?"
"Not necessarily. Many persons disappear whose bodies are never recovered. Others fall prey to a strong nervous depression and must be discreetly shut up in private sanitariums. Still others suffer amnesia and are heard from only after long years."
She rose abruptly, adding, "We'll go into a little study where we shan't be disturbed." Basil eagerly followed her into a little room, saw her bolt the door, and observed a movie projector and screen installed at one of the sides of the room, ready for use. "Sit down, Mr. Rothberg," she invited him, "while I get the film ready. You will see several sessions of training and special discipline to which a little shopgirl is subjected, the same as will be applied to Caroline Martin."
CHAPTER THREE
Personal Narrative of Basil Rothberg
I'm a man of experience who has had a fair share of erotic adventures. However, I must admit, the one in which I was now involving myself was rather exceptional, and rarely had I experienced such anticipatory excitement as I now felt come over me. Lady Fiona Savage turned off the light and set the projector running with an assured calm which demonstrated better than words how sure she was of this affair.
Upon the screen there first appeared letters and figures in an incomprehensible order. "Merely a code," she explained to me. But then suddenly there appeared a close-up of the young shopgirl, Jane Rayner. No doubt was possible; that face was marked by despair and terror.
The film's impeccable clarity rendered every detail in a most exceptional way. The first thing that struck me was that Jane Rayner was gagged. A kind of apparatus formed out of a short steel bar, made somewhat like a bit for a horse, had been placed in her mouth and solidly maintained by thin leather straps fixed behind her head. The gleaming steel bar harshly buried itself against her lips and cheeks, which must have hurt her atrociously, though, by a kind of cruel irony, the instrument pitilessly widened her mouth into a rictus that suggested laughter. Her eyes had the look of a wounded animal, and great tears rolled down her cheeks.
The camera held that close-up for a long moment, so I had ample time to observe the horror and despair on that charming face and in her lovely large eyes supremely dilated by her anguish.
"The form of discipline which you see applied here," Lady Fiona Savage softly explained to me, "was probably inflicted as a punishment for a fault of speech. Perhaps Jane Rayner spoke without permission, or perhaps, again, in a moment of rage, she forgot herself sufficiently to utter insulting words in the presence of her trainers." She smiled at me, and then added:
"Sometimes, when this is not the first fault of this kind which is to be punished, they use a bar studded with tiny, sharp points."
Jane's gaze and the way she shook her head sufficed to tell me what torturing discomfort she was experiencing at the time this film was being made. Suddenly, the camera began slowly to show a panoramic view, and I perceived an iron or steel collar round the girl's slim white neck; to this collar there was fixed a chain which in turn fastened to a huge metal ring set into the wall.
"You see, she's in a cell," Lady Fiona told me. "Quite naked, as you'll soon observe, and chained as she is, this constitutes an excellent disciplinary method."
The camera seemed to draw back, and now the young girl was visible to her waist. As Lady Fiona had said, Jane Rayner was naked. Her breasts were really lovely. Young, splendidly firm, with delicious dark aureola and nipples quite well developed: little, but out-thrusting. Just from seeing that splendid bosom, my hands trembled as if I were about to touch that warm young flesh.
"Lovely breasts, aren't they?" Lady Fiona commented. "You can see why Jane was able to attract our client!"
"Yes," I replied. My voice, I noted with vexation, was much hoarser than I wanted her to hear.
Again, the camera took in a little more range, revealing all of the girl's bosom, then the delightfully curved little belly marked in its center by a darling little navel. And then lower still I was terribly excited, in full erection!
I could see Jane's pussy now, and I started with surprise. An agreeable surprise, for the girl's vulva had been most carefully depilated, which enabled me to see most clearly her enchanting slit and the two plump lips of her pussy as bare as those of a little girl not yet out of puberty.
"The hairs which hide her slit were purposely re moved," Lady Fiona murmured to me, "so she might feel herself still more naked and must expose her most intimate parts to the eyes of her trainers without in any way being able to conceal them. It's a very fine psychological technique in training, believe me. I can assure you that Caroline will lose much of her insolence at the same time she loses her pubic hair!"
At the thought that one day soon I could see Caroline Martin's pussy bare and revealed as Jane's, I felt my cock throb with excitement and stiffen till it ached. I would have liked to be alone so that I might have caressed it lingeringly while I thought of my pleasures with Caroline, but apart from the fact that Lady Fiona was beside me, the film which continued anew attracted my intense attention.
This time, I had a complete view of Jane, naked and chained to the wall and cruelly gagged by the steel bit bar.
"Have you noticed the marks on the sides of her thighs?" Lady Fiona asked.
Till she drew my attention to that area, I actually hadn't, absorbed as I was by the total ensemble of this fascinating tableau; but now I could perceive the marks she cited.
"Those are the stripes left by the lash," Lady Fiona pointed out. And, as if to whet my lust the more, she added: "In a few moments, you'll see her bottom. Her trainer-or, rather, I should say, her assistant trainer-is coming for her. I must explain to you, Mr. Rothberg, that Jane's master of education is in reality a woman who often uses a male assistant-ah, here he is now!"
The camera seemed to turn toward the door of the cell, which opened slowly. Framed in the doorway stood a tall, slender man, of nervously muscular appearance. His age was rather hard to determine, since his face was covered with a black silk mask-but that mask was his only covering. So my gaze was at once drawn towards his cock, for it was thick and long, and it hung heavily in a state of flaccidity between his muscular thighs. That massive weapon, circumsised to make it look still more obscene, was slightly pushed forward by the oblong mass of two enormous testicles which set off that disturbing virility; and I found myself wondering whether that masked man used his cock during his "educational lessons"-in which case, his female pupils must surely feel it!
"Ordinarily, the assistant trainer isn't masked," Lady Fiona explained," but for this film it was deemed best for security reasons."
The camera again directed itself toward Jane, who was showing visible signs of agitation. Her eyes had dilated with apprehension, her face had turned a little to one side as if she sought to escape from the obscene vision of the naked man, and she had recoiled and instinctively pressed herself against the stone wall of her cell.
The man approached, and I saw him talking to the young girl. She vigorously nodded to show that she had agreed to what he had proposed. The masked trainer came very close to her, and I noticed her instinctively shrinking back as if to try to avoid contact with his naked body; but he, perhaps to emphasize the futility of such an effort, clutched her titties with both hands and began to press them together, then began to slap them lightly from top to base to make them jiggle.
His mask did not hide his sadistic smile during this "exercise." Now, suddenly, he took hold of his heavy penis between two fingers and began to rub its enormous head against the depilated vulva of the lovely captive, who stiffened with revulsion at this obscene contact which she obviously loathed. Ah, how I envied that man; just seeing him, I had the hard-on of an animal in rut!
Ceasing his tantalizing little game, he now removed the girl's gag. Then I knew how cruel her ordeal had really been, for the camera showed a close-up of the implement, and I perceived that the steel bar shaped like a horse's bit proffered in its middle a metal ball garnished all over with tiny points which, when the gag was in place, viciously dug into the sufferer's mouth.
Jane lowered her head and panted with relief. Two long streaks marked her cheeks, where the steel bar had compressed tender flesh.
"I hardly think she'll try any more tricks after a little treatment like that," Lady Fiona remarked in an amused tone.
"No, no, I don't think she'd care to try," I laughingly agreed.
How strange it was-already I felt completely at my ease with this woman, nor did I try to hide the pleasure this film was giving me. Now I saw upon the screen that the masked assistant was unlocking the collar from Jane Rayner's neck, then his lips moved, evidently to give his pupil an order, for I saw her sink down on her knees, then put herself on all fours, and, bowing her head, docilely kiss the feet of her "professor of deportment."
"This is an exercise in humility," was Lady Fiona's comment.
Meanwhile, the camera moved behind the crouching young beauty, and my excitement grew much more intense, for now I could see not only Jane Rayner's voluptuous naked behind but also all her secret parts. The camera close-up fixed on the two globes, distended in the girl's humiliating posture. Those hillocks were streaked with long dark strata, evident testimony of a recent flogging. But the most exciting nuance was that the entire furrow between her bottomcheeks was fully in view; her hairless pussy emerged at the back, opening like an obscene mouth, the thick lips slightly parted as if inviting the massive weapon which hung between her trainer's thighs. Above, with not a hair or the slightest down showing in the delicate folds, appeared the delicate anus of Jane Rayner.
I need not underline the fact that very rarely can a man thus contemplate the two most intimate orifices of a young woman, hence I could the more particularly appreciate this charming and maddeningly provocative vista. Truly, it was one of the most sensational experiences I had ever known!
And Lady Fiona roused my passions still more by remarking in a complacent tone, "Your true satisfaction will come, Mr. Rothberg, when you're able to contemplate in the same way the most intimate parts of your beautiful Caroline!"
Truly, at that moment I told myself that thirty thousand pounds to have "my" Caroline thus proffered was, after all, not so dear!
* * *
The film now came to the end of the reel and the screen went blank. I felt a vague disappointment, for I wished it might go on. But again Lady Fiona showed herself a psychological expert in pushing forward my desires, if I may say so. She hovered around the projector and said to me, so I would remain patient during this interval, "In the second real, you'll see young Jane Raynor whipped by her trainers."
This time, the first person to appear on the screen was a woman. A woman between two ages, so it seemed to me, and severely clad in a dress of black silk with a high neck in true Victorian mode. She was shod with black kid boots tightly laced along beautiful legs sheathed in black nylon stockings. She too wore a mask, so that most of her face was hidden, but her mouth with its compressed, thin lips in horizontal line let me expect a cruel, sadistic nature. Extending her hand, she took from a table placed nearby a long yellow wicker switch, whose handle was covered with leather, and bent it between her hands as if to test its suppleness.
"This is the mistress of education and deportment. We call her "The Countess,'" Lady Fiona informed me. "I believe that the seance we are going to watch must have been filmed at the beginning of Jane's training, for you can see that the whip which will be used to punish her does not belong to the severer species."
Severer? Yet it seemed to me quite sufficiently severe, just looking at it. What must poor Jane, who was about to feel it land across her bottomcheeks, think of it? I was not to be long in finding out, for the camera moved again, and I saw her, still naked, kneeling, her arms stretched out in a supplicatory gesture. Her lips were moving, and it was easy to guess that she was imploring mercy. Behind her stood, masked, his cock still obscenely in display, the assistant I had observed in the previous film; he was there, naked and motionless, his arms crossed, visibly awaiting the orders of The Countess.
CHAPTER FOUR
Continuation of the Personal Narrative of Basil Rothberg
"Let me point out to you," Lady Fiona observed, "that this does not take place in the real chamber of punishments. I think it must be the office of The Countess, which confirms my belief that we shall witness a seance taken at the beginning of Jane Rayner's educational training. Probably Jason-that's the assistant trainer's name-is just going to begin his work."
"Yes, yes, I see," I said nervously, for I needed no more explanations; the films were superbly sharp as to detail, lighting, presentation. I could only wish I owned such stimulating expositions of erotic adventures!
The Countess made a sign to Jason, who quickly advanced and plunged his hand into Jane's tresses; the young girl started with terror and began to struggle violently. This struggle to escape her executioners were admirably captured by the camera.
Her eyes widened by fear, her face contorted in apprehension, her lovely naked breasts swaying and jiggling from left to right at each violent movement she made, her body shuddering like that of a rebellious young mare, her long legs rippling with nervous spasms. Jason's hands, in seeking a firm hold, seemed to glide all over the supple naked body which struggled in his arms, as in a series of vicious caresses. He visibly took advantage of his emprise by manipulating her breasts and wickedly pinching her nipples.
Then, of a sudden, the screen showed a huge close-up of his hand about to smack her naked backside, then it slipped between her thighs from behind to disappear till I saw his wrist press just under her bare bottom. Now, a new angle of the camera showed his hand reappearing at the base of her abdomen, its fingers closing over her hairless pussy. He had at last found an irresistible grip!
Lifted by her pussy while his other hand plunged into her disheveled tresses, Jane Rayner found herself lifted from the floor without being able to offer any other resistance than futile kicks, while her mouth yawned in a wild shriek of suffering and terror.
The Countess tapped with the end of her long switch the arm of an old club chair which had been upholstered in leather. Jason effortlessly carried his charming prey to the chair and flung her down like a bundle of rags over the thick leather-covered chair arm; then, before she had time to straighten up, he sank down on her, mashing her bare breasts against the seat and, seizing her wrists, pitilessly drew them behind her back as in a judo hold.
Then he slowly stood up, but to prevent Jane's escaping his hold, he applied a knee against her nuque, forcing her contorted, tearstained face against the cold leather chair seat.
We next had a series of huge close-ups directed to the part of Jane's body reposing over the arm of the club chair, which is to say, her loins, and all the magnificence of her backside which was uplifted by the arm, and her long bare legs which angled down to the rug.
She writhed and twisted frantically in the vain hope of disengaging herself, which enabled me to perceive, in thrilling flashes, the vista of her hairless pussy, when she kicked her legs like a swimmer eager to win the race.
"Just as I told you, a simple little shopgirl, but I think you already understand why our client was smitten with such a mad desire for her," Lady Fiona commented with a wry smile.
To be sure, I understood! Nineteen, lovely Jane Rayner, despite her humble background, had more than one point in common with my own haughty beauty Caroline! I asked myself what Jane's new master must have paid for her, considering the difference in the girl's social situation. On the screen, The Countess was speaking, seemingly lecturing her pupil, and I waited with feverish impatience for the moment when she would begin the training and chastise her undisciplined beauty.
Finally the moment seemed to have arrived! The Countess came to stand behind the captive and with the end of her switch calculated the necessary distance then, raising the instrument of punishment, she descended it violently full across the victim's naked bottomcheeks. My heart seemed to leap in my breast at the moment when the willow switch ferociously kissed the pale flesh of Jane's bare behind, instantly streaking it with a thick, livid weal, while the entire bottom gave vent to a veritable bound of suffering. Once again the willow switch rose and fell with full fury....
Again, Jane's bottomcheeks convulsively started, and I saw the stripe of a frightfully swollen mark, extremely torturing if I were to judge from the wild kicks which agitated poor Jane's lovely long naked legs....
The switch rose and once again furiously slashed over the bounding naked behind, and a new weal encircled the plump globes. Now the camera turned upon the face of the young shopgirl, pressed against the leather seat cushion by the weight of Jason's knee. Those beautiful eyes, drowned in tears, bulged under the goad of the suffering which ravaged her tender bottom-her widely yawning mouth must have released a torrent of cries and shrieks-alas, inaudible in this silent film, a fact I deeply regretted!
"Yes!" Lady Fiona remarked," this whipping must indeed have been inflicted at the start of her arrival in our organization, for the girl seems to be extremely sensitive, you see. Later on, such captives are better trained and can be subjected to far more severe thrashings than this mere dusting-off!"
I was astonished by the calm tone of her voice; true, she was used to such scenes, ah, much more than I was, my heart thudding madly, my cock in such erection it felt as hard as an iron stake!
My eyes burning with concentration, I followed the scene of flagellation without letting a single detail escape. The Countess applied ten lashes with the switch on her pupil's naked bottomcheeks; and although it seemed impossible to me each time, each such lash provoked a frenzied redoubling of kicks and contortions brought on by an excess of agony.
The camera remained fixed for a long moment after the last lash had danced across that magnificent bare backside, so that I could behold the long streaks turning mauve, obviously so this portion of the film might show the spectator what the effects of that painful punishment were like. Then the Countess replaced the switch in her desk, and Jason lifted his knee from Jane Rayner's neck, but he retained hold of her wrists and made her slip down from the armchair to kneel before the Countess. Then we were given a panning shot to close-up of that entrancing face, streaked with tears and moistened with saliva, as well as of the naked bosom agitated by shudderings and heavings, for poor Jane was sobbing with all her heart, in a way which made my erection threaten to burst, even though I could not hear a sound of those agonized plaints.
The Countess began to speak; doubtless she was continuing the sermon which she had begun before applying the switch. Jane nodded, sobbing with despair; then, at a sign from the masked woman, Jason plunged both hands into Jane's hair and lifted her to her feet, tearing new cries from her before he left the room, dragging the helpless naked captive behind him.
Toward what new ordeals? Ah, how I should have loved to see them!
* * *
"I think you might like to drink something, Mr. Rothberg."
A few minutes had passed since the second film ended, which had enabled me to regain my composure by the time Lady Fiona offered her invitation. "Yes, yes, indeed, it wouldn't go badly," I laughingly agreed, "for, you see, I'm much less accustomed than you are to witness such a spectacle!"
"I don't doubt that at all, sir, but don't forget that what you have seen are things you can do every day when Caroline Martin will be in your possession!"
I followed her into the salon and, while she served me a brandy, I installed myself in a comfortable armchair.
"Are you perhaps somewhat more convinced now that I'm not trying to trick you, as you thought at the start?" she asked in a mocking tone, as she held out to me a box of excellent Havana panatelas, one of which she lit for herself.
"I'm entirely convinced," I smilingly replied. "The only thing I'd like to know now is the delay you're going to impose on me before I can take possession of my new purchase."
She lifted an appeasing hand. "A certain lapse of time is quite essential, dear Mr. Rothberg. However, I advise you to read the newspapers attentively, oh, say, about a month from now. They will certainly report something of prime interest to you."
I smiled with satisfaction. "Am I also to understand," I asked, "that Caroline is going to endure the same fate and the same kind of educational training-as you call it-that I just saw in those two films?"
"Exactly the same!"
I felt the blood surge to my face at the thrill these simple words procured, and at all they let me divine and foresee. I was silent for a moment as I drew on the fragrant Havana cigar; then a new idea seized me: "I shouldn't want to be too demanding," I said, "but mightn't I witness these educational sessions?"
Lady Fiona shook her head. 'I'm sorry to refuse you, Mr. Rothberg! The Countess, who is the head of our organization, would never permit it. You must content yourself with the product that will be delivered to you after the disciplinary stage has taken place."
I felt an intense frustration at this, but then I told myself that, after all, I really had nothing to complain about. The Organization, I said to myself, worked according to certain well-established rules, which I could hardly expect them to relax for me. As if to make me forget this summary refusal, Lady Fiona gave me an amicable smile: "You must always remember, Mr. Rothberg, that this 'educational training' does not necessarily cease with the delivery of the subject. It's very possible you may discern faults in Caroline's future behavior, despite the severe training we shall make her undergo."
And, leaning toward me, her smile deepening, she added significantly, "In that case, the task would be yours to remedy her misconduct!"
My heart began to beat madly while Lady Fiona went on, in a harsher, more cruel tone: "And for that, I feel that the best method for you would be to thrash her, to whip her, to spank her, each time the desire to do so takes hold of you, since-and never forget this-you will be her absolute master, with every right over her! Having told you this, I place myself entirely at your discretion. As soon as you will have read the news of the disappearance of your future slave, I'll get in touch with you. A week later, at the very most. Till then, you must be patient. You understand that in this kind of operation, we must all act with extreme prudence, for this is no children's game. And now, a last glass before we say au revoir?"
* * *
A month later, I was in my office one fine morning. As I opened the newspapers, my heart bounded. The picture of Caroline Martin was in the center of the front page and there was news, great news!
And what had happened to her? What did the story say?
Quite simply this:
"Caroline Martin, former debutante, twenty-one, young lady from high society, has disappeared with her boat. She had taken a ride on her little sailboat in spite of alarming weather reports. What happened to this courageous young girl? It seems to be a mystery. The little sailboat was found, half shattered against the rocks, but her body has not yet been found. The search goes on for the past two days, but in vain; it is believed the young woman must have been drowned while swimming in powerful undertow. Ah, the mad temerity of youth!"
I burst into uncontrollable laughter. At that moment I understood that my money had begun to pay dividends! Caroline Martin had just begun a long and painful voyage, and it would be myself whom she would find at the end of the road, to welcome her-warmly!
CHAPTER FIVE
General Narrative
The organization to which Basil Rothberg had confided the charge of fulfilling his most secret desires and which had the code name "Rio 9" was, in reality, a kind of specialized secret service which undertook the kidnapping and training of young women destined for very rich clients. In the present case, "Rio 9" had proceeded to the abduction of Miss Caroline Martin, while astutely camouflaging that feat under the guise of a boat accident and drowning due to the young woman's imprudence.
In reality, Miss Martin had been "shipped" to Morocco, to a secret abode where she would be subjected to severe training in order to be conditioned to the special penchants of Basil Rothberg. The Countess was one of the key figures of "Rio 9"; indeed, she was one of the personnel who was secretly in charge of the direction of thisingenious ring of slave-traders. At the moment, her headquarters were located in the heart of the Atlas Mountains. In that desolate area, there was no better provision throughout the entire organization for the assembling of the various kidnapees and their methodical training.
"Rio 9" had, moreover, a magnificent "front." No one for a moment would have suspected The Countess of her actual activities; her real name was Countess of Messina and she ranked among the oldest nobility of Europe. Married three different times, she had acquired from her successive spouses an enormous fortune. Only daughter of a noble Italian family who had always indulged her wildest whims, she had now retired from the conventional world to live in peace, so she said, in her North African domain.
But this domain was in a setting so wild and inaccessible that no one had ever had the courage to pay her a visit. It was an ancient Arabian fortress situated on so precipitous an incline as to be thought deserted now; moreover, the natives shunned it, for they considered it under the baleful influence of a mystic curse.
How far they were from suspecting that the inside of this old fortress had been furnished with a luxury and comfort which could be equaled only by sumptuous palaces in Rome, or the French Riviera or those lordly villas of Rio and Buenos Aires! Thus set apart from civilization, The Countess and her personnel, all members of "Rio 9," were visited only by couriers and agents of their organization.
It was to this fortress that Caroline Martin was sent. The young woman had absolutely no knowledge of that fateful journey, for she had been heavily drugged and solidly bound inside a packing case bearing a Red Cross label that read "Medical Supplies. Handle With Care-Fragile!" She had been taken by airplane to Casablanca under the safeguard of an association allegedly belonging to the Swedish Red Cross, so that there was no trouble whatsoever with customs. And finally, that packing case had been conveyed by jeep to Ben-Abar, the castle of The Countess. She had no way of knowing it, but she was now the property of "Rio 9."
* * *
The Countess, clad as was her wont in a long, severely tailored black silk dress of Victorian style, pressed a button on the intercom of her desk. A few seconds later, a man's voice responded: "Yes, Madame?"
"Please come to my office at once, Jason," she remarked, then cut off the connection and began to study a stack of papers before her. The new arrival seemed to be quite interesting ... an excellent price of sale ... Caroline Marshall, age just past twenty, a former debutante from the finest English aristocracy ... characterized as very proud and haughty ... bought from "Rio 9" by Basil Rothberg, a wealthy industrialist, for delivery after a complete training.
"Excellent!" The Countess said aloud as she pored through a scrapbook illustrated with clippings and press clippings, the "dossier," so to speak, of the newcomer. "This young lady truly seems to have quite a temperament!"
Jason Vanwell entered the office.
He was a tall, slender, handsome man with silvery gray at the temples, a long aristocratic face, in the full verve of his forty years. His swarthy complexion, shining white teeth, the steely glare of his gray-blue eyes, gave him a most personable mien, though his face sometimes displayed a strange expression created by vice and cruelty. He respectfully inclined his head before the woman in black.
"Jason," The Countess declared, "we're about to receive a new shipment, and we must go back to work! Ah, by the way, I must pass on to you management's congratulations on Jane Rayner, the one we delivered recently. Her new master is enchanted with her; it appears that she is completely submissive and executes her purchaser's most complex wishes."
Jason again inclined his head, smiling: "After the training we administered, I should have been surprised only if there had been no compliment on her obedience. In any case, I'm quite happy that our work is appreciated by the chiefs of our organization."
The Countess smiled back at him before continuing: "The new arrival will be a girl from the highest London society, so that we will have both beauty and class to deal with. That will make our task more interesting, don't you think?"
A lascivious smile curved his sensual lips. "Yes, I think so, Madame."
She nodded. "The reception will take place tomorrow at noon. So make the customary arrangements for tomorrow evening."
"Very good, Countess." He bowed again and left the directress' office.
* * *
The use of tranquilizing drugs as well as a most meticulous "packing" by the agents of "Rio 9" enabled Caroline Marshall to arrive at Ben-Abar and to be delivered to The Countess as "fresh" as when she had been captured in England. Still under the influence of drugs, the young girl now found herself at the end of the cycle, in the office of The Countess who was about to subject her to what this mysterious noblewoman called "the preliminary interview."
Caroline was seated in a tall, heavy oak armchair facing The Countess' desk. Leather straps firmly bound her wrists to the arm of the chair, while other thongs immobilized her ankles to the two front legs. She was simply dressed, but her attire obviously bore the cut of a famous dressmaker and was extremely expensive. A pale blue silk blouse buttoned low on the throat, with two real pearls at each sleeve; a white suede belt, long straight skirt of fine white linen, and pumps of suede to match gloves and belt, as well as her purse posed near her chair. A pair of very sheer flesh-hued nylons completed a most elegant attire.
The Countess rose and went to a little table on which there reposed a case containing a hypodermic syringe, whose needle she plunged into a little flask before returning to the girl who remained in a lethargic stupor. Expertly, she applied the needle into the base of Caroline's neck before returning to her seat from which she observed the victim's reactions. After a moment, Caroline's eyes began to blink like those of a slowly awakening sleeper.
Instantly, The Countess turned on a wire recorder whose earphones were firmly clamped about Caroline's head. This technique, developed by an agent of "Rio 9," was allied with the potent drug just administered; in the girl's half-conscious state, she would hear a carefully prepared, hypnotic explanation of how she was to comport herself. This was intended to prevent her trying to escape during the worst moments of her training or, what would be far worse, seeking to commit suicide to escape the suffering she would be called upon to endure. After ten minutes of this essential preparation, The Countess turned off the apparatus and readied herself, with a voluptuous shiver, for her first contact with her new pupil.
Caroline's eyelids fluttered open. "W-where am I?" her voice was weak, uncertain. "H-have I had an accident? Am-am I-in-in a h-hospital?"
Her widened eyes fixed, uncomprehendingly, on her wrists bound to the arms of the chair.
"You are in the fortress of Ben-Abar," The Countess coldly announced, "you have been brought here by an organization which specialized in the abduction of young girls." She preferred direct and brutal truth, the more so since she had nothing to fear of any eventual indiscretion.
Caroline tugged against the leather thongs with an air of annoyance, and impatiently exclaimed: "What's this story? What's this idiotic game?"
And her brows knitted, anger beginning to redden her lovely, haughty face: "I don't like this at all! Let me think-the-the last thing I remember-" Then her voice died away. She fixed The Countess with an uncertain look: "Who are you?"
"I am known as The Countess," was the curt reply. "But you, from this moment forth, are to address me as 'Mistress.'"
Caroline began to laugh. "Mistress, is it? Are you crazy, my good woman? Come now, untie me at once and stop saying imbecilities and trying to carry on this ridiculous game!"
"The report I have received concerning you is that you are an arrogant creature," The Countess coldly riposted. "I quite agree with that judgment! However, we know how to cure such a defect here!"
"How dare you take such a tone with me, you filthy woman? Untie me at once! I order you to untie me! Otherwise, I'll make you pay dearly for it! I don't mind a prank or two, but you go beyond the limit of my patience now!"
A mocking smile appeared on the face of The Countess, which only augmented Caroline's anger: "I told you that this wasn't a game. You've been carried off, kidnapped, if you prefer. More than that, you've been bought by one of our clients."
"Bought???" Caroline almost shrieked out the word, overwhelmed by a furious indignation which could not be suppressed.
"Yes, bought," The Countess smilingly continued, "and at quite a high price, I can assure you. Now you'll remain here at Ben-Abar to be trained to obey and to satisfy the tastes of your future master."
Caroline's lovely face was red with anger; when she tried to speak, the words nearly strangled her. "You-you-you must be crazy!" she cried. "Let me go this instant! How dare you permit yourself such words to me? Do you know who I am? Do you know?"
Calmly, The Countess retorted, "Naturally I know, since you were selected and I was given a complete report upon your entire background."
"Let me go! Untie me!" Caroline shrieked, mad with anger, writhing vainly in her imprisoning armchair. The Countess patiently waited till the crisis of rage began to ebb a little. Then she began to speak-calmly, firmly ignoring the indignant interruptions of the lovely captive. She explained in lengthy detail what she proposed to inflict upon Caroline, what educational processes would be administered; and in her discourse, The Countess savored with a secret delectation the expressions of rage, hate and fear which, one by one, contorted that enchantingly lovely face before her.
She concluded: "I am sure that with the nature you have, we shall be obliged to administer to you a first foretaste of the discipline you may expect henceforth, and this before this evening. Yes, I feel it will be an excellent aperitif, so to speak, which will convince you of the truth of all that I have just explained to you."
Suddenly, the fury which till then had sustained Caroline's courageous defiance seemed to abandon her. She sagged in the chair and began to weep softly. "Oh-oh, my God ... it's h-horrible, wh-what you've told me ... it-it's disgusting ... oh oooh! I-I don't know ... who ... who you are ... but ... but I can pay you ... if you let me go ... I beg of you ... Ohh-how can you treat me so and ... and tell me such ... such frightful things? You, aw ... woman like m ... myself!"
The Countess did not answer. She contented herself with rising and picking up another syringe, already prepared. Seeing it, fear dilated Caroline's lovely tear blurred eyes. "W-what are-are y-you g-going to-to do?" she stammered.
"I'm going to give you a little injection, to keep you wide awake and quite alert. Indeed, the drug in this hypodermic has a special restorativeingredient which will keep you from fainting, a reaction which would risk interrupting too quickly the educational seance to which you will now be subjected."
Caroline, immobilized, unable to defend herself, began to shriek the moment the needle pricked her flesh: "Monster-you're a monster-stop-oh God, stop, I tell you!"
Calmly paying the victim not the slightest heed, The Countess administered the injection, then returned to her chair behind the desk, and pressed a button on the intercom. "I've just called my assistant," she ironically explained. "His name is Jason Vanwell. Since you are a bit headstrong by nature, I felt it best to summon him directly, since he's a specialist in the art of mastering rebellious pupils, as you'll see."
Caroline's eyes stared at the woman in black with fixed horror. "A-a man!" her voice was choking.
The Countess nodded sardonically.
Caroline's mouth opened, but no sound emerged. This time she was stricken to silence out of apprehension. And she suddenly began to tremble. For the first time, she could clearly perceive the horrible situation in which she found herself, and terror began to dominate her usually so haughty, intrepid spirit....
CHAPTER SIX
Personal Narrative of Jason Vanwell
The moment I entered the office of The Countess, my eyes fixed on the "newcomer" and I saw that Caroline Martin was even more beautiful and desirable than I had hoped. She was without a doubt a girl of great beauty with distinguished social background, all of which was visible at first glimpse. Delicious! Delicious! I hoped she'd provide me with much pleasure. I adore training young ladies!
"You rang, Madame?" I asked as I bowed before The Countess.
"Yes, Jason. Here's Caroline, your new pupil."
I turned to Caroline, who indignantly stammered: "You-you-whoever you are ... perhaps you'll stop this ridiculous nonsense. If-if-you have the slightest decency-you-you can't allow a-a woman to--to be treated this way before you! I-I think she must be insane ... oh, the horrible things she told me!"
I knew what to do on such occasions. I approached Caroline and without warning, I gave her a violent slap. "Silence, little wretch!" I snapped at her.
"Ohh! Ohh-you-you-you filthy brute!" she spat.
"This young lady needs to be taught good manners, it seems to me," I said as I turned towards The Countess.
"I-I'll kill you for that! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!" Caroline was visibly beside herself, overcome by a paroxysm of fury at my unexpected gesture.
I slapped her again, harshly, first her right cheek, then the left, with a deft back-of-the hand blow. "I said, be quiet!" I scolded; as if shocked by those repeated slaps, she sank back in her chair and began to sob. Her cheeks bore the scarlet imprint of my hand.
"That's the best way to inculcate a feeling for good manners," The Countess said in a satisfied tone.
I nodded. "Have you given her a preview of what awaits her, Madame?" I asked.
"Yes, my dear Jason, but I fear that she didn't entirely believe me."
"I shall take charge of convincing her very rapidly," I smilingly declared, and, turning back to the young girl, I glided my hand to the bodice of her silk blouse. "If we might see what's underneath," I slyly suggested.
Caroline writhed in her chair, her gaze murderous. "Don't touch me! You filthy creature, don't touch me, or you'll pay dearly!" Her cultivated voice was low, shuddering with anger. Suddenly she took me by surprise; she bent her head and bit my finger, intending to hurt me as badly as she could, but she only succeeded in scratching the skin before I swiftly withdrew my hand. "Pig! Pig! I forbid you to touch me!" she cried.
I plunged my hand into her hair and jerked her head forward. Her hair was soft and thick under my fingers, and when I leaned toward her terror-stricken face, her exciting smell deliciously titillated my nostrils. "I'll make you pay for that a little later, young lady," I said, "and when I've finished with you, I don't think you'll want to bite anybody again. But for the moment, I'm going to adrninister a temporary remedy that will calm you."
She panted savagely like a beautiful animal caught in a trap, and her superb breasts lifted the silken bodice of her blouse with the rhythm of breathing that was cadenced by anger and fear. I was happy she was so rebellious, for the pleasure of training her would be only the more intense.
Naturally, at Ben-Abar I could do exactly what I wanted with her, and I was certainly not going to deprive myself of that right, for she excited me enormously. Moreover, our last pupil, Jane Rayner, had already been delivered to her new owner some time ago, and after that enforced abstinence I found msyelf in a full period of furious rut. Now, as you will see later on, I am extremely well equipped sexually, and because of my powerful sexuality my erotic instincts are mainly transformed into sadism. But it is a calculated and controlled sadism which permits me to enjoy deliciously those pupils delivered up to my good care.
I passed my hand behind the back of the armchair, and unhooked a little steel bar fixed to a ringbolt. The bar was like a horse's bit, about 8 inches long with two thin little chains at each end. I fixed one of these little chains to a hook into the wood of the chair, on one side of Caroline's head.
"What-what-what are you going-to-to do to me? No, stop! Oh, you must stop! You-you haven't the right-noooooo!" she began to cry.
I chuckled, "Certainly, I'm going to stop, but till then kindly open your mouth."
"No! I don't want to! I don't want to!" And she turned her head to the other side, compressing her lips as tightly as she could.
Without hesitating, I took hold of one of her breasts and, taking the nipple between thumb and index finger, I pinched it savagely. As she opened her mouth to utter a cry of suffering, I rapidly pushed home the steel bar, and before she could budge, I had already hooked the chain to the second ring-bolt.
She was snared! Immobilized, head rigid, pressed against the back of the wooden chain, the steel bar biting deeply into the stretched corners of her tender mouth. She emitted a sobbing cry, and although it was evidently very difficult for her to speak clearly, she begged: "N-no! Ahhhh! N-no-it h-hurts! No, oh, oooh!" and she tried to move her head, writhing against the leather thongs that pinned her to the chair. All this was naturally in vain, and with delight I saw terror replace rage in her beautiful large eyes, eyes that fixed on me with incredulous horror when my hand seized the opening of her silken bodice. With a violent gesture, I ripped the fine blouse, making the buttons pop out and tearing the material. Her magnificent breasts, slightly conical and hard as those of a young girl literally jumped out into my hands, scarcely veiled by a delicious brassiere of white lace made more to decorate than to uplift, and through that dainty lace the soft rosy points of her nipples were exquisitely visible.
"Very well done," The Countess remarked. "It's easy to understand why she was bought at so high a price."
I placed my hands on those soft warm globes and began to caress them with great pleasure, thrilling to be thus able to profane that superb young girl whose tears were running down her cheeks and whose mouth, distended by the cruel steel bar, grimaced in a sort of forced rictus that suggested the very opposite of what she must be feeling: laughter.
At the contact of my fingers, she began to writhe and twist again, uttering shrill cries: "No! Oh, don't touch me!" she managed to articulate, "Filthy swine-beast-take your hands away from me!"
I took away my hands, ah yes, but to slap her breasts violently, making her scream with pain and fear. I slapped her superb titties a good dozen times, and under my slaps they jiggled out of the brassiere, appearing in all their naked loveliness, splotched by red marks that testified where my slaps had fallen. Caroline shrieked with terror and tears of intolerable suffering poured down her face, immobilized by that steel bit.
"She's a stubborn one, this one," I grimaced as I turned to the mistress of Ben-Abar.
"Yes, I think she'll give us a great deal of trouble in straightening her out," The Countess observed, having witnessed all this from her chair. And she added casually, as she rose behind her desk, "We're going to see if the whip is capable of calming her a little."
Those words, whose outcome I knew so well, made me shudder with anticipatory pleasure, and I stared at Caroline, smiling with expectancy. Despite the cruel bite of the little steel bar which served as gag, the young girl had managed to move her head slightly to the right, then to the left. Slumped in the chair, naked to the waist with the remnants of her tattered blouse dangling on each side of her, her lovely breasts reddened from the slips I had just bestowed, she cried and groaned, her eyes closed.
Those tears mingled with the saliva that oozed from the corners of her mouth which the disciplinary bar so compulsively stretched....
CHAPTER SEVEN
Personal Narrative of Caroline Marshall
I was struggling in a horrible nightmare. That was what it was; it could only be that! I was going to wake up ... yes, soon I'd awaken bathed in sweat in my own bed, overwhelmed by this hideous, ignoble dream.
But-but the bite of that horrible bar which cut my mouth! Those bonds which fixed me to the armchair ... that woman in black who frightened me ... and then ... that-that horrible man with his vicious smile which terrified me just to see it!
I wasn't dreaming. All this was real. Oh, my God! Into what had I fallen? What was going to become of me?
Oh, these scurrilous people ... to do such a thing to me, Caroline Martin! Oh, they'll pay for this, they'll pay dearly! I'll do everything in my power to have them condemned to death, especially that man. To have dared put his hand on me ... to have dared to beat me ... oh, oh, my poor breasts!
I'll kill him; oh, I swear I'll kill him!
I believe if he touches me again, I'll die. Yes, I'd prefer to die.
And that woman-all the horrible things she's just told me, as if in this day such things were possible!
If it weren't so frightful, it would have been laughable....
* * *
The Countess was speaking again and what she was saying made me shudder with fear. "You're going to be untied, Caroline. Then I'm going to give you my first order. It will be to undress yourself ... to make yourself completely naked. If you don't obey, you'll be punished! Is that sufficiently clear?"
She must be mad! Completely naked-as if I'd do such a thing! How could she think of such an insane thing? Punished-you'll be punished, she said. As if I were a schoolgirl in the time of Queen Victoria. My word, she must be insane!
"And here is what you'll be punished with, if you don't obey my orders," she continued, opening a drawer of her desk and taking out a riding crop. Or rather, a switch. A yellow wicker switch with a handle sheathed in leather. Suddenly I felt afraid. "If you refuse to obey, I shall whip you with this, and on your bare behind, young lady!" she told me.
Rage impaired my speech, driving away my momentary fear. How could one say such disgusting things to me? And in front of a man-oh, those ignoble brutes!
"Untie her."
Jason approached and I felt his hands unhooking the chain and removing the frightful bar from my mouth, then untying the leather thongs which kept me prisoner. Suddenly I was free ... I sprang from my chair, jostling him as he leaned over it, and rushed toward the door. Alas, in vain I turned the knob, again and again. These monsters had foreseen my reaction and had carefully locked the door. In my desperate rage, I hammered with my fists and kicked the door with my feet, shrieking, "Brutes! Devils! Let me go! Let me go! Open the door, I want to leave, I want to leave!"
Suddenly conscious of the inanity of my angry efforts, I burst into tears and sank down to my knees, instinctively pulling my torn blouse over my naked bosom.
"After that little exhibition," The Countess was speaking as calmly as if nothing had happened, "I order you to strip naked, Caroline. Undress!"
"No, no," I sobbed, "what do you want of me? Money-no matter how much ... yes, I'll get it for you ... but stop this, I beg of you!"
"Undress!" Her cold voice was wickedly sharp. Oh, my God, how could all this be possible? I begged her again to let me go.
I heard her say, "Go get her, Jason. We'll see if a whipping can better persuade her than my words."
I felt myself seized in Jason's arms and lifted from the floor as if I weighed no more than a child. God, how strong that man was and how he clutched me, hard enough to make me faint! "No," I cried, "Stop! Oh, stop! You haven't any right to do all this, you can't! Stop! Stop!!"
I struggled uselessly, crying like a child, then. He was able to carry me without the least heed of my resistance.
"Carry her there to my desk, Jason!" said The Countess.
"N-no!"
But despite my protests, he forcibly laid me face down over that dark wooden desk. The Countess seized my wrists and I felt two metal rings lock against them and immobilize me as I had been in the chair. Panic flooded me.
"All right, all right!" I heard myself cry out," you've won! Yes-I-I'll pay-tell me what you want and you shall have it. I've lots of money ... tell me what you want!"
"I wanted you to strip naked before us," the Countess responded, "but you didn't want to obey, and so you shall be punished."
Then for the first time I at last comprehended that all this was all too true. These people didn't want money. A savage terror took hold of me and I fought wildly to free myself, panting with fear, but I was powerless.
"Lift her skirt and hoist it to her waist, Jason!" was the next command.
I shrieked: "No! No-oooooh! No, not that! Not that ... you have no right-oh, no!"
But oh, the horrible moment when I felt Jason taking my skirt by the hems and lifting it back over my waist. Though it was a tight skirt, he trussed it up in a few seconds, leaving me half dead with shame at the thought that he could now see my behind hardly concealed by my little white panties.
"Lower her panties, if you please, Jason," the frightful Countess calmly ordered.
"No! No, I-I beg of you, oooooh, no, not my panties! No, not that, not that!"
I shrieked in vain, alas. Oh, how unfortunate I was-at that moment. I would have given every penny I owned-I would have done anything in the world if only they'd spared me such an abomination. But there was nothing I could do or say, except to struggle in vain and sob with shame thinking that Jason's eyes were fixed on me. I felt, with a horror impossible to describe, his hands slip under the elastic waistband of my panties ... slowly ... oh, how horribly slowly, he drew them down ... down ... till they fell about my knees.
Now I felt myself naked and exposed to their gaze from the waist down. Only a woman can understand the abysmal humiliation in which I was plunged at that moment.
"Count-Countess, I-I supplicate you-how can you act thus ... to another woman. It's inhuman ... I beg of you, I implore you ... stop this ... tell me what you want ... but for the love of God, spare me!"
I pleaded with all my soul now, for rage had abandoned me, and only fear remained, a fear that clawed me with panting anguish.
"I told you what I wanted! You refused to obey! And now you're going to learn what it costs to disobey, which will do you the greatest good, my dear Caroline. Yes, a good whipping will be salutary for you and aid you to understand better your situation here," the Countess coldly explained, without the slightest concern for my tears and prayers.
Oh, I wish I could have died!
* * *
There was a long silence broken only by my groans, but I felt them behind me staring at my naked behind. I trembled uncontrollably.
The silence grew intolerable. What was happening?
Suddenly, I heard a strange whistling sound ... and with terrifying force the switch fell right across both my naked buttocks.
It cut my breath short. I had anticipated that it would be severe, that it would hurt me, yes, of course-but never, never as horribly as this!
As I said, the pain was so frightful that it cut my breath short, but when I could under the atrocious torment without remembering what I must be showing to those two demons who were standing behind me....
Even before the pain which had made me sob and cried out had diminished the least bit, I heard again that same hideous, brief whistling sound, and again the wicker switch flailed the tender flesh of my bare behind.
An incredible agony slashed my bottom as if it were a white-hot flame.
"Aie! Aie! No! No!"
Convulsed with agony, I writhed still more frenziedly across the desk, driven wild in my frantic desire to escape the next stroke of the switch-and quite in vain! For while I shrieked and wept hot tears, the terrible whip fell for the third time.
"Ah! Yyyaiee! Oh, enough! Enough! Stop! Aie!" At that moment, I would have given my very life to escape another stroke, but to no avail. It fell once more, striping my naked buttocks with as venomous a kiss as the three previous lashes, tearing clamorous shrieks of agony from my panting mouth.
Words are powerless to describe what suffering I knew from that first whipping at Ben-Abar ... the violent bites and the vigorous fall of the switch sent my very heart rushing to my trembling lips in an explosion of suffering which made me writhe in the most feverish, abandoned manner over the Countess' desk. I heard myself shriek, implore, promise everything ... everything they wished. And of course, without effect!
The fifth cut of the switch belabored my bottom with as much violence as the preceding four, plunged me deeper into an abyss of horrible suffering. Choked by tears and sobs, I no longer thought of my shameful nudity, forgot my initial rage and hatred against my tormentors; yes, forgot even my modesty. The only thing of which I was conscious was the mad burning of my naked buttocks! And my only desire, no matter what else might happen to me, was to have them stop whipping my behind!
CHAPTER EIGHT
General Narrative
After the fifth stroke of the switch, the Countess stopped, observing with an expression of savoring pleasure the frantic wrigglings and agonized contortions of poor Caroline Martin stretched out across her desk. She glanced at Jason, who stood motionless, a cruel smile curving his sensual lips, his eyes fixed on their victim's naked buttocks.
Both the Countess and Jason were fully aware of the pleasure which the other derived, since they had teamed together too often to dissimulate their feelings. This Caroline was a true beauty, a choice morsel as much from the physical viewpoint as from that of patrician temperament. She was endowed with an extremely proud character, but she was equally sensitive to pain, as she had just shown them. This constituted an ideal combination which would provide limitless pleasure for both of them, and the Countess contemplated with cruel joy the five thin weals which marred the satiny skin of the lovely white buttocks.
Caroline, sobbing, continued to writhe, though less frenziedly, her buttocks convulsively tightening as they sought to dissipate the ferocious suffering that choked her with groans and tears like a child overcome by intense sorrow.
"Now, I hope you've finally realized that we aren't playing games, Miss," the Countess declared. "Do you want some more? You know, there's practically no limit to what I can give you."
"N-no ... oh, no!" Caroline sobbed.
"Are you going to obey? Do you consent to remove your clothes and show yourself completely naked?"
There was no reply, only a flurry of sobs.
"Do you want to receive the switch again, Caroline?"
Those two excitingly contoured hillocks, so piteously striped by red lines, fearfully contracted as Jason, staring at them greedily, continued to smile. "Oh, no, no!"
"Very well. Release her, Jason."
Jason now took charge. First, he pulled up Caroline's dainty little panties, but not without profiting by outrageously stroking the lovely shuddering behind; then he lowered the victim's skirt, and finally, moving to the other side of the desk, he pressed open the metal rings which retained the young girl's wrists.
"Stand up!" the Countess ordered.
Groaning, Caroline painfully lowered herself from that altar of martyrdom and managed to stand, though she swayed with weakness and suffering. "If-if you please ... if you please ... let me go," she implored, "I-I'll pay you-anything you ask!"
"You can pay be being nice," Jason interposed, "money doesn't interest us at all."
"T-then wh-what do you want?" Caroline stammered.
"Undress. As we've already told you, we want you naked!"
"But ... b-but ... not that ... n ... not like that ... I ... I couldn't ... oh, no, I-I couldn't...."
The wicker switch whistled viciously in the air, and the Countess remarked: "The next time, you'll receive a really sound thrashing, Caroline!"
"Oh, no, no! Oh, I couldn't bear it!"
The Countess began to laugh. "You're joking, my dear child! Five little taps of a switch. Why, that's nothing! You'll learn to endure much worse ... yes, much worse, I tell you. And now, enough of these comedies. Undress, or else, the worse for your behind!"
Caroline hesitated, biting her lips. Then, bursting into heartrending tears, she began to undress before her two torturers. But soon she stopped and stood there, her cheeks flooded with tears; then she buried her face in her hands and refused to go on. She was supremely provocative in her brassiere, the little panties, a garterbelt holding up her sheer stockings, and high-healed pumps.
"Hurry and take off the rest, don't make me lose patience with you," the Countess scolded, flicking the air with her switch.
"I-I can't ... oh, I-I-c-can't! Oh-h-how can you demand this-oh, no! No!" And then overcome by fear, she again lost control of herself and ran to the door, which she frantically tried to open, sobbing and crying out as she beat her little fists so futilely against it.
Jason began to laugh. How beautiful she was; how excited she made him! Indeed, no other girl who had come to Ben-Abar had so roused him from the very start.
"Very well," the Countess calmly decreed. "I warned you, and you really asked for it, didn't you? You shall receive this time a really good whipping!"
Caroline uttered a cry of terror; maddened, she began to run around the office, like a wild animal pursued by a pack of hounds.
"Bring her to me, Jason!"
Jason had an expert skill in this kind of affair, and in a few moments, despite her frantic kicks and her attempted blows with clenched little fists, Caroline felt herself seized and lifted off the floor by his powerful arms. With the end of her switch, the Countess designated a kind of trestle of heavy wood covered with thick black leather. "Tie her to it and strip her naked," she ordered.
This was the kind of order on which Jason doted. With a few violent gestures, he ripped away the victim's brassieres, panties and garterbelt, leaving her only her stockings and pumps. Then he laid her on the summit of the trestle, and hastened to bind her wrists to the front legs of the apparatus with supple leather thongs.
The unfortunate young girl no longer struggled, seeming to accept her fate passively, as nervous sobs shook her lovely naked breasts flattened against the black leather surface of this new altar of her oncoming martyrdom. When her arms had been immobilized, Jason swiftly bound her legs to the rear base of the trestle; since this was rather short, he forced the victim to bend her knees, which promptly yawned open her thighs, immodestly revealing her exquisite vulva which proffered itself just beyond her slightly distended naked buttocks.
Those rosy lips fringed by a lovely fawn-colored fleece of pubic curls proffered themselves like a plump pouting mouth. And Jason, more and more roused by his contact with her warm, fragrant nakedness, could not resist the impulse of posing his lips on that gaping pussy, which redoubled the tears and protests of the unfortunate Caroline.
The Countess remarked with a mocking smile: "Come, Jason, you've plenty of time for that. Strap a belt round her waist and put a cushion under her belly, so her bottom will be in good position for the whipping!"
Jason brought a kind of thick round leather cushion, which somewhat resembled a section of telephone pole which had been sawed off to a thickness of about twelve inches. He slipped it forcibly between the summit of the trestle and Caroline's belly, which had the effect of arching up and projecting her naked bottom in the most obscene display conceivable.
Then he passed a wide leather belt round her waist, buckling it tightly under the trestle, which further accentuated the arch of her lovely white back and forced her to jut up her buttocks still more lasciviously in the air.
"Lovely little ass," he lewdly remarked as he slid his hand insinuatingly along the groove between Caroline's bare buttocks; the victim resumed denouncing his bestiality and crying out that she would pay anything in the world if only they would stop this frightful game.
The Countess uttered a brief, mocking laugh. "You're really hard to convince, Miss Martin! I've already told you several times that money is of no concern in this affair. You are here to endure a special training, training to satisfy the tastes of the master who has bought you!"
Caroline's heart seemed to break. Her eyes widened in exorbitant despair. The feeble last hope she had retained till then abandoned her, and a wave of terror tore from her lips a despairing plaint: "Oh, surely what you say can't be true?" she implored in a sobbing voice.
"All that I've told you is true, as you will soon see for yourself. For the moment, since you've disobeyed, you're going to be whipped-severely whipped."
"No! Oh, no! No more ... oh no more!"
"Yes! Again-and soundly!"
At those last words, the Countess took her place behind the trestle, in the pose of a flagellant, legs straddled, measuring the distance with her wicker switch, thick as a finger; then, raising her arm, with a vicious but controlled fury, she brought down the flexible withe full across the defenceless naked behind of the unfortunate Caroline.
* * *
The Countess employed three customary methods in applying a whipping: rapid, calm or slow. On this occasion, she employed all three.
The first five cuts of the switch were applied rapidly, with hardly two or three seconds between each sweep of the flexible withe. These rapid lashes at once produced a cacophony of cries and shrieks from Caroline. At the first blow which streaked her naked bottom, her head convulsively rose, her neck stretched so tightly that the tendons seemed to burst through the fine white skin; her eyes mad, her mouth yawning, she began to shriek in suffering, like a kind of animal baying at the moon.
She was so tightly bound to the trestle that she could not move her bottom; but under the frightful pain which burned her flesh, her buttocks began to open and close spasmodically as if trying to diminish the torment. His eyes shining with lustful joy, Jason watched the dance of that delectable naked posterior.
Under the compulsion of that pain, Caroline's vulva contracted, as a girl's mouth might make a moue. Jason, observing that obscene and uncontrollable reaction, felt his penis surge to full erection.
After the fifth stroke, the Countess slackened the rhythm. Now the cuts of the switch, though dealt out with all the force of her supple arm and wrist, were spaced about twenty seconds apart, which gave the victim more time to experience all the violent shock and burning agony each lash conveyed.
After the tenth stroke, the Countess paused. When she resumed, it was to adopt the slow rhythm of fustigation.
"Do you feel yourself more disposed to obey now?" she demanded in a slightly panting voice.
Choking with shrill cries and sobs, poor Caroline was incapable of giving an intelligible answer. The wicker switch whistled furiously as it bit across the two lividly streaked nether hemispheres of the captive.
"Are you going to obey now?"
"Aie! Aie! y-yessssss-ooohhhh-y-yes!" And this time, it was really the truth, a cry torn from Caroline's heart itself.
"Say it, then; say it: CI promise to obey.'" And another ferocious lash made Caroline's naked buttocks fairly jump.
"I-p-promise to-to ob-obey-oooooh! Stoppppp!!!"
The switch whistled once more, evilly kissing the lovely naked behind which bounded under its imperious torment.
With a sadistic grimace, the Countess raised the switch and with all her might cut it across the plumpest summits of the convulsing hemispheres.
"Again! Say it again!"
"I-I-I pr-pro-promise to-to ob-obey-oooohhhh!"
The supple arm rose again, and the wicker withe buried into Caroline's tortured naked flesh, wresting strident shrieks from the frenzied young victim.
"Once again, you little wretch," the Countess rasped as she furiously cut the switch across the cruelly streaked and swollen nether globes of her powerless victim. At last she stepped back, her lips curving with a perverse smile, and flung herself down into a thickly upholstered armchair after having flung the switch onto her desk. "Ouf! That made me warm," she casually remarked. "Now we'll see if this method bears results. But this work has made me thirsty. My dear Jason, ring for some champagne. Then you'll release our young pupil, for she too must drink to toast her welcome to Ben-Abar."
CHAPTER NINE
Personal Narrative of Jason Vanwell
After the whipping administered to Caroline by The Countess, I had to make the girl breathe smelling salts and even give her a hypodermic injection, so shaken had she been by this her very first punishment.
As soon as I had thus managed to comfort her a little, she began to complain that it hurt her a great deal. And it is true that the livid weals which striped her beautiful round bottomcheeks hardly improved her well-being! All of them suffer a great deal the first time, which of course isn't at all surprising. Later on, helped by training, what they manage to endure is almost incredible ... particularly if, like Caroline, they have firm, haughty natures.
Obeying the order of The Countess, I unfastened the girl, then helped her slide down from the trestle, while I caressed her titties and slid my hand between her thighs to feel her cunt, which made her vehemently protest. She struggled and repulsed me violently, grinding her teeth in anger like a beautiful tigress ready to attack. Very good. Very good indeed! I love to handle these girls with highstrung temperament and indomitable character.
"Stand up!" The Countess' voice brought us both back to reality. And Caroline straightened with a great deal of awkward, painful hesitation, remaining half stoopedover, groaning, her arms modestly crossed over her bosom. This was indeed an understandable reaction. After all, twenty strokes from the switch dealt out by the hand of The Countess hardly constitutes a laughing matter! Especially if they're the first strokes you've ever tasted.
The Countess nervously tapped her gloved fingers against the arm of her chair. It would hardly pay Caroline to abuse her patience. And the beautiful little Miss realized that for herself, so she straightened up completely, sniffling all the while.
"Now, Caroline, we're going to see if the lesson you've just had has made you reflect on what conduct is essential here. Hold yourself straight and erect ... there ... your shoulders back! Cross your hands behind your head! Come now!"
The Countess rose; going to her desk, she retrieved the switch she had just placed there, and brought it down on the top of the oak desk with an angry whack. Caroline made a bound of terror hearing that cruel sound, and, her cheeks red with shame, hurried to put her hands behind her head as ordered. In that pose, her young titties, marvelously formed, pointed out as aggressively as those of a marble statue.
"Now, spread your legs!"
"Oh! Oooh! P-please, n-not that!"
The Countess lashed the leather top of the trestle, with a still more sinister whistling than smacking sound. "Do you wish to feel this again on your behind?"
"Oooooooh! N-no!" Caroline held out her hands in a gesture of pitiful supplication.
"Then obey! Do what I tell you immediately. I warn you that I shan't tell you twice. The next time, you'll find yourself again with your bottom in the air over the trestle!" The Countess was truly a expert in this kind of discussion, dosing her words with just the most potent kind of threats to impress the pupil.
Caroline, hands tightly clasped behind her head, slightly spread her legs.
"Again! Spread them better than that!"
With a heavy sob, the young girl widely opened her legs.
The switch again delivered its menacing whistle. "I said, spread them better than that!" The Countess harshly exclaimed.
The long, lovely legs spread still more, till the muscles began to surge under the soft satiny skin of the thighs. Tears of shame and humiliation rolled down Caroline's soft cheeks, falling onto her titties, which shook with her convulsive sobs.
The Countess turned to me: "Now suppose we drink that champagne, my dear Jason!"
"With pleasure, Madame," I said with a satisfied smile.
* * *
Seated in a leather armchair near The Countess, my eyes never took themselves off Caroline. I knew from experience all the reactions that could be expected from this young beauty. For the moment, the severe punishment just inflicted on her had severely crushed her spirit by making her taste a degree of suffering which till then she had never even imagined. Yet despite her fear, her proud, indomitable nature would surely push her to new resistance. And I already felt certain I should have a very great deal of pleasure from Caroline.
"Good. You may now stand normally," The Countess, since we had just finished the bottle of champagne, pronounced these indulgent words.
Caroline started as if she had just awakened; but it was quite doubtful that the poor little darling could have forgotten the hot suffering which those stripes ornamenting her lovely backside caused her. She moved to a nominal standing pose, slowly, all the while groaning in a pitiful fashion. Her tender flesh had been cruelly lacerated by the foregoing switching and each movement she made must have been atrociously painful for her. Instinctively, she covered her lovely titties with one arm and with her other open hand tried to conceal the curly tufts of her cunthole.
"Enough of that sort of childishness!" The Countess cried in a cross tone. "You must show your breasts, your sex and your behind when you are ordered to do so. Take those hands away at once, or you'll taste the switch again!"
With a little sob, Caroline let her arms fall. I saw the cheeks of our new pupil slowly redden, as much as from the anger which was beginning to be reborn within her-just as I had delightedly suspected, I may add!
"And now, make yourself a little useful," the Countess continued. "Open this second bottle of champagne which you see cooling in the ice-bucket there. Come on, hurry," she added in a scolding tone, pointing her switch at the ice-bucket.
Caroline clumsily opened the bottle and the cork noisily popped out; I felt she was less accustomed to serving than being served.
"Take a glass!"
The girl's finely manicured fingers trembled as they set bottle and glasses down before us.
"Fill the glasses. And now, let us all lift our glasses and drink a toast to our new pupil. Let's wish her a happy to stay at Ben-Abar. I drink to your future progress, Caroline!" The Countess exclaimed with a cynical smile.
We waited, watching her closely. Caroline's lips had begun to tremble uncontrollably. Tears again began to run down her cheeks. At last she lifted her glass: "Toto-my-my f-future-p-progress," she managed in a faint voice.
Alas, though we made her drink several glasses, it didn't seem to procure the joy champagne usually does for people. The Countess finally glanced at her watch, and I felt a shiver of delight run through me. "Very good, Jason," she said. "I think the time has come for you to take charge of this young girl and to chain her up for the night"
At these words, Caroline's eyes dilated with fright. I rose and went to the desk, from the drawer of which I took a kind of steel collar, covered in velvet, to which was riveted a chain about six feet long. Caroline recoiled when she saw me advancing towards her. "Wh-what are you g-going to do?" she stammered, the champagne goblet trembling nervously in her hand.
"Lead you to your cell," I replied.
"C-cell?"
"Your cell, yes," I replied, and, swiftly advancing, I seized her. Oh how pleasurable it is for me to hold a naked woman, shuddering with fear! She began to struggle, of course, but I was used to such things; and in about twenty seconds, I had opened the collar and locked it round her lovely, supple white neck.
The Countess rose and nodded: "Go on, take her away, Jason. And follow the usual procedure. She is your pupil from now on."
"Very good, Madame. I'm at your orders."
I held the end of the light steel chain in my hands and gave it a little tug.
With a cry of fear, Caroline recoiled to the opposite side. "Ooooooh! No! You c-can't-you mustn't-l-leave me alone t-thus-with a m-man!" She turned in an imploring gesture towards The Countess, who did not budge and whose only words were, "Take her away, Jason!"
I opened the door and went on, pulling behind me a naked girl who clutched the chain with both hands, vehemently protesting the ignominy and shame of being thus led away, alone with a man....
* * *
Caroline tottered behind me on her high heels. She tried to slacken our march and to hold by clutching despairingly at anything she found along the passageway-the guardrail of the stairway, the stone pillar, the doorknobs, while we pursued our pathway through the corridors and stairways of the dungeon. Finally, when we came to the heavy iron door, I swung it wide open after drawing the bolts. "Here's the place you'll spend your first night, my beauty! Go on, enter!"
I shoved the door farther open with my foot and made Caroline cross the threshold of the cell by fetching her a good smack with my open hand on her naked bottom. She uttered a cry in which anger and pain were mingled, and turned toward me, her teeth clenched, just like a lovely tigress.
"How dare you? How can you do that to a woman? You-you dirty beast!"
Turning on me, she sprang end tried to claw me with her manicured nails, but I seized her by a wrist, twisted her round with a good shake and again smacked her naked backside. Violently, crisply, and this time, not just one, but two good smacks!
It was truly delicious to feel that satiny soft flesh, so temptingly rounded and still streaked by the kisses of the switch, bound under my palm. "Oooh! Oooh! Aaaa-aaaaaah!"
She was really beside herself, choking with indignation and rage, writhing in a fury that made her beautiful naked titties jiggle as she fought to escape my grasp. But I forced her to advance and at last made her enter the cell. "You're going to have to learn to hold your tongue, young lady," I said to her severely as I gave her another good hard smack on her bare behind.
The cell wasn't very large. Actually, it was a little room of medieval aspect which we'd turned into a kind of prison cell. In the middle, there rose a thick wooden pillar which held up the ceiling and on which were fixed, at different heights, metal hooks, ring-bolts and handcuffs dangling from short steel-chains. On the floor was a thick woolen rug. The bare stone walls served as supports for numerous apparatuses and articles intended for different kinds of penances. There were no windows, only an electric light bulb which cast into disquieting relief the sinister objects of furnishing.
Despite Caroline's furious struggles, I forcibly lifted her arms above her head and imprisoned her wrists in a pair of steel bracelets which hung from the end of a chain set into the ceiling. When this was done, she was almost suspended by her wrists, entirely reduced to helplessness, her head bowed, her body shuddering with sobs. "Oh! Ooooh! Help-oh, help me, someone, help me, please! Oh, you-you filthy animal, you monster! How can you do such things to ... toa ... y ... young girl?"
"I can do quite a number of other things," I replied, openly admiring her superb nakedness.
"Oooooooooh!"
"Thus, I can give you a spanking, if I wish-and when I wish! Like that!" And I applied two more hearty slaps on her naked backside, stepping quickly aside to avoid her frantic kick. Ah, my beautiful pupil had lost none of her aggressiveness; that pleased me greatly! And I resumed: "If you want to glance to that side, toward the wall, you'll be able to see a couple of instruments I can put to use, besides my hands, for caressing your bare bottom a little each time your naughty behavior earns such attention."
Caroline turned her head toward the side indicated and her eyes bulged when she saw what hung against the wall. The first article was a long switch quite like the Countess had so recently used. The other was made of a leather strap fixed to a short wooden handle. This strap was about a foot long and nearly two inches wide, made of rather thick leather, somewhat like a soldier's belt. These two implements were there for the use of the trainers in administering punishments during the first part of a new pupil's special training. Other far more biting switches, thicker straps, birch rods and whips would be employed as this special stage progressed.
"Nooooo! N-noooooo!" she began to cry out violently, "you-you-you haven't any right-it can't be true! Ooooooh! H-haven't you f-finished with me till then?"
I couldn't help laughing. "My dear young Miss, why, we've hardly even begun. You've still a great deal of time to learn all you must know to become a perfect slave."
She was panting, teeth grinding together, her large eyes full of desperate tears. I stretched out my hand and, taking one of her satiny, firm titties in my palm, began to squeeze and fondle it.
At once, she writhed to escape my touch; then, swiftly lowering her head, tried to bite me. "You see!" I laughed at her attempts, "you see how much you have to learn! For example, one thing is not to resist when I want to touch you."
"Ooooooh! You-you-mm-monster!" she shrieked.
I slid my hand down from her panting tittie along the gentle, shuddering curve of her belly, and then lower still, to the silky, curly tufts of her cunthole. Calmly, with my fingertips, I parted the hairs which hid the sweet vista of her slit, and I stroked the two plump, warm, soft lips.
Struggling like one demented from the end of the chain fixed at the ceiling, she tried to kick at me with all her might. And I had to abandon my caresses and leap to one side to avoid her furious onslaught. "What a stub born, ugly girl you are," I mockingly exclaimed, "So sensitive over such a little caress! It's high time you learned better self-control, my beauty!"
And, pinning one arm round her waist so as to prevent her escaping or kicking, I resumed spanking her bare bottom, while she twisted with rage and mounting indignation.
I gave her at the outset a good dozen solid, well applied smacks on both her already warm bottomcheeks; then I spaced the cadence so I could sermonize her at the same time.
"Tomorrow-"
Smack!
"If you don't pay more attention than this-Smaaack!
"It won't be my hand-" Smaaaack!
"You'll feel on your bottom-" Smaaaaack!
"But the leather strap-" Smaaaaack!
"And imagine what you'll feel then!" Smaaaack!
If you've ever had the pleasure of spanking a chained, naked young woman, you are more likely to appreciate what I felt at this moment. If not, I think your imagination will aid you to guess my pleasure.
After a new dozen smacks, I stopped the spanking. Caroline no longer struggled; only violent sobs now shook her beautiful naked body.
"Good, Caroline, there's no doubt that tomorrow your first lesson will cause you no little surprise. But now the moment is at hand to prepare you for the night." I went to a heavy chest bordered with iron, and lifted the top.
CHAPTER TEN
General Narrative
Jason Vanwell opened the chest placed near the wall and took out something which at first glance bore a slight resemblance to an attractive chrome metal parakeet cage. It was round and had a little door, just like an actual birdcage, the only difference being that there was no bottom. But that door was a strange anomaly. Soldered to the mobile wire lattice, a tiny steel bar of about an inch and a half in length pointed horizontally towards the interior of the cage, and its end fixed to a ball as large as an apricot, studded with tiny little metal points, not unlike a horse-chestnut.
This apparatus known at Ben-Abar as "The Silver Cage," served to punish and discourage all pupils who had ever tried to bite their trainer. Though she did not yet know the purpose of this singular device, Caroline's eyes widened with fear to see it in his hands. The sinister aspect of the object already sufficed to terrorize her.
"Caroline," he told her, "you've already twice tried to bite me this evening, and almost succeeded once. Moreover, you've done nothing to moderate your language. On many occasions, you've gone so far as to insult both The Countess and myself. To punish you for all this, I'm going to shut your head up in this lovely little cage."
And with these words, he lifted the device above the head of a Caroline petrified with fear. Holding the little door open, he next opened the cage itself into two sections. Then, despite her frantic attempts to move her head away from the instrument of torment, he placed the back-section of the cage behind her and, taking advantage of a favorable moment, swiftly closed the front part and carefully bolted it.
Caroline uttered a cry of horror in seeing herself thus imprisoned. Now, her fear-tautened face could be seen only through the steel latticework of the cage, its base forming an iron collar which was tightly closed round her white neck. Only the little door with its tiny bar and its ball strewn with spikes remained open, exposing her trembling red mouth.
"It's rather heavy and uncomfortable, isn't it?" he asked. "However, let me warn you that I shall subject you to things far more irksome than this if you don't quickly improve yourself or if you continue to show yourself recalcitrant." He paused to let these menacing words sink in, then imperturbably continued: "And now I'm going to close this little door. But for that, as you can see, you must open your mouth."
The round ball with its terrible little spikes bumped against Caroline's clenched teeth.
"Open your mouth!" he repeated sternly.
Through her pearly white teeth, locked by fear, there escaped a cry of refusal.
"So you again choose to disobey my order?" he remarked, letting go of the little door and stepping back a few paces.
"B-but-y-you're going to hurt me-you're going to injure me," Caroline cried.
"It's normal for the device to hurt you," he replied. "Only in that way will you learn to pay attention, it appears. Now, are you going to open your mouth?"
Again Caroline's teeth desperately clenched as she saw the steel ball approach.
"Very well!" was his calm reply. "You will simply taste the strap a little sooner than I'd thought."
He went to the bare stone wall and unhooked the wide leather thong. Seeing him brandish the instrument, Caroline began to leap about, trying to escape, crying out her terror.
He brought down the strap violently, and the leather cruelly bit into the soft tender buttocks of the naked captive. Thhhhhhkhwaaaaaacccccck!!!
An agonized shriek rent the air.
"I must teach you that disobedience doesn't pay with me," he growled.
And again, Thhhhhhhhhhhwaaaaaacccccck!!!......
"Yyaaaaiiiiiiiieeeeee! Aaaaaaahhh! Aahhh!!!
Caroline's behind bounded and writhed convulsively. The wave of burning suffering which ravaged her tender flesh at each ferocious attack of the strap was incredibly painful.
"I-I'll o-obey!" she. began to shriek. "Ohh, stop! Stopppppppp!!!
A smile of cruel satisfaction curved his lips. What a pleasure for a man like himself to have at his entire disposal a charming beautiful creature like this one and to be able to flog her with sweeping strokes of the thong!
Thhhhwaaaaaccccck!!!
"Aaaaaaggghh! Aaaaaggghh!!"
Locked in the steel cage, Caroline's head flung back each time she shrieked her torment to the cold stone walls. Methodically, ferociously, Jason applied five more strokes of the heavy leather thong across Caroline's bounding behind. The wide red welts left by the thong now hid the thinner stripes left by the switch. Caroline, hanging by her wrists at the end of her chain, was sobbing hysterically. Never, never had she thought such suffering possible.
Jason replaced the thong on its hook and returned to his victim, drowned in tears. "It hurts, doesn't it?" he sarcastically queried. "That's the punishment necessitated by your disobedience. I hope now, my dear Caroline, that you're going to open your mouth?"
Choked by tears and sobs, Caroline could not give a coherent answer. But, after a few seconds of uncertainty, her mouth at last opened wide.
"That's better," he pronounced with a little mocking laugh. "It's always a pleasure to see how a good thrashing with the strap works on the most rebellious natures."
The little door was closed. The steel ball fixed at the end of the tiny wand entered and disappeared in Caroline's mouth. Jason hastened to bolt the little door. Caroline let a stifled groan escape her, a groan that was transformed into a cry filled with despair and horror, at the same time trying to recoil or turn her head; alas, locked as she was in that steel cage, there was absolutely no chance for her to escape its torture.
The little steel spikes which studded the entire surface of the ball must have been atrociously agonizing to the tender mucous membrane of the palate and the tongue, despite the fact that poor Caroline forced herself desperately to yawn her mouth to the extreme.
"It's bad, isn't it, my pretty one?" he calmly remarked. "But the next time you have a notion to bite or say naughty words, you've only to think of this charming little cage, and I'm sure that will help you a great deal in keeping your control."
Caroline uttered a horrible groan, Such treatment was even beyond what she could have conjured up in her worst nightmares. She found herself entirely naked under the eyes of a man she had never seen before ... chained and unable to do anything to free herself ... her poor behind was now a shivering mass of weals and stripes which burned her flesh atrociously ... her head was locked in a sort of cage and a horrible ball studded with sharp little points was cruelly wounding her tender mouth.
She wanted to die-but, alas, the injection which had been given her did not permit her even the respite of a merciful fainting spell.
Jason observed with lascivious pleasure the torments of his charming victim. "Since you're new here," he announced in a magnanimous tone of voice, "I'll let you wear the cage only two and a half hours. However, I must warn you that if you repeat the same faults, you shall be locked up in it for five hours. And, if necessary, for ten! Do I make myself clearly understood?"
Naturally, Caroline was quite incapable of replying. Her heartbreaking groans continued to emerge from the cage, while tears inundated her lovely, terrified face.
Jason glanced at his watch. "I'll return at midnight and take off the cage," he told her. "Then it will only depend on you, Caroline, whether you receive a second dose of the strap tonight. Think of that ... think what it feels like under the leather strap ... and I think it will help you a great deal in becoming submissive and obedient."
Caroline had listened to his homily and she shook her head in an affirmative movement to try to convince him that if only the cage were taken off right away, she would truly be ready to show herself submissive and obedient as he had said.
To be sure, she didn't know what would be asked of her-but at that moment she felt she would do anything, no matter what, to end the torment which she was now enduring. She was unfortunately yet to learn that at Ben-Abar the trainers never went back on a promise of punishment or on the duration which had been set for that punishment. And now, for a moment which seemed to her a veritable eternity, Caroline had to endure the contact of Jason's prying hands on her breasts, her bottom and her vulva. Then he left her, went to the heavy door, opened it and closed it with a clang. She heard the heavy bolt slam home, and she found herself alone, the prey of her intolerable agony, as much mental as physical. Despair swept over her, and she began to sob hysterically, her body shaking from her ankles to her wrists hauled high above her head by the chain that fixed into the ceiling.
* * *
With a light heart, Jason returned to the studio of the Countess. Ah, things were taking a very good turn. The future had never seemed so bright to him, especially when he began to think of all the things he would do to Caroline and also those things he was going to force her to do....
The Countess, who was writing a letter, raised her head and eyed him questioningly. "I've just locked her up in the Silver Cage and also given her a little foretaste of the strap," he explained as he sank down into an armchair with a sigh of content.
"That seems quite good. Anything else?" the Countess asked.
"Well, naturally, I permitted myself to touch and fondle her a little bit."
The Countess smiled with amusement. "Knowing you as I do, the contrary would have astonished me. I dare say that only your sense of discipline kept you from fucking her?"
Jason nodded. "That's perfectly correct, Countess. I had to make quite an effort not to fuck her, but you need have no fear, you know I never lose control of my actions. I shall wait till you give me the order to fuck her ... as usual."
"You won't have long to wait, dear Jason. But I don't absolutely forbid you to amuse yourself with her till that time. Quite the contrary, you may enjoy yourself with her as much as your heart dictates, with the exception of any penetration, and I stipulate that even though she isn't a virgin-at least not in front So, then, enjoy her as you know how: suck her, have yourself sucked by her; masturbate yourself or masturbate her, fuck her in her mouth or between her breasts! Besides, she has very beautiful breasts which ought marvelously to serve for that kind of special pleasure. Yes, I think one couldn't do more salutary things to a girl with such a fiery spirit Think, my dear fellow, that she had the effrontery to slap the face of the man who's bought her from us, and simply because he put his hand on her knee. And over her dress, remember. Imagine, then, what she'll feel when you let yourself go in your customary penchants for the female."
Jason remained impassive. Finally he commented, "I can very well imagine and also divine her reactions. That promises me quite a few satisfactions, as you can no doubt guess."
"Very good," the Countess ironically retorted, "I love men who do their work with such enthusiasm."
Then Jason began to laugh. "You work very late tonight," he remarked.
"Not really. Besides, I was just finishing. I was composing a cable to one of our agents, Lady Fiona Savage, who is our contact in London. I think she'll communicate it to Basil Rothberg, for whom we're preparing Caroline."
"Oh, yes?"
"The telegram says this: 'CM. arrived in excellent state. The training has already begun. C. has already received a first foretaste of discipline with the whip. At this very moment, she is naked, chained in the dungeon of our general quarters. More detailed reports will follow. Signed, C Naturally, all that's in code. What do you think of it? I can easily imagine Mr. Rothberg's shock when Lady Fiona hands him this."
"Hmmm. Yes. I'll bet he'll be much more impatient than ever to advance the date of delivery," Jason chuckled. And with this, he rose, bowed to the Countess and left the studio.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
General Narrative
A few minutes before midnight, Jason Vanwell again visited the dungeon cell. This time, he had taken off his white silk shirt and black trousers which he customarily wore to put on black silk body tights which sheathed him like a second skin from ankles to collarbone. A narrow slit, judiciously placed, allowed his penis and testicles to emerge; by contrast with the black silk, his sexual organ seemed abnormally and obscenely long and thick. His feet were shod in red leather Turkish heelless slippers.
It was, actually, the costume he donned at every training session, save when it took his fancy to be as naked as the pupil. He drew the bolt, entered the cell and stared through the latticework of the Cage of Silver, savoring the desperate eyes of the unfortunate Caroline.
"Do you still feel a desire to bite, my beauty?" he demanded.
There was a prolonged groan, then the cage stirred in a negative gesture.
"Good. At any rate, we'll soon see."
He lifted the latch of the little door, made it turn, drew out the spike-studded steel ball, bolted the two sections of the cage itself, and drew it off. A profound groan of the most intense relief escaped Caroline as her head bent toward her bosom in exhaustion, while alleviating tears trickled down her flushed cheeks onto her erratically swelling breasts.
* * *
"Do you feel a little better disposed towards submission now, Caroline? Jason demanded.
"Y-y-yes," Caroline groaned, asking only one thing, to be left alone, to be tormented no more.
"When you address yourself to me or reply to my questions, you must always say 'Sir' or, better still, 'Master,'" he informed her. "It's a mark of respect to me, as well as the mark of your status as a slave. Each time you omit or forget that formality, you will make the acquaintance of this." Striding towards the wall, he took down the heavy leather thong, then went back to her. "Now, I ask you again. Do you feel yourself better disposed to submission?"
She raised her head, with a look of pain and horror.
He then moved around to place himself behind her. Wishing to avoid physical contact with him, Caroline tried to evade by moving forward several steps, but the steel chain lofting her arms prevented more than a slight movement of this kind. Following her, he put his arms round her body and cupped her naked breasts, drawing her back against his body.
Caroline, trembling with rage and revulsion, felt against her whip-sensitized naked bottom the warm, obscene contact of his half-erect penis which prodded her as if to delve between those two satiny hemispheres which contracted in horror and disgust. Was it possible that such a vile thing could happen to her, the beautiful, seductive, important Caroline Martin?
Without being aware of it, she uttered protesting groans. If at the moment she could have killed him just by lifting her little finger, she would have done so without the slightest remorse. She felt a mounting nausea as she sensed the hardening of his heavy virility against her shuddering flesh; she wanted to shriek, but the terrible memory of the Cage of Silver crowded back into her throat, already choked by sobs as it was, all the vilifications that leaped into her tormented brain.
His lips curving in a smile of sadistic lubricity, Jason at last released her panting bare breasts, but not before he had slyly tweaked the tensing nipple buds. He now posed his hands on her burning buttocks, and brusquely yawned them apart, his fingers gliding into the velvety moist furrow. Now his penis, in rampantly full erection, pointed savagely against that defenseless naked behind.
Suddenly, feeling the contact of the thick, plum-shaped meatus against her anus, Caroline, sickened by fear and revulsion, forgot all prudence. She began to struggle again, furiously seeking to escape that odious, lewd constraint, while she cried out "Let me go-let me be! You filthy swine! You dirty brute! How dare you! You vile wretch!"
For a few moments, Jason pretended not to hear and continued to fondle her indecently, sliding his entire hand between the lovely naked buttocks to palpate lingeringly the plump orifice of her vulva and the secretive, crinkly anus, paying not the slightest heed to her despairing cries. Then he let her go and stepped back.
"I'm going to teach you to hold your tongue, Miss," he said, raising his arm. Then the heavy leather strap fell, directed with all his force across the huddling twin globes of her naked behind.
Once ... tttttthhhwwaaaaackkk!!!!
Twice ... ttttthhwwwaaaaaaackkkk!!!!
"Since you insulted me again, I shall lock you up in the Cage of Silver for five hours," he pronounced.
Rage abandoned Caroline as swiftly as it had taken hold of her. The terrible slashes of the strap had much to do with this conversion, yet overall the terror and suffering of these past hours wrenched from her a new outpouring of shrill cries and sobs: "N-no-n-no-I d-didn't m-mean-ahh-to-to say it--I-I couldn't h-help mm-myself-n-no-ohh n-noooooo-I-I won't say it again ... S ... Sir!"
Jason felt a maddening pleasure surge through every fiber of his being. Again the strap slashed downttttthhwwaaaaackkk!!!!
"Will you start it over again," he shouted, and swept the thong over her writhing naked posterior with all the strength of his arm ... ttttthhwwaaaaaackkk!!!
"Will you?"-ttttttthhwwaaaaaaaackkk!!!
"Eh? Filthy little slut-will you start it again?" ttttthhwwaaaaaaackkk!!!!
Under the repeated shock of the thick leather thong, Caroline uttered frightful screams and struggled like a madwoman, tottering with suffering. Ttttthhwwaaaaackkk!!!!
"Ahr-stopppppp-n-no-noooooo-I-I swear it! I-I won't start it again-" Ttttthhwwaaaaackkk!!!!
"You swear it," Jason mocked her. "Yes, you promise now. But I don't think you're really sincere, Caroline."
Ttttthhwwwaaaaackkk!!!!
"I'm going to train you to obey, really obey!"
Again he raised the strap, then made it crack furiously against the lovely naked agonized bottom. Once ... twice ... a third, a fourth, a fifth, a sixth time.
Mad with agony, her eyes haggard, shrieking like an animal, Caroline thought of only one thing, to feel no more such lashes, to be at last delivered from her frightful fetters. Finally, after an endless moment as it seemed to her, her wish appeared to be realized, but surely not because she desired it-simply because such was her trainer's good pleasure!
Jason unlocked the bracelets which fixed about her wrists and Caroline, her resistance crushed, slumped down, groaning pitifully, on the thick woolen rug. She lay on her side, her knees drawn up, a hand feverishly rubbing her horribly burning buttocks, swollen by the long thick weals imprinted by the heavy thong. She wanted to lie there always, to die like that, if only nothing more would happen to her.
But it was not to be. Jason's pitiless voice drew her from her torpor.
"Pur yourself on all fours!"
"Oh ... oooooh! N ... no ... I-I-b-beg of y-you ... don't beat me any more ... n . noooooo!" Ttttthh wwaaaaaaaaackkk!!!!
The thick leather fell like a fiery brand across her scarlet buttocks. Caroline wriggled like a fish out of water, shrieking in torment.
"Do what I told you!"
Sobbing with terror, the young girl placed herself on all fours.
"Now try not to move, otherwise all you've had so far will feel like a gentle caress compared with what I'd be disposed to give you. I want to inspect you. Spread your knees! Better than that, now ... there-now don't stir!"
Shaken with sobs, Caroline, her body stiffening with horror, felt his hands pass between her thighs and obscenely palpate the lips of her vulva; his grazing fingers pushed aside the soft silky hairs which hampered him and gaped open the lips of her slit. Revolted, sick with shame, lovely Caroline fought off the mad impulse to resist the obscene caresses of her tormentor. Leaning over the naked body of his beautiful pupil, Jason was rapt in contemplation, his eyes glistening with rut, of this horribly intimate examination. "What a lovely cunt!" he mouthed. "Ah, you've really got a lovely little cunt, dear Caroline! I'm sure you must fuck like a queen. Tell me, are you really a good fucker?" he gloatingly demanded in a choked voice, employing a familiar tone with her for the first time in token of his mastery over the unfortunate captive.
Choked with tears, Caroline was truly incapable of answering so indecent a question.
"A pity I can't fuck you right now. But you'll lose nothing by waiting, I promise you! I'll teach you to love big hard pricks. With a lovely cunt like yours, it'll be a true regalia!" As he mouthed these lascivious words, he pried open the rosy petals of her anus and dug one of his fingers into it. This last indecency surpassed all Caroline could bear. With a sobbing protest, she escaped her executioner's grasp and flung herself flat on the rug, weeping as if her very heart would break.
For a moment he smilingly regarded her, while with one hand he gently caressed his enormous naked penis, thrust out like an iron stake. What a pleasure it would be to fuck her, to impale her, violently, savagely ... make her cry, shriek under a good rogering! He well knew the power of his massive ramrod and recalled other victims, other rapes ... unfortunately, for the time being, he had to control himself; he could enjoy her only when the time was decreed. Such had been the Countess' edict, and he had not the slightest desire to go against the orders of the directress of the organization.
"Get up at once!" he sharply ordered. "And kneel down before me!"
Out of the fear of feeling once more the terrible kisses of that dreadful leather thong, Caroline hastened to obey that order, but a groan filled with horror nonetheless emerged from her trembling lips when she had taken that commanded pose. For before her face, hardly an inch away, sticking out of the black silk tights, thrust Jason's enormous penis. Her eyes exorbitant, her jaws trembling with stupefied horror, Caroline stared at the thickest, most monstrously huge cock she had ever imagined.
The huge meatus seemed fairly to burst forward from the turgidly veined shaft. And under that shaft dangled two heavy balls thick as hens' eggs!
"A tasty tidbit, eh, my dear?" he chuckled, as, shaking himself, he made his huge penis jog up and down in a horribly obscene movement. Caroline drew back, frantically closing her eyes to escape that hideous vision, but Jason plunged both hands into her hair till she cried out with pain as he forced her back toward the loathsome object. "Look! Look at it!" he commanded in a harsh voice. "Look at it. Have you ever seen a better one? It's for you ... all for you!"
Her eyes hypnotically fixed, rolling up to the whites from the vicious traction his fingers enforced on her disheveled hair, as if fascinated by a venomous snake, Caroline, whose body was shaken by an involuntary tremor, groaned ceaselessly like a terrified little dog.
"Yes," Jason went on, "yes, it's all for you, beautiful slave! For your cunt, my lovely Miss, for your mouth, for your ass-all for you!"
Moving forward toward that lovely, agonized and immobilized face, he twisted his loins, and his heavy penis slapped Caroline's tear-wet cheeks with a moist, exciting smack. "A pity it's so late and that the time has come to prepare you for the night," he told her. "I'd have loved to play a little with you. However, it's only put off for a while, my beauty. Now get up and follow me at once!"
He led her to the wall, to a place where a huge iron hook was fixed; from it dangled a thin gleaming steel chair which attached its free end to a thick leather collar with spring lock. This he opened, then buckled the collar round Caroline's neck; she, broken by all she had already endured, had no thought of revolt.
"I've decided," Jason declared, his penis slowly dwindling from its furiously massive size, "to be indulgent with you, in view of your inexperience. I had first thought of sentencing you to the Cage of Silver for five hours, which is to say till tomorrow morning, to punish you for your evident bad will and for what you said."
Caroline uttered an indistinct groan.
"However," he continued, "I shan't do it. Nevertheless, understand that if this behavior of yours occurs tomorrow, I shan't hesitate for an instant!"
Caroline began to weep at this unhoped-for solace.
"Th-th-thank you ... S ... Sir ... Ohh ...'t ... thank you," she feebly articulated.
His lips curved in a crafty smile. "However," he calmly went on, "your conduct cannot be totally absolved. So-and let me warn you now-in order that you may make your mind up well in advance on how to act, tomorrow morning, when I come to take charge of you when it's time to get up, the first thing I shall do will be to apply twelve strokes of the switch on your naked bottom."
At the announcement of this unexpected sentence, Caroline's breath was cut off by a terrified hiccup. Her beautiful large eyes, those of an imploring doe, sent Jason a despairing appeal for mercy while new, burning tears began to roll down her cheeks. Yet in the midst of this new, atrocious distress, one faint hope remained: it was that Jason had told her that only to terrify her and that actually he would not switch her after all.
Jason verified the locking of the thick leather collar, then made Caroline lie down on the warm woolen rug and, squatting down beside her, voraciously sucked her nipples while he slid a hand between her thighs, then between her buttocks to tickle her anus, in order to augment her feeling of total helplessness.
"Sleep well and have good dreams," he jested as he straightened. "Think of this-be sure not to forget!" he chuckled, gesturing to his penis, in half-erection, yet still a monstrous sight. Caroline uttered a dull groan. As if she could forget that horror!
Jason contemplated her with a satisfied smile on his cruel face. Stretched out on her side so as to ease the torment of her swollen and still burning buttocks, she stared back at him with eyes filled with tears and fright.
"It's quite warm here, you don't need a cover," he added, after he had turned out the light and was ready to leave. The heavy door closed with a clang; the bolts were thrust home. And Caroline found herself alone with her thoughts, impregnated as they were by the horror of all that had happened to her, and by the terror of all that was yet to happen.
* * *
Meanwhile, back in London, at approximately the same moment, Basil Rothberg was seated in his luxurious apartment. Lady Fiona Savage had just left him after having come to transmit a personal message. That message, of course, was the cable from the Countess which she had received that same morning and which, after decoding it, she had transcribed for her client.
Basil Rothberg mopped the fine drops of perspiration from his temples as he read again the message which brought him news of his future slave. He could hardly believe his eyes; it was almost incredible ... too good to be true! Caroline Martin, that arrogant young beauty, had already received the whip! For perhaps the tenth time he reread those titillating words. The message Lady Fiona had given him had said that she had been given the switch and also the leather thong, several times already.
Perhaps the switch was the very one he had seen used in the film on Jane Rayner's naked behind, he thought with mounting delight; and in his febrile imagination, he visualized Caroline in Jane's place, seeing her lovely weaving, jerking naked buttocks, pitilessly striped....
It was already exquisite, just to think of it!
What would it be like when he himself held the switch?
Caroline stark naked.
Caroline chained.
Caroline ... whipped!
Incredible.
Incredibly marvelous. Oh, let the moment be soon when she would be delivered to him ... soft, submissive, slave to all his lusts, slave to his most complete pleasures!
He rose and poured himself a glass of brandy, drank it slowly. Then, approaching the fireplace, he carefully burned the message as Lady Fiona had suggested. Then he went to his bedroom and undressed. "I'm going to bed naked and think of her," he said to himself savoringly.
Before clambering into bed, he stopped before a tall mirror to admire the rigid thrust of his penis. What an admirable organ it was! He could truly boast of being well endowed there ... a handsome morsel, worthy of a stallion itself!
He amused himself by gently caressing it, smiling with joy to feel the exceptional weight and the animal warmth of his organ which heated his palms as he stroked it just as if he were grasping the hot-water pipe of the building heating system.
When Caroline Martin would belong to him, he thought as he stretched out in bed, he would impose his thick, heavy prick on her in every possible way. As he thought of that, thought of the vulgar words by which he would make her salute his emblem of manhood, he shuddered. Then, setting his teeth, he began to masturbate himself very slowly.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Personal Narrative of Miss Martin
A long time passed before I could find sleep during that first night of my captivity. My mind was still too shocked by all the horrors I'd had to endure.
Solidly attached over a desk in the studio of that dreadful Countess, subjected to the burning cuts of that wicker switch ... again and again and again.
Rigidly chained, all naked, by Jason, in that cell ... to have felt myself touched so ignobly, all over my body, and unable to resist it.
To have endured the horrible blows of that terrible strap, shrieking with suffering, begging and imploring mercy, all in vain.
When he finally abandoned me in the darkness after a last outburst of obscenities, I wept and lamented in my wretchedness over my dreadful fate, trying to find in spite of all this some little courage in the hope of eventual escape.
In the end, I suppose that, broken by physical and moral fatigue, I fell into a deep sleep.
* * *
Then I wakened.
Instinctively, the nightmare of the day before flashed back into my mind. Besides, it would have been difficult for me to forget it. My poor behind still hurt me a lot, my neck was tightly circled by the leather collar whose chain riveted to the wall held me prisoner, and I was stark naked, lying on the thick woolen rug.
I didn't know whether it was daylight yet or not, for the darkness in this cell was complete, and not a sound filtered through the thick walls of this dungeon. Was it already morning or had I only slept a short time?
At any rate, I was most uncomfortable, for I had a frantic urge to make peepee ... and of course, bound as I was, there was no way to budge, to go anywhere to do it.
Suddenly, I felt a terrible nausea at the pit of my stomach, and I began to tremble in anguish. He ... that horrible Jason ... could enter at any moment, and I had just remembered what he had promised he would do when he came in. He was going to whip me with the switch.
At that recollection, I felt myself overcome with panic. He was going to do that to me-and I could do absolutely nothing to stop him.
My poor behind still hurt me so much-oh, no, I couldn't bear it, I knew I couldn't!
Like a wild animal, I began to drag frantically on my collar and the chain. It was stupid, naturally, but in view of the circumstances, quite excusable.
I stood up, trembling with terror. Tears began to run down my cheeks. Oh, wasn't there any hope, any escape, possible for me?
Hope?
Perhaps if I begged him ... if I promised him never, never again to say ugly things about him; if I promised him ... no matter what ... to bite my tongue. If I promised sincerely enough ... yes, sincerely, then perhaps ... perhaps....
I didn't want to get the switch, oh, no, I couldn't stand it!
I'd call him Sir, or even Master. I'd submit ... I'd promise him that. I-I'd even try not to say anything or move if he wanted to-to touch me again as he had done with his hands ... and ... and even with his horrible thing. ... Yes, yes, I'd do it, if only he wouldn't whip me any more!
* * *
My heart seemed to burst in my bosom when I heard the bolts slide back and saw the door open. Jason entered.
He was clad-if one can call it that-as he had been late last night, in black silk tights from which I could see his naked ... thing. It turned my stomach to see that monstrous virility. It was revolting!
"Good morning, Miss Martin. I hope you spent a good night?"
Oh, God, how could he speak so, how could he treat a young girl that way?
He came forward, and with a shiver of terror I saw that he held a long switch in his right hand. I leaped up and pressed myself, panting, against the cold stone wall. "Nooooo! Oh, please, oh, please, Sir-S-Sir ... I'll do all you order me to do ... but pi-please, d-don't wh-whip me!"
I was desperate. What more could I do? What else could I say?
He took me brusquely by the hair, drawing my head forward and staring right into my eyes. Oh, God, what a horribly icy gaze he had!
"You promise to do absolutely all I order you to do?" he asked. "How nice of you this is! I didn't expect to obtain such a complete or rapid submission from you!" And he smiled as he tugged me by the hair. Through the tears which blurred my eyes-it hurt me so-I saw with horror his frightful, vicious smile. "In spite of that," he went on, "you're still going to receive the switch on your lovely naked ass!"
"Oh, h-have pity!" The word escaped my lips; yet never in my life would I have thought myself able to utter it to beg mercy, no matter what would ever happen tome!
"You must not hope for any pity, Caroline, so long as you are disobedient. And you've hardly begun to learn the first rudiments of obedience." He smiled as he said that-horribly. I felt myself grow sick with fear.
"Look, my beauty," he ordered as he showed me the switch he held in his hand. "See? It isn't the same one with which your darling backside was already so burningly kissed. He chuckled lewdly, then resumed: "This one, we call the whalebone. It's made from a whalebone stay, such as is used in a corset, and I assure you its effect is far superior to the simple wicker switch. You will be able to perceive its effects for yourself very soon, and you may believe me when I tell you!"
Despite myself, I stared, fascinatedly, at the thin strip of whalebone which oscillated so menacingly before me. No thicker than one's little finger, about a foot long, it was rounded and white as ivory.
Jason let go of my hair and bent the switch in two to show me its suppleness; amusing himself for a few moments by frightening me, he put aside the switch and began to unhook the chain which fixed to my collar, but without removing the latter.
"On your knees!" he ordered. And I knelt, my heart beating till I thought it would burst. Each fiber of my being shivered with apprehension.
"Now, for the last time, I order you to put your face flat against the rug and to lift up your charming behind."
Can you imagine a young girl's receiving a more dreadful order? Can you?
"F-for the I-love of G-God-how can you ask that of me?" I quavered. I cast an entreating look at him, frightfully conscious of my nakedness, my weakness and my vulnerability. Conscious, too, of the terrible obscenity of the pose he had asked me to take before him.
"If you persist in not obeying immediately when I give you an order, Caroline, it won't be twenty-five but fifty strokes that you'll receive!" he coldly declared. "Now, for the last time-and this is such definitively-I order you to hoist your backside in the air!"
What could I do? There was no hope, no possibility of escape, for me. Sobbing with terror, I bent myself down till my breasts pressed against the woolen rug.
There was a brief whistling of the white switch ... and suddenly, a horrible pain swept across my buttocks. An intolerable suffering radiated through my poor behind. Under the terrible shock of that violent cut, I fell flat on my belly, kicking and wriggling in my agony. It was worse ... much worse than I had suspected. The whalebone switch caused much more frightful pain than the wicker withe.
As soon as I had got back my breath, I began to cry out to express my suffering; under the attack of pain, I had turned over on my back, and so I could, through my tears, see him standing, his feet planted astride my helpless body. In spite of my distress, I could not help noticing with horror that his big naked sex organ began to stiffen and throb like an animal's.
"You're going to get twenty-five just like that one," he announced to me with his frightful smile.
"Nooo! No! Ooooh! Noo!" I wailed, for terror made me hysterical.
"Perhaps you'd prefer to feel the whalebone's caress on your lovely little titties, oh?" he threatened, brandishing the terrible switch above my bosom. The mere thought of such a thing was so dreadful in itself that automatically, I quickly turned over on my belly to protect my bosom. And at once Jason applied a violent cut of the switch over my buttocks which I had so amiably presented to him. Again, I began to shriek out my suffering, twisting and kicking on the rug.
"Two ... you seem to me to be quite sensitive, and something of a baby, Caroline, isn't that so, my charming beauty?"
"P-pity-p-p-pity-" I sobbed, "d ... don't hit me ag-again ... oooh! No ... n-n-not ag-again!"
"I want to see that lovely little bottom up in the air-at once!"
The whalebone switch whistled its menace above my breasts; automatically, fear made me turn over on my belly.
"Aaaaahhhhh!"
A wild shriek tore from my agony-tauntened throat. A new lash from the whalebone had just frightfully striped my buttocks; hurting me so much that I couldn't hold myself back, and I began to make peepee while I sobbed with shame and pain.
Jason at once discovered what had happened to me and, laughing sadistically, told me that if I didn't stop at once, he would whip me "right on your pretty cunt!" My terror was redoubled at that incredible threat, and with an effort which made sweat break out on my forehead, I managed to halt the flow of my urine.
"You act like a baby, you've no shame," he chuckled. "Come, stand up! You'll go satisfy your little need, filthy little bitch, but I warn you that you're going to pay for your nasty behavior ... more lashes to teach you manners!"
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
General Narrative
Jason chuckled cruelly while he caressed his penis now in full erection, as Caroline painfully rose, uttering groans pathetic enough to break one's heart. Then he led her toward what, at first glance, seemed to be the continuation of the wall of heavy stones. Pressing on a little projection of one of the stones, he stepped back and, with the hum of an electric motor, a section of the wall pivoted on an axis like a door.
Caroline's eyes dilated with surprise when she saw a luxurious little bathroom, all in pink and white, gleaming with chrome and mirrors, whose opulence contrasted incredibly with the medieval austerity of her call.
"Here's the place you'll tidy up," he explained, "and where you'll keep up your beauty, for the Countess and I insist that you be always coiffured and made up in impeccable style, failing which your backside will be subjected to the switch. Go on, get in there!"
Caroline, hesitated fearfully. Wasn't this a trap he was baiting for her?
But Jason didn't hesitate. Lifting his arm, he swept a Violent cut of the whalebone over the naked buttocks of the young English girl. "I said, get in," he cried.
Caroline needed no other encouragement. With a wail of pain, she sprang forward, both hands frantically clutching her burning buttocks. "Obey when I tell you to," he scolded, again lashing the beautiful bare behind delivered to his merciless sadism.
Quite a section of the room was occupied by a pale pink tub, and in one corner a little door opened on a small toilet room whose two unusual features were the Turkish seat and the fact that the room itself was completely mirrored-floors, walls and ceiling. Jason pushed her inside and forced her to squat down in front of him in spite of her tears of humiliation and her feverish protests. Thanks to the mirrors, he could see her vulva open and widen like a mouth under the fawn-hued tufts of her pubis, while a golden liquid trickled down the bowl.
When it was finished, Caroline wept, destroyed by shame. "Now that you've finished this little need of yours," he intoned with a cruel smirk, let's go back to our affairs. Go put yourself just as you were, your backside up in the air, for I'm far from having finished with you, my beauty!"
And without the slightest warning, he swept the whalebone violently over her two satiny bottomglobes, while Caroline uttered a shrill shriek.
The cell began again to be filled with cries of wild suffering as poor Caroline was plunged into the torments of her fustigation. Maddened with pain, it seemed to her that Jason was inflicting each time a white-hot steel wand over the tender, ultra-sensitive flesh of her poor martyrized behind.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
General Narrative, continued
In this horrible fashion, Caroline received the twenty-five announced strokes, plus the promised supplement of ten additional lashes.
Jason was panting, his forehead damp with sweat. He had the erection of a stallion, and his monstrous penis jerked convulsively with pleasure in spasms that straightened it almost vertically up against his belly.
With a cynical, satisfied smile, he contemplated his naked victim, so pitifully shaken by uncontrollable sobs, while morally defaming her with his obscene compliments and commentaries which made her shudder with horror even through the intense burning suffering which radiated through her lovely behind now so hideously wealed.
"I love to hear my naughty pupils cry and weep ... and so, since you seem not to like the whalebone at all, I've decided that from now on I shall use no other kind of switch to train you."
* * *
A particular part of Jason's character was his self-mastery, and though he was ravenous with desire to fall upon the young English girl and fuck her with all the force of his rut, he managed to contain himself and to hold an attitude more in keeping with his function as a proper trainer of slaves.
Indeed, his position as "trainer" in the organization of "Rio" imposed certain rules and stipulations which he was obliged to follow. Just so, the training of a new slave called for certain plateau, certain degrees, which he had to respect. Punishments were imposed with an increasing degree of severity, so as to inflict the maximum suffering on the girl each time.
The same progression was observed with regard to the slave's erotic education, and the diverse obscene maneuvers and carnal unions were equally scheduled in a carefully calculated order to obtain the best results. He bent over the beautiful English girl who was still prostrated before him, and slipped his hand between her burning naked buttocks. Feeling his fingers in the furrow of her behind, Caroline, who was still groaning and sobbing, started convulsively as if she had had an electric current surge through her, swaying her swollen behind to left and right to escape the atrocious caress, and with such vehemence that her breasts flattened against the rug.
"Don't-do-don't do that," she implored, turning her tear-drenched face toward her tormentor.
He chuckled, still bent over her: "Try to hold your tongue, my beauty. You know what thoughtless words cost you, don't you? If ever you let yourself go so far as to utter those regrettable words again, you'll reel the lovely whalebone, and even more vigorously, I promise and guarantee you!"
After this threat, Jason callously resumed his immodest caresses. This time, his fingers concentrated on the young girl's anus, rubbing the dainty, crinkly rosette in the most lascivious way, even trying to pry it open and insert his fingertip within it.
Then his hand slipped farther on, and his caressing fingers were in contact with the firm prominent lips of her slightly open vulva, which he opened still more to ferret out the tender pink crest of her clitoris.
Caroline, huddling on the rug and groaning with shame, trembled throughout her entire body, but only an oppressed, whistling sound escaped her lips, which drew back over her clenched teeth in a rictus of supreme revulsion. She had closed her eyes and submitted with almost nauseating horror to these indecent manipulations, knowing what the slightest movement of revolt would cost her.
"Now, Miss Caroline Martin," he gently remarked, "you're not in a London taxi, as you were when you slapped a man simply because he had dared to touch your knee. Now, I can touch you when I wish ... and above all, where I wish."
A groan of despair escaped Caroline. She knew very well that what he said was frightfully true; she had to admit that he was touching her most secret parts, and she had to endure that obscene contact. Yet every fiber of her being revolted against it; it was intolerable. And yet, she kept herself from emitting the slightest word of protest.
Finally Jason interrupted his lewd palpations and authorized her to rise. "I shall leave you alone now," he declared," and you'll clean yourself and rest for a bit. I shall come back for you in an hour and a half, in order to continue your education, for you have a great many things yet to learn!"
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Personal Narrative of Jason Vanwell
I heard a timid knock at my door, and I bade her enter.
She was still naked, apart from a pair of long black nylon hose and fine black pumps, the only clothes-if one can call them that-which I'd allowed her to put on. Impeccably made up, with her hair neatly combed, as ordered under penalty of sanctions. A little pale, her eyes violet-circled, her nervous hands betraying her anguish. Her lovely naked titties, rising and falling quickly, seemed to offer out their rosy points-involuntarily, needless to say!
I pretended that I hardly noticed her, and made a silent gesture toward the little bench placed near my armchair. With a fearful air, she seated herself, her thighs tightly squeezed together, her arms over her bosom to hide those splendid titties of hers.
I smiled with amusement, but said nothing, continuing to smoke my cigarette and read the book I held in my hand. Finally, I decided to hurl my thunderbolt, and turning towards her, stared her straight in the eyes, inwardly enchanted to see the fear that leaped into them.
I said, "You're not at a tea party at the vicary, Caroline. So it's useless for you to sit like that, with your arms crossed in that unaesthetic way, your legs pressed together like a holy virgin. You must learn to sit down in a suitable fashion in my presence. Now stand up! Good ... now, you're going to sit down as every slave must do before her master. Now sit down ... very straight ... hands crossed behind your neck, arms well spread on each side, so as to stick out those lovely little titties you've no reason to hide. Come now, better than that, stick out your titties! Good ... now open your legs!"
A shiver that announced imminent tears passed over her pale face, but after a few seconds' hesitation, her knees slightly opened.
"Open them! Spread them better than that," I dryly scolded. "Perhaps you'd prefer to have me take the switch and incite you to livelier obedience?"
Her lips began to tremble, but she widely opened her legs, revealing the secret of her cunt which I knew she would have longed to hide from the gaze I fixed on it. "Now that's better," I smilingly declared. "But so it will be .perfect, sit on the edge of the bench and push out your darling little cunt!"
She could not suppress another sob, but squirmed forward as I'd ordered, and arched out that adorable little quim of hers.
I felt passion rise in my prick. As I was completely naked under a cashmere robe, I should have every license, when the whim took me, to exhibit my big prick to modest little Caroline. For the time being, I leaned toward her, and I caressed very delicately the fawn-hued moss of her armpits, her titties palpitating to the quickened rhythm of her breathing, her belly which tensed under my fingers, and then the curly fur of her cunt whose yawning lips no longer concealed the inside of a lovely hole, bright pink and sweet to fuck!
"You're very lovely and exciting, Caroline," I said, tickling her clitoris, which made her start. I stared at her a moment without a word; then, raising my hand, I slapped her twice, first her right cheek, then the left, wrenching a terrified cry from her.
"No! Master! Master!" she cried shrilly.
"Good! Try to continue to call me thus. Besides, to refresh your memory in case you don't, I've the proper stimulant," I told her reaching behind me and bringing out a superb martinet with ebony handle and long green leather thongs. I saw anguish and terror mount in her beautiful tear-filled eyes, and I felt my big prick lift heavily in its savoring joy.
"Caroline, we're going to proceed to the first stage of your education as a slave. I'm going to teach you certain words and expressions which will be necessary for you to know, so as to employ them at the opportune time. Perhaps you may even already know some of them, but we'll find out. However, I warn you once and for all that a slave must not, must never, lie to her master. It is an unpardonable fault which is very severely punished. Now then, consider yourself duly warned."
I then pointed a finger toward her jutting bosom and asked, "Do you know what one calls those lovely things?"
"I-I-I don't know," she stammered, red with confusion.
"They're named titties, or bubbies," I said calmly. "And now, tell me what they're called."
"Ah-er-I-m-my-t-titties-my-b-bubbies." Her face was red as a tomato.
Without hesitation, I lifted my arm and slashed the thongs of the martinet over those lovely globes, which seemed to dance under the clinging kiss of the thongs, while she fell backwards, shrieking with agony, clutching her bosom. Long livid streaks encircled those darling titties, ornamenting them magnificently to my taste.
I pointed the martinet at her. "Good. Now, we'll proceed the same way for the other parts of your charming nakedness. The place which the Countess and I have already occupied ourselves a good deal with you is called the ass. But you knew that, didn't you?"
"Y ... yes ... m ... m ... master."
"Then say it!"
"It is ... my ... my ass ... m ... master ... my ... a ... ass," and Caroline began to cry.
"Yes, my beautiful miss, it's your ass, your lovely girlish ass, to which I reserve many a surprise, I promise you. But that isn't all. That lovely ass is composed of two beautiful buttocks, and when one spreads them open, these buttocks, what does one see?"
"I-I d ... don't know-"
With a violent backhand twist of my wrist, I furiously whipped her titties. A frenzied shriek tore from Caroline who again flung herself, crying and sobbing, on the rug.
"Back in your seat, back, at once!" I cried, slashing the cruel thongs right against her tender satiny belly.
Caroline leaped wildly to her place, uttering strident cries, and painfully resumed her seat, thighs open, hands behind her neck.
I examined her titties which had begun to redden and swell where the leather thongs had traced dark pink strata. I took her nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand and I squeezed them with all my might as I pulled on them at the same time.
Under the torture, Caroline began to totter, and, leaving her position, she gripped my wrists to try to release those wounded tidbits, uttering clamorous shrieks.
"Answer me," I roared, "what do they call what's between your buttocks?"
Choking with agony, Caroline uttered unintelligible cries, and finally managed to articulate: "Aaaagghhh ... no ... noooooooo ... oooooggghhhhh ... aaaaanus ... m ... my aaaanus!!"
"Little bitch," I said, releasing her, "take the position at once. You see, you knew it, didn't you? I warned you not to lie to me!"
"Ooooh ... ooooh," she sobbed, enough to move a stone statue-but not myself, I assure you!-"P-pardon ... pardon ... m ... master ... but don't hurt me so ... oooh ... oooohhh ... my b ... breasts ... ohh, my breasts!"
"No pity for you if you lie again," I warned as I took up my martinet. "Repeat it now!"
"M-my anus, master," she groaned, then began to sob hysterically.
"Yes, yes, dear Caroline, it's your anus. Your bunghole ... your asshole ... and to that dainty asshole of yours I reserve for it also a special treatment all my own. It's a particularly sensitive spot, quite susceptible to be made use of in training a disobedient girl like you. Do you know what one can do to a woman's anus?"
"Noooo, m ... master, I-I swear it-"
"I believe you this time, dear Caroline, for these are things which well brought up young ladies like you scarcely have occasion to learn, or at least to discuss. That is why I'm going to teach you, so you may be clarified on what awaits you."
I let this sink in for r moment, then pursued: "First, from the viewpoint of punishment, one can bury various stretching objects in the anus, or whip your bunghole with the aid of a special lash made of rubber, which, I must confess to you, is extremely painful. Or again, in case of refusal to obey, thrust in a cotton tampon soaked in hot eau de cologne, a punishment which causes much suffering."
Caroline stared at me, her mouth gaping with terror, but without taking note of her frightened stupor, I jubilantly continued: "However, before all else, your asshole, lovely slave, is made to be buggered! I mean that for a man, the master, to bury his full erect prick into it and take his full joy within its dainty depths!"
At this, Caroline couldn't hold back an exclamation full of horror: "Oooh! No, no!" she protested in a suffocating voice. "Oooooh! Why-why do you tell me such horrible things? N ... no ... no, I beg you ... I beg you, sir!"
"Oh, but yes indeed, lovely miss! One day you will be bottom fucked, yes, buggered, and I warn you that generally it hurts ... a good deal, especially if the slave is buggered as a punishment." I chuckled as she shrank from me. Then I said, "Think now," and I opened my robe to expose my enormous prong standing up like a mule's cock, "think now, Caroline, what you'll feel when this huge thing buries itself pitilessly in your tight, sensitive asshole. Sincerely, I've almost pity for you, and yet, you must receive it all ... entirely, up to here"-and at this, I pointed to my heavy balls.
But this time, it was truly too much for her offended modesty and for her pride as a young lady accustomed to the respect and adulation of her admirers.
"Oh, you ignoble brute! How dare you say such things to a young girl? You're low, a shameless creature-oh, I detest you, I hate you!" and she burst into sobs and despairing cries.
To tell the truth, I had expected that, for I had purposely used crude, obscene words to excite her disgust. I sprang up and, gripping her by the hair, dragged her head violently back, and with all my might I began to lash her titties, belly, thighs and arms, when these latter tried to protect the vulnerable and most tempting portions of her delectable anatomy.
My room was filled with the clamor of her suffering and terror; and the more she cried out, wept and complained, the more it excited me and the more I whipped her, till her titties jiggled from one side to the other under the terrible lashes of the martinet which I pitilessly applied against their round jutting curves, thrilling with delicious joy to cause her such agony that, at the same time, struck home at her prudery.
The correction was so severe that suddenly she went limp in my arms and I saw that she had fainted, for I'd forgotten to give her a fortifying injection which would have prevented her losing consciousness under the mounting threshold of the pain I so joyously bestowed upon her.
My prick was on fire and agonized me, so violently had I been roused to a full hard-on, but I was quite able to restrain myself and occupy myself with my victim as had to be done before taking my pleasure with her. I promised myself that pleasure for later ... in the afternoon. Till then, I preferred to remain in full erection so I might better train my beautiful pupil, for I was far from having finished with her.
For the moment, I gave her a stimulant to sustain her and avoid a new fainting spell. Then when, trembling with terror and half choked by her sobs, she had satisfactorily come to, I sermonized her in a cross voice while she timidly moved her trembling hands over her poor reddened and streaked titties, marked by the vigorous lashing I'd inflicted on them.
"Filthy little bitch! Is that the way you profit from my lessons? Ah, you rebuff me! So, you call me filthy and low, I, your trainer! Very well, my charming one, I know what has to be done. This evening, I'll lock you up in the Cage of Silver, and not for an hour, nor for even four or five, but for all night long! That will teach you, I wager!"
Only her despairing plaints answered my pronunciamento, which reaction, to be sure, I quite ignored. "And now," I continued, "we shall pursue our lesson, but seriously recommend that you don't try that little come by again, or you'll have earned yourself a visit to the Room of Punishments."
I glared at her, smiled to see her shrink back, and then resumed: "For now, it's necessary that you learn the art and manner of exhibiting your charms when your master will order you to do so. You'll begin by kneeling and by presenting me with your lovely naked ass!"
"Ooooh! No-n-noooo-oh pi-please," she begged me, clasping her hands and lifting them toward me as in prayer.
I bent over her and, terribly roused, I kissed her lingeringly on the mouth. I felt her stiffen with despair when my tongue slithered between her lips; then she passively submitted to that further exquisite humiliation.
I stood up, moved away from her: "Do you want me to take you right away to the Room of Punishments?" I demanded in a harsh voice.
"Nooo! Oh, noo!" she cried, recoiling with fear.
"Very well, then. So do at once what I told you to do. Kneel, or rather put yourself on all fours, and stick your lovely ass out toward me, so as to offer it humbly!" And, making the martinet whistle in the air above her, I added, "Don't try to push my patience to the end, Caroline!"
With a long groan filled with despair, she finally placed herself on her hands and knees.
"Hoist that lovely backside still more!" I threatened.
"Ooooh, please-ohh n ... not that, pi-please," she kept supplicating, weeping with all her heart.
I swiftly approached her and applied two terrible strokes across her naked behind, which tore piercing cries from her.
"I told you to present your ass properly to me. You must obey without reservations! Lift your buttocks still more, and present them the way they should be for my inspection!" I waited a moment, glowering at her, watched her shudderingly obey. "There, that's already much better. Now, beautiful little slave, you're going to put your hands behind you and of your own accord open up your lovely buttocks so I may properly examine your little cunt and your asshole!"
She seemed to hesitate for a few instants, then suddenly, taking me by surprise, since I believed her mastered, she flung herself forward with a cry of rage and revolt: "No! No!" she began to shriek furiously, "you've no right to make me do that! Filthy swine, disgusting scoundrel, I won't do it! I won't do it, no, no, no!"
And suddenly she ran toward the door of my room and with all the strength of her revulsion and despair she sought to open it. Needless to say, I'd taken the elementary precaution of locking it by key; and when she discovered there was no possible way out, she slumped against the wooden panel, sobbing and weeping with abysmal despair.
I flung myself on her, crying out in a hoarse, furious voice: "Filthy little slut! Ah, you wanted to escape, did you? So, you don't want to obey? Well, I'll make you pay for that! You've just earned yourself a trip to the Room of Punishments, and I beg you to believe that we shall both have fun there!"
Then she threw herself down on the rug, kicking and screaming, "Help! Help! Oh, God, won't someone help me?"
I plunged one hand into her long silky tresses and, slipping my other hand between her thighs, despite the maddened resistance she tried to oppose, dug three of my fingers into her vagina, and having thus harpooned Wr, lifted her with a sudden jerk of my loins and bore her shrieking and wriggling toward the dungeon and the Room of Punishments.
Arrived there, I flung her on her belly over the heavy wooden horse and, easily overpowering her kickings and squirmings, buckled round her ankles the leather cuffs sealed into the back legs of the apparatus; then I immobilized her wrists the same way; next I tightly buckled round her waist the broad leather strap which pinned her down tightly with her belly flattened against the punishment horse.
"Nooooo! Ohhhh! Help! Help!" she shrieked, absolutely terrorized now, for she was becoming aware that her rebellion was going to cost her dearly.
"Yes, cry out, cry out as much as you want, beautiful bitch! Here, no one will hear you, except myself, and the more you cry out, the more it will rouse my prick! Look at this!" I flung off my robe to show her my huge prick throbbing, swollen, ready to explode its gismic burden. And, stark naked, my prick bobbing as I walked, I strode around the punishment horse.
Because of its special construction, the horse was higher and wider at the rear part than at the front, the purpose being to upraise and totally distend the bottom cheeks of the victim thereto attached. Hence I had under my eager eyes the most intimate view of Caroline's maiden secrets. In the ambery cleft of her behind, the delicious bunghole, a dark pink aureoled with silky blonde hairs; and then, beneath, thickly framed by the rich profusion of silky tufts, her vulva, yawning to expose the humid, bright red interior of the vagina, that exquisite channel way for fucking!
What a delicious, exciting spectacle it was!
"So, little whore," I laughed, "you didn't want to show me your cunt and your asshole, eh? But do you know that at this very moment I see them as clearly as a doctor examining you would be able to do? I see them, and you can't prevent me," I went on, while she frantically tightened her muscles, groaning and sobbing, in the feverish hope of contracting her bottomcheeks. But the straddle imposed upon her by the contours of the horse was such that she could do absolutely nothing except remain there, opened, offered, powerless to avert whatever I pleased to do to her.
"I'm going to kiss your ass ... I'm going to lick your asshole and your pussy, do you hear me, Caroline? You're going to feel my tongue in your vagina, over your lovely cunt! You're going to feel it dig into that dainty tidbit of an asshole of yours!" I savoringly pronounced.
"Noooooo! Oooooh! Nooooo!" she gasped in a tone full of horror.
With a mocking laugh, I bent over her bottom, till my face brushed the cheeks of her distended naked bottom. I kissed that dainty, crinkly little mouth whose silky hairs tickled my lips most agreeably; then with my hardened, pointed tongue, I forced the tender petals to open, and I buried my tongue a little in the warm little canal of soft, quaking flesh. Her asshole rejected my tongue with a violent nervous spasm.
Without wanting to make an issue over this sign of ill will, this time I posed my mouth right against the orifice of her pussylips, and I delectated a long moment in sucking and licking that soft moist flesh; this time my tongue could plunge its entire length into her vagina ... my lips could take hold of the nodule of her clitoris which began to harden under that intimate caress.
"You've got a hard-on! You've got a hard-on!" I laughingly told Caroline, who burst into tears of shame and confusion. "Now give me that sweet little bunghole of yours," I ordered; once again, pointing my tongue and tautening it as if it were a veritable prick, I tried again to force through that narrow little slit of crinkly, rosy flesh, but once again a nervous reflex on her part repulsed my tongue.
At once, my sadistic instincts took over! "Ah, you little whore, you squeeze your ass shut, do you? You don't want to let me train you, eh? Well, we'll see!" I angrily cried. Then, posing the tip of my index finger against her asshole, which glistened with my saliva, I applied a violent thrust forward, and brutally buried my finger, up to my very palm, inside her bunghole!
Caroline uttered a strident cry: "You're hurting meee! Ahhhh! You're hurting me!" she shrieked, trying to turn her head toward me.
"So much the better," I laughingly replied, "I want to hurt you ... a good deal more, you'll see!"
I tore my finger out of her anus, wresting simultaneously a new shriek from the young beauty. But I hadn't finished. This time, I stuck out index and middle finger together toward that dinty orifice. I saw her asshole grow deformed and distend hugely round my two fingers, which I forcibly probed into her recalcitrant rectum. Then, after twisting them about several times, I savagely pulled them out. Her asshole was already reddened and congested; as for Caroline, she shrieked and sobbed, but she could do nothing at all to prevent my vicious caress.
Now I stuck out index, middle and ring finger all in line, in a sort of cone, which I tried to bury into that dinty bunghole of hers. Her howls of suffering rose, louder and louder as my fingers advanced. Her asshole was formless now, abnormally stretched out as it was when, with an accentuation of wrist-pressure, I almost managed to penetrate the base of my three fingers.
Caroline uttered pitiful cries; leaning forward a little, I could see her fingers madly clawing the legs of the punishment horse under the crisis of suffering which was lacerating her tender behind.
I wished I could have buggered her right then and then, dry, to make her suffer and bellow a good deal more; but, alas, the time had not yet come for that, and so, regretfully, I slowly removed my fingers from that lovely backside, contracting frenetically in its owner's intolerable agony.
For a few indescribably delicious moments, I contemplated that swollen anus, agitated by nervous flexions; then I went to the wall from which I unhooked the whalebone switch, before moving in front of the punishment horse to show it to my victim.
Her face bathed in tears, Caroline lifted eyes filled with terror on the instrument she already knew so well, alas, and which I sadistically waved in front of her.
"Well, Caroline, this is the first time your titties and belly are in contact with the horse, but you may be sure it's not the last-far from it, my beauty!" I announced. "And now, I'm going to give you an insight into what is called a real whipping; I'm going to lash you without pity, which will teach you, my dear, to profit from the lessons and the warnings which I give you. You're here to be trained, to be whipped, to be conquered, my beauty, and you can believe that from my experience in such matters you assuredly will be!"
While I thus harangued her, I had seized her hair in my other hand so as to lift her head above the horse, and I amused myself with tapping her cheeks with gentle little pats of the whalebone. When I let her go, her head fell back onto the arched punishment horse while, she redoubled her sobbing pleas for mercy.
Every nerve in my body was vibrating with pleasure. This is what I loved above all else, to have a girl at my mercy and to whip her without pity. I had the erection of a donkey between my legs, in full heat, and my prick was enormous. If I had buggered her at this moment, I should have broken her backside for her! Alas, as I've already explained, the time for that kind of amusement was still on the calendar of the future. So I had to content myself with flogging her.
I took my place before the apparatus and there, my legs planted astride to assure my balance, my prick throbbingly upangling towards my belly, I raised my arm to ascend the supple whalebone, and with all the force of my wrist, I lowered it across her white bottomcheeks.
Instantly, Caroline raised her head with a violent jerk, and a strident shriek sprang from a throat strangled by the horrible searing torment that had bitten into her behind. A long livid weal encircled the lovely bottomcheeks, shuddering and tremoring in a series of rippling spasms of pain; and when she had at last regained her breath, it was to exhale another shriek of agony which echoed from wall to wall. I pivoted on myself and with all the strength of my arm dealt her a second stroke of the switch that was far worse than the first.
There was a sudden silence, for the excessive agony had momentarily cut off her breath then, as suddenly, she burst into deafening clamors. I knew that, wielded in this fashion, the whalebone must hurt abominably, but that only excited me the more; and without pausing, I lashed that lovely behind with all my might.
Methodically, spacing the lashes from ten to fifteen seconds apart, I sent her cut after cut. Caroline shrieked with all the power of her lungs. She resembled a madwoman. Her widely open mouth let saliva drip onto her chin, mingling with the tears that streamed down her cheeks; her neck was stretched so extremely that you could see the tendons stand out against the sweating skin, and her eyes were so enlarged by her suffering that one would have thought them about to pop out of their sockets.
Weal after weal, stripe after stripe ... my strokes fell regularly ... five ... then ten ... from ten to fifteen ... from fifteen to twenty. Caroline was really bellowing with agony. You could hardly believe that a lovely young girl like her could shriek so loudly! My prick was almost clinging to my belly, so exquisitely was I in rut.
Oh, the joy that shook me at each stroke I inflicted. Oh, the exquisite pleasure to hear and see the thin flexible switch bite into the tender flesh of those satiny bare bottomcheeks of hers! Oh, the delicious sensation of hearing her shriek and imagine how she must be suffering under the cuts I was administering to her!
Lash after lash, stripe after stripe, without pity or compassion. Hadn't I told her I was going to show her what a real whipping was like, so she'd remember it a long while?
By now, the pale flesh of her bare bottom had virtually disappeared under a network of swollen weals which painted her behind a dark pink. In my flagellatory excitement, I didn't notice at once that between the thirtieth and fortieth lashes my victim had finally lost consciousness, despite the injection I had given her to prolong her resistance. I stopped, panting, my forehead dripping with sweet, and I went back to the wall where I hung up the switch which had done such yeoman service.
Then, too excited to hold myself back any longer, I bent over the burning backside of my victim, and pressing my huge prick between her scarlet bottomcheeks, I deliciously masturbated. I needed only a few rubbing maneuvers along the ambery valley between those soft quivering globes to unleash my spunk, and with cries and groans of ecstasy, I spurted copious jets of thick white sperm over the unconscious Caroline's martyrized behind.
At last I straightened, and with my palms I rubbed my viscous white semen over her lovely ass, as if anointing her with a soothing balm. When the two globes were thoroughly impregnated with my sperm, I took a flask of smelling salts and held it under her contracted nostrils; then, when she was nearly restored, I left the Room of Punishments.
I wanted a drink to calm my nerves, as well as to give my pupil time to recuperate after the terrible shock she had just endured.
About two hours later, I returned to see how she was enduring her captivity, for she had remained bound to the whipping horse.
When I entered the Room of Punishments, there was such a silence that I feared for a moment she might still be unconscious, but I quickly realized, much to my relief, that such was not the case. At the sound of my footsteps, I saw her violently start, and all her lovely naked body began to tremble with terror.
Her face reposed on the side of the black wooden of the forward section of the horse, and one of her eyes fixed me with the terrified expression a rabbit has when fascinated by a snake. I heard her groan in a stifled voice.
"How's your little ass, Caroline?" I asked, feigning compassion.
She began to weep and turned her face to the other side. At once, I dug my fingers into her hair, making her cry out with pain. "You mustn't turn your face away when your master or your trainer speaks to you, that's something you must know once and for all," I dryly reprimanded her.
Stretching out my arm, I drew toward me a little adjustable chain dangling from the ceiling and with a rather wide ring at its free end. I thrust a sheaf of her silky, perfumed hair through the ring and knotted it all around; then I hoisted up the chain, which lifted Caroline's head and forced her to remain with her neck painfully stretched and her face erect. The poor darling wept like a child who is crushed by grief, and big tears again began to roll down her pale cheeks.
"I'm going to leave you this way till it's time for your meal. I hope this will be salutary to you and that this afternoon, when we resume our lesson in obedience, you'll be a little more supple and docile, my beautiful little Miss! Try to be good, now."
And I left the room, pursued by her lamentations, but not till I had caressed lingeringly and savoringly that sweet little cunt which she proffered to me so prettily.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Personal Narrative of Jason Vanwell, continued
After the excellent meal which I forced her to eat (for there was no question of restraining her as to diet; quite the contrary, it was important that she regain her strength), I generously allowed-her three hours of rest, then went to take her out of the room and bring her back to mine, as I had done in the morning.
* * *
After having made her resume the initial position with hands crossed on her nape and thighs widely spread, I began the educational session which had been so annoyingly interrupted in the morning.
"We shall see if you know your lesson, Caroline. What are those called?" I calmly asked as I fondled her breasts.
"My ... my t-titties ... master."
"Very good. And what do they call the little orifice of your behind?"
"I-m--my-an ... anus, m ... master."
"And besides?"
"My b-bungh-hole ... my ... my ... ass ... ass ... ass-h-hole," she breathed, blushing and lowering her eyes.
"Good, that's very good. Now, name for me the slit which hides under those lovely curly hairs."
Caroline began to tremble a little and raised supplicating eyes to me: "M-my s-sex ... my s ... slit ... or my v ... vulva?"
"No, that's not it at all!" I said in a cold tone. "Yet you've heard me tell you enough what the word is! All right, I'm waiting!"
She cast me a terrified glance and decided herself:
"I-it's my ... my ... c ... cunt....
"Say it better than that, three times!"
"My cunt ... my cunt ... my cunt...."
Already, to my great pleasure, I saw her lips trembling and her eyes mist. I untied the belt of my robe, and drew it completely off my body. Caroline started and instinctively lowered her eyes. Already, my big prick was half-erect, like the neck of a swan.
"And that, do you know it's name?"
"It-it-it's your-s-sex organ, m ... master," she stammered, turning her head away.
"Look at it! Look at it right away!" I commanded. "It's called a prick, a cock, a whang ... all right, now, repeat all that!"
Eyes fixed with apprehension and revulsion on my stiffening cock, Caroline Martin had to repeat clearly: "It's your prick, your cock, your whang."
"Repeat again! You must know those lovely words, and you know them well!"
"The p ... prick ...'t ... the c ... cock ... the wh ... whang ...'t ... the whang...." Saying this, silent tears ran freely down her contorted face.
And so, for half an hour, ignoring her horrified stammerings, I taught her and forced her to repeat a lengthy collection of erotic words and expressions. My pleasure was in seeing this young girl whose lips till now had been so used to the most intellectual and sophisticated phrases, obliged to explain to me, suffocated with shame and humiliation, the meaning of such words as: fuck, bugger, shit, frig, brown, pull prick out of bung, spurt, fuck ass, French, a blow job, suck balls, and so on. And Caroline was half dead with shame when at last I judged the moment ripe to pass to a more complicated occupation.
"In spite of your stilted attitude of a young lady of society, I'm certain that you already know certain of these words," I laughingly remarked. "Besides, you aren't a virgin, so you must already have got yourself fucked, eh?"
She was speechless and could only weep in her confusion.
"Come on, answer me when I ask you a question-and above all, pay attention not to lie, because you know what it costs you, eh?"
"Y-yes."
"Yes, what?"
"I-I-g ... got my-myself ... f ... fucked." As she stammered this out, she burst into touching little sobs. It was easy to see that such an avowal was not easy for a young lady like Miss Martin to make.
I stared at her for a moment, slowly caressing my cock as her horror-filled eyes watched my obscene maneuver. "And you love to be fucked, tell me, Caroline; you love to feel a big hard prick dig into your cunt, don't you?"
"Oooooh! Ooooohh!! Ooooohhh!!!" She didn't answer but went on weeping without restraint.
"Look at my prick!" I ordered, "Look at it, doesn't it make you hot? Wouldn't you love to have a thick long hard prick like that in your nice little cunt? Look at that juicy piece-tell me, does it please you?"
"Oooooooh! S ... Sir ... please ... n ... n ... oooooh ... n ... no!"
"What? It doesn't please you?" I feigned anger.
"Y ... yes ... Ohhhh! Yes ... it ... it's I ... lovely ... it ... it's ... lovely," she hurried to tell me, her words interspersed with hot tears and choking little sobs.
"And why does it please you so much, this prick of mine, tell me, lovely little fucker that you are?" I went on, without pity for her modesty.
She knew what she had to say to please me, or the whip would enter into play; so she forced herself to explain to me in a voice broken by sobs: "It ... it's b ... because it ... it's v ... very b ... beautiful ... very big ... it ... it's enormous ... it ... it's an en ... enormous p ... prick ... th ... that's w ... why I ... I love it," and she burst into heartrending sobs.
"And my balls, do they please you too?" I imperturbably demanded.
"Y ... y ... yes ... y ... y ... your b ... balls ... a ... are ... e ... enormous also."
"I see," I said with a mocking laugh, "I see you're-a vicious little whore, you love big whangs, eh? Well, be satisfied, my beautiful Caroline, you shall have it, you shall have it soon, I promise you, and be up to the balls! You'll have it in your cunt and you'll also have it in your ass! I think your ass is still virgin, isn't it?"
"Ooooohhh ... m ... master ...'s ... sir."
"Well, my little one," I went on, ignoring her horrified expression, "I shall take charge of unmaidening that sweet ass of yours. And when you've received this morsel of mine in your asshole, believe me, Caroline, you'll no longer fear suppositories!" I exclaimed as I frigged my huge cock to let her see what she was going to have to swallow when the time came.
She was ready to be sick from the horror that swelled up in her, but I was far from finishing with her, and so I resumed my little discourse. "I understand very well that you're impatient to be buggered by so handsome a shaft as this, but your little hole must wait and content itself for the moment with my tongue or fingers, for the taking of your asshole virginity, my dove, is to be done before The Countess who dearly loves to witness such a spectacle."
Hearing these last words, the poor little Miss was ready to faint, and she redoubled her despairing groans.
"While waiting, we may however occupy ourselves in another way," I said to her as if I did not notice her despair. "Stand up and come kneel before me." As I gave her that command, I sat down on the edge of my bed, my legs widely spread. Caroline came to kneel down before me.
"Come closer," I told her, and she crawled forward a little on her knees, her hands still crossed on her nape. "Closer still! Between my legs!"
"PI ... please ... n ... no ... please," she sniffled, but she nevertheless obeyed. She was now kneeling right between my thighs, petrified before my huge prick as a mouse before a hungry cat. My prick was not more than an inch from her lovely contorted face, and with its glistening, taut skin was so swollen that anyone would have thought it was on the point of spurting.
"Although you may already be acquainted with fucking," I explained in a doctrinary and serious tone as a schoolteacher might to a most attentive pupil-which she was!-"you've a catalog of things to learn. Things which your future master will demand of you for his own pleasure. First of all, you must know that a slave must not content herself just to receive her master's prick, though of course it may be for him one of the major pleasures. There are, for example, many delicious preliminaries, tasty perversions, and it is a slave's duty to know how to practice them in order to bring the master's joy to the zenith and to spice it with infinite variety. I hope I make myself clearly understood?"
A groaning reply escaped poor Caroline's contracted throat, and I knew she would certainly have given a great deal to be anywhere else in the world at this moment.
"Stop sniveling," I severely exclaimed, "otherwise, I'll give you something to really cry about!" Then I went on: "I'm going to teach you now one of the perversions of which I've just spoken. Nature has endowed you with a pair of lovely titties, soft, supple and firm all at once, delicious to touch and to look at. However, they are not only two splendid polarities of erotic attraction. They can serve for something else. Notably, they can provide a deliciously soft and satiny sheath for the master's prick. That is what you're going to do ... right away!"
She stared at me as if she did not comprehend a word. Smiling cruelly, I went on: "Approach a little more now, and then take your titties from underneath so as to lift them a bit. Now approach them together. Then, you'll lower yourself slightly so that my prick no longer lodges between them; then press them tightly together to pinch my prick between them. After that, you'll make them stir gently, while moving your bosom up and down, so as to frig my cock with your two lovely titties!"
While I thus instructed her, Caroline's face took on a mask of horrified revulsion.
"No! Ohh! No ... no ... no!"
"Come on now, approach and do what I've just explained," I said threateningly.
"Oh, pi ... please, sir ... I couldn't ... I couldn't ... oh, I beg of you!" she choked, staring at me in the most appealing way you can imagine.
I'll
"I shall give you exactly ten seconds, Caroline," I replied.
"Oooohh! No ... ohh! No ... I can't ... no, not that ... it ... it's frightful!" she began to cry, and half rose.
As you can imagine, I was in a state of ferocious excitement, and so with feverish impatience I awaited that contact which I divined would be so infinitely soft and caressing, the clenching pressure of her two beautiful titties against my huge throbbing cock.
To be sure, I hadn't really counted on an immediate realization of my desire, nor one that would take place at once, docilely and without discussion. But the very notion that my chaste, haughty new pupil might perform that erotic perversion on me without hesitation was so stirring that I absolutely wanted her to do it to me right away.
However, Caroline didn't seem to be so disposed; half risen, half squatting, she stared at me with the frightened eyes of an animal caught in a trap.
My frustration was suddenly too great; I quickly leaned over her and, seizing her by her long hair, I dragged her violently toward me, making her cry out and struggle, while I gloatingly rubbed her face against my huge penis and my hairy balls.
Then, as she kept struggling and even clawed my thighs, rage submerged me and, ferociously tugging her hair back, I cried, my face stuck up against hers, my gaze plunging into her terror-dilated eyes: "Very well, little bitch, you asked for it, you're going to get it!"
"Pity-pity-" she began to sob while I forced her to rise, dragging her up by her hair, and forcing her over to a leather armchair, I flung her with her belly over the elbow-rest. To be sure, she struggled wildly but quite in vain; and on that lovely naked backside of hers so deliriously upreared by the posture I forced her to retain as I twisted one of her arms behind her back, I began to apply a hail of dry, crisp smacks, applied with my palm and using all the strength of my arm.
Her buttocks were still severely reddened and swollen by all I had made them endure that morning, soon turning as burning a scarlet hue as hell itself.
Caroline yelled and screeched with all the power of her young lungs, and her long, sensually exciting legs waved wildly in empty space as she tried to kick free, while her bottomglobes bounded under my smacks, sometimes contracting till the shadowy groove leading to her virgin asshole almost disappeared, then yawning to expose that dainty, hairy little hole and the base of the plump slit of her cunt, all in the vain hope of attenuating the suffering which kindled a burning fire throughout that voluptuous backside of hers.
Without letting myself be softened by the plaints and shrieks she endlessly emitted, I continued to give her a spanking of exemplary vigor. "I've already told you that a slave must obey, Caroline," I sermonized as I pitilessly smacked that beautiful ass which was now as red as a ripe tomato. "And so long as you don't obey you shall be severely chastised!"
But soon my hand began to burn and hurt me. As I didn't care for that, I halted the correction, to Caroline's great relief, she believing I had finished with her. What an error that was on her part!
Leaving her to sob and cry over the arm of the chair, so crushed that she didn't even seek to rise, I strode to my dressing table and seized a hairbrush, an oval brush with a rather long handle. Holding it like a little racket, I returned to my disobedient pupil and, placing a hand at the hollow of her loins to immobilize her, I raised my arm and applied the back of the brush against her crimson buttocks.
It smacked like a pistol shot on that burning skin, and it must have hurt a great deal, for my pupil kicked frenziedly and uttered a piercing shriek. My prick gave a convulsive jerk of pleasure, and I applied a second smack as biting as the first on that swollen bottom.
"Well, Caroline, have you changed your mind? You'll tell me when you'll agree to using your big titties to give me pleasure. But take your time, I'm in no hurry," and I applied another smack with the back of-the brush, this time right at the base of her behind, near the thighs.
The pain was so scorching that it cut off her breath, but as soon as she had regained it, she resumed wailing out her torment ... the torment of her charming behind. I gave her another good smack, right over the lower curves of those fiery-red bottomglobes of hers, with all my might. And through the shrieks which filled the room, I gathered that she was trying to tell me something.
I stopped smacking her behind, and recovering my own quickened, panting breath, I waited for more coherent words. But almost with haste, terrified at the idea of receiving more blows from the hairbrush, Caroline, while continuing to sob heartrendingly, gave involuntary vent to her physical reactions from that thrashing; her scarlet buttocks relaxed their contracting tension, yawning to reveal to me that dainty pink bunghole aureoled with a fine wreath of hairs.
Decidedly, there's nothing like the whip or a good spanking to master the most recalcitrant and most modest pupils!
I bent over to take better note of the intimate furrow of this lovely little Miss shaken with tears and sobs, while I slowly rubbed my fiercely swollen cock; then with a lubricious smile, I straightened up over that yawning backside, and this time, turning the brush to the side with its long nylon bristles, with a sudden deft turn of my wrist I brought the bristles down right into the girl-slave's asshole!
A veritable bellow of agony rose from the armchair, and under that hideous suffering which seemed to tear her anus to shreds, Caroline lunged out of my grasp and fell onto the rug, gripping her bottom with both hands and crying like one possessed.
I let her appease as best she could her torment; then, when her cries began to diminish, I ordered her to kneel once more, hands again behind her nape.
Still overwhelmed by what I had made her endure, the young English beauty nevertheless hastened to obey and placed herself in the indicated position.
"If I still obtain only disobedience from you, Caroline," I told her gruffly, "I wam you that I'll take you back to the Room of Punishments and administer a whipping that you'll remember till the end of your life. Is that understood, Caroline?"
"Oh! Y ... yes ...'s ... sir ... y ... yes ... I promise you to obey"
"Very well, my darling, then let's go back to the bed and do what I explained to you, give me pleasure with your lovely titties!"
A moment later, Caroline found herself kneeling between my naked thighs, trying to keep her face as far as possible away from my huge prick which dangled heavily before her tear-drowned eyes. However, the fear of the whip made her act against her very visible revulsion and the obscene affront to her innate modesty. What an exquisite moment when her two soft warm titties were pressed against my cock, providing a wonderfully satiny sheath for it!
"Very good," I complimented her to encourage her. "Now, frig me up and down, keeping your titties nicely squeezed together. All right, go ahead! Unless, of course, you don't think your bottom has had enough yet?"
Her eyes closed to shut out the sight of my enormous prong which emerged obscenely between those two white globes, she began, sobbing with powerless shame, to manipulate her breasts gently in a soft friction and to undulate her body from upwards down, rather jerkily at the beginning, then according to a slow rhythmic cadence.
I spread my thighs still more to give her more room, and I leaned back on the bed to relish the better these marvelous sensations which, through my throbbing, huge cock, invaded every fiber of my being.
As inexperienced as Caroline's first tittie-manipulation showed itself to be, it nonetheless did not take very long before I felt the infallible ticklings which announced the approach of orgasm.
The soft warmth of her body pressed between my thighs, the fact that I was able to compel her to perform that obscene ritual, augmented and unchained my pleasure, as much as did the fact of hearing her sob with useless revolt and feel her tears moisten my big prickhead-which, by the by, they helped, much as an unguent would, my rubbing along that resilient, soft warm sheath. And my gasps of lustful ecstasy mingled with her groans of shame and horror.
Suddenly, to prevent a much too rapid termination of the rut I felt surge along my prick, I pushed her away. I didn't want to go off so quickly, not this first sweet time with haughty Caroline! She remained squatting on her haunches, trembling violently.
"It will be better soon," I told her, my voice hoarse and panting, but of course she didn't answer, for the situation had nothing joyful in it for her. I allowed my erotic emotions to ebb a little, then I gave, the young girl the order to resume caressing me with her titties. She showed a rather perceptible hesitation, then again I felt those sweet warm globes voluptuously squeeze against my cock, and then she resumed her undulations, pressing her titties together with both her slim soft hands against the burning stiffness of my massive ramrod.
Her head bent down, she seemed hypnotized by the enormous, glistening cockhead which rhythmically emerged from between her bubbies and whose large gism-slit seemed to split in two, exuding thick viscous drops as testimony of the intensity of my rut.
Suddenly, I felt it was mounting inexorably; I abandoned myself and cried out with my orgasmic crescendo. But I suspected that Caroline was not yet sufficiently trained to endure that culminating moment of my pleasure without rebelling. I was certain she could not endure it, in spite of all the threats with which I had confronted her.
And so, when I felt my moment was at hand, I suddenly gripped her between my knees, and, plunging both hands into her disheveled hair, viciously pressed her against my belly, while I jerked my loins back and forth to bring about the orgasm.
Maddened, Caroline began to cry out and to struggle, but in vain; suddenly, braying out in glorious rut, I felt myself spurt my essence.
My spunk spattered forcibly against Caroline's titties and neck, and, most of all, full against her face. Almost ill and beside herself with abhorrence, she felt my thick warm splashings moisten her eyes already wet with tears, besmear her nose and enter her mouth as she opened it to cry out her horror.
After that sensational discharge, I remained a long moment on the bed, mulling over the intense delight I had known, while at my feet, Caroline, plunged into abysmal shame and disgust, sobbed heartbrokenly, her face glistening with tears, saliva and gism.
* * *
General Narrative
And while Caroline Martin thus harshly learned her future status as love-slave back in London, he who was later to become her master went to a rendezvous with Lady Fiona Savage to receive fresh news of his future victim.
Naturally, during lunch, all the conversation turned around Caroline. Since the day when he had concluded with Lady Fiona that strange bargain which we know, the two of them had already had several friendly meetings, since no concern or reticence could hamper the directness of their discussions.
"Can you tell me what's become of Caroline?" Basil Rothborg asked as he sipped his sherry.
Lady Fiona replied, with an amused smile, "I suspected, my dear friend, that your invitation to lunch was prompted by the curiosity you have over your future ... property. Well, frankly. I've scarcely anything new to tell you since the last time. But I ought to have a dispatch from the organization before the week is out, and I think it will contain photographs ... quite interesting to you."
Basil Rothberg felt his heart quicken its beat at the thought of these photographs.
"Tell me, dear Fiona, are you sure that Caroline is punished ... every day?"
"Oh, so far as that's concerned, I can assure you of it without fear of being wrong! During the first phase of her training, she's whipped in every way and without the slightest pity, for the slightest peccadillo!"
"Good! That's very good!" he smilingly approved.
"Besides, even if she committed not a single fault, the Countess has decreed a rule for all training of slaves which stipulates that every new pupil shall be whipped every morning when she gets up and every night before she goes to bed. That is the ordinary regime in the first educational stage, but, of course, during the day any lack of discipline is punished by a whipping. You see that your Caroline is in good hands!"
He agreed with a nod before asking for a further point of information. "Those whippings-are they normally applied on her behind ... her bare behind?"
Lady Fiona gave him an affirmative smile. "Yes, most of them. But certain others are applied on other parts of her naked body ... other very sensitive parts ... you understand me?"
"Yes, indeed! But it must hurt terribly. She certainly mustn't like that very much!"
"That's for sure, but it's the best way of ridding her of her natural arrogance," Lady Fiona replied.
"And who has charge of applying these various corrections?" he asked again.
"The Countess, or Jason, her assistant; that depends with whom Caroline is being trained at the time."
He enviously shook his head. "Jason really has the luck!"
"As you yourself can imagine," Lady Fiona vouchsafed, "a young girl as proud and as sensitive as Caroline Martin must find it much more unpleasant to be whipped by a man than by a woman. And I don't think that, when the time comes, she'll find it more pleasant to be whipped by you, my dear Basil. All of which promises you many agreeable moments, wouldn't you agree?"
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
General Narrative
While in London Basil Rothberg dreamed of the day when they would at last deliver to him the young woman he intended to make his body-slave, at Ben-Abar Caroline's training progressively continued. She had changed a good deal since her arrival at that desolate locale. She had given up the pride, insolence, stormy nature and snobbery which had furnished such tidbits of gossip for the London papers. Now, after two weeks of intensive training, she had become obedient, submissive and gentle as should be every slave dedicated to the service of an authoritative and perverse master.
To be sure, from time to time, there were still a few little revolts, a few little refusals, but all these were swiftly annihilated under the effects of a violent punishment with martinet or switch.
Under Jason's severe tutelage, Caroline had learned to use her lovely breasts to give her teacher pleasure. She had also learned how to caress his penis with her hands and her mouth. But there was one thing which she had not yet done to his taste, and we shall look in on them today in Jason's room, as the daily lesson is about to begin....
* * *
"Well, Caroline, I hope you're going to be very obedient today and not oblige me to punish you again. Come, lovely little slave, kneel down and begin to play with my penis!"
Caroline Martin knelt before Jason's armchair, and having opened the folds of his robe, began to fondle and caress his heavy organ, still in a state of somnolent flaccidity.
"Isn't it nice to frig a big prick like mine?" he asked, smiling at the embarrassment which his remark caused his beautiful pupil. "Well, are you mute today? Do you want a good slap to untie your tongue?"
"Y ... yes ... y ... yes m ... master!" Caroline hastened to reply, while she kept on softly massaging his phallus, which now began to thicken and expand.
"What's this 'yes'? You mean you want a slap?"
"No! No! I ... I meant, it-it's nice, master, to ... to ... f ... frig your big penis," she stammered.
"Little pervert!" he chuckled. "I know very well you like that, in spite of your airs of a holy virgin. That's why you're going to learn to suck better, for till now you've made scarcely any progress in this kind of pleasure. You will therefore take my prick into your mouth and frig me with your soft lovely lips till I discharge ... right into your sweet mouth. But beware-if you don't succeed, and if you don't swallow it all or spit any of it out, you'll regret it, Caroline!"
She began to implore her tormentor: "Oh, no, s ... sir! Oh, please, sir, n ... not that! Oh, it ... it's not g-good-it-it will make me vomit again!"
Jason smilingly regarded her, but without a word, like a cat that scans the mouse he plans to devour. He stood up, and with a frightfully obscene gesture, took his huge cock between his fingers and slapped her face with it from left to right, then from right to left, several times. "I don't doubt, you little whore, that you prefer to use your titties. But what I want is for you to take my spunk in your mouth. Come now, on the bed, we'll be more comfortable for what I want of you!"
Caroline burst into tears and tried to restrain him by circling his knees with her arms and kissing his stiffened ramrod, while pleading in a despairing voice: "No! Oh, ... no ... no!"
Stooping over her, his hands gripping her by her tresses, he dragged her face up towards him. "Then it still takes stern measures to make you obey. Decidedly, Caroline, you're incorrigible. Well, so much the worse for you, my beauty!"
She began to sob in despair, her face upturned with a piteously imploring mien.
"All right," he chuckled, "I'm going to show you indulgence. Not the switch today. I shall, instead, make you taste something which is still unknown to you."
So saying, he disengaged himself from the pitiful clutch of her satiny bare arms, and went to his dressing table, from which he picked up a flask of cologne water and a wad of cotton before returning to seat himself on the edge of the bed, and then ordered Caroline to come stretch out across his knees as if to receive a spanking.
Sniffling with apprehension, without quite knowing what was going to happen to her, but assuming correctly that it was hardly going to be pleasant, the young girl approached her cruel teacher. He showed her the flask. "That's cologne water at 80 degrees," he said succinctly, with a sadistic grin. Do you like cologne water, Caroline? You don't answer? It's not important. I'm going to teach you to like it, as you'll see!"
And as Caroline, in her fright, again began to beg him for mercy, he repeated in a tone that did not brook reply to stretch out across his knees. Then, calmly, he uncorked the flask and poured a copious portion into the wad of cotton. Then turning his attention to his naked victim stretched flat on her belly over his lap in the position of a naughty child about to be spanked, he slyly yawned her buttocks apart and before she had time to realize what he was doing, he buried the cotton wad between the lips of her anus, thrusting it down deep into her rectum with his thumb.
For a few instants the stupefied captive remained motionless; then suddenly the alcohol produced its effect, and a horrible burning sensation seared the sensitive mucous membrane of her anus, provoking an abominable torture.
Shrieking with her suffering, poor Caroline flung her arms behind her to try to rip out the diabolical suppository he had just buried, but Jason swiftly gripped both her wrists in his left hand, while with the other he ferociously squeezed her buttocks together to prevent her rejecting the tampon.
Her bottomhole the prey of hell's own fire, Caroline uttered frenzied shrieks as she kicked her legs furiously in the air, wriggling in the most feverish, uncontrollable way over her executioner's lap; though he had a great deal of trouble in maintaining her in place, his compensation was the furious erection which was caused by his joy at the notion of subjecting her to such hideous agony.
And it was certainly true that the young girl suffered, perhaps much more than under the kisses of the terrible whalebone. Her shrieks, interspersed with cries and sobs, deafeningly filled the entire room.
"Well now, my beauty, do you like it? It's good, isn't it?" Jason laughed sadistically. And as poor Caroline kept on uttering incomprehensible babbling pleas and screams, he cruelly added: "You will keep it inside your bunghole, my beauty, till you've decided yourself to blow me off in your sweet mouth, do you hear?"
Her body shaken by violent tremors of agony, her leg's kicking frantically, Caroline vainly strove to get up and escape his grasp, for he had released her wrists only to lock both arms round her satiny waist. Her face contorted, dripping with agony-sweat, tears and saliva which emerged from a mouth that yawned in venting the mad shrieks of her distress, the young English beauty tried in vain to articulate the few words which alone could put an end to her ordeal. Finally, between two long strident cries, she managed to make Jason understand that she would accept doing what he demanded, if only he would take that horrible cotton wad out of her behind.
At once he released her, and, yawning open her sweating buttocks, tugged out the alcohol-soaked cotton wad which stuck out of her swollen anus; then, rising, he flung her onto the bed, where she continued to writhe and sob and complain, for the dreadful inflammation of those delicate mucous membranes could not be eased in a moment or two, even though that cologne water-soaked tampon was no longer inside her rectum.
So it was only at the end of a long, shuddering eternity of hell for her that, destroyed and nearly fainting from her torment, she was at last able to regain consciousness of what now awaited her.
"Well, Caroline, have you decided to obey without arguing now, or do you care for a second tampon?"
"Oh, no I'm going to obey, I'm going to suck you!" the subjugated young girl sobbed.
"Very well, but pay attention to my warning," he scolded with a severe glare, "if you don't swallow every drop of sperm this time, I'll immediately give you an enema of a full quart of cologne water!"
Uttering a groan of terror, Caroline hid her face in her hands and began to weep and lament her anguish, while Jason took off his robe, and climbed naked onto the bed where he stretched out, his penis standing up vertically, like a rod of iron, jerking with the heavy pulsations of his mounting rut.
At his order, Caroline squatted between his legs. "Begin by kissing my balls, and then, caress them gently with your mouth," he commanded in a stern and threatening tone. Knowing that she had nothing to gain by opposing the least resistance to his wishes, Caroline bowed her head and, despite her repugnance, posed a timid kiss on his huge, warm, hairy balls. His hands set down on her head and forced her lovely face against his monstrous organ. Thus coerced to obey-for her daily chastisements had already greatly dissipated her readiness to revolt-Caroline now began to lick his testicles very gently, her cheeks pressed against his muscular naked thighs.
"My prick now!"
She lifted her head a little and momentarily hesitated at the sight of the violently swollen purplish meatus, glistening with its tension and vibrating in convulsive little tremors that proclaimed Jason's savagely aroused and bestial passion. Then her charming face lowered over the heavy penis and the rank, hot odor of his cock filled her quivering nostrils as her open lips brushed the thick plumhead of his weapon, then let it slip between them, as in the orifice of a welcoming vulva. For, indeed, Jason knew, much better than the London society beauty, that this obscene act symbolized the yielding of her cunt to prick-a demand soon to be made upon her! And he gloated to behold the degradation to which he pitilessly compelled her as a further token of his mastery as her trainer.
Her cheeks swollen by the presence of that awkward guest, the lovely Miss recoiled a little; and it was only when Jason again threatened her with a whipping that she consented to suck that massive structure of lust-flesh, somewhat like a little girl's tasting a sweetmeat; but that was not enough to satisfy her exigent trainer, who pressed down on her head to force her to swallow more of his huge prong. "To the roots!" he ordered, arching up his loins to force his ramrod up the more. Caroline hiccupped, choked as that enormous instrument thrust her tongue back into her very gullet, and in her fright at the sudden nausea that seized her, her fingers clawed his belly.
"You little whore," he snarled, shoving her back, "you still obstinately carry on your little games, when most girls would ask nothing better than to be allowed to suck so beautiful a prick! Very well, my dove, we'll proceed in a different way, but I urge you to believe that if you once again raise any obstacle to my pleasure, I'll take you to the Countess who will give you a little treatment all her own, and that's all I'll say to you. Now then, stretch out, I'll teach you how to French!"
Sniffling with fear, Caroline nonetheless obeyed. Jason knelt astride her and lowered his naked buttocks against her panting breasts till he flattened them, while his heavy prick, glistening with her saliva, swung over her terrified face. Suddenly he put himself on all fours and, lowering himself, brought his thick phallus down to her closed lips. His organ grazed and rubbed her cheeks, nose, chin, then again pressed against her mouth which opened to emit a cry of protest. Taking favorable advantage of that reaction, Jason thrust forward, burying his prick in his young victim's mouth, and pitilessly forced it on up to the very hilt!
Her breathing choked off by the thick structure of the lance which clogged her mouth and palate, her jaws painfully distended, her lips spread around the thick breadth of that pulsating spear which pitilessly nailed her to the pillow, Caroline was shaken by retchings of nausea, but could do nothing to ease that dreadful mouthful.
Her eyes, dilated by horror and disgust, tried to turn supplicating towards her executioner, but all they beheld was his hairy belly. A raucous wheeze emerged from her quavering nostrils, for no sound could pass from her distended mouth, filled so vastly by that rigid, thick, hard-veined male ramrod.
Jason slowly drew himself halfway out, then, with a groan of pleasure, buried himself back to the hilt inside her defenseless mouth, forcing himself up to her gagging gullet. His face bent down so he might better scrutinize the exciting tableau of Caroline's suffocating, tear-bathed face, he began to fuck her in the mouth, heedless of the scratches her frantically groping fingers inflicted on him in her terror and her mad urge to regain her breath.
The heavy jabs of his meatus against her vulva tore dull, gasping groans from the unfortunate girl; her face was frightfully congested and streaming with tears. At that moment, had she been given a choice, she would unhesitatingly have preferred a whipping rather than to endure any longer this bestial treatment; but all the same, Jason's enormous prick kept digging back and forth inside her mouth, so violently it seemed to her it would penetrate down into her very windpipe, and her heart thudded madly each time it savagely thrust home ... it lasted a long, a very long time.
Ready to faint, overcome by a frenzied urge to vomit, Caroline suddenly felt his organ swell still more between her aching jaws. Knowing what that meant and what was going to happen, she uttered a raucous moan through her palpitating nostrils and, summoning up her last remnants of strength, tried to arch up and upset him. But the trainer, who had begun to bellow his approaching ecstasy, bore down with all his weight on his victim, covering her face with his belly and pubic mane, and with this movement dug his prick into her very gullet, literally strangling her with the powerful and copious spurts of his hot, milky spunk.
Thus suffocated, Caroline's body jerked frenetically, and she fainted dead away while his enormous fleshly syringe continued to pump out bubbling gobbets of spermatic liqueur.
* * *
A long while afterwards, Jason, who had finally freed his pupil, took notice of her deplorable condition. He bathed her temples with a cold water compress, made her inhale smelling salts, then gave her a revivifying injection, for he was used to such a reaction from the unfortunate pupils when he subjected them to mouth-fucking. But instead of pitying her, he announced to the dazed and crushed Caroline that he was going to report her bad deportment to the Countess so that the latter might punish her as she deserved.
* * *
Now, naked and sobbing, Caroline had prostrated herself in the Countess' office, her palms and face pressed flat on the waxed floor, and her buttocks upreared in the pose which had been taught to her during her educational s'ances. Dressed in black as was her won't, the Countess stared cruelly at the young girl motionless at her feet. Standing behind Caroline, a smile lighting his evil face, was Jason, clad in black trousers and a white silk shirt and thin red leather sandals.
"Is the position correct, Jason?" The Countess asked as she half-turned toward her assistant.
"It could be better," he pronounced in a calm voice. "However, let's not be too demanding with her, we must recognize that she's making progress. See how well she shows us her big slit and that dinty little bunghole of hers! Would you have thought she could do that a few weeks ago, Madame?"
"It's true that she has a very lovely cunt," the Countess remarked as she bent down to stare at Caroline's naked quivering bottom. "But it's too hairy, which spoils everything, for the abundance of that fleece hides part of her vulva. And, look there, her anus is almost entirely hidden by the hairs! That's inadmissible, a slave has absolutely no right to hide anything! You'll tell Greta, my maid, to take care of the matter and depilate this pretty slut completely! I want her cunt as naked as a ten-year-old girl's. Besides, it will be useful in the sense that when she sees her own hairless cunt, it will constantly remind her of her status as a slave. And, oh, yes, Jason, I didn't mention her asshole, but it's understood that this too ought to be as carefully depilated."
"It will be done as you order, Madame!" Jason inclined his head with a vicious smile.
Weeping with confusion and shame, poor Caroline heard the words of her two tormentors and thought of the frightful humiliation thus in store for her. Alas, that wasn't to be all. The voice of the Countess suddenly grew harsher: "Now, let's pass on to what you told me. It appears you had some difficulties in teaching her the art of sucking the male organ?"
"Oh, yes, Madame! Despite the whippings and punishments already administered, I haven't been able to make her correctly swallow semen at the moment it's discharged. She always acts up, whether she rejects the sperm, or tries to make me believe it makes her vomit."
The mistress of Ben-Abar lifted her right hand, armed with a long supple wicker switch, and slashed the lovely bottom, which instantly flattened under the burning cut, while a shriek of agony indicated how badly it had hurt poor Caroline.
"Silence, slave! How dare you address a word to me without having been asked to do so!" the Countess hissed.
"She's not too bad a pupil when it comes to learning, but there remains a great deal more for her to learn before she's perfect," Jason pontificated.
"Ah, you're not severe enough with her, Jason! Very well, I'll take charge of giving her a lesson she'll remember, be certain," the Countess sternly declared. "Tomorrow morning, prepare her on the stretching bars. I'm going to apply a whipping to her slit. And I wager t' at after that little treatment, she'll offer no problems when her trainer does her the honor of spurting in her mouth!"
"I quite agree, Madame," Jason exclaimed, "but I wouldn't want to be in her place."
A wild cry rose from the naked body prostrated at their feet: "Noooooo! Oooooh! No! Not that ... you'll kill me ... oh, nooooo, please, nooooo!!"
The Countess lifted her arm again and with a vigorous twist of her wrist, slashed the switch over Caroline's bottomcheeks, the girl rolling over and over and shrieking in distress. "Take her to Greta and then chain her up till tomorrow," the Countess ordered. Jason bent over his pupil and seized her by her long tresses, to jerk her to her feet. "Come on now, my beauty! We're going to pretty up that darling little cunt you're so proud of. Today, we'll shave it, and tomorrow-tomorrow-"
"Nooo-ohhh nooooo! Ohh noooo! Ohh have pity-pity-ohh have pity on me!"
To make Caroline follow Jason, who was dragging her behind him by her hair, the Countess applied another stroke of the switch, then closed the door of her office on the piercing cries and sobbing supplications which echoed down the corridors of the chateau.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Personal Narrative of Jason Vanwell
Later in the evening, when I called for Caroline whom I had confided to the cares of Greta, the Countess' maid, I found the young Miss with her eyes still red from the many tears she must have shed during the depilation ordered by the directress. I couldn't suppress a little whistle of excitement when my eyes contemplated my charming pupil's cunt.
Caroline's vulva was now as smooth as a baby's cunny, and the absence of any hair emphasized the prominence of her Venus, and above all the accentuated, even unusual setting of the two plump lips of her vulva. Indeed, I could really see for the first time that Caroline was endowed with a highly provocative sexuality; the young lady's cunt peeped out from between her thighs like a mouth with very thick lips, and, still more exciting in my opinion, Caroline had what we in the profession call "a cunt that sticks its tongue out," for between those two thick petals one could see, like a sort of crest, the bright pink fringe of the little inner lips which stuck out like the tongue of a saucy little girl.
The contrast between that elegantly sculptured, well bred young women's body and her deliciously obscene cunt made me shudder with pleasure, for the time was nearing when at last I could assuage my stallion-rut and fuck lovely Caroline all I wanted.
I now seized her again by her thick hair; as I think I've already mentioned, her long hair fell in ringlets to her shoulders, thick but incredibly silky-soft. And I took joy in dragging her behind me along the corridors. I opened the door of the cell and shoved her violently in side, making her stumble onto all fours on the thick gray rug. She remained in that position, her face now buried in her hands, her shoulders shaken by sobs.
"You heard the decision of your mistress," I said severely. "Well, the best you can do is to resign yourself to be chastised just as she promised you." Caroline straightened up on her knees and clasped her hands out to me in a gesture of supplication.
Ah, how things had changed since her arrival at Ben-Abar! Where were those haughty airs now, that indomitable pride, those disdainful mannerisms? Now, in their stead there were tears and humbly murmured supplications. Training by the lash had accomplished a veritable transformation, and the impertinent and impossible Miss Martin was only a lovely naked girl trembling and sniveling like a little child. She crawled to my knees and locked her arms round them, sobbing piteously. How exciting it was! I felt against me the warm firmness of her lovely breasts, and her face was pressed right up against the swelling mound which my stiffening prick made at my crotch.
"I beg you ... I'll do everything you wish ... everything ... I promise you ... but stop her from wh ... whipping me ... out of pity, stop her!"
In her desire to show me her obedience and submission, she began feverishly to kiss the place where my prick grew. I felt like amusing myself a little with her, knowing how much it would cost her proud little soul. "You must understand, Caroline," I explained in a soft, caressing voice, "that if I try to persuade the Countess not to whip you as she intends, I have the right to expect from you a suitable reward. And what I really want-is to fuck you!"
I emphasized the word "fuck," drawing it out to the last nuance of sound, and I had the joy of seeing her turn pale and start with fear.
"Well?" I demanded, observing on her face the struggle that was taking place within her, pitting her revulsion at the thought of being rogered and her terror at the notion of being whipped on her bare cunthole!
"Ooooh! Oooooh, s ... sir ... no ... ohhhh, nooo," she managed to cry out, without really knowing which terrified her the most and being unable to decide such a momentous dilemma.
Again I brutally twisted my fingers in her hair and dragged her head back. "The promises you make come very easily to your mouth, don't they, my pretty one?" I chuckled ferociously, "but when it's time to keep them, you take them back, eh? Very well! I don't see why I'm wasting my time with you, little whore, and so I'm going to chain you up till tomorrow, and then you'll be whipped on your cunt. Whipped as you've never been before, you can take it from me, my beauty!"
Stammering with terror, she again succeeded in clutching my knees with her beautiful bare rounded arms and, summoning all her strength, glued herself to me as I was beginning to lift her to drag her to the couch where she'd Spend the night. And from her cries and pleas, I gathered that she would consent to do everything to escape the lash, really everything.
"Then, you consent to let yourself be fucked, you agree to let me roger you?" I asked as I released her.
"Yes! Ohhh, y ... yes ...'s ... sir, oh yes," she sobbingly groaned.
"That's very nice of you, my beauty," I chuckled, "but now I don't feel like it. You ought to have made up your mind earlier, for now it's too late."
In the midst of her despairing groans and heartfelt petitions, I cut her short by remarking, "However, I'm going to be magnanimous for once. So I'll try to spare you the little morning session on condition that you at once give me a charming little trip around the world. I know that you hardly care for that at all, and that each time I demand it of you, I have to use the whip to get you to obey, but now you've got to do it of your own free will. So, will you consent to sucking my asshole, sucking my bunghole deliriously, answer yes or no!"
Plunged in her morass of despairing shame, unable to utter a single word, Caroline nodded her head as a sign of acceptance, while great tears rolled down her satiny cheeks.
"Very well, my dear," I laughingly replied, "you'll see it's not so terrible as all that. Make me come by using that sweet little tongue of yours the way I ask, and to morrow nothing will happen to you, that's a promise. But remember, try to do it the way I taught you. I want to feel all of your tongue inside my bunghole-and while you're tonguefucking my anus, you'll frig my prick to make the pleasure double!" I purposely used the vilest, crudest words, the better to mortify my lovely, charming Caroline.
Stricken as she was by her terror of that atrocious flogging promised on the morrow, I felt she was going to procure for me the most exquisite moments. Only the thought of that sweet mouth, the mouth of a well brought-up young lady approaching my asshole, was more than enough to make me shudder in rut! Naturally, I had no intention of intervening on her behalf with the Countess to get her off the exemplary chastisement which awaited her. Quite the contrary, I was impatient to see that lovely naked pussy of Caroline's subjected to the cruel kisses of the leather martinet.
As I'd told the Countess, I wouldn't have wanted to be in Caroline's shoes tomorrow morning! What she was going to taste, that lovely Miss! Just thinking of her shrieks, my prick throbbed and slowly swelled to its majestic vigor. Rapidly, I took off my trousers under which I was naked, for in the chateau I never wear underwear, and kept on only my silk shirt which descended only as far as my navel, thus baring my buttocks and my huge sexual weapon for Caroline's tear-filled eyes to behold.
Impatient to taste the pleasures of what is known in the trade as a "feuille de rose," or, to use the English vulgarism, a "trip around the world," I dragged my beautiful pupil toward a huge leather cushion against which I knelt. My torso reposing on this cushion, I put my hands behind me and, grasping my buttocks, widely yawned them to bare my anus to Caroline, who was prostrated behind me. For a moment, nothing happened; then suddenly I felt the warm contact of her face against my buttocks and the humid softness of her tongue on the crinkly crevice of my bunghole, which I opened to the maximum by forcing my muscles as if I intended to have a bowel movement. The relaxing of my sphincter muscles thus enabled Caroline to bury her tongue in the expanded orifice, thanks to my efforts as well as her own saliva.
The extraordinary softness of that lingual penetration which titillated my anus like a miniature velvet cock made me moan with voluptuous bliss, the more so since, solicitous of the obligation to satisfy me fully so she might escape the sentence of her cunt-whipping, Caroline licked and sucked me so feverishly she lost her breath, all the while she deliciously caressed my prick with her soft hands passed between my straddled thighs.
Never before had Caroline Martin so exquisitely given me this trip around the world. Only the most furious thrashings or switchings which I had pitilessly imposed on her had been able, till now, to incite her to proffer this so eminently obscene ceremonial. It wasn't hard to understand that now it was only the fear of what awaited her tomorrow which forced her towards such abject and humiliating submission. But the most exciting thing of all was that while she continued to gouge my anus with her tongue and suck it as reverently as I might have wished, she continued to weep from her despondent shame, and so the furrow of my buttocks which I kept constantly yawned apart with both hands was moistened as much by her tears as by her saliva.
Since I held myself back as long as possible to savor the thrilling nuances of her caresses, Caroline began to pant from exhaustion, so that when I felt the uncontrollable spasm of ejaculation near me, her fatigued tongue was unable to harden itself sufficiently to keep gouging my bunghole deeply, being content to rasp all along my anal cleft and especially over my asshole. Ah, what a treat to feel that warm, velvety, wet, trembling tongue thus salute the most animal part of my body, that which was excretory and yet now became the temple of her enforced erotic adoration!
She continued to frig my prick and tickle my balls with both hands, and when I felt myself ready to spurt my gism, I let go of my buttocks and gripping her from behind by her hair, I forced her face tightly against my bottom so she could continue her sucking while my spunk furiously jetted into her hands and over the leather cushion.
After a moment I wriggled my backside to push her face away, and I rose, regarding with great amusement that naked young beauty crushed by her shame and distress as she remained prostrated on the rug without daring to budge.
"All right, Caroline, get up! I must tie you up for the night, that's an order from the Countess, you know. Stand up, and come here so I can put this pretty collar round your soft neck."
With unexpected docility, Caroline came to stretch out on the low couch to which I gestured and of her own accord extended her neck so I might fit on the thick leather collar fixed to a steel chain which in turn was sealed into the cell wall.
Sir ... sir ... sir ... y ... you'll speak to the Countess?" she stammered in an anxious tone, turning towards me her lovely face which was still humid with saliva and sweat and reddened from its suffocating pressure against my bare bottom.
"Since you've been obedient, I'll speak to the Countess, you may be sure, Caroline," I promised her in a gentle voice, so she'd go to sleep in a state of false security. Before leaving her, however, the sight of her plump naked hairless cunt inspired me to a sudden caprice, that of making her frig herself off like a perverse little schoolgirl. So I made her stretch out on her back and ordered her to straddle her legs and draw her knees back to her breasts. Kneeling near the bench, my face near her pink cunthole, I opened the soft petals of that exquisite orifice with the fingers of my left hand, while my hand drew one of her hands towards her slit.
"Frig yourself now," I ordered, and when she emitted timid protests, I told her harshly that if she did not frig herself as I'd ordered and didn't spend before my eyes, not only would I not speak to the Countess to remit her sentence but I would at once give her twenty strokes of the strap on her bare behind.
Trembling with fear, Caroline uttered a powerless groan and slowly began to masturbate herself. Decidedly, the fear of the lash was the finest argument for convincing and humbling this beautiful slave, I thought with satisfaction. My face very close to her gaping cunny, I watched with intense pleasure as her slim finger began to graze the rosy humid pussy flesh, then lingered over her astonishingly stiffened clitoris, the more prominent because no hair hid it from my gaze.
In spite of her innate modesty and upbringing, Caroline could not struggle against nature, and she began to sigh while a little glistening liqueur moistened her agilely moving finger.
Quite excited myself despite the frenzied spending I had so recently achieved, I kissed her satiny thighs, while with the tips of my fingers I spread apart her plump pussylips, bare and swollen as those of a young negress.
Her thighs flexed, contracted; her reddening clitoris now stiffened like a tiny prick; I then pushed away her hand and my fingers closed on that dainty little nodule and began to frig it swiftly.
Panting gasps escaped her throat, and her buttocks lifted off the bench, while my greedy, narrowed eyes clearly perceived her slit palpitating, opening and closing like the vulva of a mare in heat! Ah, she was hot, that little bitch, and she wasn't faking it, for all her modest airs of a holy virgin!
Now I had her clitoris between my thumb and index finger and I rolled it between them and pulled it out, I pinched it savagely till she cried out, then I dug it back into its soft hidden cowl of sweet pink love flesh before I resumed frigging it between my two fingers as if it were a tiny prick!
I raised my face to watch her reactions, which were well worth the trouble. Her eyes revulsing, her nostrils flaring, her lips curled back like an animal at bay, the young beauty, obviously swept by sensual pleasure, had forgotten for this instant her regrettable status as a slave and captive. Her body wriggled on the low couch, her bottomcheeks lifted up and weaved and writhed, and in a pantingly raucous voice she announced the moment of spending all her girl-cream! To accentuate it and because her naked cunthole wildly roused me, I fused my mouth to that palpitating vulva and, taking her hardened little love button between my lips, I sucked it in as violently as if I wanted to tear it out!
The lovely Miss uttered a shrill cry, and in a series of spasmodic groans and moans, while her plump cunthole seemed to thrust itself out as if to swallow all my tongue, I felt my face saturated by the warm, sticky emission of her pussycream!
I drew back a little, watching her red, congested, furiously wet vulva; then after I had wiped my mouth on her bare thighs, I left the cell and let her descend into the sweet oblivion of her orgasm. I owed her that much, especially in view of what awaited her the next day....
* * *
I had come to waken her, I had released her collar so she might proceed to her ablutions, makeup and other more intimate needs; then a servant had brought her her lunch on a tray, and now I had just coldly announced to her that I had not been able to obtain a reprieve and that she must prepare herself to endure the whip.
Persuaded that after her compliance the night before she would go scot free, Caroline suffered a terrible shock from my words. For a moment she remained silent, dazed, not wanting to believe the horrible news; then suddenly, to my great pleasure, she burst into noisy lamentations of terror: "Noooooo!!! Noooo!!! Ooooh! ... No ... ohhhh ... pittyyyyyyy-ohhh, no ... ooooooh ... ooohhh ... nooooo!!!"
And when I took her arms to drag her to the discipline room where the Countess awaited us, she began to implore me, to stammer prayers, to supplicate me, and then to cry in terror and despair, trying to escape my grasp.
I had to put my hand between her thighs and then, clenching my fingers against her hairless cunthole, I lifted her from the floor, seizing her titties with my other hand to vanquish her resistance and lead her where she would pay the price for her bad will and learn that in every circumstance and no matter what was asked of her, she must obey instantly, as befitted a well trained slave.
Once inside the punishment room and having bolted the door, I dumped Caroline onto the rug.
The Countess already awaited us, clad only in a black lace corselet and long polished black kid boots. In her hand, she had the flagellatory implement-specially selected for this exceptional session: a long martinet with a leather handle and six supple, gleaming leather thongs, slightly rubbed with vaseline so as not to tear the skin yet capable of inflicting intolerable agony.
When Caroline's exorbitant eyes fixed on that sinister object, she could not suppress a prolonged cry of terror, and fell on her knees.
The Countess regarded her severely: "I'm going to whip you, Miss Martin, and whip you severely this time," she explained in an icy voice. "The reason is that, though you have made certain progress since your arrival here, you are not supple enough nor obedient enough, and this I cannot tolerate. This whipping will, I hope, inspire you to show a little more submission. However, if it does not correct your faults, it will be repeated again . , . repeated till I judge the result amply satisfactory!"
During this little speech, Caroline remained kneeling, uttering little groans choked with tears, her eyes widened and her face contorted by terror. It seemed to me she had no longer the strength to react, yet suddenly she began to cry out in a lamentable tone: "I-I beg of you to kill me ... kill me right away ... don't torture me any more ... I can't endure it!"
The Countess arched her penciled eyebrows in sardonic surprise: "To kill you is the very last thing we would want to do. On the contrary, we desire that you remain very much alive and alert. You have a body marvelously endowed to give pleasure to others, and the fact is that here we are commissioned to teach you precisely how to give that pleasure. That is particularly true for your future master. So you see we have no intention whatsoever of killing you, my dear."
She paused to let that ironic explanation sink in, then sibilantly commended: "All right, Jason, attach her to the straddling bars."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
General Narrative
The "straddling bars" were formed by two solid stakes of sturdy oak planted vertically against a sort of little platform and about six feet apart. This platform, four steps high, was covered with thick red velvet.
Jason, who had lifted Caroline and carried her to the platform, posed her on the red covering, then drew her forward towards the edge of the little platform till her bare behind was almost sticking out into empty space. As she clung to the edge, he seized her wrists and locked them in metal rings set into the floor; then he grasped her ankles and bent her knees toward her bosom.
Caroline felt her legs thus reversed, suddenly stretched and dragged out to each side of her body; leather straps fixed round her ankles pinioned them up very high to the two wooden stakes in such a way that the only thing one saw was the interior of her hairless vulva, lewdly gaped apart to show the exquisitely rosy canal of the vagina, and, a little lower down, the dainty crinkly fissure of her anus, it too stretched and tautened by this atrociously uncomfortable posture.
Terrorized, the unfortunate Caroline saw by raising her head that the Countess was climbing the four steps of the little platform, and, curiously, that which terrified her most was not the long martinet dangling from the latter's hand but rather her half-nudity.
Till now, she had always seen the Countess severely clad in black, yet now she discovered that this woman who so greatly terrified her was really very attractive. Above her, Caroline could perceive the long legs and powerful thighs parting to disclose the abundant dark love tufts which did not quite conceal the thick dark lips of her slit, for the Countess posed one foot on a lower step and the other waist-high, and this straddle allowed the unhappy victim to behold the somber mystery of the Countess' sex as well as the round, soft amplitude of those two beautiful buttocks which the black lace corselet accentuated both as to skin contrast and voluptuous curves.
For a moment, the Countess contented herself with staring at the naked, yawningly open vulva before her, then she smiled and, turning to Jason who stood motionless and impatient opposite the platform for the beginning of his pupil's ordeal, she remarked: "She's really spread open, and this depilation emphasizes the shape and form of the sex, doesn't it, Jason?"
"Yes, Madame," he acquiesced, smiling in his turn.
"Pity ... pityyyyyy-" Caroline suddenly began to plead. "Pity-I-I'll do everything you wish ... I'll obey ... I promise you ... I'll obey ... oh, have pity on me. Don't whip me ... I implore you!"
The only response of the Countess was to raise her martinet and with a dry jerk of her wrist to lower the leather thongs straight down against the trembling naked Caroline's defenseless cunthole!
* * *
The Countess then began to administer the strokes of the martinet with implacable precision ... each lash was inflicted slowly, but with all the strength of her arm.
Caroline's inhuman shrieks were almost unbearable to hear and resounded from one wall to the other in the Room of Punishments. Her head lifted, her neck stretched tautly enough to snap, her mouth gaping to utter veritable demented clamoring.
Jason, standing, arms crossed like a magistrate, regarded Caroline's martyrdom with his pale glazed eyes; the only sign by which one could divine his inner emotions being a nervous tic which continuously twitched his right cheek.
The lashes of the martinet had reached a total of five...! then, ten.
The multiple, implacable bites of those long leather thongs had already terribly lacerated the tender flesh of Caroline's defenseless vulva. Her cunthole was striped by thin livid swellings, and the horribly swollen lips seemed ready to burst, but the martinet had been made of a sufficiently supple leather to avoid any grave wound, and moreover the thongs had been greased to prevent cutting the mucous membranes of that female sex.
Hence the instrument permitted the dominatress to prolong the victim's suffering as much as she liked, without the risk of uselessly marring her tortured flesh, and so the atrocious flagellation continued....
Ssslllaasshhh!!!
"Aaaggghhhooowww!!!"
Sss-sllaaassshhh!!!
"Aaaggghhh ... ooohhh!!!"
One by relentless one, the lashes had now fallen fifteen times.
Panting with ferocious rut, Jason admired the unfortunate Caroline's endurance, endurance derived less from her own innate courage than from the double injection he had himself applied before taking her from her cell.
The agonized shrieks of the unfortunate young girl whose body incessantly shook and jerked with implacable suffering punctuated each pitiless stroke from the Countess' martinet, till, just before the twentieth lash and after a long strident plaint, Caroline fainted.
The Countess, her forehead damp with sweat and her breath coming in panting gasps, lowered her arm and, finding her hand also moist, wiped it on her corselet, her eyes fixed on the victim's martyrized vulva.
Not only the cuntlips, but the interior of the thighs and buttocks, were streaked with long pink weals imprinted by the thongs. Under the afflux of blood which swelled the tender membrane of the orifice, poor Caroline's clitoris had hardened and was insolently erect, but certainly not from pleasure! From pain, yes, for that tiny pistil of love flesh was very red and swollen from the lashing.
Also, thanks to the hugely straddled legs of the victim, the anus had had its ample share of that atrocious chastisement. The horribly darkened rosebud of the anal cleft surged up in the groove between the girl's buttocks like a dark molehill.
The Countess raised her head and, without leaving her position above Caroline, glanced at her assistant and ordered: "Make her breathe smelling salts."
"Very good, Madame," Jason replied as he moved to a little table from which he took a tiny bottle of dark glass. In a few moments, the acrid exhalations of the salts restored consciousness to the unfortunate young girl who burst into sobs when she realized again what was being done to her.
When the Countess was certain that her victim had had all her sensitivity and awareness restored, she lifted the terrible martinet and, again with all her strength, directed it between the lovely Miss's thighs, and once again Caroline's hideous screams reverberated through the Room of Punishments.
Five more lashes slashed with a muffled thwack over the vulva and the anus of the beautiful English girl, before, once again under the frenetic agony which made her writhe convulsively on the red velvet, she fainted.
The Countess smiled and again commanded, "The salts, Jason!" And once again he shoved the little dark bottle under the pinched nostrils and the victim came to, crying out in terror.
And then again, without the slightest sign of pity, the Countess raised the martinet and resumed flogging that tender female cunthole, while Caroline's hideous bleatings and screechings took on the most inhuman portent. Five more lashes as violent as those which had preceded this new attack brought Caroline Martin's torment to culmination, driving her almost mad ... and for the third time, the young English captive fell into the black pit of unconsciousness....
* * *
For a long moment, the room remained plunged in an uncanny silence ... a silence the more bizarre because it followed those desperate screams which had filled the room so long and so often. The Countess had the wandering look of a woman who has just had orgasm, and it was evident that she had found that subtle pleasure in delivering the last few blows of the martinet. On Jason's face, one could clearly read the sadistic satisfaction that smiled.
"Good!" The Countess sighed at last, and lifting her legs over the inert body of her victim, stepped down from the platform, "you know the usual procedure. Give her sedatives for forty-eight hours, accompanied by soothing salves. Then a treatment of stimulants for four days while continuing the massages and ungents."
"Very good, Madame," Jason approved. Ah, he knew very well how, to care for Caroline, for it was decidedly not the first time he had been summoned to nurse one of his pupils.
"I leave you, then." The Countess turned and slowly left the Room of Punishments, while Jason approached the inanimate naked body of the young girl, and, before he untied her from the straddling bars, he bent his head to kiss the swollen cunt and asshole of the martyrized Caroline Martin.
* * *
A week had passed.
Caroline Martin's condition had required far more care than had been first supposed. It is true that the punishment inflicted by the Countess had been very severe, and even now that the young girl was on her feet. Jason continued to apply soothing salves.
This special treatment consisted of light massages with a unique ointment, devised by a chemist who worked for "Rio 9," which had the special properties of alleviating pain and dispersing in a very short time all marks left by whip or switch or strap.
* * *
Jason entered Caroline's room. After the last flogging, the two instructors had decided not to lock her in her usual cell, but to give her a lighter, gayer room, with the intimation that at the slightest sign of rebellion, she would return at once to the dungeon and the collar and chains.
Still asleep, Caroline did not notice Jason's presence, so he had full leisure to admire the lovely pale face framed by the long curls on the lace-embroidered pillow.
Suddenly she stirred, her long, delicately curved lids began to flutter; her eyes opened and Jason stared into those large pupils still misty with sleep. And he gloated to see the shadows of fear leap into those lovely eyes which fixed on him.
"Good morning, charming Caroline, how are you this morning? Are you ready for the usual little visit?" he smilingly asked.
As she remained mute and blushing with confusion, he flung the cover and sheets to the foot of the bed, and for a delicious moment contemplated the half-nakedness of the young girl, who dared not move a muscle for fear of displeasing him.
It was evident that the terrible punishment inflicted by the Countess had been most efficacious. The arrogant, haughty Miss Martin who, at her first contact with her kidnappers, had menaced them with the worst reprisals, the proud and fiery Caroline, had been replaced by a gentle and fearful young girl who trembled and wept with terror at even the mention of the whip.
The combined training of Jason and the Countess had, as always, produced superlative results. Now Caroline's full ripe lips began to tremble, and despite herself, her thighs clenched together, but that was only for a short instant; and, her eyes always fixed on Jason's as if she had been hypnotized, she slowly trussed her nightgown up to her breasts and then slowly turned over onto her stomach. But then, after taking that pose, she did not move, Jason seemed to grow impatient: "Well, my beauty, are you still sleep?"
As if lashed by his voice, Caroline then got down on her knees, her torso posed flat on the bed, which projected into the air in the most indecent way those two lovely round buttocks of hers, exposing them to the lustful gaze of Jason. In the abandon of that pose, she offered him the sight of the well opened furrow leading to her crinkly anus and the wide slit of the vulva peeping out between those two satiny hillocks.
He began the "visit" by exclaiming, not over Caroline's beauty-which he knew only too well by now-but over the infallible efficacy of the marvelous salve. There was not a trace, not a blister or swelling or welt, anywhere on the soft velvety skin of the young woman, and if one recalls in what horrible state Caroline's loins and intimate parts had been left by the martinet, one would regard it virtually as a miracle.
"Excellent, excellent," he pronounced, "another day of treatment and we may consider that you are cured and again ready to continue your educational curriculum." As he said this aloud he took a little porcelain pot placed on a low little table near the bed ... dipped two fingers into it and now began to spread the unguent over Miss Martin's buttocks and thighs.
"Open your legs!"
She stiffened slightly and then there was a slight-oh, a very slight-hesitation before widening her thighs as much as Jason desired. In this obscene pose, her bottom was lubriciously open, with her anus and vulva offered totally to the man's manipulations, and Jason, under pretext of caring for her, had no concern about touching and caressing the one or the other in an unbelievably perverse fashion.
Caroline hated these moments, for despite her repugnance and shame, she had realized it was impossible for her not to react under the obscene touches he applied; his grazing fingers knew just how to make her shudder with lust and even wrest groans of passion from her.
This time again, to her great confusion and though she had concentrated all her powers on resisting that unwholesome attunement, she felt that her clitoris was peeping out of her sheath and stiffened like the tiny cock of a new-born babe.
Biting the pillow, her hands clutching the sheets, Caroline tried her best to hide her shame, when suddenly, to her great horror, she felt Jason's fingers, anointed with the unguent, glide along the furrow between her buttocks and attack the little crinkly rosebud of her anus.
However, this wasn't new to her, since at each of his
"visits," Jason thus amused himself by burying his fingers into her bottomhole and frigging her anus. At the outset, this had torn vehement protests from the horribly shocked young woman, but a few good hard snacks of his palm on her naked behind had quickly calmed her and now, tautened with shame and disgust, she let her rectum be gouged without putting up any resistance.
He loved to compel her to endure this obscene practice, for two reasons. The first was that, like every good sadist, he was equally an adept of the joys of sodomy; the second reason stemmed from the first, since it was necessary to ensupple and enlighten the new pupil so she might be capable of enduring without too much damage or risk of any serious accident, the burying of his enormous prick into her fundament when the moment came for him to take the maidenhead of her behind.
So this morning, bending over the dimpled bottom of his pupil, he amused himself with gouging her asshole with his middle finger smeared with the medicated unguent, and was greatly roused to see the delicate ambery rosebud, hairless now and the more piquantly lascivious thereby, open and close at the probings and withdrawals of his finger.
After a moment, he drew out his finger, but only to press two tightly compressed fingers into her distended bottomhole, while stifled groans rose from the pillow and Caroline's buttocks weaved from right to left....
For several minutes, he gouged that tender orifice, and then drew out his two fingers-but it was only so he might press three, forming a cone, into the beautiful slave's bunghole.
Her anus was hideously deformed by that exaggerated stretching, and Caroline began to utter cries of suffering, trying to rise; but Jason placed his free hand on the small of her back to compel her to keep her prostrated pose, while with jerky thrusts of his wrist he sought to bury all three fingers up to the palm.
Caroline kicked madly under the cruel gouging, and fell, flat on her belly on the bed, which literally tore his delving fingers out of her asshole; the pain of this wrenched an agonized cry from her which terminated in tears and groans.
"Good! I think it can go now ... you'll rest till noon. This afternoon the Countess will come to see you to explain what we're expecting from you this evening ... till then!"
* * *
When Caroline wakened from the short nap, she was terrified to see the Countess seated at her bedside. The latter had an amused smile on her face when she saw the recoiling movement which Caroline could not quite control.
"Jason has informed me of your cure, Caroline," the Countess finally declared after an impressive silence.
"Very well, Caroline. I hope that now you've entirely understood what we expect of you ... yes?"
Caroline's vocal cord seemed to be paralyzed and she could only nod her head in token of assent.
"You must understand now that the things I've told you since your arrival here are quite correct: you have been bought through my organization by a very rich man who desires to enjoy you by treating you as an erotic slave submissive to his every whim. Now do you still believe that I am lying?"
Caroline, still speechless, could only shake her head. No, the Countess didn't lie, she knew that now!
"You have also learned what every disobedience to an order costs, I think. You know that the cost is a whipping, a whipping without pity?"
Again the young girl nodded, and this time succeeded in murmuring in an unsteady voice, "Y ... yes ... M ... Madame ... y ... yes...."
"Good! In that case, I think you're ready to pass into the second stage of your training, a training that will make of you a slave of exemplary submissiveness before you are delivered to your master.
"Now, in the past part of your educational stage, my assistant and I were bound to train you and crush out in you every sentiment of revolt and pride in order to have you fully assimilate the precept of absolute obedience. However, that does not suffice to make you an interesting subject. Therefore we must now inculcate in you the science of erotic caresses and amorous perversions.
"For this reason I've invented an amusing method, which I admit with satisfaction has till now achieved only the very best results. We are going to play a kind of comedy in which you will become the maid of a wealthy couple. I shall become your mistress, and Jason will play the role of my husband and be your master. You will see and understand very quickly the reason behind this kind of playacting. Soon, you'll be given an appropriate costume, the attire of a maid which, I'm sure, will suit you marvelously. However, before we take over our respective roles, let me give you a warning, Miss Martin."
Now the voice of the Countess suddenly became harsher, more severe: "During all this game, I intend to obtain from you the most absolute obedience, as well as the most total frankness. Any disobedience and any lie on your part will be punished with all the severity at my command, and there isn't any reason because you happen to be wearing a dress during our little play that this dress cannot be trussed up to give you a spanking or a whipping. Is that thoroughly understood?"
"Y ... yes ... yes ... M ... Madame....
"Good. Then, till I see you soon, and don't forget my warning!" And with these last words, the Countess rose and went to the door, while a great tear slowly rolled down Caroline's cheek.
* * *
The Countess and Jason, at their ease on a drawing room sofa, silently examined Caroline Martin who stood before them in the respectful and fearful attitude befitting a young chambermaid at her first interview with her new "employers."
The beautiful Miss was truly delectable in her charming disguise as a maid, for it was ravishing on her. Shod in polished black leather pumps with high heels, her long legs sheathed in black hose, she wore a short little dress of black satin on which stood out the immaculate whiteness of a dainty little lace apron. Her long fawn-colored tresses were styled in a ponytail with a big white satin ribbon bow. A very light makeup accentuated the redness of her excitingly beautiful mouth, for the sensual thickness of her lips led one inevitably to think of those of a vulva.
"What do you think of her, my dear Jason?" the Countess asked.
"Very good ... truly, very good ... very stirring and I really have a desire to exercise my right of master over her this very moment," he retorted.
"But, my dear, who's stopping you? On the contrary, I should think it would only be salutary to our little chambermaid before she makes her debut in her future post. Moreover, I'm rather curious to witness such a scene."
.Having thus received consent from the Countess, Jason rose and advanced towards Caroline, who stood motionless but visibly quivering with uneasiness. An uneasiness which, indeed, turned to panic when she saw Jason, without the slightest modesty, open his trousers and liberate his thick long prick which, even though not yet in full erection, resembled the organ of a horse.
For a few seconds, she stood there petrified, and then as he slowly advanced towards her, a horrified plaint rose to her lips, for she suddenly guessed what awaited her and she recoiled, stretching her arms out as if to repulse the man who sought to seize her, crying out in a plain, appealing voice: "Nooo ... ohh ... n ... no ... don't t ... touch me ... oooh ... no ... noo ... : you mustn't ... you haven't the right ... nooo ... nooo!"
Jason, his face wreathed in a lascivious smile, chuckled softly: "No? Truly I don't have the right," he mocked her in a soft, insinuating tone. "And yet that's exactly what I'm going to do. I've wanted to fuck you for a long time, my lovely lady, my lovely little untouchable Miss, it's much too long that I've kept a hard-on for you, Miss Caroline Martin. So I'm going to fuck you, my angel, stick my beautiful whang deep into your lovely cunny-up to the balls!"
As he mouthed these obscenities, Jason, whose cock was throbbingly rising to horizontal degree, took it in his hand and extended it towards Caroline, whose eyes dilated with horror could not move away from that enormous weapon.
"Noooo-s ... stop that-ohh, nooo! Not that-ooooh, n-noooo-no!"
The Countess smiled and comfortably shifted herself into a reclining pose on the sofa so as to lose not a detail of what was about to take place before her.
"Come here! Now, come here, my lovely Miss ... approach," Jason chuckled.
Then suddenly, without warning, he sprang on Caroline and seized her by the ponytail. She began to struggle wildly. It was instinctive, and she forgot the most elementary rules of submission although they had been inculcated in her with many a dose of the whip. But she was too terrified to react properly, for she understood that she was going to be abominably violated by Jason under the eyes of the frightful Countess.
From his viewpoint, Jason inwardly rejoiced at her desperate resistance. This little combat, in which he was sure to come off victoriously, excited him tremendously, and it would really have displeased him to possess a resigned and passive Caroline, while by contrast this body-to-body duel with his victim made his erection truly monstrous.
Irresistibly, in spite of her twists and kicks, he dragged Caroline to a large leather armchair, flung her on her belly over the elbow-rest, her face buried in the cushion of the seat and her legs waving on the other side. Then, without giving her time to react, he swiftly tugged up her black satin skirt, exposing the lovely plump bottom protected by the briefest of white silk panties which scarcely covered those delectably contoured buttocks.
"Noooo!" Caroline protested, uttering piercing cries and trying, though in vain, to rise from her critically vulnerable position.
"Oh, yes!" Jason chuckled as he applied a violent slap with his open palm to that tender bottom proffered to his pleasure. Then, maintaining his victim with a solid pressure at the small of her back with one hand, with his free hand he tugged down the white silk triangle and glided it along the struggling thighs.
"I'm going to have you from behind, dog fashion," he announced in a panting voice, "it'll go in better!"
He relaxed his pressure on her back, but only so he could grasp her by the hips just above her buttocks; then, slipping himself between her legs, with a strong pressure of his knees he forced her to open her thighs.
Weeping and crying out with anger and despair, Caroline tried in vain to prevent his placing himself behind her, trying even to repulse him with her two hands thrust out behind her back, but without success. Her position, balanced over the elbow-rest and with her face on the cushion, offered scarcely any chance to escape Jason's hold, and moreover she was matched against a masterful expert in this ignoble art.
For him, this time, there was no reason to use finesse and to spare her. Brutally, with a single long thrust, he forced over six inches of prick, thick hard prick, into the tight, burning cunt, with such violence that his belly smacked noisily against her bent-over, tautened bare buttocks.
Caroline exhaled a long clamorous shriek throbbing with despair and pain at the savage eruption of that shaft of hard flesh which filled her womb, frightfully distending the soft mucous tissues of her delicate vulva, so little used to such vicious treatment.
His mouth opened in a shuddering gasp of pleasure when he felt himself well planted in that narrow, tightening vaginal sheath, for the delicious convulsive quiverings of Caroline's cunthole exacerbated him to unleashed rut.
The poor slave cried and struggled weakly like a butterfly stuck on a pin, clawing the leather of the armchair, while her hugely widened, agony-blurred eyes fixed on the smiling face of the Countess, who seemed extremely stirred by this scene of rape.
Jason slowly withdrew; then with a single thrust as violent as the first buried his enormous prick in Caroline's cunthole up to the balls.
She could not hold back a mad shriek, writhing feverishly under that massive impalement, to his great joy.
"Ah-aaaahhh!!!"
Again he dug himself in with so much brutality that his huge meatus banged against her very matrix. And then, now that he felt himself fully rooted inside his victim, he relaxed his grip of her hips and, arching himself to fit her body, to lie over her back that shook with sobs, he slid his hands into her unbuttoned bodice and took hold of her panting titties, breaking the rosy nipples luxuriously. His face was deformed by a riotous of lascivious rut, and from his half-opened mouth there poured a torrent of obscene words mingled with grunts and groans of carnal lubricity.
His excitement was quite understandable if one remembers that for long days, long hours, he had had Caroline's lovely body at his mercy and yet had never once been able to enjoy her fully.
Now, slowly, regularly, he fucked her with long rhythmic thrusts that made his belly smack against the naked bottom crushed beneath him. Caroline had stopped crying out; now, only plaintive groans interspersed with hysterical sobs escaped her yawning mouth. The tempo now of this in-and-out plunging of his cock accelerated, while the armchair creaked at each of his movements.
Now the Countess rose suddenly and, walking over to the armchair, bent over the captive and, seizing the girl's ponytail in one hand, lifted Caroline's head, twisting the victim's face to one side. "Is it good? Is it good to be fucked by Jason's big prick?" she demanded, while that agonized, lovely face bathed in tears stared at her with a speechless horror. To be sure, she received no coherent reply, but only a melange of groans and sobs which continued to emerge from the gaping mouth of the unfortunate captive.
The Countess, visibly savoring the humiliation inflicted on her slave, contemplated her for another long, delicious moment; then, letting go of the ponytail, allowed Caroline's head to droop.
"Is she good to fuck?" she asked Jason who, all this while, had not slackened his penetrations.
"Y-yes ... ahh ... yes," he panted, now quickening and brutalizing his fierce digs, "Yes ... she is ... g ... good ... but she ... will ... be ... better still ... when I've ... trained her ... to fuck the way she should!"
Her face pressed against the leather cushion which her tears had dampened, Caroline now exhaled a kind of continuous raucous gasp interspersed with shrill little whining. Every fiber of her being was revolted by the brutal assault imposed on her, but she was too shocked and overwhelmed to have the strength left to resist. Besides, in spite of her indignation and inner revolt, her body reacted to betray her. Few women of normal sexuality-and Caroline was even more sexually endowed than most-could have endured with reaction the rhythmic frictions of Jason's enormous prick....
Her bottom shuddered at each burrowing dig of that thick phallus whose meatus buffeted the depths of her vagina with a dull thud that drew from her each time a choked gasp as if she had been given a blow of a fist in her belly.
"N-no-nooooooooooo ... n ... noooo," she sobbed wretchedly as she felt a slow, insidious pleasure invade her flesh distended by the stretching probings of that massive penis.
"It's good ... it's good, eh?" he panted, his loins jerking back and forth with brutal frenzy now, while he pinched and squeezed her naked breasts, which had stiffened in treacherous attunement under his fingers.
Caroline's bare little cunt grew more and more burning, more and more moist. For Jason, pleasure became too intense for him to hold it back any longer.
He panted, gasped, cried out and fucked her with violent shoves of his loins, literally as unleashed as a bull in rut, tearing stifled cries from his victim and making the armchair creak loudly under his assault, that of a stallion in supreme erotic fury....
Suddenly, from his lips there came a braying cry of ultimate frenzy, while his burning sperm flooded Caroline in powerful, thick jets, so abundant that the milky liquid surged back out of her distended vulva, and slowly trickled down the leather elbow-rest.
His buttocks jerking with nervous spasms, he finally sagged on poor Caroline, continuing to gasp and groan, aftermath of the sublime fulfillment which had shaken him from head to foot. And Caroline, crushed and annihilated, shuddered feebly, dominated and feeling in her martyred loins the agitation of her own secret erotic distillations....
