The stench of rank flesh and rancid sweat hung over the damp, cold chamber. Her knees were already scraped raw by the floor as the woman dragged her by the hair across the harsh, rough stone.
"You think you have suffered, pig?" snarled the tall, black-haired woman. "You have not even begun to experience the beauty of my discipline!"
Shivering, the young woman sobbed in a weak, tortured voice. "Ohh, God, Mistress, I'm sorry, truly I am, forgive me, please!"
The woman cackled fiercely, cracking the whip savagely against the young woman's shoulders once more. "Pig, there is no forgiveness for you," she growled. "Only pain will wash you clean, scum, and I am going to see that you are as pure as snow, before I'm through with you!"
The harsh, cruel lash began tov fall rhythmically then, cutting and slashing at the young woman's helpless flesh. She rolled and turned across the cold, wet base of the floor, screaming as the agony of her suffering overwhelmed her.
Above her, the woman laughed in pleasure, eagerly striking out with the vicious tool she held in her hand. Once more, a slave was being beaten into submission by her, and soon the young woman's mind as well as her flesh would belong to her completely.
She could not wait for the girl's total surrender, and eagerly attacked her anew.
CHAPTER ONE
Rain lashed against the windshield of the small compact and Janet Westerly peered through the swish of the wipers into the blinding spray. Even though the heater was on full blast, she was still trembling uncontrollably.
She shook her head sourly, unable to see more than a few yards in front of her, and the fear that she would head straight into some on-coming car nearly forced her to the side of the road a dozen times.
She never should have left in this storm, she realized. It was a stupid thing to do. She should have waited for the weather to clear, but being in a hurry, she had ignored the warnings of her parents and set out despite the storm.
Sometimes she just got so angry with them that she could hardly contain herself. Here she was, nearly twenty-five years old, and they still treated her like a child. Still tried to run her life.
She had paid enough, she thought grimly. She had gone to the college they wanted her to go to, and took the courses that they thought she should take. It was time she put her foot down and did what she wanted to do, she felt.
They hadn't wanted her to take the job at the Storm School. It had a reputation for being a rather unsavory place. The students were half the time criminals from the local prison, and that didn't sit well with Mister and Mrs. Westerly.
"My God, a good girl like you, mixing with that element," her mother had sighed. "It can't possibly be good for your mental health."
"You are not going to meet the kind of people that can help you in your career, there, either," her father had added.
She had nearly wanted to scream at both of them. She hadn't gone into teaching to further a career, she thought. Why couldn't they understand that? She had taken teaching as a profession to help other people, not herself, damn it. The rain splashed savagely against the windshield again and she felt the car slipping out of her control. She gasped as she pulled it from left to right, hearing the tires skittering across the wet pavement.
The road was gradually growing narrow and steep as it wound its way into the dark, forbidding mountains. It certainly was a creepy enough spot to have a school, she thought as she eased the car along the road.
She glanced out the side window and shuddered as she saw the road drop away at the edge into a dark abyss. She shook her head and tried to concentrate on her driving, but the belly-tightening fear wouldn't leave her.
Her anger at her parents had driven her out into this horrible weather. More than that, she realized that her taking the job at the Storm School was probably motivated by more spite for her parents than she wanted to admit.
At twenty-five, she was a painfully shy and reserved girl, even having gone to college. She was still a virgin, though not through lack of any offers to relieve her of that burden.
She was a tall, pretty girl, with short brown hair and a more than attractive face. She knew well enough that she was good-looking, and had been complimented on her attractiveness quite often.
But she had never felt at ease with boys. Somehow, the looming presence of her parents had always hung over her, and on the few dates she had had in college, the first time things got beyond the kissing stage, she had withdrawn.
That was probably the main reason she took the job, she realized. Just to get away from her parents. She had lived at home all her life, and when she heard of the opening, she jumped at the chance. Anything to get out from under their thumb.
As she drew near the peak of the mountain road, she could see the Storm mansion for the first time. Even at the distance of a mile or more, it was an impressive sight, and she pulled off the road for a moment, just to look at it.
From across the winding road, she could see its huge, dark outline, the faint glow of lights within the big house illuminating it. It was clearly three stories high with many peaks and gables that loomed like creatures of the night above the house.
Lightning cracked above the house suddenly, casting it in a harsh, blinding glare. As the thunder roared, Janet shuddered, feeling her belly rumble and the goose bumps rippling across her arms.
"It's like a God damn horror movie," she murmured, rolling up the window again.
She slipped back behind the wheel and after checking the road, in front and behind her, set off climbing the steep incline of the highway once more. The road was so narrow that two cars could hardly pass each other by this time, she saw.
There was little danger in that, though, for she could almost bet that nothing would be coming down from that dark, still house this night. It sat atop the highest point of the mountain, waiting for her to arrive, it seemed.
"Stop frightening yourself," she hissed coldly. "You ought to be excited, dummy, you ought to be dying to get there!"
Whatever she ought to be doing, though, she wasn't, for a strange and dark fear was gripping her as she neared the mansion on the top of the mountain. Though she realized she was about to change her life, the change seemed more than she had bargained for.
Even the way she had heard of the job was rather weird. A mysterious notice had been pinned to the bulletin board in the college placement office. It had been written in a neat, careful hand, the writing clearly that of a refined and cultured person.
"Wanted," it read. "Live in educator. Able to adapt to hard schedule and demanding work load. Must have willingness to learn new methods of teaching and respond to student's needs. Must be young, female, attractive and cultured. Above all, must be discreet."
The note said little else, not even an address, but just a phone number to call. She had hesitated quite some time before calling the number, but at last had been almost compelled to make the call out of curiosity if nothing else.
A dull, methodical voice over the phone told her where to apply and outlined the salary. It would be generous in any case, and having room and board thrown in was an added bonus. For Janet Westerly, eager to escape her parents and the hold they had over her life, it was an offer too good to refuse.
Several weeks had gone by before her application was replied to, and when she was finally notified that she had been accepted, she was more than thrilled. Even the fact that she was given her instructions by mail did not damper her excitement.
Now, as she drew nearer to the house, she wondered if she had made the right move after all. She hated to think that her parents might be right, but some how, everything seemed too good to be true, and she wondered, darkly, what the catch might be.
Oh well, she thought with a quiet sigh. Whatever it is, I can handle it. After all, it couldn't be any worse than living with mother and father, nothing could be any worse than that.
As she pushed her car cautiously toward the big house, there was movement inside the huge mansion, but not on any of the three visible floors. Far beneath the ground, in a cold, torch-lit chamber, a strange ritual was taking place.
A young woman, moaning quietly, was being led across the damp floor of this chamber, her body damp with sweat, even as the cold chilled the room. Her sweat came from fear, and her groans from helplessness. .
The two women that were leading the third across the floor were dressed in severe dark outfits of harsh, black leather. They were in their mid-thirties and neither of them could be called attractive.
At the far end of the room, a tall, black-haired woman was standing with her arms folded across her ample chest, dressed in a long, purple robe, her hair tied back in a thick, taut knot.
"Well, pig, have you decided to accept my conditions?" she snarled as the two women forced the girl to her knees in front of the other.
The young woman, shivering even more violently than before, glared up at the one standing over her. "Fuck you," she snarled coldly. "I'm not your slave, and I won't be, you bitch!"
Instead of getting angry, the other woman laughed savagely in response to the girl's remark. "You have a haughty manner, Miss Dorsey," she growled. "We'll work that out of you, yet!"
"What are you going to do, spank me, again?" sneered the young woman in contempt. "Go ahead, my ass is numb by now, you sadistic bitch, it won't hurt me a bit!"
The woman standing in front of her reached out her hand and gripped the younger woman painfully by the chin. She tugged on her head, yanking it from side to side as she hissed at her.
"Those who will not accept my training, have to pay the price of refusal," she growled. "You're going to find out punishment can be more than you could imagine, Lily, I promise you that!"
She turned to the two women holding her by the arms then and nodded coolly. "See that she does not move," she hissed.
Walking over to the side of the room, she pushed a small button embedded in the wall. The agonizing groan of a chain being turned filled the air, along with the rattle of a heavy chain.
The young woman, Lily Dorsey gazed upward and gasped as she saw a beam that ran the length of the ceiling, slowly descending from the top of the room toward her. A thick, short chain from which dangled two other equally as short chains hung from the center of the beam, and Lily watched with mounting horror as it dropped nearly over her head.
One of the shorter chains held a wide, metal collar at the end, the other was connected to a thick, heavy bolt with a long, curved piece of metal at the end of it. Lily shuddered, for the first time, her fear making her struggle a bit more.
The woman in front of her laughed, coldly. "You think you have known suffering before, slut?" she chuckled savagely. "You have known nothing, pig! I'm going to teach you just what it really means to suffer now, scum!"
Lily gasped as the dangling chains and their cruel looking instruments brushed over her naked shoulders. She sobbed, trying to pull away desperately, then, but the two women held her fast.
"You are going to submit, my precious little flower," cackled the other woman, leisurely slipping the collar around her neck and locking it tight. "Through the suffering your receive, you are going to learn what it is to surrender to my will, totally!"
She felt the tightness of the cold, metal clasp around her neck and Lily shuddered uncontrollably. She moaned, her eyes wide with growing fear then, as the woman's hand, sleek and smooth, traveled down the length of her spine in an affectionate caress.
"Little bitch, my precious slave," the woman murmured softly. "How it pains me to hurt you, but you must be punished! You must learn to show respect and love for your Mistress, scum!"
Her fingers were at Lily's firm, taut buttocks, then and her free hand now held the curved hook that dangled from the other chain. The end of the hook was a blunted point and she pushed it almost teasingly between Lily's buttocks.
The girl gasped with a mixture of horror and fear as she felt the cold, blunted point rubbing against her rectal dot. She turned her head and gazed at the other woman in total horror, now.
"Please, God, Mistress, I'm sorry," she whispered, completely dropping all of her bravado, then. "God. ... I will try to do better, I promise I will!"
"Silence, scum," snarled the tall, black-haired woman. "I can not listen to your lies anymore, you must be disciplined!"
Slowly she wedged the blunt tip of the hook into the girl's quivering bum. Pain rippled through her flesh, then, but even more so, the fear made her tremble uncontrollably as the two assistant's held her fast by the arms.
She moaned as the tall, black-haired woman forced the prong into her rectum. She gasped as the curved tip was thrust deep into her hole and her inner flesh forced to expand to accommodate the probe.
Twisting expertly, she forced the prong deeper and deeper, until she had it firmly embedded in the girl's bottom, and Lily's rectal walls were throbbing dully with pain. The tall, black-haired woman then went to the wall and pressed another black button. The hum of the motor filled the air and Lily gasped as she felt the chain drawing tight against her throat and bum.
When it had reached the point of being completely taut, the black-haired woman came back around in front of her. She was holding two small rings in her palm, to which were fastened a length of twine.
"Now my sweet," the woman murmured softly. "I am going to put you in the honored position of suffering for my pleasure."
She showed the girl the rings, snapping them open after she had slipped one of them through a larger ring that was bolted to the floor. The open clasps of the rings were sharpened to a needle tip and gleaming, wickedly.
"Hold her fast," the woman snarled to the two assistants that had vise-like grips on Lily's arms. "I don't want her tearing away from me until this is finished."
She was kneeling in front of the girl, then, her purple robe parted to reveal her large, firm breasts. She smiled sweetly and leaned forward, clasping one long, slender hand around the other girl's right breast.
She squeezed the quivering globe harshly in her grip, rubbing the nipple back and forth until it was a hard, rosy nugget atop the creamy mound. Lily's eyes were blinking wildly as the woman brought the open clasp of one ring to the quivering nipple.
"No ... no Mistress, you can't, you can't," she gasped wildly. "Ohh, God, don't Mistress, don't please, no!"
"Softly, now, my pet," cooed the bigger woman, pressing the points of the clasp against either side of the girl's nipple at the tip of the nugget. "Pain will help you, my precious pig, help you to surrender to my will!"
With that she snapped the ring shut, driving the metal points of Hie clasps through the quivering flesh of Lily's nipple. Pain roared through her breast like a white-hot knife and she wailed in agony as the ring closed together in her flesh.
She jerked violently against the embedded ring, her body twisting and turning in horrible agony. The black-haired woman quickly took hold of her other breast then, and snapped the other ring through the quivering nipple.
Screaming in agony, Lily Dorsey stared down at her punctured flesh in total shock and horror. She could not believe what was happening to her, even as the roaring, white-hot agony built in her damaged flesh.
Sweat was streaming down her face as the black-haired woman stepped away from her, nodding in satisfaction. She glanced up at her, tears streaming from her eyes, and watched as the woman walked to the wall once again.
"Why ... why, Mistress, why?" she moaned, quietly.
"Because you need it, my little slut," snarled the black-haired woman. "You think too highly of yourself, you have not learned to love me over your own worthless existence. I'm am going to help change that, scum, believe me!" She turned then and pushed the button to lift the beam once more, and Lily wailed in agony as she felt the tug on her collar and the hook embedded in her bum. The chain drew her upward, almost lifting her off the floor, and her flesh was on fire in half a dozen places, now.
The two assistants freed her arms and she hung on the chain, writhing in agony. She could hardly breathe for the tight metal collar around her throat, pulling on her head, savagely, and the hook in her bum dug deeper into her soft, fragile sleeve.
"Now, pig, perhaps you begin to understand my meaning," the black-haired woman snarled at her. "Now, perhaps you can see that I am serious when I say you must suffer for your ways."
Lily Dorsey sobbed, jerking spasmodically as the pain washed through her flesh in an unrelenting manner. Every breath that she took caused some shudder in her delicate frame, renewing the agony she was enduring.
The black-haired woman hissed at her coldly. "You are worthless scum," she snarled. "Not good enough to lick the dirt from my boots. I am being quite kind to you, bitch, to bother with you at all."
She pressed the button again, lifting Lily's body a bit more, tugging hard now, on the collar and hook in her hand, drawing the rings tight against her breasts. The young woman sobbed breathlessly, the agony unceasing in her flesh.
Pain was all that she knew in that moment. It was fierce and consuming, almost to the degree that it blocked out every other sensation she might have known. She could barely hear the black-haired woman, then, so loud was the echo of her own cries in her ears.
"You have no idea what it means to suffer, so I am going to teach you," hissed the black-haired woman. "Suffering well is an art, pig, an art a good slave must learn!"
She walked over to where Lily was kneeling, now, and inspected the young woman, closely. She gazed at the girl's buttocks, quivering spasmodically against the flat edge of the hook embedded between them, then glanced down at her quaking breasts.
The nipples were pulled taut, the entire fullness of the mounds stretched completely. Lily's face was awash in sweat, and her lips licked nervously at each other, as the soft, labored gasp of her breathing escaped them.
"See how the pain becomes overwhelming, pig," the woman was hissing at her. "See how it invades every portion of your flesh?"
She cackled softly, pushing the button to lift the girl off the floor a bit more. The hook dug deeper into her rectal chamber walls, and the blood began to flow, thinly from the girl's invaded passage.
"Pain is the basis for everything, my pet," murmured the woman, then. "Pain teaches you humility, it teaches you respect for the one that inflicts it!"
Through her tortured mask of agony, the young woman could see the older one standing before her then. Her body was so aflame with agony, that she tried her best not to move at all, to spare herself more suffering.
"Mistress," she murmured thickly, her voice broken with agony. "Mistress, how ... how can I please you?"
The woman laughed cruelly. "Ohh, we shall find many, many ways for that, my precious pig," she muttered. "I assure you, before I am done, you will know what I need before I even speak it!"
Blood dripped from her seared nipples and pumped steadily from her bum channel, then. Her breathing had reached the point of searing fire in her lungs, and the world was spinning around her wildly, making her blink repeatedly in anguish.
"Pain is everything, my sweet," the woman whispered coldly. "You must think of of the pain and how beautiful it is."
The girl swayed back and forth, now, groaning and sobbing as the harsh, tearing hook twisted in her rectal cavity and the rings tugged hard at her poor, damaged nipples. Her body was shaking so violently by this time, that she could barely remain upright.
"Repeat after me, little whore," the woman hissed at her. "I love the pain, I love to suffer, I yearn to please my Mistress!"
Gasping, the young girl mumbled in a tortured tone of voice. "I ... I love the pain ... I love my to suffer," she sobbed. "I yearn to please my Mistress!"
"All I want is to make my Mistress happy," snarled the woman, then. "Say it, little pig, let me hear you say it, now!"
"All ... all I want is to make ... to make my Mistress happy," wailed the young girl.
"You shall, my sweet, I promise you, you shall," laughed the black-haired woman.
She went to the wall, then, and pushed the button again. Now the beam rose upward once more, driving the blunt hook ever deeper into Lily's bum, and making the rings tear at her captured nipples.
The girl squealed in agony, nothing mattering to her now but the incredible agony that she was experiencing, and the constant, rolling waves of pure hell that were engulfing her. As she screamed into oblivion, the tall, black-haired woman looked on, smiling thinly in approaval.
"Yes, you will learn, my sweet," she was whispering. "You shall learn!"
CHAPTER TWO
As she pulled the car to a halt in front of the house, Janet Westerly could not help but shiver, as before, from the mere sight of it. It was indeed a cold and frightening place on first glance.
She shuddered again as she got out of the car, reaching quickly in the back seat for both of her bags. Quickly she raced to the porch and shook off the rain before pushing the big, brass doorbell.
She heard the faint echo of chimes inside the house and glanced around at the moody isolation of the house. The lower floor windows were all heavily curtained so that not even a bit of light escaped from the inside.
She stood on the porch, shuddering, as the sound of footsteps came nearer to the door. She heard the latch pulled back from within and she stiffened as the door swung open, revealing a short, squat woman dressed in a nurse's uniform.
"What is it you want?" the woman hissed coldly. "Why have you come to bother us at this hour?"
"I'm. ... I'm supposed to be here," stammered Janet. "I'm ... I'm Janet Westerly, the new teacher. I was sent for."
The woman grunted, and made no move to let her enter. Janet quickly searched through her purse until she had come up with the letter of acceptance. She thrust it into the woman's hands, urgently.
"See, it's all in there," she whispered frantically. "Please let me in, I'm freezing to death out here!"
The ugly, squat woman glanced at the letter, almost in contempt and snorted. "You weren't due here until the morning," she muttered coldly.
"What difference does that make?" moaned the girl impatiently. "Please, let me in."
"The Mistress does not like to have her schedule upset, not at all," growled the other woman. "If she said you were not supposed to come until the morning, she meant the morning."
"Ohh, for Christ's sake," moaned Janet. "Let me talk to her, she'll straighten this out, please!"
The woman shook her head. "I cannot disturb her, now," she muttered grimly. "You will have to come back in the morning."
She was about to shut the door when Janet stuck her body half way between it and the wooden frame. "I'm not coming back anytime, damn it," she hissed. "Let me in now, you dumb bitch!"
To her shock, the other woman continued to push on the door, until she was mashing Janet tightly against the frame. The young woman screamed wildly, the door crushing her savagely, then.
"What's going on there?" a male voice called from within the house. "Olga, what in the name of God are you doing to that girl?"
A tall, blonde-headed man in his early thirties walked over, to where they were struggling and pulled the squat, ugly looking woman away from the door. He gazed at her and then Janet, coldly.
"What the hell is going on?" he barked coldly. "Who are you, young lady?"
Moaning with relief, Janet tried to straighten her clothing. The man was also dressed in white and she assumed at once that he was a doctor. She shook her head grimly and pointed at the other woman.
"I'm Janet Westerly, the new teacher," she hissed. "This crazy woman wouldn't let me in, just because I'm not supposed to be here until the morning."
The tall, blonde man's eyes narrowed coolly. "Then that's when you should have come," he murmured softly.
"Well for God's sake, you too?" Janet nearly sobbed. "I'm tired and wet and freezing and you're not going to let me in because I'm early?"
The blonde-headed man laughed and shook his head. "Of course not, honey," he said, agreeably. "Come on in, we'll take care of you. It's just that Olga takes her orders from Miss Storm quite seriously."
He turned to the grim-faced woman and nodded curtly. "I'll take responsibilityfor her, Olga," he said. "You tend to the others, now."
"The Mistress won't like this," muttered the woman, but she turned on her heel and walked away without arguing any further.
"Is she crazy or something?" Janet hissed, watching the woman waddling away.
The blonde-headed man laughed softly. "No, just very loyal," he replied. "Olga would do anything her Mistress tells her to, including keeping you out of here if it meant her life. She's just like that."
Janet gazed at him closely. "Who are you, anyway?" she asked. "Do you work for Miss Storm, too?"
The man laughed again. "Let's just say we are associates, shall we?" he muttered. "Shall we go into the parlor where you can warm yourself?"
He led the way and nodded to a butler, hissing at him to get Janet's bags. The parlor was small and comfortable, and Janet went directly to the fire place, shrugging off her jacket on the way.
"God, I thought I'd die out there," she moaned. "The drive up here was just terrible. I was sure I'd have a wreck."
The blonde-headed man nodded, gazing out the window at the driving rain. "Yes, I would bet the bridge will be out in the morning, too," he murmured. "It usually goes about once or twice a year."
He went to a small, up-right bar and poured a large tumbler of brandy. He carried it over to the girl and pressed it into her hands. "Drink it all," he smiled. "It'll help warm you up."
She took a healthy pull on the fiery liquor and gasped as it burned its way down her throat, warming her tummy instantly upon its arrival. She coughed slightly and smiled weakly.
"Thank you," she murmured quietly. "I've been so busy complaining, I haven't bothered to introduce myself. I'm Janet Westerly."
The blonde-headed man took her hand and shook it warmly. "Brad Tayor," he responsded. "I'm really very glad to meet you, you know."
For a moment their hands remained clasped and she could feel a lively current racing through them. She smiled, blushing a bit and pulled her hand away. "Me too," she murmured softly. "I'm glad to finally get here."
"You'll find things a little unsettling here at first," he told her. "But, once you've gotten used to the place, it's not so bad."
Janet glanced around the parlor, impressed by the luxury of its furnishing. She could not help but stare in awe at the many fine, priceless paintings that lined the walls, nor the fineness of the various sculptures that were placed about the room.
"What ... what kind of people do you actually deal with here," she asked at last.
"The worst, Miss Westerly," came a cold, harsh voice from behind her.
Janet spun around in fright, nearly dropping her glass. At the entrance to the parlor, stood a tall, black-haired woman, with fierce, blazing eyes. Her lips were set in a thin, tight smile, and she nodded grimly.
"We deal with the worst of society, here, Miss Westerly," the woman said, entering the room, then. "The criminal, the sick, the lost and hopeless, those are our charges, the ones we must help."
She walked directly over to where Janet was standing and thrust out a long, tapered hand. "I'm Aurelia Storm," she murmured pointedly; "And this is my world you have entered. The world of the forsaken."
Janet felt a harsh, almost stinging cold in the woman's grip and she shook the hand quickly, pulling her own away as fast as possible. The woman was impressive to say the least, and Janet was not a little intimidated by her presence.
That Aurelia Storm was beautiful went without saying. But her beauty, to the girl's eyes, was cold and icy, like an untouchable stone. She was tall and imposing, a sleek, yet powerful appearing woman.
"You will learn, quickly, Miss Westerly, that what you will be dealing with, is not of your previous experience," the woman told her.
"You will be dealing with that which all of society has given up on. It will be our task, to prove them wrong."
Brad Taylor chuckled, though the young woman could not tell whether his amusement was mocking or something of an agreement with what Aurelia Storm was telling her. She glanced at the man, but his face told her nothing.
"I run a strict house, Miss Westerly," Aurelia Storm murmured, calling the girl's attention to her once again. "I allow nothing to chance, exempt no one from my rules. Only through the most severe of disciplines, can we hope to succeed."
Janet stared at her blankly. "I always try and do my best, Miss Storm," she said, stumbling over her words.
The woman shook her head. "You must learn to do more than your best," she hissed demandingly. "You must learn to expect and do more than ever before."
She went to the bar and poured herself a glass of wine. Savoring the first sip, she smiled guardedly. "I realize you have probably heard a lot about this place," she chuckled. "I would advise you to forget all of the gossip."
Blushing the girl shook her head. "I don't pay, any attention to wagging tongues," she said. "I like to see things for myself."
Brad Taylor laughed. "That's a good attitude," he said. "We like having an open-minded girl joining us. Fresh blood always helps."
Something in his voice made the girl tremble with distaste and she started as she felt the woman's hand on her shoulder, getting her attention. She turned and saw the warm glow in the woman's eyes, and it was nearly hypnotic as she stared at her.
"You are not at ease, my dear," murmured Aurelia Storm. "You must be very tired. I'll have Olga show you to your room."
She rang for the maid and in a few moments, the squat, ugly woman appeared at the door. "Take her up to her room," she growled. "And see that she is made as comfortable as possible."
The older woman nodded without speaking and turned to leave. "Well, I guess I'll say goodnight, then," Janet stammered quietly.
Aurelia Storm nodded smoothly. "We shall talk at breakfast," she whispered. "I will tell you more of us then, my dear. Sleep well, Janet."
The young girl nodded and turned away, the two people gazing after her as she left the room. When she had begun to climb the stairs, Aurelia went to the parlor door and shut it once more.
"Well, Bradley, what do you think?" she hissed with an obvious excitement.
The blonde-haired man laughed coldly. "She's certainly a virgin," he cackled. "You're really looking to turn this one into something, aren't you, Aurelia?"
The woman sighed and nodded. "I am hoping so," she murmured. "She fits my requirements almost perfectly. Shy, withdrawn, innocent. She should be easily molded to my purpose."
"She still has family, though," Brad Taylor grumbled. "They could be a bit of a problem, you know."
"So much the better," snarled the black-haired woman. "If she responds as well as I think she well, she will even convince them of her unquestioning loyalty."
"Jesus, Aurelia, isn't it enough you've got the others to train," Brad hissed. "Do you have to take on someone as unblemished as this girl?"
"No, you idiot, it isn't enough," hissed the woman, coldly, in response. "I need someone to help me with my training, Bradley. Someone to do the job you find so distasteful at times."
"You know our deal," he grumbled in return. "I arrange the best candidates for you, that's all. I'm not in the business of laundering minds.
She snorted in contempt. "No, you only pick the subjects for the process, and pocket the money. Your hands aren't dirty, are they, Bradley?"
"Don't push me, Aurelia," he growled. "I've gone along with everything so far, but just don't push me."
She laughed softly. "Why, I don't need to push you my dear," she murmured. "You took the leap all by yourself, years ago."
She turned then and went to the bookcase on the right side of the fire place. Turning a single volume sideways, the case swung open to reveal a hidden tunnel beyound. She beckoned him with her hand.
"Come, I want to show you the latest results of my work," she whispered. "I think you'll find it most interesting."
Reluctantly, the blonde-haired man followed behind her. They worked their way cautiously down a long, winding flight of narrow steps, until they were a full story beneath the earth.
At the base of the stairs was another tunnel, and Aurelia led the way down the passage, the walls illuminated by glaring, naked bulbs. About half-way down the corridor, she stopped beside a heavy, wooden door.
She pointed inside and Brad stared with distaste at the young woman curled up on the floor, her arms locked against her chest as she rocked back and forth, moaning in obvious pain.
"The Dorsey bitch," grunted the woman. "I've just started on her, she has a ways to go, I'm afraid."
She then led him to the dank, wet chamber that was filled with various instruments of punishment and torture. Two female guards were standing by the door and they opened it for the woman and Brad.
Inside, a young woman of about twenty-one was seated on a cold, stone bench, dressed in a sheer, tattered slip. Her lips were quivering with anticipation as the woman arid man entered.
"Observe Miss Sylvia Lewis," Aurelia chuckled. "Almost completely trained."
The girl on the bench moaned and slipped to her knees beside it. Her head was bowed and she had her hands out in front of her, sobbing as she tried to speak.
"Mistress, ohh, my blessed Mistress," she groaned. "I ache to serve you, what is your pleasure, tell me, please!"
Aurelia glanced at Brad who shrugged in dismissal. Girmly, she turned her eyes back to the kneeling young woman and snarled at her. "Dress in the outfit I provided you, scum," she barked. "Do it, now!
Eagerly, the young woman stripped off the pathetic shift and pulled a tight, leather outfit over her legs. It fit all the way up under her lovely breasts and snapped, in a leather choker, around her throat. There were a pair of straps that fastened together against her breasts and she held them in her hands as Aurelia stared at her.
"They will hurt, when you fasten them, won't they, pig?" the woman muttered coldly. "They will give you a great deal of pain, I am sure."
The young woman, her short, brown hair matted to her skull, nodded rapidly. "It will hurt badly, Mistress," she whispered intently. "But I want it to, if it will please you!"
The tall, black-haired woman snorted harshly. "What pleases me is your surrender, pig," she growled. "When you submit to me, that is when I am happy. The pain is hardly important, now is it?"
Aurelia turned to Brad then. Her lips were curled in a thin, knowing smile. "See how well she is trained, Bradley?" she laughed softly. "She will even hurt herself, for my benefit."
Brad Taylor snorted in disbelief. "You have to be kidding," he chuckled. "What could she do to herself, anyway?"
Aurelia eyes blazed with anger for a moment, then grew cold. "Pay attention, Dr.
Taylor," she growled. "Even you might learn something from this."
She turned and nodded to the young woman then. "Go ahead, my precious dove," she whispered. "Show me your love for me, now!"
The young woman sucked in her breath and pushed the metal loop of one strap against her breast. She sobbed quietly as she drew the top strap tighter and tighter, mashing the breast against her chest, while fastening the buckle against her breast bone.
She was bathed in sweat as the fumbled with the next strap, moaning more audibly, then, as she repeated the process. In a matter of moments, she had both breasts bound tightly, and was almost gasping for breath against their pain.
The nipples were tiny, hard nuggets, pink with the strain of the metal loops. She nearly screamed as Aurelia tweaked both tender nuggets between her fingers.
"Does it hurt, my little scum?" the woman murmured harshly. "Does the pain roar through you terribly, now?"
"Yes, Mistress," the girl sobbed, shivering as the woman pinched her nipples even harder between her thumbs and forefingers. "Ohh, it hurts badly, yes."
"But you love the pain, don't you, pig?" laughed the woman, almost savagely. "You love how terrible and fierce it is, don't you, now?"
The girl nodded wildly. "Pain is everything, Mistress," she groaned. "Pain is what I want and need. Pain teaches me to love you, Mistress."
Aurelia laughed coldly once more and led the girl around the room by her nipples. She was gazing over the trembling young woman's shoulders at Brad Taylor, whose face was much less calm and controlled by then.
"You see how willingly she suffers for me?" Aurelia laughed. "She would endure anything if it pleased me, wouldn't you, pig?"
She forced the girl down to her knees, then, and the young woman sobbed as she dropped to the floor. Her body was swaying from side to side as Aurelia continued to tweak her nipples, and the flush of agonized sweat dripped down her face in rivers.
"I ... I would die for you, Mistress," Sylvia moaned, softly. "I would let you do anything to me, I swear it!"
"Why, my pet?" teased the other woman. "Why would you want to do this for me?"
"Because ... because you are my Mistress," the girl stammered. "You are the only one that matters to me, the only one that loves me, truly."
"Ahh, so that's it," Aurelia nodded quietly.
"And how do you know I love you, my precious flower, how do you know that?"
The girl could hardly speak in that moment. Her face was a clear, contorted mask of suffering and her lips quivered violently as she tried to speak. , "I ... because you give me the gift of your punishment, Mistress," she groaned at last. "You give me the beauty of suffering, allow me to enjoy the ecstasy of pain!"
"Yes, yes, my sweet dove," Aurelia Storm murmured quietly. "And suffering is everything, isn't it, my sweet? Pain unlocks the door to rapture, right my pet?"
The young girl sobbed, unable to speak any longer. She slipped to the floor, pressing her lips to Aurelia's slippers. Hungrily, her tongue washed over them, licking the specks of dirt and dust from the velvet material.
"Love me, Mistress," she moaned, quietly. "Do anything to me, Mistress, but please, please, love me, I beg of you!"
Aurelia Storm grinned at Brad Taylor, the ripple of her satisfied laughter soft and quiet in the still air between them. She glanced down at the girl, eagerly cleaning her slippers and nodded with approval.
"You wouldn't think she was a self-indulgent pig just a few weeks ago, would you?" she chuckled. "You wouldn't guess she was so spoiled, now, would you, Bradley?"
The young man shuddered, turning his head away from the sight before him. "I don't know, Aurelia," he murmured. "Sometimes you frighten me."
Aurelia Storm pushed the young girl at her feet away from her, ignoring her gasp of pain as she fell on her breasts, and walked quickly to where Brad was seated. She gripped his shoulders and turned him around, savagely hissing at him.
"You mark me, Bradley," she growled. "I want to frighten you, for it's the only way to keep you in line. Remember this, Bradley. I am Mistress, here, no one else. Just like my slaves, you will obey me, or else."
Brad Taylor glanced at the girl writhing on the floor, saw the ecstasy in her eyes through the dull mask of pain, and felt his belly sinking with a gnawing terror.
"Don't worry, Aurelia," he whispered harshly. "I know my place."
Aurelia Storm nodded abruptly. "That's good, Bradley," she murmured coolly. "For I am going to need your help with this new one. This little, innocent dove that is to be my new disciple. This Janet Westerly, my future slave."
Grimly, he followed her eyes to the roof of the chamber, where she stared so intently.
CHAPTER THREE
Somewhere during the middle of the night, Janet was awoken, by what she could not tell, but something definitely disturbing.
She sat up in bed, her eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to the light. She glanced around, feeling chilled, despite the comforting warmth of her room. The chill came, obviously, from fear.
"Who's there?" she whispered rather urgently into the darkness.
No response came from the blackness in front of her eyes and she pulled the covers of the bed, rather instinctively up around her throat. She felt foolish, rather like a little girl, but could not help herself.
A few moments ticked by, and she could hear them passing on her clock beside the bed. A gaze at its dial told her it was well past two in the morning. She shook her head, angrily.
It wasn't like her to be this nervous all the time. She might be shy, might even be withdrawn, but within herself, she had a great deal of personal strength and little things did not normally upset her.
Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she sighed impatiently. She called out again, but still received no answer. She laughed, softly.
"You jerk," she whispered to herself. "There's nobody there, you're talking to the wall, dummy."
She was wearing a thin, nearly transparent nightgown over her body and as she slipped from the bed, almost unconsciously, she pulled a thick, fluffy robe over her slender frame.
She pushed her feet into a pair of slippers and tightened the sash about her robe. Slowly she walked toward the door. She could see almost clearly in the darkness by now, and when she flicked on the lights, she had to shade her eyes from the glare.
She gazed once around the room, admiring the quaint sweetness of it, the almost girlish motif of the small chamber. It was obviously designed for someone like her, and her first impression had been wonder.
She could not imagine how they had come so close to what she would like in a room. The colors and furnishings were nearly perfect. They were certainly going to a lot of trouble to make her feel at home, she had decided.
Now she turned her attention to her curiosity. She pulled the door open softly and stared into the semi-darkness of the wide hallway. Her room was on the second floor of the house, and a deep, pile carpet ran the length of the corridor.
Glancing up and down, she saw no one else in the hallway. Indeed, a moody silence was hanging in the air, bleak and empty, as if she were the only one in the house. Clearly, she was perhaps the only one awake, at least.
She sighed again. "What the hell woke me up?" she wondered softly.
She was about to go back to her room, when she heard the faint sound of moaning coming from the far end of the hall. Her ears perked up at the sound, for it was strange and almost musical.
Holding her breath to listen more clearly, she waited a heart beat until the sound came to her once more. It was definitely a moan, though she could not tell whether it was one of pain or pleasure.
God, she wondered. Am I hearing ghosts? She shook her head and chuckled, though her laughter was more nervous than she would have cared to admit. She fought the impluse to return to the room and bury her head under the covers.
"Come on, Janet," she chuckled to herself. "You're a big, brave girl, let's go see what this is."
Cautiously, she moved out into the hall, gasping a bit as the door closed suddenly against her, slapping her lightly on the buttocks. She winced and rubbed her pert, molded bottom, then slowly made her way down the hall.
The sound, though it did not increase in volume from its source, gradually grew louder as sheneared its origin. It was coming from downstairs, she realized, and when she reached the head of the stairs, she paused.
Something made her hesitate. Some sense of being an intruder made her stop cold and wait at the top of the stairs for several moments, just listening. The sound was rhythmic now, rippling upward from below.
There were voices, too, but she could not discern the meaning of the words she was hearing. The sound of them was garbled and muffled, so that all she heard was the very noise of speaking, itself.
Her hands were gripping the upper railing of the stair way, and she noticed, with a shock, that they were holding onto the polished wood quite fiercely. As if she were gripping for dear life.
"What the hell is the matter with you?" she hissed angrily to herself.
Clearly, she felt a sense of dread about continuing to follow the sounds and see where they came from. Some nameless warning was infecting her, telling her silently to return to her room and forget about it.
But that was not her way, she knew, and grimly she began to head down the stairs. Janet Westerly was not going to be frightened away by nameless voices and dull, rhythmic moans. She wasn't of that stock.
She knew she was acting braver than she felt, but she did not give a damn. Ever since she had started on this journey to Storm House, she had been peppered with fears and worries. It was time to put an end to them.
She hated to think she was just upset and scared by at last leaving home. All her life she had wanted to escape her parent's grip, and to be frightened back to their embrace was disgusting to her.
She had to start living on her own sometime, she had told them, and she wasn't about to go back on that statement now. Still, moving silently, carefully over the steps, she felt like a scared little girl.
The voices grew in intensity as she neared the foot of the stairs, and so did the pattern of the moaning. The soft, quiet groans sounded more and more like those of pleasure, and she felt herself growing embarrassed by what she might find.
She giggled to herself. Suppose the voices and moans were those of someone making love? Suppose she walked in on Brad Taylor and maybe Aurelia Storm going at it? Wouldn't that be a hell of a way to start off her stay there?
Obviously there was something more than a professional contact between them. She saw that from the beginning. Whatever it was, it was powerful, for she had been able to chart the by-play between them, easily. Thinking about the tall, beautiful black-haired woman made the young girl uneasy. She was almost frightening in the sense of power and control she gave off. She seemed to embrace everything around her and hold it fast.
Janet realized that such thinking was foolish and not a little born out of fear, but she couldn't escape it. One thing she knew for certain, she wouldn't ever want to get on the woman's bad side.
The sounds seemed to be coming from the parlor, and in the darkness of the hall leading to the room, she could see a bit of light coming from beneath the closed door. Carefully she made her way toward it.
With the heavy carpet that covered the floor, she was certain her footsteps were as silent as possible. For some reason, she did not want to disturb whoever it was behind the door.
She felt like a thief creeping up on the shut chamber, but at the same time, a rather enticing warmth was spreading through her, as she realized she might be sneaking up on a very intimate scene.
Her experiences with sex had not been very often or rewarding, and much of her fantasy life was still just that. She yearned for passion, but was rather terrified of it, and had never even seen a live naked man before.
She found herself wishing that it was Brad Taylor in there. She was almost praying she could sneak up and see him slippery and wet, plunging into someone with abandon. She felt shameless at the thought, and tantalized by it at the same time.
Now the voices were almost loud, through still muffled. Clearly, a woman was was doing the talking and her voice was at times harsh, at others gentle and cooing. By the time she reached the door, the girl knew for sure that one of the people in there had to be Aurelia Storm.
The door was old and huge, bigger than the sort built into newer more modern homes. The key hole was wide and shaped for an old-fashioned key, big enough for one to peer through in the classic, spying manner.
Stilling a giggle, the young woman slipped to her knees in front of the door and now, eagerly, pressed her right eye to the open slot. She felt wonderfully shameless, and a great deal excited.
It took a moment for her eye to adjust to the slot, as she had never done anything like this before. After blinking several times, she grew comfortable, and leaned against the door for support.
Inside the room, its walls and funishings were bathed in the flickering glow of candle light. Dozens of them were placed in ornate holders about the room, and the ever-changing dance of their wicks lent a sensual atmosphere to the room.
There was a heightened sense of erotica to the whole arrangement, and the young woman could not help feeling stimulated as she peered through the key hole, by the mere swirl of colors given off by the candles alone.
There was a young woman kneeling on the floor near the sofa, and to Janet's eyes, she appeared in a nearly hypnotic state. She was wearing a very short, very transparent nightgown that barely covered her thighs.
Through the garment, the girl could see her flesh, damp with sweat, her breasts up-tilted and nipples erect. Her mound was dark against the fabric of the garment and her shoulders rose and fell in rhythmic excitement.
The young woman was about Janet's age and very pretty. The girl was thinking that she was probably one of the students, and she wondered what she could be doing in the room at that hour.
More-over, she was wondering who was in there with her. Her vision was limited by the space of the key hole, and though she had been certain that it was Aurelia's voice she had heard, she understood nothing of what was happening.
"Aren't you so perfect and sweet, my pet?" came the soft, throaty murmur she had recognized a few moments before.
Janet felt her body tense and she held her breath in anticipation. A shadow preceded the figure as it moved into her vision and the young girl almost gasped as Aurelia Storm stepped into view.
The woman was wearing the strangest outfit the girl had ever seen. It was all of molded black leather, a garment that covered nearly all her body and fit snugly against her lines and curves.
It buttoned up tightly in the back, and moved in rippling undulations as the woman walked. The only open places on the garment were two round holes for her breasts and a slight triangle at her loins. Her head was covered completely by a cowl, with an open place that revealed her face.
Her hair was pulled through a small hole at the top of the cowl, and her hands and legs were completely covered by sleeves and gloves that were of one-piece. Just looking at her in the garment made Janet shiver in wonder.
Even more fascinating, though it embarrassed the girl a little just to be staring at it, was Aurelia's loins. Bared, she could see that they were shaven completely clean of all pubic hair.
The mound was rippling slightly with obvious excitement, the vaginal lips quivering as if in need. Moisture covered the pink folds of flesh, as it did the rosy buds of the woman's nipples.
Aurelia was standing in front of the kneeling young woman now, gazing down at her rather grimly. She nodded her head a couple of times, placing her hands on her hips in a commanding stance.
"And now, my pet, are you ready to be disciplined?" she growled harshly.
The young woman nodded rather eagerly, her eyes bright with anticipation. Her lips trembled as she tried to speak, clearly excited by the prospect of whatever the imposing figure above her meant.
"Yes, my Mistress," she moaned rather thickly. "I am here to receive the gift of your punishment, as it will be."
Aurelia Storm nodded in approval. "First you must bare yourself before me, pig," she hissed. "Not to be naked for my pleasure is a sign of disrespect!"
Quickly the young woman pulled her nightgown over her head, revealing her sweaty body to the older woman's eyes. Her breasts jiggled with the labored pattern of her breathing, and the nipples were as hard as two tiny pebbles with excitement.
Janet could see, now that the young woman's loins were easily as damp and glistening as Aurelia's and this increased her wonder and confusion at what was going on between the two of them in the room.
She did not understand any of this 'mistress' and punishment business, but from her own body's unconscious tensing, she could tell that something very strange and vivid was happening just beyond the door.
Aurelia walked slowly to the mantel piece above the fire place and took down a length of satin sash and a long, thick handled riding crop. She returned to the kneeling young woman and stood before her, boldly once more.
Eagerly, it seemed, the young woman lifted up her arms and held them out to the other, her wrists touching. The woman wrapped the satin sash around her wrists, though in binding her, she did not bother to make it tight.
The tying was largely ceremonious, thought Janet as she watched the action. The young woman's breathing then seemed to increase in frenzy as Aurelia paced back and forth in front of her rather nervously.
"You have been lax in your efforts to please me, pig," she was growling at the patient young woman. "I am very displeased with you."
"Ohh, Mistress, I am so sorry," the young woman mumbled in despair. "I ... I know how unworthy I am of your love!"
"Yes, scum, you surely are," snarled the older woman, cracking the riding crop hard against her leather gloved palm.
To Janet's ears this all sounded very much like a familiar ritual they performed. She peered more intently into the room, then, pressing her eye tight to the key hole as Aurelia now stood behind the kneeling young woman.
"What must your punishment be, then, pig?" growled Aurelia coldly.
"Ohh, Mistress, please, please, discipline me, now," moaned the young woman, softly. "Show me you still love me, Mistress, give me the gift of your punishment."
"Why should I bother with you anymore?" hissed the woman teasingly.
The girl seemed to sob in horror and despair. Desperately she twisted her head around to stare at the woman. "I need it, Mistress. Ohh, God I need it, now," she sobbed. "Give me it, I beg of you."
It was easy to see that Aurelia was taunting the young girl, for she was tapping on the woman's shoulders with the riding crop, and " er voice held a harsh, cruel laugh as she spoke.
"You are a pig, though, aren't you?" she murmured. "A worthless bag of flesh that isn't good enough to lick my boots, right, scum?"
Aurelia's voice was growing in volume and intensity, becoming almost fierce and wild as she spoke. Janet could not believe that she actually meant to beat the young woman, but things seemed to be leading up to that.
"I should cast you out, shouldn't I, pig," Aurelia snarled. "I should thrown you out of my house and let you waste away by yourself."
The young girl was clearly sobbing in fear and horror then. Her head was bowed low and her body trembling with the effects of her crying. It seemed that Aurelia's threat was the worst thing she could think of happening to her.
"I know, Mistress, I know," she cried agonizingly. "I am scum, not worthy enough to grovel at your feet. Have mercy, Mistress, I beg of you."
Aurelia grunted harshly. "You are lucky, pig," she whispered intently. "Lucky that I have such a kind heart."
She stepped back a bit and measured the distance between them with the tip of the riding crop. Slowly she ran it up and down the length of the girl's spine, and the young woman shivered in expectation.
"Shall I discipline you now, worthless bitch?" she snarled savagely.
Frantically the young woman nodded. "Yes, please. Mistress, give me my punishment now, I beg of you," she moaned.
"If I do, what will it mean to you, bitch?" hissed the older woman, grimly.
"It will mean you love me, Mistress," the younger one, sobbed. "Ohh, God, it will mean I still have some favor in your eyes."
Clearly this pleased Aurelia, for she began to chuckle in a cold, yet delighted manner. She nodded several times and set her feet firmly on the carpet. She leaned forward a bit and whispered harshly.
"Perpare to be punished then, scum," she growled fiercely. "And be grateful that your Mistress loves you enough to do so."
Janet watched as Aurelia drew back and at the same time, the girl kneeling in front of her stiffened her body to receive the first blow. From the tensing of her flesh, it was obviously she was anticipating it, eagerly.
Carefully, Aurelia raised the riding crop above her head and brought it down hard against the naked expanse of the young woman's shoulders. The sound of harsh leather greeting flesh filled the air with a sickening, wet smack.
The girl gasped in pain, her body shuddering violently from the blow, and even from across the room and in the dimness of the light, Janet could see an ugly welt already raising up on her flesh.
"Scum, you need to suffer for disobeying me," snarled Aurelia, lashing downward again with the crop. "On your hands and knees for punishment, slut!"
Quickly the girl complied and swayed back and forth as the older woman brought the crop down harshly against her buttocks and shoulders, working it swiftly up and down the length of her spine.
The girl did not scream, but her gasps of agony were loud enough to make Janet's stomach turn. What terrified and totally amazed the young woman, was that the girl in the room could endure this, so willingly.
"Thank you, Mistress, thank you," sobbed the girl breathlessly. "Ohh, God, thank you so much, my blessed Mistress."
Her voice was broken and weak, quivering with the strain of the suffering she had to be enduring. What shocked Janet was her sincerity, for it was clear to her that the girl was not merely pretending to please the woman, but truly meant what she said.
"Animal, slut, scum," growled Aurelia savagely. "Your worthless flesh belongs to me, and don't ever forget it again, pig!"
Again and again she brought the crop down against the girl's flesh. The sound of it smashing and cracking against the smooth, tapered body on its hand and knees before her roared in Janet's ears, horribly.
Never in her life had she witnessed such an event and it amazed and sickened her at the same time. Why was the girl enduring this, she wondered? What did Aurelia want of her, do to this thing to her.
As the riding crop rose and fell relentlessly, the girl continuded to buck and sway with the blows and continued to moan in obvious satisfaction. Her gasps were more of pleasure than of pain, Janet realized.
"Who is your Mistress, scum," snarled the woman as she lashed brutally at the girl's trembling buttocks.
"You are, my blessed Mistress," the girl sobbed through her agony.
Aurelia laughed and lashed at her bottom once more, making the young girl nearly fall forward from the impact of the blow. "Remember that, scum," she growled. "For without me, you are nothing!"
Janet tore her eyes away from the key hole at last and rose trembling to her feet. Carefully she walked away from the door and headed swiftly up the stairs to her room.
As she slipped back under the covers, she hugged a pillow tightly to her chest. Whatever was going on in this house, it was clearly beyond the things that she understood as proper and correct.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next morning at breakfast, the fact that struck her the most, was how normal everyone seemed to be acting. Janet sat in almost awe as the meal was served, and no one seemed to find anything amiss.
The one shock was that the girl serving the meal was the same she had seen the night before in the parlor with Aurelia. She was smiling warmly as she brought each of the people seated at the table their plates.
When she passed between Aurelia and Janet, who was seated on the woman's right, the young girl watched closely to see their reactions to each other. To her surprise, not even a glance was passed between them.
Aurelia tasted the coffee and nodded coldly. "It is acceptable," she murmured. "You may bring the rest."
The serving girl, a student named Betty, Janet later learned, bowed low. "Very good, Mistress," she whispered and then slipped out of the room.
Aurelia glanced over at Janet, smiling grimly. "We run a very tight and structured establishment here, as I told you last night," she said, quietly.
"Aurelia believes in setting down the rules early," Brad Taylor said from the far end of the table.
The black-haired woman nodded. "It is important that these students learn discipline from the start," she explained. "Otherwise, they can be taught nothing."
She waved a hand about the table. "All of the teachers here," she continued. "Have failed in their lives, they owe their recent success to me.
Janet followed her hand, glancing at the half dozen other women and men around the table.
Aside from Brad Taylor, they all seemed to be avoiding her gaze, as if in deep embarrassment.
Aurelia Storm chuckled softly. "I will not go into their individual failures, now," she murmured. "But believe me, if it weren't for my hiring them, they would all be begging in the street."
There was a trace of smug cruelty in the woman's voice that disturbed Janet. To her ears, it sounded as if Aurelia was enjoying taunting her employees, having a good laugh at their expense.
"We all make mistakes in our lives," the girl whispered quietly. "I've made a few myself, Miss Storm."
Aurelia glared at her. "There is no excuse for failure," she growled. "The only benefit is punishment for being unworthy."
Janet blinked in confusion. "Punishment?" she murmured darkly.
Abruptly, Aurelia nodded. "Yes, discipline and punishment for failure is the key to success," she growled. "Through punishment, one learns not to make the same mistakes again."
"That doesn't account for any ignorance," the girl argued. "That doesn't take into consideration one's natural ability to be in error."
"Nonsense," hissed the woman. "In this world, we have not time for such notions. The premise of punishment has existed since the beginning to time."
"I always thought you punished someone for knowingly doing something wrong," the girl said quietly.
"Aurelia believes in nipping that in the bud," chuckled Brad Taylor. "If you take care of that early, she feels it won't happen again."
"Exactly," the woman snarled. "Pain is a great teacher, my dear, you will learn that, as time goes on."
"Just what am I supposed to do here?" Janet asked, finally. "I couldn't really understand from the job description."
Aurelia smiled almost warmly. "For the present, you shall largely observe," she murmured. "I want you to learn all there is to know about my methods."
Her eyes were alive and nearly blazing behind the cool, casual mask of her smile, and Janet felt a slight queasiness in her belly as she remembered what she had observed the night before in the parlor.
Aurelia patted her hand affectionately. "My dear child, you have so much to learn," she whispered. "Before you can become worthy of being my assistant."
Janet shivered at the thought, for the unspoken dread she had experienced was with her then, and she began to wonder if she wanted to be this woman's assistant, even without knowing what that meant.
Aurelia nodded toward Brad Taylor. "Dr. Taylor will inform you in more detail, concerning our students. It is enough for you to know, now, that we are dealing with the sorriest elements possible."
The girl Betty had just served their coffee once more, exchanging used cups for fresh ones. Aurelia caught her arm and she stood fast as the woman indicated her with a nod of her head.
"This little creature comes from a rather well-to-do family and was quite the little terror when she arrived, weren't you, Betty?"
The girl nodded primly. "Yes, Mistress, I was a total bitch," she said almost brightly. "I was just horrible, truly, I was."
Aurelia laughed. "But that's all changed now, isn't it, my dear?" she murmured.
"Ohh, yes, Mistress," agreed the girl. "I'm so much better and happier, now that I have learned respect and good manners."
Aurelia released the girl's wrist from her grip and nodded to her. She turned back to gaze intently at Janet once more. "You see?" she hissed. "She has learned, a bit, of her place."
The girl had been so meek and subservient, that Janet could hardly imagine her ever being a willful bitch, as Aurelia claimed. There was clear love and submissiveness in her bearing with the woman, as if nothing else mattered in the world to her.
"She seems to enjoy serving you," Janet said off-handedly.
Aurelia grunted harshly. "As well she should, for serving a mistress can be a truly rewarding experience."
Janet shook her head. "You talk as if she were your slave or something.' Aurelia laughed again, this time more coldly. "In a way, she is," she growled. "For you will learn, my dear Miss Westerly, that some are born to master and some are born to serve, it is always thus in this world."
Janet wanted to argue with her, but she held her tongue. It did not seem wise to get into a disagreement with her employer this early in their relationship. She didn't know enough yet, to challenge Aurelia Storm, she felt.
In the young woman's mind, she was being presented with a sort of job far beyond anything she might have thought it might be, and knowing all the facts seemed to be the wisest course for her to follow.
"When you deal with self-indulgent, petty scum, you have to rule with an iron hand," Aurelia was telling her. "You must lay down the law quickly, and force them to conform to your rules."
She glared at the rest of them at the table and kept her stern gaze as she returned her eyes to the girl at her right. Janet felt herself almost withering under the woman's penetrating glare.
"Teach them to respect discipline and order," Aurelia hissed. "And you will be able to teach them anything. Teach them to respect you, and they will learn to love you, unquestioningly."
"In other words," chuckled Brad Taylor. "Get them by the balls and their hearts and minds will follow."
Janet gasped, for it seemed that the young doctor was obviously teasing Aurelia, but when she gazed at the woman, she saw only a controlled seriousness on her face, whatever anger there might be, carefully hidden behind her tight smile.
"That is a rather crude way of putting it, but correct in any case," she said. "When you train some one to serve, you must own their soul as well as their flesh."
Janet sighed, shaking her head in dismay. "This is all too much for me," she murmured. "I'm getting a little confused."
Once more Aurelia patted her hand, her manner turning affectionate and warm. "No matter, my dear," she chuckled. "You will come to see the right of things in due time, I promise you."
Janet nodded in agreement, but inside she felt, a raging anger that she could not completely understand. Truly, Aurelia Storm was somewhat of an elitest, something she didn't like in any case, but it was something deeper than that, that worried her.
Somehow, even at this bright and relaxed breakfast table, Janet felt an underlying tension. Then too, she felt herself being drawn into something, a sort of web of thought and idea she didn't understand.
That she felt afraid, she understood, clearly, but she did not know of what. She couldn't believe it was really fear of Aurelia, for the woman, beyond being her employer, had no real power over her.
After all, she reasoned, she could leave any time she wanted to. If she did not like it there, she could get up and go that very morning. Not that she had any intentions of doing that, but somehow, staying was not altogether voluntary, it seemed.
She felt compelled to remain, even beyond that fact that it would be foolish to leave before she even started. She felt herself drawn to Aurelia Storm's strange power, she realized, and that was what bothered her.
She didn't like feeling this sense of helplessness. This vague, disquieting feeling that she was not all together in charge of her own emotions. That the woman could be pulling invisible strings in her, bothered her greatly.
She stared at Aurelia Storm intently then, feeling the power more fully than ever before. Clearly the woman was the strongest person she ever met, and from the looks of the others around the table, she was in control of them to some degree, Even Brad Taylor, she realized, was in part under her command. His very joking manner, his teasing remarks were those of a man chafing at the bit that holds him, rather than the words of an independent being.
All these thoughts and emotions frightened and confused the young woman, for she knew that every moment she remained in the house, she too would be drawn deeper and deeper into the web of Aurelia's world.
She sighed in relief when the woman finally signaled that breakfast was concluded. Aurelia stood and nodded at the others, then turned and smiled at Janet. Her eyes narrowed a bit, as if she knew something about her, that even the girl did not know herself.
"Dr. Taylor and I have some business to attend to," Aurelia whispered quietly. "For the morning, I would like you to just look around and get familiar with the operation. The staff will answer any of your questions."
Janet nodded. "I'm very eager to get to work," she said, honestly. "I can't wait to see if I can be of value here."
Aurelia smiled warmly and nodded. "I know, my dear, that's why I selected you in the first place," she murmured. "I knew from the start you were going to be a very valuable addition to my staff."
She nodded to the others once more, and they quickly began to file out of the room. As Janet reached the door, Aurelia called to her. f "I will speak with you again after lunch, my dear," she said evenly. "You should understand more, by then."
The words had an ominous ring to them, but before Janet could reply, the woman and Brad Taylor had disappeared into the parlor and shut the door behind them, leaving her standing, painfully alone with her worries and doubts.
Once in the parlor, the woman quickly led the way to the bookcase with the tunnel concealed behind it. They made their way down the winding, narrow stairs swiftly, and through the narrow corridor to the punishment chamber.
"I don't like it," Brad Taylor growled. "She questions too much."
Aurelia laughed, coldly. "You fool, that's in her favor," she growled. "A decent slave has to be that way. The more alive and interesting, the better a final product once she has been trained."
"A girl like that could be trouble," grumbled Brad coldly. "She could blow the lid off your little operations, Aurelia."
The woman stopped and turned, glaring at him. "I don't need dull idiots serving me, Bradley," she hissed. "Drones I can find anywhere. My assistant has to be intelligent . and eager. That's the only way she will be able to be of use to me."
Brad started to say something else, but Aurelia had already entered the room where she disciplined her charges and he realized that it would be useless to talk to her. Grimly, he entered the large, damp chamber behind her.
Quickly, and without embarrassment, Aurelia stripped off her robe and nightgown and slipped into her leather outfit. She saw him staring at her and shook her head in irritation, hissing at him impatiently.
"Stop gawking at what you'll never get, Bradley," she growled. "Fetch me the Dorsey bitch, it's time we proceeded in her training."
He nodded grimly and turned away from her. By the time Aurelia was finished buttoning up the back of her leather garment, he had led the quivering young woman into the room and was holding her by the arms.
Aurelia smiled at the girl, coldly. "So pig, you have recovered from your first taste of discipline, humm," she growled. "Are you ready to receive more?"
Tearing herself away from Brad, the young woman fell to her knees before Aurelia. "Please, Mistress, no more pain," she moaned. "I can't stand any more, I beg of you!"
"On your feet scum," Aurelia snarled savagely. "Your begging and pleading is false and empty, you cannot escape what you must endure!"
The girl screamed as Brad Tayor took hold of her hands and dragged her to her feet. Pushing and shoving, he forced her across the room to an upright wooden box that was leaned against the wall.
The box was fitted at the top and bottom with a pair of shackles that hung from the eave of the top and the enclosed base of the bottom. While the girl sobbed breathlessly, Brad quickly shackled her wrists and ankles.
He stood up again and nodded at Aurelia. "She's ready," he hissed. "And I hope this does the trick."
The woman laughed coldly as she approached the bound girl, and nodded her head in certainty. "Don't worry, Bradley," she whispered. "No one escapes my training forever, in the end, they all submit, willingly, to my control."
As the young woman began to sweat in total fear, Aurelia went first to a small table a few feet from the box where she was trapped and withdrew a thick long needle and a long length of heavy thread.
She carried this over to where the girl was and held them up in front of her eyes. "I always have believed in the power of symbols, scum," she murmured coldly. "They are very useful in proving points."
"Ohh, God, Mistress, please," the young woman sobbed, pulling back from the sharp, gleaming instrument that Aurelia was holding. "God, please, no more pain, Mistress, no more pain!"
Aurelia chuckled coldly. "You silly bitch, you still don't understand, do you?" she hissed. "Pain is the key to everything, scum, the key to the joyous surrender I offer you."
She threaded the needle before the girl's eyes and pulled it taut. "You see, my sweet, I must prove you are bound to me," she murmured. "Prove that you cannot be freed of my power and command. Thus, I must use this thread to show you what I mean."
"No ... no Mistress, please don't," the girl pleaded wildly. "Ohh, God, I'll do anything, Mistress, I swear I will."
"You foolish pig, I don't want you out of fear and loathing," snapped the woman. "I want you freely, eagerly to embrace my control. You haven't reached that stage yet, pig, so I must help you!"
She nodded at Brad Taylor and he came forward. He took hold of the girl's body at the small of her back and pulled her away from the interior of the box. She screamed, struggling weakly as he held her in his grip.
"With this thread, I shall bind you to me," whispered Aurelia. "And the pain shall tell you of what you must feel to enjoy my love!"
The girl screamed as Aurelia slid the needle through the flesh of her back just below her shoulder blades. The pain was savage and fierce as the woman grimly pulled the thread through her punctured flesh and slipped the needle through an open slat in the back of the box.
The girl jerked and shuddered with the fierce agony, but both the woman and man ignored her sobs of agony, concentrating on their tasks. Quickly, Aurelia drove the needle through the flesh at the base of the girl's spine and once more slipped the thread through a slat in the back.
She tied it off in a knot then slipped around in front of her again. "See how trapped you are now, my pet?" she laughed, cruelly. "You are already bound by my will, now I shall make it even more apparent to you!' The girl could hardly breathe for the pain she was suffering, she moaned and gasped, jerking spasmodically and giving herself even more pain as she moved the harsh, raw thread through her flesh with her movements.
"The pain is the basic teacher, my sweet," Aurelia whispered coldly. "You must learn both things quickly. That pain is the foundation of learning and pleasure, and being bound to my will is all that you require to exist!"
With that, she began to thread the needle through the flesh of the girl's upper right arm, then draw it downward to the top of her breast. The girl was screaming savagely, then, kicking uselessly and trying helplessly to pull away from the horrible effects of the sewing together of her flesh.
Aurelia was calm as she rode the needle through the girl's upper arm once more, then down through the top of her chest. She pulled the thread all the way through the girl's body, then quickly did the same with the other breast and arm.
The pain screamed in Lily Dorsey's flesh with a blazing fire. She gazed down through the tears in her eyes, shocked and horrified at the way her arms were sewn to her breasts by this time.
She was shuddering out of control, every jerk and thrash of her body giving her more and more agony. It throbbed unceasingly, even after Aurelia had tied off the knot and stepped away from her.
"Now, through this thread, you are bound to me," hissed the woman coldly. "You are no longer a part of only yourself, but are entwined, unescapably with my will."
She reached out and plucked on the twine, making the girl scream even louder with the cruel, tearing effect of the thread slicing back and forth inside of her flesh. Laughing, she nodded coldly.
"The pain is horrible, it hurts and humiliates you, and that is good," she growled. "Only by more and more suffering shall you weaken to the point of surrender. Only through pain shall you come to love me."
For Lily Dorsey, her mind was already reeling with the overwhelming power of her agony. More and more, she was losing control of her mind, unable to fight the ravaging effects of her pain.
To her, the voice of the woman so cruelly abusing her became swiftly, the only thing she could hold onto. The soft, purring insistence of Aurelia's voice become the center of reality in her swirling madness.
"As the pain weakens you, it also begins to thrill you," the woman was murmuring. "The worse it gets the more familiar and compelling it becomes."
It was true. Lily writhed in the grip of her savage and fierce suffering and the pain began to become more and more the one thing she could hold on to in her flesh. The sensation of agonized suffering became more real to her than any pleasure she had known.
"Soon you will realize that pain is everything," whispered Aurilea softly. "Soon, you will yearn to suffer agony, for it will be all you can depend on."
Lily Dorsey wailed with the throbbing in her flesh, more out of fear, now than even the suffering itself. To her horror, her mind was slipping out of her control, as if her sense of will was sand slithering through her fingers.
"When it becomes good to suffer," Aurelia hissed at her intently. "Then you shall be ready to love me."
Lily shivered with her agony, sobbing as she realized how true that was. Already she depended on Aurelia's voice for her one link to the real world. Through the mist of her agony, she understood only, that love could not be far behind;
CHAPTER FIVE
For Janet, her first day in Storm house was quite revealing indeed. Though she had heard a great deal about it, nothing had prepared her for how the operation was run, that would have been impossible.
She quickly learned that the school was more than just orderly. It was operated nearly like a prison or military base. Everyone took their orders with unquestioning obedience, the threat of punishment always there.
Even with the strict upbringing she had lived through as a child, she was not ready to see people so blindly functioning as the students and staff of Aurelia Storm's school did.
The students in the classrooms stood at attention until told to seat themselves by the instructor, and even then, sat ram-rod straight in their chairs. There wasn't even the hint of idle chatter in the rooms, before or during a lesson.
Having student-taught in a rather rowdy series of public schools, she could well appreciate the discipline she found in these classrooms. Such orderly students would be a welcome relief.
But it still disturbed her, despite the pleasure of knowing they would behave, for their strict and formal manner was almost chilling to observe. She often could not tell whether they were acting out of fear, or something even darker in motive.
She had expected, given the nature of the students that Aurelia took on, a rather lively bunch of girls. That some were even from the local prison, transferred to her for training, even made that more likely, it seemed.
But there was almost no sign of that, and what was more revealing, was the look of total fear and concern whenever an instructor would cast a disapproving eye at one of the girls.
That they lived in either fear, or perhaps a sort of worship of the mistress of this house made Janet's stomach lurch with an awesome sense of worry and confusion. The hold Aurelia had over them, was obviously quite compelling.
Then too, the atmosphere seemed charged with the woman's presence even when she wasn't there. A couple of times, Aurelia sat in on this class or that for a few moments, but the mood changed only a little when she was there.
It got a bit more tense, perhaps, with both student and teacher alike straining to carry themselves in the best manner possible, but even when she left, the air was alive with her, and the powerful force of her control lingered in the room.
It would be easy enough for the girl to understand, if it had been merely a feeling of fear that pervaded the atmosphere of the house. But clearly it was not fear alone that motivated these people.
Some of the older girls, a few that had been there longer than most, seemed to absolutely worship and adore the woman that was their mistress. Janet could see the love in their eyes whenever they saw her.
The look they had was that of a nearly religious fever. As if no one else in the world existed for them, but Aurelia Storm. This kind of devotion was unseemly to Janet, it went a bit too far beyond the boundaries of respect, for her tastes.
But she was in no position to comment, and she kept her tongue, perferring to listen and observe instead. She knew she had to learn as much as she could in as short a time as possible, and she tried hard not to be judgemental.
Some of the girls, whose case histories she had learned, had clearly been changed by being in Aurelia's charge. One or two had been criminals, addicts and whores, but you could not tell that from the way they acted now.
They were perhaps the most slavish in their devotion to Aurelia. They never referred to her as anything other than Mistress, and when they spoke, the love and total devotion was quite clear in their voices.
"Mistress Aurelia saved my life," murmured one girl to Janet. "She gave me the only worthwhile reason to live."
Since they were somewhat alone, at least out of earshot of the class's instructor, Janet felt comfortable in pressing her. "What reason is that?" she asked, casually.
The girl laughed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Why, to serve her loyally, of course," she giggled, happily.
"What do you mean by that?" Janet persisted, intrigued, as well as worried by the girl's response.
Sighing impatiently, the girl continued. "To serve my Mistress is all I ever need for a reason to exist," she said, sincerely. "I don't have to know or think about anything else, can't you see?"
Janet muttered that she could, but left the girl with a dark worry growing even more fiercely in her heart. She could not fathom how creating such loyal and yes, slavish devotion in these girls was going to prepare them for life.
It was almost as if the intention was to do just the opposite. Not to mold and shape the girls to go out into the world and fend for themselves, but instead, to bind them tighter and tighter to Aurelia's control and sphere.
She shook her head as she walked away from the girl, for clearly there was much more that she had to learn. But each time she sat in on a class, the powerful meaning of Aurelia Storm's demand for loyalty above all else was driven home to her.
As she had seen, the school was run as much like a prison or military camp as anything she had ever seen. There were rules for nearly everything, and they had to be strictly obeyed.
Time was divided into the smallest of segments, each minute meaning something had to be done, and each person had to be somewhere doing it. Any infraction of the rules earned a demerit, she learned, and these little marks were dreaded above all else.
Five demerits, she learned, earned a punishment session. When she inquired what the punishment might be, she was given vague and confusing answers. Clearly, no one wanted to tell her directly what they meant.
Having witnessed what she had the night before, Janet could well imagine what form the punishment would take. The beating she had observed had been cruel and painful, though of course, the girl that received it had not seemed to mind it.
In fact, looking back on it, she realized now, how eagerly the young woman had approached her discipline. As if she could think of nothing else that would be more enjoyable than to be beaten by her Mistress. Naturally, Janet could not accept this idea as fact. That anyone would look forward to a session with the riding crop was insane to her. She knew that there were people in this world that enjoyed pain as a source of pleasure, but she could not believe the girl she had seen last night was one of those.
In any case, the girl had taken her punishment with something other than an enjoyment of pain. Her response had been something else, Janet knew. It had come from the same sort of love that she witnessed in the other girls.
That was most distressing to her. This kind of devotion, crossing the boundaries of suffering, coming to a culmination in a sense of thrilling and passionate acceptance of pain was just too much for the girl to consider.
She tried to ease her doubts by considering that nearly all the girls in the school had some sort of emotional problem. Those that were not from the criminal element, mostly came from the upper classes of society she learned.
Most of them were problems at home, she found out, and had been shipped there to learn a little discipline and concern for other people's feelings. It was like a very rich and exclusive finishing school for adults, she realized.
At lunch, Aurelia elaborated on this topic. "What we do here, is mold the minds of regressive women into those of proper young ladies," she explained. "Our task is to take the self-centered and spoiled and open them up to the glories of self-sacrifice."
She indicated the girl serving them, again, Betty. "Betty here, as I have told you, was very spoiled and self-indulgent. In desperation her family sent her to me."
She went on to explain that Betty had defied her parents' wishes and married a young man of no means and greedy temperment. He was only out for their money, Aurelia said, and that was the final straw.
"They have annulled the marriage, of course, but that did not solve the problem," she told her. "What we have to do, is insure it will never happen again."
"How can you do that?" asked Janet, guessing, somehow at the response.
Aurelia laughed. "By making sure that when she leaves here, the last person she will consider in anything she does, is herself," she explained.
"That would seem to be a rather hard thing to do," Janet said. "Especially considering her age and personality."
Aurelia nodded grimly. "That is why my methods must be so unorthodox," she agreed. "We have to break down all the walls, literally, wash their minds clean of the poison of self-concern."
She told Janet that only by completely erasing their years of spoiled, haughty meanness, could they ever hope to mold their minds into what they should be. Only by stripping away all their layers of protection could they begin to teach them.
We take them to a basic nakedness,' Aurelia whispered. "Leave them empty with only us to cling to. Then we begin."
The final result was always the same, she said confidently. Some took longer than others, but by the time they left, they were totally loyal to whomever had control of them. They loved their masters and mistresses completely.
"But ... but that just makes them mindless robots," argued the young woman.
Aurelia shook her head, coldly. "No, robots function out of fear or reprisal," she disagreed. "My girls act out of love, complete and total love. There is a big, and very important difference."
Love was everything, she explained. Love was the foundation of her control. Those that were loyal to her had gone way beyond any sort of fear. In fact, fear did not exist for them any longer.
"They would do anything for me," she said. "They would not be hesitant to obey my command for a moment. You see, the only thing that they truly fear, is not pleasing me, and even then, such an idea never enters their minds."
Janet was impressed, at least by the idea. She had known plenty of mean and petty people in her life. She had been abused, as all people are, buy the cruel and selfish. To change such an attitude was truly an accomplishment, she thought.
For her, the ideas and possibilities were truly intriguing.' She tried to imagine herself having such power and control, and simply could not. Being shy and withdrawn, she never dreamed she herself would be able to control people to any great extent.
She fantasized such things, of course, often dreamed to being able to bend people to her will. As a child it began with her parents, and later on, extended to her fellow classmates in school.
She had always been a follower that yearned to be a leader, though she despised herself for having such desires. One should give of oneself, she thought, and not want so much from other people.
But still, she was excited by the possibilities, she could not deny that, and found her mood changing a little. She no longer dreaded the place as much as when she first arrived, and had to admit a certain eagerness to see Aurelia in action.
"You spoke of pain, before," she murmured at the table, after Aurelia had dismissed the other guests. "What did you mean by that?"
The woman narrowed her eyes, carefully. "That is a delicate subject, my dear," she whispered quietly. "For it is the key to all of my power, you see."
"Do you think all people have to endure pain to learn, then?" Janet persisted.
The woman laughed coldly. "More than likely, yes," she said. "But then again, I have yet to have the chance to prove my theories beyond this tiny establishment."
"I still don't understand you completely," the girl murmured. "I'm still rather confused as to what you mean."
Aurelia nodded, and gazed thoughtfully beyond the table. She turned back and gazed more intently at the girl now. "Pain unlocked the basis for all sensations," she whispered. "Pain is the beginning of all we feel."
"It's certainly the most vivid sensation we have," agreed Janet.
"It's much, much more than that," the woman said. "It has all the secrets hidden within it. It holds the key to everything, and thus, is the main ingredient of my training."
"How so?" the girl said, quite aware of the trembling quiver in her voice.
The dining room was rather dark and silent in that moment, and Janet was aware of the sound of their breathing. Hers was harsh and almost labored, while Aurelia's was more controlled and steady, though brimming with nearly as much excitement.
"Come, I will show you what I mean," whispered the woman, rising from her chair.
She walked swiftly to the parlor and Janet followed along behind her. In the small, comfortable room, Brad Taylor was standing with a couple of the other instructors, and two nurses that were holding a young woman by the arms.
From the look in his eyes, that quickly became frantic and concerned, Janet could tell he had not expected her to enter the room with Aurelia. The other woman gave not notice of his doubt.
She turned and pointed to the woman Brad was holding onto, while whispering intently to Janet. "That little bitch over there has refused to take orders this morning," she growled. "She must be taught a lesson."
The young woman, her eyes quivering with just a bit of fear, struggled weakly in Brad's grasp. At her command, the man quickly stripped her slight shift from her body, and Janet gasped in shock as she saw her damp nakedness.
"Do not be alarmed," murmured Aurelia. "You are going to witness a demonstration of just exactly what we were speaking of."
The two nurses came over to where the woman and Brad were standing then, and took hold of her arms. As they held her fast, Brad quickly slid a pair of thigh-high leather boots over her long, tapered legs.
She moaned, struggling a bit more as he forced a tight leather cowl over her head that was connected to a waist band of wide leather, by a pair of thin straps. When all this was forced on the young woman, the two nurses lead her over to a thick, wide pole that stood in the center of the room.
They bound her to the pole by means of two straps, locking her arms behind her at the wrists and elbows. The young woman was sweating fiercely, then, and her eyes blinking wildly as Aurelia approached her.
"Well, bitch, you have gone out of your way to earn your punishment today, haven't you?" she growled. "Don't you worry, pig, you're going to get what you so justly deserve! You will get what a worthless pig deserves!"
In her hands she was carrying two vicious-looking instruments, that she now held up in front of the trembling young woman's eyes. The young woman moaned as she saw them, her body jerking uncontrollably with fear.
One of the objects in her hands was a curved blade of shiny, slender steel, sharpened to a razor edge. This, Aurelia. fit into a slot at the top of the waist band of the young woman's outfit, so that the hooked edge of the blade rested beneath her breasts.
The other object was more sinister, and Janet could not help but gulp in a rather sickened terror as she gazed at the cruel instrument. It was perhap three feet long and . an inch thick.
It was molded of hard plastic and studded with vicious-looking spikes. It had a screw at one end and a fat, pronged head at the other and Aurelia chuckled grimly as she brought it down to the young woman's crotch.
"Disobedience deserves punishment, does it not, scum?" she growled coldly at the young woman. "Answer me, you pig!"
Quickly the woman nodded. "Yes ... yes, Mistress," she moaned. "But ... but I didn't mean it, I swear I didn't!"
"Don't he to me, pig," snarled Aurelia savagely. "In the first place, you would not have disobeyed had you not meant to; and in the second place, if you truly loved me, you would not fear this so."
With that, she forced the studded pole between the young woman's thighs. The woman screamed in fear and pain as the needle sharp tips sliced across her flesh, and she desperately tried to lift her body up and away from the ugly tool.
Aurelia ignored her, concentrating on screwing the length of rubber into the upright beam. When she had it in place, she stepped back and regarded the quivering young woman with a grim satisfaction in her eyes.
"Were you as loyal as your profess to be," she murmured. "You would be more than eager to accept your punishment."
"Ohh, Mistress, I'm so afraid," the young woman moaned. "I ... I just can't, Mistress! Ohh, God, I can't!"
"Then I shall have to help you," snarled Aurelia coldly. She reached up and suddenly shoved down hard on the girl's shoulders.
Janet leaped back in horror as she watched the spikes driving into the girl's thighs and pubic areas as Aurelia shoved down brutally on the young woman's shoulders. The ugly spears penetrated the flesh in a dozen places, and her screams were fierce.
Writhing in agony, she jerked forward, driving the tip of the curved blade beneath her breasts deep into one spongy globe. She screamed again and pulled back, thrashing involuntarily in her suffering.
"Always you try and escape my training," hissed Aurelia coolly. "And always, you must be reminded that it is the only thing for you to accept."
"Ohh, God, Mistress, I know, I know," gasped the girl, jerking violently, and moving the studded spikes against her thighs and loins.
"It's ... so. ... hard ... and ... I ... am ... so unworthy!"
Aurelia nodded grimly. "You must love the pain, for it comes from me," she hissed softly. "All pain comes from my hand, and thus must be accepted, happily."
The girl was not writhing so violently, now, and Janet looked on with wide, shocked eyes as she seemed to be settling herself, gingerly down on the vicious spikes. Vaguely, it reminded her of someone getting used to a tub of steaming hot water.
After a few moments, Janet began to realize that the young woman was desperately trying to accommodate her flesh to the fierce and horrible effects of the stabbing spikes and slicing blade.
The pain had to be fierce and terrible, she was certain, and she found herself mesmerised with wonder as she watched the girl frantically trying to force herself to endure the agony, willingly.
"Do not fight it," murmured Aurelia's softly. "Surrender to it, become familiar with the agony, learn to take your pleasure from it!"
"Help me, Mistress," groaned the young woman, thickly. "Help me become your loyal slave, Mistress, I beg of you!"
Her voice was strained and broken, but totally honest and passionate, Janet could tell. It was astounding to see the woman so frantically trying to get used to the horrible suffering she was feeling.
Aurelia nodded and pushed down on the girl's shoulders once more, again driving the spikes into her thighs and loins, and the sharp, curved blade back into the lower portion of one breast.
The girl scream anew, but this time did not jerk away. Her whole body strained with the effort to remain in place, to keep the horrible, stabbing prongs and spear from pulling free of her defenseless flesh.
"Hold fast, my pig," Aurelia murmured softly. "Keep the pain with you for as long as you can! Take hold of it and make it a part of you, now, scum!"
"I'm ... I'm trying ... Mistress," sobbed the girl, shuddering violently in her savage agony. "Ohh, God, I'm ... I'm trying."
"I know my pet," murmured Aurelia affectionately. "I can see you are, and it pleases me greatly. You have accepted your punishment, and made me quite happy, little pig. I am proud of you!"
As the young woman sobbed a final time and pulled herself away from the spikes and embedded blade, Aurelia turned to gaze fiercely at Janet. Their eyes met and locked in a fierce, compelling stare.
"Do you understand a little more, now?" the woman growled. "To give themselves to pain, to know it, feel it, and ultimately accept it willingly, is the first and most important barrier they must cross!"
Janet glanced at the young woman, now slumped with exhaustion on the pole, and for the first time she began to realize what Aurelia was talking about. Her emotions were conflicting and racing through her wildly, but she knew one thing for certain.
Whatever else she decided, Janet realized, clearly, that she wanted to learn more, wanted to learn everything that the woman knew. It was more than likely the most powerful desire she had ever had, and at the same time, it terrified her beyond her wildest imagination.
CHAPTER SIX
The afternoon was still overcast and threatening more rain as Aurelia took the girl on a very special tour of her school. Janet was aware that things were being revealed to her that she might not have expected to learn for quite some time.
"Clearly we have a rapport, my dear, that I had only suspected," the woman told her warmly. "We shall have to explore its depths, completely.
Janet did not know what to make of her own emotions, for while fear and a powerful loathing were infecting her, so too was a tingling excitement at all she might learn from this strange and powerful woman.
She was well aware of the fact that she considered herself to be rather powerless. She knew her own mind, or thought she did, but knew little of anyone else. Then too, it was obvious to her, that she had never been able to influence anyone.
Perhaps it was that, she thought, as she followed Aurelia into the small, dark tunnel that led to the basement of the huge mansion. Perhaps it was the very fact that she yearned to feel important in herself, that drew her to Aurelia Storm.
Whatever it was, it left her with a craving more powerful than she had ever known, and as they entered the basement of the house, the chilly atmosphere was charged with more than just the dampness for the young woman.
The dank, rancid odor of musty walls and stale growth filled her nostrils, but surprisingly, she did not feel ill. It was as if she were growing stronger with each passing moment, or even more powerfully, with each new thing she learned.
Aurelia kept up a steady lecture as she led the girl down the narrow corrider toward the group of cells at the far end. Her chatter was lively and casually, rather amusing considering the importance of the topic.
"Wills are meant to be bent and molded," she said. "Minds, meant to be washed clean of the posions one learns."
She paused before one of the cells and pointed inside. A girl lay on a mat of straw, moaning and sobbing in fear and pain. When Aurelia tapped on the bars, she leaped backward, cowering against the wall.
"For some of the new arrivals," the woman chuckled softly. "A bit of time in here does wonders to break them down."
She nodded toward the end of the corridor and Janet followed dutifully behind her. "You see, my dear, we must get to the center of these worthless creatures," she explained. "Must carve away all their useless self-importance and reach the core of their vulnerability."
"Why must you strip them so naked?" the girl asked, her voice quivering emotionally. "Must you reduce them to nothing?"
"Yes, of course," nodded Aurelia grimly. "When they are nothing, then we can begin to build them anew!"
The room she was leading the girl to was the punishment chamber. Even just standing outside of it, Janet felt a cold, menacing dread racing through her. She could sense the pain and suffering the room held, even in the air within it.
"Here is where it begins," murmured Aurelia softly. "Here is where all my training starts. Here is where we teach them to be who they are?" Janet looked around the room in awe and fear. She cast her eyes on the various instruments of punishment and torture and shivered at the sheer volume of them, at the vicious and ugly deeds they represented.
"How ... how do you know what they are?" she stammered weakly. "How can you tell?"
Aurelia smiled thinly. "In this world, there are those that serve and those that command, I have told you that," she murmured. "I knew a long, long time ago that I was born to command."
Janet nodded dumbly, her terror seeming to increase with each passing moment. She realized, clearly, that she was wondering, with gnawing fear, which she was meant to be, and how Aurelia would deal with her because of it.
The woman's smooth, cool hand patted her on the shoulder and her voice was warm and comforting. "Don't be afraid, my pet," she whispered. "I have already seen who and what you are, and I shall act accordingly. Janet almost moaned in complete horror. She turned and stared at Aurelia, realizing suddenly that in the past few hours, she had seemed to have stepped into either a horrible nightmare, or wild and wonderful dream.
"I ... I don't know," she whispered fiercely. "I..; I'm scared because I don't!"
Aurelia laughed savagely. "There is no need for you to know," she growled harshly. "It is enough that I do."
She sat down on a table and beckoned the girl to join her. Janet could feel the chill of the room penetrating her clothing and the warmth the woman offered seemed to be the only thing she could deal with.
Carefully, Aurelia began to explain more of what went on in the room. She pointed out the various instruments and pain-stakingly outlined their uses. From the rack to the whips, from the tables and chains, all had distinct meaning.
"I do not apply any of this casually," she informed the girl. "Each separate tool is just that, a tool with defined uses."
A whip teaches a slave to feel her Mistress's hand, she explained. The caress of the last is more intimate than say, the hot iron or the slicing knife. A whip can be a loving instrument, a giver of much pleasure, when applied correctly.
"You will notice that only I do the disciplining here," Aurelia told her. "That, is because the slaves must know where their punishment is coming from."
Janet nodded. "In other words, they must understand that you are the giver of punishment and pleasure, and that no one else can do that for them?"
"Exactly," laughed the older woman. "When they begin to realize that I alone control their sensations, that only I can give them pleasure in pain, then they come to see me as the source of everything they know."
"And being the source, you define who and what they are?"
Again the woman laughed, obviously pleased with the girl's understanding. "Ahh, my sweet Janet, how quickly you learn," she murmured softly. "You are going to be an excellent pupil, I can see that clearly, now."
"I still don't understand the pleasure and pain principle, yet," the girl sighed. "It is still somewhat of a mystery to me."
"I can understand that," the woman nodded softly. "It is hard to know, unless you have experienced it. Hard to realize how blindingly beautiful it can be."
She told the girl that once the slaves went beyond the initial boundaries of their suffering, once they were totally overwhelmed by their agony, they soon learned not to fight it, not to resist the torture they recieved.
"It is a beautiful thing to watch, this birth of pleasure they go through," Aurelia whispered urgently. "One moment they are screaming in agony, and in the next, wailing with a totally consuming ecstasy!"
When the slave crossed that boundary, she told the young girl, anything was possible. In that moment, the slave felt a freedom she could have never dreamed of. Fear vanished and seething, almost unbearable bliss invaded her.
They approached each new session with more and more eagerness, aching to once more feel the ultimate in passion. The moment when pain and pleasure mixed, when they mingled so intently you could not tell them apart, was awesome indeed.
"Think of it, a moment when both are the same, when both are the very essence of what one is," she hissed. "Pain and pleasure, rippling together in your flesh, totally consuming you into a state of mindless ecstasy."
"I don't think that I could ever achieve that," murmured the young girl, shivering with fear. "I don't know how I could ever do it."
Aurelia stared at her intently. "You will be able to do anything I tell you to," she hissed. "Provided you wish to, of course."
What was she offering, Janet wondered in that moment. This was so far and away the most amazing and strange experience she had ever had, that she could hardly think straight. She had no idea where to begin analyzing any of it.
The only thing she could truly know for certain, was that she had stepped into a world quite unlike any she had ever imagined. It was old and rather foolish thinking, but still it was the only way she could describe it.
Never in her life had she felt so dull and unimportant, never had she felt so completely useless. She sat there beside the powerful and impressive woman, a fearful, stupid child and hated herself for it.
Aurelia laughed, softly. She patted the girl's knee and smiled warmly into her eyes as the young girl turned and stared at her. In that moment, Janet felt a sudden and powerful outpouring of love for her.
"I know what you are thinking," Aurelia whispered confidently. "I can read your mind, my little dove, completely."
Irritated with herself and the idea that the woman might truly be able to read her mind, Janet snapped back at her. "What am I thinking, then?" she growled.
"You are afraid, feeling unworthy and unimportant," said the woman, softly. "You are asking yourself what good at all you might possibly be."
Janet could not look at her any longer. She tore her eyes away and stifled the urge she had to cry. It was all too much in that moment, all too overwhelming and terrifying to her, then.
She sat there shivering while the woman allowed her a few moments of tormented confusion. She was aware that Aurelia was torturing her in this manner, sitting coolly beside her in her moment of mental anguish.
At last, Aurelia sighed and put her arms around the young girl's shoulders. She hugged her tightly to her large, ample breasts and kissed the top of the young girl's head, affectionately.
Poor little dove," she murmured quietly. "Don't be so frightened, I know what is good for you. All you have to do is trust me, completely."
The girl nodded grimly. "There doesn't seem to be much else for me to do, does there?" she muttered. "I'm completely out of my depth."
Aurelia laughed harshly. "A depth I intend to explore completely with you, my pet," she said, evenly. "I assure you, you won't be so lost by the time we are finished exploring."
She slipped off the table then and turned to face the girl. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips set into a tight, fierce grin. Her hands were on her hips then, in the familiar and commanding stance she took.
"Do you wish to see more of my power?" she whispered coldly. "Would you like a more detailed demonstation of my theories? Shuddering with dread, the girl bravely nodded her head. "Yes," she whispered excitedly. "Yes, please, I have to!"
"I knew you did," chuckled the woman softly.
She turned then and walked out of the cold, damp room. Janet sat on the table, holding her arms around her, rocking slowly back and forth in impatient and fearful waiting. Never had she felt so afraid, she realized, nor so excited.
In a few moments, Aurelia returned with a tall, pretty woman in her late twenties. The woman had short hair and petulant lips, and it was clearly to Janet that she had once held herself to be very important indeed.
But her manner with Aurelia was quiet subservient and docile. She was led, rather than forced to the middle of the chamber, her body trembling beneath the short, paper-thin gown she was wearing.
"You are about to witness a demonstration of the pain and pleasure principle I have explained to you," Aurelia hissed. "Pay close attention, Janet, for you have a great deal to learn in a very short time, if you are to assist me."
She turned and nodded silently to the young woman and without being told by more than that, the woman quickly stripped off her gown and went to the table beside a small, triangular shaped block on the floor.
"See how eagerly she approaches the punishment I offer," hissed Aurelia as she and the girl watched the young woman. "Even knowing what is going to happen to her, she does not resist! Indeed, she leaps to the task, gleefully."
The young woman, whom Janet learned was named Lois, picked up a pair of tight, leather boots and quickly pulled them on. Then then slipped a pair of leather gloves over her hands and pulled them up to her elbows.
Grinning almost fiercely, she began to climb into the thick, heavy oufit that would complete her costume, pulling it over her shoulders and adjusting it against her breasts. The leather vest fastened by a strap at her belly, drawing a tight, rough flap across her shaven vagina.
She looked like a good slave should.
She turned then, to Aurelia, shivering with anticipation. "I am ready, Mistress," she whispered intently.
Aurelia nodded grimly and walked over to where she stood. She picked up a leather collar from the table and snapped it around the girl's throat, then attached a chain to the collar and the top portion of the vest.
The final act was to bind the young woman's hands behind her back with tight, leather cord, then lead her over the long, triangular-shaped block on the floor. When the woman was poised atop of it, feet placed on either side, Aurelia turned to Janet again.
"She has done nothing to deserve punishment," Aurelia explained. "If anything, she is nearly to the point of becoming one of my most trusted slaves."
She pointed down at the block and the young woman dropped to the peak, resting the cleft of her buttocks and loins against it. She sat, shivering as Aurelia went across the room to the rack of whips that hung on the wall.
"What she wants, is to prove to me her eagerness to serve me," Aurelia explained. "She wants to show me how much she loves me, and how badly she wants my love in return!"
Aurelia walked back to where Lois was seated and lay the long, thick strand of the whip she was holding in her hand, across the young woman's naked, twitching shoulders. At once, the young woman moaned in quivering excitement.
Aurelia chuckled. "Also, she anticipates the pleasure she will receive," she murmured coolly. "She eagerly awaits the moment when her pain and pleasure become one, and her ecstasy is complete. Am I not correct, scum?"
Lois's voice was thick and drained with emotion and she gasped as she nodded her head in agreement. "Ohh, Mistress, you are so good and kind to me," she groaned. "Give me your love, Mistress, give it to me, now!"
Aurelia chuckled again, gazing at the dampness of the woman's trembling shoulders. "She has learned how good it is to serve," she whispered. "How delightful it is to suffer for my pleasure. Watch, and you will see what I mean!"
Janet was gazing intently, now, as the tall, black-haired woman took a step back and cracked the whip hard against the floor. Instantly the woman on the block grew tense, straining her body forward to offer Aurelia all the room, possible.
"What is the source of your passion, scum?" snarled the woman, coldly.
"Pain, Mistress, only pain," Lois gasped in response, rocking back and forth on the sharp peak of the triangular block.
"Who can give you that pleasure, pig?" Aurelia growled, her voice rising in intensity.
"Ohh, only you, my blessed Mistress, only you," sobbed Lois, her voice clearly yearning for the whip to caress her.
"What is your only purpose in life, scum, your sole reason to exist?" demanded Aurelia.
"To serve you, Mistress," gasped the young woman, feverishly. "To serve you is all I love for, my loving Mistress!"
Aurelia whirled the whip around her hand and brought it down savagely across the young woman's quivering shoulders. Her scream was nearly as loud as the crack of the harsh leather smashing into her flesh.
She jerked violently, twisting and turning on the narrow peak of the block, but made no move, whatsoever, to escape the following blow. Again the whip fell, and Janet jerked involuntarily, as if it were she receiving the blows.
"Tell me of your love, slave," snarled Aurelia. "Tell me of your total passion and loyalty to me! Tell me how much you love my gift of suffering, scum!"
She cracked the whip hard against the base of the young woman's spine, nearly driving her off the block from the sheer force of the blow. The young woman held fast, though, shuddering as the savage pain tore through her aching flesh.
"Ohh, yes, my Mistress, yes, yes," she wailed in tortured ecstasy. "Ummm, it is so good, my Mistress, so very good to suffer for you, yes!
Rhythmically, Aurelia began to lash at the young woman with the whip, timing each blow to get the maximum amount of pain from it. Janet watched coldly as the lash struck, a part of herself somehow distant and apart by this time.
That the blows were painful and severe were obvious to her, but she found herself much more interested in Lois's reactions than any thought of how bady the woman must be feeling. To her, the mere look of pleasure on her face was astounding.
Each time the whip cracked into her, Lois seemed to throw her shoulders back to greet it, thrilling to the sheer savagery of it itself. She was rubbing her cunt back and forth along the peak of the triangular block, then, obviously stimulating her loins.
"See how the pain and pleasure mingle and become one?" hissed Aurelia to Janet. "She is using both to please herself, using the two sensations to give herself an incredible and overwhelming ecstasy!"
Harder and harder she lashed at the girl, now, but it was almost as if Lois were no longer feeling anything merely physical, but somehow a driving, powerful emotional force had taken hold of her, besides.
From the way her face was contorted into a mask of sheer ecstasy, and her body jerking and writhing rhythmically in time with the blows, Janet could tell that the young woman was deep in the throes of something total and consuming.
"I am yours, Mistress, totally yours," groaned Lois under the harsh, falling lash. "Do with me what you will, I will obey, eagerly, now!"
Her voice was that of someone deep in the grip of a powerful passion. Her eyes were wild with excitement and her flesh damp with the fevered sweat of awesome pleasures. Janet could not believe it, but the facts were undeniable.
It was clear to her then, that she had never, herself, come anywhere near such total surrender to pleasure. She had never even touched a single degree of the passion this woman was experiencing.
In the few short hours she had spent at Storm house, she realized that she had been given a glimpse of a world that she was eager to enter. To experience one tenth of such excitement was truly an awesome thought.
As Aurelia lay blow upon blow into the young woman's flesh, Janet could sense the woman's excitement reaching a fever pitch, also. She could have mistaken the look of ecstasy on the woman's face, very easily, she realized.
It would have been very simple to think that Aurelia was merely enjoying the act of beating the young woman, that she was just thrilling to the inflicting of pain, but that would not have been the explanation at all. In that moment, Janet Westerly realized that much of what she knew was worn and outdated. For she had little true understanding of such things, she realized. She was basically, as stupid as the rest of the world "I am your Mistress, you are my slave," snarled Aurelia savagely. "You belong to me, get your life from me, can love only me!"
"Yes, yes," wailed Lois in tortured agreement. "Only you, Mistress, only you matter to me! You are the only one I love, and the only one that loves me!"
"Suffer for my love, then, pig," the woman snarled. "Suffer, as a good slave will, for you Mistress's love, you bitch!"
"Ohh, yes, Mistress, make me suffer, yes, yes," the woman sobbed, twitching in total ecstasy as the harsh, cruel leather kissed her back once more. "Ohh, thank you, Mistress, thank you for your love!"
Janet gazed intently, feeling a powerful rumbling in her loins as she realized the peak of ecstasy they were both experiencing. Lois was in the throes of her pleasure at being a total slave, while Aurelia was just the opposite.
The woman was alive with excitement, Janet realized, for she controlled this other being totally, moreover, gave her the very reason for her existence. The two of them were more alive in that moment than Janet had ever been before in her life, and she realized, passionately, that more than anything else, she wantedto experience that sense of being alive. To experience all of it, every part of it, totally.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Her chance to become totally absorbed by this strange and compelling world came much sooner than she thought. Not more than a few days went by, before she found herself pushed to the edge of commitment.
Aurelia led her through those first days in a carefully staged series of training exercises, all designed to break down her natural resistance. Each time the girl faltered, she was there to urge her on.
"You must learn to submit, totally," she told her grimly. "Learn that all you know is wrong, all you had been taught is incorrect."
It was difficult for the young girl, of course, for she was fighting the very core of her understanding, fighting everything she had been brought up to believe. It was not easy to cast off her old ways of thinking.
Aurelia put her to work cleaning the house, forcing her to submit to abuses and insults from the lowest of the staff. She encouraged some of the students to taunt the girl, also, demeaning her all the more.
"Learn that your are garbage," she advised. "Learn that you are nothing, absolutely worthless until I give you meaning."
On her hands and knees, pushing a hard-bristled brush across the bare stone of the basement floor, the young girl learned to feel more humiliated than she ever dreamed of sensing.
Pushing the brush back and forth, scraping her smooth, elegant kness against the brutal stone of the floor, she first grew to hate Aurelia with a fierce and consuming intensity.
She resented the cruel and abusive treatment, felt degraded and abused by having to do this work. She was a teacher, damn it, she was not supposed to be doing these things, and eventually, her anger reached a boiling point.
"I don't have to do this shit work," she growled, throwing her brush into the bucket angrily. "I don't have to put up with this!"
Savagely, Olga slapped her across the face in full view of Aurelia. She fell back against the wall, the first taste of her own blood on her tongue, her split lips already swelling up, painfully.
"You will do as I say, pig," snarled the ugly, squat woman. "You are scum, do you understand me, nothing."
Shivering with a mixture of rage and fear, Janet turned to Aurelia. "Do I have to take that from her?" she nearly sobbed.
Olga punched her hard in the belly, a blow so vicious that it doubled the girl over and drove her to her knees. As she clutched at her aching stomach, Aurelia stood over her, chuckling savagely.
"You will take orders from whomever I tell you to, bitch," she hissed. "A pig like you doesn't have the right to appeal to me."
She pushed the young woman's head into the bucket of water and held it there while Janet thrashed in terror. Only at the last possible moment did she release the gasping young woman.
Holding her head in her hand, she slapped Janet cruelly across the face to get her attention. The girl sobbed and shivered, snorting the water from her lungs and mouth as she sobbed.
"You're worthless to me, now, pig," Aurelia snarled. "Only when you learn total respect will I consider you worthy of attention. Until then, listen to those I put in charge of you, bitch and obey them, unquestioningly!"
Naturally, the sense of fear and loathing became stronger in the girl. She had fallen from a dizzying height, it seemed. Had plunged from being a close member of Aurelia's inner circle, to something little more than an animal.
For several days, she did not even see Aurelia. She was given a small cell in the basement and fed all her meals in there. Her toilet was a foul, stinking bucket, and her bed a mat of straw.
She had not bathed for nearly a week and was itchy with the various bugs that called the dank, damp basement their home. When she was given a shower, it was beneath an ice cold spray that stung her flesh into throbbing numbness.
As the day's passed, she lost track of time, could no longer tell what hour it was, how long she had been in the basement, or even the week it might be. She fell more and more into a state of total aloneness and naturally, the terror followed.
When she was alone, which was rare, for her days were long and hard, and she was given little time to herself, she began to wonder if it were all a dream, if, perhaps, this was a nightmare she would soon awaken from.
She prayed fervently to come out of this dark madness, then even more frighteningly, began to wonder if her memories were the dream itself. She began to question who she was, and if she ever did come from the family she had once had.
Her mother and father and her life with them were no longer real to her, then. Somehow, they became a shimmering, faint fantasy that she could not truly say actually existed. She hardly knew her own name by this time.
Fear was all she knew, fear of Olga's wrath. Fear of the punishing kicks and slaps she received from the vicious old woman. Each time she slackened on a task, Olga was right there to kick into action.
Her body became a mass of bruises and scrapes, raw patches of flesh that were sore and never seemed to heal. In time, she felt more like an animal than a human being, and wondered if she had been in the dungeon for all time.
Unceasingly, she was reminded of how worthless she was. Olga referred constantly to the Mistress, to how perfect she was, and how utterly foul and useless Janet was in contrast.
"You don't even have enough value to feed," she grumbled, witholding the girl's evening meal, one night. "Pigs like you don't deserve to be fed the delicious food we give you. So you can slave, scum!"
Janet screamed and begged on her knees for the meager meal. She sobbed and beseeched Olga to relent, promising she would work harder than ever before. In that moment, all her dignity was erased completely.
"Tell me what scum you are," Olga taunted her. "Tell me what a useless, worthless bitch you are! I want to hear it from your own lips, Pig!"
Sobbing, the girl nodded frantically. "Ohh, God, yes, yes, I am useless," she wailed, her belly throbbing with need. "I'm worthless, a pig, nothing!"
As Olga stood grinning over her, the plate of rancid, foul-smelling gruel in her hand, just out of the girl's reach, Janet realized that she was not exactly telling a he, for she had begun to beleive it herself.
"When I set this plate down, scum," the old woman sneered. "I want you to eat like the pig you are. Now hands, bitch, just push your face in it and root around like the worthless hog I know you are!"
Nodding, the young girl watched her place the plate on the floor in front of her. She held her hands behind her back then, locking her fingers around her wrists and drove her face into the sloppy mass.
While Olga looked on, laughing in delight, Janet Westerly, once prim and proper, mashed her face greedily into the mess and lapped it up with her tongue. She did not think at all how humiliating it was, for she was quite beyond that, now.
When Aurelia Storm heard about Janet eating her meal in that manner, she was greatly pleased. She was sitting in the parlor with Brad Taylor, sipping on after dinner brandy, as Olga related the incident.
"What did I tell you, Bradley," she said, chuckling happily. "Already she is making progress."
The young doctor shrugged. "So she was hungry," he sneered. "What does that prove. I'd do the same if I were starving."
Aurelia shook her head. "No, she is breaking down, dropping deeper into the pit of hopelessness. Soon she will be ready for the next stage of her development."
Brad Taylor sighed, heavily. "I still don't see your plan," he muttered. "If you want her as an assistant, why do this to her?"
"Because, you fool, I need to make her mine completely. I need to break her down, destroy her, so that I can rebuild her in my own manner."
"You're just going to plain destroy her," he grumbled coldly. "That's about all you're going to do to her with this shit."
Aurelia chuckled softly. "Ahh, you understand so little, Bradley," she murmured. "You haven't the slightest idea what it takes to make a perfect slave."
She told him that once Janet was at the point of total submission, the very fires that sparked her fierce independence could be used against her. They would channel her loyalty to a degree that a normal person could not match.
"The harder she fights the training, the more she will embrace it, once we have crossed the threshold," she explained. "You'll see, she is going to be my crowning achievement. A slave I can trust to do my work for me!"
While Brad was doubtful, he could not deny the evidence of her training when she presented it to him a couple of weeks later. For what he saw was a completely changed Janet Westerly, and not merely out of fear.
It was clear from the moment they led the girl into the cold, wet chamber of the punishment room, that she had undergone a powerful change. Her eyes were fleeting, darting back and forth, seeking something to console her.
Her body, though washed and tended to, still bore the traces of her hard days in the dungeon, and beneath the filmy gown she was wearing, he could see her flesh rippling with a feverish anticipation.
Aurelia stood grimly in the center of the room as Olga led the girl into the chamber. Her eyes were fixed and cold, betraying nothing of what she might be thinking or feeling behind her stern mask of determination.
The young girl gasped as she saw Aurelia and pulled herself free of Olga's clutches. She threw herself at Aurelia's feet, sobbing uncontrollably. Her voice was broken and weak as she tried to speak through agonized moans.
"Ohh, Mistress, Mistress, mercy," she whispered fiercely. "I know I have been unworthy, I know that I'm a pig, but mercy, Mistress, please!"
Aurelia stared at Brad a slight smile creasing her lips for a moment. He nodded, grudingly accepting at least this bit of evidence in the change of the girl's outward manner.
Aurelia was wearing a tight leather outfit that ran the length of her body, and had a pair of harsh, leather boots on her feet, and a long pair of leather gloves on her hands and arms.
She lifted the girl's chin by the toe of her boot and snarled at her coldly. "How dare you beg for my mercy, pig?" she hissed. "Did I give you permission to speak!"
Janet shivered in fear and dread and pulled herself away from the woman. "No, Mistress," she whispered softly. "I'm sorry, Mistress, please, I'm sorry."
"Keep your worthless mouth shut until I order you to speak, then, pig," growled Aurelia. "You have to learn a little more respect, scum."
"I'll give her a good kick, Mistress," Olga hissed, drawing back her foot. "That will teach her her place!"
Aurelia shook her head. "I will discipline her myself," she growled. "So that she may know how lucky she is to be serving me."
She bent down and pulled Janet's head up by her hair. Her eyes were blazing wildly, and her lips drawn back over her teeth in an animalistic snarl. When she spoke, her voice was cruel and demeaning.
"You are lucky to have me for a Mistress, scum," she growled. "Lucky that I bother to take an interest in your worthless soul."
Janet nodded wildly, wincing as the woman tugged on her hair. "Ohh, I know, Mistress, truly I know that, now!"
"Have you learned anything while being down here, bitch?" growled the woman. "Has anything gotten through that stupid brain of yours?"
Sobbing the girl tried to nod again. "I ... I've learned how useless I am," she sobbed. "I can't seem to do anything right at all."
Aurelia laughed, cruelly. "Of course you can't, pig, how could you?" she snorted. "You don't know the first thing about being a slave, so naturally you can't be of any value to me."
Roughly, she jerked the girl to her feet. Janet sobbed in pain as the woman forced her to stand. Rudely, Aurelia shoved her away from her and Janet stumbled backward to the center of the room.
"Look at yourself, scum," the woman growled viciously. "There, in the mirror, look how foul and unworthy you are, bitch!"
Janet sobbed as she saw her own reflection, a grim, haggard being she had recognized as herself. She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks as she turned to face Aurelia once more.
"I ... I look horrible," she moaned. "I ... I don't even look human, anymore!"
"That's because you're not, scum," snarled the woman. "You're nothing, until I finish creating you, nothing! Until I have fashioned you into what I want, you are no more than a pile of human garbage!"
Sobbing, the girl nodded wildly. There was no escaping the truth of that, it seemed, for by now, she did not know herself, what to do. She had no one to turn to for help, no one that seemed to care about her at all.
The only one that appeared to have any concern for her well-being was Aurelia, and for the first time, she felt a desperate desire to have the woman allow her to prove herself to her.
"What shall I do, Mistress?" she moaned wildly. "What shall I do to prove myself worthy of your love?"
Aurelia laughed, coldly. "I don't know if that's possible, pig," she said, teasingly. "You just might not be good enough to serve me, scum."
Janet had to fight the awful urge to scream that welled up in her lungs. More than anything else in the world, she was terrified that Aurelia would turn her back on her, reject her completely and totally.
"No, God, no, not that, Mistress," she wailed. "Please, please, give me a chance, Mistress, help me to be worthy, please!"
Aurelia grunted with distaste. "You scum are forever demanding of me," she muttered. "Forever bothering me with your worthless, petty little lives."
She shook her head, sighing heavily once more. "All right, my worthless pig," she moaned. "Strip off that stupid garment and let me see if I can possibly make something out of you!"
Janet's eyes brightened and she eagerly threw off the flimsy nightgown, unashamedly baring her flesh to those in the room. Qearly, it did not matter at all to her that Brad Taylor was just a few feet away, drinking in her thin, fragile beauty.
Aurelia picked up a cowl with attached leather straps from the table Brad was sitting on and quickly forced it over the young woman's head. Standing as still as possible, Janet felt her body growing wet and fevered with anticipation.
She felt Aurelia roughly pulling her arms up and over her head, strapping them together against the sides of the cowl with the leather bands. In seconds, she was helpless, unable to move her limbs away from her head at all.
Aurelia inspected her closely nodding her head in approval. "Now you are ready for my gift, pig," she growled. "Though you are unworthy of it, I am going to be kind to you, and allow you to taste the pleasure of my punishment, scum!"
Janet's eyes followed her as she walked ,to the whip rack that hung on the wall and quickly drew down a short-handled, long-stranded whip. She cracked it hard against the floor and the girl shuddered in response.
Moaning wildly, she bobbed her head in eager need. "Yes, Mistress, break me down, please," she whispered, urgently. "I need the punishment, Mistress, I need it so badly, now!"
Aurelia laughed coldly and approached the girl. The whip was cradled lovingly in the palm of her hand and she stuck out with it, lightly, just grazing the girl's naked and quivering spine.
"You are going to suffer now, pig," she whispered intently. "But through your suffering, realize how lucky you are."
She walked slowly around the shaking young woman then, darting the whip at her in a teasing manner. "Remember two things, pig," she whispered intently. "Pain is everything, the key to all of your pleasure. Suffering is the most wonderful thing you can do, for it allows you to please your Mistress, pig!"
She was behind the girl then and she suddenly snaked the whip out violently, lashing it ruthlessly against her trembling spine. As the harsh, cruel leather caressed her flesh, Janet screamed under the assault of terrible agony.
It felt as if a red hot iron had been suddenly pressed against her flesh, and the very force of the blow drove her several steps forward. She sobbed, arching her back as the cruel leather kissed her shoulders.
"Scum, this pain is what you deserve," snarled Aurelia savagely, lashing a third time, this blow striking Janet's buttocks. "Pain is everything to you, pig, remember that, everything!"
Janet shivered as the pain roared through her fleshy half moons and she felt a deep, bloody wound opening up in the tender mounds. Aurelia lashed cruelly at her back again, and the girl screamed with even more intensity.
Through the shimmering white heat of her agony, she could hardly see, and her body felt afire with the ruthlessly sensation of the whip tearing into her. Her mind was whirling in the midst of her suffering and her body jerked uncontrollably as each new blow landed.
"Stand, you scum, stand and take your punishment, bitch," Aurelia snarled, moving around the shivering girl, lashing at her belly and outer thighs, again and again. "Endure the pain, pig, it is the gift of my love!"
Again and again the lash fell. The girl was slowly sinking to the floor then, her body a mass of ribbons and stripes from the blows. She was sobbing, almost unable to breathe.
"Ohh, Mistress, yes, yes," she murmured harshly. "Thank you, my Mistress, thank you for the pain!"
She was weaving drunkenly as Aurelia worked the whip around her body. Each blow seemed to jerk and toss her about, until she was spinning, nearly like a top, from side to side.
"You see, pig, see how much I love you?" the woman growled. "I am happy to hurt you, scum, happy to give you this pain!"
Janet, was nodding wildly in agreement. Through the throbbing agony she was enduring, more vivid than anything she had ever felt before, she had the first glimmer of understanding in her mind.
This punishment was just, for she was weak and foolish and foul, she realized. This pain was deserved, for it was the one true way her Mistress could show her love for her.
What was more compelling, was the way the pain inself was invading her so completely. It seemed to drive out every other sensation and thought she had. It seemed to become all that there was in this life to her, then.
She felt the cracking of the whip, lashing into her again and again and again, and no more did she want to avoid it. She was weak and exhausted and could not stand, then, but she tried desperately to remain erect.
"I ... I can't ... can't stand up," she sobbed, wildly. "Ohh, Mistress, help me, I can't stand up anymore!"
"Then fall, pig," snarled the woman. "Get on your belly and writhe you scum, take the lash on the floor, then, bitch!"
Savagely, Aurelia" drove her to the stone floor with a vicious series of blows from the whip. Janet screamed relentlessly, but each blow was more consuming than the last, and she began to give-way under the sheer weight of her suffering.
She was nearly to the point of fainting then, and realized she would not be able to hold out much longer. The one true thing she understood in that moment, was how much the pain meant to her.
She could not love it, yet, could not eagerly surrender to it, but that was coming, she could feel it approaching like the rush of a tidal wave about to engulf her. As she passed out, she prayed it would not take too look to come about, for she wanted more than anything, to be alive in her Mistress's power and control.
Wanted to suffer the ecstasy of her discipline and total command.
CHAPTER EIGHT
As the days passed, Janet learned more and more the finer points of being a good and loyal slave. There were more things to the life than she could have ever imagined. And it was harder than she had ever dreamed it would be.
To be a true and perfect servant of a mistress, she learned, was nearly an art in itself. One had to constantly fight all of ones own emotions, bend and push them into line, as it were.
The main thing, of course, was really quite simple. One had to always forget about thinking about oneself. Whenever a slave had any thoughts concerning her well-being, she had to consciously drive them out of her head.
Never could a slave allow herself to care about what might happen to her. Such thoughts only wasted time, and took away from her true responsibility, that of her Mistress's welfare and state of mind.
The mistress was everything, she learned, and had to be at the center of her thoughts at all times. Over and over again, she learned that she had to think only of her mistress, only of what she needed.
"To think of yourself," she was told by Aurelia. "Is to deny your mistress her importance. Always remember that."
She learned, too, that such thoughts were dangerous, for they were the path back to the slave's former life of selfish, personal importance. A slave was nothing, and she must always be aware of that.
"Think how wonderful it is," Aurelia told her warmly. "How glorious not to have to bother with yourself. Your Mistress will take care of that, all you have to do is think of her!"
For Janet, this was difficult to say the least.
No matter how hard she tried, she always seemed to slip back into her former state of mind. Fear would creep into her heart, and she would once more begin to worry about herself.
She would sitt on her straw mattress, shivering with nameless dread, once more feeling mad and totally out of control, questioning everything, and more importantly, the reality of her slavery.
She hated herself in those moments. She hated the weakness that produced such doubt in her. The sickening worthlessness that made her so easily prey to such foolish and disgusting fears.
She ached to be as strong in her slavery as her Mistress wanted her to be. She yearned to be able to accept everything without question, to rid herself totally of all thoughts, all possible questions.
She often felt completely useless and unworthy when she saw how easily some of the others adapted to their slavery. Many could eagerly accept the state without a second thought, quickly passing through every stage of slavery effortlessly.
She despised herself for being unable to adapted so easily. That she, an educated, intelligent young woman could not see the truth and beauty as clearly as some of those with less depth and understanding, galled her.
Of course, in her worry and fear, she kept these nagging doubts to herself. It was bad enough she knew about them, but to have anyone else know, was unthinkable. The worst thing she could imagine, was to be discovered by her Mistress.
To have Aurelia find out about her state of mind held total horror for her. She had been told she was being trained for an extremely important position, and she knew that if she failed, all would be lost.
She felt a great deal of pride, another bad feature for a slave, she realized, that Aurelia was training her to help in her work. She desperately wanted to succeed, and lived in almost constant fear that she wouldn't.
"When I am through with you," the blessed woman had told her. "You shall be second only to me in importance. You shall be my good right arm!"
Horribly, she despaired of ever measuring up, of ever being able to reach the stage when her life would be that of a perfect, trusted slave to her Mistress, one that was more valuable than gold.
Aurelia strangely enough, did not seem to have any such fears of the young woman's progress. If anything, she seemed quite certain that she was making good headway, coming along exactly as she should.
She often seemed to be able to read Janet's mind. "I know you are worried, my pet," she would murmur. "But do not fear, I know how well you are doing, your time is at hand, I promise you."
Those words were comforting, but did little to dispel the girl's fears. For her, the only thing that mattered was to reach the point of total surrender, and until she reached that stage, she would not rest easy.
Her life was hard, of course, though the work she was given, now, was less demanding on her flesh than before. Given the fact that she was being groomed for an important position, the tasks she took on were more exotic in nature.
She was told to cultivate the garden, and put to work weeding it. Often, to show her the proper state of humility, she was forced to work half-naked, sometimes completely nude.
This of course, was done in full view of any students or guests that might be around, and naturally, she felt a great deal of shame at being obsevered and commented on by strangers.
"You must learn to forget about your body," Aurelia told her grimly. "It should not matter to you how you are dressed. That is all up to me, pig."
She was told that her flesh belonged to the Mistress to use as she saw fit. If she was to be completely clothed, twenty-four hours a day, so be it. If, on the other hand, she was to walk around stark naked in the middle of town, she would do so, unquestioningly.
"You should not even bother to think about it," Mistress Aurelia told her. "Why should you possibly care, as long as it pleases me?"
Of course, the young woman could not argue the logic, for naturally, a Mistress knew best, and a slave could not make these decisions. She realized that whatever Aurelia wanted, was the right thing for her.
Still, it was hard not to feel embarrassment when strange men, and even some women pinched and chuckled at her body sweating under the hot sun. Try as she might, she could not help blushing at times like that.
Aurelia seemed to understand that too, though, and found it amusing. "You are such a foolish pig," she chuckled one afternoon. "Don't you realize that the sense of degradation is exactly what you need?"
Janet had looked up from the rose garden and shook her head in confusion. "No, Mistress," she answered honestly. "I really don't understand."
Patiently, the lovely woman explained. "A slave needs to feel humility, needs to feel the sickening sense of degradation. It teaches her again and again, how valueless she is."
She went on to inform the young woman, listening of course, with eager ears, that the more a slave felt humiliated, treated like dirt, the more open she was to training. Only when a slave felt less than nothing, was she ready to be taught.
"When you feel as if there is nothing left to you but flesh, worthless, useless skin and bones, you will be ready," Aurelia assured her.
For the lovely young woman, that time could not come soon enough. Already, she felt more degraded than she might have ever dreamed of. She felt as if she had no purpose in life anymore, no value whatsoever.
She could barely remember a time when she thought highly of herself. She knew she had once existed with that state of mind, but it no longer had meaning for her. To her, her very soul was as empty and dry as a forgotten well.
The space of nothingness grew more and more inside of her as time went on. With each day's passing, she felt as if she were something unreal, without form or substance, a husk of a human being, less than even that.
After awhile, she ceased even to cry at night. Stopped eyen thinking about how useless and worthless she was. It didn't seem to have any meaning anymore, and she began to feel more dead than alive.
Aurelia noticed this, for her sharp eyes missed nothing. She watched and observed always on the alert for the subtle changes in a slave's temperment. From one day to the next, she knew exactly what was happening to the gir Had Janet been aware of how pleased Aurelia was with her slow disintegration, she might have taken heart, but of course, her Mistress told her nothing. She was not even minutely aware that Aurelia felt her time was very nearly at hand.
"She's almost there," the woman told Brad Taylor one afternoon. They were both watching the girl weeding the rose garden, from the parlor window. "See how she ignores the thorns, now. Their bite means nothing to her."
Brad grunted and nodded. "She's growing immune to the pain, I suppose."
Aurelia shook her head. "No, Bradley, she is accepting it as correct," she whispered. "In fact, I believe she is growing to like it, even if she doesn't realize it herself."
"How could that possibily happen," he snorted. "She's too wasted for that."
Aurelia chuckled. "That's exactly the point, dear Bradley," she murmured. "For now, only the pain reminds her she is alive, only it give a focus to her life and tells her she is something real."
He gazed at her intently, then, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. "You believe she is ready, then?" he asked grimly. "You think she can cross the final barrier, now, to total surrender?"
Aurelia nodded slowly. "It is her time," she murmured. "It is her time."
That evening, Janet was taken from her small cell in the dungeon and without explanation, placed in a large, comfortable bedroom on the second floor of the house. It was twice as big as the one she had first had, and much more luxurious.
No one would answer her questions as to why she was being moved there. She was told, gruffly, to bath and perfume herself, to dress in the slight, yet expensive nightgown laid across the foot of the bed and wait for instructions.
The bath she took was the most soothing, comforting experience she had had in weeks. She lay in the warm, soothing tub, basking in the relief it gave her, almost not thinking of what might be coming for her.
Whatever reason they might have for bringing her there, she was determined to do her best for the Mistress this time. She was going to prove to the lovely, blessed woman that she could truly be a perfect slave.
Naturally, she was terrified of failing. Even as she bathed, slight tremors of worry and doubt rippled through her flesh, and they did not abate in all the time she waited for them to come for her.
As she waited, she thought silently of the need to perform perfectly and steeled her will and desire to doing just that. Nothing could get in her way of pleasing the Mistress, most of all, not her own weakness and fear.
At nine o'clock, her door opened and Olga peered into the room, glaring at her coldly. "You come now, bitch," the old woman snarled. "The Mistress is waiting."
Fighting the eagerness that was invading her body and soul, the young woman got up from the bed and dutifully followed the old woman into the hall. Slowly, correctly, she remained five steps behind Olga as she was led to parlor.
Besides Brad Taylor, and of course, Mistress Aurelia, there were several young women in the room, slaves in various stages of training. There were one or two men there, also, the parents and husbands of a few of the girls being trained.
Mistress Aurelia was dressed in her ceremonial robe, the purple and scarlet flowing about her in luxurious waves, even as she stood in front of the fire place, glaring at her coldly as Janet entered the room.
"Bow, pig, before your Mistress and Masters," she snarled coldly.
Instantly the young woman dropped to her knees on the carpet, her head bowed in total submission. Mistress Aurelia nodded with satisfaction and walked briskly across the room to where she knelt.
"This pig is about to enter the world of total surrender to my will," she told the others. "All she needs to do is cross the final barrier of her own self-centered concern."
She lifted the trembling young woman's head up by the chin. "You want to do that, don't you, scum?" she growled. "You want to cast off all thoughts of yourself and give in to me completely, is that not right, bitch?"
Her lips were dry and flaked as the girl tried desperately to speak. "Yes ... yes, Mistress," she nearly moaned. "Ohh, God, yes I do!"
Aurelia nodded with satisfaction. "You shall have that wish, scum," she snarled. "For tonight, I give you the gift of consuming agony, so that you may give yourself completely over to my will."
She turned and regarded the assembled slaves and guests. "Slavery requires a devotion stronger than life itself," she said, evenly. "The slave must learn to give of herself completely, to endure all pain, eagerly, to embrace all suffering as her correct lot in life."
She waved a hand in Janet's direction and nodded, grimly. "When this pig begins to embrace the pain, seeing the total and wondrous joy it has to offer, she will have snapped the final link to her past."
She took hold of Janet's shoulders then and pulled her to her feet. "Part of that suffering is held within humiliation," Aurelia murmured. "To be able to endure something that would shame another, without thinking, is a basic ingredient of willing surrender."
She pushed the young woman toward the seated guests then, and Janet stumbled forward. They were in a series of chairs set in semi-circles and Aurelia commanded her to walk slowly among them.
"Allow them to touch you, pig, fondle you as they wish," the woman hissed. "Stay as long with each of them as they want you to. Your flesh is theirs to do anything they like to."
JAnet stepped forward and began to weave her way through the rows. She felt hands clutching at her, slithering under her gown to caress her thighs, pinching her nipples through the material of the garment.
Here and then, a hand pulled her mouth to a hungry pair of lips, or fingers were thrust rudely into her vaginal and rectal passages. Through it all, she uttered not a sound, nor did she make any attempt to avoid the touch of a single hand.
As she passed among them, the caresses and the fondling became increasingly more urgent and painful. Some, it appeared, were looking for her to cry out in pain, squeal and try to escape, but she did not.
"She how she accepts it?" laughed Aurelia coldly. "Her flesh is nothing to her now, no more than a tool for me to use as I see fit."
In a matter of minutes, Janet had several bruises on her body from the greedy and insistent hands, but even the dull, throbbing ache of them did not deter her. She passed as slowly as was needed through the seated guests, allowing them to do anything they liked to her, as her Mistress had commanded.
After she had gone by the last person, Aurelia snapped her fingers and hissed at her to come forward again. She made her way to the center of the room once more, and stood, patienly, as the woman continued her lecture.
"Slaves are totally loyal, completely willing to suffer anything for their Mistress's pleasure. This pig will show you what I mean!"
She turned and nodded, and without having to be told, Janet pulled the flimsy nightgown over her head, revealing her body completely to the people in the room. She stood shivering with anticipation as Aurelia ran her hands over her flesh, lovingly.
"Such a perfect body, so lithe and unblemished," she chuckled coldly. "She is so eager to please, so willing to endure anything for me, right my sweet pig?"
"Yes, Mistress," the young woman nodded with excitement now clear in her eyes. "Anything you ask of me, my blessed Mistress, I shall do."
"Ahh, but will you enjoy it?" the woman asked coldly. "Will you not only accept but thrill to it, my little bitch?"
Janet shuddered violently, for fear was mixed with anticipation, now and she could feeL it racing through her wildly. She knew something powerful and awesome was coming, and she wondered if she would be able to do it.
Bravely, she replied. "I want it, Mistress," she moaned. "I swear, I want the release that "only you can give to me! Ohh, God, Mistress, I need it so badly, now, now! Please, make me suffer, give me pain!"
"Then you shall have it, scum," the woman growled, coldly. "You shall have just that, my precious little bitch!"
She pulled Janet's arms behind her back, then and the girl gasped in shock as she felt the woman locking a pair of shackles to her forearms. The shackles were fastened to a flat metal bar and she could feel its coldness against the base of her spine.
Welded to the middle of the bar, between her arms, was a shiny, curved spike, that rode over her shapely buttocks, almost perfectly. The needle-sharp tip of the spike rested against one buttock then, digging into the flesh, with a dull sting.
Moving her buttocks apart, Aurelia quickly fit this sharp, shiny tip into the pulsating dot of the young woman's bum and the sharp, stinging pain invaded her tender passage almost immediately.
As Janet moaned softly, though she tried desperately to try and hold her uttering of pain inside, the woman picked up a large, winged collar from the floor and fit it around her neck.
It was made of the same shiny metal as the prong that rested between her buttocks, and the wing of the collar lay over her breasts, the razor sharp edges of it pressing insistently against her quivering spheres.
Grimly, the woman inspected her work, as Janet stood as still as possible in front of her. She gazed at the gleaming blades of the wing against the young woman's breasts and the spike that rested between her buttocks, moving slightly as her anal muscles quivered spasmodically.
"Look at her, my friends," she murmured with a mounting excitement. "See how she waits patiently for my next command."
Janet was gazing out at them, and could see the eagerness in their faces. They were anticipating whatever was going to happen, clearly enjoying the helpless and and obvious danger of her position.
She realized she was being used as entertainment, and the very thought of that, thrilled her beyond belief. This was truly an honor, she thought, for she was not merely being trained in this moment, but also being functional besides.
"Any movement that the pig makes will cause her pain," Aurelia was telling them, her voice lowered to a dramatic whisper, now. "The slightest sway will cut or penetrate her flesh, savagely!"
She turned and smiled thinly at the trembling young woman. Her eyes ran from the heavy plate against her breasts, to the spike between her buttocks. Her lips flickered with mounting glee.
"You won't disappoint me, will you little scum?" she murmured quietly. "You won't embarrass me, now, will you, pig?"
Slowly the young woman shook her head. "No, Mistress, I will not," she said firmly. "I will not do anything to show disfavor in me!"
Aurelia laughed in delight and turned to the others again. "You see, she knows what is going to happen, and accepts it eagerly," she snapped. "She can feel the pain approaching and will surrender to it, happily."
She reached behind the girl, then and pushed down on the metal spike, driving it a bit deeper into Janet's tender rectal chamber. The young woman winced in pain, shuddering a bit as it tore through her, but she did not move away from the pressing hand.
Sweat was beginning to break out over her flesh, and a cold, icy chill of fear was racing up and down her spine. She fought against all that, gritting her teeth behind her smiling lips.
She was not going to fail, she told herself. She would not let her Mistress down. This was the most important test of her life, and she was going to pass it, finally. At last, she was being givent the chance to prove her love and loyalty and she was determined to do just that.
Eagerly she awaited her Mistress's next command. Her body was tense and the swirling emotions were consuming her, but her objective was fierce and steady in her mind. She was going to do what she was told and finally submit to Aurelia's will, completely.
She turned to the woman then, and nodded, whispering breathlessly. "I'm ready, Mistress," she said.
CHAPTER NINE
How often she would look back on that moment as the most important in her life. Everything that followed after it flowed more or less in a natural pattern. It was that instant of willing submission the remained supreme in her heart.
She could feel the cool, dry palm of Mistress Aurelia kneading and caressing her shoulders, slithering down to her buttocks once more to give them a harsh, yet affectionate squeeze.
She could not help but shiver, and felt the blades of the wing against her breasts and the spike embedded in her anal sleeve, moving slightly. Pain was dull at first, just a gentle throbbing, but she knew it was going to get worse.
"Slaves are nothing, you see," Aurelia was telling the others. "They exist only in the minds of their Mistresses and Masters. For them, their lord's will is all that truely matters."
She turned to Aurelia and gazed into her eyes intently. The young woman could see the grim intent hidden behind the Mistress's glare, yet noticed too, the awesome amount of love for her.
She wanted to weep, but not from fear, nor weakness, but from total devotion. In that moment, she loved no one as strong as her Mistress, wanted to please no one else as much.
"Tell me to begin, Mistress," she moaned, almost pleading, then. "Please, please, Mistress, give me the word to begin!"
The woman laughed softly and patted her shoulder again. "Walk, scum," she hissed grimly. "Walk slowly about the room, now, Pig!"
Janet took the first step cautiously. Since a little of her former self remained she could not help the terror that such movement held for her. She felt the first, stabbing pinch of the metal spike driving into her bottom, and she gasped in agony.
At her slight, stunted movement, her breasts mashed back and forth against the razor sharp blades of the wing and her breasts. The blades sliced suddenly into the soft, fleshy spheres and she gasped louder with pain.
She stopped for a moment, shivering as the throbbing ache attacked both parts of her body. She groaned, blinking her eyes against the fierce and building agony that was spreading so swiftly through her flesh.
"Continue to walk, bitch," snarled Aurelia, then. "Move, you worthless scum, I want to see you walking until I tell you to stop, pig!"
Locking her teeth together, grimly, the young woman took a few more steps. The spike in her bum drove deeper into the taut, moist channel, tearing savagely at the delicate blood vessels within.
The blades resting against her breasts were slicing back and forth, now, cutting ever deeper into her precious globes, filling them with a supreme and unmerciless agony, unlike anything she had ever dreamed of.
"See how she gives herself to the pain," laughed Aurelia with mounting glee. "See how eagerly she inflicts in on herself!"
The young woman held her sobs inside, moving about the room determinedly. Nothing was going to stop her from pleasing her Mistress, then, no amount of savage agony was going to keep her from completing her task.
"How is the pain, pig?" the woman growled at her. "Tell us of the suffering you are experiencing, scum!"
"It ... it is bad, Mistress," moaned the young woman. "Ohh, God, it hurts so badly, Mistress, so very badly, indeed!"
Her voice was breathless and spent and she was stumbling now and again as she walked. She could not help herself, for the pain was robbing her of control, and she fought desperately to maintain her command of her lips.
As the spike drove harshly into her bottom, cutting the inner walls, cruelly, the blades, too, did their work. Already a well of blood was dripping from her wounded mounds, and a thin trickle of ruby fluid was running down her thighs.
Aurelia nodded with satisfaction and barked at her harshly. "Now you are still fighting it, pig," she snapped. "That must not be! Surrender to it, scum, love the pain! Submit to its beauties and ecstasies, now!"
For an instant, the girl was in a panic. She had no idea how to do what her Mistress commanded her to. The pain roared fiercely in her bottom and buttocks, and each throb of her heart made it worse.
She shivered and quaked, her eyes blinded by tears, and still she moved across the room, swaying from left to right in a drunken manner. She shut her mind to everything but the sound of Aurelia's voice, then.
"You must surrender completely, scum," the woman was imploring her. "You must forget everything but the pain itself, and rejoice in it."
"I ... I want to," the young woman sobbed. "Ohh, God, Mistress, how much I want to now, how much I do!"
She was rocking back and forth, wildly, then, almost standing in place and weaving like a frail tree in a thundering wind. She gazed at Aurelia through the mist of her tears and wailed softly.
"Help me, Mistress," she sobbed. "Help me reach that state of grace, I beg of you!"
"We shall all help you, pig," snarled the woman. "Move among the crowd once more, let them increase your pain, bitch!"
Slowly Janet turned on her heels and moved into the crowd again. She felt eager hands pushing against the curved spike that was in her rectum, while other hands hungrily attacked the wing that was carving into her breasts.
The pain grew instantly ten times worse and she could not keep a scream within her chest. She wailed loudly, shuddering violently as the hands pushed and pulled the spike back and forth in her bum, and sliced the blades against her globes.
The pain began to engulf and overwhelm her with a throbbing power and force beyond anything she could have imagined. It roared in her flesh like a thousand red-hot irons, spreading through her body, rapidly.
Through the blinding mist of her agony, she began to feel something new and strange, yet somehow so familiar to her, that she nearly leaped in trembling joy.
The pain was beginning to become comfortable. In fact, it was almost to the point of being soothing. She sobbed as she felt someone energetically pumping the spike in and out of her bum, leaning on it heavily to drive it deep into her pit.
Fear left her then, it was spirited out of her heart in a matter of an instant. She shivered again with the pounding hurt, but once more the gasping, aching need to please her Mistress took hold, this time, even stronger.
She groaned, shivering uncontrollably as the roaring grew and grew, right along with her acceptance of it. Never in her life had such a sensation been so powerful, and never had it pleased rrer more.
For a moment, she was in a state of almost total shock. She moaned savagely, jerking with the throbbing in her flesh, twisting and turning as the waves of agony, now turning to ecstasy ripped through her.
"Feel it, feel it consuming you," growled Aurelia in her ear, her voice ringing as if she were bellowing at the top of her lungs. "Feel the pain becoming one with you, becoming all you know!"
"Yes ... yes, I feel it," the young woman sobbed, breathlessly. "Ohh, God, Mistress, I'm beginning to feel it, now!"
"Is it wonderful, my little pig?" the woman laughed harshly. "Is the agony truly the most wonderful thing you have ever known?"
Wildly, then, Janet began to nod, for the pain was so mingled with her pleasure by this time, that it was nearly impossible to know where one left off and the other began. The power of her sensations were overwhelming her.
The pain, driving deep, turning and rolling in her flesh, transported her to a state of total sensation. It was as if every nerve-ending in her flesh, every single part of her body were more alive than ever before.
Nothing she had ever dreamed of had been this consuming. Nothing she had ever wished or imagined for herself had taken hold of her this strongly. It was as if the pain itself, were a living, breathing thing that was devouring her.
How many hands were pushing and pulling at the objects attacking her she could not know. How many more greedy fingers were kneading and caressing her flesh, she had no idea of.
All of that did not matter, though, none of it made any difference to the young woman, now. All she cared about, all she knew was the throbbing violence of what she was enduring, and the total sense of freedom it gave to her.
She screamed, but it was impossible to know, by now, whether her scream was that of agony or ecstasy. Her face was drawn into a taut, nearly animalistic mask, but the look she had was clearly that of rapture.
She swayed and lurched about the guests and assembled slaves, then, crashing into them, as. they, in a frenzy, nearly, attacked her. Eagerly each one sought to increase her suffering, make her pain as vibrant and consuming as possible.
Aurelia watched at the girl was flung about so rudely, her body now covered with her blood, the bright, red liquid marring her creamy flesh in a visible sign of her total surrender to suffering.
"Ohh, God, God, Mistress," the young woman sobbed. "It's so wonderful, it's so beautiful, Mistress, yes!"
Aurelia laughed savagely, clearly pleased with what she was hearing. "You love the agony, don't you, pig?" she hissed fiercely. "Tell me how much you love it!"
The young woman spun around and was facing her then, though through the blinding mist of her agony, Aurelia was little more than a blur before her eyes. Wildly, she nodded her head in agreement.
"Yes, Mistress, I love it, I love it, so," she sobbed. "Ohh, God, Mistress, you don't know how much I love it, now!"
"Send her to me," snarled the woman, harshly.
Hands pushed her forward and Janet stumbled, gasping and moaning until she was standing, her body quaking with wild and unrelently tremors, before her commanding Mistress. The sound of her passionate suffering filled the air, and mixed with the labored breathing of the others in the room.
All of them were excited in that moment, all of them clearly at a peak of emotional frenzy by what they had witnessed. Aurelia glared at them over the shivering young woman's shoulders and growled that they be seated once more.
Janet stood before her, quivering uncontrollably as the constant, quaking agony continued to race through her flesh. She shivered spasmodically as she felt Aurelia reach behind her to remove the harsh, metal breast wing.
The woman laid it down on the floor beside her, then pulled the cruved spike from the girl's tender anal pit, holding her steady as a new and fierce stab of pain tore through her damaged tunnel.
Janet moaned softly as she felt the woman leading her across the room to a short, wooden bench. She felt Aurelia's hands on her shoulders and she sat down on the bench, wincing as the pain stabbed through her damaged buttocks once more.
Pushing her backward, Aurelia fastened a pair of cuffs to her wrists and drew her arms back over her head. She locked the cuffs to the front of the bench then spread the girl's legs apart, shakling her ankles to either side of it.
She stood then, smiling confidently at the group in front of them. "You have only seen the beginning," she whispered savagely. "There is much, much more to come!"
She gazed down at the shivering young woman, her lips curled in a nearly sneering smile. Tenderly she cupped her hands over the girl's breasts and laughed as Janet gasped with renewed pain.
"Have you had enough, scum?" she hissed coldly. "Do you want me to stop, bitch?"
Wildly, the young woman shook her head. "Ohh, God, no, Mistress," she gasped. "I need more, I need all of it, Mistress, all of it, please!"
The woman nodded grimly. "You thrill to this suffering, don't you, pig?" she murmured absently. "Ache to endure more, am I correct?"
Groaning, the young woman nodded, her head rolling drunkenly about her shoulders. "Ohh, yes, Mistress, I know it, now, and I love it so," she groaned.
"You must tell me what you have learned then, scum," the woman growled. "You must tell all of us, what you have been taught, what the pain has given you!"
It was almost impossible to speak through her suffering, but Janet was able to gasp a few, stuttering words. "I have learned. ... learned how beautiful the pain truly is," she moaned. "I have learned how wonderful it is to suffer, Mistress!"
"And whom do you suffer for, pig?" the woman demanded, cruelly.
"For you, Mistress," Janet screamed breathlessly. "Ohh, God, I suffer for only you, only you, my blessed Mistress!"
The woman cackled, taking her hands from the girl's breasts and wiping the blood from them on her thighs. She pulled on a pair to long, tight leather gloves and picked up a pair of ugly, metal vises.
"Why do you suffer for me, little pig?" she asked, almost teasingly as she adjusted the width of the vises. "Tell them why you endure this pain for me!"
"Because ... because of your love, Mistress," she sobbed. "And because of my love for you!"
"Why do you love me, scum?" growled the woman even more fiercely, then. "Tell me, now, why you love me, pig!"
The young woman strained to speak her lips quivering violently with the effort that it took. "Ohh, God, Mistress," she finally sobbed. "Because you are the only reason I have for being!"
triumphantly the woman glanced up from the writhing young woman and grinned at the seated slaves and guests. They were all straining forward to listen, all of them poised on the edge of their chairs with anticipation.
"You see, see how much she has surrendered?" she cackled. "There is. so little of herself left to her now, that it hardly matters at all!"
Aurelia took the two, gleaming vises then and fit their open jaws around the base of the girl's torn and trembling breasts. One side of each vise was flat and polished, while the other tooled into sharp, pointed teeth.
Slowly she began to close the vises against the girl's breasts, driving the teeth into the pert, fleshy globes, sending new and shocking spasms of fiery agony racing through the already throbbing and tortured mounds.
Janet's lips and teeth parted in a squeal of vicious suffering and pain. Her head thrashed on the bench, pounding fiercely against the wood as the woman forced the jutting teeth all the way into her precious boobs.
Blood welled up around the gleaming metal handles of the vises, marring their bright blue coloring. Her buttocks thumped up and down on the bench in her spasms of pain and her hands locked into tight, tiny fists.
"Now she surrenders completely, don't you, scum?" growled the woman. "Now she belongs to me, and always shall, right bitch?"
"Yes, Mistress, always yes," the girl moaned, the tears that streamed from her eyes, a flood of pleasure and joy. "Always, yours, Mistress! Always, yours!"
"Do you love me, pig?" hissed the woman coldly. "Say how much you love me, bitch!"
"Ohh, God, Mistress, I love you more than I can tell you, now," cried the tortured young woman. "Thank you, Mistress, thank you for this gift of ecstasy!"
Laughing, Aurelia began to tug and pull on the handles of the vises, twisting and turning the teeth inside of the grrl's quaking breasts. She jerked and shuddered with the savage pain, but only cried with more pleasure and delight.
"You would do anything I said, now, wouldn't you my pet?" Aurelia said, her voice almost melodic in tone.
The girl moaned in pleasure, totally consumed with the suffering at this point, not longer fighting it at all, but embracing it, eagerly with her flesh and mind. Aurelia's voice, in that moment, was most pleasing and loving thing she had ever heard, and she responded to it, joyfully.
"Yes, ohh, God, yes, my Mistress," she whispered fiercely. "I love you so much, Mistress, I would do anything you say!"
Aurelia chuckled knowingly, her laughter rich with her approval and delight in the young woman's response. She ran one of her leather-gloved palms over Janet's sweat dreanched belly and began to knead her loins, harshly.
"All that matters to you, now, is my happiness, right bitch?" she murmured, sweetly. "All that matters is what I desire?"
Her head jerked violently from left to right and the young woman sobbed as she forced herself to speak. To her, the Mistress was an awesome being, then, completely perfect in every way, the only real thing to her anymore.
"I am yours, Mistress," she moaned urgently. "Yours to command, yours to do with as you wish, yours for anything you desire, yes, yes!"
"Pleasure and pain, suffering and ecstasy, they all come from me, my sweet," whispered the woman, roaming her fingers over the girl's cunt more urgently, then. "Everything that you are, everything that you know, all of it comes from me!"
The girl nodded wildly, feeling the rippling, almost thundering heat of delight was was spreading swiftly through her loins. She gasped and sobbed, jerking in spasms of bliss as the fingers massaged her, intently.
Now, more than ever, she felt complete in her flesh and spirit. Her Mistress had given her great pain, even as she was giving her the added bliss of almost total pleasure. She felt nothing but swirling ecstasy in that moment, nothing but fierce and totally unrelenting surrender.
"Love me, Mistress," she begged softly. "Love me and let me do your will!"
"Ohh, I shall love you, my pet," murmured Aurelia Storm, softly. "I shall love you as only a Mistress can love her slave!"
"I am so unworthy," sobbed the girl. "So useless and foul! Help me, Mistress, ohh, God, please help me become what you desire!"
"You are nothing, now, pig," the woman cooed, lovingly. "But I shall make you all you need to be, now that you have given yourself to me, competely."
The young woman shuddered as Aurelia stood up and beckoned to one of the men seated in the front row. The girl's eyes were filled with tears, her vision was a distorted veil, but she knew, instinctively what was going to happen next.
"You shall never know how many have you," chuckled Aurelia as the man's eager hands replaced hers on the young girl's body. "But it will not matter, for anything that I command to happen to you shall please you, yes?"
The girl shuddered, realizing that she was going to used by an untold number of men, perhaps women, too, and for how long, she could not tell. But it didn't matter, if anything, it excited her more and more.
At last, she was completely under her Mistress's control. At last she was not an independent being any longer, but someone that was completely in the command of this Mistress she loved so well.
She felt the fingers kneading and massaging her, more hands joining the first pair. Soon, she felt at least six pairs of hands wandering over her flesh, thrusting in her pit, exploring her with total abandon.
She felt the shackles being released, so that hands and now organs could reach all entrances to her body. Eagerly she relaxed all her muscles, opened her loins and anal passage and mouth to accept them happily.
Take me, she wanted to scream, take me for I am yours. All that want me can have me, all that wish to hurt and abuse me can do so. I am nothing, only the tool of my blessed Mistress and that is all I shall ever want to be.
Her mind was roaring with the utter joy of being completely without any sense of personal power then. She felt as if she were being lifted higher and higher, gaining more and more freedom, as each strip of her own self-will was peeled away.
She wanted to scream her thanks to her beloved Mistress, but it did not matter, nothing mattered, she was proving her loyalty and affection with every passing moment of her surrender.
Aurelia Storm looked on as the men swarmed over the submissive girl. Her eyes were cool and relaxed, her lips relaxed and smiling warmly. The process was complete, nothing more remained but the simple act of training her. The girl was no longer herself, but belonged to her completely.
Happiness and pleasure flooded her heart like a welcome rain after a long, hot draught.
CHAPTER TEN
Dispite her normal shyness, and all the terrible rumors she had heard, Laurie Davis was reasonably confident in herself as she walked through the door of the big, impressive mansion.
She was only applying for a teaching position, after all, and that shouldn't be anything to worry herself about, she felt.
She had to smile, though, for she knew her heart was pounding with a wild and unreasonable fear, as it always did when she had to do something on her own. She was too damn afraid of things for her own good, she thought.
She was lucky, though, and she knew it. It wasn't everyone that got a job offer from their best friend in college. She was sure glad that she had gotten close to Janet Westerly in those days.
Though she hadn't seen Janet in over a year, she knew that their reunion would be immediate and good. They were so much alike, she knew, and we both trying to get out from under the feet of grasping parents.
As she sat in the foyer of the huge mansion, gazing around in wonder at all the expensive furnishings, and fine, old paintings on the walls, she knew one thing for sure, Janet had just accomplished the goal.
It was going to be so good to see her again, Laurie thought. It hadn't been easy making friends in college, and Janet had been one of the few she had finally been able to connect with.
She wondered if she was seeing any men these days. Neither of them had had much luck in that department before now, and she had a feeling that Janet was ahead of her on that score, too.
She hoped that she would introduce her to some good people around here, for she was sick and tired of sitting at home on Friday nights, watching the tube with her mother and father.
I'm a good-looking young woman, she thought, defensively. There's no reason why I couldn't have a decent love-life, if I got half the chance. No reason at all.
As always, when the shy, attractive girl thought of such things, she began to blush heavily. She hated herself for it, and was embarrassed by the red that filled her cheeks, but she couldn't help it.
She was always so afraid, and so damn lonely, too, she thought, bitterly. She yearned for someone to lean on, someone strong and powerful, someone to take control of her life, almost.
Such things weren't real, of course, they only happened in the movies. In real life, she had learned, you had to be responsible for yourself, because nobody else had the time or desire to do that for you.
She sighed heavily, her fear and impatience growing steadily as she waited to be called into the office. She could hear the hum of typewriters behind the heavy glass door and she shivered with expectation.
It seemed like forever since she had last talked to Janet. When she had gotten her telephone call two weeks ago, she had been shocked and delighted. Tfie very idea of working with her lifted her spirits one hundred percent.
She heard the opening of the office door, then and looked up to see a pretty, but rather vacant-eyed young girl waving her hand toward her. Fighting her fear and worry, Laurie walked toward her.
"Mistress Janet will see you now," the girl murmured dully.
She led Laurie into a big, luxurious office and had her sit down in a huge, comfortable chair. She gazed around the room, wondering where Janet was, now and then staring at the mirror that nearly covered the length of one wall.
On the far side of the mirror, Janet Westerly and Brad Taylor were observing the young girl's nervousness with cold, calculating eyes. Janet in particular was gazing with a great intensity.
"What do you think, Brad?" she murmured without looking at him.
He nodded. "She certainly reminds me of someone I used to know," he chuckled teasingly. "Almost an exact copy."
Janet snorted with distaste. "Honestly, Brad, don't you ever plan on being serious?" she hissed, pointing at the girl on the other side of the wall. "I asked you for an opinion."
He shrugged. "I can't tell just yet, but she looks like a prime candidate all right," he sighed. "Though I don't know why we need another trainer so soon."
Janet glared at him. "Aurelia needs all the assistance she can get, now that she's opening two more centers up," she growled. "It's up to use to train them. It's our duty to our Mistress."
He nodded, sighing heavily. "Well, it's your decision," he groaned. "After all, she left you in charge, didn't she?"
Janet nodded, but her mind was hardly on the girl in front of her anymore. She was allowing her thoughts to drift back, with a mounting excitement at the memory, to the first time she trained a slave for her beloved Mistress.
It had been a wonderful experience, especially given the fact that the girl turned out to be someone she vaguely knew. Her name had been Martha Polk and she had been a thorn in Janet's side all during high school.
While they had never been friends, Martha did know her, and had mercilessly taunted her as a young girl, for her shyness and lack of ease with boys. She hadn't seen Martha in almost five years, and wondered what had happened to her.
"She turned into an even worse bitch, than when you knew her'" Mistress Aurelia informed her. "She married well, and has been deviling her husband ever since."
From what she heard, Martha had turned out to be as bad as anyone could, Janet thought. She married a rich man's son, spent his money like water, gave him hell and did whatever she liked.
After five years, the father had given the son an ultimatum. Either change the bitch or get rid of her. That's when the son learned of Aurelia Storm's very special school and instantly sent his wife there.
She was kept in the dungeon for nearly a month, as they often did with such cases, before being brought to the punishment chamber for the first time. In the beginning, with Aurelia doing most of the inital disciplining and breaking down, she was haughty and indignant, losing little of her bitchiness.
It was only after she had been molded carefully, subjected to the punishment work details and long hours of harsh labor and little food, that Aurelia allowed Janet to take over.
Martha had been standing in the center of the punishment room, trembling with a mixture of fear and anger when Janet walked in. For a moment she did not recognize her old classmate, and when she finally did, she almost leaped for joy.
"Janet Westerly," she sobbed. "Ohh, thank God I have a friend here, at last!"
She ran to embrace her old classmate but the moment she reached her, Janet slammed her doubled fist hard into Martha's belly, driving her gasping to her knees.
She reached down and took hold of the woman's hair, yanking her head back up to face her. "Pig," she growled. "I can see you have a lot to learn, yet."
Martha stared in disbelief, her stomach pounding with pain as Janet glared down at her. She moved her lips to speak but the other woman slapped her face hard, knocking her to her side.
"Take off the miserable shift, scum, your much needed punishment is about to begin, you worthless pig!"
Shivering with a mixture of shock and fear, Martha quickly stripped off the poor, ragged garment, and lay on the floor, shivering against the dampness of the stone and the growing sense of terror that was infecting her.
"What ... what are you going to do to me, Janet?" she whispered urgently. "I.. I'm your old friend, remember?"
Janet laughed cruelly. "I have no friends," she sneered savagely. "And what I am going to do to you, is teach you what you are, bitch!"
She grabbed the trembling woman by the hair, pulling her, roughly, to her feet. Martha squealed in pain, jerking spasmodically as she was pushed and shoved across the room, driven with occasional kicks to her ripe, round buttocks. She tried to avoid the well-aimed kicks, but it was almost impossible.
Moaning, the young woman hardly had time to realize what was happening, before she found her arms being pulled over a beam behind the wall and shackled tightly to the long, wide board.
The sweat of fevered fear was pouring off her, then and she shuddered as she watched a grim-faced Janet pulling a table over to where she was bound. Quickly, Janet shackled her ankles to a pair of cuffs embeded in the floor, leaving the woman totally helpless.
She had a large, glass mug of thick shaving cream in one hand and a gleaming straight razor in the other. Humming softly to herself, she spread a thick layer of cream over the woman's mound, and Martha moaned in fear.
"Are you crazy?" she whispered frantically. "What are you going to do with that, Janet?"
Chuckling, the young woman smoothed the cream out evenly. "A childish, selfish little bitch like you is hardly a woman, is she?" she laughed. "So, we must make you the little, spoiled girl that you are, pig!"
Martha shuddered as she felt the razor moving over her mound, listening to the harsh scrape of metal slicing through hair. She gasped as one of her tremors caused the razor to slip and nick her.
"Don't do that, bitch," growled Janet, coldly. "You make another move and it will just be worse!"
As Martha fought to control her trembling body, Janet was feeling the thrill of being in command, but even more so, the deep, satisfying pleasure of doing her Mistress's work. She was being useful in the most important way, and of course, for her, that was everything.
When she finished shaving the mound clean, she dabbed it with a towel until she had cleared away all the pubic hair and shaving cream. She inspected the area briefly, nodding with satisfaction to herself.
"All right, pig, you are ready to be punished," she hissed. "Try and relax scum, it does no good to fight the discipline."
Martha sobbed, shaking her head, wildly. "Why are you doing this?" she moaned. "Why am I here, Janet, why?"
"I am Mistress Janet to you, pig," the young woman growled. "You will use that term whenever you speak, bitch!"
She picked up a large, leather cowl from the , table, then, and forced it down over the trembling woman's head. When she pulled it tightly against her shoulders, she fingered the ring that was fitted through a loop in a flap beneath Martha's chin.
She had a short piece of twine in her hand and she showed it to the woman, her eyes blazing with excitement. "You have used your body to get your own way too often, scum," she hissed. "You are about to find out how meaningless your flesh truly is, pig!"
Martha shuddered in fear as Janet gripped one of her firm, large breasts in her hand and rubbed the nipple back and forth, briskly with her thumb, until it was hard and erect.
She fit the loop of one end of the short piece of twine over the nipple and pulled it tight. Marth gasped in pain as she felt the harsh cord cutting into her nipple, and stared down at Janet's hands in horror.
Quickly, the young woman slipped the length of twine through the metal ring and forced the other loop over Martha's other nipple. When she pulled it tight, she freed the woman's breasts and Martha screamed in pain.
The length of the twine was so short,,that it pulled the breasts upward a a terrible angle, drawing the flesh of the nipples taut with pain. Instantly Martha began to sweat, the fear oozing out of her, uncontrollably.
"Pain is good for you," Janet murmured softly, as her beloved Mistress had taught her. "Pain teaches you to be humble and obedient, pig, something you surely can use more of!"
She now picked up the more important objects of this exercise and showed them to the horrified woman. Martha screamed again, but this time out of a mounting terror that was uncontrollable. "God, no, you can't, Janet," she gasped, shaking her head, wildly. "You ... you don't mean it, Janet, please, no, please!"
"Hush now, my little pig," murmured the young woman as she forced the flat, metal comb between Martha's chest bone and upper breasts. "You must accept your punishment happily, for it is the gift of your new Mistress!"
The teeth of the metal comb were all sharpened to a razor edge and gleaming point, and merely resting against the woman's breasts, they instantly dug into her flesh. She moaned as the pain grew worse in her globes, searing like a spreading flame.
There were a pair of elastic cords attached to the sides of the comb and the ends of these cords were tied to an object that appeared to be a pair of hooked clasps. Martha sobbed wildly as she felt Janet massaging her vaginal lips, then.
"Ohh, no, please, please don't," she wailed, jerking violently as she felt the woman spreading her petals apart. "No, for the love of God, no!"
But Janet merely ignored her wailing pleas and quickly fit the sharp, gripping hooks of the clasps between Martha's vaginal lips. She let the tight spring on the clasps close shut with an audible snap.
Martha's scream was long and fierce as the elastic cord pulled tight, tugging up on her cunt lips and pulling the teeth of the comb deep into the flesh of her upper breasts. Instantly, the pain swirled and took hold of her flesh.
Her head threw back instinctively, which only served to pull up on her breasts, driving the comb deeper into her flesh, and pulling the hooks in her vagina ever further into her inner walls.
Her body jerked violently with the rolling, spreading waves of agony that enveloped her, and she could barely hear Janet's voice as the young woman cooed to her in a loving, melodic tone.
"Feel the pain, my sweet pig?" she whispered teasingly, soothingly, in turn. "Feel it spreading, consuming you totally? Isn't it wonderful, my pet, isn't it delicious, the way it takes hold?"
"It hurts, it hurts too much," Martha sobbed, thickly. "Ohh, God, I can't stand it, Janet, I just can't stand it, please!"
Janet laughed savagely pulling on the elastic strands of cord, allowing them to drag the comb and clasps deeper into the young woman's flesh, before she let them snap free of her fingers, once more.
"Of course you can, my sweet," she chuckled softly. "You must, for you see, it is the beginning for you, the first stage of your new and wonderful life!"
She went on fronr there to explain, in careful, calm language just what sort of a life lay in store for the suffering woman. Eagerly, she told her of her own history, and the joy of the moment of complete surrender.
"You will see, my pig," she assured her. "You will come to understand how beautiful it is, how there is nothing in this world more thrilling than becoming a slave to your Mistress!"
Martha was writhing in agony by this point, almost beyond any ability to even hear Janet's voice, much less understand what she was saying. But Janet realized that, and what's more, knew that it really didn't matter.
Since she had witnessed under the careful guidence of her blessed Mistress, and indeed, had learned through her own experience, it did not matter if a slave understood anything but the pain at the beginning.
Watching the droplets of blood falling from Martha's wounds, she felt very littlesense of revenge. To her, it did not matter that Martha had been cruel to her in the past, for as far as she was concerned, she had no past before her surrender.
Learning at the feet of her Mistress had been the beginning of her life, as far as she was concerned. Learning how to be a slave, and then in turn, how to train one, was all that held importance for her, then.
Even now, she still had much, much more to learn, she realized, and applied herself to the task, diligently. Every day, she tried harder and harder to be more perfect in her Mistress's eyes.
In the end, that was the reason she was working so hard on Martha, only to please her beloved and loving Mistress. She was bringing the selfish, self-centered bitch to the point of blind agony for that reason, and that reason alone.
All that mattered were her Mistress's needs. All that was important was the joy and contentment she could feel at having done her job well for the one person that owned her soul completely.
She grinned at Martha as she cooed to her, for she knew that someday soon she would understand. Tugging playfully on the elastic strand, working the comb and hooks inside her flesh, her voice was soft and controlled, yet full of excitement.
"Pain is wonderful, my pig," she murmured breathlessly. "Do not fight it. Surrender, my worthless scum, surrender to the gift of my" punishment."
Twitching and turning, the woman's face was drawn and contorted and her breathing harsh and erratic indeed. Yet, somewhere in the midst of her gasping sobs, Janet could hear the first sound of throbbing excitement and pleasure.
It was just the slightest moan, just the least bit present, but she could hear it, nonetheless. Behind the wailing, behind the fear, she could hear Mathra approaching the ecstasy she knew so well.
"Who is your Mistress, little pig," she whispered demandingly.
Martha jerked and shuddered, moaning in response. "You ... you are, Janet, ohh, God, yes you are, Mistress Janet," she groaned.
Janet laughed in delight. "Do you love your Mistress, then, my precious little scum?" she hissed. "Do you want to make her happy."
Nodding her head, wildly, the young woman gasped in response once more. "Ohh ... yes ... yes," she stammered breathlessly. "Yes, my Mistress, I love you, and I want to make you happy!"
Janet nodded once more in satisfaction. "Then you must learn to suffer for me, my little worthless dove," she whispered. "You must learn to love the pain, for only then, will you be able to surrender, completely."
Martha wailed in agony, her whole body erupting with savage pain and brutal hurt by this time. Her mind was on fire, her temples throbbing like trip hammers, and she could barely think straight.
When she moved her lips, hardly any sound escaped them, and Janet had to lean close to the quivering petals to understand what she was. trying to say. Even then, the tortured moan was almost inaudible.
"Ohhh, I ... I can't...." she sobbed wildly. "I.. I can't, Mistress. Ohh, please, help me, Mistress Janet, help me please!"
Janet's hands, experts at the giving of pain and pleasure by this time, roamed over the girl's flesh inflicting more and more suffering upon her, until Martha was nearly to the point of fainting from sheer agony.
"I will, my sweet scum," she murmured soothingly. "Believe me, I will!"
She had, of course. Over the next few weeks, Martha turned from a willful, bitchy brat to a perfect and loving slave. By the time she was returned to her husband, for a handsome fee of course, she was totally without any self-concern whatsoever.
Mistress Aurelia was greatly pleased, of course, and that was all that Janet had been hoping for in the first place. To do that for her Mistress, to make her day a good one, to do her job perfectly, was all that she wished for.
Her reward had been more than she could have ever hoped for. Mistress Aurelia, her plans quickening all the time, grandly turned the operation of the school over to her completely.
"I'm sure you will do as perfect a job as I could hope for," she had teased her. "Since you are the perfect slave!"
The love she felt in that moment for her Mistress was almost to painful to bear. And she had thrown herself into her work, with a fierce determination, producing the very results she had been commanded to.
Now, as she stared through the glass at her old friend, a slight, warm, yet calculating smile came across her lips. Everything was moving fast, they needed more trainers, and of course, only slaves could learn the art.
There was so much work to be done, she realized, so many, many slaves to be trained. The world was full of women that needed to be taught the lesson of who and what they were, and it was her job to do so.
That the blessed Mistress had given her this task was more than enough to fill the young woman's heart with great happiness and warm, comfortable self-satisfaction. In that one case, she did not feel guilty about her pride, for it was all in terms of performing perfectly for her Mistress.
She gazed at her old friend through the heavy glass of the two-way mirror, noting everything that Laurie was doing. From the way she was shifting nervously in her chair, Janet could tell the young woman was extremely nervous. ,, Janet laughed confidently to herself. Poor Laurie, she was thinking. She is so alone in the world, so afraid and terrorized by it. She needs the kind, loving hand of someone that cares, the hand of a loving, compassionate mistress.
She rose from her chair in front of the mirror and glanced at Brad Taylor. His face was set in a rather grim mask and she laughed at his stern manner. Shaking her head she pointed to the girl in the office through the mirror.
"Get the cell ready for her, Brad," she whispered softly. "I think she's going to be our guest for awhile."
Brad Taylor snorted at her banter and nodded. He glanced once through the mirror and sighed heavily. "Hope she finds it comfortable," he murmured.
Janet Westerly, faithful slave of her Mistress, Aurelia Storm, now the head of Storm house, turned her attention to the girl on the other side of the mirror once more. She thanked her Mistress silently, for all she had done for her.
Her Mistress had taken her from her foolish, useless life and turned her to the path she had been destined for. It could have been an amazing thing to her, all this feeling of power and confidence, but it was not.
She had long since realized that her sense of personal power was only due to the fact that she no longer had to concern herself with her own well-being. Her Mistress took care of all that, and thus, she did not have to worry, about making mistakes any more. How could she possibly make a mistake, even think a wrong thought, when all she ever did was respond in the manner described by her blessed Mistress. It was impossible to fail, for she never functioned on her own.
She sighed with a feeling of great satisfaction and nodded her head. The room was full of quiet anticipation as she stepped in and smiled at her old friend. A flood of love and affection for Laurie invaded her.
Janet nodded at the young woman sitting nervously in the chair in front of her desk and spread her arms wide in an offering of embrace. Sobbing with delight and relief, Laurie rushed to her arms.
As she held her tightly, Janet was thinking that yes, Laurie would be a welcome addition to their staff. She would make a perfect slave, a true and loyal trainer.
She hugged her friend tightly, welcoming her silently to her new world and brand-new light. She could feel the rippling excitement in the young woman's tight embrace.
Laurie would be peffect, all right, as all Mistress Aurelia's slaves would be. After all, that was the nature of surrender, wasn't it?
