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Subject: {ASSM} Under Control - part five
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Under Control - part five
copyright Victor Bruno, release to publish
granted to Christine Stevenson.


Face to the wall, Karen sobbed quietly. She had been doing so for
some five minutes, ever since they entered the cell, refusing to
answer Paul's tentative, whispered questions. He gazed at the
shapely naked bottom, one hip curvingly upthrust. At least he
could do that. From time to time the reddened flesh twitched. He
could easily understand how tender her soft, girlish bottom must
be . . . because his own tougher and far more experienced male
flesh was uncomfortably sore.

"Karen . . . ." he tried again. "I can't help being a man. I
can't even touch you, can I? Don't be shy. After all I'm a slave,
too."

Karen sobbed louder, shoulders heaving. "Oh stop it . . . stop it
.. . . I . . . I don't want to talk . . . I c-can't bear any . . .
any . . . m-more . . ."

They were the first words she had spoken, so Paul was encouraged.
"I'm afraid a slave has to bear more than he . . . or she . . .
thinks they can" he said gently. "I know. I've been a woman's
slave for at least six months now. As cruel and vicious a woman
as you could meet. Oh yes, I know." He paused, feeling a little
guilty for having been disloyal to his mistress. "How long have
you been here, Karen?" he asked.

"Th-three w-weeks . . ." whispered Karen. "No . . . it must be
nearly a month now . . . ." her sobs were subsiding.

"Ahh," said Paul, "then it's all very new to you, then. I
understand. In so many ways it's much worse at first. You must be
brave. Later - when you are harder and when you have learnt to
submit - truly submit - it will not be so bad . . . ."

"Oh how can you even say such things," cried Karen indignantly.
At last she turned around and sat up, her big breasts swinging.
Seeing Paul's eyes on them she flushed slightly and covered them
with her hands. "Oh . . . oh . . . you don't know how aw-awful it
is," she went on. "They beat you for the slightest fault. For
nothing! Day in, day out. And . . . and . . . they make us go
about . . . like . . . like this. Naked . . . It's awful . . . .
ohh . . . awful . . . and worse . . . . for a w-woman than for a
m-man . . . . can't you understand?"

"Yes . . . yes . . . . I understand," said Paul quietly. The main
aim was to gain the girl's confidence. One never knew what might
come of it. "There isn't really any need to cover yourself like
that," he continued. "As you know, I am a slave. We are fellow
slaves. We must trust and help each other. In any event I have
already seen far more than what you are showing me now for most
of the afternoon."

Karen flushed more deeply and bit her lower lips. All the same
she slowly lowered her hands. "I suppose I ought to be used to it
by now," she said wretchedly. "I . . . I haven't had a stitch on
since I've been here . . . Oh my God . . . the way they look at
you . . . and . . . and . . . the things they do to the other
girls . . . ." Karen lowered her head. "One day they'll do them
to me, too, I know."

Paul nodded sympathetically. "I can only counsel you to be brave.
And not to resist . . . I know that is against all natural
instinct . . . but you must try. The sooner you learn to obey
instantly and submit completely the better. I know it's hard, but
you must try."

The girl looked at Paul with blue eyes still misted with tears.
"In a way I realise you're right," she said miserably. "already
I've learnt that." Her face puckered. "Of course it's better to
obey than be beaten . . . but . . . but . . . . it's so difficult
.. . . and . . . and they expect so much. Sometimes it's
impossible!"

"I can only say, Karen, that it will get less difficult," said
Paul kindly. He was finding this conversation and growing
understanding most pleasant. It was the first 'human' contact he
had enjoyed with a woman for months! "How did you get here?" he
asked.

"I . . I was abducted. Drugged and abducted. From college."
answered Karen. "They made it appear I had run away . . . dropped
out, you know. One moment I was leading a happy life, the next
thing I remember is waking up here . . . in a cell like this.
Naked and chained." Karen began to cry softly again. "Within half
an hour I was being taken to the Punishment Room to get my first
caning."

Paul was shocked. The only other slave girl he had known was
Susan, who like himself, was in service to Gloria. And one might
say that both he and Susan, were almost willing victims. But
Karen claimed to have been abducted against her will, Paul
started to realise how ruthless these people must be. What was
his mistress mixed up in? Surely she couldn't know of this?
Perhaps Karen was exaggerating!

"Please don't cry," he said. "It doesn't do any good, you know."

Karen did her best, not very successfully. "Th-Thank you for
talking to me like this," she said. "It's a comfort . . . in a
way. Of course, I've talked to some of the girls . . . but that's
not the same somehow." It was a response that delighted Paul.
"They seem to only care about what is happening to them, not
anybody else. You're different."

Paul smiled wryly. "Oh I care alright," he said. "I'm not exactly
looking forward to the Punishment Room later."

A spasm of dread crossed Karen's pretty young face. "Oh God . . .
oh God no . . . no . . . I don't deserve it . . . do I? DO I? How
could I help it?" The big breasts bounced up and down with
agitation.

"No, you didn't deserve it," agreed Paul. "It's just part of the
disciplinary regime. Designed to break you. In body, mind and
spirit."

The girl buried her face in her hands. "Yes . . . yes .. . ." she
moaned. "Oh . . . how can they be so cruel? I . . . I just can't
bear to think of . . . of more p-punishment. Especially a caning.
I . . . I'm so t-tender and burning already . . ."

"I realise that," said Paul. "But, remember, I am to be punished
equally. And apparently for nothing at all. Just my mistress's
whim." He saw Karen looking at him with more sympathy. "What time
is Miss Delia likely to return?" he enquired.

"Q-Quite s-soon," replied Karen with a little shudder. "Evening
punishment sessions are at seven o'clock."

"There is another session then?" Paul asked, not at all liking
the sound of so many punishment sessions. It boded ill!

"Yes," answered Karen. "The morning session is at eleven o'clock.
Sometimes they divide a punishment. Half in the evening. Half in
the morning. Just so you can spend a sleepless night thinking
about it, I suppose."

Paul nodded. He knew all about the mental anguish of divided or
suspended punishments. Gloria was an artist at it.

At that moment there was the sound of a key being turned in the
lock. Karen uttered a startled cry and Paul felt the hair on the
nape of his neck rise. The moment had come.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

This story was released as an illustrated web book. For
details of Victor Bruno Books available please contact

VictorBruno@MsChristine.com
http://www.mschristine.com/bruno.html

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