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From: The Technician <Technician666@GMail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Twelve Days a Slave 3 of 13   Pony Girls, Spanking, Public Nudity, Public Humiliation, Public Punishment
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Date: Thu, 28 Jan 2016 06:10:02 -0500
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Twelve Days a Slave 3 of 13
by
The Technician

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Slave missy begins the first of her eleven days of punishment.

This is the story of a young woman's conviction as a terrorist and
what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal
slavery is not impossible. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to
the Constitution of the United States of America do not NOT prohibit
slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other
words, the Constitution allows penal slavery.

After the woman is convicted, a "sentence negotiator" gets her
sentence reduced to a public day of repentance followed by eleven days
of public punishment. Following that, she is to serve one year of
penal servitude.

This story deals with non-consensual punishment, pain, and involuntary
slavery. If such topics offend you or upset you, I would advise
skipping this particular book.

There are thirteen chapters to this story. The chapters can be read on
their own, but the story is much better understood if the previous
portions have been read. The complete story is full book length. I
debated publishing it with some of my other books at Fiction4all, but
decided that I would rather serialize it and post it here.

A description of the thirteen chapters follows the end of each
chapter. This chapter is the first of missy's 11 days of public
punishment. On this first day of punishment, Master Hiroya Takahashi
demonstrates properly-trained pony girls, and instructs missy on the
proper way to receive a punishment spanking. The focus of this chapter
is pony girls and public spanking.

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

WARNING!  All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18
ONLY.  Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content.  All
people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to
persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations,
and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real
life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference
between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province,
nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts
depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to
somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if
acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is
included with the article.  This story is copyright (c) 2015 by The
Technician ( Technician666@Gmail.Com. )

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this
story for personal, non-commercial use.  Production of multiple copies
of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly
forbidden.

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician}
The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639
Senior Project  http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753
Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160
I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
 * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Chapter Three - The first day of punishment.

Missy slept surprisingly well her first night as a slave. Perhaps that
was because in her dreams she was free. She was wearing the beautiful
dress and shoes and lingerie that she had worn that morning, but was
at some lavish party in a beautiful mansion. Then the clock struck
midnight and the everything disappeared. Suddenly she was being led
out of the party naked and in chains.

"It isn't fair! It isn't fair! It isn't fair!" she began screaming.
She awoke to her own screams. A guard was standing outside her cell.

"Keep it down," he said. "You'll wake the other prisoners."

Slave missy looked at the clock which was barely visible in the
hallway. It was 6:00 am. Her first day of punishment would soon begin.

Around 6:30 the guard showed up with her breakfast. It was some sort
of waffle and what looked like very thick bacon. There was no
silverware. Evidently jail waffles were finger food. There was also a
plastic bottle of some sort of juice. Vicki tasted it and was unsure
of exactly what it was, but it was cold and sweet, so she finished it
with her breakfast.

A toothbrush had been provided for her, so she brushed her teeth after
breakfast. Standing in front of the sink she looked at her naked,
hairless body. "It sure saves time getting ready in the morning," she
said aloud. "How will I style my hair today... oh, I don't have any.
What will I wear today... oh, it's above 58 degrees so I will just
stay naked."

She continued to stare at herself in the mirror. For a moment tears
welled up in her eyes as she read and re-read the brand above her left
breast which said "slave missy."  It finally dawned on her that the
lack of capital letters was not an accident. Slaves didn't really have
names. They had property designations. That realization brought more
silent tears as she lightly rubbed the brand that was permanently
burned into her flesh.

Finally she gave a deep sigh and spoke to her reflection in the
mirror, "Well, slave missy," she said, "you made it through day one.
Only eleven days to go." She looked down at the floor and then back up
at herself before she added shakily, "And then at least one year of
slavery."

The guard interrupted her conversation with herself at that point.
"Time to get back in your cage," he said loudly.

As missy did so, he added, "Back against the bars away from the door."

She entered the cage and pressed herself against the bars. The guard
then entered the cell and immediately locked the big padlock onto the
cage. After that, he came around the cage and placed the heavy metal
collar around her throat.

"Face me and put your hands next to the bars," he ordered.

Missy did as she was commanded and the guard affixed the manacles to
her wrists.

"Hold your leg next to the bars," was the next command, followed by
"Other leg."

Missy was now back in the chains she had worn the day before.

When the guard stepped out of the cell, he left the door open. He
returned a moment later with the pallet jack and rolled her out to the
loading dock. In place of the caisson, today there was a small, low,
square trailer. And in place of the horses was a four-wheeled ATV.

"We'll have to use the winch to set her in place today," said the
driver of the ATV. "After that, they can roll her on and off the
trailer with the pallet jack if they want."

The driver- one of the bailiffs- then attached the cable to the top of
the cage. When it was lowered down on the trailer, missy could see
that it fit exactly into a large, square, metal frame. Once it was in
place, the bailiff and the guard flipped four latches up and tightened
them, holding the cage firmly in place. The bailiff then drove the ATV
down the ramp which led from the dock to the alley.

When he reached the street, a regular police car was awaiting them. It
turned on its lights and moved out into traffic. A black SUV fell into
line behind them. They then drove slowly through the town and out to
the local fairgrounds where her punishment would take place.

When they arrived, there was already a large crowd gathered at the
speedway, which doubled as a program stage when bands or other acts
were in town. Missy could see that the stage was set up a little
farther out into the track than normal. She could also see that the
stands were packed and additional chairs were set up on the track.
Those too were tightly-packed.

The driver slowed to not more than a crawl as he drove past the front
of the crowd. People were standing to take her picture, and again
children were lifting dolls. Missy wasn't sure why they did that.
Maybe it was just to show them to her, or perhaps they were comparing
her to their dolls to see how accurate they were. In either case, she
felt it was a bit creepy.

A large ramp had been built on the side of the stage and after the
bailiff had gone the entire length of the crowd, he made a sharp turn
and went up onto the stage. A cable was lowered from above and the
cage was lifted from the trailer. She expected it to be set down on
the stage once the trailer had left the stage, but instead, the cage
was raised further so that she was suspended about twelve feet above
the stage.

Once her cage was in place and had stopped spinning, William Wilson
stepped onto the stage. He was dressed in a tuxedo. His hair had been
dyed, or at least touched up, and was immaculately cut and styled. He
was holding a microphone in his hands.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "today is day two of twelve for
Vicki LeClaire's repentance and punishment and is sponsored by The
Hiroya Takahashi Slave Training School. Whether for production or
pleasure, Master Takahashi will train your slave to perfectly fulfill
your every command."

He pointed to the side of the stage where an older Japanese gentleman
stood. "Master Takahashi will now give us a little demonstration of
some of the training which can be done at his school."

Hiroya was dressed in a thick linen robe which seemed to flow with him
as he came to the center of the stage. He stepped back several steps
and clapped his hands loudly. Four men and three women came running
onto the stage and formed a line. It was obvious that they were slaves
because, except for their shoes, they were naked. Their brands were
easily visible. Missy noted that all of them bore the name "slutslave"
followed by three numbers. She ran her hand across her own slave brand
and said softly aloud to herself, "Thank you, Mister Wilson."

Master Takahashi clapped his hands once more and two more slaves came
onto the stage pulling small carts loaded with various pieces of
metal. A third slave ran over to where the Master was and stood there
holding a large electronic stopwatch.

Hiroya clapped his hands and the seven worker slaves began furiously
assembling what turned out to be a set of shelving like would be used
in a warehouse. In just moments they all stood back and the Master
once again clapped his hands.

William stepped back into the center of the stage and announced, "That
was assembled in just two minutes and twenty-three seconds. Do your
slave workers work that fast? If not, why not check out The Hiroya
Takahashi Slave Training School?"

The Master clapped his hands twice rapidly and the slaves began
disassembling the shelves. If anything they were faster than they had
been while assembling it. While they were working, William continued,
"Not all slaves are production slaves. Some are sports slaves, and
what better sport for slave owners than pony racing?"

He stepped to the side of the stage and announced "Master Takahashi
will now demonstrate properly-trained pony slaves."

The Master clapped his hands and the slaves on stage scurried away
taking the pieces of the shelves with them. They were replaced on
stage by six pony girls. Unlike the previous slaves, these girls were
not totally naked.  They were wearing elaborate, hooded headpieces
consisting of high feathered tops, blinders, and an attached posture
collar. Each had a bit strapped firmly in her mouth and a long tail
attached to an anal plug which was inserted in her ass. A tight corset
completed the outfit. It lifted their breasts up so that the bells
which were hanging from chains clamped to their nipples didn't pull
the breasts down.

Hiroya now had a small whip in his hands. He snapped it once and the
six girls moved to the very front edge of the stage. In almost slow
motion they high-stepped in place while holding their hands before
them like a dog walking on its hind legs. It was now obvious that
their hands were encased in hoof gloves. The horseshoes on the end of
the gloves flashed slightly as they reflected the stage lights.

Hiroya snapped the whip again and the girls formed a small circle.
They were now moving more rapidly as they raised their knees as high
as they could with each step. Another snap of the whip and they were
almost running. Their bodies were beginning to shine with the
exertion. Another snap of the whip and they were moving even faster.
One or two of them were starting to fumble slightly as they danced
rapidly around their circle, but none slowed their frantic pace.

Three rapid snaps of the whip and the pony girls suddenly froze in
place mid-step. They slowly lowered their legs to the ground and then
keeping in step with each other, opened the circle and high-stepped
back to their line at the front of the stage. A snap of the whip and
they high-stepped off stage down the ramp.

William again stepped forward. "If your interest is not dressage but
actual racing, Master Takahashi is still the trainer for you."

There was a loud "Hee-a-yup" and three pony girl carts roared around
from behind the stage to pass single file in front of the crowd. Once
past the seats, they fanned out almost abreast and began running
around the track. The pony girls were dressed similarly to the ones
who had performed the dressage routine on stage, but they were
obviously much more muscular. Each of the drivers had a thin whip
which they used to urge their ponies to run faster. This was just a
demonstration, but there were still probably grave consequences for
the pony girl who came in last in this one lap race.

The three carts roared around the last turn and into the final
straight-away. Just before the seated area, they suddenly slowed and
again went into single file to pass in front of the audience. The
third pony girl looked very afraid.

The three carts passed in front and then curved around to where they
had come from behind the stage. A few moments later one of the pony
girls came up on stage. From the color of her head-piece, it was
obvious it was the third place pony girl.

She walked over to Master Hiroya and handed him something. Then,
keeping her back to the audience, she bent over and placed her hands
on the stage. The plug which held her tail was clearly visible.

Master Takahashi stepped forward slightly. He held up his hand to show
the audience what the pony girl had given him. It was a quirt, a long
rod with three thin strips of leather braided and attached to the end.

He drew the quirt across her naked bottom and her tail quivered as her
ass cheeks clenched and unclenched. Then suddenly drawing back his
hand, he flicked his wrist and brought the quirt down sharply across
her ass cheeks.

The pony girl yelped, but otherwise remained silent. The quirt flashed
again and the girl once again yelped. There appeared to be no motion
to Hiroya's arm or hand, but the quirt moved at great speed and the
sound of the leather striking flesh could be heard throughout the
arena.

On the fifth stroke, the girl cried out. On the seventh she began
pleading for mercy. By the tenth she was beyond words and just
screamed and grunted with each new slash of the whip.

Many in the crowd were counting softly as the master whipped the
losing pony girl, but many voices speaking softly add up. The count
could be clearly heard... "twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four,
twenty-five."

The master stopped at twenty-five. The pony girl slave remained with
her hands on the stage floor. Her crying and the pain in her ass
cheeks were shaking her body. Hiroya reached out and touched her back
with the quirt. She immediately stood up and faced him.

He held out the quirt and she kissed it. Then she took it in her teeth
and, using the proper high-step, pranced off stage.

As she left, William again came forward. He was carrying a stout,
armless, wooden chair which he set in the center of the stage.

"And now the moment you have all been waiting for," he said with a
flourish. "Master Takahashi will demonstrate for you-  and for slave
missy- the proper way to give a hand spanking."

He paused to look out over the crowd. "Remember," he said, "each
punishment is based on the number 46, which represents the 46
businesses whose computer systems were crashed by the cyber attack."
He shrugged and then added, "Of course, if slave missy doesn't keep in
proper position, she might end up with a lot more than 46 swats to her
ass."

He gave a hand signal and the cage slowly descended to the stage.
William open the padlock and motioned for slave missy to step out. She
did.

"I call your attention to the guards surrounding the stage," he said
loudly as he gestured with his arm at the dozen uniformed guards who
had appeared around the stage. "Eight of these guards have
tranquilizer guns," he explained. Then speaking very solemnly he
added, "Four of them are armed with standard ammunition."

Turning to missy he said, "I think their presence will help you to
answer this question. Do you promise that if I remove your chains and
shackles that you will not attempt to escape?" He paused and said
dramatically, "Keep in mind that the moment you attempt to leave the
stage, eight tranquillizer guns will be shooting at you." His voice
dropped in volume, but retained its drama. "And as soon as your feet
touch the track, the other four guards will cut you down."

He held up the key to the shackles. "So," he said, "do you promise not
to attempt to escape?"

Missy knew that this question was going to be asked. She had not been
told about the theatrics which would accompany it. She had even been
quizzed earlier to be sure that she remembered the proper form for her
answer.

Her voice was slightly shaky as she answered. "I promise that I will
not try to escape. I accept that I deserve this punishment and I
submit myself to Master Takahashi that he might properly punish me."

The crowd roared its approval. As they cheered and clapped and
whistled, William leaned in close to missy so that he could begin
opening the locks. He also said softly to her, "It's all showmanship.
Everyone now thinks you are a very dangerous terrorist. We are already
almost sold out for tomorrow. The people in town can hear those
cheers. The remaining tickets will be gone before we finish today's
show."

William then led her over to where Master Hiroya was seated. He had a
heavy oriental accent- missy thought it was Japanese. Patting his lap
he said, "Lie across my lap, slave. And then support yourself on your
toes and fingertips."

Missy lay hesitantly across his lap. As she settled herself down, he
slapped her smartly and said, "Toes and fingertips!"

Missy lifted herself up on her hands and feet. Master Hiroya slapped
her again. This time it was much harder and the sound of his hand
striking her ass reverberated through the arena. 

"Do you not understand English?!" he said angrily. "I said toes and
fingertips, not hands and feet."

Missy looked up and him. Her confusion must have been apparent on her
face because he held his hand out with his fingers formed as if he
were holding a large ball. "Fingertips!" he said firmly. "And toes!"

She formed her hands into the shape he had shown her and pushed her
palms up off the floor. She also rocked her feet forward so that all
that was touching was her toes.

"Support yourself," he ordered. It took missy a moment to understand
what he wanted, but then she tightened her muscles and lifted her body
slightly off his lap.

"You will count all 46 spanks," he said. His voice became much firmer
as he added, "If you lose count, I start over. If your body does not
come back up to this position before the next spank, that one does not
count. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she answered and then immediately yelped as he once again
strongly slapped her ass.
  
"Yes, what?" he barked.

"Yes, master," she answered. "I understand."

"Then we begin," he said with a smile.

Missy could feel her body quivering as she awaited the first of her
punishment spanks. Master Hiroya seemed in no hurry to begin, however,
and several seconds passed before he suddenly struck her right ass
cheek just above where it merged into her thigh.

"One!" she screamed out.

He immediately struck again.

"Two!" she yelped.

"No," he replied. "You did not come back into position in time. That
one does not count."

He paused and then said simply, "Position!"

Missy raised her body off his lap. As soon as her weight was lifted
from his legs, his hand slammed down into her left ass check. This
time it was near the top, almost at her back.

"Two!" she yelled.

Hiroya Takahashi was not called, "Master," for no reason. He was a
very skilled spanker, a virtuoso of pain. No two slaps landed in the
same place, and soon there was no place on her ass that was not red
and swollen. After a dozen smacks, missy was crying uncontrollably.

"Tw... tw... twelve," she choked out between sobs.

"Control yourself," he ordered in his raspy voice. "Remember, if you
lose count, we start again at the beginning."

He then struck again. This time his hand landed across both cheeks of
her ass.

"Thirteen," she cried out, but her body would not return to the proper
position above the Master's lap.

He paused, looking at her struggle. "I will take pity on you because
you are not yet a trained slave," he said. "I will help you maintain
position."

He slid his left hand under her hips and lifted up. "Position!" he
commanded, and she tensed her muscles to raise herself up from his
lap. Without his help, she could not have done it, but with him
helping lift her, she returned to the desired position.

The next strike, however, told her that Master Hiroya's help was a
mixed blessing. His hand held her in position, but it also meant that
her body could not move with the slap. An increased level of pain shot
through her ass and she screamed out, "Fourteen!"

Since she was held in position, the smacks started coming faster and
faster.

"Fifteen!"

"Sixteen!"

"Seventeen!"

"Eighteen!"

"Nineteen!"

"Twenty!"

At twenty, Master Hiroya paused for several moments. He shifted his
hand slightly under missy and she gasped as his fingers touched her
slit. "Wet," he said softly. "Perhaps we should begin training you in
a different way."

He then carefully positioned his hand so that the edge of his palm was
directly over her clit, while his fingers wiggled over her pussy lips.
Missy was distracted by his hand movements and was taken totally by
surprise by swat twenty-one.

"Aiiieee," she screamed, and then quickly added, "Twenty-one!"

The Master's swats now fell into a rhythm. Each swat was eight to ten
seconds apart. And following each swat, missy yelled out the number.

Somewhere around swat thirty-five, however, missy noticed that
something was changing. Master Hiroya was still smacking her at the
same strength and at the same pace, but now she was feeling more
sensations from his left hand than she was from his right.

The smacks still hurt. She still screamed out each number. But each
swat also drove her firmly down onto the hand which was supporting
her. And that hand was positioned so that most of that force was
centered on her clit.

"I'm getting turned on!" she suddenly thought to herself. "I'm getting
turned on by a spanking!"

In the back of her mind, she could hear William's advice that she not
think about what was happening, but instead think about her fantasies.
Getting her ass turned purple was not really one of her fantasies, but
many of her fantasies involved being dominated by a Master or
Mistress.

In her mind, she was watching herself on stage. She could see her
flailing legs and reddened ass. She could hear her screams of pain and
her struggle to keep up with each number.

The sight of herself was now a part of her fantasies. The pain did not
diminish, but the pleasure began to build until it was starting to
surpass the pain. She could feel herself climbing toward an orgasm.
She was almost there when she heard herself cry out, "Forty-six," and
everything stopped.

Master Hiroya pulled his hand out from beneath her and her body
dropped immediately onto his lap where she lay squirming and crying.
The people in the audience clapped and applauded, thinking that she
was writhing in pain, but it was not pain that was overwhelming her.
It was need.

"Nooooo!" she cried. "I am so close. Please finish me! Please, please,
please."

Hiroya patted her lightly on her red and swollen ass and said softly,
"Someday you will make an excellent slave." He then laughed softly and
said, "I would do what you desire, but today is a day of punishment.
So, I will leave you in your need."

Missy barely felt William's hands which gripped her own and pulled her
to her feet. He guided her back to the cage and she stepped inside.
When he held up the shackles and chains, she knew the routine and
pressed her back against the bars. Once the collar was in place, she
brought her wrists close to the bars so the manacles could be
attached, and then finally she lifted her feet so that the shackles
could be put in place.

As the cage again rose into the air, she leaned back against the bars
and wept. She kept her hands stiffly to her side, not as a sign of
submission, but rather because she knew that if she allowed her hands
to wander to her front, she would be unable to keep herself from
rubbing herself to climax.

The cage turned slowly on its chain and the crowd, which was slowly
filing out of the arena, had a clear view of her well-spanked behind
as well as her glistening pussy. Slave missy hoped that no one saw the
wetness of her thighs, but several gasps, pointed fingers, and loud
laughter told her that everyone noticed.

When there was no one left excepts the bailiffs and the road crew, the
special trailer was pulled up onto the stage and her cage was once
again lowered and fixed in place. Missy looked around to see where the
police cars were which would escort her back to the jail, but instead
William, himself, got on the ATV and drove it off the stage.

He continued across the infield of the race track to a back entryway
that faced out onto the small camping area that was used during the
fair. Missy knew where he was going- or at least she had a pretty good
guess. There was a large bus with a large trailer behind it parked at
the very back of the camp area.

She was pretty sure that was where they were going because displayed
along the side of the bus was a greater than life-sized image of her
being pulled through the streets behind the horse-drawn caisson. In
big letters across the side of the bus near the roof line it said,
"slave missy's Punishment Tour." In slightly smaller letters beneath
that it read, "Witness the punishment of a repentant terrorist."

Mr. Wilson stopped and pointed a remote at the rear of the trailer.
The entire back of the trailer slowly folded down, forming a ramp.
Once inside the trailer, he again pressed the remote and the ramp
lifted up to form the back of the trailer. Several dim lights
illuminated the interior.

"Technically," he began, "as of the end of your day of repentance, you
were no longer a prisoner." He looked at her through the bars. "You
are a slave," he said. "My slave. So I am now responsible for your
confinement."

He unlocked the padlock on the cage. "For some reason, however," he
said with a big smile, "the paperwork was slightly delayed so I
couldn't take possession until today." His smile broadened as he said,
"That meant you had to be kept at the jail overnight and then brought
out here by the guards and bailiffs." He was almost laughing as he
said, "That parade through the streets probably ensured sell-out
crowds for the duration of our run here."

He gave his head a quick shake indicating that missy should step out
of the cage. Spinning his finger in the air, he signaled her to turn
around so he could remove the collar. Turning her back around to face
him, he removed the manacles and shackles.

"Let me show you where you are going to spend the next year of your
life," he said as he opened a side door on the trailer. Another remote
opened the door to the bus and he motioned her to enter.

Inside, the bus looked very much like a narrow hotel room. There was a
small kitchen and living room area and a small but efficient bathroom
with a shower. Opening a door about half-way down the narrow hallway,
he said, "This is my bedroom." Then opening the door at the end of the
hallway, he said, "This is your cage."

Slave missy stepped through the door. It was a fairly nice bedroom
except for the fact there were bars on the windows. The bed took up
most of the room, but was larger than the one in William's room.

"You can get to the bathroom," he said, "but there is a barrier door
before you get into the kitchen."

Looking back down the hallway, missy could see that there was a door
with several iron bars which could be pulled closed across the
hallway. It looked a lot like the door to her jail cell.

"I'll fix us something to eat in a little while," he said quietly. "In
the meantime you can use the bathroom and shower." He coughed lightly
and looked slightly embarrassed. His eyes were obviously looking at
her glistening pussy. "If there is anything you need to take care of
before showering, just pull your door closed. You can't lock it, but
you can close it."

Slave missy knew what he meant and blushed furiously. Her ass wasn't
the only thing that was burning. There was a fire in her cunt like she
had never felt before. She murmured a soft, "Thank you," and went into
her bedroom. A few minutes later, William could hear muffled moaning
coming from behind the closed door. Shortly after that, he heard the
shower running.

When missy finally came out into the kitchen she could smell their
supper staying warm in a pan on the stove. William was sitting at the
small table. As she approached he said, "Let's see what the damage
is."

Missy looked confused, so he held his finger in the air and moved it
in a small circle indicating that she should turn around. "There's no
breaking of the skin," he said as he ran his hand lightly across her
ass, "but you are starting to turn purple."

Missy could hear him rummaging around for something on a shelf
alongside him, then suddenly something cold touched her ass. "This
ointment will take away the pain almost immediately," he said, "and
the bruising should fade overnight."

He began to gently rub the salve into her swollen ass cheeks. She
gasped softly as his hand slipped slightly between her cheeks and
moaned softly again as it moved down to the tops of her thighs.

"I put a towel over the bench on your side of the table," he said when
he was finished. "You sit while I wash my hands and get us supper."

The meal was some sort of box dinner with hamburger in it. It wasn't
her favorite, but it was much better than the jail food. And she even
had silverware so she didn't have to scoop it up with her hands.

After the meal, William did the dishes. After he was finished, he sat
down on a small couch to watch TV. Patting the cushion next to him, he
said, "Bring your towel." and invited her to join him. He even let her
select what program she would like to watch. At ten, he said, "We both
have a long day tomorrow," and shut off the TV. As missy walked into
her bedroom, she could hear the metallic clank of the iron door being
closed in the hallway.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = 
END CHAPTER 3  OF THIRTEEN

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Chapter Summaries

Chapter One: Vicki LeClaire is convicted of all charges. A sentencing
agreement is negotiated by William Wilson, a professional slave
sentence negotiator. This chapter primarily sets the scene for the
rest of the book. Once that is done, the action near the end centers
around public nudity and public humiliation.

Chapter Two: Vicki's "Day of Repentance" and her humiliating descent
into slavery, including being renamed as slave missy. This chapter
centers primarily on public nudity and public humiliation.

Chapter Three: The first of missy's 11 days of public punishment. On
this first day of punishment, Master Hiroya Takahashi demonstrates
properly-trained pony girls, and instructs missy on the proper way to
receive a punishment spanking. The focus of this chapter is pony girls
and public spanking.

Chapter Four: The second day of punishment begins with a flogging
contest by a company called Judicial Placements Incorporated. Her
negotiator... and new Master, William Wilson, flogs missy the required
forty-six times to fulfill the terms of her sentence. This chapter is
totally focused on non-consensual flogging.

Chapter Five: Slave missy's third day of punishment. She is once again
subject to a spanking, this time by the head of a private girls'
reformatory. Before her spanking, several of the young women from the
reformatory also receive public punishment. This is a spanking chapter
with bare hand, slipper, paddle, and leather belt.

Chapter Six: The fourth day. On this day of punishment, she is
caned... by a robot, or more accurately, by a computer-driven
mechanical spanking machine. Before her caning, James Madison
demonstrates his company's machines. This chapter focuses on
mechanical flogging, paddling, and caning. It also delves into
self-bondage and pain-pleasure.

Chapter Seven: The fifth day. Slave missy is punished by water
combined with heat, cold, and electricity. This chapter focuses on
various types of water punishment.

Chapter Eight: On the sixth day of her punishment, missy is introduced
to "The Whipmaster." Before punishing her he provides a demonstration
of his abilities. The chapter is focused on public nudity, public
humiliation, and public flogging of one sort or another.

Chapter Nine: The seventh day for slave missy is a day for
electro-punishment. Slave missy becomes part of the vidshow, "Wheel of
Pleasure, Wheel of Pain."

Chapter Ten: The eighth day introduces a unique punishment- punishment
by combat. There is also an undercard of slave wrestling with
humiliation and pain in store for the loser.

Chapter Eleven: The ninth day of punishment is a lottery. The public
is given the chance to paddle the repentant terrorist. Eight lucky
winners each get to give her five swats with a special paddle. One
lucky winner gets to finish the forty-six required for her punishment
by laying six swats of the paddle across missy's ass. The undercard is
also part of the lottery. Three slaves in need of punishment will each
receive 20 swats, again with one lottery winner delivering 5 of those
swats. In addition there are two volunteers. One is a male member of
the stage crew who is coming out as a pain slut. The other is a woman
who has been at every performance so far and wants to experience
public punishment and humiliation. Hers is a special case and her
husband will deliver however many swats it takes to make her cum.
Twenty-five winners were chosen to participate. Each was asked to
write a short essay saying why they should be the one to deliver the
final six to the repentant terrorist. The winner finishes off missy.

Chapter Twelve: This tenth day returns missy to old school punishment
as she receives an old-fashioned caning. There is also a contest
between slaves to see who can withstand the most strokes of the cane.

Chapter Thirteen: (Last Chapter) Slave missy finally reaches her final
day of punishment. After having been punished by hand, slipper,
paddle, cane, water, and electricity, missy is punished with pleasure.
She is strapped into a high-tech denial/teasing/edging device and
taken to the very brink of orgasm 46 times.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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