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From: np98rb@mail.telepac.pt (Christine & David Stevenson)
Subject: Under Control part twenty-eight of twenty eight
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Under Control - part twenty-eight of twenty eight
by mailto: VictorBruno@mschristine.com
this story remains copyright Victor Bruno, release to publish
granted to Christine Stevenson.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
His legs were like rubber when they took him off the block and he
could not stand properly. Two of the overseers had to hold him up
. . . and then he was half dragged and carried from the
Punishment Room. Chained back in his cell, crushed between other
naked slaves, surrounded in fact by helpless female flesh, he
sobbed himself to sleep. He realised that even his once-fierce
desire for that female flesh was fast fading. But perhaps that
was a blessing in disguise!
* * *
Paul continued to work on the new slave encampment for a further
fortnight . . . and continued to receive his fair share of
punishment. If not more than his fair share. However, he was
fortunate enough to escape a return visit to the dreaded
Punishment Room.
By the end of that fortnight, the camp was completed and Gloria
van Meer came to inspect it. Paul felt himself quivering at the
very sight of this magnificent woman . . . the woman who owned
him body and soul . . . and who had brought him to this pass.
Linked by chains about the neck the naked slaves stood in a line
while Gloria passed along in front of them, on a kind of tour of
inspection. All the same, she didn't actually deign to look at
the slaves who had toiled themselves into the ground on her
behalf. Paul's heart beat faster as she approached his position.
She surely would look at him. He was her slave, after all!
But Gloria passed him by in icy indifference, as she did all the
rest. The gall was biting in Paul's throat. Tears actually came
to his eyes. He had become just part of a mass of slaves. No
longer was he hers.
It was, perhaps, the unkindest cut of all!
* * * * * *
ENVOI
Paul didn't mind being Pauline any more.
He'd got used to it.
Of course, one had to accept the fact that the repeated hormone
injections made all the difference. Every day a bit more of the
female was pumped into him, gradually overwhelming his previous
masculinity. Before long, it was not necessary to apply
depilatory creams to him any more; for the long term effect had
destroyed his hair growth. His flesh took on the smoothness of
that of a woman. His curves increased, his breasts developed.
One day, holding them gently in his palms, he felt almost proud
of them.
Truly, I am now Pauline rather than Paul, he reflected. And does
it matter all that much? So long as I can serve my divine
Mistress Gloria?
How good and kind she is to me now . . .
So long as I serve her absolutely, of course!
Truly there is nothing I would not do for her . . .
And she knows it!
Admittedly, she punishes me from time to time . . .
But then, I know I deserve it!
What a servile joy it was to lie between his Mistress's smooth
thighs and please her with his mouth and tongue, as she wished!
It was at such moments that his Mistress became goddess and he
was ecstatically happy to worship.
What a remarkable lesbian-type relationship had developed between
them!
I AM HER SLAVE . . .
FOR EVER AND EVER . . .
Paul told himself that every day that he awoke. The idea of that
sent a throbbing-thrill of pleasure through his being. It was a
quivering of pure masochistic joy. He had now come to know the
submissive pleasure, the pure escape from self, that comes from
being devoted to a woman.
I BELONG TO HER . . .
All the same, every day, Paul knew a hard day lay ahead of him
from the moment of rising at six A.M., he had to devote himself
to his Mistress Gloria utterly. Perfection of service was
expected . . . and punished if not received. Paul accepted this.
He not only had no alternative but now positively thought it
'just'.
A true slave must never query the decisions of an all-powerful
Mistress. If he failed her, he should be punished. For she was
perfect and in this way she helped him to strive for perfection.
OH KIND MISTRESS . . . DON'T LET ME FAIL YOU!
Sometimes Paul felt vaguely sorry for the brute male hulks who
were being tamed and trained to his Mistress's will. They had so
far to go before they even approached his degree of servitude.
Yet, approach it they would - each and every one of them - he
felt sure; even though the Training Camp, which he had helped to
build, had only properly been running for some four months.
It was by no means unusual for Paul to have to parade before some
naked, sweating, weal-striped male creature . . . mincing along
in high heels, knickers and bra., hearing his Mistress's words.
"This is Pauline . . . look at her . . . once she was a man . . .
now she is my utterly devoted slave . . . look . . . look, you
bastard . . ."
The whip cracks . . .
The male howls in gasping agony . . .
"This is what you will become . . . one day . . . yes . . . oh
yes . . . even though you don't believe it now!"
"NO . . . . N-NEVER . . . YOU KINKY BITCH!"
Pauline sees her Mistress's sadistic smile. He knows she likes a
challenge.
Methodically, remorselessly, she begins to whip the naked
sweating brute who is held securely in chains.
Pauline stands with hand on hip, just watching. Soft and smooth.
Curvaceous.
"You'll pay for those words, swine!"
CRAAA . . . AAACCCKKK!
CRAAA . . . ACCCKKKKK!
CRAAA . . . ACCCKKKKKK!
CRAAA . . . AACCCKKKK!
What a stupid fellow, to resist his Mistress! Oh dear, oh dear,
how long will it take him to learn?
"Yyyyyaaaaagghh . . . . mercy . . . mercy . . . no more . . . no
. . . more . . . . aaaaaaaaagghhhhh . . . . . . yyyyeeeee . . . .
aaaaaaggggghhh . . . .!"
CRRAAA . . . AAACCCCKKKKKK!
CCCRRRRAAAAA . . . AAAAACCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!
CCCRRRRAAAAAAA . . . AAAAACCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!
CCCCRRRRRAAAAAAA . . . . AAAACCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKK!
Pauline realises all too well that his Mistress is increasing the
pace and power of the whipping. How long will this powerful young
hunk of male flesh be able to hold out, he wonders? Already he is
a mass of ugly welts . . . and his Mistress Gloria only seems to
be just getting into her stride.
"MERCEEEEE . . . MERCEEE . . . AAAAAHHHHH . . . . NOOOOOO . . . .
OOOOOOOO!"
The whipping continues.
Pauline looks on in quiet resignation. When will this stubborn
brute begin to realise the supreme power and superiority of
Mistress Gloria?
The sooner the better, surely?
Stupid oaf . . . he deserves all he is getting!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
For details of other Victor Bruno Books please contact
VictorBruno@MsChristine.com
http://www.mschristine.com/bruno.html
Also published as text simultaneously on......
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