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Training a slave

(Part 3 from 3)
Walking behind her, with the whip tucked under my arm, I released the sharp blade from my penknife and slid it carefully through the shoulder straps of her bra. Unclipping the clasp, I allowed the lacy material to slide gracefully to the floor, stark against the harsh gray concrete floor.
I repeated the operation across the hips of her panties, and walked back round to the front of my slave to survey my property.
She was even prettier naked than I could have imagined.
Her head was bowed as instructed, and she panted slightly with the exertion of keeping the weight off her wrists, her light brown hair falling in waves across her pert firm exposed breasts.
The cold had puckered her small pink nipples into hard beads, and as I watched they rose and fell with her labored breathing.
Her tanned flat smooth midriff splayed out to wide sensuous hips, at the center of which lay the prize. The epicenter of her sexuality, and the part of her body that she had fiercely protected, until now.
She had shaved thoroughly prior to her arrival, and her partially spread limbs revealed the lips of her sex, glistening slightly with wet expectancy. She squirmed slightly under my gaze, mortified at her blatant arousal under these conditions
To her horror, I pushed the thin, blunt end of the whip handle between her lips, parting them yet further, revealing her small, protruding clitoris, red and engorged, begging for further stimulation.

Having inspected my slave, and finding everything as I had hoped, I dragged my focus back to the matter in hand, her punishment for earlier transgressions.
"Have you ever been hit with one of these?" I asked, allowing the stiff leather thongs to fall across her quivering buttocks."
She shook her head
"Shame, it may have given you an idea of what to expect. Still, no matter, you'll soon learn.
It was then that I was pleased I had checked the amount of sound that filtered up from my cellar, for as I delivered the first stroke; she let out a scream of such intensity that it hurt my ears
"Please no!!!, I didn't realize!!! Not again!!!..."
"Have some dignity!" I reproached as I delivered another sting blow, harder this time.
This time she wasn't able to scream, as she had used all her breath on the first one. Instead she opened her mouth noiselessly, her eyes wide with pain at the shock of the onslaught.
Sensing my advantage I let another loose, aiming more carefully, directing the fronds to the underside of her buttocks, where they cruelly wrapped around her inner thigh, a few of the longer ones actually coming into contact with her sensitive labia.
She had begun to groan, the pain in her wrist forgotten she slumped forward in her bonds
"Stop... I bast..." I cut her short with a sting blow, this time tracing a line of fire directly across the center of her buttocks. The chains rattled as she desperately tried to break free.
"Do you think that perhaps now you will learn to obey me?" I inquired, gently feeling the raised welt I had just created across her backside.
"Let me down.. It's too painful. I don't want...!" she gasped between breaths
Again I cut her off mid sentence
"Wrong Answer!"
Now I began to lay into her tortured buttocks in earnest, ignoring her screams and the rivulets of tears that were now coursing freely down her cheeks.
To add variety, I directed a couple of particularly punishing blows to her breasts, the second strike landing squarely across her right nipple.
Upon this stroke her head jerked back and her eyes opened wide. If the pain of being whipped across the buttocks had been unimaginably painful, this was ten times worse. For a few seconds she actually stopped breathing all together, struggling violently against her cuffs all the time, desperate to apply her soothing touch to the angry read weal's that I had just created across her milky breasts and buttocks.
Sensing that I had made my point, I asked again
"Are you prepared to obey me now?"
At that moment she looked me directly in he eye, all her emotions tangled, tears wetting her cheeks and chest, fighting for breath. still suffering under the waves of pain emanating from her bruised flesh.
She had no option. She nodded reluctantly, willing to undergo any humiliation I deigned necessary, if it meant avoiding another earth shattering stroke from the cruel whip.
"Pardon, slave?" I questioned, wanting to hear her say it
"Yes sir," she sobbed
"Do you feel you have learned a lesson from your punishment?"
"Yes sir"
Cautiously, I unchained her hands from the ceiling, waiting for her to strike like trapped animal. I needn't have worried, her hands hung limply by her sides, longing to massage life back into her chaffed wrists, but frightened of incurring further punishment for doing so.
I pushed the handle of he whip under her chin and lifted her face to meet my gaze.
"Every time you disobey me I will beat you like that. I will beat you with the utmost severity for the slightest indiscretion is that understood?"
"Yes Sir" Despite all my warnings, she had not anticipated the severity of her experience and the pain of the lash had been all too real. I detected that there was a new note of respect in her voice.
"Now you may thank me for your lesson" I commanded," Would you like that?

"Yes sir" more enthusiastically now, her previous feelings of shame lost in her eagerness to please me in any way possible and prevent a repeat of the incredible pain she had just endured.
Pushing her head back down with the crop, and applying light pressure to her shoulder, she sank to her knees on the cold stone floor, quickly guessing the form that her thanks would take.
With shaking hands she unzipped my fly, tentatively pulling my semi-erect member from my trousers. With an almost imperceptible pause, during which a thousand thoughts must have flown through her mind she reluctantly
Opened her mouth and gently lowered her lips around my shaft, gently moving her head back and forth.
I was already in a state of considerable arousal and within the space of a few minutes my balls began to spasm and I felt the blessed relief of my seed emptying into her mouth.
With the facial expression of someone who has just bitten into a lemon, she withdrew from my satiated cock and wiped her hand across her semen-covered lips, forcing herself to swallow as she did so. It was then that remembered. She had told me during one drunken evening that she had NEVER given oral sex, and had no intentions of ever doing so as she found the thought of taking a mans member in her mouth repulsive in the extreme.
I smiled at the recollections she knelt quivering at my feet awaiting instruction, a stray globule of semen glistening on her chin as she replaced my now flaccid member back in my trousers.
"Thank you Master" she whispered, almost inaudibly. She was beginning to learn.
I un-cuffed her ankles and gently lifted her to her feet. Escorting her to the open door of her cell I led her inside.
"Perhaps we will do better tomorrow" I said, not unkindly, and gently stroked her cheek with the back of my hand. The sudden show of affection, contrasting with the violence of the previous whipping sent her into fits of sobs yet again.
"There, there" I comforted.
"I told you what to expect, didn't I?" She nodded dumbly, her eyes downcast.

Locking the door to her tiny cell securely I made my way up to my living room, before pouring myself a large congratulatory brandy and flopping on my sofa to watch some TV.
Then I remembered my camera.
Flicking to the appropriate channel, the black and white image of the prison came into view. Debbie lay on the cold unyielding floor of her cage in the foetal position, her legs tucked up against her chest to try and conserve what little warmth she could.
Between the tops of the backs of her thighs I could just make out her protruding sex, and even as I watched, her hands stole between her legs, cupping her sex, and began to gently massage her swollen, tender lips.
I smiled, transfixed. I had read that a severe whipping would invariably lead to intense, undeniable arousal as the pain of the weals began to fade and give way to a warm glow, and sipping my cognac from the warmth of my sofa, I was seeing the proof. I pressed the red record button on my VCR.
After only a few minutes, her hips began to buck, scraping her thigh against the rough concrete and her legs opened despite the chill to allow her hand better access.
It was the only stimulus she needed, and as her finger slid effortlessly into her swollen vagina, her face contorted, her pelvis spasmed as she orgasmed. Not the pleasant, warm cozy orgasms she had in the bath at home, as she gently soaped herself, but a powerful, gut wrenching surge of pleasure that lifted her lower body off the floor involuntarily and caused her to let out a long low guttural moan. For almost two minutes she writhed in this position, the glowing pain of the fresh stripes across her body contrasting with her venerable caged position and the urgent pulsing of her sex.
Finally the last wave of pleasure subsided and she returned to her previous position, curling up into a tight ball, oblivious to the fact that her entire performance was being observed and recorded upstairs.
I smiled, despite the interesting display; tomorrow she would have to learn that she was only permitted to orgasm under supervision.
I made my way up to my bed, lying warm and comfortable under the thick luxurious duvet, contemplating the next part of my curriculum.

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