The story so far:
Rita’s Choice: Jan 2006
Rita’s Choice: chapter 2 Jan 2006
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It was mid-afternoon by the time Shadow finished all the items he had set out to accomplish, but for one final stop. He pulled up in front of Spellbook Slaves. As soon as he walked in, Ingrid looked up. Her face lit up in a smile. "Hi Sir Shadow, nice to see you, this is a surprise."
"Hi, Ingrid."
"Did you give The Bitch twenty strokes for me?"
"Yes I did, Ingrid, and more for me."
"Oh, thank you. Then give her another twenty for me when you get back, please?"
"I suppose I could, but that won't be for a while yet, and seeing how good you look, and since you are right here….." He let his sentence trail off, letting her finish the thought in her mind. She knew if he asked Mike, Mike would have no compunctions about letting Shadow give her a short whipping. She rapidly tried to distract him by saying, "Would you like me to suck your cock? May I give you a blow-job?" She started to rise and to remove the slave smock she wore, but Shadow waved her off, indicating it wasn't what he wanted. "Actually, I would like to see Mike for a few minutes, if he is in."
More relieved than she cared to admit, she said, "I'll tell him you're here." A few seconds later she came back and said, "Go right in."
The two men shook hands, then Mike asked, "Are you still driving that piece-of-shit-Ferrari?" Mike knew it was very new.
Shadow shrugged, then answered, "You know, since I gave up smoking it takes forever to fill up the ashtrays, and I haven't found another reason to get rid of it."
Mike smiled at the joke, then asked, "What can I do for you? It has something to do with Rita, I assume."
Shadow explained. "Yeah, I am hoping you have a few testers I can borrow. Ones Rita doesn't know."
"Are you getting too old to get it up?" Mike jibbed.
Shadow ignored the slight, and continued. "What I want to do is this. I want one to call me each day, a different one each time. They should call in the morning. I will tell Rita she is being rented to a customer for an afternoon job. I want them to come to my apartment to pick her up, at which time, I will give them "instructions" and explain why they are getting a deal." Mike interrupted, "This charade is all for Rita's ears, I assume."
"Yes", Shadow confirmed. "I will tell them that she is a new slave, in training, and as part of the low fee, they have to fill out a report and return it with her when they bring her back to me. Lets say we do that for six days, starting tomorrow."
"Thats easy…is there anything else you need?"
"Just this. I can't say it in front of Rita, so I also want you to tell them to go easy on the rough stuff. They should act like guys just renting a piece of ass for the afternoon, nothing more. They aren't supposed to be the type to beat a good fuck out of her. They are the type to complain about it, if they do anything."
"Ok, six testers Rita doesn't know, thats easy. I'll have Ingrid set it up. Do you want them to actually fill out reports?"
"Yes, that's part of it, but not the formal ones, Rita might recognize them. They should write something up on their own. It doesn't have to be fancy, but I want to see how she is reacting to the things I am doing."
"Do you have any preference how they use her?"
"Ideally they should use her in every hole, I suppose, but it might look suspicious if they all did that. Tell them to use her as many times as they can and to try to mix it up, but to make it look like they are just horny dudes who have a good looking cunt for a few hours and want to make the most of it."
"This is kind of unusual for you. Its unusual for any trainer for that matter, are you having a problem with her?"
"No. At least I don't think so. But I don't want to break her spirit by simply beating her into submission, I want her to intellectually and emotionally accept that she is a slave, yet to retain enough enthusiasm and self-respect that she puts her heart into her work."
Mike looked at Shadow as though he just said he was going to run for President with Rita as Vice-President. "You're kidding me, right?"
"Nope. She really is a first-class fuck if she wants to be, I found that out. I am trying a different approach hoping to keep her that way when she is rented out. I think she will actually be a better piece of ass if she wants to be a good piece, rather than if she is pretending to be a good piece."
"Well, good luck to you, I hope you succeed." With that, Mike rose and extended his hand to Shadow. "Nice seeing you again."
As Shadow was riding up to his floor in the apartment building elevator, he started thinking about what he would do once he was back in the apartment. I should begin by whipping her without saying anything. But she drank all that coffee for breakfast and I didn't let her pee before I strung her up. She's gotta be dying by now if she's managed to hold it for this long. She'll pee all over the carpet if I just start whipping her. Shit. I really don't feel like having the carpet shampooed, but its either that of I let her down to pee first. Damn, I should have thought of this sooner. But, too late now. Alright, pee first, I really don't want to put up with the stench.
Shadow saw the look of desperation in her eyes the moment he walked into the room. He went to her immediately and began releasing her. As he was doing it he said, "You may go pee as soon as you are free." The instant she was able to leave, she headed for the bathroom in a dead run. When she returned a few minutes later she approached him hesitantly, being unsure what was expected of her. Shadow noticed that she hadn't removed the ball gag from her mouth. That's a good sign. She isn't assuming I intended to remove it and she is waiting for permission to do anything about it. Sorry Bitch, you keep wearing it for now.
He looked at her as she stood with her hands held crossed in front of her pussy. Hmmmm. Very poor posture and bad form covering her pussy like that. But I don't need to deal with that just yet, if everything else works out, that will be easy enough to correct. She held eye contact with him for almost a full 30 seconds before she realized that was probably not the right thing to do. She lowered her eyes. When she did, Shadow asked, "Did you miss me, slave?"
Slightly annoyed by his use of the use of the word 'slave', Rita looked at him again then slowly nodded her head. Shadow laughed. "Liar. If you didn't have to pee, you would have been very happy if I hadn't come back at all. For a few more hours, anyway. Thats ok, I don't expect you to. But at least you tried. You gave the answer you thought I wanted to hear. Although, I will tell you that I missed you. As you have probably surmised, I am a hetero thru-and-thru. That means I like women. As it happens, I have a very strong bias toward hot women. So strong, you might as well say it's exclusive. But thats not a problem, you very successfully meet both those requirements. Finally, I have a deep and abiding bondage fetish. I truly love to see a woman in bondage….especially a hot woman. So knowing you were here in bondage, well, let's just say it weighed on my mind a lot. I wanted very much to come back to see you."
The bastard is going to put me back in some kind of bondage, I know he is. Well, fuck him! No, more like fuck me. Although, the fucking is actually pretty good, its the whippings that suck. Even the bondage isn't so bad. Boring, but not all that bad. Is he gonna fuck me now? As soon as she had that last thought she looked back at Shadow and found him staring at her. All of a sudden, it clicked in her head. She was pretty sure she was right, but just to be safe, she pointed at herself, half raised her arms in imitation of the position she had been in, then looked back and pointed to the spreader bars and the ceiling cable, then quickly pointed back at herself. Her sign language was attempting to ask if she was supposed to go back into the vertical spread-eagle. He nodded. Awww, shit! Does this mean whipping or fucking? Or both? Damn, I hope its fucking and no whipping.
Without showing any sign of her deeply felt resignation, Rita went directly to the armoire, lowered the cable then set it to automatically retract. The spreader bar for her legs forced them pretty widely apart which made her work at her balance as she bent over to pick up the one for her arms from the floor. Once in hand, it was a simple matter to connect it to the cable, then place the "D" rings at her wrists over the points of the hooks and pull gently. Had it taken an hour, the wait for the cable to retract would have still have been too short. When the cable began to exert a strong pressure upward on her arms, she dutifully stood on her toes.
Shadow ignored her. He pulled his laptop to him, fired it up and checked his email. He stared at one silently for a while with a slight frown on his face, then rose and went into the rear of the apartment. He went into the bedroom he used as an office. Rita heard drawers being opened and closed noisily. Oh great. Something pissed him off and I'm the lucky one who is hanging here naked, bound and waiting for him to whip if he wants to take his frustrations out that way. Shortly thereafter she heard his voice, but it was too faint and indistinct to make out any words. Evidently he was on the phone with somebody. He sounded mad. When he returned to the living room, he entered without saying a word to her. As he walked past her, he looked at her critically, assessing the tension of her leg and stomach muscles. He noted that she was on her toes and that she was sufficiently stretched out and tight. He continued past her going to the armoire, from which he removed a short, supple whip. She knew he had gone there, but of course didn't know what he had taken, if anything, because she was turned away from it. She half expected a stroke with the riding crop to land on her ass, or maybe even on her pussy, although she didn't understand why she would be getting a whipping, she had done nothing to deserve it. Still, when the first one hit her, it was a shock. The deep, stinging burn it caused burrowed into her stomach quickly where it just lay there and smoldered. The enormous scream she forced through her throat was powered by outrage that he had whipped her stomach as much as by the pain it caused. The gag successfully smothered all but a faint remnant of the scream.
He landed the first five of the session in a stripe across her stomach, each one no more than a quarter of an inch from the previous one. When he stepped in front of her, he could see she was panting heavily and tears were streaming down her face. He casually reached out to fondle a breast. He knew she would be expecting him to pinch her nipple painfully, so he didn't. He cupped the softness in his hand and allowed himself to become aroused. Even as he was enjoying the arousal coming from toying with her tit, one corner of his mind was toying with the question as to why, exactly, was a woman's breast so erotically charged for men? As he continued to play with her, he looked to see her watching his eyes closely. She was studying him.
Rita could not deny the fact that she loved it when he played with her. Just this gentle massaging of her breast was affecting her. Her body was responding, readying itself to receive his cock, while her mind replayed the pleasures of previous such incidents with Shadow, all of which made her yearn for a repeat performance right now. Despite her growing level of arousal, she recognized the perilous, even precarious, nature of her situation. He likes me. Clearly he is impressed with my body and overall looks, thats to be expected for a hetero male. But I think it goes deeper than that. I think he likes me. I know he was pleased with the sex last night. So was I, it was phenomenal! I have to be able to make use of that fact. Assuming I'm right, and he likes me for me and not just as a pretty piece of ass, how can I turn that to my advantage? Obviously I can't play the ration-the-sex game, he can have me whenever and however he wants me. Should I control my performance with him? Should I give him lackluster sex after he whips me and really outrageously good sex when he doesn't? He would sure notice, there in no doubt about that. Will the super-sex be enough to addict him to me and give me an element of control over my future and handling? This will require some serious planning, and soon! To make it work, I have to be consistent, starting now. We have last night as a benchmark of good sex following good treatment, so now since he has whipped me, I gotta be somewhere between poor and mediocre. But if I get it wrong; if I overplay my hand; if I misinterpret his liking for me…I get whipped. If I am assessing this whole situation all wrong, I could get a lot worse than just whipped. Shadow doesn't own me, so he would need Mike's permission to snuff me, but the fact that I am here, apparently for training, means Mike is going to listen to him. If I do nothing, I know what the future will be. But if I try and fail, there may be no future. (Sigh) Controlling men was so much easier as a free woman.
Shadow released her breast and lowered his hand to her pussy. The dampness was immediately evident. He rubbed her lips gently, barely penetrating her. He watched her close her eyes, enjoying the pleasure he was providing to her. Then he spoke softly to her. "I think I should tell you that what I do is not based on a dislike of you at all. I really do like you. But more, I enjoy what I do. I mean it, I really enjoy it. The fact that you are so beautiful adds immeasurably to my enjoyment of you, so you had better plan on my continuing it. You should also keep in mind the fact that the more I enjoy you, the more enjoyment you will receive too. I will make sure of that." As he was saying those words, he used his other hand to stroke her hair softly. He then reached around her head, capturing the entire mass of her mane, and swept it over her shoulder so it lay on her breast. He combed his fingers through it, brushing her nipple in the process.
His words startled her. Is he anticipating me? Or is he just trying to make me into a better slave? Probably that, but it does sound like he is holding out a carrot. Is this a hint of more nights of freedom? Dear god, I love the feeling of my hair on my breast, especially when he brushes my nipple with his finger.
When Shadow didn't elaborate any further, Rita allowed her concentration to wander and simply enjoyed the fact that his finger was being delightful. Without any explanation, Shadow returned to standing behind her as he continued arousing her. She almost didn't realize he had shifted positions when he ceased arousing her, and seconds later the next lash caught her squarely across her back. She lurched forward in a reflexive attempt to escape the pain. By the time she finished her first scream, he had crisscrossed her back with four more lashes. He didn't want to draw blood, nor did he want to send her into subspace, so he ended her whipping at that point. He wanted her fully conscious and aware for what was coming next. While still behind her, he removed his clothing, then moved to stand in front of her again. He was fully erect and lost no time burying himself in her very ready pussy. He began slowly, pumping her gently. Thankfully, as far as she was concerned, he didn't wrap his arms around her back, as he was wont to do. Instead, he grabbed her ass cheeks and pulled her to him in time with his slow rhythm. As his level of arousal increased, so did his pace, until finally, just before he came, he was pounding her as rapidly as he could thrust his hips. After he finished he remained inside her, allowing himself to rest in the pleasure from her soft warmth. But since he wasn't lying down, the pleasure faded rapidly and he withdrew from her and moved away from her, pacing as he usually did when speaking to her while she was in bondage. As he did so, he spoke to her with a very detached air, almost as though he was speaking to the wall. "You know, I might have been wrong. I told you that there was no pleasure equal to that of fucking a freshly whipped woman. Well, I think I am changing my mind. Last night was definitely equal to this one…perhaps even superior. Its sorta like comparing a Cabernet to a St. Emellion. They are distinctly different, but its difficult to say one is clearly superior to the other. However, the fact that you made absolutely no effort to please me just now also makes it more difficult to judge the true relative merits of each. Which, by the way, that is something I will not permit. You will do your utmost to please me every time I fuck you. More the point, you will try your best to please me in everything, not just fucking."
After he had withdrawn from her, he moved to where his clothes were piled on the floor. She heard him dressing himself as he spoke, so once again, he surprised her. Just as he finished saying the words, "…not just fucking," he brought the whip up between her legs. If being hit there with the riding crop was bad, this was horrible. Being thin and supple, the whip seemed to find twice as many nerve endings as the crop did, then stimulated them with much greater vigor. She jerked so hard when he hit her, she actually yanked herself off the floor. This scream was almost loud, even through the gag. The next two lashes were no softer, and her screams were even louder.
He waited a few minutes for her breathing to slow. When she had calmed a bit, he went back to her and began by unbuckling the gag from her mouth. Once the gag was removed, but while she was still spread-eagled, he leaned down to kiss her gently on her lips. He caressed her cheek with his finger. She looked at him through teary eyes. He said, very compassionately, "You will work to please me Rita. The punishments will only increase with continued failure on your part, and that will eventually ruin you. That would be a terrible loss."
As he was releasing her, she thought, I think I might need a plan B.
When he finished, he again completely surprised her by saying, "Go take a long warm bath if you wish. Or a hot shower, whatever you prefer. When you are done, you may put the robe on again. Then go into the kitchen and do something about preparing dinner. I am tired of cooking, that is now your responsibility as long as you are here."
After their dinner, which was only so-so because Rita wasn't really a very good cook, Shadow went into the living room. Rita knew without asking or being told that she was responsible for cleaning up, which she did. When she finished, she sat at the dining room table again, planning to stay there in the hope he would forget about her. He didn't.
A few minutes after she had obviously finished cleaning up Shadow realized she was avoiding him, so he called her into the living room. Before she could say anything, he told her, "Put the robe back in the closet, put the stockings, heels and garter belt back on and return here. You have two minutes." Without hesitatating, she bolted from the room and rushed to obey her master's orders. She made it with almost twenty seconds to spare.
Once back, Shadow ordered her to the armoire. "Get a pair of manacles for your ankles. Short chain…no longer than twelve inches. And, lets see…..the black single glove with the buckles on it, then come over here after you put the manacles on." Uh-oh, he didn't tell me to get a gag. Blow job coming up.
Walking with the manacles on wasn't particularly difficult, it was just annoying because of the very short steps she was required to take. When she neared his chair, she held the single glove out to him, then, when he took it, without being instructed to, she turned her back to him and held her arms together behind her back. He slid the glove up her arms. After the shoulder straps were in place, he began securing the buckles along the length of the glove. He was quite gentle, but forceful. When he was finished, her arms were pressed very tightly together from her wrists to her elbows. The pinning of her arms together thrust her breasts out very nicely. She squirmed slightly, seeking to ease the constriction, but was unsuccessful. The bondage was tight. When he was satisfied, he slapped her playfully on her rump, saying only the single word, "Done."
She took one step away from him, turned and dropped to her knees in front of him. When he resumed his seat, she knee-walked the short distance to him, placing herself between his legs. When he did nothing, she looked up at him expectantly. She found him looking at her. "Do you wish to give me a blow job, slave?"
"Isn't that what you want, Master? Ummm, I mean, I thought…..ahhh, I wish to please you Master." She lowered her eyes.
"Not right now, slave, definitely later, however."
"W…w…what do you want me to do, Master?"
"Do whatever you wish. Just don't leave this room." With that, he clicked the remote he had in his hand, and the stereo system began playing Gliere's Third Symphony.
She slowly got the her feet then inched away from him, heading toward the center of the room, clearly confused. Shadow watched her every move, enjoying the play of muscles in her legs and the gentle sway of her breasts. She will be a joy to watch dance. Not tonight, but eventually. I think I will have her dance slowly….sensuously. She turned back toward him only to see his eyes locked on her. Finally he relented and offered her an explanation. "I told you I liked to see hot women in bondage. I am enjoying watching you."
This was the first time she had any opportunity to wander through the room and look at anything in it. Curious as to what it might reveal about the man, and because there was nothing else for her to do, she buried her self-conscious feelings from being watched so intently as she wandered around the room looking at everything in it. The only intelligence she collected was that he was a serious music lover. But she had known that from the first ten seconds she had ever been in the room just because of the size of the speakers. I have never heard music sound so good before. Maybe there is some merit to this audiophile business. When she finished her inspection of the room, she decided she was permitted to sit. She sat and Shadow said nothing. The only mistake she made was in sitting for too long. He had no objections to watching her while seated, but she sat motionless and for too long. Had she risen every so often then reseated herself, he wouldn't have done a thing. He would have been delighted had she posed erotically while seated. She would learn that eventually, but not for some time to come. As it was, after it became too long, he rose and beckoned for her to join him. He was standing by the lowered cable. He clipped the ring at the fingertips end of the glove onto the hook of the cable. He went to the controls and raised the cable enough that she was pulled into a reasonably tight strappado, then he stopped the cable. He returned to his seat. She was in profile to him. He sat drinking in the image of her large breasts hanging down in front of her magnificent legs while he listened to the music. The occasional shifting of her weight from leg to leg was most enjoyable to watch.
When he finally tired of listening to music, he released her from the cable, but left the glove on her arms. He removed the manacles, then ordered her into his bed for the night. Once there, he reminded her that she had offered him a blow job.
By the time morning arrived and he finally released her from the single glove, her arms and shoulders were very stiff. Regardless, he ordered her into the kitchen, ordering coffee and cereal for breakfast. She was told to have it ready, but not to set it out before he arrived. She was to kneel by his chair, facing the door to await him, then rise and serve him immediately upon his arrival. She was to fill the cereal bowl until told to stop, then do the same with milk and sugar. When he finished eating, she was to clear the bowl and serve him coffee, no milk or sugar. The same procedure would be followed every morning, except she would not be told again when to stop. One instruction should be sufficient. She knew the whip would reinforce any lessons that needed repeating.
When he was on his second cup of coffee, Shadow asked if she was hungry. Thinking to second-guess his obvious move, she said no, wondering if that would be sufficient to dissuade him. It wasn't. He smiled, then politely said, "Thats too bad. You would have enjoyed your feeding more if you were. Still, I am in the mood for your services." With that, he gestured for her to begin sucking him. Before the blow job, Rita had been ready to kill for a cup of coffee. After it, she was ready to beg for one. She held her tongue.
When it was over, Shadow announced he was going to shower. He paused just as he was by the door, then turned to look at her as she remained kneeling by his chair. "Are you much of a a coffee drinker?" He clearly remembered she loved it the other morning.
"Yes, Master, I used to drink it regularly in the mornings. I….I have not been permitted to have much since I was enslaved."
"You may have some, if you wish, while I shower." He knew full well that the minute he was in the shower she could, and probably would have, had some surreptitiously. But allowing her to have it continued the carrot-and-stick method of indoctrination, and this was easier than chaining her in the bedroom to keep her away from it. Plus, now she could wash the pot along with his cup.
When he finished his own shower, Shadow told Rita to clean herself and prepare for the day. He gave her twenty minutes to get herself ready.
Shortly before ten, the phone rang. Shadow answered it without first disappearing into his office. She was basically unconcerned until she heard, "Yes, she will be ready when you arrive." When he put the phone down he turned to her and said, "I have arranged to continue your rental through Spellbook. You will be returned here when he is finished with you and we shall discuss your performance." That probably means I get whipped again, unless I perform like he wants me to. But then, how is he ever gonna know? Screw him, I can fake my way through this easily.
Since she was already nude, Shadow needed only to bind her to await her customer. He selected a belly chain for around her waist. Locking metal wrist cuffs were placed on her wrists, but not connected together. Next he added handcuffs just above her elbows, pulling her arms together behind her back. Then her wrist cuffs were padlocked to the waist chain. A two foot long chain connecting her ankle cuffs completed her ensemble for the moment.
Shadow answered the door when the bell rang. He brought the 'customer' into the living room where Rita was standing, awaiting his arrival. He said to the man, "This is Rita, your slave for the afternoon. Would you like her gagged?" The decision was 'yes', so Shadow added the ball gag harness to her bondage. He then got a metal collar from a drawer and fastened it on Rita's neck. After he did so, he asked the man to wait while he made a phone call. The call was to Spellbook. His side of the conversation was "Hi, Ingrid, its Shadow. You have the customers address, I assume? I just put the collar on Rita. Please activate it now, and set it for 7 this evening. Thank you Ingrid, I will." He hung up the phone, then turned to the customer. "You have rented fuck-toys from Spellbook before, haven't you?" The man confirmed he had. Shadow continued. "Then you are aware of the decapitation charge in her collar,and the fact that it restricts you to traveling with her only directly to your apartment and back to here, and that if you are late returning her, it will cost you your deposit." The man again confirmed his awareness. "Then there is only one final point we need to discuss. As you can see, Rita is a very attractive slut. Normally a slut with her looks would command a much higher price than the amount you are paying. The reason is, simply, she is not yet fully trained. Once she is, her price will rise commensurately. However, you are getting an even lower rate for her with the understanding that you will provide a written assessment of her performance when you return her this evening. It need not be elaborate. Do you have any questions?" He did not.
With that, Shadow secured a leash to Rita's collar and handed the free end to the man, saying, "Enjoy your sex-slave, sir." More than being made to walk naked in public, Rita hated being towed on a leash, particularly when she was in bondage.
The man was reasonably good-looking and fairly young, so to that extent it surprised Rita that he would resort to renting a slave for his sexual pleasure. He should be able to get any girl he wants, she mused. Once in his apartment, he wasted no time in mounting her. There was no foreplay, no effort to even arouse himself, just a quick and inexpert fucking. He was like that all afternoon. He used her more than she expected, but each use was clearly an inexperienced, amaturish, endeavor. Rita scorned him in her mind, silently ridiculing his performance, secure in the knowledge that her almost inert passivity in response to his fumbling would nonetheless earn her high praise in the assinine report he was supposed to provide. He would simply be overawed by having fucked a woman of her beauty, and that would be that.
When, at long last, it was over and she was once again walking into Shadow's apartment, Rita had no concerns or the slightest fear that everything was not wonderful. She was ignored, gagged and chained as she had been when she left, while the customer turned over his 'report'. When the customer was out the door, Shadow immediately had her collar deactivated, then removed it from her neck. He then freed her hands and removed the belly chain and ankle manacles. But then he took her back to the spot where the cable hung, apparently waiting for her return. Instead of a spreader bar, this time Shadow had uncovered the rings in the floor that had previously been hidden by the carpet. He attached each ankle cuff to one of the rings in the floor, spreading her legs rather widely in the process. He pulled both her wrists in front of her and connected them to the cable hook. He raised the cable until she was fully stretched out. Then he increased the force on the cable, adding tension. He did it a second time until she was pulled very tightly between the floor and the cable. She was in the classic Eiffel Tower position. Had her ankles not been securely fastened to the rings in the floor, her feet would have been dangling in midair. His next actions scared her more than anything else. He took the entire mass of her hair, twisted it into a fat ponytail, then tied it with a light rope. He attached the end of the rope to the cable and took the slack out of the rope and her hair. Her hair now rose vertically from her head. If he decided to whip her, not even her hair would offer any protection. Every inch of skin above the soles of her feet was exposed and vulnerable to his whip.
Only then did he sit down to read the report. As he opened the envelope containing it, Rita opened her eyes in horror. She had just now noticed the whip that lay coiled, on the table next to his chair. Coiled meant supple. Supple meant stinging. Supple meant wrapping itself tightly around her body for every inch of it that reached her. Coiled meant long. Long meant a lot of supple would be wrapping itself around her body. That meant excrutiating pain. She started to sweat in fear. As he read the report, her eyes locked on Shadow searching for a reaction, a sign that would tell her everything was fine. She prayed. Oh please don't read anythng bad. Come over here and give me a reward…fuck me as a reward. Forget about that whip. Don't look at it. Don't even look at it, look at me and come over here and fuck me.
At some point in her life, somebody must have said to Rita, 'Be careful what you wish for, because you might get it.' She got her wish. Or part of it at least. He never looked at the whip. He didn't have to, he knew precisely where it was. He looked up from the report to see her staring at him. The fear in her eyes was almost palpable. He held her eye contact as he rose from the chair, and as he did so, his right hand reached uneeringly to grasp the handle of the whip. He gripped only the handle, purposely allowing the coils of the whip to fall sinuoulsy from the table.
Rita was frantic with fear. Her mind screamed, Noooo, noooo, please noo. Please don't! I'll be good, I swear I will. Please don't use that on me. Nooooo. She tried to enunciate her plea, but all that came out was a muffled, "Oooooo".
When Shadow got to the spot he desired, he drew his arm back, then gently flicked the whip underhanded to straighten it out on the floor. As scared of it as she was, Rita still was unable to take her eyes off of it. She was mesmorized by its fluidity. It moved so smoothly and easily, it almost looked alive.
Oh, fuck, this is gonna hurt. I guess my idea wasn't so good. I need that Plan B, but more, I need a way to stop this. Awwwfuckfuckfuck I don't want this. If I wasn't strung up and stretched so tightly, I would be shaking I'm so scared. Look at that fucking thing! Its gonna slice me to ribbons. All because I didn't want to fuck that guy the way I should have. Ooooo, this is gonna hurt soooo bad.
Rita's fear went to the core of her being. A tiny trickle of urine escaped and started to wend its way down her leg. Shadow saw it. Good, she's scared, that's a very good sign. But I'll be dammed if I'm going to allow her to pee on the carpet, she has to learn better control than that. Shadow quickly went into the kitchen and returned with a couple of paper towels wadded up in his hand. He wiped her leg, then flushed the towels away. When he returned he stood very close to her and spoke almost in a whisper. "If you pee on the floor, I will pee in a bottle from now on, put it in the refrigerator and make you drink it when it gets cold. If I am feeling kind, I will let you drink directly from my cock in the mornings before I get out of bed." Rita clamped down on her muscles, determined to hold herself no matter what happened. She had little doubt he would do exactly as he said. There was no way she would endure the indignity of being made to drink his pee like that. She simply wouldn't allow it to become an issue.
Shadow retrieved the whip and resumed his position. When he picked it up and flexed it, he admired it once again. There were very few of these in the world and he was immensely proud to be one of the owners. He had heard it said that one could count the world-wide number of owners without having to take one's shoes off. Since he hadn't used this whip in quite a while, he began mentally reviewing the points he had been required to learn before he got it. Rita was right to be scared of this whip, although she didn't realize how right she was. This was a devastating instrument if used to it's full potential. And therein lay its real beauty. It could be 'adjusted' to provide quite an amazing range of intensity in the strokes, if the user knew how to do it. But that was the ultimate secret as to why there were so few owners of this particular whip.
These whips were hand made by Senor Miquel Escobar. Senor Escobar grew up in a small village in southern Mexico. During his early childhood, one of the few forms of entertainment available was provided by a local rancher who obtained and showed old movies to the village children. Very old movies, because they were cheaper to rent. Westerns were a popular favorite and in one shipment the rancher received a copy of every movie made by a little-known hero of the American west, Lash LaRue. Lash defeated the bad guys, got the girl and generally saved the day without ever using a trusty six-shooter. He used a whip. This caught the fancy of young Miquel, who vowed to be like Lash. Miquel found an old whip and started practicing. He practiced for hours, day after day. There was almost nothing else for a boy of his age to do, so he practiced.
By the time he reached his early teens, he was better than Lash ever dreamed of being and began to realize he had become limited by his equipment. He needed a better whip. He searched as widely as he could looking for one, but was unsuccessful in finding anything better. So he proceeded to create one. He experimented with various leathers, different methods of curing leather, different oils, different lengths, thicknesses, widths, patterns of weave…in short every aspect of building a whip was subject to his experimentation. By his mid-twenties, he had created "The Snake". In the world of whips, The Snake was the equivalent of the Trident ICBM in weaponry. As the Trident had its dial-a-yield warheads, so too The Snake had its range of pain selectable by the user. From one end of its pain spectrum to the other, it simply overmatched, by far, anything measured against it.
With his new whip, Miquel resumed his practicing and quickly attained a level of artistry that caught the eye of the owner of the traveling circus. Miquel was soon a featured act, showing off his ability with the whip. Once in the circus, he was seen by a Hollywood film crew shooting a movie in Mexico, and the rest, as they say, is history. Did you ever wonder who taught Michelle Phiffer how to use the whip in her role as Catwoman? He even built her own whip for her; a special lightweight version that was easier for her to handle. It had no real striking power, but hey, this was Hollywood.
Whips remained in the closet, so to speak, until the passage of WSA2000. Spured by that act, the demand for whips skyrocketed. Being handmade every step of the way, Miquel's whips were priced at the very top of the market. A few professionals found the cost acceptable and placed orders for one, but when the first such 'professional' demanded his money back because the whip "sliced the slaves up too quickly", Miquel decided he would sell no more, unless the prospective buyer agreed to take…and pass…the training Miquel required. The first few who were interested thought being trained by Miquel was a badge of honor. When they heard what the course entailed, very, very few went forward.
Miquel had perfected a variety of different strokes, each requiring, among other things, a subtle difference in the hand position and wrist action when the stroke is delivered. Quantum physics theory uses an acronym, "CDIC", pronounced c-dick. It stands for "critically dependent on initial conditions". In short, it means that the end result of a quantum process may be wildly different from another, identical process, based on tiny differences present at the onset of the process. That is a perfect description of The Snake in its use. As such, it wasn't easy to learn how to control it. That was bad enough, but Miquel ran into a stone wall when he tried to explain the different result obtained by the changes of hand position, etc. The students had no frame of reference to understand the concepts he was trying to convey. He decided it could be overcome in only two ways; years of study and practice under him, or; experience it first-hand. Thats when prospective buyers headed for the door.
Miquel made it an absolute requirement to purchase one of his Snakes. The purchaser had to stand and receive a demonstration of each stroke until he could identify each by its feel. Knowing the feel of a stroke from the receiving end, it was easier for the student to comprehend Miquel's instruction of less this and more that, to make the stroke equal to whatever was desired. Admittedly, the lashes were delivered with the softest intensity possible, but they were still whip lashes. Then, when the student was able to duplicate the stroke to Miquel's satisfaction, it was on to learning the next type of stroke. Only after passing all of the tests would Miquel bestow a Snake. In truth, he never sold a Snake. Students paid for the lessons, period. If a student passed all the tests and graduated, he received a Snake as a gift six months after graduation.
As a student worked at the exercises and practiced, Miquel studied the student. Periodically, Miquel would give the student a different Snake to use in order to observe the difference in results the student achieved as a result of the change. By the time the student was ready to graduate, Miquel knew the correct length, weight, and a dozen other factors to determine the best design for that student. Each Snake was hand-crafted to suit its owner. A Snake and its owner were very much a matched set. Miquel would begin construction of the graduate's Snake only after the tests were passed. It took him about six months to make each one. He limited his lessons to no more than two students at a time, thus ensuring each student would receive all the attention required, and to allow time to make Snakes for a recent graduate, if there were any. There were few graduates.
So as Shadow faced Rita, he gave careful consideration to not only where she would be struck, but how. The goal now was not to do damage or create scars, but to inflict significant pain as a punishment, in a meaningful way.
He decided to apprise Rita of specific areas of failing, as pointed out in the report, deliver the punishment for that failing, then move on to the next one. The plan was that by linking the failing to a specific application of pain, the message would be received more clearly.
"Your customer stated that you have magnificant breasts. He also stated considerable disappointment that you failed to use them in any discernible way to arouse him, or to enhance his pleasure with them. From a male's point of view, a breast is comprised of two general areas; the body of the breast and the nipple. Since this is the first remedial whipping session, you will receive only one lash in each area of your infractions. Therefore, each breast will receive two lashes. I won't bother isolating the nipple tonight." Not really that I won't bother, I don't dare. Its been too long since I practiced with this thing, I don't trust myself to do it as precisely as would be necessary.
Shadow's concern was well founded. The appropriate lash to deliver to isolate pain into a nipple is what Miquel called "The Bite". It required causing the very tip of the Snake to 'crack' on the nipple. To say the pain would be excruciating would understate matters considerably. To her, it would feel like her nipple had been torn apart. The problem was that to deliver it correctly required very precise placement in three dimensions and a large degree of finesse in the wrist action creating the cracking. A miss would be embarassing, but an incorrect hit could literally rip her nipple off. That was too great a gamble, especially since there was no camera recording this for The Torture Channel.
Facing her profile, Shadow positioned himself so that the first lash, an underhand, struck her breast close to the chest, then wrapped around the breast in a spiral, moving outward. After two minor foot adjustments, her other breast received the same.
As Shadow announced the punishment, Rita almost lost control of her bladder. My FIRST remedial whipping?? Four lashes on my breasts? That means a second whipping will probably be eight lashes. Twelve for a third? No fucking way….uh uh….no way Jose. I can't….I simply can't. I have to find a way out of this. AWWWWWW, JESUS, THAT HURTS!!! He's moving….my other tit next? AGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
Rita was panting heavily with tears streaming down her face. Her bondage position and the tension from the cable allowed her almost no movement whatsoever. But what little she had, she used vigorously, trying to escape or just to move and dance around, as we all do when we are in great pain. Shadow then moved to face her more head-on. He carefully judged his distance from her, then delivered the third lash. It was an overhand, downward-moving sweep. The tip did not crack, but landed on her chest, just above the curve of the breast. The whip laid down on her breast, then slid downward, creating a friction burn mere instants after the sting of the strike. If he hit precisely on target, the whip would lay in a line directly to her nipple, and the tip would snag slightly on the nipple as it went past. He hit one precisely on target.
Rita howled. She had never felt such intense pain. The pain was so great, she was sure her breasts were sliced in two and were gushing blood. But the pain was also so great she was unable to open her eyes, even if she wanted to confirm the extent of the damage. When she eventually did, she saw only a red line drawn on the top of each breast.
When Shadow saw her open her eyes, he waited for her to look at him. She glared at him with hatred in her eyes. Unperturbed, Shadow calmly apprised her about the next phase of her punishment. "Your customer also made an interesting comment. He said he thought all women had muscles in their pussy, and was surprised that this was not, in fact, true. At least he believes it isn't true in your case. Shame on you Rita. I know from personal knowledge that he is wrong. He said he fucked you in your pussy three times. I guess that means three strokes, doesn't it?"
Oh dear god, no. Not three shots with that whip. Please god, no. No. Anything, but please not that. Either God was not listening, or he agreed that disobedient slaves deserved what their master's meted out as punishment, because there was no miraculous intervention to prevent the strokes being delivered.
The first two were underhand, straight lashes. The whip laid itself along her flesh and stung deeply everywhere it touched. For the final stroke, Shadow added am upward flick of his wrist just before the whip struck. This induced a ripple in the whip, causing it to snap into her pussy, rather than just laying into it. Had he done it earlier in the swing, while the whip was further from her, it would have been a full-fledged cracking of the whip tip into her pussy, but that would have cut into her skin deeply. Shadow wasn't ready to inflict that amount of damage just yet.
The pain was unbelievable. Rita had been struck with many whips and crops in her time as a slave, so she had a fair knowledge of pain to use as a comparison. These were incomparable. Words fail to convey the intensity of the deep burning sting of the first two lashes. When the third struck, she almost dislocated a shoulder she jerked so hard. When it was over, she was crying as hard as the gag would allow.
Shadow paid no attention to her crying. He calmly removed his pants and walked the few steps to her. Without a word, he shoved his rock hard cock into her pussy. He didn't bother to see if she was wet and ready for him, or if she was as dry as a bone. It was her job to be ready at all times, especially when she knew he liked to fuck freshly whipped slaves. If she wasn't ready, it was her problem. When he was buried in her, he slapped her face to get her attention. "Listen to me," he commanded. "I want to feel your pussy muscles massaging my cock every second I am in you. If I don't, we repeat this punishment over and over until I do." Without waiting for any kind of acknowledgement, he began pumping into her. It took a few seconds for Rita to manage to pull herself together enough to respond, and then it was fairly weak, but Shadow was satisfied that she was at least struggling to obey.
After he was through with her, he dressed himself, then returned to her side. He gently ran a finger down her cheek and along her jaw. He spoke softly. "Riiiitaaa, why do you do this to yourself? Why do you choose pain over pleasure? You are a slave. You will fuck whoever you are told to fuck. Nothing you can do will change that. Accept it. If you give good service, you can be rewarded. Instead, you give poor service and are punished. As long as I have you, the whippings will continue….they will get worse if necessary. I fear Mike will be less tolerant than I when you go back to him. Choose carefully Rita, it's your life you are deciding." With that, he walked away, leaving her strung up and very uncomfortably stretched.
The whippings will continue until morale improves? It's an old joke, asshole, I already heard it. Except it isn't a joke, is it? This whipping certainly wasn't a joke. My tits ache…my pussy is throbbing….and then to top it off he fucks me! This get worse? She hung quietly for a long time, not thinking about anything except the pain. All she wanted to do was to curl up in a corner and lick her wounds. When the pain subsided to only terrible, her thought processes resumed. Her subconscious had been gnawing at the problem while she had been zoned out, which dragged her conscious thoughts in that direction. He's right about some of it. I am a slave, that isn't going away. And worse than fucking whoever they want me to, I get whipped whenever they want. Most whippings are bad enough, but this one…..I do NOT want another whipping from that whip. Particularly not a worse one. It was only a little while ago that I was ready to try to bribe him with good sex, so why not give him good sex to avoid a whipping? Its the same thing, isn't it? It's just that the reward I was hoping for is a little less that I might have hoped for. Without admitting to herself that she might be defeated, she was rationalizing her way into giving what he was demanding from her. And maybe he is right. If I give good sex to the men they give me to, perhaps I can refine my clientele to a better class of customer. If nothing else, I will begin to avoid whippings. This is basically what I was planning anyway, so maybe I should do it.
When Shadow returned it was over an hour later. He released her from her position without saying anything. Once freed, Rita stood awaiting her orders, unmoving and silent. She got them almost immediatly. He had not removed the gag. "You will fix dinner now. I want a hamburger, medium-rare with fries and a milkshake. You are having oatmeal. Everything you need is in the kitchen. You have forty-five minutes." Rita knew better than to ask if she could don the robe again. She did wonder, however, if the meal had been chosen because he knew it would splatter hot oil as it cooked, and she would be be naked in front of it.
When it was ready she found him in his office. He happened to be looking out the door when she appeared, so he dismissed the idea of making her crawl in and begging for his attention. If she were my permanent slave I would train her to do that, but its not worth it for the short time I will have her. He waved her away.
She had his meal ready on a plate, and as soon as he sat, she served it to him from her knees. He finally told her she was allowed to remove the gag. When she did, he ordered her to get her own dinner, then to kneel beside him with it. Once in position, she dipped a spoon into the bowl, but immediatly heard an abrupt "No." To be honest, she had been fearing exactly that. Reluctently, she placed the spoon on the table then placed the bowl on the floor. She had no sooner placed it there when Shadow told her, "You may use your fingers."
At least he isn't making me eat it like a dog. It may be good for me, but I hate oatmeal.
Something in the back of her brain warned her that all was not right. She confirmed her suspicion when she looked up at him, only to find him staring at her.
Now what? Am I supposed to say grace over this shit? He already told me I didn't have to eat it on the floor. Clearly I am being punished. No robe; not sitting at the table; forced to eat this. But, he is doing me a favor by not making me eat it from the floor. Wait….that must be it. He is being kind on that point, he probably expects gratitude. Am I supposed to suck his cock? Nah, he wants to eat his dinner. Maybe a thank you?
"Thank you for allowing me to use my fingers, master."
Shadow nodded slightly, then turned his attention to his meal. Rita began to scoop the oatmeal up as best she could, but she still made a mess on her face, despite trying to eat slowly and carefully.
When he finished his meal, Shadow didn't bother to look to see how Rita was making out with hers. Hre rose from his seat and without looking back he preemptorily told her she was finished by saying, "You have ten minutes to clean up the dishes and to present yourself to me in the living room." He didn't add that everything had better be spotless and neatly put away. He didn't have to.
When she appeared, he glanced at his watch and announced, "You are late. Your customer's last observation was that your cock sucking seemed…shall we say uninspired? You were going to receive additional training as a result of that anyway, but since you were late just now, we shall extend that training as additional punsihment."
When she had entered the living room, Rita had seen the cock-sucking trainer she had been forced to use previously, mounted on a short stand. It was mounted at a forty-five degree angle, perfect for giving it a blow job, at mouth height if she knelt in front of it. She also noted that the dials and gauges giving a read-out of her performance were placed such that she would be able to see them as she sucked on the dildo. In addition, there was a board with lights and other items she had not seen before. There was also a pile of leather and a short chain on the floor by the stand. He motioned for her to move to the stand.
The first item he picked up was a wide collar which he placed around her neck and buckled it in place. At the rear of the collar he attached a wide strap which hung down the center of her back. The strap had two wrist cuffs located high, about at her shoulder blades. He pulled her arms behind her back, bent them upwards and secured her wrists in the cuffs. Next came a belt with a crotch strap. He threaded two dildos onto the crotch strap. Both dildos had thin electrical wires attached to them, which led back to one of the boxes. That box was plugged into a wall outlet. The dildos were quickly inserted, then locked firmly in place when the belt was buckled around her waist. Then nipple clips, also with electrical wires were painfully attached. Only a short length of chain remained on the floor.
He began speaking. "You have already seen some of this, other items are new to you. You will need to know all of them. This dial registers lip pressure. It has two hands. The red hand is the amount of pressure you are required to provide, and the black hand is the pressure you are actually providing. That, by the way is true in every instance; red indicates required, black is actual. This dial is the suction." He then pointed to a series of LEDs, two vertical columns, side by side. They were inside a picture of a cock. "This is new to you. Obviously this is a picture of a cock. The right column of lights, which are red by the way, shows you where your mouth is supposed to be, the left row, white lights in this case, shows your actual position. The right column is controlled by a program I have created. The lights will move up and down, showing you the motion you are to follow. The pattern will change, the speed will change, the pressure and suction you are required to produce will change, all according to the program I have chosen. You will begin with a fairly simple program, primarily to allow you to get used to the trainer. I expect you to get used to it very quickly. Your job is to match your performance to the demands of the program. It should not be a surprise to you to know that the program replicates a pretty good blow job. The tougher programs result in truly outstanding blow jobs. The dildos in your ass and pussy and the nipple clips will provide all the encouragement that may be necessary. You will be pleased to know that since you did so well the first time you used this training device, I have increased the level of encouragement for tonight's session. Oh wonderful, the last time this only hurt like hell. Pay attention, it will start out slow, but you will be giving a good blow job by the time it finishes. Now kneel and place your lips on the tip of the dildo."
When she was in position, he attached the chain from the front of her collar to the stand. He adjusted the length by turning a drum on the stand, winding the slack onto the drum. There appeared to be a small motor attached to the drum, but he said nothing about it.
"I will offer you two suggestions. The advanced programs will distinguish between the pressure of your lips and that created by your tongue. They will also require specific movement of your tongue as part of the blow job. You can ignore that for now, but I suggest you do not, and that you begin practicing that aspect immediatly. The second suggestion is that you try to exceed the pressure and suction levels being required. Sudden changes in the program might catch you by surprise and the extra cushion you are providing yourself may prevent the encouragements from triggering." With that, he flipped a switch and Rita saw the board light up and hands begin to move, demanding her actions.
She tried to pay no attention to him, but the corner of her eye caught the fact that he was evidently ignoring her completely, being absorbed in a book. The book was one of the Gor series. Thats just fucking wonderful. Is he doing research for more ideas about how to torture me?
In a very short time the program was requiring her full attention. It began slowly and easily enough, not requiring anything more complicated that medium lip pressure and even up and down strokes on the dildo. Basic blow job 101. Then the rhythm and pattern changed, requiring short, higher speed strokes first at the tip, then at the base. Then the lip pressure requirement increased along with the demand for a still more complicated pattern of short, quick strokes alternating with long, slow ones, running the length of the dildo. Rita could not totally divorce herself from the exercise and soon found herself envisioning Shadow attached to the shaft in her mouth and feeling his reactions to the considerable pleasure she would be providing if this were his cock in her mouth. Unconsciously, she brought her tongue into play, and on one or two occasions felt frustration when after applying a particularly good swirl with her tongue, got no reaction, as there would have been from him. She was losing herself in the fantasy of the moment. At a few points in the exercise, the suction requirement dropped to zero and the pressure was so light she assumed it meant she was supposed to have removed him fullly from her mouth and should merely be licking him. The chain, of course, prevented this.
While Rita had given many blow jobs, both as a free woman and as a slave, this was the first time she had ever really thought about it as an art form. This was the first real indication she had received as to what a man might consider to be a good one. She had gotten reactions, naturally. There isn't a man breathing who can not react to a pair of lips and a tongue working assiduously on his stiff cock. But she had never thought to ask for a detailed review of her specific actions, so this was somewhat enlightening for her. Quite evidently, a good blow job was more than just lip pressure and occasional teasing. She had known that intuitively and had reacted instinctively, but now she had a definitive guide to indicate a correct path to follow. She wondered how much variation there would be in coming sessions with this machine's programs.
Intrigued in spite of the circumstances, she began to try to predict the next set of actions, or to plot what she would have done, given the freedom to act on her own volition. Then when many of her thoughts didn't match the required actions, she began to wonder if she would do better against the requirements of a "truly outstanding" blow job. Her ego made her hope she would.
Long after any mortal man would have cum at least once, she was still being driven by the unforgiving program. As she grew tired, the encouragements came more frequently and more painfully. The program had a schedule built into it. If encouragement had to be delivered too soon after a previous one, the pain level of the second was increased. Similarly, the third was more painful than the second, and so on. Only after a sufficient duration of satisfactory performance would the pain level drop to the initial setting. One particularly bad series of shocks left her in tears as she labored strenuously to appease the heartless machine. She didn't expect the end when it finally came. The light pattern was requiring her to deep throat the dildo. She was holding the dildo fully sunk into her mouth when she heard a faint whir. A few seconds later she felt a soft tug at the throat of the collar and then all the lights went out on the control board. When she tried to retract her head from the stand, she found the chain had been fully wound in and she couldn't remove as much as a quarter of an inch of the dildo from her throat. The lesson might have been concluded, but the punishment persisted. She stayed locked in that position, on her knees with the dildo jammed fully into her mouth, until Shadow was ready to go to bed. He seriously considered leaving her that way all night, but ultimately yielded to his own weakness. He had a beautiful piece of ass at his command and the bed was too big and lonely to not have her pleasures for the night. Besides, after he fucked her once or twice, it would be a perfect opportunity for her to practice what she had just learned.
When he brought her into the bedroom he immediatly locked a cuff on her ankle that was connected to the bed by a length of chain. The message was resoundingly clear. She was a slave this time, not even remotely a free woman, and she was expected to perform for her master.
The following morning was uneventful. He locked her in a belly transport chain as he had done previously and waited for the customer to arrive. When he eventually showed up, Shadow went through the motions of explaining Rita's status. While he was doing that, Rita kept sneaking a look at the customer. I've know that face. Where have I seen that face before? Suddenly it hit her. At Spellbook! I saw him at Spellbook. He was bringing a slave in to Spellbook. HE'S A TESTER! Sonuvabitch….thats what this is all about. He is giving me to testers to evaluate my performance to see if the whippings are having the desired effect. Well, too bad Shadow, I just beat you at your own game. As long as I am here, I will give superb performances to my 'customers', but as soon as I get back to Spellbook…tough shit on you. No. On second thought I won't. My performance will improve a little each day, but no overnight conversion into being the perfect slave. Too bad asshole, you lose.
In keeping with her decision, Rita's performance that day garnered mild praise from the tester. The minor improvement was enough to win her an easy night, and when Shadow took her to bed, he actually tried to give her a good time. She initially resisted, not wanting to succumb to to the trap of enjoying good sex with him and possibly growing to like him. Her resistence crumbled slowly, but it crumbled.
Each sucessive night brought better reports from her testers and better sex from Shadow. On what turned out to be her final night with him, she was moaning her orgasms loudly and writhing as energetically as she had on the night he treated her as a free woman.
Although she didn't realize it, her final morning had arrived. Shadow received his obligatory blow job and sent her to prepare his breakfast with no indication that anything was different than it had been for the previous few days. His satisfaction with her evidently improved behavior was not surprising to her. He had shown her kindness and consideration, slowly giving her more latitude in reward. He was, after all, a fair master. She had grown to expect this of him. This, despite the fact that he had whipped her mercilessly, trained her hard and she was positive, he would have ratcheted up the pain and training had she not twigged to the fact that the whole thing was a set-up, and modified her behavior accordingly. But she knew as soon as she was free of his clutches, she could revert to her former level of performance without undue fear or concern.
The only point even mildly surprising was his choice of bondage for her. She had come to expect the transport chain around her waist, so the more extensive….and tighter…..choice this morning was not expected. Maybe its what today's 'customer' wants. She had no illusions about actually being rented out. At least not until she was returned to Spellbook.
The realization dawned when by 11 o'clock the telephone hadn't rung. Shadow had been busy for most of the morning and had allowed her the freedom to bathe and relax until shortly before then. It was then that he called her to him and bound and gagged her. When he turned to his computer and began writing she began to suspect things were going to be different this day. After that persisted for almost half an hour, she became sure she was not going out for another test. She wasn't positive what might happen, but she thought going back to Spellbook was likely, especially since Shadow seemed to be writing a lot in his computer. His occasional glance at her convinced her more and more that he was writing a final report about her.
So Rita stood silent and motionless watching Shadow fill out a report reflecting her performance. Her silence was ensured by the oversize ball shoved into her mouth; it being the business end of the harness ball-gag he had crammed into her. After forcibly getting the ball into her straining mouth, he had pulled the straps very tightly around her head. They were tight enough that she was sure they would give her a headache if they remained on for much longer. That was almost a certainty considering he planned to return her to Spellbook Slave Rentals after he completed the report card, and he seemed to be writing quite a bit so it was doubtful that he would finish any time soon. Not that she was going anywhere.
She shrugged her shoulders, trying to ease the cramp in her shoulder blade. The cramp came from the fact that her elbows were touching behind her back, as were her wrists, each held together tightly by heavy leather cuffs that were padlocked closed. She had slightly more freedom with her feet, as they had about a foot of chain between the cuffs on her ankles. Not that that mattered tremendously, he had ordered her to stand still and she was not in the mood to prompt a repeat of the recent obedience-assistance method he had demonstrated on her. Obedience-assistance, my ass. A whipping is a whipping no matter what its called. As that thought passed through her mind, she tried to rub her ass to sooth the burn that remained as a reminder of the terrible session she had endured earlier in the week.
When he finally finished, he printed the pages he had written and went into the back to retreive them. Upon returning, he rolled them up and inserted them into a metal tube with a screw cap. He sealed them in. There was a short length of light chain, one end of which was attached to the tube. He looped the chain around her neck then attached the free end of the chain to the middle of itself. It was not tight enough to constrict her throat, but it was snug enough that it would never come off without somebody releasing it. Being forced to transport her own report in this fashion was an expected indignity, but she wondered for a second about why it was a metal tube when a plain envelope could have been attached to her just as easily. Then it made sense. I'll bet that thing is waterproof in case it's raining. Doesn't matter if the slave gets wet, so long as the report is protected. And being metal, there is no way I can rub it off of me or somehow damage it. Clever little bastard, isn't he?
As a final step, Shadow attached a lead chain to her collar and without a word, pulled her toward the door. When they reached the lobby, Shadow brought her outside to a steel post sunk into the ground. She had seen it every time she had entered or exited the building and knew exactly what it was for. He clipped the end of the lead chain to a ring in the post.
Rita was actually disappointed. He turned and walked away, leaving her standing there. I didn't expect a tearful goodbye, or even a goodbye kiss…but NOTHING? You heartless bastard….after all the great sex I gave you…well fuck you, and good riddance.
An hour later a van with the Spellbook name on it collected her and took her away.
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Next episode Rita’s Choice: Chapter 4 Mar 2006
