When I stopped her head rolled back weakly and she moaned, dazedly I slammed my fist into her belly and her head was flung forward as she grunted in pain.
"You are a cheap little piece of cunt meat!" I snapped. "You don't have any will. You do what I order! Do you understand!?"
I gripped her hair and jerked her head back, putting my face inches from hers.
"Do you understand?!"
"Ye… yes," she gasped.
I slammed my knee up into her bare pussy pad and she grunted explosively, her head falling back again as she began to sob.
I moved behind her, running a hand over her smooth, soft skin, then went to my toys and examined them.
I started with the cane. It hissed through the air each time I swung it, and cracked against her round behind with a satisfying sound and weight. She sobbed and moaned and shook in pain, water still dripping from her hair.
I laid a couple of dozen quick slashes across her ass, then put down the cane and picked up the buggy whip. I lashed her back and buttocks and thigh, mostly for the satisfaction of it. The whip was too light to really cause her the kind of pain I wanted.
I put it aside and picked up the crop, and her screams rose in intensity and desperation as I began whipping her buttocks, then moved slowly upwards, lashing her lower back, then her middle back, then her upper back, raising blows down on her shaking, trashing body as she shrieked and screamed.
I put down the crop when her reactions were starting to dull, when the pain from her back was obscuring the fresh pain of each blow. I went to the box and picked up the bull whip, letting it uncurl and fall to the floor.
My cock was bulging against my pants as I stared at her reddened back and buttocks, crisscrossed with marks of pain. I gave her several minutes while I snapped the whip at a chair on the other side of the room, practicing until it cracked nicely.
It wasn't too hard once you got the hang of it.
I returned to find her moaning and whimpering, mostly unchanged, her hair still dripping a little.
I positioned myself behind her, looking at her gorgeous body in front, in the mirrors that showed her head dropping down, eyes closed. Well, her eyes were going to open wide in a minute.
I swung the whip forward, and it cracked solidly across her shoulders.
Her head snapped back and she screamed in startled horror, her body shaking and straining violently as an angry red welt appeared among the lighter marks of her back. It ran across her shoulder blades and along her ribs at her side.
I gave her a minute of sobbing moaning pleading to contemplate the next, then swung the whip. Another angry line slashed across her lower back and again she thrashed violently as her screams filled the basement.
The whip lashed out again and again and again, laying lines of fire across her back and buttocks, drawing a wonderful response from her.
I put the whip down then. I had been very careful with it, four the blows were so harsh against her flesh that if the whip lashed across one of the welts already on her it would have cut her and possibly left scars.
I didn't want any scars on my fuck toy, not on the outside.
There were five thick, dark red welts across her back and buttocks, and that would do for now.
But I wasn't finished with her punishment, not by a long shot. She would learn that she had to obey me no matter how disgusting she thought the request.
I went to the table. There were two things there I wanted. One was an anal hook. It was like a dildo, only it was about four inches long instead of eight, and it curved sharply like a hook, and had a ring on the end.
The second was a simple cord, which I had tied into the ring.
I went back to the sobbing, moaning girl and gripped her hair, pulling it together behind her head and winding it into a kind of rough braid. I then forced the dildo hook up her anus. It hooked under her tailbone, and I lifted the cord, pulling back on her braid, forcing her head back further and further, until her eyes were facing up at the ceiling.
Then I tied it to the cord and moved around in front of her.
She could no longer even see me, for her head was bound tightly back, looking up at the ceiling behind her.
I picked up the buggy whip first, then slashed it across her belly. She sobbed in pain, but nothing like the shrieks the bull whip had earned. That was okay.
I lashed her belly and thighs, then looked at her taut round breasts, straining outward because of her arched back. I raised the buggy whip and lashed it across her right breast, and she screamed in startled shock and pain.
I whipped her left breast then her right again, then her left, as she sobbed and shook and moaned in pain, straining and writhing as the whip cracked across her taut melons.
Next came the flogger, turning her belly and breasts red as I whipped it down on them. After that came the paddle, which I had not yet used. Finally came the riding crop, and her screams rose as I cracked it across her belly and thighs, then on her quivering breasts.
Her melons bounced and jerked as the crop bit deep, and she shrieked and howled in agony as her fiery breasts were thoroughly beaten.
I dropped the crop, winded, and moved around behind her. I undid the cord binding her hair then shoved her head forward. Her chin dropped onto her chest as she grunted, only barely conscious.
I plucked the hook from her anus then thrust my iron hard boner deep up into her shitter. Quickly and violently I sodomized her, then spewing my load in her guts.
I pulled her down finally, but only to hang her upside from by the ankles again, the hood over her head, and her arms bound behind her. I put the headphones on and left her there for the rest of the day.
I let her down in the late evening, and all she could do at first was lay there, moaning weakly. I got the cane then, and started yelling. Yelling like a drill instructor, cursing her, slashing out with the cane when she didn't obey quickly.
I had her crawl up the stairs on her belly, had her do tricks, roll over, sit up, beg, jerk off, lick my toes, lick her own toes. At a barked command she crawled this way, or rolled that, or positioned herself in a way I had ordered. Any slight hesitation brought the cane whistling down across her burning back or buttocks or breasts.
Then it was back upstairs to the tub, where she knelt, slack-jawed as I pissed into her mouth. She swallowed it all down dully, then thanked me for it. I washed her roughly, then made her crawl into my room, where I applied a soothing salve to the marks on her body before circling her with rope like a cocoon and leaving her on my bed, gagged.
When I woke the next morning all I had to do was roll her onto her belly. Her legs were bound together, which made for tight going, but I managed to get my cock down into her ass for a quickie.
I pulled her gag free and let her drink my piss. After chugging down my piss I untied her and let her crawl on her belly down the stairs and into the living room.
There, with the aid of the crop, and the promise of food if she did well, she lurched from position to position, now on all fours, ass raised, now on her knees, hands up behind her neck, now on her back, legs back and apart, ass and pussy displayed.
I let her crawl into the kitchen on all fours, then put down a bowl of milk, which she was permitted to drink like a dog. After that I made some light soup, and let her drink that. It didn't take her long to lick the bowl clean. It had been two days now since her last morsel, after all, and she was starving.
Then as a final reward, I let her kneel and lick a few morsels of bacon and eggs from my fingers. I ate while she knelt at my feet, then let her crawl alongside me upstairs, where I applied more soothing salve to her skin. She was all marked up, after all, and I wanted her soft, unblemished skin back as soon as possible.
I let her rest on a blanket on the floor for a couple of hours, then it was up to perform her tricks again. I barked them out rapid-fire, making her race from one to the next.
I didn't want to mark her up any more, so I inserted the shock tube, the egg thing, back into her anus. The slightest pause or hesitation in her tricks, or the slightest lack of enthusiasm in her actions and I jabbed the button.
I used the egg on her that day and the next, and hung her by her ankles for long periods of time with the tape playing in her ears.
Then I started treating her nice. I removed the egg, I hugged her a lot, and stroked her hair and kissed her gently, and spoke softly and complimentary to her. This confused her at first, but then she performed even more eagerly, wanting to please me, not wanting me to go back to screaming and yelling at her, not to mention beating her.
I produced some sexy lingerie, and let her put on a fashion show for me, complimenting her on her beautiful or how sensuous and erotic and sexy she was. I began working on her body, stroking it softly as she lay across my lap, or beside me on the sofa.
I tied her spread eagled to my bed and then ate her out, using every trick I knew to finger and stroke and suck and lick her nipples and breasts and crotch to repeated orgasms.
I used the vibrator on her, and other little toys, feathers, brushes, ice cubes, to drive her into orgasmic madness again and again.
Then let her sleep in bed with me, her hands bound gently in front of her, a loose line binding her collar to the bedpost, my arms around her.
Then I caught her doing something wrong. Oh, it was only wrong by my definition, of course. I'd been looking for something to catch her at so I could punish her again.
This happened to be turning on the TV to watch a show without my permission. She was teary eyed when I called her on it, and threw herself at my feet, kissing and licking them and promising to never do it again. She begged me to forgive her, but I told her she had disappointed me terribly.
"I will have to punish you, Gwen," I said sadly.
"Please, nooooo," she sobbed. "I won't do it again, Michaaaeeellll!"
"Let's go down to the basement."
She sobbed in misery, and crawled towards the basement.
"Wait," I ordered. "It might be that you don't need the full punishment. Maybe, if you have enough discipline, if you really do love me, that…"
"Please! Please!" she gasped. "Anything!"
She kissed my ankles and I backed away.
"Are you strong enough to take your punishment without being tied down?"
"I… Yes," she gulped.
"If you can, then I won't have to use the bull whip."
She shuddered and hugged herself fearfully.
"Or the riding crop. Nor will I have to hit you nearly as many times. Do you think you can be strong?"
"Yes!" she gasped.
I pretended to consider.
"The last time I punished you I hit your behind with the cane twenty times, then with the buggy whip ten times, then with the crop twenty times, then with the bull whip four times."
She shuddered again.
"Then I used them all on your back. After that I used them all on your belly and thighs and breasts. Except for the bullwhip, which I didn't use on your front."
She whimpered slightly.
"This is what I'll do. Instead of that, I will only use the cane, and I will not hit you more than thirty times in total. But only…" I pointed my finger at her warningly, "… only if you can maintain your position, and not move without permission. If you move, or try to evade the blow, or try to turn away, then you go downstairs and get hung from your wrists."
"And this time," I glared. "You'll get fifty blows across the back with the bullwhip, and fifty more across the breasts. I don't know if you'll live through it."
"I'll do anything you want," she begged.
"You will try. Wether you'll succeeded depends on wether you have learned any discipline in the past week or so. Now strip off your lingerie. Until you prove you deserve to wear them you'll have no clothes on your slutty little body."
I went and got the cane, and when I returned she was sitting on her heels, back straight, naked ready for her punishment.
"Dog-fuck," I said.
She sprang forward onto her hands and knees, spreading her legs and sticking her ass up at me. I moved behind her and examined it. All the marks were gone now except for a couple of fading lines from the bull whip. Her pussy was cleanly shaved, of course.
"Remember, if you try to move or escape your punishment you know what you'll get."
"I won't," she promised, her voice quivering.
I drew back the cane and slashed it across her upturned ass. She cried out softly, and trembled, but held her position. I lashed it down again, loving the feel of it as it struck into her soft meat. Again she cried out, choking off the sound.
Three more times the cane cracked across that lovely teenage ass, and though she was sobbing weakly she kept her position.
"Heels," I barked.
She scrambled quickly back and sat her ass down on her heels. She winced and moaned, but ignored the pain as she straightened her back and spread her knees apart.
I moved in front of her.
"Five down, fifteen to go, slut. Think you can take them."
"I'll do anything you want, Michael," she gasped.
"Hands behind your neck. Arch your back. We'll see just how much discipline you have now."
She knew what I was aiming for, and sobbed as she threw her head back and brought her hands behind her neck. I poked at her breasts with the cane, then drew it back and cracked it down lightly across her right breast.
She gasped, clenching her teeth, beads of sweat starting to break out on her skin.
I cracked it down on her left breast, just a bit harder.
She let out a low gurgling sob.
I cracked it down on her right breast, harder still, and she cried out in pain, tears spilling from her eyes.
I swung the cane down on her left breast again, still harder.
She jerked and moaned and cried out in pain, but she kept her hands where they were and kept her back arched.
I slashed it down hard now, the sound loud as it cracked into her right breast, then her left, then her right, then her left.
She was sobbing and crying out continuously, her torso swaying and shaking and jerking as the cane descended, swishing through the air and cracking against her meaty orbs, but after five blows to each breast she had managed to hold her position.
I lowered the cane and admired her gorgeous torso, sweating heavily now, her breasts crisscrossed with red lines.
"That's fifteen. Only five more to go." I said softly as I kneaded her cherry red breast. "CAT!" I snapped.
It was another of the positions I'd trained her to do. She all but fell down onto her back. Laying on her back Gwen jerked her legs up and pulled them back, until her heels were pressing against her rump. She then grasp both of her ankles with her hands. She lifted her ass up as high as she could while at the same time spreading her knees wide apart. Lastly she pooched out her bald pussy. With her pussycat on display, she laid there, gasping and whimpering, her eyes gazing down at her muti-striped breasts.
"Five more and it's done," I said. "If you can hold your position."
I had to kneel for this final portion of the punishment. I raised the cane, and she stared at it, whimpering, watching it swing down hard, watching it crack directly across her soft, bare pussy mound.
She shrieked in pain, rocking back and forth on her bent spine, howling and sobbing as her head thrashed from side to side. I thought for a minute she was going to unbend, but she managed to keep her arms tightly against the backs of her legs, her hands griping her ankles tightly.
I cracked the cane down onto her pussy mound again, then again, then again, swinging hard.
She howled with each blow, but though she rocked and writhed and her head thrashed alarmingly, she didn't change her position.
The final blow, as hard as I could, cracking into her soft cunt mound, directly along her cleft so it mashed against her clit.
Another shriek, louder than the others, and more thrashing and shaking, but she held herself in place.
"All done," I said. "You may thank me now."
She let her ankles go with a ragged sob, her hand clutching her pussy weakly as she rolled onto her front and crawled to me, licking at my feet and thanking me.
I slid down beside her and carefully and gently licked along her breasts, sliding my tongue along the red lines the cane had made, tonguing and suckling at her nipples, which hardened quickly, then down her body to her pussy.
She whimpered as I touched it, but I was gentle, my tongue soft, sliding soothingly over her clitty as she spread her legs wide. Her cunt was incredibly tender, of course, as were her breasts, but she was such a fucking slut now that she couldn't resist my tongue, and was soon writhing in climax, whimpering and moaning in joy as my tongue brought her off again and again.
The next time I "caught" her at something, I arranged for it to be with a vibrator buried in her snatch. She was as hot as steam, and on the verge of coming when I "discovered" how she had broken a minor rule.
She was in shackles at the time, and I was calling her my sex slave, my slave girl, and she was getting into it blissfully I made her assume the same positions she had before, only wasn't quite as heavy with the cane.
This time she obviously got off on it, gasping in both pain and pleasure as I caned her breasts, moaning as she lay back and brought her knees back.
There wasn't the screaming this time, but instead loud grunts and choked cries of pleasure. I hit her pussy five times, then six, then seven, as she moaned and writhed in delirious passion. On the ninth time she came, screaming in pleasure.
I whipped the cane down as fast as I could then as she rocked and shook and thrashed in orgiastic wonder.
Then when she went limp I dropped atop her and rammed my cock down her whipped pussy, fucking her violently.
Well, all good things had to come to an end. My parents returned home after three weeks. Neither noticed anything amiss, of course. Gwen acted pretty much the way she always had around them. Not that she was around them much, nor that they paid much attention to her when she was.
I still had her on her knees sucking me off every afternoon, of course, but was unhappy with the restrictions my parents' presence placed on discipline, not to mention on fucking her in the evening.
So I bought a little place just outside of town. It had three things going for it. One, it had no really close neighbors, two, it had a garage, and three, it had a bomb shelter under the basement.
I moved out of the house, leaving Gwen behind for now. I returned every day, of course, fucking her, making her do her tricks, making her jerk off and dance for me, and caning her when she broke some minor rule of mine.
I gave her an assignment, though. She was to think of girls for me to grab, the most beautiful, luscious, adorable girls she knew, ones roughly her own age. She was to go to malls and beaches, and anywhere else she needed to go to find more of these girls, to get to know them, to befriend them.
In the meantime I asked around, and found some kinky, high class clubs in the city where the really rich gathered to do disgusting things. I spent most evenings in them, learning as much as I could about the kinds of the various rich guys there, and what kind of people they were.
I wound up getting to know a rich guy named Peter Martin. He was in his late fifties or early sixties, extremely wealthy, and loved putting the whip to beautiful young women. Of course, everything in the clubs was consensual, so there was a limit to what he could do.
Even the girls who got paid to take abuse would only take so much, and there have always been few enough of the true masochistic whores with dynamite bodies willing to bear great pain for lust. So despite his great wealth, Peter was unsatisfied. I was going to do my best to capitalize on that.