by Roget Gaiton
The punishment room is the largest room in our facility. It’s about 30 by 50 feet. Along the long wall on one side there is a very wide variety of rings, frames and hooks used to restrain slaves in virtually any conceivable position. Across from that along the other long wall are chairs and tables for the comfort of those who wish to watch. Between the two there are a wide variety of other bondage apparatus. 317 was placed in a sturdy chair near the center of the room and bound to it. As a final touch her head was bound tightly to the chair’s high back so that she was forced to look straight ahead.
Over the next few minutes almost everyone in the facility, with the exception of three guards, came into the room. There were about 20 men, including all the masters, technicians, staff, guards and guests who took seats at the tables, along with the two mistresses currently in residence. Once we were all settled in, Mey Chun, 6 female slaves in various stages of training and five owned slaves entered the discipline room. The last one to enter was 37; our male staff slave, who was now wearing nothing but a very frightening leather hood and matching thong. In businesslike fashion they were chained by their wrists, standing in a line with their arms spread and their faces against the long wall. Mey Chun stood unbound at the end of the line but her posture made it clear that she was part of the group. I stood next to 317 and studied her face closely. Something happens to a woman’s face when she enters a state of submission and since she was going to be there for a while I wanted to remember how had she looked before.
Once all the female slaves had been secured, the hooded male slave asked for and received permission to begin. Slowly and with a wonderful sense of the dramatic, he walked to the rack and selected a whip, then made the line of slaves flinch in unison as he cracked it loudly in the air. The whip he had selected was perfect for the task, over six feet long and made of tooled black leather; it looked horrifying. In fact the eight tines at the end were made of soft flat leather which made it far less damaging than it looked, though it was still somewhat painful. As I forced 317 to watch he walked up to each woman and struck her across the back. When he reached the end of the line he walked back to the beginning and began working his way down again until each woman had received ten lashes. After the first slave was struck 317 begged me not to do that to her. When I told her that I wouldn’t she looked relieved for a moment then suddenly horrified as the import of my words struck her.
317 tried again and again to look away from the slaves being punished because of her but I didn’t allow it. When the last blow had been struck Mey Chun stepped forward and addressed me.
“Sir, I committed two terrible offences tonight and ask permission to be punished.”
I asked what her offences were and she replied, “First I failed to make a woman wish to stay with us, then I failed to secure her properly so that she was able to attempt escape.” I told her to command the male slave before her. Moving with a deliberate dignity she moved to stand only five feet in front of 317 and locked eyes with her.
“Whip me now, you bitch! Twice as much as the rest and twice as bad.”
Obviously she intended to anger her punisher but it didn’t work. He gave her the lashes calmly, professionally and methodically. Ten strokes across the back followed by 5 on her breasts then 4 on her behind. She was silent, though obviously suffering and on the nineteenth stroke she held her hand up to signal him to stop for a moment, then meaningfully spread her legs more than shoulder length apart. He understood her intent and carefully landed the final blow on her pussy. The pain was terrible but she bore it with an odd and very moving dignity even as she collapsed to her knees on the floor. Every eye in the room was on her as she lay there, holding her genitals and silently shaking as she recovered. When she could function again it took her a few minutes of struggling to make it back up to her knees. Once there she crawled slowly, obviously still hurting, over to me and asked in a very unsteady voice if she had been punished enough. When I said “yes” she put her hands on the edge of 317’s chair and used it to help her rise to her feet. Once there she leaned in close and very deliberately spat in 317’s face.
While Mey Chun had been recovering on the floor, 37 had been releasing the other slaves’ bonds. None of them were too steady on their feet but they helped each other and moved close. When Mey Chun turned around after spitting she fell into 11 sets of loving arms. 317 hadn’t stopped crying from the moment the punishment began and when Mey Chun spat on her, it changed tone and became even more pitiful. Already feeling low, that rejection combined with the hate-filled looks from the rest of the female slaves took her to the very bottom.
Without giving her a chance to wipe the spittle from her face, I released 317 from the chair, lifted her to her feet and cuffed her wrists behind her back. I then led her from the room towards a destination on the far side of the facility. As we walked I considered what we had done to her so far today.
In psychological terms we had first abused her and then made her part of an emotional support group composed of women who had all suffered the same sort of abuse. Now we had cut her off from that group and would soon traumatize her so severely that she would be in such desperate need of some form of support and would willingly surrender everything to get it. This technique is older than Rome. In modern times it was first used on American prisoners during the Korean War. The effect, even with their primitive tools, was amazing. Since then the technique has been refined all over the world.
Our journey ended at the medical room. In preparation, the table had been removed and replaced with a single knee high padded bench about 4’ long and 2’ wide. I took 317 inside and left her there alone. Watching on the video, it took her about 10 minutes to collect herself enough to stop crying. When she had recovered enough to begin looking around the room, I knew that it was time for her next ordeal.
At my signal two uniformed men entered the room. One was the guard she had shot, still wearing a shirt with a huge bloodstain on the chest. The other was the guard she had stunned, wearing a small Band-Aid on his neck. She barely had time to gasp before they were lifting her up and binding her to the bench. Within seconds she was bound firmly in an all fours or doggie style position and had a ring style gag holding her mouth open.
What followed was carefully choreographed to be very brutal. Both men stripped and one went to the front and the other to her back. Putting his penis through the gag’s ring the first raped her mouth as the other whipped her from behind. I had selected the whip myself, it had a short handle and the straps were wide but light. That meant that her tormentors could strike her with all their might without causing serious damage, though the pain would be intense. During her training she would be receiving many whippings, most of them done in a slow and erotic fashion by me. This one was fast and painful, intended only to punish and degrade.
They gave her fifty lashes. Physically that isn’t a very severe beating. In the morning she would find sitting uncomfortable and show some bruising but wouldn’t really be hurt. Psychologically it was very severe. She was humiliated by forced oral sex, a very degrading intrusion, even as she was being painfully punished. There was no way for her to escape the fact the she was totally helpless and had no choice other than total obedience. Now it was time to make her accept her slavery even further.
The men worked together to unbind her and then flip her onto her back on the bench. She was as cooperative as she could be while shaking and crying intensely. The let her lay there for a few moments to recover, then the man who had been in her mouth ordered her to be silent. It took some effort for her to collect herself but as quickly as she could she quieted down and listened to him.
“You have to understand that you are a slave now. If you ever try to harm one of your guards again your punishment will be much worse than this. Do you understand me, slave?”
She was anxious to avoid further pain and immediately gasped out “I understand sir, I will never do anything wrong again. Please, please, please, don’t hurt me any more.”
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br /> He smiled at her begging, she is particularly beautiful when she begs, and then continued “Do you understand that it was you that caused your suffering, slave?”
She didn’t really understand but would have agreed to anything at that point, and said, “I understand sir, I will never disobey again, I swear I never will!”
He smiled at her again. She took it to mean that her answer had pleased him but he was actually smiling at what he knew was about to happen.
“We are going to do one more thing to you, slave, and it will be terrible. Tell me that you deserve it and thank us for caring enough to train you.”
She began sobbing earnestly again in anticipation of the pain. But, she knew that she had no choice other than making it even worse and tried to sound sincere as she said, “I deserve to be punished more sir, thank you for teaching me but please show this slave mercy, sir.”
He turned his attention from her to the other guard and casually asked his opinion as to what they should do to her now. The other guard didn’t even hesitate. “She burned my neck, I want to put a cigar out on her pussy.”
The first guard grinned at 317’s terrified gasp and pretended to think that over then replied, “Nah, her trainer would be mad about her screaming every time he takes her. How about we just fist her in one hole each and call it a day?”
The second guard put a level of maliciousness in his voice that would have made any horror movie a hit as he said, “Curl your legs up to your chest, Slut. I’m going first and your ass is never going to forget me.”
That was my cue. I entered the room, pushing a cart with some room service items on it. Once inside I asked the guards, “where are we at now?” They snapped to attention and reported what they had done and what they were about to do. Keeping my voice unnaturally calm and dangerous sounding I asked the second guard a question.
“Were you about to take revenge on a helpless slave who had already been punished for her misbehaviour?”
He stammered and struggled to find an explanation then gave up and said simply, “yes, sir.”
Still calm and dangerous in voice I commanded, “Go to Mistress Jane and tell her to make you scream for twenty minutes.”
He managed to sound genuinely terrified when he acknowledged the order in spite of the fact that the entire conversation had been faked then he and his compatriot both hastily fled the room. I turned to 317 who still had her legs curled to her chest and politely asked her to sit on the bench. Once she was in place I had her look up at me. She was still blinking back tears but her eyes met mine. It was a pleasant meeting, in her eyes I was now her protector and saviour and that felt good coming from such a beautiful woman in distress.
Speaking slowly and with sincerity I told her that I needed for her to surrender now. She answered that she would do anything I wanted if I would just keep the other men from hurting her. Choosing my words very carefully I explained to her that there was more to it than that. Physical obedience wasn't enough, she needed to accept that she was a slave now and always would be. She couldn’t answer verbally but nodded her head yes as she began to cry once again. Speaking more to her subconscious mind than to her, I explained that her resistance had caused her punishment to happen. Total surrender and acceptance would prevent it from happening again and ordered her to look into my eyes and repeat after me.
Her voice was unsteady but still soft, sweet and lovely as she shivered and said, “I surrender every part of myself to you, sir. I beg you to take all of me and to do whatever it takes to make me the obedient and desirable woman that I can be.”
I gave her a quick kiss on the lips then pulled a nozzle from the wall. Her surrender had been real so I rewarded it and by doing so made it even more real to her. Moments later I was spraying her with a gentle stream of very warm water. She relaxed into the shower and unconsciously opened her body like a flower to receive its warmth. First I slowly rinsed her from head to toe. Then I began spraying her hair and finished with her face. When I dried her eyes with a hand towel she looked up and thanked me with moving sincerity. I shut off the water and told her to stand. She did and then I told her to thank me with her lips and was rewarded with a delicious soft gentle kiss. I could tell that she meant it and that her sense of surrender was growing. It was then that I knew for sure that I had her. She was becoming a slave now and if I did things right she would be a good one.
I held her for a moment then smiled as I said, “If you liked that you will really love this!” It was a trite and silly thing to say under the circumstances but also a very normal one. By behaving normally now I made this event, including her punishment and surrender, into a normal situation in her mind.
I pulled the cover off of the first dish on the cart to reveal a bar of soap and a toothbrush. She smiled and told me that I really knew how to win a woman’s heart. I was impressed that she could recover some sense of humor so quickly. This was a very strong woman standing before me. Contrary to what you would expect strong women make by far the best slaves. Weak ones surrender too far and become boring swiftly. As she soaped with determination, I removed my own clothes.
As she washed I enjoyed watching the movement of her superb body and remarked silently to on the amazing power of the subconscious. Under the circumstances her rational mind should want me horribly dead. What was happening was that the part of her mind Freud called “the seat of pure survival without care or conscience” realized that pleasing me was the only way to stop her suffering and was forcing her towards ever deepening surrender. The fact that I was the cause of her suffering was tucked into some corner of her mind as well; but all that she was aware of at the moment was that I was being kind to her when she so desperately needed it.
Once she had finished washing I gave her a big fluffy towel, which she used to dry herself then wrapped around her. When she asked what other miracles I had on my cart. I motioned for her to sit down and wheeled it over in front of her before lifting the next cover. This one revealed 2 cups of steaming hot chocolate, a variety of cookies and 2 tablets. Without sounding resistant at all, she asked me what drugs I was giving her. With a straight face I told her that they were the favorite of all slaves who have been punished then, after a dramatic pause said, “Tylenol”. She giggled just a tiny bit and took them, then proceeded to work her way quickly through the cookies. Sugar helps the body and mind deal with shock so I had expected her to gobble them down. I had told the truth about the tablets but had kept the fact that the cookies were laced with a narcotic painkiller and relaxant to myself.
When she had finished eating I asked her if she was going to keep her beauty to herself. She looked puzzled for a minute then realized what I wanted and dropped her towel to the bench. One of the delights of women is the fact that they pick the darndest times to surprise you. Suddenly sounding very fearful and insecure she asked me if I really found her beautiful. Knowing that her looks had to have been making men pant for her entire life, it was a question that caught me off guard. The answer was easy though; I assured her that she was absolutely stunning.
Still not convinced she asked, “Even knowing what I did, you still want me?”
I told her, “I not only still want you, after a little time working with you I intend to partake of your pleasures.”
She liked how I phrased that and was pleased to be wanted. That was not surprising; her greatest need, by far, right now was acceptance. She needed even more reassurance though, so I pulled her over onto my lap and kissed her softly but deep and long. She resisted my tongue for a few moments then began to move her own in simulated passion. I kept up the kiss until she gave in and began kissing back with real passion. When it had gone its full natural length I pulled back and told her that she was not only clean, she smelled delicious.
Her next question was what I had meant by working with her. Instead of answering I stood us both up and took her hand and told her to come with me. It was a short trip since the room I wanted was next door. We call it “the gym” an
d it’s basically an aerobics workout room. The floor was one big mat, one wall was mirrored and the only thing that would have looked out of place in a health spa was the rack of whips and crops next to the collection of dumbbells.
I picked up a thin cane and told her that she needed to obey quickly and without stopping to think. She looked scared but nodded in agreement. I had her face the mirror and began with very simple instructions. Things like putting her hands on top of her head then behind her back. Walking a step forward and bending over then taking a step back. Each string of commands lasted about thirty seconds. When she completed one without an error I told her that she was making me proud. When she made a mistake she got a single cane stroke across her rump. It only took her 4 cane strokes for her to stop trying to anticipate my orders and do only what she was told. I worked her hard and though I used a cane to keep discipline it was actually an act of kindness. She needed a mental break and couldn’t possibly perform as I was demanding and think about anything at the same time. By pressing her hard I temporarily forced the experiences of the night to the back of her mind and gave her a rest from dealing with them. For my own benefit, by making her show such total obedience I reinforced her surrender and the fact that it was coming as a relief conditioned her to accept it even more deeply.
Once she got 4 sets in a row right, I added an even greater sexual dimension to the exercises by making her masturbate and play with or abuse her nipples as part of the drill. She got the first five of those in a row without error and so I began also asking her questions as she performed. That was harder for her. By this time she was entering a state of real submission and she not only had to move with precision but concentrate on speaking as well. When I asked if she had enjoyed Mey Chun’s fisting she admitted without hesitation that she had. When I asked if she wanted me to fuck her she said that she did but got a stroke for stopping to think about it before answering. For the finale I had her stand up straight with her hands behind her head and look into the mirror to see her own eyes. Then I asked her what her real name was. She answered Mary and got a cane stroke.