Bound For The Tour 2: Inside The Ropes

by Commander James Bondage

  “What about shoes?” Kit asked. “Do you have spikes for us?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t need ’em,” he said. “The only time you need golf shoes for a normal shot is on wet grass. You’re better off learning to swing barefoot. This way, you’ll have to develop good balance, just to keep your feet from slipping out from under you, and once you learn that, you’ll never have another off-balance swing.”

  “You’re the boss,” Kit said, shrugging. The girls stretched for a few minutes, and then took their time selecting clubs before getting onto the practice tees. For next two hours, they peppered the sensor screens with shots, sending simulated balls sailing out into the simulated fairway. Kit had a little trouble adjusting to playing barefoot at first (to say nothing of playing bare-everything else), but she soon got the hang of it. She even started to think that Traynor might actually know what he was talking about.

  Kit and Dana were both sweating when Traynor called a halt. “That’s enough,” he told them. “It’s time for you two to shower up and get ready for lunch.”

  Kit, who thought she had hit the ball exceptionally well, was a little disappointed that he had not said anything about her performance. “Well, how did we look, Mr. Traynor?” she asked, hoping for some sort of compliment.

  Traynor, who had begun to walk away, turned back to face her. “You are aware, I suppose, that no cunt who trained with me has ever failed to become a success on the Women’s Professional Golf Tour?” he asked

  “Of course,” Kit answered. This was the very reason she had volunteered for a year of slavery under him.

  “Well, I haven’t failed yet…” he said, looking at her sourly, “…but I suppose there’s always a first time,” he finished, and turned away.

  * * * * *

  Kit discovered that lunch with Roderick Traynor was not exactly what she had expected. Instead of sitting at the table with him, she and Dana were obliged to serve his meal to him, and stand beside his chair to be fondled when they were not fetching the next course.

  He had the two beautiful young women bent over the table on either side, with their legs spread open, while he alternated between bites of his veal cutlet and fondling them intimately with his fingers. “You two bitches are lucky I’m a man of my word,” he said, taking the opportunity to expand on his earlier remark to Kit. “Otherwise, I might just play the penalty clause, give you your money back, and send you about your business elsewhere.”

  “But… ah… I’m a national… nationally ranked amateur… oooh…” Kit protested as Traynor casually teased her.

  “So… so am I… oh my, Mr. Traynor, please…” gasped Dana, as her hips began to orbit around the cleverly working fingers. “Is there… ohhh… really so little…ahh… hope for us?”

  “You’re not totally hopeless, no,” he conceded reluctantly. “And there is an upside to working with a pair of greenhorns like you two. I’ve never had a chance to build a player from scratch, or from as close to it as you are. In the past, they’ve always come to me with bad habits I can never quite get rid of. But you…” Here he pinched Dana’s sharply between his fingernails, making her jump and yelp, “…and blondie here are young and malleable enough to be turned into my kind of golfers. Plus, I have a feeling you’re both going to be excellent fucks, once I teach you the ropes.”

  Kit correctly suspected that this last phrase was not merely metaphorical but was meant quite literally. That night, after dinner (during the course of which Traynor manipulated them both to the brink of a climax several times, and then left them hanging), Kit was ordered to report to Traynor for “sexual evaluation”.

  “I can’t get the most out of you when I don’t know your baseline responses,” he told a nude, blindfolded Kit as he tied her hands together over her head. “But judging by how quickly you became aroused for me at lunch and dinner, I going to guess right now that you’re an even bigger slut than big sis, and she was a one hot fuck. Open your legs.”

  Kit heard something whisking through the air nearby, and she began to tremble. Then she felt something stiff and smooth with the coolness of leather traveling up the inside of her thigh, and sliding across her sex, where it began to saw back and forth.

  “Your sister discovered she had a real taste for submission when she got here, did you know that?” Traynor asked. “A little rope and a little spanking, and I had her begging for it.”

  “No, I didn’t know that,” Kit answered. “I never asked her about her sex life.” She stopped before adding that he was a liar, and that she did not believe the self-confident, strong Emily could ever have become the pathetic sex toy he described.

  “Yup,” he continued, “after a couple of nights here, all it took to get her motor running was to tie her up like this and…” She felt the object, which she guessed was a crop, slide over her sex once more and then away from her altogether. The braided leather rubbed her sex in a way that was disturbingly exciting. “…what do you know?” he exclaimed, obviously pleased. “It looks like it runs in the family. Here, take a whiff.”

  Kit sensed that Traynor now held the crop (if that was what it was), directly under her nose. She inhaled, and smelled the unmistakable evidence of sexual arousal, her own arousal. Her face suddenly became hot as she flushed in shame. How could it be so easy for him to manipulate her? She wondered if Emily had felt as weak and easily controlled in Traynor’s hands as she did at this moment.

  The crop was now toying with her nipples, which both became aroused as a result of the attention. “Have you ever been spanked, or received any corporal punishment, from your parents or anybody else?”

  “No,” she said. “My parents didn’t believe in it. Anyway, they died when I was eleven. Emily raised me, and she never laid a hand on me in anger.”

  “Much as I suspected,” he said. “You are a typical child of the modern era: unspanked and undisciplined. Fortunately, it is not too late to alter both of those conditions.” She heard the swishing sound again, and then she jumped and screamed when the crop lashed down on her unprepared rear end, writing a burning line across the upper parts of her buttocks.

  “Ow! Fuck!” Kit shouted. “Why the fuck did you do that?” she demanded.

  “First of all, you will at all times in the future address me as ‘Master’ during these sessions,” Traynor said. “Second, you are not permitted to speak without specific permission from me, and especially not to ask questions. Violation of either rule is a punishable offense.” This said, he began to lash the helpless Kit with the leather stick. “Third,” he continued, as he chastised the naked flesh of his writhing victim, “to answer your question, I did it because I felt like doing it. I don’t need a reason. You are my fuck-toy, and you will take whatever I dish out, and say ‘Thank you, sir’.”

  Kit twisted and spun desperately under the assault, but she was completely defenseless, unable to even see what part of her body he was targeting.

  “Eeee! Eeee! Stop it, please!” she shrieked. “I didn’t… ah! Fuck that stings!... I didn’t know the rules… goddamn it! Owww!...”

  “After this, I imagine you’ll have no trouble remembering them,” he said, as he struck the lower part of one of her breasts with a hard uppercut from the crop, making the punished flesh quiver and bounce.

  Traynor stopped after ten minutes, took a firm grip on Kit’s hair at the roots, and bent her head back forcefully. “Spread your legs nice and wide now,” he ordered. “Show me your pussy.”

  This was the one place she had not been beaten so far. “But… I’m afraid… you, you’ll... hit, hit me… down there, M-master,” the sobbing Kit hiccupped.

  “If you don’t obey me instantly, I’ll hang you upside-down, and you can find out what twenty strokes of a car aerial down there feels like,” he promised menacingly.

  This threat was sufficiently terrifying to bring the balky Kit to heel. Reluctantly, she moved her legs apart, exposing her golden-haired mound for whatever Traynor intended. Her fears, at least this
time, proved groundless. Instead of the leather staff slashing her tender womanhood, as she had feared, she felt Traynor’s hand cup her sex and then start to explore.

  She was shocked when his fingers found her most sensitive spot and a wave of pleasure washed through her body, making her moan with pleasure and sending her pelvis into an involuntary, sinuous dance. The whole thing was completely impossible, Kit told herself. It was insane. Traynor had tied her up and beaten her naked body with a riding crop. How could that have aroused her so much that she was on the verge of exploding after a few touches of his fingers?

  Traynor sounded almost as surprised as Kit, although he was clearly more pleased than she. “Your whore of a sister got highly aroused being tied up and ordered around,” he said, “but spanking never got her as hot as this.”

  Kit felt his hand move away from her sex and sensed it was near her face. She moved her head forward to touch it with her lips, and then she screamed when the hand pulled away and returned to slam into her cheek and made bright lights explode behind her eyes.

  “Do you want to be fucked, slut?” Traynor snarled. “Beg me for a nice, hot fuck.” His hand returned to her pussy, and he started to flick back and forth with a fingernail. The sensation was so overwhelming that Kit thought she must be losing her mind.

  “My God, yes, yes, fuck me!” she screamed. “Please fuck me, Master! I beg you to take me!”

  Traynor moved around to stand behind her. “Ass out, legs wider,” he directed. Kit heard the sound of a zipper, and then felt something stiff and warm rub up and down between her buttocks. Traynor’s fingers were busy again with her sex for a moment, and then emerged and moved to between her buttocks.

  “Maybe you would prefer it here,” he suggested, jamming in two slippery fingers as he said the final word. Kit shrieked, “No, no, not there, please, Master!”

  Traynor’s cock was now pressing against her sex. “I’m tempted to try it,” he told her. “You’re so worked up that I’m not altogether convinced you could tell the difference at this point.” He twisted his fingers, inducing a wordless scream, and then said, “However, there’s plenty of time for that. You begged for a fuck, and you shall have one.” While he continued to torment her rear with one hand, he directed his rod into her pussy with the other.

  Kit had found her one previous experience with sexual intercourse pleasant, but unremarkable. She had nothing against fucking, but she could not see what all the fuss was about. Now, as Traynor filled her, she began to get a better idea of the appeal sex had for other people. She had never imagined that anything could feel as good as the orgasm that exploded after just a few strokes from him.

  He was far from finished with her. He gathered up her breasts in his big hands and pulled her up on the tips of her toes by her nipples. “How do you like it so far, my little blonde, all-American slut?” he asked, his face an inch away from hers. He made a little thrust with his hips, and she gasped.

  “Oh, God, Master, it’s wonderful, feels so good, I never knew…” Kit babbled in a delirium of pleasure. Her hips orbited around his manhood as she implored him to continue. “More, please, fuck me deeper, Master.”

  Traynor smiled. “You WASP bitches are supposed to be cold fish, but I think you may just be the hottest little cunt I ever fucked,” he said. He began to move in and out of her again, slowly at first, then faster and faster, until Kit shrieked, “Harder, fuck harder, you motherfucker!” as she erupted again. Traynor eventually came, unable to hold back any longer when Kit’s muscles gripped him as she was shuddering in the throes of her third orgasm.

  By the end, she was soaked with sweat, mentally and physically drained and rubber-legged. “Not bad, considering this was just an initial evaluation,” Traynor remarked. “Once I teach you a few tricks, you will be one hot little whore. I bet you’re looking forward to that.”

  Kit thought back on the things she had done and said over the course of the preceding hour, and hung her head in shame. “Yes, Master,” she said in an exhausted monotone, “I can’t wait.”

  Chapter Six: Friends

  Traynor escorted Kit back to the room she shared with Dana (“I normally give you cunts separate rooms, but since you two are such infants, you’d probably get home-sick if you were alone, and I expect to have enough problems without that,” he explained, in his usual charming way).

  Dana was lying in bed awake when Kit came in. She jumped up in alarm and went to Kit immediately when she saw her roommate’s welted body and tear-soaked face. She wrapped her arms around the weeping blonde girl, and embraced her in a tight hug.

  “My goodness, what happened to you Kit?” she asked. (Dana had been brought up very strictly, and had never used obscenities, profanity or even the word “damn”.) “Did he hurt you very badly?”

  “No, no, that part was nothing,” Kit answered. “Here, let’s sit down.” When Dana started to release her to make it easier to sit on the bed, Kit quickly said, “Don’t let go, please. Keep holding me.” As she said this, her arms went around the dusky girl’s waist, and she drew Dana even closer.

  Dana stroked Kit’s hair, and waited patiently with the other girl’s warm flesh pressed against her own, trying not to think about the strange feelings the contact was arousing. After a few minutes, Kit stopped crying, raised her head from Dana’s shoulder, and said, “Thank you. I really needed someone’s arms around me just now.” Her mouth was very near to Dana’s, and her breath was warm and fragrant. Dana knew she should be thinking about comforting poor Kit, but she was distracted somehow.

  With an effort, Dana remembered that she was holding the beautiful blonde girl in her arms to ease her distress. “Do you want to talk about it?” Dana finally thought of something to ask. “It’s OK if you don’t. We can just sit here as long as you like…”

  “No, it’s fine,” Kit said. “I can talk about it. I’d like to, if you can stand listening to my whining. But don’t let go of me. I feel so much better when you’re holding me.”

  Dana’s hand continued to stroke Kit’s hair. She noticed how fine and straight the golden strands were as they flowed through her fingers. She also noticed how soft her roommate’s skin felt where it pressed against her own. “I’ll listen to you as long as you want to talk, Kit, and I’ll hold you as long as you need me,” she answered. She demonstrated how seriously she meant this offer by twisting her torso around until her upper body was facing Kit’s, and squeezing her tighter until their breasts were pressed together and their cheeks almost touching.

  “It wasn’t the beating,” Kit said, not appearing to notice how physically intimate they were becoming. “It hurt all right, but I could stand that. It was the way it made me feel, the way he controlled me, how he made me respond to whatever he did, like a trained seal. He hurt me, Dana, he tied me up and hurt me, beat me like a dog and it…” She paused, remembering.

  “Yes?” Dana asked, breathing the word softly in her ear.

  “Oh, Dana, it excited me. It got me aroused and made me crazy for him,” Kit blurted. She started to cry again, and clutched at the other girl, oblivious of the effect she was having on her companion. “He made me beg for his cock,” she said. “I begged him to fuck me. He controlled me, mind and body. I did whatever he wanted, said what he wanted. He said…” She broke down, unable to continue.

  Dana was almost a complete sexual innocent before she met Traynor. She was still a virgin, and she was remarkably ignorant about sexual matters for a modern 18 year old. Had she been a little more sophisticated about such things, she might have hesitated before initiating any “lesbian” activities, but all she knew of such things was the word, and nothing about what it might mean in practice. The only thing she was sure of was that she wanted to comfort the forlorn, weeping blonde girl she held in her arms, to kiss away her tears, and that she wanted to do it more than she had ever wanted anything she could remember.

  She gently lifted Kit’s face with her hand. “Poor Kit,” she murmured, “poor, poor, l
ittle Kit.” She moved closer until their lips were touching.

  Kit’s eyes flew wide open in surprise and she stiffened, just for an instant. Then, almost immediately, she relaxed and pressed her mouth against Dana’s, gently at first, then so hard that their lips were mashed together and their teeth touched. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, while her tongue sought entrance to Dana’s mouth. Kit sighed happily when the other girl sensed what she wanted and allowed their tongues to mingle.

  It seemed that in no time they were lying side-by-side on the bed, each girl’s hands busy caressing the other’s body, her lips moving over her companion’s face.