by Alan Horn
Finally, I divorced Jack. I gave up wealth, comfort, status, fine living for lust and sex and pain and orgasms. I went away with Morris, changed my name back to my maiden name and never saw Jack again. I wished I had just come clean with him and told him what I needed. Even if he divorced me, at least I wouldn't feel bad for keeping him in the dark about my needs and why I left him. Morris hadn't lasted long either. He traveled all over the country for work.
Then I noticed he was staying out long after work and found out he was sleeping with other women. I confronted him and he told me it was over and I had to leave. I was quiet and resigned, and after he went to sleep, I stabbed him with a butcher knife. If I couldn't have him, no one would. Now I will die in this place. Oh, well, I deserve it, if not for Morris (the rat) but at least for what I did to Jack. I hope he's happy now that I'm gone.
When I was young, I had a small dog, Maxine. She was so small my mother wouldn't let me take her outside to play unless she was on a leash. Our backyard was small and had a fence. Mom said she could squeeze through the slats in the fence and run off and be lunch for rats or wolves. I am Maxine. I am locked up and can't go outside. Because I am thought to be dangerous and might harm someone. I am the negligible pet of society. Tiny and all but forgotten. Kept on a short leash.
It wasn't all bad. I didn't have to work at some menial, boring job . I would never have, or even see money again. My clothes and food, and everything else came when needed. But God it was boring here. Always the same ugly people, the same lazy, fat guards waddling outside her cage. The same shitty food day after day. And I hardly ever got any pleasure.
Chapter 3 - Plans
Dr. Benoit was at the lectern and said, "Gentlemen, We are starting a new program to treat a new class of inmate. The government has approved this program and classified it secret. You have all signed your security papers, so do not speak of it to anyone outside the program. There are severe penalties if you do.
The treatment is new and has been successful on the ten patients who participated in the trials. Since it is new there may be modifications as we continue to learn. There has been a recent and serious surge in a type of patient we have not seen before. They are all female. The odd thing is that it's not women in general, it's a certain kind of women. They age from eighteen to thirty, unmarried, with few sexual relationships. Most are well educated, often employed, pretty, with strict parents. And they are committing violent acts against parents, co-workers, friends.
None of our standard treatments had any effect.
We developed a hypothesis that these women are destabilized by our changing society. Their bodies were giving them sexual desires. But society was forbidding sexual activity except for reproduction.
In short, the only treatment that has worked so far is to turn these women into completely dependent . Our program conditions these women to associate obedience pleasure and disobedience with pain. They are happy and devoted to pleasuring their masters.
We teach them that pain and pleasure are just the opposite ends of strong sensation. We blend them together so that causing them pain leads them to sexual release. We free them from guilt and decisions. They are helpless and they love it.
The training only takes about two months. We are just reinforcing a woman's natural instincts. At the same time we cancel out a bunch of societal taboos that conflict with the instincts. The women usually show resistance for a couple of days. They change to acceptance for a couple of weeks. They are happy for another couple of weeks, and show loving evangelism for the last month.
Over the millennia of our development as a species men grew stronger and larger than women. When an early man wanted sex with a woman he just forced her to comply. Women developed a coping mechanism to cut the discomfort. It is natural for a woman to become aroused when a man forces her to have intercourse. When a woman receives pain from a man, her body prepares for sex. Her love juices flow and her breathing becomes quick and shallow. Her vaginal muscles begin to contract in preparation for receiving his penis. Some women prefer 'rough sex' because it speeds and intensifies the orgasm.
This program proceeds through several stages. In the first stage we make them naked and helpless. We force several sexual encounters on them, with both men and women. In the second stage we make them dependent on their trainers and deny them intercourse.
The training focus is on graceful movement and perfect positions. Also in second stage we train them to be obedient with painful punishment for any infraction. In the third stage we keep them aroused and teach them that pain and pleasure come together. We whip them to the point of orgasm. Most of our girls can't reach orgasm just through pain, although it brings them close. Usually we stimulate their labia or vagina lips to push them over.
Whether to let them climax is up to the girl's responses and the trainer. A girl may be kept on the brink of an orgasm for days. It is a sweet torture and they become affectionate after a day or so. A woman can have many orgasms in quick succession by alternating whipping with stimulation. Many orgasms in a row is draining on a girl, but she can't stop if you maintain the stimulation.
The last stage begins when a girl realizes that we have brought her body back to where it nature had intended it to be. She understands that she is subject to men. In this stage we give her several strong orgasms a day. We train her for household jobs and for hygiene, not easy when you are so close chained. We also instruct her in belly dancing, singing, pony girl techniques, and makeup. Skills a slave uses to please her master. This doesn't take long.
I know this sounds fantastic, but our results are the proof of its efficacy. I am going to introduce you to our first patient, Roseann, who is now my property and you may question her on any topic. George, will you bring Roseann in here please."
I waited in a small room, my nose leash locked to a wall ring. I was curious, but a slave learns patience. A man entered, unlocked my leash from the ring, ordered, "Stand," and led me through the door. I hurried to keep the leash slack. It was painful if I didn't. I saw my master standing at a lectern before ten or so seated men all in white.
I recognized one of them, but did not know his name. I feared correction.. I did not know what they expected of me. Uncertainty often leads to pain for a slave. But my master was there. He wouldn't let them hurt me unless I misbehaved and I did not want to. The man leading me handed my leash to my master. I did not see any position commands from him so I assumed the standing display position, facing him.
He spoke, "Gentlemen this is Roseann. She killed her mother. She was the first person put in this program, six months ago. She responded well and graduated in only two months. Since then she has been living at my house. She is now my property and tells me she likes that.
The government has required that everyone be safe from the patients. The bonds Roseann wears are a result of negotiations between the ministry and us. All participants in the program will wear the same rings and chains as Roseann. As you can see, her wrists and ankles bear short chains to prevent any danger to others. Her collar identifies her as a prisoner and provides a secure anchorage to fasten her. Her rings also serve two purposes.
Her nose ring serves to identify her as a prisoner and to keep her under control. It has a light chain attached to it to serve as a leash and temporary fastening device. This system has been a tried and proven method to control even strong animals. Her other rings are in sensitive areas to permit her trainers and owners to arouse her. Her rings to reinforce her slave status. They show her that she is helpless in the hands of others and controls nothing, not even her own body. Now, she will answer all the questions you have. Who's first?"
I was standing naked and chained before strangers. My master wanted me to tell them my innermost thoughts and feelings. It was humbling, even for me, who has long known I was a true slave. I knew I was not permitted privacy or respect. I knew my body and my thoughts belonged to my master. I loved telling him everything. It felt like I imagined a Catholic confessing her s
ins to a priest. He would give you a way to absolve yourself of them. My master was my God, not my priest. If my actions or thoughts displeased him, he would purge me of guilt with his holy touch. His hands and his whip corrected me. His body granted me a touch of heaven.
I worshiped him. I loved submitting to him. He cared for me and made me perfect. I knew he loved me. I obeyed him in all things as well as I could. I would obey him and tell all to these strangers, but it felt like a whippable error.
Chapter 4 - Costs
It was a warm day. Sir Robert's estate was large with orchards, forest, a formal garden with a maze. There were many sturdy brick structures on it. The main house was three stories of Victorian design. It enclosed a central courtyard one hundred feet long.
A carriage approached and Dr. Benoit climbed down from it. A butler escorted him into the house. They walked through the courtyard to a library on the far side. The library windows looked out on a vast lawn where a boy was tending a flock of sheep.
"Fetch Julia please, Wilson," said Sir Robert. "Right away sir."
Julia
Wilson was taking me to Sir Robert. Wilson led me by the leash on my nose ring. It made me apprehensive. I had worked hard to become graceful in my chains. I always hurried as fast as I could. My masters often forgot my stride was half theirs because of my short hobble chain. I had to take quick, well placed steps and I couldn't look down when the leash was on my nose ring. You'd think they would hear the rapid clatter of my chains and understand what it meant. I think they did and enjoyed teasing me. I couldn't even protest since I didn't have permission to speak. The smallest mistake or misstep and I would hurt since my hands were, as usual, locked behind me. I would fall flat on my face and I'd receive three strokes of the whip for clumsiness! It was the little things like this that were the worst downside of being a slave girl.
I followed my leash into the library and saw my Master sitting in a wing chair reading some papers. I was so glad to see him. He was my anchor, my owner, my Master. He was the origin of my every pleasure and pain. I belonged to him and under him. I rushed to him coming abreast with Wilson, who scowled at me, but I didn't care. I knelt in front of my Master and kissed his feet. I gushed, "My Master, How may I serve you?" Sir Robert smiled and said, "Hello Julia, come kneel here beside me. Face the door please," I knelt and placed my head under his raised hand. I snuggled my head up into his hand and he stroked me.
I was calm and happy. I felt serene and loved. This was where I belonged. I knew my Master loved me and would take good care of me. He was my master and he would take good care of me. He would ensure I stayed fit, punish me when I was bad, help me to be a perfect woman, and give me pleasure and love. I felt alive. Calm, but ready to jump into motion at my Master's command. I was like a coiled spring, full of energy, but controlled and enjoying my submission. I was a true, natural slave and I was home, kneeling at my Master's feet. Awaiting his command and thinking of sex.
My pussy was hot and moist. My heart throbbed with submission. I wanted to pleasure my Master and, of course, receive pleasure back from him. I was so near my Master and couldn't even touch him. I longed to have his penis in me somewhere, my mouth would be nice, my ass would be better, but my pussy is, by far the best. My discomfort was palpable. I could remember the taste of his come from last night, and I wanted more. I wanted to suck and lick and milk him dry.
What is wrong with me, all I can think about now is sex and submission. I used to be able to think about a book, an author, a play, beautiful clothes. Now I'm a slave. All the time, I'm thinking about sex. When I'm waiting for an order, or obeying an order, going to sleep, waking up from sleep, I think about sex. And I can't even beg for it. I can't speak unless given permission. I could jump into his lap and smother him with kisses. I'd get a whipping for sure if I did that. But, a whipping always makes me feel hot and sexy. But the initial pain is bad. Maybe if I just brushed against him by 'accident' and moaned.
I watched as Wilson brought Dr. Benoit to see my Master. It's nice to see a familiar face. I wonder how Roseann is doing. I hope he brought her with him. She's my best friend. I hope she's all right. The Doctor is looking good. I wonder if her would like me to service him? I hope so, I like his taste too. If he pets me I can push against him. Show him I'm ready and willing. If he comes close I can kiss his feet or nuzzle his leg. Rats, he sat down. Rats.
“Good afternoon, Sir Robert, said, the Doctor.
“And to you Rene. How was your trip?” inquired the Industrialist.
“Uneventful, but dusty.”
“I know. We have to put some serious thought into improving our roads since we have so much more traffic than in the past.” “Now what brings you all the way out here?”
“I have had a thought that might be to both our benefit, but before I get into that, how has your ward worked out?”
“Come now, Rene, let's not mince words. You mean my slave, don't you?” Sir Robert was stroking my bowed head. I smiled at Sir Robert's description of me. I love it when he calls me "my slave," my belly churned and I got wet just hearing the possessiveness in his voice. Every submissive bone in my body quivered with joy when he acknowledged his ownership of me.
The Doctor said, grinning. “Setting identifiers aside, how is Julia working out for you?”
“Wonderful, wonderful. I don't know how I survived without her. Last night, I whipped her and I still have a hard time believing just how good it feels to whip her. I mean, before I had her, I thought whipping a girl was a cruel and barbarous torture that I would not be capable of doing. I was so wrong. It was fun, A wonderful joy to watch her squirm under my whip. And she enjoys it too, she had four orgasms and begged me to continue when I stopped.
Why isn't everyone told about the joys of the whip? I took her to bed and fucked her senseless after the whipping. I unlocked her hands and we both got cleaned up. I locked her hands back in reverse prayer and put her in bed. She fell asleep the instant her head hit the bed and I looked at her for a while. She was peaceful, so beautiful, sleeping the peace of the blessed. All the while she was a helpless sex slave, completely submissive to my every desire.
Standing there, a question occurred to me. It has been many years and much has changed since we abolished slavery in this country. We never enslaved white women. How did you come upon the idea of instituting slavery as a cure for homicidal women? It seems preposterous until you see how well it has worked."
I'm sure I glowed with submissive pride, I was the best! I thrust my breasts out just a little more. I made a tiny increase in the arch of my back and widened my knees but I didn't make a sound. Boy, would that get me in trouble!
"It was a difficult problem," said the doctor. "Made worse because only a few of the women who came into my care were of the new sort. I had many clues on what was wrong with them, but did not see an answer. It was a friend of mine, a physician from an Arab country, who provided the solution. He had some old books from his country. They were manuals for husbands and slave owners advising them how to keep young women content.
We say the psychological problems of these young women are lust, hormones, and chemistry. The books all agreed that the cure has four essentials. First, keep them so restrained that they conclude there is no possibility of escape. Second, reward good behavior with sex. Third, always whip them often and for punishment whenever they deserve it. Fourth, never, never allow them to make any decisions. If they try to change your mind or support a preference of theirs, you must punish them. This is our program and the results are stupendous. All young women should be slaves. I remember one book advised men to value their women and cherish them, but never trust them. It appears your situation with Julia is acceptable?"
Not trustworthy my poor striped ass. I would never do anything my Master didn't approve of. Well, OK, I do play a little trick every now and then, but just enough to get him to warm my ass. Never anything bad.
Sir Robert thought a moment, then said, “ I've had no problems at all
. My staff was nervous at first, but they have relaxed over the last few months. Now they are relaxed with using her and moving her from place to place. They feel safe working with her. I have instituted a strict care regime that eliminates much of the early uncertainty. ”
“What does Julia think about her circumstances?” asked the Doctor.
“Julia” said Sir Robert, “how do you like it here?
I raised my head and looked at Sir Robert. My collar and nose ring shifted and I felt a flash of heat in my belly. I felt my breasts raise and my rings moved, filling me with arousal. “I love it, Master," I said, "I am your willing and obedient slave. I am grateful you have taken me out of that horrible asylum and I love obeying and serving you in every way that I can.” And I meant every word.
“What do you think about your nudity and chains?”, asked Sir Robert.
“I am content, Master," I said, " I am used to having no clothes and I have grown fond of my chains. When I look at them or hear their sounds I grow warm with my submissive feelings. When I was free I was always afraid. Afraid people would find my actions offensive. Afraid my opinions would cause others to judge me naive or crude. Always afraid of men for their strength.
Now I am helpless and not afraid of anything. I was afraid because of things I could not control. Now I control nothing and am not afraid of anything except not being pleasing to my Master. That is something I can control. My world is much simpler now. I would not lose my chains. I believe all women would be better off if they were slaves. If my Master lets me have his daughter, I would ask he enslave her too.
Because of my past actions, no one could trust me if I were not helpless. I want everyone here to feel safe. I would do anything to avoid going back to the asylum. I can't hide anything and my chains make me helpless. I am always watched or locked to something. Escape is not possible and even if I could anyone who saw me would return me here.