The Further Training of 'S' 3: Each time we meet I shall beat you!

Chapter 3: Each time we meet I shall beat you!

‘S’ was deeply asleep snuggled within the warm caress of her clinging black latex nest oblivious to the happenings in the training room in preparation for her next visit.

The Trainer was laying out the equipment necessary to complete the programme. Back in the study the Mistress and Master were discussing the progress of the sleeping slave over a cup of coffee. It was late morning and they were totalling up the demerit chart of her and the resident female and male slaves.

“It seems we have a developing relationship between ‘Lizzie’ and our novice slave, even the application of a gag for 24 hours has little effect on her, she has I do believe taken a shine to ‘S’ and it seems the feeling is reciprocated. We can use this to good effect in due course but at the moment we shall allow it to continue. I am keen to impose the strictest regime on ‘S’ as she has all the indications of being a true natural masochist. The report from her Master was very revealing, I am delighted with her progress to date,” the Mistress continued, “I have already broken her down and she is compliant in my hands. The recording of her conversation with Lizzie was revealing. It is obvious that she takes a great deal of pride in the bruises she has as a result of the beating I gave her, although she has yet to master the art of turning pain into pleasure from the start. I had to use the vibrator on her to bring out the masochism in her, I shall see her again in a couple of hours when she is least expecting it. At the moment she is sleeping deeply I checked on her via our surveillance system. I will have her taken to the punishment room and strapped to the cross facing the whipping bench”.

“I shall enter dressed so she does not immediately recognise me and proceed to handle the various whips whilst informing her that I shall beat her each occasion she visits me. She will still be sleepy from the short sleep period as well as both hungry and disorientated and will not be expecting it. She will be gagged as she is taken to the training centre but I shall remove it once she is there and have told her she is to be beaten”.

“Her bottom will still be very tender and she will, I believe, try to resist the inevitable by any means at her disposal. I shall allow her to speak to me and give reasons why I should not beat her. I shall enjoy playing with her and hearing her pleadings. I will allow her to think she is winning me but just as she thinks she has I shall make it difficult for her by re-gagging her and informing her that I am not convinced. I will then release her arms as though she is to be taken to the whipping bench, this will massively increase her anxiety levels. However I shall then inform her that she will have one last chance to convince me, but will have do so via the pad and pencil I shall hand her. I shall of course break her down to a pleading weeping slave but will appear resolute in my threat; ultimately I shall inform her that her pleadings have been pathetic and she will be beaten immediately! She will be terrified because of her self fuelled fear and hurt. I will however be reasonably soft with her but she will be her own worst enemy expecting a sound thrashing. I’m really looking forward to this one”.

“Once I have finished I shall have her taken back to her cell for a short rest and then she will be fed. As she is put to bed she will probably believe that she will be allowed to rest as before but she will not. After a very short period in which she may well fall asleep she will taken once again to the training room and will know from past experience, that she will be beaten again, this will raise her anxiety levels to fever pitch. I shall play on this then quite out of the blue send her off to the sauna for a heat treatment. This way she will soon learn that I am completely unpredictable and ruthless. By the end of this session she will be completely exhausted and fully broken down. Three and a half days will have passed and she will be ready for imposition of a proper regular training regime. You know I am really looking forward to our next session.” It was obvious that the Mistress took both time and effort in devising the psychological paradigms of her training routines.

“You will let me know when you require my input won’t you?” replied the Master. “I can see you are determined to train ‘S’ to the highest levels before you return her to her Master at the end of the training period. He will be visiting this weekend to see how the training regime is progressing and I know you want to impress him with a good report.”

“Once I’ve finished my drink I will go off and prepare myself for my next meeting with slave ‘S’.” They continued chatting for some time enjoying each others company and the regime they had devised over the years. Having two permanent slaves in their household as well as two part time Trainers kept them both busy and fulfilled.

Entering her dressing room the Mistress went over to the stool before her dressing bureaux with a large mirror atop. The seat on casters was unlike any normal piece of furniture; it was much larger and completely covered in shiny black latex with red trim. The seat was shaped and cushioned rather like a saddle and from the centre of the padded surround projected the latex head of a human form. The head had a blindfold strapped in place and two breathing pipes issued form the nostrils trailing off to the side of the seat. The mouth was gagged. The Mistress walked over and stroked the head gently with her gloved hands; the head moved imperceptively, it was obvious that there was a human held within.

The gag was unbuckled and removed and saliva wiped away to be replaced with the insertion of three latex gloved fingers deep into the open mouth. The captive held within the stool eagerly began sucking on the fingers as if their life depended on it. No words were spoken; the silence was palpable. After a few minutes the fingers were withdrawn. The blindfold was removed to expose wide eyes behind misted vinyl lens. The eyes were almond shaped and brown and were those of their female slave Lizzie.

She had been taken from her cell some hours ago after attending to the slave in training and placed into the cramped chest. This was her punishment for her over familiarity with the new slave. She was now held immobile in a tight kneeling position with her head pulled back at an acute angle by bondage straps from the top of her helmeted head to her bound ankles. She was fully suited with a remote controlled vibrator inserted. The chest was double latex lined and had been inflated to maximum pressure to hold their slave immovably in place. Only her face was exposed at the padded hole in the saddle like seat.

The Mistress spoke, “So my fine maiden we meet again! You have work to do; your release from this stool depends on your tongue I am feeling in need of tongue worship from you before I attend to my slave ‘S.’ You will provide me with pleasure as you reflect on your containment, do you understand?” As the question was rhetorical there was no need for an answer. Lifting up the multi-layered latex skirt she positioned herself over the waiting face of her slave as she did so she revealed that she was naked under the skirt. Her slave glimpsed the glistening Pudendum of her Mistress before she was enveloped in darkness. The aroma of her Mistress combined with warm clammy latex was the invitation to extend her tongue and begin pleasuring. The Mistress began her toiletries applying heavy make up and crimson red lipstick.

The slave now fully engaged on her task breathed in cool air via nostril tubes and concentrated on providing her Mistress with total pleasure. She was excited to be engaged so intimately and took it as a sign of her Mistresses approval of her disobedience. The Mistress began brushing her long dark hair and taking increasing pleasure from the delightful sensations of tongue service she wriggled her body to increase the pleasure, her breathing increasing. Long slow strokes of the hair brush through her thick hair gave her a deep satisfaction. ‘Only I have the luxury of hair on my head my slaves are shaven to signify my control over them and to emphasise that they are mere objects of servitude, fully rubberised and contained knowing that they will remain so as long as they are under my control as my slaves.’ The sexual feelings now fuelling her imagination as she built towards the first of many pleasures she was to take before releasing her tongue slave.

‘S’ was now strapped immovably to the hated whipping bench her bottom offered up to the fearsome unseen Mistress; only the sound of the heavy stiff rubber crackle of the beating coat could be heard as the arm raised and fell repeatedly onto her centre of pain. She was so hot contained within her slave suit without one millimetre of exposed flesh to allow for the dissipation of heat. Yet as the blows continued she gave herself over to the endless kiss of the whip and began to accept the pain as a gift from her tormentor taking pride in the knowledge that she was but a rubberised object who had no part in the decision to beat her. Her task was to take anything which her Mistress chose to give her. She was increasingly able to turn the pain into pleasure and was able to hold onto these thoughts for some time before she was struggling, her breathing was becoming increasingly difficult and the pain had taken over she fought to accept the pain, to gain release but nothing happened. She screamed and screamed but no sound emerged; no notice was taken and the endless pain continued. She was now desperate to gain more air but was unable to do so; she was totally out of control.

Chained by her slave collar ‘S’ was deeply unconscious as the trials of the earlier training took their toll. Suddenly she was wide awake enveloped in a lather of sweat gasping for breath within her blindfolded world of rubber containment. The nightmare had overtaken her and in her thrashing in her bed she had covered her mouth with the latex sheet. She sucked in great gasps of air around her inflatable gag opening her mouth to its fullest extent, the images of the nightmare still clear in her mind. She began to cry feeling so alone and desperately wanting her Master to hold her in his strong embrace. The words of the Mistress echoing in her ears, ‘Each time we meet I shall beat you!’ She was fearful and distressed her bottom was so tender and she knew she would not be able to take the next beating. She had no idea of the time or whether it was day or night and she was ravenously hungry. She lay wide awake now trying to gain some sort of control. Eventually she drifted off to a fitful sleep; taking some pleasure from the aroma and warmth of her latex enclosure.

The Mistress took pleasure after pleasure as her sexual appetite now unquenchable demanded more from her tongue slave. Underneath in the dark clammy confines the tumescent engorged clitoris and labia lips were being teased by the adroit tongue of their serving maid who was now deeply masochistically committed to the task demanded of her. As another pleasure rippled through her Mistress she took pleasure knowing she was being of service. Her unctuous ministrations continued unabated. She was almost smothered by the full contact of her Mistresses vagina against her open mouth her tongue darting in and out eager to please as it probed the fecund organ. The dark musky scent of her Mistress filled both mouth and nostrils as she tasted the honeydew moisture and inhaled the cloying scent of pure arousal through the narrow rubber pipes leading from her imprisoned head to the latex underskirts cascading down over the stool in which she was held immobile. The air was warm and stale but it was not something which she had any control over. Eventually the Mistress raised herself from the stool and turning to her tongue slave smiled a knowing smile and without another word reinserted the gag making sure it was fully tight and buckled. She stroked the glossy wet face of the slave’s helmet with her gloved hand then replaced the blindfold. Once that was done she spoke, “Slave that was delicious you are coming on well; I shall return in due course and you can serve me again.”

......................................

Finally fully dressed the Mistress posed in front of the full length mirror admiring her outfit. She was the epitome of the Dominatrix she wore thigh length boots with 6” heels in glossy black patent leather, a pair of latex stockings held up with eight suspender straps, a white fully ruffed high necked long sleeve mistress blouse. The sleeves were drawn in tightly over a pair of black latex gloves. Her bust was tenting the blouse which was tightly drawn in by a black heavy weight corset she was wearing. She had donned an exquisitely tailored black latex helmet through which she had drawn her long dark hair into a flowing pony tail held tightly in the clinch at the top back of her head. Her heavily made up eyes shone through the eye openings, red lips pouted through the mouth opening. She was wearing a heavy weight full length black latex cloak with high collar; in her hand she carried a riding crop with silver binding at the handle end. She looked every part the classic cruel Mistress. This would instil the necessary level of fear into her novice slave. Turning on her heels she walked over to a telephone and spoke into the mouthpiece. “Collect slave ‘S’ and take her to the Training room; bind her to the cross making sure that she completely fettered then await my further directions.”

It was in the early hours of the morning the CCTV monitor attended by the un-named latex enshrouded figure of a female showed the sleeping novice slave. The figure lifted her fettered wrist and wrote something on the pad in front of her then returned to her watchful state.

The Trainer unlocked the cell door and moved silently towards the recumbent figure of ‘S’. He touched her gently on the shoulder; she was lightly asleep and stirred as she pulled her sleep deprived body to wakefulness. Her first thoughts were ‘another day of training and I’m so tired; the night was so short and I’m so hungry.’ She was unable to put her thoughts into coherent sentences she knew she had no choice other than to give of her best and at least she did not have to be self motivated to self administrate her own enema and the meditation. She had no idea who had woken her or what this period of ‘Training’ would bring although with sudden realisation she heard the words of her Mistress within her mind, ‘Each time we meet I shall beat you!’ No clues as to the identity of who had woken her were available and she was so tired and hungry that she really couldn’t focus on gaining any answer. Once the heavy rubber sheet had been removed she sat up in her warm latex nest and felt the tug of the chain attached to her slave collar then the sound of the ‘click’ as the padlock released her from her tether. She was still in complete darkness and had been kept thus since her 24/7 signing. ‘Stand up slave it is time to begin your Training and we must not keep the Mistress waiting otherwise we shall both be in trouble. First you will need to use the bathroom then we must hurry along to the Training centre.’

Leaving her cell ‘S’ was taken along corridors to her appointment with the Mistress she was full of anxiety in her silent dark world of rubber encapsulation as the words of her Mistress kept repeating themselves in her tired mind. The Trainer led her by the lead attached to her slave collar towards her fate. The single touch as she had woken was all the human contact she had experienced and she felt very alone. She was the object to be trained as one trains a pet. She desperately wanted the touch of another human; if that touch was only to be gained associated with the imposition of pain then that would be something she consoled herself with. In her exhausted state muddled thoughts were taking over her normal rational thinking.

She took some consolation from the kiss of fetters as she was strapped to the cross, at least she had the touch of another human; her unknown trainer as the straps were expertly tightened to the point of total immobility. Finally her forehead was strapped back to the upright of the cross leaving her without one millimetre of movement. Then she was left, no external stimuli entered her dark world, she was alone waiting whatever was to befall her.

Straining to gain any sound ‘S’ was unsuccessful and resorted to her own mudded thoughts. ‘At least I am not to be beaten and the corset doesn’t seem so tight now; I must be slimmer and that is all to the good! I wonder when I will be allowed to see again, I’ve been gagged most of the time since I got here and I know the Mistress loves the idea of keeping her slave silenced. Their female slave is constantly gagged and seems to accept and enjoy the imposition. ‘Lizzie’ is so kind and I know we have a special relationship as fellow slaves, her warmth and support have really helped me to cope with the regime here; now what?’ Then it came to her like a bolt from the blue, ‘I am here for training to become the perfect rubber slave to my beloved Master.’ She swooned at the overwhelming feelings of love for him; she felt her vagina spasm as she revelled in the knowledge of this reciprocal love.

‘Yes I’m a 24/7 rubber slave now and I fundamentally need the rubber encapsulation which that implies. I am here now because of this need to realise the fantasy I’ve held for, it seems ever. Although I’m undergoing unremitting training and are frightened by the prospect of being beaten I know deep down that it is this continuing stressing of me that both deeply interests and excites me. I am on a journey of discovery into the most esoteric aspects of total dependence on another human being. This is my destiny and I am here to fulfil my role as my Master’s slave.’

‘S’ tried to wriggle in her bondage and found she was unable to move. She was held like a fly in amber. ‘I’m dressed in my favourite material held tight in the continuous embrace of latex bondaged fettered waiting for the Mistress to appear at a time of her choosing; I am her rubberised plaything and although I dread the whipping she will inevitably give me I am ready to accept it as a rite of passage. I only hope I can take the pain and turn it into pleasure. Lizzie seems to have mastered the necessary process. I must model myself on her; yes that is what I will do.’ ‘S’ was now focused and eager to face the new trials which her Mistress would exact upon her.

How long ‘S’ had been on the cross she had no idea her only means of telling time passing was gained from the gnawing hunger deep in her empty stomach and the growing ache of the tightened fetters which held her fast. Judging from this she estimated that she had been on the cross for at least an hour before she was aware of the presence of another. Whether this was the Trainer or slave or her Mistress she had no idea.

Suddenly she felt the touch of another as a finger was lightly drawn across her breasts. Immediately she was brought back to face the possibility of receiving a beating at the hands of her Mistress. This caused her anxiety levels to surge and her breathing to increase as she prepared herself for this possibility. However the touch had answered her desperate need for human contact and her body unbeknown to her was responding. Her nipples now engorged with blood were straining against the latex covering her breasts exhibiting the message of sexual arousal. This did not go unnoticed and the teasing increased as her nipples were held then squeezed between gloved hands. ‘S’ moaned into her gag and the sound was registered. Then to her dismay the fingering stopped. She was left bereft wondering if this was the end of stimulation and she would be left alone again. This constant teasing was having an effect on her anxiety levels. She had no clues to help her prepare for this. She knew she was a plaything but this knowledge was of little consolation to her. ‘Please, please give me some clue as to what you have planned for me in this session I can’t bear the suspense this is the worse part of the training and I just can’t take much more of it!’ but she did, as try as she might she could gain no clues to the identity of the perpetrator of this fiendish teasing.

Her mind now took over and just as she had done whilst moving towards her destiny with her lover/Master her fertile imagination was now fully in control. She began to panic and struggled to no effect save that of confirming that she was indeed held fast and had no control over the proceedings. A patina of sweat lubricated her slave suit further increasing the slip of latex across her bondaged body and exciting her to further attempts to escape. This cycle was being observed by both the trainer and the Mistress. The Mistress moved in on her prey and began touching and pinching her slaves nipples again. Then stopped and began unbuckling the blindfold. ‘S’ blinked for some time unaccustomed to the bright light after being in total darkness for so long. In her muddled state she reasoned she had been blindfolded since her signing, but how long that had been and how many days had passed escaped her. As she gradually focused her blinking eyes through the misted vinyl lens of her helmet she took in the awesome sight of the figure standing in front of her. She had seen pictures of similarly dressed Mistresses on the internet some months ago whilst trawling for more information about the slave/Mistress relationship and had been overawed by what she had seen.

Now standing in front of her was an unknown figure beyond her wildest dreams! She was disorientated wrong footed and frightened. Here before her stood the perfect dominatrix; her heart began thumping, her throat now dry, she tried to swallow but couldn’t. Her body’s autonomic response took over as it prepared for fight or flight. Adrenaline surged through her sleep deprived body. ‘S’ put every ounce of her energy into struggling in her bondage but the only result was the immediate realisation that she was held fast; escape was impossible. Fight was the next option but again she was impotent. Now she faced the inevitable; completely defeated alone and so vulnerable.

Moving in very close and invading her body space the Mistress began unbuckling the inflatable gag. Saliva dribbled down from her slave’s mouth and was wiped away by The Mistresses gloved hand. Now touching her bondaged body with her full length cloak the Mistress raised a finger in front of ‘S’ to silence any utterance. ‘S’ felt the press of the Mistresses body against her and although very frightened she never the less desired the touch, as an alcoholic desires the next drink.

A cold distant voice somewhat muffled and changed by the helmet she was wearing spoke, “Slave I am here to deal with you in a severe way as befits your low status. I believe you have already been beaten, am I right? Speak now!”

A trembling small voice returned, “Mistress you are right.”

“Slave I am going to give you a chance to avoid the beating I have been asked to give you. You must convince me that it is not necessary for me to do so. I shall of course need a lot of convincing as I am known for my skill in breaking down recalcitrant slaves. Now speak and choose your words carefully as I am impatient and will not accept rambling long winded reasons given to prolong the inevitable!”

‘S’ mind was racing she just had to avoid the beating from this dominatrix. “Mistress, I,… I,…” she stammered “I received my last beating it seems only a few hours ago… I have lost track of time …. My bottom is black and blue and I know I won’t be able to take the beating as I should… I do so want to become a good slave capable of taking whatever is given to me gratefully as becomes my lowly position, but I, I, know that I will let myself and you down if you were to beat me now…..” She knew her answer was reflecting her desperation, but it was as good as she could do in her present state. There was silence and she could hear only her thumping heart. She was consumed with anxiety waiting for the answer. Finally after too long a silence the Mistress replied, “Slave you will have to do much better than that, what a miserable weak excuse! Surely a slave of your intelligence can do better; you insult yourself and annoy me!”

Now desperately thinking to save herself from the inevitable ‘S’ mind registered only panic, clear thought had deserted her. Her next answer and all of the following were weak and muddled. The mistress dismissed them all. Teasing and playing with her charge, she was enjoying the whole game. Eventually after some considerable time had elapsed she again moved in but this time she avoided any physical contact with her slave. She picked up the gag, refixed it and pumped it up to maximum. She noted the eyes of her slave were now panic filled. “Slave I am going to give you one last chance to avoid a beating. “Instructor release my slave’s arms so she can write.” Turning to ‘S’ she spoke again, “you will now compose your reasons and write them on this pad. I shall be lenient with you for the moment, as you are, I am told, a novice slave. You will have six chances to convince me.”

‘S’ arms took some time to regain feeling and use. During that time she desperately tried to think up reasons but by now was so emotionally exhausted her thoughts were slow and treacle like. She repeated many of the same reasons and was ridiculed for feeble reasons. However she kept scribbling delaying the inevitable.

Now at the end of her tether she began weeping full of foreboding her tears trickled down inside of her wet helmet. She was utterly dejected dreading what was to come.

“Take her down from the cross and strap her to the whipping bench! Make sure she is tightly bondaged I want no movement from her I intend to enjoy myself!”

The last chance gone ‘S’ knew she was to be beaten. Her limp body was taken from the cross. She stood head bowed resigned to the inevitable. “Now slave kneel before me and show obedience.” ‘S’ did as commanded and as she did a lone drop of sweat dripped from her helmet. She was helped across to the bench and fettered. The Mistress walked in front of her and removed the long flowing cloak to reveal her exquisite dress underneath. “Look slave and fear me!” ‘S’ lifted her head from the bench and did as instructed; her blood ran cold! The full visual and psychological impact of the Mistresses dress was not lost on her slave.

The ceremonial dressing in the crackling whipping coat took some time the selection of a number of whipping implements added to the charged atmosphere. The sound of whips lancing through the air was agony to ‘S’ Finally the Mistress spoke, “Slave prepare yourself for this beating, you are fortunate to have a gag as this will stop your pleadings as I enjoy myself breaking you down to a compliant and subjugated slave. After this you will be a changed slave knowing with certainty that beatings will be always take you further than you thought possible.” ‘S’ blindfold was refixed plunging her into darkness.

The first lash of the cat of nine tails landed square on the rump of ‘S’ it made a loud crack but the Mistress knew from experience that the hurt would be minimal in terms of actual pain but in her conditioned state her slave would be expecting great pain and would respond as if she had received a really cutting blow. ‘S’ body stiffened in her bonds. The second and subsequent blows kept coming with out a break until fifty strokes had been delivered. Putting her gloved hand on the rump of ‘S’ the Mistress felt the warmth of beating reflected back and smiled to herself. She spoke with the affected cold voice she had used before, “Slave I know you can hear me; I am now going to use another instrument of pain on you. I have a whole array of beating devices which I intend to test out on you.” The psychological aspect of this took its toll on ‘S’ who was now shrieking into her gag begging for mercy she was beside herself with the self induced fear seeded by her Mistress.

As the beating continued she lost all notion of time passing, it was as if she was in a time warp where time had stopped and had no measure. Only the pain filled throbbing of her rear was perceived by her. Then gradually the throbbing turned to a warm glow then to building sexual tension until she was biting onto the inflatable gag and offering her bottom to the crop to gain more sexual relief. Then she was lost to the preorgasmic thrill as her pleasure built blow by blow. From nowhere she felt as if she was about to explode as the pleasure took hold of her; she was lost in the moment of pleasure wanting the beating to go on for ever and to become much harder!

Seeing her slave taking pleasure was the signal to give five really hard stokes of the crop. They arrowed through the air and landed with a lightening crack on her tightly covered bottom; each perfectly placed in exactly the right spot. Each would leave a raised bruise on ‘S’ bottom. She would be proud of these marks once the pain had subsided.

17.10.10