Ginger's Training Ch. 3

Ginger lay seated on her rear upon the cushions of the soft leather chair with her arms bent up above and behind her head. Her wrists had been tied together and then tied again to the large cement beam that stood a foot behind the chair. Her ankles had each been separately tied and stretched wide apart to opposite walls so that her knees rose over the armrests of the chair and her soft, creamy thighs were forced painfully open, her privates exposed and fully available. Her voluminous breasts hung down, unrestrained, over her open crotch like a pair of ripe and juicy melons, each jiggling slightly back and forth with her every breath.

A thick, linen gag had been tied deeply between her teeth and knotted cruelly at the back of her neck. It muffled her cries enough to render them inarticulate and indecipherable, not that it would matter what she had to say or how loud she could be. There was no one to hear her. She was alone with her tormentor of that she was sure.

She had quickly learned that he enjoyed listening to her garbled protests and that the more vocal she succeeded in being, the more aroused he would become. She had tried to remain mute and deny him the satisfaction of listening to her fruitless pleas for help. But he had an endless array of sadistic techniques for stimulating her sore and fear-wracked body into giving him just the response that he demanded. Hot wax dripping from a candle onto the soft, pink skin of her vagina would make her buck and squirm and plead with her terrified, soft, blue eyes, while a riding crop sharply and repeatedly smacking across her smooth, round bottom would quickly reduce her to heaving sobs of despair and defeat. Whichever method (or methods) he used he would always enjoy her distress as if he were savoring a fine wine or deeply appreciating some great work of art.

He was most certainly appreciating her. Once he had thoroughly terrorized her, he would once again plunge his cock into her moistened cunt and begin pounding away. He would fuck her either from the front or the rear, lying down, sitting or standing up. Sometimes he would sit underneath her in the overstuffed leather chair and squeeze his massive cock into her tight little asshole while savagely gripping and mauling her huge tits between his fists all the while listening with consummate pleasure to the violated young thing squealing and shrieking into her gag, salt tears pouring out of her shocked and pleading eyes.

Ginger's world-view had changed somewhat in the past few days. Her expectations were rapidly changing to fit in with her new life. In her former world a bad day would have been defined as one in which her flight to Hawaii for a photo shoot was delayed or she discovered that her penny-pinching agent had booked her in coach instead of first-class. Now the rare moments when her cunt wasn't being invaded and abused in some way seemed like heaven to the tormented young beauty. It seemed that every waking moment held some new degradation for Ginger as it became apparent that her new life was to be utterly subject to her captor's insatiable and sadistic drives.

He had tied her into her current position almost twenty-four hours earlier. During that time he had raped her half a dozen times in between hours of relentlessly molesting her with honey, whipped cream, and a variety of dildos and butt plugs. Finally he had slapped his penis between her delicious breasts, and given himself a long, luxurious tit fuck until his jism spat out onto her face and chest, sticky little droplets dripping down from her heavy eyelids. Her thick lashes tried to blink away the tears and cum that were blurring her vision as he gripped her chin in his powerful left hand and forced her to look up into his eyes.

One corner of his face cracked into a sinister smile. His tone changed from one of self-indulgent, sexual gratification to one of interrogation. It was as if he sensed something in her demeanor that was in some way distant or removed.

"Cry for me slave. He demanded, " I want to hear you cry."

Ginger only looked up at him in exhausted, blinking, bewilderment; all hope gone. What more could this monster possibly want from her? The sharp sting of the riding crop across her left breast made her wince and immediately she began to wail piteously. He roughly gripped her right breast and began to squeeze and pump it with his fist as he leaned in next to her ear and spoke to her.

"You see, these delightful little sucklings are not yours anymore. They are toys for me to amuse myself with." For emphasis he brought the crop down to deliver a series of sharp, painful whacks to her abused tit. Ginger was sobbing so hard that she was choking and wheezing into the gag, her delicate fingers twisting franticly in the merciless ropes that held her wrists. His hand moved down between her legs to roughly seek out her clit and grip it tightly between thumb and forefinger as he continued to speak.

"And this delicious little hole here." He said as he plunged all four fingers of his right hand into her pussy up to the knuckles and twisted, "Is mine, to explore and enjoy, any time that I wish!" Ginger tried to buck and twist away but his hand in her crotch pinned her to the chair and he continued with his speech.

"But all of that is meaningless," he said while gripping her breast again, "It is all meaningless if I don't have your attention."

Suddenly, he began to savagely beat her plump mounds with the riding crop again and again, raining down blow after stinging blow onto her defenseless chest. Ginger screamed in panic and hysteria as each stroke left its fiery red welt across her agonized chest. He seemed to want something from her that she couldn't comprehend. She was beyond resistance, now her only driving thought was how to appease him, to make him stop. Suddenly the whipping ceased and his powerful voice rang out.

"So, do I have your attention?" he said.

Ginger was too stunned to respond at first. Her heaving, mountainous orbs were racked with wave after wave of boiling pain throbbing at her temples and buzzing like a raging fire across her smooth, supple skin.

Again the crop whipped down mercilessly with a sharp, stinging sound.

"I said, DO I HAVE YOUR COMPLETE ATTENTION?"

She instantly sucked down her sobs to franticly shake her head up and down, to let him know that she understood, to beg him to stop hurting her like this.

Ginger knew that she was in his power completely. She knew that there was no help for her. She was on her own and whatever her fate was to be would be decided by this sadistic maniac before her. Ginger could understand that if she was going to be able to keep her sanity intact through this ordeal she would have to find out how to give this animal whatever it was that he wanted. Unfortunately for our hapless heroine exactly what that was seemed to be changing constantly.

He seemed to be satisfied by what he saw in her eyes now. He took her chin in his hand and turned her head to the side to gaze at her profile while she wept with abandon like a penitent little girl. The Master leaned in to her ear and whispered softly, almost tenderly:

"I don't require that you love me slave, only that you FEAR and obey me."

His hand raised the riding crop back again as if to strike. Ginger was so terrified that her entire body was shivering pitifully. With a sudden and intense spasm of fear she even lost control of her bladder, which emptied its contents out from between her quaking and splayed open legs to splatter on the cold cement floor of the room.

He looked down at the wet floor and then into the wide eyes of the quaking, sobbing girl.

"Perfect answer!" he said, laughing at her humiliating display. He was still laughing when he left the room, turning out the light and leaving the devastated, young, beauty in the darkness to worry over the future.

To Be Continued...