Owning Professor Ballard Pt. 05

Professor Ballard woke up on her stomach on her bedroom floor. She was naked and collared. She ached all over. Her hands were cuffed behind her back. She lay still in the coolness of the morning. It had been a rough three days. She heard Kendra snoring lightly in the bed above her.

She craned her neck and looked up at the clock on the nightstand. It was time to wake up her mistress. It was Wednesday morning. They both had to be at class at eight o'clock.

The professor rolled herself over on to her side, then rocked herself up on to her knees. Her mistress liked to keep her slave cuffed during tongue-training. She was getting used to maneuvering herself around without using her hands.

Professor Ballard was getting used to a lot of things.

Like not wearing clothes. Or always being collared at home. Never wearing underwear, even at work. Keeping her pussy shaved. Not being allowed to sit on her own furniture. Having to ask for permission to come. She was even getting used to wearing the medium-sized plug in her ass.

She was having a harder time getting used to the daily whippings.

The professor stood on shaky legs and examined her reflection in the bedroom mirror. Her ass, breasts and pussy were all striped with angry red welts. There were yellowing bruises on her thighs and belly.

Her mistress, Jennifer Parker, was a big believer in daily punishment for new slaves, whether they deserved it or not. She believed that pain was the necessary currency of true submission. Payment was required in full each day. Kendra had been ordered to whip the professor daily. Forty strokes. Ever the over-achiever, Kendra had elected to double the ration, so the professor was punished twice a day, morning and night.

Kendra had been living with the professor for three days now. The pretty blonde switch had been ordered by their mutual owner to act as the professor's live-in slave trainer. It was Kendra's responsibility to get the middle-aged slave prepared properly for the big sorority party this weekend.

Both Kendra and Professor Ballard were going to serve as the entertainment for the new pledges. Kendra had been told that she was the one who would be punished if the professor didn't perform adequately. As a result, the pretty blond junior had been quite the attentive guest mistress.

The training was intense. The new slave needed to learn absolute obedience. Hence the whippings. She also had to accept her new role in life. She was now property; a sexual object to be used by others. This is why Professor Ballard started each day with her hands cuffed behind her back and her face buried between the legs of her surrogate mistress. It was her job to wake Kendra with her tongue. The daily ritual helped to remind her of her new station in life.

This is what she was now. A tongue-slave.

As she stood in the morning gloom, the professor reflected on her previous three days of training.

On the first day of her captivity in her home, Professor Ballard had spent over eight hours servicing Kendra with her tongue. She had started with the toes and worked her way up the beautiful coed's shapely body.

The slave had been cuffed, blindfolded and plugged the entire time. Kendra explained that this would help concentrate her senses on the task at hand. She was told to focus all of her energy on her tongue and only her tongue. She had lapped and licked and flicked her way up and down Kendra's body until the wet, pink ribbon of muscle in her mouth was quivering with fatigue.

Then she had licked some more.

The professor's technique was very good, but that wasn't enough. A tongue-slave also needed to achieve the proper level of endurance. This could not be taught. It had to be attained gradually and methodically through hours of patient practice.

This is why Kendra had timed the slave's lingual exercises to the minute:

One hour spent licking and sucking the toes of each foot.

Three hours devoted to licking pussy. Two hours eating and worshipping ass. Thirty minutes lapping each armpit.

The professor was a very eager student. The crop helped, of course. But it soon became apparent that the older slave had a natural affinity for oral service. She had an unusually long and limber tongue. By the end of the first day of her slavery, she had learned to waggle it well.

Kendra had been so impressed with Professor Ballard's tongue that she had phoned Jennifer on Sunday evening and suggested the new slave be named after her most useful anatomic appendage. After all, a slave needed a name. The older slave was kneeling at Kendra's feet as her temporary mistress spoke on the phone to their owner. She heard her raven-haired mistress laughing musically on the other end of the line as decided on her new slave's name. It was soon settled. The new slave would be called Tongue.

The next day, Tongue was cut back to just four hours a day of oral service. The other time was devoted to punishment and obedience training. She was whipped and spanked and cropped on her breasts, cunt and ass. Her nipples, labia and clit were pegged with old-fashioned thick wooden clothes pins for hours at a time. She exercised under the crop. She was introduced to hot candle wax. She was trained to beg for her punishment. The slave was also systematically degraded and humiliated.

She learned how to crawl properly. She ate her meals out of a bowl off the kitchen floor. She masturbated for Kendra's amusement by humping herself against her mistress's shin. She learned how to make herself squirt by fucking herself with a wooden spoon, then lapped her drippings up off the linoleum floor. She spent thirty minutes each night kneeling in the corner of the den with her nose pressed against the wall and her thumb shoved up her ass as her mistress watched the evening news. She was fisted. She was toe-fucked in her ass and foot-fucked in her cunt. She licked Kendra clean after she peed, begging each time for the privilege.

It had been a busy three days.

The training worked like a charm. The older slave took to her new life like a fish to water. She was indeed a born submissive. She participated eagerly in her own debasement. She discovered that it made her wet to be treated like a whore. She began to physically crave abuse.

Professor Ballard loved being owned.

The only thing she didn't like was the pain. She wasn't a pain-slut.

Not yet.

The slave snapped herself out of her reverie.

She straightened herself in the quiet bedroom, stretching her back as best she could with her hands bound behind her. It was time to get started.

No sense in putting it off.

She climbed nimbly up on to the bed, then leaned down and shimmied herself forward on her stomach until she was under the covers between Kendra's legs. Then she lowered her face to the familiar smooth pussy and began to lick.

As usual, Kendra awoke slowly.

After about five minutes, the blonde student began to grind herself slowly against the competent tongue of the professor.

She came five minutes after that.

Tongue was getting good at her job.

After letting the slave lick her clean, Kendra gently pushed the older woman away from her crotch. Tongue immediately slid off the bed and kneeled on the floor with her head bowed. Kendra lolled in bed for a few more minutes, then rose languidly and circled around behind the kneeling slave. She quickly disconnected the fastener holding the leather wrist cuffs together behind Professor Ballard's back.

The professor rubbed her wrists with her hands for a few seconds, then stood and assumed the inspection position in the middle of her bedroom with her legs spread wide and her hands laced behind her neck.

It was time for her morning whipping.

Kendra remained unselfconsciously nude as she circled her slave slowly.

Finally, the blonde mistress spoke for the first time.

"What did we end with last night? Udders?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Professor Ballard softly.

Kendra leaned forward and cupped Professor Ballard's left breast. There was still some scabbing around the edge of the nipple.

"Hmm. Let's give these a rest then."

The blonde bent down and examined the slave's pussy, prodding it roughly with the fingers of her right hand. The professor winced, but held her position.

"Still raw, but at least the broken skin is starting to heal," she said clinically. "I got a little carried away last time. I think I'm going to leave your cunt alone until the party. I want you to look pretty down there when you're on display. Let's do the ass, then. An ass always looks better when it's striped anyway."

"Yes, ma'am," said the professor.

"Bend over. Put your hands on the bed. Ass up."

Tongue did as she was told.

Kendra walked over to the dresser where she had laid out her various instruments of torture when she moved in to the professor's bedroom last Saturday night. She reached down and picked up a benign looking thin flexible shaft of blonde wood. It was about three feet long and couldn't have been more than a third of an inch in diameter, like a skinny curtain rod. She swung the cane several times in front of her, like a fencer warming up before a match. The cane made a loud swooshing sound in the quiet room. It bent like a fishing rod as it described a short, vicious arc through the air.

The professor maintained her position bent over the bed as the blonde mistress approached her from behind. Out of the corner of her eye, the slave caught a glimpse of the cane. She shuddered.

Kendra reached down casually and prodded the plug in the slave's ass, then gave it a gentle tug. The tight ring of muscle was loosening nicely. She had been wearing the medium plug to sleep for two straight nights. It was time to move up to the next level.

Kendra re-seated the plug in her slave's ass, then stepped back and widened her stance. She bowed the thin length of wood between both palms and paused for a beat to savor the moment. She smiled. This would be the professor's first taste of the cane. Ouch.

"Count them out, Tongue."

The first stroke fell. Professor Ballard screamed in the pre-dawn darkness when the first impact landed.

It took only two strokes for the slave to realize that a caning was by far the most painful punishment she had yet endured. The cane was much worse than the crop or the flogger. It was even worse than the thin, braided whip her mistress used to sting her clit. The cane was agony. Each stroke was like discovering pain anew.

She almost lost control of her bladder by the tenth stroke. On the fourteenth stroke, she felt the plug starting to slip from her ass as her anus twitched spasmodically from the pain. She grunted through her tears and clenched her sphincter fiercely, trying desperately to maintain her hold.

If the plug fell out, strokes would be added. Many strokes.

She held on for forty strokes. Barely. By the end, as usual, Professor Ballard was hoarse and crying, but this time she had counted every stroke.

She was learning.

When the beating was over the slave held her position as she had been trained. Her shoulders were shaking as she sobbed silently. Kendra put down the cane, then bent and hugged the older woman's flanks. She soothed the slave's burning bottom with soft kisses.

"There, there, it's over. Such a good girl," she cooed.

The white globes of Professor Ballard's ass were criss-crossed with dozens of thick, purple welts.

Kendra waited a few minutes for the slave to recover her senses.

Then she patted Professor Ballard's rump lightly and reached down and pulled the plug unceremoniously from the slave's ass. There was an audible plop. The professor groaned as the large head cleared her sphincter.

The time for sisterly bonding was over.

"Alright, cunt, stop your mewling. Clean this," said Kendra brusquely, pushing the plug in to the slave's mouth.

Professor Ballard immediately stopped sobbing and opened her mouth to accept the large rubber plug. She was used to this daily indignity. She recalled how she had balked the first time Kendra tried to shove a used butt plug in to her mouth.

That particular misstep had initiated a rapid, extremely unpleasant cascade of events. That was how her pussy got raw. She had no problem sucking the plug clean now. No problem at all. As Professor Ballard cleaned her plug, the pretty blonde mistress reached down and inserted two fingers in to her slave's sodden pussy from behind. She expertly fucked the older woman to a brief, but intense orgasm. The mistress smiled as she watched the slave's dilated anus pucker involuntarily as her orgasm took her.

After a moment, Kendra reached over and removed the plug from the slave's mouth. She held it up and examined it closely by the light of the bedside lamp. It was clean.

The slave was learning.

She dried the plug on Professor Ballard's hair, then placed it neatly on the nightstand. She grabbed the slave by the collar and brought her roughly to her knees, then sat on the bed.

Professor Ballard looked up at her mistress.

"We're going to bump you up to the large plug today. You'll be wearing it to class," said the pretty blonde.

"Yes, ma'am," said Professor Ballard softly. It wouldn't be the first time she had gone to campus thus adorned.

Kendra spread her legs wide.

"But first I want you to do me again. A good caning always gets me hot."

The professor crawled forward and bent to her task. She kept one eye on the clock as she licked.

It was almost time for school.