48 Hours on Blue Bayou Pt. 31: Three

"Please, Ma'am, how is this related to our duties as slaves?"

"My dear, your question shows that you are thinking about what is happening and how to progress in your new life." That's putting a very positive spin on it. "You will find, as you progress, that the practice of yoga is of great benefit. It tones your body and strengthens muscles, which ordinary training doesn't reach. Also, you will find that many of the sexual positions are quite similar to yoga postures. Most of all it, conditions your mind to be receptive to events which you might otherwise find unpleasant."

She is proven right almost immediately as we are introduced to the "Bow," the most difficult position to attain. When you bend completely backwards, arching your body, hands flat on the floor behind your head; that is the Bow. It is like a frozen somersault and allows your Master to appreciate every part of your body. We start with a reduced version, from a kneeling position, feet together and knees wide apart (of course) then leaning back whilst thrusting the pelvis up.

Five proves to be the supplest, making a reasonable fist of it. My first attempt ends with me in an undignified heap, and a cramp in my leg. Everyone dissolves into giggles. Well, of course, I don't get excused class for incompetence, so I have to repeat and repeat until I more or less achieve the Bow.

I could be a gymnast, if I ever get out of here!

Over the next few days, my back heals and the ache diminishes, not that I get any more lenient treatment. There is a routine of training which goes on relentlessly. We slaves struggle mightily to perform, my back being an object lesson to the others. We are generally doing a rotation of Positions and Movements and Gym. Amazingly, all of us seem to be pleased, rather than resentful, at achieving the standards set by the trainers, and happy to be praised for each small success or accomplishment.

Kama Sutra for Dummies

After a few days of Fitness Training and Positions and Movements, comes our introduction to Sexual Arts. We are ushered into another large room, though not as big as the dance studio. There are three other girls already there, kneeling in a row, in Position One. I wonder where they have come from. Is there, perhaps, another Intake Unit in this building? I realise that I have no idea how large this place is; I haven't seen the outdoors since we arrived. One, Five and I join the row.

The Head Trainer is a bit older than any of us, late thirties, possibly even forty, with an air that combines frostiness with that of a Mother Superior. She inspects her new pupils, wielding her crop like a Field Marshall's baton and walking around us until she is satisfied with our kneeling positions. She launches into a speech.

"Good morning, slaves. I am the Sexual Arts Director. You will address me as "Ma'am." Most of you have been designated as personal body slaves, which means that sexual arts is the most important part of your training. Some of you may think you are unfortunate to be slaves, even doubly unfortunate to be sexual slaves. Let me tell you this is not correct. There are millions of slaves in the world and the vast majority of them are much worse off than you are. We will train you to be the most seductive and desirable slaves in the world.

"If you are successful, you will mostly likely have an indulgent lifestyle, without too much hard work, the lifestyle of someone who might once have been called a courtesan. But if you are uncooperative, you will be corrected physically, and I see that one of you has already discovered that. That a slave answers with her (or his) body, has been the rule from antiquity. If you misbehave, we will not send you to the naughty room, or put you in prison; that would be unproductive. Rather, you will get a series of corrections, which may be painful, but when they are over, they are over; your record is wiped clean. Your errors will not be held against you."

I'm not sure whether this information is reassuring or depressing. I am dreading this moment, when I will most likely confront the demands which brought on my rebellion and ended in my flogging. It's not that I don't like sex, but I do like to have a say in the who and when and where.

Another realisation comes. All we slaves are naked — which I have sort of gotten used to — and I can't see any areas in the room which would allow any privacy, so we will be performing sexual activities in front of each other. I can feel a flush, starting somewhere around my loins and heading rapidly for my face. From the corner of my eye, I can see that the other girls are thinking much the same way. There is some fidgeting all along the line.

"Slaves, I know what's going on in your heads," says Ma'am. "Every new slave who comes here to me is thinking exactly the same thing. The answer is 'Yes!' You will be performing sex acts, nude, in the open, because often that will be what your Owner wants. What would be the point of owning a beautiful sexual slave and not showing her off to your friends?"

The first session, with an Instructor, is, fortunately, not too confronting, being an introduction to male and female sexual anatomy and arousal. Also, control of arousal, because slaves don't get to have orgasms without permission. Some Masters, we are told, never allow orgasm. This little gem of information arouses my sense of injustice, so I tentatively raise my hand for a question. I get permission.

"Please, Instructor, what would happen if I couldn't control my orgasm?"

A low murmur in the audience shows I am not the only one concerned. The Instructor turns the question back.

"What do you think might happen?"

"Please, Instructor, a flogging or a caning?" I suggest.

One of the new girls says, "Miss, she could be cut."

This comment causes an uproar. Another of the new girls doubles over and starts to sob; her shoulders heave and her arms are over her head. Five shouts out and almost breaks position. We are all jittery, especially me, because I don't really know what has set off this reaction.

Ma'am appears in the class with a look of astonishment on her face. I'm wondering if I'm in trouble for triggering this outburst. Ma'am takes in the scene for a moment, then goes to comfort the sobbing girl. She holds her close and strokes her back until her sobbing and heaving subsides a little. The Instructor whispers something in Ma'am's ear, and somehow Ma'am and the Instructor get the new girl up, signal the other "foreigners" to follow, and take her out of the room.

Within a few minutes, Ma'am returns, looking serious. Without preamble, she says, "These new slaves, who I know you have been curious about, do not belong to your Owner. They have been sent here, by their Masters, for training, because we are acknowledged to be the best trainers in Sexual Arts. The slave who broke down has recently been circumcised or 'cut.' This means that her clitoral hood and the tip of her clitoris has been removed."

Now, I'm horrified. Mostly, I'm terrified that we, too, will be 'cut'. Ma'am continues.

"This will not happen to any of you. We do not do this at The Enterprises, but it is a common procedure in many parts of the world, so we often encounter it. That operation certainly helps control the orgasm, but it doesn't make it impossible to experience sexual pleasure. We will train that slave in other ways to achieve orgasm, when permitted. Remember, your most important sex organ is your brain; use your brain to achieve and control your orgasms. That particular slave is being counselled and will train separately from now on; the others will return in a few moments. Lastly, do not be harsh on the one who mentioned cutting; she herself is circumcised and regards it as normal."

This unscheduled drama puts a damper on proceedings. Even the Instructor seems put out, for she abandons anatomy in favour of positions for sexual intercourse, which she calls the Making of Clouds and Rain. There are literally dozens of positions, based on the Indian book of Kama Sutra and the Taoist Pillow Book. We have to learn them all, though the Instructor does say that most of them are really for exhibitions of skill and are rarely used. Many of them have poetic names, like "A Silkworm spinning a Cocoon" and "Seagull on the Wing;" others are not so poetic, as "The Goat Hugging a Tree" or "Cat and Mice Sharing a Hole," or simply descriptive: "Old Man pushing a Wheelbarrow." If you've ever, as a child, taken part in a wheelbarrow race, you'll get the idea.

Positions for the woman are either active or passive: face to face or rear entry (man on top, woman on top, side by side, rear entry), making four groups of positions that can be changed and combined for an almost inexhaustible variety. Who would have thought this sex slave business was so complicated?

We are paired off to practice some of these, alternatively taking the male and female parts. Since there are now only five students, the Instructor also takes part. It turns out The Goat Hugging a Tree isn't as bad as it sounds. In fact, it's rather gentle: sitting on your Master's lap, on a chair, you get penetration, but only just, and there is not much scope for movement. However, your Master can easily stimulate your breasts and clit, should he deign to do so.

Besides actual sexual positions there are also exercises, called "Kegels," to strengthen our pelvic floor muscles. First, of course, we have to achieve some control over muscles which most girls don't even know exist, unless they have incontinence problems. Instructor says that some women, using these techniques, can lift weights using only the vaginal muscles. Fortunately, we don't have to do this!

The benefit of these exercises, for Masters, is that it can intensify a man's orgasm and the slave may even be able to bring him off with only vaginal contraction. I can't imagine why this skill might be necessary, or even useful, until, during a break, one of the outside girls whispers to me, "You might be tied up and completely immobilised, but still have to satisfy your Master."

Oh!

Playing the Jade Flute

After a regular warm-up in the gym, it's time to move on to the next part of Sexual Arts: Oral Sex.

This is the part that I am dreading most, since my experiences when I was first taken. As usual, the Instructor begins with a description, mini lecture really, of what we're going to do, followed by a demonstration. A slave girl and Instructor, or maybe they are both slaves, do the whole thing from go to whoa, while I gape, unable to tear my eyes away. I can feel that I'm again going bright red, to match my hair. You might think I would be beyond blushing by now, but though I'm getting used to nudity, I haven't seen any actual sex until now. They seem to be totally unembarrassed by performing sex in public. Well, I suppose they would be — it's not really in public and we are supposed to be watching. It's all part of the job description.

While the performance unfolds, the Instructor tells us some of the names for the male organ. The Turtle Head, The Strong Adversary, Red Bird and — this one can only have been made up by a man — Heavenly Dragon Pillar. Names for the female organs, as you might imagine, are somewhat less grandiose: Jade Pavilion, Open Peony Blossom. To tell the truth, I am getting rather turned on by the exhibition, and I'm hoping someone will stick their nose, or whatever, in my Peony Blossom before long.

We each get a soft plastic, not totally soft actually, artificial penis, mounted on a block which can be stood up or laid on its back. This means we take up the positions we will eventually use on the real thing. We also learn a new name, as the Instructor says we will learn to play the Jade Flute. I always thought Jade was green, but apparently it can also be whitish cream. Not that I'm an expert, but it looks pretty anatomically correct, including scrotum and surrounding bits.

Instructor underlines the importance of etiquette in Oral Sex, especially holding your Master's cum in your mouth, waiting for the order to swallow.

I venture, "Please, Instructor, that is probably the most humiliating thing I can think of."

"Not at all," she replies. "It is not intended as humiliation. The humiliation comes from within you, because you have been conditioned that way. Think of it as showing a mark of respect for your Master, who keeps you and provides everything you need."

They have an answer for everything. I say no more.

The performance begins with manual stimulation of the scrotum and perineum, some licks along the shaft, particularly the underside, then taking the tip into my mouth. Up to this point, it is fairly easy, except that it is cold at first and tastes like plastic, but when I try to take more, the gag reflex cuts in.

The Instructor sees that I am having difficulties and comes over. She rubs my back.

"Hey, Honey, it's okay. Just relax a bit, you can do it!"

It's so nice to be called something other than "slave." I tell her all about my last experience with dick sucking. I'm a bit tearful.

"I don't think I can do it. I'll throw up again for sure."

"Okay, take a few deep breaths. Now, take a little bit at a time — there's no hurry — in fact the longer the better, if you know what I mean. Breathe through your nose and try not to swallow, that tightens up your throat. Pretend to yawn and keep your tongue flat and poking out of your mouth a bit."

She massages my throat, and murmurs encouragement, as I finally get most of it to disappear.

Ma'am's eagle eye picks up this variation of routine and comes to check. She listens to the Instructor's report and decrees that I need to spend more time on deep throating. One, Five and the others get to practice on the male Instructors, but I spend half an hour longer on the plastic dick. Finally, Ma'am takes me aside and says, "I've got something here which will help you. It's the very latest technology."

She shows me another artificial penis that looks so life-like, as if it really has really been cut off some poor guy. I grasp it — it's warm! I let go in alarm. Ma'am chuckles.

"Yes, it's heated, and it has lots of little sensors embedded, which set off noises or alarms if you're pleasing or hurting it. It's a Talking Dick." She grins.

Another ten to twenty minutes on this technological marvel, until I get more moans than beeps, and Ma'am goes, "Hmmm...okay." I guess I have managed a "C."

Over the next few days, we go through a pretty relentless rotation of oral sex, for males and females, and the sexual positions. We get to try out the positions with male Trainers, and the Instructors have set up some screens, so we are allowed a little privacy for this. I find that, despite myself, I am getting some pleasure and actually enjoying it. The outside girl who freaked out on the first day has rejoined us and seems to be much happier. I guess that the special training has reassured her. We all had a group hug.

During the breaks for hydration and nutrition, we are allowed to talk. Mostly we just chatter about our hopes and fears and our past lives, but I get a few words with the girl who set off the uproar. Her English is not good, but I learn she is Kurdish, she thinks the circumcision is no big deal because nearly all Kurdish women are circumcised. "They can't cut the inside place." I think she is referring to the G spot. She says she has been a slave since she was ten. "They don't call it slave, but is."

At the end of the day, the Instructors are giving little tips of technique and all seem more relaxed. I get the sense that the course is coming to an end. Sure enough, Ma'am comes in to tell us so, and that we have all passed the course.

The "foreign student" slaves are sent back to their own Masters, with some hugs and "good lucks" from us and from the Instructors. The three Enterprises slaves are lined up, in Position One, waiting for a final word from Ma'am.

"Slaves, you have finished your introduction to Sexual Arts course, and I am pleased to tell you that you have all performed very well. Not everything is perfect, of course, that would take much longer to achieve. I am pleased with the efforts you have made to learn the techniques. If any of you go on to become body slaves, we will no doubt see you back here for advanced training. Soon, you will be given your first assignments, because up 'til now you represent only expense to the Enterprises. In order to justify your purchase and training, you will need to perform valuable duties within the organisation. I wish you all well."

As one, we say, "Please, Ma'am, thank you, Ma'am."

Graduation!

The Royal Male

We are often separated now, after the morning gym warm-up and workout, for different classes depending on our progress. One day, Five tells me that she has been having hours of intensive English language in a language lab. She is certainly speaking more easily.

Today, as I am returned for the evening, there is a change in routine. As I am checked into the Security Station, the Security Chief says, "Slave, there is a new inmate in the corridor tonight. You are not to discuss or make any comment about this individual." I swivel my head around to catch a glimpse of the subject of this strange order. Of course, any change in routine in the slave corridor is going to be a big deal. There is a man in one of the cells!

I maintain strictly "eyes front" until I am locked in my cell, whereupon I can't help stealing a covert look at him though. Is he a slave? He has a rather haughty look and is not shy about staring at me, with that look on his face. And he is wearing clothes, I think indignantly. Why should he have clothes when none of us do?

He doesn't last long in that state though.

Shortly, a crew comes into the corridor wheeling a huge tarpaulin-covered machine. They position it against the bars of the man's cell and remove the tarp as they fix it to the bars. It is a gynecological table, complete with stirrups! Alice in Wonderland has nothing on this place. What on Earth is going on?

Three Guards enter the man's cell and bring him out to the table. The Guards move him to the bottom of the device and start to undo his handcuffs. Working together, the Guards get him on the table, remove his shoes and socks, and strap him in place. Two Guards with shears cut his shirt, pants, undershirt, and shorts away. They bring a basin of water, some soap, and a shaver and proceed to shave off his pubic hair.

Julie is brought out of her cell and starts to caress his thighs, his abdomen and around his hips, slowly zeroing in on his pubic area. I observe that she can play some really classical tunes on the Jade Flute.

My eyes are just about popping out of my head. What is this all about? Is this guy a slave? Is he a Master with a special kink? He is calling out some fairly crude greetings, which are studiously ignored. I can't process what I'm seeing. This is the most bizarre thing I have seen since I got off a bus and fell down this rabbit hole. Julie is arousing him, keeping him erect, but I can also see that she is cooling him off as well, preventing his orgasm.

The Food Cart arrives, so no conversation, while we eat. The guy doesn't get anything except some water. As soon as dinner is over, we are clamourous with questions, but we won't get any answers until after the third cycle. Third cycle, what is she talking about?

Some time later — an hour perhaps — the guy gets another session. Again, he makes some off-colour remarks, which, if he is a slave, will probably get him more corrections.

When it comes time for the third session, there is obviously some kind of hiccup. There is some conversation and activity in the Security Station, phoning and entries into computers. At last the man is taken off the table and taken back to his cell.