A Slut's Education Ch. 07 - FINALE

Authors' Note : We've said it before and it bear repeating - This is erotic fantasy in a Non-Consensual BDSM vein. The dark turn into abduction, psychodrama and torture that the Authors have taken is a result of our collaborative exploration of dark fantasy. Again - If it helps the reticent reader, try and read Kelli's ordeal as the darkest place her fantasies can go, even deeper than she herself understands ... and Master's torments as a carefully controlled exploration of that place. Our hope, indeed, is that the Epilogue here will put that idea in a new light for the reader.

Or not. Either way, this is *FANTASY!*

DISCLAIMERS : The bondage situations described herein are unsafe , especially when leaving the sub unattended. CHOLOROFORM IS SERIOUSLY DANGEROUS AND SHOULD NEVER BE USED IN BDSM PLAY! Its use in this story is in the context of a purely fictional fantasy of non-consensual erotic adventure and should be read as such.

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Part Five: THE BREAKING ... Continued

THANKSGIVING WEEKEND, MENDOCINO COAST.

**slut**

I want to obey.

Please, please, Master and Mistress, give me something to obey!

If what you want is a docile, subservient sex-slave, I am already that, and I have so much more to show you to prove it. I am your naked slut and pussy-whore, if that's what you want, make me your pleasureslut, paintoy, slavebeast ... whatever ... please, whatever you want. I just want to know what to obey and how to stop the misery and humiliation. Let me prove that all I want is to Please, Serve & Obey!

I am so happy to be unchained from the post by the hot tub and allowed to use my arms and legs. My plugged, muzzled mouth can't tell Master and Mistress how much I want to obey, but maybe my body can!

Mistress Deanna leads me across the lawn by my nose-leash on all fours, making me crawl quickly with her fast pace and hard jerks on my nose-ring. "It is yours to train for the rest of the afternoon," Master told Mistress Deanna, and by "it," he meant me.

Why does that frighten me more than the thought of Master's strong arm with a whip? Deanna has been cold, merciless and abusive with me. The cruel, degrading names she calls me, the sadistic pleasure she takes in hurting me. I do not think I know her anymore.

And yet, why do I love being her little pet, her plaything? As I crawl, free of the C-belt but hobbled again by the chains that run through my cuffs, collar and pussy-rings, when the chains tug at my pierced lips, it excites me. So does being a naked, helpless, captive slave, at her mercy, and Master's.

Deanna uses the metal egg up my ass to shock me and keep me crawling faster. Does she know how much it stokes the submissive fire in my belly, to crawl on all fours at the end of her leash? To show you how fast I can crawl, how much I'm improving? But she doesn't notice. She doesn't care. She just shocks my ass and yanks my nose and lashes me with Master's single-tail. Is she still trying to punish and break me? Why? Doesn't she know I am already her slave?

I want to obey.

Soon, we are in the kitchen, where I kneel on the floor eating my "lunch" of canned tuna, raw vegetables, bread crusts and tap water out of doggie bowls. My hands are chained behind me and I eat and drink like an animal, making a sloppy mess out of my face. I am famished, so I hardly think about the humiliation of my position ... or if I do, it excites me. Deanna mocks me with names like "puppyslave" and "mutt-slut" and "bitch in heat."

My pussy agrees with her.

What have I become?

Next, I am back down in the basement, strapped down on my back across the punishment-bench, my hands cuffed underneath it and chained to my ankles. My legs are spread helplessly and my pussy exposed. Deanna leans over me, unbuckling my dog-muzzle, pulling the rubber plug out of my mouth.

"Ahhhh --" I gasp, my mouth free for the first time in, I don't know how long. "Deanna, please, you're hurting me and treating me like an animal. I thought we were friends --!"

Deanna doesn't say anything, she just looks down with her eyes burning with lust and anger. Then she turns away and walks across the room.

"Deanna, don't you like me --?"

She comes back holding a belt in her hand. She is curvy and sexy in her pink bikini, and she looks down at me and smiles. "Kelli, I don't like you," she says. "I love you."

The strap comes down on my pussy *Smak!*

"Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-eeee!" I scream. "Please, Deanna --!"

"That's right, slave-bitch, that's your only job -- Please Deanna!"

*Smak!* "Aiii-eeee!" My pussy burns from the strike, the hard leather hitting my clit.

"That!" she says as she beats me, "is for not calling me Mistress!"

*Smak!* "Aiii-eeee!"

"And that, is for speaking without permission!"

*Smak!* "Aiii-eeee! -- Please, De -- ahhh!-- Mistress! --"

"That is for defying me this morning in the shower!"

*Smak!* "Aiii-eeee!" She hits me harder on my belly.

"And this ..." Deanna purrs, pulling up the belt, wrapping it up in her hand, looking down at me like the slave I am and the Mistress she is. "This is for being a bad roommate. ... I mean, you didn't clean up in the kitchen, you left your pussy hair in the shower, you left your porn books on the coffee table --"

*Smak!* *Smak!* *Smak!* She moves on to whipping my tits, over and over without mercy. *Smak!* *Smak!* * Smak!*

"Aiiiiii! Aiiiiii! -- Oh Mistress please please pleee-mmpphh --!"

She slides out of her bikini bottom and stuffs the cloth in my mouth, jams it in with her fingers, leaning over close to my face, smiling evilly. "I said I love you, Kelli, and I meant it. I love your naked, helpless body under me. I love to whip and torture and humiliate you, I love abusing you! Mmmmm, and I'm going to love it when I make you eat my pussy until I cum!"

She takes off her top and lets her firm, beautiful breasts pop free. Then she climbs up on the bench, scoots forward, and plucks the cloth out of my mouth. Before I can say a word of protest, she engulfs my face with her steaming hot pussy, soaking wet from torturing me. I can hardly breathe, her mound suffocates me, but I know what I have to do, which is to lick, suck and pleasure my Mistress like the slave I am.

"Mmmmmm, oooh!" she sings. "You remember what Master said, the job he gave me -- to train you to please a Mistress's pussy? So ... mmmmm, ahh, my slut, my slave! --"

I work my tongue and lips as hard as I can, and she pushes back harder into my face. I rattle the chains that hold my wrists and ankles under the bench, but I know I am helpless. I can't stop Deanna from raping my mouth with her greedy pussy. I want to obey. I want to obey and please, I want to get my Mistress off, I want her to cum in my face.

"Ahh!-Ahh!-Ahh! Slave!!" she pants. "Ooooooh-yeah!"

And she beats me as she rides my face with her crotch, lashing my bare leg and exposed pussy with backward slashes of the strap.

*Thwappp!*

Mmgh! I scream, muffled.

*Thwap!* The more she hits me, the more I try to please her. The harder she hits me, the harder I try.

*Thwap!*

Then I remember my training and keep silent even though she goes on whipping me, focusing on her pussy. She is suffocating me, but I do my job with my lips and tongue and try to get my Mistress off ...

*Thwap!*

... and I do.

"AHH! AHH! Ooooooooohhh-YES! IT'S GOOD TO OWN A SLAA-AAAAAVE! AAAAHHHH-FUUUUCCCKKK-YESSSS --!!"

...

... I think I passed out ...

The next thing I know, I am spasming on the bench, my bowels on fire. "Aiiiiiiiiii -- Oh please! Deanna! -- ahh, ahh, I mean, Mistress!"

The shocking stops, and when I open my eyes, I see her leaning over me holding the box that controls the electric egg. No, oh no -- not that.

"That was really good, Slave '283, you got me off hard! But I know you can do better. And in a couple of minutes, you're gonna get the chance to practice again. First, though, you need a taste of what happens if you fail to please me."

Standing over me, smiling like a lust-crazed demon, she twists a dial on the remote, presses a button, and a blast of shock surges through my bowels.

"Aiiiii-EEEEEEEEE! --" My ass is lit up by the shock, stronger than it was out on my leash-walk, and it goes on much longer. My voice-training goes out the window, it hurts so much. "No! No! No, pleeee-ease -- Aiiiiiiiii --"

Then it stops.

"Good slut, you're learning," she laughs mockingly.

She climbs back up on the bench, waving the remote in front of my face. "Now, some pussy-eating tips, '283 ... Starting over, slooooow this time ..."

My eyes wide, my mouth silent, I nod in compliance. I am hungry to learn.

I want to obey.

**MASTER**

I am in the living room dressed in jeans and my favorite pale blue Oxford, with my feet stretched out across the ottoman, working on my laptop and catching up on work. The drapes are drawn across the patio doors, but outside I hear the fierce ocean winds howl and lightly rattle the door frames. A fire crackles in the fireplace, warming and illuminating the room.

Deanna enters in her pink terrycloth robe, drying her hair with a towel. Seriously, does anyone take more showers than Deanna? She is carrying her laptop.

Oh, and I see she has Slave 478-427-283.

Trailing behind Deanna, the slave is nose-leashed, crawling on all fours, dutifully keeping its head lower than its ass as it moves. It is unmuzzled but blindfolded, the thick leather pads strapped to the leather head-harness that '283 still wears from the moment its captivity began. Nice touch, Deanna, the blindfold. Keep the captive-slave confused, helpless, submissive with uncertainty and fear.

Personally, at this point I would have the slave down in the basement, caged and cowering, left alone to contemplate its lessons for this day. But that's just me. Deanna has other ideas. I've given her power over my slave, and I'm interested to see how that dynamic plays out.

She plops down on the armchair opposite the coffee table from me. She slides the hems of her robe open and spreads her legs. Then, tugging with the leash, she guides the '283's blinded face into her open snatch. She stretches out, crosses and relaxes her bare, shapely legs across her pleasure-toy's back. Our Slave '283 plants its leather-mittened hands on the carpet and goes to work between Deanna's legs; I assume it knows its business down there.

But if it's doing that business, its Mistress isn't betraying any enjoyment at first. She closes up her robe over '283's head, stretches back and opens her computer on her belly.

I ask, "Were you pleased with our slave's performance?"

"Well, at first she seemed --"

"It," I interrupt. "It is property. You need to remember to speak that way."

"Don't talk to me like that," Deanna says quietly.

Hmm? I look up from my laptop and squint at her. "Like what?"

"Like I'm a child you have to teach. Don't forget, you needed me to lure Kelli here. I'm your partner in this crime. Don't be so condescending."

"Ah-ah-ah, no discord in front of '283," I caution her. "I mentioned this before."

"Oh please! My bathrobe's over her head, plus my legs around her ears?" she winks. I see our slave's whip-marked back muscles gently undulate as it does its job under the pink shroud. "I'm pretty sure we're having a private conversation."

I realize Deanna has an issue or two we need to address. "How is it that I'm condescending?"

"You know you are. You're rude and mansplain-y --"

"I'm a dominant male. I'm the architect of this plan -- the plan that is getting you off mightily, by the way. And in case you didn't notice, I'm trying to teach you a thing or two. What's your complaint?"

"My complaint is," she cocks her head and shoots me an imperious look, "I don't think I need you anymore."

"What does that mean?"

"Hey," she non-answers, smiling as she fiddles away at her keyboard, "do you happen to have a strap-on dildo in that toy kit you brought?"

"I do. But I asked --"

"Good," she interrupts. "Because, like you said, the way you really, truly 'own' a slave, is when you take its ass. That's what I want to do to Kelli --"

"Hang on. Too soon --"

"Shhh," she cuts me off again, "So first, I need you to bring me the strap-on." She's not looking at me as her fingers dance across the keyboard. "Second, I'll need the keys to the cage. All your keys, actually."

Then, for the first time, I hear her gasp quietly, see her eyelashes flutter, in response to the pleasure she is receiving down there. She slips a hand off the keyboard and places it on the back of '283's terrycloth-shrouded head -- curiously, seeming not to force its tongue to work harder, but to urge it to slow down, back off, make it last. Looks like the cunt-munch training has gotten somewhere ...

"Third," she goes on, "settle back, relax, and enjoy your last night here. Because tomorrow morning, you're leaving."

Really? I am intrigued enough not to set her straight about who's calling the shots. So I indulge her, "Anything else?"

"Fourth ..." she replies with a feral glint in her shining blue eyes. I see her thighs tighten around the busy slut's head -- perhaps to heighten her own pleasure, or perhaps to enforce '283's deafness. "... the next time you see Kelli, if ever, it'll be on my terms. Because I'm making her ... mmmmm-ine."

"What does this mean, Deanna?"

She looks up at me with an evil grin and lusty eyes, taps a key and purrs, "What it means is, you should check your work email."

I look down at my laptop and go to my work inbox, click on the latest item, from DEvilBlonde@yahoo.com, and I see what she is talking about.

Opening the first attachment, I see an image of a naked, chained and helpless young Asian girl in a basement.

And me whipping her.

I am dressed in fetish gear. And there's more: I am leading the girl across the backyard, she is naked and crawling on all fours, muzzled and tethered by her nose-ring to my leash. Me pushing her down into a mud puddle. Me whipping her while the helpless thing is bound to the post of the gazebo. More basement shots. More outdoor shots.

What the pics have in common is my face: My face is clear, unmistakable.

*******

"Just so you know, those pics aren't on this computer, they're in the cloud." She points at her laptop. "You know? I mean, in case you want to throw this in the fireplace or whatever. And your managing partner? Roger MacMahon? I have his email address. It's all there on your firm website."

"What do you want?"

"Kelli! All to myself --" As if to emphasize the point, she shoves her pussy-toy's head forcefully into her crotch, gasps viscerally, looking away, "Ooooohh ..."

She uses a tap on '283's head to ease it off so she can regain her composure, and goes on, "You have to be back at work on Monday. Me and my bitch, we don't have to be back for exams until Wednesday. So, if I have another couple days before heading back to Berkeley, I want that time to be one-on-one, me and my slave. ... By the way, you'll be paying for the extra days."

Through the arousal that reddens her face and darkens her lusty eyes, I see Deanna knows she is taking control. And that, more than anything going on between her legs, is what's getting her off now.

"Mmmm, because I mean to spend those days teaching my Asian pussy-slut who controls her so she -- mmhhh -- so she never forgets, ooooh -- never forgets who her Mistress is! Oooh, ahhhh!"

As she gasps and moans, I see she is clearly drawing a haughty erotic satisfaction from wresting my dominance away from me. I am impressed. Not just with how she used my trust to catch me off-guard and collect photographic blackmail against me, or how cleverly she set up her assault at the weakest link in my fortifications: my job No, I am impressed by how quickly she grasped the situation she was in, adapted, and gained the upper hand.

And I'm impressed by how sure she is of her control. I have to admit, upon meeting her in person the first time, I noticed Deanna was a looker. Of course I did -- you can't miss that she is tall and fit, full lips, big blue eyes, great rack. I'm not blind. But, at the time, I was focused on Kelli, and I didn't see Deanna sexually. I do now, but in a strange and dangerous way. Now, what I see is a film-noir femme-fatale -- pardon my French -- and that makes me want to get up, grab her by her wet blonde hair, throw her face-down on the carpet in front of the fire, and hate-fuck her senseless ...

... But I don't, of course, I can't. I ask once more, firmly, "What do you want?"

"From you? Nothing. My my plan doesn't include you anymore -- mmmm-aaahh! Oooh!"

And she is heaving in the chair now, writhing unabashedly, giving in to the talented tongue lapping at her greedy snatch. I watch Deanna's torso and legs shudder and convulse.

A log in the fireplace crackles and pops, the ocean wind surges, the patio doors rattle.

"Aaaaahh yes, slut, yes! Yes slave! YES MY PUSSY-SLAVE!! YESSSSSSSSSS!!!"

I watch her cum as her pleasure-toy devours her cunt. I have to sit here and take it.

"OOOOOHH!" She is pumping the slave's head with a merciless hand, milking another cum out of '283's captive face -- then another and another and another, screaming in ecstasy with each new surge, "Oooooohh yesssss! My slave!-slave!-slave! YES! YES! YES!"

If I didn't hate Deanna so much right now, I might be enjoying the show.

When she is finally done, she slumps back listlessly in the chair, her face beet-red, sweat glistening on her cleavage, tongue lolling out -- wait, is she drooling? -- and then she pulls '283's head up from between her legs. Breathlessly taunting her, "Not a bad job, slut. But we'll have plenty of time for me to teach you how to do it better."

Bored, she pushes her spent toy away. The disoriented slavegirl rolls over onto her side on the carpet, curling up in a fetal position ... breathless, cheeks as ruddy as Deanna's, leather-mittened hands flailing, unsure what to do with themselves ... parted lips, smeared with Mistress-cum, working wordlessly. She hasn't heard this interesting turn of events, and she is confused about what comes next.

And because I see your distress, Kelli, I step into the breach that Deanna doesn't know how to fill.

I stand up and command you: "At-Attention!"

*******

You know what this is, Kelli. I can see it in the sudden tautness of your muscles. You know, since your captivity began two days ago, this is the first time you have been verbally commanded -- by me, anyway -- to obey. Told what to do. I see the shock of that command awaking your body, galvanizing your submissive instincts, making you hasten to respond.

And you do. Quickly, you heave up off the carpet and assume Posture Two.

Up off your haunches, knees spread wide as they'll go, hands clasped behind your neck with elbows out straight. Blindfolded face forward, chin up, mouth and tongue open and offering. Whip-striped tits thrust out, hips forward, slave-ringed pussy exposed.