A Slut's Education Ch. 07 - FINALE

And for the first time in days, I am off my knees.

But you, Deanna, are on your back.

Like I was hours ago, she is naked and strapped down to the punishment-bench, hands cuffed underneath and chained to her ankles, thighs spread helplessly. My old bondage, the head-harness, blindfold, mittens and muzzle, are on her now, along with my steel: cuffs, collar, chains ... just not the C-belt.

Not yet. First I have plans for your pussy.

It all makes for a pretty picture. *Clik!* Looking at my phone, I like the angle and the moody lighting. I text the pic to Master's phone, and because I have the iPhone interface app open on his laptop, I receive it the same time he does.

I grab the pic and drop it into the folder on Master's system called "Deanna_Blackmail," where it goes in with the others like it.

Like the one of Deanna on the bed, naked with legs obscenely spread, fingers of one hand diddling her snatch. The other hand is up by her head, which is sideways, sucking on her fingers like a slut. To make the pic extra nasty, she wears a dog-collar and nipple-clamps. And the way your eyes are closed, Deanna, no one would think you're unconscious, just lost in masturbation bliss.

There are other jill-off positions with other accessories -- ballgag, blindfold, butt-plug -- And even more obscene postures after we added my metal collar, cuffs and sirik to her fetish wardrobe. I can't wait to show them to you!

I am basically done with the computer work Master gave me, so I am getting juicy waiting for my captive to wake up so we can get started. On Deanna's laptop, I already double-deleted the pics of Master from her Google drive, which took them off her phone. And since she was nice enough to leave her Facebook open-- same with your Insta and TikTok, thankssss, Deanna! -- I reset the passwords and emailed them to Master.

I can't wait to tell you about that, too!

I remember what Master said to me after I first woke up in my captivity -- how long ago was it, an eternity? "You are no longer the free woman you think you are. You are a number, a thing -- a piece of meat -- property."

Well, that's you now, slave Deanna.

"Mmmmhhh ..." she mumbles.

Looks like I won't have to wait much longer. My pussy is slippery at the thought of my revenge. And I deserve that.

I get up and walk over to the bench, carrying the heavy beating strap in one hand and the remote box in the other. With the muzzle and blindfold on, I'm not sure if she is back from dreamland yet. So just to make sure, I touch the button on the remote.

"MMMMMGGGGHHHH!!!"

Deanna writhes on the bench, swinging her head to and fro, yanking on the chains of her bondage, spasming at the hips where the powerful shock is tearing through her anus. I smile. My pussy pulses, naked under the kimono, and I feel my juices trickle down my thigh.

I take my finger off the button.

You're awake now, fosure. She's struggling but feeling her bondage, nakedness and helplessness. She makes moaning, grunting noises with her plugged mouth that sound like questions. I am tempted to let her wonder a little longer who has her at their mercy, but I can't wait. I take off the blindfold. Surprise, it's ME!!

Her blue eyes pop open like saucers. "Nngeh-ee?" I guess that's gag-talk for Kelli?

"Hiiiiiii, Sleeping Beauty!" I giggle. "Did you have a nice nap?"

She struggles against the chains and straps, like I did once, and moans and begs into the gag like I did, but she is trapped. And fucked.

I remove the muzzle and look at the dildo-gag underneath which is attached to the straps of her head-harness. I want to take it out so we can have a conversation, but first I push it in deeper. She gurgles and grunts, eyes wide, tearing up.

Untrained, I think.

I laugh and taunt her, "I took that dildo easily, bitch, and I've taken bigger and deeper. I'm surprised a dirty slut whore like you is such a light-weight cock-sucker! But you'll have time to learn. A long, loooong time."

Slowly I slide out the plug.

"Ow, this hurts!" Deanna whines. "Please, Kelli, let me go --"

*THWAK!* I land the strap hard on her unguarded pussy.

"AAAGGHH! Ow-ow-owwwwww -- Please, Kelli --!"

"That's right, slave, that's your only job -- Please Kelli." I love turning the tables on her. "And right now, it pleases your Mistress to see you suffer."

"Wait --"

*THWAK!*

"AAGHH! No-ooooo --!" she screams, tears springing to her eyes.

"You tried to threaten my Master. And you tried to take me away from him. You will have to pay for that. Did you really think you would get away with it? My Master -- our Master -- is much more clever than you are. And now, slave, here you are."

*THWAK!* Across her belly this time.

"AAGHH! Plee-ee-eease!"

"Shush," I tell her. "Don't you remember? 'Noise from your mouth will be answered with pain, and pain must be met with silence.' You'll learn that in your slave-training."

"Slave --? You can't be serious!"

I push the remote button.

"Aiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!! No-no-nooooo!"

"And you can't be that stupid." I hold the dildo-gag in front of her face, enjoying the power I have to shut her up. "Do you want this back in?"

She closes her lips, shaking her head no with her eyes shut.

"Good."

I set down the strap and pick up Master's single-tail and I look down at my captive. I have always been fascinated Deanna's full, firm tits, and I had my taste of them those few times we made out, back when we were fun, carefree roomies. I was jealous of them the way Asian girls like me sometimes are, and I never stopped wanting to play with them. But back then, I never dreamed of playing with them the way I am going to right now:

*THWIK!*

"That is for speaking without permission!"

"AAAGGHH --!"

"Silence, slave!"

*THWIK!*

"And that is for not calling me Mistress!"

Deanna's eyes are clenched shut and she is biting her lip so hard I think she is going to draw blood.

*THWIK!*

"That is for threatening Master!"

She is losing it. Tears slide down the sides of her face. But she is doing her best to keep quiet, though I hear muffled grunts behind her sealed lips.

*THWIK!* *THWIK!* *THWIK!*

"And this is for trying to steal me away from him!"

She can't help herself any longer, she blurts out, "Please, no more -- no more! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!! It was a game, Kelli, a game! Please let me go!"

I shoot her a stern look. "Kelli?"

"I mean -- Mistress, please! Won't you please forgive me? I mean, weren't we friends?"

"Isn't that exactly what I said to you, slut? When it was me begging you for mercy? 'I thought we were friends! You're hurting me and treating me like an animal.' Do you remember that?"

"Yes, Kel -- Mistress, I remember!" She is desperate, sobbing. "But -- Won't you please let me go, Mistress?"

A part of me, a small one, feels pity for her. But she deserves this. You got too high on your power, Deanna-slut, power you didn't really hold. The power was always Master's, you only borrowed it, and you forgot that.

I am here to remind you.

I swap the whip for the cane, eyeing her creamy white thighs. I pick up the remote too, and crank up the dial. And crank up your torture, my bitch-slave, my revenge is just getting started.

"Don't you like me? I mean," Deanna pleads, "... weren't we besties?"

"We were, Deanna, and we are ..."

I shove the plug back in her mouth.

"Mmmnnghhh ..." she whimpers.

"But our relationship has evolved."

**EPILOGUE**

I am walking out to the car with Kelli, under the clear blue, Sunday morning sky. She is wearing black jeans and designer cowboy boots, pink camisole top and a fleece, the clothes she came here in ... back before, you know. And behind us, Deanna is walking naked, bound and gagged.

I've packed away the chains and leather and gotten back to the basics with my newest slave. Rope. My miserable captive is trussed up in the finest Japanese hemp, arms behind her with elbows roped tightly together, wrists cinched at the small of her back and several snug loops around her waist. The ballgag I used to shut up her bitch mouth is large, her lips stretched taut around it in the grip of head and chin straps buckled brutally tight.

Ah, I misspoke: I packed away all the steel, that is, except the C-belt. Her slave-holes are locked up in that impenetrable cunt-jail. And from the hook in back, I've run a rope connected to my suitcase, which she is dragging behind her.

She is dog-collared and leashed, and the leash is in Kelli's hand.

"Where are we going?" Kelli asks, looking up the long, gravelly drive, which Deanna is negotiating tortuously with mincing steps of her bare feet.

"I parked my car a ways up the road," I chuckle, "so I could make Deanna suffer while she does my hauling."

Kelli nods and laughs, understanding. I find it gratifying that she joined me so enthusiastically in my revenge game -- and there are stripes, bruises and welts cross-hatching our slave's pretty flesh to prove it -- but I'm interested to know how that felt for Kelli. I want to ask her about that, and I will soon.

She turns to me. "Please, Sir, I am confused. What happens now?"

"We're all heading back to San Francisco, to my place. We have the rest of today, the three of us, to sort out who's who, what's what, and where we all stand going forward." I say it so matter-of-factly, I wonder if Kelli is picture how intensely that little dynamic might play out. "Mostly, where the slave-cunt back there stands vis-à-vis you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, so that never pulls anything like that with you ever again."

"Well, we can't keep her tied up forever," Keli jokes.

"Can't we?" I say it loudly and back over my shoulder for our captive's benefit. Then to Kelli, "No, mind-fucks aside, I have everything I need to make her behave. Between the blackmails pics, control over her social media, emails addresses of her parents and friends ... not to mention the C-belt! She'll have to give us both some pretty convincing assurances about her future behavior if she wants out of that."

Deanna grunts and growls into her ballgag.

Kelli smiles, looking straight ahead. "I kind of like the idea of leaving it on for a few days anyway, make her beg ... the way I did."

"Actually not a bad idea," I nod, impressed by her wicked ingenuity. "I may give you the key."

"I'm still confused, though!" Kelli pouts. "I mean -- I just can't picture what it'll be like going back and living together, after everything that's happened this weekend."

"Picture this: It'll be hands off you, or else."

"And what if that's not what I --?"

"Shhh," I caution. We've reached my car and we stop there, including Deanna, and I hold up my hand to put a pause on that train of thought. This part isn't for the slave-captive's ears.

I take the leash from Kelli's hand, go around to my suitcase and unzip the outer pouch with one hand, while with the other, I push Deanna to her knees. I take out a long black scarf, wind it tightly around her head, blindfolding her. Then I take a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and complete the isolation of the kneeling slavegirl. She whimpers pitifully, but with resignation.

There, now we have a little peace from prying ears. By the way, I imagine the gravel is tough on her bare knees, but there's nothing she can do about it, and I don't give a shit.

I turn back to Kelli. "You were saying ... What if we don't negotiate a hands-off rule between you and Deanna?"

"I mean, just, what if?" She shrugs squirmingly, possibilities running through her slutty mind. "I mean, like, if we kept it ... open?"

"Open," I repeat. "Sure, in principle, we can negotiate any arrangement you want -- and I stress that, Kelli, whatever you want --"

"You mean, like," she looks at me with a sly little grin, "... choices?"

Hold that thought, I think but don't say it, we're coming back to that soon enough.

"When you say 'open,' you mean you guys are free to make out, say. When? Spontaneously? That would be 'open.' Or, only when you say it's okay ...?"

"Iono," she scrunches up her face.

"I mean, we could make it so Deanna can be your Mistress again 'now and then,' say, but with your rules, safewords, your boundaries. But after what you saw of her this weekend, do you think you can trust her -- blackmail or no blackmail -- to control herself and respect any boundaries?"

Kelli is quiet, looking back toward the house, and the ocean beyond. "No, Sir."

"We could make it so that she's your plaything," I press ahead to the next hypothetical. "I can make that happen. Whenever it pleases you, she's your naked, groveling blonde-slave. Give her a training schedule, like you and I have ... had." I admit, personally I like picture I'm painting, and I wish I could be the fly on that wall. "You call the shots in that house. Shit, make her do all the chores! Use her any way you want, whenever you want. For your pleasure ... or her punishment."

She looks away, her expression almost pained. "I wouldn't like that, Sir."

I nod, trying to read her.

"I didn't like that," she adds.

"Tell me about that." I see her pause, like she doesn't want to explain, but ... "I insist."

I watch stray wisps of her hair dance around her cheeks in the breeze, the expression on her face vaguely compressed, and I recognize in it a hint of arousal.

Though you don't want to, Kelli, you will speak because I have commanded it, and once you gather the words to serve my demand dutifully and well, you will obey.

She begins, "When you told me what Deanna did, I ... I, I was, I felt so many things. I mean, first -- you know, my mind was broken. You two did that to me ..."

I grimace at the accusation. She's not wrong.

"What you told me was a jumble. But what I remember, when you came down to ... came and rescued me from the cage, I was so relieved, so happy. I felt like I was back in safe hands. It made me feel this, like, wave of, of gratitude ... for my rescuer, my savior ... my Master. Gratitude, and loyalty. So when you gave me jobs to do -- like with the slutty photo shoots, taking down her pics of you, hijacking her SM -- it reminded me of my training. Discipline postures, deep-throat exercises, corporal, all the things you used to make me do. And the thought of that made me juice --"

She pauses, laughing softly with equal notes of confusion and bitterness.

"Go on, Kelli," I instruct her.

She shivers at my tone of command. "Well, Sir, while we were tying Deanna down on the bench, I was thinking about her deceit, her double-cross -- what she'd done to you, and what she meant to do to me. That gave me something to hate --"

"Hate?"

"No, not -- well, yes, I hated her. But that's not --" She shakes her head, like she's clearing cobwebs. "See, before, when you two were mind-fucking me and breaking me down, that ... that worked. I was way down in this bottomless pit you put me in, wallowing there, blaming myself -- I was, like, the lying whore, selfish slut, disobedient slave, miserable fuck-up -- and I deserved it! So when you came to my 'rescue,' and you gave me a different story to believe, it flipped me around three-sixty. I stopped blaming myself, and started blaming her.

"See, what happened then, I reprocessed everything she did to me. So cruel, so degrading, and -- and so fucking painful -- but since I'd stopped believing that I ever deserved any of it, I guess I decided she did. Deanna deserved to get back everything she'd done to me ..."

"I understand."

"So, when you finished laying her out ... that beautiful, naked, helpless body, tied down and spread out for me ... You said, 'She's all yours,' and you left, went upstairs ..."

"I remember."

"Well, then ... then I ..."

She trails off now, lost in what happened next ... off in that place. She doesn't need to describe it, because I heard it all. But more, I can read it on her face. So I let her drift there awhile.

Then I finish her thought for her. "Then, your revenge was brutal. And it was sweet. Until it wasn't anymore."

"Yes." She looks straight at me. Back in the here.

"And then you climbed up on the bench. And you took what you really wanted. Not from her hide, but from her mouth."

"Yes."

"And you took it really, really slowly."

"Yes."

"The thing you really understand best, what makes you tick --"

"Yes. What my pussy wants."

"And that broke the spell."

"What?"

"Never mind. Something Deanna and I discussed. Let's just say, at that moment, you stopped feeling the need to please, serve or obey anyone else ... and you took care of yourself."

"Um," she nods, confused. "I guess?"

"Not to change the subject, 'cause I'm not, but .... I imagine you still feel the stripes of your captivity on your skin, isn't that so?"

"I do."

"What does your pussy tell you about those? Tell me in one word," I command.

You obey: "Proud."

"And about your whole ordeal? One word. Tell me."

The answer comes more slowly, but finally it does: "Stronger."

I give her a few moments, then, "And what did your pussy tell you during ... during the worst of it?"

"My pussy was my only friend ... my sanctuary, my sanity."

"Why?"

"I ... don't ..."

"Tell me," I command.

She obeys: "Because it was hot ..."

"And?"

"And I'm a slut. I know it in my belly. I am a natural-born submissive pussy-slut ..."

Now the wind picks up and whips through her hair, making an agitated frame around her pretty, placid face, which that is both proud and vulnerable, and fluttering with questions. She looks down at Deanna, kneeling quietly in the gravelly dirt, bound and gagged, blindfolded and deafened.

"... And that means I don't really have it in me to dominate anyone. And I'm not even sure how I much I really like girls, in -- you know, even in a vanilla way. All I really want --"

"Tell me."

She obeys: "Is to be a chink-slave to white cock."

Hmm. Of all the things she has told me so far, nothing surprised me, until now.

I reply, "And since we're being honest, I'll admit it. I love to enslave Asian pussy."

"Huh," she nods. Whatever that means.

"I mean, I try and be open-minded, I don't like to discriminate, but ..." Full disclosure time. "Nothing else truly inspires me the same as a bookwormish, small-titty, golden-skinned, silky black-haired, slant-eyed slut on her knees --"

"Oh my," Kelli catches her breath a little.

"-- at my feet." I nod down at our kneeling captive and chuckle. "Luckily for her, Deanna ... Not really my type."

"Then we're a perfect match," Kelli laughs, though she doesn't seem entirely amused.

"But seriously ..." I say.

"Seriously ..."

Both of us look up the road. Then turning back to face each other, we say it together, "So what happens to us now?"

We bust out laughing. And it is a true, easy, unburdened laughter for a change.

I shake my head like it's me clearing the cobwebs this time. I take out my key fob and chirp the trunk open. Then I untie the rope tethering our sullen captive to my suitcase, which I lift into the cargo space.