Janine's Journey

"Yes. Master."

He got up as he said. "Stay!.'

She felt her bladder on the verge of exploding. She needed her morning pee. Badly.

"May I please have a pee, Master?"

"Wrong, bitch. First you ask permission to speak. Then, if I grant you that, you may ask your question. Clear?"

"Yes, Master."

I will punish you after breakfast. That will give you something 'nice' to think about till then."

"Yes, Master."

He had not answered her question, but went to the bathroom and came back with a whitish, enameled pot.

"You can sit on this and relieve yourself while I take my morning bath."

He dumped the pot down in front of her.

She could not remember having used one, but must have -- somewhere in her early childhood. Having no other options and almost overflowing, she pushed the pot in between her spread legs, lowered herself and let the urine flow with a splashing sound.

Making sure she had finished she pushed it out beside her, and again assumed the position with her hands behind her head.

She heard the shower and the noises as he went about his morning business in the toilet.

Would she not get a chance to clean up? The first thing she did every morning was jump in the shower. She could still taste his cum in her mouth, smell the sweat on her body, and the tickling of semen on the insides of her upper legs.

She felt dirty - very dirty...

He came out naked and with wet hair. Freshly shaved. She could smell his after shave and cologne across the room. He smiled at her, went to his walk-in closet and came out a minute later wearing jeans and a T-shirt.

Quite common clothes -- and not anything like what she had imagined a harsh Master would look like. Even so, his presence still made her nervous and -- amazingly enough -- slightly horny.

He took the pot, went to the toilet and she could hear him empty and rinse it. Then he came back.

He unlocked her from the chain, clicked the leash in place and made her crawl on all four after him downstairs. Her knees now hurting from the constant crawling on the floors -- that were either hardwood or marble.

He took her outside on the terrace. On the far side was the small path to the study and on the close side, the walls of the house continued after the large windows to the living room.

She knew that they were sheltered from the road as it was behind the house, but on the other 3 sides there was nothing to hide her.

At the wall he told her to stand up, picked a short chain with a shackle from his pocket, locked her hands in front of her, pushed her back against the still morning cold, whitewashed surface, stood on his toes and pulled her hands high up above her head, where he secured the chain to a hook in the wall.

His hands went down along her sides and he smiled at her again.

He walked over to the low wall separating the terrace from the garden, unrolled out the garden hose, opened the waterflow, and pressed the pistol-like handle, sending a spray of icy cold water over her body.

The morning sun and the cold but slowly warming wall had felt good against her skin, now her body shook as the ray of water moved all over her. She gave a very loud gasp.

He adjusted the pistol grip several times -- from a single, hard flow to a shower like spreading cascade.

She twisted and turned to avoid the icy water, but he got into every nook and cranny on her front and face.

At one point he moved quite close, held her chin with one hand and moved her head making sure the cold water reached everywhere in her face and head. Then he bent down and spread her outer labia with one hand as he directed the icy cold ray on her crotch.

He stopped -- but only to turn her around. Then giving her back the same thorough cleaning.

Finishing by spreading her buttocks with the fingers on one hand and directing the water in the slit between them.

Her teeth were clattering in her mouth, her body shaking involuntarily from the cold and she had goosepimples all over.

It took a while for her to compose herself again and realize the water had stopped and he had left.

She turned with some effort -- again having her back at the wall.

The involuntarily shaking and her clattering teeth stopped gradually as the sun slowly dried her, although her hair kept releasing cold drops down her front and back.

She had been cleaned like an animal in a zoo -- or an object. She was clean alright, but with absolutely none of the pleasure her morning shower usually gave her.

He came to get her, made her crawl to the kitchen, served another bowl of cereal and milk for her on the floor while he had his breakfast at the table.

She still had the shackle in her right wrist cuff, and John had put another one in her right ankle cuff, so he could lock her up quickly, and of course she had to eat breakfast with her hands locked on her back.

After having wiped her face, but when her hands were still locked on her back, he produced an artificial penis: A black rubber look-a-like mounted on a flat leather back.

He put it in front of her face: "Now let me see how good you are. Stick out your tongue. Lick it!"

She let her tongue touch the end of the black head. She could smell the same disinfectant as she had sensed from the ball gag yesterday.

Slowly sliding her tongue around it and doing her best to show him how skilled she was at doing this.

He put a hand behind her neck, and pushed it inside her mouth. She closed her lips around it. He moved it slowly back and forth -- first just the head, then more and more of the hard-rubbery thing. Finally, he had moved it all inside her, so the flat backing rested on her face. He let go of the grip on the back of it, revealing a long strap, swung it round her head, back into a buckle on the front of the flat plate. Pressing it further in, he tightened the buckle till he was satisfied. Then took a small padlock out of his pocket, inserted it in the buckle and closed it with a small click.

It filled her mouth, pressed her tongue down and almost reached the uvula. At first it was easy to control her saliva, but soon she experienced the same dripping drool from her chin that the big, round gag had induced yesterday.

"Now. This is your punishment. I bet you thought you were in for another whipping, when I told you this morning, you'd be punished for talking out of line, but this is a much more educational punishment. You will wear this until I decide to take it out, and it will remind you what your mouth is for."

She nodded, he smiled. "Good little slave!"

"I'll tell you something, bitch. Look up there." He pointed to the little camera on the edge of the ceiling.

"You saw yesterday, that I had recorded your entry. That is my burglar alarm system. Every room has at least one camera. They are on all the time, and they start recording as soon as there's movement. That you might have figured out in your clever little slave brain by now, but what you do not know is, that I have given George access to the system. That means that he can log on at any time and watch through any of the cameras. He can also see what has been recorded, so if he misses something or is busy elsewhere, he will always be able to see what happens -- and what has happened here. You will never know when he Is watching."

Her eyes widened. "mmmmmrrrrffffmmm".

"Yes. I thought that it would appeal to you. In the back of your little mind there will always be a little voice making you wonder if George is watching. Actually, rather fun -- don't you think?"

Another incomprehensible sound came out of her as he stroked her head.

"And now it is time for your little morning walk." With these words, he got up and gave the leash a good yank.

His idea of a 'morning walk' was to take her on all four -- leashed - on a tour of the big back garden. Again, she had the tickling sensation of being on public display although she knew the garden was sheltered from the road. He sat down a few times. On strategically placed marble benches with a splendid view of the nature beyond. At these stops, he made her kneel with her legs apart and her hands behind her head. Once he played absent minded with one of her nips. Once more she felt like he was just checking if she functioned ok, but it still made her horny and wet.

Lunch was like the other meals: Him at the table, her on the floor -- eating more cereal and milk from the dog bowl.

After he had finished his lunch and wiped her face, he stuck the penis-gag back in her mouth again and said: "Time for another lesson. Let's go, bitch!"

He led her down the cellar. On her knees and by the leash. Each step making her more and more anxious as she knew that his 'playroom' was their likely destination, and she had no idea what he was going to do.

She was right! They went straight to the sound-proofed playroom downstairs.

He took her to what looked like the Gyno-chair at her doctor's. She had always felt shy and degraded when she had had to sit in one of those contraptions and be examined by her doctor. Even though her doc was a nice elderly woman.

Now he ordered her to get up in the chair.

She climbed up and got in the seat, but kept her feet on the footrest below and her legs together.

A few more directions, and she was sitting with her back firmly against the backrest's cold leather padding, and her arms on the solid armrests on each side.

He went over to a cupboard and messed noisily around inside it. When he returned to the chair, he had a selection of black, leather belts draped over his right arm.

First he tied belts round her wrists and the armrest. The belt fitting almost perfectly around the cuffs.

Then another set round her upper arms, just over her elbow. There were slits in the backrest for one end of the belt -- and it they went around her arm and the side of the backrest.

He adjusted two pads -- one on each side of her head. Then put another belt round her collar and fastened it to something behind her. This was not actually uncomfortable, but the belt held her head fixed between the two pads. She tried to move her head a little forward, and that was indeed possible, but not enough for her to be free of the pads on the sides, and therefore gave her not much more freedom of movement -- only a slight tilt to each side.

A wide belt came out of a slit in the backrest, round her waist and into a slit on the other side. She felt her waist decrease as he tightened he belt. He did it very, very tight and she certainly felt the pressure limiting her breathing.

She looked down at her breasts and nips. Now visible going up and down with each breath.

Her upper body was totally immobilized.

The leg rests were two U-shaped metal half pipes. Covered in the same black leather as the rest of the chair, and right beside her lower legs.

He lifted one leg at a time into the U-shapes and tied a belt round her ankle cuffs and just below her knees.

As he did this her legs had spread a little. A metallic noise indicated that he had unlocked the leg rests. He lifted them up - simultaneously -- and they moved apart at the same time.

She heard a loud 'clack' as some sort of mechanism went into gear.

He found a handle under the chair, stuck it into a hole in the chair below and between her legs and began turning.

This made her legs go up and out at the same time. Spreading her wide open.

The gearing and the solid, slow way it moved made her give up any idea of trying to fight against the movement.

Satisfied, he stepped back and looked at her as he smiled. Then went behind her, and another cranking noise filled the air as the backrest slowly move to a flatter angle. Still making her sit upright, but more reclining more than before.

He disappeared from the side of her view, but quickly came back. This time swishing a long, thin cane in the air. The sound made her blink and she stared at the cane as it went through the air in a half circle.

He stepped close and let his hand slide over the insides of her legs. very gently. She shivered.

"Now. This is not a punishment, bitch! This is an educational experience and part of your training. From now on you will never put you're your legs together or sit with them crossed. You are to show the world that you are a bitch and a slave, and that you are open for use -- at any time and any place. I'm now going to make sure you remember that in the coming week."

He drew the cane back and landed it on the inside of her right leg -- about an inch from her crotch. The pain was unbearable. She went tense like a bow in all her restraints -- and suddenly understood why he had been so careful to secure her completely. She had absolutely no freedom of movement.

In spite of the thick, rubber penis in her mouth, the scream of pain that came out through her throat filled the room..

Slowly -- Stroke by stroke and inch by inch - he worked his way up the inside of her leg, making parallel stripes. Each stroke feeling more painful than the previous -- and each stroke sending knives into her brain.

When he reached an inch below her knee, he turned to the other leg, starting an inch below the knee and working his way down to an inch from her crotch.

He stopped and slid his hand over the many welts that were developing quickly on her skin.

Then he began again. This time changing the angle slightly so the new set of stripes/welts crossed the first set. The places where the strokes crossed was more painful than she had ever experienced anything to be.

Sobbing and crying under the gag, she realized he had stopped. He kissed both her cheeks and said: "Good little bitch. You are a brave one!"

She did not care what he thought, she was -- her whole body was shaking out of control and she was just floating in a sea of pain.

She did - vaguely - sense him disappearing from her eyes and come back rolling a man sized, rectangular object. Unfolding it and exposing a three-winged mirror. He carefully adjusted it, so she could see three versions of herself in the chair. The middle mirror revealing her open cunt fully.

He turned on his heels and went out. Leaving her alone to study herself in the mirrors.

Slowly her brain started working again.

The way she was absolutely fixed in position made it impossible for her to look at anything else but one of the 3 versions of herself in the mirrors.

Her body had stopped shaking and she had begun to see clearly as the tears had also stopped running.

He had placed the stripes with great skill and care. They were almost too regular -- and to even in their rapidly developing bluish and brownish colours. It was like she had a long series of narrow 'X's on the inside of each leg.

He had been quite right: It would be extremely painful for the two sides of her legs to touch for many days to come, and sitting with crossed legs were definitely out of the question.

She had only been here for less than a day. Would she be able to stand it till Sunday evening? What else did he have in mind? This was both the way, she had envisioned it to be, but also very different. One thing is to imagine being restricted and treated like a slave, another to experience it.

She realized -- in spite of everything she had thought and imagined -- that her labia were also swollen and sending a tickling sensation through her although she was in pain. A lot of pain. The insides of her legs were throbbing, and she had an excellent view -- from three sides -- of the development of the welts. They started out being reddish, but quickly turned into a bluish hue, While the skin rose around each stripe. Then turned slowly into little ridges. The top of them being bluish/black. The sides were assorted colours of red and brown, and the low part fading to her natural skin colour, a diminishing red/pink.

The worst places where the areas where two stripes crossed each other. There it was just a black blotch.

--

George had been working at home, but of course he could not keep away from the computer that had the App to John's alarm system.

He had opened it just as John had begun his caning of Janine -- and more than once he had to walk away from the computer -- and more than once he almost called John to tell him to stop and end this. He did not. It took all his willpower to remain the unseen voyeur to the scene.

--

After a while, she had stopped sobbing and the pain became bearable. She did not know for how long she was left there. To study herself opened and whipped.

At last the sound proofed door made a huge sigh as the airlock disengaged, and it opened.

John came in -- and to her surprise right behind him a small, naked woman.

It was Elisabeth -- one of the women she had seen a few times at their dinners.

Now she was naked and as she came closer, Janine could see that she had exactly the same type of cuffs and collar as the ones 'decorating' her own body. She even had 'slave' and 'elisabeth' engraved on the steel.

"I hope you have been enjoying yourself, bitch. I think you know Elisabeth already, but not in this somewhat different context. She's my favourite submissive. For the rest of the weekend, she is superior to you, and you will treat her with respect and follow her orders and instructions. The exact same way, you follow mine!"

Elisabeth stepped up to her and stroked her head: "Hello, bitch. Nice to meet you again. I am sure you won't give me any problems".

Elisabeth was a small, delicate woman. She had of course never seen her undressed before, but noticed that her body seemed fit and that she had the most perfect breasts, she had ever seen. Small, but firm, with the nips pointing slightly up and out.

She was a brunette, her straight hair framing the delicate face. Her nose had a thin, long ridge, and her mouth was full and maybe slightly too wide. Her cheekbones sat high on her cheeks and her chin was small -- all in all she reminded Janine of a female -- but beautiful 'jiminy Cricket'.

Now her little hand ran from Janine's head and down. Her fingertips made a rotation round the alveola -- and then continued down the side of her body. It not only tickled, but made her whole body react.

"Can I remove the gag, Master?"

"Yes of course. You can play for a while, and then bring her upstairs for dinner."

"Yes Master. Of course." As she said that her hands were already behind Janine's head -- and a minute later a stream of saliva ran down her chin and chest. She licked her lips and swallow the excess.

John left.

Elisabeth grabbed her chin: "You may call me Miss, Elisabeth -- or Liz -- but same rules as with John applies: You do not talk without asking my permission -- understood?"

She looked at the smiling face and -- although bewildered about this new person apparently having full access and control over her, she managed a low. "Yes, Elisabeth."

"John tells me you have decided to come for a little basic training, and that you want to become a submissive. Good! I have for a long time been thinking what it would be like to have you in my power. Longing to play with you and see if a true slave was not hiding behind that cool facade of yours. I see you have had a little lesson today."

As she spoke her fingers had moved down and now she stroked the welts on her inner leg gently. It made her shiver and even though the touch was very slight, it felt like something between pain and pleasure.

"Let's spice this up a little." Elisabeth turned, went to the cupboard and came back with a thin chain and some strange looking metal contraptions in each end. She held one up in front of her face.

"Nipple clamps. A very intense feeling as you are about to find out, bitch!"

She looked at the little round, hard, plastic or rubber pads that Elisabeth opened and closed in front of her face as she spoke.