Taught Painfully to Obey and Serve Ch. 02

When I encountered my pretty young cousin for the first time in a dozen years, I was bent forward over the Count's magnificent inlaid desk, my eyes squinched shut as I concentrated on relaxing my oiled back passage, where my master -- amid grunts of effort and pleasure -- was inserting his erect cock.

Although this was far from the first time that he had penetrated my rectum, he had a thick, long member that stretched my tender anal bud to its maximum. My hands were behind me, spreading apart my buttocks to admit him as easily as possible. My skirts were pulled up past my waist, and my breasts spilled out of my bodice onto the desk top. An odor of musk and rut filled the study.

He pressed forward, impaling me deeply and kindling a glowing sensation inside my ass, as he reached in front of me and roughly rubbed my moist, shaved slit. He had commenced to fuck me steadily, and I was pressing my spread buttocks against him to admit him as deeply as possible, when I opened my eyes to see standing before me -- the Countess holding her wrist -- the sweet, unmistakable, appalled face of my only cousin, Christina.

It was hard to say which of the two of us was the more confounded. I was frozen in place, while Christina turned as pale as death and covered her eyes. Servicing my master in this manner was humiliating enough; to be observed doing so by an innocent young woman was dreadful. The Countess laughed gaily.

"Young lady, what an amusing way to reconnect with your cousin Sophie! See, she is performing her duties well! Watch her, she has plenty to teach you. As we still do her, of course." Appalled, Christina tried desperately to pull her wrist from the Countess' grasp, but the latter easily held her in place. The Count, clearly annoyed by the interruption, swatted me hard on the buttocks, so that I quickly resumed moving my hips to pleasure him. Amid the wet sounds of his cock thrusting into my loosening anus, I heard a gasp and a cry from my cousin as the Countess -- a little reluctantly -- drew her out of the room and up the grand staircase.

I tightened my sphincter around the shaft impaling me, and just then the Count pulled hard on my hair as he climaxed in my anus. I could feel the warm spray splash against my innermost depths and could not stop myself crying out in relief; perhaps also in pleasure. He slipped out of me, and (as required) I turned and slipped to my knees before him. Taking his softening cock into my mouth, carefully I licked and sucked the come, oil, and whatever else from it, obediently swallowing the liquid residue.

At a signal, I replaced his shaft inside his pants and buttoned them up. He gave me his fingers to suck clean; they had been used to spread the ointment inside me. He motioned for me to leave his presence, and I returned to my other chores, feeling the slow liquid drip of his essence from my still gaping rear entrance running down the crack of my round, full bottom.

I had been brought up in respectable middle class circumstances in a small Austrian town. But when my old aunt passed away, I was sent to distant relatives: the Count and Countess, who dwelt in considerable splendor on a large estate. From my first day there, I was trained to become an obedient wife for one of the Count's wealthy business associates. Since I am pretty, well mannered and quite submissive, my patrons thought it worthwhile to invest in considerable preparation for my future role.

However, this "preparation", besides involving instruction in the smooth running of a large household for my future husband, placed great emphasis on my role as a provider to him of sexual pleasure. As the Count early on informed me, the kind of mate he had in mind for me would probably require me to have his family crest branded on my bottom with a hot iron, and would keep a whip in his bedroom.

While my maidenhead would be reserved for my wedding night, from my first day I was taught to deliver pleasure with my hands, mouth, and ass. The Count largely left my training to his sister, a tall, impressive Amazon with sapphic inclinations. Twice a week my conduct and progress were reviewed while I stood naked and trembling before the two; almost always I was deemed to require chastisement for whatever perceived shortcomings were cited.

A paddle or whip, or occasionally a cane, was used on my back, bottom, inner thighs, belly or (when the other areas were marked and needed to heal, my captors not wishing to permanently affect my appearance) the palms of my hands. Squeal and writhe as I might, the punishment was inexorably carried out. The Countess -- usually the one who wielded the tool selected -- was merciless, not stopping the stinging blows until she was satisfied by the color and texture of my abused flesh that justice had been served.

She it was who, after punishing me, pulled up her gown and had me lick and suck her pussy and asshole until she was satisfied. She instructed me in fellatio; I learned techniques of lips, tongue and throat which I applied to my Master's brutal organ. He demanded such service usually once a day, so that my consumption of his seed -- of course I was expected to swallow every drop -- was substantial. Less often, and after I had worn an anal plug for a week to open me properly, I would be summoned to his bed, where he would forcefully penetrate my rectum, fucking me in the ass at length.

It was not long before almost all resistance on my part had been conquered. And what else could I do? I had no money, no family, no work skills or experience. I was completely dependent on my "benefactors". My disposition was anyway naturally docile and obedient. Though I dreaded the punishments, as I advanced in my training and made fewer mistakes there were not so many occasions for them. However, I could be sure that at least once a month fault would be found with me, and I would be bent over to receive a sequence of stinging blows on my tender, smarting skin.

The Countess, for one, certainly enjoyed seeing a fair young maiden gasping, flinching and pleading as a sequence of carefully placed, vicious cuts slashed her pretty bottom or thighs. My buttocks usually bore the traces of my most recent punishment; though as said, the targets were varied "so as not to spoil the merchandise", as the Countess expressed it with unusual crudity.

I most dreaded being whipped on the delicate skin of my inner thighs. This was the most sensitive place on my body. I would be placed on a bench on my back, my ankles drawn wide apart and up by leather straps. My wrists would be fastened to the bench, and a half dozen strokes of a vicious little dog whip applied to each side of my tender flesh, so that I would have to walk bowlegged for several days.

But I was well fed and housed, had an adequate wardrobe, slept in a comfortable, though locked, room with a fully equipped bath. The more I accepted my role as, in effect, a slave, the easier it was to accept and fulfill my obligations. These might include serving, completely nude, at a dinner party for some of the Count's intimates. While his guests relaxed over fine brandy and cigars, I would be required to crouch under the table and suck each of them off. Occasionally matters would become a little more riotous, as when I found myself on all fours being fucked simultaneously in both ass and mouth, my captors then switching position for a second round.

Enthusiasm on my part was obligatory; lack of it was a severe offense. I learned to moan and gasp in pleasure; at first simulated, but with the passing of time I began to somehow enjoy being used and abused, to give up my ass and mouth willingly to the deepest penetrations, so that my at first feigned sounds of lustful pleasure became increasingly sincere.

A cock firmly in my still narrow back passage now ignited a glow of sensation; I began to exult in my increasing ability to pleasingly suck and lick the various stiff shafts that were thrust in my mouth. When a fountain of come erupted in my throat or rectum, I delighted in my achievement. From time to time my masters would give me a reach around during anal sex, or I would play with myself while sucking them. It became increasingly easy for me to bring myself off. When summoned to the Countess' bed -- she preferred her own sex -- she would sometimes caress me, providing an explosive climax on my part. Gradually my attitude was being changed. The Count and Countess observed this, and approved.

Consequently, the arrival of my pretty, innocent cousin Christina found me the experienced, more mature of the pair. Thinking about her slender figure and soft curls produced a warm, sensual feeling in my loins.

It was already clear what her fate would be: the same as mine, since like me she was a penniless dependent. The role I would play in it was less clear, though this quickly became more apparent that first evening. I was to be her instructor, companion, fellow slave and, as it proved, lover.

I had finished my work that day and was allowed to relax in my rooms. With the goal of becoming the mistress of a large household, I spent much of my time learning what was involved in it, though I was not required to wash dishes or scrub floors. There were a number of servants for that. However, in the evenings I was often summoned to serve one or other of the Von Mansteins, so would wait some hours, bathed and perfumed, before retiring for the night.

My door -- which could be locked from the outside, but not within -- suddenly swung open. The Countess stood there, smiling unpleasantly. Her powerful fingers held the fragile wrist of my cousin; who was completely naked and weeping, perhaps as a result of the red slap marks that decorated her face. Thrusting the young woman in my direction, so that she stumbled and collapsed on the fine Oriental carpet, she addressed me curtly.

"Ivan (who was one of several sturdy, but silent menservants in the household) will come in an hour to bring you two downstairs. You will get Christina ready, do it promptly, if you know what's good for you."

Downstairs! That meant the Countess' private basement suite, furnished with horses, benches, a plethora of ringbolts, and an extraordinary assortment of whips, paddles, canes and clamps. That was where I had first been prepared for my future as, in effect, a slave. My skin crawled as I vividly recalled the painful instructions I had received there. Clearly Christina was to undergo the same preparation; poor thing! I had better immediately respond to the Countess' order to prepare the new arrival, who lay weeping on the floor; or I might find myself equally punished.

I knelt beside Christina and held her gently, soothing her and whispering reassuringly. Gradually her sobs lessened. Holding her close, I was able to observe her fine skin, glossy blonde curls, sweet little breasts and bottom, and large expressive blue eyes, presently still filled with tears. Desire was stirring in me, but there was no time for that now.

"There, there...try to stop crying. We must get you made up and ready. We don't have a lot of time, and we must not make the Countess angry. Or we'll both suffer."

"She...she hit me hard. She told me to get undressed, and slapped me again and again when I was shy about it. Then she...pushed her fingers into me in front; she said to make sure I was virgin. And she did the same in back. It hurt! She said I was too tight there. What did she mean; what is going to be done to me?"

I spoke seriously. "You and I are the same; poor dependents with no close family, no friends. Even if we could leave the estate, what would we do? Sleep in the woods, beg for a living? We really have no choice but to obey and serve the Count and Countess. Like me, you have to be trained for your duties. Now stop crying, and let's fix your makeup."

"But I don't have any clothes! The countess would not let me retrieve them after I stripped for her."

"We don't wear clothes when summoned downstairs. Now stand up, and I'll give you a sponge bath. Ivan will be here very soon. If we keep the Countess waiting....."

Christina slowly complied, and I bathed her, lingering a little between her legs. She squirmed in embarrassment when I washed her sweet pussy and anus, but stood obediently till I finished. I reddened her mouth and her nipples and applied a light perfume behind her ears.

Her lovely complexion required little artifice to improve it; her small, shapely figure was perfectly proportioned. A warm glow suffused my private parts as I carefully attended to her. Her tears more or less suppressed, she presented a lovely picture as she stood there naked.

The door flung open, to reveal the towering, ominous form of Ivan. Gesturing impatiently - I had never heard him speak -- he tossed a length of leather thong to me. I began to bind Christina's wrists together, wrapping each slender wrist several times before knotting them behind her.

"What are you doing...why am I being bound? Please...."

As soon as the young woman was firmly secured, Ivan impatiently seized her by the hair and drew her, protesting, into the hallway and down the stairs. I padded along behind them obediently, also naked and perfumed. The night air was cool on my bare skin. Christina mumbled protests but kept moving, encouraged by an occasional tug on her hair, while from behind I admired her trim figure, narrow back, shapely legs and small, inviting bottom.

We descended the stone stairway, and Ivan opened the heavy, studded wooden door at the bottom. The large room inside was lit by torches, and a fire glowed in the fireplace. The furniture and racks of implements, with which I was very familiar, stood in shadow. Christina was looking around fearfully when the Countess stepped forward. She reached out and grasped Christina's chin, examining her closely.

"A pretty little slave. But she will need some training, no doubt. Well, we have time tonight. Sophie, bring down the cord from the ceiling and attach it to her hands."

Dutifully, I pulled down one of the cords dangling from the high ceiling, and attached the clip at the end to the rope binding Christina's wrists. I drew on the rope and Christina's arms were pulled back and up, so that she was obliged to lean forward. She squawked in surprise and dismay,

"That bar. Ivan, wait outside" The Countess pointed.

I took the longer spreader bar and, pushing Christina's pretty legs apart, attached one end to each of her trim ankles. The countess wordlessly held out a leather collar, and a red ball gag. I strapped the collar around Christina's graceful neck, and while the Countess pinched the young woman's nostrils tightly closed, I pushed the gag into her mouth as she opened it to breathe, and buckled it tightly at the back. Her eyes were wide open in fearful anticipation, but she could emit only the smallest sounds. She shook her head violently in forceful, though useless, complaint.

"Fasten her collar to the bar. No, tighter."

I connected the young woman's collar with a light chain to the center of the spreader bar. The lovely naked girl was now bent far forward, her arms at a sharp angle. her legs wide apart, altogether helpless. She looked wildly from side to side, but her field of vision was very limited. Her eyes were like those of a trapped small creature, surrounded by predators.

Her position exposed the soft lips of her slit, which surprisingly showed some moistness, and the shy pink bud of her anus, which parted slightly as if in vulnerable invitation. There was the lightest dusting of soft golden hair decorating her private parts. She made an altogether lovely sight as she stood bent almost double, in the glow of the firelight. A succession of barely audible, muffled pleas came from her stretched open mouth.

The countess steeped forward and placed her strong hand on the defenseless ass thus exposed. She patted it, then pinched the skin hard with her sharp nails, drawing a squeal.

"Sophie, give her a kiss. It will make an amusing contrast with what is coming to her."

Obediently I slipped to my knees and parted the bound girl's buttocks a little farther. Pressing my face into the crease between, I gently kissed her slit, then began to lick, extending the tip of my tongue to flick at her sweet clitoris, then suck at it. She tasted delicious. She held herself artificially rigid, but I had practiced cunnilingus at length on the Countess, and my skillful licking and sucking released a flood of moisture, while she could not suppress a moan. She appeared to experience at least one climax.

Moving my mouth up to her soft rear entrance, I caressed the small opening with my tongue, licked it lasciviously, and pressed as far inside as possible. She escalated her moaning and pressed her bottom against my attentive face, which was soon painted with her secretions. Writhing her hips, she seemed to experience another orgasm. For myself, I was dripping wet.

The Countess signaled to me to stop. The room was silent except for the crackling of the fire, and Christina's hoarse breathing through the hole in the ball gag. She passed me a plug made of some hard wood; it had a swollen shape, then narrowed before flaring out at the base. She gave a tug on the cord that attached Christina's wrists to the ceiling; the unfortunate young woman was forced to bend over even farther, revealing her naked, vulnerable bottom that much more.

I scooped some ointment from a jar, and slid two fingers carefully into her exposed anus. She protested violently, and tried hard to shake off the intruding digits. The Countess instructed me to fasten the spreader bar to ring bolts set in the stone floor. This greatly reduced Christina's freedom of movement, and I was able to spread the slippery ointment inside her velvet-textured secret passage thoroughly.

Dipping the butt plug in the ointment, I pressed it into her narrow entrance, causing a torrent of muffled protest. Her anus was severely stretched around the plug; but despite her intense struggles and gasps of pain, I was able to work it most of the way inside her, pushing and turning it as she squealed and pleaded. With a pop, the plug went in all the way, and her sphincter closed on the narrow stem, leaving the base visible between her trembling buttocks. The initial pain lessened, and she remained still, except for an occasional shudder, as her rectum adjusted to the intrusive, insulting presence.

"I think it's time to move on to the next stage of her training. Give her...oh, say twenty strokes of the paddle on her cheeks."

The paddle was sizeable, with holes bored in it. Now, I have no taste for inflicting pain, though I have been coming to enjoy receiving it. Unlike the Countess, who becomes greatly excited when tormenting a victim, especially in a sexual way. Her nipples, unencumbered by any underwear, were as hard as rocks; she was flushed and breathing hard.

I measured the distance, and delivered the first stroke. I tried to make it look like it was as hard as possible, but pulled back at the last moment. Nevertheless, there was a sharp crack, Christina flinched and her skin turned pink at the point of impact. Again I softened the impact; but unwisely. The Countess cuffed me hard on my neck.

"You dare! Bend over and grasp your ankles."

Trembling, I immediately complied. Watching nervously from my doubled over position, I saw her take a dreaded implement from the rack: the thin, limber, leather-covered cane. Stepping to me, she whipped it across my bottom three times, with such force and speed that the intense stinging from the first stroke had hardly commenced before the third landed, all three in very close proximity on my burning flesh. I cried out and hopped from foot to foot, gasping for breath and trying to soothe my agonized bottom. The Countess gave me a moment to compose myself.