ass.
Another blow whistled across my tender flesh. This time I braced for it; incredibly, the pain was even greater.
Five more and I'd fallen backward, my arms and legs chained under me, and there was no hand to steady me. Another eight blows and the pain was left to fester; he'd stopped. I was sobbing.
His hands lifted me back up onto my knees. They were not gentle hands.
"Kiss my boots," he commanded. At least the voice was John's. I leaned forward blindly, and was grateful that he'd placed his boots accurately. I found them with my lips and kissed one, then the other.
He lifted a boot and brought it down slowly on my neck, pinning my head sideways against his other boot, my cheek squished against the unforgiving toe. I jerked, but found no way out; my ankles were already pulled up against my ass by the short lead between them and my wrists.
"What is my name, slut?" John asked.
"John Maynard," I whispered. The whistle of the crop as it struck my left buttock.
"You don't have the right to use my given name. You're not worthy of it. You call me Master, you little cunt. Say it."
"Master," I sobbed.
"Yes. Good." The boot lifted and he stepped away. "Sit up; you look pathetic like that." I obeyed, gratefully - the tension in my restraints slackened and stopped digging into my flesh. "Don't slouch. Shoulders back, tits out. Put your hands on the soles of your feet. Good." He kicked my thighs apart. "Although you hardly deserved the gift of manhood, you did have qualities admirable in a man, Anne-Marie - you were clever, aggressive, and cunning. You stripped yourself of all aggressive tendencies when you changed. I want you to understand that cleverness and cunning are no longer desirable qualities, and I don't want to see you exhibiting them. I understand you're now in Mr. Dentz's employ. Fine. I like to see you doing secretary's work. But don't attempt anything stupid. You need to begin to think like a slave girl, and the qualities that are becoming in a slave girl are entirely different from the qualities you possess or used to possess. The qualities I seek are already instinctive in you, thanks to your nano-conditioning; but I expect you to cultivate them actively.
"To that end, some formal training, to help you focus. Tonight you're going to learn the slave positions, Anne-Marie. The slave positions are poses I require all my slaves to learn to perform instinctively. The positions have various practical uses for me, but additionally provide structure to your submission. By learning them, you will hopefully begin to see your position relative to me as one not of simple obedience, but of active submission. I don't want to just use you; I want you to present yourself for my use.
"You will learn them blindfolded. This is to center your focus on your own body, its position, its uses in each position, without outside distraction. When you have learned to perform the slave positions blindfolded, then you will be free to go for the evening. It will take longer than you might think though; I'm very exacting."
I felt his hand on my shoulder. "When I command you to kneel, you will assume this position, with your hands on the soles of your feet, close together so that I can padlock them. I'm going to remove the locks now." He knelt behind me and removed the three padlocks. I heard him stand again.
"When I tell you to present yourself, you move onto all fours, then lay your face and shoulders on the floor, bringing your hands together behind you, palms facing away from the small of your back. Keep your ass exposed. Present yourself, Anne-Marie."
I hesitantly leaned forward onto my hands and knees, blindly feeling for obstructions. I bent down and pressed my cheek against the floor, then twisted my hands behind me.
He kicked my ankles apart.
"Always keep your legs as far apart as your flexibility allows. If your ankles are chained
Another blow whistled across my tender flesh. This time I braced for it; incredibly, the pain was even greater.
Five more and I'd fallen backward, my arms and legs chained under me, and there was no hand to steady me. Another eight blows and the pain was left to fester; he'd stopped. I was sobbing.
His hands lifted me back up onto my knees. They were not gentle hands.
"Kiss my boots," he commanded. At least the voice was John's. I leaned forward blindly, and was grateful that he'd placed his boots accurately. I found them with my lips and kissed one, then the other.
He lifted a boot and brought it down slowly on my neck, pinning my head sideways against his other boot, my cheek squished against the unforgiving toe. I jerked, but found no way out; my ankles were already pulled up against my ass by the short lead between them and my wrists.
"What is my name, slut?" John asked.
"John Maynard," I whispered. The whistle of the crop as it struck my left buttock.
"You don't have the right to use my given name. You're not worthy of it. You call me Master, you little cunt. Say it."
"Master," I sobbed.
"Yes. Good." The boot lifted and he stepped away. "Sit up; you look pathetic like that." I obeyed, gratefully - the tension in my restraints slackened and stopped digging into my flesh. "Don't slouch. Shoulders back, tits out. Put your hands on the soles of your feet. Good." He kicked my thighs apart. "Although you hardly deserved the gift of manhood, you did have qualities admirable in a man, Anne-Marie - you were clever, aggressive, and cunning. You stripped yourself of all aggressive tendencies when you changed. I want you to understand that cleverness and cunning are no longer desirable qualities, and I don't want to see you exhibiting them. I understand you're now in Mr. Dentz's employ. Fine. I like to see you doing secretary's work. But don't attempt anything stupid. You need to begin to think like a slave girl, and the qualities that are becoming in a slave girl are entirely different from the qualities you possess or used to possess. The qualities I seek are already instinctive in you, thanks to your nano-conditioning; but I expect you to cultivate them actively.
"To that end, some formal training, to help you focus. Tonight you're going to learn the slave positions, Anne-Marie. The slave positions are poses I require all my slaves to learn to perform instinctively. The positions have various practical uses for me, but additionally provide structure to your submission. By learning them, you will hopefully begin to see your position relative to me as one not of simple obedience, but of active submission. I don't want to just use you; I want you to present yourself for my use.
"You will learn them blindfolded. This is to center your focus on your own body, its position, its uses in each position, without outside distraction. When you have learned to perform the slave positions blindfolded, then you will be free to go for the evening. It will take longer than you might think though; I'm very exacting."
I felt his hand on my shoulder. "When I command you to kneel, you will assume this position, with your hands on the soles of your feet, close together so that I can padlock them. I'm going to remove the locks now." He knelt behind me and removed the three padlocks. I heard him stand again.
"When I tell you to present yourself, you move onto all fours, then lay your face and shoulders on the floor, bringing your hands together behind you, palms facing away from the small of your back. Keep your ass exposed. Present yourself, Anne-Marie."
I hesitantly leaned forward onto my hands and knees, blindly feeling for obstructions. I bent down and pressed my cheek against the floor, then twisted my hands behind me.
He kicked my ankles apart.
"Always keep your legs as far apart as your flexibility allows. If your ankles are chained
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