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The best thing about Janie is that you can
see her every emotion in her face. She
has about as much chance of hiding her feelings, let alone prevaricating, as a
toddler. This makes it easy to punish
her with precision.
As delightfully frustrated and sorrowful
as Janie can appear, her enslavement to me was voluntary. We didnÕt do everything conventionally; I
didnÕt make her sign a contract, for instance.
She thinks the evolution of our relationship was her idea, but once I
thought she was ready to be my slave, I implemented the necessary changes so
efficiently and with such authority that she became apprehensive. Therefore, when I made her kneel and say her
vows of submission, her face reflected a perfect blend of eagerness and
trepidation. Most often, now, she looks
fearful and plaintive, but still, whenever I tell her I love her, she shows me
nothing but pure joy.
I was familliar with all the traditional
training methods--the Gorean, the Edwardian, the basics of pain/pleasure
training--and I wonÕt say these were not instrumental as I formed my own
approach to educating Janie. But the
truth was, even though she was my first slave, I didnÕt feel like a
novice. IÕd been prepared for this step
for years. The only reason I hadnÕt
owned a slave yet was that I hadnÕt found the right woman--a woman who wanted
and needed to submit, but who was seriously reluctant enough, for whatever
reasons, to struggle against the impulse.
Someone willing enough to call me ŌMaster,Ķ but whose mind (and pride,
perhaps) would still rebel such that intensive training would be truly
necessary. In short, I wanted a
challenge. How enjoyable would it be,
after all, to go through the motions of daily ownership with a girl who was
already slavishly submissive enough to not even blink at the most heinous
orders? No, my interest was in breaking
down a strong woman, forcing her to traverse her own perceived limitations one
at a time. And I was ready.
So, once Janie had made her bed, I
gradually introduced a number of innovations.
Most importantly, I never wanted her to forget, even for a moment, that
her new lifestyle had been her choice.
Whenever possible I wanted her to obey me of her own volition, and would
make her take an active role in her own debasement. This is the concept that influenced the type
of restraints I used on her. Mainly,
since I owned a girl with the most lovely, speaking face, I didnÕt see why I
couldnÕt expect to have a silent slave.
But I didnÕt want to simply buckle a gag into place. Instead, I had a glass-blower create a
beautiful ball, a bit smaller than a golf ball, made of crystal-clear glass on
the outside with a swirl of shining color inside, similar to a marble. Janie had to keep it in her mouth at all times,
unless she had express permission to remove it, which I let her do usually only
at meals or when she was sucking my cock.
If she really needed to speak, she had to ask permission with the ball
in her mouth, and as it was too big for her to slip it into her cheek, the
garbled, slobbering sounds she made when making her request never failed to
bring a charming blush to her cheeks.
Before long, she had also developed an adorable habit of sucking the
ball dry as best she could when I asked her to give it to me, in order to spare
me, I assume, from her drool. She would
suck all her saliva to the back of her mouth, then purse out her lips and pop
the ball out from between them so that it would emerge as dry as possible. I never got tired of that, or of watching her
rub her tongue experimentally along the roof of her mouth after sheÕd gotten
rid of the ball for the first time in many hours.
In the same vein, I kept Janie cuffed and
collared, and often naked, but I didnÕt usually leash her and chain her, except
when it simply pleased me to see her that way.
Thus, she wasnÕt normally actually restrained, but her shiny silver
collar and stylish leather wrist and ankle cuffs were a constant reminder that
she was as good as hog-tied at the execution of my merest whim. WeÕd had her tongue pierced together a few months before she
became my slave, but after she pledged her submission I fitted her with a
larger piece of jewelry that I could clip a special leash to. I made sure Janie knew exactly what it was
for, and that IÕd lead her by her tongue if I ever deemed it necessary--or if I
ever just felt like it. Plus, this
device made it even more difficult for her to talk.
I became particularly adept at devising
ingenious punishments perfectly suited to whatever transgression Janie
committed. (To her credit, she rarely
failed me, but that she would do so now and then was inevitable. I was a very exacting master. Anything less would not have satisfied her,
after all, whether she knew that or not.)
One of my most creative moments occurred soon after JanieÕs
enslavement. I told her sheÕd gain more
freedoms as she grew more inured to her new life, but for now, she was mostly
confined to the house and to the strict schedule I kept her on. The most wonderful thing about it was that
she obeyed me implicitly, even when I was away at work during the day. I knew this because she was never able to lie
to me if I quizzed her about her day. On
this particular occasion, Janie made a mistake in the evening, while she was
sucking me off as I sat at my computer.
I made her crawl naked under my desk and
worship my cock while I sent e-mails and visited several websites. Now, in general, Janie was a skilled and
enthusiastic cock-sucker, and I had little to complain about. She genuinely loved lavishing attention on my
crotch, and would often initiate a session by rubbing her face agianst my groin
in mute appeal. This night, as usual,
she began by reverently cradling my balls in her hands and breathing gently on
them as she dropped little kisses on my stomach and thighs. Next she sucked on them, one at a time,
stroking her tiny hands over my body--all the parts she could reach, at
least--as she did it. Then came long
minutes of exquisite teasing--she would slide her tongue all up and down and
around my shaft before finally taking just the head in her mouth. She tongued my piss-hole and swirled her
talented, studded tongue all around the head, then began to suck as she paid
special attention to the sensitive spot on the underside where my foreskin
attached. I always had to anticipate the
moment Janie took me all the way into her mouth, because the first time sheÕd
done it IÕd nearly embarrassed myself. I
did it successfully that night; she gave a little moan, as if she could wait no
longer, and my cock was plunged deep, all the way into her throat. Janie had a remarkably insensitive gag
reflex. SheÕd told me once, before IÕd
enslaved her and forbidden her to speak, that she could combat the reflex as
long as she took regular, deep breaths through her nose.
But I was beyond noticing her breathing as
she slid her mouth up and down several times, sucking hard, getting me moist so
she could slip her thumb and two fingers around the base of my shaft and really
begin the blow job. For the next 20
minutes she bobbed and sucked, licking continuously, her fingers squeezing in
perfect rhythm to the movement of her head, while her free hand fondled my
balls, stroked my perineum, and roamed over my thighs and belly and chest. The first time weÕd done this together Janie
had automatically swallowed my cum, and whether or not she did it to impress me
at the time she seemed to assume I would be less than pleased with anything
else, and continued to do it unprotestingly.
But I must have eaten something particularly salty, or something, on
this night, because as I began shooting into the back of her mouth Janie gagged
and choked, and the rest of the flow dribbled out of her mouth and onto my
balls and, offensively enough, onto my chair!
As I, recovering, stared down at the mess
in growing anger, JanieÕs eyes opened wide with horror. She popped her mouth off of my cock and
hastily started to lick up what sheÕd spilled, but she seemed to be grimacing,
and I actually saw her throat convulse as she started to gag again. My eyes narrowed as I thought about it and
realized that while, yes, Janie had always willingly swallowed for me, she had
never made a show of savoring this experience.
When I shot onto her face or her tits she didnÕt open her lips so I
could scoop some of my deposit into her mouth, and she usually positioned my
cock head at the very back of her mouth when she sensed I was about to
cum--presumably, I saw now, so she wouldnÕt have to taste much.
I stood up so abruptly that Janie was
knocked backwards in surprise. As I
stalked to the bathroom to rinse the mess off of my balls, she crawled out to
the middle of the floor and knelt miserably on the carpet, on her hands and
knees, her forehead to the ground and her ass in the air. When I finally came back into the room I saw
she was trembling; she knew sheÕd fucked up big time. I was silent, and I ignored her for a while,
letting her anxiety mount, and was glad to see that at least she didnÕt dare to
move before she knew what I wanted her to do.
The thing was, I really was seeing
red. Here was my devoted, loving slave,
who was supposed to be desperately adoring of my cock at all times, and she
disdained my cum. She should consider my
giving her my cum a great gift, and instead, she had the temerity to show me
her disgust at it. I can admit now that
I was a little hurt by the incident as well as angry, but at the time I let
rage take over, knowing it would serve me well when I decided on a punishment
for her.
When I finally approached my disgraced
slave girl, and saw her tense in the knowledge that I was stanidng over her,
all I said was, ŌGet ready for bed,Ķ in a deceptively quiet voice. If she was wondering why I didnÕt give her
gag ball back, she gave no sign of it, and instead crawled meekly to the
bathroom to bathe and shave as I always required her to do. That night Janie was refused the privilege of
sharing my bed, and slept instead on the floor at its foot. In the past, this in itself had proved to be
sufficient punishment, as nothing hurt Janie so much as sleeping alone. But she had more in store for her this
time. After I sent her to
"bed," I spent 30 minutes covering her gag ball with Rodrepel, a safe
but extremely foul-tasting solution originally designed to prevent rodents and
birds from chewing on cables or other equipment. I gave it three coats, letting each one dry
before applying the next one, and reflected grimly that my cum would probably
taste like the manna of heaven by the time Janie had been sucking on this thing
all day tomorrow.
She looked truly pitiful when I came back
to the bedroom, curled up on the floor with tear tracks drying on her
face. I refused to let the proof that
she'd cried herself to sleep soften my resolve.
The sneaky little bitch had been pretending this whole time that she'd
been happy to swallow my cum, while all along she'd been simply getting it over
with.
Janie
woke up when my alarm went off and hesitantly crawled under the sheets to give
me my customary morning blow job (which often turned into an energetic fuck,
depending on my mood). But I pushed her
away roughly and headed for the shower.
She followed me, meekly waiting to be told whether this part of our
routine was to be different, too.
"You may wash me," I ordered, "but don't you dare try to
get me hard. I've had about enough of
your manipulative, lying tactics."
From the corner of my eye I watched her
cringe as she realized for the first time that I wasn't just mad about the mess
she'd made. She kept her head down as
she gracefully knelt in the shower and began her chore of washing me from the
feet up. When she got to my groin she
hesitated just slightly and I could tell she was thinking about how to touch me
so that I wouldn't get aroused. She set
about lathering me up without including any of the special little caresses she
usually sneaked in, and since she was doing so well I snapped, "Look at
me," just to make it harder for her.
The water ran over my shoulders into her face, so she had to blink
furiously to keep her eyes on mine, but as she rose up slightly to soap my
stomach and chest, I could see the fear in them. Good.
I knew the day she stopped being afraid of me was the day she'd stop
respecting me as her master.
Still using only her hands, Janie gently
cleansed my face, and what was usually the most intimate moment of our day took
on a strained quality as her trembling fingers seemed to be pleading with me
for mercy. I knew she wanted to give
free rein to an emotional impulse to embrace me, or rain kisses over me, as she
always did when she was profoundly sorry.
But she was smart enough to refrain, and went off to make my breakfast
with a pathetic slump to her shoulders.
I no longer gave Janie instructions per
the breakfast menu, challenging her instead to intuit what I might like, and
again, keeping her just a little bit more on her toes. Sometimes I even deliberately let the
cupboard get somewhat bare, to see what she might come up with. She performed well on this occasion,
producing French toast and fruit while I shaved and dressed, and my coffee was
perfect. But I found I didn't have much
appetite; the pitfall, I suppose, of being a master who really does love his
slave and is forced to punish her after his temper has waned. It didn't help that she kept glancing at me
with her big eloquent eyes, which seemed to have assumed a desperately hopeful
expression, or that she was looking charming as she always did in the morning,
fresh-faced, with her tangled wet hair falling over her shoulders.
Janie only eats exactly the amount that I
serve her, and perhaps she noticed that I gave her an extra-large glass of
juice and slightly larger helpings than normal.
But she finished everything, cleared my plate of half-eaten food, and
while I finished my coffee went to get my neatly-packed bag and my keys. She stood by the door with these--thinking
she was about to get off without further discipline?--but as soon as I'd had my
last sip I destroyed all her hopes.
"Go wait for me in the living room," I said, adding, "in
the corner." I looked at her just
in time to see her face fall, predictably.
She hesitated awkwardly and I could tell she was wondering what to do
with my stuff. I barked, "Just drop
them!" so suddenly that she jumped and practically ran to the other
room. It would have been comical if I'd
been in a better mood.
I didn't have to tell her to kneel, and
she waited on her knees, facing the room, and shaking, while I went to get the
specially-prepared glass ball she'd been so unusually long without since
yesterday evening. Her eyes widened when
I came back holding it in one gloved hand.
"Look at me." I stared
firmly right into her eyes. "You've
disappointed me, Janie. Not only did you
turn in a sloppy performance last night, and fail utterly to rectify it, but
you showed me that underneath your outward devotion you're a lying little
bitch." Her chin trembled and two
big tears rolled down her cheeks.
"My slave," I continued, undeterred, "should be thrilled
to receive the gift of my cum. She
should feel complimented and honored that her master deigns to let her take it
into her body. A master who does not
love his slave will cum on her tits and her face, but not in her mouth or in
her cunt. And yet you are so insensitive
to this that you swallow my cum as quickly as possible, or worse, choke on
it! And then you smile at me afterwards
as if you really do enjoy it. You know
what's more insulting to me than outright defiance?" She was really crying now, her shoulders
shaking, and it was all she could do to keep her head up. I didn't really expect her to answer. "It's fucking deception!" I
thundered. "You don't even have the
guts to admit your own fault. Instead,
you put on this little show, for months and months, deliberately trying to keep
me in the dark, and that, slave, is disrespect, pure and simple."
I studied her for a moment. At this point in her training she probably
hadn't had trouble overcoming the impulse to defend herself. She was just itching to apologize, I assumed--but
she impressed me by going one step further. "You may speak," I said.
"Oh, Master, please, I'm so
sorry!" she stammered out. "I
never--never meant to hurt you, please believe--" she broke off on a sob,
took a breath, and started again, struggling to maintain eye contact. "Please, Master, punish me for my
failure. Help me do better!" And then, with every ounce of courage she
had, "T-teach me to love the taste of your cum."
Her eyes fell from mine then, but it
didn't matter; I was nearly floored.
This was the first time Janie had asked to be punished without being
prompted. Furthermore, she had
anticipated exactly my plans for her. I
tipped her chin up and the gentle touch encouraged her to raise her
tear-drenched eyes to my face again.
"I am going to help you, Janie," I murmured, and her eyes
closed briefly in relief that I didn't seem furious any longer. "Open your mouth."
She did this immediately, despite the
suddenly-wary look in her eyes that told
me she knew I'd done something to her unique gag. "You're going to want to spit this out,
Janie," I warned her, "but you may not. Do I need to help you?" She shook her head bravely, mouth still held
open, and I pushed the ball inside.
Her reaction was picture perfect. Her eyes widened, then screwed shut as her
whole face dissolved into a terrible grimace.
I saw the muscles at the sides of her mouth quivering as she forced her
lips to stay closed. I watched her
struggle for a moment, watched her shudder when she finally swallowed
experimentally, and when she seemed to be coping better I started talking
again. "What you're tasting is a
product meant as a rodent repellent," I informed her, knowing this veiled
insult would not go unnoticed.
"It's harmless, but there's three coats of the stuff on there, and
I'll be surprised if your spit manages to clean it off by the end of the
day. Especially since I'm sure you're
holding your tongue away from the ball as best you can. Nevertheless," I went on, allowing my voice
to get louder and sterner, "you are not to spit it out, even for a second,
until I've come home and given you permission.
Furthermore, you are not to eat or drink any liquids today while I'm
gone. You are to follow your normal
schedule, but you may take your workout a little lighter so you don't get
dehydrated. I don't think I need to tell
you that I want you to be thinking about your mistakes. When I get home, we'll continue with the next
part of this lesson. Now, go meet me at
the door."
Janie's face of suffering, and her forlorn
posture, prompted me to say quietly, as I walked out, "You can make it
better, Janie, by performing well today."
When she nodded I closed the door behind me.
Call me a fool, but it was all I could not
to go home on my lunch break. Although,
to my credit, this desire arose only partly out of the urge to put Janie out of
her misery; I also was looking forward to the more pleasurable part of her
punishment. At least, it would be
pleasurable on my end.
When I did get home, a little after six in
the evening, it was clear Janie had outdone herself. She was wearing her sexy pink lingerie set,
with the sheer, light pink, thigh-high stockings that looked enchanting on her
pale skin, and had done her hair and makeup.
The house was fairly sparkling. I
made a mental note to notice, later, some particular detail of what she had
cleaned, so I could praise her. In her
current mood of contrition, a small compliment would go a long way, I knew, and
would probably make her double her resolve to be a perfect companion. But now, it was time for what I'd been waiting
for all day.
After Janie took my bag and keys and put
them away, she came and knelt in front of me where I sat on the sofa. I stroked her hair for a moment, then asked,
"Does it still taste bad?" She
nodded. "Are you
thirsty?" More vigorous nodding. I held out my hand and Janie gratefully spat
out the ball--but not without sucking it dry first, and I was proud of her.
"Go into the kitchen and get a glass
of water from the faucet. Swish with
half of it and spit it out, then drink the other half. Come back here when you're done."
While my slave hastened to do my bidding,
I watched her progress with my eyes trained on her shapely ass where it peeked
out from under her teddy, framed beautifully by the delicate garter belts, and
let my arousal take over. When she came
back and knelt dutifully again between my thighs, I sat back and murmured,
"Take my cock out."
Janie was adept at disrobing me using only
her mouth, and she set about this task with alacrity. As soon as she pulled my boxers down with her
teeth, my erection sprang free. She
looked at me expectantly. "Start
with my balls," I said, and after a minute or two of that, I said,
"Now, stop, and look at me."
She did, with appropriate seriousness of
expression. "Do you want to suck my
cock?" I nearly always asked her
this--once again, the self-participation thing that kept her from indulging,
even for a minute, the comforting thought that she'd merely been forced--but
this time I continued, "And do you want to take my cum in your
mouth?" When she again assented, I
said, "Do you deserve to take my cum in your mouth?"
A tricky question. She looked at me with so much consternation
in her face that I said, "You may speak."
"Master," she said in a voice
slightly hoarse with disuse, "I want to deserve it. I--I will come to deserve it."
Brilliant, wasn't she? But I didn't show how pleased I was. "Janie, in a moment I'm going to let you
suck my cock. Now, I'll warn you when
I'm about to cum, and listen--when you hear that, you had better make sure my
cock head is in the front of your mouth, on your tongue. You are not going to swallow, and you are not
going to spit." In response to her
look of dawning comprehension, I said, "Yes, you are going to hold my cum
in your mouth until I say otherwise. And
if you spill even one drop I guarantee you'll regret it for the rest of the
week. Am I understood?"
She nodded seriously and I let her get to
work with her usual finesse. I had to
resist the urge to touch her glorious, full breasts, showing clearly through
the near-transparent fabric of the clinging teddy that matched her
stockings. I managed only because I
wanted her to do this completely on her own, to be thinking only of (and
perhaps dreading) the moment I filled her mouth with my cum, with no welcome
distractions.
I gave her at least four seconds of
warning, and she performed very well, frowning in concentration as she figured
out how to close her throat off and hold my whole deposit in her mouth while
still sucking me dry. When she pulled
her mouth free, with an audible pop since she was trying to keep her lips
sealed, I could tell she was trying to school her features into a neutral cast,
and was holding her tongue out of the way like she had with the Rodrepel-coated
ball. "Did you swallow any?" I
demanded. She shook her head
earnestly. "Show me."
Janie tilted her head back and opened her
mouth gingerly so I could lean over her and see the milky fluid pooling on her
tongue. Her mouth was quite full, I saw
to my satisfaction--it must be thanks to my abstinence that morning. "Good," I said, and she closed her
mouth. "Now, still without
swallowing or spilling, I want you to swish that cum around in your mouth, like
it's mouthwash." She started to
look distressed, but my slave girl complied, carefully moving the liquid from
side to side. "A little more
enthusiasm, Janie," I admonished.
"Let me see it moving against your cheeks and lips. Squish it between your teeth and under your
tongue." I saw her hands clench at
her sides, but she managed well, though she wouldn't look at me, and her face
was turning red.
"Get up and come with me," I
ordered, shedding my pants as I stood.
Janie walked carefully, as if she were afraid relaxing too much would
cause her to involuntarily swallow. She
looked so stiff that I nearly laughed. I
led her into the bedroom and over to the full-length mirror on the bathroom
door, shed my shirt, and stood naked behind her. I gripped her smoothly rounded hips to
position her directly in front of the mirror and used her hair to pull her head
back slightly. "Open your mouth and
look at yourself," I commanded, and Janie did, still blushing, and still
stiff and nervous. "Do you
see?" I murmured in her ear. She
closed her mouth and turned her head to look at my face. "You look so sexy to me right now,"
I said, and kissed her gently on her closed lips.
Her eyes moistened and she smiled as best
she could with her mouth carefully full of my cum. I held her in a loose embrace, facing me, and
said, "Okay, Janie, in a minute, I'm going to tell you to swallow. But I don't want you to gulp it down. Take your time--little sips, okay?"
Needless to say, whenever Janie sucked me
off over the next several weeks, she had to do her "swish," as we
came to call it. But this technique
seemed to work, as Janie overcame her aversion to tasting me and it ceased to
be an issue. Moreover, her contrition
and consequent extremely good behavior lasted long enough that I was forced to
practically manufacture reasons to punish her for the rest of that month.
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