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Story of the training of male slaves
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
CHAPTER ONE
THE REPORTER
My name is Kathleen Krekovitch and I am a free-lance reporter. The following
story is one which few will believe because it is so unusual, but it is
nonetheless true. Female domination is far more widespread than imagined.
I managed to get an extended interview with one of the best known and
certainly the most wealthy of the Mistresses in Mexico. The interview cost
five thousand dollars, which I thought was a lot, but it turns out that this
is about the fee for a one-week lease. Her name is Madame Diane and she
operates in Mexico because she gets less interference with the police as
they are easier to bribe than those in the United States. Even so, the
majority of her clientele are wealthy American women. She trains male
slaves.
"There is a technique to it," she said, "but that technique depends greatly
upon the individual male involved. The main thing is that he has to learn
that all of his vaunted strength and supposed intellect, what a laugh, are
but there to serve a woman better. Let me show you."
She took me to an apartment complex and I had a view of the courtyard from
behind a one-way mirror.
"We will take you through the stages of training one we have selected for an
actress in California. The subject lifts weights and is careful with his
health, except on Friday nights when he drinks. We have been planning this
abduction and capture for a month now and today is the day we get him. He
was up late last night and now will shower and appear in the sun below. You
may take notes, but be careful not to interfere or you will regret it."
CHAPTER TWO
CAPTURE OF THE SUBJECT
It was one of those cool but sunny days, just a few days before summer
officially ended. He had been up late the night before having a few drinks
and watching the baseball game on T.V. and whatever else followed. About
11:00, he woke, took a brief shower, put on his brief posing suit and
stretched out in the sun, hoping to relax for a while as his head cleared.
About an hour later, he began to hear some feminine giggles and activity
from the apartment above. He looked up, but only saw the rows of balconies
with some stereos playing off in the distance. Nothing special, he thought.
He closed his eyes again and then heard some doors sliding open. At that
point, he looked up and saw one of the girls in the apartment above him sort
of toss a glass of water over the balcony and leave quickly as the water
landed on his chest.
He simply moved his blanket over and away a few feet to avoid further
accidents and shortly heard "What did he do?"
"He just moved away."
Then they began to talk among themselves a bit, but he couldn't make out
what they said. he was about to give up the whole thing when one of them
put her head over the railing and said "Hi. Isn't it cold?"
"Not really, why'd you throw water on me?"
"That was my room-mate. Does that tanning-blanket get you more tan?"
"I don't know, but it's a lot easier to clean," he said.
She went back into her apartment and he thought that was the last of it and
closed his eyes again. Suddenly, he felt something again, something rough to
his skin. He looked and saw ropes across his chest. He started to get up and
was pulled to the side and to the ground again. They had thrown a net on him
and had pulled it tight. No matter how he tried, he just got himself tied up
more tightly. Then about ten or twelve of them came from various locations
and together, they pulled him along the ground, gathered up the top ropes,
fastened them to a hook suspended from the roof, lifted him upward and swung
him into one of the apartments. The doors and windows were shut, but it was
very bright inside.
"Stop struggling" said one of them as she prodded him with an electric
cattle prod. "We need to see how much you like the water," she said.
Others giggled and a few laughed, pushing one another. He was lifted a bit
into the air and into a glass cage filled with ice-water. He could feel the
water bite into his muscles and then began to shiver. Still, they kept him
in and he began to feel the ropes tighten. He passed out, because the next
thing he knew was that he was on his back on a platform on the floor.
As he began to move, he felt a sharp sting on his arm and one of the girls
said "Be careful. Don't move unless you want to get cut bad."
He saw what she meant. He was surrounded by sharp pointed knives thrusting
up from inside the wooden platform. If he moved, he would be cut.
"Now we get to see how much self-control you have. That is a nice, brief,
sexy, suit you've got on. Where'd you get it?" He started to look around
again, but she said, "No, that's why we brought you up here. When we talk,
you answer."
She then began to run a large feather up and down his legs. He wanted to
draw back from it, but wanted to avoid the blades. This agony continued for
a long time and the sweat began to cover him.
"I guess he needs to be cooled off," another said and ice water hit him.
He didn't dare move. He lay there, afraid to move a muscle for hours, while
the girls discussed what to do with him. All of them seemed excited and all
had ideas, some more cruel than the other. Finally, a compromise was decided
upon.
"We've decided to give you a shave," one said and she pulled out a razor and
sharpened it on a leather strap.
She began with his chest, then his legs and then pulled down his suit to get
his pubic hair when one said, "Why not try my way?"
The others agreed loudly. Her way was to pull the hairs out one at a time.
The pain from each was intense and he had to remain completely still because
of the knives, but the cumulative pain was even more vicious. This torment
went on for hours it seemed and, when it was over, he simply lay there
whimpering.
"Just like a puppy dog spanked for being naughty," said one and this gave an
idea to some of the others.
"I think we should keep him!"
"What?"
"Keep him. Like a pet."
"You mean a slave, a captive slave."
"Yeah."
All of them thought this was a good idea and began to confer about it. Soon,
two of them tossed ropes around his neck and one said "Now we are going to
let you up. You will listen and obey or experience great pain."
Then the knives disappeared into the platform, but before he was able to
relax, he was told to stand.
"Drink this," said one.
He asked "What is it?" and felt a sharp vibrating sting on his ass.
"Do as we say," she said and he obeyed.
CHAPTER THREE
A NEW BEGINNING
He awoke in another place, not the apartment. He later learned that it was
the mansion belonging to one of the girl's father who was out of the country
at the time. He noticed that he was wearing a sweat suit. He began to look
around when a tall, husky looking woman came in, dressed in military garb.
"I will be in charge of your physical fitness. You will do as you are told
or be punished. If you do well, you will be rewarded. We may even take you
out for a walk if you make exceptional progress."
She held a whip in her hand to back up her authority. He began to look around
but she said "I wouldn't try to escape if he were you. All the windows are
barred and the building is surrounded by guard dogs. Also, each of us is
armed in one way or another. Now it is time for you to begin your workout."
He was led to the gym. The gym had the usual equipment, but added were several
video cameras which were operated by some of the same girls he saw at the
apartment. There were also some other pieces of equipment he was unfamiliar
with, but which soon would become all too well-known to him.
"It is time for you to start," she said and pointed to one of the stations.
Each time, as he approached his limit, she shouted that he had to do one more
and, if he didn't, the sharp cattle prod hit him. He was soon exhausted and
his muscles sore. He had never worked out this intensely before.
"Second time around," she barked, and he looked at her in disbelief. He could
hardly move.
She pointed again to the benchpress and he laid down and tried to lift once
again, but was unable to move the bar even an inch.
"I guess you need to learn what happens when you don't go all out for us," she
said, and ordered him to stand up, which he could barely do.
The video cameras were running as he was ordered to take off his jacket. At
first he refused, but she held a whip and he knew that she was ready to use
it. Then the pants. One at a time, he was told to remove the shoes, socks,
shirt and shorts. He was wearing only a posing suit, but this one was yellow
-- he had never seen it before.
"We hope you like the color," she said."NOW GIRLS," she shouted and ten or so
came in through the door and pulled him over to one of the machines he had
wondered about, a large wheel-like device with four loops, one at each end to
form a square.
The girls forced his wrists and ankles into each of the loops and they were
drawn tight. He tried to struggle, but after the long, two hour workout, he
was weaker than even two of them, much less ten working together. Then the
loops were drawn tight and he was stretched spread-eagled on that cursed
wheel. The wheel spun a few times.
"That was to let you know what could be coming," said one who just entered
wearing leather slacks and a jacket.
"O.K. girls, now is the time for your suggestions, put them into this hat. The
best one wins."
The girls began to write and then put their suggestions into the hat. She read
each one, and they applauded. The one that got the loudest applause won. He
was very frightened when two suggestions in particular got loud cheers, both
of which would involve permanent disfigurement. He could hardly believe being
relieved at the suggestions that won. First, he received ten lashes on the
legs, arms, chest and midsection with a short, thick whip. Then the loops were
drawn apart more sharply. As he was stretched taut, two girls began a
wrestling match. It was particularly vicious, although he didn't see all of it
since he almost passed out from the strain on his legs particularly. Finally,
one ripped off the other's bra and pinned her and the defeated one was led
outside.
The victor approached him and put her finger around the waistband of the
yellow suit. She pulled sharply and ripped it off, leaving a yellow posing
strap. The cameras moved in. She then teased his prick until it pushed at the
strap which she pulled off. She then pulled out some elastic and wrapped it
around his cock and balls and began to suck on his prick. She continued this
until he was ready to come against his will and then stopped and nodded to the
one in leather. This time, he received fifteen lashes on each spot and his
skin was red. She also pulled out the prod and ran it up his legs and down his
chest. The sweat again began to pour down his body. The winner came up to him
again and started over, this time inserting something up his rear. This object
had a long wire attached to it and the other end was fastened to a box with a
lever on it. As she began to tease his cock and it rose again to full height,
she pushed the lever slowly and he felt a sting pain in his bowels and became
soft again. This was repeated over and over, much to the perverted delight of
those bitches just sitting there enjoying his agony. She aroused him again and
began to bite him in little nibbles. With this, the bitches wanted to join in,
but she jumped on him, held his shoulders and wrapped her feet around his legs
and slid up and down on him until she came, but the elastic still held him
stiff as others did the same. Finally, after ten of them had finished with
him, the one with the leather came and undid the elastic. She put her hand
around his prick and he came.
CHAPTER FOUR
MADAME SPEAKS AGAIN
After about of week of observing the things they were doing to this man, I
asked to see Madame Diane again. Above all, I wanted to know why they did
certain things.
Q: What is the purpose of all this?
A: I get paid $20,000 for a subject plus $5,000 per week. He has to be
attractive, well-built, and, above all, obedient.
Q: But how does this all make him obedient? The one I've been observing seems
to be resentful, if anything.
A: He is still in the early stages. First we initiate him, that was the
apartment. They come to think of it as a doorway and actually hope to go
back there. That's why we have them here where the police don't bother us.
They actually think it's some sort of summer home that belongs to one of
the girls.
Q: What about the woman in military garb?
A: He will eventually think of her as his mother, the one who takes care of
him. You see, part of this is also to reduce them to the same mind set
they had when they were twelve. Some we have to take all the way back to
toilet training, but not this one.
Q: Why not?
A: This one is specially commissioned by someone who like a bit of resentment
and independence. It's really quite a delicate job.
Q: What about the one in leather?
A: She is punishment. He will learn to do anything she commands -- that is
part of our brainwashing.
Q: What about the cameras?
A: Insurance and extra profits. He knows about them, so we can blackmail him.
At the same time, we rent the videos for parties of professional women.
Q: Isn't this all a bit cruel?
A: He isn't a human being to me, he is just another subject who will bring a
profit if properly trained.
Q: Trained for what?
A: All of my products are capable of acting a variety of roles. They can
endure, obey, be women, captive slaves, horses, dogs, gladiators, etc.
Q: Gladiators?
A: Right. You know how popular professional wrestling is? Did you know that
most of the audience is women? And they know it is fake. Think of how much
they would pay if it were real, but with real rules to prevent permanent
damage which would, of course, reduce the value of the men. Of course, the
pain and the sweat are real, as is the humiliation.
Q: Humiliation?
A: Right, humiliation is one of our chief weapons. They must know that they
are totally in our hands, that they have no control over their fate, that
we are their total masters.
Q: How do you train for gladiators?
A: He begins that training tomorrow. Why not observe?
CHAPTER FIVE
COMBAT AND PAIN
"In the combat training, the most important thing we teach them is that the
penalty for loosing is very great. Too many of them will simply suffer
defeat, let themselves be pinned, rather than suffer further. They have to
think that defeat is the worst that can happen to them and the only way we
can do that is by showing them what happens if they lose. But first, they
have to lose and that is what this session is about."
Madame Diane was obviously excited about this phase of the training and quite
talkative about it.
"One of the most glorious and sexy sights is two men fighting for the pleasure
of on-looking women," she said and continued to talk until she was called
away and I was left alone to watch.
I was near ringside. The ring was much like a boxing ring, only this one was
surrounded by women, all of them quite expectant of what would come next. I
saw the captive brought in -- he had his hands tied behind him and was wearing
a robe. Underneath he was wearing sturdy but scant trunks.
"That's so they can take punishment, but only so much," said Kathy who sat
down besides me. "Diane asked me to answer your questions."
In came the opponent, a large, ugly man, who looked like a Russian
weightlifter, wearing blue jeans and a sweatshirt.
"That's Ivan, the one who breaks in the new men. Remember, they have to learn
the agony of defeat," Kathy laughed.
The bell rang and Ivan came out slowly, smiling. Danny, I learned his name
was, still had his robe on, but the referee, the girl in the leather, stopped
the bout to remove it, much to the delight of the spectators. Danny was well-
muscled, even more so as a result of his week in captivity, but clearly was no
match for the experienced and heavier Ivan. Ivan slowly cut off the ring and
Danny moved to avoid him. Then Ivan got hold of his arm and put Danny in an
armlock and began to apply pressure. I could see the pain on his face. As he
seemed about to drop, Ivan turned him around, picked him up and threw him to
the canvas. The spectators screamed with delight. Danny got up and was
rewarded by a full-nelson. The pain must have been terrible. Somehow, Danny
slipped out. Ivan charged in anger and Danny managed to flip him over, showing
that he had wrestled somewhere before. He dove to pin Ivan, but the referee
reached for a cattle prod and stung Danny who moved away. Now Ivan was angry.
He grabbed Danny by the hair and threw him against the ropes, slapping him as
he bounced off. Danny slumped to his knees. Ivan pulled him up by his hair and
got him in a backwards bear-hug as Danny kicked and waved his arms.
The girls screamed and shouted "Pull them off," and Ivan did.
Ivan was not finished yet however. He tied Danny's arms in the ropes and
punched him in the gut over and over again. He stretched his legs apart and
then chocked him. I must admit that even I was becoming aroused at this sight,
a handsome, muscular man, writhing in agony, sweating and straining, in the
nude, right in front of me.
"Now you should see the punishment," Kathy said, as she gave a signal to the
one in leather.
Ivan finished off Danny witha few kicks and then pinned him. At another
signal, Danny was tied to the floor.
"Now we begin the teaching part. Notice all these women here? They've paid $50
a ticket for this and unless the man puts up a good fight, they expect some
real punishment. He did O.K., considering, but he still must learn."
A woman dressed as a nurse came into the ring and pulled out a hypodermic and
injected it into his arm.
"This will give him great pain and agony," Kathy said and she was right.
Danny began to squirm and twist on the canvas, almost in spasms and then began
to cry out. The one in leather pulled out a whip at this and began to swing
away. This lasted for about five glorious minutes and then silence. Slowly,
the one in leather removed his trunks, as all looked almost in reverence. The
drug also had the effect of producing a tall, stiff erection. It stood out in
the center of Danny, in the center of the canvas, pulsing as Danny still
quivered. I wanted to feel it within myself, but the drawing started. After
the winning number was called, a woman got up, pulled up her dress and sat on
it and rose and sat and rose until she came. Then came others. Still it stood
up, with us all looking in wonder. The one with leather pulled out a knife and
moved toward it. All were silent as she moved the knife along it. Danny looked
in terror. She moved her arm back and started to swing forward and Danny
passed out.
"Perfect timing," said Kathy, "He'll remember that!"
Danny was carried out on a stretcher as the women watched, somewhat reverent,
but spent, and completely satisfied.
CHAPTER SIX
ON DISPLAY
The next technique I witnessed was designed to strip the subjectof all self-
dignity, to remove all vestiges of modesty. The guy was strapped, fully, but
deceptively, clothed, on a rack similar to the one in the gym. This time,
however, he was at full strength and awareness and was beyond a short fence
about fifteen feet away from where the women would walk by. It was sort of a
game. The women would pay $5 to pull a lever which was attached to a slot
machine and three lemons would cause one piece of his clothing to be removed.
At first, the action was slow, but it was only noon and the booth had been
open for only about half an hour. Slowly, however, parts of his clothing began
to disappear. First, his shoes and socks, which were presented to the winner.
Next, the shirt and slacks and I could see his muscles straining at the bonds,
but to no avail. After hours, his undershirt - and then he was left only in a
swim suit. The next winner left him in only a posing suit and then the action
stepped up and so did the shouting. The next winner left him with a strange
looking suit -- the front looked like a posing suit, but the rear was cut so
that his solid, firm buttocks were on display. His face turned red as play was
stopped. The women stared, looked, shouted, made suggestions, for about an
hour. Then play resumed and the next winner left him with just a posing strap.
A new woman, wearing a flowing white gown, came in. She pulled another lever
and the wheel moved down and toward the crowd.
His bonds shifted so that he lay at attention on his back. He was surrounded
by the women who could look, but not touch, talk but not do. He was thus left
on display for ten hours as hundreds of women of all types walked by and
stared, each making their own comment on all aspects of him.
This had two effects: First, it was to thoroughly degrade him to think of
himself as perpetually naked before woman. Second, it would raise the bidding
for the final piece of cloth. The angel in white pulled the lever again and he
was returned to his original position on the rack. The winner got to remove
the strap personally and then wires were attached to various parts of his
body. The slot machine began to whirl again and each win sent a shock of
varying intensity to an appropriate part of the body. This continued for
another five hours and I could see that he was fully exhausted and broken,
whimpering and trembling, with the hint of tears from his eyes. I didn't know
if I should contribute to this sadism by being here, or if I should let myself
go and try to get him for myself. I found the instinct in me driving me to try
the slot-machine and I finally did. As I looked back, it was pretty sick, but
at the time, I couldn't help myself, so carried away I was with the chance to
be the dominant one. I pulled the lever and got the triple lemons and the
result was horrible and wonderful. Every muscle in his body stood out as if he
was a human anatomy chart! The pain and strain must have been immense, but all
I could think about was what a wonderful creation he was. Those muscles called
from my soul all the strongest drives I had hidden behind my professional
demeanor. Then, he was left there to rest, but still on display.
"You'll get a chance at him later, if you want," Kathy said, "but now he has
to stay like that until he thinks of it as his natural condition. That way,
Madame Diane can take him to his next step and I know you'll want to see
that."
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE STRIPPER
Madame Diane led me into a large auditorium which was empty.
"This is my second favorite part of the training and it is doubtless the most
erotic. By now, he believes everything we tell him."
"What have you told him?" I asked.
"Well, this goes back to the belly dance. It was originally done in the harem
by women who had to dance in competition to get the attention of the master,
to arouse him into wanting to have sex with her. How disgusting! Well, we've
turned it around. Lois, the one in leather, has told him that if he did not
get $100 in tips put into his clothes, he would be strapped to that board and
whipped from behind."
I looked at the board. It had sharp nails protruding from it so that if he
recoiled from the whip, he would be cut.
"That," I said, "looks particularly vicious."
"No more than what men have done to women," she said. "Also, he has been able
to talk to another guy for the first time in a month, but he doesn't know he
is one of our well-trained slaves. He has told him horrifying stories of men
mutilated on that board, so I'm sure he will give a good performance."
Then the women began to file into the auditorium, about two hundred, all in a
very festive mood. They talked and chatted for awhile as drinks were served
and soon became impatient. Then thelights went out and the music started, the
theme from 2001. The spots came on and out came Danny. Danny began to dance.
The music faded and drums took over. He seemed to fall in with the rhythm of
the jungle drums.
"The drug we gave him," whispered Diana, "makes it impossible for him to
ignore the beat."
Danny began to strip and soon peeled down to a pair of scantybriefs, buttocks
exposed. He moved close to the frantic women and leaned over backward as they
put bills into his crotch, some grabbing a feel as they did so. The mood was
intense and the women were wild. Danny moved back and pulled off the suit,
leaving him with only a posing strap to cover his nudity. After the last
lesson, he didn't care about that, only about getting more bills. The women
shouted out poses and postures for him to assume and he did them, never
missing a beat. It was wonderful and captivating, animal like energy and
vigor. And Danny was lean and muscular, not an ounce of fat on him and every
muscle seemed to offer itself to the nearest woman and all in time to the beat
of the drums. Again, I found myself as horny as I've ever been and Danny kept
on. Soon, he was only five dollars away and writhed on his back, holding the
elastic of the posing strap with one hand and his other palm out to the
audience. A fat drunk woman held out the $5 he needed and he pulled off his
strap and gave it to her. He then ran toward the box to deposit it as the
women stormed the stage. They piled on top of him, but he had made his quota.
They poked him, pulled his prick, stuck their fingers up his ass, but he
relaxed and let them have their way, for he had made his quota.
"You see, he feels no desire to run. He is just happy he has done what we told
him to do. A far cry from that afternoon in the apartment, eh?" said Diana
with pride.
"But now there is no spirit," I said, "doesn't that defeat your purpose?"
"Ah, but he is spirited enough to do whatever we say to please us, no matter
how hard it is. That's the spirit we want," she said as she blew a whistle.
In came ten women dressed in the leather costumes and cleared the pile of
women and led Danny away. His eyes were glazed, but he smiled faintly.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ANIMAL TRAINING
"This is Madame Diana's favorite part, the horse training part," said Mistress
Kathy. "She got the idea from a magazine article she saw a few years ago and
refined it into an art. She really believes in it and supervises the training
personally."
We were in a medium sized room, off to the side. I had been told to stay out
of the way, keep my mouth shut and not to interfere. Danny was led, naked,
into the room by a leash attached to a collar around his neck. He smiled.
"Hands and feet, slave!" shouted Diana as she cracked a riding crop against
his face, "and wipe that smile off your face!"
"I only aim to please," said Danny.
Instantly Diana was on him like a woman possessed, wailing away with the crop.
"Never speak to me! Horses don't speak! Hands and knees!" And Danny kneeled
down. "Now for the bit and bridle," she announced.
It was nothing more than a long, blue piece of string. She wrapped it around
his cock and balls, then pulled either end of it across his chest and over his
shoulders. She then sat on his back and gave a sharp tug. I could see him
wince.
"One means to go forward, another to stop. If I pull on the right string, like
this," as she gave another sharp tug on one side, "it means to go right. If I
pull on the left, like this, go left. Now go!" she said as she tugged again
and Danny began to walk on his hands and knees with Diana astride him.
Kathy whispered to me. "Actually, Danny's very lucky."
As I saw Danny, muscles straining, I wondered how he could be considered
lucky.
"Madame Diana has two kinds of horses, riding and pulling. Danny is for
riding. However, he will be given some training in pulling and then you will
see."
At that, Madame Diana gave another tug and Danny stopped.
"Hold your head up," she said, as she gave him a whack of his exposed
buttocks, "and act like a horse, not a cow," and she gave him two more before
he held his head up. "You need to remember at all times that you're nothing
but a horse; perhaps this will help you," she said as the one in leather
handed her a foot long stick with hair attached to one end. "This is your
tail," she said and proceeded to stick the end of it into his ass.
It wouldn't go at first, so she put some oil on it and then twisted and turned
it.
"Loosen up," she barked as she lashed him with the small riding crop.
He tried and the stick went in. She then sat on his back again and gave the
tug. She rode him out the door and I heard applause coming from outside. I
looked at Kathy.
"You haven't seen our race track yet," she said. "Come with me."
We went out the other door and around the building, up some stairs and we were
in the grandstands, overlooking the racetrack. Actually, there were two
tracks, a longer, smooth track on the outside and a shorter, cinder covered
one on the inside. I saw Danny on his hands and knees, Madame Diana, dressed
in riding clothes, astride him. Next to him was another "horse" and rider. In
the center was the same board I had seen at the dance performance, but with
different looking needles. I wondered at this, but soon I heard a shot. They
were off! The women in the stands were screaming and shouting for their
favorite. The race was neck and neck for awhile until Danny stumbled. Madame
Diana reacted promptly by slashing her whip, not against her mount, but the
face of the other rider who fell off. Danny straightened out and continued and
the other rider remounted and began to whip her mount. It was an exciting
contest, made more so by the screaming and shouting of the women fans. In the
end, Mistress Diana won.
"This victory means about 20% more in fees she can charge and it is a loss for
Madame Fagan. To regain respect, she will punish her mount. This could have
happened to our subject," explained Kathy.
At this point, the other man was strapped facing the needles. Madame Fagan
took a whip and began to lash him. As he recoiled from the whip, his body was
thrown against the sharp needles. He recoiled, only to meet the whip again.
Then flinching toward the needles and back again. The women watching were
quieter than I expected, then I noticed that they all had their hands between
their legs, masturbating as they watched the agony and destruction of this
man.
CHAPTER NINE
BEAST OF BURDEN
That was not to be the end of Danny's training.
"He is now to be trained for the penis pull. He has seen what happens to a
loser, and will try hard," said Kathy.
Danny came out again, walking on two feet, led by Madame Diana by the string
attached to his cock and balls. Danny stood at attention on the cinder track
as Madame tightened the plastic string and then attached the other end to what
looked a bit like a Roman Chariot.
She got in the chariot and shouted "Walk backward!"
Danny tried, but the pain made it difficult. A lash from a long whip caught
him across the chest and he tried again, this time pulling the chariot by his
penis. I could see the agonized look on his face, almost feel the tremendous
pain he must be experiencing and was also aroused against my will. He had to
pull the cart around the entire track without uttering a sound and do it
within a certain time.
"He's lucky this in only a demonstration. If he was trained for this, rather
than the race, and he lost, he would be hung from his penis until he fell
unconscious or until it ripped off. Both have happened. As it is, if he
doesn't make it, there is a punishment."
Danny strained, moving backward, along the track. I had always noticed his
upper body muscles, but now his thighs became tight and muscular as well. I
could see him begin to sweat from the strain and I could see the agony in his
face. Every second, I thought his cock would be pulled out of its socket, but
he managed to continue. I looked around and noticed for the first time that
there were some men as well in the stands. Cameras were flashing, movie
cameras were out, as well as videos. Many of the fans had their hands between
their legs and other were shouting. Madame Diana whipped Danny again and he
began to move faster. Time was running out and she didn't want to loose her
investment. One more lash and Danny made it across the finish line and then
doubled over in pain, clutching at his groin. As he did, those in the stands
reached their own climaxes and Danny was carried out by the arms.
"Now he'll rest for a few days, and then on to other things, "Kathy said.
CHAPTER TEN
AN OFFER FROM DIANA
So far, I had felt that I was a reporter and did not have any obligation to
intervene or tell the police. In fact, I had the duty to protect my sources.
However, I had also had second thoughts because I had become horny, not a few
time during this story. Still, I thought I could justify it to myself for
professional reasons. Then Madame Diana summoned me to her office. I had never
seen her office before. It was a luxurious, business like place, except for
the pictures hanging on the wall depicting men in various stages of nudity and
servitude, nakedness and agony. She motioned for me to sit down.
"Each man I train must be able to serve his mistress well. I can break him in
so that he has the desire to serve. I can strip him of all dignity and
resistance. I can build his body and control his brain. The one thing I can't
do, however, is see how he functions out there," she said pointing off
somewhere.
"So how can you guarantee he will please?" I asked.
"Trial run," she said. "Mistress Kathy has told me that you have been looking
at our stud with more than, shall I say, a professional interest? I see.
Well, I am offering him to you for one night, free of charge. Throw a party,
invite your friends and have him there as a servant. All I ask is a full
report, complete with any complaint from anyone he fails to please. The only
restriction is that the party be all-female. My client is very particular
that her stud be clean."
"But my friends are all in Chicago, San Francisco and New York," I pointed
out.
"We will fly them down here," she said, "Perhaps I can arrange for a series of
parties starring some of my other trainees as well. The expense will be
recovered from the rentals, anyway," she said.
I agreed and left her office. I then went to my room and began to think. I had
already agreed, so that wasn't the point. It just seemed to me that I was
getting deeper and deeper into something I hadn't expected to. I went
downstairs to the booth by the gym. Through the one-way mirror, I could see
him working out, being put through his paces by the woman in the military
garb. He was about six feet tall, 195 pounds. His hair was light brown and his
body was shaved clean. His face was handsome, but what I noticed most was his
body. Not an ounce of fat on it and his muscles stood out as he strained them
under her watchful eye. His pectorals at the benchpress and butterfly, his
biceps doing curls, his ripped thighs at the leg extension machine and his
abdominals at several exercises, leg raises being the sexiest. How could I
pass up this opportunity, I thought to myself and went back to my room to send
out the invitations and then to plan the agenda, leaving room for suggestions.
I invited only the horniest and most aggressive of my friends, but still there
would be twenty or thirty at the party. I could hardly wait!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AN INVITATION AND DISCUSSION
I was sitting in my room, reviewing some of the video tapes from one of the
shelves. It was difficult for me to imagine these things happening in real
life and I was almost convinced that the guys on my T.V. screen were actors. I
was in the middle of one that showed a man being forced to walk, wearing high
heels, past a crowd of women when I heard a knock at my door. I opened the
door and Kathy was there.
"Hi," she said, "I see you've been watching television."
"Interesting productions," I said, "where do you get the actors?"
"What actors?"
"The ones in the tapes."
"Those aren't actors -- they're guys we captured one way or another. We taped
their training or punishment episodes and sell the tapes," she said.
"I can't believe it," I said, "some of those things are unimaginable. I mean,
a guy can only tolerate so much. There comes a point when . . ."
"When we can no longer understand how they survive it, but they do," she
interrupted.
"I still can't believe it," I said.
"Well, this works out well. Madame Diana sent me to give you a tour of our
facilities. So far, you have only seen the select ones we used for your pet
Danny, but it's time you got the overall picture. You see, an operation like
this can not operate just by supplying a few subjects to a few customers; we
need a variety of products for a larger clientele," she said.
"I can't believe that there is that large a clientele for this sort of thing,"
I said, feeling a bit self-righteous.
"Well, I don't know all the details of the business side of the operation,
Madame Diane handles that, but think of it this way: how many times have you
yourself, before you came here, seen some guy doing something you didn't
like? Maybe he was acting a bit superior, maybe a bit drunk and loud, perhaps
shouting things at you?"
I admitted that this happened quite frequently in the big city, but asked what
could be done about it.
"This is what can be done about it, this entire operation. Every woman who has
ever had the desire to get even with some man is a potential customer and
what she wanted to do to him is a potential need we supply. The only thing we
need to do is let them know that it is alright to get revenge or to have a
little fun," Kathy said.
"Is that what it's about, then, revenge and fun?"
"Depends on how you look at it. For example, many women like to dominate men,
to control them, almost as an instinct, but do you call that revenge? Fun? Or
just satisfying a need? In any case, our clientele grows daily and we have
over 50,000 satisfied customers," she said with certainty.
"Then how come I haven't heard about it?" I asked.
"Come now," she said, "Haven't you seen stories about an incident here and an
incident there? You just thought of them as isolated fantasies when, in fact,
they were real stories about real situations, mostly involving men we have
trained. On the whole, however, our clients prefer to keep this part of their
lives to themselves and their friends."
"I still find it hard to believe."
"Then follow me," she said, as she walked out the door.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE TOUR - PART ONE
"So what would you like to see? You've already seen the combat, the dancing,
the exercise, the horse training and the penis pull - but that was just a
demonstration, would you like to see the contest?" Kathy asked.
I said that I was ready, as a reporter, to see anything if it would contribute
to the story, but asked what other things there were to see.
"Well, let's see, there's the athletic contests, the seminar room, the art
room, the laboratory, other animal training facilities, the punishment palace
.... I think you'd like to see some other animal acts, perhaps?"
"What about other strippers?" I asked.
"Oh yes," Kathy said, "that's one of our more popular shows, but it's all
pretty much the same idea. They have to please through exhibition. Anyway,
those are in the evenings. Right now, we've got a new subject for dog
training. Game?"
I said I was and we were off to the animal facilities center which was
located on the edge of the complex. I noticed a ring like those in a circus in
the center. Kathy told me that this was where the training went on.
"You're in luck," she said, "because today, we try a new technique. This will
be the first time we've tried to tame one without preliminary conditioning.
He's both an experiment and a control subject. It's bound to be particularly
cruel," she finished with a giggle.
In the center of the ring was a woman, but not like Madame Diane. This one was
attractive, but she looked more like she came from a street gang.
"Actually," Kathy said, "she was one of the girls on a motorcycle gang and she
was used pretty bad. Now she wants to get even. She fought ten girls to get
this job."
I looked at her.
"Oh, yes. Most of our employees first rented tapes, then attended contests and
shows and then asked to work for us. They are all very dedicated workers.
Shh!"
A door opened and a man stood there. He was good looking, in his twenties, but
the most interesting thing is how he was dressed. He was wearing a coat and
tie, dress shoes, the works. He looked like the junior partner in a law firm.
I was told that he was captured only a few hours ago to be trained for a woman
who wanted a pet dog.
"He's lucky," she said, "in that she wanted a Doberman. He wont have to be
fitted with a tail. We will have to work on his ears, though, if he works
out."
I started to ask about this, but the girl, Alice, called Alley, began.
"Come here, dog."
The man started to ask where he was, but Alley stopped him.
"Take off your clothes!" she shouted and cracked a whip.
This whip was not like the one used on Danny. That one would give pain, but
was designed not to cut the skin. This one was longer, made out of leather and
branched out into three smaller and sharper whips near the end. The man threw
up his arms and the sleeve was ripped off.
"Kim!" shouted Alley.
An Oriental girl entered, wearing what looked like a kinomo, but which had the
sides slit up to her waist. She looked at the man, bowed to Alley and went to
him. She kicked him in the groin without warning, he doubled over, she kneed
him in the face, then chopped him to the throat, he fell, she kicked him again
and again and left as Alley cracked the whip.
"Take your clothes off," she repeated.
He took off his jacket, tie, and shirt and then hesitated. Alley whistled the
whip and he finished, stripping down to his colored underwear. He was flabby
compared to Danny and the others I'd seen here, but then he'd only been here
for a few hours and wasn't bad compared to others I'd seen at the pool.
"Hands and knees," and the whip hit him. He got down on his knees. "You are a
dog, bark" she said. He didn't and was whipped again. "I see he needs some
discipline," Alley said and began to whip some more.
This went on for about twenty minutes and the man was bleeding and miserable,
but also yelling and screaming.
"Obviously, it works better by stages," said Kathy. "If Alley couldn't do it,
nobody could. Still, Alley will be in charge of this one throughout his
training and today will take the place of the apartment in his
rehabilitation. We will check on him later."
As we left the training room, I felt a bit depressed. Somehow, the clinical
attitude bothered me.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE TOUR - PART TWO
There was a knock at my door and a handsome young man was standing there,
wearing nothing but a black posing suit and a bow tie.
"Madame Diana requests the pleasure of your company," he said.
"Suppose I don't want to go?" I asked.
He fell to his knees and began to beg me.
"Please, if you don't come, I'll be sent to punishment or the laboratory,
please, I'll do anything you want."
I believed him. "O.K.," I said, "lead away."
Madame Diana said, "It's time you saw our seminar room. It's where we teach
our new employees."
I followed her without a word to an amphitheater type room, the kind you see
in movies about med school.
"The professor is an ex-anatomy teacher at a large midwestern medical school.
She quit when she suspected that the men were discriminating against her.
Remember the injections we gave Danny? Well, she invented them. She is
working on NO-COME 2, a combination local anesthetic and stimulant, but
listen....."
A well-built woman in a doctor's jacket entered the room and wrote her name on
the board. Dr. Judith Silverstein. On the table in front of her was a man,
tied to the bench, with a gag taped in his mouth. He was obviously nervous and
frightened, but there was nothing he could do.I told Madame Diane that this
seemed unfair.
"He has failed in two consecutive tests. He gave up in combat after only
twenty minutes of punishment and failed to finish the penis run. This is his
punishment and our way of improving his attitude."
She spoke with such conviction that I didn't say anything else. Besides, the
professor began to lecture.
"A man is quite a different creature than a woman. He is inferior except in
muscle strength in the upper body and, of course, he has exposed genitalia,
which makes our task somewhat easier. Notice the muscles."
She then proceeded to name the major muscles, while isolating them with her
hands. At times, I thought she was about to pull one completely out of the
skin. The man clenched his teeth, sweated, groaned, whimpered and howled once
as she pulled on his abdominals.
"Of course, the gag helps, but the noise is still too much," she said. "This
will quiet him," she said and poured a liquid into his mouth which he gagged
on and tried to spit out. "This will paralyze his vocal chords so he can
scream, but not be heard. Now on with today's lecture, THE EFFECT OF TACTILE
INPUT ON PENILE ACTIVITY."
She pulled the towel that covered his loins and revealed that he was covered
only by a thin strip of cloth, a g-string or posing strap. He tried to gasp,
but we could only hear air passing down his throat. She then began an
elaborate series of experiments designed to determine which parts of the male
body could best be touched to produce an erection and which would bring it
back down. A slow movement across the abdominals, for example, brought his
penis to attention and a sharp squeeze of the balls brought it down. All this
time, the man looked from girl to girl in hope of a savior, but saw only grins
and smirks, or frowns.
"Now to test my newest compound, NO-COME 2. It may have side effects, but the
idea is to expand the penis to its largest potential and activity, but to
deaden sensation enough so that it will stay erect indefinitely. So far, the
record has been one hour, but I think we can do better than that here."
With that, she brought out a hypodermic and inserted the needle in his
scrotum. He tried to scream and, from the agony on his face, it seemed like
the most bloodcurdling scream I had ever heard, but no sound came out.
"Beautiful," she said, as she looked at his penis rise. "Shit! How can I
examine him with this in the way?" she shouted as she ripped the g-string
from him.
The girls gasped as they saw his penis exposed. The balls were bluish and the
penis throbbed toward the ceiling. The professor called for a student to come
forward and there were many hands up, but she called one from the front row.
"See if you can make him come," she said, and the girl proceeded with
professional expertise.
I learned that all students first learned how to masturbate men before they
were allowed into this class. After about fifteen minutes, she gave up.
"The most amazing thing about this is that he," she said, sticking a needle
into his pectorals, "didn't feel or enjoy a thing, but he is a whimpering
mess with his whole consciousness on his penis."
And it was true. As she poked and jabbed at various parts of his body, he only
thrust his hips upward. There was none of the crying out that we heard at the
beginning.
About ten hours later, we returned to the classroom and he was still there and
IT was still at attention, but he seemed to have lost about fifteen pounds.
Every muscle stood out and strained.
"Are you ready to fight again?" she asked him.
"Yes, please," he said, glad that he could once again speak.
"And complete the penis pull?"
"Yes, please, relieve me," he said.
"Very well," she said, "but first let's get some use out of him."
She signaled to the girls who lined up. Each one climbed on top of him and
brought herself to climax and still it stood, reaching up as if toward the
ceiling. All of a sudden, the clinical atmosphere didn't bother me anymore. I
was ready myself to join the fun, but the professor decided that it was time
to test the antidote. She inserted another hypodermic into his groin. Soon,
untouched, he began to squirt all over himself and I left for my room, hoping
I'd find the guy who knocked on my door.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MY OWN SERVANT
When I got to my room, I was still thinking about the seminar as I looked for
the guy who knocked on my door. I was frustrated to see that he wasn't there
and too caught up to realize that it had been twenty hours since I left the
room. I looked around and saw the button over my bed. I had wondered what it
was for, but never gave it much thought. This time, I pushed it. There was a
knock on my door within thirty seconds. I opened the door and there he was,
complete with the ingenuous briefs that covered the front but not the back and
a bow-tie.
"Yes ma'am," he said.
I motioned for him to enter the room and locked the door behind us.
"You are here to serve me?"
"I aim to please," he said.
"Anything?"
"Anything," he said evenly.
"On your knees, then," I said, and he knelt on the floor in front of me. "And
straighten up that back," I added.
He knelt, back straight, at attention, eyes forward. I walked or paced around
the room wondering what to do next. Here he was, a fine physical specimen, at
my complete command and I wasn't sure what to do next. At the same time, I
felt a bit of guilt as he knelt so submissively before me.
"Do you feel exposed, wearing only those tiny briefs?", I asked.
"No ma'am, not if it pleases you," he answered.
This was a bit frustrating, I thought. Part of the fun is having them feel
naked or exposed. There is some pleasure at their embarrassment, but this one
felt none. I tried another approach.
"Would you ever have felt exposed, dressed like this, in front of a strange
woman who had complete control over you?" I asked.
"Yes ma'am," he said, "in fact, my first time was quite horrible."
"Tell me about it," I ordered, and this was his story:
It happened after the amateur body building contest. I finished third, mainly
because, by bodybuilding standards, I was lean and wiry. I was, however, quite
happy as this was my first contest. Sure, I had practiced my posing in from of
a mirror in the gym and my coach had helped me, but it was quite a different
thing to perform in front of a large crowd wearing one of those suits. My
coach said I had done well, however and I felt good. I dressed and left
through the back door, carrying my check for $750 and trophy. All of a sudden,
I was surrounded by about fifteen girls. Well, I thought, this bodybuilding
racket is pretty good - looks like I've got a fan club. I was ready to sign
autographs even, when I felt a sharp thud at the rear of my skull, my knees
bent, I dropped the trophy and then blacked out.
"Look! I think he's coming around," I heard.
It was a female voice, but at the time I couldn't say more than that. My head
was splitting and throbbing at the same time.
"Give him the shot," another voice said and I felt a needle enter my arm.
Slowly my head began to clear. I tried to rub my eyes, but found I couldn't.
My wrists were tied out and above my head. I began to focus and saw women's
faces and then began to recognize some of them from earlier.
"He's awake now," another said, as I suddenly realized my situation.
I was bound by my wrists and ankles, spreadeagled on my back on a mat. I was
completely naked except for a posing strap, the kind artists models sometimes
wear, the kind that cover only the penis and balls. I attempted to get up.
"You're not going anywhere, dear boy," said the one in charge as the others
kind of giggled.
"Look at his stomach muscles" said another.
"That's nothing, wait 'til we get him going" said Alice, the one in charge.
With that, she began to move a long sharp needle up the insides of my legs and
I recoiled.
"Wow," said another, "I've got a bunch of things I want to do to him!"
I began to be fully alert and the adrenaline was pumping through my veins as
well as whatever they shot me up with. Fear or panic, combined with
helplessness were overcoming me, but I tried not to show it.
"Look how brave he is," one said.
"We'll see how long that lasts," said Alice as she came to me with another
needle, this time jabbing ever so lightly and sharply from my legs, to my
stomach, to by chest. "Look at those pectorals and abdominals move," she
said, over and over, for fully ten minutes.
At first, it did not hurt, but by five minutes, each jab was a severe shock,
by ten minutes it was agony and I began to scream out in response to each jab.
My breathing became more and more rapid, my pulse was racing and every part of
my skin seemed to be on fire.
"Not so brave now, eh honey?" she said. "I see some tears in your eyes."
"W.W..W..Why?" I finally stuttered.
"Dear boy. You need to know what men have been doing to women for years. You
need to know the pain, humiliation, the sense of subjugation -- and we've
just begun. By the time we finish, you will beg us to do anything to you."
With that, she turned to the other girls.
"Now we connect the electric shocks to him and play a high stakes game. The
winner takes off his strap and continues the torture."
They hooked up wires to my skin and sat down to play a game of poker. Every
five minutes, I received a shock to another part of my anatomy. The game
lasted for hours it seemed before one of them won. By that time, I couldn't
tell one from the other. She approached me and pulled the strap off, first
down slowly and then ripped it off.
"How do I turn him over?" she asked and soon I was on my stomach.
She reached into her purse and pulled a long, fairly thick, plastic vibrator
from it and began to put Vaseline on it.
Then "See how it feels, bastard!" and she began to ram it up my rear with it
vibrating. I began to scream and she became impassioned "Hurts doesn't it,
malebitch, see how it feels, let me twist it too." And she did.
"Turn him over again," Alice yelled.
As it happened, she grabbed my penis and began to massage it. Then faster and
faster. The electric shocks came all at once and Alice pulled as if she wanted
to dismember me.
"Will it come off, lover boy?" she snarled.
She pulled more and I became hard against my weakened will. I resisted and
became as hard as I had ever been.
"STOP EVERYTHING NOW!" I heard and turned to see one of the most
self-confident and beautiful women I had ever seen, and everything stopped.
"This is where I take over."
Apparently she was the real leader and she came up to me.
"Poor boy, have they been hurting you?"
She turned to the other women - "You've got him good and hard, this will keep
it that way," and she clamped a strap around my penis and balls.
Then everyone sat down. Carol, the new leader, then told one to get
refreshments and the girls sat and talked. After about fifteen minutes, I
could hardly stand the agony of lying there with my balls getting harder and
harder.
Then Carol began to talk: "You've all done well, but I know men and this one
has not yet been fully humiliated. He is only hurt, frightened and looking to
escape. Soon, he will do anything to relieve the pain building up in his
groin. Then we will see."
Meanwhile, more of the girls I had seen the night before became to come into
the room. Soon, I had an audience of over 50.
Carol came up to me and said "I bet it hurts, doesn't it? What will you do for
me?"
"Let me go," I managed to say.
"Naughty boy, answer questions when you're asked" she said and connected the
wires to my penis and turned the switch on. I screamed so loud I had to stop
and began to cough.
"Look at his muscles ripple," one said and the others began to applaud.
"Tie the leash to him," Carol said. "Cut him loose .... Now follow me like a
good boy and do what I say and you won't be harmed. If you behave badly, this
will happen," she said as one girl stuck me in the rear with a cattle prod.
The pain was terrific,but it didn't bother me as much as it would have. It was
about then that I got a strange idea. I though if only I could relieve this
agony in my balls, the whole thing would be over. That's what it's all about
anyway, I felt.
I began to reach down and actually touched my penis when Carol shouted
"Naughty Boy! Tie his arms behind him."
And it was done. At this point, I was aware only of my groin and the women
screaming around me, but I didn't even care much about them. I tried to
relieve myself by rubbing my penis against a chair and one of the women hit me
there with the cattle prod. The pain was enormous, but no relief came. I fell
to the floor hoping to do it that way, but I was flipped on my back. First,
Carol pulled down her pants and straddled me, moving up and down rapidly until
she reached a climax, but the restraints on my balls kept me erect and wanting
to continue. One by one, fifty of them either straddled and sat on me or
sucked like mad, but still I couldn't come, although I did my best.
"Look at that courage -- a man with a hard on will do anything," one said.
"By this time, I was given a sedative and brought here. I've been through the
training program and feel nothing but the desire to please women," he
concluded.
This was quite a story by itself and I was getting hot listening to his
rendition of it.
"On your back on the bed," I commanded.
He complied and I tied him, wrists and ankles, to the posts which were already
equipped for such things. I then opened the closet and found some short whips
and began to lash him on the legs and chest. I could see that he was beginning
to feel the pain and his desire to please fought with his pain. I whipped like
a woman in a frenzy and he writhed back and forth. I then found a ring. I
pulled off his briefs and exposed his penis. It was flaccid, shrinking from
me. I pulled on one ball which was trying to escape into him and pulled it
through the ring. Then came the other. The ring seemed full, but I managed to
work his penis through it as well, much to his discomfort. I then massaged it
and saw it rising against his will. Finally, it was fully erect. I could see
the pain in his scrotum on his face and tears in his eyes, but I only became
more aroused. I grabbed a towel and wet it with cold water. I splashed him
with cold water and then whipped him with the towel. Then I pulled out the
whip again and lashed him, holding it like a batter in baseball. Then I got
the idea to reenact part of his story. I found a dildo in the closet, oh
marvelous closet, greased it up and pushed it into his ass. Oh how I pushed
and twisted it! And how he writhed in pain! It was lovely, the height of life
and ecstasy! This muscular man in such pain, under my control, surely I was
making my mark on his life, perhaps penetrating deep parts of his subconscious
fears. I renewed my efforts and began to chew on his penis at the same time.
The chewing turned into biting and he let out tremendous screams. I was in
heaven! I climbed on his cock and began to pump up and down, up and down, up
and down and around, over and over again, until I came. I then loosened his
bonds, ordered him out the door, locked it again and slept the deepest sleep I
had for years.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A BIT OF PERSPECTIVE
This last episode changed my way of thinking in many ways. First of all, the
fact that I slept so well proved to me that I had no regrets over the
incident. In fact, it seemed the natural order of things and that I was
content for the first time since I was a little girl in grade school. I later
did some research on the subject and found that the first organized societies
were matriarchal, that the women controlled the society. Their mistake was in
electing one man of the tribe to be king for a year. This "king" was literally
worshipped as a god for the one year and then sacrificed in a ritual and then
replaced by another. Eventually, the one "king" managed to extend the time of
his rule until the women lost control of the society. Madame Diane was not
aware of this historical background, but she was on the right track:
"This time, the women will maintain control over a large number of men who
will be our slaves. In addition, the weak or ugly will be liquidated so as to
keep the population standards up and to reduce the number. This will prevent
them from ever taking control again. Finally, we will maintain tight control
over them at all stages. Only under these conditions can woman be happy in
her rightful place as ruler."
Diane looked at me.
"It's been a while since you've seen Danny. Why don't we go by the gym on our
way to the contests?" she asked, smiling with her lips drawn tight.
I agreed, never even asking what kind of contests she had in mind. I knew that
they would be something to watch!
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SOME CONTESTS
We went past the gym and I stood at my favorite spot, behind the one-way
mirror and watched Danny as he was put through his workout. His trainer worked
him hard, sometimes making him lift heavy weights for a few times and
sometimes not-so-heavy weights many times.
"If you're interested, I'll have her explain our system to you," Madame Diane
said.
I continued to watch. Somehow Danny looked different to me and it wasn't his
appearance, it was in the way I looked at him. He no longer evoked pity or
sympathy, but was something to use. I was beginning to look forward to the
party in a different way as well.
"Ready to go? We'll have to drive a bit," she said.
"What do you think?" I said and we left.
We drove for about fifteen minutes to a large stadium behind the building
complex.
"Here we have all the major contests -- hockey, baseball, soccer, etc. Which
would you like to see?" she asked.
I started to answer, but she interrupted me.
"Well forget it...," she said."We started to have those games and it was good,
in a way. For example, baseball. The guys really looked cute in their
outfits. All primary colors. The blue team had these briefs colored solid
blue. We couldn't make the front too brief because we needed cups, but we
were able to expose their asses using creative fabric cutting and elastic.
They had these cute caps and shoes, all matching the briefs and white socks.
The trouble was that the catcher had to be protected and the quality of the
play wasn't very good. It was fun watching them struggle to look good and
make mistakes, but it was simply cute, no tension. Hockey, the same thing,
the goalie. Soccer was better, but still the quality wasn't there. One of the
main problems, as I saw it, was that these were team sports, encouraged the
males to establish bonds with one another and even generated a few leaders,
even though the coaches and umpires were all women. Now, the sports we have
appeal to women, not men."
I was all for this, I said and wondered what sort of sports she had designed.
"You've already seen three of the most popular, the wrestling matches, the
races and the penis pull. These are some of the others," she said as we sat
down. Two men were led out onto the field by their trainers. One wore blue
thongs and the other yellow (thongs, I found out, was the name for the briefs
with very little buttock coverage). They were made to stand in front of two
metallic circles on the ground.
"Those are electric shockers," Diana said. "They start out at 120 volts and,
with each push-up, they are reduced one volt. If the competitor does not do
at least sixty push-ups, he is in for a real stinging. Even so, his trainer
can increase the voltage at any time."
And so the two men were commanded to begin. Both were well-built, but that was
to be expected because of the training program. The first twenty push-ups were
uneventful, but then the muscles began to warm up. Twenty more, and the strain
began to show. At sixty, it became clear that each one was an effort. The men
first tried to cheat by bending forward at the waist, leaving their asses
delightfully exposed. Cameras flashed, but they were oblivious. The trainers,
however, stepped on them with their heels. Next, they locked their legs and
their buttocks tensed. Their arms and shoulders grew to massive proportions.
The women watching grew excited and shouted encouragement to their favorite,
on whom some had placed substantial bets. Finally, both collapsed, one a split
second before the other. Both received a massive jolt of power to their cocks
and rolled over. The one in blue won, so he would be rewarded. His trainer
came up to him, pulled down his briefs and masturbated him in front of the
crowd. He was then led off the field. The one in yellow lost, so he would be
punished, both to teach him to try harder and to appease the women who had bet
on him.
"The hammock, hammock, hammock," the women were shouting.
The man was taken to four stakes in the ground, about four feet high. He was
chained hand and foot to each stake so the he was facing the ground, making a
human hammock. Alley cam with her whip and began to swing in time to the
chants. The man screamed out at each one, the pain was so intense. After few
minutes, he was visibly weeping.
"There, there, did it hurt?" she asked. "Well, try this," she said and stuffed
a dildo into his ass.
Then another approached and cut off his yellow briefs. A machine that looked
like a milking machine was attached to his cock and balls.
"This is a creation of one of our engineers. It strokes his penis until it
reached a certain point and then squeezes his balls until he becomes limp and
over and over again. This could last hours," Diana said.
"When do you stop," I asked.
"When he says the right thing," she said.
"What is that?" I asked.
"Depends on how we feel," she said.
I watched as the machine began to work. I could see the expression on the
man's face as he awake to desire and then blanched in pain. Over and over.
"Help, please stop it," he cried, but they just sat there, rubbing themselves
between their legs.
This continued for three hours and some of the women obviously reached
multiple climaxes.
"Please, anything else, anything," he cried.
Still, Madame Diana watched. His already tensed and spent muscles renewed
themselves as he twisted and turned, struggling against the machine and his
chains. Alley started with the whip again. The man was crying and begging, but
still the torment continued.
"Mommy," he cried and Madame gave a signal.
The machine stopped and so did Alley. He was released and fell to his face. He
doubled up.
"On your back, baby," Alley said and the man turned over.
Alley licked him between the legs and he was carried off the field and put
into a cage.
"This one will perform well as a servant," Diana said and looked to the far
end of the field.
Two glass cages were rolled out onto the center. They were filled with water
and had a bar across the top.
"This is the endurance test to see which can stay under the longest. Our
record so far is a minute and a half, although we could no better with warmer
water," Diana said.
The two men, this time wearing blue and red posing straps, were lowered into
the water and the timer began. After about forty seconds, I could see the
agony they experienced trying to stay under. They had seen the previous
punishment and knew that theirs would be worse so they pushed themselves down
using the bar and kicked and writhed, bent and turned, in the most provocative
and erotic movements I had ever seen, just to keep under. Both struggled with
courage and I found myself wishing I could see their struggles in slow motion.
Finally, after two minutes and ten seconds, both came up for air and the
contest was declared a draw. Both men breathed heavily to recapture the oxygen
they had lost during their ordeal, both unaware of their near nudity. I
wondered what Madame Diana would do to resolve the draw. Her solution was
particularly sadistic and delightful.
"We will see how well the male animal uses his strength to preserve his
manhood," she said.
She ordered leather ropes, one end tied around their cocks, and the other
looped around portable pulley machines that were wheeled out to the field.
"You will be raised into the air by the ropes, but you will be allowed to hold
to the ropes with your hands," she said.
Up they went, fifteen feet into the air. Holding on for dear life. If they let
go, or even weakened, their weight would be borne by their cock and balls. Oh,
how they held on while we shouted at them. One of the girls, after fifteen
minutes, got the idea of splashing them with cold water. A few more
adventurous ones began to tickle them, but still they held on. You had to see
it to believe how a well-built man looks after he has been struggling for
hours. His muscles first become larger and he begins to sweat. Then they start
to quiver and seem to knot and he begins to chill, then the process repeats
itself -- at least it did today. After a long while, one began to slip slowly.
He tried to loop his hand around the rope and Alley lashed him hard a few
times. Still he clung tight. Alley signaled the rope to be lowered and she
ripped off his red strap and signaled again and he was jerked up again. He
continued to grip and tried to cross his legs to cover himself. Alley signaled
again and he was lowered again. She took a knife and cut his hands and up he
went again. Now he couldn't hold on! His hands slipped off the rope and
clutched at his penis as he screamed. Then he lost control, screaming, hanging
only from his cock. Kicking and waving his arms which only made the agony more
severe, he wailed and cried. He was let down at a signal and whimpered, curled
up. He was carried away. The one in blue was let down and tied to a wall
spreadeagled. One of the girls ran up and pulled down his strap, but left the
rope attached. She put her mouth around his cock and sucked until he spent
himself. He was let down and led away by the rope.
"Well, that was refreshing," said Madame Diana. "What would you like to do
now?"
"I'm not sure," I said, "but I feel a bit tired."
"I know," she said. "Sometimes I have to take a few days off and visit the
outside world to get new ideas and also to refresh myself. Too much of this
and one begins to wonder if it's worth it. Let's go out for dinner."
I agreed. We drove back to the main building and I went to my room and took a
nap. That evening, we went out on the town. We visited strip joints, night
clubs and walked by a brothel. To see, once again, how men treated women in
our unnatural society made me feel much better about what Madame Diane was
doing. I felt better about what I was doing as well. I guess the scene where a
fat, ugly, man whipped a girl with a coat hanger settled things in my mind. I
also thought about the thousands of unwanted pregnancies and back-alley
abortions women had to undergo each year. Yes, there was much work to be done.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE PARTY
Now I was determined not just to have a good party with my friends, but to
actually make a few converts. I knew that I could do this two ways: first, the
girls had to remember the times when men had taken advantage of them and
second, they had to have a good time.
I spent days making plans and Madame Diana and Mistress Kathy helped with
several suggestions. I think Kathy offered the most creative events, but that
Diana was able to think of the more diabolical twists should we need them.
Danny would be the main attraction, but several others would be held in
reserve. The guests started to arrive about seven. I had Danny dressed in
light blue shorts with split sides, blue slippers, a light blue cape, bow tie,
and, for effect, a kind of bunny tail sewn on the rear of his shorts. My
guests were somewhat taken aback when he greeted them at the door and took
their coats, but we all sat down and began to talk in the living room. Most of
the talk was about old times, what was going on now and what I was doing
lately. I took that to be my cue and motioned for Danny to kneel down in the
center of us. I mentioned that I was doing research on a book concerning
proper male and female roles and the conversation began to roll again. After a
few drinks, however, one of the girls began to look more closely at Danny.
"My, he is a hunk," she said, "does he lift weights?"
"He does indeed. In fact, he is on a special program. Remove your cape,
Danny," I said.
The reaction was quick. The girls responded with sounds of approval.
One said "Does he dance?"
I told them to wait and sent Danny to the bedroom. He appeared a few minutes
later with the music in the background. A few minutes into the dance, he
removed his shorts to leave him in a posing suit, also light blue and the
girls grabbed the shorts. Danny gyrated on the floor, exciting my friends even
more. Then he braced his back with his hands, balanced on his back and elbows
and pointed his legs toward the ceiling, making it easy for me to remove the
posing suit, leaving him with just a posing strap, also light blue, to toss to
one of the girls who was quieter than the others. The music ended, but my
friends wanted more.
"Show them your workout," I said and made him do situps while one of the girls
sat on his ankles.
Next, push-ups while another sat on his shoulders. She was getting wet between
the legs.
Her eyes began to roll back and she shouted "faster, faster!"
Then I make Danny give horse rides, but interrupted after about fifteen
minutes.
"Wait, he is not yet a real horse," I said and removed his blue strap.
I wound the nylon rope around his cock and balls, just like at the stadium,
across his chest and over his shoulders. Then the tail. I greased it up and
worked it into his tight ass as he flinched and blushed. I was about to whip
him then, but decided to let one of the girls ride him and she did.
"What next girls?" I asked above the noise.
Most of them began to take their clothes off and one said "I want that cock
inside me," and the others agreed.
"O.K., you'll all get your chance -- tie him down," I said.
I watched as they swarmed over him, tying him hand and foot to the rings set
up one the floor for that purpose.
"Now sit back a bit and I promise you a real treat."
I took the syringe out of my purse and filled it from a small bottle. It was
the formula displayed in the seminar room. Danny gave a gasp of pain as I
injected it into his shrinking member and the girls looked on in a bit of
horror.
"Girls, he's here for our pleasure, not his. Let's sit back and watch."
We sat on the floor around him and watched his penis grow to fullness. We
turned down the lights a bit and began to look on in reverence. One moved
toward him and began to stroke him. He moved his hips upward, seeking relief,
but none would come for hours. Another put her mouth over it and nibbled. He
began to breathe heavily and give out sharp quick moans with each bite.
Another moved toward him and began to pull the few hairs remaining on his
balls. Finally, one pulled down her panties and sat on him, moving up and
down. She rode him for ten minutes. Moaning with delight with each orgasm.
The others lined up as they saw his penis still stand erect.
"What a wonderful drug!" another shouted and she climbed aboard.
All fifteen of us rode him for hours. About thirty minutes into the torture,
Danny's muscles began to shiver and tremble, but this just made us hornier. We
were on every part of his body, into his ass, on his prick, no restraint but
just using him as much as we could. It was a wonderful gang bang release of
pent up frustration and orgiastic delight!
When we were all spent, we rested, just watching Danny's muscles quiver and
his penis pulsate. One of the girls videotaped the entire session. It was
quiet, just the sounds of an occasional ice-cube clinking against a glass and
a match lighting a cigarette interrupted the sound of Danny breathing and
trembling. The muscles on his body stood out more and more sharply as the
night passed. Then we each had one more slow and voluptuous turn at him, this
time in no hurry, but savoring the sacred penis within us.
CONCLUSION
There was a great deal more to describe, but further details are unnecessary
here. They will be described in future appendixes, however. What is important
here is that my party produced fifteen converts. Each of those will go on to
produce more converts. Although Madame Diana's ranch is the most prominent,
others are developing to supply an ever-increasing demand, some of them
appealing to the more refined, soft-core tastes and some even more cruel and
debased than hers. These centers are springing up throughout Latin America and
Europe, as well as Africa. I have even heard of one in Finland specializing in
winter sports. Every day, healthy men disappear off the streets, but now we
know where they are going. Special squads have developed whose only job is to
abduct candidates for training. This is all as it should be. Men have ruled
women for centuries, enslaving them and debasing them, often leaving them to
starve. Our men are well-fed if they perform well and have a home for as long
as they maintain their stamina. This is the wave of the future, a return to
the natural order of things. I am much happier now and so are the women who
are joining me in larger numbers each day. If any men are reading this, I urge
you to volunteer for service for volunteers are allowed special privileges not
accorded to captives, and eventually, we will get you.
Who knows, you may be under observation right now!
K.K.
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