Indoctrination - Chapter Eight

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WARNING! This is a work of erotic BDSM FICTION. It is ADULT ORIENTED MATERIAL of an EXTREME SEXUAL NATURE, including acts of abduction, exhibitionism, humiliation, and discipline. This is not for readers who are easily offended or incapable of distinguishing fact from fiction. The author does not promote such activity in real life unless it is between consenting adults and practiced safely. The copyright of this story remains with the author, Night Owl. This posting does not give anyone the rights to post or print content without obtaining the author's permission first.
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Indoctrination
by Night Owl

(Story Content: M/f, Rope Bondage, Humiliation)


Chapter 8: Rope Play

Since her abduction, Amber’s experiences at Dark Oak Manor were worse than anything she could believe possible. She had been kept isolated from the outside world and allowed very little time to sleep with no way to mark the passage of time. She had been tied up, whipped, paraded naked in front of strangers, forced to witness another slave's brutal punishment, and everything happened so fast, her mind could not comprehend or deal with it rationally. She felt confused, unsure of herself, unable to maintain her normal thought processes. Now she was being taken to meet Raven, the man behind the horrible nightmare, and already, she feared the worst.

Monique and Shii Ann guided her down the winding staircase, through the heavy wooden door, and across a flagstone courtyard. For the first time in what seemed like ages, Amber was allowed to venture outside of the house. It was late afternoon. The three-day storm that hit the whole northeast had finally passed, though the dark sky still threatened more rain. Her long silk robe remained closed about the breasts in front, but it did little to conceal the rest of her nude body as it fanned outward in the cool, moist air, and since her hands were locked behind her back, there was no way of keeping it closed. They passed a long stable house, large enough to hold a small army. When they approached the corner of the building, Monique stopped ahead of them, turned and pulled Amber's collar ring up, forcing her to arch her back forward.

"You must learn to hold your body thus to keep your breasts presented," Monique cautioned her, "especially when you are in our Master’s presence, or you will be punished." Amber took heed the warning and kept her back straight as they rounded the corner.

Raven was riding a beautiful black mare around a short oval track next to the stable house. He was an excellent rider. In his hand, he held a leather crop, though it appeared he had little need for it. A short kick to the flanks brought the animal to a full gallop as he passed the three women. Then he steered his mount into a tight turn and started a gentle pace back. Amber felt her heart beating heavy against her chest as they made their way across the field to meet him. There was no denying her attraction to Raven. He was dangerously handsome, but underneath that dashing, old-world exterior lurked something dark and malicious waiting to be unleashed. She was strangely drawn to that part of him as well, and at the same time, it frightened her terribly. He dismounted in front of the stable and tethered the mare to a hitching post. Moments later, a stable hand took the horse back to its stall.

"Leave us," Raven motioned the other two girls as he approached, "and fetch me a drink. Make it the usual."

"Yes Sir," Monique answered, and without another word, the other two women headed back to the house. He and Amber were now alone.

"Very becoming," he said as he moved in closer, then parted the robe with his hands and gazed at her naked form underneath.

Amber moved her arms slightly. The silver bands shifted loosely on her wrists. She could feel his wolfish eyes roaming up and down her body, and despite their slackness, the bracelets remained locked. Her wrists, her hands were hopelessly lost to her, leaving her powerless to protect herself. She looked at Raven, searching his face for any hope of . . ."

"Did I say you could look at me?"

"No Sir," she quickly lowered her eyes to the ground.

He unclipped the chain from her collar and draped it over the fence. "I detest these," he frowned. "A true submissive should never have to be led around like a dog on a leash. Not if she knows her place, and who she belongs to. Don't you agree?"

There was a moment of silence between them. Amber knew the question was a trap and carefully worded to see if she would answer him incorrectly. She knew what would happen if she said 'no', and then again, if she agreed, it would imply that she had some choice in the matter -- which she didn't. Her time with her captors had been brief so far, but already Amber was beginning to understand what her role was, and how to at least act submissive until she could figure a way out of this place.

"It isn't my place to say, Sir."

Raven nodded his head, apparently satisfied with the answer. "Come with me then and see what I have planned for you."

He turned and led Amber back toward the house, leaving the leash dangling off the fence.

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Sonia watched the two of them from a window on the second floor and didn't like what she saw. Of course, it was always expected that the master of the house might take a slave aside to himself for an evening or two, and even the handlers were allowed a taste every now and then, but never this early in the training process, when a fledgling hadn't yet acquired the coping skills to deal with the unfamiliar and the very intense feelings she may be experiencing.

It happened to Jerri, and with disastrous results. Sonia recalled seeing her grow more and more attached to Raven during their 'sessions'. Whether it was intentional or not, she couldn't say for sure, but by the time Raven was finished with Jerri, the damage had already been done. Now he was trying to cover up his own mistake by shipping the girl down to some 'dick farm' in Venezuela. If she was lucky, her new owner might keep her for himself and assign her as a house servant. Otherwise, she would be forced to work long, grueling hours in the hot sun, that is, when the field hands weren't fucking her. What a waste! And now it was about happen all over again.

For the first time, Sonia began to question Raven's competence in running his own business. There were investors, silent partners who would want to know what happened to Jerri, and why she was sent away without attempting to fix the problem by putting her through more training.

But as Sonia glared at the two figures below, she knew there was something else that bothered her -- something more personal. For the first time in her adult life, she was jealous. The feeling had become almost alien to her over the years, but it was unmistakable -- a mix of hatred and desire that seethed inside her, like a hot bed of coals being fanned to life, and she was finding it very difficult to control.

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Amber followed Raven through a garden behind the house to a round covered patio that resembled a gazebo. The roof was held up by five large posts with picketed fence rails around the sides. Sitting on a table were coils of rope and two silk scarves. She didn't have to guess what was going to happen next, and the thought of being tied up out in the open like this made her flesh tingle. Raven tossed the riding crop on the table deliberately so she would see it.

"Turn around," he ordered.

As Amber did so, he pulled a key out of his pocket and removed the bracelets from her wrists.

"Now face me and remove that robe."

Amber raised her hands up to undo the button tie about her breasts. The robe opened, then slid easily off her shoulders.

"Yes, very nice," Raven nodded. He put the bracelets back on her wrists, so they were locked in front of her. "There is a post directly behind you. I want you to step back to it."

She felt her feet move backward, seemingly on their own, as if her mind had somehow become disconnected with the rest of her body.

"All the way back against the post," he took one of the scarves and wadded it up into a ball.

Amber hesitantly obeyed. She didn’t know what he had in mind and didn’t really care to find out, but with Raven she knew there was really no choice in the matter. She allowed him to push the cloth past her lips and tie the other scarf tightly over her mouth. He then raised her arms overhead and attached the bracelets to a hook high up on the post. In the coming days, Amber would find more hooks of different sizes placed strategically about the grounds and in the house itself -- all used for the same purpose.

"Spread your legs . . . wider. That's it. Now stand still."

She remained motionless with her legs apart, her feet pointed uncomfortably in their 4” heels, while Raven took different lengths of rope and proceeded to bind her to the post. Bands of rope were tied around her chest, above and below her breasts, then pulled tightly to the post. He wrapped another length of rope around her lower abdomen several times, just below the navel. Her ankles were tied to the fence rail, then her upper thighs, to keep her legs secured. When he was done, Amber was quite helpless, trapped in a wide stance with her arms stretched high above her head and yards of rope coiled tightly around her body. Raven took the last piece of rope and cinched one end of it to the center her breast ropes. He passed the other end between her legs, then up behind her to the hook above.

"Ummmmmpppphhhhhhmmmm," she groaned into the gag as he pulled once, then twice, and finally a third time before tying it off. The result was a sensation Amber had never experienced before. With all of her pubic hair gone, she could feel every course fiber pushing hard against her smooth crotch.

As Raven was tightening the last knot, Monique appeared again holding a tray with a glass of what appeared to be cognac.

"Your drink, Sir."

After Raven took the glass, she slipped away quietly without even a glance in Amber's direction.

"How do the ropes feel?" Raven pulled up a chair at the table.

"Mmmmmmmmph!" A muffled cry was the only response Amber could give him. Gazing downward, she saw her breasts bulging almost obscenely through the bands of rope, and her nipples stood proudly erect, as though eager to accept the abuse that would most surely be inflicted on them.

"That's raw hemp," he said, "a material traditionally used in Japanese rope bondage, and for good reason. Its natural properties are coarse in texture, yet pliable. And it holds a knot remarkably well. See if you can get loose . . ."

Without thinking, she pulled hard against the ropes and immediately felt the strong, woody fibers rubbing against her body.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmph!"

Careful, my pet," he laughed, "untreated hemp is highly abrasive. Any sudden movement against the skin produces a burning effect that can be painful, and even damaging for those who are not used to it. Considering the military origins of Japanese restraint, where the goal was to immobilize a prisoner, rough fibers like these were a good choice. Don't you think?"

"Mmmmmmmmph! Mmmmmmmmmm!"

Raven stood up from the table and started to massage her exposed, bound breasts. Her nipples, now engorged, turned a deep red.

"You must relax," he said. "Move slowly with ropes and you'll enjoy it."

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmphhhhh . . ."

"Rope is one of the oldest, most tried, most trusted of materials used in the application of bondage, and by far, my personal favorite. It is a form of sensual torture all to itself -- the way it rubs into the skin, the visual pleasure of its craftsmanship. Even the pleasant, grassy aroma can arouse the senses."

Amber closed her eyes and breathed heavily into the gag. It was not an all-together unpleasant feeling; she was ashamed to admit to herself. She felt her body sway as he gently kneaded her breasts. The chafing grew less intense with her subtle movements, then quickly melted into a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure.

"Yes. That's it, just relax. I'm not going to hurt you. At least, not now," he smiled with a wicked grin.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," she pushed her breasts forward into Raven's hands.

"A woman is the most important creature to her male counterpart," he said. "When God created Eve, he took her from the rib of a man. She was taken from his side, to be his compliment, his partner. Yet at the same time, a woman is the weaker sex, making her a missionary, especially in the art of lovemaking. That is why so many women like being bound during their sexual encounters. They want to be gagged, controlled, forced against their will. It is that same feeling of helplessness that is turning YOU on, is it not?"

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," came the muffled replies.

His hands left her chest and moved to her abdomen. "You’re very tight and firm here. I like a young lady who takes care of her body, and these ropes compliment your shape beautifully." His fingers traveled upward to trace around her navel then down again to her shaved mound.

"Mmmmm, mmmmmmmmmmmm," she moaned, feeling more anxious.

"Are you becoming aroused? Or are you just being apprehensive about where I am touching you? That is always the question this early in a woman’s training. Some respond very quickly when that submissive side of them, buried so deep, is finally unleashed. Personally, I think you're becoming more aroused."

His fingers brushed her labia, but they would not enter. Amber tried to push down on his hand.

"I know you want me to touch you there, but you're not ready yet. You must be more focused on why you are here," he started to trace her belly again.

"Now I want you to undulate for me," he said. "You do this by bringing your hips forward and back, then your stomach and breasts. Do this in a smooth wave-like motion. Let the ropes move across your body and rub against your flesh at will . . . but do it slowly. Otherwise, you will not fully enjoy the experience."

Amber began moving her body the way Raven described. She rolled her hips forward and back, then her belly, and finally her breasts. She repeated the movement again like a belly dancer. At first it felt awkward, but she learned quickly, and just as Raven predicted, she felt the ropes shift and rub around her breasts, against her abdomen, and most noticeably between her thighs.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm . . ."

"Yes, very nice. Does it feel good?"

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm," she slowly pulled her abdominal muscles in then pushed her breasts forward. "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm."

Raven placed his hands on her hips, then ran them slowly up and down her body.

"That's it . . . slowly . . . so I can feel those tight, toned muscles in my hands. Let the ropes control you . . . caress you . . . let them remind you that you cannot escape their hold."

He took her breasts into his hands again, then started to squeeze and massage them. Her nipples were as stiff as marbles, and he twirled them gently between his thumbs and index fingers.

"Oooooommmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," Amber moaned louder into her gag and tried desperately to get away from the hands that were causing her so much agonizing pleasure, twisting about within the ropes that held her so expertly. He knew just how to touch a woman, to get her juices flowing. Amber had seen him demonstrate this before, and she was certainly no exception. She moaned again in silent shame and humiliating pleasure.

"Yes, that's a girl. You are doing quite well. Now move your hips from side to side."

She did so, and felt the ropes tighten against the smooth muscles where her inner thighs joined her hips. The crotch rope, which had become well-lubricated, continued to work its way deeper and deeper inside her. Unable to remain still, she squirmed in her bonds, tried to bring her legs together, but the struggling only increased the pressure. A strange electricity began to flash through her body from the raw hemp rubbing against her tender folds and clit.

"Hmmmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmmmm," Amber was now begging for a release.

"Poor wretch," he said. "Those pesky ropes are giving your body quite the workout, aren't they? Perhaps if there was something else to distract you."

Raven turned to the table and reached for the riding crop -- the same one he carried as he rode the black mare around the track. Later, Amber would recall never seeing him strike the animal with it. Not once. But he certainly had no reservations about using the crop on her body.

The next sound she heard was the loud SWOOSH as it cut through the air followed by that burning strike across her skin – both were all too familiar now.

SWOOOSHHH . . . SNAP!

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH!" She screamed as the first blow landed just below her left nipple.

SWOOOSHHH . . . SNAP!

Amber moaned again and jerked painfully against the ropes. Sweat broke out all over her body.

SWOOOSHHH . . . SNAP . . . !

He struck her breasts six more times with the crop. Yet despite the searing pain it caused, she felt terribly aroused by it, so much, that she couldn't hide her disappointment when he finally lay the instrument down on the table.

"Pain has many uses," he said. "It can be used as punishment or for pleasure, depending on how it is applied, but for a kajira like you, one cannot exist without the other."

“Kajira,” she thought. There was that word again, like ‘nadu’ or ‘present’, Amber was hearing words and meanings that she was never aware of before. That and discovering this inner ‘submissive’ side she found both intriguing and terrifying.

Her thoughts melted away again as Raven moved in closer and continued to massage her breasts.

"To the untrained mind, this may seem contradictory on the surface. If an outsider were to see you now, he might think, 'That poor girl! She is totally helpless! She is in pain!' But you and I know different, don't we? Even now, your emotions are running wild. Your desires, your sexuality, all of your repressions have been set free, haven't they?"

"Mmmmmm, mmmmmmmmm," she nodded.

"It is all about letting go, my pet. Surrendering control. As ropes and leather tighten around your body, when the lash strikes your flesh, the bonds inside loosen. Knowing that you have NO CHOICE, allows you to quiet your mind and focus on the inner experience."

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm . . ."

"Women crave submission, respond positively to the male dominant, for it is in their nature to be so; an essential quality that has always existed within the weaker sex. Even in the midst of the so-called 'modern feminine ideal,' this primitive state of existence remains; hidden; untouched by civilization and its artificiality."

His hands moved up her raised arms, caressing them, then down the sides of her body.

"When a woman discovers these submissive needs for the first time, she will endure a period of self-doubt. She may think something is wrong with her. A sickness, a mental disorder. That is what the society we live in WANTS us to believe. Western culture places the highest value on independence, on that 'pull yourself up by the bootstraps' attitude, the less needy and more self-sufficient. It values competition over cooperation, material achievement over achievement in relationship. It forces us to be someone we are not, to conform to its temperance until we have become totally disconnected with who we really are. But there is something very wrong with believing that such independence is the only good. It is especially wrong for the most relatedness-oriented among us -- the submissive female. Together, you and I will tap into your inner feelings, your darkest desires through pain and restraint. You will learn to throw out those voices of our culture -- the voices telling you that you are too needy, too dependent, too focused on the others in your life. Once you have articulated the language of your true nature, then you will begin to question, not YOURSELF, but the validity of those cultural values. You will learn to measure your life based on who YOU are, and not by society's standard."

Raven's voice was smooth and penetrating, and the more Amber listened, the more his words seemed to fill her head and take root. Or maybe it was the lack of sleep. She had very little in the last . . . twenty . . . thirty hours? She had no idea. Time seemed to have stood still. Whatever the cause, she was becoming confused, disoriented, at odds with herself, and all the while, Amber was aware of his hands roaming all over her body, caressing her flesh with a grip that felt both strong and reassuring.

"When your indoctrination is complete, it will affect all aspects of your life. Not just the bedroom. Role-playing is merely a pretense, a lifeless cardboard cut-out imitation. True submission comes from the heart and soul, with no hint of artificiality, acting, or mendacity. A woman who has found herself, will feel the need to be controlled; constrained by an unstoppable force; restrained; bound; reined in; no choice; no decisions; all freedom must be relinquished to His authority, His lordship; not because of incompetence, emotional liability or any lack of desire to take responsibility for her own actions, and not because she needs a man to make decisions for her, but simply because that is the way it must be."

He trailed his fingers down her abdomen to the rope in her crotch and pulled it slowly.

"Now I want you to come for me, my pet. Give me that orgasm you've been so anxiously waiting for. You are bound and gagged, with no escape. Feel your body and vagina contract as one," he drove the rope up harder, making her tremble. "Yes . . . that's it. Cum for me, pet."

"Mmmmmmm, mmmmmm, mmmmmmm, mmmmmmm!" The climax shook Amber's body. Her muscles tensed. She squeezed her eyelids shut and her breasts bounced with the trembling sensation. The ropes chafed and burned her flesh as she struggled violently with her orgasm, though she barely noticed. Finally, she fell limply against the post. Raven withdrew his hand.

"Did you enjoy that, slave?"

"Mmmmmm," Amber nodded and moaned softly. When she opened her eyes again, Monique was standing silently nearby with leash in hand.

"Now that your lesson is over, I must leave you and tend to other business," he then turned to Monique. "Take this one to her quarters and see that she is fed. All that struggling depleted her recourses some, and I want her strength regained up for her next session."

“Yes, Sir.”

Once untied, Amber's hands were immediately locked in the bracelets behind her back. The sun was already setting as they made their way back to the house. The air grew cool, and a light drizzle began to fall. Goose bumps pimpled her arms, legs and breasts, but even the weather could not cool the frissons of passion that were still streaming through her whole body. Since her capture, Amber had always been restrained in some way or other, and now she knew why. It wasn't just to keep her from escaping, but a reminder that her own body belonged to someone else now. That she was no longer permitted to even touch it.

That night in her cell, Amber couldn't sleep. Her arms and legs were tied to the corners of the cot in the usual spread-eagle fashion. Hours had passed, and even though the burn marks had all but faded, she could still feel the course ropes against her flesh just as vividly as if they were still there. The fact was, she wanted to be fucked in the worst way. That wonderful orgasm brought on from the ropes didn't seem to be enough. She needed to feel a man inside her, to make her complete again. She needed Raven.

Another hour passed, and by then, she was finding it very difficult to even keep still. She began to twist and writhe on the bed. She imagined the crotch rope rubbing deep inside her, inflaming her pussy. The thought, alone, sent shivers through her body, but then she stopped suddenly when she saw the camera perched high on the wall. Her cheeks flushed with shame as she stared at the black eye looking down at her, its red light glowing in the darkness, recording every move she made. Her thoughts turned to Rob, her boyfriend. It seemed so long ago now -- a lifetime. She tried to envision his face in her mind, to replay the sound of his voice, but everything seemed blurred and detached.

"What's happening to me," she thought.

Amber stared at the ceiling in silence, her mind lost in a daze. Only the sound of a key turning in the lock to her cell brought her back to reality. The door opened.

It was Shane.

"Alone at last," he said as he closed the door behind him.

(continued)