Indoctrination - Chapter 16

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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


Chapter 16: The Smell of Wine and Leather

A black Audi made its way up the long drive and pulled up in front of Dark Oak Manor. Two men and two women emerged from the vehicle. The driver, a tall man in a dark Armani suit with a black cape handed his keys to the valet. The other man was also well-tailored, and the two women, both dressed in black leather overcoats with hoods that nearly covered their faces. They followed the men closely as the small group headed up the walk path. Raven greeted them at the door, and pleasantries were exchanged between the three men as they entered, with little regard to their female companions. It was 5:00 p.m. and the first guests of the party had arrived.

Upstairs in the dressing room, Monique, Shii Ann, Marin and Amber were putting on makeup while quizzing each other with last minute details over the proper etiquette in dealing with visitors. Since this was her first of many social events that she would be required to attend, Amber was tutored by Monique specifically on the house rules and what was expected of her.

Only Livia was missing in the group, which seemed strange because she was further along in her training than anyone else. Odder still, was that no one even inquired as to where she might be, leading Amber to suspect something might be wrong. Several times she was tempted to ask, but finally decided it best to just keep her silence.

With the exception of Monique, who was Raven’s house slave, the other kajirae were still going through their training, which meant they could be used in any way during social events, short of sexual intercourse. Whippings were permitted, and other forms of BDSM play, though nothing 'heavy' enough to cause long term physical harm. A trainee might also be asked to demonstrate her oral skills, but permission always had to be sought by Raven first, and sometimes a payment or even an exchange for another slave was arranged. The reason for this was that all trainees were marked for sale, and the overuse of a woman's 'sex' or 'chute' might loosen her up too much and depreciate her over-all value on the selling block. Of course, it was expected that all trainees have some experience in giving and receiving sex, so exceptions to the rule were sometimes made, but only at the trainer's discretion.

Once a trainee went to the block for sale, that kajira became the property of the owner to be treated in any way the Master or Mistress desired. While among the BDSM crowd in the outside world, where punishments that might cause physical pain or psychological humiliation were agreed upon prior to any sexual sessions between a dominant and submissive, no such agreement existed between a slave and owner in The Organization. The owner could even loan a slave to others through payment received or by a trade (commonly referred to as ‘bartering’).

It was the organization’s Board of Directors that made sure everything ran smoothly. If there was a dispute between two members regarding an agreement, it went to The Board; if a slave was seriously injured or in rare cases killed during a session, it went to The Board, and the punishments were often severe -- from heavy fines, to loss of property, and even death, depending on the severity of the issue or crime.

For the party, all of the girls were required to dress in fetish wear, or 'kink clothing' as it was called. Monique, in particular, looked like a model straight out of an S&M magazine. Her long legs were wrapped in shiny, black leather chaps, that left her ass, inner thighs, and the black silk thong she wore underneath exposed. Her leather harness bra was just as intriguing, with straps running around her breasts and merging in the center just enough to cover her nipples while leaving the rest of her flesh bare. Finally, her long blonde hair was permed, and the heavy mascara around the eyes and red lipstick added to the 'sexy vamp' look.

Since she was still early in her training, Amber was not allowed to dress like her companions. Instead, she wore a simple white silk tunic, called a ‘camisk’, with a disrobing loop at the left shoulder -- similar to the garment she wore for Raven the night before.

Amber learned that a woman's status as a kajira was designated by the color of her silk. Slaves that wore red silk, for instance, were 'pleasure slaves', and could generally be claimed by anyone who desired her usage after reaching an agreement with the owner. A 'red silk' was considered to be well trained to please in all ways sexual. Strictly speaking, the status of red silk meant "a kajira who has been opened to men and the fire in her slave belly lit,” as stated in Gorean literature. Amber knew little of what this World of Gor was, other than many in The Organization treated it as a religion.

Amber's own status as a 'white silk' was the opposite, though not a virgin, it suggested a lack of experience or naivety to Gorean culture. By right of ownership, a white silk girl was reserved only for Master or Mistress. They were generally permitted to serve drinks and food, or for conversation, but sexual use was strictly forbidden by anyone else, unless on some rare occasions, special arrangements were made with the person in charge of her training. Not surprisingly, Amber was visibly relieved after learning this.

After the first guests appeared in the Audi, Monique quickly took Amber down to the long bar next to the kitchen and mixed two cocktails.

"The tall man in the cape is Sir Goodwin Stryker," she told her. "He's a filmmaker, and the two girls belong to him. Loryanna is the blonde and the other girl with the short brown hair is named Daphne. Both of them were trained here. The other man is Ethan Rom. I would try to keep your distance from him if I were you . . . but . . . don’t tell anyone I said that." Monique quickly changed the subject without offering any further explanation.

“Here,” she gave Amber the tray, “take these drinks to them . . . and remember your etiquette or we’ll BOTH be punished.”

The Grand Room, as it was called, was just that – over 1,500 square feet, sectioned off with sets of couches and settees, with the large, canopied rock fireplace. Occupying the room’s focal center was circular platform, measuring about 8 feet in perimeter, that had been set up before the party.

Amber quietly entered the room carrying her tray. Goodwin Stryker was seated with Raven. He was as tall as Monique said, with sharp, well-tanned features and butter colored hair combed back neatly on his head. Seated next to him, was the brunette. From the first second Amber laid eyes on her, she couldn't keep herself from staring, for this was the same girl she saw on the video in Raven's den. Her hair had been cut short since then, but there was no mistaking her identity.

In the outside world, this woman could easily have been a model -- tall, slender, and somewhat leggy with a swan-like neck. Her face had an oval shape to it, the cheekbones strong, nose straight, and her lips full. Her short, light brown hair was brushed behind the ears to compliment the facial features and graceful neck. The black mini dress she wore had spaghetti straps over her shoulders, and a very revealing front that draped low between her teardrop-shaped breasts, which were obviously naked underneath. Around her neck, was a silver collar with the cursive letters ‘G.S.’ etched on one side.

As Amber set the two drinks down for Raven and his guest, the woman remained motionless on the couch, sitting up straight, her legs uncrossed and pressed closely together from her knees down to the silver stiletto heels she wore. Her arms were at her sides, and slightly parted with her hands resting palms down on the seat cushion, as if posed that way so that anyone walking by could appraise her looks. Amber was captivated with the woman, by her beauty and by recognition of who she was. It finally took the sound of Raven's voice to break the spell,

"Amber," he said, "I want you to meet one of my guests, Sir Goodwin Stryker."

Amber's eyes darted to the two men looking at her.

"Greetings, Master," she got on her knees and bowed to the guest, as Monique instructed her earlier.

Stryker nodded his head in return, “I prefer ‘Sir' when you address me.”

“I’m sorry Mas . . . I mean . . . Sir.”

“No worries.”

"And this is his slave," Raven continued, "Daphne."

The woman looked up at Amber only briefly, and then lowered her gaze again. Her eyes were a striking pale green, yet in spite of their beauty, there seemed to be nothing human behind them -- no character, no strength, no hope. It was the same look she would see in many of the kajirae that night, for unlike the girls at Dark Oak Manor, they had been fully indoctrinated and resigned to their new lives.

"I would introduce you to Loryanna," Raven laughed, "but Mr. Ethan Rom is keeping her busy at the moment."

In one corner of the room, and almost hidden in the shadows, Amber was not shocked, but a little surprised to see the blonde woman handcuffed and kneeling in front of Raven's second guest. The zipper was open in his dress pants, her mouth, closed and locked around his stiff member. The seated, slouching man had his head back, his eyes closed. She leaned forward as best as she could without the use of her hands, her head moving with a sensual motion while her mouth slid up and down his massive organ. The strappy, lavender dress she wore was raised above her hips, baring her naked ass underneath which was lightly streaked with three faint red marks left by a riding crop the man was holding in one hand.

Raven and Stryker casually puffed on their cigars while commenting on the woman's technique. Amber watched uncomfortably, but at the same time, with some interest. At last, the man arched his back and cried out. He grasped the kneeling woman's blonde hair and held himself deep in her throat, leaving her no choice but to suck down his discharge. When he was done, Ethan Rom lowered his head to greet Amber with a smile. His eyes were a steely blue, and the look behind them gave her a chill.

"I guess the show is over," Raven finally turned to Amber. "You may go now, pet."

She lowered her eyes and quietly took the empty drink tray back to the kitchen.
By then, more guests were trickling in through the front door. Lamar Quinn arrived with one slave he referred to as Elisabeth -- a very pretty, but athletic-looking girl with narrow dark brown eyes set above soft chiseled cheeks, shoulder-length blonde hair and a near-perfect ‘California tan’. It was rumored that one of the trainees at Dark Oak Manor would be sent to Mr. Quinn as compensation for Jerri, his second slave purchased from Raven, who had to be sent away for her disobedience.

Carlo Santos was also there and mingling with the other guests. He didn’t own any slaves himself, but Monique once mentioned he had a very large inheritance and a lucrative profession described only as a ‘importer/exporter entrepreneur’, making him both a valuable patron and influential member within The Organization.

At the server's station, Monique filled goblets of red and white wine, Raven's best stock, while Amber loaded her tray. Marin joined them to help. The sylphlike, but still stunning-looking brunette wore a dress made of silver metal scales called chain mail. The top was wrapped tightly around her small breasts like a tube, and the skirt, draped low around the hips, baring her well-toned clavicles and jutting ribs. Her long dark hair was permed like Monique's, and her upper arms, adorned with silver armlets.

In less than one hour, the attendants had grown from just a handful to over 60. Finger foods were served - crispy fried mushrooms, raw baby carrots and celery, chilled shrimp, oysters, and caviar with blini crackers. There was also music in the air, piped in through speakers. It was strong and elegant and carried well amongst the laughter and conversations. Patterns began to form in the crowd. Many of the guests had already broken off into clusters, usually centered on some group or person -- like a show, within a show.

Amber felt dozens of eyes diligently tracking her as she moved around the room to serve the food and wine. Suddenly, it seemed as though the sheer white silk she wore couldn't have been more conspicuous. Of course, she had been naked before strangers many times, but it didn't seem to her that she had been so naked as this. The camisk shifted around her body as she moved, betraying every curve, and reminding her of how bare skinned she was underneath. Her nipples tented though the soft, lustrous fiber. Not naked, but more than naked it seemed. In spite of how it felt, she was grateful for even a wisp of gossamer clothing to protect her nakedness from the imperious appraisals of the crowd, even though the disrobing loop over her left shoulder could be pulled away and the silk discarded instantly at anyone's whim.

More guests filed in, bringing the number to about 80, with at least a third of the sum total being slaves and ‘free world subs’ for the dominant members to pray upon later. One in particular -- a very young, good-looking man -- was being led around naked on a leash by his female companion. His arms were restrained behind his back, his mouth gagged with a leather 'o'-ring. While he was paraded through the house, other women were allowed to inspect his genitals. His body was moderately muscled, well tanned and hairless, save for what he had on his head. His pubic area, in particular had been shaved smooth, and in spite of the size of his member, which was impressive, his shaved look appeared boyish in appearance, though hardly innocent.

Throughout the early evening, as Amber dodged guests with her tray, she was able to pick up only bits of conversation, yet not enough to discern any real meaning. The groups continued to swell and flow to the sound of the music. Mistress Sonia was sitting with one group of men, wearing a tight-fitting black leather dress. After three glasses of wine, she was in an uncharacteristically upbeat mood and relating a tantalizing story while her listeners hung on every word. In another part of the room, a young couple was talking spiritedly about some sexual exploration or another that they had shared, the small crowd of listeners making cooing sounds at the peaks and curves of the tale. The whole atmosphere looked and sounded surreal.

Off in the corners, there were several quieter conversations taking place. Men and women talking more intimately about their private lives. Stolen glances were exchanged, and passions lit amongst strangers and lovers alike. Amber found herself drawn to these more intimate moments, listening to the words spoken in the hope of catching some of the intensity there.

When she brought a tray of drinks into the Grand Room, a particularly large group had gathered near the canopied fireplace. Most of the guests were seated in chairs or lounging on the large throw rug spread across the floor. The circular platform before them was now rotating slowly with bright, LED lights inside illuminating the plexiglass surface.

The focus of their attention was on that glowing platform and a slender redheaded slave girl performing a full standing backbend on top of it. She was naked, save for her white leather collar and a pair of clear, open-toe high heels. Balancing herself with just her hands and feet, she remained silent and motionless, like a human statue. Her long, fiery hair draped down to the tabletop from where her head hung backwards. At the other end of 'the bridge', her pubic area had been shaved smooth in typical ‘kajira’ fashion, displaying her beautiful cunt -- and a lit cigarette tucked just inside!

Her eyes were closed and her face emotionless. The guests murmured among themselves while glancing occasionally at the woman as the table rotated slowly before them, offering every angle of her body to them and everyone else in the room. Much of the conversation among these guests were indistinguishable to Amber because of the music filling the room and the other crowd noise surrounding her.

She stood just outside the circle with her tray and watched also, admiring how the woman's limbs and torso flowed through the back-bending arch. Her smallish breasts were drawn tight over her prominent ribs, her coral red nipples, visibly erect, as if beckoning someone to touch them. Even more provocative was the small tattoo of a spider just off her left pelvic bone with a delicate web fanning out from its abdomen and ending just above the V of her body, as if to draw attention to the smoldering cigarette burning ever closer to her pink flesh.

Scanning the growing flock of onlookers, Amber noticed Sir Goodwin seated in his chair. At his feet, the ethereally beautiful, Daphne was leaning against the chair with one bare arm draped affectionately across his knees. Only she could have drawn Amber's attention off the magnificent tableau perched on the table in front of them. She felt her gaze trace the lines of Daphne's dress where fabric met skin. Her cleavage was a striking cream against the black material, her long legs, bent to the side and together in front, were uncovered nearly up to the hips.

Beneath the silk, Amber felt her own body stir, her emotions clouded with unfamiliarity. She had never been so moved by another woman before. It wasn’t just a physical attraction, but something deeper, as if Amber were looking at herself in a mirror -- the submissive, the slave. Her breath caught when Daphne's pale green eyes suddenly darted to hers. A subtle smile followed, her full lips parted slightly, before she looked away again.

As Amber moved through the room to serve the guests, she tried to keep her poker face. She tried to pretend that Daphne and the revealing black dress she wore was not a compelling vision; that her gaze did not unnerve her somehow. She willed herself to focus on something else, but her eyes kept betraying her thoughts, shooting furtive glances toward the other woman. So tied up Amber was with her emotions, that she didn't even notice Raven observing her strange behavior until it was too late. When she saw the smile, and the silent laugh on her master's face, she quickly left the room.

By the time Amber returned with more drinks, conversations near the fireplace were beginning to die down as more attention was diverted to the redhead. Still posed on the rotating stage in her back-bending bridge, her limbs were beginning to show signs of fatigue. More noticeably, the cigarette poking out between her open thighs had burned almost all the way down to the end. Amber paused a moment to watch with the other guests. She couldn't bring herself to even glance at Raven or Daphne, for fear of being caught again.

Five more minutes passed, and the redhead's face was flushed pink from exertion, her slender arms and legs shaking uncontrollably. Her eyes were still closed, but her mouth opened slightly as she struggled to take each breath of air. Sweat glistened off her pale body, bringing to light the smooth musculature throughout while straining to hold the impossible pose. The glowing embers from the cigarette were almost touching her now.

Finally, a man stood up from his chair. Presumably this was the girl's owner. He circled the platform slowly, then rapped on the plexiglass twice with the knuckles of his closed fist.

The woman carefully lowered herself down to the platform. She then removed what was left of the cigarette and took a puff before exiting the room. The guests applauded as she left, not by clapping their hands, but in a quieter fashion of snapping their fingers, so as not to disrupt the rest of the party.

"That was splendid," a woman with a British accent raved. "What shall we see next."

"I have an idea," Raven spoke up. "AMBER, come here . . . front and center."

Amber thought her heart had leaped out of her chest when she heard her name. Dazed, she felt everyone's attention sharpen on her as she moved through the crowd to the center of the room, her hands tightening on the empty drink tray she was still holding.

Raven took the tray from Amber and gave it to another girl, then he reached under the platform to stop it from rotating.

“Now step up here so everyone can have a better look at you.”

With her head down, Amber quietly took her place.

"Your eyes have been on the Daphne all evening," he stated loudly. "Why is that?"

Amber glanced over to the other girl, their eyes met briefly, then she turned her gaze blankly to the floor again.

"I . . . I don't know, Master," she stammered. She could feel a warm flush in her cheeks.

"I see," Raven paused. "Daphne, stand up please and come over here."

Daphne rose to her feet and quickly straightened her dress before approaching them.

Raven turned to Stryker, "With your permission?"

Stryker nodded.

"Daphne," he continued, "kiss Amber."

As the other girl stepped on the platform, Amber noticed her gem-green eyes no longer had that 'vacant' look but were now filled with a passion that made her own heart beat faster. Daphne brought her hands up and lightly touched her face. Amber closed her eyes. Then they kissed. Their lips parted and Amber felt Daphne's tongue dart in and dance with hers. That moment, she had forgotten about everyone else in the room. It was just the two of them, before Raven's voice broke in.

"Now Daph, I want you to remove her garment," he softly ordered, "and from behind please, so we can all see her."

Daphne slowly and very seductively moved around behind Amber, her fingers lightly trailing up her arm to the disrobing loop. The silk cloth she wore suddenly slid down to her feet. Amber was naked now. She could feel dozens of eyes burning trails up and down the front of her body, appraising the size and shape of her breasts, and the very core of intimacy between her legs, which just that morning, had been shaved completely bare by Monique.

So much adrenaline coursed through her system that she could hardly keep from trembling. By then, the small group had grown to over thirty -- all of them complete strangers. Amber yearned for the proverbial fig leaf -- anything to offer some protection. She felt like a prepubescent girl on merciless display; a working-class lass stripped bare before the aristocracy; a commodity waiting for buyers to determine her value. For several terrible moments, she stood there, waiting . . . helplessly.

"Daphne, why don't you touch her breasts . . . from behind, please."

Amber closed her eyes tight, but she could still feel their stares, boring into her flesh. She felt Daphne's fingers curl around to caress her breasts from behind. Fear suddenly welled up inside, her body shaking visibly now. It wasn't that she wasn't enjoying Daphne's attentions, but had never experienced these feelings before, nor was she aware they even existed within her. Now they were being drawn out and put on open display for everyone to observe. She tried to control her fear as Daphne tweaked her nipples with her long fingernails, drawing the tightening pink buds out from her breasts. She even tried to smile once, but her act was a pathetic attempt, and she knew it. She felt light-headed, she began to sway as though she were about to faint.

"Ok Daph, you can stop now," Raven spoke up with a tone of disappointment in his voice. "Amber, take your dress and put it back on, then bring out another tray. We have some empty glasses here."

After Daphne released her, Amber quickly gathered up her tunic. As she left the room, she heard Raven say,

"The girl isn't ready yet."


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As the evening moved on, the music changed subtly. The tempo slowed and deeper baritones resonated throughout the rooms. The groups began to break down into smaller and smaller numbers. Amber had still been in a daze through it all after what happened with Raven and Daphne. Her body was covered in silk again, but it didn't seen to help much. She felt just as naked and vulnerable as she was without it.

Back in the Grand Room, the rotating platform was occupied by two women now. One of them was Loryanna, Master Stryker’s slave, and the other, a pretty brunette with long permed hair named Jenna. They were both completely nude and sitting face to face on the brightly lit plexiglass surface, with their long legs stretched wide apart like a V in front of them and the soles of their feet pressed together. While grasping each other’s forearms, both moved in a circular motion -- Loryanna arching sharply backward first with her head dropping back, while Jenna slowly hinged her own body forward from the hips. Her long dark, curly hair brushed against Loryanna’s open thighs as they the competed the rotation, then it was Jenna’s turn to arch backward before completing the circle. Their movements were slow and sensual, their eyes closed, as if completely immersed with themselves and the slow music while unaware of the guests around them watching.

They did several turns, before Loryanna, with some difficulty, leaned all the way back, pulling Jenna sharply forward until her face was mere inches between Loryanna’s thighs. They held the pose for everyone, their limbs trembling from the strain, their bodies beginning to sweat from the lights underneath them. Then Loryanna let her head fall back, her body tensed, arms pressing hard against her modest breasts before a moan passed her lips. Jenna’s long, dark hair was splayed outward, covering her face and Loryanna’s open thighs, but It didn't take much imagination to understand what was happening.

One by one, the other girls of Dark Oak Manor disappeared, having been 'loaned' out to some of the guests. Monique was first to be chosen, and then the others, until Amber was the only servant left, so two more kajirae were summoned to help. Their names were Shawna and Katie, under ownership of a man named Stefan Lochner. Having once been trained at Dark Oak Manor, Shawna still knew her way around the house and quickly took charge.

After the food was served, lights were dimmed and candles lit in their place to incite the right mood. Sparkling champagne was served in tall flute glasses. The soft melodies piped into the room had taken on a haunting refrain, the tempo more even and rhythmic, like a heart beat. Emotions seemed more primal and elusive.

In one darkened corner, Amber saw the 'boy slave' again, still naked, and lying on a plush round sofa-couch with two fully-clothed young women who were making sport of him. They had him tied up in such a way so that his arms were pinned behind his back and his legs stretched wide over the sides of the chair, baring his smooth genitals. As one of the women stroked and caressed his loins, coaxing him to an erection, the other took a small hand-held leather whip and slapped him on the chest and legs. The two nymphs giggled and switched roles. Both seemed quite skilled in keeping the poor fellow erect so that, gagged and helpless as he was, they could take turns tormenting him at their leisure.

Elsewhere, couples and trios began to dance to the eerie music. Amber observed more open displays of affection amongst men and women than she had noticed earlier in the evening. One woman in a see-through fishnet dress was rubbing up against her man, his hands openly exploring her body while the crowd observed. Wherever he touched, he received a satisfying response from his companion. Another man joined in. Both of them stepped in sync to press against the woman and sway with the gyrations of her pelvis. Then each stripped to the waist, and started rubbing their muscled arms and chests against her body. One of the men caressed her arms and coaxed them up above her head while the other moved in from behind, sandwiching her between them, kissing the back of her neck, while letting his hands stray down to her breasts. Other guests, both male and female, moved closer to join in the slow dance, all of them crowding around the woman in fishnet until she was no longer in view.

Meanwhile, the two nymphs on the round sofa were still busily at work with their bound slave, massaging his stiff member and balls with body oils, while kissing him on the neck, chest and thighs. Tears welled up in his eyes and he tried desperately to squirm away from their probing fingers. The movement was answered with a sharp lash from the whip. Unable to stop himself, he once again tried to evade them, and felt another lash. His muffled groans behind the gag and his wide eyes pleaded for relief, but to no avail. In fact, the women taunted him all the more, both verbally and with their expert hands, stroking and teasing, followed by an abrupt stop, then continuing again by alternating cycles of arousal and frustration. A small crowd of people gathered to watch. The show continued for at least another ten minutes until mercy was finally given. His massive organ began to pump wildly, and the spectators cheered in unison as streams of the white, milky fluid spewed into the air and landed on his chest.

Two hours passed and the party began to thin out. None of the guests were leaving though, but merely moving to more remote parts of the house. Some went to the rooms upstairs, others down to the 'dungeon' to try out the different racks, cages, whips, floggers and other implements of torture that were left for them. By then, Monique had emerged from the dungeon to rejoin the party. She was somewhat fatigued after a particularly long session with a few guests, but she quickly recovered and resumed to her duties as bartender. In spite of all the activity going on around her, Amber still could not get Daphne out of her mind. Many times her eyes wandered, searching for her, but neither she, nor Raven were anywhere to be found.

As the party moved to different parts of the house, so did the servers. Like waitresses, Amber and the other girls went from room to room, taking orders while sessions were in progress. In the new wing of the house, the 'themed rooms' were made available to guests for the first time. There was the Interrogation Room, with its harsh spotlights, two-way mirror, straight-backed subject chair and claustrophobic size, designed to be both physically and psychologically uncomfortable for the victim. The Medical Suite housed two separate bays, each with a stainless-steel OB/GYN exam table, well-equipped crash cart, and outlets for wired nipple clamps, electric probes, and other high-tech toys.

In another room, Shii Ann was playing the part of the Asian schoolgirl being punished by her 'headmaster'. She was ordered to bend over his desk so he could lift the plaid skirt to uncover her virgin-white panties and give her a good paddling. Next he had her lie face-up on the desk. Her arms and legs were bent over the sides and bound with rope. More punishment was then administered with a wooden ruler to various parts of her body. Each time, a piece of clothing was removed to expose more of her flesh, followed by jerks, flinches and vocalizations as the defenseless ‘student’ was tormented again and again.

The themed rooms drew high praise from guests, but the dungeon downstairs was still an over-all favorite, and the center of much activity throughout the night. Descending the narrow steps for the first time with her drink tray, Amber was greeted by Shawna on her way up.

"Busy down there," she managed to whisper as they passed.

The entire level was dimly lit with small torches flickering off the concrete walls. As Amber reached the bottom of the steps she could hear the muffled, distant sounds of stinging lashes, thuds of paddles against naked flesh, moans and screams from almost every room.

There were at least two caning sessions in progress, one of them involving the lovely slave, Elisabeth. Having arrived at the party with Lamar Quinn, she was bartered away several times during the evening, most recently to a young couple, who now had her straddling a wooden carpenter's horse called ‘the pony’. Her legs were bent forward and fastened to each side of the padded leather spine, her arms stretched high and locked in leather cuffs that dangled down from the ceiling by a chain. For the caning, a long, jointed bamboo rod was used, soaked in water beforehand to prevent it from splitting. The tension of the chain kept Elisabeth's upper body bent forward, offering her swaying breasts and pert, upturned ass as prime targets for the punishment, which lasted almost an hour.

Other pieces of furniture, like the infamous St. Augustine's Cross were also put to good use. Its design and purpose was simple -- a pair of 4 x 4s, crossed and mounted to one wall, with leather cuffs on each end for binding the slave in a spread-eagle position. The latest victim, Katie, was tormented by at least four different mistresses before she was finally released.

Great amounts of wine, champagne and mixed cocktails were consumed, which kept Shane and the other handlers busy, since it was their job to oversee the sessions and make sure nothing got out of hand.

In the dungeon, Amber took orders from each room, then rushed upstairs to Monique at the bar and often nearly bumped into Shawna, who was in charge of the upstairs. Amber had worked as a waitress in both high school and college, but she never found the job as challenging as this, because the incentive this time was not wages or tips, but to avoid being placed on the receiving end of the abuse she was witnessing throughout the house.

When she reached one room toward the back of the dungeon, it was almost completely dark, but with just enough candlelight to reveal Loryanna suspended nude by her wrists with her toes just touching the floor. Mistress Sonia was there with several guests, demonstrating the use of a hand-held device called a ‘violet wand’.

Loryanna had a slender body, fair skin and straight shoulder-length blonde hair that was lightly permed. Her legs were long and her arms willowy. Her hips flared just slightly, but were well-toned, as well as her thighs, and her ass was round and inviting, making her figure appear more sensual and graceful than athletic.

The violet wand itself was a coil transformer encased in a missel-shaped handle with an electrical cord running to a wall outlet. Attached to the end was a plasma-filled glass bulb that glowed violet in the dark and released crackling sparks against Loryanna’s flesh will Sonia ran it up and down her body. Loryanna, in turn, could nothing but moan pleas into her gag while twisting and turning helplessly on the cord.

Amber quickly took drink orders and left the room.

It was about midnight when people began moving to the Grand Room again and Amber was instructed by Monique to serve drinks there.

On the east side, past the fireplace where the guests were gathering, furniture had been cleared away in preparation for some form of entertainment that was just about to begin. A wooden post was set in the center and layers of animal pelts sewn together were spread on the floor around it. Scented votive candles flickered from iron pillars to inspire the right setting and mood.

Across the room, Amber caught sight of Raven and Daphne. It had been over an hour since she saw them last, and now both were sitting together very close, his hand caressing her bare thigh through the open slit in her dress. A tinge of jealousy swept through Amber when she saw them. There was no denying now, her attraction to Daphne, and a sense of bitter rejection in seeing her Master's attentions focused on another slave -- only one day after spending a passionate night with him.

The upcoming performance was rumored to be a highlight of the evening, but no one, other than Raven himself, seemed to know what it would be. After a long wait, he finally stood up and clapped his hands twice,

"Bring in the dancer," he ordered.

The music began. The guests grew silent. All eyes turned to the back of the room as a woman appeared through a darkened doorway in back. She wore Gorean dancing silk, wrapped strategically around parts of her body -- just enough for modesty.

Amber immediately recognized the girl as she moved into the candlelight. A veil covered much of her face, but there was no mistaking her large, captivating green eyes and the pointed tribal tattoo on her lower left hip.

The dancer about to perform for Raven and his guests was Livia.

(continued)