Indoctrination - Chapter 20

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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

Love is found more often among slave girls than free women. If you would learn love, learn slavery.

"Beasts of Gor"
by John Norman


Chapter 20: A Bad Day

It would be an understatement to say that Raven's relationship with Sonia had taken some odd turns lately, but nothing prepared him for what happened that morning at the stables.

Ever since the little 'romp' the two of them had on his desk, Sonia seemed to be baiting him with her saucy behavior and flippant attitude. He also knew she resented him for taking the new girl, Amber, away from her to train himself. Raven knew it was a bad move, but he sensed more than just professional jealousy from his Head Mistress. She was taking it more personally, which surprised him. He never thought of Sonia as the possessive type. In fact, Raven saw her more as a mirror image of himself and assumed that a little physical activity on the side would never affect their work relationship. As it turned out, he was wrong, but he couldn’t figure if her obsession was over him or the girl?

Something was bugging her, and whatever that problem was, it needed to be ironed out immediately. When Monique told him Sonia had gone for a ride, he decided to go to the stables and try to arrange a truce.

Standing at the gate, Raven watched and admired the way she rode her mount around the track. Her form was impeccable, ever erotic -- the way she lifted her ass off the saddle in perfect rhythm of the horse's canter, her long fiery red hair dancing in the breeze. He strolled around the stables and peeped into the harness room. There was a powerful scent of old leather. Raven always liked that smell. On the walls, bits and bridles hung together with reins and stirrups. He heard the sound of a horse's hooves and turned to see Sonia ride into the yard. She dismounted. Her face was stoic.

"Have to unsaddle and rub him down," she said.

"That is a fine-looking stallion. What's his name?"

"Fiero. He's a gelding."

That would figure, Raven thought to himself. He followed her into the stall. Her face was flushed with the exercise. He'd never seen her look so handsome. She wore classical riding gear, a crisp white blouse under a tight-fitting black velvet jacket. As she bent to undo the horse's girth he looked at her rounded cheeks encased in skin-tight, tan breeches. The outfit was completed by shiny black leather boots, knee-high.

Perhaps he had thought wrong in cutting short the affair entirely. Sonia seemed like a sensible woman. She was certainly more interesting than the slave girls he had been spending so much time with lately. He decided not to be so hasty in his decision and discuss the possibilities with her over dinner . . .

"Sorry," she said. "I'm dining out with someone else."

"Who?"

"Carlo Santos."

"I see." Something in her voice made him suspicious. "He was once your lover, wasn't he?"

She hesitated. "Yes, but that was a long time ago."

Sonia was holding something back.

"So why do you still see him?" Raven persisted.

"Is it really necessary for you to know how I spend my evenings off?"

"Cancel it," he said. "I want you to dine with me."

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"I promised Carlo I would dine with him, and I always keep my promises."

"Meaning I don't?"

"Forget it," she dismissed the argument, "I'll cancel my engagement, but I'm not spending the evening with you or anyone else," then she turned her back on him -- an act of defiance that Raven was not used to, even from his head mistress.

He knew of Sonia's brief affair with Santos; that she had broken it off several months ago. Was she using this as a way to provoke him again? Or was she hiding something else? Either way he felt his anger rising. He realized now how much he wanted to control the woman, but he let his emotions cool a moment, then approached her again.

Sonia had taken the saddle off and was giving the horse a rub down.

"We have servants for that," Raven said to her.

"I prefer to do it myself."

"Look . . ." his anger began to build again, "we need to talk."

"Talk about what?" Sonia's back was to him, but Raven could sense a smirk on her face.

"Is it the girl?"

"Who?"

"You know damn well who. You were angry with me when I took over her training, am I right?"

Sonia turned and laughed, "Why should I be angry? You're the boss, and she certainly isn't the first little slave girl you've taken under your wing."

The anger was boiling over now, his heart hammering against his chest. Something was coming over him, something too powerful to be denied.

"I won't be trifled with!"

"Is that so?" She raised an eyebrow, as if to say, ‘just what are you prepared to do about it?’

Raven was about to leave, but Sonia continued with the provocation,
"This is the year 2000, you know, the beginning of the twenty-first century?” The horses fidgeted and snorted in their stalls. "And as you can see, I don’t have a collar around my neck. That means outside of work, I don’t take orders from you or Carlo."

The pot boiled over, and Raven had enough.

"Stupid, bitch!"

Before Sonia could respond, he struck her across the cheek with the back of his hand, so hard she stumbled backward and fell to the ground. Her head hit one of the stall posts, almost knocking her unconscious.

Raven picked up a long leather strap lying across a wooden rail. Grabbing Sonia, he pulled off her velvet jacket and ripped the sleeves of her blouse, exposing her bare arms up to the elbows, then bound her wrists together tight with the strap. She was still dazed from hitting her head, but even so, Sonia put not struggle whatsoever, convincing Raven that she really wanted this.

He pulled her to the side of the stall and looped the other end of the strap through a beam overhead. With incredible strength, driven by his anger, he pulled her up off the ground so that her arms were pinioned above her head, and then tied the other end of the strap to a post.

By then Sonia’s head began to clear, and she struggled silently, determinedly, but it was too late. Seizing another strap, he knelt down and bound her ankles together. Then he undid the belt around her waist and yanked her breeches down to her knees. Underneath she wore a pair of white lacy panties. These too he pulled down, with such violence that he tore the thin material. Her horse turned its head to look as if mildly curious.

Bound hand and foot, and hanging from the beam by her wrists, Sonia had ceased struggling, but she glanced behind her nervously to see what he intended. On a bench nearby she'd set down her riding crop. He picked it up and advanced on her.

Sonia's lower body looked pale and clearly out of place in the dingy stable. The small tuft of coarse red hair between her legs seemed to bristle with excitement.

"Is this the only way you can deal with a woman," she taunted again between breaths, "by treating her like one of those FUCKING whores you call slaves!"

"You call yourself a woman?"

He measured the distance carefully, tapping the crop lightly against her bare tush. Then he raised it above his shoulder and brought it sharply down across both cheeks. Sonia lurched her body forward. She whimpered softly. He raised the crop and struck her again, only harder, aiming exactly at the same spot. Two livid red lines marked her white skin. Again, he raised the crop. This time, Sonia tried to move out of the way and it struck her to one side, partly on the hip.

"Keep still," he said curtly. "You're going to get a dozen strokes, and if you move on any of them they will be repeated. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she whispered, so low he could hardly hear her voice.

The crop rose and fell. Her body was trembling now but, resigned to her fate, she no longer tried to move away. Her sweetly rounded cheeks were crisscrossed with bright red welts. Raven knew if he stopped now he would not have the nerve to go on, so he steeled himself to deliver what he had promised, 12 strokes, while he listening to her screams and watching the tears flowing from her eyes. Again and again he struck her buttocks and backs of her thighs with the same crop she had used on her own horse. A terrible excitement was upon him now, as though his body were humming with electricity. He took a break, but only to rip the blouse apart to expose her back, before administering the final blows there.

At last Raven was finished. He lowered his arm and stood panting. He could feel his cock throbbing. He opened his trousers and took it out. Her lovely crack looked inviting, in spite of the ugly welts. Standing behind her, he reached around and felt between her legs. The fur covering her mound was soaked. Sonia arched her upper body forward and curled her tail end up to accommodate him. Savoring the moment, he slid himself into her wet vagina and fucked her slowly from behind, holding her scorched and bruised buttocks in his hands. He tore open the front of her blouse and gave her naked tits a rough squeeze, then reached down to her thighs and pulled her legs backward while forcing her upper body to arch forward for deeper penetration. All the while, Sonia hung there helplessly, her blouse torn to shreds and her nearly naked body shaking like a ragdoll with each thrust, again and again. When Raven finally came, she moaned softly.

He finally released her legs and held Sonia in his arms for a few moments, then slipped his dripping cock slowly out of her. He untied her, pulled her breeches gently up over her behind, and kissed her face, tasting the salt in her tears.

"I love you," she said.

"Let the stable hand care for your horse," he answered, "and come with me."

Raven helped Sonia slip her jacket and breeches back on, then took her from the stables to the house. He led her by the hand up the stairs to her bedroom and undressed her again, laying her on the bed face down. Tenderly he stroked the marks he had made, tracing the faint red lines.

"I said that I loved you, but you didn't answer," she persisted.

"I've never loved anyone in my entire life."

"I’ve heard differently."

"You have?" Raven laughed. "There has been a grapevine within The Organization since long before you arrived. Don’t trust everything you hear."


He then turned Sonia over and kissed her between the legs, circling closer and closer to her clitoris with his tongue, not tormenting her this time, but only thinking of her pleasure, until she came with a cry of delight.


----------


Before giving Sonia the beating of her life, Raven had been entertaining an attractive, young couple by the name of Robert and Olivia Sloan. He greeted them warmly when they arrived early that morning, then ordered Bloody Mary's to be served on the patio. Amber was assigned to be a 'paga kajirae' or server. Her slave status had also been moved up to yellow silk. That meant she could be used by anyone in any way, even sexually, but only with her Master's consent.

Raven and his two guests conversed for over an hour. He invited them to sit in on some of the training sessions scheduled for that day. Mr. Sloan politely said 'no', but then asked if they could hold a private session with Monique instead.

"An hour or two, if possible," Sloan added. "We even brought our own kit."

Raven agreed to the request, and money was exchanged. Amber couldn't hear how much, but the amount appeared to be at least $1,000 in cash.

She was always amazed with how casually everyone conducted themselves at Dark Oak Manor. The degradations and tortures slaves endured were just a part of their daily life, and there seemed to be no concern that the FBI or local police would ever invade the world they had created for themselves.

'Their world' was called The Organization. Amber heard the name the first night she had arrived, and as the weeks passed, more details were revealed to her. The Organization spanned all across the globe with wealthy slave owners and training facilities located throughout the U.S., Europe, Asia, and South America. Each region was well buffered from the others and operated on its own. It had been arranged that way for security reasons. In Venezuela, slave farms and training centers were actually supported by their own government, allowing them to run their businesses more freely. Amber heard that in some of the more remote jungles of South America, slave girls were forced to remain bare-breasted at all times, with only a piece of bark cloth to wrap around their hips. Equally primitive, was their treatment by the owners, which was far more brutal than anything she had seen at Dark Oak Manor. It was said that a girl sent down there usually lasted about a year or so at the most. She couldn't imagine that such a society could exist in this century, but it did.

Once the agreement was made with his guests, Raven sent Amber to fetch Monique before leaving for the stables. Mr. and Mrs. Sloan were waiting for them upstairs in one of the guest rooms. They ordered Monique to strip off her camisk, which she did, then they told her to lie down on the large four-posted bed and gagged her. Four throw pillows from a couch nearby were placed under her back to keep her upper body raised slightly. Her arms and legs were then bound to each corner post with silk scarves, stretching them in standard spread-eagle fashion, though not too tight, allowing her limbs to squirm salaciously against her bindings. The bed itself seemed immense with its elaborate dark oak frame and canopy overhead. Monique's round hips and ass were buried in the comforter she lay on, but her neatly trimmed 'cleft of venus', as the Sloans described it, was still very accessible with her legs spread so wide.

Mr. Sloan opened a black leather bag and removed the tools they would be using -- vibrators, nipple clamps, a flogger, and a pair of mink gloves. Monique began twisting and pulling gently on her restraints, her spread legs squirming against the restraints, backs of her knees brushing lightly and sensually against the soft, plush bedding. Acting through a conditioned reflex, like Pavlov's dogs, she seemed to revel in her helplessness. Her pretty blue eyes were wide with anticipation of what was to come.

"I think we should use the clamps first," Mrs. Sloan commented while stroking Monique's golden hair.

"Good choice, sweetheart."

The vice-like clamps were applied and tightened slowly, crushing the base of each pink nipple. Then the husband and wife team each donned a mink glove on one hand and ran the silky fur up and down her splayed legs, up to her breasts and around the hardware hanging off her swollen nubs. Bound as she was, Monique could do nothing, but encourage them with her muffled moans and pleading glances, while the squirming never stopped. By the time Mr. Sloan reached for the vibrator, she was already on the cusp of her first orgasm.

The vib he chose had a tennis ball sized head that spun on a rod inside its handle. Switching the speeds between high and low, the couple took turns rubbing the spinning head against her smooth, quivering pubis, pulling it away only when she was about go over the edge. Monique responded in turn by worming her legs, pumping her thighs and grinding her ass into the bedding. Her barely audible moans were a mixture of pleasure and desperation. Watching her reactions obviously pleased the Sloans to no end.

For over an hour, they took turns tormenting their slave while Amber brought them drinks. So engrossed they were in the activity that her presence was hardly even noticed. Finally, Mrs. Sloan turned to their servant and invited her to watch, so Amber set the tray down and took a seat.

Meanwhile, Monique was thrashing about on the bed. They were using the flogger now, and slapping the beaded leather tails between her thighs. For Amber, watching this being done to someone else always looked more frightening then going through it herself. Monique seemed to welcome the strokes though by eagerly raising her hips up off the bedding as much as she could to greet them.

Amber was intrigued with how deeply focused the Sloans were on Monique's reactions. Each erotic outburst seemed to spread to the other two, as if the idea of the scene had been to weld themselves so closely to their sub partner, that her climax would become their climax. Amber didn't see two people merely exploiting a helpless slave girl. She saw the three of them working together in achieving the same goal.

In her role, Monique had surrendered her body to the Sloans, completely and unconditionally, and allowed that physical part of her to take her wherever it wanted to go until she became lost in a mindless swirl of pain and bliss.

Amber knew, all to well, what that journey was like, having been through it herself so many times. First there were the gentle slaps to the flesh, signaling the advent of a flogging or canning. Then, the ‘rush’ that flowed throughout one's entire body when the whippings grew more intense, dulling certain senses, such as the ability to minimize pain and the ability to think clearly. As the physical part conditioned itself to accept even harder blows, so followed the more potent and persistent sensation of floating in a calm state of liquid darkness. Movements seemed slow and uncoordinated. Sometimes one would even experience an outpouring of emotions, ranging from absolute elation to utter loneliness, but the warmth of a Master's or Mistress' presence always pervaded it. Amber heard many names for this state -- "subspace", "the furies", or "highs". She knew how powerful it was; that anything could be done to her body, while she was unable (or unwilling) to resist in any manner.

What Amber didn't know until recently, was what it was like to be on the other end of the whip. She remembered that night she was ordered to discipline Daphne -- the feel of the whip in her hand, the smell of leather, the sound of it slapping against a girl's soft flesh, the screams. Amber felt those same endorphins she had as a slave, filling her head and coursing through veins, only this time, in knowing SHE was the one brutalizing another.

She had never felt such power before, and with that power, came a closeness and awareness of what Daphne was experiencing on the receiving end. She wanted both of them to travel along that edge together. This telepathy became so intense that Amber had completely lost touch with everyone else in the room until she heard Master Raven's voice,

"Ease up, pet, or you'll kill the poor bitch."

Despite the fact that Amber somehow managed to keep the flogger moving, it brought her back to a reality that she wasn't aware she had left. In hindsight, Amber guessed it to be a form of 'Dom space', but up to that point, she was never aware of it. That interruption also seemed to transmit itself to Daphne, who had been on her own 'trip', then suddenly, after Raven's interruption, looked very cold, lost, and frightened, as if she had been left alone in a dark place.

Because these highs often clouded perception and rational thinking, it was conceivable that even a sophisticated Dom could get carried away and become less alert to the needs and reactions of the submissive. Just the other day, Amber was told about a girl named Colleen, who literally choked to death while hanging naked in a small room while her Master stood only few feet away, apparently unaware of the danger. Hearing the tragic tale made Amber think of her own session with Daphne. Unsupervised, the two of them could have gone all night. She wondered what the results might have been if Raven were not there to stop her, and found the thought unsettling to say in the least.

For another hour, the Sloans had Monique pleading and moaning, until Robert finally decided to "finish her off" with a small wand vibrator designed solely for clitoral stimulation. He placed the marble-sized vibrating head against her budding flesh and held it there. Monique writhed on the bed, unable to keep her own ass still, until her body stiffened, and with a whimper, she climaxed again and again. She curled her head back against the pillows and thrust her breasts forward, hips and thighs grinding against the bedding, then her eyes opened, as if from a daze, and locked on her Master's crotch. His cock was noticeably hard and pressing outward against his pleated trousers.

Robert Sloan quickly removed his clothes and climbed onto the bed with Monique still bound and waiting. He removed the gag, and Monique flicked her tongue out to moisten her lips as he straddled her breasts. He leaned forward, and she parted her lips to receive him.

Sitting with her legs together, Amber was so taken by the scene that she didn't even notice Olivia Sloan slip out of her summer dress, and move silently behind her chair.

Robert forced the entire length of his shaft into Monique's mouth, tilting her head back again on the pillows to expose her tender neck. Amber watched with unblinking awe as the smooth muscles under her chin worked hard to accommodate the massive, intruding organ, which had grown considerably when aroused. Her daze was finally awakened by the soft touch of Mrs. Sloan's hands probing between her thighs.

"Come with me," she ordered.

She guided Amber by the hand to a leather armchair, then she turned and sat down. Her naked body sank deep in the soft, shiny cushion as she draped her legs wide around the padded arms, signaling what she wanted from the slave.

With her lips, Amber brushed the hard tips of Olivia’s breasts, then trailed kisses down to the V of her body. Olivia was quick to yield -- but not to Amber. Her thoughts were still directed toward her husband. His still-throbbing cock had now shifted from Monique's mouth to her hollowed, open thighs. She cried out as he plunged deep into her without warning, and with no mercy. His rhythm quickened, and his thrusts became more violet. Monique cried out again as her body rocked helplessly against him, legs still wide open in their restraints. Finally, the man tore abruptly away from her and nearly fell back on the floor, as though struck by lightning, and he too gave a cry.

This sent Olivia over the edge. She raised her arms and grasped the back of the chair tightly. Her eyes rolled up toward the ceiling and she moaned. It was an anonymous, impersonal pleasure of which Amber was merely the instrument. It meant nothing to her that Amber admired her face and body, nor did she care whether or not Amber heard her cries when the slave's lips and teeth found her clit and surrounded the crest of flesh. She merely seized Amber by the hair to press her more closely to her, then let her go only to say to her,

"Again. Do it again."


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Later that evening, Sonia caught Tony by the arm as they passed each other in the hall,

"Where is Shane? I need to speak with him and he's not in his room."

"You'll probably find him in the OC. He has the overnight shift."

"I thought Len was scheduled for surveillance tonight."

"Uh . . . yeah, but I think they switched," Tony suddenly hesitated, fearing he might have gotten his friend in trouble. "Do you want me to get him for you?"

Sonia merely grunted and brushed past. She was in no mood to talk to anyone. It was very late and her ass was still throbbing from the confrontation she had with Raven earlier that day.

Confrontation? The thought almost made her laugh.

I was more like a thrashing. Then if that wasn't bad enough, in a heat of passion, she told him she ‘loved’ him, and his response was less than lukewarm. Sonia felt wounded after that, like a heartbroken teenager dumped at her high school prom. Even worse, Raven KNEW how she felt about him now, and that only intensified her hatred of him.

So her day had gone very badly, and all she wanted now was to soak it all out in a hot bath, and then go to bed. First, she needed to speak with Shane about assisting her with Livia's next session, which was scheduled early the next morning. She knocked on the door to the Observation Center and entered. No one was there.

"Where the hell is he?" she whispered to herself.

Sonia was just about to leave the room, when something on one of the surveillance monitors caught her eye. It was number 6, Heidi's cell, and Shane was with her. She moved to the control panel and sat in the chair, her eyes still fixed on the screen in disbelief.

Not only had the girl been freed from her restraints, but she was on her knees in front of Shane. His back was to the camera, though it didn't take much guessing to figure out what they were doing. Sonia sat there and watched Heidi's head jerk and bob back and forth between the open seams of his jeans. The act itself was nothing out of the ordinary. Sometimes Raven granted each of his handlers a girl for the night, but new arrivals like Heidi, were strictly off limits.

Shane suddenly grabbed the girl by the hair and bent her over the bed. Then he mounted her from behind.

"Didn't this idiot realize the surveillance camera was on them?"

Looking around, Sonia found another tape dated the previous day sitting next to the recorder. Apparently he was planning to switch that one with the tape in the recorder, and then change the dates. Not a very bright idea, but no one ever paid much attention to the tapes anyway. Usually they were just recycled every few days or so without even being watched.

"The fucking little scamp," this time she spoke out loud.


Her eyes turned to the monitor again. Shane was still busy, pumping merrily away into Heidi's bent over body. Sonia waited patiently until the two lovebirds were finished, then turned up the volume just as Shane finished.

"Your getting better at this, sweetheart," he remarked seconds later as he buttoned his fly. "Pretty soon you'll be a real pro."

"I don't plan on waiting that long," Heidi was rinsing her mouth out with water. "When do I get out of here, anyway?"

Shane's answer was a back of the hand across her face. It wasn't very hard, but enough to shake her up a little.

"I told you we don't discuss that shit," he snapped. "You just remember your part of the deal, and keep a lid on it. I'll handle the rest."

Then in a gesture that almost seemed touching, Shane reached out with his hand and tenderly caressed the cheek he just slapped.

"Now get back in bed so I can strap you in."

That was all Sonia needed to hear. She pulled a new tape out of the cabinet and switched it with the tape in the machine. Then she left the room, taking the tape of Shane and Heidi with her.

A subtle smile crossed her lips just at the thought of what Raven's reaction might be when he saw what his best handler was doing behind his back. When she turned to climb the staircase, she was actually whistling. As it turned out, this hadn't been such a bad day after all.

(continued)