Confessions Of A Sadist

Confessions of a Sadist

*MasterN*

There's no doubt about it…

…I've always fallen in love with sluts.

Most of the other trainers don't understand my proclivity for the "bad girls". Put off by wantonness, they would prefer what I call a "debasement of virtue"… seduction and use of innocents that find their way here.

But if I don't hurt the sluts, who will?

It's a very important role I fulfill, making a fallen girl's dark dreams come true. It's their prison, within the walls of this prison.

Most of my girls know right away who I am, and why I am standing at the end of their leash in such dark, unsettling territory. They give me that look through watery eyes that says, "I'm finally home."

Others have yet to figure this out. Sure…they know that tight shorts and tube tops are what got them here, but they are confused about why tied elbows and public nudity make their cunts wet. My job is to clear away those clouds of confusion, my mission to introduce them to themselves, and I am very passionate about it.

Our prison for women is just what you'd expect…dark, frightful and very secluded. Think of it as Roissey without room service.

…or polite invitations.

You'll find a military order to things here. We set new standards for discipline and cruelty every day. The ladies are brought in from all over…party colleges, spring break beaches, sometimes its even frustrated parents who bring their 18 year olds here, falling for our "Home for Wayward Women" front, hook and sinker. All of them need to be quickly processed and indoctrinated to our rules and expectations. We sort them by sexual capacity, rather than by age or physical characteristics. Virgins, for instance, go to block A. Somedays I will see them led in that direction with their blank, uncomprehending eyes.

* yawn *

Other types fill the remaining blocks…frigid school marms, gender bending athletes and pure lesbians. They all have a promising future as chattel for the slave markets. But if you ask me, it's a slut who makes the best servant. My coworker would agree; there are too many of these trollops for one boss to handle, so we have those evil processing bitches divide them into two groups. They use one simple rule: any girl with panties on gets them ripped and stuffed in their mouths (my partner gets these), while nymphs caught without come to me with bright red ball gags in place. You might think my partner gets most of the new clients based on this rule, but you'd be wrong. No matter…a ball filled mouth keeps my girls separate until they get their permanent numbers.

All kinds of girls find themselves here…shy lilting waifs or haughty, defiant hellcats. What they all have in common is a healthy, raging libido. I have my personal favorites among these as well. These are the troublesome ones, as if they came straight off the TV talk show stage. These "Girls Out of Control" are done cursing at booing crowds of morons. In me they will find their biggest fan, a true admirer of their libidinous ways. Truly, I love the power of their sexual confidence, and now I'm going to help them focus it in ways they'd only fantasized about.

First, we change the way they process physical sensations. Sexually, they've been working overtime, so we'll stroke, pinch, bite and whip every part of their bodies except their slobbering cunts. Like a form of blindness, deprivation is great for heightening other sensations.

And it all becomes easier for them once they accept their fate. That seems to be the case with the latest arrival. She's a striking, curvy brunette with pendulous breasts and pouting red lips. She tries not to make eye contact with me. It's not that she doesn't want to…its that she fears what will be revealed if she does. If that makes sense to you, then you understand what kind of girl this is.

…gee, do you want a job here?

Her pretty green eyes are already pouring out their tears, painting her face with with beautiful black streaks.

*sigh * I can already feel my blood starting to roil hot. Sometimes these little bitches know how to task a sadists self control…or perhaps it was involuntary?

They think I ignore their cries. After all, I hear little sluts bawling day and night. But to me, each one makes a unique sound. I recognize this one right away…and its different from the frantic choking type I often hear. Rather, hers are soft sobs of shame…. And something else…

…relief.

There comes a time in every tease's life when she confronts the truth about herself, when her own body betrays attempts at self-control. It often happens as they kneel before me on this cold hard floor, experiencing an erotic kind of epiphany. It leaves them more naked and open to life than the day they were born.

Eventually, her cries trail away, replaced by tender whimpers of acceptance.

"Now, that's a good girl" I say, hanging up the single tail. "You aren't going to be any trouble for me, are you?"

Soothing words…coming as a surprise to her. She closes her eyes as the answer comes…

Her head turns slowly, first to one side..

..then the other.

Ass training starts immediately. All of my girls become "anal sluts", and will eventually have the ability to orgasm this way exclusively. The challenge they face, however, is their lack of experience in this area. I can't blame them for this shortcoming though. Think about it…would you trust some young frightened, fumbling punk with this part of your anatomy? Of course not.

My current charge is much like the rest, having had nothing more than her own finger twisted up her winking hole. Therefore, I select a number two for the occasion (for those of you who think I'm referring to golf clubs, leave now), and lube it up for the journey. I always get an intense reaction from the girl when I press the tip against her opening. This one ushers in the plug with plaintive moans. Not the protesting kind, but low and controlled. If you listen carefully my fellow sadists, you can hear a smart slut negotiate her body into acceptance. I urge the plug in, carefully for my novice little tramp. Her moans peak as the wide part of the plug stretches her wide. As it passes the "point of no return" her ass greedily sucks the rest in. When it is seated firmly home, I give her a gentle pat on the head followed by a reassuring "Good girl". She sighs, cuz she knows that she is safe. Well, as safe as she can be with a pervert like me.

Think I'm a son of a bitch do ya

Yeah…I get that a lot.

An evaluation of oral skill is next, since we all know every girl is different. Unlike anal, they've all had practice of some sort…whether it's been with cucumbers, their mom's dildo, or the real thing. They're being trained to serve a variety of men, so she gets it all: Brutal, choking mouth fucks, all the way to the tender, sliding tongue stuff. She might have to swallow cum in gulping mouthfuls, or take it served up on the tip of her pink little tongue. It's all part of training designed to make a superior sex slave.

..I do have a reputation to uphold, you know.

The gag finally comes out, releasing her mouth just long enough to gasp "Please…!" before I replace it with a meaty cock.

Hmmm…what do you think she was trying to say? Please don't? Or please more? I have my own theory, but I won't spoil things by revealing too much now.

Ah yes…captive sluts. I almost pity them at times, the way they work so hard to satisfy me, to bring me to the peak of arousal with such genuine enthusiasm, only to have to suffer for it. I say almost, of course, because I know its what they truly crave. It's a truth I have seen borne out time and time again in the twisted faces and piercing screams of these bad girls gone "good", but a "good" that only a sadist can understand.

What's that…."sick bastard" did you say?

Why thank you…I've been trained by the best.

I would explain all of these concepts to the new girl before me, but its nothing we both don't already know. Instead, I mutter something about sodomy, and am favored by the most delicious whimpers possible from a full, working mouth.

Reluctantly, I pull out of this warm moist refuge, leaving it open to hear the steady entreatments and pleas for "mercy" and "gentleness…sounds that only make a bastard harder.

The plug has done it's job, and it comes out next, prolonging her beautiful cries.

"Don't fret little one" I soothe, "you'll come to love this in time."

It may sound like a line from a bad movie, but I can say it with a straight face; especially when I've seen it as often as I have. What's more difficult is to describe to you what it feels like to violate a well-greased butt hole like hers. I am often unsure whether these tight passages are trying to expel me, or hold me fast. My squirming trainee isn't any surer of these things herself, only that my movements preclude an imminent orgasm. I share with her the graphic details of my "gift" to her, and that it will be something she can covet until our next session together.

No sooner have I disengaged from her than I hear a most earnest and sincere "Thank you, Sir".

Goodness! Maybe I haven't seen everything after all!

I may have to keep this one for myself. Indeed, I've been considering retirement for some time. And while most of my contemporaries receive a gold watch for faithful service, a live in slut like this one would do nicely…especially if she is as winsome and responsive as this one.

I'll ponder that thought for awhile. In the meantime, I will hang on to this little angel face with the whore's body, keeping her close by. It's the only way to see just how much of an old pervert she can take.

Right now she is on hands and knees, nuzzling my leg like a week old kitten. Nice response, think I. I can't wait to see what a month's worth of undivided attention will bring out in her

Yup…that's me alright…

…the brutal, cunning, twisted owner of the latest slave slut in training…

and I think we're falling in love already.

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