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STANDARD DISCLAIMER
===================
The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment and
has only been posted to an appropriate group on the Internet. If it is
found in any other place, it is not the responsibility of the author.
If you are not an ADULT of legal age, you should avoid this text and
find something more appropriate to read
All characters in this story are fictitious, and any similarity to
persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not
necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this
story, some of which are dangerous and/or illegal. Do not, under any
circumstances, try this at home.
CainePaine
CainePaine@gmail.com
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"hole Control" - part 5
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Present day:
It's Thursday morning... not that hole is aware of the distinction. No, she just knows this scheduled period of time as Tummy-Training #6, and she has barely reached the middle of the automated 4-hour exercise program. She will finally be allowed to eat at its termination, with her meal's level of sophistication (or repugnance) based on her performance.
This day also marks a special anniversary for our unique relationship. Three years ago to the date, I drove hole, drugged, away from her plain home and carried her limp form down into my sanctum to live the life of a captive slut-slave. Just as she continues to do right now.
At the moment, she is hanging upside down in mid-air by her ankles, latex legs spread wide with the aid of a stainless steel bar between, and her pretty feet are topped with candy-red stripper heels. My kept angel is laboring away to maintain her nice, flat stomach.
To keep a watchful eye on this exercise, I have camera #1 closely focused on the two electrical pads taped to each of her toned buttcheeks. Camera #2 captures her inverted, exerted, and reddened face. And, the third camera is a wider shot from the ceiling looking down, continuously filming hole's ongoing efforts.
Also visible in this shot is a thick, braided rope hanging down in front of my fit bat-whore. This necessary pendulum allows hole to use her unfettered, but opera-gloved hands to pull herself up any time she chooses. Without this ability, she could be in danger of blood eventually pooling in her lungs and brain, a potentially fatal situation.
"Ten, nine, eight..." my recorded voice booms from the peripheral speakers installed in the corners of the room. It has been two minutes since she last climbed up to push the glowing red reset button clamped at the apex of the thick cord. I see hole's eyes groggily open again, and she inhales deeply in resignation before reaching out for the rope, her sculpted legs twisting forlornly above.
Since I only allowed her three hours sleep prior to this exercise, it is rather important that she not pass out from fatigue. So, to protect my fucktoy from inversion-induced damage, and to entertain myself, the shock pads adhered to her ass will inject incredible bolts of energy into her glute muscles if she fails to press the button in at least two-minute intervals.
The instant her hands begin to climb upward, her fresh face reflects the emotional toll this repeated action exacts. Although she has been through the same program multiple times in the past, her stomach muscles are obviously sore and cramping. The little squeaks and grunts she makes while fighting her way to the top are so endearing that I cannot help but smile. I could bounce a quarter off that tight stomach. I have certainly enjoyed slapping my enraged cock against it on more than one occasion.
"Four, three..." and then successful silence once more. My ab-flexing bitch climbs her way tediously back down the rope, brunette hair swaying. She learned long ago to do it that way rather than simply letting go. Anything to take some of the pressure off her spasming sheath of tummy muscles.
As she clenches her teeth and attempts to relax, she places unsteady hands over her flat belly, and soothes her midsection like a wounded dove she's trying to nurse back to health. A single bead of sweat runs quickly down her cheekbone and into her freshly clean hair, the ends of which intimately sweep the smooth cement floor.
I sit up suddenly, fascinated, as camera #1 shows hole's hands uncharacteristically creep into view. Perhaps she is providing her own motivation by caressing the wires and rubber pads stuck to her rear, reminding herself why she keeps toiling away even while exhausted. I have no worries, however, that she might tear away the devices, easy though it would be. My cunt-slave learned that particular lesson the hard way the very first time I strung her up for Tummy-Training #6.
She was still green back then. Thinking she still had some residual power to avoid the hardships I impose. Once she began to tire from lifting herself up to push the vexing button, she finally failed to beat the timer, and a torrent of electricity rushed into her backside. Immediately arching her spine and screaming stridently in misery, she maniacally clawed at the source of her posterior torment until the wires broke free.
While she covered her face and sobbed afterward, surely knowing this was a forbidden act, I walked calmly towards her in my dark, disguising robe and face mask. "You've been a bad girl, hole," I chastised. I ran my surgical-gloved hands over her sore stomach, feeling the tiny tremors within, but she was smart enough not to resist my touch. "Since you violated the rules of the exercise, we will simply work out that fat gut of yours by playing 'Retch' instead."
I could tell she was disconcerted by the unfamiliar term as she peaked between her fingers, but she dutifully answered, "yes, Master," in tearful acquiescence.
"I have a feeling you would have preferred to finish 'TT-6' little pet, but you will eventually learn that things can always be made worse. Now, open that mouth, slave. Wider!"
As soon as she complied, I bent to one knee to fit a 1 1/2 inch ring gag into her open mouth and buckled it tightly at the back of her neck. Then, behind her, I placed strict leather cuffs around her hands and upper arms. Both sets I then clipped to each other, insuring her arms would stay put and out of my way.
'Retch' is one of my favorite activities to engage in with hole, especially in the months before she learned better control over her natural reflexes. Using a long, very thin, muted-green dildo, I perform Retch by inserting the ribbed length of rubber repeatedly into the recesses of my slut's throat. Devilishly wriggling it against her tonsils like a snake's tongue while gripping a mane-full of her soft hair is a pure delight. And, three distinct purposes are served by her desperate struggles to expel the foreign probe:
1) Her diaphragm spasming again and again while her body tries to vomit ends up delivering the strenuous workout I desire anyway to her abdominal muscles
2) She learns a much better command of her gag reflex in order to better service the erect male phallus
3) Finally, when she decides to fuck with her Master's games in the future, she will remember that there are plenty of nasty alternatives to following his ever so reasonable requirements
As the first round of Retch commenced, my untamed slave's throat bulged as her esophagus began the rapid process of reverse peristalsis. Lacking anything of substance, however, since she hadn't eaten or drank for several hours beforehand, all this produced was empty dry heaving. She did end up creating several glistening puddles of slimy spit on my concrete floor, but she was decent enough to lick and slurp them all up afterwards.
Ah, such fond memories. Aided, of course, by my digital library fully catalogued by date. Sometimes while she's sleeping, I pick a random cut and blast the audio back over the loud speakers for hole's reminiscent edification.
I should really return to the present, however, because as I said today is a very special one for my trained fucktoy. To mark our three year anniversary together, I have an unbelievable surprise for her waiting in the wings.
For a little background, it has only been through a sheer, disciplined force of will that I have been able to refrain from abducting hole's two hottie biological sisters. Not that I didn't perform extensive research on their locations and daily routines. It's just that their captures would not be nearly as seamless or safe (for Me) as their dear sister's was.
For my kidnapping of hole, I waited for the ideal parameters before making my move. And, for her hole's new playmate, I owed it to myself to generally follow the same guidelines that had already proven so effective.
Switching my focus away from hole's routine ab-workout, I glance at the bank of HD monitors to my left and see the wonderful new addition to our family.
Its name is "inu" (pronounced e-new), and it is a Japanese foreign exchange student, a petite female of eighteen tender years who just had a rather abrupt and permanent change of address from its off-campus apartment.
inu has long, shiny hair framing an adorably innocent asian face. No breasts to speak of, flat as a rail actually, and it is a full foot shorter than hole. The exotic beauty's limbs are so skinny that I cannot imagine a set of measuring calipers being able to locate a single pinch of body fat on that diminutive but delectable package.
inu was able to enjoy living in America for only four weeks before I painstakingly took possession of it just a few days ago, and its command of the English language is sorely inadequate. Because of this, I have chosen the Japanese word for 'dog' as a fitting name to reinforce its new status here. In addition, it will never be given the chance to increase its English vocabulary beyond the basic dog training commands, sexual directions, and bodily functions.
It will be treated like a pet in every way. And, it will be fucked like a whore.
According to the informed but unwary sources I beguiled into providing further details about the pocket-sized "Yuko Masaya", she comes from a large family in Japan, and traveled to the States to study art history. Those who interacted with the newcomer found her to be extremely polite but studiously quiet and circumspect. She kept to herself mostly, except for attending a couple of gatherings of fellow Japanese ex-pats at the local student union.
During my blitz ransacking of her freshly painted but modest living quarters, I learned that my newest prize is also an aspiring artist. And, I have to admit that the full-color manga drawings in her personal portfolios I made off with are quite impressive and detailed.
So, my current plan is to befoul her artwork in some cruelly inventive way before displaying the constant reminders of her former life on the barren walls of her new home.
"its" new home, to be more precise.
The difference between hole and inu is that my very first sex slave will always hold a special place in my heart. She was captured to fill a certain emptiness in my deviant soul, and she pleases Me in ways I never before considered. Without question, she is still treated like an object to be used and frequently abused, but with my latest acquisition, inu, things will be quite different.
******
Kneeling submissively beside Me is my obedient hole, and the unexpected sight before her is surely one of disorienting deja vu.
For the last three days, inu has been subject to the same stark experience hole originally underwent upon her own arrival here three years ago. Locked naked in an escape-proof cage with a steel collar closely and traumatically tethering its fragile neck to the middle of the floor, inu has lived in kidnapped, bleak silence.
Of course, the captured pet has the same amenities hole was generously afforded: access to clean drinking water, oversized coffee can with lid, and toilet paper. But, the lack of answers and food have, according to plan, kept it on frightful edge.
A stream of animated but unintelligible Japanese is flowing out of the frantic inu at the moment, despite my demonic appearance before her and hole's outrageously exhibitionistic leather slave harness that fully showcases her enviable charms.
Ignoring the blabber, because I have no idea what the fuck it's saying, I turn to my original fucktoy and relish her intriguing facial expressions. "This is inu, hole... a new doggy slave that belongs to you now. What do you think?"
hole is trembling, and her breaths have come at a faster pace ever since we entered the room. "Master?" she asks with a troubled look, still staring straight ahead at the cage's unknown occupant.
"Yes, my good girl?" I reach down and stroke her hair.
"this hole doesn't understand, Master. wha... why... what does Master mean she belongs to this hole?"
"It, hole... "it" belongs to you. You will train it to behave like a loyal doggy slave, obey basic commands, and teach it the sexual skills it will need to please others. There are specific rules you must follow in regards to inu's training, though."
I reach into a fold of my robe and produce a laminated card that displays a typed list of words, handing it down to my beautiful slave. "First, you will never utter a single word to inu that is not present on that list. As you can hear, it doesn't speak English, and we are going to keep it that way. As an animal, it won't have use for words anyhow. Do you understand?"
"yes, Master," she nods her pony-tailed head, but keeps her perfect posture as she peruses the card in hand. After gulping a swallow of consternation, eyes raised again to the very familiar cage, hole appears to have burgeoning tears threatening to spill over.
"There, there, babydoll," I say soothingly. "You remember how things were when you first came to live here? And, now just think how proud Master is of you and how happy you are to serve as a pleasure slave."
With a tense half-smile, still fighting back tears, hole replies, "yes, Master, thank you, Master."
"That's better," I gently coax her head over to rest against my shrouded thigh. Looking up again, I regard our new puppy-cunt, seeing its dark, silky hair matted wildly in places against its skin.
"I tire of this shrill gibberish," I complain after a moment. Delving into another pocket, I produce a small remote-control device with a single trigger button and a dial with ten settings. Lowering it to level one, I pass the object down to hole.
"You haven't been in your cage for quite some time, hole, but that wasn't just because there has been a new occupant to accommodate. I've actually made a few modifications to the cage since you last visited, and this is one of them."
hole studies the device, turning it over in her palm, her other hand still grasping the plastic card tightly.
"The steel collar around inu's neck now has the ability to shock it at the level selected on the dial. You have ten minutes, hole, to teach it to stop yammering like that. Also, to "speak" with a light, feminine bark, to "roll over" with limp wrists and ankles held in the air, and to "wag" its naked, little ass. You may choose whatever power setting you feel appropriate, and you may shock it as often as you like. This is your pet, hole. Probably, the best approach will be for you to demonstrate the action you want performed, because you are only allowed to use the words on that card. Does my slave understand?"
Seemingly dazed and still unsure, she nevertheless nods, "yes, Master."
"Movement protocols are temporarily lifted, hole, so you may roam freely around the cage, but stay inside the ring of lights. I will step away and let you begin, but your task WILL be accomplished before ten minutes have passed. The lightboard on top of the cage will start counting down momentarily."
Departing, I am anxious to sit at my console and watch inu's first training exercise with hole unfold.
The frightened bitch gripping the iron bars increases its attempts at communication as soon as I am out of sight. It must be thinking that another female, even one dressed like a fetish whore, will surely come to its aid.
Standing now, hole tentatively approaches the cage. She bites her lower lip and glances at the card. "Quiet!" she says after a while, but without resolve.
"prease haarp, prease," inu attempts, switching to English. The words are obviously unfamiliar, and inu's gossamer eyebrows are furrowed with the effort of its alien beseechment.
hole squeezes her eyes shut, clearly unprepared for this task, and turns her head away. All of a sudden, she faces forward again and screams "QUIET!" jabbing the button on the remote, and extending it forward towards the cage like a sharp sword.
inu flinches as the mild gnat-sting reaches its neck. Its hands fly to its throat. "prease harp," it soon begins again, now more desperate. "i want go, prease," it begs. Its straight strands of dark hair hang past its shoulders, and almost brush its unexpectedly prominent nipples.
As I let my mind wander, I speculate that those pleasantly surprising eraser tips of flesh will be constantly amusing gateways into the bitch's highly impressionable nervous system. But, not wanting to miss a single second, I quickly refocus on the show at hand.
Looking around, seemingly at a loss, and becoming more and more frustrated, hole squats down in front of inu. Luckily not too closely, because the collared bitch extends its hands through the thick bars in wide-eyed pleading toward its potential savior.
hole is staring back at the only other person she's seen in real life for years, but she calmly lifts her left hand to cover her own mouth in demonstration. She exaggeratedly pushes the button right in front of inu's face, causing it to recoil again and jump where it still squats.
This seems to do the trick as the asian bitch's words trail off, and in my mind, I laud hole's cleverness at being able to keep the dial on its lowest setting so far. I laugh, wondering how long that will last.
hole nods her head emphatically and half-smiles at inu's puzzled silence. It becomes even more puzzled as hole glances at the timer, sees only eight minutes remaining, and then says, "speak!" followed by a playful "arp!"
The caged female just stares imploringly at hole. "i want go," it says with a profoundly heartsick frown.
hole shakes her head and turns the dial, but I am unable to see the new level chosen. "Quiet!"
inu's eyes abruptly screw shut, and its petite shoulders try to jump past its head as the voltage surges. It yelps in pain, tugging with its hands at the heavy, fitted collar closely ringing its slight neck. It is able to maintain itself on its squatting feet, but fearful keening is now the only sound it's making.
I reach up to trigger the Public Address speakers that will transmit my voice into the room. "hole, say your new pet's name, "inu", along with each command so the poor doggy can grow accustomed to it."
Smirking, I ponder that I didn't tell hole what "inu" actually means, and I take pleasure knowing that the little dehumanized japanese cunt will hear itself being called "dog" in the only words it ever hears of its native language from now on.
"inu," hole begins again, "speak, arp!"
The caged prisoner's face registers a definite change hearing the new word, and after a moment it meekly sits back on its rear. It grabs its thin legs tightly and allows its unkempt hair to fan across its face and knees as it rocks inconsolably back and forth.
hole tries again, "inu, speak... arp!"
No change.
"come on, please, just do it," hole whines.
Activating the PA again, I ask, "Are those words anywhere on the card, hole?"
Her head reflexively faces downward again at the sound of my voice. "no, Master, this hole is sorry, Master."
"Well, you get to sleep in the lockbox tonight, cunt, instead of Master's bed. Now, you have five minutes left before things get even worse."
"yes, Master, thank you, Master. inu, SPEAK! arp!" she hurls the words at the girl still ignoring her.
No response, except continued muted sniffling from within the cage.
Another turn of the dial by hole has my rapt attention on the high-definition widescreens in front of Me. Not to mention on the throbbing cock now filling my obliging palm.
ZAP!
inu emits an agonized scream and crumples on its side to the floor, neck-chain clinking on the way down. It curls into a fetal ball and twitches as it absorbs the elevated jolt inside its coldly illuminated and austere cage.
"inu," hole calls with ringing authority this time, "SPEAK! arp!" she shouts.
On its side, muscles still drawn, fright palpably visible on its scrunching face, the doggy-slut attempts a feeble "arp!" at last.
The ignorant, little bitch must have finally put its new name and the barking sound together in its thoughts, I muse. I absently wonder what's going through the puppy's mind right now. Is it starting to realize what its new role in this place will be?
I adore the fact that inu will comprehend even less about its degrading, bewildering situation than hole ever did in its parallel place. The oriental animal with the undoubtedly tight, fuckable holes will simply assume its role in our bizarre family, and it will have no understanding of why, thanks to the permanent language barrier. It will respond obediently in the future to our basic repertoire of commands, or it will suffer in creative ways it never before imagined.
"speak, inu," hole tests without providing the example this time. She raises the remote control in warning, lifting her eyebrows.
"arp!" sounds once more from the doggy-slut, and hole lowers the device in tacit approval. However, she seems to panic when she spots the glowing countdown with only a minute and a half remaining.
"roll over, inu," she blurts, shifting herself on her back with wrists folded downward and legs bent into the air. "ROLL OVER, inu!" she yells.
The foreign captive merely shakes its head in confusion, or maybe denial, as it lays weakly on its side.
ZAP!
More debilitating pain shoots with lightning speed through the internally insulated chain and directly into inu's defenseless neck. Its nude, twiggy body writhes in affliction, its nerves on fire and unable to prevent the invisible intrusion.
hole remains in the same dog-trick position. "inu, ROLL OVER!" she nods her head vigorously, anxiously trying to beat the clock and persuade her novice trainee. hole's worried eyes bounce back and forth between the top of the cage and down to inu, knowing she has yet another command to impart after this one.
inu, after finally understanding or finally deciding to comply to avoid further agony, flops itself to its back and imitates the action. The relief is palpable in hole's expression, and inu must be aware of this as it searches her face.
With only 30 seconds to spare, hole whirls her body to pose on all fours just a few feet from the cage. "inu, WAG!" she almost begs. She gives her own firm ass an energetic wiggle.
inu, still on its back, allows its arms and legs to descend from the "roll over position", but it then remains lying apathetically on the floor of the cage. Its focused eyes, however, seem to stare daggers into those of the woman who continues to torture and humiliate it so.
I've seen it before. I saw the look on hole's face several times in the beginning of our budding relationship. It's the sign of a slave digging its heels in and deciding to try to withstand whatever is thrown at it next, rather than provide you the satisfaction of seeing it obey.
At ten seconds left, hole lifts the shockbox into the air, and I watch inu in suspenseful anticipation, wondering which level the doggy-cunt will receive this time.
Nothing though... no reaction.
hole allows her hand to fall to the ground, and she slowly maneuvers her body into the required kneeling position to await her Master and his judgment.
As I re-enter the cage chamber, with its ring of floodlights shining down on my pair of marionette possessions, I approach hole without speaking. I reach down and pluck the remote roughly out of her hand.
It seems that she never set it above level five. "What a softy," I chortle inside.
Turning to inu, I increase the shock factor by a single notch, and I command, "WAG, inu!" in my baritone voice.
No movement inside the cage.
ZAP!
"WAG, inu!" I repeat after its body has eventually contained its hysterical paroxysms once more.
Still no compliance.
At level seven now... ZAP!
More education for my new doggy-bitch, and its piercing, high-pitched wails show the proof.
"WAG, inu!" I intone again after mere seconds.
hole has been watching with lifted eyes the whole time, and I see her close them finally in defeat as inu unsteadily manages to rise to all fours and performs a beautiful wag just the way hole showed it how.
inu's whole body is trembling, but the way that lean ass is gyrating, wagging like an excited puppy-whore makes Me want to stuff my rigid pole up her puckered, no-doubt virgin asshole without delay.
"You failed in your task, hole. So, not only will you spend the night in the box for disobeying orders, but the internal temperature will be raised to a cozy 85 degrees, and you can sweat out whatever toxins are causing you to behave like a deaf fucking moron."
hole takes her harsh sentencing quietly and stoically with head bowed.
"You are going to be responsible for showing this asiatic bitch its new place in our happy home, hole. It needs to learn many new skills, and some of its teachings will focus on how to bring pleasure to a human female. If you're a good girl, you will be permitted to take advantage of its presence here."
"Now, go in the supply room," I continue, "and bring back the silver dog bowl and some dry kibble. inu hasn't eaten in days, and the frightened puppy must be starving."
I decide inu has had enough introduction for the time being. But, my stiff boner is not going to be satisfied simply to deflate of its own accord. Instead, I think I will use a few of hole's namesake orifices to relieve my cravings, before I lock her in her cramped box for many sweltering, contemplative hours.
After all, tomorrow will be another momentous day for my pair of playtoys. I just have to decide when I want the lesbian games between them to commence. And, should it be a loving, tender moment for their very first time together? Or, do I prefer to implement one of my more perverted mind-fucking scenarios to further assault their emotions as they manipulate and toy with each other's lovely bodies?
Alas... the burden of ownership is that all the difficult decisions must constantly fall to Me.
End of part 5
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I welcome remarks about my stories, either appreciative or critical. All comments received, now and in the future, inspire me to continue to write.
Truly yours,
CainePaine
CainePaine@gmail.com
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