Hey lovely readers,
This story is part of a series about the capture and training of a woman by a gentle dominant and his sadistic assistant/slave. I've tried to make each chapter a standalone, but you may want to start with the first one anyway.
As always, this is just fantasy, and very much not something you should try.
-IT
A friend and client once joked that I pick names like a demented horse trainer. I suppose it looks that way from the outside. Most trainers give their girls fairly normal names, although with a preference for the exotic and suggestive (Candy, Cherry, and the like.) But I like a name to mean something more than, "hot girl." The names I give my hobby girls (i.e. the ones I intend to keep for a while) reflect something about the personality of the slave, generally based on something that happens during training.
Take my assistant Cubby Hole ("Cubby" for short.) She's a petite girl with a dancing and gymnastics background. I acquired her almost by accident while exploring an old, abandoned building. She was an aspiring photographer at the time, and had gone to do a a shoot with a friend -- a tall, skinny tattooist and aspiring model looking for an unconventional setting to setoff her striking looks. She fought like hell at first, but I quickly discovered something about her: Cubby liked bondage. She was especially keen on confinement, and even during those first weeks, would get quite docile and horny when I had her packaged up tight. So I gave her that name, and had her friend tattoo it over her bare mound, adding a cute graphic of her tight little ass peeking out of a drawer on her lower back. It gave her a new identity based on something that we'd experienced together, which helped her form a new identity around her place in her master's household. I kept the friend around long enough to teach Cubby some basic technique, and then sold her off to some fashion designer and bondage afficionado as a living doll.
Perhaps I was pushing things this time, but to me, the name just seemed right for my new slave. After all, she'd mostly go by Rosebud, which was a pretty name. And the experience of her sudden attentive compliance as soon as I stuck my cock in her bum was a moving milestone in her training, for both of us, I think. And if I ever did sell her or give her away, the name would ensure her new owner never lost track of how to maintain the girl's devotion.
At any rate, I hadn't had a girl with such a natural aptitude for submission in quite a while, and I was eager to give her every opportunity to excel in her training. So I arranged for Cubby to give her the tattoo the next morning. When Cubby walked her up to me at breakfast, I could see that she'd progressed over night. She was still kept blind, as per my instructions, but as soon as she heard my voice, she rushed over to me, wrapping her arms around my legs and pressing her face against me.
Of course I knew this wasn't just a show of affection for me; the nervous way she'd whimper and glance blindly behind her at her mistress made it very clear that she was trying, in her limited way, to entice me to keep her to myself. But motives don't really matter at this stage. Given enough repetition, worshipping her master and appeasing her mistress would become second nature, however mercenary her apparent affection at the beginning.
The girl got restless after a moment, sniffing the air forlornly as Cubby cooked a meal of sausage, eggs and hashbrowns. "Are you hungry, girl?" I asked, stroking her head. She nodded, climbing up my legs like an over-excited dog, and began nosing my crotch through my pants. No doubt, she thought if she could entice me into accepting a blowjob, I'd have to take out the gag and, perhaps, feed her.
"Aww, good girl. Were you good for Mistress?"
She froze for a moment, then went back to nosing me even more enthusiastically. I sighed, pushing her back, and lubing up a dildo. "Turn around, Rosebud," She spun, took a deep breath, and then raised her ass in the air, wiggling it. She yelped as I pressed the dildo home. "I asked you a question, slave." Were you good for Mistress. She nodded, swallowing audibly.
"You followed all her rules, and didn't act up?"
"Mmhmm," Rosebud squeaked out, pressing her face against the floor as if she thought she could disappear into the floor. I resisted the urge to chuckle. Instead, I began to work the dildo in and out. Her ass was red from bare-hand smacking, but there were no stripes. Then again, there wouldn't be -- Cubby knew better than to damage the canvas in a slave we were about to mark.
"What do you think, Cubby? How did she behave?"
"Like a dumb, spoiled little cunt, Sir." Rosebud audibly whimpered at the description, but by Cubby's standards, it was practically praise -- Rosebud had put up some resistance and perhaps there'd been a bit of a power struggle, but no real rebellion or serious misbehavior.
I shared a smile with my assistant. "That's too bad. How much punishment has she earned?"
"I'd say a nice whipping and two hours in The Machine should do it."
"The Machine? Wow. I thought you said you were good, Rosebud."
The slave whimpered miserably. In reality, there was no piece of equipment we called "The Machine," but the name worked wonder on the imagination of a new slave.
"It's a pity," Cubby said, solemnly. "Such nice skin. I didn't want to have to, mar it so quickly. But you know, rules are rules."
"Hmm." I pulled out the dildo and knelt down behind Rosebud, stroking my cock. "What if we marked Rosebud another way?"
"You mean a tattoo? I don't know if she can sit still that long. She was pretty fidgety last night."
"What do you think, Rosebud?" I asked, sliding into her ass. "Instead of welts and scars and all that nastiness, we'll give you a pretty little tattoo right here?" I slapped her ass to demonstrate. "Just a rose and your name."
Rosebud took in a deep breath and held it, as if trying to figure out how to make a counter-proposal with her mouth glued shut and my cock up her ass. She let her breath out, sagging in defeat. "Mmm hmm."
"If it's okay with Mistress, of course," I added.
Rosebud immediately tried to sit up, begging in the style her mistress preferred. It did not work with my dick in her ass, and she grunted in pain and nearly fell on her face, but Mistress chuckled good-naturedly.
"Just this once, Rosebud."
I washed up and hooked up Rosebud's breakfast: a meal replacement shake in a bag, fed through a little valve that screwed into her gag. She huddled on the floor, sucking it down while the two of us enjoyed Cubby's home-cooked meal. I thought she looked a little better afterwards and seemed more steady on her feet, but her mood was sullen and withdrawn, and the morning enema did not improve it. It was probably starting to sink in that she wasn't getting out of this any time soon -- especially now that we were permanently marking her.
Too much time to think isn't good for a new slave, so I decided to drug her to get her mind off things. This time, I opted for a muscle relaxant and a hefty dose of hash oil in a syrup. I'd found a bit of marijuana in her bag, so I hoped my own supply would have a salutory effect on her mood. It was hard to guess what was going on inside, but by the time we finished eating and led her out of the kitchen, she seemed pretty chill and peaceful. She plodded along passively, and would pressed against me sensuously when I stroked her, her skin prickling with goosebumps.
For the massage, we had her on a special worktable, with a built-in wedge that lifted her ass up nicely and displayed both of her holes. I was contemplating starting a streaming channel for her, and made sure to set this up carefully, so it would all look consentual should I use it later. Her hands were still in the ratcheting gloves, and her feet, contained in training ballet boots with ultra-high stilettos that could be unscrewed from a threated socket under the heel..I removed the stilettos, bolted the bottoms of the boots to pedals on the sides of the tables, and ratched the gloves closed on a bar in front of her, so it looked like she were holding on, posing herself for the activity. Her head was through a massage-table style hole, her collar bolted down out of view of the cameras. I kneeded her sex while Mistress got everything ready, setting things up for the ubiquitous cameras we'd installed all over the house.
"Look how excited our little Rosebud is for her first tattoo," I said, pulling out my finger to show how wet it was. "It's not too late to pull out and play with The Machine instead. Are you sure this is what you want?"
:Mmmh," she purred, sleepily.
"Good girl. I know how horny this makes you, so we'll be sure to take breaks if you need a little extra stimulation. If you need anything, just raise a hand." She gave a rueful snort at that, jiggling her hands, but I knew that it would read as acknowledgement from the camera's perspective.
I continued to kneed her sex as Mistress traced the design onto her ass. Rosebud was surprisingly relaxed; in the few minutes it took her Mistress to trace the design, she was already breathing slowly. She must have fallen asleep, because she gave a little jump when the needle started, seemingly confused momentarily, but I stroked her head, telling her what a good girl she was, and she settled down again, and soon was stil and quiet.
