Chapter 2

To Susan Anthony’s utter amazement, not only did Jeff come around the car to open the door for her, he actually helped her out. Moreover, he held her tightly in his arms when she was on her feet because he could tell that she was still physically reeling from the series of emotional and physical shocks. When he saw that her eyes were clear, he released her but extended his arm. Her eyes widened but she took his arm as she’d been taught to do at school.

Jeff led her to an elevator that they took up to the lobby floor of the building. There, instead of taking one of the main elevators, he guided her around a corner to a private one. After activating an electronic key in his pocket, the elevator doors slid open smoothly revealing the most beautiful elevator car Susan could imagine. It was paneled in beautifully polished furniture-grade cherry. There was a large mirror in the back of the car and even a leather-upholstered bench that ran across its width. Continuing the surprises, Collins seated her on the bench, pressed the single button and then sat down beside her. As the car rose silently and smoothly, Jeffrey reached for her right hand. When she extended it, he took it in his large one and just examined it.

This girl is almost beyond belief, Jeff Collins thought. Her hand is so beautifully shaped. It’s very slim with long, very graceful fingers. Then to his surprise as well as hers, he lifted it to his lips and tenderly kissed the back of her fingers.

“Why did you do that, Master?” she asked softly. “I’m only a slave.”

All Jeff Collins could do was shake his head. He had no idea at all. The elevator car came to a very smooth stop and the doors opened smoothly obviating the need for any answer. Again, though, he extended his hand to help her to her feet. Stepping out, Susan found herself in a small hallway that was essentially an extension of the elevator car. It was paneled and furnished in an identical fashion.

As he reached for his keys and opened the apartment door, Susan looked at him carefully. He had hair somewhat darker than her own, on the brown side of gold. He also had blue eyes, but his were piercing and normally cold rather than very warm the way hers usually were. Jeffrey was very large, being over six feet three. Susan guessed he would weigh more than 225. While her complexion was now very pale — she had not been outdoors since returning from England — Jeff was very tanned. At least all of his body that she could see was tanned. He’s very trim with wonderfully broad shoulders and a very narrow waist. His age is ... Wait! I was going to estimate mid-thirties, but he appears younger — possibly mid-twenties. But if he’s that young, where did all of his money come from?

“Do you approve?” Jeff asked quietly.

Susan jumped in surprise. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said dropping her eyes. “I should not have been staring at you like that.” Then Susan stood up as straight as she could and said, “It’s not a slave’s position to approve or disapprove, Mr. Collins. Since my parents have sold me to you and made me your slave, I shall try to be the best slave I can be.” He saw tears form in the corners of her eyes as she continued, “Unfortunately, sir, I don’t know anything about being a slave. I’m afraid that it will be necessary for you to train me in my duties.”

While they were talking Collins had led the way out to the kitchen. When Susan saw it, she let out an involuntary gasp of joy. It was the most magnificently equipped kitchen she could possibly imagine. “Oh, Mr. Collins, this kitchen is magnificent!” Then to Jeff’s utter amazement she quipped, “But on the other hand now there’s no possible excuse for me ever serving anything other than magnificent meals.”

Again Collins was astonished by the girl’s reaction. He smiled warmly and said, “Slave Susan, we may get along very well after all. But now for openers, take off all of your clothes.”

Although nothing had been said earlier, his order came as no surprise to her. Looking at her carefully, all Jeff could see was that her eyes widened for an instant. Then she unbuttoned her blouse and hung it over the back of a kitchen chair. “You don’t have to be careful with anything now, Slave,” Jeff said. “All of the things you’re wearing tonight are going to be thrown out.”

The girl just swallowed hard at the news. She released the waistband of her skirt and let it drop to the floor. Since her pants had long since disappeared, her dense patch of curly golden pubic hair was now fully revealed. Because she had been in her bedroom when her parents had summoned her — could it have been less than an hour earlier? — she was wearing no stockings. As quickly as she could she unfastened the catch of her bra, shrugged it over her shoulders and let it drop to the floor.

Jeff could see the poor girl’s hands fluttering nervously and yet, in spite of her obvious instinct to cover her breasts and loins, her hands remained at her sides. “I’m very proud of you, Slave,” he said quietly. “You’ve never been naked in the presence of a man before, have you?”

“I ... I ... I’ve never been naked in the presence of anyone,” she squeaked. “At least not since I was a small baby.” At that point she finally lost control and began to weep. Nevertheless, she still made no effort to cover herself but just stood with her head up straight while tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks.

Although her head was up straight, her eyes were closed. As a result she had no warning when Jeff’s hand slapped her hard across the face. “You may not cry or cry out without first asking permission,” he said. Then pointing to the wall he said, “Stand up straight with your back to the wall, Slave. Keep your hands at your sides, but roll your hips back. I want your shoulder blades, the tips of your shoulders, and your hips to all be touching the wall. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied quietly and immediately did as she was told.

Jeff took the opportunity to take his first good look at his acquisition. To his surprise, she was far better than he had dared hope. Since he was six feet three, he had always been more comfortable with tall girls. At five feet ten, Susan was perfect. While she maintained the position he had ordered, it was clear that her bone structure was also superb. Her golden hair and brilliant blue eyes were incredible. Clearly, this girl could be a remarkable beauty. “Susan, the first thing for you to do is to lose some weight — a lot of weight — and get in shape. Your ass is much too big and flabby.”

Hearing the criticism, Susan mentally winced. But why should I care? she asked herself. I’m only a slave girl, after all. Why should I care if I have a fat and flabby ass? Susan mentally answered her own question, Because, you dunce, you’re in the presence of a very handsome man and you don’t want him to think you’re a fat slob! Even if that’s exactly what you are!

“Slave, there are a few more rules for you to obey. First, you are never to cover yourself. I was pleased to see that you remembered that rule from the drive home. You are always to be available to me. Your body exists solely for my pleasure. In that connection, I never want to see your legs together if you can possibly avoid it.” As soon as he spoke she moved her feet apart to open her crotch as much as her posture would permit. “When I wish to inspect you or some part of your body, you’re to make it available to me instantly. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” she replied softly. “Would you like to inspect my unworthy body now, sir?”

Jeff took her right breast in his hand and squeezed it roughly. Then he pinched its nipple hard between his thumb and forefinger. In spite of his prior warning, Susan squealed in pain. An instant later his hand slapped back and forth across her face. “I told you, Slave, that you may not scream without first asking permission. Is that not an easy order for you to understand?”

Tears flowed down her cheeks but she didn’t make another sound. While he was handling her breasts as roughly as possible, he also noticed how beautifully shaped they were, in spite of being too big with fat. Her nipples were tiny pink buds that were tip-tilted up toward his face.

“Pick up your clothing, Slave,” he ordered.

Instantly Susan did what he told her. Then she followed him to the corner of the kitchen where there was a spring-loaded door in the wall. A small label above it identified it as the incinerator. Jeff opened the door and motioned with his hand. Susan had previously rolled her clothing into a ball. Now she just slid them down the chute. When the door closed she realized that she now had no clothes of any kind. Before the idea could even fully sink in, Jeff said, “Slave, go back to where you were and face the wall. I wish to continue my inspection.

This time when he squeezed her asscheeks as hard as he could, Susan didn’t make a sound. Incredibly, though, when he did it she felt a wonderful melting sensation deep in her body. She found his touch to be thrilling. Even when he told her to turn, bend over and put her hands on her knees she did it. With her legs spread wide, she realized that she was open to him.

She was afraid that even her tiny asshole was fully exposed. Although it had not been when she first feared it, Jeff used his fingers to spread her asscheeks. She gasped when she felt his finger probe into her bottom. This time when she stood up again, Jeff’s hand slapped back and forth across her face three times.

“I’m sorry, Master,” she said quietly. I’ll try to be a better slave.”

Jeff Collins proceeded to give Susan a tour of his apartment. She learned that it was the penthouse on the fortieth floor of an apartment structure on New York’s upper East Side. In spite of the building occupying an entire city block, the penthouse occupied the whole roof. In addition to the penthouse structure, Susan found that there was a quarter-mile track, a fifty-meter swimming pool, and a sauna.

They went out on the roof from a fully-equipped exercise room. Right outside the door was a post nearly as big in diameter as a telephone pole, but only seven feet high. Surrounding the post was a gravel bed. “What’s this, Master?” she asked quietly. Jeff found he could listen to this girl talk forever. Her voice was so musical and at the same time so soothing to listen to.

“It’s a whipping post, Slave. And I suppose there’s no time like the present to break it in. Please come with me.” Susan followed him back into the exercise room and over to a wall cabinet. When he opened it a whole array of whips and bondage devices was revealed. “Susan, select a nice whip, please, for your initiation,” Jeff told her. He wondered what she would do.

To his utter amazement Susan went to the cabinet and proceeded to carefully inspect his entire collection. He was shocked when she said, “Sir, these instruments need a great deal of work before they will be fully effective.” Presenting him with one of the biggest whips — a full-sized bullwhip — she said, “But I think this will be adequate.”

‘Would you like a restraint, Susan?” Jeff asked. “You’re not permitted to move, you know.”

“It will not be necessary, sir,” she replied and this time led the way out to the whipping post. Turning to him he could see that there were tears at the corners of her eyes but that was all. “How many strokes will you administer, sir? When he told her ten she continued, “Will you divide them, please, between my back and my chest?”

At this request, Jeff was struck dumb. He couldn’t say a word. Susan went to the post, wrapped her arms around it and just hugged it tightly. He was utterly stunned when she said, “Oh, Master! This is so much nicer than the one at school. This is so nice and polished while the one at school was very old and rough and covered with splinters. This is just so neat!”

Jeff let the whip unroll on the ground, and then cracked it across her back. Again her reaction astonished him. She turned her head so she could just manage to see the corner of her back. Then she ran her hand over it and just shook her head. Leaving the whipping post she went back to Jeff, took the whip from him and said, “Master, that will never do. Your stroke didn’t even break my skin. And, sir, you were using far too much wrist — you could sprain it that way. You must use a full arm swing and let the tip of the whip wrap around my body a bit. Then, when the tip is caressing my body you yank back quickly on the handle. That’s what leaves the very best bloody stripes. May I show you, Master?”

Utterly dumfounded, he gave Susan the whip. She coiled it quickly and expertly, let it unroll and then cracked it against the post. As she had described, she let the tip wrap around the post and then she jerked it back. Jeff swallowed hard when he saw that the whip had left a light-colored mark on the post where it had stripped off the finish. With that Susan went back to the post and took her position.

This time Jeff followed her instructions exactly. He allowed the tip to wrap around her ribs and then yanked back on its handle. Had she not been holding the post tightly she would have been dumped on the ground.

Again she left the post and came over to him. “Isn’t this so much better, Master?” she asked. Reaching around behind her back she ran her fingers over the cut and found it was bleeding freely for its entire length. “Sir, it felt exactly like a white-hot wire cutting into my body. Now that’s the way discipline should be administered!”

Then she dropped to her knees, took his hand in hers, kissed it and said, “Thank you, dear Master, for trying to make me a better slave.” Jeff was just slowly shaking his head as she again returned to her position at the whipping post. Four more times the whip cracked. Two strokes were across her shoulders, one was across her back while the last two inflicted deep cuts on her buttocks. Jeff was beside himself because after every stroke Susan thanked him for trying to make her a better slave.

After the fifth stroke, Susan turned around and wrapped her arms behind her to hug the post behind her back. When she hugged, it caused her breasts to stand out from her chest. This time she turned her head away from the whip to try to avoid being struck in the face. Two strokes opened deep cuts in her breasts, one crossed her belly, while the last two were on her hips and loins. When he finished, Jeff realized that he was close to tears himself. But Susan came to him, dropped to her knees, picked up the end of the whip and kissed its blood-soaked tip. “Thank you, dear Master, for helping to make me a better slave.”

Jeff was almost beside himself. He had thought to terrify the young girl to get her to cooperate with his scheme. But instead she was taking charge of her own punishment. While she was still on her knees he looked down at her and almost became ill. Blood was flowing freely down her entire body. Her whole torso was now red with her blood.

“Why did you do this, Susan?” he asked. He even forgot to call her “Slave”.

“Do what, Master?” she asked genuinely puzzled by his question.

“Why did you give me lessons in how to whip you,” he replied. “You said yourself that the first time I didn’t even cut your skin.”

“But, Master, it’s a slave’s duty to assist her master in every way possible. Since I’m now your slave, I, of course, want to become the finest slave I possibly can be.” Then he noticed that tears were flowing freely from her eyes but, following his previous orders, she did nothing at all to control them.

“But why are you crying then, Susan?” he asked gently.

“Because ... Because I always hoped and prayed I would someday find a man who would love me and cherish me ... A man who would take my virginity and then train my body to respond to his every wish and whim. I would love him, cherish him, nurture him ... And ... And ... and then maybe someday God would bless our marriage and allow my belly to swell as my husband’s child grew inside me. Then I would love it and nurse it and nurture it...”

By now Susan’s head had sagged downward and she was looking down at the ground. But then with a quick move she knelt up straight, raised her head and looked right into Jeff’s eyes. “But since that can no longer be, Master. Instead I will try to be the very finest slave in the whole world. I’ll try very hard, Master, to make you proud of me by serving you in every possible way as your body slave.”

It was all Jeff Collins could do to keep from breaking down in tears. What Susan had said was, in fact, exactly what he was intending to do. After having dated for more than ten years — he was only twenty-six years old — he had decided that the only girls with whom he ever had social contact were self-centered, spoiled, man-hating pigs.

The fact was, he admitted to himself, having been born to great wealth and then having made a number of brilliant investments, making money was both too easy for him and not even necessary. Since his net worth was denominated in billions of dollars, if he just converted his wealth to currency — even in large-denomination bills, it would fill a railcar — he couldn’t possibly spend it in his lifetime. Moreover, because of his vast wealth he could indulge his whims, and that was what he was in the process of doing. But it wasn’t working out the way he had expected.

He reached down to the kneeling girl. Susan looked up at Jeff’s face and was astonished. Although she could be mistaken there almost appeared to be tears in the corners of his eyes. When she extended her hands and took his, she was amazed at the gentle way he helped her to her feet.

“What’s wrong, Master?” she asked. “Did I do something to upset you?”

“Yes, you did...”

Before he could say another word Susan picked up the whip from the ground where he had dropped it, put it back in his hand and returned to the whipping post. “Ten more lashes across my chest, please, Master,” she said. “I’m very sorry, beloved master. I’ll try ever so hard never to upset you again.”

Jeff dropped the whip like a hot potato, went to the whipping post, and, ignoring the cuts and the blood still dripping from all of them, scooped her up in his arms. Acting purely by instinct, Susan wrapped her arms around his neck as he quickly carried her back into the house. This time he entered a different door, one that took them into a huge shower room. In spite of her weight, he carried her as if she were weightless.

For her part, although the pressure on the whip cuts was agonizing, that was nothing compared to her embarrassment at being so ungainly. After setting her down gently on a bench, he proceeded to strip off all of his clothes. When he dropped his shorts, Susan’s eyes widened as she saw his semi-erect penis. Jeff had not said a word. Now he turned on a series of faucets. Suddenly it was as if three walls of the room were showering water. Susan had never seen anything like it. Jeff came over to where she was still sitting and extended his hands. She followed him into the water.

In spite of the open cuts, the warm water streaming over her bleeding body felt heavenly. When Jeff lightly ran his fingers over her body to try to wash off the congealed blood, his fingers felt so gentle. “Can you kneel, Susan?” he asked softly.

“Of course, Master,” she replied instantly, dropping to her knees. There was an expression of dismay on her face when she responded.

Now Susan was on her knees looking up at him with the water soaking her golden hair. Jeff noted that all it did was show a more pronounced wave. Kneeling, her face was almost level with his penis. “Master, is this the male sex organ?” she asked pointing to it. She was so impressed she could only point.

“Yes, Slave, it is,” he replied. “You may touch it, if you wish. Would you like to?”

“Would my master like me to?” she countered.

Having retrieved a bottle of shampoo, Jeff had poured some on her hair. It was a new experience for him. Although he shampooed his own hair several times a week in the shower, it was cropped quite short — almost a semi-crew cut — so the whole process only took a minute or two. In contrast he found that Susan’s hair was very long, very full, and very dense. “While I work on your hair, Slave, why don’t you try out my cock for taste. Suck it. Do you know how?”

“No, sir,” she replied softly. “But I assume I’m to take this beautiful thing into my mouth.” Then cradling his scrotum with its pair of very large balls in both hands she asked, “Do I take this in, too?”