Chapter 8

Over the next few weeks '7' learned a lot. Her submission grew, as did the bond between us, day by day, lesson by lesson, my girl eagerly accepted each new experience, the pleasure and the pain, until she finally embraced the pleasure of pain. My girl made new friends, her bodies own endorphins, in who's company she visited a new realm. '7' discovered sub-space for the very first time...

The day started just as the past days of training had done, but today was different. Today my girl was ready for a big step forward, but first another task. '7' sat obediently as Gore positioned her feet in the plastic forms, sitting perfectly still as he made the casts, allowed them to dry before cutting them off some six minutes later. My girl was very obviously curious as to the reason for the casts, but no explanation was given and she knew better than to ask.

The lesson that afternoon was a little different to those '7' had already learned. I led my girl across to the open part of the dungeon where a small circular mat had been placed, taking her place upon it, I had her reach up and grab hold of the short padded bar directly above her head. A quick adjustment of the winch and she could just maintain her grip with both hands whilst keeping her feet flat on the mat. "Today your only restraint is your own self control," I told my girl, "Keep both hands on the bar and both feet on the mat, no matter what." I did not need to add that any failure would be punished.

In that outstretched position my girl's body was taut, her toned body testament to the hours spent in exercise. No heavy muscles just toned flexibility and svelte beauty. I waited until her poised body relaxed, then brought the single tail around to strike across her buttocks. That first lash was the first of many, there was no rush, we had all afternoon the, evening as well, if needed.

As each lash burned it's way across her body, my girl cried out, her entire body tensing, muscles trembling under tension as she fought to control herself. The force with which I delivered those early lashes was almost gentle, certainly far less than that requited to damage my girl's skin, though the skill of placement left a dull red line to show where the single tail had been.

By now '7' had become used to intense pleasure and the mixture of pleasure and pain that enhances the sensation, until now she had never experienced pain alone. No brief caresses, no deft fingers to arouse her, just the sting of the single tail. I knew it would take a while for her body to react, for her mind to surrender to the sensations, to stop fighting the pain and embrace it. Each tightly controlled lash of the single tail took her just a little closer, closer to surrender, closer to nirvana.

My girl's breathing changed, a subtle slowing, a more relaxed posture, then something in her eyes changed and I knew. The eight fast sharp strokes of the crop took her over the edge and deep into sub-space, her screams almost an afterthought, her body relaxing into the agony of pure ecstasy. '7' was riding the wave of endorphins that flooded her body, eyes dancing yet out of focus, my girl had taken the pain, fought her instinct to flee, held her position, proved her submission and now rode the natural high.

Gore and '3' returned my girl to the cell, washed her sweat soaked body now criss-crossed with whip marks, anointed each angry red line with soothing cream and finally put her to bed.

Sub-space is caused by the body over producing endorphins. Stress and pain are the two most common factors that cause their production. Endorphins interact with the opiate receptors in the brain to reduce the perception of pain, their effect is similar to both morphine and codeine. But with one major difference, activation of the opiate receptors by the body's endorphins does not lead to addiction or dependence. The euphoria experienced whilst in sub-space can result in depression if proper aftercare is not given. Every high is followed by a matching low, as the body tries to rebalance itself.

When '7' woke the next morning, she would remember three things; How amazing sub-space is and how enjoyable the hugs and cuddles and kisses of aftercare can be. The third might be the most memorable, for my girl awoke in my arms.

I think I've changed a lot during the past weeks. I'm more grounded now, resting within myself, sort of. Well, maybe those are the wrong words but they're the best I can find. I had a lot of time to think about myself, my past, my present, but not my future, because I know that my future is not in my hands so I don't waste too much of my time thinking about it.

What has changed most though is the relationship between my Mistress and me. Of course she's the Mistress, I'm her slave, nothing has changed about that, quite to the contrary. If anything, it's even more like that than ever before. But there's something else too, a deep trust from my side, almost like a child trusts her mother to keep her from harm and to want the best for her. However, I wouldn't go as far as saying I'm loving her unconditionally. Not yet, but maybe that will change too. Stranger things have happened to me, with me, in the past weeks.

I have also learned that pain isn't just bad. Some of my most intense experiences are closely connected with tremendous pain. Those experiences haven't always been nice, but they never broke me, and to know how much I can stand gives me a lot of self-confidence. I suspect that one day I'll need that, but am still surprised when the moment comes.

It seems easy enough as I stand on the mat, gripping the bar above my head. But easy quickly turns to frightening when I see the whip in Mistress' hand. It's that long, coiling whip I have seen once before, when she used it on that mannequin. I've seen what it can do and to know that today I'll be the target is scaring the shit out of me, frankly said.

"Today your only restraint is your own self control." The words reverberate inside my head as I watch her walk a couple of feet and raise the hand holding the whip. I feel the fear rise inside me, my hands cramp around the bar for a minute. But then I realize that Mistress wouldn't put me through this if she didn't think I have the strength do it. I must trust her, and I must trust myself.

The first lash hits me just as I exhale and relax my muscles. It hurts, not too much, but I know that this is only the beginning, Mistress will not stop before whatever she wants to happen has happened.

That turns out to be right. Soon I begin to scream and cry as the whip falls on every part of my body. I've learned that screaming and crying helps to deal with the pain. In the beginning of my training I thought I needed to remain silent as long as possible, biting my lips or clenching my teeth, now I let it out. If I'm not gagged, of course. Today I'm not and after a while I feel my voice getting hoarse. The pain is excruciating as again and again the whip wraps itself around my body, leaving welts wherever it lands.

But then two things happen. First, I stop fighting against the pain, letting myself fall into it. I don't really know how I do it. No, that's wrong too, I don't actively do anything, I just don't fight falling. The pain becomes a little bit more bearable now.

Soon after I feel something else, a bit like the high after a line of coke. The pain recedes slowly and instead I feel an intense warmth flowing through my body and I relax again, feel my breathing getting calmer, but only for a short moment, for then a quick succession of lashes sends me to a place I've never been before. It's a place of sensations and emotions, no thoughts anymore, my brain switches off, I don't even know anymore whether I'm still standing, holding unto the bar or whether I'm lying on the floor in a writhing heap.

I do know that I'm lying in bed when I wake up, and I do know that I'm not alone, that there are arms around me. But it takes me a moment to realize that it is not '3' who's cradling me in her arms, but my Mistress. My initial surprise is quickly replaced by a tremendous joy and then I'm simply overwhelmed by all my emotions and I cry for a long time, my face buried in the crook of her neck, her hands gently caressing me, her soft voice soothing until I stop crying.

I wished this moment would never end as I whisper "thank you, Mistress. Thank you very much for everything."

Then I move back a little bit to look into her eyes. I don't know if what I say next is appropriate, but there is nothing I would like to do more. "With your permission I would like to properly thank you, Mistress."

"With your permission I would like to properly thank you, Mistress." Those words from my girl's lips were almost reward enough, but the look in her eyes, their invitation to view her soul deep within them, that was a reward indeed.

I had chosen well, '7' was proving to be all I desired and so much more. Money can make abducting a beautiful girl possible, skill can keep and force her to comply, but such false service is worthless. To take a girl with such spirit, train her, show her another life and have her embrace it, that is another matter. A freely offered submission is a treasure beyond price, in time '7' would make her choice, right now her soul had answered in a single look, an intimate invitation that came unbidden from her sweet lips.

"Indeed you may properly thank me," my reply turned trepidation to desire, my girl poised, eager to please. "But not now," I paused as '3' entered, carrying a tray laden with breakfast. My girl's look of disappointment faded as quickly as it had appeared. "Good morning '3' my sweet, you may serve me here, and join us." In moments '3' had placed the tray upon the bed, the folding legs supporting it to bridge my thighs. '7' took her cue from '3' and soon both girls were kneeling either side of me, both displaying their perfect posture together with their charms.

To sit up in bed, flanked by two such beautiful slaves, to feed them in turn, sharing a meal made intimate in so many ways, such pleasures are moments to be treasured. Both girls already knew each other intimately, and that just heightened the pleasure. Of course certain foods beg to be used to tease, like the strawberry that I used to spread '3's' already parted sex, rubbing it across her clit before guiding it lower, twisting my hand so that my thumb pressed it inside her warm wetness. A finger slide into her slipperiness allowed me to hook it out, suspended from my finger and thumb as I lifted it to '7's' lips. My girl's tongue licking her sister slaves juices from my fingers even as the ripe strawberry burst between her small white teeth, the perfect mixture of breakfast juice. There was no shortage of fruit upon the tray.

After breakfast the girls left to obey their instructions, '3' returning the breakfast tray to the kitchen, '7' returning to the cell to shower before both met for their morning exercise routine. After a second shower, each teasing the other almost to distraction, '3' anointed my girl's body with the soothing cream, tending to the welts and still angry red marks. Just as I had done, '3' checked to ensure that none had broken the skin. Afterwards, '3' Left the dungeon to attend to her duties, leaving '7' to clean and care for the dungeon, including the mat and the single tail that she had suffered the previous day. Only when '3' arrived bearing their lunch did '7' stop cleaning and dusting. The girls spent their half hour break sitting cross legged upon the bed, knees touching, fingers entwined as they talked and laughed.

The afternoon lesson started late. Their break over, '3' had led my girl out of the dungeon to a side room that was part treatment room, part first aid post. There they were joined by my private doctor and our regular beautician. Both had earned my trust in their discretion. Although my girl had been tested from samples taken the day of the interview, both were tested again, as were the rest of the staff, including myself. Safety is paramount.

Once '7''s' examination was complete and the required samples taken, she passed into the hands of the beautician. Of course my girl was not consulted, only my wishes mattered and the beautician followed my instructions precisely. I watched the screen carefully, some secrets are hidden without thought, like '7's' love of her hair, her face, her eyes, her entire body broadcast the hatred when the beautician took up the scissors...

Waxed and shorn, filed and clipped, primped and perfect, '7' waited patiently whilst '3' was attended to, only then did the two girls return to the dungeon and an afternoon of training. Poise and grace are in my opinion both basic skills and pleasing attributes for any slave. The regular exercise, toning and stretching were not sufficient to produce the required standard alone, training polished each movement, the gliding walk, the seemingly effortlessly fluid transition from standing to kneeling, kneeling to standing. Each position was practised, perfection takes time and commitment, both girls performed with unconscious precision. Finally, both glistening with a fine sheen of perspiration, I dismissed '3' and moving to stand besides a nearby chaise longue, I turned to address my girl. "You may undress me, and then I believe you wanted to thank me properly..."

By the time breakfast was finished I was dripping wet and horny, it had been so sensual, intimate and erotic. I cherished the company of '3' and it made me very proud to be allowed to kneel on the bed together with her, one of us on either side of our Mistress. So I was fed the juiciest strawberries I've ever tasted, sweet as honey, and it was pure bliss.

However, during the whole time my mind kept wandering to her answer to my plea and every time I thought of pleasing my Mistress I got both aroused even more than I had already been and also a bit nervous. I had been intimate with '3' a couple of times during the last weeks and it had always been a very nice experience, for both of us as far as I know. But still, I was quite an inexperienced virgin when it came to pleasing a woman. Would I satisfy my Mistress, or would I disappoint her? Those thoughts kept coming back the whole morning and only during the lunchbreak, which I spent talking and giggling with '3', was my mind kept busy enough so I didn't worry.

Shortly before the half hour was up, I asked her: "Three, I'm worried about pleasing Mistress. What if I'm not good enough?"

"You'll get the bullwhip, of course" she answered casually and looked into my eyes while I fought to process that information, unable to speak for the moment. Only when '3' cracked a smile and then burst out in laughter did I realize that she'd been pulling my leg. I pulled her close and kiss her to shut her up and the kiss got longer and longer and we both had a hard time to keep our hands on each other's knees.