Sheri Lawson woke slowly, shivering, not from the cold but from the creepy feeling of a hand stroking the bare skin of her stomach. She was slowly getting used to this, wakening in a fog, slowly recalling her dire situation, testing her restraints to see if anything had changed. Checking to see if her blindfold had been removed, afraid of what she might see if it was.

Her muscles tensed, slowly, pulling at the wrist and ankle restraints, once more confirming she was bound and helpless. The hand brushing across her stomach was gentle as always, soft and callous free. Deceptive.

"Good morning, sleepy head. I've got another surprise for you today." The voice was sultry, feminine, with a hint of mid-western twang. All too familiar.

"Please, please, let me go," Sheri pleaded for the thousandth time.

"In good time. You know the deal. Be good. Be obedient. Be respectful. This will all be over soon if you play by my rules. If you don't, well, it'll all be over soon and I promise you, you won't like the ending." There was a steeliness to her tone that left little doubt in Sheri's mind of what the alternate ending would be.

"Yes, Mistress," Sheri said softly, cowering before the implied threat.

The hand left her belly and she trembled when it caressed her cheek, fingertips running across her lips. "Such a good girl! You are learning. Perhaps no discipline lessons will be required this morning. It would be such a disappointment to have to punish you; today's scheduled to be a fun day."

Sheri shivered involuntarily. Fun. Fun like the three days bound in restraints, spreading her limbs, stretching her far worse than the gymnastics or yoga classes she'd ground her way through in her 24 years on the planet. Fun, like learning the different types of instruments that could be used to strike her body, and having to learn each one by name and feel, thanking the Mistress for her education. Fun, like the icy cold hosing down, and stinking, stinging disinfectant she'd been bathed in. Fun, like the first two full days without sleep, while her body was subjected to a battery of insults which she learned to endure without complaint, swallowing her screams, and only moaning and crying when her spirit was thoroughly broken.

Sheri was learning to obey her captor, even anticipate her wishes. The previous day had been light compared to the earlier ones, the stinging of the welts and the ache of her joints had subsided enough to be barely noticeable. She'd like to keep it that way.

"Thank you, Mistress. I'm looking forward to your attention."

The gentle kiss on her lips was one of the most surprising things to happen to her until that moment. She'd been probed, prodded, pummeled and punished, but always in an abstract, almost asexual manner. Even during the periods when she'd had random items inserted into her most private orifices, it was less sexual, more of a humiliating intrusion. The warm kiss, with the caress of a tongue across her lips, was totally unexpected. Perhaps not totally. From the outset she'd been afraid of being used and abused sexually, but this was the first sign that her initial fears might be coming true.

She felt the cold steel of the collar snapped back in place, assuring her good behavior. Never again did she want to feel the agony that simple piece of metal could deliver. She would be docile. She would be obedient. She would not, under any circumstances, anger the Mistress.

The wrist and ankle restraints were detached from her bed and she quickly turned and sat up, sliding off the padded surface and standing ready. The Mistress was strangely kind, guiding her across the cold tile floor by touch, instead of dragging her by the collar and letting her run blindly into the hard pieces of furniture scattered about the room. Furniture she was learning to abhor.

Five days of blindness had heightened her senses. She could hear the dripping in the toilet area, the quiet footfalls of her Mistress behind her. The coolness of the linoleum under her feet. The smell of wood, of leather and of blood.

Sheri was guided to the 'bathroom' area and allowed to use the toilet. She still felt awkward and unbalanced using the pot in the dark, but her blindfold was always present and absolute. In some ways she appreciated the blindfold, convincing herself that so long as she never saw her captor's face, perhaps she would be eventually freed.

"I think you could use a thorough cleansing, child," the Mistress told her.

Sheri braced herself for the sudden jet of ice water. "Thank you, Mistress," she intoned, bowing her head.

"I want you to close your eyes tightly. I'll be removing your mask for a moment."

"Yes, Mistress. I won't open them."

The cruel chuckle sounded ominous. "I'm sure you won't if you ever hope to see daylight again. I so prefer the mask. With drugs, there's always the chance that your sight won't come back, and of course the agony of blinding makes the slave useless for days."

The mask was unbuckled from behind her head, and she felt the stickiness of the adhesive stretch as the material was pulled away. Secondary patches over each eye were slowly peeled back, then pulled off rapidly, like a band aid. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment before she squeezed them shut. The room was nearly dark, and she saw nothing but the bare concrete wall in front of her during that brief time.

Sheri felt a cool cloth rub around her eyes and temple, removing any last remnants of the adhesive. Then a new, cool blindfold was placed over her eyes, this one less padded and slick to the touch. "It's temporary, for your cleaning."

"Thank you, Mistress," Sheri replied, truly grateful. The old eye-mask had been irritating. Her sweat and tears had caked on the inside and made it rough to the touch.

Another pleasant surprise came when her ever-present wrist and ankle restraints were removed, as was that most evil of devices, the collar of pain. She rubbed her wrists where the leather bracelets had chafed her.

Sheri felt warm water cascade over her skin, and she breathed an involuntary groan of delight.

"Stay still now dear, while Mistress takes care of you. Stretch your arms out in front of you and lean forward against the wall."

"Yes, Mistress."

Sheri felt a large rough sponge, probably natural, rub against her skin. She could feel the slippery soap spread across her body; the smell was settling and calming. She stood still, her hands on the wall, her legs spread a little more than shoulder width wide. She found herself enjoying the roughness of the sponge and the warmth of the water sluicing off the soap and sweat. The Mistress scrubbed everywhere, lifting her feet to get at the soles. The sponge made its way between her legs, under her arms and across her breasts. When it rubbed her privates she tensed a bit, but those areas were treated much like the rest, thoroughly cleaned, but no more.

She was surprised at herself. The first couple of days she had argued, cursed, begged and pleaded. Her mind had run wild with the evils that would be perpetrated against her. Images of endless men using her, fucking her in teams, unable to stop them, helpless to resist. She schemed of ways to escape, and wreaking her revenge on the evil creature who held her captive. During the last couple of days many of those thoughts had retreated to the background, and she looked for ways to survive another day of pain and discomfort, dreading what she'd be subjected to next. The pain had become manageable, the discomfort something to be endured for hours on end, the brief respites to be cherished. Moments such as these, under the warm embrace of the shower, were a gift. Don't think about what may come next. Don't dwell on what had passed. Accept what was happening and endure. And don't anger the Mistress.

Never anger the Mistress.

Her long hair was grasped in the Mistress's hands, and she inhaled the floral scent of the shampoo, calming to the achingly familiar sound of the liquid being squirted out of the bottle. Fingers massaged her scalp, and thoroughly scrubbed her golden brown tresses. She had been afraid that her jailor would cut her hair, when it interfered with her punishment, but the Mistress seemed to like it the way it was, and even brushed it several times during her captivity. Her locks were rinsed for a long time, until she could hear the squeaky telltale that all traces of shampoo were gone.

The cascade of water ended, and a soft towel was used on her, drying her quickly. The towel was left across her shoulders, the only piece of material to cover her body in the last 5 days. She pulled it close and enjoyed the momentary normality.

Her hand was grasped, and something put in it. "Brush your hair now, and be thorough."

Sheri obeyed, fighting to pull the brush through new tangles, tearing at it in a few places, but after several minutes she was able to pull the brush through without trouble. She continued the brushing, reveling in the familiarity of the simple motion, happy to delay as long as possible whatever was in store for her.

"Hair is such a bother, isn't it?" the Mistress said. "That's part of your surprise for today."

Sheri trembled at the insinuation. Perhaps this was yet another tease. Would she end the morning bald? One more vicious, pointless punishment performed on her. She wasn't sure if she was meant to answer or not, so she stayed quiet, having found that being told to answer brought about far less punishment than speaking out of turn.

Sheri felt her ankle restraints reattached, and flirted with the idea of kicking out and fighting back. For once, the collar was off and she was free of all restraints. Could she do it? Did she dare?

The answer was simple enough. No. She had no idea if there was a way out of this room, or if the Mistress had that vicious taser handy. She didn't dare risk angering the Mistress. What would she do if she were really angry? Sheri shuddered at the thought. While the thoughts bounced around her brain, the wrist restraints were replaced again, and finally the steel collar was returned to her slender, sensitive neck.

"Close your eyes tightly, dear. I have a new blindfold ready for you."

Sheri felt the temporary eye-mask removed, and a new soft padded mask was placed over her eyes. It was wide and allowed no trace of light within. The edges of the mask were pressed in place and she felt the adhesive anchor the cloth at the edges.

"Come, child, we have work ahead of us."

The Mistress guided her across the room where she was encouraged to lay down on a padded table, on her back. Her mind was already working overtime, making up possible embarrassing and painful scenarios. Her wrist and ankle restraints were anchored, holding her firmly in place. Additional straps were tied around her thighs, spreading her legs obscenely open, exposing her nether opening completely.

Hands strayed over her pudenda. She felt fingers running through her coarse hair, tugging gently. "No, this will never do. I'm sorry, child, this may sting a bit."

Sheri almost choked, trying to hold back the laugh. Sting a bit? This from the woman who had blistered and bruised her back, ass, breasts and legs with canes, straps, rods, paddles and whips?

"You are so transparent, sweet thing. Yes, I'm sorry to cause you incidental pain. Disciplinary and educational pain is a completely different matter. And for this reason you may cry out if this hurts, without worry of reprisal."

Sheri could feel the tug and hear the hum of an electric razor shearing her hairs, and warm oil being applied. "Thank you, Mistress. As you wish. Thank you for your kindness." She relaxed, for once not worried that any moment may lead to a blow for a wrong, imagined or otherwise. Praying silently that the hair between her legs was all that would be shorn that morning.

The wax was warm against her skin, and she readied herself for the expected pain. Sheri felt cloth pressed against her skin, and pressure along the length of it. The Mistress pressed down on one end, and with a quick pull stripped the hair off of her. The pain was sudden and intense, and she bit back a gasp. In light of what she'd been put through two days earlier, it was almost a relief. She felt a giggle rise up, and stifled it. She thought she'd be left bare, but she could feel the Mistress slowly working around a small patch of hair left for decoration. The series of stinging pulls, yanking out large patches of hair descended into more precise applications, each one removing less and less of her natural forestation.

"That's more like it," the Mistress intoned.

The Mistress pulled her thighs open wide, painting the sides of her labia with the warm goo, her fingers pushing and pulling her flesh to the sides, exposing those hairs to the enveloping wax. A few more applications and Sheri thought she was done. The Mistress had other ideas.

She continued the applications all over again, careful and deliberate, capturing any last strays. These were nearly pain free, quick and to the point. A half-dozen more applications, none more than a quick sting, and the Mistress was applying cool lotion to her mound. The straps on her thighs were removed, and her hand and ankle restraints released.

"Not quite done yet. On your hand and knees now, raise that adorable little bottom up."

Sheri did as requested quickly taking up a position that until then had meant a bruising for her poor defenseless rear end. She'd learned to detest that position. The Mistress spread her cheeks, and she once again felt the warmth of the wax spread down the crack of her innocent ass. The soft cloth felt intrusive, pressing into her anus, down around her vagina, rough against her sensitive skin. She tensed up, and sighed when the cloth was torn away almost painlessly.

The folds and crevices required several more applications before the Mistress was satisfied with the results. Sheri's skin tingled, as if she'd been spanked. Spanked, not beaten. She had learned the difference in the last few days.

"So smooth, so pretty, so perfect," the Mistress whispered, her hand massaging more lotion down her crack. The hand lingered, rubbing her, making her squirm, ashamed that she was enjoying the soft touch. She felt her body betraying her, responding to the sensual caress. Was it just another tease before the beatings began again in earnest?

"You have a delicious ass, dear girl. So round and full, so soft." The Mistress continued fondling her, gently stroking her pussy, running a finger through her moistened opening. A finger entered her, slowly, lingering, before retreating to rub her some more.

"How does that feel, child? Be honest."

Sheri sighed. "I ... I like it, Mistress. Thank you."

"And this?" her captor asked, once more sliding a finger into her, followed by a second, reaching deep inside of her.

"Naughty. Dirty," she said.

"Yes. It is dirty. Do you like it? Would you like more?"

Sheri wanted to deny it but couldn't. "Yes, Mistress," she moaned, "more, please." Anything to delay the beatings. Please, Lord, no more beatings. The collar shock was horrible, and the tasering had been a new lesson in pain, but neither could hold a candle to the relentless beatings.

The fingers pierced her repeatedly, while the other hand reached forward and rubbed her sensitive clit. Sheri pushed back, squeezing internally, pulling on the fingers.

"You respond wonderfully. Do you have much experience?"

Sheri felt the blood rushing to her face. "I don't know, Mistress. Not much. Two lovers," she moaned while the woman continued to massage her pussy.

"But none now, no?"

She knew they'd watched her for a while, from the comments when she'd first arrived. They had no qualms discussing the capture in her presence. They knew where she went and when. They had her schedule and were aware of when she was taking off on a vacation, in order to take her when nobody would miss her for a while. Knew where she parked, grabbing her and dragging her into that damned van. The beginning of this hellish captivity. It had been five, no, six days including today. Nobody would miss her at work for at least three more days. She lived alone, and had for quite some time. No hope there.

"No mistress. There's been nobody for nearly a year now."

"Such a shame. A body like yours is a glorious temple. You should be loved, hard and often. Clearly you are not a virgin; how about oral? Do you like it? Are you good at it?"

"I don't know, Mistress." Sheri knew the answer wasn't enough. "I've never done it," she confessed, suppressing a moan.

"Giving, or receiving?"

"Neither, Mistress." The words were getting harder to say, the fingers within her body distracting her.

"Truly?" The Mistress sounded disturbed. "That is hardly acceptable. You hold back your mouth from your lovers?"

"Yes Mistress," she admitted, both embarrassed and angered at the admission.

"And this sweet ass?"

"Never, Mistress."

"A shame. Wasteful. That will change."

"Yes, Mistress," she moaned, pushing back against the fingers which continued their incessant forceful invasion. She could feel a warmth growing in her belly, a need for more. The words burned in her mind. 'That would change.' She would be used after all. How much? How badly? How often? How many?

"But you enjoy sex, don't you? Would you like to come for me, child?"

Again, she struggled to deny it, but feared the possible results. The Mistress seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to lying. "Please, Mistress. Yes."

Just don't hit me anymore, she thought.

Sheri cried out in disappointment when the fingers pulled out of her, moaning when they were replaced with the moistness of a tongue, sliding inside of her. The shock was palpable. She shivered in disgust. A woman was licking her. She realized the insanity of the thought. She'd had no problem being touched by her, not in the way she'd been touched so far. A blessing compared to the usual. But a woman's tongue? Oh, God! Would she be used by women, not men? A man's cock would eventually tire of her, but a woman's artificial hardness used on her could be unrelenting and endless. She trembled at the thought.

Her hands and feet had not been tied down, and she reached back, ashamed of her own actions, spreading herself open. The mouth on her was insistent, demanding, teasing and torturing. The motion moved downward to cover her sensitive nub, wresting more moans of pleasure from her which she fought to suppress. The burning feeling inside was growing, spreading, causing her nipples to harden and her breath to shorten.

In many ways it was like her first spanking session. The feelings intensified, blotting out the rest of the world. Time ceased to matter as the pleasure took over. Sheri felt the feeling build, the pressure mounting, until she didn't know how much more she could take. The oral onslaught was merciless and unrelenting. When she'd reached her limit she groaned loudly, begging for her release, with no more restraint than she'd shown begging for the spankings to stop. "Please, Mistress, please, I'm going to come," Sheri moaned.

The fingers were still probing her pussy. One had strayed into her virgin ass, and the Mistresses mouth was continuing its assault on her clit. Her entire body was trembling. She'd never felt like this before, and it was driving her crazy.

"Mistress!" she cried out.

"Come, dear child."

The words opened the floodgates and her body was wracked in spasms as she experienced the most powerful orgasm of her young life. The invading fingers slipped away, and the devilish tongue receded, the small kisses showering her privates all that remained, until they too ceased.

"Beautiful," she heard as the blackness receded and she was once more aware of her surroundings.

Gasping, she slowly lowered her body to the table before her trembling legs failed her. What was becoming of her? She'd enjoyed that far more than she should have, desperate for the release. Sex was something that was endured, not this. Never like this.

Her Mistress sat beside her, running her hand down her back, soothing her. "Phase two of your training has begun. You will remain obedient and respectful, you understand?"

"Yes Mistress"

"Good. If I should find cause to punish you, I won't be gentle this time. I expect more of you, and our time for preparation is running out. You will submit to me, completely, will you not?"

"Completely, Mistress."

"Good. Come then."

And so it began. The Mistress had been correct. This phase was even more exhausting than the previous. Throughout the day she found herself positioned in dozens of ways, forced to endure penetration from a variety of devices even more varied than the instruments of pain. Large and small, narrow and thick, hard and pliant, sleek and textured, she took them all. Few were the moments when one opening or another was not filled with some tool, straining her to her limits. Even while eating her scant meals, she endured a large plug in her poor bottom, while a small vibrator worked away within her tight pussy. She grew to adore the lube which was applied liberally, making what would otherwise be continuous torture an amazing soul-rending experience.

The intrusions into her rear were not the horrible acts she had anticipated, and with the Mistress's careful instruction she learned to take even the larger instruments in her back door, and achieve her orgasms with them there. She was mortified to find she was able to come with nothing more than anal penetration. So perverted and sick, what was she becoming? What were they making of her?

The day was not pain free. She found it impossible to take the larger imitation phalluses in her mouth, and gagged as soon as they reached her throat. It was a limitation the Mistress would not accept, and was determined to overcome. After the fourth failed attempt Sheri was strapped over a horse, her legs paddled until she took the entire length of a mounted dildo down her aching throat. She strained to resist the gagging, knowing it would only earn her further beatings. She shuddered to think of the punishments she'd receive for vomiting. In the end the pain in her thighs overcame the discomfort, and she endured the oral intrusion as long as required, breathless, aching, but accepting. She learned to relax her throat, swallowing repeatedly, and salivating on demand. She found a way to distance herself from the act, ignoring and suppressing the instinctive and involuntary resistance, opening her throat to the forced intrusion, and accepting it as long as required.

By the end of the day she was completely spent. She'd come more times than she'd believed possible, and spent so much time with artificial cocks down her throat, she could barely speak. Every opening was rubbed raw and she begged for rest.

"Dear, dear child, you have done well. You've earned your rest." The Mistress bathed her again, before placing her on the bed. She applied a soothing balm to her ass and pussy, massaging her gently. She removed the collar and applied more of the wonderful cream where it rubbed against her neck and shoulders. While Sheri lay there, feeling the cooling lotion do its work, her captor brushed her hair out, then carefully braided it, all in silence. Sheri was given some pain killers for the first time, and slipped into slumber, her life already changed beyond her imagination.

Sheri awoke to the caresses she'd grown accustomed to. She could feel the soreness in both her holes, a reminder of her lessons of the day before. She stretched, sighing, while the hands fondled her, rubbing her more intimately, cradling her tits, gently probing her pussy.

"Good morning, child. Another day of lessons awaits."

She cleared her throat, testing her voice. "Good morning, Mistress. Train me." Her throat still felt raw, her voice sounded rough.

The Mistress giggled. "Eager are we?"

"Willing, Mistress."

"What did I tell you?" the Mistress asked. The woman didn't sound angry. Sheri struggled to find the right answer, and was shocked to hear another voice.

"Everything you said and more. Thank you so much for including me. Does Robert know about her?" a new voice intoned from the opposite side of her cot.

Mistress hissed, "Names, Ivory, names."

The new person groaned, "I'm sorry, Scarlet. I forgot."

"Another slip like that and our guest won't be the only one undergoing training today."

"I won't forget again. I promise." The newcomer sounded concerned and contrite.

Sheri was abruptly as nervous as the first day. It wasn't the presence of the new captor as much as the sudden tone of the Mistress's voice. The same flat sound she'd had at first. A scary sound. Frightening.

She tried to sit up, forgetting she was still restrained.

"Easy child, I'm not cross with you. Hold still."

"Yes Mistress."

Mistress and the newcomer both worked on her ankles and wrists, freeing her quickly. Sheri spun her legs to the side, sitting up and sliding off the bed to stand before her captors.

"She needs cleaning," her Mistress said.

"May I?"

"Cleaning is all."

"Yes Scarlet, I'll be thorough and careful."

"Go ahead then."

A hand tugged at hers and pulled her along, uncaring of her stumbling and awkwardness, hurrying through the maze of furniture blind. Her leg struck hard against a sharp edge, bringing tears to her eyes, and drawing an unintended hiss from between her lips.

"Damn it, Ivory! Easy! If you hurt her I swear I'll pay you back double."

Sheri slammed head on into her guide, who had suddenly stopped. She staggered, when her guide moved aside. "I'm sorry Scarlet. I'm so sorry. I'm just so excited. Just look at her!"

"No excuses. I thought you were better trained than this. You're disappointing me." The Mistress's voice still sounded hard, with no sympathy for the newcomer.

Sheri's hand was squeezed tightly and she was tugged forward, "Be careful, bitch," the woman whispered angrily, pulling her along more slowly.

After a few more steps they stopped moving, and she heard the water of the shower turned on. She could hear the rustle of clothing next to her. Her shin was throbbing where she'd run into the table, but the pain was minor, less than she'd woken up to most mornings in her new jail.

Sheri was tugged forward, so the water was striking her waist. Ivory's hands reached up and removed her eye mask, peeling it away. She quickly closed her eyes in fear, bowing her head.

Her captor started removing her restraints. "Oh crap, you're bleeding? Shit!" Sheri clenched her eyes shut, while the newcomer's hands rubbed the wound on her shin. "It's not too bad, just a tiny nick. It doesn't hurt too much does it?"

"No Mistress."

With the restraints removed, Sheri was tugged under the water, and she could hear a curtain being drawn around the shower. That was interesting. She hadn't known there was a curtain.

"Not Mistress, no. Don't call me that. Ivory is fine, or ma'am." The giggle accompanying the new directions was unexpected.

"Yes Ivory."

"And you can open your eyes now, it's Ok."

Sheri cautiously parted her eyelids, and the dim light stabbed into her eyes, making them water. She kept her eyes partially closed, squinting, slowly getting used to the piercing light. After a few seconds she could bear more of it, and through the tears she could see her new guardian standing in front of her. She had a simple off-white mask on, and was smiling.

"How's that?" Ivory asked.

"Very nice, ma'am, thank you."

Ivory giggled, then moved behind her and started soaping up Sheri's body, the sponge rough against her skin.

"You're beautiful. I've never seen such a beautiful slave."

Slave. The words were like ice picks driving into her brain. She was their slave, absolute and there was nothing she could do about it. She struggled to keep from screaming, biting down on her lip. After a few seconds she regained control. "Thank you, Ivory. You're exceedingly kind."

Sheri tilted her head back and let the water beat down against her face, washing away the tears. The sponge and intrusive hands moved to her front, and she looked down at the girl cleaning her.

Ivory was appropriate. She had alabaster skin, nearly translucent, light blue veins visible at her neck and breasts. Her hair was platinum blond, possibly natural and barely shoulder length. She was young, probably mid teens. Sheri wouldn't have been surprised to hear she was still in middle-school. What kind of people were these that would let a teenager do such things?

Ivory's washing was taking on a new tone, the sponge gone, her hands rubbing and caressing now, touching Sheri between her legs. The girl's mouth glided upward and took a nipple between her lips, gently suckling. Wandering fingers were winding their way into her, spreading her sore lips, rubbing gently but insistently. The girl's tongue was teasing her nipple, forcing a sigh from her captive.

The girl stood before her, took Sheri's hands in her own and placed them on her small breasts. "Ok, your turn. Wash me."