Kidnapped Kristin Ch. 08

Kristin stood in a daze as the next girl was called forward. She was tiny, even shorter than Kristin, and very petite, with olive skin and black hair that made her look Indian or Latina. None of the girls had been unafraid, but she was obviously almost petrified with fear, her eyes huge and her whole body trembling.

The trainer's manner was very calm and gentle as he inspected her.

"Don't worry, pequena. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just going to give you a new name. English is fine, right?"

The girl shivered with eyes forward as though she hadn't heard him. He slapped her face gently.

"Resposta-se."

She nodded slightly, tears welling in her eyes.

"Say 'Yes, Sir'."

She squeaked something indistinct.

"Louder."

"Yes, Sir." Kristin couldn't place the accent.

"You're a delicate little flower, so I'm going to call you lilly. Tell me your name."

"Antonia."

"Antonia is dead, lilly. Tell me your name."

The girl lowered her head and sobbed. He stood in front of her, lifting her chin so her eyes met his as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"You're lilly. Say it."

She cried and twisted her head slightly, prompting another gentle slap on the cheek.

"Say it, lilly. I don't want to hurt you, so be a good girl. I won't say it again."

"lilly."

"Good girl. Back in place."

He stepped out of the way, but she just stood in place with her head down, crying.

"Go back to your place, lilly."

He gently swatted her bottom and she slowly returned to her place.

"All right, sluts. Adjust your position, don't forget how I told you to stand at rest. Now I want all of you to get on your knees.

Butts back on your calves, hands on your thighs and eyes down. Go. Knees a little closer, minou. Straighten your back, lilly. Good girls."

His tone was much gentler than it had been as he addressed them again.

"Now, slaves, let's talk about how I'm going to train you. First, you own nothing. Everything you have right now is a privilege from me. Speaking is a privilege, and will be revoked if you can't do it right. Standing on your hind legs is a privilege. The hair on your heads is a privilege. All I have to do is keep you alive, and that's only because if I damage the merchandise, it comes out of my pocket. I am not a cruel man, and I will be nice to you if you're good for me. You look like a very good lot of girls, so I don't anticipate having to be too mean.

"I'm going to push you very hard, though, to make you the very best slaves you can possibly be. Down here, you're going to learn to accept pain with a smile and become the depraved little sluts I know you can be. If you prove you're useful sexually, we'll get you out of this basement and bring you upstairs and train you to be good servants. And if you're good little servants, we'll train you to be the world's finest courtesans.

"But you have to prove yourself down here first. For now, you have no privileges to use furniture, not that there is any down here. You speak only when spoken to. Either 'Yes, Sir', 'No, Sir', or a direct answer to a question. You don't use the word 'I', 'me', or 'my', You will say "this slave" instead. You will not even stand on your hind legs unless directed specifically otherwise. tits! Get over here!"

The girl rose to her feet unsteadily.

"Down, slave!"

She sunk to her knees again, confused.

"Did I tell you to stand? Just stay there. cunt, get your ass over here."

The red-haired girl looked at him slightly baffled, without moving.

"All fours, cunt."

She crawled slowly over to him, looking up at him.

"Keep your eyes down, cunt. Don't make eye contact unless I tell you to. That goes for all you sluts."

cunt reached the trainer, stopping on all fours at his feet.

"When you stop, get back on your knees in the kneeling rest."

She returned to the position, looking back up at him. He slapped her across the face, hard enough to turn her head to one side.

"Eyes down is part of it, cunt. I won't tell you again. Now, put your face down and your ass up in the air. Stretch your arms out in front of you, on either side of my feet, just like that. Put your right cheek on the floor. Good girl. This is the worship position. Now lick my boots, cunt."

The girl hesitated for a moment, but then her tongue reached out and gingerly touched his polished black military-style boot.

"Good girl. You can move your head around when I have you worship my boots."

She moved her head over to the other boot and gingerly touched her tongue to it as well.

"Enthusiasm, cunt. Whatever I tell you to do, you will do enthusiastically. Get your tongue out and make love to my boots."

After a few moments of licking, he nodded.

"Back up, cunt. Not bad for your first time. Now thank me for it. Anything I let you do, thank me."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Thanks for what, cunt?"

"Thank you for letting me lick your boots, Sir."

"Pronouns, cunt. You haven't earned them."

"Thank you for letting this slave lick your boots, Sir."

"You haven't earned it, cunt, but it's a lesson for the other sluts. Now crawl back to your place. tits! You ready to try doing it right this time?"

The brunette called tits hesitated a bit more than cunt had when the trainer called her, but she crawled over to him with her eyes down all the same. When she reached his feet, she moved to a kneeling position, still looking downwards.

"Next time change positions with a little bit of grace, tits. You remember the display position?"

"Yes, Sir." Her voice was quiet but steady.

"Now, a slave can display itself on its knees. Upper body same as you did before, knees apart about 90 degrees."

The girl quickly complied, and he squatted so his eyes were only a little higher than hers.

"Head up straighter, tits. Look straight forward. Don't worry about where I am or what I'm doing."

She shuddered as his hands caressed her breasts, running gently underneath and hefting them slightly, then back up to gently stroke her nipples, which hardened in response. Taking them between his fingers, he rolled them softly then pinched down hard and elongated them, causing her to cry out and lean forward, her hands separating behind her head.

"Keep the position, tits, whatever I do. Men are going to go straight for those things, they're championship-caliber breasts. Some guys are going to tie rope around them until they turn purple, whip them bloody, hang weights from your nipples, whatever. In fact, I'm going to do some of those things to them and I'm going to enjoy it. What do you say when a man is nice enough to stroke your nipples, tits?"

"Thank you, sir. Thank you for...touching a slave's...tits."

"My pleasure, tits. Now get your ass back in position. minou! Get over here!"

Kristin could see that tits was crying as she crawled back, and part of her was relieved that tits had drawn that attention, since without her Kristin would have been the most buxom girl in the room. cunt had elegant handful-sized breasts and lilly and minou were both almost flat. She supposed her breasts would get their turn, but not as badly as tits. She also wondered what humiliation he might have in store for her.

minou reached the trainer's feet and slowly adopted a kneeling position, her arms drawn in as to mostly cover her breasts and her hands over her genitals.

"That's not the position I taught you, minou. A slave never hides itself. Hands on your thighs like I taught you. Eyes down, but don't dig your chin into your chest like that."

The girl corrected herself hesitantly.

"What I say, when I say, minou. It's not outright defiance, but you're clearly in need of correction. Do you think I'm the kind of guy you can just kind of do whatever for and that I'll accept that?"

She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.

"Speak up, minou."

"No, Sir"

"Ask me to correct you. It's for your own good, after all."

"Correct me, Sir"

"Pronouns, minou."

"Correct this slave, Sir"

"Correct this slave for what?"

"For..covering up, Sir."

"Never ever cover up, girls. Do the positions exactly as I have described them. I will make minor corrections but I will not tolerate deliberate lapses. Stand up, minou. Bend over at the waist, feet wide apart, and grab your ankles."

She complied, exposing not only her pale rump but her genitals to the other girls. The trainer walked around behind her, removing his black leather belt from his waist.

"I'm giving you ten strokes. After each stroke, you will count it, and thank me. If you let go of your ankles, fail to sound off, or screw up the position, the stroke does not count."

Bending the belt double, he quickly struck her left buttock, leaving an angry red stripe. minou screamed and almost straightened, but regained her composure enough to say "One, thank you, Sir!"

A second blow from the doubled belt struck her right buttock. This time she appeared to have been more ready for it. Her "Two, thank you, Sir," clearly came from between gritted teeth. A third, again on the left side, and she sounded off with a bit of a quaver in her voice. When the fourth and fifth blows struck, her count came out as one rushed word. Kristin could see from the red belt outlines that he was striking at a slightly different angle each time so as to ensure he covered all of her ass. The sixth belt strike, however, landed exactly where the first blow on her left buttock had, and she screamed "Please, no more!" and half-straightened instead. His hand caught her head quickly, grabbing the base of her hair and forcing her back down.

"Four more, minou. That one doesn't count. You can do this."

He struck another blow straight across the middle at the top of her cleft, reddening both buttocks. "Six, thankyouSir," said the girl between her sobs. The next struck lower, across her genitalia, and she cried louder without counting.

"How many was that, minou?"

"Seven, sir"

"Not good enough. Let's do that over."

He struck her again in the same place, and she managed to say "Seven, thank you sir."

Eight was to the right buttock again, and hit with a louder crack than any of the others had. She managed to sound off for that, and again when he struck her directly between the legs, though she shrieked with the impact. The final blow wound up from behind her shoulders and landed precisely in the red track from the first blow, which had been struck twice already. The sobbing girl still managed to get out a "Ten, thank you sir."

"And what did you just thank me for, minou?"

"For whipping me, Sir."

"Thank me for correcting you, minou. And that wasn't the whip, just the belt. I've got things that will turn your pretty little ass redder than that."

"Thank you for correcting me, Sir."

"Pronouns"

"Thank you for correcting this slave, Sir."

"Back on your knees, minou."

The girl knelt, her sore buttocks hovering slightly above her calves. The trainer walked over to a cabinet in the corner of the room and got a bottle of lotion, returning to her.

"Now dry your tears, pretty girl. I'm going to have to put some lotion on so your ass stays nice and soft and tender for me, but for now, just stop crying."

He knelt beside the weeping blond girl, picking her up in his arms so her head lay on his shoulder.

"Arms around me, minou, legs on either side of me. Just relax."

He easily handled the girl's weight as she clung to him crying, stabilizing her with an arm around the waist and rubbing lotion into her reddened ass with the other hand. Her tears gradually abated and she clung to him harder as he worked, but when he was done, he gently lowered her back to her knees.

"Okay, minou. I'm done with you. Crawl back in your spot. doll! Get over here."