Mistress Ellen’s Academy 5.2

by Bob Salinas

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© Copyright 2007 - Bob Salinas - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; F/f; D/s; bond; pillory; cbt; outdoors; toys; cons; X

Chapter 5 – Betsy’s Tour of the Academy, part 2


Mistress Ellen led me to the back door and out. "We have 80 fenced-in acres here, and - as of today - 23 outdoor ‘locations’ at which you can stage a session for a client, with plenty of room for more. I'll take you with me while I check on a couple of sessions and show you a couple more. I'll run off a list on the computer for you later."

We walked back and into the woods, following a narrow dirt path; in three minutes the Academy was hidden by the trees. In another minute we turned a corner and found a sign which, in the usual Gothic, announced 'Twenty-Three'.

"This is one of the three that are in use at the moment. Be very quiet."

In Location 23's small clearing, a short, heavy-set bald man was spread-eagled standing between two trees. He was naked except for his cuffs, a blindfold, a ball gag, and a ball-stretcher from which swayed a shiny brass clock weight. The stretcher squeezed his purplish balls two inches out from his body and was clearly uncomfortable.

Mistress Ellen reached into a small black 'tool box' on the ground and withdrew a thin wooden switch. Quietly stepping behind the man, who apparently hadn't heard us approach, she struck him quickly twice across his butt. Caught completely off guard, the man screamed through his gag and jerked violently; the weight on his balls swung back and forth. Mistress Ellen, speaking softly to calm him, reached out to stroke his ass and then between his thighs to tickle his balls. His cock inflated to rigidity as she briefly fondled it.

The slave groaned and his hips pumped his cock urgently into Mistress Ellen's hand. She stepped back: "Shame on you, slave Martin! You're much too eager and need much more training before you can be released upon civilized society. I'll come back to check on you later. Maybe." She hit him again with the switch and dropped it back in the box before leading me down the trail.

About a hundred yards further we came across Location Twenty-Five. This location was not in use and consisted of the universal tool box and a swing- two chains which suspended, from a branch high overhead, a leather strap-seat. From the center of the seat projected a rubber butt plug. "This is a very basic setup and depends a lot on what you bring in the way of supplies. That butt plug- you can attach any size, from ticklers to hernia material- is fiendish; the harder they swing or are swung, the more it stirs up their guts. It adds a crazy nightmare touch to those sweet childhood memories!" She chuckled as we moved on.

In another five minutes she told me "Now we'll look in on Slave Indra. There's a third slave, a man getting an incredible lesson in what not to eat, but he's 'way out back and being tended to by Mistress Candy. Nobody gets left alone out here for too long for safety reasons, of course. They may think they’ve been left alone, of course, but that’s the effect we want."

At Location Twenty-Seven we found a young East Indian girl, maybe 25, with an incredibly sweet face. She was quite naked, of course, and bound kneeling on a hollow square frame made from four two-foot pieces of 2X2 lumber fastened together with eyebolts at their ends. A rope fastened to each of these met the others at a heavy steel ring about eight feet over her head, and a rope fastened to that ring ran through a pulley high up in the tree. The whole apparatus had been used to pull her up so that her heavy bush was just at eye level. She had been gagged with a practice golf ball on a leather strap- the holes made her feel gagged but really only muffled her voice.

Her small but perky breasts bore nipple clamps- the kind that look like a long, shallow 'U' made of spring steel with cushions at the ends- connected by a short chain. Her wrists were bound behind her to her back and a velvet rope from the ring above her descended to loop about her chest just above her breasts, both squeezing them outward and (as a side effect) ensuring that she couldn't fall over. Around her waist ran another velvet rope which disappeared deep between her bulging asscheeks, ran through her crotch, and came back up her belly in front.

As Indra looked helplessly down at us, Mistress Ellen explained, "Slave Indra's American husband brought her to us for training and she herself consented to a 'crash course' on how to be an American slut. We're teaching her- among other things- how to accept her own casual nakedness and how to accept and enjoy an orgasm. She was brought up in a very conservative Hindu environment and has a lot of unlearning ahead of her. Isn't that right, Slave Indra?"

"Ysss, Mstrss Ellnn." Indras's voice was muffled but under­standable behind her minimal gag. Mistress Ellen put her hands on Indra's hips and turned her to face us. "Notice her crotch." I ducked under the frame to stand between her thighs and look closely at the girl's pussy, noticing how Indra flushed as I examined her small bush at intimately close range. The thick velvet rope bisected her pussy lips, crushing her clit. Protruding from her pussy, pressed deep into Indra by the rope, was about an inch of a thick plastic vibrator which was buried in her cunt up to its prominent balls. Then I noticed the thin wire that ran down her thigh to a small box lying on the ground.

"This is another of my developments- the vibrator is turned on automatically every thirty minutes for fifteen minutes. Indra's been dangling here for three hours... how often have you cum, slave Indra?"

"I hff cmm too tmmss, Mstrsss Lnn."

"Good- we're going to make it three." She reached down to the box and turned the vibrator on and Indra groaned throatily. We sat down against a tree and watched intently as Indra squirmed her way helplessly to a very wet orgasm, occasionally meeting my eyes but mainly absorbed in her sensations. At the last, I caught and held her eyes while she struggled and then exploded. She swung at the end of the rope as her body shuddered through her orgasm.

We got to our feet, and as Mistress Ellen turned off the vibrator and put it back on ‘autopilot’, I reached out to smear her juices across her thigh and below her nose. Indra flushed darkly. "Good, Indra... cuming which others watch is an advanced skill, even for an American slut. We're going to leave you to practice slutship by yourself."

"Thk yww, Mstrss."

I patted Indra's tight little butt as we left. "Indra's case was tough for several reasons. We had to be very careful to get informed consent, and I actually insisted on capturing on videotape her request for entry. On top of that, she's a pretty little thing, and I have to be very careful that she doesn't exhaust herself."

We walked and talked for another short while before stopping at Location Twenty-Nine: a small clearing with a pillory and ankle stocks. "This is one of my favorite locations- it holds fond memories for me. Let's make some more memories, okay? It'll give you another chance to demonstrate your techniques. You'll find a 'starter kit' in the tool box."

Mistress Ellen raised her hands to her bosom and lowered the zipper of her leather jump suit. The top spread wide under the pressure of her large, rounded breasts- they were supported only by a flimsy blue scrap of a nylon soft-cup bra. The zipper continued down her belly and through her crotch; she kicked off her heels and slipped off the suit, laying it on the grass.

Mistress Ellen released the catch at the front of her bra. As she pulled it off, her breasts dipped only a fraction. "Nice tits- they really don't need support."

"Thanks; that's why I can get away with such flimsy undies. But I do love pushup bras." Her panties (a similarly tiny scrap of translucent blue nylon that dipped into her cleft to leave her asscheeks bare) joined the bra on the grass, and Mistress Ellen stood naked before me in the sunlight. "Okay, Mistress Betsy, do with me as you wish!"

I looked over the contents of the supply box and picked up a slim leather switch which I hung on my belt. I stepped to the side of the pillory and held it open: "Assume the position, slave!" She smiled expectantly and 'assumed the position'.

Now-slave Ellen put her hands in the pillory's wrist cutouts and ducked her head, nestling her neck on the thick wooden plank. I lowered the upper gate and flipped the latch to lock her firmly in place.

"Put your feet in the stocks, slave."

"Yes, Betsy." I smacked her smartly across one butt-cheek with the switch. "Ouch!"

"That's Mistress Betsy, and don't you ever forget that!"

"Yes, Mistress Betsy." She spread her legs, feeling for the recesses in the stocks, and I locked her slim ankles into them. "You're mine now, slave Ellen. I can do anything I want to you, and it'll get pretty bad for you if you don't sign over the deed to your ranch." I threw out the idea as a suggestion for a fantasy.

"Never, Mistress Betsy! I'll never sign over the deed to the ranch!"

Figuring that she had stocked the tool box with her favorites, I stepped to it and selected two vibrators, a pair of nipple clamps, and two eight-ounce lead weights with hooks. Standing in front of the pillory, I pulled off my dress and stood there in my undies with my legs spread and my hands on my hips.

"You WILL make you give me the deed to your ranch, you slut!" I grabbed one breast (soft and warm in my hands) and quickly clamped its nipple.

"Ouch! No, I still won't sign over the ranch!"

"You'll beg to be able to give it to me soon enough, slut!" I secured the other nipple between the teeth of the clamp (the tricky kind that get tighter as more pull is put on them) and hung both weights from the core connecting them. Her nipples were flattened and stretched far out from her tit-meat.

"Ohhh..." I smiled at her reaction and stepped behind her to pick up the fatter vibrator. This was a high-tech model of an erect cock, nine inches long and two inches across, with a flared-out head and large balls. I stepped up to her and caressed her butt.

"Ohhh... you won't fool me that way, I still won't sign over the deed to the ranch!" I stroked her pussy with my fingers- it was already wet. I turned the vibrator to 'medium' and trailed it along her crack.

Another 'ohhh' escaped my slave and I slipped the fat head of the vibrator into her pussy. "Ohhh...." I started to push it in; the broad plastic head opened her pussy lips wider and wider until her box finally closed on it. "Ohhh...." Her hips bucked back at it, trying to swallow more of it, but I pulled back, teasing her with it. Very, very slowly I let her wrap her flesh around it. Her hips thrust spasmodically back at me and sweat appeared on her back.

"Please, Mistress Betsy... please give it to me so I can cum... please..."

"Will you sign the deed?"

"Never, you scum!" She wanted to cum, but not bad enough. I slipped the vibrator out of her and picked up the smaller asshole vibrator. I slipped it into her pussy. "Ohhh..." After a few strokes, I pulled it out and plunged it brutally into her asshole.

"Aggghhhh! Please, Mistress Betsy, not in my ass, please! A lady can't let her asshole be violated!"

I turned on the ass-pleasurer. "But you're no lady- you're a slut! And a slave slut, at that!"

I turned the other vibrator to 'HIGH' and started stroking her love nest with it.

"Ahhh... yesss... please.. yes, I'll sign the damn deed! Just let me cum, please, Mistress Betsy!" I slammed the vibrator balls-deep into her and pushed. In seconds she screamed wordlessly and gushed lust-juice over my hand as she came.

I waited until she shuddered through her orgasm and then turned off both vibrators. Pausing a minute for the 'exquisite sensitivity' phase to pass, I slipped the vibrator gently out of her asshole and then her pussy. Finally, I opened the ankle stocks, then the pillory, and let her stand up. Gently, I removed the clamps from her tits and kissed the red nipples softly. Holding her in my arms briefly, I walked back to the Academy, where we made arrangements for me to start 'work'.