Chapter 6
Sheree was only fourteen years old. She was not the youngest girl to ever feel the whips of the Whipmasters, but she was perhaps the most lovely.
In the house of discipline, among cultists of the black whip, Sheree wore only freshly applied welts; the scarlet stripes of the angry whip.
Bondage was part of her now. She could hardly remember the days when she went without slave bracelets locked around her wrists. It was almost as if they had always been there, making her a slave for pure love.
She had been bought by the Masters, one of the few girls to be bought as a slave, handed down from other Masters. Her mouth had been opened and her teeth and gums looked at and felt with fingers, just as any man would look at a potential slave, or a piece of cattle.
She had been owned by a cruel Master who tortured and abused her, but the clink of her chains did not make the depths beyond her maidenhead stir. She had not become aroused by the feel of cold iron warming to her chafed flesh.
Her distress seemed to be for no purpose, because the whiplash was not explained to her. She was beaten for transgressions, but she had never been instructed in the art of slavery.
Now, at the house of the Masters, she-was learning what slavery was really about. When the whip curled about her curved flesh, she was told why she was being punished, and the bands of fire which the Masters gave her were all for a reason.
Now she wore her bruises proudly, feeling naked without them. .
The sight of old whip strokes on her peachy body aroused the Whipmasters. They gave her fresh strokes constantly. The put her in shackles and fed her their pain. She was like a dog who had been abused by her first master. She was frightened, but so very willing to learn and to love.
There was a Whipmaster named Culver. He was a handsome fellow with a very hairy body. Dark and olive-skinned, he was in striking contrasting to the pale-skinned, blue-eyed Sheree. The ultimate Master himself had spoken to Culver.
"Take care of Sheree. Give her what she deserves. She is soon to be presented to me on a golden platter."
A message from the ultimate Master was to be taken seriously. Culver replayed the words over and over again in his head. He was so impressed that the Master had actually addressed him individually.
He followed many of the teachings of the ultimate Master. Of course, the ultimate Master had proclaimed that all should worship him, and Culver was swept away by the powerful glory of the ultimate Master.
The Whipmasters did not live in barren cubicles, as the slavegirls did. They had small rooms, sparsely furnished, but of a cleaner, more inviting nature. For one, the rooms of the Whipmasters were equipped with mirrors. The slavegirls were forbidden to look at their own reflections, and mirrors were denied them.
The ultimate Master had ruled that depriving the girls of mirrors would be more painful for them than having them see their own battered reflections, or forcing them to watch as they were beaten.
It was enough to see the welts and the punishment on other girls. That was hurtful enough until a girl got over her feelings of the backward world.
Culver looked at himself in the mirror before setting out to begin on young Sheree. He smiled at his image, noticing the tiny dimple in his cheek, which made him so very dashing. And the cleft in his chin was appreciated by the girls. They loved to run their tongues across the sacred indentation and lick his cleft the way the tongue slides over the slit of a hairless pussy.
He was different from the other Whipsmaster's. He was smaller of stature, and not nearly as well-hung. He was certainly endowed in every way, including his sexual muscle, but the other men who served as Whipmasters were giants. They were cartoons of the macho man, while Culver was more sensitive, more real.
His main problem was said to be that he became soft in his punishment techniques and applications, if a girl impressed him in a certain way.
If she was innocent and gentle in any way, he didn't go so hard on her. He had compassion. He was understanding of her point of view, because he put himself in the other's place.
The other Whipmasters had been trained in that direction, too. A Whipmaster without sensitivity was not to be found in the cult of the black whip, for intelligence, sensitivity and other high qualities were essential in the ultimate Master's Whipsmen.
It was just that Culver had more of all of this than the other Whipmasters. He tended to follow his feelings a bit too much. Some whispered that he was even ruled by his feelings, and that, according to the ultimate Master, would be any man's downfall.
There had been stirrings among the other men from time to time. There had been complaints about Culver. It was said that he should go; that he should be dismissed because he was too kind to the slavegirls.
The ultimate Master himself had heard the whispers, and had been given direct reports. Once the whispers grew into shouts, when an angry Whipmaster complained bitterly to the ultimate Master. That one was thrown from grace.
The ultimate Master kept Culver there. He even gave Culver some of the more unusual assignments. Some of the most lovely girls were placed in Culver's care.
Culver looked at his cock in the mirror. He admired the red star which moved back and forth in the skin when he wrinkled the flesh of his shaft with his fingers and pulled it back and forth.
He took a brass cock-ring from his drawer, and warmed the ring in his palms before placing it on his person. The ring had been given to him by the ultimate Master. Not directly, but through a messenger. It had been measured to his specifications.
Culver slipped his penis through the ring, and then pulled his balls through, too. The ring slipped up to the hairy patch, and he held it close.
He would stay aware of his cock when he felt the ring up against his groin.
Next he donned his utility belt, closing it in front so that the brass buckle glinted in the light. Gleaming black boots were waiting for his feet. They were highly polished with the tongues of young virgins. Half-moons dotted the tops of each leather boot. The decorations were placed there by the teeth of young girls who stayed down at his feet while he flogged them.
Biting into the leather was the only restraint he allowed them, and still they strained to raise their golden buttocks higher and higher, until the perfect globes met the stinging bite of the whip, repeatedly.
He really taught them how to give themselves up unto him, because he was such an appealing bait. They swallowed it all.
Closing his robe around him he walked down the hallway, into the corridor where the girls slept and were taught about pain and love. He heard the clicking of his left boot, circled from toe to sole with chain.
The cold chain links had pressed into the bodies of misbehaving slavegirls, and had served for the connections with hooks attached to the discipline-wear of girls who needed to be fastened to the foot of the Master.
He was on his way to see Sheree.
Wanting to be as mean as so many of the guarding Whipmasters, Culver unbolted the door to Sheree's small room without knocking. He caught her on her cot, in the midst of an act of masturbation.
The offense of masturbation, as far as the teachings of the ultimate Master was concerned, involved the pleasure that a girl gave to herself. It was, by nature, a selfish act, and although men were permitted such indulges, females were not. Not in the cult of the black whip, anyway. The girls had been told that they wouldn't be able to feel total satisfaction from such a selfish act.
Other Whipmasters would have started their flogging at once upon seeing such a sight. But Culver was moved.
He watched the beautiful, sandy-haired girl, and he wanted to soothe her wounds, the wounds which had been placed upon her. She immediately reminded Culver of another girl, a girl he had loved when he lived in the backwards world.
Culver had never quite gotten over her. Every time he saw a slavegirl in the cult house who was blessed with sandy blonde hair and a sweet smile, he thought of the gentle girl he had loved.
That, more than anything, was the reason Culver was gentle with his slavegirls. He felt that their delicate flesh deserved tender care. They needed discipline, that he strongly believed. He felt that they needed it for their satisfaction. But he wanted to be certain that he did it with love.
Sheree brought that emotion out in him. He wanted to protect and love her from the first. Her fingers were damp with her own golden syrups, those thick female fluids which might have existed in many a cunt, but which were uniquely Sheree's to the taste.
She removed her slender fingers from the moist honey pot, but not with any rush or fear. She recognized the goodness in the eyes of Culver, and she trusted him from that moment on.
Not that there weren't moments when the trust was questioned. She had difficulty trusting people, due to the abuse of her first master, outside the cult of the black whip. He had said he loved her, and at the time she'd believed it.
But later, when she looked at the deep punishment marks upon her once-flawless body, she resented him. She hated him. She wanted his pain when he gave it, but later she wished the marks would fade.
The pain was not intense any longer, but it remained in each sore spot, just as the pain of any blow is said to stay within the body.
Culver could see all that within her. He could see it in the expression which stayed on her young face. There was sadness there and fear, and he didn't want to give her any more. He wanted to support her, and to make her feel good about herself.
He didn't want to demean her.
At the same time, he knew that her happiness could only come with her submission. That was what they had both been taught. That was what they were both trained to accept fully, without reservation.
He was confused.
Female masturbation in the rooms was strongly prohibited. It was a serious offense, for it rocked the very nature of the training. These girls were being trained to receive their pleasure from the giving of pleasure to men.
And yet, as soon as Culver saw the girl there on her cot, when he saw her fingers inside the lips of her sex, his own sex organ began to throb. Blood came into it and it grew fat and heavy. It grew so that it could penetrate her. That was nature's way, and nature's way seemed now to defy even the commands of the ultimate Master.
Culver knew that it was his duty to punish Sheree for her offense. But all he really wanted was to make love to her.
He solved his quandary by giving her sex as punishment. It was an act which went against the rules of the ultimate Master. The ultimate Master had said that sex was to be deprived girls who did not obey. But this Whipmaster, Culver, was going to give her sex as punishment. It was peculiar, but he had to try it.
"Take your hands away from that hole," he told her. "You know that frigging is prohibited by the ultimate Master, and punishable by whipping."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Whipmaster," Sheree sighed, and she smiled a little Mona Lisa smiled. She smiled that smile always, just because she had been doing it for years. It was almost a nervous reaction which came to her lips in many situations.
And it captivated Culver. He looked at that innocent face. She was so young and so lovely. Her lips were full and shaped so that they just invited the lips of another to kiss them and kiss them again, but gently and lovingly.
Her eyes were long-lashed, and now they were like slits, because Sheree was feeling passion, first with her own five finger exercise, and now with the entrance of Culver, who had come to take her in the night.
"Attack me," the girl begged. "Attack me!"
Culver's rod was like a weapon and he felt the energy in it. He felt like a mountain of strength beside the fragile, pale-skinned blonde.
Brandishing his weapon, he climbed on top of the cot and straddled her body. She began to writhe below him, tossing her head back on the dirty, feather pillow. She closed her eyes and waited for him to take her.
Her breasts were small, but Culver's fingers found them and massaged them, squeezing the tan nipples as he went. Then he held the girl down on the bed by her wrists, and placed his organ at the entrance to her girlhood.
There was little lubrication other than the cunt juice which she had provoked with her frigging and he felt the tight passageway open at the insistence of his force.
Sheree closed her eyes more tightly, then, and tried to stifle her cries. This was punishment for the girl. She knew what was happening, and she didn't stop the Whipmaster.
She was getting his tool inside of her. And he was pushing at the maidenhead! In outright defiance of the strict rule of the ultimate Master, Sheree's maidenhead was being taken. That membrane which defined her virginity was about to be broken.
All of her work as a slavegirl in training for the ultimate Master would have been for nothing as soon as the hymen was broken like an eggshell. She would find herself pinned to the cot like a butterfly on a pin, and all of her dreams for happiness in the realm of the ultimate Master would be over.
They both knew this. Both Culver and Sheree realized that this act was going against the teachings of the black whip cult. If they were discovered, they would both be banished from the cult or worse! God and the ultimate Master only knew what the punishment would be for this act.
But they had to do it. Their good sense and their devotion to the teachings of the cult were fading fast. The stiffness of the man's erection, and the undulations of the girl's cherry pot, had no conscience.
They had to have their satisfaction, even if it was against the Master's way.
Culver looked down at the girl's smooth legs and thighs. Although she was slender from her waist up, her hips were full and her rear was meaty. Those white hips received a few slaps from Culver, who had been trained to find pleasure in the administration of hurt.
Each slap showed on the girl's body, despite the light force exerted. Her flesh was pale and easily marked. The slaps caused her breathing to go heavy and a low moan began to escape from her throat.
She wrapped her legs around the waist of the man entering her. She looked up into his face and begged him to plug her deeply.
He pressed his weight forward into her. Deeper and deeper he went against the thick hymen. Hers was not that easily broken. It was resistant. But after a smack to her thigh, the mighty tool plunged through.
It had happened. Her virginity was gone in that instant. The flow of blood was taking place and with it, all of Sheree's work as a slavegirl went for naught.
He almost felt sorry that he had allowed himself to go all the way with her, despite the intense warmth and wetness of her depths. But it had been done, and since there was certainly no turning back from that point on, he gave her a fucking which made her know the joy of that kind of sex.
He arched his pelvis and gave her his manhood in and out until she cried.
The sound of their bodies having sex on the cot aroused the sleeping Angelica, who was in the adjoining room. She awoke in the darkness and stared at the barren ceiling. She looked into the darkness and heard the sighs and moans and sobs from the room next to hers.
She assumed that Sheree was receiving discipline. Even at the late hour of the night, it was not unusual to hear discipline being administered and received.
Still, there was something different about these sounds from Sheree. There was a difference which Angelica could not define, and yet, as another girl, she could sense it.
Then she heard the rhythmic groans of a man's voice. It came in a steady rhythm, and it was louder each fifth time than the four times before or after.
Angelica's curiosity was aroused even more than her clitoris was at these sounds. Since it was happening in the room adjoining hers, she placed her ear up against the wall to hear more clearly.
Still she was unable to confirm her belief that this was something more than a punishment session. She wanted very badly to open the peephole and take a look, but she feared that she was being tested for some reason or other. She thought, perhaps, that she would be punished for looking through the peephole.' Perhaps curiosity was a sin in the cult. She hadn't heard about that, but anything was possible in this place.
The sounds were getting louder and more frenzied, despite an obvious attempt to keep them hushed. It was the attempt to keep the sounds quiet which aroused Angelica to the point that she could hold back no longer.
She heard Sheree moaning softly, saying something like "Take me all the way. I don't care about the ultimate Master, now. All that matters is you and I together like this."
Angelica couldn't be certain that she had heard every word correctly, but it did seem as if that was what was being said. And she thought she heard the man's voice saying, "I know this is wrong, and we may risk even greater punishment for doing it, but Sheree, I want to feel that heat of your inner soul around my trembling organ."
Angelica opened the peephole and stared in. What she saw confirmed her greatest fears for Sheree and the Whipmaster. It was true.
The insertion of an erect penis into the quivering quim of a virgin was permitted by the ultimate Master, as long as the erection did not go beyond the protective shield of the maidenhead.
However, Angelica could see the full length of the man's organ when he pulled it nearly out of the girl each time on his back strokes. It was glistening, and it was long. When it went back in, it was obvious to Angelica that it was penetrating into the bottom of the young girl's pussy.
And every fifth stroke given Sheree, went very deeply. Angelica could see the hair from the Whipmaster's crotch get soaked with cuntal lubrication each time. She knew that the man and the girl had broken the rules.
Angelica's heart was pounding and she felt fevered. The sight was arousing, but it was forbidden. The combination of elements made it all the more exciting for Angelica to see.
She hoped that Sheree and Culver would not see her peeping on them. That would involve her in the terrible act, and she didn't want to risk further punishment. As it was, she had been beaten severely several times, and she was said to be making good progress as a first level slave.
Angelica remained about the hole which magnified the sight she looked at. It was a strange phenomenon, but the sex organs, in full view through the hole, did seem to be very close to Angelica's eye; so close, she could almost reach out and touch them.
It was too much for her. Knowledge of what she saw was maddening for her. She felt that it was her duty to report this to one of the Whipmasters, or even to the ultimate Master, himself.
She hated to tell on another girl, knowing that it might just as easily have been she who had given in to sexual desire and thus relinquished all rights to the ultimate Master and the satisfaction of the cult.
But if she was to serve the ultimate Master, she felt that she should report such a thing to him. Besides, it might elevate her stature as a slave if she did.
This was too much for her to consider at the moment. She stood up from her kneeling position. This placed her vagina at the level of the peephole.
In the next room, Sheree continued to take the sexual gifts of the young Whipmaster, Culver. Their young bodies were moving together, and sometimes the pattern of their arousal would become intense, causing sweat to pour off them, and their breaths to come quickly and deeply.
Then they would rest for a short while, while Sheree covered the Whipmaster's body with wet kisses. His organ remained embedded deep in her velvet-lined box.
Culver now knew why the vagina was called a velvet-lined box. It was so soft, but not really like velvet, because there was a dampness to the warm softness. It was like wet velvet, really, hosed down with the nectar of youthful femininity.
He pulled his prong out of her young passage and fed it to her.
"Clean it off," he told her. "Those are your virgin juices on there," he told her. "If I have my way, and we live through this, I'll fuck you many more times, and you will clean my tool with your mouth many more times. But never again will you be able to taste the cherry juice I give you now."
The fourteen-year-old doll sucked the rod clean. She was warm to the touch all over her sweet body, but her mouth was hot. She gave the man a loving suck job, for she did worship his body. In that respect, she had been perfectly trained.
In that respect, she was a perfect slave; a cock-loving slavegirl.
She didn't need the ropes or the lengths of clothesline around her breasts. She didn't need the chains, or the encouragement of the whip. She was willing to be a slave to his cock, and to do everything she could to make his cock feel good.
While she sucked, he held the sides of her face with his hands. He snaked his fingers down to her slavegirl mouth and inserted them into her as she sucked. It made it more difficult for her to keep her lips wrapped around him, but she didn't stop. Instead, she worked all the harder to satisfy him fully.
When his fingers were wet with the saliva from her mouth, he used them to run through her hair and to fondle the delicate tissues inside her ears. But he wanted more. He had taken this girl sexually, and he wanted all of her.
He pulled out of her and turned her over so that her body was prone on the cot. First he allowed her to continue sucking his cock for a while, because she was begging for that so. He sat propped against the wall and spread his legs.
He could look down at her perfect buns wiggling around as she thrashed her newly fucked sex organ on the cot and sucked at his cock. Even her toes were curling, that was how excited she was. He thought she was the most passionate girl he had ever known.
The cheeks of her buttocks looked like a heart to him. A great big valentine heart. On the right cheek, just beyond the crack, a rash of red marks appeared. This was the evidence of a previous beating.
Even though he didn't want to be responsible for hurting this girl, the sight of the marks appealed to him. It meant to him that she had taken abuse from other men. It caused his erection to grow stiffer in her mouth, just to know that she had been strong enough to take such a heavy workout. The idea that there were Whipmasters who were that dominant and forceful, appealed to him, too.
He began to thrust his erection down into the softness of her throat, causing her to gag and nearly choke on it. He kneaded the flesh of her girlish globes, feeling the dampness in the crack between them.
He pulled out of her throat and climbed over again. This time he went down on her behind, spreading the cheeks, biting them, and going for the hole between them.
He looked at it, the hole, and saw the lines of it. He ran his wet tongue around the circular pattern, and Sheree arched her body up for the stroking of his tongue muscle. She began to moan again.
He licked her hole and felt that the puckered rosebud of delicate flesh was like a tiny pussy, all puckered and equipped with a variety of soft and lovely folds of sensitive flesh.
Extending his tongue muscle, he licked the entire region of her privates. He started back on the pussy which was peeking out between the lower part of her cheeks and the upper thighs. His tongue then caressed all the girl flesh between Sheree's pussy and her ass.
The entire area was sensitive to his touch, and once it was slicked with saliva, it responded all the more. He worked his tongue along the entire area, making certain to press down into the brown asshole when he reached it.
He continued on up after sinking into the hole for a moment. He licked the crack, and settled his chin in the hole. He pressed his chin into the hole, as if burrowing into it. Since his chin was thicker than his tongue, the slightly pointed, slightly rounded chin was taken in a little bit more each time by the clinging, grasping asshole of the passionate young teenager.
When she was able to, Sheree ran her hands all over the body of the Whipmaster. She wanted to explore his flesh, and she wanted to give him stimulation all over, simultaneously. There was more to sucking a cock than simply using one's mouth. She used her hands, as well, fondling his balls, stroking his hairy thighs, pulling at the pubic fur.
She even used her feet, running them up and down his inner thighs, or over his own feet, or wherever she could reach in her position at the moment.
But as Culver explored the fine blonde hair which surrounded her privates, her hands were free, up above her head. When Culver's tongue entered her, she had to hold onto something, simply so she wouldn't fly off the cot in high excitement.
She reached out to either side of her, and the room was so tiny, she was able to touch the walls on both sides of her.
Her fingers found the peephole, and from there they found the soft wetness which was pressing against it. It was the pussy of Angelica!
At the very first touch, it was not possible for Sheree to know what she was feeling. She thought that it might be a mouth, or ... . could it be?
She recognized the undulating membranes of female desire, because they were like the membranes of her undulating sex organ. She felt the fine and tightly stretched membrane of protection which had just been taken from her own sex channel.
Sheree knew that the girl on the other side was writhing against the wall, her breasts pressed up against the hardness of it. She fingered the delicate slit and heard the obvious arousal on the other side.
She didn't tell Culver the Whipmaster what she was feeling there, because she didn't want to frighten the man. If he suspected that anyone had observed them through the peephole, engaging in an act which was strictly forbidden by the ultimate Master, it might have stopped him from the luxurious tongue lapping he was giving her.
But the feeling of the girl-organ on the other side of the wall, and the feeling of the man at her bottom, was causing Sheree to enter a new phase of arousal. She felt her climax approaching.
She had been trained at the house of the black whip to hold off her orgasm until her male sex partner had given her a sign that he wanted her to climax. She had been told that she could experience her ultimate satisfaction from giving pleasure to males, and that her clitoris had nothing to do with it.
But now she wondered about that. How could a male say that to her? A male didn't have the sexual equipment which she had. Only she, as a female, could know what would bring her pleasure.
She became selfish. She had broken one of the highest rules of the cult by losing her virginity to a Whipmaster. They had both sinned, in the eyes of the ultimate Master.
But even a man as high as the ultimate Master couldn't tell Sheree what brought her the ultimate pleasure. Not as far as she was concerned as she felt the stirrings inside of her. She had kept that place sacred and virginal for fourteen years. But now all barriers were broken, along with the hymen.
She didn't care about her training as a slave. She disregarded everything she had been taught as a slavegirl of the cult of the black whip.
In fact, all of her submissiveness flowed from her body, with her virgin blood. She pulled her finger from Angelica's hole and tried to wriggle her bottom away from the mouth of the licking, biting, probing Whipmaster.
Culver thought that she was just showing her female muscle power, at first. He forced her back down on the cot with his mouth. His chin was inside the ass of the girl, and he began to bite her over the red belt markings on her cheeks.
He held her down with his hands; his fingers digging in her flesh.
That wasn't even enough to keep her down. Sheree thrashed, using all of her strength. She managed to escape the grasp of the Whipmaster. She jumped on top of him! He was stunned. Never had any slavegirl shown such determination at that stage in her progression to slavery.
But she was now on top. She went for his feet and began tickling them. She held him in place as best as her fourteen-year-old body could.
Hearing the change in the sexual activity on the other side of the wall, Angelica moved back down on her knees to observe the happenings. She was stunned, too.
Culver wasn't resisting! He was letting the girl take over.
Sheree removed the belt from around Culver's waist. She opened the utility pouch and took out a thin riding crop. She began to thrash the man's strong back with it!
This behavior was highly unusual inside the doors of the cult house. Culver didn't fight her off. She remained on the cot and allowed her to whip him.
He began to let out man-cries. His manly voice was floating down the hallway, waking up several of the sleeping slavegirls. They heard the sound of the cracking whip, which was not uncommon, but the man-cries were making it obvious that it was a male receiving the abuse.
Angelica watched in amazement for a while, but the sight repulsed her. She was able to remain silent when the young Whipsman had penetrating intercourse with Sheree. But this was going too far in the breaking of the rules.
This reversed the entire system of regulations.
Since Sheree's room was located at the very end of the corridor, there was only peephole in the room, the one through which Angelica had been observing. The intensity of Culver's groaning and grunting was growing, alerting many of the girls, although only Angelica was certain of what was going on, since she had the benefit of the peephole.
Suddenly, it became obvious to Angelica that there was only thing for her to do. She had to report this incident to the authorities of the black whip. It was one thing to spy through the peephole. That might earn her punishment strokes.
But it was another thing to ignore something like this. There would be no way that she could get away with saying that she slept through such a display of noise without looking through the peephole.
Angelica had not been allowed to sleep without bondage. One of her wrists was secured to the cot springs by a heavy brass ring. The bondage allowed her to move only from her supine position to a sitting, kneeling, and standing one. Therefore, she was able to achieve those positions at the peephole, but she was not able to do so without straining. When she stood, the cot rose with her.
She was, however, unable to get to the door, which was bolted, anyway. But she did have her emergency bell.
The emergency bell in each girl's room was wired to the chamber of her personal Whipmaster. Angelica had been given a strict instruction about the bell. She had been warned that she would be flogged until the blood flowed if she used the bell to disturb her Whipmaster regarding an event which he considered to be less than an emergency.
The emergency bells were used very seldom in the house because of that warning.
But Angelica watched the aggressiveness of the girl who was actually dominating a Whipmaster. Angelica had learned enough in her passage to slavery to know that this was an emergency.
She rang the bell, and prayed that her Whipmaster would arrive in time.