Chapter 3
Sandra woke up slowly. A beam of sharply bright sunlight streamed throught the windows, falling squarely on her face. She sat up slowly, shaking her head and squinting.
She stretched out her arms, and yawned. She remembered with a start what had happened the night before, and began a nervous examination of her privates.
There wasn't a trace of the torments that had been inflicted on her. She slipped out of the bed and positioned herself before a mirror. She carefully inspected her right breast. There were no marks on it at all.
There was a soft knock on the door to her room. She turned her head sharply around and strode towards the door.
"Who's there?" she barked.
"Persis," answered a soft, female voice. "I'm staff."
"Come in," said Sandra.
The door opened slowly and a young woman walked in, dressed in a maid's uniform. She carried several garments over her arm.
"I'm to dress you for breakfast," she said, keeping her gaze to the floor.
Sandra stared at her with amazement. This action seemed entirely inconsistent with the treatment she'd gotten the night before.
"Very well," she said hesitantly.
The maid walked over to the bed and laid the garments carefully out on the mattress. Sandra eyed them with a critical gaze.
They were perfect for her, and some of the most expensive clothes she'd ever seen.
She turned to the maid.
"Persis is your name, right?"
"Yes, miss."
"That's a pretty name. But an unusual one."
"I'm British, miss," said the maid.
She combed Sandra's hair, then helped Sandra dressed.
Sandra stepped away from her as she zipped up the dress the Clarks had provided. She stepped over to a full length mirror, and smiled at her appearance.
"Now to breakfast miss," said Persis. "Main dining room."
Sandra followed her out. She went downstairs to the main room. Persis pointed to her right.
"That way, miss."
She turned and walked quickly away. Sandra pushed her way through a pair of huge mahogany doors and found herself in the Clark's main dining room.
She gasped with awe at the elegance of the place. A crystal chandelier hung straight down from the ceiling, sending splinters of brilliant light flooding through the room. The hardwood floor shined so brightly she could clearly see her reflection in it.
A huge mahogany table stretched across the length of the center of the room.
Betsy and Val were seated near the end of the table.
"Good morning!" they chorused.
Sandra walked over to them, and pulled out a chair. She plunked herself down on the leather-covered seat, then leaned forward, clasping her hands in front of her at the edge of the table.
"Did you sleep well?" asked Val.
"Yes, thank you," said Sandra shortly.
Betsy beamed at her.
"So! What did you think of our little game?"
Sandra peered at her, puzzled.
"No commands now," chuckled Val. "This is a rest period."
"So what happens after that?" asked Sandra.
"Whatever," smiled Betsy.
Sandra decided not to carry the discussion any further.
"We have a lot to talk about," said Val. "But first we eat. We believe in a hearty breakfast around here."
Sandra managed a smile. "Well, at least you're treating me like a guest," she said. "I'm absolutely ravenous, myself."
A young man dressed as a waiter crept softly into the room, holding a tray laden with dishes. He set the tray down carefully.
"Whipped cream and pancakes!" said Sandra.
"Your favorite; right?" smiled Betsy.
"You know it," said Sandra with a grin.
Breakfast was followed by a cup of coffee for each of them. Val pushed himself away from the table.
"What's say we go out in back and have a talk?"
"Fine with me," said Sandra, her mood considerably mollified by the excellent meal.
They walked out of the dining room and out to the back of the house. They seated themselves around a small metal table set in the huge, beautiful lawn.
Sandra jumped as a lawnmower passed close to her chair. She turned to see a youngish man riding in it. He was sweating, and dressed in a flannel shirt and blue jeans.
"Your gardener?" she smiled at Betsy.
"Assistant," she replied with a wry grin. "Old Ben is the master gardener. He directs Billy there, and Mike and Wells. He hasn't touched a leaf himself in years."
"But you just keep him on, right?"
"Comfortable as an old shoe," smiled Val.
Sandra gazed at them with renewed respect.
"Just how rich are you people, anyway?"
Val chuckled. "I can't give you a dollar for dollar figure, of course. It would take a team of accountants a couple of months to come up with that figure. But I'll tell you how we got this place. Our father was flying over the area, shortly after he'd been engaged to our mother. He saw this plateau, and decided to buy it for a home."
"And he bought it, just like that?"
"Not exactly. A great deal of money was passed around the state legislature-" Sandra gasped loudly.
"That was then," smiled Betsy. "Now he more or less runs the show up there."
Sandra felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. With influence that strong, there was no hope of her finding legal sanction against any further brutality on the part of Betsy and Val.
She decided to bring the whole matter to a head right then.
She leaned forward, and clasped her hands in front of her. She scowled deeply as she spoke.
"Now. What was the meaning of those horrible things you did to me?"
"We love you," said Betsy. "We want to change you."
"How?" asked Sandra sharply.
"By teaching you to be obedient, I mean, submissive. You're much too, well, pardon the use of the word, but, snotty. We want to soften you up a bit."
Sharon closed her eyes until they were two tiny slits in her face. She all but snarled as she replied.
"I'm not going to let you do one more filthy thing to me," she said.
"But loving someone's body isn't filthy," protested Betsy.
"No? And what about those horrible torments?"
"To change you, as I just said. And we show our love for you by causing you pain."
Sandra opened her eyes wide with horror.
"What kind of awful way is that-" she began.
Val raised his hand, and smiled softly.
"Just what is the difference between pleasure and pain, anyway? Have you ever heard the cries one makes in the throes of intercourse? They do sound like cries of pain, don't they?"
"That's just the way they sound," mumbled Sandra. She found it hard to disagree with what Val was saying.
"Think about your own experiences," said Betsy.
"Well, that's certainly none of your affair," barked Sandra.
"Listen, please," said Betsy.
Sandra glared at her. Val curled his arm around Betsy's shoulders and leaned back ki his chair.
"Think of the little movements," said Betsy. "Pinching nipples, scratching with your fingernails. These things cause pain. But, during intercourse, they serve to heighten the pleasure. I am correct about that."
"Yes," said Sandra, dropping her gaze to the white, metal surface of the lawn table.
"So. You will be our slave for the entire time you are here. Perhaps you may choose not to leave, but just to stay on with us."
"That would hardly be possible," said Sandra. She turned to Betsy.
"You know as well as we do that we both have to be back at Miss Thomas's next week. This is only an interim vacation, after all."
"Well, that remains to be seen," said Betsy mysteriously.
"What is this slave business?" asked Sandra. "I certainly don't look the part of a slave now. And slaves don't eat in the main dining room." She forced herself to sound as sarcastic as possible.
"Well, we do believe in taking breaks," chuckled Val. "You won't constantly be under our command. Like now."
"So when will I be," asked Sandra.
"We'll tell you, don't worry about that," said Betsy.
"Anyone for a ride?" asked Val.
"I'm not dressed," began Sandra, staring down at the dress Betsy had given her.
"Your habit has been laid out for you, in your room. Why don't you change, and meet us by the stables?"
Sandra smiled as she pushed herself away from the table.
"Fine!" she said. She started walking back towards the house.
Val leaned back as he watched Sandra disappear into the house. He grinned as he turned to Betsy.
"Well, you said she would be difficult," he chuckled.
"But what do you think?" asked Betsy nervously.
Val paused before answering. "Perfect," he said.
Betsy leaned back in her chair with a smile. "So you think I've made the right choice, huh?"
"One-hundred per cent better than I had expected," said Val. "I was waiting for a flabby teenager with a pot belly. But she's, she's a model, for God's sake!"
"I think she's absolutely exquisite," said Betsy. "I just want to wrap my arms around her forever!"
"Ditto," intoned Val. "Well, let's get on with it. We have our work to do!"
They pushed themselves away from the table and walked back to the house to dress.
Sandra was admiring the horse that had been provided for her when they approached the stables.
"He's absolutely marvelous," she said, her voice a hushed whisper of awe. "He, he's the most beautiful horse I've ever seen!"
"Excuse me, please, miss."
Sandra stepped aside and the stable boy saddled the horse. Two other stable boys emerged, leading horses for Val and Betsy.
Sandra enjoyed the feel of the air whipping against her face as she galloped across the empty ground. She was beginning to feel better about her stay here. She decided that the events of the previous night were a sort of initiation, and that no further horrors would be dumped on her.
They returned after a two-hour ride. She slid off her horse, exhilarated.
"Swim time," said Val. Sandra went up to her room. A bikini swim suit was laid out for her, identical except for its color to the one provided the day before.
She quickly wriggled out of her riding habit. A maid entered, and gathered up the garments. She stood to one side as Sandra pulled off the bra and panties that had been given her.
"Allow me, please, miss," said the maid, as Sandra clamped the top to her breasts.
The maid stepped up behind her and tied the top tightly to her back. Sandra slid into the bottoms. The maid gathered up her discarded clothing and left without saying a word.
Sandra walked down to the pool area. She felt uncomfortable at first about walking through the living room dressed in the bikini. But then she remembered with a shudder that she had walked through the same room naked just the night before.
She shrugged, and walked out to the pool area. Val and Betsy waved to her as she approached.
"So. I see you're dressed today," she said.
"This is today," replied Betsy with a grin.
Sandra dove into the pool and quickly swam its length. Her long, lean arms cut beautiful strokes through the water as she swam.
"Now?" whispered Betsy to Val.
"Yes," he whispered in reply.
Sandra stepped up onto the tiled walk around. She walked back over to where Val and Betsy were lounging on pool side chairs.
"That was refreshing," she smiled. She stepped up to an empty chair. "Don't sit," said Val.
She turned her head sharply around and glared at him.
"And why not?" she said icily.
"Because you haven't been told to," said Betsy. "You are now under command again."
"Well, I can certainly sit down if I want to!"
Sandra angrily plunked her buttocks down on the seat of the chair.
Val climbed off his chair and walked over to her. He looked down at her with a kind smile. t "Up," he said. "You're disobeying again."
Sandra pulled herself to her feet, telling herself it was not because Val had told her to.
"Very well," she said, forcing a bored note into her voice to hide the fear creeping over her.
From the corner of her eye she could see one of the gardeners trimming some hedges about twenty yards away from the pool. The man was working himself nearer and nearer to where she was standing.
"Undress," said Val.
She looked at him with disbelieving eyes.. "I most certainly will not," she said coolly. "There happens to be a servant right near by."
"That is a command," smiled Val. "No," said Sandra.
Val dashed forward and pinned her arms to her sides. Betsy stepped up behind her and untied the top of her bikini. The top tumbled off the smooth, white plane of Sandra's torso.
Betsy crouched down and hooked her fingers under the waistband of her pajama bottoms. She jerked them down Sandra's thighs and left them in a crumpled heap around Sandra's ankles.
Val released her arms. Sandra swooped down to pick up the bottoms. Val pushed her, and she almost fell over backwards. She took a quick step, and stepped out of her bottoms.
"There! Now you're undressed," said Val. "You won't be wearing any clothes for a while, so you might as well get used to being naked."
Val stepped back and wriggled out of his briefs. His member became instantly erect.
"Now watch Betsy," he said.
Betsy minced up to him and dropped down to her knees. She grasped his bare hips tightly, then bent forward and kissed his member.
Sandra watched with disgust as she performed fellatio on him. Betsy leaned back and stood up. From the swallowing motions of her throat, Sandra saw that she was swallowing down his issue.
Sandra grimaced with disgust.
"Now for your punishment," said Val.
"Punishment for what!" said Sandra angrily. She planted her hands on her naked hips and glared at him.
Val stepped over to her and shoved his hand between the tops of her thighs. She angrily slapped his wrist away.
"I must say, you have a hell of a nerve," she snarled.
Val laughed and grasped her firmly around her waist. Sandra started to kick at him. He lifted her, and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Sandra was again amazed at his strength.
"Where do you think you're taking me?" she barked angrily.
Val carried her swiftly across the lawn. He plunked her down in the soft grass.
"Stay right there and don't move," he said.
Sandra clasped her arms tightly over her naked breasts. She felt suddenly quite uneasy about being naked in the middle of the grounds. She sat up and bent forward so that she could cover her pubic hair with her stomach.
Val darted away. Betsy stretched herself out next to her.
"Please tell what the meaning of this is," said Sandra. Her voice was filled with anger.
"Well, you did disobey," said Betsy. "Val is going to punish you."
Val returned a few minutes later, fully dressed. Sandra gasped angrily as she stared at the shirt and tie he was wearing over a pair of slacks.
"And you intend to keep me naked like this I suppose," she said.
"Right. Slaves don't have the right to wear clothes. Your body must be accessible at all times."
Val dropped a small canvas bag he was carrying. Sandra eyed the bag suspiciously.
"What's that?" she scowled.
"Part of your punishment," chuckled Val.
"There simply isn't--going to be any punishment," spat out Sandra. She wrapped her arms tightly around her legs.
Val reached down and grabbed her shoulders. She yelped as he pulled her roughly to her feet
"Come along," he said, grasping her wrist.
Sandra stumbled as she followed behind him. Betsy walked behind her. She gasped with horror as she saw where Val was taking her.
"You, you're not going to put me in that thing!" she shrieked.
She stared fearfully at a large dog house. If was built like the stereotypical dog house, with a slanting roof and rough wooden walls. The! words, 'Dog House' were written just above it's door.
The roof was covered with sharp spikes.
"Hand me the bag, won't you?" asked Val.
Betsy stepped up to him with the canvas bag. She set it down, and unzipped its top.
She reached into the bag as Sandra watched.
"Oh, no!" cried Sandra. "Not, not that!"
Betsy kept smiling as she pulled out a wooden board. Two thick- iron rings were implanted in the rough surface of the board. Val seized one of Sandra's wrists and shoved it through one of the iron rings. She tried to jerk her arm away from him, but he quickly grasped her free arm and shoved it through the other ring.
"Stop this," cried Sandra.
The rough surface of the board pressed cruelly against the soft skin of her naked back. Her elbows ached from the tight press of the iron rings. She tried to move her arms, but found herself hurting all the more.
Her hands were now bound behind her back. Betsy pulled something else out of the bag.
"What are those?" wailed Sandra.
Betsy was holding something that looked like a pair of handcuffs. But instead of the usual stainless-steel bracelets, the cuffs of Val's instrument were made of evil-looking wrought iron. And the cuffs were joined by an iron bar.
Val clasped the iron cuffs over Sandra's wrists. The rough iron grazed against her skin.
Val pressed his hand gently between her shoulder blades. He pushed her towards the doghouse.
"Stand right there," he said.
Sandra turned a hysterically angry gaze to him.
"I demand to be released right now!" she barked.
"Slaves--don't demand," said Betsy quietly. Sandra turned to her sharply, preparing a blistering retort. But Val dropped down to a low crouch, interrupting her.
He pulled a length of coarse rope out of the doghouse. He looped one end quickly between her thighs, and pulled until the coarse fiber was grazing against the lips of her vagina.
"Stop that! Take this thing away!" barked Sandra, wriggling from side to side to nullify the burning, itching pain the rope was causing her.
Val tugged, and the rope pushed its way Ho her orifice. He looped the end over the bar binding her wrists.
"Get in there," he said sharply.
"I'm not going-"
She was interrupted by a tug on the rope that made her whole body explode with torment.
"All right, all right," she said, a note of whining desperation in her voice.
She knelt down, then leaned her head back and screamed.
"Oh, god, no!" she cried. "You, you're ruining-"
"We aren't about to ruin a thing," said Betsy. "We love you. And besides, what would we have to play with?"
"I won't let you touch me," said Sandra through clenched tseth.
Betsy stepped up to her and tweaked her nipples gently between her thumbs and forefingers. Sandra shivered. Betsy withdrew her fingers slowly, and stepped back with a smile.
"You wouldn't do that if I had my hands free," snarled Sandra.
Val glanced at Betsy. "Take off your clothes," he said to her.
Betsy immediately wriggled out of her swimsuit.
Val pointed to the small door of the dog house.
"In," he said.
Sandra glared at him, then crouched down. The rope bit painfully into the flesh of her private area, and she whimpered.
"Don't, don't make me go in there," she said.
Val just looked at her. She turned a frightened glance to him.
"Oh all fours, now," said Val.
She dropped to all fours, gasping at the fiery-hot pain the motion produced in her.
She slowly crawled into the house. Val maintained his tight grip on the rope.
Val watched as she dragged herself into the small, cramped space. She whimpered again as she vainly tried to find a comfortable position to keep herself in. Val gave the rope another tug.
"Why, why, why?" screamed Sandra.
"You're being punished," said Betsy.
Sandra experimented, twisting her body around and screaming at the pain shooting through her arms and groin. She settled herself into a crouching position. Her knees were bent, and beginning to ache. But she couldn't straighten up, because of the extremely low ceiling of the dog house. And she couldn't stretch out her legs and sit, because the rope would sink into the tender flesh of her womb. Her back was facing the door. Val pulled on the rope, then tied it tightly around the bar binding her wrists. He made a good, tight, expert knot, then stepped away.
"Think about the consequences of disobeying while you're there," he said. "Betsy's going to be punished now, too."
Sandra counted slowly to thirty. When she was sure they had left the area, She started to twist herself around, trying to free herself. But each movement made her body flower with pain.
She was stuck.
She was much too tall for the dog house.
Her shoulders pressed against the rough wooden walls. The top of her head nestled just under the slanted roof. Her shoulder blades pressed painfully against the front wall. Her knees were being grazed raw by the rough wood of the house's rear wall. And her arms ached.
The ache started slowly, at her elbows where the metal edge of the upper bracelets dug into her skin. It spread up her arms, then down her torso until she felt that she was just one big pain.
She decided to yell, hoping to attract a sympathetic servant. She leaned head back, wincing at the way the roofs boards grabbed at strands of her long, blond hair.
"Hey, help!" she cried out. "Help, help, help!"
She saw a shadow cross the beams of sunlight streaming into the house and sighed with relief.
"Was that you calling, miss?" asked a young man politely.
Sandra was unable to turn her head far enough around to see him.
"Yes," she said, as calmly as she could. "Please take me out of this."
"Sorry, miss," replied the voice. "But, but you just can't let someone stay like this," she cried out.
"I'd lose my job, miss. Sorry." He stepped quickly away and went about his work. Sandra cursed him under her breath. Her feet began to grow numb. She panicked and kicked her legs out. She fell to a sitting position. The coarse rope cut into the flesh between the cheeks of her bare buttocks,' and crawled in between the lips of her vagina.
"Owwww!" she screamed, thrashing around to fight off the horrible, stinging agony.
Her movements made the iron bracelets cut into her wrists and elbows. She started to moan softly, and settled her bare buttocks on the dirt floor of the house.
Which was the wrong move.
She jerked herself up as her groin caught fire. The rope slipped down, easing the torment somewhat. Twisting and fighting against the terrible pain in her arms, she returned herself to her original position.
But the rope was caught around the right lip of her vagina. She spread her legs apart, grinding her knees against the rough walls of the dog house. She gasped with relief as the rope slipped down.
She felt a momentary relief as the pain in her crotch lessened. Then her other agonies crept up on her.
She began to wonder when she would be released. She started to whimper softly, but gave up as despair crept over her.
She didn't see Val's shadow as he stepped up to the house.
"Hello," he said cheerfully.
She jerked her head up, then grunted at the pain the motion produced. Val crouched down and seized the end of the rope.
"No, don't pull it, please!" she cried out.
Val reached into the house and untied the knot around the bar binding her arms.
She cried out with relief as the rope dropped down out of her crotch. Val gently grasped her waist, and helped her ease herself out of the dog house.
She turned around, and he unclasped the iron bracelets around her wrists. She stretched her arms up in back of her, and he slid off the board.