Amanda's Seventh Slave

I took my time in the shower though feeling some anxiety. When I came out of the bathroom I was disappointed but not entirely surprised. His clothes were gone and there was no sign of Shawn other than the puddle of cum on the floor. But my gut instinct told me where I would likely find him.

I drove to the campus and parked near the chapel. I slipped into the front door and through the small foyer. Shawn was kneeling in a pew at the front corner near the confessional booth waiting with some others for his turn. A young man emerged from the booth and Shawn got up to take his place. I could see his faith still had a hold on him and this was going to be more of a challenge than I had anticipated. That was fine with me because his eventual surrender was a foregone conclusion and I was filled with the thrill of the chase.

I began stalking him again and found he had taken to going for long walks at dawn through a wooded parkway that ran along a creek not far from the campus. I knew his desires would be tormenting him once his young male body reasserted itself and the walks were meant to help ease his longing. No man tastes my pussy without a permanent lingering effect and he had imbibed heavily from me.

I explored the parkway, looking for a place to waylay him on one of his walks. There was a place along the paved trail where another small dirt path led through a large dense thicket to where a big oak tree stood in a small clearing. There were a few beer bottles lying around the clearing that told the tail of the path's purpose. One morning I put on a baggy calf length, olive green sundress with nothing on underneath and lay in wait for Shawn on the path, concealed in the shadows of the dense thicket.

I saw him coming and ambushed him, stepping out from the bushes into his path within arm's length. He stopped, openmouthed, looked about as if seeking escape. But I took his hand, placed it on my breast and felt him yield. I led him down the path to the oak tree, backed myself up to it and drew him close. He wore just gym shorts and a T shirt. I reached down to his groin and found him stiff as wood. With the other hand I grabbed his hair, pulled his head back and ravished him with a deep invasive kiss that left no doubt that he was mine. And then...

"Get on your knees Shawn!"

He dropped as if his knees had turned to jelly and I raised my skirt and covered him with it. I knew my scent would fill the small space with predictable effect. Sure enough, I felt his tongue probing between my thighs and I leaned back on the tree and parted them wide. My heart hammered, and I tingled head to toe at the thrill of his surrender. I was ready, and he knew it. A scant minute of his tongue on my orb set me off and a fierce cry of ecstasy was torn from my depths. It echoed in the silence of the morn. I thanked the Goddess it was early, and the parkway was deserted but for the two of us.

Taking him by the hand I led him back to my car and put him in the back seat for the ride home. On the way I called my secretary to have her cancel my morning appointments. Shawn was going to get another good dose of my essence and soon. I took him to the bedroom, stripped us both and laid down on my back, drawing him to my pussy by grabbing his forelock.

I made him serve me until noon, alternating between cunnilingus and rimming, spending most of the time astride his face so my juices would be fed to him liberally. Then, as punishment for his resistance I stroked his hard member until just the brink of coming and then gave it a harsh slap to make him limp, so I could install a cage, this one a more punitive version with sharp internal spikes. I clapped him into the cell and went to my office for an urgent appointment with a gang rape victim.

That evening I enjoyed his oral attentions again until bedtime and had him sleep under the covers. The next morning, I again made him serve me before releasing him from the cage and watching while he masturbated. Coming wilted him as it had the last time. Again, I left the room to shower, leaving him kneeling there and again when I emerged from the bathroom he was gone. This was getting to be annoying. I resolved to break his resistance once and for all in our next encounter and then there would be punishment.

It was back to stalking. Now, instead of going out walking early he went to a gym and used the treadmill and other apparatus vigorously. He was probably taking cold showers too. Then he would make his way to the chapel and kneel at the foot of the altar with head bowed. I slipped in to watch him and reconnoiter for several mornings before making my move. The chapel tended to be empty except for Shawn at those hours and that morning was no exception. The door was always kept open for the faithful and well before Shawn arrived I went inside and hid behind the altar.

I heard the door opening and closing and his footsteps on the floor as he approached. I peered around the corner and saw him kneeling with head down as always. He wore khaki cargo shorts with a blue golf shirt and sandals.

I was barefoot and wearing a short back dress with nothing on underneath. I slipped from the dress and sneaked around the altar, stooping low until I got to the middle, then levered myself up to sit on the edge with my legs apart. The motion caught his eye and he looked up to see me there, animal naked, with a leer on my face, exhibiting my womanhood lewd as could be on the altar of his false god. The bulge in his shorts belied his next words.

"Amanda! How dare you come in here like that? This is a house of worship!"

"Worship indeed Shawn, but not the kind you are thinking. You don't fool me. Your pants tell the tale. Now come here and worship in the way we both know you want to!"

I spoke in my "command voice", a tone I had mastered after long practice with a Network member who is also a hypnotist. That and the sight of my splendid nudity broke his will. His eyes riveted on my pussy as a look of desperate longing came to them and he groveled up the altar steps to me.

I shifted forward to offer myself, leaving a smear of my wet on the pure white altar cloth. My cunt throbbed and tingled as he drew near, and my pulse and breath raced. The first touch of his tongue, his adoring hunger as he served me, told me this time his resistance was at its end. And once more the serving was brief but powerful and my orgasmic wail echoed in the chapel as my gush overflowed his mouth and sent rivulets flowing down the altar cloth. I dismounted the altar, well satisfied with my desecration of this temple of error. I could only imagine the look on the face of the priest who would first see the sullied altar cloth. I retrieved my dress, put it on and led him out a side door to the car.

I took him to the chamber when we got to the house because, regardless of his surrender, such stubborn resistance warranted punishment. He would have to suffer under the whip for a while before I took him to my bed again. I would not be as cruel as I can be, but he would get a stern lesson.

I strung him up naked by the wrists from the mechanical hoist in the center of the chamber with ankles bound tight and on his tiptoes. He was meek and compliant in allowing me to prepare him for his punishment. Along the wall was a collection of whips hung on hooks. I selected a six-foot snake whip and turned to face him. Fear showed in his eyes and I felt wet warmth between my legs. A sound whipping never fails to excite. I decided to whip him until I made him cry and then make him serve me under threat of further punishment if I sensed a lack of penitence and my orgasm was substandard.

My whipping skills are finely honed from years of practice. A snake whip wielded by a strong arm can inflict searing pain with just a flick of the wrist and a skilled flagellist can whirl the whip continuously and inflict lashes at every turn without interruption for extended periods. I stepped behind him to start, set the whip to whirling in a blur above my head and with each rotation flicked my wrist to put the leather to the flesh. Shawn cried out with every stinging lash and hopped helplessly about in a most amusing dance.

I worked my way around him, leaving pink stripes where ever the lashes struck. He tried to be brave at first but soon gave in to the pain and pleaded for mercy. This only incited me, and the lashes struck him harder and faster. He fell to sniveling and whimpering, but I wanted abject sobbing. He just wouldn't break, and I decided my wrath had to fall upon his tender privates.

I can split a scrotum wide open with one lash if I choose to, but mercy was in order, so I pulled my strokes to the cock and balls to merely inflict unbearable pain. Half a dozen lashes broke him down to tears and I dropped my whip. I lowered him but kept him bound, letting out enough slack in the cable to let me drag him over to my throne. I placed him on his knees before it and sat down with ankles resting on the arms, offering myself to be served. Grabbing his hair, I held his face inches from my cunt and gave him stern warning of the consequences of failure to please and show remorse.

He pleasured me well enough but my annoyance with him lingered so I hauled him aloft for another round. He broke down more quickly this time and I took satisfaction from the pathetic desperation I felt from him as he pleasured me. Satisfied that I had established firm authority I took him to the bedroom and put him in the cell for the rest of the day with the punitive cage on his organ. I still had appointments that afternoon but at day's end I took him to bed for the night. His training would begin in earnest the next day.

The Network has strict standards for slave training and performance. Slaves are shared and swapped among members and certain minimum expectations have to be met. Even though I thought Shawn was rare and special, I could not, in good conscience, spare him the rigors of the training regimen or the dire consequences should he fail.

The next morning, I had him kneel in the bedroom and went to fetch erstwhile slave number 3. I led him into the room by a leash clipped to his cock ring. Shawn turned pale at the sight of the eunuch's limp and shriveled dick dangling over the nothingness where his balls had been. What better way to let him know what kind of woman now ruled his life? He had to fear and adore me in equal measure and I could tell the message was received loud and clear. I led 3 away and made him clean a bathroom and came back to begin Shawn's indoctrination. I sat in a big armchair next to the bed with him kneeling before me, his cock still in its cage.

"What are you feeling and thinking Shawn?"

"I'm scared Amanda..."

"Mistress Amanda!"

"Yes...Mistress."

"Do you love me Shawn?"

"Oh yes Mistress! I have from the first moment I saw you, but I was in denial. I was yours the first time I...tasted you. It was so foolish of me to resist."

"Yes Shawn. It was both foolish and futile. Immediate surrender was your best option. But, I must admit you did make things quite exciting and pleasurable for me. You do understand that I intend to make you my slave?"

"Yes Mistress."

"Do you want to be my slave Shawn?"

"Yes Mistress! I want so much to please you! I'll do anything!"

"We have barely scratched the surface of what it will take for you to truly please me Shawn. As we go along you will learn the real definition of 'anything'. Much rigorous training lies ahead of you. You have 90 days to complete it and should you fail...well, you saw what happened to the gentleman I introduced you to earlier. But don't be afraid. I know you have it in you to be an exceptional slave. You have given me exquisite pleasure already. And when your training is complete you will be rewarded in a way that must remain a secret for now."

I leaned forward and released him from the device, watching with satisfaction as his erection rose and precum glistened at his tip.

"Do your balls ache Shawn?"

"Yes Mistress! I feel such desire when I see you naked like this and when I taste you. It hurts so bad!"

"You will ache for long periods of time Shawn, but I will grant you release from time to time. Would you like release now?"

"Yes Mistress! Please!"

"Then come close to me. Right up between my legs."

He knee-walked toward me until he knelt between my spread thighs and his member nearly touched my cunt.

"Now Shawn, use your hand. You know what to do. You may come, and you may enjoy it. This will be your last chance for quite some time. And you will ejaculate onto me down there."

His had went to his cock with shameless eagerness and after perhaps twenty strokes his eyes glazed, and he grunted in pleasure as thick spurts of semen splattered all over my mount and labia. He sagged and wilted from the power of his release and I grabbed his hair and held him inches from my sullied cunt. I spoke in the dominant tone of command he would hear more than any other in the future that awaited him.

"Now you will lick up your mess and give me pleasure slave!"

The next day Shawn's training regimen began. He was confined to his cell with the device on his organ during the nights. First thing in the morning I would take him to my chamber and put him through an hour of rimming practice. Every Mistress has a very special piece of furniture, a padded horse with knee rests along the sides that allows her to settle in comfortably and present her ass to be serviced by a slave's tongue. Behind the horse is a steel ball vise operated by a button on the front of the horse. Clamp the slave's balls in the vise and he can be squeezed quite painfully, though it will not crush the balls.

I would put him on his knees behind the horse, cuff his hands behind his back, put his balls in the jaws. He submitted so meekly now to everything I wished to subject him to. I settled myself on the horse and ordered him to begin. He would lick delightfully, with all his might at first, but then tongue fatigue would set in and my pleasure would wane. A finger on the button would provide motivation as the cruel jaws tightened. My pleasure would be resumed, and my finger would naturally ease off the button as I passed into the rapture proper rimming will always bring. But he would tire again, and the button would be pressed. The goal was a tireless tongue that could keep me in the rapture indefinitely. At the end of the hour I would be aroused unbearably, so I would make him switch to my clit and bring me to orgasm.

After rimming practice, I would take him back to his cell to lock him away for the morning. I always had appointments, at least on weekdays. While confined he was to practice the tongue lengthening yoga for the rest of the morning. At lunch time I would take him back to the chamber and mount my horse with him behind and clamped. I liked to bring my lunch with me to enjoy while he rimmed me. Then, it was orgasm again and back to the cell for more tongue yoga until the end of the workday.

Before supper I would have him rim for another hour and put him away for the night. More tongue yoga was required until bedtime at ten o'clock.

While all this was going on a potentially serious problem developed.

Shawn was now my captive, though a willing one. But he would be missed by the people who knew him and after a period of time the matter might be turned over to the police. Fortunately, my private eye friend Greta is an expert at "disappearing" people. She has all manner of tricks up her sleeve to make it look as if a man has set out for parts unknown of his own accord, often with evidence of having embezzled money. She will even fake a man's death to throw the authorities off the scent. I asked her to take care of matters regarding Shawn but didn't need or want to know the details. All I know is that nobody came sniffing around and looking for him...at first.

Then, one day I was in my office alone and engrossed in a psych report I was writing on my computer when I heard a low pitched and imperious female voice:

"Excuse me!"

I looked up to see a badge close before my eyes and behind it the stern and suspicious face of an attractive black woman with a short Afro hairdo. She was of middle height and shapely in a muscular way, wearing a close-fitting charcoal gray pants suit. Her skin was the shade of dark chocolate. Beside and behind her stood a young, fair skinned, tow headed, blue eyed man, who sparked my predatory lust at the sight of him. And his eyes strayed to the sergeant's behind moment to moment and there was a telltale bulge in his pants. I caught him at it and he blushed and fidgeted. I let fall no hint to the sergeant but filed it away mentally.

"Yes...officer? Can I help you?"

"That would be detective sergeant Marva Charles from the missing persons squad. This is trainee detective Jason Miles. We are investigating the disappearance of one Shawn Larkin. Some surveillance footage from a coffee shop and elsewhere shows you in his company at multiple times. He was seen going into and out of your office as well."

I knew there was no way to deny that. And her manner was hostile and aggressive.

"Yes, detective Charles, I know Shawn. I was helping him on, shall we say, a pro bono basis with some issues he was having. He was torn by uncertainty about whether or not to join the priesthood. Such a sweet young man! So sensitive and sincere. He was short of money, but I just had to help. What happened to him?"

"We're not sure. He sent a suicide email to his parents and a few others, but his family and friends refuse to accept it. He might have just wanted to disappear for personal reasons, but we haven't ruled out kidnapping. Make no mistake, you are a suspect, Dr. Blake. It seems you have been in the company of other young men who have disappeared as well."

"That's just circumstantial detective. I have helped other young men, and women too and I don't always confine things to my office."

"We'll see about that Dr. Blake. You should know I am relentless and will be prying into everything the law allows and I might be back with a search warrant for your office and your home at some time. Good day!"

She tossed her card on my desk, turned on her heel to leave and barked at her partner.

"Let's go Miles! Move your ass! Go get the car and bring it to the door!"

He scurried off in a way that suggested habitual obedience and being much under her thumb.

She left, turning back for one last dirty and suspicious glare. I knew I had a big problem that would have to be dealt with proactively. Resistance to that harridan would only provoke her. But, I am an astute reader of people and the chink in her armor had been obvious to me from her first words: sexual frustration. Detective sergeant Charles was obviously a woman in desperate need of having her pussy eaten properly. And I would not resist her but recruit her.

My plan for dealing with her was simple, direct, and very risky. But I was sure of my ground. A couple of days after her visit I called her, pretending to have information about Shawn. We agreed to meet in my office the next morning. I took slave 4 to work with me that morning and I wore my short black dress with nothing on underneath. I stationed 4 under my desk and waited for Marva to arrive. When she did I invited her to sit in a big leather arm chair I had placed in front of my desk. After some brief and insincere pleasantries, I made my move.

I reached under the desk and grabbed 4 by the hair, pushed my chair back and hiked up my skirt. I tugged 4's face into my cunt in Marva's plain sight and put him to serving me. The thrill of the moment made me come quickly and hard. It was the moment of truth and I got the response I expected, shock at first, but then a riveted stare that shouted lust and longing. Marva just gaped, and her hand strayed between her legs. She wore a tweed suit with a skirt that day. I looked at her with a lewd gleam in my eyes.