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Breaking a pet

He chuckled at the sound of her moan, the gyration of her hips. Though she stifled her noises, her body couldn't stop reacting, and it was gratifying to see her so responsive. Once again, he marveled at how much of a natural she was; with this latest discovery, he couldn't think of a single slave he'd trained in the past who had demonstrated such aptitude for these activities! And had she been a free woman, her aptitudes might never have been discovered; perhaps she would have felt something missing, some curiosity here and there, but without his training to actually force her to confront these feelings and attempt these tasks, she might never have explored further. In a way, her voyage into servitude was also a voyage of self-discovery, a sexual odyssey. And what discoveries she had yet to make...

He moved beside her without a word, and began to cane her lightly. The instrument was light and while it was in no danger of breaking, it couldn't possibly strike her hard enough to even bruise her. But it left a nice red line on her skin, and a memorable sting in her nerve endings. He crisscrossed the soft parts of her buttocks and thighs with lines, at a measured, steady pace, and after the first few strikes, he reached under her hips and began to gently rub her clit once more, adding that extra sensation to her experience, either confusing her senses or adding to the intensity of the pleasure, depending on how she was really constructed. He was fairly certain she would be orgasming soon, but he was willing to keep going, regardless. It was, after all, his job.
 
He chuckled, a noise that brough a humiliated flush to her cheeks. It felt so good, to be touched now... But the wiser part of her grinded her teeth at the thought of enjoying this. Even if it made her life as a slave easier.... What kind of twisted woman enjoyed being violated and beated?

But she still gave a quiet disapointed sound as he pulled away the cane, slightly damp now from her juices. He moved, and without a word warning the cane whipped through the air, and landed sharply on her skin. She yelped, arching against it but composed herself for the rest of the blows. The pain was not bad, but unexpected. She didn't know where the next blow would land.... On her back? Thighs? Ass? Everywhere it landed erupted into a burning sting, which made her want to groan softly.

But when he reached under her, playing again with her clit gently she couldn't help but to grind to his hand. It felt... Magnificent... Against the burning, the sting... It made every wave of pleasure more intense by comparison, and as the sensations mixed her eyes glazed over, and she panted softly, moans escaping her lips. "I... Can't take it." She gasped quietly, her juices running down the inside of her thighs as she got close, too close, to release. "Please... No more... I can't take it..."
 
"We can always take more than we think we can," he said philosophically, "And you forgot to use an honorific. But in your state I'll forgive you." He paused, whipping her twice more with the cane in the meantime. "But what is there to take? I'm not asking you to do anything but endure. If you feel so moved to orgasm, then do so."

He said it casually, as if it was common knowledge, but he did enjoy how she was fighting it, how she was clearly on the cusp, her body begging for release, but she was holding herself back. The denial exercises would be excellent, when they got there.

He redoubled his efforts on her clit while keeping the switch swinging steadily, unhurried. "If you don't want a release, I can stop..."
 
She gasped again as he teased her more, his fingers expertly teasing and prodding at her clit. "I... Cant orgasm." She cried, trying to hold off. "Please... Master... Please I can't orgasm from this..." She moand, but didn't want him to stop, her hips kept grinding into his hand as she moaned, pressing her clit harder against his fingers, feeling as they rubbed her again and again, the sting of the cane almost too much to bear.

She gasped again, panting hard as she came close. "Master..." She moaned again, squirming as he touched her. "I... I want it..." Her voice came out choked and broken, desperate for the release he offered her. She teetered on the edge now... Every blow driving her up until finally one last hit drove her over the edge.

If he struck her through her orgasm she didn't notice... The waves of estacy too intense to focus on anything... Not the ppulling of her arms, the pain of the stings... She could only gasp, pant, scream as pleasure coursed through her, different, and in many ways more intense than what she had felt before.
 
She came like an explosion, and he was impressed enough he forgot to cane her for a moment. His fingers kept moving automatically, extending the pleasure, drawing it out, but it wasn't until she seemed to be coming down a bit that he remembered, and tapped her again, seeing if that would send her up on another peak.

He stretched it out as far as she could go, until she was exhausted, hanging so bonelessly in the ropes he was honestly fearful for her shoulder joints. It was nothing the collar couldn't fix, but even still... And he'd already caned her far more than he had intended as an introduction. It's just that when she started to react so strongly, he couldn't stop. It was more important to let her ride it to her first masochistic orgasm, as that climax would have much longer-reaching ramifications than any other training he could do right then.

So when she finished, and he put down the cane, he quickly loosed the winch, allowing her to sink to her knees, her overstressed shoulders no-doubt complaining even more intensely now that they were allowed to relax. As boneless as she was, she might collapse all the way to her face on the ground, but he didn't unwinch her quite that far, instead moving to her and manually lifting up her upper body and untying her hands from the rope. He propped her in his arms, looked her in her flushed face, and asked quietly, seriously, "Now, who is the Master in this situation? Address me as such."
 
The orgasm was so intense it made her shake and scream in pleasure, her juices flowing down her thighs, soaking her. She went up again as the pain spiked, and it ade her tremble, gasping, writhing in the ropes until they dug into her flesh. It was so intense she forgot her vow to not call him Master when he beat her, calling out his title, Master, again and again until it was over, and she hung completely limp from the bindings.

She panted softly, her face still hlding the pleasure striken glazed look as he lowered her, her arms screaming against the sudden freedom as she sank into the floor. She half expected him to leave her there, to lay her in the bindings on the ground... Instead she found herself in his arms, as he untied her hands and held her. She stared up at his, red, humiliated, but utterly drained. "M... Master." She finally choked out, her eyes never leaving his. "You are my Master..."
 
She watched him carefully, his his eyes locked onto hers as he reached for something. She didn't even have the energy to tense, wondering what it could be... Her eyes widened slightly as he pulled out the apple, still juicy, tantilizing, delicious looking, and held it to her lips. She watched him carefully as she took a fairly large bite, flavor exploding in her mouth, the juice quenxhing her thirst. She savored it, chewing slowly, before swallowing, and giving the man a grateful smile. "Thank you... Master." She whispered, still not liking calling him as such.... But he was being kind now, which quelled some of the bitterness.
 
"Now, see? That's not so bad. Just a word, just the expected lines in the play of your life at this point. It doesn't mean you believe, it just means you're learning not to make waves." He looked at her again, his eyes somehow softer, as they had been all through her eating the bite. "Tell me, do you feel any different, for having used that title? Aren't you the same prideful stubborn woman you've always been?" Here he winked and grinned a bit to show he was teasing her. "Of course you are. It doesn't matter what you say as much as who you are."

There was truth to that, and... there wasn't. The relationship between words and belief was tricky, and he knew this. A large part of his work with her on the slave mindset was going to involve repetition of words and their psychological effect. But that was for later; this, now, was about getting her used to using the words before they even had a chance to work, a necessary precursor. So he smiled and hoped it would sink in.

He checked her wrists; they were still bound together, albeit free from the winch, and so her arms were still pinned behind her. He reached to the side and got more rope, and tied her arms just above the elbow, as well, drawing her shoulders back once again. In a way, it was kind of a relief for her muscles, being pulled back as they had been, yet not quite so severely. It also utterly immobilized her arms and caused her breasts to thrust forward. Once that was done, he straightened again and got to his feet, leaving her on her knees yet.

"Now, again, it's time to 'thank' your owner." He was still naked, and his semi-hard cock was right about at mouth level.
 
Was he teasing her, insulting her intellegence? She wasn't sure at this point. What she did know was that if a lie was told often enough, the liar might begin to believe it... She knew this, anyone with her level of education knew that... Did he think that acting as though words were only words would trick her... If he did... Perhaps she could trick him back.

He grabbed a length oc hord, pulling her arms back to bind them along with her wrists. It was an almost immediate relief to her sore shoulders, and she sighed, settling back as she watched him.

He stood in front of her, cock only half erect and at a perfect level that she only had to lean forward. Her tongue brushed over him, dancing over the head of his cock before longer, firmer stokes under him, trying to stimulate him hard for when she took him into her mouth, and began bobbing once more. It was considerably more difficult with her arms bound, having to stay steady, relying completely on her mouth to pleasure him. But she was determined now to pleasure him. Even if he had told her that a full blowjob was not necissary... Unless he told her to stop, she had no plans to.
 
He let her get him hard for a few minutes, luxuriating in the caress of her talented mouth, but when she began to work on him in earnest, a few twinges of soreness reminded him he'd already overindulged today, so after only a few minutes, he stopped her. "That's sufficient. You're doing a great job, but I still need a break."

He pulled away from her, and gazed at her a moment, her arms securely bound like that. If he had a leather sleeve to slide over those arms, she'd look professional, but that kind of fine leather didn't hold up well at sea; cords would do fine.

"All right, ready position, as best you can with those arms bound." He picked up the flogger again. "I expect you not to move." With that, he delivered an experimental, not particularly hard blow with the flogger right across her chest, tagging both breasts with the wide, flat strands of the flogger. Given her breakthrough, he wasn't sure whether she'd put up with it or flinch away, but he was betting on the standing up for it.
 
She sucked and licked on him for a good few minutes, almost enjoying bringing him pleasure. Her tongue swirled around him, tasting every inch of skin, the slight edge of sweat, the salt from the spray of the sea. She was almost disapointed when he pulled away, to her surprise. As much as she dispised being used as a pet, a sex item, she found more and more she loved the sexual experiece, the act of giving someone pleasure.

She nodded slightly when he ordered her into ready, propping up on her knees, back erect, head high but eyes slightly downcast. If he wanted her to act like a slavegirl, she would do it... But she would do it of her own will, she vowed. Perhaps it would be easier to endure like that.

The flogger hit her breasts, but she didn't move, not much anyway. A slight jump on impact, but otherwise ever stoic.
 
Janek laid into her breasts and stomach, painting red welts all over her creamy flesh. He judged her reactions after each strike, determining what he could do next. He locked eyes with her, and judged her reactions by her expression. At certain points, he would pause, and step up and massage her breasts, tweaking her nipples, tugging and rolling them with his fingertips. He paid particular attention to the sensitive undersides of her breasts when he laid on strokes with the flogger. He knew those were particularly sensitive in most women, and if he was to train her to endure, she'd have to endure that, too.

Finally, after she'd endured enough, he set the flogger down and knelt in front of her. "There now," he said soothingly. "That's all from the flogger today. As far as your introduction to it goes, you've done reasonably well. Here," he held the apple up to her lips again, a fresh part of it in front of her mouth. "Take a big bite. Again, you earned it." He stroked the side of her face with his free hand. She was doing better than reasonable, actually, but it didn't seem the time to go into it. He would be sure to let her know her performance evaluation later.
 
Each blow brought a small grunt, a slight intake of breath at the sharp pain of the flogger. Every few hits he would stop, and tease her nipples some, stroking her abused breasts, tweaking and pulling on the sensitive peaks. Again, the sensations seemed amplified by the throbbing burn if his flogger, until it seemed to her that there was nothing but the blissful marraige of pain, and pleasure.

When he finally put down the flogger she sighed, but didn't move, he hadn't told her she could move. Her endurance once again paid off when he put the apple to her lips once more. She took another large bite, once again feeling the wonderfully juicy explosion of flavor against her tongue. She chewed slower than the first bite, savoring the bite until she had to swallow, and she sighed, smiling up at her Master.
 
He took out the cane again, and this time, held it under her breasts, lifting them on the thin piece of wood as a prelude. He looked into her eyes to see her reaction as he slid the cane from side to side under her tender breasts, recently made so sensitive with his flogger work.

"I have told you before, and I tell you again... this is not for my pleasure. But I do enjoy seeing you react to it. I know your feelings are mixed about this, and that's understandable. You have a lot of conflict in your mind right now. But you need to learn to take this for your future. And I think... that's not necessarily a bad thing right now." He almost grinned as he said that.

Then he set to work on her with the cane, much as he'd done with the flogger. He caned her breasts, all over, and her belly, and her upper thighs as she stood on her knees. He did it steadily, deliberately, without rushing. And he took frequent pauses to manipulate and tease her breasts and, of course, her sex. He was careful not to bring her off, however. If she was going to orgasm from this treatment, at this point, it would be from within herself...
 
She shuddered as he ran the sooth wood under her welt-covered breasts. It made her swallow, small stabs of pain generated from the contact. She knew he was deliberately causing her pleasure, forcing her body to react to him how he wanted it to. But that knowledge didn't stop her nipples from stiffening, her the almost painful ache for him to be inside her again.

That she almost shook her head for. Was she craving him now? Impossible. No, she couldn't be, she refused to be. She had to remind herself of her of their position, and her honor. She was Elven, slave or not. She ciuld enjoy that which is meant to be enjoyed, but long for it? A shudder, she would not fall to that level of perversion.

She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she barely noticed him raising the cane, and almost jumped as it struck her already tender skin. It drew a gasp, and she jerked over so slightly, determined to stay utterly still. Perhaps then she would earn another bite of the apple, a meager prize for all the pain, but certainly better than none at all.

He manipulated her pleasure less this time around, but she was still panting fairly soon in. Each strike reminded her of the pleasure she felt, and spread the warmth in her sex. Her face took on that increadable look of pleasure she gained when in a masochistic bliss. Her eyes seemed to gaze off, her lips slightly parted, moaning and gasping with each strike.... Until it was too much.

The shock of this orgasm, the sheer unspeakable joy, it drove her up, before she crashed. It was like an explosion, her eyes wide, her entire body spasmed, shaking from the release. Without thinking she stumbled back on her knees, gasping for air as she struggled to not fall on her side.

When it was finally over, she was barely able to hold herself sitting on the floor, leaned over as far as her arm binding allowed, to gulp air into her lungs in hort pants. She still looked like she was in a state of bliss, the glazed over expression still very present on her lovely face, a line of drool running from the corner of her mouth, where it had escaped in the orgasm, and she was unable to wipe it away. "M... Master." She started between gasps, still shivering.
 
Janek was there, next to her, by the time her senses cleared, making shushing noises, stilling her further words. He helped support her, his strong arms encircling her and helping her find her balance again. He held her, bent forward, until her breathing recovered and her after-effect trembling ceased. He cautiously helped her sit back up on her heels, regaining a formal "resting" position, albeit one with her arms bound behind her.

"This is a very important moment," he murmured in her ear, so intimately. "You just climaxed from pain. Don't try to deny it; I did help warm you up, but the trigger was the cane."

"I want you to let that sink in a moment. You can achieve sexual release through pain stimulus." He paused, thinking. "This is not a bad thing, it is not wrong, it does not make you shameful or less of a woman... or an elf, I suppose. It simply means you have options for pleasure that many do not."

He wanted to frame it as a personal discovery, which, of course it was. The fact that it had secondary applications to her life as a slave was not insignificant, but it was ultimately secondary to the realization that she had to make about herself. In fact, if she could come to grips with the fact of her masochism, that would help her survival in the slave market immeasurably, and would make her life as a pleasure slave much easier on her, overall.

He leaned in a little closer to her exquisitely pointed ear, and his voice dropped to a whisper inaudible to humans. "Kaura," he breathed, warm against the shell of her ear, "it's all right to get enjoyment out of whatever you can. Every orgasm is a gift of life, no matter where it comes from."
 
She came down slowly, and one by one her senses shifted back to nromal. She realized she was being held, held close in powerful arms while her body slowly stilled, the intense waves of pleasure fading away until all she was left with was the dull ache of her welts.

Janek leaned back back, guiding her back into resting. Even now he only treated her as a slave she knew, a fact that kept her from meeting his eye as he spoke low into her ear. His breath made her shiver, sensual and close against her.

When he seemed finished, she voved slightly, just enough so she could look at him. Her eyes searched his face for any sign of remourse, caring... Anything that suggested he was not simply torturing her, and her orgasm was a pleasant result...

"What kind of curel joke is this?" She asked, her voice strained for calm. "That so many pleasures can be pulled from something so horrid to me?" She felt humiliated, and turned her face away, embarassed tears forming in her eyes. She wouldn't want anyone to see her sovunerable, so open.... Much less this man. "What fate has destined me to be this?"
 
His face did seem caring, in a way. The set of his mouth was professional, detached, remote, as he had to be for training, but his eyes did seem like it mattered to him what she was going through. When her humiliation took hold, his eyes changed to sadly sympathetic, although she couldn't see them. His arms were still around her; he didn't let go.

"It's not a joke. And it doesn't have to be horrid." His voice was calm and his tone tried for reassurance. "And it's my experience that there's no such thing as fate or destiny. Things happen, and we try to deal with them as best we can." He sighed a little, his breath against her ear again, but unintentionally. "It wasn't fate that led you to be captured, it was sheer bad luck. While I can't say I regret capturing you, I do sympathize that this is not a life change you would have asked for. But as the gamblers say, this is the hand you were dealt, and you have to play it as best you can, and wait for the chance to change your cards."

His hands gently stroked her back under her bound arms, now unblemished by even the tracery of pink welts. "I know you think on the long term, being an elf and immortal and all that," he sighed, "but can't you just live in the moment for a second and admit that you climaxed there? That what you experienced got you aroused enough to orgasm? I'm not judging, I'm not saying right or wrong, I'm just asking you to admit that it... worked for you. That's some self-knowledge that could be useful in the future. Can't you see that?"
 
Kaura let herself be held close in Jeanek's arms, resting her head at the base of his neck. She shook some, shame, fear, and even a twinge of anger churning inside of her, but she pushed down the emotions, focusing on his arms, and how secure she felt wrapped in them.

"I am afraid I prefer chess to card games." She managed at last, hoping the joke might lighten the mood. "But captain... How would I ever change my situation?" She asked. "Yes... I orgasmed..." She whispered it to him, as if a secret they shared between themselves. "And... I enjoyed it... I even... Think I want more..."

She shivered at that realization... Was she actually asking for more beatings? "But, I do not know if I want to spend eternity being forced to bed men, and getting beaten, even if... Even if I draw pleasure from it... Same... Same as I do not want to lay with the men on this ship." She whispered. "I feel so... Filthy just at the thought."
 
He held her as she shivered. "I know you don't. Few people actually want that sort of thing. But you see... that's one of the things you might have to face once you are sold. I'm trying to be a responsible trainer, and make sure you'll be ready to deal with that." He sighed. "It's not something I want to do to you, but it's something I'd rather you learn here, where it's safe, than try and deal with it on your own, where you might be hurt or killed for failure."

"We are strict, because that gets results, but we will not damage a slave beyond her ability to cope. I can't make that promise regarding anyone who might buy you." He held her a few minutes. The stripes on her flesh were fading even as he gazed at them. "I don't think you'll have to spend eternity as someone's plaything. Pleasure slaves are traditionally released at death, which is why you almost want to get bought by an old man. Only in rare cases are they resold or passed down to heirs, but even then, you can easily outlive any such heirs."

He stroked her gently some more. "I just want you to be able to deal with it if it happens. And you shouldn't feel filthy. It's not your fault. None of what you have to do as a slave is your fault. It's not your choice, so it can't be your fault. So you can enjoy it, if it's something pleasurable to you, without guilt. Do you see what I'm trying to say?"
 
It felt so comforting to be held like this... supported tenderly in Janeks arms, her cheek pressed against him. She sighed softly, and moved in as close as she could, her arms still bound behind her. A part of her, a wise part, warned against getting attached, forming a bond with this man who saw her as nothing more than merchandise to be sold. But, again her more immediate self was content to stay as she was, held close, tendery against him as he spoke low against her ear.

She shivered slightly at the sensation ."Not so close, Captain." She whispered, pulling her head back slightly, "I am senstive there..."

She was silent for a moment. "Do you think then..." She asked him, wanting an honest answer. "Do you think that I will be free again one day, Master?"
 
Janek nodded. "Someone as lovely and talented as you, I would normally say you could have a long and happy life as a pampered concubine, perhaps even become married to the man who bought you. Multiple wives and harems are legal in Scythia. But you will outlive any owner that buys you. I honestly believe that yes, you will eventually be freed, either through tradition or..." he paused, and his tone grew introspective against his will, "or because your owner comes to care about you enough that he frees you."

He shook himself out of whatever reverie he'd inadvertently slipped into. "In any case, yes, I believe you will be free again, one day. And then you can choose who to be with, who to call Master, or even Sir. Until then, I just want to be sure you can survive, that you know what you need to do and you know how to cope with anything that might be thrown at you. I want that for all the women I capture; you may argue that the practice isn't right, but as long as it continues, I want to be sure that the women I sell at least can cope with the lives they are given. I know you don't agree with my reasons in general, but in this particular aspect, can you see where I'm coming from? Can you see the logic in it?"

He held her gently, still letting her rest. Physically, he was sure she was recovering, but mentally, mentally she was still coming to grips both with her own reaction, and with the philosophy behind why he was subjecting her to all of this. If she knew the reasons behind it, he was sure she wouldn't give him nearly the trouble she might otherwise provide.
 
His words were a comfort to her, assuring her that one day she would have her freedom back. It seemed odd to her, given her lifespan now, to think of decades as short periods of time. She had near eternity to live, thousands of years before she began to grow old.... But, she was still young yet, and the time of servitude she would endure would be far longer than how long she has been alive so far.

She sighed, smiling slightly. "I suppose how long I am under the servitude of a master depends on me." She told him, looking up, and hesitated. "It was one proposition given to me, using magic to slow down aging. It doesn't stop it, but through regular healings and other tricks one I can extend the life of my.... Master... By decades, maybe longer. Keep their body looking young, fit, until the end..." She sighed, and looked down. "That.... Probably will attract many men who will want me for my magicks."

She chuckled slightly when he mentioned her avoidance of the term sir, and for once decided to be completely straightforward with him. "'Captain' and 'Master' are titles." She tols him evenly. "Discribing rank. You are a captain, you are my master. No matter who you are to me, how you are... Those are facts..." She didn't like the facts, but in the end she couldn't change them. "Sir.... That is a term of respect and admiration." She looked him in the eyes. "I understand your reasoning, and I appreciate that you are trying to prepare us... And me... For a long and hard life." Her voice dropped, quiet and almost remourseful. "I like you." She almost whispered, "But how we met, what you do... How you view me. I do not know if I can respect that, and I do not know if I can call you sir."
 
He remained impassive, as far as she could tell, when she admitted her affection for him. And he didn't let his own reaction (which confused him, given his position and profession) show when he responded.

"Well, when you get down to it, 'sir' is just as much a title as anything else. It's what you call someone you don't know when you want to be polite but not personal. You CAN use it as a gesture of respect, but it has other applications, including simple politeness. Honestly, that's all they require, and if you can bend your mind around it, you will get along easier."

"But as for your magic," he paused. "It's widely known that elves are magical creatures. I'm not going to advertise the fact that you can do actual spell-type magics. You can do so at your discretion, but I think informing any random buyer of what you could do would put you more at risk. It would be up to you to reveal what you want, or employ what you want. I want you to be able to utilize your talents when they will help you please your Master, for your own safety and protection. I think advertising exactly what those talents are? Would be counterproductive to that. They might demand specific things, not believe you if you say you can't do it, and torture you until you do. I wouldnt' want that happening. Again... does that make sense?"
 
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