WARNING! This story is only for adults over the age of 18 and contains Strong Sexual Content. It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS only, and the author does not in any way condone similar behavior. If you are under the age or 18 or reside in a state that prohibits such behavior, stop reading immediately!!!
"Janet in Training" Chapter Nine: The Ordeal
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"Janet in Training" by mailto:sfmaster@att.net
Chapter Nine: The Ordeal
Part One
Janet looked outside her bedroom window at the dark winter sky. She had been sleeping in Erica's bedroom now for months, and fortunately Tiffany had not made an issue of it. But it still felt strange sleeping in Erica's bed, wearing her clothes, and living her life. It had been six months since her death last summer, and the time had gone by quickly.
She rose from bed, and decided not to go through the ritual of having Tina bathe and dress her. It was a nice luxury, to be sure. And she often enjoyed it. But not everyday, and she wasn't a child that had to be pampered at her every move.
Janet stretched, and jumped in the hot shower. She washed off the sweat that had been generated when she and Tiffany had dominated a new girl named Denise Powell who had been in Erica's records. Janet had decided that she didn't want to intrude on Tiffany's scene, and had politely excused herself halfway through. She could have continued with Tina, but had decided to read for the rest of the night. Besides, she had already decided to use Tina tomorrow night. Janet had brought a riding crop, and straps to tie Tina to her bed. She was going to have a wonderful evening planned.
She soaped her breasts and belly, glad that she was using the exercise room. Tina had gone to school for cooking, and Janet wondered if she was qualified to be a chef. Had she not exercised, Janet was worried that she would have gained weight. Still, she had asked Tina to lay off the rich food and adjusted the menus accordingly. Gluttons didn't fit into skintight rubberwear.
After the shower awakened her, she dressed in a plaid shirt and old jeans. She pulled her legs into a pair of boots, and tucked her cuffs inside. Janet would be going into town today to the broker, and she had to prepare.
In the six months that they had been living together as two Dominants under one roof, there was one thing that they never discussed: Erica's contest.
They shared in the training and discipline of slaves, even slept together on occasion. They shared the most intimate details that two women could have under one roof. But still, they could not discuss the Sword of Damocles that hung above them.
Janet had never made any mention of it, nor about what she was doing. She had memorized the brokers number, then burned his card. Then she had rented a bank safety deposit box in town where she kept her notes. She never kept her notes at home, nor discussed them in any way.
Tiffany was far different. She left copies of financial newspapers at home, with stocks clearly circled. Her notes were sometimes found lying around, and she made little effort to conceal what she was doing. Janet didn't know if she really owned the stocks, of course.
After dressing, she went downstairs. The kitchen was empty, and Janet guessed that Tiffany had asked Tina to help her bathe and dress. So Janet got her juice from the fridge, and started the water for fresh coffee.
If Janet wanted to be independent, Tiffany wanted to be pampered. She would frequently use Tina as her bath girl in the morning, making her rise very early. If she made a mistake, Tina would be sure to receive a few strokes with the crop that Tiffany kept in her room.
Still, Tina did not complain. She had demonstrated her ability to serve both as a domestic and more. They both used her as their assistant in the Dungeon, and as sex slave at night. Janet sometimes wondered if Tiffany was careless, however.
Tina ran into the kitchen, her heels clicking on the tiles. Worry was clearly visible on her face.
"Mistress Janet, I'm sorry to be late," Tina apologized.
"It's all right," said Janet.
"I was being used by Mistress Tiffany."
"I know. Tell me, does Tiffany interfere in your work in keeping the house? Then punish you if you have failed to clean or do something?" questioned Janet.
"Yes, Mistress."
"Thank you, Tina. I had no idea. I'll take up the matter with Tiffany, and she will not interfere with your work again."
"Thank you, Mistress," answered Tiffany.
Breakfast was a loud affair, with Tiffany eager to explain how she had disciplined and used Denise. Janet listened to her, hearing the details like Tiffany had just bought a coat at a department store. She wondered if Tiffany had really read all of the documents that Erica had left them. Or had just managed to find the one on the stock market contest and ignore the rest.
She certainly hadn't read the parts on training and using slave girls. Janet had spent day after day, reading and rereading, constantly asking questions of Stephanie. Since Janet had befriended Stephanie, Tiffany had instead turned for advice to Mistress Lauren Singer. Mistress Lauren evidently hadn't read those rules either, and Stephanie was strangely silent about her.
Like two prizefighters in the ring, Janet thought, they both had their respective corners and advisors. After breakfast, she went to the library, and turned on the radio to get the weather report. Snow was forecast, and she wanted to drive into town to see the broker.
Tiffany would use the phone to contact her broker, and Erica certainly wouldn't have them use the same person, or even the same firm. But Janet didn't dare use the phone. Instead, Janet followed her ritual of driving into town. Then she used the public library (she had given the library a generous donation during a fundraising drive) then went to the broker, and returned home. Her excuse was that she was going shopping, and she had to purchase something to justify her trips.
Living in Connecticut during winter was quite different than in Queens. Greenwich was full of hills, not flat like Queens, so driving was challenge even during good weather. Small winding roads, slower speeds, and frequent hills all made the place a nightmare to drive through. Janet had learned caution when after a brief rainstorm she had hit the brakes and slid through an intersection. So she drove nice and slow.
Snow was forecast, but only in the evening. Good, that would give her the chance to go to Greenwich and do her business with the broker. Janet now had to decide what coat to wear today.
Looking at her watch, she saw that it was near opening time for the library. It would be nice to have a day out. However, she wondered if it was better to confront Tiffany about her treatment of Tina first, or leave it for later in the day.
Her decision was made for her when she heard the front door close with a bang. That meant that Tiffany was off somewhere, and gone for the day.
At least that decision had been postponed for now. Since Tiffany had made friends with Mistress Lauren, she had certainly changed, and for the worse. Lauren expressed the view that she was lord over her slaves, and treated them badly. She definitely was glad that her first Mistress had been Erica, and not Lauren. It was one thing to serve and be properly disciplined. It was another to be carelessly treated by a selfish and intolerant Mistress. Janet shivered at the life that her slaves must lead!
Finishing her coffee, Janet turned the radio off. Only to see large white snowflakes start drifting down onto the ground, sticking right as they landed.
"Just a great day," said Janet aloud, "I have to see the broker, I have to talk with Tiffany, and it has to snow. What else will the gods throw at me today?"
"Mistress?" asked Tina, "I heard you speaking. Were you calling me?"
"No, Tina. Just talking to myself, thank you. You may proceed with your work."
"Thank you, Mistress," Tina answered as she closed the library doors.
Janet did not look where she was going until she walked right into Erica's computer, almost toppling over the minitower.
"Damn!" shouted Janet, after stubbing her toe on the computer's desk.
She seated herself on the chair, and pulled her boot off, massaging her aching toe. It throbbed, and she was considering calling Tina to get an icepack for her. Suddenly, her eyes turned to feral slits as she looked at the computer setup.
"Holy cow, what a fool I've been," said Janet to herself.
Janet stared at the computer like it was an alien artifact. In the six months since they had inherited the estate, neither of them had touched the computer. Tiffany, after leaving her job, had said that she had never wanted to use one again. Janet had just been too busy, and even though she was in the library constantly, she had never thought to turn it on either.
All of the memories of Erica working on the computer flooded back to her. Whenever she had arrived, Erica could usually be found at the machine. Janet wondered just how much she worked at the machine when the other household duties were taken care of.
Her hand was reaching for the on switch when she stopped herself. She suddenly remembered that once at her firm files had been deleted by accident. So they had taken the machine to a data retrieval service that had recovered them. If Janet had turned on the machine, they would likely have been lost!
Since Erica had covered her other clues, why not this one? Assuming that Erica had deleted the files, they would still be on the hard drive. She opened the desk drawer for the local phone books, her throbbing foot totally forgotten.
"Eureka!" Janet shouted.
Not only was there a data retrieval service here in Greenwich, they were connected to the firm that her company had used in Manhattan! She picked up the phone, and asked their hours.
Janet pulled her boot on again, and pulled the computer desk away from the wall. Fortunately, the cables were few and easy. She carried the computer into the kitchen, and wrapped it in plastic bags.
Pulling her coat around herself, she exited the house. The drive into Greenwich was already slow, and she passed an accident. Finally, she pulled in front of her destination.
"Can I help you?" asked the woman at the front desk.
"Yes, I called earlier. I need something retrieved from this machine," answered Janet.
"Fill out this form, and I'll have someone take care of you," said the woman as she passed Janet a clipboard, form, and pen.
Janet raced through the form just in time for a white-coated man to enter the waiting area.
"Hi, I'm Carl. Sharon tells me you need something found?"
"Hello, I'm Janet Davis. Yes, I need something from this machine, and I'm afraid that I may erase it by accident."
"Step this way, please," indicated Carl.
Janet followed him to a clean area, where computer lay open their internal contents open to view. He sat down at a bench, and motioned for Janet to put the machine down and take a seat.
"Would you like to leave it here?" he asked.
Janet had taken two new crisp hundred-dollar bills and had them hidden in her hand. This was something she needed now, and couldn't wait.
"The information I need is of a pressing nature, and must be extracted immediately for business reasons. I'm prepared to wait," answered Janet.
"No problem, I can do this right away," he said.
Janet watched in silence as he opened the box up, and disconnected the disk drive, only to reconnect it to another computer on his desk. Then he turned his machine on and fed power to only the disk drive on Erica's computer. He fiddled around with his keyboard for a moment, and Janet watched as file names scrolled on the screen.
"What are you looking for?" Carl asked.
"Any files that were deleted just before the computer was last used six months ago," answered Janet.
He typed in a few more commands, then sat back in his chair.
"There's just one, a letter."
"Print it, please," asked Janet.
The printer at the counter buzzed to life, and Janet walked over and removed it. She felt like screaming when she read the contents.
Dear Richard,
As per our earlier discussion, Secretary Janet Davis is to be dismissed for whatever reason immediately after she returns to work.
Erica Riken
"Thank you," Janet stuttered when she looked up from the paper.
"By the way, had you turned it on, that would have been deleted," cautioned Carl.
Janet paid for the service in cash, and handed Carl the bills that she had kept folded in her hand.
"That's not necessary," he said.
"Buy the whole office a good lunch on me. I don't want any solicitations in the mail from you for computer services. So keep me off your mailing list. That's what the extra payment is for," said Janet.
Once back in the car, with the computer at her side, Janet felt like pounding the steering wheel. Had Erica and Andrea really died when their plane went down in the rugged mountains of Mexico? No bodies, or the plane, had ever been found.
Instead, now Janet knew that she was a puppet on a string. Everything that happened had been arranged months in advance. Erica's death, the will, the contest. Everything. Except knowing that changed nothing. There was still the stock market, and the possibility that she might become Tiffany's slave.
Janet wiped the tears from her eyes before setting out for the library. She placed the printed letter in her safety deposit box before going home as her last stop that day. The dark gray winter sky, with snow falling, was a perfect match for her mood right now.
Dinner was over, and they were both lingering at the table over coffee and dessert.
"Janet," began Tiffany, "I've noticed that you've been very moody lately."
"Yes, I guess so," Janet answered.
"Well, I think that you should use that little girl I've been training, Denise."
"You've already used Denise twice this week," said Janet.
"Yes, but she loves it so."
"You should really give her a break. If you use her too often, she'll never want to serve you," cautioned Janet.
"I disagree. The harder you use a girl, the more she'll want to serve."
"Where did you hear that from. Lauren?"
"Yes. Her girls are very well behaved," stated Tiffany.
"I'm sure they are, and terrified to boot. Erica never used you quite so harshly," parried Janet.
"She had me pierced," pouted Tiffany.
"Which you thought of as a mark of love, which was what you told me," said Janet.
"Maybe you're right about that. But still, we're on top now, and should act like it. So instead of entertaining Denise tonight, how about going to Lauren's? She's going to have a little party tonight, and we're invited," Tiffany offered.
"No thanks."
"I never said anything when you took me to Stephanie's, did I? You can at least be polite by going to see one of my friends, too," criticized Tiffany.
Janet realized that Tiffany was correct. Holding her emotions in check, she breathed deeply and took the last swallow of coffee before answering.
"All right. I'll go. What's on the agenda?"
"Just a little party game," answered Tiffany.
Janet chose to wear a white linen blouse and a plaid skirt. When she waited for Tiffany, she wondered just what her companion had decided. Janet bit her lip when she saw that Tiffany had picked a skintight red rubber dress, and matching shoes.
"Won't you be a little cold in that?"
"We're going to someone's house, not out to a nightclub," Tiffany pointed out.
"And rubber is a little fragile also. It's one thing to wear it at home. Something else to wear it outside," cautioned Janet.
"Will you cut it out," said Tiffany. "We have to go now, or we'll be late. So let's go."
"Who's driving?"
"You are."
With the sky totally black and the roads slippery, Janet decided to take the Toyota. Tiffany wanted her to drive the BMW, but Janet talked her out of it. She preferred to use the FWD sedan, rather than the sporty BMW. Tiffany was mollified by the idea that they might go out and splurge on a SUV. It seemed that the prospect of spending money always managed to impress Tiffany.
Janet however, had a simpler idea for dealing with bad weather: don't drive.
The trip was long and slow, with Tiffany always urging her to go faster. Janet kept her mouth shut, determined to get them there in one piece. Learning to drive here had been a bitch, and it had taken her a long time, but they finally arrived.
Mistress Lauren Singer lived well outside Greenwich, in an estate that had once been part of a large farm. Gradually, the surrounding land had been sold off, leaving only the house, which had been surrounded with a wall also. Janet drove up the driveway, and pressed a button on a post where a speaker was located. The gate opened, and she drove up to the house.
When they parked and exited the car, the door was opened and a Maid was waiting for them. Janet noted that the Maid was wearing a black silk outfit, high heels, and a kerchief on her head. She was also wearing a collar and bracelets on her wrists.
"Good evening," greeted the Maid, "you are expected."
"Thank you," answered Tiffany.
Janet followed her companion into the house. The Maid took their coats, and ushered them into the dining room.
Mistress Lauren Singer was in her late thirties, slim and good looking. Janet thought that at one time she might have been a model, but that had not been the case.
"Good evening, Tiffany. Nice to see you again, and you've brought Janet," greeted Lauren.
"I came along for the ride," said Janet.
"What a liar," said Tiffany, "she insisted on driving."
"Really. Are you a good driver?" asked Lauren.
"Yes," Janet answered, "it all depends on who's in control."
"Let me introduce you to our other guests," Lauren took Janet's hand, and they walked over to the dining room table. Seated were two other women, none of whom Janet recognized.
"This is Carla and Rene," introduced Lauren, "this is Janet Davis, who lives with Tiffany."
"Nice to meet you," said Carla, "why don't you sit down?"
"Thank you," said Janet as she pulled up a chair.
"Drink?" asked Carla.
"Thank you, is there any white wine?"
"Sabrina?" called Carla.
The Maid walked quickly to the dining room table, and stood at attention before the seated women.
"Janet here wasn't served properly," said Carla.
"Would you like a drink, Mistress?" asked Sabrina.
"Yes, some white wine would do," said Janet.
"Yes, Mistress."
Sabrina walked quickly to the bar, and poured a slender glass of white wine. She walked back, and placed it on the wooden table with a coaster.
"Your wine, Mistress," said Sabrina as she bowed.
"Thank you, Sabrina," replied Janet.
As Sabrina walked away, Janet speculated on whom among her two companions would use this little omission for an excuse to punish Sabrina. Lauren had not taken the bait from the small insult that Janet had used, but Janet still suspected that her host would somehow use it against her later.
'God, I wish Stephanie was here,' thought Janet.
In the last six months, it had been Stephanie who had taught her all about being a Mistress. Weeks before, Janet was at a party where had seen Lauren mistreat a slave girl past her breaking point. Janet wondered if she was going to do it again.
"Have you dominated many girls?" asked Rene.
"A few. I'm still feeling my way around," Janet answered.
"Lauren has showed me the proper way to deal with my girls," said Carla.
"Really?" asked Janet.
"She's going to provide a demonstration here tonight," said Rene, "so don't spoil the fun for our new guest, Carla, by spilling the beans too early."
Janet took a sip of her drink, and decided to hold her tongue. There was a structure here, a hierarchy of Dominance. And it was Lauren who was holding court in her house, like an African hyena out on the plains. Stephanie had made it quite plain to Janet that she disapproved of Lauren and her methods.
"Are we ready, ladies?" asked Lauren as she approached the dining room table.
"Yes," answered Janet, "but for what?"
"First, the prize. Sabrina!" called Lauren.
Sabrina led a naked chained slave girl by a leash. The girl was completely naked, wearing only a collar, bracelets on her wrists and ankles, and a ball gag. Her wrists were joined behind her back, and a leather strap was closed above her elbows drawing her arms together.
"This is Myra, who belongs to Rene. She's been a bad little girl lately, and so Rene and I have decided that she's going to be the evening's prize in a little contest."
"Really," said Janet as Tiffany seated herself next to her.
Janet looked Myra over, and saw that she had been well whipped. Stripes, new and old, traced their way over her naked body. The girl held herself well, though the elbow strap must have hurt. Janet wondered what she must have been thinking, with her mouth filled with the rubber ball.
"Janet, since you're new here, I'll let you do the honors. Could you go to the china closet and remove the game from the upper drawer?" asked Lauren.
"Certainly," said Janet.
Doing as she was told, Janet walked over to the china closet and opened the top drawer. Inside was a wrapped rectangular object that she carried back to the table. Janet placed it in front of her as she again seated herself, waiting for further instructions.
"You may open it, Janet," directed Lauren.
Janet pulled off the wrapping paper, and revealed a game from her childhood, Conquest. She pulled off the paper, and folded it neatly. Janet then placed it in the center of the table, so that all of Lauren's guests were facing it.
"You're all familiar with Conquest, I hope?" asked Lauren.
"Haven't played that in years," said Rene.
"Me too," added Carla.
Around the table, each guest admitted that they had played the game at one time or another. Finally, everyone looked at Janet.
"I used to play, but that was years ago," admitted Janet.
When her brother hadn't been trying to beat the crap out of her bodily, he had been doing so on the board game. They had played Conquest constantly throughout childhood all the way to college. Finally, tired of being beat, she had read some books on war, learned her mistakes, and started beating him. By the time she reached college, she was unbeatable. Macho male guys in the student center would find that she was a tough customer who they couldn't defeat.
"Well then, let's begin. The winner will have the use of Myra here tonight. All of us get to watch down in my playroom," said Lauren.
Janet opened the box, and unfolded the board onto the table. All of the players chose their color armies, and the nation cards were distributed. The armies were counted out, and placed on the board. They rolled the dice to set the order of play, and the four women engaged in War to conquer the world. With the prize being Myra, who had been led away by Sabrina.
Janet hung back, playing conservatively, letting the others battle it out. She attacked gradually, gaining new countries at first, continents next. Her color, red, that she had always used, gradually took over more and more of the Earth's surface.
In desperation, two of her opponents joined together to stop her. But with one brilliant move after another, she first smashed one opponent, then another.
One by one, the others were eliminated. Their armies were removed from the board, and they became her audience. Finally, she faced Rene, but it was all over. Rene was left with just South America, and she conceded defeat.
"Well," said Lauren, "you certainly have a poker face."
"Thank you," said Janet.
"Do you conquer the world on a regular basis?" asked Lauren.
"Not since college. But I haven't forgotten how."
"Had I known that we had such a good player in our midst, I would have chosen something else," said Lauren.
"This was quite nice," said Janet as she began to put away the game, "perhaps we should play again sometime."
"Not against you," replied Carla, "you're quite a vicious player."
"This is war, remember," said Janet, "the winner dominates the loser."
"Bravo," cheered Rene, "and now you get the use of Myra."
The four players and Lauren stood up from the table. Lauren insisted on showing them through the house, pointing out the gifts that her affluent slaves had given her over the years.
"Would you like to get dressed in something more fitting, Janet? I'm sure that I can find something in leather that would fit. I have such a large wardrobe, after all," offered Lauren.
"Thank you," said Janet, accepting her offer.
"You can go into my bedroom. My slave Sabrina is busy now, so you'll have to get dressed yourself."
"It's all right, I can manage," answered Janet.
Having seen the bedroom already, Janet went by herself. Lauren had went back to finish giving the rest of her guests the tour of the house.
Janet opened Lauren's closet, which she had only glimpsed before, and walked inside. Looking every bit as stocked as Erica's, Janet knew that she wouldn't have any problem finding something to wear.
Twenty minutes later, she was dressed in a simple black leather bra, skirt, stockings, and high heels. Janet admired herself in the mirror, and was glad that they were nearly were the same size.
Walking carefully on the rug, Janet made her way downstairs. All the doors to the Dungeon had been left open, so that she would have no trouble finding her way there.
When she arrived in the Dungeon, she found Lauren, Tiffany, Rene, and Carla seated on whicker chairs shaped like thrones. Sabrina was standing next to a bar cart, and two of the guests were holding glasses.
But at the center of the room was Myra! She was hanging from the ceiling by her wrists, which had been joined together. Her legs were held open by a spreader bar that was locked to her ankle bracelets. Her feet could barely touch the floor, so she swayed somewhat. Her body was strained, and Janet could see the ribs below her skin.
Myra still wore the ballgag in her mouth, and Janet proceeded to walk around her. Janet had not gotten a close look at her before, and she was distressed to find that the girl had just been recently used. Fresh red stripes already decorated her flesh, and Janet wondered if she should be used again quite so soon.
Walking back to her audience, she bowed, then stood in front of Rene.
"May I have the use of your property?" asked Janet.
"Of course. You may use whatever means you desire," said Rene.
Janet walked back over to Myra. Her fingertips touched the girl's trembling skin, feeling the new welts as she traced their paths on her skin. She could almost smell the fear that this girl radiated, bound in her prison of steel and leather.
Janet slowly unbuckled the ballgag, and it had been tightened so that when removed the ball almost popped out of Myra's mouth and the strap left it's cruel imprint on the corners of her mouth.
"Thank you, Mistress Janet," panted Myra.
Janet continued inspecting the bound girl, and realizing that she had already been severely used already, would not impose a harsh discipline upon her. It seemed strange to her that Myra had been chosen, since her capacity for more punishment was already quite limited. Janet saw a flogger with broad strands hanging nearby, and decided to use that.
"Why so conservative, Janet?" asked Lauren.
"Mistress?"
"Janet, she's yours to use. Surely you can find something better than that flogger," advised Lauren.
Lauren rose from her chair, walked over, and found a cat. Made of many strands like the flogger, except that the tips of each one ended in a knot. Janet knew that this would mark Myra and hurt with each stroke.
"I'll try the whip, instead," chose Janet.
"Good choice," said Lauren, handing her a slender coiled whip.
"Do you, Myra, accept my discipline?" asked Janet, standing in front of her captive.
"Yes, Mistress," said Myra.
"Than kiss the handle, and thank me for what you are about to receive," ordered Janet.
Myra did as she was instructed, and thanked Janet. Janet walked around her once more, trying to decide where she could use the whip on virgin flesh. But Myra had already been used before.
Janet lashed out, and the whip coiled itself around Myra's thighs. The tip came to rest between her legs, making her flinch.
"Thank you, Mistress," cried Myra.
"No need to count," said Janet.
Janet struck again and again, watching as her new strokes were made evident on Myra's body. Her flesh gradually became red and warm, and Janet could almost feel the heat emanating from her punished figure.
The whip landed again and again, and Janet would pause between sets of ten stokes. She wanted to carefully gauge the effect of her discipline, and did not want to exceed Myra's capacity.
"Are you a good girl, Myra?" asked Janet.
"Yes, Mistress," answered Myra.
"Let's see now," said Janet.
Pausing in her use of Myra, Janet then proceeded to pinch Myra's nipples, then bite them slightly with her teeth, making her squeal with both pain and delight. Then her hands rubbed the warm and punished flesh of Myra's bottom, separating the ass cheeks to glimpse the entry to her behind.
Then Janet invaded her sex with just her index finger, and found that Myra was wet and excited by her ordeal. Janet ordered her not to cum, but then proceeded to do everything possible to climax her. Myra held fast, but Janet noted the Goosebumps on her flesh.
"Mistress, no," cried Myra.
"Silence, slut," ordered Janet.
Her audience sat in rapt attention, only breaking their interest when they signaled to Sabrina for a drink. Janet did not do anything extra for them that she might have done in her own Dungeon.
"Oh, oh!" cried Myra.
"Don't cum!" cautioned Janet.
In spite of her orders, Myra rocked in her chains as the massive orgasm overtook her. She moaned and bucked, and the steel links reverberated in response.
"Bad girl," said Janet.
Janet again picked up the whip, delivering stroke after stroke that would wrap itself cruelly around Myra's body. Each time, the tip would come to rest on her back or behind. But it between her breasts and legs that Janet would aim the most strokes, making Myra cry and moan within her chains.
Tears ran down Myra's cheeks as the whipping continued, streaking her makeup. Janet continued her routine of ten strokes, then a pause to let the girl rest. Janet was amazed that she could take so much, given that she had been already used rather recently.
"Mercy, Mistress," cried Myra, suddenly, having reached her limit.
"What was that, slave?" asked Janet as she paused before another stroke.
"Mercy, Mistress," plead Myra.
"Kiss my whip and thank your Mistress," ordered Janet.
Myra did as she was told, and soon Janet was standing in front of her female audience.
"The slave Myra has been soundly punished, and I thank..."
"What do you think that you're doing?" asked Lauren, anger in her voice.
"Slave Myra has called for mercy, and I accept her plea," correctly answered Janet.
"Not in my house," said Lauren as she rose from her chair.
Lauren was carrying a riding crop in her left hand, and she advanced towards Myra. Myra shook her chains in fear.
Lauren was about to deliver a stroke when Janet caught her arm and held it. All eyes were upon her.
"The girl has been soundly used. The entertainment is done for this evening," said Janet.
"It has not. You're not in your House, Janet, nor Stephanie's. My rules apply here, and I say that we're not done with Myra just yet. Perhaps a few strokes of the cane will bring her around."
"No!" replied Janet, "you gave her to me for the night. Since she is mine, I say that her discipline is over. By every rule of conduct," said Janet.
"Not here, bitch," said Lauren.
"I repeat, Myra has called for mercy and her discipline is over," said Janet.
"Then if you will not let me punish her again, then you can take it in her place. Surely the great Mistress Janet is capable of accepting discipline in place of a lowly slave," insulted Lauren.
The End of Chapter Nine Part One