Standard Squib: The themes and subject matter in this story are adult, including but not limited to both consensual and reluctant (including coerced) sexual acts between persons of the same gender, extreme medical fetish, mind control, body modification and non consensual sexual slavery.
Author's Note: Kids, do not try this at home.
This is a fantasy.
In reality, I advocate the principles of Risk Awareness; Safe, Sane and Consensual BDSM and always observe safer sex guidelines. Safer Sex is a way of life.
This story should in no way be considered an example of safe play. Please refer to a reputable guide to pain play if you are considering exploring your fantasies about BDSM. "Coming to Power", edited by Pat Califa and "Sensual Magic", also by Pat Califia are excellent resources and readily available through most bookstores.
Once again, this is a fantasy and in my fantasies, I can engage in all sorts of reprehensible behaviour with no harm, no foul.
Mmmm, let's pretend...
If reading about power dynamics and graphic smut between women is illegal in your jurisdiction or offends you, please leave now.
I am the feedback whore from hell. If you like my tale, please write to me and let me know. Don't bother lecturing me about my sins. I already know that I'm a pervert. I rather like that about me. If, on the other hand, you're a kinky female (over 21) willing to endure a little training of your own, I'd love to hear from you.
Email me at: dr_country_mouse_top@yahoo.com.au
The Pet
copyright 2006 by dr_country_mouse_top
Story codes: F/f, F^f, BD, anal, fist, non consensual, spank, sm,
medical fetish, mind control,
body modification
Nifty category: Lesbian/authoritarian
I checked in with the staff when I arrived in the dormitory. Most of our pets were sleeping, including my favourite. Several were writhing in their restraints as they were stimulated according to their training schedule. My favourite was finishing her second two hour sleep cycle.
Sleep deprivation was a vital part of my pet's early indoctrination. It was a simple brain washing technique used to great effect in both the Korean and the Viet Nam war, as well as during basic training in each branch of the armed forces of the United States. We also incorporated simple physical training, because orgasm was a muscular and neurological effort.
My favourite had not had eight uninterrupted hours of sleep since her arrival at the Academy. Her rest period had begun with a thirty minute rectal massage followed by the insertion of a powerful vibrating butt plug. As always, she was bound to an extreme leg spreader bar, her hands bound inside paddle style hospital restraint mittens, and wearing a sensory deprivation hood, although her nose and mouth were free.
She was propped up on a small mountain of pillows. Any time she rolled or shifted position, one of the attendants would help reposition the pillows to ensure adequate support and comfort. The bondage was not intended to be onerous or punishing. It was simply to ensure that her ass and sex were available, as they would always be available.
Each shift in position would bring the attendants and their skilled fingers that investigated asshole and cunt and clitoris with a firm and knowing touch. There would be toys and teasing and vibrating machines that stimulated with inhuman endurance. All of her training was designed to increase her orgasmic capabilities, to improve both the number and frequency of her orgasms as well as the quality of those orgasms.
She had spent the last hour dozing as a powerful vibrator throbbed in her asshole. The attendants had inserted three glycerine suppositories before inserting the fat butt plug and turning on the vibrator. The glycerine was a mild stool softener and laxative, and the vibration had stirred things up quite nicely.
I love a red bottomed girl. Taking a flexible rubber paddle, I strapped her ass and thighs until they were a glowing cherry pink. There was no need for introductions or explanations. My pet woke with a start at the first blow of the paddle. She squirmed and squealed and wriggled in her restraints, inadvertently fucking herself on the fat butt plug she was impaled upon. It was quite entertaining to watch, particularly as she came twice.
My pet soon steadied herself and crawled towards the wet room in my wake. She knew what was expected of her after nearly two weeks in residence. The attendants helped me move her into position over the traditional Japanese style toilet, mounted flush with the tiled floor. A simple padded hip roll helped perfect her position and she was soon strapped into the first position.
Removing the butt plug, I immediately inserted a stainless steel rectal syringe loaded with heated mineral oil, and hit the plunger. My pet yelped a little, but I was already massaging her clitoris firmly, warming her up a little bit. Her small breasts dangled defenceless and inviting, delicate A cup mounds with pronounced nipples.
Those pretty things had been developed through a strict training regimen focused on vacuum suction tubes. The compressor hissed and thumped as I smeared silicone lube over each nipple to ensure a good seal. The glass tubes fit closely and it only took a couple of sucks and thumps before her nipples were firmly sealed into the suction tube. Any suction device would need reseating after ten minutes to avoid compression injuries and tissue damage. For the first ten minutes of vacuum therapy, I lazily paddled her pretty pink bottom and thighs, waiting for the mineral oil and the glycerine suppositories to do their job. Then the attendants hurried forward and my pet was roped into her new position.
It would have been simpler to use hospital style restraints in silicone, latex, vinyl, leather or even neoprene, a new favourite of mine. But the web cameras mounted in the wet room were mostly for the entertainment of Japanese salarymen who seemed to have rather an obsession for enema sex and elaborate bondage of pretty blonde gaijin. It wasn't my kink, but they were delighted to pay hefty fees.
The medical kink, of which there was quite a bit, was predominantly my personal perversion, just as the whole governess and school room scene was Kate's favourite kink. Each of us had different tastes and talents, but we pooled our resources to create the Academy. Thus far, it had been a smashing success, particularly with our enthusiastic IT staff regularly turning out technological miracles that generated income.
Once my pet was bound in what was essentially a flying frog position, with her knees to her shoulders and her wrists and ankles bound together, the hydrotherapy nozzle was started. I checked it for temperature and flow rate and started the next ten minutes of stimulation.
A torrent of water frothed over my pet's clit, providing powerful clitoral stimulation and genital massage. Her bowel and cunt spasmed as she expelled the oil softened stool with a soft wail. Under the relentless current, her body continued to clutch on air, voiding her bladder as well, just as she had been trained to do. For ten minutes, she shuddered under the forceful spray, rocking through several orgasms until her clitoris was so hyper sensitive that the stimulation was acutely painful, particularly when accompanied by the merciless vacuum stimulation of her nipples.
She was sobbing at the end of the ten minute period, but she obediently tipped forward with as much grace as she could manage, offering up her ass for the second cleansing. This pet had formal enema training with Matron twice a week, but for today there would be a simple flush sequence after the initial oil purgative.
One of the attendants nudged a soap slicked finger in the pet's still quivering asshole, working in the glycerine based soap with a firm coring motion, ensuring that all faecal matter was washed away and there would be no unpleasant surprises lingering in my pet's rectum. The nipple tubes were reset and the timer started to countdown for the next ten minute stimulation period.
The attendants used the Sure Shot attachment to flush her several times during the stimulation period. Her clitoris would be nicely sensitized after the initial treatment, making this second round of hydrotherapy even more effective. It didn't take long to cycle her through the rinse and flush procedure. The attendant flushed her out three times as my pet writhed and wailed and shuddered against the elaborate rope bondage, helplessly squirting now clean water as she obediently voided her bladder and bowels under the punishing spray of the clitoral hydrotherapy.
She was untied and swept off to the grooming area, where she was bathed, her skin buffed, polished and moisturized, her face and hair and teeth attended to. She was soon laid out upon my favourite examination table, spread wide and securely bound, whimpering prettily in anticipation.
Her sex was pink and swollen, genitals engorged, her cunt still oozing slightly. Her ass and thighs were still a respectable shade of pink, so there was no immediate need for another paddling. I would wait until she was in class. Her governess could easily be persuaded to give her a good spanking or perhaps even a thorough birching.
My pet arched her back and squirmed adorably as I rolled her swollen nipples between my thumb and fingers. She received vacuum therapy on her nipples every morning, and on an intermittent basis at other times.
After just over two weeks of treatment, her nipples were showing great results.
There's something almost comforting about the traditional wooden clothespin. They're classic and quite effective, despite their prosaic appearance. Humming to myself, I soon had clothespins fastened perkily on each nipple. I put three more clothespins on each side of her swollen labia.
The ginger was fresh, big bulbs of the very finest quality. I picked out the two bulbs I wanted from the selection offered me, and the attendant scampered off to prepare it. My pet whimpered and moaned as the lathe hummed on the other side of the room. She knew what was coming.
The first bulb had been cut in half, with a narrow depression carved into the center lengthwise, providing a tight fit over my pet's entire clitoris, the face of the bulb carefully rounded off to lie nestled in the vulnerable fold between her outer labia and the sides of the clitoral shaft. The second bulb had been shaped into a plump butt plug. My pet was too well secured to do much more than wail as I inserted the raw ginger butt plug. She shuddered at I slipped the carefully sculpted ginger half into position over her clitoris.
The twin heads of the Hitachi Magic wand would both hold the ginger half securely against her clit and in her ass, as well as providing powerful vibrations. The intense vibration would also shake the raw ginger against her exposed flesh, providing a certain level of friction, rubbing the tender mucous membranes to ensure optimal results from exposure to the ginger.
I loved watching my pet squirm and cry and squeal as the ginger burned fiercely in her ass and over her clitoris, pleasure and pain at levels that forced her into a howling, roaring orgasm, the stimulation extended without pity until she had experienced the full ten minutes of therapeutic treatment.
The ginger improved the circulation to the treated areas, and blood flow is all important for sexual performance. My pet's genitals were nicely engorged, ensuring that she was in peak condition for the rest of her lessons. I made a note in her file and left her to the attendants, who would tidy her up and dress her for class.
I was just admiring Kate's technique as she spanked one of her favourites when the rest of the class filed in, each appropriately attired in a school uniform. Each girl virtuously picked up several thick white terry cloth towels from the enormous stacks piled on a table by the door.
Kate was one of those wonderful Governesses that every young lady dreams of having. My old friend's lush curves were well displayed by the corseted Victorian costume. She was firm, but fair and full of laughter and warm approval. The girls adored her.
"Keep that pretty bottom up now, dear," Kate chided her favourite. "All your school chums are arriving and you want them to see how wet you are, don't you?" She was hand spanking her girl's pert buttocks as she lay over Kate's lap. Kate was seated in a straight backed chair with absolutely perfect posture, her quiet brown hair piled up in a soft Gibson Girl cascade, emphasizing the subtle elegance of her beauty.
I always thought it was a good lesson for the students to learn to appreciate how powerfully attractive their Governess truly was. She was mature, possessing the ripe beauty of the harvest moon. She was apple crisp, cheerful, both affectionate and firm in her dealings with the girls. Each student would be well schooled and knowledgeable by the time Miss Kate was convinced that she was ready to leave the school room.
Kate continued to hand spank her favourite as my pet and her school chums filed in, each obediently moving to her assigned seat, carefully spreading out a dry towel before they sat down. "You like being spanked, don't you, dear?"
"Yes, Miss Kate," the girl gasped. "It makes me wet."
I chuckled. It was quite true. The evidence was shining on the girl's thighs and dribbling from her cunt in glossy strings. Miss Kate had been teasing her favourite again from the looks of things.
"And aren't you the eager little slut this morning," Miss Kate teased her fondly. "Such a good girl. Do you want anal beads or a butt plug for the first part of your lesson, sweetie?"
Her pet's bottom was a lovely shade of deep rose, her thighs a clear pink. "Oh, a plug, Miss Kate."
Chuckling, Kate reached over to the many drawers of her desk and selected a curvaceous plug with a broad flaring base and a remote controlled battery pack. Her pet's face was almost as pink as her lovely bottom by the time Kate flipped the pleated skirt back down over those well spanked buttocks and sent the girl back to her seat.
"Is anyone else eager and ready to learn this morning?" Miss Kate practically sang the words as she disposed of the latest glove in the biohazard container tucked discreetly away in what looked like a Victorian era wooden box. Several hands went up and the Governess soon had her eager pupils upended over desks and mounted on stools, displaying them in a variety of poses and postures throughout the school room for their morning spankings and a very thorough sexual teasing.
Only when each girl was wet and desperate and writhing eagerly would classes begin. Miss Kate vowed that ensuring that the girls were wet and eager concentrated their minds wonderfully. Each lesson was part of a larger curriculum designed to nurture the development of each girl's sexuality.
There were anatomy lessons, readings, and multimedia presentations. There were dramatic readings of erotica as well as practical exercises, as each girl regularly masturbated before the class until she achieved orgasm, demonstrating her growing knowledge of her own body. As the girls advanced in their education, each would be introduced to the widest possible variety of toys and techniques. Pink bottomed girls wrote hundreds and hundreds of lines, dutifully memorizing pithy little amorphisms that Miss Kate felt would ensure that her young charges maintained the proper attitude.
C.J. was our resident Amazon, with a platinum blonde flat top and a hard body crafted from years spent in the gym. Each girl was outfitted with a sturdy sports bra, modified to expose her nipples and good quality running shoes and thick socks as C.J. led the girls in a vigorous physical training regimen. They sweated and swore and struggled through the forced marches, the push ups, chin ups and endless crunches.
C.J. enforced her will with a parade ground bellow and all the snarling tenderness of any other drill instructor. She carried a truly evil rubber paddle with which she set fire to the tails of any girl she felt wasn't giving her all to the program. In addition to the running, swimming, callisthenics and weight training, there was a strict stretching and flexibility program.
Orgasm involves muscles and tendons and nerves, just like any other athletic effort of the human body. As soon as C.J. was through with them, the sweating and exhausted but safely cooled down and stretched out girls were strapped down to the examination tables in the small clinic for their sphincter and pelvic floor training.
The Epino is a brilliant device with two purposes. It is used by midwives and expectant mothers to slowly develop a tolerance for dilation of the vagina, a practice that all but eliminates tears or the need for episiotomies. The second phase of Epino training uses pressure gauges as a biofeedback device to strengthen and train the pelvic floor. This training was used to help women with stress incontinence recover bladder control after birth. Fortunately enough, pelvic floor training also ensures powerful orgasms, using the sling of muscle and tendon generally referred to as the PC muscle.
By pairing the two diverse applications of the Epino's capabilities, the girls were trained to accept increasing levels of dilation for both the vaginal and rectal sphincters, as well as learning how to clamp down and squeeze with those muscles, ensuring stronger and more frequent orgasms. The Epino training sessions were spiced with electrical play, making sure that each girl expended the maximum effort in her training. If she failed to reach the required strength when clamping down, or didn't complete the required number of repetitions, the current would flow through the Tens pads, triggering helpless muscle spasms and sending the pressure gauge needles dancing.
The position and the stimulation was far too tempting an opportunity to pass up. In addition to the Epino training, I treated my favourite to extreme clitoral stimulation during this time. Although her genitals were still slick and swollen from her morning ablutions, I left strict instructions that my pet was to receive another complete session of vacuum therapy for both her nipples and for her clitoral shaft.
In order to avoid any permanent damage, the vacuum tubes were frequently reset, alternating ten minutes of vacuum therapy followed by some other form of stimulation. Her nipples were sucked up into the tubes and then rolled firmly by the attendants during the ten minute recovery period. The clitoral suction tube was replaced by the fat tennis ball head of a Hitachi Magic Wand, alternating vacuum therapy with powerful vibrations. And all the while, the Epino inserted in both cunt and ass dilated and compressed according to the day's training schedule, a training regimen ruthlessly enforced by electrical stimulation.
It was this therapy that had left my pet with that lovely, husky soprano. She always howled like a banshee during this treatment, rocking and wailing and usually having several glorious orgasms that even produced regular female ejaculations. She screamed herself hoarse on a daily basis, the slight huskiness giving her a very sexy voice.
She was exhausted by the end of her therapy. All the girls were simply worn out from the efforts of their day thus far. The attendants washed their weary bodies in cool water and sent them off to dine. The meal would vary, although the service was always formal. Some girls were being trained to serve at table, alternating the duty with those girls who were learning the formal manners necessary to eat with presidents and prime ministers.
Some girls would be returned to the dormitory for a rest period. Others would be turned over to Matron for either enema training or the extremely invasive examinations and testing that each girl experienced on a regular basis. My favourite had two weekly enema training sessions and was performance tested to determine her current physical limits once each week.
The girls never knew whether to anticipate sleep or meals, exercise or orgasms. We mixed up their sleep schedules and made sure they never received more than four consecutive hours of sleep. We woke them in the middle of the night so C.J. could bellow cheerfully at them and push them to the limits of their athletic capabilities. We drugged them with muscle relaxers and MDA, pairing sensory deprivation helmets with extreme sexual stimulation.
Jules liked her tech toys. She was the partner who did the most with the fucking machines, and we shared a fondness for electrical stimulation. Amelia was our extreme bondage baby, with a wicked imagination and the gleeful gleam of a perverted geek in her eye. She could build just about anything in that workshop of hers, and it was her welding and skills at woodworking and metal work that was responsible for most of the furniture and fittings. Jess was our web guru and very pampered employee. She had some fairly evil ideas about robotics and remote controlled devices, coming up with some truly deviant applications for software and electrical engineering.
I was all about behaviour modification and synaptic sculpting, with a fairly serious kink for extreme clitoral stimulation and forced orgasms. I had introduced the Epino to our merry band of like minded perverts, and developed the examination and testing routines with Matron's enthusiastic participation. Sally was wonderful, in her late sixties with a lifetime of nursing behind her and an admirably perverse imagination.
With the notable exception of Jess, none of us was precisely young. We were 'Women of A Certain Age', as my grandmother would have said, united by our delightful perversions. We had pooled our resources, built the facility and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves running sweet young things through the training program.
After our initial investment, the program was actually self supporting. Jess had been a break through, one of our earliest entrants to the program. It was her suggestion that we offer carefully selected clips of our training sessions to a small circle of discerning web viewers. It wasn't long before Mistresses and Masters were sending their pets to us for a luxurious four week training seminar. Their pets were often surprised at how rigorous the training was, but no one complained at the end of the program.
Only serious a serious medical problem could interrupt the program once a girl had been entered into training. It was four weeks, without breaks and without any opportunity for dispute. The disclosure statement was immense; pages and pages of carefully annotated and cross referenced legalese, with each applicant's initials at key points throughout the disclosure. Many of the girls were a little nervous about the strictness of the four week policy, but it was also a perfect match for the average holiday from work. The video recording of each student's request for training was a further protection.
The attendants were aspiring dominants, or experienced pets who would be assuming the daily training responsibilities for other pets in their household. While they were closely supervised and given detailed instructions, it still freed up the training staff for other duties. That afternoon, my pet was dining. She was fitted with a training belt, wearing the number two rectal dilator in her ass and a short, slender silicone dildo in her dripping cunt.
The tables were arranged so that there were two Ladies seated with each group of girls. There is a certain piquant delight to enjoying a formal meal in the company of naked women. The attendants petted and paddled as needed, making sure the service staff stayed wet and eager.
Each girl at the table rose when called upon, displaying her breasts, asshole and cunt as directed by the Ladies at her table. She would also report which of her various treatments and therapies had produced the most powerful orgasms, and what things made her the wettest throughout the day.
Kate and I were discussing our day as we enjoyed a spectacular leek and potato soup, creamy, hot and spicy with white pepper, garlic and onions. She beckoned my pet over to admire the results of the day's activities. "Off with the belt now, dear," Kate said cheerfully as she eased the dilator and the dildo free of my favourite's body. "Let's have a look at your ass, sweetie."
An attendant presented Kate with a selection of gloves and toys. Kate pulled on a latex examination glove and pumped a little lube on her fingers. Sliding one slender digit deep in my pet's ass, she encouraged her to clamp down. "Nobody likes a sloppy hole, dear. Squeeze down on my finger and show me how eager you are."
I chuckled, having confidence in the benefits of regular Epino training. Kate flashed me a wicked grin. "Don't gloat, darling. It's not attractive," she teased me. "She could crack walnuts with that action."
I threw my head back a laughed as Kate withdrew her finger and discarded the glove. "Oh, the clitoral training is really starting to show results, isn't it," she noted with an expert's eye. "Have you considered introducing a second ginger therapy during each day? At least for her clitoris," Kate said coaxingly.
"I suppose I could repeat the ginger treatment as the alternative to vacuum suction. Her ass and cunt are already busy with the Epino training, and I don't want to interrupt that."
"We'll have to talk to the others," Kate was enthusiastic. "I think the ginger should become a standard part of the program for everyone. Your pet is so deliciously sensitized before she ever begins classes.
My pet was less excited, although she could not deny that the new therapy would ensure that she had even more violent and powerful orgasms during her daily Epino training. The combination of fresh ginger and powerful vibration was a savage sort of pleasure. It was too intense, even if she came helplessly, over and over and over again.
After the meal, Jules, Amelia, C.J. and Sally joined Kate and I at our table, discussing the possible uses of ginger treatment. As my pet had already begun my usual course of clitoral enlargement, it was the consensus to provide maximum stimulation, taking the program to its most extreme logical conclusion.
The router table could be preset to manufacture the ginger form necessary for maximum clitoral stimulation. The ginger bulb simply needed to be of a minimum length and girth. With reliable mass production possible, ensuring a consistent product, the ginger treatment could be used at multiple times throughout the day. My favourite's class room time was cut back to incorporate the new stimulation routines.
Every four hours, my pet began a stimulation cycle. There would be ten minutes of ginger and powerful vibrations followed by ten minutes of vacuum suction therapy. The two therapies would be alternated, ten minutes of vibration and ginger followed by ten minutes of suction. These alternate cycles of stimulation would continue for one hour out of every four hour period.
Her morning routine would continue with the usual glycerine suppositories, mineral oil purge, a thorough rectal massage with generous quantities of soap and then the three flushes to rinse as she had her clitoral hydrotherapy and the first nipple suction of the day.
C.J. began to incorporate clitoral whippings as part of the daily physical training routine, and Miss Kate was careful to deliver a very thorough spanking as my pet went through yet another cycle of alternating ginger with vibration and vacuum suction. Amelia and Jules ganged up on my little darling every other afternoon, switching off with Matron Sally. The two deviant scientists usually had my pet strapped into some extreme bondage pose and hooked up to test drive yet another experimental fucking machine of their design.
Matron continued her existing routine of enema training two afternoons a week, alternating with the new electrical stimulation routine, with particular attention given to my pet's clitoris. It was the crowning touch on a stimulation routine that targeted the clitoris like the homing device on a nuclear warhead.
My pet was snatching ten minute naps whenever she could, caught between the merciless routines and therapies. She was sleep deprived and hallucinating on occasion, reporting that she was indeed experiencing as many orgasms as we suspected. Her rest periods were taken with the Epinos inserted in both cunt and ass, dilation sequences continuing as she drowsed in the sensory deprivation hood.
The hood was used during most of her stimulation routines, in order to focus her attention on her clitoris. It swelled and grew, engorged and flushed a dark raspberry, looking almost like one of my pet's well trained nipples. The delicate folds of her clitoral hood were plump and meaty, the shaft apparently perpetually erect, a thickened ridge that stood up proudly under the shelter of all that slick, swollen flesh.
The ginger treatment ensured maximum capillary dilation, the strength of the blood flow ensuring a corresponding level of natural lubrication from that pretty cunt. The sweet alchemy of raw ginger against delicate mucous membranes burned like fury but without any risk of blistering or actually damaging tissues. There was no defence against it, and no way to develop a tolerance for it. Each time, it burned anew.
My pet made an entertaining centrepiece at our next gathering. She was mounted in one of the imaginative bondage frames designed and built by Amelia and Jules. Our well stimulated little darling was mounted in an articulated exoskeleton that offered her up, laid her out and spread her wide.
There were baskets of toys and vibrators, plugs and stimulation devices of all shapes and sizes. Every guest at the event was invited to test her responsiveness, discovering the strength and flexibility of her vaginal and rectal sphincters. The Epinos were among the devices available to put my pet through her paces. Many of the guests were fascinated, testing her maximum capabilities for dilation and contraction.
Later in the evening, our evil scientists set up one of their favourite formats for machine fucking, with drilldos spinning it opposing direction in her ass and cunt, while electrified clamps were fastened in three pairs along the length of her hugely enlarged clitoris. My pet came endlessly, moaning helplessly as her clitoris was assaulted with pitiless electrical precision.
Her stunned sphincters obediently stayed open when the dildos were removed only to be replaced by the next tools. A Fucksall flew in her well prepared ass while a sparkler sizzled against her vaginal sphincter, the e-stim firing off the nerves in her clamped clitoris. She ejaculated repeatedly, screaming like a woman in labour as she climaxed again and again and again.
When she went limp in the restraints, no longer even whimpering, Amelia and Jules removed the clamps and the fucking machine. But just because we were done with the evening's demonstration didn't mean that her day was done. I left her mounted in the middle of the party as I inserted the raw ginger butt plug and covered her clitoris with one of the custom carved ginger stimulators for her vibrations therapy.
The fierce delights of ginger therapy roused her from her exhausted dose. She whimpered and squirmed, shuddering breathlessly as her outraged nervous system was further stimulated. The vacuum suction on her clitoris elicited high pitched, whistling sounds as her voice broke. She lost consciousness during the second round of vacuum suction, after another ginger and vibration cycle.
Her body moved differently when she was out cold. Her muscles were utterly without tension, hanging limply against the restraints. Her therapy continued for the full hour, alternating the two treatments until the time was up.
Chuckling, our attendants poured her out of the bondage frame and on to a gurney. I patted her on the cheek as she was wheeled past me. "Put her in recovery for a few days," I bade the staff, with an indulgent glance at the unconscious blonde. My pet's first month at the Academy had been a brilliant success.
For the first time since her arrival at the Academy, she would sleep undisturbed in a normal bed. The staff washed her body down after the excesses of the night. They gently placed her naked form between the luxurious 400 count Egyptian cotton sheets. The room was simply furnished in the cottage style, with lace curtains in the window overlooking a small, sunny courtyard garden.
It was the reflected light from that courtyard that finally woke her ten hours later. She was disoriented at first, no doubt feeling strange as she slept with her legs together for the first time in four weeks. She sighed, and curled up into a ball, and then opened up like a flower, spreading herself out as if in four point restraints, stretching luxuriously.
She soon discovered the Japanese style toilet in the other room. There were the full array of familiar devices, the Sure Shot in line enema nozzle and the pulsating shower massager that was focused on her clitoris for her morning hydrotherapy. A clearly marked blue glass jar held glycerine suppositories, and a small heater, originally designed as a tea warmer, kept the syringe of mineral oil ready for application.
There was also a collection of toys, including an assortment intended for use in both holes as well as clitoral stimulation. My pet touched everything with curious fingers but declined to use any of it. I was quite pleased when the staff alerted me. It was an option that we had discussed. I would be sure to reward her lavishly for denying herself.
She voided her bladder and bowels and used the Sure Shot for two small rinses. I was delighted to see that she took appropriate care of her skin, face, hair and teeth. The cosy flannel sleep pants and terrycloth robe were a little large, and all the more comfortable for it. She slipped into fuzzy sheepskin slippers and shuffled into the next room, looking around curiously.
Miss Kate smiled when she saw how my pet was unconsciously holding the flannel sleep pants pressed against her distended clitoris. The deliciously meaty shaft extended beyond the shelter of her outer labia, leaving it exposed and subject to a wide variety of stimuli. Just the flannel brushing repeatedly over her clitoris was highly arousing, immediately triggering the first flush of lubrication from her well trained cunt.
"Let's have a look at you, dear," Kate said briskly. My pet was soon upended over her lap, her clitoris distending to the rear as she arched her back to make it more available. "Oh, my! You are indeed swollen today, my sweet. Even your pretty rosebud is puffy and swollen. It's perfectly adorable. And look how juicy you are." She patted my pet's bottom. "We're going to have such fun keeping you hungry," Kate predicted merrily.
Even while in Recovery, a pet must be ready for service at all times. Kate wasted no time in ensuring that both of my pet's holes were adequately lubricated for use. But then the Governess set the girl off to eat breakfast and enjoy the rest of her day.
She took two naps, and nibbled on the fruit and cheeses, the pastries and sandwiches, the delightful little tarts and miniature pies. There was fruit juice, spring water and endless pots of tea. The courtyard had a cool and shady little fountain trickling into a pond populated by golden koi. There was a broad chaise lounge topped with a fat cushion for drowsing in the sun.
The computer in her bedroom had access to the video archive of her stay, cross referenced by date and activity. The logs had the written notes and records from each of her handlers, as well as all the examination results. She could look up a given day and find how far her asshole was dilated, and how many pounds per square inch of pressure she exerted during the contraction exercises.
My pet had to use the bidet and change her sleep pants several times throughout the day. Not only were her genitals still swollen after the marathon stimulation of the last month, but her nervous system had been tuned to a certain level of input. Its absence was keenly felt, and her suddenly neglected cunt continued to ooze honey.
On the second day, my pet found her usual work uniform. Her alarm had been set at the usual time, and Matron hurried her along, ensuring that she eliminated, bathed, dressed appropriately, and lubricated and prepared for service. Although my pet did not actually go to work, we had her stand and walk around as she would during her work.
It wasn't long until she was squirming and trying to cross her legs, over stimulated by the friction of her clothing brushing over her engorged and distended clitoris. Even more entertaining was watching her work herself to orgasm simply by repeatedly contracting her pc muscle accompanied by the drag of silk over her exposed clitoral shaft. She came, shuddering as she clung to the door jamb, trying to stay on her feet through the climax.
The sharp climax only left her hungrier. My pet complained of being unbearably horny, aroused and hungry and desperately needy. She gasped and pumped her hips against the air, rocking her way through a second orgasm.
Her system had been so primed by extreme and extended stimulation that her system had been rewired, making her deliciously sensitive and reactive. My pet was a bright girl. It didn't take her long to realize that a return to her previous life was not going to be practical, unlike most of her classmates.
Everyone else would return to their lives and their indulgent Owners, or to the capable hands of the sponsors who had paid for their stay at the Academy. They would remember a month long sexual adventure, and try to recreate the highs and the multiple orgasms in their daily lives, newly dedicated to the pursuit of sexual pleasure.
But my pet had been permanently modified through the extremity of her initial training program. She appeared on the payroll as a model and apprentice, and would go on to star in thousands of hours of extreme kink streaming video available to discerning viewers with deep pockets. In four weeks, I had begun to introduce the very start of the behaviour modification and synaptic sculpting I wanted. I was really looking forward to writing a program of sensory deprivation and extreme sexual stimulation, utilizing the brain washing potential of the program to institute further changes.
With her distended and sensitized clitoris protruding beyond the protection of her outer labia, there was really no way to comfortably wear clothing over her genitals without triggering excessive lubrication and unintended orgasms. I outfitted her in a modified harem outfit, with a waist cincher worn with harem pants. They were really closer to chaps, baring her ass and genitals, a drape of silk around her thighs fitting closely under the suspension restraints she wore on both wrists and ankles.
I enjoyed adorning her beautiful, blackberry rose nipples with jewellery of all kinds, showing a marked preference for jingling bells suspended from delicate chains. Even a normal walking stride stimulated her grossly distended clitoris. A heavy, stainless steel butt plug filled her ass, a glittering cut glass `jewel' mounted in the base, more gems glittering in her ears and around her throat.
It wasn't uncommon to see her desultorily dancing, her arms loosely suspended over her head. She would slowly dance and stimulate herself to multiple orgasms, particularly after she began the belly dancing lessons and Latin dance classes. She wore a perfectly darling Latin dance dress, with just the ruffle than swooped from her hips down to the back of the dress. Of course, she wore it without the underskirt, baring her legs and distended clitoris, her thighs slick with her arousal as she danced.
Once a week, my pet was put through the full training regimen, from the morning suppositories, hydrotherapy and enema training, a complete grooming, and then a session with each of the Academy's senior staff. Of course, she received one hour of alternating ginger and vibration cycling with vacuum suction of her clitoris out of every four hour time period.
C.J. pushed her through a rigorous work out, including a genital whipping that got our little darling off in a big way. Matron put her through a thorough colonic irrigation and then a round of electro-therapy. Jules and Amelia had separate sessions with her, both generally featuring double penetration and extreme clitoral stimulation. Miss Kate put her through a strict lesson in posture and deportment. The stimulation of the fabric from Kate's gown coupled with the vigorous paddling had my pet rocking and wailing through another series of orgasms.
I used the Epino to test her maximum dilation levels for both her vagina and her anus. She clamped down with well trained strength, the endurance developed over weeks of training enabling her to continue flexing according to my instructions as often and as hard as I wanted her to. She demonstrated the benefits of such training so beautifully, having multiple orgasms, sending the pressure gauges dancing as her sphincters clamped down with each self induced climax, triggered simply by the repeated flexion of her PC muscle.
We completed her refresher training with a final round of ginger and suction therapy, bringing her total ginger treatments for her day up to four. This routine weekly treatment ensured that my pet's clitoris maintained the required engorgement and sensitivity.
Although regular clothing was impossible, when outside the Academy my pet generally wore the traditional burkha worn by Afghani women during the Taliban's reign. It discouraged questions, ensured the preservation of her modesty and left her open and available to me according to my whims. Sometimes my pet even wore the sensory deprivation hood under her robes.
As we moved around in public, my pet was always wet and held open by plugs in her ass and cunt, some care taken to provide adequate stimulation of both her nipples and her clitoris. Amelia in particular delighted in the use of remote controlled electrical stimulators that were unerringly focused on the lucky darling's clitoris. She was even put through a ginger treatment and vibration therapy, the activities hidden by her robe as she was put through the treatment while riding the subway. Matron blandly explained her gyrations away as uncontrollable grand mal epilepsy. She crooned brisk endearments and made sure that the vibrations triggered at least one orgasm. She was whisked off the subway at the next stop and bent over a toilet in the ladies bathroom for an enthusiastic paddling that would make her come twice.
Wet and desperate, she would follow me around in a daze as we travelled the city streets and rode in jets. She mounted herself on dildos and fucked herself to orgasm, or climaxed simply from flexing her PC muscle. Her pretty pink rosebud was left gaping open after machine fucking with a fat dildo. Her clitoris was stimulated with hydrotherapy, repeated exposure to raw ginger, powerful vibrations, electrical stimulation and vacuum suction, multiple times throughout each day.
C.J. made her come multiple times, simply by forcing her to complete her physical training routines. The flexible silicone clitoral paddle was soft and warm, wrapping itself around whatever it hit. Just wide enough to wrap across my pet's enlarged clitoral shaft, C.J. spanked her pussy often, soon coaxing wet and sloppy sounds from that eager cunt. The silicone strap was all heat and sting, setting my pet's clitoris on fire. She yelped and squirmed, her cunt gushing and convulsing with each new strike on her distended clitoris.
Wailing, my pet was slapped through to orgasm once and then again. Her clitoris was even more swollen than usual, flushed a deeper rose, like ripe raspberries. The raw ginger was a familiar torment, the burn heating delicate tissues already on fire from the tireless slapping of the silicone strap. She shuddered and sobbed as the ginger burned, the effect enhanced by the usual powerful vibrations.
Suction, as always, totally devastated her. The stimulation of the vacuum therapy on her sensitized and engorged clitoris triggered shrieking, leg shaking orgasms that left her dazed and exhausted. I took her out for lunch in a spanking skirt that hobbled her legs and exposed her pretty bottom for my lavish attention. The latex skirt was carefully lubricated with thick silicone lubricant, ensuring the maximum effect on my pet's well trained clitoris. With her legs bound together, she stimulated her clitoris with every short stride.
She wore the burkha over the outfit, hurrying along on her tip toes beside me. Once inside the limo, I bared her buttocks and played with her asshole as I spanked her until her ass was the proper shade of pink. She was wet to her knees, having come multiple times while walking along and twice during her spanking.
Removing the skirt, I spread her out across the bench seat, fastening her ankles to the restraint points over her head. The position folded her in half, rolling her pelvis up to expose her ass and sex. Gloving up both hands, I pumped a generous quantity of lubricant over my latex clad fingers and settled in to play.
After the long weeks of training, my pet was deliciously sensitive. She clamped down eagerly on my fingers, softening sweetly as I slipped two thumbs inside that hungry ass, gently flexing the first joint of my thumbs and holding her open. She convulsed when I slid two fingers down her well prepared clitoris.
I eased a single finger into her ass, coring her with my well lubricated digit. One finger swiftly became two. I loved the way her anal sphincter clung to my knuckles, trying to clamp down but unable to grip with the generous coating of lube over slick latex. I dabbled several fingers in her gushing cunt, adding even more lubrication to the ooze that coated her sex and thighs. The largest rectal dilator held her wide open, the shaft well lubricated, the ventilation hole preventing any pressure build up, ensuring the my pet could wear the device comfortably for hours.
My pet walked with the aid of two attendants, who steadied her if she faltered while walking. The stimulation of the enormous rectal dilator coupled with the repeated brush of fabric over her enlarged clitoris and the gliding caress of her own labia slipping across the engorged mucous membranes with each stride added up to a glorious level of arousal. My pet came frequently, experiencing powerful multiple orgasms.
She was wet and desperate, her body open and available to me, slick and ready for use. I could penetrate either or both of her holes, and stimulate that extremely well trained clitoris. She was naked under the robe, her thighs slick and wet with her sexual fluids. Even if the burkha covered her from head to toe, she was still naked and exposed, unable to hide either her sexual arousal or her frequent orgasms as she was encouraged to walk, further stimulating her short circuiting senses.
This was her function as a pet, to be a sexual athlete always wet and needy and ready for use. She proudly displayed herself as she masturbated to climax, using either her hands or the toys that were selected for her use. Matron always trotted along beside her, equipped with the tools of her trade and the medical excuses that explained away the convulsive movements and muffled cries.
There was even a remote controlled electro-stimulator that clamped firmly around my pet's permanently enlarged clitoral shaft. She stumbled along, soon learning how to use the walker we gave her. Leaning on the handles, she shuffled along, hips jerking convulsively as she inescapably stimulated her distended clitoris. This desperate dance while impaled upon the largest rectal dilator was quite entrancing, particularly with addition of a brisk paddling. The judicious application of the strap ensured a brisk walking pace as well and heating her ass and thighs to the proper shade of pink.
My pet was quite the perfect pleasure toy, trapped in a perfect biofeedback loop of increasing arousal, her system hotwired, her body radically modified by the extreme stimulation. There would be no going back for her, no way to ever have anything approaching a normal life.
The only way to avoid stimulating her highly reactive clitoris was to spread herself as wide as possible, both her holes open and available, offered up for use. Of course, it left her clitoris so deliciously vulnerable. It generally wasn't long before one of the Academy's senior staff had imagined some new way to provide extreme stimulation and further body modifications for my very pampered pet.
We steadily increased the level of electrical stimulation applied during her treatment sessions, increasing the current and fiddling with the frequency of the cycles until the most effective settings were determined.
Amelia and Jules spent a few months tinkering with a motorized wheel chair and then dragooned Jess to help them with a few software routines and a bit of kinky robotics. After a sleepless night of brainstorming and more than a little evil laughter, further modifications were made^Åand work started on one of those electric carts that seniors often drive, the four wheeled scooters. I rather suspected that it would be modified for use other than that intended by the original manufacturer.
My pet had experienced her usual morning routine: Glycerine suppositories and a vibrating butt plug for one hour. A brisk paddling to start her day and then it was time for a mineral oil flush and a further paddling while retaining the mineral oil, giving everything a chance to finish loosening up. The next step was vacuum suction to her nipples while receiving clitoral hydrotherapy to encourage the voiding of her bladder and bowels. Rectal massage with soap and then a second round of clitoral hydrotherapy, as her bowel was flushed three times.
She was immediately mounted on an examination table for one hour of alternating ginger vibration and suction for her clitoris, which was by that time so enlarged that it required a custom made suction tube to accommodate its increased length and girth. It stood up proudly beyond the protection of her labia when her legs were closed, leaving a surface area approximately the size of a big man's thumb exposed and vulnerable.
Her nipples received alternating vacuum therapy and electro-stimulation, keeping my pet's attention nicely focused on the things she should concentrate on. C.J. worked her hard. No matter what other extremes we pushed her body to, we also made sure that she had both the muscular strength, endurance and the flexibility required to do the things we demanded of her. C.J.'s training was of primary importance, and never slighted, no matter what else might be going on in my pet's training.
Our resident Amazon had my pet stand at attention, hands laced behind her head, feet placed precisely 1.5 metres apart to make herself available for inspection. C.J. grunted, commented on her lubrication levels and ordered her on to the treadmill. After a one mile slow jog, there was one full hour of vigorous physical training and callisthenics followed by a demanding stretching routine.
My pet stood at attention for her paddling, as C.J. used first a leather slapper on her ass and thighs and then the silicone strap, whipping those well trained nipples. She made herself more available for her clitoral whipping, rolling on her back, hoisting her knees up to her shoulders, holding her ankles up and as wide apart as possible with each hand to ensure the maximum exposure to stimulation.
C.J. was a genius at clit whipping. She used that strap to make my pet just gush with arousal. She slowly increased both the frequency and the severity of her strokes until the required level of stimulation was achieved. My pet was required to have at least two orgasms, and the whipping would continue without respite until those climaxes were achieved.
The attendants bathed her and took care of all the routine fluff and body maintenance, then delivered her to the Academy's workshops, where Jules and Amelia and Jess had been closeted for hours each day for months now. The rest of us were dying of curiosity.
We all had enjoyed tormenting my pet and forcing her to come repeatedly in any number of ways. Sally took particular delight in transporting her and explaining away her orgasmic convulsions as uncontrollable fits. The nurse's uniform and doctor's notes were typical of her gleeful brand of perversion. The walker and the use of the burkha had broadened the possibilities for public extreme play with our pet, but our kinky geeks in residence had put their twisted little minds together for new alternatives.
Many of our more advanced games required the use of electricity in some way, either to run a powerful vibrator or in the form of direct electro-therapy. Motorized wheelchairs and electric carts run on big batteries, as do golf carts. Amelia's fascination with electro-therapy, Jules' fabrication and hard engineering skills and Jess' software and skill with small scale robotics all conspired to come up with some fascinating new toys.
Matron Sally had provided valuable assistance, particularly for some of the medical restraints incorporated into the first device. Based on a motorized wheel chair for someone with severe disabilities and very limited mobility, it had been hugely modified to provide a wide range of stimulation options.
There were multiple options for anal and or vaginal penetration, including dilation and compression as during Epino training, spinning or thrusting penetration, multiple settings for the speed, power and cycle frequency for multiple vibrators, electrical stimulation options that were essentially limited only by the imagination and even a suction device and several dispensers for lube and conducting jelly.
My pet did not look reassured as C.J. and Matron kicked the tires and discussed possible training programs incorporating the new device. Jess was showing Kate how the on board laptop computer used a few simple commands on the touch screen to walk the trainer through the options. Jules looked like she wanted to hand out cigars and Amelia just shot me an evil grin, a startling expression on the face of a sweet faced middle aged soccer mom.
Most electrical stimulation used for sexual purposes isn't terribly powerful, to avoid any risk of causing heart problems or nerve damage. That meant that it was easy to divert power from extra batteries fitted to the motorized wheel chair. The same principles had been applied to the second and larger toy, a motorized cart that no longer went anywhere.
More about that later^Å.
My pet's thighs were slick from her perpetually oozing cunt by the time everyone was tired of playing with the settings on the device and wanted to give it a test run. "I'm going to start her with the basic number five rectal dilator," Amelia began. It was the largest of the dilators, and while our pet was trained to accommodate even greater rectal dilation, this was definitely the largest device ever in her ass. All dildos and vibrators used were of smaller girth, many topping out at the size of the number four dilator. "She's going to be here for a while," Amelia explained cheerfully.
She then demonstrated the vibration capabilities. The sound of the motor startled everyone with its power, a deep purring roar that soon had us all grinning ear to ear in anticipation. Even my pet whimpered gleefully. There were several other settings and vibration options, but for this first test drive, Amelia chose that deep powerful throb for the largest rectal dilator, ensuring that our pet's first impression was a lasting one. The familiar suck, hiss and thump of the vacuum pump startled a laugh out of me. I clapped Jules on the shoulder, the dirty dog, congratulating her on her creativity. Our pet sort of propped herself up on the arms of the chair as Amelia fiddled with connections and fittings. The clitoral stimulator was the bastard hybrid creation of our resident evil geniuses. Fashioned of high tech silicone, it sealed tightly against her pubic bone, riding the delicate hollow between her outer labia and the base of the clitoral shaft, ending in a balloon shaped plug that rode inside her gushing cunt, pulling out against the sphincter and snuggled up tight against her g-spot. It provided a firm anchor point for the clitoral stimulator, particularly since our pet's body would be transmitting the powerful vibrations from the rectal dilator she was impaled upon.
There were tiny supply lines inside the attachment, delivering additional lubrication through the inserted tip of the vaginal bulb as well as at the midway point between the head of her clitoris and the top of her vagina, where gravity further wick the lube into her cunt. There were multiple supply lines over the plump and meaty clitoris, dispensing either lubricant or freshly squeezed ginger juice.
Jules swore she was putting a juicer and an espresso machine on the larger cart. I almost believed her.
The clitoral attachment fitted firmly against the pet's permanently distended genitals. There were multiple stimulation points for electro-therapy and the entire arrangement would turn into a suction fitting when the vacuum pump cycled on. Much to Amelia's delight, the chair and its attachments made it possible to provide simultaneous vacuum and electro-stimulation therapies.
Amelia soon had our pet mounted and secured. Her head was strapped to the skull support, her body strapped into the medical body brace, securing her in an upright position in the chair. Her legs were parted slightly, making room for the clitoral attachment, the seat of the chair specially modified to provide secure, padded support and room for the instrumentation. There were restraint points just above and below her knees as well as at her ankles. Her upper arms and wrists were also strapped down.
Grinning, Jess started the sequence that would put our pet through a variant of a very familiar training sequence. The supply lines dripped fresh ginger over her clitoris during the vibration sequence, alternating with the vacuum and electrical stimulation therapies. The plug in her cunt vibrated and provided a delicious stream of current directly to her g-spot and the enormous dilator in her ass throbbed with ten times the power she was accustomed to. It shook her entire body, although the noise was only a muted hum, barely covering the sound of the compressor.
She was too well secured to do more than writhe, squirm and twitch, her face twisting as she panted and gasped and cried out. "Now, ladies," Amelia said briskly, "we may transport our pet as desired." Using the controls on the back of the wheel chair, Amelia guided the chair and our convulsing pet out of the work shop and on to the freight elevator, leading a trail of grinning perverts.
On the main floor, Amelia led the way off the elevator and through the halls of the Academy. Attendants were holding forth is several classrooms, and groups of sweating young ladies in their sports bras and running shoes were engaged in a vigorous workout.
There were wide eyes and slack jaws as we trundled past with our pet in her chair, cheerfully squirming as she came, yelping out her thanks to the wicked inventors. Amelia just laughed and informed us that this was only the beginning. With a few taps of the keyboard, our pet was started on a course of stimulation that had her shuddering and wailing as she came again and again.
I laughed as the champagne cork burst from the bottle. Kate winked at me, and began filling the glasses that Jules produced from a storage cabinet mounted on the back of the chair with a truly understandable flourish.
We toasted the success of the project and our pet, who was too busy having yet another orgasm to join us in our toast. I couldn't even begin to imagine what delights would emerge from the workshop tomorrow, but I suspected it would provide the entire Academy with endless hours of enjoyment.
We may have been Ladies of a Certain Age, but we still knew how to have a good time.