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Archive-name: Slaves/trainin2.txt

Archive-author: K.K.

Archive-title: Reporter, The - 2

                             CHAPTER ELEVEN

                      AN INVITATION AND DISCUSSION

     I was sitting in my room reviewing some of the video tapes from

one of the shelves.  It was difficult for me to imagine these things

happening in real life and I was almost convinced that the guys on my

T.V. screen were actors.  I was in the middle of one that showed a man

being forced to walk, wearing high heels, past a crowd of women when I

heard a knock at my door.

     I opened the door and Kathy was there.  "Hi," she said, "I see

you've been watching television."

     "Interesting productions," I said, "where do you get the actors?"

     "What actors?"

     "The ones in the tapes."

     "Those aren't actors -- they're guys we captured one way or

another.  We taped their training or punishment episodes and sell the

tapes," she said.

     "I can't believe it," I said, "some of those things are

unimaginable.  I mean, a guy can only tolerate so much.  There comes a

point when . . ."

     "When we can no longer understand how they survive it, but they

do," she interrupted.

     "I still can't believe it," I said.

     "Well, this works out well.  Madame Diana sent me to give you a

tour of our facilities.  So far you have only seen the select ones we

used for your pet Danny, but it's time you got the overall picture.

You see, an operation like this can not operate just by supplying a few

subjects to a few customers; we need a variety of products for a larger

clientele," she said.

     "I can't believe that there is that large a clientele for this

sort of thing," I said, feeling a bit self-righteous.

     "Well, I don't know all the details of the business side of the

operation, Madame Diane handles that, but think of it this way:  how

many times have you yourself, before you came here, seen some guy doing

something you didn't like?  Maybe he was acting a bit superior, maybe a

bit drunk and loud, perhaps shouting things at you?"

     I admitted that this happened quite frequently in the big city,

but asked what could be done about it.

     "This is what can be done about it, this entire operation.  Every

woman who has ever had the desire to get even with some man is a

potential customer, and what she wanted to do to him is a potential

need we supply.  The only thing we need to do is let them know that it

is alright to get revenge or to have a little fun," Kathy said.

     "Is that what it's about, then, revenge and fun?"

     "Depends on how you look at it.  For example, many women like to

 dominate men, to control them, almost as an instinct, but do you call

 that revenge?  Fun?  Or just satisfying a need?  In any case, our

 clientele grows daily and we have over 50,000 satisfied customers,"

 she said with certainty.

     "Then how come I haven't heard about it?" I asked.

     "Come now," she said, "Haven't you seen stories about an incident

 here and an incident there.  You just thought of them as isolated

 fantasies when, if fact, there were real stories about real

 situations, mostly involving men we have trained.  On the whole,

 however, our clients prefer to keep this part of their lives to

 themselves and their friends."

     "I still find it hard to believe."

     "Then follow me," she said, as she walked out the door.

                             CHAPTER TWELVE

                           THE TOUR, PART ONE

     "So what would you like to see?  You've already seen the combat,

the dancing, the exercise, the horse training, and the penis pull --

but that was just a demonstration, would you like to see the contest?"

Kathy asked.

     I said that I was ready, as a reporter, to see anything if it

would contribute to the story, but asked what other things there were

to see.

     "Well, let's see, there's the athletic contests, the seminar room,

the art room, the laboratory, other animal training facilities, the

punishment palace . . . I think you'd like to see some other animal

acts, perhaps?"

     "What about other strippers?" I asked.

     "Oh yes," Kathy said, "that's one of our more popular shows, but

it's all pretty much the same idea.  They have to please through

exhibition.  Anyway, those are in the evenings.  Right now, we've got a

new subject for dog training.  Game?"

     I said I was and we were off to the animal facilities center which

was located on the edge of the complex.  I noticed a ring like those in

a circus in the center.  Kathy told me that this was where the training

went on.

     "You're in luck," she said, "because today we try a new technique.

This will be the first time we've tried to tame one without preliminary

conditioning.  He's both an experiment and a control subject.  It's

bound to be particularly cruel," she finished with a giggle.

     In the center of the ring was a woman, but not like Madame Diane.

  This one was attractive, but she looked more like she came from a

  street gang.  "Actually," Kathy said, "she was one of the girls on a

  motorcycle gang and she was used pretty bad.

  Now she wants to get even.  She fought ten girls to get this job."

     I looked at her.  "Oh, yes.  Most of our employees first rented

tapes, then attended contests and shows, and then asked to work for us.

They are all very dedicated workers.  Shh!"

     A door opened and a man stood there.  He was good looking, in his

twenties, but the most interesting thing is how he was dressed.  He was

wearing a coat and tie, dress shoes, the works.  He looked like the

junior partner in a law firm.  I was told that he was captured only a

few hours ago to be trained for a woman who wanted a pet dog.

     "He's lucky," she said, "in that she wanted a Doberman.  He wont

have to be fitted with a tail.  We will have to work on his ears,

though, if he works out.

     I started to ask about this, but the girl, Alice, called Alley,

began.  "Come here, dog."

     The man started to ask where he was, but Alley stopped him.  "Take

off your clothes!" she shouted, and cracked a whip.  This whip was not

like the one used on Danny.  That one would give pain, but was designed

not to cut the skin.  This one was longer, made out of leather, and

branched out into three smaller and sharper whips near the end.  The

man threw up his arms and the sleeve was ripped off.  "Kim!" shouted


     An Oriental girl entered, wearing what looked like a kinomo, but

which had the sides slit up to her waist.  She looked at the man, bowed

to Alley, and went to him.  She kicked him in the groin without

warning, he doubled over, she kneed him in the face, then chopped him

to the throat, he fell, she kicked him again and again, and left as

Alley cracked the whip.

     "Take your clothes off," she repeated.  He took off his jacket,

tie, and shirt, and then hesitated.  Alley whistled the whip and he

finished, down to his colored underwear.  He was flabby compared to

Danny and the others I'd seen here, but then he'd only been here for a

few hours and wasn't bad compared to others I'd seen at the pool.

     "Hands and knees," and the whip hit him.  He got down on his


     "You are a dog, bark" she said.

     He didn't, and was whipped again.  "I see he needs some

discipline," Alley said, and began to whip some more.

     This went on for about twenty minutes and the man was bleeding and

miserable but also yelling and screaming.  "Obviously, it works better

by stages," said Kathy.  "If Alley couldn't do it, nobody could.

Still, Alley will be in charge of this one throughout his training, and

today will take the place of the apartment in his rehabilitation.  We

will check on him later."

     As we left the training room, I felt a bit depressed.  Somehow the

clinical attitude bothered me.

                            CHAPTER FOURTEEN

                                THE TOUR

                                PART TWO

     There was a knock at my door and a handsome young man was standing

there, wearing nothing but a black posing suit and a bow tie.  "Madame

Diana requests the pleasure of your company," he said.

     "Suppose I don't want to go?" I asked.

     He fell to his knees and began to beg me.  "Please, if you don't

come, I'll be sent to punishment or the laboratory, please, I'll do

anything you want."

     I believed him.  "O.K.," I said, "lead away."

     Madame Diana said, "It's time you saw our seminar room.  It's

where we teach our new employees."

     I followed her without a word to an amphitheater type room, the

kind you see in movies about med school.  "The professor is an ex-

anatomy teacher at a large midwestern medical school.  She quit when

she suspected that the men were discriminating against her.  Remember

the injections we gave Danny?  Well, she invented them.  She is working

on NO-COME 2, a combination local anesthetic and stimulant, but


     A well-built woman in a doctor's jacket entered the room and wrote

her name on the board.  Dr. Judith Silverstein.  On the table in front

of her was a man, tied to the bench, with a gag taped in his mouth.  He

was obviously nervous and frightened, but there was nothing he could


     I told Madame Diane that this seemed unfair.  "He has failed in

two consecutive tests.  He gave up in combat after only twenty minutes

of punishment and failed to finish the penis run.  This is his

punishment and our way of improving his attitude ."  She spoke with

such conviction that I didn't say anything else.  Besides, the

professor began to lecture.

     "A man is quite a different creature than a woman.  He is inferior

except in muscle strength in the upper body and, of course, he has

exposed genitalia, which makes our task somewhat easier.  Notice the


     She then proceeded to name the major muscles, while isolating them

with her hands.  At times, I thought she was about to pull one

completely out of the skin.  The man clenched his teeth, sweated,

groaned, whimpered, and howled once as she pulled on his abdominals.

     "Of course, the gag helps, but the noise is still too much," she

said.  "This will quiet him," she said, and poured a liquid into his

mouth which he gaged on and tried to spit out.  "This will paralyze his

vocal chords so he can scream, but not be heard.  Now on with today's


     She pulled the towel that covered his loins and revealed that he

was covered only by a thin strip of cloth, a g-string or posing strap.

He tried to gasp, but we could only hear air passing down his throat.

She then began an elaborate series of experiments designed to determine

which parts of the male body could best be touched to produce an

erection and which would bring it back down.  A slow movement across

the abdominals, for example, brought his penis to attention, and a

sharp squeeze of the balls brought it down.  All this time the man

looked from girl to girl in hope of a savior, but saw only grins and

smirks, or frowns.

     "Now to test my newest compound, NO-COME 2.  It may have side

 effects, but the idea is to expand the penis to its largest potential

 and activity, but to deaden sensation enough so that it will stay

 erect indefinitely.  So far, the record has been one hour, but I think

 we can do better than that here."  With that, she brought out a

 hypodermic and inserted the needle in his scrotum.  He tried to scream

 and, from the agony on his face, it seemed like the most blood

 curdling scream I had ever heard, but no sound came out.

     "Beautiful," she said, as she looked at his penis rise.  "Shit!

How can I examine him with this in the way?" she shouted as she ripped

the g-string from him.  The girls gasped as they saw his penis exposed.

The balls were bluish and the penis throbbed toward the ceiling.  The

professor called for a student to come forward, and there were many

hands up, but she called one from the front row.

     "See if you can make him come," she said, and the girl proceeded

with professional expertise.  I learned that all students first learned

how to masturbate men before they were allowed into this class.  After

about fifteen minutes, she gave up.

     "The most amazing thing about this is that he," she said, sticking

a needle into his pectorals, "didn't feel or enjoy a thing, but he is a

whimpering mess with his whole consciousness on his penis."  And it was

true.  As she poked and jabbed at various parts of his body, he only

thrust his hips upward.  There was none of the crying out that we heard

at the beginning.

     About ten hours later, we returned to the classroom, and he was

still there and IT was still at attention, but he seemed to have lost

about fifteen pounds.  Every muscle stood out and strained.  "Are you

ready to fight again?" she asked him.

     "Yes, please," he said, glad that he could once again speak.

     "And complete the penis pull?"

     "Yes, please, relieve me," he said.

     "Very well," she said, "but first let's get some use out of him."

 She signaled to the girls who lined up.  Each one climbed on top of

 him and brought herself to climax, and still it stood, reaching up as

 if toward the ceiling.  All of a sudden, the clinical atmosphere

 didn't bother me anymore.  I was ready myself to join the fun, but the

 professor decided that it was time to test the antidote.  She inserted

 another hypodermic into his groin.  Soon, untouched, he began to

 squirt all over himself, and I left for my room, hoping I'd find the

 guy who knocked on my door.

                            CHAPTER FIFTEEN

                             MY OWN SERVANT

     When I got to my room, I was still thinking about the seminar as I

looked for the guy who knocked on my door.  I was frustrated to see

that he wasn't there and too caught up to realize that it had been

twenty hours since I left the room.   I looked around and saw the

button over my bed.  I had wondered what it was for, but never gave it

much thought.  This time I pushed it.

     There was a knock on my door within thirty seconds.  I opened the

door, and there he was, complete with the ingenuous briefs that covered

the front but not the back and a bow-tie.

     "Yes ma'am," he said.

     I motioned for him to enter the room and locked the door behind

us.  "You are here to serve me?"

     "I aim to please," he said.


     "Anything," he said evenly.

     "On your knees, then," I said, and he knelt on the floor in front

of me. "And straighten up that back," I added.

     He knelt, back straight, at attention, eyes forward.  I walked or

 paced around the room wondering what to do next.  Here he was, a fine

 physical specimen, at my complete command, and I wasn't sure what to

 do next.  At the same time, I felt a bit of guilt as he knelt so

 submissively before me.

     "Do you feel exposed, wearing only those tiny briefs?" I asked.

     "No ma'am, not if it pleases you," he answered.

     This was a bit frustrating, I thought.  Part of the fun is having

them feel naked or exposed.  There is some pleasure at their

embarrassment, but this one felt none.  I tried another approach.

     "Would you ever have felt exposed, dressed like this, in front of

a strange woman who had complete control over you?"  I asked.

     "Yes ma'am," he said, "in fact, my first time was quite horrible."

     "Tell me about it," I ordered, and this was his story:

     It happened after the amateur body building contest.  I finished

third, mainly because, by bodybuilding standards, I was lean and wiry.

I was, however, quite happy as this was my first contest.  Sure, I had

practiced my posing in from of a mirror in the gym and my coach had

helped me, but it was quite a different thing to perform in front of a

large crowd wearing one of those suits.  My coach said I had done well,

however, and I felt good.

     I dressed and left through the back door, carrying my check for

 $750 and trophy.  All of a sudden, I was surrounded by about fifteen

 girls.  Well, I thought, this bodybuilding racket is pretty good --

 looks like I've got a fan club.  I was ready to sign autographs, even,

 when I felt a sharp thud at the rear of my skull, my knees bent, I

 dropped the trophy, and then blacked out.

     "Look!  I think he's coming around," I heard.  It was a female

voice, but at the time I couldn't say more than that.  My head was

splitting and throbbing at the same time.

     "Give him the shot," another voice said, and I felt a needle enter

my arm.  Slowly my head began to clear.  I tried to rub my eyes, but

found I couldn't.  My wrists were tied out and above my head.  I began

to focus and saw women's faces and the n began to recognize some of

them from earlier.

     "He's awake now," another said, as I suddenly realized my

 situation.  I was bound by my wrists and ankles, spreadeagled on my

 back on a mat.  I was completely naked except for a posing strap, the

 kind artists models sometimes wear, the kind that cover only the penis

 and balls.  I attempted to get up.

     "You're not going anywhere, dear boy," said the one in charge as

the others kind of giggled.

     "Look at his stomach muscles" said another.

     "That's nothing, wait 'till we get him going" said Alice, the one

in charge.  With that, she began to move a long sharp needle up the

insides of my legs and I recoiled.

     "Wow," said another, "I've got a bunch of things I want to do to

him!"  I began to be fully alert and the adrenaline was pumping through

my veins as well as whatever they shot me up with.  Fear or panic,

combined with helplessness were overcoming me, but I tried not to show


     "Look how brave he is," one said.

     "We'll see how long that lasts," said Alice as she came to me with

another needle, this time jabbing ever so lightly and sharply from my

legs, to my stomach, to by chest.

     "Look at those pectorals and abdominals move," she said, over and

 over, for fully ten minutes.  At first, it did not hurt, but by five

 minutes, each jab was a severe shock, by ten minutes it was agony and

 I began to scream out in response to each jab.  My breathing became

 more and more rapid, my pulse was racing, and every part of my skin

 seemed to be on fire.

     "Not so brave now, eh honey?"  she said.  "I see some tears in

your eyes."

     "W,W, Why?" I finally stuttered.

     "Dear boy.  You need to know what men have been doing to women for

years.  You need to know the pain, humiliation, the sense of

subjugation -- and we've just begun.  By the time we finish, you will

beg us to do anything to you."  With that, she turned to the other


     "Now we connect the electric shocks to him and play a high stakes

game.  The winner takes off his strap and continues the torture."

     They hooked up wires to my skin and sat down to play a game of

 poker.  Every five minutes, I received a shock to another part of my

 anatomy.  The game lasted for hours it seemed before one of them won.

 By that time, I couldn't tell one from the other.  She approached me

 and pulled the strap off, first down slowly, and then ripped it off.

 "How do I turn him over?" she asked, and soon I was on my stomach.

 She reached into her purse and pulled a long, fairly thick, plastic

 vibrator from it and began to put Vaseline on it.  Then "see how it

 feels, bastard!" and she began to ram it up my rear with it vibrating.

 I began to scream and she became impassioned "Hurts doesn't it, male

 bitch, see how it feels, let my twist it too." And she did.

     "Turn him over again," Alice yelled.  As it happened, she grabbed

my penis and began to massage it.  Then faster and faster.  The

electric shocks came all at once and Alice pulled as if she wanted to

dismember me "Will it come off lover boy?" she snarled. She pulled more

and I became hard against my weakened will.  I resisted and became as

hard as I had ever been.

     "STOP EVERYTHING NOW!" I heard and turned to see one of the most

self-confident and beautiful women I had ever seen, and everything

stopped.  "This is where I take over."  Apparently she was the real

leader, and she came up to me.  "Poor boy, have they been hurting you?"

She turned to the other women "You've got him good and hard, this will

keep it that way," and she clamped a strap around my penis and balls.

Then everyone sat down.

      Carol, the new leader, then told one to get refreshments and the

girls sat and talked.  After about fifteen minutes, I could hardly

stand the agony of lying there with my balls getting harder and harder.

Then Carol began to talk:  "You've all done well, but I know men and

this one has not yet been fully humiliated.  He is only hurt,

frightened, and looking to escape.  Soon he will do anything to relieve

the pain building up in his groin.  Then we will see."  Meanwhile, more

of the girls I had seen the night before became to come into the room.

Soon I had an audience of over 50.

     Carol came up to me and said "I bet it hurts, doesn't it?  What

will you do for me?"

     "Let me go," I managed to say.

     "Naughty boy, answer questions when you're asked" she said and

connected the wires to my penis and turned the switch on.  I screamed

so loud I had to stop and began to cough.

     "Looks at his muscles ripple," one said and the others began to


     "Tie the leash to him," Carol said.  "Cut him loose,"

      "Now follow me like a good boy, and do what I say, and you won't

 be harmed.  If you behave badly, this will happen," she said as one

 girl stuck me in the rear with a cattle prod.  The pain was terrific,

 but it didn't bother me as much as it would have.

      It was about then that I got a strange idea.  I though if only I

could relieve this agony in my balls, the whole thing would be over.

That's what it's all about anyway, I felt.  I began to reach down and

actually touched my penis when Carol shouted "Naughty Boy!  Tie his

arms behind him."  And it was done.

     At this point I was aware only of my groin and the women screaming

around me, but I didn't even care much about them.  I tried to relieve

my self by rubbing my penis against a chair, and on of the women hit me

there with the cattle prod.  The pain was enormous, but no relief came.

I fell to the floor hoping to do it that way, but I was flipped on my

back.  First Carol pulled down her pants and straddled me, moving up

and down rapidly until she reached a climax, but the restraints on my

ball s kept me erect and wanting to continue.  One by one, fifty of

them either straddled and sat on me or sucked like mad, but still I

couldn't come, although I did my best.  "Look at that courage -- a man

with a hard on will do anything," one said.

     "By this time, I was given a sedative and brought here.  I've been

through the training program and feel nothing but the desire to please

women," he concluded.

     This was quite a story by itself, and I was getting hot listening

to his rendition of it.  "On your back on the bed," I commanded.

     He complied, and I tied him, wrists and ankles, to the posts which

were already equipped for such things.  I then opened the closet and

found some short whips and began to lash him on the legs and chest.  I

could see that he was beginning to feel the pain and his desire to

please fought with his pain.  I whipped like a woman in a frenzy and he

writhed back and forth.  I then found a ring.  I pulled off his briefs

and exposed his penis.  It was flaccid, shrinking from me.  I pulled on

one ball which was trying to escape into him and pulled it through the

ring.  Then came the other.  The ring seemed full, but I managed to

work his penis through it as well, much to his discomfort.  I then

massaged it and saw it rising against his will.  Finally, it was fully

erect.  I could see the pain in his scrotum on his face and tears in

his eyes, but I only became more aroused.

     I grabbed a towel and wet it with cold water.  I splashed him with

cold water and then whipped him with the towel.  Then I pulled out the

whip again and lashed him, holding it like a batter in baseball.

     Then I got the idea to reenact part of his story.  I found a dildo

in the closet, oh marvelous closet, greased it up, and pushed it into

his ass.  Oh how I pushed and twisted it!  And how he writhed in pain!

It was lovely, the height of life and ecstasy!  Thus muscular man in

such pain, under my control, surely I was making my mark on his life,

perhaps penetrating deep parts of his subconscious fears.  I renewed my

efforts and began to chew on his penis at the same time.  The chewing

turned into biting and he let out tremendous screams.  I was in heaven!

     I climbed on his cock and began to pump up and down, up and down,

up and down and around, over and over again, until I came.  I then

loosened his bonds, ordered him out the door, locked it again, and

slept the deepest sleep I had for years.

                            CHAPTER SIXTEEN

                          A BIT OF PERSPECTIVE

     This last episode changed my way of thinking in many ways.  First

of all, the fact that I slept so well proved to me that I had no

regrets over the incident.   In fact, it seemed the natural order of

things and that I was content for the first time since I was a little

girl in grade school.

     I later did some research on the subject, and found that the first

 organized societies were matriarchal, that the women controlled the

 society.   Their mistake was in electing one man of the tribe to be

 king for a year.  This "king" was literally worshipped as a god for

 the one year and then sacrificed in a ritual and then replaced by


     Eventually, the one "king" managed to extend the time of his rule

until the women lost control of the society.  Madame Diane was not

aware of this historical background, but she was on the right track:

"This time, the women will maintain control over a large number of men

who will be our slaves.  In addition, the weak or ugly will be

liquidated so as to keep the population standards up and to reduce the

number.  This will prevent them from ever taking control again.

Finally, we will maintain tight control over them at all stages.  Only

under these conditions can woman be happy in her rightful place as


     Diane looked at me.  "It's been a while since you've seen Danny.

Why don't we go by the gym on our way to the contests?" she asked,

smiling with her lips drawn tight.

     I agreed, never even asking what kind of contests she had in mind.

I knew that they would be something to watch!

                           CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

                             SOME CONTESTS

     We went past the gym and I stood at my favorite spot, behind the

one-way mirror, and watched Danny as he was put through his workout.

His trainer worked him hard, sometimes making him lift heavy weights

for a few times, and sometimes not-so-heavy weights many times.  "If

you're interested, I'll have her explain our system to you," Madame

Diane said.

     I continued to watch.  Somehow Danny looked different to me, and

it wasn't his appearance, it was in the way I looked at him.  He no

longer evoked pity or sympathy, but was something to use.  I was

beginning to look forward to the party in a different way as well.

     "Ready to go?  We'll have to drive a bit," she said.

     "What do you think?" I said, and we left.

     We drove for about fifteen minutes to a large stadium behind the

building complex.  "Here we have all the major contests -- hockey,

baseball, soccer, etc.  Which would you like to see?" she asked.

     I started to answer, but she interrupted me.  "Well forget it.,"

she said.

     "We started to have those games, and it was good, in a way.  For

example, baseball.  The guys really looked cute in their outfits.  All

primary colors.  The blue team had these briefs colored solid blue.  We

couldn't make the front too brief because we needed cups, but we were

able to expose their asses using creative fabric cutting and elastic.

They had these cute caps and shoes, all matching the briefs, and white

socks.  The trouble was that the catcher had to be protected and the

quality of the play wasn't very good.  It was fun watching them

struggle to look good and make mistakes, but it was simply cute, no

tension.  Hockey, the same thing, the goalie.  Soccer was better, but

still the quality wasn't there.  One of the main problems, as I saw it,

was that these were team sports, encouraged the males to establish

bonds with one another, and even generated a few leaders, even though

the coaches and umpires were all women.  Now, the sports we have appeal

to women, not men."

     I was all for this, I said, and wondered what sort of sports she

had designed.  "You've already seen three of the most popular, the

wrestling matches, the races, and the penis pull.  These are some of

the others," she said as we sat down.

     Two men were led out onto the field by their trainers.  One wore

blue thongs and the other yellow (thongs, I found out, was the name for

the briefs with very little buttock coverage).  They were made to stand

in front of two metallic circles on

the ground.

     "Those are electric shockers," Diana said.  "They start out at 120

volts and, with each push-up, they are reduced one volt.  If the

competitor does not do at least sixty push-ups, he is in for a real

stinging.  Even so, his trainer can increase the voltage at any time."

     And so the two men were commanded to begin.  Both were well-built,

but that was to be expected because of the training program.  The

first twenty push-ups were uneventful, but then the muscles began to

warm up.  Twenty more, and the strain began to show.  At sixty, it

became clear that each one was an effort.  The men first tried to cheat

by bending forward at the waist, leaving their asses delightfully

exposed.  Cameras flashed, but they were oblivious.  The trainers,

however, stepped on them with their heels.  Next they locked their legs

and their buttocks tensed.  Their arms and shoulders grew to massive

proportions.  The women watching grew excited and shouted encouragement

to their favorite, on whom some had placed substantial bets.  Finally,

both collapsed, one a split second before the other.  Both   received a

massive jolt of power to their cocks and rolled over.

     The one in blue won, so he would be rewarded.  His trainer came up

to him, pulled down his briefs, and masturbated him in front of the

crowd.  He was then led off the field.

     The one in yellow lost, so he would be punished, both to teach him

to try harder and to appease the women who had bet on him.   "The

hammock, hammock, hammock," the women were shouting.

     The man was taken to four stakes in the ground, about four feet

 high.  He was chained hand and foot to each stake so the he was facing

 the ground, making a human hammock.  Alley cam with her whip and began

 to swing in time to the chants.  The man screamed out at each one, the

 pain was so intense.  After few minutes, he was visibly weeping.

     "There, there, did it hurt?" she asked.  "Well, try this," she

said, and stuffed a dildo into his ass.

     Then another approached and cut off his yellow briefs.  A machine

that looked like a milking machine was attached to his cock and balls.

"This is a creation of one of our engineers.  It strokes his penis

until it reached a certain point, and then squeezes his balls until he

becomes limp, and over and over again.  This could last hours," Diana


     "When do you stop," I asked.

     "When he says the right thing," she said.

     "What is that?" I asked.

     "Depends on how we feel," she said.

     I watched as the machine began to work.  I could see the

expression on the man's face as he awake to desire and then blanched in

pain.  Over and over.

     "Help, please stop it," he cried, but they just sat there, rubbing

themselves between their legs.  This continued for three hours and some

of the women obviously reached multiple climaxes.

     "Please, anything else, anything," he cried.

     Still, Madame Diana watched.  His already tensed and spent muscles

renewed themselves as he twisted and turned, struggling against the

machine and his chains.  Alley started with the whip again.  The man

was crying and begging, but still the torment continued.  "Mommy," he

cried, and Madame gave a signal.

     The machine stopped and so did Alley.  He was released and fell to

his face.  He doubled up.  "On your back, baby," Alley said, and the

man turned over.  Alley licked him between the legs and he was carried

off the field and put into a cage.

     "This one will perform well as a servant," Diana said, and looked

to the far end of the field.

     Two glass cages were rolled out onto the center.  They were filled

with water and had a bar across the top.

     "This is the endurance test to see which can stay under the

longest.  Our record so far is a minute and a half, although we could

no better with warmer water," Diana said.

     The two men, this time wearing blue and red posing straps, were

lowered into the water and the timer began.  After about forty seconds,

I could see the agony the experienced trying to stay under.  The had

seen the previous punishment and knew that theirs would be worse so the

pushed themselves down using the bar and kicked and writhed, bent and

turned, in the most provocative and erotic movements I had ever seen,

just to keep under.  Both struggled with courage and I found myself

wishing I could see their struggles in slow motion.  Finally, after two

minutes and ten seconds, both came up for air, and the contest was

declared a draw.  Both men breathed heavily to recapture the oxygen

they had lost during their ordeal, both unaware of their near nudity.

I wondered what Madame Diana would do to resolve the draw.

     Her solution was particularly sadistic and delightful.  "We will

see how well the male animal uses his strength to preserve his

manhood," she said.

     She ordered leather ropes, one end tied around their cocks, and

 the other looped around portable pulley machines that were wheeled out

 to the field.  "You will be raised into the air by the ropes, but you

 will be allowed to hold to the ropes with

 your hands," she said.

     Up they went, fifteen feet into the air.  Holding on for dear

life.  If they let go, or even weakened, their weight would be borne by

their cock and balls.  Oh, how they held on while we shouted at them.

One of the girls, after fifteen minutes, got the idea of splashing them

with cold water.  A few more adventurous ones began to tickle them, but

still they held on.  You had to see it to believe how a well-built man

looks after he has been struggling for hours.  His muscles first become

larger and he begins to sweat.  Then they start to quiver and seem to

knot and he begins to chill, then the process repeats itself -- at

least it did today.  After a long while, one began to slip slowly.  He

tried to loop his hand around the rope, and Alley lashed him hard a few

times.  Still he clung tight.  Alley signaled the rope to be lowered

and she ripped off his red strap and signaled again and he was jerked

up again.  He continued to grip and tried to cross his legs to cover

himself.  Alley signaled again, and he was lowered again.  She took a

knife and cut his hands and up he went again.  Now he couldn't hold on

His hands slipped off the rope and clutched at his penis as he

screamed.  Then he lost control, screaming, hanging only from his cock.

Kicking and waving his arms which only made the agony more severe, he

wailed and cried.  He was let down at a signal and whimpered, curled

up.  He was carried away.

     The one in blue was let down and tied to a wall spreadeagled.  One

 of the girls ran up and pulled down his strap, but left the rope

 attached.  She put her mouth around his cock and sucked until he spent

 himself.  He was let down and led away by the rope.

     "Well, that was refreshing," said Madame Diana.  "What would you

like to do now?"

      "I'm not sure," I said, "but I feel a bit tired."

     "I know," she said.  "Sometimes I have to take a few days off and

visit the outside world to get new ideas and also to refresh myself.

Too much of this, and one begins to wonder if it's worth it.  Let's go

out for dinner."

     I agreed.  We drove back to the main building and I went to my

room and took a nap.  That evening, we went out on the town.  We

visited strip joints, night clubs, and walked by a brothel.  To see,

once again, how men treated women in our unnatural society made me feel

much better about what Madame Diane was doing.  I felt better about

what I was doing as well.  I guess the scene where a fat, ugly, man

whipped a girl with a coat hanger settled things in my mind.  I also

thought about the thousands of unwanted pregnancies and back-alley

abortions women had to undergo each year.  Yes, there was much work to

be done.

                            CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

                               THE PARTY

     Now I was determined not just to have a good party with my

friends, but to actually make a few converts.  I knew that I could do

this two ways:  first, the girls had to remember the times when men had

taken advantage of them, and second, they had to have a good time.  I

spent days making plans, and Madame Diana and Mistress Kathy helped

with several suggestions.  I think Kathy offered the most creative

events, but that Diana was able to think of the more diabolical twists

should we need them.  Danny would be the main attraction, but several

other would be held in reserve.

     The guests started to arrive about seven.  I had Danny dressed in

light blue shorts with split sides, blue slippers, a light blue cape,

bow tie, and, for effect, a kind of bunny tail sewn on the rear of his

shorts.  My guests were somewhat taken aback when he greeted them at

the door and took their coats, but we all sat down and began to talk in

the living room.  Most of the talk was about old times, what was going

on now, and what I was doing lately.  I took that to be my cue and

motioned for Danny to kneel down in the center of us.  I mentioned that

I was doing research on a book concerning proper male and female roles

and the conversation began to roll again.

     After a few drinks, however, one of the girls began to look more

closely at Danny.  "My, he is a hunk," she said, "does he lift


     "He does indeed.  In fact, he is on a special program.  Remove

your cape, Danny," I said.  The reaction was quick.

     The girls responded with sounds of approval.  One said "does he

dance?"  I told them to wait and sent Danny to the bedroom.

     He appeared a few minutes later with the music in the background.

A few minutes into the dance, he removed his shorts to leave him in a

posing suit, also light blue, and the girls grabbed the shorts.  Danny

gyrated on the floor, exciting my friends even more.  Then he braced

his back with his hands, balanced on his back and elbows, and pointed

his legs toward the ceiling, making it easy for me to remove the posing

suit, leaving him with just a posing strap, also light blue, to toss to

one of the girls who was quieter than the others.  The music ended, but

my friends wanted more.

     "Show them your workout," I said, and made him do situps while one

of the girls sat on his ankles.  Next push-ups while another sat on his

shoulders.  She was getting wet between the legs, her eyes began to

roll back, and she shouted "faster, faster!"

     Then I make Danny give horse rides but interrupted after about

fifteen minutes.  "Wait, he is not yet a real horse," I said, and

removed his blue strap.  I wound the nylon rope around his cock and

balls, just like at the stadium, across his chest, and over his

shoulders.  Then the tail.  I greased it up and worked it into his

tight ass as he flinched and blushed.  I was about to whip him then,

but decided to let one of the girls ride him, and she did.

     "What next girls?" I asked above the noise.

     Most of them began to take their clothes off and one said "I want

that cock inside me," and the other agreed.

     "O.K., you'll all get your chance -- tie him down," I said.  I

watched as they swarmed over him, tying him hand and foot to the rings

set up one the floor for that purpose.  "Now sit back a bit, and I

promise you a real treat."

     I took the syringe out of my purse and filled it from a small

bottle.  It was the formula displayed in the seminar room.  Danny gave

a gasp of pain as I injected it into his shrinking member, and the

girls looked on in a bit of horror.  "Girls, he's here for our

pleasure, not his.  let us sit back and watch."

     We sat on the floor around him and watched his penis grow to

fullness.  We turned down the lights a bit and began to look on in

reverence.  One moved toward him and began to stroke him.  He moved

his hips upward, seeking relief, but none would come for hours.

Another put her mouth over it and nibbled.  He began to breath heavily

and give out sharp quick moans with each bite.  Another moved toward

him and began to pull the few hairs remaining on his balls.  Finally

one pulled down her panties and sat on him, moving up and down.  She

rode him for ten minutes.  moaning with delight with each orgasm.  The

other lined up as they saw his penis still stand erect.  "What a

wonderful drug!" another shouted, and she climbed aboard.  All fifteen

of us rode him for hours.  About thirty minutes into the torture,

Danny's muscles began to shiver and tremble, but this just made us

hornier.  We were on every part of his body, into his ass, on his

prick, no restraint but just using him as much as we could.  It was a

wonderful gang bang release of pent up frustration and orgiastic


     When we were all spent, we rested, just watching Danny's muscles

 quiver and his penis pulsate.  One of the girls videotaped the entire

 session.  It was quiet, just the sounds of an occasional ice-cube

 clinking against a glass and a match lighting a cigarette interrupted

 the sound of Danny breathing and trembling.  The muscles on his body

 stood out more and more sharply as the night passed.  Then we each had

 one more slow and voluptuous turn at him, this time in no hurry, but

 savoring the sacred penis within us.


     There was a great deal more to describe, but further details are

unnecessary here.  They will be described in future appendixes,

however.  What is important here is that my party produced fifteen

converts.  Each of those will go on to produce more converts.  Although

Madame Diana's ranch is the most prominent, others are developing to

supply an ever-increasing demand, some of them appealing to the more

refined, soft-core tastes, and some even more cruel and debased than


     These centers are springing up throughout Latin America and

Europe, as well as Africa.  I have even heard of one in Finland

specializing in winter sports.

     Every day, healthy men disappear off the streets, but now we know

where they are going.  Special squads have developed whose only job is

to abduct candidates for training.

     This is all as it should be.  Men have ruled women for centuries,

enslaving them and debasing them, often leaving them to starve.  Our

men are well-fed if they perform well and have a home for as long as

they maintain their stamina.

     This is the wave of the future, a return to the natural order of

things.  I am much happier now, and so are the women who are joining me

in larger numbers each day.  If any men are reading this, I urge you to

volunteer for service for volunteers are allowed special privileges not

accorded to captives, and eventually, we will get you.  Who knows, you

may be under observation right now!



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