The Compound (11 page)

Finally Master John stepped back, leaving Alexis bathed in sweat and shuddering with post-orgasmic spasms, arms and legs spread wide and taut in her bonds. When she had finally stilled, completely spent, Master John unknotted and unwrapped the rope that bound her wrists and ankles.

Alexis was limp as a ragdoll as Master John lifted her into his arms and lay her down on a yoga mat on the floor near the table. Her head fell to the side, and after a while of drifting in a semi-conscious state, her eyes finally fluttered opened. Without a conscious decision to do so, she found herself looking to see if Master Paul was watching her. Would he approve?

He wasn’t there.

Feeling suddenly bereft, Alexis turned her head back to face her trainer, who had crouched down beside her. She had to concentrate to focus on Master John, who was now speaking.

“I’m pleased, Alexis. You were holding back initially, but I think you’re showing some potential. We’ll keep working on associating pleasure and pain. And I think, too, some focus on your ass is definitely in order to desensitize you in that area.”

Alexis struggled to keep her feelings from her face, but realized she probably failed, as Master John’s eyebrows rose, his lips tugging downward in a frown. “You have a problem with that?”

“No,” Alexis said quickly, though it was a lie. “No, Sir.”

“Good.” Reaching into his pocket, Master John again produced her leash, which he clipped to her collar. “We have time for a shower before lunch,” he said. “Right after your enema.”

Chapter 7

“The concept here, Alexis,” Master John said, “is to stop trying to anticipate or control the outcome. In just the little time we’ve spent together, you’ve made it clear you have issues with giving up control. If you ever want to get to that place where true submission is possible, you have to surrender, not just physically, not just mentally, but all of it. You have to give me everything you’ve got.”

Alexis lay on a thick, soft towel that had been laid over the exam table in the slave quarters bathroom. She was glad at least that her face was to the wall during the procedure. She was lying on her side, her top leg drawn up toward her chest. Her hands were cuffed together in front of her, nestled between her breasts. The cuffs were clipped to a chain that attached to the O ring at the front of her collar.

Master John stood behind her. The enema bag had been prepared and hung on an IV pole. “First
, we’ll lubricate the area with Vaseline,” he said. “I’ve found this works better than a water-based lubricant. Less irritation when the nozzle is removed.” He put his hand on her hip, stroking her for a moment.

The hand was removed and she could hear the sounds of a latex glove snapping into place on his hand. “Lie still and relax.”

Easy for you to say,
Alexis couldn’t help thinking, as she felt a finger, gooey with thick lubricant, rim her asshole and then slip inside. He moved slowly in a gentle swirling motion, and Alexis felt her body relaxing.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Master John said, his finger still inside her ass. “I will insert the nozzle into your anus and slowly release the fluid. Your job is to relax and open yourself. Don’t clench your muscles. Don’t resist me in any way. Remember, this is about surrender. You aren’t going to get to that place you seek until you truly surrender.”

Finally he withdrew his finger. Alexis flinched a little when she felt the rubber nozzle between her ass cheeks.

“Take a deep breath and then let it out slowly,” Master John said in a soothing voice. “That’s it. In…and out…” As he spoke, Alexis felt the rubber head of the nozzle pushing past the ring of muscle and in spite of
herself, she could feel her muscles clenching. As the nozzle pushed in deeper she squeezed her eyes shut.

Though Alexis was aware some people found enemas
an erotic form of submission, for her the idea of an enema held zero appeal. Or more correctly, negative appeal. It wasn’t just the thought of someone squirting a bunch of liquid directly into her intestines, but what came after. She would have to use the toilet, and she was almost certain Master John would stand there and watch her. Just the thought of this humiliation made her fingers curl into fists.

“Stop it.” Master John’s voice became stern. “I can feel your resistance. Open yourself to receive what I give you, not just physically, but mentally, too. You’re untrained, I get that. So for now, just know I want this for you, and therefore you will accept it. Your ultimate goal as a submissive is not only to accept what your Master wants for you, but to embrace it precisely because he wants it.”

Alexis took another deep breath and let it out slowly as she consciously tried to relax.

“Better.”

Alexis felt a sudden, warm gush of liquid released inside of her.

“Oh!” she cried involuntarily.

“Breathe,” Master John urged again. She felt another rush of warmth inside her, and then a sudden painful cramping in her intestines.

“It hurts. I think I have to go!” Alexis cried, her face flaming with embarrassment.

“Not yet,” Master John said. “You’ve only taken about half the bag. You can take more. The cramping will ease. Deep breaths.”

Alexis willed her body to accept what was happening, praying she wouldn’t have an accident right there on the table. It seemed to go on forever, but finally Master John said, “There. You took the whole bag. I’m going to remove the nozzle and replace it with a small butt plug.”
Alexis felt the nozzle being pulled slowly out and then the press of the plug into her still-relaxed anus.

Bending over her, Master John released her cuffs from her collar, but didn’t remove the cuffs themselves. “Now,” he informed her, “
You’re going to masturbate while I paddle your ass. Make sure not to push out that plug, or we’ll have a nasty mess on our hands. Oh, and ask permission before you come.”

Alexis had been sure he would let her up to relieve herself once she’d taken the enema. She lay there without moving, her mind trying to process what he’d just said. Make
herself come? While being paddled? And lying on her side? Fuck!

“Get to it,” Master John snapped, his words accompanied by a sudden sharp smack of a paddle against her right butt cheek.

Spurred into action, Alexis jerked her cuffed wrists downward and slipped the fingers of her right hand awkwardly between her legs. Despite the discomfort and embarrassment of enduring the enema, she was surprised to find she was soaking wet. As the paddle again made its hard contact with her ass, her clit stiffened beneath her fingers and a small cry issued from her lips, part pleasure, part pain.

When the paddle struck the rounded base of the butt plug she grunted, her intestines protesting, her stomach gurgling. Forcing herself to ignore the cramping, she rubbed furiously at herself, the stinging smash of the paddle against her ass offset by the rising pleasure at her center.

“Oh, god,” she moaned, her body shaking with her effort to push through the pain of the paddling as she rode her hand toward a climax. “Please, Sir. May I come?”

The paddle smashed against her even harder than before and she gave a gasping cry, tears filling her eyes. “Yes,” he said, never letting up with the paddle while Alexis careened over the precipice of an unexpectedly powerful orgasm at her own hand.

The sting of the paddle was replaced by Master John’s large, strong hands, his stroke surprisingly gentle and soothing against her burning flesh. “I am pleased,” her trainer said as he stroked her ass and back. In spite of her exhaustion, Alexis’s mouth lifted into a smile, his words sending a warm thrill of pleasure through her.

Master John allowed her to rest awhile, her cuffed hands still caught between her legs, until her breathing eventually slowed to something near to normal. “Sit up,” he said eventually. “I’ll help you off the table and take you to the toilet. You will crouch over the seat while I remove the plug. Then you may relieve yourself.”

As he helped Alexis to a sitting position, her intestines again cramped painfully. All the pleasure of the orgasm and the warmth of his praise had evaporated. She desperately needed to use the toilet, but at the same time dreaded the prospect with Master John as witness.

Her hands still cuffed, Alexis was led by Master John to the row of toilets. At least they were the only two people in the communal bathroom, though that was still one too many.

Under Master John’s unblinking gaze, Alexis straddled the toilet seat. He had a plastic bag in his hand. Reaching behind her, he pulled the plug and dropped it into the bag while Alexis lowered herself quickly to the seat.

Tears of embarrassment and shame pricked her eyelids as she expelled the enema liquid and her own waste in front of her trainer. At the same time, she couldn’t deny the intense physical relief.

While she was relieving herself, Master John dropped the plastic bag into a utility sink near the shower stalls, stripped his gloves into the trashcan and then moved to the bank of sinks beneath the mirrors. After he’d washed his hands, he returned to Alexis, who was still sitting on the toilet.

Bending toward her, he unclipped the cuffs and removed them from her wrists. “Wipe yourself and take a shower,” he instructed. “I’ll see you in the dining room for lunch.”

~*~

They were in a large, sumptuously furnished room. The wood paneled walls were decorated with oil paintings of Impressionistic landscapes. A large crystal chandelier hung from the high, vaulted ceiling. It could have been any elegantly appointed drawing room, except for the St. Andrew’s crosses flanking either side of a huge stone fireplace. Several flogger and whip handles could be seen protruding from a tall brass umbrella stand.

An end table beside it held an ice bucket, a small propane tank with a torch attached to the top of it and a black velvet pouch.

Alexis was kneeling on a cushion beside six other naked trainees, four women and two men. They were lined up in a row along one wall with a good view of the entire room.
Alexis’s ass was still tender from an extended caning session in the dungeon after lunch. She had been cuffed by her wrists to long chains that hung from the ceiling, her arms so high she’d had to stand on tiptoes for the duration of the caning. She had taken quite a beating, moving from the initial resistance to a kind of resigned, exhausted surrender, but without ever achieving the sense of release and peace that continued to remain just out of her grasp, even here at The Compound.

Several staff slaves were kneeling or sitting at the feet of the trainers who lounged on sofas and chairs scattered around the room. Alexis was keenly aware of the presence of Master Paul, who was on a sofa across the room. He was wearing a white shirt opened at the throat and jeans that hugged strong, muscular legs. Though she knew she shouldn’t even be thinking this way, she was glad to note that, unlike many of the trainers scattered throughout the room, there was no one kneeling at his feet, no head resting proprietarily on his knee. Tiffany was kneeling in the row with Alexis, her back ramrod straight, a diamond piercing glinting at her belly button, a matching diamond stud nestled on one side of her pert little nose.

All eyes turned to the open double doors of the drawing room as Mistress Miriam entered the room. She was dressed in a flowing red gown, cut low to reveal a deep cleavage. Master John entered just behind her. He had changed from the black T-shirt and jeans he’d worn earlier in the day, and looked quite sexy in black leather pants and a vest over his muscular chest, which was covered in dark blond curls. Lastly came Wendy, wearing a see-through white shift that barely covered her slender, naked body. Her feet were bare, the gold heart-shaped padlock glinting at her throat.

Mistress Miriam, with Master John and Wendy next to her, stood in front of the fireplace and addressed the room. “We are gathered tonight to witness the branding ceremony of Master John and his slave girl, Wendy.”

Turning to Wendy, Mistress Miriam said, “Slave Wendy, do you choose this permanent branding of your flesh of your own free will?”

Though Alexis thought she saw fear in Wendy’s large gray eyes, her voice was firm as she answered, “Yes, Mistress.”

“And with this brand,” Mistress Miriam continued, “do you promise to love and serve Master John with your heart, body and soul until the time he releases you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Wendy replied, a radiant smile lighting her face as she gazed up at her Master.

Turning to Master John, Mistress Miriam said, “And you, John. With this brand do you claim permanent ownership of slave Wendy, promising to own and cherish her as long as you remain Master and slave?”

“I do,” Master John intoned, as if taking a marriage vow. He took Wendy’s small hand in his much larger one.

Mistress Miriam again addressed the room. “In order to help Wendy achieve the proper mindset for the intensity of the branding, her Master has chosen the meditation of a long, slow flogging. Through the whipping of the skin, Wendy will achieve an altered state, one which changes the very nature of pain and one’s ability to bear it.”

Mistress Miriam stepped to the side of the hearth while Master John selected a heavy black flogger from the umbrella stand. “Prepare
yourself,” he said to Wendy. Without hesitation the girl slipped the straps of her skimpy dress off her shoulders and let the shift puddle to the floor. Turning her smooth, naked body so she was in profile to the room, she lifted her arms over her head, clasping each wrist with the opposite hand. Wendy was thin but muscular and despite her grace and apparent ease, Alexis thought she detected some tension in the rigid way she held her body as she waited for her flogging to begin.