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The bonds of friendship.


Andre smiled and sat Indian style next to Renee, taking her head in his lap and stroking her hair until she was sound asleep. He then carried her out of her room and down the hallway to a private bedroom with a four poster bed, bathroom and closet, and thick plush carpeting under foot. Renee slept like the dead.

Chapter Five

Renee's training as a cock slut was complete, as was her submission to Andre. Renee's discoveries were not limited to the physical. She also realized that she no longer questioned everything. Her world revolved around Andre and her obedience to him was absolute. Renee now felt she lacked the capacity to defy Andre or to even question the motivations behind his commands.

Renee was now living in a small comfortable bedroom that contained a private bathroom and a closet filled with clothes that were clearly chosen for her. There was a clock on the wall and a window to the outside, so for the first time since her arrival she knew what time it was and could see daylight and the outside.

Renee first act in her new room was to take a long shower. Since Renee had nothing but sponge baths in her room the spray of hot water on her skin seemed like a blissful excess. The pleasure of washing herself was so immense Renee ended up shampooing her hair and washing her body three times. Thoroughly refreshed, Renee went into the closet and selected a simple V neck top, jeans and a pair of comfortable shoes. She sat in an armchair facing the window and saw for the first time that her residence was near the Pacific Ocean. She could see waves crashing on a rocky beach and the afternoon fog waiting to come in with the setting sun.

At about 7 p.m. Andre came to fetch her for dinner. Renee was brought to a small but elegant dining room where servants attended to them. They enjoyed a simple meal of roast beef, potatoes and vegetables and a glass of vintage Bordeaux. They ate their dinner in silence, savoring every morsel of the tasty meal.

As the servants came to pour coffee Andre began the conversation. "Little slut, you have exceeded our expectations on the first phase of your training. You now are at a crossroads. As you know, our lifestyle also embraces pain as a way to bring pleasure to both partners. It is not for everyone. If you choose to move forward with your training as a pain slut you can always say the safe word and end your training. Because you have already completed your training as a cock slut, if you fail to complete the remaining part of your training as a pain slut, you will be entered into the Auction as a cock slut. However, if you complete your training as a pain slut, and elect to be in entered into the Auction as a pain slut, you will likely receive at least 50% more than what you would have earned as a cock slut. It is not unheard of for a desirable pain slut to be auctioned off for $1 million or more. It is for you to decide."

"Sir, tell me what to do."

"This is one decision I cannot make for you. Even though I control your body I respect it, and becoming a pain slut means that your body may in many respects no longer belong to you. Although Masters may not permanently injure a pain slut, there are some that are quite harsh, so if you pursue this lifestyle you will be subject to people that are used to living on the edge."

"Sir, what would you do if you were me?"

"That is a difficult question. I've trained many pain sluts. I believe that given your youthful beauty, including your angelic face, your smaller stature, and your unabashed enthusiasm for sex, you will be a compelling draw for many potential Masters. You also have a high tolerance for pain and are highly trainable. I would try this lifestyle, as you may always withdraw without an adverse consequence other than your time."

"I want to try," said Renee without hesitation. She had great faith in the judgment of her Master and a lasting impression from the videos she watched of women being whipped and then fucked to rousing orgasms.

"Very well. We will begin your training tomorrow morning at 8."

Promptly at 8, Andre

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