Indoctrination

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WARNING! THIS IS A WORK OF EROTIC BDSM FICTION. IT IS ADULT ORIENTED MATERIAL OF A SEXUAL NATURE. The copyright of this story remains with the author, Night Owl. This posting does not give you the rights to post this on any website without obtaining the author's permission first.

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Indoctrination

by Night Owl

Chapter 16: The Smell of Wine and Leather

A black Audi made its way up the long drive and pulled up in front of Dark Oak Manor. Two men and two women emerged from the vehicle. The driver, a tall, well-tanned man in a dark Armani suit handed his keys to the valet. The two women were both dressed in black leather overcoats with hoods that nearly covered their faces. They followed the men closely as the small group headed up the walk path. Raven greeted them at the door, and pleasantries were exchanged between the three men as they entered, with little regard to their female companions. At 7:00 sharp, the first guests of the party had arrived.

Upstairs in the dressing room, Raven's girls were getting ready while quizzing each other on the proper etiquette in dealing with visitors. Amber, especially, was taken under Monique's tutelage, since this was the first of many social events that she would be required to attend. As they stood in front of the mirror and applied their make-up, they went over the house rules again, and what was expected of her.

With the exception of Monique, the slaves were still going through their training, which meant they could be used in any way, short of sexual intercourse. Whippings were permitted, and other forms of BDSM play, though nothing 'heavy'. A trainee might also be asked to demonstrate her oral skills, but permission always had to be sought by the owner first, and sometimes a payment or even an exchange for another slave was arranged. The reason for this was that all trainees were marked for sale, and the overuse of a woman's sex organs might depreciate her value on the block, just as the price of a new car might depreciate after the first mile clicks on the odometer. Of course, it was expected that all trainees have some experience in giving and receiving sex, so exceptions to the rule were often made, but only at the owner's discretion. 

For the party, all of the girls, except Amber were required to dress in fetish wear, or 'kink clothing' as it was called. Monique, in particular, looked like a model straight out of an S&M magazine. Her long legs were wrapped in shiny, black leather chaps that left her ass, inner thighs and the leather thong she wore underneath exposed. Even more intriguing was the bra. Held up by two leather straps around the neck and back, a steel underwire served as the basis for the cups, with a 5-spoke cage to keep each breast rigidly in place without covering it. At the center of the cage, a 3/8" diameter hole allowed the nipple to be pulled through, creating an ideal opportunity for clamping. Her long blonde hair was permed, and the heavy make-up on her face added to the 'sexy vamp' look.

Since she was still early in her training, Amber was not allowed to dress like her companions. Instead, she wore a white silk tunic with a disrobing loop at the left shoulder -- similar to the garment she wore for Raven the night before. As a rule, the girl's status as a slave was denoted by the color of her tunic. Slaves in red silk, for instance, were 'pleasure slaves', and could generally be claimed by anyone who desired her usage after bartering with the owner. A 'red silk slave' was considered to be well trained to please in all ways sexual. Amber's status as a 'white silk' was the opposite, though not a virgin, it suggested a lack of experience, or naivety to Gorean culture. By right of ownership, a white silk girl was reserved only for her Master or Mistress. They were generally permitted to serve drinks and food, or for conversation, but sexual use was strictly forbidden by anyone else, unless on some rare occasions, special arrangements were made with the owner. Not surprisingly, Amber was visibly relieved after being told this.

After the first guests arrived, Monique quickly took Amber down to the small server's station next to the kitchen and mixed two cocktails.

"The tall man is Sir Goodwin Stryker," she told her. "He's a filmmaker, and the two girls belong to him. Abby is the blonde and the other girl with the short brown hair is named Marie. Both of them were trained here. As for the other man, I don't know who he is." 

Amber quietly entered the room carrying her tray. Goodwin Stryker was seated with Raven. He was as tall as Monique said, with sharp, well-tanned features and blonde hair combed back neatly on his head. Seated next to him, was the brown-haired woman. From the first second Amber laid eyes on her, she couldn't keep herself from staring, for this was the same girl she saw on the video in Raven's den. Her hair had been cut short since then, but there was no mistaking her identity.

In the free world, she could easily have been a model -- tall, slender, and somewhat leggy with a swan-like neck. Her face had an oval shape to it, the cheekbones strong, nose straight, and her lips full. Her short, light brown hair was brushed behind the ears to compliment the facial features and graceful neck. The black mini dress she wore had spaghetti straps around the neck, and a very revealing front that plunged deep between her teardrop-shaped breasts, which were obviously naked underneath.

As Amber set the two drinks down for Raven and his guest, the woman remained motionless on the couch, sitting up straight, her legs uncrossed and pressed closely together from her knees down to the silver stiletto heels she wore. Her arms were at her sides, and slightly parted with her hands resting palms down on the seat cushion, as if posed that way so that anyone walking by could appraise her looks. Amber was captivated with the woman, by her beauty and by recognition of who she was. It finally took the sound of Raven's voice to break the spell,

"Amber," he said, "I want you to meet one of my guests, Sir Goodwin Stryker."

Amber's eyes darted to the two men looking at her.

"Greetings, Master," she got on her knees and bowed to the guest, as Monique instructed her earlier. Stryker nodded his head in return.

"And this is his slave," Raven continued, "Lady Audrey, or 'Marie', as we prefer to call her."

The woman looked up at Amber only briefly, and then lowered her gaze again. Her eyes were a striking pale green, but there seemed to be nothing behind them -- no character, no strength, no hope. It was the same look she would see in many of the slaves that night, for unlike the girls at Dark Oak Manor, they had been fully indoctrinated, and resigned to their life of servitude.

"I would introduce you to Abby," Raven laughed, "but Sir Ethan is keeping her busy at the moment." 

In one corner of the room, and almost hidden in the shadows, Amber was not shocked, but a little surprised to see the blonde girl handcuffed and kneeling in front of Raven's second guest. The zipper was open in his dress pants, her mouth, closed and locked around his stiff member. The seated, slouching man had his head back, his eyes closed. His thrusts were met by her leaning forward as best as she could without the use of her hands, and almost gagging herself on his massive organ. The strappy, leopard skin dress she wore was raised above her hips, baring her naked tush underneath which was streaked with three red marks left by a riding crop the man was holding in one hand. Raven and Stryker casually puffed on their cigars while commenting on the woman's technique. Amber watched uncomfortably, but at the same time, with some interest. At last, the man arched his back and cried out. He grasped the kneeling woman's blonde hair and held himself deep in her throat as she greedily sucked down his discharge. When he was done, he lowered his head to greet Amber with a smile. His eyes were almost as dark as Raven's, and the look behind them gave her a chill.

"I guess the show is over," Raven finally turned to Amber. "You may go now."

She lowered her eyes and quietly took the drink tray back to the kitchen.

By then, more guests were trickling in through the front door. Lamar Quinn arrived with his slave -- a pretty, athletic-looking blonde named Elisabeth. Carlo Santos was also there and mingling with the other guests and their slaves.

At the server's station, Monique filled goblets of red and white wine, Raven's best stock, while Amber loaded her tray.  Marin joined them to help. The sylphlike, but still stunning ex-ballet dancer wore a dress made of silver metal scales called chain mail. The top was wrapped tightly around her small breasts like a tube, and the skirt, draped low around the hips, baring her cheese-slicing clavicles and jutting ribs. Her long dark hair was permed like Monique's, and her upper arms, adorned with silver armlets.

In less than one hour, the attendants had grown from just a handful to over 40. Finger foods were served - crispy fried mushrooms, raw baby carrots and celery, chilled shrimp and oysters. There was also music in the air. It was strong and elegant and carried well amongst the laughter and conversations. Patterns began to form in the crowd. Many of the patrons had already broken off into clusters, usually centered on some group or person -- like a show, within a show.

Amber felt dozens of eyes diligently tracking her as she moved around the room to serve the food and wine. Suddenly, it seemed as though the sheer white silk she wore couldn't have been more conspicuous. Of course, she had been naked before strangers many times, but it didn't seem to her that she had been so naked as this. The dress shifted around her body as she moved, betraying every curve and reminding her of how bare-skinned she was underneath. Her nipples tented though the soft, lustrous fiber. Not naked, but more than naked, it seemed. In spite of how it felt, she was grateful for even the wisp of gossamer shielding she was allowed to provide against the imperious appraisals of the crowd, even though the disrobing loop over her left shoulder could be pulled away and the tunic discarded instantly at anyone's whim.

More guests filed in, bringing the number to about 60. One in particular -- a very young, good-looking man -- was being led around naked on a leash by his female companion. His arms were restrained behind his back, his mouth gagged with a leather 'o'-ring. While he was paraded through the house, other women were allowed to inspect his genitals. His body was moderately muscled, well tanned and hairless, save for what he had on his head. His pubic area, in particular had been shaved smooth, and in spite of the size of his member, which was impressive, he looked 'boyish' in appearance.

Throughout the early evening, as Amber dodged guests with her tray, she was able to pick up only bits of conversation, yet not enough to discern any real meaning. The groups continued to swell and flow to the sound of the music. In one group, an attractive woman was relating a tantalizing story to the men prostrated around her, hanging on her every bated breath. In another, a young couple was talking spiritedly about some exploration or another that they had shared, the small crowd of listeners making cooing sounds at the peaks and curves of the tale.

Off in the corners, there were several quieter conversations taking place. Men and women talking more intimately about their private lives. Stolen glances were exchanged, and passions lit amongst strangers and lovers alike. Amber found herself drawn to these more intimate moments, listening to the words spoken in the hope of catching some of the intensity there.

When she brought a tray of wine into the Grand Room, a particularly large group had gathered near the canopied fireplace. Most of the guests were seated in chairs or lounging on the carpeted floor. The focus of their attention was on the large oak coffee table, and the slender redhead performing a full standing backbend on top of it. She was naked, save for her white leather collar and a pair of clear, open-toe high heels. Balancing herself with just her hands and feet, she remained silent and motionless, as if she were a statue or piece of human artwork. Her long, fiery hair draped down to the tabletop from where her head hung backwards. At the other end of 'the bridge', her pubic area had been shaved clean in typical Gorean fashion, with a lit cigarette now tucked in her smooth cleft. The guests murmured among themselves as they observed. Most of their words were indistinguishable because of the music and loud conversation elsewhere.

Amber stood just outside the circle with her tray and watched also, admiring how the woman's limbs and torso flowed through the back-bending arch. Her smallish breasts were drawn tight over her prominent ribs, her coral red nipples, visibly erect. She had a small tattoo of a spider just off her left pelvic bone with a delicate web fanning out from it's abdomen and ending just above the V of her body, as if to draw attention to the smoldering cigarette burning ever closer to her flesh.

Scanning the growing flock of onlookers, Amber noticed Master Goodwin seated in his chair. At his feet, the ethereally beautiful, Lady Marie was leaning against the chair with one bare arm draped affectionately across his knees. Only she could have drawn Amber's attention off the magnificent tableau perched on the table in front of them. She felt her gaze trace the lines of Marie's dress where fabric met skin. Her cleavage was a striking cream against the black material, her long legs, bent to the side and together in front, were uncovered nearly up to the hips.

Beneath the silk camisk, Amber felt her own body stir, her emotions clouded with unfamiliarity. She had never been so moved by another woman before. Then her breath caught when Marie's pale green eyes darted to hers. A subtle smile followed, her full lips parted slightly, before she looked away again.

As Amber moved through the room to serve the guests, she tried to keep her poker face. She tried to pretend that Marie and the revealing black dress she wore was not a compelling vision; that her gaze did not unnerve her. She willed herself to focus on something else, but her eyes kept betraying her thoughts, shooting furtive glances toward the other woman. So tied up Amber was with her emotions, that she didn't even notice Raven observing her strange behavior until it was too late. When she saw the smile, and the silent laugh on her master's face, she quickly looked away.

By then, conversations around the coffee table were beginning to die down as more attention was diverted to the redhead. Still posed in her back-bending bridge, her limbs were just beginning to show signs of fatigue. More noticeably, the cigarette poking out between her open thighs had burned almost all the way down to the end. Amber paused a moment to watch with the other guests. She couldn't bring herself to even glance at Raven or Marie, for fear of being caught again.

Five more minutes passed, and the redhead's face was flushed pink from exertion, her mouth open as she struggled to take each breath of air. Sweat glistened off her pale body, bringing to light the smooth musculature throughout, straining to hold the impossible pose. The glowing embers from the cigarette were almost touching her now.

Finally, a man stood up from his chair. Presumably this was the girl's owner. He circled the table slowly, then rapped on the hardwood twice with his fist.

"That is enough, my lovely pet," he said. "You may go."

The woman carefully lowered herself down to the table. She then removed what was left of the cigarette and took a puff before exiting the room. The guests applauded as she left, not by clapping their hands, but in a quieter fashion of snapping their fingers, so as not to disrupt the rest of the party.

"That was splendid," a woman with a British accent raved. "What shall we see next."

"I have an idea," Raven spoke up. "AMBER, come here . . . front and center."

Amber thought her heart had leaped out of her chest when she heard her name. Dazed, she felt everyone's attention sharpen on her as she moved through the crowd to the center of the room.

"Your eyes have been on Marie all evening," he stated loudly. "Why is that?"

Amber glanced over to Marie, their eyes met briefly, then she turned her gaze blankly to the floor.

"I . . . I don't know, Master," she stammered. Her cheeks flushed red and her hands tightened on the empty drink tray she was holding.

"I see," Raven paused. "Marie, stand up please."

Marie rose to her feet and quickly straightened her dress.

Raven turned to Stryker, "With your permission?"

Stryker nodded.

"Marie," he continued, "KISS Amber."

As the other girl approached, Amber noticed her gem-green eyes no longer had that 'vacant' look, but were filled with a passion that made her own heart beat faster. Marie took away the tray Amber was holding, then brought her hands up and lightly touched her face. Amber closed her eyes. Then they kissed. Their mouths both opened and Amber felt Marie's tongue dart in and dance with hers. That moment, she had forgotten about everyone else in the room. Then Raven's voice broke in again.

"Now remove her garment, Marie," he softly ordered, "and from behind please, so we can all see."

Marie slowly and very seductively moved around behind Amber, her fingers lightly trailing up her arm to the disrobing loop. The silk cloth she wore suddenly slid down to her feet. Amber was naked now. She could feel dozens of eyes burning trails down the front of her body, searing into her naked pubis, which just that morning, had been shaved by Monique.

So much adrenaline coursed through her system that she could hardly keep from trembling. By then, the small group had grown to over twenty - all of them complete strangers. Amber yearned for the proverbial fig leaf -- anything to offer some protection. She felt like a prepubescent girl on merciless display; a working class lass stripped bare before the aristocracy; a submissive waiting for dominants to determine her value. For several terrible moments, she stood there, waiting.

"Marie, why don't you touch her breasts . . . from behind, please."

Amber closed her eyes tight, but she could still feel their stares, boring into her flesh. She felt Marie's fingers curl around to caress her breasts from behind. Fear suddenly welled up inside, her body shaking visibly now. It wasn't that she wasn't enjoying Marie's attentions, but these feelings she had never experienced before, or even knew existed within her, were being drawn out and put on open display for everyone to observe. She tried to control her fear as Marie tweaked her nipples with her long fingernails, drawing the tightening pink buds out from her breasts. She even tried to smile once, but her act was a pathetic attempt, and she knew it. She felt light-headed, as though she were about to faint. Finally Raven broke in.

"Ok Marie, you can stop now," there was a tone of disappointment in his voice. "Amber, take your dress and put it back on . . . then bring out another tray. We have some empty glasses here."

After Marie released her, Amber quickly gathered up her tunic. As she left the room, she heard Raven say,

"The girl isn't ready yet."

  

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As the evening moved on, the music changed subtly. The tempo slowed and deeper baritones resonated throughout the rooms. The groups began to break down into smaller and smaller numbers. Amber had still been in a daze through it all after what happened with Raven and Marie. Her body was covered in silk again, but it didn't seen to help much. She felt just as naked and vulnerable as she was without it.

One by one, the other girls of Dark Oak Manor disappeared, having been 'loaned' out to some of the guests. Monique was first to be chosen, and then the others, until Amber was the only servant left. Abby, one of Goodwin Stryker's girls, and another slave named Shawna were sent to help Amber with the guests. Having once been owned by Raven, Abby still knew her way around the house and quickly took charge of the other two.

When the lights dimmed, candles were lit in their place to incite the right mood. Sparkling champagne was served in tall flute glasses. The soft melodies piped into the room had taken on a haunting refrain, the tempo more even and rhythmic, like a heart beat. Emotions seemed more primal and elusive.

In one darkened corner, Amber saw the 'boy slave' again, still naked, and lying on a plush round sofa-couch with two fully-clothed young women who were making sport of him. They had him tied up in such a way so that his arms were pinned behind his back, and with his legs stretched wide over the sides of the chair, baring his smooth genitals. As one of the women stroked and caressed his loins, coaxing him to an erection, the other took a small hand-held leather whip and slapped him on the chest and legs. The two nymphs giggled and switched roles. Both seemed quite skilled in keeping the poor fellow erect so that, gagged and helpless as he was, they could take turns tormenting him at their leisure.

Elsewhere, couples and trios began to dance to the eerie music. Amber observed more open displays of affection amongst men and women than she had noticed earlier in the evening. One woman in a see-through fishnet dress was rubbing up against her man, his hands openly exploring her body while the crowd observed. Wherever he touched, he received a satisfying response from his companion. Another man joined in. Both of them stepped in sync to press against the woman and sway with the gyrations of her pelvis. Then each stripped to the waist, and started rubbing their muscled arms and chests against her body. One of the men caressed her arms and coaxed them up above her head while the other moved in from behind to kiss the back of her neck, his hands straying down to her breasts. Other guests, both male and female, moved in to dance, all of them crowding around the woman in fishnet until she was no longer in view.

Meanwhile, the two nymphs on the round sofa were still busily at work with their bound slave, massaging his stiff member and balls with body oils, while kissing him on the neck, chest and thighs. Tears welled up in his eyes and he tried desperately to squirm away from their probing fingers. The movement was answered with a sharp lash from the whip. Unable to stop himself, he once again tried to evade them, and felt another lash. His muffled groans, his wide eyes pleaded for relief, but to no avail. In fact, the women taunted him all the more, both verbally and with their expert hands, stroking and teasing, followed by an abrupt stop, then continuing again by alternating cycles of arousal and frustration. A small crowd of people gathered to watch. The show continued for at least another ten minutes until mercy was finally given. His massive organ began to pump wildly, and the spectators cheered in unison as streams of the white, milky fluid spewed into the air and landed on his chest.

About twelve midnight, the party began to thin out. None of the guests were leaving though, but merely moving to more remote parts of the house. Some went to the rooms upstairs, others down to the 'dungeon' to try out the different racks, cages, whips, floggers and other implements of torture that were left for them. By then, Monique had emerged from the dungeon to rejoin the party. She was somewhat fatigued after a particularly long session with a few guests, but she quickly recovered and resumed to her duties. In spite of all the activity going on around her, Amber still could not get Marie out of her mind. Many times her eyes wandered, searching for her, but neither she, nor Raven were anywhere to be found.

As the party moved to the rooms, so did the servers. Like waitresses, Amber and the other girls went from room to room, taking orders while sessions were in progress. In the newest wing of the house, the 'themed rooms' were made available to guests. There was the Interrogation Room, with its harsh spotlights, two-way mirror, straight-backed subject chair and claustrophobic size, designed to be both physically and psychologically uncomfortable for the victim. The Medical Suite housed two separate bays, each with a stainless steel OB/GYN exam table, well-equipped crash cart, and outlets for violet wands, electric probes, and other high-tech toys.

In another room, Shii Ann was playing the part of the Asian schoolgirl being punished by her 'headmaster'. She was ordered to bend over his desk so he could lift the plaid skirt up and give her white pantied tush good paddling. Next he had her lie face-up on the desk. Her arms and legs were bent over the sides and bound with rope. More punishment was then administered with a wooden ruler to various parts of her body. Each time, a piece of clothing was removed to expose more of her flesh, followed by jerks, flinches and vocalizations as the defenseless girl was tormented again and again.

The newly renovated themed rooms drew high praise from guests, but the dungeon downstairs was still an over-all favorite, and the center of much activity throughout the night. Descending the narrow steps for the first time with her drink tray, Amber was greeted with sounds of thuds and stinging lashes, moans and screams from every room and corridor.

There were at least two caning sessions in progress, one of them involving the lovely slave, Elisabeth. Having arrived at the party in care of Lamar Quinn, she was bartered away for the evening to a young couple, which now had her straddling a wooden carpenter's horse called The Pony. Her legs were bent forward and fastened to each side of the padded leather spine, her arms stretched high and locked in leather cuffs that dangled down from the ceiling by a chain. For the caning, a long, jointed bamboo rod was used, soaked in water beforehand to prevent it from splitting. The tension of the chain kept Elisabeth's upper body bent forward, offering her swaying breasts and pert, upturned ass as prime targets for the punishment, which lasted almost an hour.

Other pieces of furniture, like the infamous St. Augustine's Cross were also put to good use. Its design and purpose was simple -- a pair of 4 x 4s, crossed and mounted to one wall, with leather cuffs on each end for binding the slave in a spread-eagle position. The latest victim, a pretty brunette, whom Amber knew as Kate, was tortured by at least five different mistresses throughout the whole night.

Great amounts of wine, champagne and mixed cocktails were consumed, which kept Shane and the other handlers busy, since it was their job to oversee the sessions and make sure nothing got out of hand. In the dungeon, both Amber and Shawna took shifts in serving the guests. They often met on the stairs -- one descending with a full drink tray, while the other raced up to fill another order.

In the dungeon's largest room (the same room where Amber witnessed Jerri's whipping), a very large group of people had gathered for some form of entertainment that was just about to begin. It was here that she finally found Raven and Marie. Both were sitting very close to each other, his hand caressing her bare thigh through the open slit in her dress. A tinge of jealousy swept through Amber when she saw them. There was no denying now, her attraction to Marie, and a sense of bitter rejection in seeing her Master's attentions focused on another slave.

The upcoming performance was rumored to be a highlight of the evening, but no one, other than Raven himself, seemed to know what it would be. Layers of animal pelts sewn tightly together had been laid out on the floor with the guests seated on padded cushions around it. At the center of the stage, a long wooden post was secured to the floor and ceiling. Torches flickered on the walls to imbue the right setting and mood.

After a long wait, Raven finally stood up and clapped his hands twice, "Bring in the dancer," he ordered.

The guests grew silent. All eyes turned to the back of the room as a woman appeared through a darkened doorway. She wore Gorean dancing silk, wrapped strategically around parts of her body -- just enough for modesty.

Amber immediately recognized the girl as she moved into the torchlight. A veil covered much of her face, but there was no mistaking her large, captivating green eyes and the pointed tribal tattoo on her lower left hip. The dancer about to perform for Raven and his guests was Livia.

(continued)