WARNING! This story is only for adults over the age of 18 and contains Strong Sexual Content. It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS only, and the author does not in any way condone similar behavior.
If you are under the age or 18 or reside in a state, nation, or planet that prohibits such behavior, stop reading immediately!!!
Janet In Training CH09B: The Ordeal
By mailto:sfmaster@att.net
Archiving permitted, reposting is permitted; but only if you include this statement of limitation of use and notify the author by e-mail. The author forbids you to make, distribute, or sell multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format.
However, individual readers may make single copies of the story for their own, non-commercial use.
Copyright (c) 1997 by mailto:sfmaster@att.net
Attn: Readers please feel free to send e-mail to the author. I do want to hear from you!
The Ordeal Part Two
Suddenly time seemed to stop, and the entire universe revolved around Janet and the Dungeon. Just a few days before, she had used Tina in hers, and even though she had placed Part the girl in real distress, Tina had not been punished like Myra had been now.
Janet looked at Myra's wracked form, and realized that the girl had been correct in calling Mercy, and should not be whipped any more. Could Janet take her place, for a girl that she didn't even own? Once before, at the very beginning of her training with Erica, she had taken Tiffany's discipline. Janet had vowed never to do so again. But this was very different!
Janet had fantasized that she would one day ask her friend Stephanie to do a scene with her, so that she might know again the feel of the lash. But to let Lauren be her tormentor, who Stephanie had warned her so much about!
"Well, Mistress Janet, do you accept?" demanded Lauren, holding her crop.
"Yes. Yes, I'll do it. Because you're such a bitch," insulted Janet.
Lauren went to strike Janet with her hand, but held back.
"Why should I strike you when I can use the whip instead?" asked Lauren. "Now strip! Sabrina, attend me, please," ordered the Mistress.
Janet coiled her whip and placed it on a table where she had removed it. She watched as Lauren ordered Sabrina to let Myra down from her imprisonment, then Janet slowly removed her few articles of clothing. She placed those on the table next to the whips and other articles of the Dungeon.
Soon, she was naked and bare. She shivered, even though the Dungeon was quite warm. She walked slowly, her eyes downcast, towards Lauren. The Mistress was standing next to Sabrina, who was helping Myra.
Janet sank to her knees in front of Lauren. She kept her legs open, so that she was available for whatever the Mistress might desire of her. It had been months since any woman had used the whip on her, and Janet longed for Erica.
"That's better. Janet, do you accept discipline in place of Myra, property of Rene?" asked Lauren.
"Yes, Mistress."
Janet felt the sting of a riding crop across her back.
"Yes, Mistress Lauren," cried Janet.
"That's better. Sabrina; outfit her in collar and bracelets. We'll see what this poseur is really made of," ordered Lauren.
Janet sat silently as a collar was measured and locked around her neck. Her wrists and ankles were soon locked in steel and leather, and she was finally attired like that of a slave once again.
Lauren had changed into a leather dress, and her guests, including Tiffany, still sat in their chairs. Before, it had Myra who had been the entertainment. Now it would be Janet's turn.
"Up, slave," ordered Lauren.
Janet watched as Sabrina had led Myra away, hopefully to get cleaned up and rested. The girl needed some relief from her torment, not any additional punishment!
Janet stood impassively as her wrists were locked above her head. Sabrina had returned, and it was her job to secure Janet's ankles to a spreader bar. Soon, Janet found herself in the same position as Myra before.
"I think that the only instrument to use is the one that was used on Myra," observed Lauren.
Lauren procured the whip, snapping it in the air for all to see. The whip cracked with deadly effect like a gunshot in the Dungeon.
"Are you ready, slave?" asked Lauren.
"Yes, Mistress Lauren. Please discipline me in place of Myra?" asked Janet.
"Kiss the handle," bluntly ordered Lauren, ice in her voice.
Janet did as she was ordered. She tensed as Lauren coiled the whip, afraid for herself in a way that she had never been with either Erica or Stephanie.
"Owwww!" cried Janet.
"Owwww!"
"Owwww!"
The slender black leather whip, supple and sinuous, was cracked like a gunshot. It wrapped itself around Janet the tip coming to rest with a force that Janet had forgotten.
"Now Janet, we'll just see who's the better Mistress, or slave. You said earlier about someone being in control. Now that's me in control over you. As it should be. Enjoy your punishment, slave."
"Owwww!"
"Owwww!"
No matter how many times the whip wrapped itself her, Janet refused to either cry for mercy or to acknowledge Lauren's will over her. She flinched and pulled in her stomach every time the whip landed there or between her legs. Lauren wanted to mark her skin, and used the thin whip with deadly effectiveness again and again.
Janet felt her skin slowly heat up as the blood flowed to the surface in an attempt to cool off her overheated body. Her sweat ran down her armpits and between her breasts, and down her exposed flanks.
"Owwww!"
"Owwww!"
"Owwww!"
Janet counted another series of ten strokes, her pained shoulders and wrists bearing her weight as she swung from the ceiling. It seemed as if the universe had shrunk to just two people, just Lauren and herself. There was nothing else except for the universe of pain as the whip landed once again.
She knew that tears were now flowing, and she could taste their saltiness as they sometimes ran into her mouth. Janet had never been brought this far, either by Erica or Stephanie.
"Had enough, slave?" asked Lauren.
"No, Mistress Lauren," answered Janet.
"Good. Then I'll see what else I have in my toybox."
Janet was glad for the temporary respite. Even though she knew that Lauren was going to use something else on her, even a few seconds without the whip was precious.
Lauren returned with a riding crop with a special broad tip. She flexed it with her fingers, showing its stiffness.
"Ready?" asked Lauren.
"Yes, Mistress Lauren."
Lauren first struck at her tender breasts, making Janet cry out. Then she used it on her behind, making her recoil in pain. But Janet knew that Lauren was only warming up, that she was pacing Janet's ability to absorb the lash.
"Kiss the crop," ordered Lauren.
"Thank you, Mistress Lauren," repeated Janet as obeyed Lauren's orders.
The final use of the crop was between Janet's legs, on the inside of her thighs. Janet moaned and strained as the crop was struck from side to side like a metronome between her legs. Sometimes, the crop would strike her sex, making her cry out even more. But Janet held her plea for mercy, digging her nails into her moist palms.
"You are quite remarkable," said Lauren, "for someone who hasn't been trained by me. Therefore, I shall put you to the final test. I shall whip you again until I draw blood."
Janet's head rose in shock, just in time for Lauren to force a ballgag between her lips and buckle it tight.
"Mmmmmph," cried Janet.
"The time that you could have called for mercy is over," said Lauren, "now you shall feel the full force of my lash."
Suddenly, Janet remembered the warning that Mistress Erica had given her over one year ago when she had been disciplined for the first time as a new slave. That she should never submit to a Mistress who did not recognize the concept of a safeword. Even though her body was already warmed up by the harsh punishment that she had already received, her blood suddenly ran cold in her veins from fear.
When the whip struck again, it was like an explosive force going off onto her skin. Waves and waves of pain shot through her entire body, and it didn't matter where the whip landed. Each stroke was like a crack of doom against her naked flesh.
But it was her back where the whip expended its full force. Janet vainly tried to avoid the whip as it struck her back repeatedly. Finally the universe blacked out, as she fell into a bottomless pit of darkness.
"Mistress Janet?"
The tender voice was one that Janet didn't recognize. It was calling her name, or was it?
"Mistress Janet, please wake up?"
"Where am I?" groggily asked Janet.
She was lying naked face down on a bed, and two women were attending to her back, which she couldn't feel.
"You're in Lauren's house, remember. You took my place, remember? I'm Myra," said the girl.
"Myra," repeated Janet.
The name brought back the memory of the early evening, a game, Rene's slave.
"Owwww!" cried Janet, when feeling suddenly returned to her back.
"I've stopped the bleeding, but only temporarily," said Sabrina, "but she has to see a doctor before those wounds open up again."
"Bring my purse," cried Janet still dazed from the ordeal she had endured.
One of the girls brought Janet her purse, and she removed the cell phone, spots dancing before her eyes. Janet punched in the memory number for Stephanie, then was glad when she heard a familiar voice on the other end.
"Stephanie?" Janet asked.
"Janet?" answered Stephanie.
"Stephanie, bring your doctors bag to my house right away, and anything else that you can carry."
"What's happened?"
"I've been badly hurt," cried Janet.
"What!"
"Can't talk now, see you soon," Janet answered as she cut the connection.
Janet stood up, and the two girls helped her put her panties and shoes on, leaving off her bra. Janet felt the presence of bandages and tape on her back. They then helped to button her blouse, and skirt. Buttoning her coat brought waves of agony throughout her entire body.
"Where's Tiffany?" asked Janet.
"Gone. They're all gone. You have to drive yourself home," said Myra.
Janet felt like she would pass out, but the two slaves held her. Lauren's slaves. They helped her outside, and got the keys from her purse. Dawn was breaking. Had she really been there the entire night? The cold air suddenly made her alert and awake, at least temporarily.
When she was seated behind the wheel, Myra opened the window before closing the door. She looked at the pained Mistress.
"Mistress Janet, thank you for taking my place. You're a different sort of Mistress than Lauren and her friends, and I'd love to be your slave."
"Thank you," chattered Janet.
"Just make it home, please?"
Janet started the car, put it in drive, and swung around the fountain. The gate opened, and she drove out into the cold and deserted streets. Dazed, confused, on the verge of blacking out several times, it seemed like the drive took several hours.
The physical demands of driving took their toll, and Janet nodded off to sleep, only to be awakened when the car's right front fender impacted against a tree. Janet was thrown backwards, awakening her, and the car came to a sudden stop.
"Oh, god!" Janet cried aloud, "I'm going to die."
Janet could feel the wetness of blood dripping down her blouse into her panties, and the slickness of her blouse against her back. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, tears flowing from the corners of her eyes.
She rested her head against the steering wheel, only wanting to sleep, for a release from the pain that she suffered. It would be so easy just to give up, to die.
Janet nodded off, the agony of her ordeal finally taking its toll as she closed her eyes.
'Janet?'
'Erica? Is that you?'
'Janet, go home and live!'
'I can't, Erica. I don't have the strength.'
'Janet, this is an order from your Mistress. Return home!'
'I want to die Erica. I'm sorry.'
'Janet, you have never disobeyed me. Don't start now. This is an order, summon your strength and live. Go home. If you die Tiffany and Lauren are the winners. If you do that, then you will have disappointed me.'
'Yes, Mistress.'
Janet opened her eyes, blinking away the tears. She rubbed her eyes, dazed and confused. Has she really been talking to Erica? Or was it just a dream?
"I won't fail you Erica," Janet said to herself, even though she was in intense pain.
Gathering her strength Janet put the car back in drive, and aimed the wheels back again out into the street. The car's bodywork was damaged, but not the drivetrain or steering. Janet continued on her way home.
Finally, she saw the gates to her house. She punched the button, and the gates opened. She followed the driveway to the door, and turned the ignition off. Her head swimming, she walked up the steps, her consciousness fading in and out.
The door opened, and the bright lights dazzled Janet as she went inside her own house. What was the name of the person now before her?
"Mistress Janet?" asked the girl, "let me take your coat."
When her coat was removed, it peeled away from the back of her blouse with a liquid sound as the fabrics separated. Looking sideways at the mirror in the foyer, she saw that the back of her blouse was soaked through with her own red blood.
"Stephanie! Stephanie!"
Janet fell into the abyss, her head swaying and the welcoming darkness swallowing her.
"Janet?" asked a soothing voice, "Janet?"
"Mommy?"
"What's wrong?" asked a female voice.
"Mommy, it hurts," cried Janet.
"She's delirious, with a fever at 105. If it doesn't break soon, we'll have to take her to the hospital. Tina, hold her hand. Janet needs to feel that there's someone nearby who cares for her right now," said another voice.
Tina pulled a chair to the bedside and after seating herself, she held Janet's right hand.
"Why is she asking for her mother?"
"That's the first person that someone will ask for when very sick or horribly injured. You should have heard the adults crying for their mother in the trauma ward I interned in."
"Mommy?" asked Janet.
"No, it's Stephanie. Remember?"
Janet climbed slowly back to consciousness. She was in a bedroom, and there were three women present. She didn't know any of them.
"Who are you?" asked Janet.
"Your friend, Stephanie. Don't you remember that you called me? This is Camille, and your Maid, Tina. Do you know us?"
Janet searched her mind, but she couldn't remember any of the women standing over her. Her whole body was warm, like it was on fire. A cup and straw were passed to her, and she drank a few sips before going back to sleep.
Light. Again, Janet opened her eyes, and saw three people standing over her. Janet wavered in and out of consciousness, her vision blurred and out of focus.
"Janet? Do you remember the last time we spoke?"
"No. Thirsty."
The cup was passed to her again and she drank a few sips, and she heard the others talking. Something about fever and delirium, before she fell asleep once more.
Light. When she opened her eyes again, things in the room resolved themselves. She identified the bed she was lying on, a mirror, a dresser that was covered in bottles, and things attached to her. The regular rhythm of a heart monitor and the tubes of an IV were her constant companions.
"Stephanie," called Janet.
"Janet, you're back, the fever broke!" said Stephanie, tears in her eyes.
Janet saw Stephanie standing over her, with Tina, her eyes streaked with tears, sitting on a chair next to her bedside. Tina was holding her hand, stroking it like it was a lover's.
"Tina?" asked Janet.
"She's been here ever since you got home, at your side," said Stephanie.
"Thank you, Tina," Janet said weakly.
"What happened?" asked Stephanie.
"Party at Lauren's. I was using Myra, one of Lauren's girls, I think. She asked for mercy, Lauren wanted to continue. I took her place. She used me badly, said that I would call for mercy. I never did. She wanted me to bleed. I drove home, and that's all I remember."
"Why did you go? She hated Erica, and me. She's taken over Tiffany, who popped in here once or twice to see you before leaving. I should kill them both," said Stephanie.
"Thirsty."
Janet was passed a cup, and she sipped at the straw.
"How bad?"
"You were delirious for days, with a high fever. I was afraid that I was going to lose you, you might have died. You lost a lot of blood, but you'll be all right. I had this equipment brought over, and called in a few favors," said Stephanie.
"Thank you," Janet answered.
"What happened, why did you take Myra's place?" asked Stephanie.
"Myra called mercy, and Lauren wanted to use her past her safeword. So I took her place. There isn't anything that we can do to Lauren," said Janet.
"Why didn't you call me first?" asked Stephanie.
"Don't remember."
"Don't tax yourself. Let's get some broth into you, and then more sleep. That's the best thing for you," said Stephanie.
After a cup of beef broth, Janet again slept. She dreamt of the lash, and the crop. Several times she awakened to see Stephanie standing over her. Then she fell asleep again.
First the heart monitor was removed, then the IV tubes. Janet realized that she had been lying on the bed clothed in a hospital gown, face down. Her back was covered in an entire bandage, which was changed twice daily. Either Camille or Tina would be with her constantly, holding her hand.
Then she was stood up and made to walk. Soon, she was eating simple foods from a tray, but she still slept on her stomach. A few times, Tiffany would visit, but Janet pretended to be sleeping.
"Stephanie?" asked Janet.
"Yes?"
"Why did you quit being a doctor?" asked Janet.
"Because I blame doctors for killing the two most important people in my life. My brother, and my husband. I retired, but I still keep certified. Even do some charity work. But I'll never practice again."
Janet again slept.
The loud voices came from next door, and Janet could make out the words.
"Lauren nearly killed her. What were you doing?"
"She accepted to take Myra's place. She knew what kind of person Lauren is."
"What was she doing there?"
"There was a party. I took her. She should have refused."
"This is all your doing, Tiffany. I never knew that you were capable of such evil, but since you associate with Lauren, I'm not surprised."
Darkness returned to Janet as she again slept.
Janet walked out of the bedroom, a victory. A physical therapist was called in, and Janet's muscles were exercised. Gradually, she recovered.
One day, Janet pretended to sleep on the bed. She was on her stomach as usual, and she could be left alone for brief periods. Tina had resumed her duties, and Tiffany would be absent as long as Stephanie was caring for Janet.
"Aren't you forgetting something, Mistress?" asked Camille.
"What's that?"
"Janet's state of mind," bluntly stated Camille.
"Don't exceed your authority," angrily replied Stephanie, "and forget that you're my Maid."
"Maid and Nurse, you mean. Just because you sewed up Janet's back doesn't mean that her mind will be healed also."
"I should strike you for that, Camille," Stephanie answered.
"Unless you're a psychologist also, I suggest that you call one in."
"Are you now a doctor also?" asked Stephanie.
"No. You may have repaired her bodily wounds. But the experience of being nearly whipped to death by Lauren will leave wounds in her psyche."
"You're an insolent, insulting little slave today, Camille. Unfortunately, you're also right," sighed Stephanie, "I just hope that Janet can recover."
Janet closed her hands into fists, her fingers tightly clenched together. Her nails dug into her palms, leaving red marks with their imprints. Even though she had been pretending to sleep, tears formed in her eyes and wet the pillow.
'Why do I want to die?' Janet cried silently to herself.
The days after her nightmare encounter with Mistress Lauren stretched into weeks. Stephanie attended to Janet, and the bandages on her back got steadily smaller as her flesh slowly healed from being damaged by the whip.
"Janet," began Stephanie, "I'm sorry."
"About what?" asked Janet.
"Your back. I thought that it would heal, but it didn't. You're going to be scarred by what Lauren did to you. I tried everything that I could. But the skin was too heavily damaged. Perhaps I should have taken you to the hospital after all."
"And what would have happened when the police would have started asking questions? Explain that I was the entertainment at a little S&M party? No doctor would have remained silent about my injuries after you'd have brought me in. My life as a Mistress would have been over."
"Then look at yourself," said Stephanie.
Janet rose from the bed and stood in front of the bedroom mirror, while Stephanie undid the ties at the back of Janet's gown. It fell to the floor, and Stephanie held a mirror near Janet's back so she could see. Janet saw the reflection of her own back in the large mirror.
Where once Janet's back was smooth and pretty, now the skin was an angry red color. The flesh was torn and uneven and had not healed properly. Anyone who saw her back would know that she had been abused horribly in some manner.
"Thank you, Stephanie," said Janet, her voice breaking with tension.
Stephanie caught Janet as she fell to the bed, naked and sobbing. She held and soothed her friend, encouraging her to cry out all of her feelings.
"There now," said Stephanie. "It's all right. I'm here."
"It hurt so much! The pain!"
Tears fell from her eyes and ran down her cheeks as the memory of what had happened to her replayed itself in her mind. Every stroke of the whip had been like a gunshot exploding against her back, and she felt as her skin broke and blood dripped down her naked skin. She had actually felt her own blood seep between her buttocks and run down her legs.
"Cry it out Janet," soothed Stephanie, "don't repress your feelings. I'll always be here for you."
"It didn't stop! It just went on and on!" Janet sobbed, her body wracked by emotions long repressed.
Stephanie held Janet tightly in her arms, rocking Janet as if she were a child.
"It's all right to cry. No Mistress or slave should have had to endure what you did, that isn't what being a Mistress is about. We're not here to kill or maim."
"I wanted to die!" cried Janet.
"It's all right, Janet. Everything's all right, now," soothed Stephanie as she clutched Janet tightly to herself, as Janet continued to cry.
The memory of what she had undergone replayed itself in her mind. Janet remembered each stroke of the whip as it struck her back. Her skin breaking and bleeding, the liquid sound the whip made each time it struck the slick surface that her back had become. The tears that fell from her eyes as the pain became steadily unbearable. Desperately she tried to scream and plead for mercy, but the rubber ball buckled between her lips blocked her cries. Finally, the welcoming darkness that she hoped was death, which would release her from the pain, and the leering face of Mistress Lauren.
"I wanted to die!" repeated Janet, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"It's all over now, Janet," said Stephanie as she clutched Janet tightly to herself.
Janet curled up in Stephanie's arms, tears flowing from her eyes. She cried for hours, and Stephanie held onto Janet, not moving, for most of the day.
Janet walked with Stephanie through the Dungeon. She looked at the chains, the whips, and the other things. She placed a collar around her neck, but didn't lock it shut. Janet shivered when she saw the whip.
"There is a big difference between discipline and being stopped with a safeword, and outright sadism which is what Lauren practices. Just remember than Erica never treated you or anyone else like that."
"Yes, I remember."
"Do you want to be a Mistress again?"
"Yes," said Janet firmly, "yes."
"That's your destiny, you know. That's why Erica gave you her estate and her property. You can start with Tina, your slave. Or me, if you'd like."
"Thank you," said Janet, as she held a riding crop in her hands.
"Janet, I have a confession to make," said Stephanie.
"Go ahead," answered Janet as she sat down on a leather-covered bench, one that she had been bound upon by Erica.
"Do you remember when Erica sent you to my house?"
"How can I forget? You placed me on the rack," Janet answered.
"That's what I have to tell you about. Erica left me very specific instructions what I was allowed, and not allowed, to do with you. I was not allowed to place you on the rack. But in the heat of the moment, in my sexual excitement, I forgot her orders," recalled Stephanie.
"What happened?" asked Janet, fascinated.
"Erica was furious with me. I never saw her so angry before, she raged at me, and said I would be the one to blame if you left serving Erica, if you stopped wanting to be her slave. She wanted to take me down to my own Dungeon and use me until I cried for mercy, but she never did."
'Perhaps because she was busy doing something else, Stephanie,' Janet thought, 'Like arranging her own death, and the competition between Tiffany and myself.'
"I liked you from the first time I used you, Janet. You took all of the discipline that I meted out, and never complained," Stephanie continued.
"Thank you, Stephanie."
Stephanie rose from the bench and dropped to her knees in front of Janet, who was speechless.
"Use me, Janet. Just as Erica wanted to. I'll submit to anything that you desire anything at all. Even if you draw blood, I won't beg for mercy."
"There's no need for that, Stephanie. I fell in love with you, and Erica disciplined me harshly when I returned. You performed as any Mistress would with a new slave, and you didn't hurt me. Lauren did."
"Thank you, Janet."
"Thank you for being my friend, Stephanie. I wouldn't have known what to do from Day One as a Mistress without your help. And thank you for saving my life. I would have died without you," said Janet as she choked back tears.
"Are you all right?" asked Stephanie as she rose and hugged Janet.
"I'm fine, thank you. I'd just like to be alone here."
"No Janet, you shouldn't be alone," cautioned Stephanie.
"Just for a little while," Janet answered.
"I'll wait outside, on the steps," said Stephanie.
As she was leaving, Stephanie saw Janet rise and pick up a framed picture of Erica, hugging it to her body. Stephanie left the door slightly open, and sat down to wait. She heard quiet sobs, but remained outside.
After almost an hour, the door finally opened, and Janet exited the Dungeon.
"Are you all right?" asked Stephanie.
"I'm fine," Janet answered.
"What's next?"
"How's the stock market doing?" Janet asked.
"What?" replied Stephanie, puzzlement clearly evident on her face, as they ascended the stairs together.
The End of Chapter Nine Part Two