Archive-name: Slaves/trainin1.txt Archive-author: K.K. Archive-title: Reporter, The CHAPTER ONE My name is Kathleen Krekovitch and I am a free-lance reporter. The following story is one which few will believe because it is so unusual, but it is nonetheless true. Female domination is far more widespread than imagined. I managed to get an extended interview with one of the best known and certainly the most wealthy of the Mistresses in Mexico. The interview cost five thousand dollars, which I thought was a lot, but it turns out that this is about the fee for a one-week lease. Her name is Madame Diane and she operates in Mexico because she gets less interference with the police as they are easier to bribe than those in the United States. Even so, the majority of her clientele are wealthy American women. She trains male slaves. "There is a technique to it," she said, "but that technique depends greatly upon the individual male involved. The main thing is that he has to learn that all of his vaunted strength and supposed intellect, what a laugh, are but there to serve a woman better. Let me show you." She took me to an apartment complex and I had a view of the courtyard from behind a one-way mirror. "We will take you through the stages of training one we have selected for an actress in California. The subject lifts weights and is careful with his health, except on Friday nights when he drinks. We have been planning this abduction and capture for a month now, and today is the day we get him. He was up late last night and now will shower and appear in the sun below. You may take notes, but be careful not to interfere or you will regret it." CHAPTER TWO CAPTURE OF THE SUBJECT It was one of those cool but sunny days, just a few days before summer officially ended. He had been up late the night before having a few drinks and watching the baseball game on T.V. and whatever else followed. About 11:00 he woke, took a brief shower, put on his brief posing suit, and stretched out in the sun, hoping to relax for a while as his head cleared. About an hour later, he began to hear some feminine giggles and activity from the apartment above. He looked up, but only saw the rows of balconies with some stereos playing off in the distance. Nothing special, he thought. He closed his eyes again and then heard some doors sliding open. At that point, he looked up and saw one of the girls in the apartment above him sort of toss a glass of water over the balcony and leave quickly as the water landed on his chest. He simply moved his blanket over and away a few feet to avoid further accidents and shortly heard "what did he do?" "He just moved away." Then they began to talk among themselves a bit, but he couldn't make out what they said. he was about to give up the whole thing when one of them put her head over the railing and said "Hi. Isn't it cold?" "Not really, why'd you throw water on me?" "That was my room-mate. Does that tanning-blanket get you more tan?" "I don't know, but it's a lot easier to clean," he said. She went back into her apartment, and he thought that was the last of it and closed his eyes again. Suddenly, he felt something again, something rough to his skin. He looked and saw ropes across his chest. He started to get up and was pulled to the side and to the ground again. They had thrown a net on him and had pulled it tight. No matter how he tried, he just got himself tied up more tightly. Then about ten or twelve of them came from various locations and together they pulled him along the ground, gathered up the top ropes, fastened them to a hook suspended from the roof, lifted him upward, and swung him into one of the apartments. The doors and windows were shut, but it was very bright inside. "Stop struggling" said one of them as she prodded him with an electric cattle prod. "We need to see how much you like the water," she said. Other giggled and a few laughed, pushing one another. He was lifted a bit into the air and into a glass cage filled with ice-water. He could feel the water bite into his muscles and then began to shiver. Still, they kept him in and he began to feel the ropes tighten. He passed out, because the next thing he knew was that he was on his back on a platform on the floor. As he began to move, he felt a sharp sting on his arm and one of the girls said "be careful. Don't move unless you want to get cut bad." He saw what she meant. He was surrounded by sharp pointed knives thrusting up from inside the wooden platform. If he moved, he would be cut. "Now we get to see how much self-control you have. That is a nice, brief, sexy, suit you've got on. Where'd you get it?" He started to look around again, but she said "No, that's why we brought you up here. When we talk, you answer." She then began to run a large feather up and down his legs. He wanted to draw back from it, but wanted to avoid the blades. This agony continued for a long time and the sweat began to cover him. "I guess he needs to be cooled off," another said, and ice water hit him. He didn't dare move. He lay there, afraid to move a muscle for hours, while the girls discussed what to do with him. All of them seemed excited and all had ideas, some more cruel than the other. Finally, a compromise was decided upon. "We've decided to give you a shave," one said, and she pulled out a razor and sharpened it on a leather strap. She began with his chest, then his legs, and then pulled down his suit to get his pubic hair when one said "why not try my way?" as the others agreed loudly. Her way was to pull the hairs out one at a time. The pain from each was intense and he had to remain completely still because of the knives, but the cumulative pain was even more vicious. This torment went on for hours it seemed and, when it was over, he simply lay there whimpering. "Just like a puppy dog spanked for being naughty," said one, and this gave an idea to some of the others. "I think we should keep him!" "What?" "Keep him. Like a pet." "You mean a slave, a captive slave." "Yeah." All of them thought this was a good idea, and began to confer about it. Soon, two of them tossed ropes around his neck and one said "Now we are going to let you up. You will listen and obey or experience great pain." Then the knives disappeared into the platform but, before he was able to relax, he was told to stand. "Drink this," said one. He asked "What is it?" and felt a sharp vibrating sting on his ass. "Do as we say," she said, and he obeyed. CHAPTER THREE A NEW BEGINNING He awoke in another place, not the apartment. He later learned that it was the mansion belonging to one of the girl's father who was out of the country at the time. He noticed that he was wearing a sweat suit. He began to look around when a tall, husky looking woman came in, dressed in military garb. "I will be in charge of your physical fitness. You will do as you are told or be punished. If you do well, you will be rewarded. We may even take you out for a walk if you make exceptional progress." She held a whip in her hand to back up her authority. He began to look around but she said "I wouldn't try to escape if he were you. All the windows are barred and the building is surrounded by guard dogs. Also, each of is armed in one way or another. Now it is time for you to begin your workout." He was led to the gym. The gym had the usual equipment, but added were several video cameras which were operated by some of the same girls he saw at the apartment. There were also some other pieces of equipment he was unfamiliar with, but which soon would become all too well-known to him. "It is time for you to start," she said, and pointed to one of the stations. Each time, as he approached his limit, she shouted that he had to do one more and, if he didn't, the sharp cattle prod hit him. He was soon exhausted and his muscles sore. He had never worked out this intensely before. "Second time around," she barked, and he looked at her in disbelief. He could hardly move. She pointed again to the benchpress, and he laid down and tried to lift once again, but was unable to move the bar even an inch. "I guess you need to learn what happens when you don't go all out for us," she said, and ordered him to stand up, which he could barely do. The video cameras were running as he was ordered to take off his jacket. At first he refused, but she held a whip and he knew that she was ready to use it. Then the pants. One at a time he was told to remove the shoes, socks, shirt, and shorts. He was wearing only a posing suit, but this one was yellow -- he had never seen it before. "We hope you like the color," she said. "NOW GIRLS," she shouted and ten or so came in through the door and pulled him over to one of the machines he had wondered about, a large wheel-like device with four loops, one at each end to form a square. The girls forced his wrists and ankles into each of the loops and they were drawn tight. He tried to struggle, but after the long, two- hour workout, he was weaker than even two of them, much less ten working together. Then the loops were drawn tight and he was stretched spread-eagled on that cursed wheel. The wheel spun a few times. "That was to let you know what could be coming," said one who just entered wearing leather slacks and a jacket. "O.K. girls, now is the time for your suggestions, put them into this hat. The best one wins." The girls began to write and then put their suggestions into the hat. She read each one, and they applauded. The one that got the loudest applause won. He was very frightened when two suggestions in particular got loud cheers, both of which would involve permanent disfigurement. He could hardly believe being relieved at the suggestions that won. First he received ten lashes on the legs, arms, chest and midsection with a short, thick whip. Then the loops were drawn apart more sharply. As he was stretched taut, two girls began a wrestling match. It was particularly vicious, although he didn't see all of it since he almost passed out from the strain on his legs particularly. Finally, one ripped off the other's bra and pinned her and the defeated one was led outside. The victor approached him and put her finger around the waistband of the yellow suit. She pulled sharply and ripped it off, leaving a yellow posing strap. The cameras moved in. She then teased his prick until it pushed at the strap which she pulled off. She then pulled out some elastic and wrapped it around his cock and balls and began to suck on his prick. She continued this until he was ready to come against his will and then stopped and nodded to the one in leather. This time he received fifteen lashes on each spot and his skin was red. She also pulled out the prod and ran it up his legs and down his chest. The sweat again began to pour down his body. The winner came up to him again and started over, this time inserting something up his rear. This object had a long wire attached to it and the other end was fastened to a box with a lever on it. As she began to tease his cock and it rose again to full height, she pushed the lever slowly and he felt a sting pain in his bowels and became soft again. This was repeated over and over, much to the perverted delight to those bitches just sitting there enjoying his agony. She aroused him again and began to bite him in little nibbles. With this, the bitches wanted to join in, but she jumped on him, held his shoulders and wrapped her feet around his legs and slid up and down on him until she came, but the elastic still held him stiff as others did the same. Finally, after ten of them had finished with him, the one with the leather came and undid the elastic. She put her hand around his prick and he came. CHAPTER FOUR MADAME SPEAKS AGAIN After about of week of observing the things they were doing to this man, I asked to see Madame Diane again. Above all, I wanted to know why they did certain things. Q. What is the purpose of all this? A. I get paid $20,000 for a subject plus $5,000 per week. He has to be attractive, well-built, and, above all, obedient. Q. But how does this all make him obedient? The one I've been observing seems to be resentful, if anything. A. He is still in the early stages. First we initiate him, that was the apartment. They come to think of it as a doorway and actually hope to go back there. That's why we have them here where the police don't bother us. They actually thing it's some sort of summer home that belongs to one of the girls. Q. What about the woman in military garb? A. He will eventually think of him as his mother, the one who takes care of him. You see, part of this is also to reduce them to the same mind set they had when they were twelve. Some we have to take all the way back to toilet training, but not this one. Q. Why not? A. This one is specially commissioned by someone who like a bit of resentment and independence. It's really quite a delicate job. Q. What about the one in leather? A. She is punishment. He will learn to do anything she commands -- that is part of our brainwashing. Q. What about the cameras? A. Insurance, and extra profits. He knows about them, so we can blackmail him. At the same time, we rent the videos for parties of professional women. Q. Isn't this all a bit cruel? A. He isn't a human being to me, he is just another subject who will bring a profit if properly trained. Q. Trained for what? A. All of my products are capable of acting a variety of roles. They can endure, obey, be women, captive slaves, horses, dogs, gladiators, etc. Q. Gladiators? A. Right. You know how popular professional wrestling is? Did you know that most of the audience is women? And they know it is fake. Think of how much they would pay if it were real, but with real rules to prevent permanent damage which would, of course, reduce the value of the men. Of course, the pain and the sweat are real, as is the humiliation. Q. Humiliation? A. Right, humiliation is one of our chief weapons. They must know that they are totally in our hands, that they have no control over their fate, that we are their total masters. Q. How do you train for gladiators? A. He begins that training tomorrow. Why not observe? CHAPTER FIVE COMBAT AND PAIN "In the combat training, the most important thing we teach them is that the penalty for loosing is very great. Too many of them will simply suffer defeat, let themselves be pinned, rather than suffer further. They have to think that defeat is the worst that can happen to them, and the only way we can do that is by showing them what happens if they loose. But first they have to lose, and that is what this session is about." Madame Diane was obviously excited about this phase of the training and quite talkative about it. "One of the most glorious and sexy sights is two men fighting for the pleasure of on looking women," she said, and continued to talk until she was called away and I was left alone to watch. I was near ringside. The ring was much like a boxing ring, only this one was surrounded by women, all of them quite expectant of what would come next. I saw the captive brought in -- he had his hands lied behind him and was wearing a robe. Underneath he was wearing sturdy but scant trunks. "That's so they can take punishment, but only so much," said Kathy who sat down besides me. "Diane asked me to answer your questions." In came the opponent, a large, ugly man, who looked like a Russian weightlifter, wearing blue jeans and a sweatshirt. "That's Ivan, the one who breaks in the new men. Remember, they have to learn the agony of defeat," Kathy laughed. The bell rang and Ivan came out slowly, smiling. Danny, I learned his name was, still had his robe on, but the referee, the girl in the leather, stopped the bout to remove it, much to the delight of the spectators. Danny was well-muscled, even more so as a result of his week in captivity, but clearly was no match for the experienced and heavier Ivan. Ivan slowly cut off the ring and Danny moved to avoid him. Then Ivan got hold of his arm and put Danny in an armlock and began to apply pressure. I could see the pain on his face. As he seemed about to drop, Ivan turned him around, picked him up, and threw him to the canvas. The spectators screamed with delight. Danny got up and was rewarded by a full-nelson. The pain must have been terrible. Somehow, Danny slipped out. Ivan charged in anger, and Danny managed to flip him over, showing that he had wrestled somewhere before. He dove to pin Ivan, but the referee reached for a cattle prod and stung Danny who moved away. Now Ivan was angry. He grabbed Danny by the hair and threw him against the ropes, slapping him as he bounced off. Danny slumped to his knees. Ivan pulled him up by his hair and got him in a backwards bear-hug as Danny kicked and waved his arms. The girls screamed and shouted "Pull them off," and Ivan did. Ivan was not finished yet however. He tied Danny's arms in the ropes and punched him in the gut over and over again. He stretched his legs apart and then chocked him. I must admit that even I was becoming aroused at this sight, a handsome, muscular man, writhing in agony, sweating and straining, in the nude, right in front of me. "Now you should see the punishment," Kathy said, as she gave a signal to the one in leather. Ivan finished off Danny with a few kicks and then pinned him. At another signal, Danny was tied to the floor. "Now we begin the teaching part. Notice all these women here? They've paid $50 a ticket for this and unless the man puts up a good fight, they expect some real punishment. He did O.K., considering, but he still must learn." A woman dressed as a nurse came into the ring and pulled out a hypodermic and injected it into his arm. "This will give him great pain and agony," Kathy said and she was right. Danny began to squirm and twist on the canvass, almost in spasms and then began to cry out. The one in leather pulled out a whip at this and began to swing away. This lasted for about five glorious minutes and then silence. Slowly, the one in leather removed his trunks, as all looked almost in reverence. The drug also had the effect of producing a tall, stiff erection. It stood out in the center of Danny, in the center of the canvass, pulsing as Danny still quivered. I wanted to feel it within myself, but the drawing started. After the winning number was called, a woman got up, pulled up her dress, and sat on it, and rose, and sat, and rose, until she came. Then came others. Still it stood up, with us all looking in wonder. The one with leather pulled out a knife and moved toward it. All were silent as she moved the knife along it. Danny looked in terror. She moved her arm back and started to swing forward and Danny passed out. "Perfect timing," said Kathy, "He'll remember that!" Danny was carried out on a stretcher as the women watched, somewhat reverent, but spent, and completely satisfied. CHAPTER SIX ON DISPLAY The next technique I witnesses was designed to strip the subject of all self-dignity, to remove all vestiges of modesty. The guy was strapped, fully, but deceptively, clothed, on a rack similar to the one in the gym. This time, however, he was at full strength and awareness, and was beyond a short fence about fifteen feet away from where the women would walk by. It was sort of a game. The women would pay $5 to pull a lever which was attached to a slot machine and three lemons would cause one piece of his clothing to be removed. At first the action was slow, but it was only noon and the booth had been open for only about half and hour. Slowly, however, parts of his clothing began to disappear. First his shoes and socks, which were presented to the winner. Next, the shirt and slacks, and I could see his muscles straining at the bonds, but to no avail. After hours, his undershirt and then he was left only in a swim suit. The next winner left him in only a posing suit, and then the action stepped up, and so did the shouting. The next winner left him with a strange looking suit --the front looked like a posing suit, but the rear was cut so that his solid, firm buttocks were on display. His face turned red as play was stopped. The women stared, looked, shouted, made suggestions, for about an hour. Then play resumed, and the next winner left him with just a posing strap. A new woman, wearing a flowing white gown, came in. She pulled another lever and the wheel moved down and toward the crowd. His bonds shifted so that he lay at attention on his back. He was surrounded by the women who could look but not touch, talk but not do. He was thus left on display for ten hours as hundreds of women of all types walked by and stared, each making their own comment on all aspects of him. This had two effects: First, it was to thoroughly degrade him to think of himself as perpetually naked before woman. Second, it would raise the bidding for the final piece of cloth. The angel in white pulled the lever again, and he was returned to his original position on the rack. The winner got to remove the strap personally and then wires were attached to various parts of his body. The slot machine began to whirl again, and each win sent a shock of varying intensity to an appropriate part of the body. This continued for another five hours, and I could see that he was fully exhausted and broken, whimpering and trembling, with the hint of tears from his eyes. I didn't know if I should contribute to this sadism by being here, or if I should let myself go and try to get him for myself. I found the instinct in me driving me to try the slot-machine and I finally did. As I looked back, it was pretty sick, but at the time, I couldn't help myself, so carried away I was with the chance to be the dominant one. I pulled the lever and got the triple lemons, and the result was horrible and wonderful. Every muscle in his body stood out as if he was a human anatomy chart! The pain and strain must have been immense, but all I could think about was what a wonderful creation he was. Those muscles called from my soul all the strongest drives I had hidden behind my professional demeanor. Then, he was left there to rest, but still on display. "You'll get a chance at him later, if you want," Kathy said, "but now he has to stay like that until he thinks of it as his natural condition. That way, Madame Diane can take him to his next step, and I know you'll want to see that." CHAPTER SEVEN THE STRIPPER Madame Diane led me into a large auditorium which was empty. "This is my second favorite part of the training, and it is doubtless the most erotic. By now he believes everything we tell him." "What have you told him?" I asked. "Well, this goes back to the belly dance. It was originally done in the harem by women who had to dance in competition to get the attention of the master, to arouse him into wanting to have sex with her. How disgusting! Well, we've turned it around. Lois, the one in leather, has told him that if he did not get $100 in tips put into his clothes, he would be strapped to that board and whipped from behind." I looked at the board. It had sharp nails protruding from it so that if he recoiled from the whip, he would be cut. "That," I said, looks particularly vicious." "No more than what men have done to women," she said. "Also, he has been able to talk to another guy for the first time in a month, but he doesn't know he is one of our well-trained slaves. He has told him horrifying stories of men mutilated on that board, so I'm sure he will give a good performance." Then the women began to file into the auditorium, about two hundred, all in a very festive mood. They talked and chatted for a while as drinks were served and soon became impatient. Then the lights went out and the music started, the theme from 2001. The spots came on and out came Danny. Danny began to dance. The music faded and drums took over. He seemed to fall in with the rhythm of the jungle drums. "The drug we gave him," whispered Diana, "makes it impossible for him to ignore the beat." Danny began to strip and soon peeled down to a pair of scanty briefs, buttocks exposed. He moved close to the frantic women and leaned over backward as they put bills into his crotch, some grabbing a feel as they did so. The mood was intense and the women were wild. Danny moved back and pulled off the suit, leaving him with only a posing strap to cover his nudity. After the last lesson, he didn't care about that, only about getting more bills. The women shouted out poses and postures for him to assume and he did them, never missing a beat. It was wonderful and captivating, animal like energy and vigor. And Danny was lean and muscular, not an ounce of fat on him, and every muscle seemed to offer itself to the nearest woman, and all in time to the be at of the drums. Again, I found myself as horny as I've ever been, and Danny kept on. Soon, he was only five dollars away, and writhed on his back, holding the elastic of the posing strap with one hand and his other palm out to the audience. A fat drunk woman held out the $5 he needed, and he pulled off his strap and gave it to her. He then ran toward to box to deposit it as the women stormed the stage. They piled on top of him, but he had made his quota. They poked him, pulled his prick, stuck their fingers up his ass, but he relaxed and let them have their way, for he had made his quota. "You see, he feels no desire to run. He is just happy he has done what we told him to do. A far cry from that afternoon in the apartment, eh?" said Diana with pride. "But now there is no spirit," I said, "doesn't that defeat your purpose?" "Ah, but he is spirited enough to do whatever we say to please us, no matter how hard it is. That's the spirit we want," she said as she blew a whistle. In came ten women dressed in the leather costumes and cleared the pile of women and led Danny away. His eyes were glazed, but he smiled faintly. CHAPTER EIGHT ANIMAL TRAINING "This is Madame Diana's favorite part, the horse training part," said Mistress Kathy. "She got the idea from a magazine article she saw a few years ago, and refined it into an art. She really believes in it and supervises the training personally." We were in a medium sized room, off to the side. I had been told to stay out of the way, keep my mouth shut, and not to interfere. Danny was led, naked, into the room by a leash attached to a collar around his neck. He smiled. "Hands and feet, slave!" shouted Diana as she cracked a riding crop against his face, "and wipe that smile off your face!" "I only aim to please," said Danny, and instantly Diana was on him like a woman possessed, wailing away with the crop. "Never speak to me! Horses don't speak! Hands and knees!" And Danny kneeled down. "Now for the bit and bridle," she announced. It was nothing more than a long, blue piece of string. She wrapped it around his cock and balls, then pulled either end of it across his chest and over his shoulders. She then sat on his back and gave a sharp tug. I could see him wince. "One means to go forward, another to stop. If I pull on the right string, like this," as she gave another sharp tug on one side, "it means to go right. If I pull one the left, like this, go left. Now go!" she said as she tugged again and Danny began to walk on his hands and knees with Diana astride him." Kathy whispered to me. "Actually Danny's very lucky." As I saw Danny, muscles straining, I wondered how he could be considered lucky. "Madame Diana has two kinds of horses, riding and pulling. Danny is for riding. However, he will be given some training in pulling, and then you will see." At that, Madame Diana gave another tug, and Danny stopped. "Hold your head up," she said, as she gave him a whack of his exposed buttocks, "and act like a horse, not a cow," and she gave him two more before he held his head up. "You need to remember at all times that your nothing but a horse; perhaps this will help you," she said as the one in leather handed her a foot long stick with hair attached to one end. "This is your tail," she said and proceeded to stick the end of it into his ass. It wouldn't go at first, so she put some oil on it and then twisted and turned it. "Loosen up," she barked as she lashed him with the small riding crop. He tried, and the stick went in. She then sat on his back again and gave the tug. She rode him out the door and I heard applause coming from outside. I looked at Kathy. "You haven't seen our race track yet," she said. "Come with me." We went out the other door and around the building, up some stairs, and we were in the grandstand overlooking the racetrack. Actually, there were two tracks, a longer, smooth track on the outside, and a shorter, cinder covered one on the inside. I saw Danny on his hands and knees, Madame Diana, dressed in riding clothes, astride him. Next to him was another "horse" and rider. In the center was the same board I had seen at the dance performance, but with different looking needles. I wondered at this, but soon I heard a shot. They were off! The women in the stands were screaming and shouting for their favorite. The race was neck and neck for awhile until Danny stumbled. Madame Diana reacted promptly by slashing her whip, not against her mount, but the face of the other rider who fell off. Danny straightened out and continued and the other rider remounted and began to whip her mount. It was an exciting contest, made more so by the screaming a shouting of the women fans. In the end, Mistress Diana won. "This victory means about 20% more in fees she can charge, and it is a loss for Madame Fagan. To regain respect, she will punish her mount. This could have happened to our subject," explained Kathy. At this point, the other man was strapped facing the needles. Madame Fagan took a whip and began to lash him. As he recoiled from the whip, his body was thrown against the sharp needles. He recoiled only to meet the whip again. Then flinching toward the needles, and back again. The women watching were quieter than I expected, then I noticed that they all had their hands between their legs, masturbating as they watched the agony and destruction of this man. CHAPTER NINE BEAST OF BURDEN That was not to be the end of Danny's training. "He is now to be trained for the penis pull. He has seen what happens to a looser, and will try hard," said Kathy. Danny came out again, walking on two feet, led by Madame Diana by the string attacked to his cock and balls. Danny stood at attention on the cinder track as Madame tightened the plastic string and then attached the other end to what look a bit like a Roman Chariot. She got in the chariot and shouted "Walk backward!" Danny tried, but the pain made it difficult. A lash from a long whip caught him across the chest and he tried again, this time pulling the chariot by his penis. I could see the agonized look on his face, almost feel the tremendous pain he must be experiencing, and was also aroused against my will. He had to pull the cart around the entire track without uttering a sound, and do it within a certain time. "He's lucky this in only a demonstration. If he was trained for this, rather than the race, and he lost, he would be hung from his penis until he fell unconscious or until it ripped off. Both have happened. As it is, if he doesn't make it, there is a punishment." Danny strained, moving backward, along the track. I had always noticed his upper body muscles, but now his thighs became tight and muscular as well. I could see him begin to sweat from the strain and I could see the agony in his face. Every second I thought his cock would be pulled out of its socket, but he managed to continue. I looked around and noticed for the first time that there were some men as well in the stands. Cameras were flashing, movie cameras were out, as well as videos. Many of the fans had their hands between their legs and other were shouting. Madame Diana whipped Danny again and he began to move faster. Time was running out, and she didn't want to loose her investment. One more lash, and Danny made it across the finish line and then doubled over in pain, clutching at his groin. As he did, those in the stands reached their own climaxes and Danny was carried out by the arms. "Now he'll rest for a few days, and then on to other things, "Kathy said. CHAPTER TEN AN OFFER FROM DIANA So far, I had felt that I was a reporter and did not have any obligation to intervene or tell the police. In fact, I had the duty to protect my sources. However, I had also had second thoughts because I had become horny not a few time during this story. Still, I thought I could justify it to myself for professional reasons. Then Madame Diana summoned me to her office. I had never seen her office before. It was a luxurious, business like place, except for the pictures hanging on the wall depicting men in various stages of nudity and servitude, nakedness and agony. She motioned for me to sit down. "Each man I train must be able to serve his mistress well. I can break him in so that he has the desire to serve. I can strip him of all dignity and resistance. I can build his body and control his brain. The one think I can't do, however, is see how he functions out there," she said pointing off somewhere. "So how can you guarantee he will please?" I asked. "Trial run," she said. "Mistress Kathy has told me that you have been looking at our stud with more than, shall I say, a professional interest? I see. Well, I am offering him to you for one night, free of charge. Throw a party, invite your friends, and have him there as a servant. All I ask is a full report, complete with any complaint from anyone he fails to please. The only restriction is that the party be all-female. My client is very particular that her stud be clean." "But my friends are all in Chicago, San Francisco, and New York," I pointed out. "We will fly them down here," she said, "Perhaps I can arrange for a series of parities starring some of my other trainees as well. The expense will be recovered from the rentals, anyway," she said. I agreed and left her office. I then went to my room and began to think. I had already agreed, so that wasn't the point. I just seemed to me that I was getting deeper and deeper into something I hadn't expected to. I went downstairs to the booth by the gym. Through the one-way mirror I could see him working out, being put through his paces by the woman in the military garb. He was about six feet tall, 195 pounds. His hair was light brown, and his body was shaved clean. His face was handsome, but what I noticed most was his body. Not an ounce of fat on it, and his muscles stood out as he strained them under her watchful eye. His pectorals at the benchpress and butterfly, his biceps doing curls, his ripped thighs at the leg extension machine, and his abdominals at several exercises, leg raises being the sexiest. How could I pass up this opportunity, I thought to myself, and went beck to my room to send out the invitations and then to plan the agenda, leaving room for suggestions. I invited only the horniest and most aggressive of my friends, but still there would be twenty or thirty at the party. I could hardly wait! --