The Course

I

Flora and Orange were relieved that he had paused for a break. Their ball-gags were locked together, their tits pressed together and their bodies strapped together and were suspended from the ceiling by their wrists. Their legs had been spread wide and their thighs and ankles had been strapped together, just tight so that they’d be uncomfortable but not too tight so as to cut off circulation. Their feet were several inches off the ground.

They hung there, one veteran hairy slave and the other a fresh recruit, bearing the earliest signs of restoration. But it was still a contrast. Orange’s stubbly underarm was no match for the thick curls on Flora. Their pussies had a similar contrast. The hair certainly cushioned Flora’s pussy from the lashes that came from underneath.  Red marks were criss-crossed on their backs. With each lash their tits rubbed together. They couldn’t flay about on their own as they were so closely strapped together. Tears ran down their faces as they whimpered with each lash, with each crack of the whip, the 9-tails, the leather paddle.

They couldn’t scream. They closed their eyes as he struck them, each getting her turn. Flora was calmer than Orange. She knew when he would stop. But she was hungry. Her bladder was full. She had to hold it in until he let them down. He hated accidents during these sessions.  Orange kept her eyes tightly closed as he lashed her from her ankles and up to her upper back. Their nipples were peaked, their pussies were wet from all the stimulation. Orange thought about her friends. She couldn’t hear them. She wondered if they were still in the tiny cell. At least they were together. She thought about Spring Break. The beaches, the sun, the bikinis, the drinks, the men, the debauchery. The pain was unbearable. He seemed to focus on her more than Flora. Not fair, she thought. She drifted in and out of consciousness. Did she have enough tears to get through this session? She tried to think about better times. She imagined herself in the shower, soaping herself, shaving herself. The cool refreshing water on a hot summer day.

She didn’t realize that he had paused yet again. Her skin was on fire. The thought of a shower helped. But it would remain that, a mere thought.

He put blindfolds on them now. He removed their gags for a few minutes. They gasped. He gave them water and put the gags back on. He let them swivel from the ceiling as he tended to other matters.

He came back for another round, this time focusing on Flora first. He landed blow after blow with the leather paddle, evenly reddening her ass and legs. Flora was about to let go, she couldn’t hold it any longer. She squirmed and moaned but managed to hold on. He knew exactly how she was feeling.

He let Orange down first. She could barely get onto her feet. She was sore and exhausted.  “You must be thirsty,” he said, “Flora can help with that.” He positioned her under Flora. “Every last drop, slut. Drink up,” he ordered, “don’t spill else you’ll be licking the floor.”

Orange did not complain. After all, the roles were reversed back in the cell. Flora let it go, relieved. Orange struggled to finish but she did. He pulled her back onto her feet.

This time the cell was very small. It was underground. It was pitch black. There was no toilet. There was nothing. Flora and Orange were lowered into the tiny space, one by one. They were blindfolded and gagged. Their wrists and ankles were held in place, a few inches apart, with solid steel bars and a leather strap kept their arms fixed by their sides. They crouched next to each other with no room to move. The hatch closed shut. The only noises apart from their moaning and whimpering was that of the air circulation and their stomachs growling.

II

There was virtually no room to move. Flora and Orange crouched next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, virtually immobilized by their restraints and the tiny space. Flora knew there would be some relief but Orange had no idea how long they would be in there. She was very hungry and thirsty and slowly feeling the urge to pee. She couldn’t bear to think about peeing right there. Where would it go? Her body ached from the lashing and suspension. She was sweating. She was shaking with fear. She thought about her friends. He had named them after fruits. He called them his fruit basket. There was Peach, Apple, Plum and Cherry. Why did he choose her first? What was he doing to the others?

Flora managed to reposition herself so that her butt touched the ground. She had never been in this space before. This was new. Plus she was sharing a small space with someone she had just met. She liked Orange. She wanted to help her and guide her through these early times. She hoped Master wouldn’t take her away from her. It was refreshing to have a new companion.

Soon the cover was opened and they were pulled to their feet. Their gags were removed but the blindfolds were kept in place. One by one they were fed. Some water, a scoop of pellets and more water. They were gagged before Orange could ask something and pushed back into the hole.

Orange clenched her thighs tighter as time passed. She was about to burst. She didn’t want to crouch in a puddle of piss, she’d rather drink it. She thought about anything that didn’t involve water. That was hard. It was hard not to thinking about the beach, the swimming pool, the shower, coffee, mixed drinks.  Flora, on the other hand, had learned to keep her mind blank. She remained still and calm and Orange kept squirming and fidgeting.

Finally, they were brought out of the hole. Their ankles were freed and their gags were removed.

They were made to take turns quenching their thirst with each other’s piss. Flora was returned to the hole without a gag this time. The lid remained open so she could hear Orange screaming as she was once again suspended and whipped from neck to toe, front and back. Her heart went out to her but she knew it would get better for her over time. She was new to this but her Master had clearly changed his initiation methods.

The rest of the fruit basket listened as their beautiful friend was tormented. It would soon be their turn.

III

Orange didn’t say a word the next time Flora saw her. She was crouching in the corner of the cell, her body covered in thin welts that were merely red and not swollen. He was so good, Flora thought to herself, what a pro with the whips. Her face was tear-streaked, her body caked with dirt and sweat. It had only been a couple of hours since Orange was being tormented. Flora was now back in her old cell, back in her shackles but without the 50 lb ball. She was a little fresher than before, having brushed her teeth and pooped before returning to her cell.

“Are you OK? Can I get you anything?” Flora asked her, without realizing how ridiculous her second question sounded.

Orange didn’t say a word.

For the next several hours they sat in silence, eating and drinking when served. Both of them pissed in the hole, not feeling the need to quench one another. Flora drifted off to sleep. Orange curled up on the floor in a fetal position and dozed off as well. Flora was so sound asleep that she didn’t know that Master had come by to take Orange away for another session. This time there were three of them, taking turns with each hole, cumming and pissing all over her for hours, letting her stew as they caught their breaths and quenched their thirst before starting all over again. When they were spent, they left her in that state. She topped it all off with her own piss. Her humiliation was complete. She could no longer think about the happier times. But restoration was far away for her.

IV

It wasn’t until several days later that Flora and Orange’s paths crossed again. Orange bore few signs of her torment. The welts were gone, her body had been hosed down. She had brushed her teeth and she had been fed the usual slave fare. They were outside for a change, out in the hot sun, shackled.

Flora let out a smile when she saw Orange. Orange looked at her and weakly smiled back. Her pussy was covered in a darker stubble. Flora had been hosed down the previous day so she felt clean. Now they waited for their Master to announce his intentions.

He came out of the house and headed towards them. He motioned them to sit on the bench. They sat down on the narrow bench, their thighs touching, their feet planted far apart, palms on their knees.

“The fruits have been picked,” he said, “last night Cherry and Peach were transferred. Apple will be leaving soon but Plum will stay.” Plum was the relatively chubby one in the bunch.

“Orange, I know you and Flora have bonded. Therefore I have crafted a plan for the two of you. You are still being initiated so you will find every step difficult and painful. Flora will help you through it. Good luck.”

He went back inside. Orange was confused, “what does he want us to do?”

Flora replied, “I’m not sure. Maybe we’re going back on the course. We have to find our way to a new destination and avoid being captured. I was on that until I messed up and he brought me back here. Don’t worry, it’s carefully laid out.”

“Like Survivor?” Orange asked, “the TV show.”

“I don’t know.”

This time was going to be very different, very difficult and very painful.

V

“Please Master, I can’t do this anymore,” Orange begged as she stared down at her, whip in hand. She was lying on her side on the ground, her ankles were shackled but two twenty pound weights were attached to each ankle. Her wrists were also shackled and another shackle was attached to her collar and that was connected to a fifty pound ball. She had to crawl from one end of the yard to the other, back and forth. She had barely made it across once and she was struggling.

“Keep moving,” he ordered. Orange dragged herself along the ground, pushing the ball and pulling her feet behind her. He cracked the whip several times as she struggled to move. She was panting, sweating profusely, suffering a lot. Flora, on the other hand, was faring a little better.

“That’s it, you good for nothing slut!” Master yelled at Orange. He undid his belt buckle and lowered his pants. He grabbed Orange from behind and plunged into her pussy. She let out a scream and he covered her mouth with one hand and squeezed her breasts with the other as he fucked her hard. Her pussy was throbbing and was dripping wet. Before he came her pulled out and pushed into her asshole. That’s where he shot his load, every last drop. Then he pushed her to the ground, pulled up his pants and went inside. Orange sobbed, the tears mixed with her sweat and the dirt. She pissed all over herself. Flora had slowly worked her way towards Orange.

He came back and removed her shackles. “Failure to comply,” he barked as he shackled her tightly. Her arms were shackled behind her back, her ankles were fixed in place. He lowered her into the ground and closed the lid, not before he fed her a large helping of warm piss.

This time she was desperate. Orange struggled in the dark hole, screaming at the top of her lungs. This hole was outside and the lid had three small openings for air. She knew they could hear her. She pulled at the solid steel bar that held her wrists. She finally gave up and slumped to the warm ground in tears.

After some time a hose was lowered into the hole. A funnel was attached at the other end. Whoever was above ground poured a bucket of runny salty grits at a rate faster than Orange could swallow. She managed to catch some on her thighs and knees but most of it got onto her body, face and hair. She ate what she could. The hose remained in place. Then came a warm trickle. Someone was pissing. Orange grabbed the hose with her lips and began drinking. She didn’t want any of that on her body. The grits were beginning to dry. Thankfully some water was poured down the funnel but Orange just drank it all.

The hole was three feet square, hardly any room for her to lie down.  She leaned against one side and planted her feet on the opposite side. She was sore and miserable. It was getting dark outside. She calmed herself and closed her eyes.

When she woke up she had to pee. She was also thirsty. She heard footsteps above ground. She grabbed the hose with her mouth. She drank what was served. It didn’t matter who it was, it tasted warm and sweet. The grits had completely dried on her and she wished she could wash it off. She lay back and peed against the wall. The ground would absorb it, she figured. She sat up and tried to sleep.

When she woke up it was morning. Sunlight was streaming into her hole and there were people above ground. She started to dig a small hole with her heel. The ground was fairly hard but her piss dampened it. Once she got a good chunk of earth loose she pushed it away and squatted over it. She pooped into the makeshift toilet. As she finished she heard footsteps close to the hole. She went near the hose, expecting something. More grits came down, streaming in before she could get in any position, covering her as she ate what she could.

VI

She was brought out a week later. Her body was caked in dirt and dried grits. Her hair was matted and tangled as well. The floor of the hole was covered in grits and pellets. Her makeshift toilet, which she had ingeniously fashioned, was full. She stood on the ground, her eyes adjusting to the bright sun. She was quiet. It was futile, she thought, there’s no point struggling on complaining.  Flora was doing some yardwork in the distance. There was another woman working as well and she was also naked.

Orange stood there, still shackled, but glad to be standing upright once again. Her limbs were sore from crouching. She desperately wanted to wash up.

“Your bush sure goes at a geological pace,” Master commented, “you’re no use to me unless you look like you’re supposed to look, the way you were created. The way all women were created.”

Orange said nothing.

“We might as well wait until those thick curls form between your legs. Why clean you up now? You’re better off down in that filthy hole.”

Silence.

“Nature can be cruel. You wax and shave and hope to impress and you upset the body’s natural process of regeneration. Your pits are filling up nicely.”

He summoned Flora, “take her to the porch and give her a minimal.” He proceeded to remove Orange’s shackles. She flexed her sore arms and legs.  She followed Flora towards the porch. Flora filled a small bucket with water. She handed Orange her toothbrush and pointed towards the drain. Then she gave her a cup of water to wash her face and hands with. After that Flora asked Orange to lie on her back and fold her legs at her breasts so she could wash her ass and pussy. Flora gently scrubbed her holes with soap and water, even going as far as inserting her fingers in her pussy to clean it. She could sense an intense urge coming over both of them, but with Master only yards away, they couldn’t take any chances.

Orange was partly clean. Her hair and the rest of her body were still caked in dried grits, dirt and sweat. She crouched near the porch, waiting for his next move. Flora washed her hands and went back into the house. Master followed her back in leaving Orange all by herself, unshackled, outside the house.

Flora emerged with a bowl of pellets and a bottle of water. She sat next to Flora and said, “it’s for both of us. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Orange whispered and proceeded to eat in silence. As she was taking the last sip of water she heard him yell from the house, “Flora! Go clean out the hole.” Flora quickly got up and grabbed a bucket and broom and scurried towards the hole. Orange sighed. She knew she was going back in there. Then she heard the sound of shackles. She turned her head to see who was coming. Master emerged from the house, chain in hand and behind him was Orange’s good friend Plum. Orange managed to control her shriek as she jumped up.

“Sit down,” he yelled at her. Plum emerged from the house into the bright sunlight. She averted her eyes, closing them tightly as he brought her down the steps into the yard. She slowly opened her eyes and looked towards Orange. She was expressionless.

Plum was a little thick and chunky. Her tits were large and well-rounded, she had an extra inch around her waist and her thighs were nice and thick. She was about 5’8” with her once long brown hair now cropped to shoulder-length. Now she had ankle chains and wrist chains on her. She was also wearing a steel collar that had a chain attached to it. The chain rested between her tits.

Orange could see the tuft of hair under her arms. Plum’s bush had grown back faster. She used to shave, not wax. Soft dark brown curls had formed. For once, Orange envied someone’s bush. They had all taken so much pain to keep their pussies bald and smooth.

“Enjoy the fresh air,” he told Plum, “no one wanted your chubby ass so you get to stay with me. These tits of your will go south soon. Look at your friend Orange. She’s barely got tits but she’s also falling behind in bush regrowth. At least you’re better off in that department.”

“Too bad you’ve been alone for a while. So has Orange. At least you’re not covered in muck like she is. If you want to be like her, we can arrange it. In fact, we’ve arranged something very special for the two of you. Get over here Orange.”

Orange got up and walked over. She stood next to Plum, her arm brushing against. She felt a tingle. It was nice to see her friend. In happier times, she’d say “OMG, I’m like with my BFF!” Not any more.

“Wasn’t the hole pleasant, Orange? We fed you, we even brought you out today and washed you. Now Flora is cleaning it out to make room for two. I’m sure you and Plum will be very comfortable down there.”

Plum had no idea where the hole was or what it was like. She had just been brought out of her cell for the first time since arriving here. She was glad to get some fresh air. She stole glances at Orange while Master kept talking.

“Orange, you and Flora have some work to do. Follow me,” he said, leading Plum by the leash towards a set of trees.  He waved Flora over and she scurried across the yard to join them. Orange tried to remove some of the caked grits from her arms as she followed everyone else.

She and Flora waited under a tree as Master undid Plum’s shackles and then made her spread her legs wide so that he could chain them to two tree trunks. He made her raise her arms and he secured them to chains that hung from the branches.  Plum was terrified. She was sweating.

“Plum will get her first lashing today. She’s had a comfortable stay so far in the basement Hilton. Now it’s time to set her on the right path towards a complete restoration.”

“Please, Sir, I’ll do anything,” Plum begged him.  He went around and grabbed her cheeks and shushed her.  He picked up a whip from the ground and came around her back. He slowly ran the leather strap down her spine and along her butt crack.

“Such a lovely body. I bet you were never happy with these curves and folds. Here we respect everyone, every shape, every size,” he continued, “Orange, come over here!”

Orange stepped forward. He handed her the whip. “Whip your friend,” he ordered her.

Orange was petrified. “I, I don’t…” her voice trailed off.

“Do as I say or you’ll be sorry,” he said in a very calm voice.

Tears welled up in Orange’s eyes. Plum was quietly sobbing. Flora stood by, watching in silence. He called her over. “Get on your knees and position your mouth below the chubby’s pussy. She’s due for a piss and you’re due for a drink.” Flora did as she was told. She knelt down and positioned her mouth close enough but not touching Plum’s newly hairy pussy. “It’s OK,” she whispered, trying to reassure her.

“I don’t have all day, Orange,” his voice was rising. Orange took a step back and got into position. She raised the whip. “I’m sorry honey,” she said and brought the whip down on Plum’s taut back. She let out a scream. Her body arched forward and her pussy rubbed against Flora’s tongue.

Another lash followed, across her back. More screams, “owwww, please stop!” Orange kept going, working her way down Plum’s back, across her butt and onto her legs.

“Good slave,” Master snickered. By now Plum’s pussy was wet from Flora’s tongue. Her juices were flowing too but she couldn’t think about it. Her body was on fire. Red marks criss-crossed her back. Flora no longer waited for Plum’s body to move, she was licking her away.

“I…I… have to pee badly,” Plum said through her tears, “please, let me go.”

“That’s what Flora is for,” Master responded, “Keep going, Orange!”

Orange landed a few more lashes on the back of Plum’s thighs. She was exhausted, sweating and panting. He grabbed the whip from her hands and went around to the front. He lashed Flora’s back for good measure. Each lash pushed her mouth against Plum’s pussy which was dripping wet.

“She’s thirsty. Help her out,” he ordered her. Plum had no choice. She let it flow and Flora, the pro that she was swallowed every drop of the warm clear piss that emerged from Plum, licking her pussy clean as she finished.

“Get up Flora. Step aside,” he ordered her. Flora went and stood by Orange who was still panting. He began to lash Plum’s breasts and belly as she screamed louder with each blow.

When he finished, he put the whip down and said, “welcome home. Flora, come with me.” He walked away, leaving an unshackled Orange by a sobbing Plum.

“I’m so sorry,” Orange said, stroking Plum’s face, kissing her cheeks, tasting her tears.

“It’s not your fault,” Plum whispered, “you were obeying him.”