Willow Chapter 6 Discipline
Page released Willow from the belt restraint and the ball gag.
“Clean up this mess. Shower and then come find me. Present yourself like you think a slave should. You have two hours.”
Page left the room and went to fix a small bite to eat. Willow would eat later.
Two hours and seven minutes later Willow found Page in a chair looking over blueprints of some kind. Willow stood by her chair and quietly coughed.
“Ma’am? I am done ma’am.”
Page did not move for a minute then looked up and smiled.
“Well, let’s go see shall we?”
Ten minutes later Willow was sure she was in trouble again. Page had found black hair all over the bathroom Willow had been told to clean. Page did not even need the white sticky tape she was using to find the smaller pieces. There were long hairs in the shower, under the chair and on the clippers Page had used to shear Willow’s head.
“I am beginning to see what we have to work with here.
“Slave, count the offenses.
“You did not complete the assigned task on time.
“You did not complete the assigned task properly.
“You did not approach your trainer with respect nor address yourself correctly.
“Slave, how many strokes punishment is that?”
“Ma’am, I, I mean this slave has 6 strokes due.”
“Six? I think you need a lesson in counting. We were at three earlier. Then you forgot to thank me for your punishment so we were starting with four. Then these three infractions mean…?”
Willow tried to count what that would mean. She was beginning to shake.
“Ma’am that would be 22 stokes.” Willow was almost sobbing.
“Really? What about your incorrect count. What about that? I asked you how many you had coming and you got that wrong. That means the count doubled.
“44 strokes punishment are due.” Page pronounced.
The bald slave fell to her knees and began to plead, but Page cut her off.
“Silence. Let that untrained mouth start blabbing and you will end up with a hundred strokes before you are two minutes in.”
Page stepped up to Willow and took her chin in her hand. Page looked deep into her eyes and said in that calm, cold voice. “Try harder.”
Page stepped around Willow and pulled her down the hall. Instead of turning into the bedroom they had shared or into the adjoining bathroom, Page went straight down the hall to a door Willow had never seen open.
“Down on your knees.” Page commanded. Willow dropped like a stone into position.
“Slave you will never enter this room on your feet. You will never enter this room alone unless you have been sent on a task and you will still crawl. I will use many names for this room because it will serve many purposes. I may call it the Play Room. I may call it the Room of Wisdom. I many call it the Room of Enlightenment. Whatever it is called you will come to this spot, sit and wait. You will then be asked why you are here and you will beg to enter and be allowed to partake of the virtues of this room. Be creative and be passionate that this is what you want. Fail at this task and you will have cause to regret it.
“Now slave, why are you here?”
“Ma’am, this slave is here to be punished for the mistakes and errors of her ways. She…she begs to be given a chance to improve and learn.”
“Good beginning, but it must improve. Inside”
Page opened the door and Willow crawled behind.
An hour later Page took a break half way through Willow’s 44 strokes. Willow was fixed face down to a padded bench in a Y shape. Her hands and feet were cuffed and chained to the ends of the Y-shaped bench. Her hands were together over her head and her feet were spread apart. There were very regular red strips on her each leg from calf to the bottom of her ass. There were exactly 11 stripes on each leg. There were none directly on her ass and none on her back. Willow was quietly sobbing as Page stepped away for a moment to towel off her sweat.
“So Slave, where are we?”
“Ma’am, that was stroke 22 of 44 that I have earned for sloppy work and lack of decorum. Please continue your patient instruction of this slave.”
Page had given Willow time between each stroke to recover and think of an appropriate response. She had to admit Willow was quite good at creating phrases that fit the moment.
“Slave, I am growing weary of this activity. Would you be willing to bargain some of your strokes away?”
“Ma’am please could I?”
“I don’t know. What would be a good bargain for 22 crop strokes on this beautiful ass?
“Ma’am I would do anything to make this stop, please.”
That was the opening Page had wanted. Willow needed to learn that things can always get worse. Much worse.
“Ok, here is my offer. I will trade you your 22 strokes on your ass for…five on each breast…or five on your sweet virgin pussy. Choose quickly, tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…time is…”
“Breasts!” Willow cried.
Page unlocked Willow’s feet but was able to turn her without unlocking her hands. She relocked her feet in place then came up near Willow’s head.
“There will not be time to count these strokes, nor will you be able to speak for a few moments.”
Without any other preparation Page laid five strokes on Willow’s left breast including the last one across her nipple. Willow arched her back and screamed. The scream lasted for a minute before it became as loud sob.
Again without warning Page laid the last five on Willow’s right breast. Again Willow was caught up in a spasm of pain and wailing.
Page stepped away and waited for Willow to regain her equilibrium. After about 10 minutes Page walked up near her head again.
“Slave, you have endured your first punishment session in the Room of Extraordinary Truths. We now begin again as all is forgiven. In simple terms, you fucked up and you paid the price. Learn and grow.”
Page released Willow from the Y bench and led her out of the Play Room and into the bathroom.
“Let’s see what you have learned today. You will clean the bathroom and shower. Present yourself to me in two hours.”
Page stepped out of the room as Willow reached for the cleaning supplies.
Exactly two hours later the timer Page had set went off. When it did she looked up from the blueprints of the new house she had been studying to look for Willow. Willow was at her feet kneeling and quiet. Page stepped into the bathroom to inspect it and found it adequately clean for a first time. When Page returned Willow was still in the same place quietly waiting.
“Much better effort slave. It is not perfect but that must be taught. I wanted to know if you were able to learn.”
Page stepped into the kitchen and came back with a bowl of raw vegetables, diet style crackers and a glass of water. She placed the bowl and glass in front of Willow.
Page went back to her blueprints trying to find a place to allow access from the garage to the side garden. It was an exercise in compromise and that was not in Lord Blackmon’s nature. There had to be a solution that would be perfect and Page was determined to find it.
Page was pleased that the hour she had spent working on the problem had not been disturbed by Willow eating her meal. She looked down and Willow was still kneeling with the empty bowl and glass in front of her.
“Slave, clean up your meal things and make sure everything is put away in the kitchen. Then go to the bathroom, take care of yourself and brush your teeth. Return to this spot in 30 minutes. Go.”
Willow moved without grace to begin her new tasks. Page made a note that was another area Willow needed work.
When she returned Page stopped her at the door.
“Slave, it is time to learn about the kneeling mat.”
Page placed a dark red rug about three feet square in front of the chair where she had been sitting.
“Kneel there.” She said to Willow. Willow did so quickly.
Page took a moment to look at Willow on the mat. Her bald head was startling, no question, yet in its outrageousness, it was very sexy. It made Willow even more naked. A desire, long dormant, stirred in Page. Willow was making progress in other areas as well. Her face had cleared up somewhat due to proper skin care. She had begun to lose some of the “hide me” weight and there was even some sign of muscle tone in her legs and arms. Page was more and more convinced she was going to be a beauty. However it was going to take more than beauty to make Willow into a pleasure slave for Lord Blackmon.
“Slave, this is a tradition of Lord Blackmon and a few others.” Page thought back to her meeting with Shadow just the day before when she was on the kneeling mat.
“Masters can play word games and lay verbal traps for slave so they can be punished or humiliated. Puzzles and riddles are used to trip up or confuse a slave.
“But sometimes it is important for a master to get clear, uncluttered information from his slave. If a master seeks information about the health of a slave, he does not need information withheld or obscured because the slave is afraid of an ulterior purpose. Also there are times a slave may need to ask a question or make a request. At other times a master may need to teach a slave an important task that may require the slave to ask questions to become competent in the task. All of these require a protocol for effective communications.
“The kneeling mat is just such a place and time. Respect and decorum must to be maintained, slaves and masters are never equals. But this is a place to learn, to speak, to express truths clearly and without games. Here a master can ask a slave a question and the slave knows that what is being sought is the answer. A slave can ask a question and the master may choose to answer or not, but the act of asking is not considered rude.
“But be warned. Masters can still become angry by what is said here. There is no amnesty for disrespect. A slave is never to lie to her master no matter where they are. Only a handful of masters use this tradition. Be glad your master is one of them.
“So here you are. I need some information from you and about you.
“Slave, are you truly a virgin?”
“Yes.” Willow replied.
“Slave, let me warn you one more time. Maintain decorum and respect. You must address me correctly. Now answer the question.”
“Yes ma’am, I am a virgin.” Willow whispered.
“Slave, speak clearly when you answer. Instead of me quizzing you about everything, tell me about your experiences dating and with sex. Be clear, be complete, and be candid.”
Willow blushed across her face and it spread down her pale skin to her throat and chest. She hated this topic.
“Ma’am, I…I have been afraid. I had a friend that was raped when she was 13 years old and I saw what it did to her,..to her mind and spirit. I lost the only friend I had. I was only 11. I wanted nothing to do with sex from then on. It was about hurting and hating and crushing someone. I made myself ugly and unattractive so no one would hurt me like they hurt her. I never talked to boys and almost never talked to girls. They only wanted to talk about boys!”
“Slave, do you masturbate?”
The blush of embarrassment spread further. The marks on her breasts from the crop were lost in the red of her blush.
“Slave, look at me.”
Willow had kept her head bowed, mostly from embarrassment and her eyes were looking at the floor. At Page’s words, she looked up for the first time since the questioning had started.
Page was sitting in the leather chair with her legs crossed and her hands on the arms of the chair. When Page saw her look up, she slowly uncrossed her legs and held them together for just a moment, then slowly parted her knees. This continued until her legs were as wide as the chair would allow.
Willow was transfixed by the sight of Page in this position. Ever since that first glimpse of Page at the auction house, Willow was transfixed by Page’s beauty and poise. Willow saw in Page everything that she had tried to avoid, yet secretly longed for. If Willow looked like Page, people would notice her and talk to her. They would want to be Willow’s friend. The events of the week in which Willow helped Page recover from the blast did nothing to diminish her near hero-worship of Page.
There were so many things that Willow wanted to ask Page. She wanted to hear how she became a slave and what Lord Blackmon was like. She wanted to know what sex was like from someone other than silly teenage girls that made fun of her looks, social status, and ignorance. She wanted to know how to look like Venus Rising and be that confident without clothes. She wanted to be Page.
But Willow also had some new feelings too. She saw the curves and textures of Page’s body and wanted to touch them. She wanted to know if they were soft or firm. She wanted to touch her beautiful hair and brush her lips. In ways that she did not yet understand, she wanted Page.
The harsh events of the morning had shaken those feelings. But now as Page spread her legs before her, those feelings came rushing back and pushed the aches of the crop well back in her mind.
Page could see Willow was transfixed by the display she was putting on. She wanted to begin Willow’s sexual education and she needed her undivided attention. She got it.
“Slave, I said, do you masturbate? Do you touch yourself?”
“Yes ma’am. I have touched myself.”
“Did you like it?”
“Ma’am, I am not sure…it felt good I guess…but…”
“Did you have an orgasm?”
“Ma’am, I..I don’t know.”
“That is not the answer of someone who has had an orgasm, at least not a good one.” Page leaned forward and placed her hands on the inside of her knees. She began to slowly straighten back up while raking her fingernails up the inside of both of her thighs. Each nail pushed against the skin and left behind a red line, like the marks Willow had seen across her own breasts.
“When you have a real orgasm, it is not something you would overlook.”
Page’s hands slid up to her stomach and began to slide down toward the junction of her thighs.
“Since the answer was unclear, let me break it down into smaller parts. Slave, have you touched yourself since you have been shaved smooth?”
“Yes ma’am, I have touched…myself.”
Page ran a finger across her own outer lips, making three complete circuits.
“How did it feel? Did your smooth skin feel different? Did it feel good?”
“Yes…yes ma’am, it did feel good.”
“Did you know it feels even better when it is wet?” Page brought her hand to her mouth and licked two fingers. She then went back and repeated the circuit around her pussy leaving behind a sheen of saliva. Willow’s was mesmerized.
“Slave, I do not want to repeat myself every time. Listen and follow. I said try it. Wet you fingers and touch the soft skin of the outer lips. Now!” Page said firmly but without anger.
Willow brought her hand to her mouth but was having trouble getting her fingers wet because her mouth had gone dry. Finally she succeeded and reached down and copied what Page was doing.
Page closed her eyes for a moment and spoke for both of them.
“Feels good, feels good…” her voice trailed off for a moment. Willow could not have agreed more.
But then Page the Teacher was back. She opened her eyes and said. “Now try this.” Page brought her hand to her mouth again and wet two fingers. She then used the saliva to wet her inner lips from the bottom of her pussy to her clit at the top.
Willow moved to obey. She tried to mirror Page move for move, stroke for stroke as her fingers echoed what she saw in front of her. The sensations she was feeling were multiplied by the visual stimulation of watching Page pleasure herself right in front of her.
“The top…touch the top like this.” Page said in a lust filled husky voice. Page’s hips had begun to move too. Willow followed her teacher’s example.
“Do you like this? Do you like this slave?” Page asked.
“Yes ma’am” Willow replied in a breathy whisper.
“Now STOP.” Page commanded.
Willow had never felt such an urge to ignore what was said. Her body had become an object in motion and it was so hard to stop that forward movement! But Willow pulled her hand away.
“Slave, take one finger and put it just inside your pussy, like this.” Again Page modeled the behavior for Willow so she would understand. “Move it around a little. You will feel wetness. Look.” Page pulled her finger from her pussy and it was glistening with moisture.
“Now let see you do that.” Willow moved to comply. The finger going inside became a whole new sensation. She could feel the wetness and its very slippery nature, urging her finger to probe deeper. Instead she slipped her finger out again and held it up to see.”
“Very good,” Said Page with a smile, “Now watch again.” Page repeated the motion. Inserting her finger, moving it for a moment, then slipping it out covered in her arousal. But this time Page brought the finger to her mouth and, while looking Willow in the eye, closed her lips around it. She slowly pulled the finger from her lips having sucked all the moisture from it.
Willow could feel her heart pounding. She knew what was next.
Willow felt that wonderful tingle as her finger went into her pussy. The wetness had increased and again it was like the slickness was begging her finger to go deeper. But Willow pulled the finger out and placed it on her tongue. The taste was not unpleasant, slightly acidic but defiantly not repulsive.
Willow was more confidant now and went quickly to the task, anxious to have the finger inside her. But when she withdrew her finger Page caught her wrist. While holding her hand, Page lowered herself to the floor in front of Willow. She looked Willow right in the eye and then placed her mouth over Willow’s moist finger. The sight and sensations of the moment caused Willow’s insides to melt.
Page spoke softly to Willow from only a few inches away.
“Let us not violate the spirit of the kneeling mat. It is time we moved forward again.”
Page stood up and indicated that Willow was to do the same. With care Page folded the thin red mat twice and placed it beside the leather chair. Then Page placed her hand on
Willow’s shoulder and pressed her down to her knees once again.
Page returned to the chair, sitting upright on the edge of the cushion. Page again spread her legs and reaching down inserted two fingers in her pussy. From only a foot away Willow watched Page slowly pump the two fingers in and out of herself and twisting them at the same time. Page moan with the sensation and her hips moved in rhythm to her hand.
“Slave it is time you understood what this world is about. It is time you see your first orgasm. It will be mine.” Page then withdrew her two soaked fingers and placed them in Willow’s gaping mouth. At first Willow was startled but realized quickly that Page tastes very similar to herself. Page moved her fingers in Willow’s mouth indicating that she wanted her to lick and suck them clean.
When Page was satisfied the job was done, she removed her fingers and grabbed Willow under the chin. She lifted her face so that Willow was looking into Page’s eyes.
“Listen to me Slave. This is your first act of sexual service. This morning’s service was less than acceptable and you experienced what that means. Take note. Less than acceptable at this task will mean worse. Better than acceptable will be rewarded.
“I will guide you. Your lack of knowledge can be partially offset with enthusiasm. Listen to me and work hard. Understand?”
“Yes ma’am, I understand.”
“Begin as we began a few moments ago around the outside. I will tell you when to move on. Begin.”
Page put her hands on the back of Willow’s bald head and pulled her into her pussy. Willow’s tongue was a race car running around in circles on Page’s outer lips.
“Slowly!…slowly. Enthusiasm does not mean speed; it means focus on doing a good job. Willow’s tongue slowed down to a less frantic pace and began licking in a most pleasant way. Page ran her hand over Willow’s bald head, enjoying the sensation and reveling in the perversity of it.
“Now, like we did before, up and down the inner…yes, just like that. Good.”
Page closed her eyes and began to be swept away by the sensations of what Willow was doing. It had been a long time since she had experience this. Her thoughts flowed for a moment to Carol, but she quickly diverted the flow away from those treacherous rocks.
“Now, like the finger, go inside.”
Page’s breathing was shallow with excitement as Willow’s tongue probed and scoured the inside of her pussy. She pressed Willows naked head further into her sex and let the sensations carry her away.
Yet Willow was not experienced enough to give Page the orgasm she sought. So Page took charge again.
“Slave, stick out your tongue, I will guide your head.”
Willow did as she had been told and Page began moving her head back and forth and grinding her face into her pussy. Willow’s emotions were all over the place. There was the excitement of being sexual with such a beautiful person and exploring new vistas of experience mixed with the perversity of her mouth being used as a masturbation tool.
With barely enough breath to speak Page said “Watch slave! This is an orgasm. This is..yes!!” Page began to shutter and shake, her eyes were pinched closed and her pussy spilled moisture all over Willow’s mouth and face.
Page did not let go of Willow’s head but continued to use her tongue, nose and lips to carry the orgasm as far as it would go. When Page finally let go of her head, Willow sat back on her heals. But Page was still in training mode.
“What are you doing? You are not through! Lick me clean and daisy fresh.”
Willow moved back to her pussy and used her tongue to clean up the mess that she had made. Finally Page pushed her head away and Willow sat back on her heals once more.
After a moment, Page looked at her and said, “You are a mess! Slave. Have you ever seen a cat clean its face?”
“Then get to work.” Page stood and walked out of the room.
Willow thought about it for a minute then began by licking the back of her hand and then wiping it on her face. Then back to licking and wiping, wiping and licking. She tried to get all of the places that might have been soiled by the recent activity. She even noticed that her breasts were wet and see cleaned those the same way.
Page was watching from the hallway and was impressed with Willow’s efforts to complete the task to the best of her ability.
Page had come to believe that Willow was trainable and would probably make a fine pleasure slave if she could get her in shape. What did worry Page some that she had not found Willow’s ragged edge, that place where her will and resistance shattered. She would have to keep pushing Willow to find those frayed edges of her mind and spirit. It was better that Page find them and bolster them than some master that would destroy her for it.
“Slave. Wash up and rest for 1 hour. I want you fresh for your next lesson. Meet me in the back courtyard. Don’t be late.”
Page heard a car rolling to a stop in front of Rose House. This would be her first meeting with Carl, the man her Lord had hired to assist them while he was gone. Lord Blackmon had assured Page he was a good man, but it was hard for her to meet strangers in such an intimate setting.
Carl stepped out the car and walked to the front door. Before he could ring the bell the door opened.
This was his first sight of Lord Blackmon’s slave. He had said she was beautiful and that she would be naked, but Carl was still stunned. He took every reserve of his professional skills to stick to his game plan.
Instead of stopping and gawking at the naked beauty before him, Carl shifted the package he was carrying to his left hand, stuck out his right and said “You must be Miss Page, I am Carl. Nice to meet you.”
“It is nice to meet you too Carl. Welcome to Rose House.” Page replied shaking the man’s beefy hand.
Carl then stepped around her and entered the house.
“Miss Page, I have your mail and the parcels that were delivered to the rented box in San Jose. The groceries are in the back of the Range Rover. I will bring those in now.”
“Let me help you with those” Page replied.
Soon they were shuttling bags from the car into the kitchen and Page was beginning to relax.
Carl stayed to help put the food away but was soon heading out the door, clearly ready to depart. At the door he turned back and looked at Page’s face, “Can I…do you need anything? Is there any problem with the house or…”
“Not right now, but thank you for asking.”
“Peter asked me to make sure you were ok. Problems with the house or grounds are a part of that. You have my number. If something comes up give me a call or email me.”
Like a wife sending her husband off to work, Page stood at the door and waved as Carl drove away. However not many housewives in the 1950’s would have done so completely naked except for knee-high boots and a slave collar.
After Carl left she returned to the back courtyard area of the house. Willow was there, tied to a straight back chair with a large Hitachi vibrator pressed against her pussy and clit. It was upright, coming through the seat of the chair and was mounted on a spring system that would keep a light pressure on Willow’s pussy no matter how she moved up and down. The leg restraints Willow wore limited her movement side to side. At the moment the vibrator was off.
This was going to be Willow’s treat for doing well earlier. It was also going to be a lesson in her own orgasm.
“Now where were we? I asked what you liked more, chocolate or vanilla ice cream?”
“Ma’am, this slave prefers chocolate ice cream.”
“I will be right back.
Page went into the kitchen and retrieved a small single serving container of premium chocolate ice cream and a small spoon. She went back out and sat directly in front of Willow.
“We are going to play a game. The game is called Yes or No. It is simple. When you experience something that you like you say yes. When you experience something you do not like you will say no. Clear?”
“Good, let’s begin.”
Page took a very small helping of the ice cream and put it on the end of the spoon. She then held it up to Willow’s mouth. When Willow swallowed the small treat she said “yes.”
Next Page tripped a small foot pedal that started the vibrator on low. This was Willow’s first experience with the Hitachi and Page wanted her to go slow. The vibrator was humming and soon Willow moaned in chorus with the sound and said “yes” again.
Page lifted her foot and the vibrator stopped and at the same time Page gently tugged on the clover style nipple clamps Willow was wearing.
“No” was her reaction.
Ice cream was a yes.
Vibrator was a yes.
Nipple tug was a no.
Page repeated the cycle a little closer together.
Page repeated it again faster still
Page was patient. She increased the rate just a small bit each time. Willow began anticipating what was coming next with her answers. The interval in between was also getting smaller to where they were almost happening at the same time.
Willow continued with her answers.
But Page began changing it up. She did ice cream, nipples, then vibrator.
Willow still said.
No, wait Yes!
But Page had moved on to nipple clamps again and right back to vibrator.
Page would use the vibrator for longer, then tugged on the clamps at the same time. Soon Willow could not take the ice cream in but Page held it up close to her nose.
Sensations were breaking over Willow’s head as the vibrator drove her higher and higher and the clamps were adding a counter point to that climb.
Page set the vibrator controls to high and held her foot down on it. At the same time Page tugged the clamps off of Willow’s nipples. Willow howled in pain and pleasure as she came. But then Page took two dollops of ice cream and held them to Willows inflamed nipples. The pitch rose even higher. Willow was a volcano of sensations.
The vibrator slowed and then stopped. Willow was still riding the wave of pleasure when she realized there was a new sensation on her breasts. She looked down and she saw Page was licking up the chocolate ice cream she had spread there. Page’s tongue felt wonderful and electric on her breasts.
Page pulled back from her chore and looked into Willow’s eyes.
“Those are calories we are going to have to work off tomorrow.”