The trading company school was located about a mile from the actual village which provided food and other support for us. The villages in the area also entered into the program some of the most beautiful girls. The other new girls and I were taken to the office to meet with the headmaster. He introduced himself as Paul and he was an older gentleman with a warm smile and eyes, which put me immediately at ease.

Paul briefly outlined the training that we would receive over the next two years. He said that we would learn how to present ourselves, how to enhance our beauty and grace and how to please the man who would eventually be our mate. We would learn how to give pleasure and how to receive it, as well as learn how to adapt to a variety of situations that might arise and how to deal with them. At the end of the two years we would have the knowledge of everything to do with sex and how it varies from different cultures and societies.

He also talked of the purpose of the bangles we all wore and how they will mark us as those trained in the art of making love. “The men who come to us looking for companions,” Paul said, “are generally wealthy men from around the world. We have already placed over eight thousand girls in the seventy five years since the trading company was founded, girls who were orphans or abandoned like yourselves. Countless other children have been helped by the company’s schools and programs in the poorer countries. It has been only in the last twenty years or so that we have required you in our special program to be fitted with the bangles. When you are at the theatre or some other social functions with the person who will choose you, don’t be surprised to see another woman wearing the bangles, and know that you have a friend who shares in the life that you do.”

Paul hinted to us of another use for our bangles, the bondage aspect that I had found out about, and then we were dismissed to have our dinner. There were about thirty beautiful young ladies at the school. I asked about Lisa and found that she had finished her training here last year and had been sent to the building near Bombay where the men came to select their girl. After supper I walked around looking in the buildings and talking with a few of the other girls. A couple girls said that they were heading over to the pool for a swim so I went along with them.

The pool was at the back of the compound with showers along one wall and looked quite refreshing. The others just stripped off all their clothes, piling them on the beaches or tables nearby, so I did the same. I stood under the shower and washed the grime from the trip off, then crossed to the pool and dove in. The cool water felt great on my skin as I paddled to the other side. I saw there was a kind of alcove with bushes and trees hanging over the water, almost touching. I felt my feet touch the bottom, the water not deep at this end. I stood, brushed the water from my eyes, then I saw it.

There was a girl sitting on the edge of the pool. Her eyes were closed. Another girl was kneeling behind the first, her arms around her and her hands were kneading her breasts. Another girl was laying in the water with her head between the thighs of the girl sitting on the edge, her face pressed tight against her crotch. I stood and stared for a few moments while the girl in the middle moved her hips around and made little moans.

I jumped when an arm snaked around my waist, a blond haired girl pulling herself near me. “Mmmm, That’s what I need.” she said. “After the class today I wanted to jump on anything that moved. You’re new here. Hi, I’m Jo-Ann.”

“Nissa.” I said. “I just arrived this afternoon,” I don’t know why I wanted to impress her but I added, “from London.”

“Cool,” she stated, “I did my high school in L.A.”

“California.” she added to my quizzical look. She had pronounced it lay. “Been here six months now. Not much to do evenings here, except that.” waving a hand at the trio. The one in the middle was thrashing her head up and down, her moans getting louder, her nipples getting pinched and twisted by the one in back. Jo-Ann was standing very close to me. I could feel the hairs of her pussy against my hip.

We watched as the girl in the middle, Karen I was told, tensed and threw her head back as she came powerfully from the ministrations of the other two girls. Jo-Ann and I made our way to the alcove, climbed out of the water and sat on a bench nearby. Lights had come on around the compound and around the pool area, but the end we were in remained dark. I noticed that Jo-Ann hadn’t stopped touching me since we met, her soft caresses making me lose any inhibitions I may have had. When she bent close to kiss first my cheek, then my lips, a tingle ran down my back.

Jo-Ann moved her head lower to take one of my nipples between her lips, gently licking and sucking it. I slid my hand along her thigh and when I reached the patch of silky fur she parted her legs to allow me to explore lower. I slipped a finger through her slit. She jumped when my finger touched her clitoris.

She turned to lay on the bench with her head in my lap. I bent forward a little and she found my nipple with her mouth again. She bent one leg up when I reached between her legs and I parted her slit, pushing a finger into her. Her cunt gripped my finger, seeming to pull it into her, her mouth working on one nipple, then her hand on my other breast, fingers rubbing the sensitive tip.

I heard splashing and giggling and looked up to see the three girls swimming away, leaving Jo-Ann and I alone. I had noticed recently that my nipples were becoming much more sensitive and the fire from Jo- Ann’s mouth and hand was quickly spreading. I pushed my finger deep into her, twisting it around to feel the inside of her, then out, to rub up and down her slit, pinching the lips but avoiding her clit to make the time stretch out. My arm cradled her head, the fingers of that hand entwined in her hair which spilled over my legs and down, to tickle my feet.

I pressed her head harder to my chest as I started to cum from the stimulations at my nipples, the feelings washing over me in a giant wave while I rocked on the bench. I pushed two fingers into her tight cunt with my thumb on her clit, rubbing across the sensitive little nub. In just a few moments she released my nipple from her mouth to take a gulp of air and let out a long moan. I could feel the inside of her cunt squeezing my fingers as her orgasm took hold of her.

We came back to earth and embraced in a long wet kiss. Then she took my hand and we walked into the water to swim back to the other side of the pool. We dried off and got dressed, then went over to the cafeteria for some snacks. After, Jo-Ann took me to the dorm building and helped me find my bed. I spotted my little bag on one of the beds beside the wall. First year girls slept on the ground floor while those in second year had the second and third. Many of the girls were already in bed as I wandered around and I noticed something quite interesting. Most of the girls in their beds had a short piece of chain through one of their bangles and part of the bedframe, and it was locked on with a brass padlock.

I tried not to be too obvious but I looked again. Some of the girls had used the lock to connect one of their wrist bracelets to the bed with the chain through the headboard, while others locked one ankle bangle with the chain around the rail at the end of the bed. I was also quick to notice that a few girls had used the lock to join both their wrist or ankle bracelets together, the chain looped through part of the bed frame. I saw that there was a table by the door where one of the staff sat and as someone came in they would take a lock and a piece of chain from it before going to their bed. I went to the attendant and asked her about it.

She said that although we didn’t have to if we really didn’t want to it was expected that we all were locked to our bed at night. She told me that all the locks had the same key and that there was someone here all night, in case of an emergency, who could release us. This was just like when Lisa would put the locks on me at night back in London, except I was never chained to the bed. The thought of it was making me hot again. The attendant smiled at me as I took a lock and chain from the table. I went back to my bed and undressed, then slid under the covers.

I put the chain through one of the metal bars of the headboard. Then I put the lock through one of my wrist bangles, through the two ends of the chain, and then through my other bangle. The lock was fairly big and heavy and when I pressed with my fingers it closed with a solid thump. I moved my hands down, the chain pulling up tight, stopping them at just above my waist. The lock was bigger than the ones Lisa had bought for me and the feelings of it, along with the chain leading from it, past my fingers to the headboard were starting to make me feel like the bed I was laying on was now a part of me.

It took me a long time to get to sleep that first night. Although I was use to having my hands locked together I would start to drift off and my hands would move down, only to jerk to a stop at the end of the chain, waking me up. Then I would quietly try to pull on the chain and the lock but of course there was no way to get free. This would make me even more horny. I noticed that the attendant would sit in the office and come out every fifteen minutes or so to look around in case anyone needed something. I rubbed my breasts until I saw her make her rounds, then, when she went back to the office I moved my hands down and slid up on the bed until I could reach my aching pussy.

I started to finger myself as quietly as I could. The bar on the bed that the chain was around had some cloth padding around it so there was no noise from that end. The lock was clinking against my bangles but that was under the blankets so it wasn’t too loud either. The chain lay across my chest, rubbing across my nipples, which was an added bonus. It didn’t take long before I exploded, as quietly as I could, in a lovely orgasm. At the last moment I had slid down a little so the chain pulled up tight causing my hands to dig even deeper into my crotch. After that it didn’t take me much longer to fall into a deep sleep. The sound of chains woke me as the attendants came around in the morning to unlock all of us.

All the first year girls were wakened first and we went to the dining room for breakfast. I learned that the girls in second year would eat after we had finished. There were tables set up along one wall piled with all sorts of food so I helped myself to some hot cereal, a boiled egg and some fresh fruit. During the breakfast I was told to go to room eight of building C for orientation, so after I ate I headed over there.

There were seven, counting myself, and we listened to the teacher outline our studies for the next two years. We would be given classes on math and sciences, languages, english as well as some french, german and spanish. There would be lessons in geography and the politics of the countries as well as current affairs. The teacher said that we would be expected to hold a conversation on a wide range of topics. There were also classes on dance and theatre, acting would come in handy sometimes, she said. “As you continue in the program there will be more training on the sexual aspects of relationships. You will be taught everything that there is to know about the subject. After you leave here and are chosen by someone you will be able to use that knowledge to understand and provide the sexual pleasures that he, or she, is looking for. You will know what you want out of the relationship, and the company will try to match the needs of the client with those of yourself to ensure a happy and lasting union.”

The teacher then took us for a walk around the compound, showing us the various buildings and where the classes were. One room was a small theatre where a group of girls were watching a movie. It was a porno film, the woman on the screen had a man behind her with his cock buried up her ass with another man in front, his prick in her mouth. Our group watched for a few moments as both men pulled their cocks out at the same time and shot their cum over the woman’s body.

In the hallway we were told that we would learn how and why such movies were made. We were led to a large room down the hall with shelves full of books and magazines. Along with the stuff every library had there was a big section with all sorts of sex related topics. I picked up one magazine and flipped through, then again, a little slower. There were pictures of women and men wearing kind of horse things. Some of the pictures showed people hitched to small wagons and some were with another person sitting on a saddle, riding the other person like a pony.

I glanced around nervously, feeling the dampness spreading inside my panties, at the others who were engrossed in similar books and magazines. The teacher said that we could find here information on almost any kind of sexual preference known. She said that we would be given times where we could come in and browse the stacks, reading anything that we wanted to. There were computer terminals along one side of the room that we were told linked to the main system where pictures and text files were stored. “These files have been downloaded from the internet,” she said, “and you will be taught how to separate fantasy from reality when you look at the sexual related material here.”

We then took a break for lunch, meeting back in the library afterwards. I was eager to return to the magazine I had flipped through and I ate quickly, only to return and find the teacher there, talking to a few of the other girls. I sat with them and waited for the class to begin again, not wanting to appear too eager to get back to the pony magazine.

When all the others had returned the teacher handed out our schedules and explained that the year was divided into two blocks of five months and one week. That left a week free between semesters. “This is not a holiday camp here,” she said. "The classes are intense, and we expect you to work hard to learn as much as you can over these next years. We present the information as best as we can and it is up to you to learn it. There are no exams at the end of a course, if there are things that you don’t understand, ask, and your teacher will help you. When you leave this school you will be beautiful and intelligent young ladies, highly skilled in the art of making love and in keeping a man happy and proud to have you.

“Some time during this year a doctor will arrive at the school and will preform a small operation on each of you which will prevent you from getting pregnant. We won’t force this on you if you have strong objections, however it is best to have the operation so that you need not worry about birth control. If, when you are chosen, you and your mate want children, the trading company has thousands of children around the world under it’s care, and can arrange for you to adopt as many as you both wish.”

I was a little relived that I wouldn’t have to worry about getting pregnant. It was a concern for me when Steven and I were making love back in London that the condom might break or something. The teacher told us that there were men on the staff here, and that other boys would be brought in from the villages to let us practice having sex with. “There are many types of disease now that can be passed on during sex.” she said. "We test all the men before they are allowed in here, to ensure you are kept safe and in good health.

“Many people have the belief that sex is something dirty that should be kept hidden. A lot of people have no tolerance for sexual practices that don’t fit their idea of what it should be, namely a husband and wife making love in the dark in their own bed. Period. Homosexuals, fetishists, are often shunned, marginalized or treated with contempt or ridiculed. Sometimes narrow mindedness is taken to the extreme and violence is directed to those who don’t fit into the societies mold. As some of you may have already experienced, sex can be a beautiful thing, the pleasures it can bring almost beyond description. A good part of the training you will get here will have to do with sexual practices and how to play out sexual fantasies, making them a reality for both your partner and for yourself. You will understand your own desires and those of your eventual partner and know how to derive pleasures from them.”

The teacher then stood and we followed her to another building which housed a gym at one end and the media center at the other. There was a group of girls doing exercises in the gym and the teacher said that physical fitness was important as well, to keep our bodies in good shape. The media center had T.V, sets tuned to various channels, a satellite feed brought in news and educational programs. We walked through and out, into a garden area near the swimming pool, and sat around a table there. The teacher asked if we had any questions. One girl asked where the money came from to run this school.

“The men who come to us wanting one of you as a companion are asked to make a donation to the trading company’s missions.” she answered. “These gentlemen are generally quite wealthy and the amount we ask for one of you reflects the training you have been given, as well as the person’s ability to pay. The company also receives donations from other sources to finance the schools for abandoned or orphaned children.” Someone asked about seeing some of the girls kissing each other and doing other things as well, whether it was alright to do that.

“You will be given opportunities to make love to both men and women here. Our view is that the means are no different, well, the technique may be, but deriving pleasure for you and the one you are with is the end goal. It may be that you discover, or already know that you prefer having sex with someone of your own gender. We have had women clients whom we have placed girls with.” Another girl asked about seeing many of the girls had chained themselves to their beds at night.

“I’m glad you asked me about that.” the teacher said. She asked me to stand up. Then she took a handful of my long hair and, moving my hands behind my back she threaded it through one of my bracelets, then the other. She looped the hair around and held it tight. My hands were tied behind my back with my own hair! “Many people find that the tying up of their partner gives them a kind of a power which adds excitement to their relationship. Often the person that is tied feels an. . .” The teacher looked at me and must have noticed the heat I felt on my face and chest, my quickened breath. She released my hair allowing it to slip through my bangles and my hands to fall to my sides.
“. . Excitement at the feelings of helplessness from being tied up. Thank you Nissa.” she said, turning to me. I looked at her face and she gave me a little smile and a wink.

“As you saw, the bangles that you all wear, apart from what you have been told, can be used to tie your bodies up quite simply, and in a variety of ways. By now you have all gotten use to them as being a part of yourself. During the training here you will explore their uses as a bondage tool, and become accustomed to being bound with them, sometimes for long periods, all night for example.”

As there were no more questions we were given the rest of the afternoon off and told our classes would start tomorrow. I went to the dining room for a snack and something to drink. Then I wandered over to the library, eager to find the pony magazine I had seen earlier with the pictures I couldn’t seem to shake from my mind. I didn’t find that particular one, but I looked through others in the “B & D” section, seeing pictures of women tied helplessly in many ways.

I was absorbed in one magazine that showed women tied up and whipped. One girl was tied by her wrists and ankles, spread between two trees, while a big man used a whip on her. She had red marks all over her back and bum. One of the girls came over and whispered in my ear “They will do that to you here, you know.” I looked up at her. “Oh yes,” she went on, “they did it to me last month. A man and a women take you into the forest and they tie you just like that and the man whips you with a paddle and then with a stick. Hurt like hell! I screamed and cried so much they had to stop, but I’ve heard of others who had come back with big red marks just like that.” she said, pointing to the picture I had been looking at. “Can you imagine?”

I had been imagining it for the last ten minutes and my panties were soaked. “Thanks for the warning.” I said to her. I put the magazine back on the shelf and headed to the dining room for some supper, stopping in the dorm room to toss my sticky underwear in the laundry. Then, after supper I took a shower and a swim in the pool. I was just sitting on a bench in the garden, letting my hair dry when I saw the girl from the library pass by. I waved and she came over to sit with me. Her name was Sereena and she was Spanish, with jet black hair and deep black eyes.

Sereena told me that she was in her second year here and that she was finding the sex stuff sometimes a little too much. “Like the other night,” she said to me, " there are five other girls in my room upstairs and one of them gets a long chain and they lock themselves all together and they start climbing all over each other in the middle of the floor. I was trying to study and I had to leave and go to the dining room to get some peace and quiet. When I came back two hours later they were still at it, still chained together in a heap on the floor!"

I was dreaming of being in the middle of the heap. “You have had sex with a boy, have you?” I asked her.

“A few times now.” she said.

“How did you like that?”

“It was O.K.” she answered. “They bring young men from the village in and let us do stuff with them.”

I became good friends with Sereena, despite our widely different outlooks on sexual matters. While she found the whole sexual experience “messy and distasteful”, to use her terms, I had been enchanted with the possibilities ever since my finger first found my pussy when I was quite young, and discovered the wondrous feelings that could be generated down there. But what Sereena lacked in sexuality she made up for in intelligence. She could talk on any subject and understood more of the ways of the world than, I thought, anyone in the school. I would often go to Sereena, as did other girls, when we had problems understanding our lessons. She always found a way of explaining things that made it easy to understand.

Sereena had a little brass ring that was soldered closed on her left ankle bangle. It made a gentle tinkling sound when she walked and I asked her about it one day. She said that she had refused the sterilization procedure that almost all us girls get done and they gave her the ring to identify her as a breeder, one who could get pregnant. When she had sex with men in the school the little ring would remind them to use a condom. Later on I did a search on the library computer and found that the clients of the trading company sometimes wanted a girl who could give them children as heirs to a family fortune or business. After I discovered this I noticed that there were a couple of other girls at the school who had the little ring on their ankle bangle. I did some more research and came to the conclusion that I would prefer to adopt children rather than have my own if the man who chose me wanted us to have kids.

The first quarter of the training was, as we had been warned, quite intense, to say the least. Compared to my years in high school I often found myself unable to keep up with the studies and had to put in extra time in the library or media center going over my lessons. Often I would work late into the evenings and most of Sunday, our day off, just to keep up. Although I would still tie myself to the bed at night, I was usually too tired at the end of the day to do much more than fall into a deep sleep.

At the end of the quarter I was rewarded for my hard work when my teacher told me that I had done well. It was during the week off between quarters that some boys were brought in from one of the villages nearby for us to enjoy. Some of the older girls were sent to live at the houses of other men for a few days. Upstairs in the dorm building there were some small rooms where we could have some privacy while entertaining the young men. I was given a time and place to be. When it was my turn I went to the top floor of the building and found the room.

There was a man a little older than me sitting on the bed, waiting for me. I closed the door and went to sit beside him. He looked kind of nervous and he said his name was Armad. As we talked we both became more at ease with each other. Soon we started undressing and we lay down on the bed next to each other. We cuddled and kissed for a while, then things got serious.

Armad must have been told of my likes, or he had been selected especially for me because where Steven had been gentle back in London, Armad started to get more forceful with me. First he used a big padlock and hooked all four of my bangles together before snapping it closed. I was laying on my side with my arms in front, my hands drawn down between my legs and locked to my feet. Armad toyed with me like that for some time, tickling my sides and fingering my cunt before pushing me up onto my knees with my head and shoulders down on the bed.

My ass was sticking up in the air and I didn’t see what he did next because my hair had fallen across my face, but I sure felt it. Armad had taken his belt and I heard it whistle through the air a split second before it landed square across my ass. To be truthful it didn’t hurt as much as surprise the heck out of me. Armad waited several moments before wacking his belt across my bum a second time. I let out a little yell at that one.

I knew that I was in no danger since there were people in the building that surely must have heard, and would have known what was going on. Armad continued to slash his belt down across my up turned bum, pausing several seconds between each stroke. It dawned on me that if I were to just fall over on my side, that would put an end to the torment from his belt that I was receiving, but I wasn’t sure I wanted it to end just yet, so I held my position with my butt in the air, an easy target for his blows. After ten strokes my ass was stinging. After twenty it was on fire. Finally, after the twenty seventh smack I lost my balance and fell over onto my side.

I hadn’t passed out from the pain as you read about so many times, but I had fallen over from the sudden rush of a moderate orgasm that had coursed through my body from the helplessness of my bound position and the lashing my bum was getting. Armad had stopped hitting me when I fell over and soon I felt his hands on mine, unlocking the lock which had held my hands and feet together in it’s grip while I had been whipped. I stretched out flat on my stomach and brushed the hair from my face. I saw him put some cream on his hands and felt the coolness of it as he gently rubbed it onto my tender ass cheeks. He let me rest for several minutes while the cream soothed the tortured flesh of my backside. I looked back to inspect the damage but apart from the red stripes across my butt there didn’t seem to be anything permanent.

After a while I rolled onto my back and Armad used the lock to join my wrist bangles together over my head with my hands through one of the bars of the headboard. I saw him roll a condom over his stiff prick and I slowly brought my legs up to allow him to get on top of me and push himself into me. At first Armad kept his weight off me, holding himself up with his hands, but I felt him pressing down harder, waiting for some sign from me that the pain from my backside was too great. Although my ass still hurt from the beating, his hard body felt good on top of me and I soon forgot about the pain from underneath.

Armad’s full weight was on me now, his rock hard cock pushing deep into me, filling me up, then pulling out slowly until just the tip was between my pussy lips, threatening to fall out completely. I twisted my wrists inside my bangles and pulled hard, wanting to caress his head and back, but the big lock held my hands tight to the headboard of the bed. Armad pushed in hard and started a slow in and out rhythm, his hairless chest sliding up and down against my hard nipples. Three times he saw that I was about to reach the edge and he stopped, his cock head just between my cunt lips, and watched my expression change from ecstasy to agony, my frustration making me pull at my bonds and buck my hips, trying to draw him back into me.

Armad grabbed the hair on the sides of my head in both hands, weaving it tightly between his fingers, and pulled, not hard enough to really hurt, but firmly, so my head was held in place. He then started to pump his manhood into me and I knew that this was going to be it. My body writhed beneath him while I twisted my hands trying to get free, but knowing that they were inescapably locked to the bed. I started to feel his cock get bigger as his thrusts became more frantic. Suddenly we were both there, riding the indescribable crest of the wave, then crashing down and down the trough, caught in the total rush of release.

Armad released his grip on my hair and rolled off me, his cock pulling out with a wet plop, his breathing quick and deep. I could not move for several minutes, the intensity of my cum still sending little shock waves from my toes to my fingers. Finally I rolled onto my side and opened my eyes to look into the deep pools of Armad’s. He gave me a big smile and brought his hand up to brush the hair from my face before planting a big kiss on my lips, his tongue pushing into my mouth to meet mine. I snuggled closer to him and he held me in a tight embrace for a while.

Afterwards, Armad found the keys to the lock and released my hands from the headboard. With a final kiss he put on his clothes and slipped out the door. In a while I got up and looked at my backside in the mirror. My ass had an overall reddish tint to it and still stung a bit, but most of the marks had faded already. I put on my dress and left, to go and get something to eat. As I passed the office at the end of the hall one of the staff saw me and called out my name. She asked if I was all right but I thought the big smile on my face told her what she wanted to know. She still seemed concerned, however, so I said that Armad was a very nice man and we had a good time together. How could I tell her that I had an orgasm while he was whipping me with his belt? Yet that’s just what I ended up telling her after she brought me into the office and made me show her where Armad had whipped me. After asking me a few more questions about my time with Armad she said that I had done very well, and sent me off to have my dinner.

It was only much later on that I learned the training school kept a record of how us girls responded to the sexual training and experiences we have, and what type of material we accessed the most from the library. I was told that the information is used to get a picture of what our sex preferences were so we could be better matched to the personality of the man who would be our mate.

The work load for my next quarter seemed to be a little easier and I had less of a problem keeping up with my studies. I found I also had more free time to spend in the library, reading the files from the computer terminals. There seemed to be an endless number of stories written by people from all over the world. They were kept in a loose classification according to the type of subject that they dealt with. I tended to read mostly stuff in the bondage section, but also enjoyed stories about domination and submission. I also read a few that dealt with pain in the S&M directory, but found many of them hard to take seriously.

When Armad had hit me with his belt it had hurt, but I also knew that he wouldn’t beat me so hard as to leave permanent marks on me. Yet some of the stories that I read were about people getting beaten so bad that their skin was cut and bleeding. Even so, I wondered just how it would feel to be whipped like that, and if it would ever happen to me. During one of my sex ed classes my question was partially answered when the teacher talked about limits and how a couple should know and respect each other’s limits on how far to push the other person.

It was around the mid point of my second quarter that the company doctor arrived at the school to preform the sterilization on ten of us girls, me included. We were all told first what the operation entailed and were each given our last chance to say if we didn’t want to have it done. The doctor said that he would make a small cut on the inside of our belly button. Then, using a long instrument, he would locate and tie off the two tubes from our ovaries where our eggs passed through into our wombs. He said that there would only be a tiny scar from the incision, and that it would be on the inside of our navel, so it would be hardly noticeable. We would be put to sleep and the procedure would take about an hour.

The doctor did me and four other girls the next day, the other five the day after. When I awoke after the operation I felt sick to my stomach but the nurse gave me some medicine that made me feel better. I rested in bed for two days before returning to class and after a few more days I felt O.K. again. The doctor stayed at the school for a week to be sure that we all recovered fully. He told us not to do anything too strenuous for the first month, and not to have unprotected sex with a man for two months.

The rest of my second quarter went well, yet there was one thing that happened that I remember most vividly. There were some picnic tables in a small grove of trees near the back of the swimming pool area. Four of the girls decided one day to tie me up on a table and have their way with me. It was Sunday, our day off and they started around mid morning. They had me take off my dress and lay on my back on top of the table. Then they used rope to tie my hands and feet to the legs of the table.

First they passed the ends of the rope through each of my ankle bangles and tied them to the table legs, pulling my feet close to each side. Then they made me lay back as they used some more rope to tie my wrist bangles to the legs at the other end of the table. My knees were bent with my feet almost flat on the ends of the seats on each side. My arms were up over my head and I couldn’t reach the knots in the rope holding them since they were down under the seats of the table. I was stretched tightly across the top of the picnic table.

Then the girls started their torture of me, sometimes tickling but more often using hands, fingers and mouths to make me cum over and over again. At one point I guess I was making too much noise so someone rolled up a pair of panties and stuffed them into my mouth, holding them in place with a piece of rope tied around my head and through my teeth. News of my helpless predicament must have spread around the school because as the day wore on girls would come and go from the little grove, some just to see, but most to take part in the fun.

Several times a girl would climb on top of the table and with one knee between my legs and the other near my hip would grind her pussy against mine until she reached an orgasm. A few times I had someone on top while others sucked on my nipples at the same time. Sometimes they would just sit at the table talking, occasionally reaching to pinch one of my nipples or finger my sopping wet cunt. In the beginning I was pulling at the ropes that held me, to try and get free, but the longer I lay there bound to the table the more resigned I became that there would be no escape. At one point someone brought a glass of juice and removed my gag to let me drink it. I had lost count of the number of times I had cum so far and was exhausted, but I could have started yelling to be let loose. After I drank the juice I was given a few moments to say something, and a small part of me wanted to. But in the end I just meekly opened my mouth and let the girl gag me again.

I had to pee a couple of times so I tried to let the girls around know by grunting and moving my head, but they didn’t seem to care, or they pretended not to. I had to just pee where I was, letting the piss splash out over my legs and the table, having it pool under my ass amid squeals of humiliating laughter. Then someone would get a pail of water from the pool to splash over me and the table, washing it away.

The day wore on as I lay tied down to the table, my wrists and ankles sore from my pulling on the ropes holding my bangles to it. My mouth also hurt from the panty gag and rope holding it in. At times I would be left alone and would doze off, to be awakened by sensations at my breasts or pussy as someone came along to use my body. The sun was going down and it was starting to get dark. I wondered if I was to be left out here all night. Yet that thought, rather than making me feel afraid, had a kind of calming effect on me. Besides the aches and pains of being held tightly in one position for so long I was thirsty again, and hungry. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. No one had come by for a while now and I wondered if I had been forgotten about.

It was quite dark when I felt an all too familiar stirring at my pussy. I moaned into my gag and, opening my eyes, saw two of the girls who had first tied me to this table, one working at my crotch and the other licking my breasts. Ever so slowly they brought my abused body to a crashing orgasm, the force of which causing me to jerk hard at the ropes that held me and bite down on the one between my teeth with my mind reeling at the helplessness of my situation.

They let me relax for several minutes before I felt tugging on the ropes as they untied me from the table. As I sat up one girl held me while the other removed the gag from my mouth. Then they both helped me walk to the pool and down into the water. Again one held me up, also holding my hair out of the water, while the other rinsed the sweat and juices from my body and pussy. They let me have a glass of milk and a sandwich, then walked me to the dorm building and my bed. As I passed the clock I noticed that I had been bound to that table for over eleven hours. I fell into my bed and slept like a log that night.

The next morning, apart from some stiff muscles and some red marks under my bangles where they had rubbed on me I felt fine. As I went over to have my breakfast a few of the other girls spoke to me about my “ordeal” yesterday. At first I thought I would be laughed at but they were almost reverential, speaking in hushed tones about how well I had withstood their little game. I, of course, didn’t want to let on how much I had really enjoyed being the helpless victim, having to do nothing but lay back and receive endless pleasures from their attentions.

I had wondered why no one from the staff had come along and put a stop to it. As I later on found out everyone in the school had known what was happening on that table in the grove of trees, and as long as I was in no immediate danger the drama had been allowed to play out to the end. When I got the chance to view my records at the end of the training I noted the line “handles long bondage sessions with ease” had to refer to my day tied down on the picnic table.

The end of my second quarter, the mid point of the training, was celebrated with a huge feast and party at one of the nearby villages. Eleven girls plus myself were driven the five miles to enjoy two days of food, fun and boys. Since it was early summer the crops were only just ready for harvest so the men in the village had time to spend with us, letting us practice what we had learned so far.

I had fun, screwing four different men over the two days, but it wasn’t as satisfying for me as I knew it could have been. Although the men in the village were good looking and even sexy, the domination that had charged me at other times was lacking. Sex had come to take on more meaning for me than just a nice fuck, I wanted to be taken, owned, used and perhaps even abused. I got more than I wished for the day after the party, two days before the third quarter was to start.

I was told to wear only a light cotton dress, nothing underneath. One of the women teachers and I were driven by jeep to a small clearing in the forest, a few miles from the school. The man who drove us was one of the mechanics who worked at the school, a large, strong man with thick muscular arms and legs. Before we left he used a lock to attach my hands behind my back. Then we drove to the clearing.

When we stopped I could see two trees in the middle with some things hanging from ropes from the branches. The man pulled me by my arm from the jeep and walked me to the trees. He used some ropes threaded through my ankle bangles to tie my feet to each tree, pulling until my legs were spread apart. My feet were about two and a half feet apart, not too uncomfortable. At the ends of the ropes hanging down were two padded leather cuffs which, after unlocking my hands and pulling my dress over my head, he buckled around my wrists. Then he went from tree to tree pulling and tying the ropes until my hands were stretched up over my head.

He adjusted the ropes attached to the cuffs several times, each time pulling my hands higher, before tying it off. When he finished almost all my weight was on my arms with my toes barely resting on the ground. I hung naked between the two trees as the man braided my hair, winding it on top of my head and pinning it up. Then he stepped back and just looked at me for several minutes.

While I waited for whatever was in store for me, I tested the bonds by pulling on the ropes. The cuffs were tight on my wrists, but not uncomfortable, quite unyielding though. By putting all my weight on them I could raise my feet an inch or two, the ropes from my bangles to the trees spreading my legs farther apart as I did so. I returned my toes back to the ground and found the best position to stand in, my skin slightly chilled from the cool morning air. I looked past the man to see the teacher had taken a folding chair from the jeep and was sitting under a nearby tree. I looked at the man who then gave me a slight nod and, rubbing his hands together, slowly walked around to stand behind me.

I had an idea what was going to happen and the man’s hand soundly smacking across my bum confirmed it. Smack, on my other ass cheek. Smack, Smack, Smack. Five, ten, fifteen, I mentally counted. At eighteen bare handed smacks on my bum he paused, walking over to the other side, to use his other hand. Another ten, five on each side of my bum and it stopped. My toes reached for the ground again as I opened my eyes. During the spanking I had pulled up my legs as far as I could and had been kicking, my body swinging from my arms at each blow.

I watched the man walk away, over to the jeep, returning with a long bag that he put beside one tree. He opened it and pulled out a black stick, a leather covered riding crop, I recognised. This he used on my defenseless body, starting with my sides and around my belly, then moving to my thighs. I was grunting with the pain at first, then yelling louder. A couple times my feet were up and he took the opportunity to slash across the bottom of my feet. I had screamed the loudest at that, it really hurt.

The man slashed me everywhere with that whip. There was soon no part of my body that didn’t burn with stinging fire. The beating went on for what seemed like a long time before I was overtaken by a most massive orgasm. My legs pulled up hard as I tried to curl into a ball, the blows from the whip striking me from everywhere it seemed. Then I groaned loud as I shook, juice from my pussy spraying down my legs to the ground. My fists were balled tight, my feet jerking against the ropes, toes scrabbling on the ground as I came and came.

I hadn’t noticed when the beating had stopped, nor did I understand what was happening as the tension left my arms and my feet found the ground. My legs buckled and I felt coolness of a blanket touch my burning bum as the man and the teacher released the ropes holding me up, gently lowering me to the ground. I lay there gasping air like a beached fish as I tried to come down from the incredible rush I had just experienced.

The hair that had come loose was moved from my eyes and my tears were wiped with a cool towel as I struggled to sit up. My hands were still held up by the ropes and I used them to pull myself up. I saw, as in a dream, my body covered with angry looking red stripes, even my arms had not escaped the punishment. The feeling, and the hurting, started to return to me then and I groaned aloud. The teacher brought a jug of medicine smelling water and with a soft cloth gently patted the marks with the cooling liquid. The man sat on the ground against one of the trees, watching.

I was given some water to drink and left to rest while the man and the teacher sat a little ways off. My hands were still tied over my head and the ropes through my ankle bangles held my legs spread apart, but the cool breeze against my hot flesh felt good and I may have dozed off for a while. At some point a decision had been made because I felt my arms drop as my bonds were removed. The teacher said that we could continue, meaning more whipping, but there was no point, I had passed with flying colours, she told me. I was patted down with the wet cloth again and allowed to dress. The bumpy ride back to the school didn’t do my sore bum any good but the redness of the stripes on me had already faded a lot by the time we got back.

I rested in bed for the rest of that day, trying to come to grips with what had happened to me. The pain from that little whip was so intense across my breasts, my pussy, all easy targets strung up as I was. Yet, during the worst of it I had cum, I thought, harder than I ever had before. How could that be possible? Word had spread around the school that something had happened to me and from time to time girls would come in to see me, if I was O.K. They saw the marks on my arms and legs, a few of which had darkened to purple and brown bruises, and understood what had gone on that morning. I lay on my stomach most of the time, my back, bum, the backs of my thighs and bottoms of my feet hurt the most.

By evening I felt well enough to make it to the dining hall for some dinner. Chef saw me come in and ushered me into the kitchen where a nice soft chair was waiting, along with a specially prepared meal. That night I locked my wrist bangles together, with a long chain leading to the headboard of my bed, and tossed and turned, unable to get to sleep. When the attendant came by I asked to be let go so I could use the toilet. When I got back to my bed I shortened the chain so my hands were over my head, close to the top of the bed, and snapped the lock closed. I was then able to fall asleep with visions of my naked body stretched between the two trees, the sunlight glistening on the beads of sweat which covered me.

I felt very alone and confused for the next two weeks, not paying attention in class, thinking of the whipping I had had and my reaction to it. I could barely admit to myself that the cum I experienced while being whipped was equal to, maybe even better than while having sex.

I was sitting on my bed one evening, staring at nothing, when the teacher who had been at my whipping asked me to come with her. We walked to another building, and upstairs to an empty office. She closed the door as I sat down. She stated that I was having problems adjusting to the feelings I was having over the whipping and that I was to tell her what was wrong.

The man who whipped you, she told me, has worked for the school for fifteen years now, and as well as being an excellent mechanic, keeping the school’s vehicles and systems running, was a master with the whip. The beating that I received was moderately heavy, just under the point where I would have been marked in a way that would have taken a much longer time to recover from. “During the beating you yelled and screamed a lot, perfectly normal under the circumstances, yet you never once asked or begged for it to stop. We would have stopped if you were in any great difficulty, you know. The reaction you had near the end, the orgasm you experienced, looked to be quite powerful. Is this what’s bothering you, that you obtained such pleasure through such pain?”

I looked up into her eyes. My god these people really know what they are doing. She had seen through to the core of my problem. “Yes.” I told her. “Near the end the pain seemed to be building on itself. It started to wrap me in a cloud that I couldn’t pull out of. Then it seemed to suddenly collapse on and into me, triggering what I think was the best orgasm I had ever had. How can something like that be? What happened to me?”

We talked for over two hours, the teacher and I that night. She related my experience to the sensory deprivation experiments which were popular some years back. A person is placed in a tank of body temperature water and a door is closed. The person floats, seemingly weightless. There is no sound, no light, no feelings. After some hours there is no sense of time or place. The mind draws in on itself in what can be a very relaxing, sometimes erotic experience. In my case I experienced a sensory overload. I am a submissive, willing to give myself over to whatever will happen to me, she said. I was bound, helpless, the kicking of my legs against the pull of the ropes that I was doing, continuously reaffirmed my situation in my mind. The pain from the steady blows of the whip was inescapable. In the end, my mind accepted the situation, thus freeing itself to run with the power of the feelings I was experiencing.

“I have heard that a submissive, during a heavy scene such as you had, can enter a kind of trance, sub space it’s been referred to.” she told me. “While whippings or being tied down can drive many people crazy, those like yourself can more readily accept the situation. The mind begins to close off, your consciousness starts to drift away from you, entering a place outside of place and time. You become free to put the discomfort you are having outside, and to better deal with, even enjoy what is happening.” I said that I had moments where I seemed to be looking down on myself, but I had thought I had been dying. At the end, I had seen myself hanging between the trees, the sheen of sweat on myself and the man behind me shining in the sunlight.

“And that is when the orgasm took hold of you?” she asked.

“Yes.” I said.

“You will make some one very happy some day, Nissa. If we can find the right man for you, you will both be very happy.” She said.

I was able to sleep soundly that night, after the talk with the teacher. Although I still had doubts over what had happened, at least I better understood the feelings I had in the forest that day. In the afternoon, next day I was pulled from language class early and led to a room on the top floor of the dorm building. I was told to strip and I was chained to the bed. A short chain was locked to my bracelets and the top of the bedframe, holding my hands up around my head. I was told simply that a man would be along shortly and I was to have sex with him.

After quite a while, and I thought I had been forgotten about, I heard the door open. The man who had whipped me two weeks ago entered, and started to take off his clothes. I thought I was in for another whipping, especially when he rolled me onto my stomach, but the blow never came. As cruel as he was before, he was even more gentle with me this time. He traced little circles on my back with his fingertips, pressing softly on the muscles. He massaged me from my neck to my toes, then had me roll over to do my front.

“All of my marks have faded, I see.” he said.

“Yes.”

“Master.” I added.

He chuckled at that. “Jim will do.” he said.

He ran his hands all over me, ever so gently I had to look to see it was the same man who had beaten me so savagely. At one point I had to pee and I told him so. He said that he didn’t have a key for the lock holding my hands to the bed. He went into the bathroom and came back with a small pail, which he held for me while I squatted on the bed and peed into. Then I lay back down as he traced circles around my breasts with his tongue, licking and sucking the nipples before moving his head lower, across my belly. He lifted my legs and dipped his head in between, gently lapping my clit, pushing his tongue into my cunt, making me mad with desire.

At first I wondered if sex would ever be the same for me, after that last session in the woods, and I guess this was the whole point of this exercise, to see if I could enjoy the sex without the pain. This would also be the first time I was fucked without a condom. The men we had been with in the village a few weeks ago had still used them with us, and yes, this time the feelings were different.

Jim came back up and pushed slowly into me. His prick was nice and thick and long, filling me wonderfully. He stroked with an easy rhythm which I matched, tilting my hips up to meet him, driving his length deeper into me. At the end he pushed in hard as I brought my hands down, the chain snapping tight, my fingers just grazing the hair on his head. I could feel his jism pumping into me, splashing out deep inside, triggering my own orgasm which I was happy to note was quite intense. We lay together for several minutes before Jim reached down to retrieve a towel which he had brought from the bathroom earlier. He pulled out from me, using it to wipe himself, stuffing the end between my legs. I felt a dribbling at my pussy lips, his cum mixed with mine coming out in globs.

Jim stood and bent to give me a kiss on the lips. He thanked me before putting on his clothes, and then he left. I waited a few more minutes before the teacher I had spoken with last night came in and unlocked me from the bed. She asked if everything was all right, and I answered with a shy smile, yes, I was better now. Then she said she would clean up the room and that I could go.

Things were better for me after the talk with the teacher and the session with Jim. My confusion and doubts disappeared overnight allowing me to concentrate on my lessons. My courses in the third quarter were languages, science which was biology and physics. Physics was more how things worked, cars, computers, things of the world. There was physical ed to keep us fit and trim, and cooking classes too. Current affairs, what was going on in the outside world, and of course sex ed.

All the girls liked sex ed. The teacher this term was a small man called Mr.Norton. He looked like a caricature of an accountant with his thick glasses and bookish mannerisms, but he knew his subject. He would often bring in stories from the internet for us to study and pick apart, explaining what was impossible or dangerous, what parts were more likely to be possibly true. The sex act itself was taken to it’s smallest detail, studied under a microscope. One week we studied the relationship between pain and pleasure.

By this time all us girls had had a session with the whip. For many of the girls it was a short session. We had a show of hands on how many couldn’t take more than a few strokes, who had lasted longer. Of the class, only two had taken the full session. Mr Norton told me in private that of all the girls who come through the training, very few make it through a session with the whip.

“One of the keys to deriving pleasure from pain,” he told us, “is an acceptance of what is happening to you, is going to happen. If you can get yourself to believe that a whipping, tight and cramping bondage, whatever, is happening and it will continue to happen, you are half way there. Having trust in a caring partner is important to give you the freedom to accept the situation. Once you have accepted the situation and get comfortable in it you can then turn the discomfort into a more pleasurable experience. Many of you might think this impossible, yet I have seen it happen many times, both here and else where.”

Mr. Norton was my sex ed teacher in both my third and fourth quarter. He would sometimes show us movies dealing with the subject he was talking about. For two weeks we learned all about bondage. Mr Norton showed us a video one day, of young women in pony costumes, some pulling small carts. To look at him you would never think it, but he pointed out a man in one of the carts, using a whip on the two girls hitched to it as they drove by. It was a younger Mr. Norton! He told us that he and another man had a stable of eight pony girls in the U.K. many years ago. They were members of an underground cult who trained and owned pony girls and boys. People would come from all over the world to see, ride and show them. “This video was shot in Denmark, at a very private estate.” he explained.

The scene shifted to show about twenty girls lined up, a showing, he said. I had real problems getting to sleep that night. I had a small bedroom to myself upstairs by now and I masturbated many times with visions of me, the steel bit between my teeth and the leather straps crossing my chest and through my crotch, swirling through my mind.

Fourth quarter brought an end to science classes with languages reduced to twice a week. Cooking class was one day a week, helping Chef in the cafeteria, learning how to prepare simple and more exotic dishes. Phys ed switched to mostly dance, Egyptian belly dancing, but not the kind the tourists see, a much more seductive and sensual form. Many forms of the temple dances from India and Thailand were taught, as well as some more modern dance moves. Sex ed with Mr Norton, who also sometimes brought guest speakers to the school was two and a half days per week. Current affairs was two afternoons, leaving me with lots of free time to do reading or extra studies, if I wanted to. I also had time for other entertainment too.

One day I heard that some poor girl was getting the “table torture”. After lunch I made my way to the trees behind the swimming pool. A girl was tied to the picnic table like I had been, her hands over her head and her long hair spilling off the end, touching the ground behind. Her feet were flat on the ends of the seats with her ankle bangles lashed tightly to the table legs. Three other girls were around the table, one lapping her exposed pussy, the other two each hungrily devouring a nipple. I stood and watched as the girl on the table writhed and thrashed, moaning loudly around the panty gag and rope between her teeth each time an orgasm washed over her.

I went to the cafeteria and got her a bottle of apple juice. When I returned there were two girls sitting at the table, idly playing with her tits. I untied her gag and held her head up as she drank the juice. When she finished I massaged her legs and arms for a while, I knew where she was hurting. Then I asked her if she was all right. In a shaky voice she said she thought so. When I showed her the rolled up panties I was touched, when she meekly opened her mouth to accept the gag back, as I had done before. I kissed her lips before packing the panties in and tying the rope behind her head again. Then I rubbed her clit, the other two girls that were there licking her breasts, until she exploded in a delightful orgasm, pulling hard at her bonds while trying to kick with her legs.

Later on, in the evening, I went back to the grove of trees to watch her being untied from the table by, I guessed, two of the girls who had tied her there. She looked drained and disheveled, but I saw the grin on her face and the sparkle in her eyes and knew she had enjoyed the session as much as I had when it had been my turn on the table.

There was always sexual play amongst us girls at the school. I remember just before the end of my training I was in one of the larger rooms that had a big king size bed in it, with five other girls, just talking and fooling around a bit. One girl went out and came back with a long piece of thin chain and a small lock. She decided to hang the keys up on the light fixture on the ceiling so she boosted another girl up so she could reach and hook the keys on a screw on the light. Then she threaded one end of the chain through her left wrist bangle, then through her right ankle bangle, handing the end to another girl. She pulled the chain through her bangles the same way and handed it off to me. When the last girl had linked herself up, the two ends of the chain were connected with the lock.

We all had a great time on that big bed, licking, sucking and banging our pussies together. We ended up all tangled in a tight ball of flesh, hair and chain. The chain would pull up tight between my bangles, drawing my hand close to my foot, or it would get wrapped around me. Once, it tangled around my neck, pulling my face tight into another girl’s crotch. Someone was licking me down there while I did the same to the other girl. I knew that if you constrict the arteries in your neck an orgasm will be much stronger so I just went along with it. I held the chain where it was around my neck with my free hand so that I wouldn’t get strangled too much and came so hard I almost blacked out, pulling some slack around my neck just before it was too late.

A few of the girls had been aware of what I was doing so we all ended up trying it, two of us holding the chain around someone’s neck while others brought them to a mind shattering orgasm. After a while some of us had to pee so we managed to untangle the chain enough that we could all walk to the bathroom and take turns sitting on the toilet. After that we decided we’d had enough so we tried to get the key down from the light. Try as we might we couldn’t seem to be able to reach it… We even tried to form a pyramid but the chain would pull up short, knocking us off balance, those on top landing on us at the bottom.

There were other girls on the floor, sometimes looking into our room to watch our antics. We asked, then begged and pleaded for some help in getting the key down from the ceiling but everyone thought it was a great laugh, seeing the six of us all chained together like that. Finally two girls came in and, using a broom handle, lifted the keys off the light fixture, then promptly ran out of the room with them, leaving us stuck. It ended up that we had to spend the night all tied together, trying to sleep, but not having much success at it. Someone would move their arm or leg and the chain would rattle through the bangles waking most of us up. Then, horniness would set in and soon we would all be thrashing at each others pussies again. Then we would fall asleep, only to have the cycle repeat.

It was late in the morning when, after much yelling by us, the girl who had stolen our keys peeked in the doorway and tossed them into the pile of our bodies on the bed. There was never any thought of retribution for what she had done. All of the pranks like that were done in fun, and we did have a nice time, all cuddled together on that big bed all night.

Two weeks later, I was told that’s it, I had completed my training period. I was to be sent to the company’s offices on the outskirts of Bombay where they would find a compatible mate for me. Moving through the changes in your life is often hard and I felt a little sad to be leaving my teachers and friends at the school. I went around on that last day and thanked all the nice people who had helped me to become the woman I am.

It was Jim who drove two other girls and myself to a nearby village on the river. There, us three beautiful and sensuous young ladies boarded a small boat for the ride down river, away from our isolated mountain school and to the bustle of a larger city. There, our guide escorted us through a busy market place, to the train station where we caught the train to Bombay.

[end of part 2]

Next week: Nissa meets her Master.

Dino Dave.