Training an Incompetent

The Slave was not surprised when she was thrown from her Master, the searing pain in her head quickly forgotten as she slammed into the cabinet with a sharp cry. She was afraid though, terribly afraid, and as he extended his bo staff her fear only multiplied.

"Master- I'm sorry I just didn't have enough control! I was trying!" There was almost a sob at the end of her words as she tried to stand. Fear threatened to paralyze her, but the sight of electricity running up and down the staff gave her the fuel she needed to roll to the side and make a bolt around a table and for the door.

"Please!" She was absolutely terrified, and disappointed in herself. She almost wanted to stand and take her Master's punishment for her failure. She could feel the pain of it in her own mind, a pain of her own creation. That pain mixed with the terror of the pain she knew he was going to throw upon her.

He was relentless. Like a machine. Without pausing he swiped at the table, breaking it in half with one strike, and strode towards her purposefully. She had no means of escape. The door opened only for him. He spoke his voice chill, and angry.

"You took your pleasure before me slave. That is the worst insult you can pay to me. For it you shall be punished. Face it now, or I shall make it a thousand times worse when I at last catch you. For I will catch you...you will not leave this room under your own power, I promise."

In her fear the slave backed away from her Master, but she knew he was correct, she had no where to go- not to mention he seemed to have unlimited stores of energy and she had very little left. He was stronger and faster than she was when she was at her peak, and this was not that moment.


The tears had already started as she backed away, trembling. "I'm sorry, Master. Please, you don't have to do this . . . I didn't mean to . . . I swear I will do anything you want me to." She now had her back against a wall, not her most intelligent move, but she wasn't exactly thinking anything through except keeping him from breaking her into a billion little pieces. "I swear!"

"I do not need your promises slave. You are Mine. Mine to kill, mine to fuck. Mine to control. Your will is nothing. Your needs are nothing. Your desires are nothing. You exist at my pleasure, and will take what I give you. Now, on your knees."

Slade walks slowly, menacingly towards her, closing the distance at a rate that his footsteps don't seem to support. He's almost wraithlike. Suddenly within arms length of her. Standing over her with the stave held tightly in one hand.

"Kneel."

She looks up at him and her eyes grow wide. Her fear is reflected in her tears a million times over as she falls to her knees in front of him. She was trembling, afraid, but unwilling to make him any angrier. She was the slave, and He was the Master. She knew in the core of her being that every word he spoke was true.

Her head dropped before him, she didn't need to see what he did, it didn't matter, and all she needed to know was that she deserved it.

"Master." It was an affirmation of all that he was.

And all that she was not.

She would not fight his punishment. She would not further betray him by running, or begging, or fighting his control.

She was his.

He nodded, well pleased as she submitted herself before him. Submitted herself to his authority. His Mastery. Here now, was his whole reason for this exercise. To make her serve him without question. Without concern for herself. To make her a tool to his needs.


Perfect.


He reached down, tapping a control on his wrist with one hand. In response the suit retracted into her manacles, leaving her nude before him. He gave her a moment to consider this situation before he brought the stave down, slamming it hard into her back, and driving her into the floor with a blow that crackled with electricity, and pain. He let her feel the bite of the charge before withdrawing it, moving around her. Planning his next strike.

As the suit disappeared, the slave felt the chill of the room around her again, and she knew she had only a moment without pain left. That moment was cut short when the Bo Staff slammed down into her. As she was driven into the floor she screamed. She continued to scream as he held the staff against you. She managed to hold her tears back. She wanted to show him that she was strong. That she could please him. That she could take everything that came at her.

She wanted him to know that no matter what she faced, for him she would hold herself up.

As he moved around her she pushed herself back up onto her knees and composed herself again, her head down, her shoulders and back strait. She would give him this for as long as she could. A slave who got back up for him, only for him. A slave who did not give in to her own fears and pain. She would overcome it all for him, in as much silence as she could muster.

He moved about her, his footsteps nearly silent in the quiet room. Feeling the control fill, and consume him. Bringing with it a satisfaction beyond any sexual fulfillment he could have taken from her. The power, the Will of what he was doing made him feel elemental. Unstoppable.

He struck again, this time sliding the bo staff beneath her, and then pressing it into the already reddened nipples of her firm bosom. As soon as she had registered the pain, it was gone, replaced by another as her ran the staff along the side of her thigh, and then withdrawing it again. Each touch lasted a bare second, yet each was a raw, agonizing pain to her. In counterpoint to this he spoke, reinforcing his position as master.

"This pleases me slave. Your pain pleases me. I want to make you suffer, and you do. It is the sole area in which you perform well, and you will get ample opportunity to use it, I assure you."

She let out a cry as she felt the pole touch her nipple, and another as it touched her thigh. The physical pain was nothing, though, in comparison to his words. She trembled with each one, her eyes down. She felt herself shrinking before him.

If this were all she was good at, then she would do it without complaint. She looked up at him only for a moment, then quickly dropped her head.

It was enough to show him her undying devotion, and her understanding, as well as her pain and her resolve to take it as well as she could. She hoped that he understood all of that without her words, then she was sure he would.

She knew that her ability to take the pain on her knees would not last much longer. She was weak and tired, and soon she would be on her hands as well. Not long after that she would be unable to rise from the assaults. Still, she would push herself to new limits for him. For his pleasure. The longer she held out, the more pleasure he would derive for her pain.