She squealed and jumped when at last she felt her boss’s hand on her shoulder, her nose briefly leaving the corner. She hoped Joanna hadn’t seen but should have known better.

Putting her lips next to Sherie’s ear she growled, “No one gave you permission to move out of the corner. That will cost you...”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you, Ma’am, ” she gasped.

“Get your clothes off. And make sure your nose stays where it belongs.”

This was easy for the girl. Her Master had often required the same thing and the ability to move her muscles was a huge relief.the

When she was naked she felt her boss put a leather collar around her neck on top of the silver ring that her Master had locked there on their wedding night.

A tug on what she assumed was a leash took her to her knees and then away from the corner towards the office door. She longed to look up but was well trained enough to know better. Joanna opened the door and without saying a word, led her out into the larger part of the office.

She flushed bright at the thought of her office coworkers seeing her humiliated like this but the only sounds she heard were the normal hums of idling machines and the air recirculating system. She had to scurry to stay up with Joanna’s red high heels and the short nap of the office rug was scraping the skin of her knees.

The Domme didn’t slow down as she walked her captive through the office and though she was tempted, didn’t turn around to see how her charge was managing. She led her through the office, past her desk, and out into the hall, the public part of the building, and paused before the elevator doors.

Unsure of what was expected of her, Sherie just adopted a position she’d been taught by her Master. Still on hands and knees, she lowered her head until her forehead touched the floor next to Joanna’s shiny red heels.

The elevator arrived and when the doors opened she was relieved and yet somehow disappointed that the car was empty.

The ride up to the executive level of offices was short though to the girl on her knees it felt much longer. When the doors opened and she was led into the hall she heard the sound of a vacuum and voices chatting. Immediately the voices stopped and she knew she was the reason why.

She didn’t speak much Spanish but she recognized the word “puta” and assumed the rest of what they said was not much different from what her coworkers had said as she walked to Joanna’s a few hours earlier.

Mr Crandall’s office was in one corner on the top floor of the 22-story building and had a very nice view of the now-setting sun through its floor-to-ceiling windows. Little of that view was available to the girl even if she hadn’t been focused on Joanna and what was ahead.

A moment later she was in front of a large metal door that Joanna opened and led her through.

“Sit. Presentation pose.”

The well-trained slave did not have to be told twice. She snapped into position, sitting on her heels, with her thighs well spread, back straight, eyes toward the ground a meter in front of her and hands facing upward on her thighs.

Knowing that her brother had trained her, Joanna didn’t even think to look to see if she had been obeyed. She crossed to the wall and threw 3 switches, flooding the room with light.

What little she could make out from beneath her bowed brow filled her with dread. Her Master had assembled a few things in their home to hold her while she was being punished or fucked but it was nowhere near as elaborate as what was in this room.

Joanna returned, took the leash, and led her over the corner where two windows met. Parked there was a wooden device that she recognized from various porn movies she’d watched with her husband before they were married and she became his slave.

A sturdy-looking base held a horizontal beam that was topped with boards in a wedge shape and where they met the beam was a smaller wedge of metal as well. She knew it was called a ’Spanish horse’ and that it was exceptionally cruel to sit on for even a short period of time.

She had wondered how it must feel and now, as a well-trained, though presently deserving of punishment, slave and painslut, she was about to learn.

Joanna pushed a button and the horse lowered itself to a little over half a meter.

“Get up. Stand over it,” she ordered.

Sherie obeyed, trying to avoid thinking about what she knew was coming.

“Hands behind your back.”

As she had so often done, she crossed her wrists at her back but the other woman took them and put her palms together and then cinched her wrists with a strap. A second strap quickly followed just above her elbows, pinning them together in a way that she knew would quickly go from uncomfortable to painful. She felt something being attached to this strap but couldn’t figure it out.

Moving to the front of the horse Joanna again pressed the button and the narrow edged bean rose until it made contact with the folds of her vulva. Joanna paused the device long enough to reach in and spread her labia so that the edge was centered and then said, “Look at me. And stay looking at me until I give you permission to stop.”

She obeyed and looking at her boss’ face was a bit shocked. Instead of the pretty but usually very business-like face was one that was more than a little terrifying. She was grinning in a way that almost resembled a Disney villainess about to apply some wickedness to her step-daughter. Her eyes gleamed like a hungry beast who was about to devour her.

Joanna pressed the button and the wooden machine rose further until the girl was on tiptoe. Sherie could feel the wedge cutting into the most sensitive part of her body but put that aside so she could focus on the other woman’s face.

Her toes quickly grew tired and she could no longer support herself over the board and had no choice but to let it nestle into her crotch and use her thigh muscles to keep her entire weight off the cutting edge.

Her discomfort only made the woman smile even more as she pressed another button that made the boards supporting the beam widen and spread her legs so that her thigh muscles could no longer ease her pain.

The button was pushed again and the device rose again until it was even with her tormentor’s waist when and yet a third button was pressed and she felt what had been attached to the elbow strap get pulled up toward the ceiling, forcing her body forward and putting almost all of her weight onto her clitoris now being brutally dug into by the horse’s sharp edge.

She tried to meet the woman’s gaze as she’d been ordered to but could not focus and closed her eyes for a moment as she tried to adjust to the intense pain.

A pair of sharp slaps across one cheek and then the other brought her back to facing Joanna but barely. She felt tears pool at the corner of her eyes and felt shamed by them.

Joanna moved out of sight and suddenly bright spotlights came on around her, illuminating her torture. “I’m going to let you close your eyes while I make a recording but before I do, look out the window.”

For the first time she did and saw the cityscape laid out before her. She suddenly realized that anyone in one of the adjacent buildings who wanted to, had a clear view of her being punished. She wanted to throw up but just managed to avoid it.

“There are four cameras pointed at you to record your suffering. They are being sent directly to your husband’s phone already.

“I plan to edit them into a video for him and if he wants, digitally obscure your face and post it online.”

“Or maybe he won’t want your face hidden. Maybe he’ll decide that it’s time that everyone... your family, your coworkers, your old friends, the whole world, learns what you really are: a stupid useless, disobedient slave. A painslut who will do whatever her Master wants, or whatever the person he shares you with wants. A piece of meat who doesn’t deserve the attention her Master wasted trying to turn into a halfway decent slave or something worth fucking.”

Barely able to focus on the words or their meaning through the haze of pain she caught enough to be deeply shamed. The tears that poured forth from her made her cruel sister-in-law smile.

The threats had been empty and the insults only intended to arouse the poor girl. She knew her brother’s perverse tastes and his penchant for finding girls who got off on humiliation. She’d seen it before, especially among the men and women who were drawn to her strength, to her Dominance. She was completely bisexual and enjoyed dominating either sex equally.

She could, she knew, have made a very lucrative living as a professional Dominatrix. But she found that role too artificial to be satisfying. Being the second most powerful executive for a rapidly growing company, helping to build it into the juggernaut she knew it could become, that was real power.

Still, she enjoyed the occasional distractions that scenes like these provided.

“I’m famished so I’m going to leave you here for a while and go to dinner. I have access to the same live feed as Derek so I’ll be able watch too.”

The imprisoned girl was only vaguely aware of her leaving. All of her thoughts were on the vicious words Joanna had used to describe her. Every one was something she had already thought, something she had told herself. She believed every one.

But, even through the veil of excruciating pain that emanated from where the shiny steel relentlessly cut into the most sensitive part of her body, she found the words highly erotic. She knew her juices must be soaking the wood below her, revealing her love of shame.

She closed her eyes and tried to fall into the dark, endlessly deep well of pain. But Joanna’s words were branded into her mind as if they’d been burned into her skin with iron. They hurt much worse than the Spanish horse.

Opening her eyes she looked out the windows at the nearby buildings. Most of the offices were closed, their lights out. But a few of the windows were still lit and she could see figures moving around in them.

She assumed that sooner or later one, or some, of them would look out side and see the bright lights illuminating her torture. And that too stimulated her filthy lusts.

Of course she had no idea that the windows were mirrored, one-way glass and everything that happened in the sound-proofed room, was unknown beyond its borders.

The voice of her Master startled her and she jumped slightly but enough to drive the wedge hard against her clit and forced a long moan from her chest.

“That’s an interesting situation you’ve managed to get yourself into, slut.”

The words were hard to form in her agony-filled mind but thanks to her training she managed to squeeze out a weak, “y-y-yes, Master.”

“Trust me. I know just how big a mistake it is to piss off my sister...”

The words came easier this time, “Yes, Master... I’m sorry, Master...”

He laughed coldly, “I’m sure by the time she has decided you’ve been punished enough you’ll be much sorrier.”

“Yes, Sir... I think so too.”

“Well, it is opportune. I’d been thinking of inviting her over to see how well you’ve been trained sometime soon anyway, but you’ve gone and embarrassed me and show you clearly haven’t.”

Then it was the voice of his sister that made her jump painfully again.

“Exactly, Derek. And I’m kind of surprised. All the slaves you’ve had before this stupid cunt were pretty sharp.

“Honestly, I don’t understand why you bothered.”

The cruel words cut her to the quick. Her biggest fear, the terror that haunted her 24/7 was that she would displease her Master and be sent away. Or even sold to a stranger or one of the slave houses she’d heard about.

And yet, though she was crying profusely, she had never been more aroused. If she had thought about she would have wondered how she had sunk so low. But she didn’t. She didn’t care.

This low place was where she belonged, where she deserved to be.

“please... Master... please... Joanna... do whatever you want to me... just... please... let me stay.”

The sadistic brother and sister smiled to themselves.

“I don’t know, Joanna. I’ve tried to train her and I’ve punished her a lot, but she still does stupid, careless shit like she did today. She seems to forget what she is, that she exists to please me and shouldn’t think of anything else.”

“Well, Derek. There’s always that place where we sent that other girl...

“And they did pay a decent price for her.”

No such place existed, of course. There had been no “other girl.” Joanna was just using the idea of it to torture the girl. Knowing that her imagination would do most of the work.

“I know, sis. But I like this one.

“And I’ve put a lot of work into her.”

For a moment Sherie’s heart lifted.

“But I’m afraid that if I have to punish her any harder, I’m going to damage her.

“Then, I won’t even be able to sell her to that place.”

It was hard for her to believe but everything the two said only made her wetter.

“Master...?” she whimpered.

“What, slave?” he asked.

“Would you like to?”

“Like to do what?”

“Damage me. Injure me.”

Derek actually cared about her. But also, he wouldn’t waste such a fine specimen by damaging it.

“I hope that won’t be necessary. But...”

“Wow, Sherie. I have never seen my brother be so generous. If you were mine I’d take a branding iron to you.”

If her husband and Master wanted to brand her she would ask only that she be tied down so she wouldn’t jerk and mess it up.

“Well, sis. How much longer do you think you’ll need to punish her?

“Want to keep her overnight? Or longer?”

A small click and the sudden lack of any of the ambient noises she’d heard when they spoke told her they’d muted her feed and were undoubtedly discussing her fate.

She let herself sink into the warm cocoon of the pain, let it wrap her in its cozy blanket and shut off everything else in the world.

Only another masochist, a genuine painslut, could truly comprehend the solace that her suffering brought to her.

She had no idea how long she sat there with the sharp wedge pressed into her cunt with all of her weight and when she heard the voice it was as if it came from the depth of a bottomless well.

Was it Joanna? Had she returned or was it her imagination? She genuinely did not know.

The crack of a cane right at the top of the back of her thighs immediately ended those doubts.

Still in the endorphin fog of her pain it took her a few seconds to come back to the torture room where she had been left.

“I’m sorry, Joanna. I missed what you said.”

She felt the rope holding her arms up behind her being loosened at was at last able to rock back off of her clit pressing against the cruel edge. A moment of relief was immediately replaced by searing agony as the blood rushed back into that sensitive organ. And then, to make it worse, the woman touch an electric prod against the metal that nestled deep into her vulva and pushed a button sending a jolt though her tenderized flesh.

She had barely managed to stifle a scream but the zapping had made her howl from the pit of her stomach.

“Derek is going to love fucking that sore cunt I’ll bet. Maybe he’ll give it a flogging first...”

The thought of that pain was insignificant compared to the idea that her Master would possibly fuck her. The frequency of their intercourse had gone from several times a day when he was seducing her to an increasingly rare reward. He had used her own potent sex drive as a tool to train and enslave her. At first it was teasing her by bringing her to the edge of orgasm, then it was making her ask for permission, which quickly became having her beg and then grovel, offering her pain in exchange for release.

She had been sculpted into her Master’s perfect sex slave as surely as if she had been carved from rough stone. And she knew it and took pride in her complete submission.

When she fucked up like she had with sending out that email she felt awful. Not because she knew her punishment would be severe, but because it meant she had certainly disappointed her Master.

The straps on her bound arms were removed but she remained in position. Though her elbows and wrists were no longer bound, she kept them behind her back. And when the horse was lowered so that it no longer supported her, she remained on tiptoe.

Though Joanna was out of her line of sight she felt herself being visually appraised and stood even more rigid with her body straight, her chest out, and her head bowed submissively.

“Well, you might be a dumb, careless cunt but you’re a very well trained slave. I’m actually impressed with how well you took your punishment. Derek should be proud.”

She knew that meant her Master should be proud of the way he trained her, not how well she took the punishment. “Thank you, Joanna. May I tell him that?”

“I’m sure he’s been watching and listening the whole time.”

She’d forgotten that the scene was being streamed and blushed with pride at how well she’d done.

Joanna took the leash which hung between her sweat-covered breasts and her right elbow and helped her step over horse which was now as low as it could go.

She was led back out the way they had come with Joanna pausing just long enough to make sure the glass-walled tortured room was secured and then led out to the elevator. The cleaning crew had moved on and pushing the button opened the doors immediately. They entered and Sherie felt weird standing next to her Mistress so, without being told to, sank to her knees.

Joanna said nothing, just patted her head.

She could see the numbers this time and watched as they counted down. But instead of stopping at the floor where they worked so she could get her clothes, it kept going all the way to the ground floor where it opened onto huge the marble-floored entryway.

The leash was yanked and she rose to her feet and without a word was led out into the rather cold room and toward the main doors.

She heard the security guards on duty suddenly stop chatting as they walked past them and one of them say softly, “That’s her. That’s the blowjob girl...”

His companion said, “Good evening, Ms Daniels.”

Joanna stopped right next to them and said, “Hello Mr Richards. Hello Miss Jackson, everything quiet around here tonight?”

Joanna took the opportunity as a way to extend and increase the girl’s humiliation. The twinkle in her eye as she showed off her charge inspired the senior guard.

“Very quiet. No one giving oral sex in the parking lot or anywhere else, ” joked Miss Jackson, the black guard supervisor.

Joanna laughed and the girl on her leash turned crimson.

“I don’t think that’s going to a problem in the future, ” she answered as she gave the collared slave a strong jerk with the leash, “Is it, Sherie?”

“No... Joanna. It won’t be I promise.” she whispered, her face burning.

“What was that, you stupid cunt? I couldn’t hear you and I’m sure these people who keep our workplace safe didn’t either.”

Louder, louder than she wanted, she blurted, “No Ma’am. It won’t be a problem again.”

The guards laughed along with Joanna and Sherie, though she usually found humiliation exciting, this made her want to vomit.

A small tone announced a text on Joanna’s phone and after a glance she said, “Well, her husband is here to get her so we’ll have to give our ‘Good byes’.”

“Say goodnight, Sherie.”

“Goodnight Miss Jackson. Goodnight Mr Richards.”

In unison they answered, “Good night Sherie. You be good now.”

Led to the front door in a daze, she was barely aware of them buzzing the door lock and her being led out into the cool night air. Her eyes were lowered until she heard her husband’s voice and against protocol she raised her head and saw him standing at the back of his shiny silver Mercedes SLS AMG.

“Good evening, sis. Sorry you had to deal with this shit.”

“I’d say ’No problem.’ if it weren’t but your wife’s actions are definitely going to complicate things here. It’ll be up to Tom Crandall what he wants to do with her.”

“I understand. I take it that was his private space I was watching her being disciplined in earlier this evening. Well, if he thinks she needs more correction that’s fine with me. Though I expect to be able to watch it online.”

The poor blushing slave could not believe how hot she felt in the cold air. Being talked about as if she wasn’t even there made her insides roil and her cunt drip.

Joanna handed her leash to her brother and he used it to turn her around and handcuff her hands behind her back. That done, he unclipped the leash and pushed her toward the car.

He took a fob from his pocket and pressed the button to make the trunk pop open.

In that instant she realized that he had decided she did not deserve to sit in front of the car. She understood and did not resist as he pushed her into the trunk. Without her hands she landed heavily and painfully into it but did not protest as the lid was closed, plunging her into darkness.

From her confinement she couldn’t make out their words but she knew she was the subject of the long discussion between her Master and his sister.

Still aching from her time on the horse and other punishments, she started to softly cry in the darkness.

After what seemed a much longer drive than it was she felt the vehicle enter their garage and its engine shut off. She tried to wipe her tears on her shoulder but only accentuated her crying by smearing her eye makeup. She steeled herself and tried to mentally prepare herself for whatever was to come next. But instead of the trunk being opened, she heard the garage door close and Derek walk away. Was he going to leave her here all night? The idea was terrifying to her because though she could handle close confinement she was a little more claustrophobic when she was alone.

She forced herself to relax, taking long, slow breaths. Almost as if she were practicing her yoga.

Eventually she slept. For how long, she could not tell, but it was daylight that filled the garage and her confinement when he popped the lid. Her stiff muscles told her it had been hours at the very least.

She blinked against the bright light as she felt her Master’s strong arms lift her from the trunk and carry her into the house. Her momentary joy at seeing him and touching him was short lived as she saw she was being carried not towards their bedroom or even the stairs leading down to the home’s small dungeon, but toward the sliding glass doors leading to the back yard.

The yard had a stout pole with a T beam at its top that she had often tied to and whipped but he walked past that and only realized as she was in mid-air that she was being thrown into the pool. She shrieked at the sudden cold but that was quickly replaced by her struggling to keep her head above water when she heard her Master say, “Stand up, stupid. It’s not that deep.”

Sputtering as she expelled the water, she could not stop herself from laughing at her foolishness.

Even her Master appreciated the joke and her self-deprecation and laughed too,

“Okay, Sherie. There’s not enough time for you to shower and get you back to work on time so you’re going to have to get out, go to the bathroom and make yourself presentable.

“This doesn’t mean your punishment is over. When you get home tonight I’m going to punish you more than I ever have before.”

The slave moved toward the stairs leaving the pool, trying and failing to not think about what her Master’s words meant. She walked over to him and turned her back so he could unlock the handcuffs. Only one was unlocked which she knew meant her use of her hands was to be short-lived. In their bathroom she made herself presentable and going to their bedroom opened her closet and dresser and just stared at the huge number of choices. How does a newly-revealed slut dress to go back to the office where everyone knows what she is? Does she dress modestly or like brazenly? Her brain raced in its frustrating inability to choose.

Just as she was about to cry, Derek entered the room and saw her dilemma.

He went to the closet, pulled out a tight-fitting knit dress that she knew would accentuate her curves, handed it to her and said, “This one. No underwear.” And left the room.

Relieved to not have to decide, she slipped into the dress and joined him near the door.

She wore the dress, the slave collar Joanna had given her, and the handcuffs, and nothing else.

He turned her and re-locked the cuffs and turned her back to face him. “Since you’ve made it clear what you are you will now wear, in addition to your marital one, a slave collar at all times. This old one of Joanna’s will do for now but I intend to replace it with a welded one of steel at the first opportunity.”

She had secretly longed to let the world know ever since he had taken her as his bride that she was also lucky enough to be his slave. That her iron wedding ring and the discreet silver one at her throat were much more than a symbol of their marriage. But still, the idea that all of her work colleagues would see her today wearing a leather collar, was not something she was quite ready for. But she had no choice so those concerns didn’t matter.

Following him out to their car she automatically went to the back, expecting to ride in the trunk again.

Derek smiled, “No dear, you’ll need to be presentable so you don’t piss off my sister. So you’ll get to ride up front today.”

He used his fob to open the car’s gullwing door, took her by the elbow and helped her into the soft leather seats. With her hands cuffed he had to lean across her to fasten her seatbelt and for a moment her nostrils were filled with the heady scent of his masculinity.

She only hoped the juices it stirred were not staining the back of her dress.

Every minute and every mile that brought them closer to her office made her tummy roil more and more. Noting her squirming, her Master told her, “This is what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”

Her breath was shallow, almost as if she were close to orgasming. “yes, Master. i have wanted everyone to know that I am the luckiest girl in the world... i am married to the most wonderful Master any slave could ever wish for...”