Gerda was horrified. "They did that to you ?"
"Oh yes, several times. But the worst sleeping punishment is the dormitory. The beds there are just a padded plank a foot wide. They put you into a tight rubber bag which is strapped up the back. Over your mask they fit a heavy leather hood with only nose holes, then they lay you on the plank and strap you down to it from head to toe. You can't move a finger and you're there for the entire night. I was lucky, when they gave me that I was so tired I managed to sleep most of the night. But some slaves get claustrophobic, and then its' a really bad punishment. So remember, always do as they say, you can't beat them. Now get undressed and have a bath while I lay out your Whipping suit. I can release your collar to get your dress off, but your mask must stay."
Still uncomprehending the enormity of what was happening to her, Gerda obeyed meekly. She relaxed in the warm bath, the steam clouding the eye pieces of the mask, wondering what fate had against her to have her involved in such a strange charade. A part of her still wanted to believe that it was all some sort of hideous joke and all the slaves and instructors would turn out to be friends of Guys' playing a practical joke on her.
She dried herself, wryly thinking that even Guy couldn't expect her to use a towel made of latex. She wrapped it around herself and returned to the big room, where Maria was busy laying out rustling garments.
"Good, it feels better after a bath doesn't it ?" Now, I've powdered this black suit for you. It's heavy latex and fits like a glove, but comfortable. You'll notice the pants part is double thickness, which gives your skin some protection from the whip. You wear this white belt, and these knee length boots and long gloves. It's a simple and very comfortable costume to wear."
When Gerda was dressed and Maria had laced up the high-heeled boots, she regarded herself in the long triple mirrors where she could view both front and back by adjusting them.
Despite her fear and apprehension, she liked what she saw. Her tall, slim figure was moulded in shining black latex, with the wide white belt emphasising her thin waist. She tried not to think that her rounded bottom was so tightly encased that it seemed to be demanding a whipping. She wondered if she was going insane, the very thought of a flagellation was horrifying. The anonymous black hood stared back at her, showing nothing of her feelings. She turned on her high heels to Maria.
"Let's get it over with. Is it very bad ?"
"Bless you, that's the right spirit !" No, just try to absorb it and don't fight it. The more you relax you're bum the less it hurts. When it really hurts, just try and think of your Master whipping you with love."
"Well, at least I haven't got that awful rod in, although I must admit it feels strangely good at times, especially when you sit on it."
"I agree. I usually have to wear one all day, and I love it. I feel naked without it. Of course the training rods aren't too big, it's when you get to the really thick ones it becomes more difficult."
Before Gerda could question this ominous statement, Maria had picked up her gag and strapped it securely in place through her mask. Gerda was fascinated the way she had to force the large wedge into her mouth. When she was finished Maria wrote rapidly on her pad - It's a new gag. Please make sure the strap is on the last hole. If I get examined and it's not, I'll get demerits ! Gerda checked, and it was one hole from the end. With difficulty she pulled it tighter until Maria grunted in pain.
Gerda was ashamed that she felt a momentary flash of pleasure. Maria nodded her thanks, knelt briefly to kiss Gerda's knee, and they left the room.
Swiftly Maria led her along a bewildering maze of corridors and stairs. Gerda felt protected and encased in the tight heavy suit. Would the whip hurt terribly, and how would she withstand fifty lashes ? Was this really happening, was she actually walking towards a room where she would be ordered to bend over to be flagellated ? She tried to close her mind to it. She found herself being gently guided into the Whipping chamber. It was not the huge room she had seen earlier. It was almost bare, brightly lit, with a low gym-horse type of rack on which she had suffered her enema earlier. Suddenly she felt afraid, she had not imagined being tied down, thinking that if it hurt too much she could stand up and protest. Maria knelt and kissed her knee once again and left. A Serving-maid in red latex, masked and gagged, moved forward and guided Gerda toward the whipping block. She fixed heavy leather straps on to Gerda's wrists and ankles, each of which had a strong metal loop on it. Then she hurried over to a cabinet and brought back a leather strap with a loose piece of rubber attached to it. She indicated for Gerda to open her mouth. Gerda shook her head.
"Not if that's a gag. I'll choke and be sick, I can't take anything in my mouth."
A door opened and an Instructor entered, masked with the number 9 painted on his hood and dressed in the usual green uniform. He approached Gerda slowly.
"Slave Gerda, I have been assigned to give you your training whipping for the first week. I have also been told to be lenient on the first day. However, direct disobedience of an order can only incur sever demerits. Accept that pressure gag or I will call for assistance and force it into you !"
Desperately Gerda looked around, seeking some sort of escape, but then remembered her experience with the enema this morning. She nodded weakly and the serving maid came over and carefully inserted the loose rubber into her mouth, then tightened the straps behind her head. The rubber lay flat on her tongue and apart from the unpleasant taste did not seema very efficient gag. Now the maid screwed on some sort of pump and the next moment Gerda felt the loose rubber start to swell as the air was forced in. In a few seconds the ball of rubber was filling her mouth until it was forcing out her cheeks. She tried to complain, to groan, but relentlessly the gag continued to grow until it cruelly filled her mouth. She found her breathing unimpeded as the gag had a tube through the middle. The maid unscrewed the pump and motioned her to lie across the block.
In two minutes Gerda was strapped down over the leather horse, her wrists and ankles padlocked through metal hoops on the four legs, and wide straps around her waist and thighs to secure her bottom ignominiously in the air. Lastly, the maid secured a leather blindfold over her eyes. She was now blind and speechless, secured immovably to the block. She heard a rustling sound as the instructor prepared himself.
"I am putting on my whipping coat" she heard him say, "It is of thick black rubber and is worn by all Instructors and Masters, so that the slave can hear the rustle as the arm is raised for the next stroke. I am starting with a short cane in order that you will learn the different type of whips."
She heard the rustle of rubber and the swish of the cane, then a stinging sensation across her bottom. In rapid succession nine more lashes came, until she was squirming with the pain.
"Now ten strokes with the leather cat-o-nine tails. In the old days the Masters used this with steel tips in order to draw blood, but nowadays we are more merciful. Actually, this whip is one of the favourites with the slaves, because the thongs part on the downward swing and spread over the bottom, giving a full and satisfying pain."
Gerda heard the droning, cultivated voice in her dark prison, her rear still smarting from the previous strokes, locked down helplessly over the block. The pressure gag was tight and effective, but, amazingly, not too uncomfortable. She was unaware that they were carefully designed to swell out the cheeks and not carry to the back of the mouth, which could cause choking. She heard the warning rustle of the Whipping coat and then the thrash of the nine leather straps as they smacked across her tightly rubbered bottom.
She was ready to scream behind her gag, but all she felt was a mild pain and a warm glow of heat. Again and again the lash descended, only increasing a pleasant sexual hurt which she tried to ignore. After ten strokes the Instructor spoke again.
"You betray yourself, slave, but you pay me a compliment. No move, no wriggle, no moans of agony. I think you like this whip, so we'll give you another te, a little harder !"
This time the cat swished down in earnest, stinging and hurting. But again the heat in her loins rose and she had the crazy thought of begging him to continue. A strangle, glorious sensation of being utterly helpless and feeling the aching pain spread up her body and down her thighs. Now she had received thirty strokes and she relaxed as best she could in her tight bondage, her feelings a whirl, sure that she was in some kind of sexual nightmare.
"We are proceeding to the riding whip," said the soft voice of the Instructor. "It is made of hard ribbed leather and will hurt more, although I will be gentle today. This time the strokes will be slow, giving you half a minute to recover and savour the pain."
She heard the tell tale rustle then a flat searing pain cut across her buttocks. Her muscles tensed and strained against her bonds in defensive agony, only to find that within seconds the pain had subsided to a hot glow. She tried to remember Maria's advice, to relax her bottom and not to fight against the pain. She once more heard the rustle of the coat, then a swish and the pain again flooded through her. This time it was not so bad, although she once more strained against her bonds.
The Instructor continued with slow measured strokes, expertly hitting the same line across her rubber covered bottom. She became mesmerised by the exact timing of each stroke until she was riding each one, alone in her dark prison of pain, biting on the pressure gag until saliva was running out of the mouthpiece of the mask. After seventeen stokes she heard the Instructor call a halt. She felt something pushed hard against her crotch onto her heavily covered private parts. She gave a brief yelp of surprise and instinctively tried to close her legs, with the predictable lack of results.
"The serving maid will now give you half a minute of the machine. You have been very good for the first session." She felt he suit soaking wet with perspiration from her struggles and the pain of the whipping.
There was a soft humming noise and the next instant she felt the vibration of the machine against her, nosing against the rubber as it sent waves of pure ecstasy through her tortured body. Shame and humiliation , mixed with a raw desire washed over her, and she tried to cry out to stop this monstrous, subtle addition to her torment. The gag reduced her cries to a whimper, and she suddenly realised she was on the verge of an orgasm. Dimly she heard the Instructor speak again.
"Now you will have the final three strokes, but this time very hard in order to mark your bottom, and too let you understand what you may have to suffer during a punishment whipping. The maid is kneeling on the floor between your legs, and will keep the machine on you. Here is the first one !"
She was trembling now, needing the whip more than anything in the world. She dimly heard the swish as it descended and the universe exploded into a searing agony of pain which swiftly turned into ecstatic trembling as her pleasure approached. Expertly the Instructor sensed it and the final two strokes came quickly, the final coinciding with a long muffled scream as every muscle tore against her bondage and her bottom arched upwards as she took a massive, shuddering orgasm, continuing and continuing until flashing lights danced inside her mind and she fell away into exhausted oblivion.